The ship Silas stood on was rocky. He had never liked sea travel, but he knew that the bobbing deck below him wasn't the only reason he felt sick.

"What are your orders, Silas?" Leah asked.

She stood, bow in hand, next to Ivan, his axe balanced on his shoulder. His friends. Awaiting orders.

Silas swore they'd both make it out alive today.

He took a breath, looked at the map of the city, tried to focus his thoughts. He had pondered long and hard about this day, about how he would word what he was going to say to his co-commanders. He considered sugar-coating it, or withholding information, but he knew he had to be honest and blunt. It was the only way he could save their lives.

"Our enemy will be led by the princess herself, if our intel is correct," Silas told them, "The king has ordered me to kill her."

"You specifically?" Ivan questioned.

"Yes, and I intend to follow orders," Silas said, "He also wants as many of the traitors killed as possible."

A tense silence.

"But you want us to leave the princess unharmed until she faces you?" Leah asked, finally.

"As much as possible," Silas said, "Order your soldiers to fight defensively."

"Silas, this seems impossible," Ivan grunted.

"You're right. But Garon wants it this way," Silas said, "And so he'll have it this way."

Both Leah and Ivan seemed surprised at Silas's bitter tone, but he ignored their looks, closing his map.

"I must also tell you that… if things go wrong…" Silas swallowed, "If I fail, he may try and kill you all. He will. So… please…"

He hated this. Valencia was his best friend, and he had to save her life. She had done the same for him. But he also couldn't abandon his new friends to Garon.

"If I fail, join them," he said, finally.

"What?" Leah and Ivan both cried.

"It's your choice of course, but if I fail, I couldn't bear-"

"Silas, what are you talking about?" Leah demanded, "You won't fail. You're an incredible fighter. You cannot let your personal feelings destroy you."

Ivan's expression was dark, "Silas, this isn't you. You aren't a traitor."

"You're wrong," Silas said, "I am. I have been for about a decade now. I thought the king had forgotten, but it's clear to me now that he intends to carry his sentence through. You two are not traitors, but I'm afraid he doesn't care."

"Silas-" Leah tried.

"Please," Silas begged, "Think of yourselves. Think of the troops. Fight defensively. Be safe. I… I believe in you."

His last words to two faithful friends. They both looked reluctant to go, but they both left anyway, stepping off the ship, snapping orders at their soldiers. But Silas wasn't looking at them. Across the water, he could see a small group approaching. Even from here he could see their leader.

Silas drew his sword. He looked at his own reflection, staring back at him. He removed his helmet and cast it aside, fluffing up his hair. He wouldn't need it.

The battle began. Silas was watchful from his spot on the ship, but he remained silent. He could see, with satisfaction, healing magic concentrated around a tiny blonde girl. He heard powerful dragon wings flapping, could almost feel the penetrating gaze of its rider from miles away. And of course, in the thick of the battle, seeming to almost part the sea of Nohrian soldiers, came Valencia.

She was exactly as he had remembered her, yet different, somehow. He tried to place it as he watched her fight. She was a gifted swordswoman, he noted with satisfaction. Confident. Sure in herself.

The outside world is beautiful, isn't it, my friend? he thought.

It seemed altogether too short of a time before she had defeated his guards and boarded the ship. Too easy.

She ran on board, panting, scarred. Clearly, some of his soldiers had challenged her. He was glad she had won. He was glad he finally got to see her again.

He just wished it wasn't like this.

"Your soldiers went easy on me," she snapped, "Why?"

He was surprised at these words. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"What's your game? Who are you?" she asked, pointing her sword at him.

"It's… it's me. Silas," he tried.

He waited for the recognition. The spark. He waited.

Nothing.

"Your father ordered me to kill you, but I can't do that," he tried. Maybe honesty would help. "I mean, you saved my life."

"I did?" she questioned.

Silas faltered. Did she not remember? How could she not remember? It was such an important part of him, something he had thought about so often. How could she forget?

"We were friends," he said, "I took you out for a picnic, but they thought I was trying to steal you away. They almost had me executed. You pleaded with your father for my life. I… became a soldier so I could see you again."

Nothing. Valencia didn't recognize him. He felt like the world had ended. He almost dropped his sword.

"I'm sorry," Valencia said finally.

Silas closed his eyes. His mind whirled. She didn't remember him. All this time - of course, he reasoned, of course she would have forgotten. She was a princess, she was a revolutionary. He was just a noble boy, a soldier, a pawn in the grand scheme of things. Of course she would forget.

"It's okay," he said. And it was. He had seen her again. That was all he wanted. "I wish it didn't have to be like this," he continued, "But you and I have to fight now."

Valencia peered at him with cautious eyes. Suddenly he realized what was different about her.

She was beautiful. The light in her was almost blinding, but he felt drawn to it anyway. Not like her older sister.

He wasn't afraid.

He levelled his sword.

The fight was over almost as soon as it started. Valencia was quicker than he was. He was sloppy, blinded by his emotions.

And he couldn't hit her. He couldn't bring his sword to touch her. He ended up on the ground, her sword at his throat, her foot on his chest.

"You went easy on me too," she said softly.

"My heart wasn't in it," he confessed.

They stayed like that, staring at each other. Finally, Silas managed, "You really don't remember me, do you?"

Valencia sighed. "I'm so sorry."

"It's really okay," he said, "I'm just glad to see you again. I'm glad you're the last person I get to talk to. I think… I think that's how it should be."

"Who said I was going to kill you?" Valencia asked.

Silas panicked. "You have to."

"Why? So I can join my father in his ruthlessness?" Valencia asked. She began to lower her blade.

"No!" Silas said, "He'll kill you!"

"I know that," Valencia asked, "But he was already going to. And I can't possibly kill you. You say I saved your life, right? And you were prepared to save mine, just now. That's why you ordered your soldiers not to harm me. That's why you didn't fight back now."

She grinned. She really was brilliant, silhouetted against the sky.

"Join me," she said.

Silas pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "This isn't how it's supposed to go."

"You're supposed to sacrifice yourself?"

He didn't have the heart to tell her how much he had imagined meeting her again. How little these imagined meetings matched up to what had happened.

Yet, he couldn't deny how much he wanted to follow her. He'd follow her anywhere.

"Alright," he said, finally.

"None of your troops will be harmed," Valencia replied. "I promise."

"I believe you," he replied.

Valencia smiled again, taking her foot off Silas's chest. "Wonderful, I-" she faltered suddenly, "Wait. Say that again?"

"Say what again?" Silas asked, pushing himself up, groaning. She had done a number on him.

"What's your name?" Valencia asked.

"Silas," he responded. His heart fluttered with hope.

"Silas," she muttered, "Silas… I… I think we have a lot to talk about."

In all these years, one thing hadn't changed. Princess Elise was as talkative as always. In the two days since he had joined them, Elise had filled Silas in on everything he missed and introduced him to nearly everyone in the army. In theory, she was supposed to be healing his wounds (which were numerous, but not very serious), but more often she brought her friend, the young Hoshidan Princess Sakura, and chattered Silas's ear off.

Not that he minded. It was nice to talk to Elise again, as overwhelming as she could be. And although she didn't talk much, Sakura was a sweet girl. He hadn't even known she was a Hoshidan princess until his second day, when, between Elise's winding monologue, Silas noticed one of the men of the army he hadn't met yet glaring at him.

Silas tried his best not to make eye contact - the man looked Hoshidan, and Silas already could tell that the animosity between the Hoshidan and Nohrian soldiers had not completely died away. However, after several minutes of the staring, Silas was beginning to grow uncomfortable, but before he could say anything, Sakura suddenly stood up, slipped over to the man, and whispered something in his ear.

After a moment, she returned, bowing nervously to Silas. "I'm sorry about Takumi. He's just protective," she said in a small voice, "He's my big brother. He worries."

Silas glanced over to where the man, arms crossed, still kept a wary eye on him. He tried a friendly wave, which the man visibly huffed at.

"Prince Takumi's better once you get to know him," Elise said matter-of-factly, "Right Sakura?"

Before Sakura could respond, Silas blurted out, "Prince?"

Both girls stared at him.

"Oh my gods, Silas, you didn't know?" Elise gasped, "Prince Takumi, of Hoshido!"

"Oh… and that means..." Silas said slowly, realizing, "I… I'm terribly sorry Princess Sakura, I've been so rude-"

"Don't worry about it," Sakura said softly.

"Prince Ryoma is around here somewhere too! And Princess Hinoka!" Elise added, "They're all very nice."

Silas decided on that day to expect the unexpected from his new companions.

Camilla also took the time to talk to him. As they travelled (Silas didn't know where, exactly, they were going), she drifted back on her wyvern until she rode side by side with his horse.

"Hello, Princess," Silas said, trying to mask his nervousness at her appearance.

"Silas. No need to be so formal, my dear," Camilla crooned, "It's been so long. How have you been?"

Silas, unsure of how to sum up everything that had happened to him since he had seen her last, replied, "Grand."

Camilla laughed her deep, throaty laugh. "I'm glad. I must apologize for everything. And explain. Valencia hasn't been around to talk to you yet, I'm sure you've noticed."

She was right. He had been all too aware of this fact over the two days. He tried not to be upset, but he couldn't help but feel disappointed. He wanted to talk to her again, to catch up, to get back to the friendship they used to have.

"She was quite confused at your appearance. Why she couldn't remember you. She'll explain more, but I needed to tell you the same thing I told her. Her loss of memories isn't her fault. It's mine."

Silas frowned. "What do you mean?"

"When you were banished from the castle, my darling Valencia was so heartbroken. She cried for weeks."

Silas felt numb. He nodded.

"Father was already angry that he was forced to go back on his own decree, and he didn't want anyone else to know about his… leniency," Silas could tell Camilla was having a hard time wording this lightly, "So he ordered Valencia's mind wiped of her memories of you."

"That's possible?" Silas asked.

"It is. For a powerful enough mage, it is. But it's difficult, and usually not thorough. Small, powerful memories often slip past. So, she remembers some aspects of you, but probably only a few. In time, with reminders, she may regain the rest. Still, it was an awful proposition, and I opposed the order at first… but she was so heartbroken, so depressed. I worried I'd never get to see my old, happy Valencia again. So I let him go through with it."

Silas nodded again.

"You have every right to be livid with me," Camilla said, "I've done you a great wrong."

"The way I see it, your father was more to blame," Silas said slowly.

Camilla looked off into the distance, her expression difficult to read.

"I apologize. That wasn't proper of me-" Silas began.

Camilla cut him off with a wave of an elegant hand.

"We are all entitled to our own feelings, dear," she said firmly, "You to yours, and I to mine. It isn't simple, but you aren't wrong."

Silas wasn't entirely sure what she meant, but before he could ask, she pulled the reins of her wyvern and shot straight up into the sky, startling Silas's horse.

An hour or so later, sitting by the fire at the camp they had made, Valencia finally came to talk to him.

She sat down next, to him, wordlessly, and he looked at her, unsure of how to begin. He hoped she would. But instead, she stared at the fire.

"Camilla told me about what happened," Silas blurted out nervously.

Valencia nodded. "She said she would."

"I'm not angry at you," Silas said, "For forgetting. It wasn't your fault."

Valencia clasped her hands together, "You're right, but I can't imagine how painful it must have been-" she trailed off, and then, quieter, "You became a knight to see me again?"

Silas squared his shoulders, "It was… a major motivation."

"Wow," she breathed.

"You saved my life," he said.

"I… sort of remember that part," she said, "When you talked about believing me on the battlefield, I remembered standing outside of a cell in the North Tower's dungeon, touching the door…" she squinted into the fire, "Hearing you say that. I remember the strength it gave me."

Silas stared into the fire, and was startled to see its warm glow blur slightly at her words. He touched his face, and his fingers came away wet.

"I want to remember the rest," Valencia continued, "I don't want Garon to have taken something else from me."

Silas tried to casually wipe his face on his sleeve, but probably failed miserably. He didn't care much. When he had pictured meeting her again, this had been more along the lines of what he had hoped.

"Your father certainly remembered me," he said, keeping his voice steady, "He ordered me to kill you personally."

"He isn't my father," Valencia said.

"Of course. Such a horrible man, of course you've distanced yourself-"

"No," Valencia turned to him, looking him in the eyes, "He is literally not my father. He stole me from Hoshido when I was just a baby."

Silas wasn't sure if it was this new information or the intense light in her eyes that made him feel suddenly unbalanced.

"So it was true? You are a Hoshidan princess?" Silas asked.

"I… suppose so?" Valencia replied.

Silas shook his head. "That explains it," he muttered.

"What?"

He wrung his hands, considered not telling her. But it had been so long, he had to. He wanted to tell her everything.

"I always thought you looked different than the rest of Nohr. Lighter."

Valencia looked away from him, laughing nervously, "Thank you?"

They sat quietly. The fire flickered and crackled.

"Tell me about yourself," she said softly.

He did. He told her everything. About his family, his father, training to fight. About when they were children, about all the places she wanted to see and all the things she wanted to do. He told her about his last carriage ride from the palace, he told her about becoming a soldier, becoming a commander. He told her about Ivan and Leah. She listened intently, nodded along, reacted where it seemed appropriate.

By the time they were done, the fire had died to embers, and the air had chilled. Silas could no longer see all of Valencia's face for the darkness. But he could feel her knee against his, hear her breath.

"Thank you," she said.

"It was a pleasure," Silas said, "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to tell you all of that."

Valencia put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm beginning to get an idea."

"Do… do you remember anything else?" he asked tentatively, hopefully.

"A little," she said apologetically, "Just little things. I remembered some of the things you talked about us doing as kids, I suppose. I just don't remember you."

"It's alright."

"It isn't."

"Camilla said you'd get your memories back with time," Silas reasoned, "So let's give it time."

"You're too good, Silas," she replied sadly, "Too good for me."

Silas thought on that awhile. "Well, we're all entitled to our own feelings."