Chapter 16) Ruled by Madness

It all started with the fall of Renais. This war... our involvement in said war... it was all because Renais fell. Many of us thought it wouldn't be reclaimed until after the war's end, if it was ever freed at all. But with the Rausten knights and Jehanna's mercenaries, with the lack of enemies in Renais, we felt that we stood a chance. So, we march into Renais again, openly instead of hidden like before, and try to hold onto our hope even as we see the ruined remains.

Orson is said to rule here. But, it's clear that he only 'lives' here, and that Renais's true ruler is madness. We have to save it. We have to.

Considering everything that had happened, there was something almost strange about being able to simply relax. But that's just what we were doing. We were in Renais, had taken a break for lunch, and had decided to relax while Cormag did a quick patrol ahead. As a result, Eirika and I were lounging in the grass, Brynhildr watching over us, and Eirika was giggling madly. Why? I'd finally gotten around to telling her just how I confessed to Ephraim.

"Oh, that is even better than I expected!" Eirika cheered, laughing. I was glad she was in good spirits. I knew seeing Renais like this, a shadow of its former self, hurt her deeply. "Way better!"

"As good as me telling you I liked Ephraim when you were well aware that Ephraim liked me too?" I asked dryly. That had come up when I told her that Ephraim and I were together, back in Jehanna. "Little sneak."

"It was simultaneously the most hilarious and frustrating thing ever!" Eirika rubbed at her eyes as tears began forming. "As hilarious as Joshua's reaction to learning."

"I can't believe his reaction was basically 'here are all the ways you can BS your way past complaining nobles'."

"I know, right? I would've thought he'd at least play the overprotective big brother."

"He thought about it, but decided that there was no threat he could make that would be worse than 'she has Brynhildr'." I grinned at her. "Are you going to give me an overprotective speech?"

"Oh, I don't need to do that. If you hurt Ephraim, I'll cry, and I know that's the worst thing I can do to you."

"Ouch, that's a definite hit!" I gave up and started laughing too. The conversation was absolutely ridiculous, and yet, it was wonderfully fun. "Those speeches are always ridiculous, aren't they?"

"Completely."

"Eirika!" L'arachel called suddenly. We both looked to the main part of the camp to see her waving at us. "Sorry, darlings, but Eirika, you're needed!"

"Darn it," Eirika sighed. She stood up and brushed off her skirt. Brynhildr attempted to pin her down with her wing, but I blocked it for her. "Aw, I know, Brynhildr. I want to continue resting too. But if they're calling me, it probably means they need to pick my brain about something."

"Like the embassy thing," I added, remembering that conversation. Since they'd proven useful with Jehanna, there had been discussion about possibly using something similar in Ivroria. However, after a lot of thinking, that had been dismissed because neither Ephraim nor Eirika could remember anything about embassies, leading us to suspect they'd been repurposed, unlike Jehanna's. "Go on. She's just being spoiled."

"Well, of course she is." Eirika scratched Brynhildr behind the eye-ridge, and Brynhildr nuzzled her cheek before reluctantly letting her go. "Thanks, Brynhildr. We'll cuddle more later, okay?"

Laughing, I waved as she left and leaned against Brynhildr, closing my eyes to enjoy the sunshine. Brynhildr sighed gustily, and curled around me, settling her wing over me like a blanket. The two of us ended up dozing for a bit, making a wise use of our break, before Brynhildr suddenly growled. I was awake all at once, tense, but then realized it was 'hey, over there' growl, not of a 'danger' or 'get the hell away' growl. When I looked at her, she used her wing to point to a part of camp where we had a lot of boxes. And above the boxes, just barely visible, I caught sight of purple hair. And, as was the case with so many people in our small core group, there was only one person with purple hair.

"You have got to be kidding me," I muttered. Sighing, I stood up, brushed my skirt off, and headed over to the boxes. Sure enough, I found Lute crouched behind them, flipping through some notes. "So, what are you doing?"

"Fascinating. I had been certain I was hidden," Lute replied. She quickly flipped to a blank page and jotted something down before returning to whatever she was doing. "Your facial expressions have indicated that the recent trials, and the thought of coming battles, has left you weary. I once read about an herb that can help alleviate that. It was on page 339 of De Flores Mysticis. Paragraph four. Sentence three."

"I don't suppose you have the name of it?" I smiled as she pouted a little. No, she couldn't quite remember the name, which bothered her severely. "Are you going through your notes to try and find it?"

"Partially. It is an herb that grows well here in Renais, so I believe it will be most efficient for us to gather it." She shrugged, continuing her search. I softened, amused. "Other than that, I was observing you."

"Because of my weird luck again?"

"While that continues to fascinate me, I have reluctantly decided to not turn that into an object of study."

"Really?" I wondered why briefly, but I caught a trace of sympathy in her eyes and realized what it was. Socially awkward as she could be, she still recognized that it was the cause of a lot of grief. "Then, in that case, what were you studying me for?"

"Love." Lute scowled as she thumbed through the pages. "My books so far have taught me nothing of love. You seem like an excellent research subject for it. Particularly romantic love. You're in the first stages of a relationship, after all."

"I… see…?" I wondered why the hell she wanted to know, but then shrugged. I doubted she'd tell me, even if I asked. "You could just ask people, you know. Get a first hand account?"

"I'll get more paper!" She scrambled off, and after a moment, I sighed and brushed my hair behind my ear. I definitely trapped myself on that one. I could only hope her questions wouldn't embarrass me too much.

"Emma!" Neimi appeared behind me, jumping on my back. I half-caught her, mostly because her intention hadn't been to stay on my back. It was just to give me an extra enthusiastic hug. "So, what do you think we should do for dinner tonight?" she asked, smiling brightly. She'd been a little peppier ever since we returned to Renais, and I was glad to see it. I also noticed her hair was getting longer. "I was thinking we could do something with mushrooms. There are a lot growing this time of year."

"That's true," I agreed, turning slightly to look her better in the eye. "We're also near some rivers, so maybe we can convince the others to fish?"

"Oh, fresh fish… that would be amazing!"

"And not something we've had for a while." We last had fresh fish… it had probably been when we were at the Carcino mansion, when Innes, Gerik, Tethys, and Marisa joined up with us. "Though, do we have fishing poles?"

"We have spears. They can go spear-fishing."

"The mental image alone makes me agree." I grinned and she laughed. "In fact, let's get that arranged and…" A shadow above made us both look up, and we saw Genarog and Cormag had returned. But I knew whatever they'd found hadn't been good. Genarog was far too tense and to sharp with his turns. "Uh oh."

"What's wrong?"

"Trouble." I took her hand and started down the path, dragging her with me as I watched Genarog land. I winced when I noticed Genarog lay low to the ground, claws digging into the ground and tail lashing behind him. "Big trouble."

"Why am I not surprised?" Neimi sighed. "And we were having such a good time, too."

"I know." We caught up then, and I let go of Neimi's hand to pet Genarog's face, trying to soothe him. When Cormag dismounted, I glanced over to him, and saw he held himself rigid and kept a perfectly stoic expression. "What did you see?"

"There's a refugee camp ahead," Cormag mentioned softly. Neimi gasped and covered her mouth, eyes wide with fear and pain. It took me a moment to remember that, technically, Colm and Neimi could've been described as 'refugees' too. From Lark. It had happened so long ago that I'd forgotten, but I doubted they ever would. "They're the survivors of ten nearby villages that were destroyed by bandits."

"…Damn," I growled. I stepped away from Genarog to hug Neimi, deciding she needed the comfort more. She started shaking, mouthing something. I wondered if they were prayers or names. "Should've expected this, but damn."

"Exactly."

I continued holding and helping Neimi calm down, while Cormag left to inform the others. Very quickly, we packed up and moved as fast as we could to the refugee camp, Cormag leading the way. When we arrived, we made sure to stop at the edge, in the hopes that we wouldn't scare them, but we probably did anyway, since we were a large amount of people that appeared out of nowhere. But the healers rushed in ahead of the rest of us, and others quickly began helping out where they could as more and more refugees appeared. The number of injured… how thin they all were… the red-rimmed eyes and the tear stained cheeks… the feeble and half-collapsed 'tents' made from holey blankets and random sticks… it all painted quite the picture of the sad state Renais was in.

"This isn't a matter for debate, Seth," Ephraim declared firmly, at some point, after I'd landed and dismounted from doing an aerial patrol. He, Eirika, and Seth stood apart from the others to have some sort of argument. "I want to find who is in charge." He held himself stiffly, but his eyes made it clear that he would not be deterred. "I want to speak with them."

"They'll be angry at you, Prince Ephraim," Seth warned. In stark contrast to both Ephraim and Eirika, he held himself calmly. "They may only yell."

"Good. They should be angry. And I deserve the yelling." Ephraim looked at the camp again, specifically at some small children half-heartedly playing with some broken toys not far away. "But that's no reason to not listen to them, and maybe having a target for their anger will help them heal."

"Prince Ephraim…"

"Let me go with you," Eirika insisted. She smiled sadly when Ephraim looked ready to protest. "I failed them too, Ephraim. They're my people too. Let me share some of the burden. I can't look away from the cruelties of the world if I want to fix them."

"Then let me accompany you both," Seth requested. He smiled proudly at both of them, and they smiled back. "Just in case they turn violent in their grief. I'm better trained at disarming than you two."

"Thank you, Seth. Let's go."

They headed back into the camp, and I thought about following. But, instead, I lingered back, not quite sure what to do. Fliers were, of course, doing patrols to make sure the area was safe, but it was only one at a time, so I had a long while before my next one. Absently, I thought about possibly cooking for them, since it was clear they hadn't had a good meal in a while, and I was sure no one in the group would mind us sharing our food. So, I looked around, hunting for Neimi and Amelia, but my eyes soon fell on some children nearby. They were trembling, looking at me… no, I realized a second later that they were looking behind me. At Brynhildr.

I glanced back at her, and saw that she was doing her best to try and appear as nonthreatening as possible, keeping very low to the ground and her wings tight against her sides. Unfortunately, she was still a giant wyvern. Even if bandits had destroyed their villages, they likely had seen wyverns flying about when Grado had been here, leveling Renais. And Innes's spies did mention that there were still fliers in Ivroria, as part of the soldiers 'guarding' it.

Still, they weren't screaming, so I smiled at them. "Do you want to come over and pet her?" I asked. A couple looked at each other, but they didn't say a word. "I promise; she is very sweet."

They hesitated, and remained silent, staring and unmoving. But, soon, one particularly brave child, a little girl with pigtails of two separate lengths, stepped out of the group and crept closer. She flinched when Brynhildr lifted her head, but continued walking towards us when I smiled and waved her to come closer. Then, giving me a worried look, she rested a shaking hand on Brynhildr's flank. "Warm," she whispered immediately, smiling from surprise. Carefully, she petted Brynhildr's side, laughing a little. "I thought lizards were cool."

"Nope, wyverns are warm, like me and you." I gave Brynhildr a warning look when she looked around. I knew that she just wanted to nuzzle the girl, or lick her cheek, but the girl wouldn't. Brynhildr nodded after a moment and settled back down. "She's better than a fire, when it gets cold."

"I see." The little girl smiled shyly. "C-can I pet her face?"

"If you want to." I moved to block Bryndhilr's nose, mostly to deter her from licking. After a moment, she started stroking Brynhildr's snout. She squeaked when Brynhildr crooned, but I placed a reassuring hand on her back to steady her. "It's okay. That's how she let's you know she's happy. Like a cat's purring."

"Okay…" She didn't look like she quite believed me, but she did relax and began to laugh as she kept on petting. "Hee… she's much nicer than I thought."

"She's only scary to her enemies. Like mean bandits." I looked up and saw a few more children approaching, and smiled warmly. "Come on. It's okay. She loves being petted."

Hesitantly, yet with eyes sparkling with curiosity, the group of children gathered up around me and began petting and poking Brynhildr. I kept them away from her claws and her mouth, mostly to prevent accidents, but I did have to laugh at the children and how Brynhildr just put up with it all.

"Oh, so this is where you were." Cormag landed Genarog near us, far enough away to not scare the children too badly, and dismounted. "Area is clear, by the way," he told me. "Princess Tana has the next patrol." He laughed when Genarog looked over at us, specifically at the kids, and quickly looked away. "Hey, don't be jealous."

"You can pet Genarog too," I let the children know. They gave me curious looks, but they weren't as fearful as earlier. "He's very gentle, much like Brynhildr."

"That is true. He loves being spoiled." Cormag smiled, still laughing a little. "You're more than welcome to pet him."

Almost immediately, some of the children rushed over to start petting Genarog. Genarog sighed and pretended to be just enduring it, but it was just him trying to pretend to be cool and stoic. Cormag and I laughed and simply worked on making sure the children didn't accidentally hurt themselves, and didn't try to climb onto the saddles without us. Just in case.

After a while, I happened to glance back and noticed we had an audience. A group of older children, early teens at the oldest, watched us closely along with some hesitant, yet indulging, parents. The older children looked a little envious, so I smiled and waved them over. "You don't need to stay back," I told them. A thought occurred to me, and I focused on the parents. "Actually, with your permission, we can take them flying? I promise we won't go too high and it's very safe. It has to be. We fight up in the skies."

It did take a couple of more bits of reassurance, mostly by explaining just how we kept our flights safe, but the parents did eventually agree, so long as it was limited to the 'older' children. The younger ones groaned and whined, but the older children leapt at the chance, so Cormag and I began taking them up for low-altitude flights, one at a time to make sure it was absolutely safe. Before long, they were laughing and laughing, and the parents' unease softened for smiles. I wondered how long it had been since they'd laughed so freely.

"Miss, your wyvern can fly really high, right?" one girl asked as we flew. I guessed she was thirteen, at most, and she had healing burns across the back of her neck. I could see them thanks to how short her hair was. "Do you think she could fly all the way up to heaven where my family is?"

"That's…" I began. I wasn't quite sure how to reply. But I decided to just go for my normal honesty. "No, I'm afraid that not even Brynhildr can fly quite that high."

"I figured." She smiled sadly and laughed bitterly. "I just wondered. I miss them. I miss my mom. I miss my dad. I miss my baby brother. He… he was going to turn one soon."

"I see." I thought a bit and then urged Brynhildr to fly just a little bit higher, above lowest hanging clouds. Right here, we had a beautiful view of the sky and, as luck would have it, a few stars were beginning to shine through the sunset. "Do you know what they say about stars?"

"The stars are the good wishes of the dead, to remind us to hold onto hope." She said the words softly, dully. "I've heard it a lot since the attack."

"Well, that's the Renasi story. Jehannans believe that they're actually windows, letting the dead check in on their loved ones." I still didn't quite believe the stories, not anymore, but if she could find a bit of comfort… "See that star there?" I pointed to one in particular, sparkling brightly, even near the setting sun. "I bet your family is peering through that one. That's why it's shining so clearly."

"You think so?" Her voice was soft, and a little dull, but her smile warmed and her laugh was brighter. "Ha… it's just a story. But it makes me feel better."

"There's nothing wrong with taking comfort from stories. That's why we have them." I glanced down to check where we were, and nodded. "We'll do one more pass before heading down, okay?"

"Okay."

Cormag and I continued giving rides to the children, until all of them had gone at least once, and some went twice or more. Their parents insisted on them washing up after that, and the children complained but complied. They gave Cormag and me hugs and thanks, petted Brynhildr and Cormag without any of their earlier fear, and left. I watched them go, keeping up a smile, but that smile faded as I remembered that conversation. She had lost her family to bandits. Not a surprise, given everything, yet…"

"You look conflicted over something," Cormag whispered. He didn't look at me, but continued watching the children rush off. "What is it?"

"It's… nothing really," I replied softly. I bit my lip, trying to pick my words with care. "It's just that Orson… he became a knight because he lost his parents to bandits. He didn't want another child to suffer like that." Yet here I was, looking at a whole bunch of children who had. Because he hid himself and didn't even bother helping the people. "I was just a little…" I couldn't complete the thought, but it didn't matter. Cormag understood anyway, and wrapped a reassuring arm around my shoulders.

It was just so hard to believe. I couldn't believe Orson would've changed this much.

That wasn't the last refugee camp we came across. It wasn't even the second or third to last. Our progress slowed significantly because we chose to stop each time to help the survivors out as much as we could before moving on. So, we made it to Ivroria much later than we expected and, unfortunately, that led to there being more soldiers than we had originally planed for. Not enough to deter us, but enough to make us pause and rework our original infiltration plan.

"So, the main issue at the moment is looking for shelter," Innes summarized. Somehow, I'd ended up in the little tactical meeting, along with Eirika, Seth, Ephraim, Innes, L'arachel, and Joshua. I had no idea why, so I spent most of it being quiet and leaning against Joshua, wondering if I could escape. "Any suggestions? Since we don't have conveniently empty buildings?"

"Hey, those buildings made good shelter," Joshua joked. He grinned and winked, and I had to fight the urge to start braiding his ponytail. Since he was king and all, he ditched the hat, reluctantly, and wore his hair tied back. "They were probably kept around because the city is small anyway. There was nothing to repurpose them for, except maybe more storage."

"It was still convenient, and helpfully so, but we need a Renasi equivalent."

"There are the townhouses," Seth pointed out absently. His eyes were a little distant, likely remembering just how many there were. And how many wouldn't have owners anymore. "Many knights had them, if their families didn't live nearby and they didn't wish to live in the palace."

"Do you have one we can use, Seth?" L'arachel asked kindly. She made sure to smile. "We really only need one to start with, right?"

"We do, but no, I don't have one. My family's home was only a half a day's ride at most, and I was entrusted with guarding Prince Ephraim and Princess Eirika." Seth said the words easily, unbothered, but quite a few of us shared worried looks. Franz and Forde were orphans and Kyle's family lived much closer to the Frelia border, but Seth's family would have been close when Ivroria fell. I was terrified that they might've died. "But there are others. The trick will be getting inside. They'll be locked, likely. Though I suppose some thieves might've raided them."

"Thankfully, we've two of our own." L'arachel's smile took on a triumphant air, probably to try and keep our spirits high. "So, truly, we need only to find a place to start, yes?"

"Well, we could use Orson's," I volunteered with a shrug. I had to fight to keep from squirming as all eyes turned to me. I still had no idea why they asked me here, but hey, I could actually help, so yay? "I know where he kept the spare keys. Unless he cleared it out, which I doubt, we should be able to get in easily and it'll serve as a good place to hide while Colm and Rennac go pick the locks of others."

"You sure you're okay with that, Emma?" Ephraim asked quietly. He crossed his arms as he frowned, clearly worried. "That is…"

"I mean; I might need help getting there. I've only been once. But I was going to live there." I smiled at him, and he slowly relaxed, giving me a soft look. "He has three places, and he cycled through them. So, it'll be easier just to have me. Besides, I have practice infiltrating."

"Sadly."

"Blame your plans, love." I looked over to Innes, who actually looked like he was fighting back laughter. Probably because Ephraim went bright red. "So?"

There was a bit more discussion, but ultimately, it was decided to let me go in with Colm, Marisa, and Forde. Forde was a bit of a surprise, truthfully. Knights didn't normally do the infiltration work.

"So, I can't think of a way to politely ask this, so I'll just be my usual blunt self," I began as we snuck inside the city. Marisa's eyes darted around, keeping an eye out for trouble, while Colm walked beside her, perfectly relaxed. Forde walked with me, behind them. "Forde, why did you come along?"

"To be your shield, of course," Forde answered without missing a beat. He fixed the hood of his cloak, and reached ahead to fix Marisa's for her. "You are my lord's lover now, you know. Kyle and I are obligated to protect you." He winked and I rolled my eyes. "More seriously, you said you'd need help getting there, and I know this city the best out of us knights. Figured that would be useful. The wonders of actually going out to taverns, unlike certain prim and proper knights. And I've been to Orson's place before."

"Ah, I see." I nodded, and then looked around the streets. It was… it was strangely lifeless. There were people in the market, but none looked enthusiastic about it. There were children playing, but they went around tiredly. "I've only been here a few times, but…"

"Yeah, no. It's not normally like this." Forde set his jaw when we passed by a couple of people wearing incredibly loose clothing, and stained bandages. "Nothing like this."

"Looks like no one's cleaned or lit the street lamps for a while," Colm added. He glanced back at me with a sympathetic look. "No offense, Emma, but Orson's a really bad ruler."

"He's not ruling at all," I corrected. I flinched when I saw some too thin children, clinging to their far too tired mother. "Even a bad ruler would be better than this."

We walked in silence from then one, and made it to the townhouse without incident. Surprisingly, the spare key was in the first place I checked, the place he'd pulled it from after Monica's funeral, and we snuck around to the back door, just in case someone was actually watching. The door creaked as it opened, and we all walked inside quickly, prepared for anything. Except what we actually saw. At least, I wasn't prepared.

It was dusty. No, that was too tame. It was absolutely covered with dust. It was almost as bad as the embassies in Jehanna, which had been abandoned for literally centuries. I could still see the footprints of the Frelian spies, or so I thought. Maybe that was just my imagination. I didn't know. My brain just… stopped. I couldn't think at all.

"Holy…" Forde breathed, the first of us to speak. He looked around slowly, eyes wide. He kicked up dust each time he shifted his feet. "I've… I've never known this place to feel so dead."

"You mentioned coming here before," Marisa murmured. She was perfectly relaxed, probably because the dust made it quite clear that no one had been here for a while. "How many times?"

"A lot. Whenever my parents' death anniversaries came around, and I had to be alone, Orson would always let me stay here. He also let me hide when I just really wanted to draw and not be bothered." Forde laughed, but it was the laugh of someone who had no idea what else to do. "I can practically hear Monica weeping over the state of the house."

They talked more. I thought they might've. But I stopped paying attention. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut, and couldn't catch a breath. Slowly, feeling like nothing was quite real, I walked around the house, desperately hunting for something that wasn't forgotten in the dust. Nothing in the living room, and it looked odd without the trinkets that the Frelian spies had stolen and taken to Frelia castle. Nothing in the kitchen, except molded dishes in the sink and rotted food in the cupboards. Nothing in the guest rooms but beds that desperately needed to be aired out. Nothing on the stairs, save for tiny squeaks that hinted they needed to be fixed. In a flash of inspiration, though, I ran for the back room on the third floor, Orson's bedroom. Surely… surely that place wouldn't be dusty.

I wasn't sure why I got my hopes up, considering how everything else had been. But it had made sense at the time, and so, I felt like I'd been punched in the gut when I reached there and found it just as dusty as the rest. I rummaged through, wondering if, at least, he had taken something from here. But if he had, I couldn't see it. The good luck statue I'd gotten him for his birthday one year was on his desk in the corner. Monica's jewelry and makeup were scattered on the vanity, along with some vials of perfume. The clothes in the closet were untouched, with Orson's formal wear and Monica's dresses left to the dark. And, on the bed, was Orson's quilt, as dusty and musty as the rest.

I picked it up slowly, noting the weight, and studied it. It hadn't been washed in a while, and there were a couple of tears and holes that needed to be mended. I'd never seen it in anything but pristine condition. Orson had always, always, taken very good care of it. It was one of his treasures, like his wedding ring and knight crest. To see it simply abandoned was just…

"Emma?" Eirika's voice made me jump and I whirled to see her in the doorway. "Colm and Marisa returned to lead us here," she explained. "The townhouse is bigger than I expected."

"Yeah, it's one of the larger ones, with multiple floors and all," I replied. At least, I thought I did. She reacted like I did. But honestly, it felt like someone else was talking. "I think Orson had to fix it up, though. So, he got it for cheaper than he probably should've."

"I see." She clasped her hands in front of her, watching me closely. She knew. She knew I was out of it. "Emma."

"I'm sorry. I was telling the truth when I said I thought I'd be fine. I didn't expect to be so shaken. I've only been in here once before, you see. I stayed here after Monica's funeral. So, I didn't think I…" I trailed off, not sure of what to say, and then I held up the quilt so that she could see it. "Nice, isn't it?"

"It's very lovely. Where did he get it?"

"Well, actually, the story goes that my dad made it." I knew the story well. Orson called it one of his best memories. That memory, and the feelings associated with it, were why he became a knight. Just like Dad. "Dad had been off-duty, to help Mom out while she recovered from giving birth to me. Cleaning, cooking, watching Monica… those sorts of things. But then there was a bandit attack on the road, so of course, he went to help. That's just what knights do. Orson was one of the few survivors. His parents didn't make it."

"And your father brought him home."

"He did, along with the other survivors. But Orson… he kept complaining about the cold. He'd been horribly cold afterwards, and nothing could warm him." Orson said that, in retrospect, he was probably lonely and depressed, because his parents were gone and he was around strangers, but he hadn't really experienced loneliness like that before. So, all he could think was 'cold'. "So, my dad made him a quilt. This one. Mostly."

"Mostly?"

"Well, it's a bit bigger now. It had to be extended over the years, to account for Orson's growing." But the core was still the quilt Dad had made him. Orson couldn't bear to let it go. "He said the quilt always reminded him of 'home'. He would never feel lonely when he had it. I would've thought…" I would've thought he'd have it with him, at least. If there was one thing, one thing, in this entire townhouse that he'd take to the palace, it would be this. But here it was, dusty and smelling like it was in need of a good wash. "Ha…"

Eirika stepped to my side and tugged me into a hug. We both sat on the bed and she gently rocked me as I clung. I couldn't cry. I couldn't shake. But I needed this comfort. I needed the hug. This hurt. This hurt more than I thought it would. Orson, you big idiot…

It was decided that a handful of people would move in immediately, and that Colm and Rennac would begin picking locks in the morning while the first group worked on gathering allies, making plans, and getting the rest in. Those who didn't move in tonight camped on the outskirts of Ivroria, to monitor patrols and the like. Or something. That was what I understood, but gods knew I was out of it when it was explained to me, and it didn't help that I ended up going to bed not long after.

But perhaps because I went to bed so early, I ended up waking up in the middle of the night. I pushed myself up slowly, blinking blearing as I tried to process my surroundings, one of the guest rooms. I'd barred everyone from Orson's bedroom, but the rest of the rooms had been cleaned enough for us to sleep, providing we grouped up. I ended up sharing a room with Eirika, as per usual, and a quick looked proved she was fast asleep. Even when I stood up, she didn't stir, so I just fixed the blankets over Eirika and headed out of the room and towards the stairs. As I walked, I marveled at how large it was. When I'd first heard about the size, I had teased Orson mercilessly that he'd just wanted the extra space for whatever kids he and Monica would have. Now, though, it was a reminder of things that might've been. At least more of us would be able to work out of here.

Sighing, I made my way down the stairs, careful to move slowly to try and not wake anyone up. However, to my surprise, I found I wasn't the only one awake once I reached the first floor. Seth was standing in the mostly cleaned living room, staring at a spot on the wall. Or maybe seeing something that wasn't there anymore. I had no idea.

"Seth?" I called. It took a moment for him to glance back at me. "Evening?"

"Evening," he replied with a slight smile. It was sad and pained, surprisingly so. "My apologies. I can't get over how cold the place is."

"…How about some tea?" I headed to the kitchen, thankfully very clean. It had been a priority for… whoever ended up cleaning. I only knew there was a clean kettle and some tea leftover. "The packets are a little old, but they should still be good."

"That sounds good." He followed me into the kitchen, but didn't sit down at the table there. Instead, he stood by one of the windows, looking out while I fussed with the kettle and stove to get some water boiling. And nearly forgot the water, but I remembered just in time. "What has you awake, Emma?"

"I'm not sure. I just woke up." As the kettle began to slowly heat up, I began hunting for two clean mugs. It took a couple of tries before I found some. "So, Forde mentioned visiting here a lot. I suppose you did as well?"

"It used to be common knowledge among the knights that if you needed to leave the palace for a bit, or if you were out and had too much to drink, you could just come to Orson's house and be welcomed." Seth smiled nostalgically, eyes soft. "And when Monica visited, you practically had a line because everyone knew that you could get a home cooked meal here, with a smile and a laugh."

"So that's why she always made sure to bring extra spices and herbs whenever she went to visit Orson." I set the mugs on the counter and thumbed through the packets before just choosing two at random. They were all herbal teas, and even though they were old, I could smell the lavender. "Forde mentioned using this place as a sanctuary. Did you?"

"I did. The first time was because the court was singing one of those stupid songs of my 'exploits'…" He scowled and I had to laugh. "It was one that nearly resulted in me dying, along with a good friend. It always irritates me to hear it. But, since we were at the court, I tried to not show it."

"Yet Orson saw it anyway."

"He did. So, as soon as we could get away with leaving, he dragged me out of the palace and to here. Made some tea and declared 'go ahead and complain. While we are here, we are not on duty'."

"Sounds like him."

"Yes. He was always like that. I'd come here whenever I needed a breather, or when Orson noticed I was beginning to drag." Seth laughed, a strangely rueful sound. "It also wasn't uncommon for me to find Prince Ephraim here, sitting at the table and listening intently to whatever story Orson was telling. He snuck out often, but almost as often, he was safe and sound, just listening to Orson. I never learned if Orson went out to find him, or if Prince Ephraim just always made sure to come here."

"I never knew that. But, then again, everyone is careful to not talk about Orson around me, unless it's needed, and Orson was never one to brag about what he saw as basic decency." Giving sanctuary to people was just like him. He looked up a lot to Dad and, well… that's what Dad did. "He'd brag about others, though. I heard a lot about you, growing up. You two worked together a lot."

"We're of similar skill, and we're not that far apart in age, so we trained together often." Seth looked at me with a kind smile. "Though, I suppose I am worried about what he said about me."

"Always good things. The only complaints I ever heard was that you took things too seriously and needed to not be quite so dutiful." Of course, hearing that now, after all Orson had done… well, it felt like the worst advice ever. "But you two knew each other for a while, huh?"

"Longer than I'd like to admit."

"Aw, are you self-conscious about your age?" I managed a grin, and he actually rolled his eyes. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Seth. You're not quite an old man yet."

"Didn't Monica teach you to be respectful to your elders?"

"Maybe, but I'm good at conveniently forgetting those manners lectures." Both of us laughed, and while it didn't sound quite 'right', it didn't sound 'wrong' either. "Hey, Seth? I did have a point to that statement."

"About how long I've known Orson?"

"Yeah." I studied him closely, just finding myself curious. "Was it really a coincidence that of all the places you ended up, it was my house?"

"Well, yes and no." Seth shrugged, looking back outside. "I hadn't planned on it when Princess Eirika and I fled Ivroria. But when I realized that we needed to get off the road if we were to have a chance of escaping, we were near the turnoff to Rosewatch."

"Have you visited?"

"Once. You were out in the fields, I think. Orson was sad he didn't get to see you." He smiled slightly, laughing at the memory. "I have the turnoff memorized, though, because whenever we had a job that went that way, he'd always pause and gaze longingly in that direction. I'd remind him we had a job, and he'd sigh and continue on."

"It wouldn't have hurt you to have visited for a moment." But it did seem to fit them both. "So, it was coincidence that you happened to be near."

"Yes, and it was coincidence that Princess Eirika picked you house. I was too delierious from the wound and infection to really find the path. I'm still impressed that I managed to even get us close."

"Yeah, I remember how bad off you were." The kettle began whistling finally, and so I set about pouring the water into the mugs and dampening the stove's fire. "Are you okay?"

"We've already talked about the injury."

"Not that." I passed him a mug and kept one for myself. "About Orson."

"Ah." He fell silent, looking down at the tea as it slowly began to steep. "I've… honestly, Emma, I've simply been thinking of Orson as someone already dead. The Orson I knew, the Orson who was my friend, would've never have done any of this."

"Does that work?"

"Not really, no." At least he was honest. "But I'll do my duty. For his sake, and mine." He smiled warmly. "And for your sake, future queen."

"That's…" I went red and he laughed. It was the first laugh that had sounded 'right'. "Oh, you've been waiting to tease me about that, haven't you?"

"Perhaps a little."

He continued teasing me a little, before telling me stories from when Eirika and Ephraim were children, and he was their 'bodyguard', really a glorified babysitter. They were light, and cheerful enough to make us both smile and relax as we drank the tea. We both needed it.

The cemetery was devoid of people. I was grateful for that, because it meant I didn't have to be quite as vigilant on keeping the hood of my cloak up and thus, could focus more on not dropping my flowers.

"Thank you for coming with me," I told Garcia as we walked down the paths, heading for my family's graves. I'd begged to go, since I hadn't been since Monica's funeral, and Garcia volunteered to accompany me, so that I wasn't there alone. I'd asked if Forde and Franz wanted to come too, to visit their parents, but they both decided they'd wait until after Renais was free. They'd actually visited not long before all this happened. "I really do appreciate it."

"I was thinking about coming to visit Alex too, Emma," Garcia replied. He smiled sadly and looked up at the clouding sky. "Haven't been since I left the knights."

"I hope you're not thinking Dad would be mad about that. You've been raising your son. If anything, he'd scold you for not doing so."

"Funnily enough, he did scold me for not spending more time at home." He looked at me, and his smile warmed. "He'd be proud of you, by the way. He and Tabitha both."

"You think so?" I smiled back shyly, hiding behind my bundle of flowers. "I'm glad to hear that."

We fell silent again, having nothing more to really say, and eventually, we reached the graves, all three of them clustered together. I knelt down and divided up my flowers for them before brushing off the worse of the dirt and pulling up the weeds. As I did, though, I noticed something that broke my heart. Monica's tombstone… it was cracked and chipped around the base.

"Aw, damn…" Garcia muttered. He leaned over my shoulder, frowning at the damage. "That's just wrong."

"Do you think people have attacked the grave, because she was Orson's wife?" I asked sadly. I traced over the chips and cracks, fighting off the urge to cry. "That this was on purpose?"

"Could be." Garcia patted my back. "We'll get her a new one, once Ivroria is free."

"We'll have to anyway." Her tombstone proudly declared she was Orson's wife, but with him turning traitor… "I miss her. I miss them."

"You always miss the departed. You just learn how to live with the scars, eventually."

"Or you don't and go mad. Like Orson." I traced the letters on Monica's tombstone. "I should've supported him better. I shouldn't have been so caught up in my own grief."

"Why not? He lost his wife, yes, but you lost your sister, while still recovering from losing friends." He gripped my shoulder and I looked up to see him looking very serious. "What happened to Orson isn't your fault, Emma."

I smiled up at him, touched but not quite sure I could believe it. He nodded, understanding, and we both fell silent to 'talk' to the dead. I mouthed prayers and reassurances to my family, though I wasn't sure what exactly to say to them. I kind of just rambled, silently, and when I decided to stop, the wind suddenly kicked up, tugging playfully at my hair, much like how Monica would when she wanted to tease me or how Dad would ruffle my hair.

"Ha…" Garcia chuckled, looking up at the sky. "That was odd."

"The wind blowing?" I asked, frowning. There was always wind, though I had to admit that it had reminded me of my family. "Why was that odd?"

"Not the wind. I just thought I heard Alex on it, telling me to stop being so serious and just go kick some ass."

"Did he do that a lot?"

"Not really. Normally he was telling me to calm down." He grimaced. "Ross gets his hotheadedness honest, I'm afraid."

"Somehow, I can see that." I had to laugh, though it was soft. It felt wrong to laugh fully in a graveyard. "Do you want to visit Sir Felix's grave?"

"No, I'll wait until Forde and Franz come. Mostly because I don't know where it is here." Garcia smiled bitterly. "Like I said, I haven't been here since I left service. Though, in Felix's case, I didn't find out that he died until after his funeral. And it hurt too much to visit."

"It sucks, being the one left behind."

"It does. But, we survive, and we heal, and we forge our own lives."

"Or go mad."

"Or go mad. But neither of us are that type. We already would've gone mad if that was the case." He offered me his hand and pulled me up. "We should probably get back, though. Come on."

Reluctantly, I followed him out of the graveyard, knowing he was right even if I wanted to just sit there by the graves for a while longer. But that might've been why he was insistent, and why he was careful to keep a grip on me, even though the crowds weren't large enough for that. But, regardless, we returned to the townhouse without running into trouble, and Garcia jumped right back into work, helping to evacuate civilians into much safer areas. Normally, I'd be doing some sort of aerial patrol to get an idea of the enemies' movements, but Cormag took that over for the day, so I had some unexpected free time.

I debated a bit about what to do for a moment before deciding to have a little bit of fun. So, I walked down the halls of the perfectly cleaned townhouse, all the way to Orson's former office, now Ephraim's. Ephraim was hard at work, of course, reading through information and civilian complaints. They weren't entirely happy with Ephraim or Eirika, of course, but they were willing to give anyone a chance if it meant ousting Orson. And both Eirika and Ephraim were absolutely determined to not betray that trust. So, Ephraim did all the paperwork he needed to, while Eirika talked with the civilians, learning firsthand just what they needed.

Thus, Ephraim was completely absorbed in his work, not noticing at all that I'd walked in until I made it behind him and kissed his check. "I'm back," I told him needlessly, laughing at how red his face became. "Did you miss me?"

"Always," he replied, smiling. He twisted to smile at me, and I leaned against his chair, smiling. "You're a lovely sight."

"Lovelier than reports and maps, I'm sure."

"Lovelier than anything, really."

"That's…" I went red and he grinned. "Argh, why does that work on me?"

"Because I'm very, very lucky." He reached up to caress my cheek, laughing. "How else would I have caught your eye?"

"It wasn't luck for that. Or just luck."

"Really? So, why did you?"

"Nope. You have to be very good to get that out of me." I went redder, though, and glanced away. This really wasn't very fair, but honestly, I just got far too embarrassed and tongue-tied when I did try. "Though, I suppose you are being good." I eyed his stack of papers, gauging the size. "Is that twice the amount of papers as yesterday?"

"Yep." He sighed gustily, picking up one. "You only get more information until you move out. Not less."

"I suppose." Still, that was a lot. "Please tell me that they're at least organized."

"Nope."

"Ephraim, seriously?" I picked up a stack and began organizing them myself, separating out civilian things from spies. "You are allowed to make the work easier on yourself, you know."

"I just dove into it, really." He smiled ruefully. "My recklessness showing. Along with my stubbornness."

"Maybe a bit of pride as well." I smirked at him and he shrugged, accepting the teasing. "Whatever. I love you."

"I love you too." He caught my hand and kissed it. I blushed again, and tried desperately to hide it. His smirk told me how miserably I failed. "Thank you."

Still blushing too much to properly reply, I simply continued organizing the papers for him, starting first by 'spy' and 'civilian', and then separating them out to their own little categories. Spies became 'outside the city', 'Ivroria', 'castle', while the civilian ones separated more by what sort of things they asked for. Cleaning supplies for shelters, for instance, or first aid kits. Things that looked like they could wait were tucked at the bottom, while more urgent things were on top. The particularly urgent ones, like some potentially poisonous snakes making a home in one of the shelters, I passed directly to him.

After a while of working in silence, Ephraim snagged my hand again. He didn't kiss it this time, though, but simply tugged to catch my attention. "Emma?" he began softly. He looked very serious, but there was some hesitancy in his eyes. "Where do you want to be during the battle?"

"Huh?" I replied, mostly because I didn't know how else to react. That was… that was an odd question. "What do you mean?"

"Do you want to be part of the group that fights Orson? Do you want to be as far away as possible?" He made sure to hold my gaze as he asked. "Where do you want to be?"

"Why are you…?" It took me a second to realize just what he was asking. Or, more importantly, why. He was asking… he was asking, really, what I'd need. Did I need to be among the ones killing Orson? Did I need to be away? "Oh, Ephraim." I leaned down to kiss his cheek again. "You're the sweetest."

"That's… um…" He blushed again, but did desperately try to maintain some form of seriousness. "Emma."

"Ephraim, all I need is to see the body." I sat on the arm of his chair and turn my hand so that I could hold his, carefully intertwining our fingers. His hands were callused, and there were angry red impressions on his fingers from the pen, showing how hard he'd been working. "Other than that, I want to be stationed wherever I am most useful."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. But, as I said, it's sweet of you to take that into account." I gave him a stern look, though, leaning down so that I was a little more level here. "Though, I am hoping you're asking the others about it."

"I am. You're just the only one here. But Seth, Forde, Kyle… I'm making sure to ask them too."

"Good." I smiled at him. "They deserve the chance too."

"Of course." He stared at me still and smiled. "May I kiss you?"

"Huh?"

"I would very much like to kiss you. May I?"

"Ha… of course." I leaned in a bit to make it easier for him and smiled into the kiss at how gentle it was. I chased him when he pulled back, kissing him a little more intently, and he responded by kissing me fiercely, actually standing to give him a better angle. Laughing a bit, I leaned against the desk as he kissed me again and actually hopped up to sit on it as my knees began giving out. His kisses were still a little clumsy, but even in their fierceness, they were incredibly sweet and warm and…

"Ephraim, do you have… oh freaking hell, really?" Innes's voice startled us both and we broke apart to see him in the doorway, eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Make out later, damn it, we've work to do," he growled. "Seriously, wait for a break."

"To be fair, I wasn't expecting anyone to just come barging in," Ephraim replied. His breath was a little ragged and he was a little bit disheveled, particularly his hair and shirt. My hands might've wandered a bit. "Most people knock, you know."

"Still, you do need to get back to work," I noted. I reached up to smooth down his hair and fix his shirt. He caught my hand and kissed my palm before helping me off his desk. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"Sure, sounds good."

"Lock the door next time you two decide to make out," Innes half-suggested, half-begged, probably mostly to remind us that he was still here. At our unrepentant grins, he sighed gustily, but caught my shoulder as I passed him to head out the door. "You might want to fix your shirt before seeing others."

"Ah, right," I murmured. Now I was blushing, but I also felt bouncy and giddy. I did make sure to smooth out my shirt, though. "Sorry for delaying things?"

"Just go on so that he stops being distracted."

"Fine, fine." I rolled my eyes and blew Ephraim a kiss before actually leaving. Ephraim's laughter followed after me, even after Innes closed the door. Of course, walking down the hall left me, again, with unexpected free time. But, a quick glance out the window showed that it was getting close to dinner, so…

"Petal, there you are." Joshua jogged down the hall to catch up with me, and he took one look at my hair and clothes before grinning. "Well, well, well…" he half-sang, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "Enjoying time with your boyfriend, petal?"

"Maybe a little?" I replied, feigning innocence. For all of a second. Then I grinned up at him and he laughed. "That's not a bad thing, right? Even though things are so serious?"

"If it's a bad thing, then many of us are guilty. Natasha and me, for instance. Tethys and Gerik. Neimi and Colm. Why, even Amelia and Franz, though they're still in shy smile stages." He ruffled my hair, mussing it up further. "You're okay. You deserve to be happy, especially right now."

"Thanks, brother." I let the grin soften to a smile, touched that he made a point to say I deserved happiness. Even with the giddiness, I felt guilty. But I was slowly moving past it. "Anyway, how are you liking Renais? How are the Jehannans doing?"

"We're good. Most are eager to get into battle, but no need to worry about hotheads. The older ones are reining in the younger. The main problem is that they want to spar more than we can let them, for now."

"Good." I nudged his side. "So, you were looking for me? What's up?"

"Oh, I just wanted to spend time with my darling petal, seeing as I'm not busy. For once." He shrugged. "Nothing else, really. For once, things aren't going incredibly wrong."

"That's rare." But it did make me happy that he'd spend at least part of his break with me. "Well, in that case, I was thinking about cooking. Want to be a taste tester?"

"Always." He laughed. "Lady Luck is smiling on me today, clearly."

"I'm glad you approve." I snagged his hand and started dragging him to the kitchen. "Come on, then! Before an emergency steals you away, brother!"

On the day of the actual assault, I was more than a little annoyed. Why? Ephraim and Eirika insisted on confronting Orson openly to see if he'd surrender. While wanting to avoid a fight was admirable, and very… well, very Eirika at least… I was still annoyed.

"I can't believe they're doing this," I grumbled, glowering down at where I could barely see them. Fliers were set up high in case of a sudden assault, which just made me nervy. Which didn't help my mood at all. "I told them that Orson has poisoned daggers, damn it. Reminded them, rather. Yet what does their plan do? Make them targets perfect for throwing knives."

"That's why you have permission to fire freely," Tana gently reminded me. Fliers were split between 'east' and 'west', on either side of the main street to the castle, with one wyvern and one pegasus on each side. I'd requested Tana with me, because I knew she could keep me in good humor. "If you think he's going for one, you can shoot."

"I'd feel better if they didn't do this at all." I wished they'd just do some sort of ambush tactics or something. But this was the plan that Ephraim and Innes had come up with, and that Seth and Joshua had approved. I could've shaken them all. "Way better."

"It'll be okay." Tana flew Achaeus closer so that she could gently bump shoulders with me. Hugging would be a little too awkward at the moment, but the affection was still there. "They know the warning. I know they listened. And it's a good distraction."

"If they'd at least wear helmets, I'd feel better, but who in this army ever wears helmets anymore?" Even I didn't. My old one had long since dented to the point that it was better used as scrap metal. "We have Restore staves, right?"

"Yes, and L'arachel is right in front with everyone, with that and a mend staff. Providing that there's not a headshot…"

"And they're not wearing helmets…!" I growled and lightly punched the front of my saddle to bleed off some frustration. Brynhildr crooned to try and reassure me. "Argh! Why do I love these idiots?"

"Because we're lucky?" Tana grinned and I sighed, but relaxed and smiled. This was exactly why I asked to be stationed with her. "Oh, hey, speaking of love, you think that Ephraim will bring up your relationship?"

"I told him that if he announced it in this way, I'd hurt him." Mostly, though, I was glad she could bring it up without a slight wince. She'd been the second person I told, right after Eirika, and while she'd been happy, I'd seen the pain. Now, though, it seemed her happiness for us, and her love of teasing, had eased most of it away. "Gods, look at us. Right before a big turning point in our fight, and we're talking like we're gossiping at lunch."

"Nothing wrong with that~" She winked and I laughed. "After all, so long as we're serious when… oh, that's some timing."

I almost asked, but then I saw that there was movement on the balcony, a figure stepping out onto it. My breath caught when I saw it was Orson, but he looked… he looked bad. He looked like he hadn't eaten in a while. He looked like he hadn't slept much. He looked… honestly, he looked like he did right before he tried to commit suicide, in those horrible days right after Monica's funeral.

"Well, this is as brash and hotheaded as I would expect from you, Prince Ephraim," he commented coolly, his voice only carrying because of the silence. He stopped right by the edge of the railing and looked down on them. It was a disdainful look, an expression I had never seen him wear. "I suppose you must be convinced that this is a battle you can win."

"You should really take mocking lessons from Emma," Ephraim retorted instantly, voice dry. From up here, I couldn't see his expression but I knew it was droll. "She's done a far better job at it."

"Are you trying to use my sister against me?"

"No, I think you did a fine enough job turning her against you. I'm commenting that your mocking abilities pales in comparison to hers."

"Though, that is not why we've done this, Orson," Eirika added. She and Ephraim stood side by side, in the main road in front of the gates. As they talked, I knew others were getting into position, but I still wished they'd gone for a plan that didn't involve them as bait. "Orson, won't you please surrender? You were one of our finest knights, and I am sorry we did not support you as we needed."

"Pretty words don't erase the filth, Princess Eirika," Orson replied. He kept his voice even, almost polite, but there was definitely a trace of mockery in it. "Apologies after the fact don't change anything."

"No, they don't. But that doesn't stop me from being sorry, and from wanted to fix my mistakes." Eirika stepped forward slightly, and Ephraim stopped her from walking any closer. "So, Orson, will you not try to let Ephraim and I fix our mistakes?"

"There is nothing either of you can do. Never has been."

"You didn't always believe that, Orson." Seth stepped out of the shadows then, and I was startled. The original plan had involved only Eirika and Ephraim being the distraction. But, given what I knew, perhaps he couldn't just stand back. Orson might've been Ephraim's guard, Ephraim and Eirika's knight, but he had been Seth's friend. "You once talked happily of the Renais you felt they would create," Seth countered gently, looking up at Orson. He was mounted, because of the plan. Ephraim and Eirika stepped to the side to let him have this moment. "You once believed in the future."

"I was wondering where you were, Seth. You're never far from them when danger is near," Orson said. Unlike with Ephraim and Eirika, though, there was no mockery or exasperation in his voice. It was just genuine respect. "You're an impressive knight, Seth. You would sacrifice everything for king and country, with not even a moment's pause. It's a pitiful, unrewarding life, through and through."

"It is my change, Orson, and my hope. It was once yours as well."

"So, you still believe."

"The burden of protecting the people is overwhelming. It requires a person of extraordinary character." Seth sat tall on his horse, a dignified picture of Renais's greatest knight. It contrasted sharply with Orson's appearance. "But Prince Ephraim and Princess Eirika have that. I have always thought so."

"Ha…" Orson shook his head, smiling in amusement. "I've never associated you with blind idealism, Seth."

"It is not blindness or idealism. It is my truth. It pains me that your grief has darkened your world to the point that you can no longer see it."

Orson replied. I knew he did, because I saw his mouth move, and I saw Tana roll her eyes. But I saw something else that made all the rest of it drain away. It was a simple 'twist'. A twist. Orson twisted his arm slightly, a barely noticeable movement. Just a bit 'odd', except I knew it wasn't odd at all. I knew that was a specific movement to free up one of his knives.

So, I brought up my bow in an instance, and aimed the arrow for his head and neck. But I… I couldn't release the arrow. I couldn't. My hand shook, but no matter how much I resolved myself to it, I couldn't get it to release the arrow. Not until I changed my target to the less-immediately-lethal arm. Only then could I release the arrow and I flinched without meaning to when it thudded into his shoulder.

He yelled and jerked from the pain, knife going flying and clanging against the stone ground of the balcony. Orson glared at the arrow, frowning, before looking up. And he froze, because there I was, bow still in hand, doing my best to keep my expression impassive. I wondered how I looked to him. Flying on a wyvern, wielding a bow, dressed in black and dark grey leather armor, hair braided back… I thought I looked very different than the Emma who never went to war. I thought I looked very different than the Emma who went to Renvall.

Regardless of how I looked, he continued staring. At least, he did until a couple more arrows thudded into him, courtesy of Neimi and Innes. Orson, wisely, ducked inside to avoid more arrows, just as Ephraim yelled for the gates to open. They opened easily, because we had the Jehannans sneak in, and so our forces charged inside. Seth took center with the cavalry. Ephraim took the west, while Eirika took the east. Tana and I should've flown off to do our parts, but Tana made no move to do that, and I… Well, I…

"Emma?" Tana called gently. She rested a hand on my cheek, frowning at how tense I was. "Emma, do you need to…?"

"I'm just cursing myself," I muttered. I gripped my bow tightly enough that I swore my bones creaked. "I had a good shot."

"I saw. You got his shoulder!" She giggled, beaming at me. "That was so cool!"

"But I had a better one. At his head." But I didn't take it. I couldn't take it. I might've saved all of us trouble, but instead I…

"Oh, Emma…" Tana's smile softened as she realized the problem, and took my hands, loosening my grip on the bow and making sure to catch it. "Even if you did, the Grado soldiers would still fight, you know. They don't really obey him."

"Right, but…"

"The only 'buts' around here are our very nice asses." Tana's joke, and unexpected curse, made me burst into laughter. "Got you~!" She rested her hand on my cheek again and grinned. "Relax, Emma. You protected them. That's enough."

"I… okay." I didn't quite feel that way, but I could believe her. So long as she did believed in me, I felt I could push through. "We should go with our next step, huh?"

"Yep. But only if you're up for it."

"I can. I promise."

"Then let's go!"

We both arced around and flew over the city, hunting for Innes and Neimi. They'd been set up on roofs to have a good angle and ample time to aim at Orson for their own shots, though they avoided headshots to maximize accuracy. The plan had originally been for Tana to pick up Innes and I would pick up Neimi. However, the enemy had moved more quickly than anticipated, and Innes had more enemies near than Neimi. So, Tana and I switched, and I had Brynhildr screech and tear into the closest soldiers before hopping onto the roof when Innes was.

Innes, for his part, took the change in mount with ease, climbing on without any complaint. "The plan had me dropped off onto the balcony where Orson was," he explained as we lifted off. "Along with Gerik's group. I'm assuming Orson has already retreated to a more secured area for treatment, so we can secure those higher floors."

"Got it," I replied, pulled Brynhildr around to head for the balcony and the gates. But the sight just reminded me of… "I'm sorry."

"For?"

"I had a better shot and didn't take it."

"…Ah." There was an awkward pause before Innes reached up and gripped my shoulder. "A wound like that on his dominant arm means he won't be able to fight as effectively. It also opened his guard for Neimi and I to cripple him further. You did well."

It was a bit of an awkward comfort, but the fact that he even tried meant a lot, so I smiled at him over my shoulder before dropping him off on the balcony. I then turned towards the gates to pick up Gerik, as he was the first one I saw. He noticed my off mood instantly, but didn't say anything. He just reached around to give me a hug, and an understanding smile. I wondered if there had been times in the past where he had a 'good shot' and couldn't take it. I'd ask him after the battle. Him and Joshua, and maybe Gilliam, Garcia, and Seth. They had a lot of experience fighting, after all. Maybe they could show me how to feel better about it.

The battle outside was very chaotic for a number of reasons. Mainly because it was just us four fliers tearing through the skies and preventing reinforcements. Everyone else was inside the castle, because that's where the bulk of their forces were. Our job was to make sure they didn't have to worry about anyone besides those in the castle.

Grinding my teeth, I had Brynhildr flip upside down as we dodged another wyvern rider and I fired an arrow through their neck. Brynhildr twisted to rake her claws through the wyvern's wing, just to make sure, and we continued flying above the city, looking for our next target. It was difficult, because I was one of two fliers actually on 'enemy' duty. Parts of the city were on fire, and so two of us had been diverted to fire duty. I had no idea who else, but I guessed Vanessa. There was no time to check if my guess was correct, though. I barely had the time to be thankful for the fact that we completed the civilian evacuations. Some would be homeless, likely, but we at least didn't have to pull off rescues in the middle of all of this. That would've been madness.

During a turn while checking for more enemies, Brynhildr suddenly screeched in horrible pain and began dropping. I bent low over her and threw my weight to help her twist and manage a hard landing on one of the houses. My bones rattling from the impact, I quickly unbuckled myself and dismounted to try and determine what happened. I found it instantly; Brynhildr got hit by a ballista bolt, right at the wing joint where the armor didn't quite protect her. Of all the damn luck.

I dug my heels in and pulled on the ballista bolt, Brynhildr whimpering the whole time. When it started moving, I belatedly wondered if I shouldn't have pulled the bolt out, since you shouldn't pull arrows out, but Brynhildr leaned sharply away to help me, and it came out with a spurt of blood, followed by a little bit of dribbling. I dropped the bolt on my feet, and almost went to my pack to get a vulnerary or elixir, but Brynhildr growled and used her wing to knock me down. A good thing too, since a ballista bolt flew over us, close enough for the wind to ruffle my hair. I looked out and saw I had a good shot at the ballista user. But there were also some wyverns heading our way.

"Brynhildr, head up," I ordered. Brynhildr nodded and launched herself into the air, free to use her full strength and fury without having to worry about me. A good thing, since I could see how labored her flying was thanks to the injury. Being able to fight without worrying about me was the only way she would survive a fight at this point.

So, I focused on shooting. First the ballista user, with two arrows through the neck, followed by targeting anyone that looked like they were carrying a bow. No one really thought to look up at the roof, only checking the skies, so I had time to pick my shots, and take out enemies quickly as Brynhildr mauled the wyvern riders overhead.

"Emma?" Cormag's worried, mildly desperate actually, shouting caught my ear at some point, but I shot a few more enemies before looking up to see him flying near Brynhildr. Genarog was actually a bit under her, taking some of the weight off her injured wing. "Emma?!"

"Down here!" I called, waving. He looked around me a bit before finding me, and smiling in relief. "She got hit by a ballista! Can you help me check it out?"

"Yeah, but let's get to a more covered area." He had Genarog fly down and held out a hand. "Up we go. I don't want you flying on Brynhildr until we check."

"Sounds good." I took the hand and swung onto Genarog behind him, noticing something immediately. "Wow, damn, he really is a lot smaller. He can carry both of us, right?"

"He's not that much weaker than Brynhildr, you know." Cormag rolled his eyes and had us up in the air again, situated a little bit under Brynhidr to help take the weight off her wing. I reached over to pet her, reassuring her that everything was fine. She tried to croon to reassure me, but as her flying became more and more labored, it was hard to do anything but worry.

It was an absolute relief when we found a cleared area, probably some sort of park, where we could tend to her. A quick check proved that it wasn't a bad injury per se, just messy and in an awkward spot. Based on placement, the angle of the injury, and the long scratch against the armor, it looked like it had just been an unlucky deflection. Without the armor, it would've been a shot through the heart.

"Well, it seems like General Glen saved me again, huh?" I murmured as we bandaged up the injury as best as we could. It really was in an awkward place, like trying to bandage the webbing between the thumb and the rest of the fingers. "Freaking hell."

"He'd be laughing," Cormag replied. We got the last of the bandaging secured and Cormag sighed, petting Brynhildr's snout. "We should really get a healer among us fliers. Or a lot more long-ranged healing options for us. Especially if we're going to press into Grado."

"You want to learn?"

"I have no ability with magic. At all. Do you?"

"I have to keep up training with lances and bows. I'm not adding a third. I like being able to laugh with my friends and kiss my boyfriend, thank you very much."

"Okay point. Maybe Vanessa or Tana?"

"Maybe."

"There you guys are!" Vanessa and Tana landed, and Tana immediately hopped off to run to me, give me a hug, and then coo worriedly at Brynhildr while Cormag and I finished bandaging. "Everything okay?" Vanessa continued, dismounting as well. She had a cut across her neck, and she winced as she rolled her shoulder. "Gods, we really need more healers if we're going to be doing things like this." She frowned when Cormag and I immediately started laughing. "Mind sharing the joke?"

"Emma and I were literally just complaining about the lack of healers," Cormag explained, grinning. It took a bit for both of us to calm down. "So you two were looking for us?"

"Yes, mostly because we have the city and skies secure. Finally. But, you two haven't answered me. Everything okay?"

"Brynhildr got hit by a ballista."

"Ballista can all die in a fire," Tana growled, petting Brynhildr's face. Brynhildr licked her cheek to reassure her that she really was okay. "Achaeus and I almost got shot down too. Thanks for the warning, Cormag."

"No, that one was all Genarog," Cormag immediately corrected. He taped down the last of the bandaging and stepped back. "He started shrieking before I even saw the bolt. I was preoccupied with a wyvern rider decided my face needed a lance through it."

"Glad you decided against it. Your face is nice just as it is."

"That's…"

"Seriousness now, please," Vanessa interrupted. I playfully pouted at her, because I found that conversation strangely interesting, but she shook her head and pointed to the castle. "Much as I understand the battle-fever making all of us a little bouncy and scatterbrained now that we're not in a fight."

"Yes, yes, Vanessa," Tana sighed. She sulked a little, but I focused on Cormag. Who was blushing a bit. He caught me looked and glowered, but I just grinned back. "What was it that you wanted again?"

"We should let them know inside that our part is done, so that they have less to worry about. So, we need a messenger."

"Ah."

"Why don't I go?" I volunteered. All three of them looked immediately worried, so I pointed to Brynhildr. "I'm grounded. That's an injury right at the wing joint. Now, if you guys don't mind that, sure, but the choice is basically 'three fliers to do patrols' or 'two fliers to do patrols with one grounded person'."

"Well, yes…" Vanessa agreed reluctantly. She still was hesitant. "But will you be okay?"

"I'm not going to go hunt out Orson or anything."

"I'm not worried about that. I'm worried you'll freeze just long enough for someone to hurt you, Emma." Vanessa shook her head, braid swaying even after the movement ended. "Regardless of how resolved you are, this is your brother. He might be mad, but…"

"That's…" I sighed, but smiled. Really, everyone was far too kind. "I'll be okay. I plan on just going in and then leaving. Promise. With luck, I won't even have to fight."

"Take your lance, just in case."

"Of course."

"If you get turned around and lost, just head to a window and call out," Tana advised with a wink. She came over to hug me, though, and I could tell by how she clung that she was worried. "The second and third floors have a bunch."

"And we'll want to do one more patrol around to be certain, so Emma, wait until we give you another all-clear," Vanessa ordered. She gave her Titania an onceover before mounting up again. "Let's do this quickly."

Castle Renais was a damn maze. It really was. I was lost within seconds. However, by sheer luck, I didn't run into any enemy patrols and the fighting was loud enough that I could just follow the sound to the others.

I poked my head inside a large room, perhaps an entry hall, and looked around curiously for whoever happened to be closest. "Franz!" I called when I saw him. I waved when he jumped and looked around wildly. "Hey, over here!"

"Ah, Emma!" Franz replied. He jogged over, wiping sweat and blood out of his eyes. "What are you doing inside?"

"Vanessa wanted to let you all know that we have the outside clear, and we're going to continue doing patrols. Brynhildr took a bad hit, so I volunteered to deliver it." I shrugged, and glanced around. "How's it going here?"

"We're doing well! Most of the castle is secured, actually. We think Orson is in the throne room, and we haven't visited the royal wing yet, but otherwise…" Franz shrugged, but smiled. "So, deliver the message for you?"

"If you don't mind. I'd like to get outside as soon as possible." I knew Tana, Cormag, and Vanessa would worry badly until I was. "If you happen to deliver it to Ephraim, and he looks like he needs a laugh, pass on my love? And if you happen to deliver it to Eirika, tell her that I'm okay, and that we need to make up for the missed market trip. It should make her laugh."

"I will." He paused, for some reason. "Wait a second. I should've been politer."

"Why?"

"Well, I'm a knight of Renais, and-"

"Call me by title, and I will hurt you." I sighed gustily, barely resisting the urge to facepalm. Yeah, that part of being with Ephraim was going to be very annoying. But, hey, if it was the only annoyance, I could deal. Mostly. "Look, Seth doesn't change how he addresses me, and if prim and proper Seth doesn't change it."

"Oh, good. I'm used to calling you 'Emma'." Franz grinned. "I'll make sure the others know. But message first!"

"And staying alive first, okay?"

"Yep!" He disappeared into the chaos, and I sighed again, but this time with a smile. It was rather sweet of him to consider that. I supposed.

But with my message delivered, I got the hell out of the room as quickly as I could, intent on returning outside. As I headed down the hall, though, I had to duck down a different path as I came across a patrol. A large patrol that I didn't think I could just hide and wait for it to pass. So, since I knew I was lost anyway, I decided to just go down the different hallway to look for stairs or a window. Except I almost ran into another patrol. And then another. And then another. And then another. It was almost hilarious how many I ran into, considering I ran into none on the way in. Almost.

Grinding my teeth in frustration and exasperation, to the point that my jaw ached, I turned into a random room, wondering if I'd run into another patrol or if I'd finally get lucky. But it was neither. Instead, I froze, because… because this… of all the places I'd end up in this very large palace, of all the rooms I'd turn into… this was the throne room. It had large sections of the floor and walls gouged out, but the throne itself was intact. And sitting on the throne room, looking utterly bored, was Orson.

This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to see him alive again. I wasn't supposed to see him here.

"Emma?" Orson called. He stood up quickly, moving a bit stiffly from pain. But he smiled and, damn him, it was his normal, warm smile. "Emma! I'm glad to see you're well!"

I ran. I stared at him for a moment and then I ran. Unfortunately, though, the rapid footsteps behind me told me Orson was chasing. He might've even shouted for me, but my pulse was thudding too loudly in my ears for me to hear anything. I just focused entirely on hunting for any sign of a window or a staircase. Anything to get me out of here and away from here.

When I finally found a staircase, however, I managed to tangle up my feet and trip, hitting the ground hard. I scrambled up quickly, slipping a bit, and by that point, Orson had caught up and snatched my arm. I jerked out of his grip and stumbled away a few steps, turning to face him. He was bleeding. His wounds from earlier were bleeding, and when I looked, I could see a small blood trail, marking where he'd chased me. Because, of all the scenarios that could've happened, this was the one thing I didn't want.

"Well, you've gotten faster," Orson commented. He smiled so gently, and I felt like sobbing. "Still, this is good. Monica is in the royal wing, just upstairs. You can go see her, and-"

"Does nothing get through the fog in your head?" I snapped. I took another step back, gripping my lance tightly. "In case you have forgotten, I am here with Ephraim and Eirika to get you out of this castle and to try and save Renais."

"They won't be able too. Ephraim is too irresponsible. Eirika is too nice."

"Well, they'll do a better job than you. You're the one letting bandits slaughter people in front of their children." I glared at him, anger taking over. "Also, don't insult my best friend and boyfriend, okay? You don't get to do that, given what you've done."

"…Boyfriend?"

"I date whoever I please, thank you very much." I judged the situation and, in my anger, settled into a stance. I was far too pissed off by all of this. "But, tell you what. If you beat me, I'll let you take me to 'Monica'. But only then."

"Emma…" Orson's expression crumpled. "Please, she's just up-"

"Duel or let me leave. Because my sister is dead, and I am not mad enough to pretend otherwise. I'm not you."

Orson looked at me very sadly, but he did draw his sword. That just made me angrier, because… because it was like Seth said. The Orson I knew never would've done things like this. The Orson I knew died with Monica. So, with all my frustration, I swung into him and the duel began.

I had a lot of advantages with this. For one thing, I had a lance and, thus, a much longer reach than him. And Orson was used to fighting while mounted, and so was a bit weaker when dismounted. And he wasn't in the best of health. And his dominant arm was injured. And he was bleeding from his other arrow wounds. And he wasn't in full armor. And he wouldn't resort to his poisoned daggers. And he fought me like I was a young girl with no training, not a person who had been through war. And he didn't want to hurt me or worse, kill me. So, he held back, both unintentionally and intentionally. And I didn't.

Of course, that didn't mean I didn't take injuries, of course. Regardless of everything, Orson had a lot more experience on me. And, annoyingly, most of the wounds were on my legs, since they were one of the few places I wasn't armored now. But they weren't deep. They were only annoying. Because he wouldn't risk me dying.

I had no such qualms. I was furious at him for doing all of this. I was frustrated that I was in this situation. No small part of me was pissed off that he wouldn't take me seriously, despite everything I'd gone through. A very large part of me screamed for 'redemption', for failing to just shoot him dead when I could've and sparing myself all this nonsense.

So, when he let down his guard, I was sickeningly elated. I dodged one of his strikes, spun to build up momentum, and drove my lance straight through his abdomen with all that fury and frustration behind it. He gasped at the impact, and spat up blood instantly. His legs gave out almost instantly, and he slumped against me. His sword clattered to the ground next to us with a dull clang that echoed far too loudly in the silence that followed.

"How…?" he gasped out. His voice was wet, and he coughed up more blood. "How did you… get so skilled…?"

"Seth trained me," I retorted. I braced myself and tried to tug the lance out. It wouldn't move on the first jerk. "You always said he was a kind man, and a brutal teacher."

"I suppose…" On the second jerk, my lance was freed and he fell to his knees, blood spraying everywhere. I'd hit a lot of vital things. "I…"

"Why?" The question was out before I could stop it. "Why did you do this? Why do anything of this?!" My voice cracked. "Answer me, damn it!"

"I just wanted…" He laughed and fell to his side. He pushed himself on his back, slipping in his own blood, so that he could keep looking at me. "I just wanted… us to be happy again. I wanted to go back… to that time, when you and Monica… were both smiling."

"You…" Tears gathered in my eyes and I choked back a sob. I hadn't expected to start crying. I hadn't… "My idiot big brother… I could've learned to be happy again. In fact, I did. I don't deserve it, but I did."

"You do deserve it. You… and Monica…" He smiled, blood seeping from his mouth. "You deserved all the happiness in the world… I just… wanted you two… to have it…"

Those were his last words. I didn't know if he died right after or if he died a few breaths later. But those were his last words. And when I realized that, I collapsed, gasping and coughing as I tried, and failed, to ward off the sudden wave of tears that flooded me. I didn't expect to cry. I didn't expect… I thought I'd be okay with this. Well, maybe not okay-okay, but I didn't… I didn't expect to feel like I'd been punched… no, that I had been trampled.

After who the hell knew how long, though, that flood eased into something that I could manage. I coughed and choked a bit more, but I managed to get my breathing back under control, all of me under control. Once I was certain of that, mostly certain of that, I pushed myself up, using the lance as a crutch as my legs attempted to give out again. The burning pain crawling up reminded me of the injuries I'd suffered, but I made myself move and climb up the stairs. Absently, I noticed the tiny blood trail I was leaving, and hoped that no enemies would follow it. But I suppose they'd have to find Orson's corpse first, and that might distract them enough. Maybe.

I made it to the top of the stairs, aching and in pain, and I paused, noticing I had a couple of options for where I could go. Tana had mentioned that there were a lot of windows on this floor, but there were none where I could immediately see. I'd have to walk more, sadly. The question was, though, which way? I was a little too tired to decided, and yet, I knew I had to.

"…Ing…?"

A sound. A faint sound down the hall. That sound caught my attention and, stupid me, I followed it. Aside from that sound and my clunking footsteps, everything was silent. And there was no sign of windows, casting everything in shadow.

"…Ling…?"

I paused at an intersection, looking this way and that before deciding which way was louder, and continued on. I kicked up dust, like no one had been back here in a while. Or no one had cleaned here for a while.

"…Arling…?"

As the voice grew louder, my steps slowed, dread filling me. There was something familiar about the voice. There was something familiar about the tone, the inflection of the word. But I shouldn't be hearing it. I was never supposed to hear it again.

"…Darling…?"

I finally found a door that was cracked open and I pushed on it to walk inside. Unlike the hallways, this area was bright, sunlight streaming through the windows triumphantly. The room itself was also bright, brightly colored rather, with various rugs and tapestries and beautiful flowers. Tending to some of those flowers, in a vase on the nightstand by the bed, was a figure wearing a simple, light blue dress with grey lace on the edges. A dress I knew very well. I'd made it, with Helen's help.

"Darling?" The figure turned, long brown hair tumbling down her back, partially braided to keep out of her face. Kind green eyes were warm and sparkling, even though they seemed to have trouble focusing. After a moment, the figure smiled, soft and gentle, and she opened her arms wide. "Emma!" And she said my name with Monica's voice and Monica's face.

"Monica?" I called, voice cracking and shaking. This wasn't possible. This wasn't… it wasn't… "Monica, what the… how the…?"

"Emma!" Seemingly ignoring how panicked I was becoming, Monica raced over and hugged me tightly. It was a very bony hug. The dress I had made, for the last birthday she ever had, hung awkwardly on her because of how thin she was. Her skin was tight against her skull, with her eyes bulging slightly from the sockets. "Emma!"

"Monica…" The hug was cold. There was no warmth to it, to her, and bony fingers dug into my shoulders like she couldn't feel that she was holding me. And though I smelled perfume on her, the always familiar susinum, I smelled death. I smelled rot. No amount of perfume covered those smells up. "Monica…"

"Emma!" She pulled away and smiled. Normally she giggled after a hug. But there was no giggle here. "Emma!" There was no conversation. It was just my name. 'Emma' and 'Darling', her favorite term of endearment for Orson. "Emma!" There was no change to her expression. Just a smile, always a smile. Ignoring how injured and tired I was. "Emma!"

"I…" I stepped back and, feeling the urge to be horrifically ill, I raised my lance. "I… I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I…"

"Emma!" No reaction still from her, even as I aimed my lance at her throat. Just a smile still. Just a mockery of a smile, and the warm way she always said my name. "Emma!"

"I… I love you, Monica." I thrust the lance forward, with all my strength.

Just before it connected, I heard her say, "I love you too, Emma. Thank you." And then the lance broke her neck, sliced her head half-off, and the body crumpled like a broken doll. A doll with coagulated blood, deep crimson and as thick as syrup, dribbling out of the hole in her neck and slowly pooling under her and matting up her hair.

I collapsed again, almost falling over from how nerveless I felt. My lance clanged to the floor and rolled under the bed. Part of me screamed I needed to retrieve it. I was technically in enemy territory still. But my hands reached for the body, desperately hunting for something that would prove it was just some very well made doll, and not… not…

But I couldn't find anything like that. The freckles across her nose and cheeks were there. The mole on her neck was there. The calluses on her hands, from sewing and weaving, were there. The scar on her arm, from breaking her arm when she was little, was there. The tan line on her finger, left by her wedding ring that became too big to wear as she lost more and more weight…

I wasn't sure when I started screaming. I wasn't really aware I was until I noticed my throat was burning. But I screamed. I screamed and screamed until I was sure I was going to spit up blood. I screamed until someone snagged me by the shoulder and pulled me into a hug. The smell of blood, sweat, and dirt assaulted me and I almost jerked back, but then I heard a quiet murmur and a comforting hand stroked my back. 'Emma.' 'Hey, can you hear me?' 'It will be okay.' I thought that was what I heard, but I wasn't quite sure. It was enough to ground me. It was enough to let me look up to see it was Ephraim who held me.

"Emma," he breathed, smiling at me. Blood trickled down the side of his face. "Hey. Can you hear me?"

"I… yes?" I rasped. My throat throbbed in protest. "I…" I glanced to the side, and saw Seth was also here in the doorway. He didn't say anything, but the horror on his face made it clear he was looking at Monica, and that he realized the resemblance was too uncanny for it to not be… "I'm sorry."

"For what? Don't worry about it."

"I swear… I swear I didn't go looking for him or for her or…" My throat hurt with each word, but I wouldn't stop rambling. Couldn't stop rambling. "I just wanted to go back outside. In and out, deliver and message and get out. I swear; I was heading back out. But I kept running into patrols and… and…" I continued babbling, but even I couldn't make sense of it. But it didn't matter, because Ephraim continued holding me. He tucked me against his chest and held me as I began sobbing. This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.

"Ephraim, I hate to say this, but you're needed." At some point, I heard a new voice. Joshua's. I continued crying, clinging to Ephraim, but I heard him. "And you've been needed."

"Can it not…?" Ephraim began. He sounded aggravated, annoyed, but he sighed. "No, I know. Damn it."

"Yeah, this is where being a king sucks." Joshua sounded annoyed too, but it didn't sound like it was at Ephraim. Just at the situation. Whatever it was. It took me so long to think. "I'll take petal."

"I… Right…" He sighed again, still holding me. Slowly, I began piecing things together. He had a job, but he also didn't want to leave me, especially like this. "Right, but…"

"I know. Trust me; I know."

"Y-you have your duty, right?" I managed, finally getting my head together. I was crying and could barely breathe, but I knew just what was going on. And I knew what I wanted him to do. "Go be the king, Ephraim." I lifted my head, and gave him the best stern look I could. Which wasn't very much, considering how teary and snotty I was. But I hoped it conveyed what I wanted. "If you don't, I… I'll scold you severely when my throat stops hurting."

"Emma…" Ephraim breathed, staring at me. After a moment, he smiled, both pained and grateful. "I love you." He kissed my cheeks, taking some of the tears away. "Very, very much."

"I know you do. But you've been working hard to regain their trust. I want you to keep doing that."

"I will. Promise. You go rest." And he left then. It was abrupt and quick, a little too quick for my liking, but I knew why. He had to leave quickly, or he'd delay and delay. We both knew that wasn't what he needed to do. So, I could deal. This was part of loving him, and I didn't mind it so much. I'd just demand extra cuddles when I next saw him.

Besides, I wasn't left hug-less for long. Joshua picked me up easily and cradled me against him. "I don't want you walking with those wounded legs, petal," he explained, carrying me out of the room and down the hall. I didn't say anything, just curled into him. "Sadly, I've got my own duties, damn it, but I'll get you to a safer place before then."

"Do you job, brother," I whispered. I closed my eyes and just focused on breathing. "You promised your mom."

"I did. And I'm sure you'd give me a right scolding too."

"Yep." I curled a little more into him, wishing I could smell the frankincense I knew he wore, even with the battle. Sadly, crying stuffed up my nose. "I love you, brother."

"Love you too, petal. It'll be okay."

We didn't say anything after that, mostly because Joshua had to carefully navigate down the stairs and past the blood and the battles still going on, while carrying me. I wondered just where the 'safer place' was, but the sudden spike in crying and muffles screams and pain, and the sharp smell of antiseptic and incense, told me where he was taking me. The infirmary, the most guarded area on the entire battlefield, and the place that had people trained to deal with people breaking down.

"Joshua? Emma?!" Natasha's worried voice floated over me. I cracked my eyes open briefly, before closing them again. "What happened?" she asked, brushing the hair out of my face. Her hands were cold and a little damp. "She's supposed to be outside."

"I'll give you the full story, as I know it, in a moment, Natasha, but the short version is that it's not her physical, but mental state I'm worried about," Joshua replied. He kissed the top of my head, and whispered something I didn't hear. "Figured the infirmary would be a good place in case she had another breakdown."

"Of course. Come here in the back. It'll give L'arachel something to do. She had to pull triple duty on the rest while Moulder and I… oh, I'll explain later. She's resting, and hating it. Taking care of Emma will solve that easily."

Joshua and Natasha got me set up in the back with L'arachel, and left after giving me the warmest hugs. L'arachel, for her part, was glad to have something to do, even as she peered at me worriedly and made me sit on the floor next to her. "Oh, goodness, Emma…" she breathed, tugging my legs into her lap. She pulled a medical kit from out of nowhere, by my view, and immediately went to work tending to them. "What happened? You look as if you've stared into the darkest abyss of hell."

"Maybe I did," I half-joked. My voice cracked though, and I just felt worse for saying the words. "Hey, L'arachel?"

"Yes?"

"I saw my sister. My dead sister. It could've been a doll, but I think it was her." I began shaking as it all caught up. Killing Orson… Monica… "B-but, the dead coming back… that only…"

"Easy, Emma." L'arachel's voice was gentle yet firm. She quickly bandaged both of my legs and then shifted to hold me in her arms, rubbing my back. "I'm not quite sure what's going on, but let someone else take a look before we declare anything. And if it is what you suspect… think of the implications later. We will handle it together, later."

"I…" I started crying again. "I…"

"Later, Emma. Just cry for now. No matter what, it was no doubt a terrifying event. That much, at least, I can figure. Just cry, Emma. You can think later."

I cried for a long while, probably for much longer than L'arachel really had for a break. But she held me as I continued to sob, whispering comforting words, and even a couple of prayers. Part of me wanted to snap about the prayers, but I bit my tongue in time. It was a gesture of comfort and reassurance from her. The prayers meant that I was important enough to her that she wanted to beseech the gods she loved and worshiped in the hopes that they would help me.

I wasn't quite so sure, but hey, what did I know? I was certain Monica couldn't have ever come back, but I was wrong. I was wrong.

"You really do have pretty hair, Emma," Eirika noted as she brushed it. It was long after the battle, to the point that night had fallen, and I was curled up under the blankets at the townhouse, with Eirika fussing over me. "I can see why Ephraim loves the excuse to touch it."

"He's also very good at braiding," I pointed out. My voice was a dull and tired, but Eirika didn't comment on it. "I'm sorry."

"For what? He is very good at braiding." Her smile told me she knew the real reason I was apologizing. The town was filled with celebrations, people cheering over Orson's death, and yet she was here with me in the townhouse. "I'm too tired to party anyway. Ephraim's only out because they expect it."

"I know." Ephraim had actually been the one who escorted me to the townhouse from the infirmary long after the battle, and he'd planned on staying. However, the people wanted his reassurance, and so, he went to do his duty. He knew I'd scold him if he didn't. I did make sure to extract a promise to hug and cuddle later, though. "I wonder if anyone else is hiding."

"Well, the healers are."

"Yeah." I sighed. "Yeah." The conversation died, as it had the last few times Eirika and I tried to talk. We were both just tired. Her from the battle itself and me… and me from what we discovered with Monica.

Natasha, using her knowledge of autopsies and the like, had actually looked over Monica's body, and came away with some disturbing knowledge. The body had shown signs of being dead for quite some time, but had apparently also shown signs of recent healing, at an accelerated rate compared to normal, and either a slowing or reversal of rot. She had also cut into the chest to confirm the presence of very large tumors, which had killed Monica. That had been enough to confirm it to me, but Seth had actually gone above and beyond to be absolutely certain. He'd taken Kyle, Forde, Garcia, and Cormag all out to the graveyard to dig up Monica's grave, finding an empty coffin. That had been the final bit of proof for everyone. It had really been her body. It had really been her.

It made me sick. It made me want to scream. Why would someone do this? How did someone do this? The questions bounced through my skull without answers.

"How are you doing?" I asked Eirika. I honestly couldn't remember if I had asked that before or not. "This was a heavy battle for a lot of us."

"It was," Eirika agreed. She continued brushing my hair, slowly and carefully. "Honestly, so heavy that I don't really know what to do with the weight. It doesn't feel quite real to me, yet. None of it."

"When it does feel real, don't be afraid to come find me, okay?"

"I won't. Honestly, I'm tempted to just curl under the blankets too. But I do want to finish brushing your hair."

"Sure, that's fine." There was something soothing about it anyway. "Oh, right, Eirika, did you guys ever find your da-"

A knock on the door startled us both, and I sat up quickly as the door opened to reveal Saleh, carrying a mug. "My apologies, Princess Eirika," he murmured, bowing slightly. "But you're needed in the main square."

"I am?" Eirika asked, startled. She frowned heavily, and her eyes darted to me briefly before focusing on him. "I thought I was done for the day."

"Sadly, it's an emergency."

"I see…" Again, Eirika's eyes darted to me. "I…"

"I'll stay with her." Saleh smiled slightly. "I dislike all this fuss anyway. I'm certain you wish to avoid it as well, but…"

"Duty calls. Always." She sighed gustily, and hugged me. "I'm sorry about this."

"Nope, don't be sorry about doing your job," I reassured her. I even managed to make my voice light and teasing. "If I'm going to force Ephraim to do it, I'll force you too."

"I adore you," Eirika replied. Her smile told me she appreciated that I wasn't making a fuss, though there was a bit of exasperation to it, like she wished I would. But it wouldn't be fair. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Gods know I really don't want to party."

"You can make it." I nudged her to the door. "Can't be worse than going through the desert, right?"

"Ugh…" She shuddered and I managed a little laugh. "Okay. Thanks for watching her, Saleh." She left then, her footsteps light as she disappeared down the hall and down the stairs.

"It's sad that people are fighting during a party like this," Saleh murmured. He shut the door behind him and sat down next to me. "Others tried to calm them, but they demanded the royals, and…"

"There's no need to explain," I told him with a small smile. "The only thing I really don't want right now is to be alone, but clearly, I'm under some sort of order to not be left alone anyway, yes?"

"Same as Joshua." He passed me the mug, helping me make sure I had a good grip on it. "Here. I thought this might help."

"Really?" Shrugging, I sipped it, expecting some sort of tea or medicine. Instead, I discovered it was milk with some spices mixed in. "Cinnamon?"

"Nutmeg as well. It's a traditional drink in Caer Pelyn. It can help calm you, but the main purpose is comfort." Saleh smiled again. "I thought it would be more comforting than tea."

"Thank you." I had to smile back. It really was sweet of him, and he was right. This was more soothing than any tea. "I appreciate it. You were on your way to deliver this, weren't you?"

"I was. So, I volunteered to deliver the message."

"I see." I took another sip, and I realized something. Saleh was a scholar. If there was anyone who might have answers… "Saleh, what stories do you know about bringing back the dead?"

"You…" He studied me a moment, before smiling slightly, shaking his head. "Are you sure you should be thinking of such things right now?"

"Monica used to scold Orson and me for always working. But I felt it was better. If you get your work done, you can rest without guilt or watching the clock."

"There is no clock to watch right now, and there is no guilt to feel. Not in this."

"Perhaps, but…" I trailed off, struggling to explain. "When Monica died, I was very… apathetic. There wasn't anything to think about or work on, really. Except, you know, moving on with my life, but…"

"Ah, you fear falling into that apathy again, since you have made progress in healing." Saleh nodded, understanding perfectly. Part of me was actually a little annoyed at how easily he understood, the part of me that didn't like being so easily read. But I remembered what I overheard, about how Saleh had accidentally killed someone in the past. He had suffered his own trauma. He knew how hard it was to heal. "I imagine having so many questions makes it difficult to sleep as well."

"Pretty much. So?"

"Very well. Stories of necromancy?"

"Yeah. I only really know of the tales of the Demon King."

"There are many tales of those who tried, and failed. Fomortiis is the only one known to have ever succeeded, but even then, those he brought back were bound to him. I imagine someone of powerful dark magic might be able to mimic it, but…" He shook his head. "I do not have much knowledge of dark magic, unfortunately. I know light, anima, and healing, but I purposely chose against learning, despite Dara knowing a great deal."

"Really? Why?"

"Dark magic is a magic of knowledge. Of constant learning, and pushing into the unknown. I decided that it was safer for me to not pursue it, lest I become lost in the dark."

"Can that happen?"

"You hear tales of those who devoted themselves so much to the study that they became consumed by it, losing pieces of their memories and spirits."

"That sounds…" I struggled to think of a word, but I couldn't find one, even after sipping a bit more of the spiced milk. "Dark, I guess." I set the mug to the side, thinking. "Myrrh talked about darkness, yes? I feel like I heard that somewhere."

"Yes, to the south. Grado." Saleh's expression grew grim. "I had thought it was simply the seals and wards weakening, but perhaps that wasn't the case. Perhaps, somehow, the Demon King has awakened, just a little."

"And, what, is controlling Emperor Vigarde?" That would be convenient. That would be very convenient. "Oh, but Emperor Vigarde wasn't known for dark magic." Lyon was, though. I wondered if he was involved, before dismissing it. He'd felt like a ghost, and I'd been uneasy, but none of that meant Demon King directly.

"One doesn't have to have dark magic to be taken by Fomortiis. Still, it's hard to say if Fomortiis is actively instigating this, or if it is simply taking advantage of things. I would assume the latter, at least for now. His body, after all, is in the Darkling Woods."

"Right…" I felt myself droop as I tried to think about it. "My sister… she only said two things. 'Darling' and 'Emma'. She only smiled. Even when she hugged me, she didn't really… it was just a gesture. She couldn't feel me, and she was cold." My voice shook as I remembered. "But right before I killed-"

"Saved." Saleh's interruption was quick and firm, and his eyes were incredibly sincere. "You saved her. Trapped in a body like that… that is a fate worse than death in my eyes."

"That…" I sighed. Why was it so hard to believe? I truly felt like I'd killed her again. I felt like I failed her. "Well, right before whatever… that was the only time she said something different. 'I love you too' and 'thank you'."

"See? She was trapped until you saved her." Saleh nodded, looking contemplative. "She must've fought against the bindings to tell you that. Until then, she was simply a slave. A half-living puppet."

"That just sounds wrong." I grimaced. "But, if that worked on Monica, what about someone who died more recently. Like General Glen or…" I gasped as a horrible thought occurred to me. "Oh, shit, King Fado…!"

"His body was found. He had been buried in his own grave, away from the other mass graves we found."

"Oh, thank the gods." My relief was short-lived though as I remembered a conversation I had overheard long ago, back when we were first in Frelia. Back before we left to chase after Ephraim at Renvall. "Um… who saw the body?"

"Seth was the one who identified him, and the body was mostly covered before Prince Ephraim and Princess Eirika were allowed to see. Rot had set in, of course, so he was hard to recognize. But he will be properly buried, along with all the others we found."

"I see." I wonder if the corpse showed the signs of torture I had overheard Syrene tell Seth. I wondered if Ephraim or Eirika had been told. "I'm glad he was found. I'm glad all the dead were found.

"Yes. I believe Seth is going to check through the graveyard to see if any others show signs of disturbance. Just in case."

"The bastards better have left the rest of my family alone, damn it." I sighed and groaned, facepalming. "I hope Monica was the only one. I doubt it, but I hope."

"I hope as well." He nodded to the mug I still held. "You should finish that, though."

"Oh, right!"

I slowly finished off the spiced milk, and our conversation took a lighter turn, mostly some pranks Ewan pulled, or some of Saleh's observations of the group. He also managed to cajole a few stories about Monica out of me, and as I told them, I realized something odd. Monica had been wearing susinum perfume. But Monica had very rarely worn susinum. It was expensive, and a precious reminder of Mom. She only wore it for special occasions. So, after finishing one story, I absently asked Saleh for the date and, as soon as I heard, I… I broke down. Because it was Monica's birthday. It was her birthday. I killed her husband and killed-saved-whatever her… on her birthday.

So, I broke down in a mess of laughter and tears, but managed to choke out why so that Saleh didn't think I'd just randomly gone completely mad. He simply let me have my fit, before helping me wash my face and, at my begging, helped me through Valega to settle my spirit enough to fall asleep. I woke up a few times, but Saleh sat by me, casually reading and checking on me.

I'd have to cook him something to thank him. I had no other real way to express how grateful I was.

Notes on Necromancy:

One of the darkest magics, involving the reanimation of corpses. Though there are many stories about people trying to bring back the dead, according to historical records, only the Demon King has ever 'succeeded' in it.

Typically used to explain some of the monsters (revenants, entombed, bonewalkers, and wights), this sort of necromancy is 'basic', resulting in unthinking and un-speaking creatures. However, based on Monica and a couple of old stories, the Demon King was said to be able to 'truly' bring back a person, complete with their spirit and the ability to properly communicate.

The problem becomes, of course, that this was supposed to be a power of only the Demon King. So, what does it mean, that it was used now? Nothing good, clearly.

Author's note: Soooo, have a dead Orson and a mildly traumatized Emma. It being Monica's birthday is something directly from the game. In game, you get Myrrh as a playable char here, but there's still Ephraim's route, so she doesn't have her dragonstone yet. And is in Frelia still. Because we haven't gone through Ephraim's route yet, this is also the first encounter the characters have had with the not-monster-zombies.

This map gives different weapons to Orson based on which route you're doing, and your starting position changes slightly depending on right (Ephraim is more SW, while Eirika is more SE). Fairly certain there's no ballistae on the map, but I added that in. Seth, Forde, Kyle, and Eirika/Ephraim (depends on the route) all have boss conversations with Orson. Seth's and Forde's are both used here, though Forde's isn't actually said to Orson in this context.

A couple of Lute's lines are based off of her Heroes dialogue. Genarog warning Tana of a threat without Cormag telling him comes from the Cormag-Tana B support. Dara being a dark magic user comes from the fact that her in-game data had her listed as a druid. Dark magic being a magic of 'knowledge' comes from Knoll's supports with Natasha. The mention of losing pieces of yourself to dark magic is a nod to the Elibe games, where that actually served a bit of a plot point.

Next Chapter – Interlude, Ivroria