Chapter 16: Waning Moon.
"Do you mind if I lie down?" Edelgard whispered through Byleth's embrace.
Byleth nodded as he eased Edelgard down, both of them sitting on the warm earth before he fell back, his arms around her waist ensuring that Edelgard went down with him.
"The night sky is beautiful isn't it?" Byleth asked, his eyes following the lone cloud floating in the otherwise clear sky.
Edelgard murmured a weak response, but snuggled deeply into Byleth, who crossed his legs under him.
"Are my legs good pillows?" Byleth teased.
Edelgard murmured in confirmation.
"Are you sleepy?" Byleth asked.
"No." Edelgard said, her eyes meeting his, though he could hear the exhaustion in her voice.
"It's alright to tell me the truth." Byleth teased as he gently played with a strand of Edelgard's hair.
An annoyed noise escaped Edelgard, her lips making a halfhearted attempt to protest. "I'm telling the truth!"
"Is there anything I can do to make my legs more comfortable?" Byleth asked.
Edelgard flinched. "No! Your legs are fine."
Byleth chuckled at the sudden outburst. "I'm aware of that, my lovely little artist."
Edelgard's eyes flickered up at him. "You know don't you?"
"Do I look as good in paint as I do in life?"
Edelgard flushed deeply. "I-"
Byleth gently put a finger against the warmth of Edelgard's neck, feeling her agitated pulse against his finger.
"I-I'm going to sleep now!" Edelgard blurted out, obviously no longer asleep, practically running her head into Byleth's stomach in the process.
Byleth let out a slight grunt before he wrapped his arms around her waist in retaliation.
"El, should we get back?"
"Eh?" Edelgard asked.
"I'll carry you of course, make sure your poor ankles aren't in pain tomorrow."
"That-" Edelgard protested. "I should never have mentioned that."
Byleth chuckled as he brought his hand against the back of Edelgard's knees and lifted her from the ground.
Edelgard yelped. "Wait!"
Byleth stopped.
"Can I pretend to be asleep?" Edelgard asked weakly. "I don't want to be seen like this."
Byleth chuckled. "Alright then El. Whatever you want."
The doors to the town hall groaned as Spite stepped foot into the silent foyer, his eyes slowly finding his bearings as he stepped into the darkened hall.
He paused for a moment before he turned and shut the doors behind him.
Spite turned slowly before he summoned an orb of fire to bear, the flames pushing away the dark of the night and illuminating the pale walls of the foyer.
The hall was different from when he had last seen it. No longer were gifts of fruit to the false gods ever present, nor were the torches that usually kept the hall bright during nights lit.
He walked slowly, his eyes scanning the various cabinets and tables along the hall for signs of life, but the empty hall simply sat silent.
When Spite reached the stairs that lead to the second floor of the hall, he frowned, grimacing at the state of the staircase.
"I wonder what the old man is doing." Spite muttered to himself, his mind drifting to the ancient woodworker who had spent many hours polishing the staircase over previous visits to the hall.
When he looked up again, he only had a moment to notice the figure at the top of the staircase.
And the vase held overhead.
"So, what was it that you found?" Ashe asked the soldier who had ridden back.
The man coughed weakly before he glanced around, clearly uncomfortable with so many eyes on him.
"Douglas." Ashe said calmly.
"On it." The old bandit said, shooing away the other archers who seemed to have nothing to do.
Ashe turned back to the man.
"We found some of them." The man said.
"In a camp?" Ashe asked.
"In pieces." His subordinate explained. "Looks like someone- no, something got to them."
Ashe nodded grimly. "I suspect I may have an idea what."
"I thought the beast you had mentioned was a mirage of the heat." The man managed slowly. "But now I'm glad I didn't have to see it."
"How long had they been dead?" Ashe asked.
The man shook his head. "Good long while. The place had all sorts of buzzards and scavengers nearby."
Ashe nodded. "Regardless, I'm ordering that we pull out."
The man nodded. "Sooner we can get to camp, the better."
Ashe nodded. "When day breaks, I'll have Sylvain and Ingrid returned to the main camp."
The man nodded before he paused. "We found something else."
"What?" Ashe asked.
"One of the men had been torn in half, but we managed to find an intact insignia on his armour."
Ashe nodded. "Do you have it?"
"One of the others made a sketch." The man replied.
"Have they returned?" Ashe asked.
The man glanced in the direction of the road where the slaughter had occurred. "I can't be sure. They said they would pack up and go but-"
"You're worried of the beast." Ashe finished.
The man nodded.
Ashe nodded as he rose to his feet. "Douglas!"
The former bandit nodded. "What is it that you need?"
"You are in command until I return." Ashe said. "When day breaks, ensure Sylvain and Ingrid return to camp. It will be too dangerous to transport two unconscious people in the dark."
"And where are you going?" Douglas asked.
"I'm going to check on the others. Make sure they know that we're headed back to camp once their investigation wraps up."
Douglas nodded. "Alright then. Are you leaving now?"
Ashe nodded as he picked up his bow. "See you back in the camp."
"Ride safely." Douglas said seriously.
Ashe nodded. "If the other two wake up early, explain to them where I've gone."
Douglas nodded. "Still, you know why I'm generally uncomfortable around him."
Ashe nodded. "Still, there's little choice in the matter. If all is well, I'll join you again before either of them wake."
Douglas nodded before he saluted Ashe.
Ashe managed a brief nod before he hurried away.
Hubert inched quietly past Dorothea's door, Bernadetta behind him.
To their credit, Dorothea did not storm out of her room to stop them from interfering with Lady Edelgard's date.
She simply sat at the foot of the stairs, a ghostly grin spreading across her face when she saw Hubert.
"Hi Hubie. Hi Bernie." Dorothea said as she looked up. "Going somewhere?"
"You will not stop us." Hubert said coldly.
"Of course not!" Dorothea said with a nod to the dining room. "We will stop you. Isn't that right Monica?"
The crimson head of Monica von Ochs popped briefly out of the dining area, the red haired girl seemingly stunned for a moment as she realized it was Hubert that was staring back at her.
"Like I was saying Hubie, it's not just me stopping you."
Hubert frowned. "Will you move if I promise to not chase Lady Edelgard?"
"Of course! I'll even go with you to prove it!"
Hubert blinked. "Pardon?"
"I'll go with you to make sure you don't interrupt their date. If you do interrupt their date- well, sorry Bernie."
Bernadetta blinked. "Did I do something wrong?"
Hubert gritted his teeth. "Very well then, Dorothea. You may… accompany us."
"Monica!" Dorothea called.
"Yes?" Monica von Ochs asked, cheerfully hurrying over to the other three.
"We are about to get going." Dorothea said with a slight grin.
"Why do you wish to bring her along? The fewer people come, the less the chance we are spotted." Hubert reasoned.
"Hubie." Dorothea replied with a smile. "I don't trust you to not hit me over the head when my back is turned."
Hubert looked mildly offended. "I would never use such methods!"
"You would hit me on the head even without my head being turned." Dorothea guessed.
Hubert looked even more offended. "I would not sloop to using physical violence when there are quicker, cleaner ways to achieve the same result."
Dorothea turned to Monica with an eyeroll. "Right. Hubie is why I need you to come along with me."
Monica looked at Hubert before she nodded nervously. "Do I have a choice in this?"
Dorothea chuckled. "Of course you don't sweetie. Of course you don't."
Bernadetta patted Monica on the shoulder before the two of them were dragged out of the tavern by their respective partners.
"So what was it about you and Spite earlier?" Yurius asked Mortis as he slipped into the darkness of the night.
"Couldn't sleep either?" Mortis asked as she turned to greet her partner.
"No. I suppose not." Yurius replied.
"Did my confession keep you up?" Mortis asked.
"I suppose I played my hand too early with the opener." Yurius said.
Mortis nodded. "You did. Not a good way to start a conversation."
Yurius sighed before he turned away. "Why did Aranea want Spite dead?"
Mortis paused at the question, as if surprised by how blunt it was.
"None of us knew at the time, but it was over the Penemue papers." She admitted at last.
"The papers Aranea wrote?"
"Spite wrote them actually. Aranea took credit for it."
"Why?" Yurius asked.
"I don't know. It's not a topic I really asked anyone about in depth."
"What do you know about the incident then?"
"They got into a fight over it. I think Aranea felt threatened that she would be exposed by Spite."
"So where did you come in?" Yurius asked. "Because last time I checked, killing a member of the ruling council is high treason."
"She said that she wanted him out of the way. Made him seem like he was weak and undeserving of his position."
"Was he?" Yurius asked.
"Did you watch the fight?" Mortis asked.
"No. I was busy hunting boar in the mountains. Didn't get back until two days later."
"The other five got a glancing hit in each. Then he slaughtered them."
Yurius swallowed. "Weren't you supposed to be there?"
"I was late." Mortis explained. "They locked the doors to make sure he didn't escape."
"So you couldn't get in then." Yurius said.
"We broke down the door before the massacre was over." Mortis explained.
"Really?" Yurius asked.
"Spite had killed three of them by then, and broke the necks of the last two before anyone could get to him."
"Why?"
"He didn't want it traced to Aranea. He didn't want her to spend her final moments at the end of a noose."
"He tell you that?" Yurius asked.
"I've learned enough about him by being close to him." Mortis replied. "He really cared for his sisters, no matter what shit they stirred up."
"Is that why we were sent on, well, you know?" Yurius asked, frowning.
"Kronya was a loose cannon. You knew it, I knew it, Spite knew it, everyone did."
A drunken laugh spilled out from behind them, and both Mortis and Yurius spun around.
"I smashed that little snake-" The drunken form of Leonie babbled. "Right there on the noggin."
Mortis exchanged a glance with Yurius as she took a step back.
"Wish I killed her." Leonie continued, her face flushed. "But that Colon guy got there first."
Mortis frowned. "Leonie, you are drunk. Go to sleep."
"Ya want to know the truth?" Leonie half laughed, half slurred. "I watched him rip her hear out."
"Heart?" Yurius asked, disgust in his voice.
"Tha Forbiden Dimension of Zahra!" Leonie babbled as she clenched her fist weakly, pulling her arm back in the process.
Yurius winced as the momentum of the action carried Leonie backwards, and the orange haired woman sprawled to the mud in an undignified position.
"Mortis. You alright?" Yurius asked.
Mortis blinked. "How the hell does she know what the Forbidden Dimension of Zahras is?"
Yurius blinked. "I'm not sure I follow."
"It's a secondary dimension some long dead overlord had forged before the fall." Mortis said quietly.
"Spite mentioned that he used it from time to time." Yurius offered.
"I went through it once." Mortis admitted after a moment. "Of course, I was with Spite at the time."
"Why didn't he let the rest of us use it then?" Yurius asked as he prodded the unconscious form of Leonie with his toe. "Sounds like a great way to move undetected."
"The entire damn thing was cursed. It's infested with ghosts."
Yurius took a small step back from Leonie and looked at his partner strangely. "I didn't hear that correctly. Did you just say ghosts?"
"The entire dimension was filled with ghosts." Mortis explained.
"Where did the ghosts come from?" Yurius asked.
"When Old Agartha burned, a portion of the population managed to escape to the Forbidden Dimension." Mortis explained.
"I don't get it." Yurius replied. "How does that lead to ghosts?"
"Because when they got into Zahras, they lost the means to get out of Zahras. By the time anyone in Shambhala cared to investigate, they only found bones."
Yurius swallowed. "Are you certain of that?"
"I'm glad that I'm not certain of that fact." Mortis replied. "The guy who allegedly found the remains of the victims turned himself into that damn statue that Spite showed you."
Yurius blinked. "And how did you know of this anyways?"
"Spite." Mortis muttered in response as she glanced over the crumpled form of Leonie.
"And why did he know?"
"You guys alright out there?" Ignatz called.
Yurius responded first. "Leonie has passed out. Do you mind helping us carry her back into a room?"
Ignatz grimaced at the sight of the unconscious woman, but nodded regardless.
"We can talk later." Yurius said as Mortis turned away.
"Aren't you going to help her?" Ignatz asked.
"If we switched positions, would she help me?" Mortis asked with a scoff.
Ignatz and Yurius both gave the woman a stern look, one that she replied in kind.
"Fine then, I suppose she wouldn't help you either."
"If you want, I'll hold the door for you, but nothing more." Mortis offered.
The two men exchanged a glance before Yurius nodded. "Alright. Door it is then."
"You know that's a bad idea." Spite offered with a slow, grim smile.
The figure at the top of the staircase took a small step back, the vase lowered.
"You've lost your advantage." Spite continued. "You should have thrown it when I wasn't aware of your presence."
The figure took a step back. "Who are you?"
Spite blinked. The voice was most certainly female.
"I asked you once." The woman said. "Who are you?"
Spite replied by lighting an orb of flame in his hand, the fire illuminating the pale face of the woman.
The woman seemed surprised by the use of magic, and stumbled back, flinching when she found the wall behind her, the vase hastily dropped onto the ground.
"I am the acting commander of a regiment of soldiers in this region." Spite offered. "If you don't mind me asking, are there any other guests in this hall?"
"There's two drunks in the basement." The woman said. "I thought you were one of them."
"Drunks?" Spite asked.
"Two nobodies. One of them groped me earlier."
Spite frowned. "Are you alright?"
"No."
"I'm in service with the empire." Spite explained. "I'm here to hunt down two deserters from my unit."
The woman frowned. "If it's the two bastards in the basement, then I suppose it'll help me sleep better."
Spite nodded. "Which room are they keeping them in?"
"Third on the left."
"Basement floor?" Spite asked.
"Down the servant stairs, yes."
Spite nodded as he turned back down. "If it's the two of them I'm looking for, I'll let you know."
The woman nodded. "What unit are you from?"
"A border patrol unit." Spite replied. "We watch the border for intrusions and bandits."
"The war is over."
"There are still smugglers who need to be stopped. Plus, this is a fairly troubled region. There's been a force stationed here ever since the Ordelia incident."
The woman nodded before she turned away. "Are you familiar with the basement of the building?"
"Fairly. I came to the town frequently before the war broke out."
The woman nodded weakly before she glanced at the staircase again. "I'll go down with you in any case."
"Are you sure?" Spite asked. "I would assume that you would be happy if they never saw you again."
"I am." The woman replied. "May I ask what you intend to do with them?"
"Desertion is a crime with only a single acceptable punishment." Spite informed the woman.
The woman nodded at that with a grimace. "You are based in the mountains to the south?"
Spite nodded as he began to walk down the stairs, an orb of fire lighting the way for his companion.
"Does it rain frequently?" The woman asked. "Soldiers that I know hate rain and how it ruins their tents and clothes."
"We are based in a cave system within the mountain. Rain is rarely a concern." Spite explained.
The woman nodded but paused even as she continued her walk down the steps.
"Third room to the left then?" Spite asked as he peered into the darkness of the basement, his flames weak and flickering before he forced more of his magic into the fire, the flames roaring to life ever stronger.
The woman next to him made a noise of confirmation.
"Why are you helping them anyhow?" Spite asked, a thin smile on his face as he turned away from the stairs.
The woman blinked. "Pardon?"
"The third room to the left isn't the drunk tank. It's the servant baths."
The woman staggered back as Spite turned his eyes toward her.
"Let me guess, your little plan was to shove me into a bath the moment my back was turned, and then have your friends flee to a place where I cannot hunt them."
"Why would I lie about being groped?"
"They know better than to step out of line. The last man who groped a woman took many hours to die at my hand."
The woman grimaced as she took a step back, her deception revealed. "The war is over. Surely there's no reason for you to go after two kitchen staff."
"Well." Spite said quietly. "I suppose we can both speak candidly then?"
The woman made a nervous glance around the room as she staggered back. "Very well then, are you willing to let these two walk away from here?"
"Yes. If they cooperate, we'll march them back rather than drag them back. It will save my men a great deal of effort."
The woman took a step back. "You can't be serious."
"Just watch me." Spite said firmly.
"We will not go quietly." A voice spoke up.
"Took you two worms long enough." Spite muttered as he turned to the man who had spoken. "Pardon me if I don't believe your claim."
"You killed that boy." The man said with anger in his voice. "We would have told Thales."
"Very funny. And why would I have killed Ryan?"
"You kill anyone who gets close to Mortis. She has you wrapped around her finger."
Spite blinked as he looked at the man who had spoken. "You honestly believe that garbage?"
"You killed Wilhelm. You just admitted it yourself."
"That useless shit had it coming." Spite replied. "Clearly none of you ever heard the full story."
The men glanced at each other.
"I don't understand." One said at last.
"Yes, I dragged out the death of Wilhelm." Spite said. "And I was cheered as I drew his mutilated carcass through the halls of Shambhala."
The men looked at him with stunned faces.
"And do you know why people were unhappy with my actions?" Spite asked.
The man on the left took a step back as Spite took a step forward.
"Because they didn't have the chance to kill the bastard themselves."
The man on the right grimaced. "But you had no right to act as his executioner!"
"I agree I was not his executioner, well, not officially anyways."
Spite paused as he studied the looks on the faces of the two men.
"But I am yours."
The man on the left gave a great cry as he rushed forward, fists raised as if to fight.
Spite waited for a moment before he opened his coat, pulling his dagger from its folds.
The man came ever closer as Spite readied his blade.
Then the man threw a vicious right hook into the face of Spite.
But yet the blow did not come, for the slender frame of the man was not where it had been a split second prior, the mage having deftly dodged the attack.
But the punch, a result of a charging giant, continued, and the man seemed to realize too late that the woman next to Spite did not have the reflexes of a veteran magi.
The punch struck home even as the woman seemed to realize what had happened and where the punch was going to fall, the blow dropping the woman to the ground as the man seemed to stare in horror at what he had wrought.
Then Spite slammed his Athame into the man's stomach.
The man seemed surprised as Spite dragged the blade up and out, the sharp tip of the dagger opening flesh and blood.
As the man slowly crumpled to the floor, his hands feebly trying to stop the blood leaking from his body, Spite turned to the other man, an orb of fire turning up in his hand.
"I can offer you a way out of this." Spite said calmly.
The man laughed, a bitter, cold noise. "What? Through the end of a noose?"
"That is the secondary option, but it's not unheard of to leave a single member of a particular group untouched."
"You already have her don't you?" The man asked nervously.
"She is only guilty of botching a food order. And for that, she will be untouched." Spite said. "You lot on the other hand, are guilty of desertion."
"Why should I accept your deal then?" The man asked.
"Because the mountains are difficult to traverse even in broad daylight, much less in the dark on no sleep." Spite replied. "If you are willing to help drag your friend out with you, I will see to it that you are unharmed when judgement falls on the other four."
The man scoffed. "The other three are dead."
"Two." Spite corrected. "This piece of lard will bleed out within the hour, and I've already dispatched your friend who has had an accident."
The man on the floor moaned.
"Offer isn't valid to you." Spite snapped. "You are the only one of this group who has attempted to assault a superior officer."
"What will you do to me?" The still standing man asked as Spite kicked the man on the floor.
"You'll scrub the toilets clean until I either get tired of seeing you or until someone else annoys me enough to take your place." Spite offered as he turned away from the downed man in disgust.
The man swallowed. "Doesn't seem like I have much of a choice."
"Not true." Spite replied. "You have many choices here. All but one simply will end with your death."
The small man turned to look at the form of his former comrade, looking at him with pleading eyes.
"Should you choose to accept my offer, you will carry this maggot out of the servant doors." Spite said, pointing toward a dark hallway. "There will be other soldiers on the other side. You will surrender to them."
"And what about you?" The man asked.
"I have to deal with the other mess here." Spite replied, gesturing to the crumpled form of the woman lying on the ground.
"Should I dump him by the door?" The man asked as he glanced down the hallway.
"Fine by me." Spite replied as he hauled the crumpled form of the woman over his shoulder.
Byleth groaned when the bright crimson head of Monica von Ochs was hastily dragged into an alley by a figure that was most certainly not Dorothea Arnault.
"What's wrong?" Edelgard asked.
"Hubert just dragged Monica into an alley." Byleth replied, failing to keep the amusement out of his voice.
"Ah." Edelgard muttered. "And I thought we could just have the night to ourselves."
"Such are the burdens of an emperor." Byleth replied.
Edelgard snorted. "When I left that meeting with you, I just so happened to run into Hubert hiding in the nearest closet."
Byleth chuckled. "I'm thinking we surprise them."
Edelgard's eyes flashed with interest at the proposal, and a grin spread across her face when she heard the plan.
"You know what my favourite part of all this is?" Edelgard whispered.
"The look on their faces when we dupe them?"
Edelgard chuckled. "You know, I just found a new favourite part."
"Good." Byleth said with a grin.
"Do you think they saw us?" Bernadetta asked nervously, seemingly subconsciously clinging to Monica.
"Yes!" Dorothea fumed. "And it's all Hubie's fault!"
"What did I do?" Hubert asked, his arms firmly crossed over his chest.
"You're too tall!" Dorothea snapped. "You were too obvious in the light!"
"Yes, but it was Monica who was last to get out of the way, was it not?" Hubert shot back, glaring at the crimson haired girl.
Monica von Ochs suddenly did a very accurate Bernadetta impression, her arms clinging around the purple haired girl in abject terror.
Dorothea replied by firmly planting a finger in Hubert's chest. "This is your fault! Now Edie is going to be furious for us ruining her date!"
Bernadetta yelped at her words. "Ruined date? Oh-... They'll kill Bernie!"
"No. If Lady Edelgard was asleep, then perhaps we can sneak into our quarters without waking her." Hubert said. "If we do that, we can convince the Professor to let us go."
Bernadetta and Monica both promptly shut up, though they still shared an awkward embrace until Dorothea gently broke the two of them up.
"Remember." Hubert said with seriousness on his face. "We must be very quiet."
Dorothea nodded as they approached the tavern door.
Which swung open.
"AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEE" Hubert screeched as he jumped back, a hand over his chest and a look of sheer terror on his face, his arms raised in a position that could have been interpreted in either a desperate attempt to defend himself or a very sudden surrender. .
Dorothea yelped in shock, though her reaction was considerably more graceful than Hubert, who had landed on Monica in his surprise.
Bernadetta simply fainted, her eyes rolling into her head as she stood before them, slack jawed.
Edelgard laughed, though she concealed it with a weak and unconvincing cough.
Byleth smiled as he reached out to Hubert, his grip slightly stronger than necessary when pulling the dark haired man up.
Monica hastily composed herself, dusting off her clothes before she hastily curtsied, fleeing with a face as red as her hair as she did so.
"Lovely night to have a walk, isn't it?" Byleth asked all too cheerfully.
"Yes, of course." Hubert managed, having recovered quickly.
"I'm glad to see that you are all enjoying the weather here." Edelgard offered. "Where did you go for a walk?"
Hubert and Dorothea exchanged a nervous glance before Dorothea spoke.
"We went on a group walk to the- town! Yes, that's right. The town!"
Byleth nodded with a knowing smile. "Very well then, pardon us. We'll be headed in for the night."
"Good night then Professor, Lady Edelgard." Hubert offered.
"Night Professor, Edie." Dorothea said quickly as she turned to help the stunned form of Bernadetta, still somehow upright despite having fainted.
Byleth and Edelgard barely got to their room before they collapsed into giggling fits.
It was a few moments before daybreak that Gregory Dominic was awoken by a nervous knock on his door.
"Is something amiss?" The baron asked as he glanced at the box that guarded Crusher, the ancient weapon having been secured with little difficulty.
"There has been a number of landings by Imperial forces on the beach." The servant said nervously.
"Imperial forces?" Gregory Dominic said in surprise.
"Are you leading here?" A woman asked behind the nervous face of the guard.
Gregory Dominic glanced at the dark cloak over the shoulders of the young woman and nodded. "I am."
"We bring many trees." The woman said.
A gruff voice cleared his throat from behind the woman, and a short, grim faced man nodded as he stood before them.
"Are boats empty?" The woman asked.
The man replied quickly in a foreign language that Gregory Dominic vaguely recognized as a common tongue from Brigid.
"Will you helping?" The woman asked.
It was only when he realized that his servant was looking at him that he spoke up. "Of course, what will I need to do?"
"General Bergliez?" The woman asked.
The man nodded. "The lumber is in the process of being unloaded from our ships."
"How long will it take before you are finished?" Gregory Dominic asked.
"Anywhere between one more hour and three." General Bergliez explained. "Are there any spare forces you have?"
Gregory Dominic frowned. "I was about to leave for Garreg Mach earlier."
"Garreg Mach!" The woman explained.
General Bergliez blinked. "The convoy will be considerably slower than if you were to travel alone. Lady Macneary."
"I would wish to see my friends soon."
The man paused for a second, glancing back to the unit behind them.
"I cannot allow that." Bergliez said finally. "My orders are to watch over you."
The woman shook her head as she said something in another language, and Gregory watched in bewilderment as the two of them argued.
Finally, the older man nodded, though he had a grimace on his face when he spoke.
"Baron Dominic, correct?" General Bergliez asked as he turned to Gregory.
"That is correct." Gregory replied, watching the man carefully.
"May I entrust Lady Macneary to you? The lumber convoy will take too long before it can reach Garreg Mach, and the matter with the Emperor is urgent."
Gregory Dominic nodded. "I will prepare a separate carriage in that case."
"No, I wish to go carriage with you." The woman said.
Gregory Dominic closed his eyes as Bergliez hurried away. "Very well then. Edwin."
"Yes, Lord?" The servant asked.
"Rouse the kitchens. See to it that there is additional food prepared for Lady Macneary."
"What the hell are you doing back here?" Bias asked the lone rider who stood before her. "Where are the others?"
The man swallowed slowly. "They're dead. The Wind Caller came with an army."
Bias stared at the man with disgust in her eyes. "Either tell me what happened or I will personally hand you to Spite."
"I told you!" The man screamed in fear, backing off a step as he raised his hands in surrender. "There was an army in the desert."
"There's not enough water in the desert to sustain an army." One of the other soldiers behind Bias muttered. "And that's before you mention food."
The man swallowed as more soldiers turned to him, their faces cold and gaunt.
"I will be reasonable." Bias snarled. "If you tell me everything that happened, I will spare you from an early grave."
The man swallowed. "When our task force reached the Wind Caller, we encountered a large task force of human soldiers."
"Bullshit." Bias hissed.
"They just refused to die!" The man protested. "For every one that we fell, two more came to replace him!"
"So what did you do then?" Bias asked, rubbing her temples in annoyance. "Flee with your tail between you legs?"
"We made a strategic retreat" The man protested. "We tried to make it to Thales, but we ran into Imperial Army forces in Fhirdiad."
"So you turned to us here." Bias snarled. "Were you followed?"
The man took another step back as a roar shook the tower.
"Guess that answers the question." Bias hissed. "Guards! Seize this worm."
"You need me!" The soldier protested.
"Yes, as a source of information." Bias spat. "If I didn't require information, I'd send you to Zahras myself!"
"Boss!" A voice from the upper levels of the tower shouted. "There's an army coming!"
Bias swore in gutter Agarthan, a choice set of curse words she had learned from Aranea over a decade prior. "Heavy infantry! Guard the gates. Mages and archers, on me!"
Macuil almost gagged at the unmistakable stench of the Agarthan force within the tower as his phantom legion formed up.
A rumble from his belly made him pause.
"I shouldn't have eaten those Agarthans." Macuil muttered to nobody in particular.
An arrow however, distracted him, though the shot bounced harmlessly off one of his scales.
Macuil glanced up as he saw the rest of the Agarthan force that he had been hunting, a dozen shadowy figures hidden in the upper reaches of the tower, each one either aiming an arrow at him or an orb of magic.
As he watched, a single figure appeared in view at the top floor of the tower.
For a long moment, the figure glared at him, and even from a great distance, he felt the unfettered hatred spill from the woman.
Then she raised her arm, and Macuil barely blinked as a roar of dark magic tore through his body.
Bias growled as she watched the dragon from her perch on the top floor of the tower, her eyes scanning for any sign of damage suffered on the part of the dragon.
"Lady Bias!" One of her senior captains called. "We are preparing for a bombardment!"
"Then fire you mindless worm!" Bias snapped back, annoyed as she turned to face the soldier before her.
"Fire!" The captain shouted when he turned to the archers and lesser magi below.
Almost instantly, a dozen arrows and orbs of fire fell upon the legions before them, ghostly figures turning to dust as they fell, the rest of the phantom legion slowly withdrawing to mend their formation.
"We did it!" The man beside her shouted. "Launch an attack! Exploit the opening!"
Something inside Bias flickered as she looked upon the dragon before her.
The dragon, visible even from a distance, had smiled.
"The only battle you should take is an execution." The voice of Spite whispered, somewhere from the depths of her mind.
"Stop!" Bias screamed, her voice failing past the first word as she met the eyes of the beast.
But it was too late. A dozen soldiers had already been teleported forward, past the front line of the phantom legion, screaming as they charged the form of the dragon.
And then the beast was gone.
Macuil found that his human form was unfamiliar to say the least, though he felt comfort in holding his sword and shield one more time.
He gave the mage one final glance before he turned to face the dozen masked soldiers stunned before him.
Before they could react, he rammed his sword through the closest soldier, the blade cutting deep as he leapt forward.
The falling body of their comrade seemed to remind the rest of the force that they stood in the middle of a battle, though Macuil knew it was too late for them to escape their deaths.
Already, members of his phantom battation had turned their blades to the intruders before their leader, and the two closest Agarthans had already been assailed by the rearguard of his defence force, their black armour disappearing under the white uniforms of his personal guard.
With a scream, an enemy swordsman charged him, his sword held high.
Macuil ducked under the attack and rammed the soldier with his shield, narrowly dodging a blade aimed at his throat a moment later.
Then he headbutted the soldier before him, staggering the man as he slashed at the soldier behind him, his blade clashing hard against the armour of the soldier.
The soldier took a step back.
"A fatal mistake." Macuil said out loud.
Bias felt a burning anger within her.
"If only I had Spite here." She muttered as she watched the first teleport wave meet their end, torn asunder as legions of shadowy soldiers tore them apart.
"Hold the gate!" Bias shouted, though she found her voice drowned out by the lines of soldiers who had rushed out of the tower, having found sight of their hated enemy.
Bias turned to the captain, but found him gone.
"Bloodthirsty maggot." Bias hissed as she stormed from the ramparts of the tower, ignoring the dozen or so archers firing madly into the frantic melee.
Macuil stepped to the front lines as his reserve company parted before him, the soldiers of his forces that had fallen to stray arrows rising up once more as he waited.
His front line had grown rather thin, the heavy infantry units he had fielded had been slowly broken as more and more Agarthans trampled their dead and dying to charge him.
Then he willed his true reserve forward, and the shouts of battle and triumph died.
His aerial battalions were quick, much faster than his initial force, and the Agarthans trying to storm out of the tower did not see them.
The Agarthans who did turned and fled, blocked by the bodies of their own comrades still within the tower.
Macuil let a slow, cold, smile spread across his face as he stalked into the courtyard of the main fort, his sword lowered as he marched forward.
"Come!" Macuil called the mass of soldiers before him, his booming voice overriding the screams of the last dying Agarthans. "Where is your leader?"
For a moment, the Agarthan legions seemed to freeze as they stared at the figure before them who had spoken.
"Are you lead by a coward?" Macuil questioned out loud. "A spineless witch who will hide behind the corpses of her followers?"
For a moment the crowd fell silent, soldiers standing and gawking at the man who had spoken.
Then the woman warped before him, and Macuil almost laughed.
Bias almost snarled at the presence of the beast as she rose to her full height, her eyes disgusted by the animal that dared to pretend to be human.
"I will kill you." Bias hissed as she levied a spear crackling with electricity at the man-shaped dragon.
The dragon cracked his head in response, no longer taunting her.
With a shout of rage, Bias charged forward, her lance clashing against the sword and shield of the dragon, the resulting clash of steel forcing her to take a small step back.
The dragon seemed to watch her as it took a step forward.
Bias responded with a stab at the leg of the beast, her rage fueling her every step as she launched three quick attacks at the beast.
The dragon laughed openly as it swatted away her attacks, the third thrust outright hitting nothing but thin air.
Bias felt rage in her heart as she unleashed a blast of shadow, the powerful attack erupting around the man-shaped dragon and devouring his frame in darkness.
A cheer rose up from the crowd as the phantom legions broke, their broken bodies fading with their leader.
Bias was the first to see it, with the figure coldly stepping out from the shadow of the attack.
The cheering crowd fell silent as Macuil stalked forward, his face impassive as he stepped out of the smoke.
Macuil watched the look of surprise on the face of the Agarthan commander turn into horror.
He took three steps toward the woman, his eyes locked into hers as he finally went to attack.
She barely resisted his first attack, a downward cut that she barely managed to parry, though she didn't seem to realize his shield was coming for her head.
The blow was heavy and vicious, and the woman staggered back, her hands having lost the grip on her lance.
Then Macuil stepped forward, slamming the bottom tip of his shield into the exposed midsection of the woman, the thin dress of the woman proving to be poor armour under the weight of his shield.
The blow left the woman gasping for breath and finally seemed to shatter the morale of the assembled Agarthan forces, the shattered remnants of the task force turning and fleeing into the tower, leaving their leader behind to die.
When the sword tore through the soft flesh of her belly and buried itself deep inside her intestines, Bias let out a cry of agony.
Then the blade was torn free of her a moment later, she barely managed a weak gurgle, the fight having sapped the last of her strength.
She lay there in the mud for a long moment, her headdress having been knocked from her head by a phantom soldier as her lifeblood mixed with the earth below her.
"The only battle you should take is an execution." Spite had reminded her over a decade prior.
"Oh." Bias whispered as she felt her head become light. "It was my execution then."
When the sun peaked on the distant horizon, its first rays were blocked by the trees around the tower, followed by the black stone of the fortress itself.
When the light of the sun filled the eyes of Bias, she couldn't see it anymore.
"Are we ready to move into Zahras?" Chilon asked as he watched Thales carefully.
The leader of Shambhala slowly put down his empty tea cup and watched the commander carefully.
"Has there been any word from Pittacus or Bias?" Thales asked calmly.
Chilon shook his head. "Neither force has reported anything of interest in the last twenty-four hours."
Thales nodded. "So be it. We will march into Zahras."
"Shall I wake the condemned?"
"No. They will have to be carried to the grounds regardless. I had their limbs broken to prevent any attempt to escape."
"Sounds like something Spite would do."
"I would like to remind you that his official name is Periander, which he took upon the death of my predecessor." Thales said.
"Right." Chilon said. "I'll prepare a bodyguard unit."
"No need." Thales said. "The previous Periander created a relic that allowed us to quicken our work."
"I was told by S-Periander that the device could be dangerous."
"It is, but I do not fear the dead of Zahras." Thales said. "Periander is too considerate of the weak to truly be effective enough to win the war."
"Very well then." Chilon said as he shut the door behind him.
AN: Right. Chapter 16 is done. It is by far the longest chapter I've done to date (with the AN section, it's sitting at 7500+ words).
Potential questions I see coming from readers:
Who is Periander?
Periander is the "Official" name for Spite. Basically, only Thales uses it. In canon, the command cadre of Shambhala seems to be based off of the Seven Sages of Greece (Only exception to this seems to be Cornelia). Six names are canon within the game (Thales, Solon, Myson, Pittacus, Bias, and Chilon). I completed the set with the name Periander, which I gave to Spite. I plan to expand on the naming system in the near future.
Why did I write Macuil to be so bloodthirsty and aggressive?
Macuil is the strategist of the Four Saints. In this particular battle, he used the eagerness of the Agarthan force against them, later breaking their morale by defeating Bias in combat. Also, since he was facing the forces of his archenemy (Agartha), and was in fact stalking the remnants of the task force that had tried to kill him, I made him much more aggressive and brutal than the limited screen time we see in game, where he's merely "fighting" against the children of the Elites.
Why was this chapter so slow?
I had considerable difficulty with writing the "kidnap" scene that came with Spite. I toyed with multiple drafts that saw him subdue the traitors in different ways, but ultimately went with the idea that he terrorized one into cooperating with him. Also, I had IRL things (New Years, school starting again).
Stuff in the next chapter:
Thales goes on a field trip.
Cicol and Cethleann explain things.
Spite does mean things to people.
More problems in the north.
More people in carriages.