Chapter 17: Divine Right.

"You alright?" Yurius asked as he sat down next to his partner at the breakfast table the tavern offered.

Mortis glared at him in response, and Yurius noticed the dark rings around her eyes.

"Mori Mori, what the hell happened?"

Mortis sighed. "Call me that again and you'll wake up tomorrow with a slit throat."

"I'm serious though." Yurius continued. "You look like you haven't slept a wink."

Mortis paused as she took a sip of her tea, grimacing at the plain, almost flavourless taste. "That's because I haven't slept a wink."

"Is this related to Spite?"

Mortis glared at him before she looked away to scan the room. "Yes."

"Do you believe her?" Yurius asked. "Leonie I mean."

"I don't want to." Mortis replied, a flash of emotion in her eyes as she turned back. "But at the same time, she knows too much for it to be some kind of deranged fantasy."

"Why is that?" Yurius asked. "Why would Solon kill Kronya?"

"Two reasons." Mortis replied.

"What are those?"

"To open a portal to Zahras requires the heart of a Agarthan." Mortis explained. "The closest heart next to Solon would have been Kronya."

"And what is the second reason?" Yurius asked.

"Because Solon once had a brother too."

"Who was this?"

"Thersites."

Yurius gave Mortis a blank look. "Alright. Fine. You're the only mage outside Spite, Aranea, and the Septet that I know by name."

Mortis sighed. "He was the last survivor of the assassination. Spite crushed his throat in front of half of Shambhala."

"Why the hell did Spite do that?" Yurius asked.

"He explained to me later on that he knew that Thersites would have run to his brother with the truth if he had been allowed to leave the room alive."

"So why did he spare you then?" Yurius asked.

"He needed someone to do dirty work for him" Mortis said with a roll of her eyes. "And of course, Kronya."

"What does she have to do with anything?" Yurius asked, raising an eyebrow as he poured himself a cup of tea.

"He needed me to be a guardian to Kronya whenever he wasn't able to do it himself."

"Kronya didn't enter service for years after the incident."

"He had me conduct other dirty work in the meanwhile." Mortis said with a shrug. "Still, the work was interesting."

"What kind of work do you mean?" Yurius asked after taking a sip of the tea.

"Cleanup." Mortis said, watching her partner carefully. "Remember, Cornelia became our… ally during that particular time."

"And what did you do for Spite?" Yurius asked.

"I travelled with Spite. Learned from him the finer points of stabbing a victim."

Yurius gave a quick glance around the room before he continued. "How long did this take?"

"Spite was recalled to Enbarr before we could finish, so he entrusted the rest of the work to me."

"How many?"

"Twelve in total. He taught me for nine of them. Knives, poison, magic, you name it. I finished off the last three alone."

"This when you learned to use Mire creatively?"

Mortis nodded. "I drove a man insane with hallucinations. The town guard finished him off without me lifting another finger."

"And what did you get out of it?"

"Apart from not killing me?" Mortis asked, watching Yurius carefully.

"Spite sent me a number of books he had pillaged from the libraries of Enbarr's noble estates." Mortis admitted finally.

"Just books?"

Mortis shook her head. "He has excellent taste in clothing."

"He bought you clothes?" Yurius asked in slight disbelief.

"The last target had made himself an important administrator in Duscar." Mortis explained. "I infiltrated a ball they had held and poisoned him. When I came back, Spite allowed me to keep the dress."

"Are incidents like this why I didn't see you much after the attempt on Spite's life?"

Mortis scoffed. "Spite was never in danger. He probably saw the assassination attempt happen from a mile away."

Yurius frowned before he changed the topic. "So after you killed this last guy, you stayed with A-erm, Cornelia?"

"Spite had me return to Cornelia until he could personally give me my next assignment. It was with the two of them that I watched Operation Noose unfold."

"And what assignment did you get after that?"

"Didn't get a major assignment until much later." Mortis replied. "Spite encouraged me to continue training over the years, and I only left Shambhala to join the occasional hunting expedition or to personally deliver a message to Cornelia."

"And then the Kronya mission." Yurius finished. "That was your first major mission after Noose."

Mortis nodded with a sigh. "And we all know how that ended."

"You think the others will be up late? Yurius asked.

"Ignatz and Lorenz should be up soon. Even if Leonie is awake, she'll be too hung over to be of any use."

"So we wait then?" Yurius asked.

"We don't have a carriage anymore remember?" Mortis shot back with a shrug. "We hardly have a choice."

Gilbert groaned as he opened his eyes, raising a hand to block out the sun that was far too strong for his liking.

"You are awake then." A voice said.

Gilbert tried to reply, but managed only a coughing fit that doubled him over.

"You should rest." The voice said. "We will reach Garreg Mach within the next two or three days."

The thought of the place that he had failed brought up memories that taunted Gilbert.

Fleeing the town in disgrace no less than twice, the crying face of his only child as she faced him in battle.

When Annette's face had been engulfed in flames and smoke, Gilbert shed a tear.

Indech turned to the two other travellers that had been kind enough to let him hitch a ride.

"I apologize." Indech said. "The wounds of my companion have yet to heal fully."

The couple smiled weakly in turn. "No, it's quite alright." The woman said. "I'm sure Garreg Mach has healers willing to help him."

Indech nodded. "Have you visited the site?"

The man nodded. "Not since the war broke out. What about you?"

Indech paused before he answered. "Not for a very long time, I'm afraid."

"Then it'll be an experience for all of us." The man said with a smile.

"Is he going to be alright?" Ingrid asked the gruff guard who stood by Sylvain's tent.

"I'm no medic, so I can't say." The guard said.

"Can't you guess?" Ingrid asked.

"He's been through a lot." One of the other guards offered helpfully.

"He was hit on the head when he fell." One of the few female guards offered.

"How did that happen?" Ingrid asked.

"He rode into a trap." The gruff guard explained. "Hit his head when his horse was knocked over."

Ingrid nodded. "Alright then."

"Is there anything else you need to know?" The lead guard asked. "Are you hungry or thirsty?"

"Where is Ashe?" Ingrid asked.

"Away." The man replied. "He left to collect the rearguard of our forces at the camp where we rescued you."

Ingrid nodded. "When he gets back, we return to the capital then?"

"Correct." The man replied. "We need to ensure that you and Gauthier here get treatment."

Ingrid frowned before she looked at the man. "Do I happen to know you?"

The man turned his head slightly in response, his eyes wary. "You might."

"Douglas, Ashe is coming back." One of the sentries called.

The gruff man nodded as he turned away from Ingrid. "I have work I must prepare for, pardon me."

"Hilda." Seteth said as he watched the woman climb down the stairs.

"Oh my, Seteth." Hilda replied. "How are you?"

Seteth turned to the statue of him that had been carved out so many centuries prior. "I suppose I have been better."

Hilda nodded as she sat down on a bench, Seteth joining her.

"Are you decided to change into a squirrel?" Seteth asked.

Hilda laughed at that, though she doubled over in a coughing fit.

"Hilda?" Marianne asked from the doorway. "What are you doing outside your room? You are still injured."

"Bored." Hilda replied with a shrug.

Marianne sighed as she turned to Seteth. "I apologize, Ci-Seteth."

"It's quite alright." Seteth replied. "But please, do call me Seteth."

Hilda looked at her friend strangely. "Ci?"

Seteth coughed lightly. "That is for another day."

Hilda frowned before she looked around, her eyes finding the statue of Saint Cichol.

"Your name is Cichol?" Hilda asked, enlightenment dawning on her face.

Marianne and Seteth exchanged a glance, but otherwise remained silent.

"Is it alright if I tell her?" Marianne asked.

Seteth nodded as he closed his eyes. "My name is Cichol, yes."

"Your parents named you after the saint?" Hilda asked.

"Hilda." Marianne said in a low voice. "Seteth is Saint Cichol."

Hilda gave Seteth a strange look before looking at the statue.

"Well, I see the resemblance." Hilda admitted. "Is Flayn-"

"Yes." Seteth said firmly. "If possible, I would like to end the conversation there."

"Alright then." Hilda said, her eyes unable to leave the statue of Saint Cethleann. "Wow."

Seteth remained quiet for a long moment. "Are there any other questions you want to ask me?"

"Why did you keep it a secret all this time?" Hilda asked. "About being Saint Cichol?"

Seteth grimaced. "We had enemies."

Hilda blinked. "We all have enemies."

Seteth opened his mouth as if to try to make another point, but closed his mouth shortly after.

"What is it about Arianrhod that you remember?" Seteth asked.

"Arianrhod?" Hilda asked. "I don't know. I didn't fight there."

"She was badly injured defending Derdriu." Marianne explained. "We evacuated her to Garreg Mach to ensure her injuries could be looked after."

Seteth nodded. "And how serious were the injuries?"

Marianne glared at Hilda before turning back to Seteth. "Ashe and Caspar had to carry her to Linhardt for healing."

Hilda shook her head. "All I remember is someone screaming for Ingrid."

"You had lost a lot of blood." Marianne chided her friend. "It's also why we aren't letting you out of your room until Manuela lets us."

Seteth closed his eyes as he seemed to be in thought. "May I change the topic?"

"Oh. That's right. You asked about Arianrhod." Marianne stammered. "I'll try to help as best I can."

"I was told the city was destroyed by javelins of light." Seteth said, his eyes locking with Marianne.

"It was." The blue haired woman replied. "A third of our army there was killed in the attack."

Seteth closed his eyes and whispered a single word.

"Hold on, isn't that the apple Linhardt is trying to find?" Hilda asked the equally confused Marianne.

"What do you know about Nemesis?" Seteth asked when he opened his eyes again, watching the two girls carefully.

Hilda and Marianne shared a glance, but otherwise didn't answer.

"Is there something about the War of Heroes we don't know about?" Hilda asked.

Seteth nodded. "When she was alive, Rhea spent a great deal of time crafting a story that was… acceptable to her objectives."

"So you're saying that we've been lied to all this time?" Linhardt asked from the doorway.

"Linhardt." Seteth said quietly. "How long have you been listening in?"

"I heard my name." The scholar replied as he came closer to the trio. "What was this about the Archbishop?"

Seteth grimaced. "When I came to my role in the church, I discovered that Rhea had created a history that was more appealing to the common people of Fodlan than the truth."

"So what you are saying is that there are things about history that Rhea lied to us about?" Linhardt asked.

Seteth paused for a moment before he nodded.

"What is it about history that isn't true then?" Hilda asked. "What did Rhea lie about?"

Seteth's eyes shifted for a moment as he seemed to attempt to gather the right words. "There are two particular lies that were spread."

"Just two?" Hilda asked.

"Two major ones." Seteth said, pausing before he continued. "It would take up too much time to recount all of them."

"Flayn, you can come out." Hilda called out.

A moment later, Flayn ran into the arms of her father, Seteth taking the time to hug his daughter before he continued.

"In the old war, the Elites were not our allies. They were thieves and murderers."

Flayn tightened her arms around the waist of Seteth, who paused in reply, his eyes watching the faces of the others quietly.

"I watched Nemesis kill my wife." Seteth admitted finally.

"Do you understand why I chose this site now?" Thales asked as he stepped forward in the early morning sun.

Chilon paused before he shook his head.

Thales sighed as his gaze settled on a trio of prisoners, each one of their faces branded with a black mark, signifying that they were condemned to death.

"This area is one particular nexus into the cursed domain of Zahras." Thales said. "Periander would also tell you this is where the doomed escape from Old Agartha took place."

Chilon paused as Myson arrived at the scene, giving a faint salute as the three men focused on a stony, moss covered pavillion.

"Myson." Thales called.

"Yes my liege." Myson replied.

"Open a portal to Zahras." Thales said.

"Just the six of us?" Myson asked.

Chilon gave the warlock a glare from behind his helmet, but said nothing as Thales turned to the unfortunate Myson.

"These three worms gave their right to live when they failed in service at Shangri-la. They are no longer considered part of us."

Myson swallowed as he looked upon the three prisoners, their bodies both broken and wasted away.

Slowly, Myson turned to Thales, who raised a pale hand, a stone heart in his embrace.

"Now, show me what Periander has taught you." Thales ordered.

Myson paused as he took the stone, glancing at the form of Chilon one final time before he began.

It began slowly at first, the smallest wisps of dark magic surrounding the air as Myson stood silent, sweat slipping from his face as he willed more magic into the dark stone.

Even Chilon took a nervous step back as Myson fell to one knee, though his movement was stopped by the appearance of a wall of dark fire.

With a powerful shout, Myson crushed the stone.

And then the darkness consumed them.

"There's probably not much left." Spite said as he glanced down the crevice that held the remains of the last deserter.

"Yeah." The repentant deserter admitted. "That's where we dumped him."

Spite nodded as he threw an orb of fire down below, the flames cutting through the mist of the early morning.

At the sight of the dead body, even the hardened killers of the warband winced.

"Do we have to go down there?" The only female archer asked, becoming more and more pale by the second.

"I have no intention of going down there." Spite said. "Neither do I expect any of you to go."

The leader of the warband nodded as he waved his men forward.

"Are you sure about not going down there?" One of the other members of the warband asked.

"Why would I be not sure?" Spite asked.

"Isn't there a protocol of taking the heart of the dead from them?"

"Correct." Spite said. "Good of you to remember our regulations."

"So, erm, why are we not following that regulation?" The man asked.

Spite chuckled as he pulled a stone from the folds of his coat. "Already done. But good observation regardless."

"When did you take that?" The female archer asked, looking mildly disgusted.

"When I first climbed down there." Spite replied. "I determined that it wasn't going to be practical to get him out, so I punished him early."

The two deserters exchanged a nervous glance.

"No matter. We'll return to base." Spite said. "I'm sure that you are all tired."

"Oh, did the two of you see anything relating to the kid that was killed?" The lead archer asked the two cooks standing before them.

"The kid who was killed?" The man asked, his voice surprised. "I didn't know that someone was dead."

"Ryan, the young man who came from Shangri-la." Spite explained. "A soldier found him stabbed to death in the mess hall."

The cook seemed stunned. "I had no idea. I was asleep at the time and everything."

Spite nodded. "Worth a try regardless."

"Who do you think it was?" The lead archer asked.

"Did I tell you that my office was broken into the night Ryan was killed?" Spite asked.

The warband froze.

"Someone broke into your office?" The female archer asked, her jaw dropping low.

"The door had been blown off its hinges." Spite confirmed.

The warband exchanged gazes, but otherwise remained silent.

"No matter. I suspect this case will resolve itself."

The crew paused. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just a question of human nature, nothing more." Spite said as he turned back to Shambhala.

"What is in box?" Petra asked the man sitting before her in the carriage.

Gregory Dominic shuffled uncomfortably as he exchanged a glance with Madeline, his hands firmly clasped in his lap.

"It's alright Gregory." His sister in law said gently. "She'll understand."

"It's a gift." Gregory explained weakly.

"A gift?" The dark skinned woman asked.

Gregory paused before he spoke again. "Its name is Crusher. It is a relic from the War of Heroes."

The woman seemed to make the connection quickly. "Annette?"

Gregory paused. "Yes, I am her uncle."

The woman seemed surprised but also seemed to lose interest in the weapon. "Do you have Crest?"

Gregory and Madeline both shook their heads.

"My brother possesses a Crest." Gregory said at last. "But no, I do not."

The woman paused. "Gustave Dominic?"

Madeline stiffened, and the woman seemed to realize her mistake.

"I am sorry. I want not hurt your feelings." The woman corrected quickly.

"May I ask you about Annette?" Madeline asked after a moment.

The woman nodded in response.

"Is she doing well?"

Petra nodded. "She is healthy."

"Does she still have her doll?" Madeline asked.

Petra blinked blankly at the question.

Gregory coughed weakly as he translated the question to the main tongue of Brigid.

Petra stared at the man in surprise before she answered quickly.

"She still has the doll." Gregory confirmed to Madeline.

A single tear fell from the face of the other woman.

"How did you know Brigid?" Petra asked.

Gregory paused even as he felt the gaze of Madeline on him.

"I met a young woman once. I gained an interest in learning the language after meeting her."

"Brigid?" Petra asked.

Gregory shook his head. "I don't know, but I later realized that she was speaking one of the main languages of Brigid."

Madeline seemed surprised. "When was this?"

Gregory shook his head. "It's was when Annette was young. The time Archbishop Rhea visited us."

Madeline shook her head regardless.

"Do you remember when there was a poacher in the Coldstream Forest?" Gregory asked his sister in law.

Madeline frowned. "The one from the Empire?"

"Yes, that particular poacher."

"What does that have to do with Brigid?" Madeline asked.

"At the time, I wrote off the poacher as dead, turned in a bow as proof of the deed."

"But you didn't kill him." Madeline finished.

"Her." Gregory corrected. "I slipped her into a cart to Garreg Mach."

"Why?" Madeline asked.

Gregory shook his head. "She was just a child at the time. It would have been unbecoming of me to turn her in. She would have been killed for the poaching."

Madeline frowned. "A child?"

"She was starving." Gregory explained weakly. "I offered her a piece of bread for the bow, and she more or less threw her bow at me in exchange."

"Who was she?' Madeline asked.

"I don't know." Gregory admitted. "I didn't even get her name."

Petra opened her mouth as the carriage descended into silence, but closed her mouth a moment later.

"Sleep well?" Byleth asked Edelgard as the two of them laid in bed.

Edelgard frowned as she opened her eyes. "How did you know I was awake?"

"Your eyes were twitching." Byleth explained.

Edelgard let out an annoyed sigh in response, but gave her body pillow a slight smile regardless.

"What time is it?" Edelgard asked.

"Seems like an early morning." Byleth replied.

Edelgard sighed as she rose from the large bed they shared, followed by Byleth as they quickly passed their scattered clothes.

"Will you be dressed like an emperor today or just El?" Byleth asked as they opened the window, smiling as bright sunlight illuminated Edelgard.

"Oh no." Edelgard gasped.

"What's wrong?" Byleth asked.

"We're late." Edelgard said, rushing from his embrace.

Byleth stood and looked at the town before them for a moment before something inside him snapped.

A moment later, he was alongside Edelgard, frantically tearing through his packed luggage for an outfit suitable for the midday heat.

He started with a white starched shirt, a gift from Hubert when he had arrived in Enbarr after the war, and followed up hastily with dark trousers and his boots.

"Do I look presentable?" Edelgard asked, wearing a simple gray dress and white shoes.

Byleth responded with a nod and the two of them hurried out, nearly knocking over Hubert in the process.

"Good morning, Lady Edelgard, Professor." Hubert said quietly, his eyes unwilling to meet theirs.

"We overslept." Edelgard said hastily. "We should move as soon as possible."

"Correct." Hubert said. "That being said, we are held up."

Edelgard and Byleth both paused at the words.

"Why is that?" Edelgard asked.

"Remember the order to dismiss the militia?" Hubert asked.

Edelgard paused and nodded. "Yes, what of it?"

"Three regiments worth of decommissioned soldiers and their personal effects have clogged up the road moving forward." Hubert said. "There are large scale celebrations in the street."

"So we aren't going anywhere." Byleth concluded.

Hubert paused. "We do have a solution in hand, but it'll be very uncomfortable."

"Go on." Byleth said, his attention drawn.

"We could cross through the Morganite Ravine." Hubert said, watching the reactions of the other two carefully. "It would slow our move to Garreg Mach, but we could avoid the demobilizing soldiers that way."

Edelgard grimaced. "The Morganite Ravine is treacherous."

Byleth frowned. "How dangerous is it?"

"Morganite is a cheap imitation of diamond." Hubert said. "The Ravine has a number of mines, but the settlements there are small and few in between."

"Good." Byleth said. "We can avoid detection then."

"It's settled then." Hubert said with a nod. "How do you propose we leave the town as it is?"

"Manuela and Hanneman are the members of our group least likely to cause a commotion." Byleth reasoned. "Have them ride with our carriage drivers until we can leave town safely. "

Hubert nodded as he turned away to tell the other members of the strike force. "A sound plan."

"Let's grab some breakfast while we still can." Byleth whispered to Edelgard as they two of them followed Hubert.

Ashe nodded quietly when he dismounted his horse, giving a slight nod of greeting to Douglas before he turned to Ingrid.

"I trust you are better." Ashe said quietly.

Ingrid nodded as she glanced at the other general of the group. "Did you find anything from the investigation?"

Ashe paused for a moment before he pulled something from the folds of his uniform. "I'm unsure of what this is." He admitted finally.

Ingrid frowned at the strip of dark cloth before turning the strip over, her face darkening at the pale eye that consisted of the insignia.

"What is it?" Ingrid asked.

"I don't know." Ashe replied. "I was hoping our prisoner would be willing to talk to us."

"Our prisoner is asleep." Douglas said quickly.

"Alright then." Ashe said. "Load her up onto a horse and we'll head back to Fhirdiad. We can talk there."

Caspar glared at the three men desperately holding him back.

"I'm going to go in there and stop this riot." Caspar said angrily.

"Sir." The senior member of the squad stammered. "When we asked for your help, we didn't want a full on brawl with civilians."

Caspar gave the man a dirty look before he turned around. "A brawl is what you're going to get. I'm not going to stand by while this injustice unfolds."

Before any of the three soldiers could offer a protest, Caspar broke free, storming forward into the fight with all the subtlety of a raging demonic beast.

"You!" Caspar roared. "Stop right there!"

At his words, the raging mob broke off for a second at the man storming before them.

Then one of the men rushed forward, fists raised for a fight.

In a swift move, Caspar took the punch full on, the blow bouncing off harmlessly against his chest.

The man seemed stunned by the punch, staggering back as Caspar replied with a vicious punch to the stomach, the blow knocking the man back, his jaw hanging open as he gasped for breath.

Then Caspar silenced the man with an uppercut, his unfortunate victim's head snapping back as the full blow was eaten by his chin.

"SILENCE!" Caspar roared at the rioting crowd, a half dozen screaming figures having yet to notice his presence.

But even the booming shout did nothing, and Caspar growled as he brought his foot down on his prone victim, his boot finding an exposed wrist.

The man screamed in agony, the wail loud enough to even make the three soldiers accompanying Caspar wince and take a small step back.

But the scream worked, and a dozen faces turned to Caspar, the din having expired immediately.

"What in the world is going on?" Caspar raged as he stared down the crowd of shocked and stunned faces, his eyes murderous.

"I was going to ask the same thing." Felix snarled as he stalked forward, two dozen armed soldiers behind him.

"There was a riot." One of the three soldiers explained weakly. "A Duscar woman had a loaf of bread stolen from her."

"Lie!" A voice in the crowd shouted. "She stole the bread!"

"Is this true?" An older soldier asked the man who had first spoken up.

"Who is the victim again?" A voice asked.

"Quartermaster Anna." Felix acknowledged as he turned to the woman.

A single boy seemed to step away, his change in position allowing the crowd to notice the woman half buried in mud.

"Guards." Felix barked. "Seize the rioters. Half rations for those involved with the riot."

"You heard the man." The older soldier snapped.

"I won't stand for this!" A voice shouted from the crowd. "You animal! You would side with the Duscar? The same Duscar who murdered King Lambert?"

"Seize him too." Felix muttered as Caspar moved toward the half buried woman.

When the first woman refused to budge from her position, Caspar struck with a vicious right hook, his blow sending his target sprawling to the ground.

The act sent the crowd into a frenzy once more as soldiers hastily moved forward, knocking back assailants with their shields and the blunt ends of their spears.

But Caspar stood before the pack by no less than three paces, calmly breaking any rioter unfortunate enough to get between him and the downed Duscarian woman.

The first man to oppose him was tall and blonde, his ragged clothes once made of fine cloth, his flabby arms indicating that he was likely a merchant in a past life.

Caspar treated him with a punch to the groin, the blow leaving the man winded as Caspar followed by dashing his forehead against the man's face, the man recoiling back with a visibly shattered nose.

But even as Caspar took his next step, the crowd had lost all cohesion. Men and women rallied against individual soldiers, easily being thrown back and subsequently trampled into the mud.

"Push forward!" Felix barked. "This riot ends right here, right now."

At the words of their general, the scattered members of the battalion pushed forward, a solid wall against the mass of flesh.

But none of them could reach Caspar, now in the thick of the fight.

"By the Emperor!" One of the soldiers holding the shield wall cried as Caspar dispatched a boy with a downward strike, the flailing body knocked back up when his chin met Caspar's knee.

"Am I glad I'm not fighting him." One of the other guards winced as their pushed their wall forward, forcing the disoriented rioters back.

"What did we come back to?" Ingrid groaned from behind Felix.

"Looks like a riot." Ashe said with a slight sigh.

"You two!" Felix snapped. "Help us-wait, when did you get here?"

"The healers in the medical tent directed us here." Ashe explained. "Said that there was trouble brewing here."

Felix glared at Ingrid. "You're hurt."

Ashe sighed. "Look, I tried to get her to see medical help, but she refused."

"I can get help once this mess is cleaned up." Ingrid shot back. "It is our duty regardless."

"General Fraildarius! General Bergliez has returned!"

The three assembled generals turned to find Caspar storm past the shield wall, a woman carried over his arm.

"She needs medical help." Caspar said weakly.

"I'll go." Ashe said quickly. "It looks like this riot is under control."

"Quartermaster Anna." Felix snapped.

"Use that tone against me one more time and I'll demand the rest of your debts right now." Anna shot back.

Felix grimaced before he continued in a slightly less aggressive tone. "You have command here. I must see to it that the injured are looked after."

"For the last time!" Ingrid protested. "I'm fine!"

Felix and Ashe shared a glance as Caspar loaded the unconscious woman onto Ashe's mount.

"Ashe, you mind if I borrow your horse?" Caspar asked.

"Huh?" Ashe asked. "Of course not. Go ahead."

"Thanks- wait." Caspar said, turning around suddenly. "When did you two get back?"

"Just go." Felix sighed as he turned back to Ingrid, waving away Caspar.

"We found something." Ingrid said as they stepped into the shade of a nearby tent, emptied over the course of the riot.

"What is it?" Felix asked.

"We took a prisoner." Ashe said.

"Where were they from?" Felix asked.

"We have a unit insignia." Ingrid said. "I'm not sure if you know it."

Felix paused as he glanced at the eye on the strip of cloth.

"You know it." Ingrid said.

"We saw it on the uniforms of the soldiers massacred by the dragon." Felix said finally.

Ingrid swallowed at the mention of the dragon, but otherwise remained impassive.

"Are you alright?" Felix asked Ingrid.

"My injuries aren't serious." Ingrid said with a wave of the hand. "Douglas patched up a number of my wounds before we left."

Felix nodded. "Regardless, we need to see a proper doctor."

"Once he says I'm fine, can we get back to the topic at hand?" Ingrid asked, finally relenting despite her annoyance.

Felix nodded as he turned for the direction of the medical tents. "There is much we need to do."

Spite sighed as he stepped from his personal shower, wiping his hand against his freshly trimmed face, his face a mask of disgust as he toyed with his radio.

"Seems like Mortis is busy travelling." Spite muttered.

"Boss?" Odesse asked from the doorway.

Spite glanced at the lesser mage in annoyance before he turned to the younger man. "Yes?"

"A mage has claimed that they found the killer while you were gone."

"Has anyone been through my office while you were here?" Spite asked in turn, rising from his desk.

"I had the wing sealed." Odesse explained. "Nobody had the key except for me."

Spite nodded as he shrugged on his jacket, pausing to grab the Staff of Circe. "Very well then. Let us go."

"Who do you think did it?" Odesse asked as they crossed the first of many catwalks.

"It doesn't matter." Spite replied. "The real killer has yet to expose himself."

"Then how do you propose you'll find him?"

"Torture and deception." Spite said with a shrug. "Probably the former first."

Odesse swallowed hard as he hurried to open a door for his superior.

"Stop that." Spite snapped. "I'm more than capable of opening a door myself."

Odesse swallowed as he backed off a step, allowing his superior officer to pass.

"What will you do with them then?" Odesse asked.

"A public execution." Spite said with a shrug. "Then back to business."

Odesse paused. "I guess it's a hard job that you have."

"It is a tiring job, yes." Spite said. "Receiving the position is often the easy part. Holding onto it is the most difficult aspect."

Odesse nodded as the two men descended a flight of stairs. "How did you get the job?"

Spite shrugged as he turned down another catwalk. "My predecessor left for field work. The job was vacant."

"And how did he get his job?" Odesse asked.

"The last overlord to seize the job by force was the previous Periander, who would rise to Agastya later on in his life." Spite said with a growl of annoyance. "His successor was Thales, who was in turn succeeded by Solon."

"And you took over after that." Odesse finished.

Spite nodded as he threw open the doors to the mess hall, taking a moment to acknowledge the rest of the assembled army.

"Lord Spite." A man said from the centre.

Spite looked upon the man before he frowned. "It's Periander, petty mage."

The man paused before he continued. "Right. We have found the guilty party."

"Good." Spite said calmly. "Show me. I will separate his head from his shoulders."

The man took a slight step back as Spite turned to him.

"I did not come here to waste time and wait." Spite snarled. "Show me the murderer so I can tear his head from his shoulders."

The man swallowed before he pointed to Spite.

"You are the murderer we have been looking for."

"Alright." Spite said with a roll of his eyes and a halfhearted chuckle. "What is your proof?"

The man blinked. "You killed him for flirting with your mistress."

Someone in the crowd began to laugh hysterically, the silence broken.

The mage turned to the interruption, murder on his face.

A second man began to laugh, followed by a half dozen more.

Spite looked at the mage with a strange look on his face. "I don't have a mistress."

"Private Ryan was recorded in saying he had an interest in your mistress."

"She's my apprentice." Spite corrected with annoyance in his voice. "How many times do I have to make that fact clear?"

The man grimaced as he looked away. "But you still killed him for flirting with your apprentice."

"Why would I do that?" Spite asked calmly as he stepped forward.

"You killed a certain Wilhelm before." The man said. "Tortured him to death over many hours."

"Correct." Spite said with a slow grin spreading over his features. "Wilhelm died a long and slow death. By the end, he had lost his voice from screaming."

"Seize him!" The mage shouted. "He's confessed to murder!"

The crowd stood still.

Spite, still wearing a lunatic's grin, merely chuckled. "Are you done?"

The man froze as he seemed to realize his mistake.

"Guards. Seize this prankster." Spite barked. "He'll be cleaning your latrines for the rest of his life."

"You can't!" The man shouted as two men stepped forward.

"I most certainly can." Spite said as he nodded to the men behind the mage.

At the first sign of a hand on his shoulder, the mage threw off the man with a spin of the shoulder, tossing a ball of fire at Spite in the process.

The ball struck Spite square in the chest, though the crimson haired man only smiled at the provocation.

"Good." Spite said. "Creating a false alarm is only grounds for light punishment. Odesse?"

"Yes sir?" The lesser mage stammered.

"Remind me the punishment for assaulting a peer?"

"A double reprimand, sir," Odesse offered. "And if he was to assault an officer, then it's a summary execution."

"And who would decide the execution?" Spite asked.

"One of the Septet." Odesse said. "Namely, Thales, Solon, Bias, Pittacus, Periander, Chilon, or Myson."

"And of the six standing members, who is the only one present in Shambhala?"

"You sir." Odesse stammered.

"Very good Odesse." Spite said as he turned back to the restrained mage.

"Break his arms." Spite said.

"Upper or lower?" The leftmost soldier asked.

"Both if you wish. That being said, I alone hold the pleasure of ending his life."

"Not a problem." The man said as multiple soldiers turned on the mage, each excited to torture the unfortunate mage.

Spite turned his back on the crowd as he turned back to his office, shutting the doors behind him to block out the condemned man's screams.

"May I ask you something?" Odesse asked.

Spite raised an eyebrow. "Very well then."

"Was it true that you had this Wilhelm tortured to death?"

"No." Spite replied. "I personally tortured him to death. Nobody else had the pleasure to act on it."

"You weren't punished for it?"

"Wilhelm had ambitions to become one of the Septet." Spite explained. "He also had a long history of annoying Bias, Pittacus, and any woman unfortunate to be in Shambhala at the same time as him."

"Did he harass Mortis?"

"No." Spite replied. "He struck her."

Odesse swallowed. "So how did that end?"

"Rather well for me." Spite explained. "Solon and Thales were both away during the incident, and Bias was more than content to make a complaint dated to the date before to justify the execution."

Odesse raised an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that look." Spite said with a scoff. "It was an act of mutual interest for us. I got to make an example of that worm, and Bias made sure her blood brother made the next Chilon."

Odesse winced. "I only heard bits and pieces of the story back in Shangri-la. There was a lot of whispers, but no concrete explanation."

"That's because neither of us bothered to tell Shangri-la the full story" Spite said with a shrug. "Even if we did send over the full story, Patricia wouldn't have told you the truth anyways."

AN: Surprises surprises. Both in the chapter and in the near future.

As always. Read, Review, Follow, Favourite. etc.

Seriously, Review. If there was anything you wanted to say, say it.

Still looking for a beta.

Next time:

Thales blows.

Mortis talks to Spite.

Bow of blood and fire.

The hardest words.

Nature of the Beast.

A woman scorned.