Interlude) Loyalty

Sometimes, the full weight of what's going on hits me like a landslide. Here we are, camping in the middle of nowhere, in enemy territory, while we recover enough to head towards Renvall or whatever the place is called. Renvall, the place Novalla claimed Ephraim was before he killed that little girl. As far as I know, it's the first location we've gotten about where he is. Where Orson is. Where Forde and Kyle are.

Is it a lie? Truth? Hard to say. But it's the only lead we have. We are so going to walk into a trap.

"Special delivery!" I chirped, purposely keeping myself cheerful as I pushed through the flap of the 'infirmary tent'. The inside was as dull as always, pale whites and browns with slightly darker shades for the tables and cots and blankets, but I didn't pay attention to that. For one thing, I was used to it after the last few days. For another, my attention immediately went to the sole patient of the infirmary: Vanessa. As typical, she was fast asleep, with her unbraided hair tucked neatly underneath her and the blankets, looking as still as a corpse. Though, at least she didn't look as pasty as she had the last couple of days. "Apple pancakes!"

"Emma, you and Neimi spoil me," Moulder laughed, smiling warmly as he helped me unpack one of the baskets I carried. It had not only food for him, but for Vanessa as well, though her foods were things that could stay out and covered for long periods of time. "Where did you even find so many apples?"

"I'm not the one who went foraging." I didn't want to talk about how they came from the groves of an nearby village that had been abandoned. I was reminded too much of Rosewatch and… "Gilliam mentioned these were your favorite."

"They are indeed." He chuckled and actually went ahead to cut off a small bite before helping me set out the water for him and Vanessa. Today was his day to watch her, so he'd be in here until the evening. "Move Vanessa's water a little closer to her, will you?"

"Okay." Carefully, I set out Vanessa's food and water on the box we used as a makeshift table for her. While I did so, I studied her out of the corner of my eye, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. A movement that proved she wasn't dead. "Is it normal for her to sleep so much?"

"Yes, healing takes a great amount of strength from the body and her wound was grave." Moulder said the words gently and reassuring, even as he sat down at his own table to tuck into the pancakes. "She recovers well, and the periods she is able to stay awake grow longer by the day."

"That's… that's good." I didn't know what else to say. I still felt awful for what happened.

"It is, and she is able to hold conversations." ...Something about his tone made me look up, and I saw him smiling with such serene politeness that I was actually terrified. "Which reminds me. I apparently owe you a lecture."

"A lecture…?" It took me a full second to realize, and remember, what he meant. "Ha… she told you where most of my bruises actually came from, didn't she?" Considering everything, particularly my other injuries, I'd forgotten that I'd killed the first spider by diving off Titania.

"Indeed. However, she also begged for me to wait until she can listen." Seriously, I had no idea how he managed to put the whole 'parental lecture of doom' fear in me while he was stuffing his face with apple pancakes, but damn if he didn't. "I trust you will look forward to it."

"Right… sure…" Haha… oh hell. Even worse? I knew most everyone assumed all of my injuries had come from fighting the spider, so once the others learned… "I think I'll run away now, though."

His good-natured chuckle followed me out, and I spared a thought to my impending doom before adjusting my grip on the basket I had left and heading for my next destination: Lute's tent. Why? Well, that was where she was resting. Healer's orders, or rather, healer's compromise. They'd originally wanted Lute to stay in the infirmary with Vanessa, but Lute had refused on account of being unable to 'monk-watch'. Still wasn't going to ask about that.

"Hey there, Lute," I greeted, stepping inside Lute's tent. Carefully. After all, Lute had a myriad of books spread out all over the place, and I sincerely wondered just how she carried them all. "Ah, your blanket is falling…" I found an empty spot to set my basket down and then crouched next to her to adjust the blanket around her shoulders. I was glad she could sit up today, though when she looked over at me with a distinct pout, I noticed she was very wan. She didn't even have her hair in pigtails today, like she preferred. "I'm guessing you still feel bad."

"It is completely illogical and absurd that I am still weakened from assisting the healers," she grumbled, clutching the blanket while I unpacked the baskett: some covered soup for her. She'd actually thrown up heavier foods yesterday, a 'not uncommon' side effect or so Moulder had claimed, so like Vanessa (and whichever healer was tending to her that day), she got specially prepared meals. "Artur is perfectly hale and healthy."

"He's been sleeping more. In fact, he's sleeping in right now." But she had a point. Needing more sleep than typical appeared to be the only side effect Artur still suffered from. "Perhaps you gave more magic than him?"

"Mmm… I suppose that is probable. I am, after all, a master mage." Let it never be said that Lute didn't have confidence. "It occurs to me that stamina might also be a factor."

"True." I brushed her hair out of her face and helped settle the bowl of soup on her lap. "For now, you should eat. Do you need help?" Last night, her hands had trembled too much for her to safely eat.

"I believe I shall be fine." She still hesitated before taking the spoon from me. Thankfully, her hands didn't shake. "Yes, I shall be fine. I will call for assistance if that changes."

"Okay."

I adjusted her blanket one more time before picking up my basket and leaving her tent to head back to the cooking area. While doing so, I happened to pass by the early morning practice that Eirika, Ross, and Franz endured. Barely endured, truthfully, given that Garcia, Seth, and Gilliam were working together to train the three of them this morning. Seth had tried to bring me into it as well and, though I knew I needed more practice, I'd pointed out that the food wasn't going to cook itself and took longer than it had before due to the special meals. I was sure it would only lead to an even more hellish training session later, but that was a problem for future-me. Present-me still had work to do… which apparently included stopping Colm from stealing some of the cooling apples while Neimi was busy making sure the blackberry sauce didn't boil over.

"Nope!" I scolded, batting his hand away. He made a face at me, and grumbled when I shooed him away. "Sneaky thieves who steal food get their food last! On with you! Maybe get some training with the others."

"Like I'm willing to endure torture!" Colm immediately refused, shuddering at the thought. He glanced at Neimi, who was still completely focused and not paying the slightest attention to anything besides the pot on the fire, and sighed. "Fine, fine. I'll go make sure none of Gilliam's traps were set off."

"Have fun with that." I still didn't really know where said traps were. Or what they were. "Food should be done by the time you get back." I set down the baskets and leaned over Neimi's shoulder to check the sauce myself. "Smells good… should we throw in some of that mint we found yesterday? It's going to wilt if we don't use it soon."

"Hmm… yes, I think that'll be good…" Neimi murmured, stirring the sauce carefully. She then blinked a couple of times and looked around. "Oh, I thought I heard Colm?"

"He tried to steal some apples," I explained, rummaging through our 'ingredients box' for the sprigs of mint. Producing the last little bit, already a little dry around the edges, I sat next to her and tore the mint to add it in. Sure, I could chop them, but I didn't feel like washing a knife for this. And we'd have to, given that we used them earlier. "I shooed him away."

"If he'd just asked, I would've given him one. The silly." Neimi bit back a laugh and shook her head. I didn't bother quieting mine. "Okay, so we need to give this time to simmer…"

Neimi and I continued cooking, chatting all the while, and eventually, the delicious smells encouraged even the three trainers that it was a good point to stop. However, I didn't stick around to tease any of them. No, while Eirika, Franz, and Ross limped off to clean up and Gilliam, Garcia, and Seth helped set out the plates and utensils for the meal, I made one more delivery: Natasha. She had specifically requested it as she'd taken up the unenviable job of cataloguing our inventory, and didn't want to stop her work until it was done. How did she end up with the job? Supposedly, it started from her wanting to check our inventory on food-stuff and medicines to make a foraging list and discovered we hadn't yet added everything we got at Serafew to our lists.

So, I quickly made up a plate for her and darted off to the meadow that stretched out behind the infirmary, since that's where she said she'd set up. As I approached, though, I heard a soft voice singing-humming a song I knew well, and when I actually got there, I saw why. Joshua had apparently decided to help Natasha and he did the same thing Monica and I did, hum while he worked.

"Oh, Emma, thank you…" Natasha greeted, smiling softly at me from her seat on the grass. I smiled back and carefully picked my way around the various odds and ends being counted. I could only hope they were all scattered to make counting and identification easier and that we weren't actually this messy. "It smells wonderful…" Her smile grew when I grandly handed the plate to her. "Though, if I'd known Joshua would be helping me, I would've asked for you to bring him some as well."

"I can always come back," I pointed out, glancing over to where he was sitting beside Natasha. I had to admit to being surprised he was there, since I hadn't seen him all morning, but he didn't so much as glance at me. Instead, he appeared engrossed in counting whatever he was counting. Thought it might be some balms or something. "Though, we could just let his stomach grumble instead."

"Emma!"

"Is that how you're trying to avoid singing along, petal?" Joshua asked dryly, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket and jotting some number down. He then passed it over to Natasha before grinning up at me. "Your foot is tapping." ...Damn it, he was right. I hadn't even noticed.

"It was meant to be a joke, but maybe it won't be now," I 'threatened' without any heat. I could be mad, but… honestly, no, I couldn't. The songs brought back memories that pierced and shredded my heart, but at the same time, it was just… Mom had always sung while she worked. Monica and I had picked up the habit. So, I couldn't help but soften. Because I was reminded of the family I loved so, so much. "Mmm… no, helping Natasha with this daunting task outweighs it, I suppose. How did you even end up back here?"

"Started with me wanting to get Artur some medicine for the headache he had last night. Then I saw the mess." It took me a second to remember that he shared a tent with Artur. "Felt wrong to walk away when I had nothing else to do." That made sense. It certainly was a mess. Weapons and armor and other various supplies were scattered all over the place in groups that I hoped made it an 'organized mess'. The more I looked, the less I believed it. "Something wrong, priestess?" Almost asked what he meant, but then I caught Natasha's slight frown. "Lower than you want?"

"Mm… yes," Natasha admitted slowly. She traced the number Joshua had written, as if that would somehow change it. "We're completely out of vulneraries, and while this balm here can be a good substitute, the numbers are too low for them to be a reliable alternative. We don't know what we will encounter in the coming days…"

"From my understanding, we have to stick around for at least a few more days, right?" Joshua asked. He waited for Natasha to nod before continuing. "Should be time to make some medicines. How low are we on the herbs you'll need?"

"Let's see…" Natasha picked up a different sheet of paper that had been tucked behind her and skimmed over it. "There's a few we don't have, but I think… I think most of them can be safely replaced with local plants."

"If that's the case, then how about I go hunting for them?" I suggested. After all, it wasn't as if I had anything planned once everyone was done eating. ...Save whatever training Seth plotted, but this was a very justifiable reason to prolong the inevitable. "You and Joshua are no doubt going to be tied up with inventory for a while longer and I do have some knowledge of plants."

"That would be very helpful," Natasha murmured. After a moment, she smiled and freaking wow it was pretty. Definitely the largest smile I'd seen her wear, and it lit up her whole face. Couldn't blame Joshua for staring, mostly because I couldn't help but stare too. "I'll make a short list with some descriptions. Can you fetch a plate for Joshua in the meantime?"

"You got it!"

Seth did try to stop me. After all, I was in need of quite a bit of training. However, I had already promised, and we sorely needed the herbs. Plus, it wasn't as if I had to go far (meaning no one insisted I carry a weapon, even my fan, on me). Honestly, I'd probably be back within a couple of hours, at most, and then I'd have to deal with the inevitable training session from all the hells and back. ...I may have made sure to walk slowly just to delay a little further. Maybe. Possibly. Because I was a mature person. Not.

"Okay, so the last of these should be by the river here…" I murmured to myself, looking over the list. Natasha had helpfully added where the herbs were most likely located, which was great because wandering around lost in the woods wasn't all that great even when you weren't in dangerous territory. "Let's see… aha!" To make matters better, there was a copious amount of the herb in question right by the shore. "Okay, so… how much do I need to pick?" I mentally debated for a moment before shrugging. "I guess however much I can fit in the twine like the others?" Since I was bundling everything to keep them separate. That was why I could get away with only one basket. Even if it was almost filled to the top by now. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Nodding to myself, I crept over to the shoreline and carefully gathered up the herbs. I didn't want to pick any that were wilting or drying, nor did I want any too 'young'. I also wanted to avoid any that were sopping wet, to reduce the chances of them rotting. We needed these to last a while...

At last, however, I gathered enough that I could barely wrap the twine around it and I laid them on top with a triumphant smile. Sure, it was silly to feel accomplished just for picking plants, but there was still something nice about it. It was almost enough to make me hum a little ditty, though I held myself back. Instead, I pushed myself up and went over the list again, mentally checking off each one. Then I tucked the list into the basket with the herbs and made to turn back towards camp. However, as I did, I happened to catch sight of some beautiful water lilies growing along the opposite shore. While they hadn't been the first flowers I'd seen, they were the prettiest, and the pale colors would be easy on the eyes, even in the infirmary. A little cheer, a little color… and, well, there was still a little room in the basket. So, after debating it for a moment longer, I set the basket down on the roots of a nearby tree, tugged off my boots to set them nearby, and slowly waded into the water.

It was cold. Not bone-chilling cold, but cold enough to make goosebumps break out on my legs. Fallen leaves and twigs bumped into my shins before spiraling away on the current. The moss-covered rocks tickled my feet and, unbidden, the memory of Monica shrieking at the feeling came to mind. While it had never bothered me, Monica had declared the feeling as 'slimy' and she always hated wading into the river by Rosewatch because of it. Me? I'd jump from rock to rock, laughing and teasing without a care in the world. Orson, when he was there, would hover worriedly on the shore, so certain that I'd slip and fall and hurt myself. As if a few bruises were a thing to worry about…

Though, so lost was I in the memory that I didn't pay much attention to the present and, what do you know, I slipped. And slipped again when I tried to push myself up. Groaning, I tried again, rolling to my feet… in theory. Instead, however, I ended up in an unexpectedly deep area… where the river narrowed quickly. Meaning the current, already brisk, became even stronger. Where I had no footing at all…!

Desperately, I tried to grab anything I could reach as the current carried me off. Anything that could slow me down and let me pull myself to the shore. No luck. The rocks were too slippery, and what plants I snagged either snapped or uprooted. All while the current grew faster and the water grew colder. Until it was all I could do keep my head above the water. And then, even that wasn't enough and I went under.

Immediately, I panicked. How could I not? Everything was murky and no matter how much I scrambled, how much I flailed, I couldn't get a grip on anything. Just water and more water, growing colder by the second. Water pressed against my eyes, making them sting. It filled and pressed against my ears until I could hear nothing but the blood rushing through. My chest was in utter agony, but I couldn't breathe. I was underwater. I couldn't breathe. I even held my throat in a desperate attempt to not breathe. Because if I breathed, I'd die. Which… wasn't that much of a problem, truthfully. Yes, I had my promise to Grandpapa James, but what happened, happened. I knew that. Promises meant nothing to Death and, really, I didn't care. But I supposed my body instinctively tried to keep itself moving, even when my mind was apathetic to the whole thing. There was something about that. Not sure what. But it was something. Even more incredible was how my legs kept kicking even once they no longer felt attached to me. No longer felt like my own...

But they were. They were and, somehow, they managed to kick against something hard enough to propel me up. Hard enough for me to break the surface long enough for another gulp of air. The water pulled me under again, but it wasn't as strong. The river had widened again. So, I was able to surface once more and, even better, catch a large rock to keep myself from being dragged further downstream. And, somehow, I still had the strength to haul myself out of the water and onto the rock itself before I collapsed on my side, coughing and sputtering as my lungs greedily took in as much air as their could. My eyes burned. My ears popped. And, very slowly, I noticed other things. My fingers and palms were raw and bleeding, more scrapes than skin. My muscles ached almost as much as they did after a training session with Seth. Bruises and scratches littered my skin, in between the silt and debris that stubbornly clung. My clothes were ruined by the mud and water. My hair was a tangle of knots held together with mud and decorated by twings.

But I was alive. Somehow or another, I'd survived.

Once I was reasonably certain I could breathe and that everything was attached as it should me, I tried to push myself up. I didn't make it far. My limbs might be attached, but that didn't mean they weren't screaming. My whole body throbbed in time with my rapid pulse. I barely had the strength to move. But move I did, one shaking crawl at a time, careful to keep as far out of the water as I could. Thankfully, there were just enough rocks for me to make it to shore. The mud squelched under my hands and knees, but I didn't care. It wasn't like I wasn't a mess anyway.

"Yet another thing I need to somehow hide from Orson," I wheezed, carefully moving my weight back so that I could sit. I gave up halfway through, but I got my legs tucked underneath me reasonably enough. "He'd never let me hear the end of it. Not after Mom..." Mom had drowned. Had her last moments been like that? She'd taken a head injury at some point; we'd known from the blood caked on her forehead. Had it knocked her out? Or had she'd been aware the whole time, like I had, with no lucky kick to help her… "Charms…" Desperate to get my mind away from such morbid thoughts, I immediately checked my charm bracelet. Making sure that all the charms were there, that each of the ones Grandpapa James meticulously and lovingly carved just for me hadn't been lost. To my relief, all were there. Wet, filthy, but there. All of them. "Okay… so…"

Something rustled in the nearby bushes, followed by the sounds of twigs snapping. Knowing that I had no energy to move, I closed my eyes and barely bit back a groan because that would be my luck, wouldn't it? Survived getting eaten by a river, only to be eaten by a wild animal. A wild wyvern as it turned out to be, one with scales so pale of a gray that one could almost think them white. Her claws and teeth were similarly pale, just a shade or two darker to show where they started. The only color at all on it were the eyes, a molten blue broken up by the black, slit pupils. Eyes that were very focused on me, so focused that I felt like it was staring right through me.

Then, to my surprise, it crooned. Crooned, made some sort of sound that almost (but quite) sounded like a cat's purr, and then lumbered over to me to envelop me in its large wings in what seemed like... a hug. But why would a wyvern...? Actually, maybe I did hit my head or something. Maybe I was hallucinating some weird shit. I'd been without air for a significant time. It would make sense...

"Gods of the sky and wind, what is with you lately?" The exasperated growl heralded the arrival of another, a man wearing crimson armor. That told me 'Gradoan', and the insignia of the Scarlet Claws emblazoned on his gauntlet only confirmed that. "It's not like you to be so..." The man trailed off when he saw me, blinking slowly. I stared back, hoping and praying he didn't know me, recognize me. That he'd mistake me for some stupid mercenary. Because I didn't have to look at the gold edging on his armor or the sun set underneath the insignia to know... "You..." His eyes widened. Unfortunately just as I knew him, he knew me. Gods... damn it all. "You're Princess Eirika's lady-in-waiting."

Of all the people who had to find me, why did it have to be General Glen?

Much as I would've loved for some bit of convenience allowing me to escape, there was no such thing. General Glen had me bundled up (literally, in a surprisingly warm towel) and back to his camp within the hour, technically as a prisoner. I said 'technically' because I wasn't exactly bound. There was talk, of course, between General Glen and one of the soldiers traveling with him. But the pale wyvern growled and snapped when someone got close with ropes and so, I was just… watched. Not allowed to leave. At least they let me wash and change my clothes. Hell, they even let me change my underwear.

"So, I take it the rumors of Princess Eirika traveling into Grado are true, then," General Glen noted some time later. He and I were sitting by the campfire, his wyvern and the pale one curled up around us. I had no idea where his soldiers were. Scouting? Blocking potential escape routes? No clue. "Strange, as she always seemed the less reckless of the two."

"She's the stubborn one," I 'answered', brushing my hair. Or, to be more accurate, 'using a brush to rip the tangles apart'. I was in no mood to be gentle and seriously considered just hacking it all off. Honestly, I only didn't because brushing gave me something to do. "But why would you think that, exactly?"

"There's no need to attempt coyness. You are rarely far from her side."

"Seems Grado's information is lacking. I left her service five, six months ago." I frowned when I encountered a particularly bad matt, as no amount of rough brushes were going to get it out. No, I had to do a little bit at a time. Freaking annoying… this was much more enjoyable when I dealt with someone else's hair. My scalp burned. "So, I've been very far from her side."

"Surely you can come up with a better lie."

"Surely you know that I'm allergic to lies." Not at all, and I had no qualms lying to acquaintances. Just people I cared about. But he'd know me primarily as Eirika's too-honest lady-in-waiting, the daughter of King Fado's own too-honest knight. Might as well take advantage of that. "Besides, I'm dressed too simply for court."

"Not for traveling." He tried to study me. I knew he did, saw his eyes narrow out of the corner of my eye. But I pretended all my focus was on getting my hair in some reasonable order. "I suppose I'll play along. What are you doing here?"

"Obviously, getting eaten and spit out by the river." I sighed gustily, not even having to feign annoyance. "And before you ask, I fell in."

"Then the next question is what you were doing being eaten by a Gradoan river instead of being somewhere in Renais."

"It's called 'trying to not get raped and skewered by Gradoan knights and bandits'." I made sure to keep as sarcastic and dry as possible. With luck, my penchant for honesty would keep him away from the others. "I was in my humble abode when I met this absolute gentleman named 'Valter'." General Glen immediately winced. I barely caught it, but I did. "Thankfully, I was spared whatever fate he had planned. He killed Grandpapa James, though." Not necessarily in that order, but better to let him put the pieces that way.

"...I see." He fell silent, and I nearly breathed a sigh of relief. If I'd known Valter would shut him up, I would've brought him up sooner. Even if the memory made my skin crawl…

The white-grey… whatever color wyvern crooned and not-purred then, and nuzzled my cheek. Like she could sense how uncomfortable I was… "So, since I don't have the answers you seek, why is this one curled up around me like a mama-cat?"

"Hmm?" He glanced at the wyvern and, after a second, he smiled very slightly, like he was hiding amusement. "It seems she's chosen you as her rider."

"Ah." It took a looooong second for me to comprehend what he said. "Wait, what?"

"Did it not come up in Princess Eirika's numerous questions?" General Glen seemed genuinely confused, and I had neither the heart nor presence of mind to inform him that I had paid far more attention to the surrounding area than on her interrogating him on Grado's culture. "I know not how the pegasus knights of Frelia obtain their mounts, but wyverns choose their riders. We believe they have the ability to peer into a person's heart and measure their spirit." Okay, now how did that belief come about? "As such, they judge potential riders and decide who they will bond with. All those in the Scarlet Claws are chosen as such, though that doesn't necessarily mean they get along at first." No longer truly to hide his amusement, his smile fully cracked through the stoic mask. "Cormag's Genarog took three years to warm up to him. I supposed he was frustrated that he could see who Cormag could become, but Cormag wasn't getting there fast enough for him."

"I… okay?" Cormag… yes, I knew the name. While General Glen led the Scarlet Claws, Grand Marshal Cormag was his second in command, the two brothers being famous even in Renais for their tactical and battle prowess. "Are you telling me that she saw me drowning and went 'that one. I want her.'?"

"In truth, she had been flying in this direction for some time, so I would guess she caught sight of you much earlier and has been tracking you."

"Wyverns can track?"

"As I said, wyverns can see the soul. With those they are particularly close to, such as siblings or their riders, they can sense them as well. Or, at least, that's what our stories say." He looked back at his own wyvern, who crooned and licked his cheek. "We do know that wyverns have a remarkable and uncanny ability to find their riders when separated, and wyverns born from the same clutch are able to sense each other across great distances. Similarly, wyverns who had been close since they were young can also sense one another. That was how I kept up with her. She's known Itroph all her life, and he can find her easily."

"Right…" That was… if any of this was true, I was glad I'd gotten separated from the others now. He'd clearly been following this one, meaning that if what he said was (somehow) true, I could've led a Grado General right to Princess Eirika. "So, how long has this been going on?"

"She flew from Serafew a few days ago, around the time we had an… incident with a traitor." Incident…? Oh, wait, Natasha? So, the same day we were… "I sent most of my soldiers back to the capitol and chased after her. We're not in a habit of letting wyverns fly about wherever they wish, and I've known this one since she was small." He smiled up at the white wyvern, who not-purred and wrapped herself more firmly around me. "She is the clutch-sister of Genarog and Evaicrag. The only three to survive out of that year, thanks to the earthquakes."

"Okay, Genarog, you've mentioned. But who the hell is Evaicrag?" This was just… bizarre. Was I having one weird last dream before drowning or something? ...No, my ass hurt from sitting on the ground for so long. So, not a dream…

"Valter's." Oh, well, that was great. "Of course, the Evaicrag chose Valter before he became as he is." General Glen made a face, like he'd bitten into a particularly sour lemon. "Not that he was ever a gentle lamb before, of course."

"Considering my lone encounter with him, I'm going to just assume Evaicrag took a blow to the head or something." I looked up at the white wyvern, who crooned and licked my cheek. "What's her name?"

"Riders name their wyverns. So, whatever you choose." Oh. Great. I couldn't even give a kitten a proper name, much less a wyvern. Assuming that this was all… freaking hell, what was with my day today? "As for Evaicrag, I imagine he stays out of loyalty."

"I think if you stay loyal to a monster, then I think something is a little wrong with your head." ...I'd meant that in a general sense, but considering who I was talking to, I supposed the word came out more pointed than expected. And that sudden realization led to me continuing to talk when I really should've shut up. "If you swear loyalty to someone, and they start doing stupid things, immoral and hateful things, then you need to tell them. Or knock them in the head."

"...Not everyone has the luxury of speaking to those they are loyal to, much less do so with such honesty." He frowned at me, but I didn't get the sense of disapproval. More thoughtful, studying. "In fact, for most, such a thing could be dangerous. Particularly when the object of said loyalty is their ruler." Yeah, I kind of figured we'd switch to that, given everything. "After all, they are apart from the common soldier. They live in a different sort of world, focus on different things. As such, would not the truest show of loyalty be trust?"

"Mmm…" My instinct was to snap, truthfully. That sort of thing… it didn't feel like trust. It didn't feel like loyalty. It just felt like blind obedience, a way to escape reality so that you didn't have to think. But he said the words slowly and quietly, with thought, so I bit back that instinct. Instead, I did my best… to put the same sort of thought into my reply. "They don't live in a different world."

"Hmm?"

"The royals. They don't live in a different world. They live in the same messed up world as the rest of us. Sure, Princess Eirika thinks of different things than me, focuses on different goals, but so did my sister. As I'm sure your brother thinks differently from you." But, I supposed he had a point. Most would not know that. Most would see them as distant figures, whereas I… "You know… my dad was one of King Fado's personal knights."

"Sir Alex, yes? The Knight of the Sun, first of King Fado's personal knights and one of the few Renaisi knights to not come from a noble background."

"Huh. Maybe Grado's information network is better than I thought. Most tend to forget Dad wasn't nobly born." No, Dad had grown up on the streets. A chance encounter led to him protecting King Fado, and later becoming his knight. "But yes, that's my dad. The glorious and honest Knight of the Sun who was completely and utterly loyal to his king." That was why Dad protected him, even though it cost him his life. "He also had no qualms ensuring his king conveniently had stomach trouble if that was what it took to keep him from doing something stupid, like recklessly charging into something."

"He… he what?" General Glen's jaw went slack and his eyes went wide. Not surprising. You could probably count the number of knights who were simultaneously loyal to a fault and willing to (mildly) poison their own lord on one hand. Hell, maybe even one finger.

"He'd tease King Fado, be terribly sarcastic, bring up old shames… yet there was never a doubt in anyone's mind that he was loyal. He was always at King Fado's side, until he died." I thought of the vague memories I had, and smiled at them. My bright and strong dad… oh, how I missed him. How I wished I had more time with him. But Death was unpredictable, and you just had to keep on going. "As for my mom… well, she's Jehannan. Jehannan royals are expected to know the people fairly well. After all, the ruler of Jehanna is also the master of the mercenary guild. So, while they are loyal to their beloved royals, there tends to be more of a casual air to it." In fact, Jehanna didn't have the various ranks of 'duke' or 'baron'. If you were a Jehannan noble, then you were either a lord/lady, or a royal. "Not only that, though, her best friend and mercenary partner is… was… Queen Ismaire."

"The current ruler of Jehanna, in place of her missing son." General Glen… slowly went back to his stoic expression. "I suppose she was particularly casual with her."

"Of course, and she delighted in telling Monica and me stories. Like the number of times she caught Queen Ismaire and King Raphael kissing in an alcove or all the ways he cheerfully courted Queen Ismaire." Which, apparently, included him sneaking into her room at the Guild Headquarters on multiple occasions to leave flowers and trinkets with her things. "That's what I grew up with. You say the royals live in a different sort of world, but that's just… wrong. The idea of royalty being unapproachable objects of worship is wrong. They're just… people. People capable of being silly, of being aggravating, of being wrong. People who would need help and support. Sometimes, that meant being the shoulder they cry on, or the pillar of reassurance they lean against. Other times, it means pointing out just how dumb they're being. Because that's what you do for people you care for."

"That so?"

"Yeah. At least, that's how I was raised." I thought about looking away, not even sure what I was saying anymore. But, I kept eye contact because… because this was what I believed. "You mentioned trust. Trust should go both ways though, right? Should they not trust you as well?" I supposed that was the rub. What he had described before seemed so… one-sided. "It would be silly, of course, to expect them to blab everything under the sun. Yet with things so radically different…" Ugh, I was really losing my thought path here. "If the person you're loyal to starts giving orders so radically different, so contrary to the normal, then should they not at least give an explanation to those closest to them? Though, I suppose that's where propaganda and lies comes into play…" Yep, definitely lost the thread. Already embarrassing, but it turned to outright mortification when General Glen started chuckling. "You could at least be polite and pretend I made sense."

"You did. At least, you did enough. Enough for me to see where we differ." It took him a second to stop laughing at me, but his eyes were still crinkled at the corners, a slight hint of good humor that belied his otherwise stoic expression. "Yours is a loyalty born from camaraderie and bonds. You do not see yourself as a servant to them or a follower; you walk their path beside them. Whereas mine is a loyalty born from admiration and wonder, a desire to follow and see their ideals realized. I walk the path either in front or behind, to break down barriers or to slay those who would stop them." He looked up at the white wyvern, who crooned at him, but wrapped her wings a little more firmly around me. "I can see why yours would appeal to her. She has never been one to bow her head in submission."

Silence fell. I had no idea how to break it, and he didn't seem inclined to speak. After a long moment, General Glen pushed himself up and stepped around his wyvern (Itroph, was it?) to grab his saddle. Rapidly, I tried to think of ways to potentially escape, since if he was grabbing his saddle, it no doubt meant that he'd planned to leave and either a) take me with him or b) leave me with his subordinates who hopefully wouldn't watch me as closely. Of course, all such thoughts scattered when he didn't actually saddle his wyvern. Instead… instead he saddled the white one.

"...What are you doing?" I asked slowly. This had to be a trap. Had to be. "Checking her size or something?"

"No, I already know Itroph's things can fit her," he replied almost absently. I noticed he had to use a notch that was lower than the one the wear and tear on the belt/buckle hinted Itroph used and I looked between the white wyvern and Itroph. It soon became obvious that she was larger, bulkier, than him. "I'm letting you go."

"Why?" I narrowed my eyes. "Do you intend on following and see if I was lying?"

"No." He tightened the saddle on the wyvern, checking that it was secure, before dumping his saddlebags and attaching them to the saddle. "...I wish to hear her name." He finished with that task and looked at me. "I do not believe I will hear it if I take you to the capitol."

"...Well, far be it for me to refuse." I definitely needed to figure out a convoluted way to return to the others, though. Just in case. "Even if I don't understand why."

Nothing more was said. He finished up and stepped away and I… I got to my feet and just… walked into the woods. Slowly and carefully, of course. I was certain this had to be some sort of trick. But he did nothing to stop me. He didn't even watch me leave. He truly did just… let me go, with the white wyvern following me closely. I didn't stop until I was certain we were out of sight of the camp, and then I looked around for any signs of someone else. A quiet 'snap' of a branch jerked my attention up, but I relaxed when I saw Joshua casually sitting up in a tree right above me.

"How long have you been around?" I asked with a little smile. The white wyvern… my wyvern… growled in warning, but calmed down when I reached up to pet her nose. "Please at least tell me it was after the river spat me out."

"Yeah, I followed the river down to where it looks like you dragged yourself out, based on the tracks in the mud, and then followed the tracks to the camp," Joshua confirmed, jumping down from the tree. When he landed, he adjusted his hat and sighed. "How did you fall in? Based on the basket and boots left on the shore, it looks like you waded."

"Then slipped. Moss can be slippery." Or… actually, was it algae? I couldn't remember. "So, how long?"

"Just long enough to hear that conversation on loyalty." Joshua shrugged when I made a face. "I would argue that there's a reason why the tactic 'fool your allies to fool your enemies' exists. At the same time, however, even if you walk in front or behind a person, you can still trip or block them if something doesn't seem right."

"Which you say to avoid actually giving your own opinion on the subject." I frowned at him and, surprisingly and amusingly, the white wyvern almost seemed to scowl. "So, I simply must be nosy and ask."

"...I think it is something people give too easily, and hold onto too long. Something people give based on bloodlines or single actions instead of something being truly earned." He winked and grinned at me, as if the words were a joke. I… had a feeling he wasn't, though? Maybe it was because I remembered how Mom would use jokes to hide how serious she truly was. Or to hide how uncomfortable she was. "Anyway, our newest addition to this ragtag bunch of misfits makes us stand out, but I think I know a few paths that'll throw off any pursuers." Assuming that sensing thing didn't… you know what? I wasn't even going to think on it. "Emma?"

"Sorry, still a little weirded out by everything." Trying to figure out how my day got like this was a headache.

"Yeah, almost drowning, getting captured by an enemy general, and then ending up with a wyvern is not a typical scenario." His grin grew until it resembled the cat that caught the canary and charmed its way into a bowl of cream. "Still don't believe in Jehannan luck?"

"I at least call bullshit on Grado's saying." I sighed, shaking my head. I was never going to hear the end of this, was I? "Let's just get back to the others. Please tell me you didn't tell Princess Eirika or Seth that I likely fell in the river."

"Sorry, petal, but Seth was with me when we found your boots and basket." He patted me on the head; I just groaned. "Yep, time to face the song. The sooner, the better."

"Uuuuuuugh…"

Joshua laughed at my impending doom, and slung an arm around my shoulder to lead me through the woods. The white wyvern… my wyvern… followed us with a curious little croon, not looking back once. I knew because… well, because I did. Just a glance over my shoulder, wondering what the hell. Sure, he gave me a 'reason', but there was something hidden in it. I knew there had to be. What was it? What?

Argh... this was going to aggravate me.

After age, and a few too many close calls, calmed Seth's temper, it became very hard to rile him. Years of having to deal with my crazy family (and growing up with stories from both his dad's mercenary past and Mom's) forged his poise into something unyielding, stable and even through any sort of craziness. Once the hotbloodedness cooled, it left behind nerves of steel that one might argue the God of Smithing himself had forged (and, in fact, some bards used that exact phrase in their songs of Seth's later years). It was very hard to make him lose his cool. With all that said, even he had limits and what I went through today not only hit them, but past them.

"Honey cake?" I offered, holding up a small plate to him once he finally finished ranting and rambling at how life defied logic. It was a couple of hours, at least, since I reunited with the others and dealt with all of them being glad that I was alive, wondering where the wyvern came from, and freaking out over what all happened. While they struggled to make sense of everything, I took advantage of their distraction to quickly fix up Jehannan honey cakes, knowing Seth would want them. "There's water too. Your throat has to be dry by now."

"Orson is going to kill me," Seth grumbled, swiping one cake from the plate and tossing it into his mouth. Unlike Renaisi, Jehannah honey cakes were made to be bite-sized, something to eat while you waited for battle or tended to your weapons. Still, it had been a few years since I had seen Seth be so casual about eating them. He normally made sure to make them last two or three bites to better savor the flavor. "He is absolutely going to kill me."

"It's not your fault my life decided to be weird." I set the plate down on the ground between us and nibbled on one of the cakes myself. The sounds of camp drifted through Seth's closed tent-flap; he'd hidden in his tent to rant and flail and I'd followed specifically because he always wanted honey cakes when life was weird. "Hey, how's your arm doing?"

"That isn't a subtle way to change the subject." He took a couple of deep breaths to calm down before sitting on the ground in front of me and taking another honey cake. This time, it lasted three bites. "Moulder continues to treat it. It is neither better nor worse since you last saw it."

"Really now?" I frowned at him, even as I passed him the glass of water I'd secured for him earlier. "And Moulder would corroborate this? I remember how you used to downplay injuries to avoid lectures from Monica." Which never worked, of course. Mostly because Orson would give him away in half of a second to keep his best friend from bleeding out.

"I would show you, but I fear the lecture Moulder would give me for removing the bandage." Still, he held out his bandaged arm to me so that I could at least study the bandage itself. "But yes, he would confirm it. I had it checked while you were breaking the laws of reality."

"Was it me who broke them or life itself?" I mean… the only thing I technically did that was under my control was wade into the river. Which he knew, so I also knew he wasn't all that angry really. Just exasperated with life. "So, how are we incorporating the wyvern into our next battles?" I shrugged when Seth frowned slightly at me. "Look, even I know that we'd be fools to not take a second flier. The problem is that I can barely fight on my own two feet. I have no experience at all with mounted fighting, much less flying."

"You've made remarkable strides recently. I would put you around where a new knight would be." So, about where Franz was before hell erupted? That would be impressive, and far more knowledge than I ever expected to have. "Ross has also improved dramatically recently. But that's neither here nor there, truthfully." Seth closed his eyes while he thought, and munched on yet another honey cake. "But, you are right. Having a second flier will be more of a boon than a bane, particularly since Vanessa will have a long recovery, even after the healers let her resume normal activities."

"I suppose we could just have her fly around and be a 'free'..." I trailed off when Seth shook his head. "Bad idea?"

"Grado's wyverns are trained to fight on their own, yes, but they're also trained to work in tandem with their rider. And, perhaps more importantly, only their rider is capable of giving them orders. It's more of a partnership than, say, a knight and his horse. At least, that is my understanding." Seth sighed, and shook his head. "I suppose for flying, Vanessa can help you. Surely some of her training can be adapted for wyverns."

"One can only hope." Noticing there was only one more honey cake left, I split it in half and handed Seth one. He smiled a little at that, no doubt remembering how he and Orson would do this all the time back when they were training. It was practically a tradition for them, truthfully. "You know... compared to General Glen's Itroph... think that was the name of his wyvern, at least. Anyway, she looked bigger, bulkier, than him. Certainly, she's got more strength than Vanessa's Titania."

"That could be utilized..." He made to cross his arms, but stopped when I frowned. I'd rather he not put any sort of pressure or anything on that wound on his arm. "How are you with bows again?"

"Uh... I can not kill myself while shooting one?" ...Wait. "Seth, are you suggesting I use a bow? On a flier? The ones that are infamous for being very weak to arrows?"

"It's just a thought, for now. I'd need to discuss it with Garcia and Gilliam first."

"...Things like this remind me why you were an absolutely hellion when you were younger." Because he'd get an idea and somehow convince others it was plausible and it would work despite all reason dictating otherwise. "I suppose it would change my-"

"No, you'd just have additional. Bows are not suited for close combat, so you'd want a lance when fighting on foot. We should also add in daggers again to your repertoire, though it won't be much different than the fan." He smiled serenely and I just groaned. More lessons? Seriously? Seriously? "Of course, we'd have to work this around your flying lessons, since you'll need quite a bit of practice with that."

"Seth, are you getting revenge or something?"

"Of course not."

"Liar."

I might've continued needling him, if only for my own little 'revenge', but that… well, that didn't happen. A quiet, yet distinct, growl was the only warning we got before a series of yelps hinted that something had happened. Seth and I immediately left his tent, wondering what the hell. And we continued to wonder what the hell while taking in everything and... trying to thread everything together.

One) it looked like Neimi and Artur had been hanging laundry to dry while I talked with Seth, though now the two were yelping and frantically asking 'are you okay?'. Two) This was because, somehow, Ross had ended up upside down in the basket of wet laundry (as in, he looked like he was doing a handstand). Three) Franz was trying to help Ross extricate himself from the laundry (without dumping the clothes into the mud). Four) Colm could've been helping, but he was too busy laughing himself to death on the ground at Lute's feet. Five) Lute herself was frantically taking notes with bright, sparkling eyes, as if she had witnessed something amazing. Six) Joshua was stroking the wyvern's neck as if to soothe her, while Natasha appeared completely oblivious because she had entirely focused on something under the wyvern's wing. Seven) Said wyvern had her wings slightly up and forward, almost like a grumpy cat would hunch itself. Eight) Eirika and Moulder stood just outside the infirmary tent, blinking slowly as they, too, tried to piece together what the hell happened.

Eventually, though, I came up with some sort of plausible theory, maybe. "So, did Ross try to tickle my wyvern?" I asked slowly. I glanced around for Garcia and Gilliam, but didn't see them. Took me a second to remember that the two were actually out patrolling and checking the traps. Just in case Joshua and I had been followed. "Or... something similar?"

"Potentially, yes?" Franz answered hesitantly, finally extracting Ross. Ross himself looked... dizzy and was breathing heavily, but he otherwise seemed... okay? Maybe? "I'm not very sure. He was studying the wyvern, poked its side a couple of times, and then..."

"Threw him into the laundry?" Sure. Why not? Given how the rest of my day had gone, why the hell not? "Get Ross to Moulder. Since Natasha is busy?" I looked back over to my wyvern, Joshua, and Natasha. Joshua was still petting her neck; Natasha was still focused on something under my wyvern's wing. "Is something wrong?"

"She thinks the growl was from pain, and is investigating," Joshua explained, shrugging. My wyvern made some sort of rumbling noise that... well, if she were human, I'd say she was 'growling curses under her breath'. That's what it reminded me of. "Dove, come over here and free up some room. Even if she aimed for a relatively soft landing, I'm sure kiddo is injured."

"...Right..." Eirika mumbled, stepping away. She waited for Franz to actually carrying Ross over to Moulder before joining Joshua by my wyvern. To both her surprise and mine, my wyvern immediately crooned and nuzzled her hair. "Er... hi?"

"She must know you're important to her rider or something." Joshua grinned and he outright laughed when Eirika gave him an incredulous look. "Something I've learned over the years, dove, is that sometimes, you just have to say 'I give up with logic' and just roll with the punches. Life isn't obligated to make sense."

"Is that why you're the only one not panicking or trying to figure out what happened?"

"Pretty much, yeah." Joshua glanced back at Natasha, who was still working. "Anything there?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm sorry," Natasha replied absently. She carefully prodded around an area, and made a soothing sound when my wyvern growled. "There, there... I'm almost done. Promise." She smiled softly at my wyvern, and my wyvern nodded in return. "I was worried she might have an abscess or something similar. Wyverns have a fast healing rate, and due to the hardness of their scales, it's very easy for objects to be stuck in a wound." She stepped back from my wyvern and walked in front of her to smile and pet her nose. "However, this doesn't seem to be that. Just a little sprain." She petted my wyvern on the nose, with a soft gaze. I wondered if she had a liking for animals. Or, at least, wyverns. "That's all."

"So, essentially, he prodded a bruise?" Artur clarified hesitantly, carefully walking over to join the rest by my wyvern. Neimi, meanwhile, was helping a still-snickering Colm up from the ground. The laundry remained in the basket, forgotten and probably in need of another scrub or two. "I can understand being aggravated by that, but why did she throw him?"

"Now that's something we'll need to dissuade her of as soon as possible. Wyverns will toss younger hatchlings when they're being particularly bothersome, so she treated Ross as she would a hatchling." Oh. Great. I had to train her to not do... oh, hell, how did one train a wyvern anyway? "Moulder, how is Ross?"

That question ended up being a signal of 'please attempt to resume normal activities'. Which didn't quite work, but we made a damn good effort to pretend otherwise. Somehow. Gods above, what was with today?

Thankfully, aside from a bit of dizziness and bruising, Ross was fine. We did end up doing a few tests to figure out why he'd been stuck for so long, only to realize that it had literally been packed; we clearly needed another basket or three for our clothes, or to just do them in shifts or something. Garcia wasn't exactly thrilled to hear about what had happened, but he thankfully let it slide. This time. ...Mostly because my wyvern happily hunted for us, without us even asking, and provided enough meat for a little feast. Particularly with the spices we'd procured from Serafew.

Come evening, though, we had another little problem. Namely... where was my wyvern supposed to sleep? We couldn't tie her up with the others; the horses were understandably wary, as was Titania. And, well, ropes didn't exactly hold her anyway. Not with the sharp fangs and sharper claws. And, of course... well, if wyverns were supposed to have anything like a bridle, General Glen didn't give it to me. She certainly had no collar or harness. And wrapping the rope around her neck directly was just asking for trouble. So, there was the serious question of 'where'. At least until she realized we were going to bed. Then she simply curled up behind the tent Eirika and I shared. I had a sneaking suspicion that if the tent had been large enough, she would've just curled up around us.

"I feel like logic decided to run away with everything else today," Eirika groaned, flopping back on her blankets. Since there was really no other way to describe the day, I simply nodded in agreement and finished changing into my night clothes. "By the way, what is her name?"

"Supposedly, I have to make up one for her," I replied, sighing. Eirika immediately tried, and failed, to bite back a laugh. "I know. Fate help her. Or, actually, you help her. Pick a name."

"Are you shoving that responsibility on me?"

"The only potential names in my head include things like 'snowy' or 'ghost'."

"You can't name her those things!" She sighed gustily, but I still heard the edge of a laugh in it. When I joined her under the blankets, I saw her smiling too. "I suppose I must spare her from such a cruel fate. Hmm... let's see..." She rolled onto her stomach, staring at the shadow of my wyvern's bulk at the back of the tent. "What about Brynhildr?"

"Sounds like it matches the grandioseness of the other wyvern names I've heard." Brynhildr... Brynhildr... I knew that I knew the name, but I couldn't remember why. "Why that one?"

"It's the name of the first lady-in-waiting." She laid her head down, making sure to turn to face me, and smiled. "Well, sort of. She was the best friend of Queen Kriemhild, the fourth queen of Renais. Though the people adored their queen for the reforms, the nobles felt that her reforms were being pushed too quickly and with too much force. Too often, they had been carried out before the nobles knew of them. They felt it was a matter of time before she brought about disaster and, thus, plotted her end. The assassination attempt almost succeeded, for the nobles had cleverly tricked the Crimson Flame Guard into mobilizing at a false threat, leaving the castle undermanned."

"But they didn't because of Brynhildr." Yes, I remembered now. "Though she was not trained, she protected her queen and friend with all she had and successfully bought enough time for the Crimson Flames to return and fend off the conspirators." Though it had still been a generation or two before Renaisi noblewomen commonly had their ladies-in-waiting (at least in the capacity they served in the present). But she had been the inspiration. "We'll see how she likes it in the morning."

"If she doesn't, I've a couple of other ideas. That was just the first I thought of." Her smile slowly faded, though, hinting that her thoughts had switched to less happy things. "Emma?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did you go wading? Did you want to splash about in the water?"

"Ah, no." Right, damn. Because of everything, I'd completely forgotten… "The water lilies were very pretty. I thought it might bring some color and cheer to the camp."

"...Why am I not surprised it was something like that?" Eirika sighed gustily before reaching over to poke my cheek. "You're not allowed go into water without someone else around."

"Is that an order?"

"I can make it one, if that's what it'll take." She frowned at me for all of a second before smiling again. "Anyway, please?"

"Can it be an order if you add 'please' to it?" I had to smile back, though. "Fine, fine. I'll do my best."

"Good. Oh, and I want to fly on her at some point."

"Let me figure out how to stay on first, and then we'll talk about letting you ride with me."

"Okay."

I wished I could say I had easy dreams after that. But no, nightmares pounced as soon as sleep dragged me under. But this time… this time, it wasn't just the children I re-killed. It wasn't the little girl I sacrificed or the spider with Vanessa's broken corpse. It was also the river pulling me below. Pulling me below alongside the corpses of a thousand souls, each one clawing at me until I tried to scream, but only felt the cold…

I missed not having nightmares. I'd forgotten what having 'normal' dreams were like.

Garcia

A former soldier of Renais, who was often counted as King Fado's personal knights despite not technically being a knight in the first place. His strength and valor was such that he remains a legendary figure even years after he retired to pour all his energy into raising his son.

He would be the first to admit that he's out of practice, retaining his strength and stamina while finding himself much slower in attacking that he used to be. However, his experience gives him an edge in combat, especially for now as they face mostly new recruits, and his willingness to train the others has helped the greener ones of their own group improve by leaps and bounds.

He finds himself a little baffled by how he's now fighting alongside the children of his greatest friends, and while he is impressed and proud, he can't help but worry and fret. He knows they're adults (most of them), yet he's afraid he'll have to see them buried. Part of it makes him want to find some way to just keep them away from the fighting, but he already knows that's a lost cause, so he just… does what he can for them.

Author's Notes: So, in terms of gameplay, Emma is now a wyvern rider and Ross is… one of his two potential promotions. This one is… quite a bit different from the original version, huh? Nothing else really to say, truthfully