Chapter 10

Day 19 of the Garland Moon, Imperial Year 1173

"Amazing!" Ingrid exclaimed as she leaned over the top rail of the fence surrounding the pegasi stables outside of the royal castle in Fhirdiad. "I've seen a few back home, but not nearly this many. Nor do they look so strong and healthy!"

When Ingrid came dangerously close to toppling over, Glenn grabbed her by the waist to steady her.

"Easy there!" he advised. "I can't have my betrothed getting trampled by pegasi for the sake of a view a few inches closer."

"Sorry about that, Glenn…" Ingrid chuckled while blushing.

The pair were accompanied by Felix, Sylvain, and Prince Dimitri. Their fathers were holding a conference to discuss the ongoing strategy for relations with Sreng, and as usual, the children were free to do as they pleased. Sylvain and Glenn were charged with making sure the younger ones did not get into too much trouble. Ingrid had begged Dimitri for a chance to see the new pegasi being stabled at the castle since her last visit, and the prince was happy to oblige.

"Man… if only I could find a girl who would let me do that without slapping me," Sylvain mused.

Dimitri laughed as he watched all of this unfold. "Instead of crawling over the fence, maybe we can bring the pegasi closer to us?"

"That knight over there can help, right?" Felix suggested.

The referenced knight was passing by on some unknown chore. Dimitri waved him over. "Sir Gustave, Sir Gustave! Is it possible to bring one of the pegasi over here for a look? Maybe you could even let Ingrid sit on one?"

Gustave grimaced. "It is certainly within my ability. But it may not be wise to allow someone so young near such a mighty creature. That is, unless she has the necessary training."

Everyone looked at Ingrid, who cringed in embarrassment. Despite this setback, Dimitri insisted, "Please, Sir Gustave? You can stay here and keep watch."

Gustave released a deep breath. "If it is the prince's command, then very well. It should not be an issue so long as no attempt at flight is made, but I will still intervene if I see anything that forewarns of trouble. It is my duty to ensure your safety, and I must hold to it at all costs."

As Gustave walked away to fulfill the order, Sylvain called out, "Don't worry! If something happens, I'll make sure to toss myself over the fence and let the pegasus flatten me instead of Ingrid."

"I think that's my duty, Sylvain," Glenn dissented. He then joked, "But it's a good thing that Miklan isn't here, or he might throw you over anyways."

Sylvain did not appear to find the joke funny. Glenn recognized this, and while he did not directly apologize, he did try to downplay his comment. He asked more seriously, "Where is your brother, anyways? I feel like I haven't seen him in years."

"You probably haven't. My parents haven't seen any need to bring him on trips to the capital nowadays. There's not much more to say than that."

Everyone present was uncomfortable with Sylvain's explanation, but that was soon forgotten upon seeing Ingrid's excitement at Gustave's return. He was accompanied with a female knight leading a striking white pegasus.

"She's beautiful!" Ingrid cried. "You really did pick the best one, sir knights. I can ride, right?"

"Of course," Gustave said more confidently this time, having been swayed by the girl's enthusiasm. He even instructed the other knight to aid Ingrid with trotting around some, much to her delight.

"Maybe I should join the knights so I'll have free access to these stables. That way, I can let you ride them anytime you like," Glenn said with a laugh.

"Brother, please don't joke about something like that," Felix pleaded. "It would be awfully lonely without you at home."

Glenn continued to laugh, but there wasn't much mirth behind it. "Who said I was joking?"

"Personally, I think you'd be great in the role," Sylvain said. "I'm sure the girls love it, but I don't think I could pull the job off. But you've got all of the right qualities, Glenn. Really."

"Your plan has redundancies when I could just become a knight myself!" Ingrid sang. "How would I look in armor?"

Everyone provided positive responses. Though they were having a great time, it was not long before the parents returned from their meeting. The children carefully ensured Ingrid was not spotted by the adults while still on a pegasus. Gustave and the other knight thankfully did not report their behavior.

Dimitri's goodbyes as his friends departed were sorrowful, but he quickly sought out new company rather than stew in his loneliness. He ran back into the castle and bounded up the stairs to the royal quarters. His destination was the cozy solar outside of his bedchambers.

His stepmother, Lady Patricia, sat near the window as she read a book. Dimitri checked that there were no sewing utensils out on the nearby table, which was often a sign that she was not in a mood to talk. After confirming that it was safe to initiate a conversation, Dimitri moved a spare seat in front of her and provided an account of his day. He made no attempt to obscure the facts of their visit to the stables.

Patricia smiled. "I was taught how to ride pegasi while I was at the Officer's Academy. It's been a long time since then, though. Sometimes I do wish I could ride one again." Her smile then developed into something more wistful. "In the clouds… I could see so much, and no one would even recognize me."

"I can tell father. Surely he could make work something out for you."

"No, that is alright," Patricia chuckled. "It isn't safe. Even so, I am glad to know you are willing to do that. Now… I'm sure you're sad that your friends have left. Is there anything I can do to brighten your day?"

Dimitri shook his head. "It's okay. I have my friends here, too. In fact, I made a new friend just the other day! I think you would really like her! She's from the Empire, just like you."

"I… see," Patricia stumbled as she rubbed at the sleeve of her blue dress. Did she think she'd find a different color under it? "In that case… Maybe it is best that I do not hear more."

"But… why?"

"There are two kinds of memories I have of my home, Dimitri. The good, and the bad. I would rather not be reminded of the bad, and the good will only make me long for what I've lost. There's no winning, you see?"

The prince's face fell. It might have been for the best, as he wasn't supposed to talk much about the girl anyway. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I just want you to be happy."

"I know, Dimitri. I know how much you care, and you are doing a wonderful job. But… instead of relating what I am missing out on, could you just spend some time with me? It means so much that you would want to grace the presence of a solitary woman like me."

Dimitri held her hand warmly. "Yes, I will do so gladly! I would do anything for you, mother."

Indelible Bonds- Day 16 of the Harpstring Moon, 1186 (Fódlan Calendar)

Dimitri managed to sleep some during their night in Astane, but persistent nightmares eventually forced him to give up. He nursed his headache while once again sitting on the window sill. Their view faced west, so he was unable to watch the sunrise directly, but he still observed as life slowly revitalized the city.

"Bad dreams?" Khalid asked suddenly after waking.

Dimitri flinched in surprise, having completely lost track of time. "Yes, but it is not just that. I was… perhaps anxious about today."

Khalid walked up next to him and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. "Anxious? There's little worry of us running into trouble on the way. Unless… you aren't scared of heights, are you?"

"No! It's not the height itself. It's just… I'm uncertain of my flying abilities."

"You've flown before, right?" Khalid asked as he squinted.

"Not often. Wyverns were not common in Blaiddyd territory, and pegasi only tolerate female riders."

"Surely you rode a wyvern while at the academy? During sky watch, for example?"

"Only on rare occasions. Professor Hanneman preferred that I focus on building my natural strengths rather than waste days developing extraneous skills."

"That's a shame. Almyra is so immense that it's necessary to learn how to ride one to get anywhere quickly. Some people aren't cut out for it, obviously, but it sounds like you have at least some experience. That should be enough. We aren't going into battle or anything, so it's not like you need to be that proficient."

"Some experience, yes. But things are not the same as they were then." Dimitri tapped his eyepatch. A limited range of vision could present challenges.

Khalid winced. "Ah. I see your point." He paused for a second, likely on the verge of apologizing for the accidental pun, before deciding it was best to hope Dimitri hadn't noticed it. "I've known people with various disabilities who can still ride wyverns, but if you are unsure, I'll tell the others that we will take it a bit slower just to be safe. If you still don't feel comfortable up there, motion for us to land and we'll figure something else out. We can fit two people on these if we must."

Not long after, their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. Though they expected to find Farjad there to greet them, they instead found two sets of clothes and trays of food laid out at the entrance. Included was a charming host of breads, pancakes, cheeses, eggs, and olives. Dimitri carried them inside and set them down on the floor. For some reason, Khalid eyed the collection suspiciously.

"Dimitri, wait just a sec-."

Dimitri had already dug his teeth into a piece of bread before Khalid could stop him. "What is the issue?" he asked with the food still in his mouth.

"We don't know where this food came from, or whose hands have touched it."

Unfazed by the answer, Dimitri went ahead and swallowed, much to Khalid's chagrin. "Last night you told me it was utterly safe to leave Areadbhar in this room. This morning, I'm telling you it's utterly safe to consume sustenance before a long journey."

"That's not the same th-." Khalid cut himself off with a sigh. "I suppose there's no going back for you now. If you aren't choking to death in the next few minutes, I guess I'll try some."

Khalid stayed true to his word. He changed into the new attire, which was better designed for the task ahead, but stayed away from the meal. After Dimitri had nearly finished his portion, the Almyran prince finally began to nibble on some food.

Dimitri changed clothes and began to pace the room while Khalid continued to eat. Khalid had still not finished his meal when footsteps could be heard approaching from the hall. As the door had been left open after bringing the food inside, Farjad was visible through the doorframe when he arrived.

"Prince Khalid, Dimitri… I hope you are having a fine morning. I am glad to see the food and clothes arrived in time. Preparations for our departure are nearly complete, but we can wait if you are not yet finished."

Khalid dropped a half-eaten pancake onto his plate. "I've had enough. With all due respect, Farjad, why were we not notified about this meal yesterday?"

Farjad frowned. "My apologies. Khabash thought it was a good idea to make sure you were nourished before leaving, and I did not see any reason to object."

Dimitri couldn't help but smile a bit smugly at the reasonable answer, to which Khalid subtly rolled his eyes. "That was thoughtful of him, so thank you. But going forward, let's try to limit surprises. For example, it wouldn't have caused any confusion if you or Khabash delivered it to us rather than having someone drop it off."

Farjad bowed. "I will heed your guidance and inform Khabash and Satiah of your concerns. As it were, are you ready to join us on the wyvern grounds?"

Khalid collected Failnaught and his spare clothes. "I am now. Let's get moving."

Dimitri similarly grabbed Areadbhar and his previous sets of clothes and followed the others down the hall. As the hour was still early, they did not encounter too much activity on the way there. They stepped outside after a few turns into a large green space between the main citadel and the palace's outer walls. Five saddled wyverns were grazing in dewy grass, three of which were heavily laden with equipment. The wyverns stood under the watch of Khabash and a woman.

"This is Khabash's sister Satiah, as I am sure you both already deduced," Farjad explained.

"I am glad to finally meet. My brother has had much to say about you over the years, Prince Khalid," Satiah said with a bow. She was nearly as tall as Khabash and matched his black complexion. Dimitri could not decide whether her cropped hair was a matter of personal taste, a cultural custom, or intended to limit issues while flying.

"I imagine he did. Nothing new there," Khalid agreed. "I hope he told you about the time we had a polo match against the elite players of Astane, and that I was the one to score the decisive goal?"

Satiah peered at her brother from the corner of her eye. "I did hear of your legendary polo bout, yes. But I recall a different reason for your victory being emphasized."

"I never said I actually made the winning goal," Khabash contended with a nervous chuckle. "I said that I led us to it. I passed the ball to Prince Khalid, you see. But let's get to business, shall we? We have a long trip ahead of us."

Farjad crossed his arms and observed with a smile, "I've never seen you so excited to not talk about yourself, Khabash." He then returned to his usual serious disposition. "But he's right. It will be a long day. We should be off soon."

The three escorts helped load the last of the belongings before assisting Dimitri when Khalid conveyed his concerns with flying. After Dimitri mounted the saddle, Satiah explained the necessary commands he would need to use to keep the wyvern under his control. Some of the cues were familiar, while others were likely unique to Almyra.

One of Dimitri's primary fears was that the wyvern would not accept him as a rider. Wyverns were typically proud and irritable beasts that would only listen to a master it respected. Why would any Almyran wyvern respect Dimitri? He lacked both confidence and grace. The army that Dimitri led to calamity at Gronder heeded his orders, but that was only because its soldiers despised the Empire and saw their prince as their only hope for liberation. Now, he had nothing.

Thankfully, these fives wyverns were all exceedingly tame, seemingly as comfortable with humans as the many dogs and cats that had wandered about Garreg Mach. That would explain why Khalid never expressed any concerns about Dimitri's ability to control one. These wyverns had obviously undergone extensive training in a noncombat context. That was a relief on one hand, but it also meant the beasts would be difficult to replace if Dimitri somehow injured one.

Once everything was settled, the group took off in order of their planned V formation. Satiah led the way, followed by Khalid and Dimitri. Farjad and Khabash would guard the rear of the echelons. The arrangement worked well with Dimitri's limited vision- his peripheral view was capable enough to capture any motions Satiah made with her left hand, while he had an unrestricted view of the open surroundings to his left. Any scenery that he would have missed to his right were blocked Khalid and Farjad's wyverns anyway.

Dimitri discovered a certain thrill to flying. He had been primarily focused on his chores during his brief experiences in the past, but there was an undeniable freedom to this outing. The world below him became small, and he watched the city slip away as they took off into the unknown. For a brief time, he completely forgot all of the troubles he had left behind. All that mattered was what lay forward.

It soon became clear just how enormous Almyra truly was. The rest of the day was spent flying, only intermittently interrupted by rest breaks. Despite their gains, however, the land seemed to stretch on endlessly. The terrain became drier the farther they moved away from the ocean, eventually shifting into desert. The flow of air cooled their bodies while flying, but it became clear just how stifling hot it was when they landed for a meal break. As their escorts argued over portioning their water, Dimitri stared at the horizon. The ceaseless golden sand dunes continued as far as he could see. The whole landscape seemed to ripple in the heat haze.

"You're probably starting to think Almyra is a boring wasteland, aren't you? This place is called the Maranjab. I think it has a certain charm, but I understand why you might not think so. It would be an utter pain to move an army through it, that's for certain. My father could tell you that from experience," Khalid rambled as he stood beside his retainer. He then turned to his other companions. "Any chance we can set up camp in the channel tonight? I know that will stretch tomorrow's journey a bit, but I think it's worth spending some time there."

"You are in command, Prince Khalid," Satiah replied. "It is all the same to us, so long as you do not mind your arrival being delayed."

Khabash took it one step further. "I'd actively support it, actually. The longer this journey takes, the more we can charge for our services, right?"

"Khabash! You can't just talk to a prince like that!" Satiah exclaimed in horror.

"So is that a confession that you were at least thinking it, though?" Farjad asked her calmly. "If we wish to do this more tactfully, we could recommend a further deviation from our course. Maybe a hunting trip in the Mikdash?"

Khabash was tickled by this exchange, while Satiah groaned, "You're not helping, Farjad!"

The three escorts continued to squabble while Khalid retreated to Dimitri's side. "They're probably going to argue for the next half-hour, but I'm pretty sure that we are going."

"What is this 'channel' you spoke of?" Dimitri queried.

"It has an old name in Elam's dialect that even I have a difficult time annunciating. Roughly translated, it would come out as 'The Channel of Blood', which is what most people now call it. It's a canyon on the border of Shomal. Once we pass through, we will officially be in Elam."

"Why did it earn its name? Was there a battle there?"

Khalid smiled. "I think you'll be able to guess the answer when you see it."

The group was soon in flight again. The desert continued to stretch for some distance, but the terrain gradually became rockier as the sand dunes were phased out by arid mountains and canyons. Eventually, they slipped into a particularly deep canyon that hid a small creek snaking through it. Dimitri quickly identified this place as the Channel of Blood.

They advanced for another fifteen minutes before finally settling on a place to land. With his feet safely on the ground, Dimitri had the opportunity to take in the surroundings without distraction.

"Incredible. Not only is the canyon crimson, but even the sand itself," he said aloud.

"The angle of the sun is helping some, but you're absolutely right," Khalid agreed. "Unlike Zanado, this place would actually deserve the title of 'The Red Canyon.' But I guess the Almyrans found that phrasing somewhat uninspired, hence 'Channel of Blood.'"

Besides the color, the sheer size of the canyon was impressive compared to what they had come across up to that point. With the high walls guarding them, it almost seemed like they were nestled in a separate world. The air was much cooler in the shade, and plant life even managed to grow along the river.

Dimitri picked up a handful of sand and allowed the rosy grains to slowly slip between his fingers. As awed as he was by the sight, his companions treated it as little more than a camping outing in an ordinary forest. They made preparations for their shelter without showing Dimitri any interest until Farjad accidentally bumped into him while carrying wooden poles.

"Dimitri, could you help me with these?" Farjad asked at that time.

After growing up as a prince, it was startling to be handed orders like he was no one important. Dimitri did not necessarily mind, however. He took several of the poles and followed any commands he was given. The sand was ideal for driving stakes into, which made setting up their tent fairly simple.

The final arrangement of the rectangular tent was quite large, with one long side open to the air. Various mismatched rugs that had been draped over the wyverns filled out the internal space. It was not a design Dimitri was accustomed to, but he was pleased that he would still have a wide view outside while lounging in the shelter.

Once the tent was finished, the escorts began unloading the wyverns and dumping the remaining contents in their new refuge. They seemed quite nonchalant about it, even leaving their weapons inside.

"Is there any danger of us being attacked?" Dimitri asked.

Satiah explained, "Nothing is impossible. But no one should know where we are, and there's not much in the way of civilization within fifty miles."

Despite her answer, Satiah seemed the most alert of the group. She took a seat at the front of the tent and peered down the canyon, perhaps looking for some kind of trouble. Thinking it a prudent decision, Dimitri took a seat next to her.

"If I may ask, what is your family name? Farjad told me his, but I have not heard yours spoken," Dimitri asked her.

Satiah responded, "We don't have one. The people of Shomal have traditionally not used them. Some have started to adopt them in recent years to standardize practices, but it's still not consistent. Sardar Soraya does not use one, for example. It would almost be viewed as a slight if you weren't certain who was being referred to by 'Soraya' alone."

Though she answered the question, she had nothing more to say herself. Sensing that Satiah was not too interested in conversing, Dimitri fell silent as the two kept watch. Farjad read a book alone while Khalid troubled Khabash over a map.

"You've been to your mother's homeland in Dagda, haven't you, Khabash?" Dimitri could hear the prince ask.

"Of course! Three times that I can recollect. Is there something you'd like to know about it?"

"Yes and no. I'd like to hear more about it another time, but my current question is a bit different. How long is the journey there by ship from Astane? Or Metanoiapolis?"

"From Astane… Forty to forty-five days, depending on the weather. That is to my mother's actual home on the southern coast, so naturally it would not take as long to reach the nearest point of Dagda. I've never been there from Metanoiapolis, but I imagine the journey would be quite a bit shorter. Maybe only thirty days?"

"I assume you pass by Brigid on the way there, correct? How far would you say Brigid is from Astane?"

"At least five days less. Probably thirty-six days on average."

"And how is the journey around Sreng? It's supposed to be treacherous, but I have not heard many firsthand accounts."

"It's unpleasant, certainly. Bitterly cold. But treacherous? I don't know. I was never too worried about my safety. Maybe if the captain was inexperienced, but those that pass through that route have made the trip many times. Why do you ask all of this, Khalid?"

"I try to stay as informed as possible. I know someone from Brigid, and I was curious how quickly I could talk to an old friend if I liked." There was a brief pause before Khalid continued, "By the way, the depiction of Fódlan on this map is terrible. This shows the boundaries of the Central Church as far too large, even combining the Western Church lands into it. That's a rather inaccurate depiction of the state of things to say the least."

"My family has connections. I could probably track down whoever made this and have you propose corrections that can be incorporated in future editions."

"It's a nice sentiment, but people probably think I already sympathize too much with Fódlan's cause. It's best I not get involved."

"Not acceptable!" Khabash exclaimed. "It's not right that you and Dimitri's friends are misrepresented like that. Make a list of all the changes that are needed, and I'll tell the mapmaker myself! It would be my honor."

Khalid laughed warmly. "Alright, Khabash. You have a deal. Find something to write with, and I'll help you make a list."

Satiah and Farjad must also have been eavesdropping, as they soon joined their friends at the map out of curiosity. Dimitri was still tired of looking at maps from his days at sea, so he instead took a stroll down to the creek. He brushed some of the water over his face. His skin felt dry and cracked after being whipped by wind, sand, and sun, but the water made quick wonders.

On its own, the rivulet would impress no one. However, this stream of water had somehow survived grueling conditions to singlehandedly carve out such a magnificent canyon. It was a remarkable example of resilience over the course of centuries. Dimitri had to respect how something so small and weak could accomplish so much. In comparison, Dimitri was born with all the gifts in the world and had still faltered. Everyone he ever loved had died because of his failures. He did not deserve to haunt such a beautiful place with his presence.

When Dimitri returned to the camp, the tone had dramatically shifted. For some reason, two piles of rocks had been set up, and two spare poles were fixed upright in the sand.

Khalid was hiding half his face with his hand. "This is a terrible idea. What's the point if you aren't even riding a horse? We can't come even close to simulating the conditions of the actual event."

"We don't have to," Farjad countered. "The current arrangement excludes factors that will make the shot far easier than the one you had to make. If he misses badly, it will forever nullify his claim that he could have made that goal."

Dimitri lacked the context to this conversation, but it was easy to guess. For some reason, Khabash felt the need to defend his honor after the reveal that Khalid had been the one to make the final shot in their famed polo match, and now he had embarked on a mission to prove he was capable of doing the same. The poles represented the goal posts, and the rock piles must have marked the positioning of the defenders.

Khabash corrected, "If I miss, which I won't. And if I do, it would only be because my mallet is bad. What do we plan to use for a mallet, anyways?" His eyes swept the area greedily until he saw where Areadbhar leaned against the tent. Dimitri had left it there to help ween off his dependence on his weapon.

"Ah!" Khabash exclaimed as he reached towards it. Dimitri lurched forward to stop him, but Khalid was able to resolve the dilemma first.

"No, no, don't touch that!" Khalid warned. "I would highly recommend not laying a finger on either my weapon or Dimitri's. Actually, no. That's not strong enough phrasing. I forbid you from doing so."

Khabash stopped inches away, but he did not give up entirely. "I promise I won't break it… assuming it's not really flimsy despite being some legendary weapon. Or do you have another concern?"

"Well, there's a nonzero chance that you'll transform a horrible monstrosity that the rest of us will have to put down. So there's that."

Khabash's hand swiftly recoiled from the lance. "Oh. That's a pretty good reason."

Satiah was less accommodating of Khalid's answer. "I don't blame you for not wanting my brother to touch your belongings, but you didn't have to come up with such a ridiculous excuse for why."

"I'm serious, really! Can't you back me up, Dimitri?"

Dimitri nodded. Even so, Satiah contended, "He's probably in on the joke."

Quoting an old friend, Dimitri answered, "Nobody's ever accused me of being funny."

Everyone found this explanation reasonable, so Khabash began to look for an alternative mallet in earnest. He settled on a short wooden pole that they ended up not needing to prop the tent. It was probably a more accurate representation of a mallet than Areadbhar, albeit not as exciting to use.

Khabash selected a smooth rock for a ball and settled on a final position. Farjad appealed for Khalid to review the choice for accuracy. Though still unimpressed by this reenactment, the prince recommended a few adjustments that made the attempt a bit more difficult than Khabash had planned on. The whole affair was patently ridiculous, but Farjad was pleased to egg him on, while no one else had the heart to force Khabash to stop.

Everyone backed away as Khabash closed one eye and pointed his "mallet" towards the goal posts in preparation for his shot.

Farjad began, "I don't think Prince Khalid had the chance to stud-."

He was unable to finish his sentence before Khabash swung at his makeshift ball. It ricocheted off of the nearest rockpile and, in an astonishing misfortune, launched itself directly at Farjad's eye. He immediately fell to the ground after being struck as everyone hurried to his side.

"I'm so sorry! Are you alright, friend?" Khabash asked a bit shrilly.

"You know, times like this remind me why I usually try to keep my mouth shut as much as possible," Farjad muttered. He groaned and tapped his eye as the others helped him sit up. "Yeah, this is definitely going to bruise. And to think that I'm supposed to present myself to the royal court looking like this!"

Farjad was right. His cheek was cut open directly below his left eye. It was only a matter of time before it blackened.

"You can stay with the wyverns while Khabash and I pay respects to the king, if that is what you would like," Satiah recommended.

"Somehow that would be even more embarrassing," Farjad sighed. "Alright, can someone help me to somewhere more comfortable?"

Dimitri and Khabash worked together to move Farjad inside the tent. Khabash had previously set aside a set of cushions for his own use, but he allowed Farjad to borrow these during his recuperation.

"So… I think we can all agree that we'll never speak of this incident again?" Khalid appealed once Farjad was situated.

Almost everyone there had a reason to agree- Farjad had a humiliating injury, Khabash had failed, Satiah was embarrassed by association, and Khalid had enabled the whole event. Only Dimitri was left unscathed. They all looked to him expectantly.

"I promise nothing," Dimitri said plainly.

Though everyone else was at least a little alarmed, Khalid calmed them with a laugh. "It's alright. Dimitri has even more shameful stories about me than this, and he's still kept mum on them." Once everyone's nerves were steadied, he continued, "I should have said this before things got out of hand, but passing in polo is arguably more difficult than scoring. Maybe it should have been me trying to recreate Khabash's pass."

"Prince Khalid is correct," Farjad said as he rubbed his wound. "You did alright, Khabash. I'm willing to take a hit for the sake of a memory worth laughing about."

Khabash beamed proudly at their support. "You all really are great friends. If it will help, we can gladly emphasize my horrible swing rather than you choosing a bad place to stand."

"That would be missing the best part, though," Satiah said. Even she had to stifle a laugh. "Sorry, sorry… no laughing until it's clear you're alright, Farjad. Tell us if you feel dizzy or confused, okay?"

Farjad continued to feel well enough, so by the time they were cooking supper, they were all openly joking about the incident. It would still remain a secret to only those present, of course. His injury would be attributed to one of the wyverns misbehaving.

The sun had set by the end of their meal, and the canyon quickly darkened. Though there was allegedly minimal risk of trouble, everyone agreed to take shifts watching guard of the camp. Dimitri drew the first slot, so he took a seat a few yards away from the tent with Areadbhar resting across his lap.

Khalid had spent much of their journey at sea in meditation. Dimitri tried to follow that example during his night watch to steady his mind. Unfortunately, every gust of wind, cry of a wyvern, or rustle in the brush deprived him of his focus. He spent the entire time somehow exhausted while also uninterested in sleep.

After many false alarms, a human finally approached Dimitri's perch. It was only Khalid, however.

"It should be about time for me to take over. You're free to go," the newcomer told Dimitri.

"I'm not tired yet."

"Then you're welcome to sit with me until you're ready. I'm not going back to sleep." They sat silently for some time before Khalid glanced back towards their tent. He chuckled at something he saw, which caused Dimitri to look as well. Despite all of the space available, Khabash was positioned in front of his sister with his back propped up and sword at hand as if he was ready to spring into action to protect her at a moment's notice.

"Despite their bickering, it's clear that Khabash and Satiah care deeply about each other," Khalid mused. "I wish I could say the same about my brothers."

Dimitri briefly tittered in response. "I can't imagine your relationships with your siblings are any worse than mine."

"But you're an only child," Khalid uttered indecisively. "At least… I thought you were?"

"Ah. Right, I suppose we never discussed this fully. So be it. I once mentioned the emperor's willingness to kill her own mother. That was because she did… at Duscur. Her mother also happened to be my stepmother, making the emperor my sister by marriage."

"Your stepmother? You… had a stepmother? How did I not know of this?"

"Few did. In the Empire, she was known as Anselma von Arundel, one of Emperor Ionius's many consorts. I don't know the details, but court infighting forced her out of Enbarr. My father provided her asylum in Fhirdiad. If the imperial nobles caught wind of her presence in our land… at best they would have been incensed, and at worst they would have tried repatriating her. Therefore, both Anselma and my father agreed that it would be best if she stayed primarily confined to the palace. She took on a new name- Patricia, which is what I always knew her as. She and my father soon fell in love and were married. However, given the situation, their marriage had to remain a secret. Patricia was assigned as a nursemaid for me, so I was able to consistently see her. My father rarely found a moment alone with her, though. Given their stations, it would have been improper to be seen together often. They would have made the marriage public once tensions in the Kingdom and Empire cooled, but the Tragedy occurred before that could happen."

Khalid took a moment to digest all of this before asking quietly, "Did your friends know about this?"

"Felix's father Lord Rodrigue knew, as did Annette's father Gustave. I believe I may have carelessly alluded to it with Professor Byleth as well. No one else you knew would have had knowledge of it."

"So if Anselma lived in the palace with you, does that mean you grew up with Edelgard?"

"No. At least… not exactly. My stepmother was forced out of the Empire, but her daughter was still a child of the emperor that bore a Crest. She… had value to them," Dimitri explained, nearly spitting the final words in disgust. "She remained in Enbarr until the Insurrection of the Seven. Anselma's brother Lord Arundel sought refuge in Fhirdiad at that time, taking Edelgard with him and similarly keeping a low profile. Arundel had initially supported the Insurrection's primary objective, but I suppose he had a change of heart. Perhaps something caused him to fear for his niece's safety? Anyways, they stayed there for around three years before returning to the Empire."

"So at least Edelgard and her mother were able to spend some time together during that period?"

Dimitri shook his head as he frowned. "Not at all. In fact, I am not sure if they were ever even aware that they were in the same city. I did not know of their connection until much later. There was probably only person who knew at the time." Dimitri had to pause as he gritted his teeth. "That witch Cornelia."

"What exactly is Cornelia's story? How did she manage to get so involved in everything?" Khalid inquired. "I know she helped fight the plague in Faerghus, right?"

"She was a researcher who used her skills in magic to help aid the sick, but she did more than that. She also oversaw the complete overhaul of Fhirdiad's infrastructure, making improvements that helped end the plague altogether and provided a defense against future threats. She became immensely popular for that and was soon given significant authority. Given her position, Cornelia was able to both befriend my stepmother and communicate openly with my father. She also helped settle Lord Arundel in Fhirdiad. After the Tragedy, she took on even more influence since my uncle had no interest in actually governing."

"So how does someone who did so much good over many years of service end up betraying the Kingdom right as soon as the war starts?"

"I never said all of her service was good. I don't deny her assistance with the plague, but I found her revolting for as long as I remember. I can only imagine that her early kindness was a mask to work her way into favor. Perhaps she started the plague herself to serve as a pathway to power."

"Or it isn't the same woman at all," Khalid pondered.

"What do you mean?"

"Remember Tomas, or Monica? Some of the church's enemies somehow had the ability to change their appearance. One might have wondered if 'Tomas' was really Solon all along, but it was obvious enough that Kronya took on a real Monica's identity. If I had to guess, the real Cornelia is just as dead as Tomas and Monica, and the woman ruling the Dukedom today is someone else entirely. Cornelia was the perfect target- she was a prominent and beloved figure, but she would not have had the constant protection of bodyguards like the royal family."

"Perhaps you are right," Dimitri conceded in relief. "My stepmother was close to Cornelia, and I always found it difficult to believe that she would be such a poor judge of character. If such a replacement happened, it may well have occurred between my stepmother's arrival and that of Lord Arundel."

Khalid bopped himself on the forehead. "What a mess. I don't think I could have come up with a more convoluted story if I tried. If your stepmother did not know that Edelgard was in Fhirdiad, I suppose you never encountered her there, either?"

"I'm afraid I must make the story even more complex. While Patricia never saw her daughter, I once accompanied my father on a visit to Lord Arundel's residence. He and Edelgard had already been living in Faerghus for some time, but they had been relocated after a fear that their location had been leaked. We were only there to apologize for the hassle and ensure that the new arrangements were comfortable. We knew we were sheltering a prominent figure from the Empire, but I do not know if Arundel's name was ever spoken in our presence. It was best for the king to know as little as necessary in case the Empire discovered our assistance… willful ignorance, as you once put it. Not to mention that my father had already gotten entangled deep enough in imperial politics by marrying Patricia. As it so happened, I ran into Edelgard while I was there. We became fast friends, and I was permitted to spend many days with her while she was in Fhirdiad. Many of my happiest memories come from that year we had together."

"But at the academy… how could no one have realized that you two were so close? How did I not notice? I joked about the two of you being an item, but those were just jokes."

"She and I did not speak of our relation. We rarely talked at all."

"You mean you went to the Officer's Academy with your stepsister and… literally never talked about it?" The magnitude of confusion in Khalid's voice reached the point of coming across as judgmental.

"It's complicated. I alluded to our time in Fhirdiad together on a couple of occasions, but she seemed to just ignore me. Almost as if she did not remember it." Dimitri shrugged. "I suppose those days did not mean as much to her as me. It was a long time ago, so I understood. I was different. She was different. Even her hair color had changed. Our destinies had diverged, and there was no use dwelling on it. I told her to cut her own path, after all. I had a path of my own."

Khalid raised a hand. "Hold on… there's one detail there that you somehow brushed over like it was nothing. Her hair color wasn't always white?"

"Oh. Well, as I remember, it was more of a light brown. Though I suppose I could be imagining that. Why do you ask?"

"Well, most people's hair color doesn't just suddenly change like that," Khalid said quickly as if the answer was obvious. "Not when they're still young, at least. Did you not find it even a little odd?"

"Of course, but I had no cause to fret over it. I thought it was likely a result of her Crest. Crests can have all sorts of unusual effects, and alterations to someone's hair did not seem too far out of the question."

"Yeah, it's possible that I might have guessed along the same lines. That is, were it not for something Lysithea said to me before the Battle at Gronder. She seemed to recognize some of the imperial mages we faced, claiming that they practiced in blood experimentation. The way she said it… it sounded so personal, like she spoke from firsthand experience. She didn't say anything specific, so maybe I'm extrapolating too much… but it seemed like her hair reminded her of that experience. If you don't remember, Lysithea's hair color was as white as Edelgard's. So if those mages were the cause of Lysithea's condition…"

"Then they could have gotten El, too," Dimitri finished.

"It's just a theory, but it fits together nicely." Khalid spent a few seconds in contemplative silence before continuing, "You know, information coming out of the Empire was rather thin during the period following the Insurrection of the Seven. Edelgard's father, Emperor Ionius IX, supposedly had numerous children with both his wife and his consorts. And yet, they all seem to just disappear from the records after the Insurrection. Some supposedly died of illness. Others just vanished from the public eye after their mothers fell out of favor. If Edelgard was the only one born with a Crest, it makes sense that she would be elevated above the rest. But still… it's all rather odd how every last one of them was just whisked away from history. I tried inquiring Edelgard about the Insurrection several times, but she always brushed me off. What was she hiding…"

"Do you think these mages worked on Edelgard's siblings as well, and that they did not survive whatever was done to them?" Dimitri asked.

"Maybe. Then again, Edelgard was working with these mages, while waging a war against groups that had nothing to do with whatever might have happened to her and her siblings. That seems… surprising, to say the least, so maybe we're missing the mark with that one. It's something to think about, though." Khalid then shook his head vigorously. "No, I take that back. Forget about it until tomorrow. I know you have enough trouble sleeping as it is."

"It will not make a difference," Dimitri muttered. "But, Khalid… Thank you for listening. I have gone so many years carrying that past alone. I did not know it would be such a relief to share it."

"I'm glad I could help. It's good to see that you are finally catching on after I already spilled most of my secrets to you."

Dimitri smiled. "Nonsense. I told you mine willingly. You shared yours when you had no other choice, not because of trust. You only told me you were from Almyra when you tried persuading me to join you. You only provided your name when I was about to hear others use it regularly. You only explained your motives in Fódlan after Soraya forced your hand."

Dimitri could not see Khalid's reaction, but the man delayed his answer as he presumably evaluated the accusation. Khalid finally admitted, "When you put it like that, I can't argue. Fine, I'll work on telling you things before the last minute going forward. Can I ask you to do the same?"

"I will do so," Dimitri answered, but his mind had already moved on. He was thinking of El. What had those monsters done to her? They had ripped away the humanity of a good, kind girl and left a husk that served as the face for their insidious desires. El… If only she had told him before it was too late. He would have pursued her enemies into the eternal flames if he had to.

Dimitri had nearly forgotten Khalid was even there, but the Almyran prince somehow seemed to know just what Dimitri was thinking. "Listen, Dimitri. Whatever happened to Edelgard in the past, I would still be hesitant to completely depict her as a victim. By all accounts, she genuinely believes that her reasons for fighting are just and that her methods are sound, so don't take away her accountability for everything that has happened."

"Why are you telling me this? It makes no difference to me," Dimitri lied. "She must die either way."

Khalid laughed gravely. "Yeah, maybe it sounds ridiculous for me to say that to you. 'That woman is a heartless beast' and all that. But Edelgard is also your sister, and there's a real chance she won't make it out of this war alive. I just want to make sure you're ready to come to terms with that if it happens. If we get the news, you might be surprised by what emotions hit you."

Dimitri looked away with a grimace and then turned his gaze up at the night sky. The mesmerizing sight elicited a gasp. The familiar stars had never appeared so bright, and he could observe other faint ones litter the firmament that were revealing themselves for the first time in his life. Or had he simply not looked up in so long that he had forgotten their positions in the expanse?

The cliff faces surrounding them shielded the canyon floor from any nearby light and focused the attention of an observer towards the portion of the sky that was not blocked from view. That undoubtedly played a role in the brilliance of the visible stars. Dimitri had liked to imagine he was much the same- by blocking out everything else in his life, he could devote his entire self towards his purpose of avenging the dead. But despite that, he had somehow failed to grasp key details of his enemy. How could he be so blind?

Dimitri leaned on his father's lance as he stood. "I shall try to sleep," he mumbled.