Bernadetta von Varley walked through the stone pathways of Garreg Mach as the sounds of screaming and steel clashing filled her ears. Despite her best efforts, she had never gotten used to the battlefield like Ferdinand or Edelgard or… well, any of the others, really. Every moment was a struggle to force herself not to look away and plug her ears. Sight meant a flash of blood, a corpse on the ground in front of her, the life draining from the eyes of someone she was supposed to protect. Hearing meant wails of pain, growls of soldiers twice her weight coming to kill her, and clanging of metal louder than pots and pans.

More than anything, she wanted to hide away in her room in the monastery. That was what she did whenever her father was in a bad mood, which was… almost always. It was nice and dark and quiet and ordered the exact way she wanted.

This war… the dying around her… even being tied to a chair for hours on end was better.

She thought she overcame her demons when Byleth led the Black Eagle strike force to victory after victory without a single one falling. But Byleth left her in the end, like everyone always did. Petra died following them into Fhirdiad's inferno. And the key tactician of the new unified Fódlan, Claude, was someone who came milliseconds away from killing her. She couldn't trust him. She couldn't trust anyone.

Bernadetta gritted her teeth. Dorotha and Ferdinand looked out for her when nobody else did. Dorothea spent late nights with her in the dining hall, the only time where it was empty enough for Bernadetta to feel comfortable eating, listening to her silly ramblings. Assuring her that the way she turned out wasn't her fault, that together they could help her break free of her father's influence.

With Ferdinand gone, Dorothea was the only one left.

As Bernadetta trudged through Garreg Mach, a white, dragon-like creature flew down and roared at her. Where did it come from? Bernadetta heard that Seiros went berserk, but these other creatures seemed like they appeared out of thin air.

"This is it," she said. "This is where you kill me, isn't it?"

The beast roared in response. Bernadetta unslung the improved killer bow that Byleth gave them, designed to pierce weak points and score critical hits. When she looked up at the white beast, she didn't feel afraid. Panic, of course, but not fear. She was too tired from the war to care.

She unleashed a hunter's volley combat art, the same way Byleth taught her. Two arrows slammed into the dragon, and it flinched. Wounded, but gathering energy from further in itself like a demonic beast. Bernadetta narrowed her eyes. The beast unleashed a blast of energy that took her straight in the chest.

Pain.

She felt the panic creeping in, and she couldn't stop it. She was vaguely aware that she unleashed more arrows at the beast, but she couldn't recount the events of what happened. When she came to, she was bleeding and the white beast was dead on the ground in front of her. Did it hit her another time? She didn't know.

Her heartbeat echoed in her ears. If she let her thoughts wander too far, she could go to dangerous places and lose herself again. She was alive, and she was going to make whatever use she could out of the little strength she had. Even if she wanted to hide in her room, the monsters were eventually going to hunt her down and kill her.

She continued walking forward. Each step brought more pain. She didn't know if she was going in the right direction, or even where she was. She nearly laughed at herself. Stupid, worthless, unmarriageable. Her dad was right all along. Pathetic little Bernie couldn't do anything right. This was where she died, alone and unloved.

But even as those thoughts ran through her mind, she didn't lose herself to the panic. Instead, she let the pain hone her senses into a state of intense focus. The sky was bluer than she had ever seen it before. Each stone paved into the ground held its own secrets. The world was stretched in front of her, blinding in its detail. And in the far distance, she saw the Immaculate One. Seiros.

That was where Dorothea would be. She walked off in that direction without questioning herself. Soon, her anxiety faded entirely into calm. Just her and the battlefield. Was this what the others felt? For the first time, Bernadetta let all of the weight melt away. Dying, pathetic, but still alive. Nothing else mattered.

Along the way, she picked up a lance from a fallen warrior. She didn't know which side of the fight the church soldiers were on, since on her way out of her room she saw many of them get corrupted like Seiros. She used the butt of the weapon as a walking stick to keep herself moving forward as the pain grew and grew. Eventually, she had to use it with both hands.

But she didn't let it stop her. Even when the pain made her cry out, she kept walking forward.

After turning a corner, she saw Seiros in her full, draconic glory. The Immaculate One towered over her and the other humans nearby. She let out a roar that shook the earth and nearly knocked Bernadetta over. The Immaculate One turned towards a group of people. Bernadetta squinted at them, and her heart pounded faster with each face she recognized.

Linhardt. Seteth. Flayn. Dorothea. All battered and bleeding, like her.

Bernadetta took a deep breath. No more hesitation.

"I do this for all of us." The words were hoarse and barely above a whisper, but they were enough.

Berndatetta let out a battle cry as she charged forward with her lance. The pain in her chest and legs vanished. Her view of the others was blocked in her periphery. It was her and the Immaculate One. Nothing was going to stand in her way.

Seiros turned her long dragon neck to glance at Bernadetta. She opened her mouth. In the back of her mind, Bernadetta knew that meant an energy attack was coming. One that would kill her.

She didn't let herself care.

Bernadetta ran up to the Immaculate One and channeled all of her pain and focus into a single lance strike. She spun the weapon around into a wide sweep, catching the dragon's leg.

Vengeance. When did the combat art come to her? It wasn't one Byleth taught her.

Seiros recoiled back. After a pause, she looked at Bernadetta, who was panting and kneeling. That should be enough time for the others to escape to safety. For once in her life, she managed to do something she was proud of. She could die-

The Immaculate One let out a grunt and flapped her wings. The force of the motion knocked Bernadetta back to a sitting position. After one last glance at her, the Immaculate One flew off, heading to the outskirts of the monastery. Bernadetta forced herself to her feet.

Still alive.

The next moment, she saw someone darting towards her. She raised her lance before identifying the person as Dorothea. She dropped her weapon and fell into Dorothea's arms. So strong and secure… it was all she could do not to drift off to unconsciousness.

"Bern, That was the bravest thing I've ever seen in my life," Dorothea said. "And also reckless. Promise me you'll never do anything like that again, okay?"

White healing magic surged through her body. Bernadetta blinked her eyes open and looked up into Dorothea's smile.

"I wasn't going to let you down," Bernadetta said.

She looked over Dorothea's shoulder and saw the others approaching. Linhardt was healing Flayn, who was healing both him and Seteth in return. Three healers together were probably the reason they survived so long in the first place. Dorothea released Bernadetta from her embrace and turned to face the rest of the party.

"You have my utmost thanks for your timely arrival," Seteth said.

"You were majestic." Flayn clasped her hands together. "Like a hero of ancient times."

Bernadetta? A hero? The thought was ridiculous. Still, she felt a warm sensation rise in her body.

"Guess now the pressure's really on me to step it up," Linhardt said. "What's the plan, Seteth?"

"This is all my fault." Seteth looked at the ground. "I knew what was happening. But when I raised the lance to strike her down, I froze."

"What's done is done," Dorothea said. "What are our next steps? You're the only one here who knows what's happening."

"We'll have to kill her. There's no other way. You bought us valuable time, Bernadetta. Let us regroup with the church soldiers who were not corrupted and coordinate an defensive line. If Dimitri and the others defeat Nemesis, we can expect reinforcements so long as we hold out."

Nemesis? Like… the Fell King from the legends? Why did nobody tell Bernadetta about this? She supposed this is what she got for staying in her room all the time.

"We go, then," Flayn said. "With tears in our eyes but weapons ready to strike. Let us stop this carnage together."

Together. Bernadetta examined the lance in her hands. Today, she was something more than a scared little girl who cloistered herself away from all other people.

Today, she was the warrior Fódlan needed.

The idea for this chapter came from me looking at Bernadetta's personal skill and vengeance combat art. Initially, she gets more panicked as she takes damage, and that gives her power, but I like to imagine it blossoming into the pain sharpening her battle focus as she comes into her own more.

Also, I could not for the life of me find animations for the white beasts so generic energy blasts is what they get.

One more interlude and then we go back to Claude. :)