After some slight delays, I'm happy to present the sequel I envisioned to "Things Worth Fighting For", and prequel piece to "Knight and Demon", sorta. Obviously, this is post Azure Moon, but with some personal headcanon interpretations. There'll be some romance, but also some emotional and family drama as you'd expect when a relationship goes public in a…complicated time.
I do not own anything.
Chapter 1-Here Comes the Rain
"I heard he's midget."
There was a dismissive scuff the Dark Knight sitting near the head of the table. "Now, look, I know we all may hate the little upstart bastard, but he's no midget. Trust me, I was there when those kingdom upstarts laid siege to the Imperial Palace. Though he's not quite as tall as that bastard king, the kid's got some height to him."
"Did you cross blades with the Ashen Demon?" Inquired another member of the table, an Armored Knight who'd been kind enough to remove his helmet revealing a head full of bright red hair and sea-green eyes. But not the rest of his armor. Lying at his side was his pristine silver axe.
There was another grunt, this one far deeper. The knight's gauntlet-covered fingers lightly dug into the wooden table upon which the six assembled Imperials sat at. Compressed malice swirled in his eyes as he looked at each of his compatriots. "No, but my brother did. He now rests with our parents and our countrymen including the Emperor herself. Like the rest of you, I yearn to even things out. By any means necessary."
A dark silence took hold of the small meeting chamber, not even the late-night wind outside could be heard. Internally speaking, on the other hand, the men and women were adrift in a raging sea of anger and animosity. There was little need to speak what already felt burning within their hearts, some more passionately than others.
Malicious laughter rolled through the room. Rather than inspire, it chilled the bones of the six Imperial officers who'd occupied the room. Their meeting hadn't exactly been complete as there was one member missing. They, or more accurately she, wasn't particularly someone that the six felt comfortable in interacting with. There was dealing with the rowdy and unruly, and then there was dealing with the absolute insane. The six Imperials all felt that way about conversing with the pale-skinned Gremory who quite literally emerged from the shadows to join them. Her hood fell down revealing a hand full of ashen gray hair and equally paled skin. It was entirely possible had the woman lived an ordinary life on the surface her face would have held more color, but alas, like the rest of her kind, she'd spent her life submerged underground.
Personally, the six Imperial remnants would have preferred to keep it that way, but things were beyond their control. Besides, just as their late Emperor had kept the dark sorcerers close at hand to better watch them, so too would they. While they had nowhere near the power they used to, a majority wanted to believe that they had enough to keep the remains of those who slither in the dark at bay. Or at least long enough for them to take their revenge then send them back into the ground where they came from.
Until then, they would continue to walk among them. And hopefully they would aid them in sending their loathsome enemies to the graves that had been so thoroughly dug out for them.
"Ah, hatred, it warms my heart to see its invigorating fires have not faded from your hearts." Chuckled the woman taking her seat at the far end of the table. One would have been forgiven for thinking she was the head of it; or not, considering that some looked rather uncomfortable at the set up of things. The foreign woman sat at the end while to her side sat the Imperial remnants, the resistance as they were being called. It was an unflattering label, but one the dark sorceress knew suited them all quite well. No longer were they an army, the strongest army on Fódlan, they were nothing but remnants. Just like her. "Now then, I suppose we should get to discussing how best to use that hated instead of letting it just simmer, though that itself can be quite entertaining."
"Pittacus!" Roared the Dark Knight, the apparent leader of the group. "We didn't convey to listen to you prattle on! We all assembled here tonight to discuss a way to remove the blight on this land that is the Ashen Demon! That upstart! That murderous little bastard! Can you or can you not help us infiltrate Garreg Mach so that we may remove his vile head from his shoulders!" There was a murmur of agreement from the other heads at the table, the Adrestian heads anyway.
The pale-skinned sorceress looked to the veteran knight with a mixture of disdain and mild curiosity. Normally, she would have had his head for speaking to her in such a manner, but times were tough and desperate action was needed. Incredibly desperate action. "The Ashen Demon, the Fell Star, yes. If we were to topple him then we could perhaps cripple that one-eyed beast as well, hehehe, we'd send all of Fódlan careening back into chaos."
"We'd take back what was rightfully ours." Corrected the heavy-armored knight with a pointed glare. "Know this, we do not share your seething hatred for the boy."
"Don't you?" Pressed the ancient woman drumming her fingers along the wooden table. "If it weren't for that boy, all of Fódlan would be under flying the colors of the Imperial Flag."
"Yes, and your kind would be back in the dustbin of history where your kind belong." Snarled one of the members, a Dark Bishop with a jagged scar running across the bridge of his nose. It seemed his disdain for the foreigner wasn't being as hidden as his compatriots.
To her credit, Pittacus brushed off his words and gaze with a dismissive snort. Mostly. The side glare she shot the fellow dark magic user was nothing short of purely venomous. "As I'm sure you all most know, especially you, Othmar, what we are dealing with is pure destruction condensed into the form of a beast. One that wields the Sword of the Creator…"
"The King of Liberation reborn." Grunted the Dark Knight, Othmar.
The aside glare he was shot went largely unnoticed. "Thief, that's all he was, just as all this brat is. Stealing away that which doesn't belong to him, stealing away from the proper owners. It's no wonder that accursed woman chose to pass her title onto him. Cut from the same cloth I suppose."
"Should we not strike at the Ashen Demon before he is formally coronated?" Spoke up one of the members. While the former prince's coronation had been a somewhat rushed affair, things would likely be different for the title of Archbishop, especially after such a massive uproar against and within the church. "Would it not be best to strike then? At which point we'll have amassed what forces we can?"
"Feeling bold, are we?" Offered the pale-skinned woman knitting his fingers together with a growing sneer on her face. "To implant such a plan we would need inside operatives feeding us accurate information. Should anything go array, I need not explain what fate will await you all."
"And you, Pittacus." Added Othmar with pointed eyes. "You're going to be waiting just as much on this as the rest of us, meaning should things go south you'll share in the punishment. Perhaps more so than us considering your list of crimes is far graver than ours."
What came out was something between a snort of dismal and a laugh of pure arrogance. "Ah, Othmar, comparing me to the rest of you, you are lucky that I am in a forgiving mood."
"The rest of us?!" barked Dark Bishop, his hair scooting back while his gloved hands slammed against the table causing it to shake. Magical energy surged through his body super-charging the air itself and causing a very noticeable change in the atmosphere on multiple levels. Some at the table shifted uncomfortably, even those in armor like the second in command. "You are little more than a worm that wasn't washed away with the rest of your kind by the floodwaters! You're no different than us, sneaking around and biting at scraps to sustain yourself!"
"How dare you, you pathetic excuse of a sorcerer!" Snapped back the gray-haired woman, her dark eyes suddenly ablaze with murderous fury. A second later and it wasn't just her eyes; Pittacus raised her right hand, dark energy swirling about her palm in the face of a screaming face. It nicely complimented the look of vile spite that had colored the subterranean woman's face. Any second the blast would likely be let loose upon the Adrestian Dark Bishop, who'd no doubt respond to the blast with his own. "You should consider yourselves lucky I'm standing here using my time to consort with you animals! Nay, you all should be lucky that we Agarthans are even willing to associate with you maggots, you who were supposedly the strongest nation on the continent, yet were beaten down by mere roaches led by a crazed beast and reanimated corpse! If anything, the fault lies with you Adrestians, your incompetence!"
That was the last straw. The air itself finally exploded like a crack of thunder, the last prelude before the storm. Those around the table followed their instincts and attempted to move out of the blast zone as tensions between the Agarthan Gremory and the Adrestian Dark Bishop finally hit their boiling point. Some knew that this outbreak of violence was likely inventible, but they were at least hoping they'd be able to get some actual planning in before things went sour. So much for that hope.
Or that would have been the case if the leader of the remaining Imperials didn't act. His own rage had been mounting and it too had finally boiled over with Pittacus' words. Albeit, unlike his compatriot, he was able to reign his fury in quick enough to step in. His hand went for his sword, refined combat instincts allowing for him to unsheathe the weapon then bring it down in a swift blur of silver. Very briefly, he tried to picture the minty-green-haired former mercenary on the other end of his blade. Rather than flesh and bone, wood splint in half, papers and documents flying about.
His intervention was just in time, stopping the clash between the two dark magic-users, or at least the physical clash. Their death glares continued.
"Our enemy…is the Church of Seiros and the Kingdom of Faerghus…and that bastard mercenary. Keep that in mind, both of you." Othmar snarled, his face contorted into that of a fearsome vintage resembling that of a beast. It was quite ironic as stories were often told of Tempest King's own feral expressions on the battlefield, more animal than human. In the heat of battle the new leader of House Blaiddyd wasn't the only one who could dig deep and find the flame of savagery within them. To control that savagery took a certain type of self-control. Othmar had been forced to master that self-control from the end of the war to his current position. He had to continue to do so if he or his compatriots expected to survive and take their revenge on their enemies.
Pittacus snorted, her magical energy dissipating. "I have a clear enough head, it's the rest of you that need reminders."
"Woman! One more word and I shall-"
"Wenzel!"
Eyes wide, the dark sorcerer swung his arm out sending forth a wave of darken spikes that shot through the air. They collided with the steel-tipped arrows. Black and purple molded with colors of orange and green, the magical spikes suddenly bulging then exploding in deafening burst of light and sound that illuminated the warehouse room.
"It's a-" Began Othmar peering upward finding the source of the disturbance. He cursed, he cursed himself and his compatriots for being so caught up in their own squabbling they never noticed them, and he cursed the Church of Seiros. But most of all…he cursed House Charon of the Kingdom of Faerghus for spawning what was undoubtedly one of the greatest threats to the Empire and its dreams of resurgence.
The blonde's hands were clapped together, a triangle formed between her index fingers and thumbs. At the center burned an orb of shimmering light. Othmar saw the thin smile on her face borne from their eyes meeting; no doubt the blonde had watching them since the meeting began meaning she and her partner had heard everything.
Smearing hot range surged through the Imperial officer seconds before it ground to a screeching halt due to being blinded by the searing light that exploded from the knight's hands.
Roaring white light washed over the interior of the warehouse; all of the occupants were caught completely off-guard. It was a perfectly timed surprise attack, and it would have been successful had it not been for the lone Agarthan who'd chosen attend the meeting.
"Die! Die all of you, vermin!" Screeched the pale-skinned magician, her magical power surging through her body and into her hands, which were stretched out in front of her. Exploding outward was an aura of deep purple marred with black like a raging flame. Quickly, the dark energy shaped itself into a screaming face, a horrific vintage that would have frightened anyone who saw it coming straight at them.
One person didn't so much see it coming as felt it, and she wasn't at all frightened. Her hand shot to the hilt of her sword, the bone-like weapon glowing with a mixture of red and black-tinted lightning. The razor-sharp point was leveled directly at the oncoming blast; arcs of crimson lightning exploded outward in all directions as the two powers collided. Rather than one overwhelming the other, the lightning blade stood strong, as did its wielder. Through the maelstrom of darkness and lightning, a pair of bright blue eyes stared straight ahead, determination burning within them as they bore holes into the pale-haired woman on the other end.
Pittacus felt her temper flare up more than it already had before. Her fingers curled as she funneled more power into her spell, hoping to overwhelm her opponent.
For a fraction of a second, the knight was pushed back, but her heels dug in and her body tensed. Shimmering into existence behind her came the Crest of Charon, the corresponding Crest stone upon the sword becoming alight with crimson luminous. The sword was pulled back, then thrusted forward with a mighty war cry from its owner.
In a literal flash, the burst of thunder and lightning overpowered the dark energy, red-colored arcs lashed out, tearing through the walls and support beams causing a mad scramble amongst those who could still move. They knew without a doubt what was coming next, and they needed to be out of the way when it hit.
Said hit came mere seconds after the power surge. Shockwaves of pressurized air and lightning ripped through the interior of the building blasting apart any remaining windows and leaving dents in the wall that grew larger by the second. The power of lightning overcame the power of darkness, throwing the Agarthan mage backward through the wall and sending her skidding across the ground like a pebble. Meanwhile, the warehouse finally gave out with its insides having been put through the ringer. Feet pounding, the knight rushed out of the collapsing structure in pursuit of her downed foe.
She stood tall and proud in the light of the half-moon that hung overhead, few clouds in sight providing uninterrupted moonlight. It bounced off of her polished silver armor that covered her chest, shoulders, and legs. Crimson sparks rolled off of the pronged longsword that she so effortless twirled about then slung over her shoulders as she leered at the downed Gremory. "Want some advance? Stay down, that way I won't have to hurt you won't get hurt anymore. Of course…you're more than welcome to get back up so I can kick your ass again." That last bit came out with a very noticeable chuckle that made Pittacus' see red.
Dark magic pooled around her hands while her fingers dug into the cold ground beneath her. "Stay down…insolent beast! You have no idea who or what you're dealing with! Such arrogance will cost you dearly!" Her hands rose, then slammed down sending a wave of dark energy coursing through the ground toward where the knight was standing. Or rather, where she used to be standing.
A collection of purple and black-tinted spikes erupted from the space in front of the collapsed warehouse; it didn't matter as the Knight of Seiros was already sprinting toward her target, having predicted the attack was on her way to neutralizing its source. Her Heroes Relic howled with energy as it swiftly moved through the air sending out several crescent-shaped waves of lightning.
Realizing her initial attack had failed, Pittacus brought her hands up in a desperate last-minute defense. Three impacts and the barrier shattered leaving her defenseless in front of the blonde-haired knight. A gloved fist rose in a text-book upper cut, socking her right in the chin sending her soaring off the ground. The punch was followed up by a spinning side-kick that sent the wounded woman skidding across the ground once more. Blood poured through her gums as she attempted to rise to her feet, pain having overwhelmed her entire body.
"Hm, all that talk about your supposed superiority, and you got down in two short blows…just like a lot of other typical mages." Mused the female knight with yet another chuckle. "Told you to surrender peacefully, you could have avoided a bruised chin and maybe a fractured rib or two."
"S-Shut up! You're nothing but a filthy animal! Worst than the rest as you're nothing but the attack dog for that vile Archbishop! Both of them!"
The cockiness faded as the armored woman took several steps forward until she came to a stop before the downed Gremory. She was shaking in fear as she looked up into the cold blue eyes before her. Mere moments ago, those eyes had been alight with a warrior's fire, but now, now they were as cold and merciless as ice. Befitting of an executioner's almost. "As it so happens, one of those Archbishops has questions for you, and he's going to get some answers out of you."
Fingers dug into the dirt as Pittacus continued to glare daggers at her adversary. "I'll die before talking to beasts like you all!"
"You sure did a lot of talking at that meeting. Speaking of which, not that I'm complaining, but you really should treat your allies a bit better, especially since they're all you have." Coolly shot back the blonde.
"Silence! You know nothing! I am an Agartha, I am-"
"The last remnants of a civilization whose time has already passed, a civilization still clinging to an old dream of revenge you're never going to fulfill." Finished the knight with cold animosity in her voice. Normally, this was the point she would have felt some shred of pity for her opponents, even those of the Empire, but this woman before her wasn't one worthy of pity. Nor were the rest of her kind in Catherine's eyes.
A mouthful of blood was spat out as formerly wide-eyes narrowed into silts. "You…so, I take it that vile spawn of the goddess told you all? She told you all of how that accursed Fell Star ruined us!? Ruined Fódlan?!"
An angry knot formed on the woman's face, an instinct response to hearing her loved ones spoken about in a manner. Her first impulse was to draw her sword and use it to splint the Gremory's head clean in half, but she repressed the urge. All she did was reach back and draw out a pair of dark metallic handcuffs. "We were told enough, you ruined yourselves, trying to do something as ludicrously stupid as kill the goddess of Fódlan out of little more than spite and arrogance, and even now, thousands of years later you're still at it. I'd honestly have pity for you, if you Agarthans weren't such a depictable lot."
"It was us who ruled this land and brought it to its height, just as it is us who will take it back! The true humans who shall bring about the golden age! What would you, a vile Servant of that false goddess and her hell spawn know?! No, in fact I'd almost say you're worse!" Sneered the downed woman as the blonde moved to bind her arms and legs. Instantly, she felt her magical power come to a screeching halt, not that it was working at one-hundred-percent efficiency after the short beatdown she'd received. "Worse than serving one of the hell spawn…you serve the Fell Star itself, operating as his shield and sword…and from what I hear…his bedwarmer as well. How disgusting."
Eyes cold and focused, the knight's hand shot out, grabbing Pittacus by the throat and bring her face-to-face with the angered blonde. "It's because of that 'Fell Star' that you're still breathing. Were it up to the rest of us, and by that I mean everyone in Fódlan, I'd have cut your ugly head off and been on my way back home." Her gaze suddenly hardened as she dropped the sorceress and faced ahead at the space ahead of her. Highly trained ears picked up the familiar huffing of a horse readying for a charge. Armor clanged as the armored figure burst from the darkness toward her. Far from being unprepared, the knight was ready.
First came an arc-shaped blast of lightning similar to the other slashes she'd fired off. Golden arcs of lightning lit up the axe in the charging knight's hand as he swung it upward, absorbing the attack. Not a second was wasted in responding to the new development. The knight's left arm went to her second sword, a finely crafted silver broadsword whose base lit up as mystical runes suddenly blazed to life, a moment later and the sword itself glowed with a fiery-orange light. Rather than being swung, it was instead stabbed into the ground, one hand still on the hilt while its owners face bent in concentration. From the implanted tip shot fourth a fiery line aimed directly at the approaching knight. A burst of roaring hot flames came soon after knocking the horse and its rider off balance. The latter was caught completely off-guard as he was no doubt least suspecting a magic attack from her of all people.
He responded to her coming charge with speed and ferocity, bringing up his Bolting Axe in an overhead swing in preparation for her attack. Said attack was a combination, the knight's two swords, silver and bone, fire and lightning, being swung parallel to each other.
Lighting up the night was an explosive burst of fire and lightning that ended with a gold-lined axe soaring skyward, an armored body stumbling backwards.
SLISH!
"N…no….no! Impossible! That's impossible!" Screeched the restrained Gremory, blood pouring from her lips and nose. Orange eyes stared straight ahead, unwilling to believe what they'd just witnessed. Illuminated by the blaze of fire and cackling lightning, the female knight turned back to face her. "You…you will pay for that, you bitch!"
"I'd say get up off the ground and give me your best shot, but you already did and look where we are." Proudly laughed the blonde sheathing her two swords back on her hip. The silver sword went into an ordinary sheath, mystical black wrappings materialized around the Heroes Relic as it was returned to its position at the warrior woman's side. She stood in the moonlight, proud and noble as a knight should have been. Pittacus did nothing but glare daggers at her, as if she were trying to strike her down with all of her hatred.
Then her eyes went wide. "Gah!" Her face hit the ground, her body unmoving save the occasional breathing which showed that she was still alive, only far removed from the realm of the waking.
Standing up, the blue-haired Dagda native fixed her partner with something of a smug stare. "I'm impressed."
Catherine raised an eyebrow at her best friend's statement. She could see she was being baited, but she was willing to humor her. "And what, pray tell, are you impressed by? It's not like I've never dealt with armored enemies or enemies carrying thunder-oriented weaponry forcing me to improvise."
To hear a laugh come out of the mouths of the best archer in the Knights of Seiros was an incredibly rare thing. Granted, it had become a bit more…commonplace since the end of the war with the Empire; it was yet another unexpected but highly appreciated change that had swept across the land. Catherine sure wasn't complaining about it, even if her bow-user friend's amusement came at her expanse. Most of the time.
This seemed to be one such time. "Not that, I'll be honest and say it's your restraint that really surprised me. Here I was worried I'd have to step in as soon as they started talking smack about Rhea and Byleth causing you to blow your top off. Instead…" Her purple eyes swept across the surroundings, which none the worse for wear save for two burning craters connected by a "blaze line" that stretched across a good ten feet or so. Finally, there was the remains of what had once but a storage warehouse that lay in ruins off to the side, albeit its destruction couldn't be entirely leveled at the blonde knight. "This was pretty tame, compared to what you could have done."
Again, she could see she was being baited, yet she jumped anyway. "Which was?"
"Burn the entire block down in a hailstorm of lightning and kill everyone thereby invalidating what our original mission was, which was capturing some of these people." Shamir answered in a nonchalant tone that was her trademark.
Catherine regarded her best friend with an annoyed stare. She felt a heated response on the tip of her tongue, but she held it back in favor of continuing to do her job, which was subduing the targets for interrogation. Pulling out a second pair of handcuffs, she locked them around the wrists of the groaning Great Knight she'd unseated then wounded with her dual swords. He groaned, cuffing up blood as he regained his vision and stared up at her. All Catherine did was sneer at him, even when insults began to fly from his mouth. She silenced him with a punch to the side of the head, that was how she relieved herself.
In the distant came the sound of hooves and boots clattering against the ground. The two female knights looked up just in time to see the rest of their platoon piling in. Torches went up revealing Imperial resistance fighters being pulled from the wreckage, and restrained upon so. One knight strutted over to them, dismounting off his horse and marching over to survey the damage down to the outside. He whistled.
"Duncan, don't you start." Catherine snarled.
The male brunette raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Start what? Honestly, Catherine, I have no idea what is it you're talking about."
Shamir's lips twitched upward into a smirk.
"Okay, now that business is done, I'm heading back to base! Call me if something major happens like a Demonic Beast is on the loose or something!"
Nine times out of ten, Catherine enjoyed being a knight and all that came with it, yet there were also times when even she needed a break. Usually that time came when having to put up with her comrades, who themselves were quite a colorful bunch, not that she hated that fact. Quite the opposite, still, for an elite fighting force they tended to enjoy their gossip a tad too much. In the aftermath of the war there'd been a lot to talk about. One such topic being her. Regrettably, she'd be the center topic over the next several weeks, months even.
I vowed never to return to Faerghus partially so I'd never have to go back to court life, yet look at me now. Seems like I just traded one for another.
At the very least this life was one where she could be excused for drinking her fill, and whacking away at practice dummies as a form of stress relief. It wasn't all bad, especially since she knew at the end of it all there was something, or rather someone very special waiting for her.
She had no idea how literally that last part was when she returned to her assigned residence.
"Um…hi, er, welcome…back?"
Saying welcome home wouldn't have exactly worked as this wasn't their home. It was an assigned apartment space allotted to the Knights of Seiros during their stay in the city of Raetia, north of the Adrestian capital of Enbarr and south of Garreg Mach Monastery. The distance between the city and the latter was relatively short, save for the mountains and it could be reached in two days or on foot and horseback meaning it was no surprise that the Ashen Demon had made the trip. And in such secrecy to boot.
Catherine was far from displeased to see her fiancé. "You know, if you'd shown up sooner we could have gone out for drinks or something." The statement came out with more than a noticeable ring of nervousness as she began to unfasten the straps of her armor and holsters for her weapons. This was without a doubt a scene that could ignite a scandal, the future Archbishop of Fódlan appearing in the room of one of his knights, whom he was also secretly in love with and had plans to marry. Never mind how he got in in the first place, Catherine knew that the minty-haired swordsman could move like the wind when he wanted to.
Byleth's lips curved upward into a smile as he walked over to help her. Catherine ceased her motives, letting Byleth finish up what she started. In a heartbeat, she threw her arms around him, burying herself in his embrace. She took in a whiff of his scent, just as he did to her.
"You're happy to see me." Laughed the Enlightened One.
"Brilliant deduction." She whispered back.
"How'd the mission go? Are you alright? Are you hurt in any way?" Came his soft questioning.
Catherine nuzzled the nap of his neck. "Still thinking about me over the mission, you never change, do you? Not that I want you to." There was a brief chuckle accented by him tenderly rubbing her back. The moment she'd seen him, Catherine felt all he defenses and fighting instincts shut off, like a candle that had been blown out. "I'm fine, though I can't say the same for the Agarthans we came across. For the record, I was…well, I'd like to think I held myself back."
"Heh, you say that like you're worried I'm going to Shamir or any of the other knights and get a different story." Catherine pulled back and attempted to look away from him, a cute blush building on her face. All Byleth did was laugh, causing the blush to deepen. He was one of the only two people who could do this-disarm the mighty Thunder Catherine and reduce her to a smitten school girl. "I'm glad that you're alright." He finally said, giving her reason to look to him.
"No way I would ever allow myself to get injured on an easy mission like this." Chirped the knight with a wink and a smile.
"Really?" Pressed her divine lover. Gone was her silver armor leaving her clad in only her cream-colored tunic. "Even if it meant being treated by me?"
Crimson exploded across her cheeks. A combination of his words and the position of his hands were enough to make her normally firm and agile legs turn wobbly. Yet another indicator that her warrior heart had been won by another, and arguably the last person whom such a thing could ever be expected. Faintly, the knight heard the soft patter of rain outside. It seemed that she'd either lost control of her Crest or the goddess was playing a game with her. Neither option seemed too outlandish, not that whichever one it was stopped her. Briefly, she gave her young love a glare that crumbled as she leaned forward pressing their lips together. She was the aggressive one as she'd been longing to get her hands on him. Byleth readily returned her embrace, tightening his arms around her waist and hoisting her up. This wasn't something that Catherine was used to-being swept up in the arms of another, particularly in the bedroom. She was all too happy that the one doing it was Byleth.
Neither of them could have ever predicted this was where their paths would lead. In all honesty, a part of the Ashen Demon and thunder-wielding knight believed their roads would intersect with their swords at each other's throats. As time passed, that possibility became less and less likely, finally cementing into outright impossible at the first Battle of Garreg Mach. They stood side by side as comrades defending the monastery and its residents against the oncoming army of Adrestia. Five long years of separation hadn't dented that bond, if anything, it might have strengthened it.
Beyond the walls around them, rain had descended upon the city of Raetia forcing its residents indoors. Arguably the future Archbishop of Fódlan was to blame for that, he had after all set off a woman whose Crest governed the stormy skies. He'd never disliked the rain, but he never really felt a strong attachment to it either. That had changed as he fought beside and befriend the legendary Thunder Catherine. She told him that the Crest of Charon always invited rain where ever its bearers went. Byleth wasn't too surprised by that, especially given some of the…details regarding where Crests had truly come from. The rain made for relaxing music to him, especially as he lay back in bed with the woman he loved in his arms.
"I actually came to help personally in building the hospital. I figured it'd be a good first start to mending the damage done by the war." He started staring up at the darkened ceiling.
"That's what I figured, to be honest with you, it's why I decided to personally supervise this mission. I wanted to clear things out before you got here." As had been verified at the meeting between strangling Imperials, her fiancé's head was a much-desired item, especially in what was currently occupied Imperial territory. They'd been dead-on in identifying him as the reason the war had undergone such a massive reversal ending with the Kingdom of Faerghus' victory and Adrestia's defeat. Catherine herself had heard much of the whispers praising and cursing Byleth. He couldn't step foot into the land of Adrestia without having to worry about a knife or arrow to the throat. Which was exactly why she'd taken her job more seriously than she ever had, or rather, her new job. "Promise me you won't go off on any reckless ventures without telling me."
"If I did, I can imagine how things would go." He mused with an easy-go smile that made the blonde knight giggle.
"Me riding to your rescue," She interpreted.
"Then chewing me out of not telling you what I was doing or where I was going. Just like a wife should." Byleth added with a wistfully smile.
"Yep, a nice kiss to the ass before I drag you back home and make you promise to never do that sort of thing again. Exactly how a wife should be." Her laugh was as vibrant as the sun which had retreated from the world. "I suppose I'll help out tomorrow, it'll be a nice change of pace to be honest. Hehe, look at me, I've gone a knight to now helping out with building projects."
"You say that like you've done repair work." Slyly retorted the minty-haired warrior. "I definitely remember a certain someone helping out when we all regrouped back at the monastery, even working way into the night along with Cyril to help restore the monastery to even a shadow of what it once was."
"Huh-uh." Responded the knight turning over to face him with amusement cackling in her eyes. "I seem to remember a certain someone watching me during that reconstruction work, especially when I was showing some skin."
The Ashen Demon answered her accusing smirk with one of his own. "Funny coming from the woman who stalked me throughout the monastery and occasionally threw practice weapons and eventually even dinner plates at me."
"And you dodged them all with so little fanfare. Just proves that I chose right."
His arm wrapped around her waist bringing her in close. Catherine looped both of her arms around his neck, her face burying into the crux of his neck where she quietly dozed off seconds later. Byleth remained awake for a few moments longer, his mind heavy with thoughts of the past days' events and what would be in store of them in the future. He tried not to be fearful of the future, but there were times when he couldn't help but feel a ripple of unease. Arm still wrapped around his love's waist, her body cuddling up against his, he turned his gaze to the window to his far right. Watching the hundreds of rain drops collide against the window brought him a sense of ease, as well as reminded him of how exactly he came to this current predicament.
We end one war…but find ourselves on the threshold of another, one that began thousands of years before any of us were even born. Moving his free hand across the sheets, he placed his warm palm over his center chest. He didn't have a heartbeat in the conventional sense, Crest Stones didn't quite work the same way that human hearts did. Or at least the Crest Stone of Sothis didn't, it was on another level compared to the others of its kind. There was still so much that he wanted to know, needed to know. That was one reason why he didn't quite dread the future, yet he made sure to take the time to enjoy the present for all it was worth. The good, the bad, and…everything in between.
Two Weeks ago, Garreg Mach Monastery
"Ag..artha?" Questioned the still freshly-crowned King of Faerghus looking to the Archbishop and her assistant with puzzled eyes. He wasn't the only one who held an expression of confusion as he struggled to process the information, Ferdinand and Lorenz, representatives of their respective domains were equally as puzzled as him. So too was Catherine, who stared at her self-appointed charge with wide eyes.
The only outlier was of course, the Ashen Demon himself. He quietly looked over the documents that had been handed out with calculating eyes and a shut mouth. Several eyes glanced his way, having taken note of his silence. Least of all were Catherine, who sat right beside her secret fiancé and of course, the Archbishop herself. The look she was giving him could only be described as partial shame mixed with a dab of curiosity. Out of all those who'd come to know him, the light-green-haired woman was a tad better at reading him beyond his stoic façade. In many ways, he was quite like his father, albeit at times less expressive. That had changed somewhat over time as he interacted with people, as he learned to truly cherish them.
Based on what he read, those people were still at risk. "So, now we have names and identities regarding who it was that helped Edelgard along, or rather, who pushed her into all of this."
"But still…Lady Rhea, with all due respect…this story is…it's…" Ferdinand spoke, his eyes wide as he looked between the Archbishop and Seteth. The latter in particular held his attention as the revelation of the man's true identity had hit him a tad harder than he'd expected. It wasn't often one was able to meet their ancestor, or more accurately, the Saint who had donated blood to his ancestor allowing for him to fight the Fell King and his allies. "I'll be blunt, if you shall forgive me, I bemoan the fact that these…people chose to take root within the Empire." He spoke with an air of gloom as his head fell.
Lorenz looked to his orange counterpart with sympathy in his eyes. While the war had been hard on them all, for the aspiring noble, it had hit with all the force of a comet. His lifelong rival declaring war on the Church of Seiros and practically the rest of Fódlan which escalated into a five and half year long torturous run resulting in thousands of deaths, including that of his own father. Now, what lay before them was one prime piece of the puzzle that they all had been missing, perhaps the most important piece.
Dimitri spared his war-time comrade and political ally a look of sympathy as well before choosing to speak up. "If I may, I believe the purpose might be to hide in plain sight. Rarely does one look for danger in their own backyard, that seems to be how these Agarthans operated."
"Just don't tell me that they planned all of this a thousand years in advanced. That's way too much to swallow." Groaned Catherine. She'd kept up with it all well enough: an ancient civilization that challenged the goddess and was predictably crushed. The problem was they weren't crushed completely thus they persisted. "Did they seriously just wait a thousand years to act?"
"No, if anything, it took a thousand years for things to reach a point where they could act, or get someone to act on their behalf." Finally spoke the Ashen Demon catching everyone's attention. All eyes went to Byleth Eisner as he finally rose his head, his dark eyes focused and his face serious. This was an extremely common occurrence, his voice resounding like a bell catching the attention of all in the room. "The skirmish in Hrym leading to House Ordelia's fall from grace, the presumable first start of this…Crest experimentation." His eyes swiftly went to Lorenz, who regrettably nodded his head. Next, Byleth moved his attention to Ferdinand. He didn't like where things were going, but the noble remained resolute as he gave his confirmation. "That leads to the Insurrection of the Seven which forces Edelgard and her mother to flee to Faerghus."
"After which…the Tragedy of Duscur is plotted and…carried out." Near growled Dimitri. "Yes, I see…afterwards Edelgard and her uncle return to Adrestia-"
"Albeit by then, it's entirely possible that Arundel had already been replaced. I double-checked the records. His donations to the Church came to a sudden stop around that time." Byleth cut in.
"I agree, for all we know, after fleeing Adrestia, Lord Arundel could have already been swopped out with…this…Thales character." Affirmed Seteth. Much like everyone else, he was less than pleased at having to revisit such sore topics, perhaps more so as this was the same nightmare that had plagued his people thousands of years ago, and it hadn't died out like he and his sister had hoped. "All of this leads to a perfect storm-"
"Aided by my…inaction." There was no hardness in Rhea's voice, only a somber tone that drew the focus of all others. Looks of sympathy were directed her way, especially by the two blondes and the boy she'd placed all of her hopes in. Briefly, she ducked her head as she knew she didn't deserve their pity, she didn't deserve any of it. "While I was held captive in the Empire, I managed to glean some pieces of information, namely that Thales, the leader of the surviving Agarthans, had likely taken Arundel's place. That no doubt would have given him direct contact with royal family. The same family that I…shared my blood with." Her stomach rumbled in disgust at the realization of what had been carried out to the descendants of one of the few people she'd ever call a friend. All right under her nose.
"But still, how much of this did my father know of? Surely someone must have known something as we're staring at the documentation here!" Thundered Ferdinand feeling a wave of righteous fury wash over him. Though he still grieved for his father, he couldn't help but curse him at the same time, him and the other nobles who'd taken part in the Insurrection. What had seemed like a mere political coup they now knew had given way to something more darker.
Byleth raised his hand, quietly calming down his former student. "How much of that, we're still looking into. Just what we have now only came about from cross-examining and combing through hundreds of records and sources. We're still trying to figure who in Faerghus played a hand in the Tragedy of Duscur. It's likely it'll be another year before we have a complete picture of what really happened."
"And in the meantime, these Agarthans are still out there somewhere, plotting." Catherine growled.
"Perhaps not." Cut in Dimitri. "When we stormed the Imperial Palace, after we slew an enemy mage, a good number of other mages fled, all of them bearing clothing similar to his. I believe his name was Myson, right, Professor?"
An affirmative nod came. The mysterious mages guarding the Palace had been the toughest hurdle for them to overcome. It'd taken him three Divine Pulses in order for him to come up with a firm battle plan that wouldn't result in all of them getting killed before reaching the throne room. "It was. After his death the others pulled back, I remember some claiming that they couldn't afford to sacrifice anymore of their forces and that they still had a goal to accomplish."
"But what is that goal? The elimination of all the people of Fódlan? Sounds more like a madman's fantasy more than anything." Stated Lorenz.
"That's arguably not too far off." Offered the one-eyed ruler of Faerghus, and at the moment, all of Fódlan. "What we're discussing is an ancient people who grew so arrogant they attempted to challenge the goddess herself and were driven deep underground. Such rage, such hatred…it does not die easily. It can no doubt fester for years, eons apparently. If anything, seeing that Edelgard was making her last stand, these Agarthans decided that they could expand no more forces on a doomed venture and pulled back."
"But to where though? As long as sure a group exists Fódlan can't know true peace." Argued Ferdinand. "From what we can gather we slew their leadership, Dimitri, you yourself slew this Thales man while Professor Byleth cut down this mage named Myson."
"And five years before that we killed Solon." Added the Ashen Demon crossing his arms. "I'm tempted to say we killed most of their upper leadership, albeit unknowingly." A rare smile graced the swordsman's face. Even he couldn't be a tad amused at the cosmic irony of it all. In the pursuit of one goal they'd accomplished another, yet that didn't mean they could rest entirely easy. "Using what we have here, we'll put together something of an investigative force. Something tells me that the Agarthans won't make a move until they've regained more of a foothold. As it stands, every major power in Fódlan has been depleted in terms of fighting strength meaning covert actions are what will be the deciding factor."
"Unfortunately for us, these Agarthans have become quite proficient at such actions." Noted Seteth. "Thinking of the worst-case scenario is that every person in this room is targeted. No, an attempt is made on every person here." Tension tightened around the room with the words of the Wyvern Lord and newly revealed Saint. Assembled in this chamber was the Archbishop of Fódlan, her chosen successor, the king of Faerghus and currently a united Fódlan, the future prime minister of Adrestia, the highest-ranking representative of the Leicester Alliance, and a few of the highest-ranking knights. If any of them were to fall to assassin's blade, or worst, all of them, the continent would be plunged headlong into hell.
The swordsman's hands shifted through the piles of official and classified documents, all of which had been confiscated in the aftermath of the final battle at the Imperial Palace. "Look, nothing good will come of sitting here and freighting over plots that may or may not come to pass. A war just ended so we all know that they're targets on our heads, some more so than others." Everyone knew exactly who the Ashen Demon was indicating towards. Said person remained as poised and focused as one would have expected a king to be. "At best, we can only proceed with caution from here on out. We know for a fact that while these Agarthans may be able to duplicate physical appearances, they can't replicate behavior as every case of…kill-and-replace-"
"A surprisingly catchy name." Mused Dimitri, who was taking the news rather well. His example was perhaps one to be followed.
"So anyone who suddenly starts behaving strangely is to be watched, and if they're caught sneaking around…well, I'd say restrain but don't kill." That of course drew some attention, especially from the two members of the table sporting pointy ears. Quickly, the former mercenary raised his hand. "Now look, I know everyone has their own personal thoughts and feelings, but we have to be a bit practically about this. Namely the classic case of sword to the chest isn't going to solve these problems, at least not in the long term. We only partially discovered this information from performing autopsies on Arundel and Cornelia which revealed some…revealing details that we otherwise would have missed."
Seteth's lips momentarily curved upward in a smile of approval. "Respectfully, Byleth, without you, those autopsies never would have occurred at all."
"Without you, none of us would be standing here." Added Ferdinand. "Professor Byleth, perhaps you could supervise the investigation?"
"Unfortunately, that won't be possible. Byleth's already got a lot on his plate to deal with." Commented Catherine. "First off all, Lady Rhea still has some to put him through some training so he can inherit the position of Archbishop next, second, putting him at the forefront of this will make him more of a target."
"Catherine, our dear Professor is already a target, for he is the one whom the Agarthans hate more than anyone." Spoke the exhausted but still very commanding voice of the Archbishop. Little over a month had passed since the Archbishop's liberation from the Imperial Dungeons where she'd been starved, poked, prided, and mentally tortured to the point she looked more ghost than mortal when the Faerghus-Alliance-Church army had arrived stormed in to save her. Time had done some good in allowing her to recover, at the very least she was able to attend meetings such as this; granted, this was one such meeting that Rhea knew she had to attend. In fact, she'd helped put it together. "Our Professor bears the Crest of Flames, bestowed upon him by the goddess Sothis herself."
"The same goddess these Agarthans attempted to strike down." Mused Lorenz giving said professor an aside glance. The picture had come together, but it was still an overall grisly sight. It was unclothe to admit so in front of his friends and comrades, but secretly Lorenz was glad that amongst all the shadowy manipulations unacted by these ancient revenants none had touched the Leicester Alliance. Or at least none they knew of. "Not to mention his arrival single-handedly turned the entire war around thus ruining their years' long plan."
"And all of that wouldn't have happened if I weren't in Remire Village…just as Edelgard attempted to have you all killed. Talk about stupid luck." Wistfully mused the Ashen Demon.
"Luck…or perhaps the will of the goddess." Offered Rhea with a tentative smile that was shared by those around the table. It was most certainly shared by Catherine, who stole an aside glance at the swordsman's way. Said swordsman nervously smiled as he returned Rhea's glance. A little in-joke between the two of them. "Moreover, Byleth is right. Worrying over what might be is irrelevant, nor will it do us any good."
"I agree, all we can do is focus on the presence, which is what's happening now." Dimitri seconded. "At best we can do as previously laid out, observe those around us for anything out of the ordinary. From what we know, these…people-"
"I've heard some call them mole-people." Byleth chirped in.
"Hey, the name kind of fits." Seconded Catherine.
"Won't be as reckless as to make a move now that they've been weakened, at least not a frontal move. If anything, they'll merely piggy-back onto the backs of others." Continued the one-eyed king.
"The Imperial remnants." Ferdinand theorized. "I've actually had some of my own knights planted into the resistance movement to feed us information. Things are…quite desperate, I believe so desperate that they will seek out these Agarthans for aid, especially if they believe they can use them to get at us."
"There's a high chance that the monstrosity that Edelgard turned herself into was thanks to their aid." Noted the blond king, his lone left eye shutting in sober remembrance of the heinous form his stepsister had taken. "Ferdinand, can you keep us updated on what your spies pick up?"
"Of course, though I must say, this is…perhaps going to be a bit more than what they bargained for. All of this is more than what I bargained for." Explained the orange-haired noble.
"That's an understatement." Mused the female blonde at the table. As far as she was concerned, these Agarthans, these remnants, they were just another enemy, albeit one more akin to a poisonous serpent than lumbering beast like the Adrestian Army had been. "Speaking of, the Knights of Seiros have an investigation scheduled over the next week or so. I suppose we'll have to be on the lookout for anything unusual."
"I pray this investigation will go smoothly, but at this point, I've learned to be…ready for anything as they say."
Anything, yes, that was the word. Of all the assembled souls in the room, none of them ever thought this was where they would be, yet here they would. Life was strange and even merciful like that as some never thought they'd be alive to talk of leadership and future planning. The future was something they all looked forward then, even as they lived and worked to maintain the present.
The meeting let out less than half an hour later. Discussion was heavy as much had been brought forth, namely secrets that could shake all of Fódlan to its foundations. Certainly the revelation that ancient civilizations existed in the distant past and persisted would have been enough to rile up the mind.
Still, not all topics of discussion were quite so serious, some of them were different, involving topics completely unrelated to heavy revelations.
"So, is this the part where you tell me to be careful?" Catherine began giving her lover a sideways glance.
"Pretty sure I should be telling you that because as one of the Knights of Seiros and arguably the most famous, I'd say you're a prime target." He kindly retorted. It was the same tower they'd met at close to a year ago, when they'd all reconvened at Garreg Mach Monastery. Oh, how things had changed.
Catherine pressed her lips. "They may be able to copy my appearance, but they can't copy my Crest thus my ability to wield Thunderbrand. Two things that…well…I don't want to say they entirely make up my identity, but they're a pretty big part of it. If either was missing then everyone would know that something's up. You would."
"True, I pay attention to you pretty closely." Chirped the male swordsman.
The female knight laughed while leaning against his shoulder, his arm automatically wrapping around her shoulders. Catherine didn't exactly consider herself good at flirty, or at least "normal" flirting, that was Manuela and even her escapades were…debatable. Fortune smiled upon her as she'd found a man who did all the flirting, even if he claimed he had no idea how to flirt.
She never thought she'd treasure another person so dearly as much as she did Rhea. Speaking of which, Catherine couldn't help but feel that there was something else untold of in the meeting. More than once did she catch the looks the two minty-haired individuals shot one another. On one hand, she felt like she knew a tad more about why her lady had been so interested in her fiancé, yet Catherine knew there was more than wasn't being told. Oddly, she was at peace with that, maybe because as far as she was concerned, she knew all that she needed to know.
"Having heard all of that, I want you to know that I'm going to be watching you." Started the blond.
"You already do that." Laughed the light-using magic swordsman.
"You know what I'm saying. You've got angry mole-people after you so I'll have to be twice as vigilant." Clarified the female knight. "Before you say anything, I'm taking all of this as best I can, as far as I'm concerned, it really doesn't change much. Not my views on Lady Rhea, Seteth, Flayn, and definitely not my views on you." There can a brief laugh at part. "Okay, if I'm honest, it kind of does. Now I know I spent all that time at the monastery trying to compete with a guy literally blessed by the goddess. Now I just feel stupid."
A hearty laugh escaped the normally stoic young adult's lips, a welcome sound that Catherine and the rest of the Monastery's inhabitants had come to treasure. "If it's all the same, I'd prefer it if you still looked at me like I was a normal guy."
"Well, no offense, but you're not a normal guy. You're a special one…a…very special one. One that I vow to keep alive at all costs."
Moments like this belonged to the two of them. Out of sight from the rest of their comrades and friends, it was just them. Both of their respective identities were reduced to one-word, one-name, descriptions: Byleth and Catherine. That's how they'd gotten to know one another, and it's how they wanted things to continue for as long as they could.
"So…have you…told anyone about…you know?" He nervously asked flicking his gaze down to her left hand, barefoot of her combat gloves and gauntlets. Glittering in the light of the evening sun shined the ring he'd given the knight, his mother's ring.
"I was going to tell some place like Shamir, but after that talk I…" She answered looking away from him.
"…Maybe in a week or so?"
Catherine grinned at the former teacher, then brought her arms around his neck in a fiery kiss he instantly returned. Yes, without a doubt, come what may she would do all in her power to keep this man alive. His arms looped around her waist as an indicator the promise went both ways. To many, she was just a knight, but to Byleth, Catherine was more, and would continue to be more even when he formally assumed his title of Archbishop.
Briefly, he wondered how the others would take the announcement when they finally broke the news. He looked forward to seeing the looks of shock on their faces, especially Ingrid and Sylvain.
And there's the first chapter of this little mini-series. Now most of this is headcanon as while those who slither in the dark aren't ever directly addressed on the Azure Moon route, there's little reason to think that they wouldn't be as they'd likely make some sort of counter attack in the near future after regaining their strength. Or as discussed in this chapter, piggy-backing off of someone else's revenge plot. Rhea and Seteth revealing a little more about Fódlan's true history and who's been behind the scenes making all their lives hell felt like a natural extension of that. Now, they haven't quite revealed everything, that's going to come in latter chapters, namely those centered on Byleth, Catherine, and Rhea when the three sit down for a long awaited talk.
Until next chapter!