So, how's everyone doing?

Lucina: Curious to see where this goes.

Severa: Yeah, it's not every day you get to see what your aunt had to go through before the war ended.

7: Very true. Alright, I'll need some help though.

Lucina: With what?

7: I need someone to go set up the tapestries in one of the scenes. Can I trust either of you to do that?

Severa: Oh, right, those things. Sorry about Dad, he got sick.

7: No worries, but can you do it?

Severa: No problem! Come on Lucy, we can get ice cream later!

*Severa drags Lucina away*

7: Ok, now that that's getting set up, let's get to it!

Heart of Ice

If Sumia were to describe her mother, it would take her some time.

First, her mother's name was Selena Pons de Clarissa, the family name taken from her father, Patrick Pons de Clarissa. Second, Sumia was a near perfect replica of her mother, only her hair was long and styled in waves, her mother's was short and straight.

Sumia also had no wrinkles and her hair color came from her father. Selena had light brown hair with a hint of ginger at the roots.

Beyond that, Selena had been a stern, but kind woman that had long held Sumia's best interests in mind. Whilst she'd never been in the military, Selena had made herself at home in the court of the former Duchess and helped her clumsy husband from the shadows.

That mask she'd mastered in the games of nobility was on full display now, her eyes dispassionately gazing at her only daughter. "What say you, dear girl? Surely your time with the exile has not dampened your sensibilities."

Sumia felt old conditioning take over, lessons from a lifetime ago returning from the dead.

She curtsied, feeling both her mother and the few remaining nobles in the hall approve of the gesture. "I apologize for my unseemly entrance, Regent."

Her mother tapped on the throne, the clack loud in the otherwise silent hall. "Unseemly indeed. Surely, you did not think I would cause harm to my own daughter, let alone the first Clarissian Exalt in two centuries."

Sumia felt sweat gather on her brow, unnerved by the murmurs around her. "Excuse me, Regent, but what do you mean? The next Exalt is Prince Chrom, not I."

More murmurs, though they quieted at a signal Sumia could not see. "It is former Prince Chrom. Both the High Cleric and Bishop of Gariel have declared him and his sister as unfit to rule in our current time of crisis. Duke Carlan is to take the throne for a time until a new Exalt may be crowned."

Sumia saw her mother stand, but could only see her feet as she held the curtsy. "That is enough, child, raise your head."

Sumia did so, almost flinching at the cold smile on her mother's face. "I have already spoken to those who understand the edicts of the church. They have agreed to let you, my child, take the throne when everything is over."

Selena stepped up to Sumia and embraced her, the motion cold as if practiced for this very moment. In that moment, Sumia stopped thinking of the woman before her as her mother.

This was a stranger, a dangerous one at that. But it was in both her and Ylisse's best interest that she continue to play along. "I…see. That is a momentous decision; surely it could not have been unanimously decided."

Selena sighed into her ear. "Of course not. There are those still loyal to the Exile, Dunwall and Miranda foremost among them. Catarnia refuses to move out of Grevis, but she's always been a fence-sitter."

She pulled back and smiled that false smile again. "But, we shall take care of them in due time. For now, I believe you should retire to your rooms. You surely need the time to think."

Sumia nodded mutely, mind struggling to catch up. Selena called for Draven to escort her from the hall and the last Sumia saw of her was her back.

Once they were in the halls again, Sumia spoke. "Tell me what actually happened."

Draven grunted. "I already did. Poison caught the duchess and her family with their knickers down and they died real quick. Wolfsbane was the culprit, if you want to know, but the entire case is cut and dry."

Sumia snorted, uncaring of the scandalized gaze a passing maid gave her. "Nothing's cut and dry outside of novels. I want to know what happened, and to see my friends at that."

Draven sighed, the hesitance she'd seen in his frame earlier making its way into his voice. "Milady… that's not possible. Your mother has ordered myself and the guards to keep you in your rooms. The only guests allowed are your mother and your maids, and the only times you're allowed out is during meals or official appearances."

Sumia shook her head. "Then I am indeed a prisoner, and I will be used as a tool for all my days. Tell me, Draven, does that sound like the idea of a mother that cares for her child?"

Draven shrugged, his armor clanking. "Ma'am, I'm in no position to judge. My own mother didn't care all that much for me, and I only found friends when I got into the guard. For all I know, that's how she shows she cares."

Sumia grimaced. "I suppose so… say, when did you join the guard?"

They were in front of Sumia's door now, Draven taking a deep breath. "I joined ten years ago. Now, I can't answer any more questions. Your mother will likely come speak with you later, either here or at dinner. Have a good night, milady."

Draven politely opened the door, but remained silent when Sumia tried to demand he answer more questions. Huffing, Sumia entered the chamber and waited for the door to close. Now that she was alone, Sumia marched to the mantle and unwrapped Gae Bolg, nodding when she found the blade pristine.

Ok, I've tested this blade on just about everything. But, let's check the windows first.

Doing just that, Sumia found the hinges gave way easily. Looking out, she gulped. Ok, I'm in one of the high towers… wait, maybe I can make this work.

Looking to the bed in the room, Sumia lifted her skirts and marched into the adjoining rooms. Ignoring the couches in the next room and the tea set that had been prepared, Sumia opened one door and grinned at the full closet of fine clothes and towels.

Perfect. Now, I just need patience…

Sumia knew that enacting this plan out of hand was grounds for her to be captured all over again. While she was here, she may as well probe for any information she could find.

Leaving the closet, Sumia took a seat on one of the couches and smoothed her dress.

Right as she did so, the door opened and in walked Selena. "Sumia, we have much to talk about."

Sumia smiled, a dead mask from her childhood settling into place.

"Indeed we do."

-Cherche-

Naga her head hurt.

Cherche groaned as sense returned to her mind, a dull throb coming from the back of her skull. Thankfully, it was the only source of pain, but a chill wind bit at her skin.

Wait a minute… I was in a cloak, and my armor is made to keep me warm when flying.

Slowly opening her eyes to a bleary grey, Cherche blinked a few times before her predicament became clear.

Ah, I'm a prisoner.

She was in nothing more than a simple tunic, her captors at least willing to give her some semblance of dignity. Considering there wasn't a breeze down south, she'd kept her smalls too.

Now that her mind had a firmer grasp on reality, she tested her arms and legs. The legs were free at least, but her arms had been chained above her head and off to the side.

Judging by the ache in her wrists, Cherche had been out of it for a while.

Ok… let's think this through, shall we?

Looking around, Cherche found that her cell was actually very small. Her fingers brushed the walls on either side and the cell door was only a few feet away.

It's not a proper cell; it's more for holding than imprisoning.

Using her ears this time, Cherche could hear a conversation further down the hall.

"So, you think the little missus will actually do it?"

Cherche heard an unsure grunt. "Don' know. She's been with the exile, what, six years now? I heard from one of her old maids that she has quite a crush on the guy."

Footsteps and jangling metal started up a moment later, the conversation growing closer. "Well, Lady Selena seems pretty sure. She even told us to stop patrolling so much."

The other voice was almost next to Cherche. "Can't say for sure. I mean, why would anyone want to be exalt when one misstep gets you declared an enemy of the country? I think the clergy are nuts."

By then, two guards walked into view, pausing when they saw Cherche staring at them. The one on the left coughed awkwardly. "Oh, 'ello love. Sorry 'bout the rough treatment earlier, it was my neck or yers."

Cherche glared at him. "So, you're the craven that hit me. How dare you attack a lady from behind."

The man shrugged helplessly. "Now-now, none o' that. Orders are orders, but we made sure the ladies changed ya. We won't harm you, not when you're friends with the missus."

Cherche narrowed her eyes. "Oh, and who is this missus? I only know one girl who you could refer to and Sumia's only a simple count's daughter."

The two men exchanged looks before the one on the right spoke. "Well… technically she's the next in line to Clarissa's throne and the agreed replacement for the exalt. It's real complicated, so we ain't gonna bore ya."

Cherche raised a brow. "Truly? Last I heard the exalt had two siblings, both of whom have greater claim than Sumia."

Both guards looked distinctly uncomfortable, the one that had punched her messing with the end of his beard. "Look, lady, we don't question things like this. Our job is to make sure the people in town are safe and scumbags stay locked up. By Naga we'll do that, no matter who's in charge."

Cherche almost smiled. "How gallant. Tell me, what are your names?"

The two men looked at each other before the one on the right started. "I'm James. Sorry we had to meet like this, you seem really nice."

The one that attacked her went next. "Name's Bartholomew, though most call me Barty. Again, real sorry for smackin' ya. I'll buy ya a drink when this gets sorted out."

Cherche smiled. "That won't buy a lady's forgiveness, but I appreciate the thought. Now, when can I see Sumia? I'd like to speak with her about what's going on."

James scratched his head. "Don't know. General Draven's in charge of her security, so she'll see you when he says you can. Should be pretty soon though, the general's a stand-up guy."

Cherche nodded. "I'm glad to hear it. Also, it pleases me to see that Clarissian soldiers are not animals."

Barty scratched his beard. "Aw, you're too kind. I'm glad you're so amiable to what's going on. Wasn't my first thought, personally, but the general wanted to make sure you weren't dangerous."

James patted Barty's shoulder. "Hey, we need to get back on it."

Barty nodded before bowing slightly. "Terribly sorry, but we need to get back on patrol. We'll be moving you out of those cuffs and into a proper cell in a few hours, but I guarantee you'll be well fed. Just hold out, eh?"

Cherche shook her head. "I'll certainly try, sirs. Um, may I ask where my belongings are?"

James pointed a thumb behind him. "All your stuff is in the guardhouse. Have to say, you had a pair of really fancy axes on ya. One of the maids took them to the lady's study since she wanted to 'keep them safe'."

The words were accompanied by air quotations, Cherche sighed at the sight. "Very well. Good day, gentlemen, I hope we can meet again under better circumstances."

The pair nodded and marched off, leaving Cherche alone again. She smirked once she was sure they were gone.

Friendly chaps, I quite like them. Got some information out of them too, so this capture wasn't fruitless.

Now she just needed to get out, find the chambers of Sumia's mother, who was apparently the Duchess now, and get out. Easier said than done, but working with a number of people that had experience as thieves, assassins, and tricksters had taught her more than a few tricks.

Cherche glanced to the window over her head, noting the low light that made its way in.

Another hour or two and she could start her plan, half-cocked as it was.

Oh, what fun.

-Lon'qu-

Waking up Jayce and Jane had been less than fun.

The couple had taken solid blows to the head and gut, and it took both of them until sunset to come around.

When they did, Lon'qu got right to business. "Sumia and Cherche are gone, the guards got them. I got one name, someone named Draven, and last I saw they were being taken up the hill to the castle. Anything I should know before I go bust them out?"

Jayce got a hold of himself first. "I wouldn't. The castle's built at the very top of the hill and the walls are sheer all the way up. The original builders were paranoid about spies being able to climb in so they shaved every brick until the wall was smooth. Even got a sage to come in and enchant the walls to keep them from weathering."

Jane went next. "All the guards were called back too. A few days ago, a messenger came from Draconis and there was a big uproar in the castle. After that, the soldiers only go as far as the forest, not even bothering with the borders."

Lon'qu nodded. "Ok, now how do you two know all this? I understand Jayce was an old friend of Sumia, but where do you fit in the picture?"

Jane sighed at the question. "I'm from Themis originally. My family moved here when we were young so my mother could take up an open position in Sumia's house. Heavens did the two of us argue, but my mother was hired by the former duchess's son and we had to move. I only met Jayce again when he got hired by the same guy years later."

Lon'qu narrowed his eyes. "Themis huh? Who'd your mother work for before you moved?"

Jane grasped at her skirt. "…Lord Dunwall."

Lon'qu snorted. "Your mother was a spy, that's why you know so much. Let me guess, you're the acting mole for the Duke of Themis-and by extension Surperius as well."

"What?!" Jane gasped. "There's no way, I could be a-"

Jayce laid a hand on her shoulder. "Honey, he's got you pegged. Why would anyone leave a duke's household for a count, especially one of such grand reputation?"

He turned to Lon'qu. "We're both moles. I was approached by a figure called Shade a few weeks ago , saying that there was a conspiracy against the Exalted family and by extension Sumia. I didn't believe him at first, but after the announcement by the church, they found me again."

Jane took over. "I was there this time, and Shade mentioned that the Chain had been rattled by the announcement and the duke had approached one of the 'distributers' as they call the ones who order the others around. He wanted spies in the provinces that had agreed to the call, and we just so happened to be perfect."

Lon'qu took a deep breath. "Ok… that's not too surprising. So, are there any plans I should be aware of?"

Jayce and Jane shared a look, Jayce eventually adopted a smile. "Actually… there is."

Lon'qu crossed his arms, a smirk of his own forming as their plan filled his mind.

Looks like he'd be slicing through metal alright.

It'd just be chains instead of plate.

-Sumia-

When the door closed behind Selena, Sumia almost immediately slumped in her chair and started to cry.

The words that woman had spoken in no way resembled the mother that she once knew, the one that she'd named her steed after. Her words had been cold, calculating, and above all condescending.

The entire time they'd been together, Sumia had not once felt like a daughter talking to her mother. Instead, she'd felt like a naughty servant getting reprimanded and sniffed at by a cruel mistress.

What had happened since they'd last seen each other?

Oh, Naga, and the things she said about me and the others…

Selena had gladly spelled out the plan for Sumia, apparently secure in her ability to keep the younger woman under control. Carlan had never wanted the throne of the Exalt, only to keep his own skin and run Draconis towards what he viewed as its future.

Instead, he'd been killed by a young marquise by the name of Meredith who'd gone about and convinced both her mother and a young noble by the name of Theodore in Felds to turn on the Exalted family. Meredith apparently had most of the clergy in her pocket if she could make such a promise, but the biggest shock had been how Sumia was supposed to take the throne.

They would fake the Brand of the Exalt.

Sumia didn't know how, or why, but apparently Meredith had shown the ability to convincingly replicate the brand that marked Chrom and his family as the rightful rulers of Ylisse. In four days, Meredith would come and place the fake brand upon Sumia's flesh and she would be declared a member of the line, the sign only appearing due to the strife in the kingdom.

Selena also described what was planned for the exiled siblings when Sumia pointed out the two of them were still far more legitimate than any sudden relation. Chrom was to be killed, much to Sumia's horror, and Lissa would be used to create a truly legitimate heir.

That way, Sumia could be tossed aside if discovered and the heir be raised by the conspirators into a puppet.

The cruelty and sheer audacity of the plan had stunned Sumia into an obedient silence, only nodding her head as Selena had prattled on and on about how they were going to bring Ylisse into a new age and finally rid the world of the accursed Plegians before storming Ferox and taming the wild north.

It was the ravings of a mad woman.

But what hurt Sumia the most, was how callously her own mother had told Sumia the part she was going to be forced to play. If she could not convince the people that she was of exalted blood, then she would be cast to the wolves.

After all, her mother had said, why let such a clumsy girl join the Shepherds if she wasn't going to do what her mother had wanted and marry the prince? At least now she could be of some use.

It was a betrayal that Sumia simply could not comprehend. She knew that her father's death had driven her mother into deep grief, but to lie about the argument she'd had with the duchess and making the poor woman the villain…

It was just too much for Sumia's heart.

Sumia didn't know how long she was there; only that she cried long past the point of tears and was staring despondently at the wall. Eventually, a young maid entered the room and bowed. "Excuse me, Lady Sumia, but I've been asked to assist you in getting ready for dinner."

Sumia stood automatically, silently wondering how she'd ignored the dimming light. "I see. Are there to be guests or is it private?"

She heard the maid gulp. "Y-yes, there will be guests. Um, her ladyship wishes to formally announce your return."

Sumia turned towards the windows, voice cold. "I see… very well, you may assist me. However, I will choose my own wardrobe."

She could almost hear the maid cringe as she spoke. "Um…her ladyship has requested you wear something very specific."

Sumia almost scoffed. Somewhere, deep in her mind, she was growing scared at how quickly she was turning into this cold, haughty thing. It simply wasn't like her to be so dismissive… or confident for that matter. There had been more than one occasion where the Shepherds had been invited to formal functions and Maribelle had basically bullied her into wearing something.

However, the circumstances demanded that Sumia adopt a mask that she was far less comfortable wearing. Acting like a stereotypical ice queen was not high on her list of priorities, but she could not deny the opportunity set before her.

Lon'qu, please get Cherche and flee from here. Do not come for me.

Resolved, Sumia strode towards the closet in the other room, the maid following her. Her mother wanted a doll, and Sumia would gladly give her one. The hard part would be keeping her heart frozen until the time was right.

A raspy chuckle resounded through her mind, nearly making Sumia jump. "So… you seek to grow cold and harsh? Even if it means your friends and beloved will believe you have betrayed them?"

Sumia was too confused to speak, but the voice continued unabated. "No need to speak, child, I can already see that you are resolved to do as I've said. It is intriguing that one so warm and full of vigor would freeze themselves willingly, so I offer my aid."

Sumia finally gathered enough of her mind to respond, feeling a little silly for talking to a voice in her head. Who… who are you?

The voice cackled, its words as biting as winter's winds. "I am Artezza, Monarch of Winter and Crafter of the First Frost. Your resolve has intrigued me, Sumia de Clarissa, and I eagerly await if you can conquer the cold with which I shall shackle your heart!"

Sumia tried to speak again, but she could feel her limbs and mind grow cold. Emotion that wasn't pure logic or cunning was pushed under a creeping layer of frost and held there, even as Sumia's personality pushed against the change.

The force was too powerful though, a cold rune etched itself into the skin above Sumia's heart. Sumia as her friends knew her was gone, sealed under a blanket of ice that none save her could hope to breach. All that remained were her neglected senses of cunning, logic, and cruelty.

The maid, ignorant to this change, held up a simple gown of light blue silk. "This is the dress, correct milady?"

Sumia turned to face the girl, voice practically freezing the air. "Correct. Now, fetch me everything I'm about to ask for, and I want not one thing out of order."

The maid shivered at the demand, wondering where the despondent woman had gone. "Y-yes milady!"

Sumia started listing what she wanted, each item chosen for an express purpose.

Selena had the doll she wanted for now, but Sumia had one thing that shone through even the enchantment.

Her love for Chrom would not be denied, and she would show it even if she could not say it.

Now,it was all a matter of patience. To finish the plan Sumia had been told, she'd be taken to Ylisstol and presented to the people. Logically, every conspirator would want to be there in order to see if their plan came to fruition, and if it didn't, present an appetizing target for the remaining Shepherds.

It would truly be a moment of triumph… for Sumia, that is.

-Cherche-

The moment the shadows stretched long enough, Cherche enacted her plan.

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Cherche hopped and folded herself up, grimacing as her shoulders popped. Twisting her arms, Cherche was able to put her feet on the ceiling and stare at her bindings.

Ok, the manacles are only secured to some wood. There are a couple of rusted screws, so I should be able to rip this out without too much issue.

Breathing out steadily, Cherche lowered herself back to the ground, silently glad no one was there to see her tunic fall about her shoulders. That was a sight she'd like to reserve for her husband, thank you very much.

Shaking her head, Cherche took a deep breath and started pulling against the metal. The edges bit into her wrists, but she ignored the pain in favor of focusing on the creaking of the weak screws in the wood.

With a groan most unbefitting a woman of her upbringing, Cherche felt the manacles pop from their moorings and her arms shot forward, sending the metal crashing against the stone.

Panting, Cherche heard the guards down the hall shouting about the noise. With only a few moments to spare, Cherche braced herself against the wall and climbed into the small corner to the left of the door. Her arms and legs shook from disuse, but she held herself there as the guards arrived.

"What the-she's gone!"

"She can't be gone you nit-wit, we're fifty feet high and the lot of us were just down the hall!"

Cherche was beginning to wish they'd either leave or open the cell. It was hard enough keeping herself where she was, let alone staying quiet as they babbled.

"That's enough you bloomin' idiots! I'll go check the floor, you lot see if an'thing's odd about the cell. Remember; don't let your guard down!"

Cherche almost smiled. Leave it to Barty if you wanted someone to speak sense around here, or at least stop squawking. Footsteps rumbled away from her cell, but Cherche was most relieved to hear the sound of a key turning a lock.

The cell door swung open and two guards entered. Since it was a small cell, they had to enter single file.

The high ceiling was how she kept herself hidden from their sight in the small cell, and a smirk rose to her lips when the two were right up next to the broken manacles.

"Wow, these things got ripped right out."

"What do you think did it? Far as I know, only wyverns could do that."

No response came and the guard looked to his left only to find his companion out cold and the prisoner closing the cell door and locking it.

Cherche waved at him before taking off, her bare feet padding against the ground as she ran. Her first order of business would be to retrieve her clothes and weapons before finding Sumia and getting out. They had what they came for; it was just a matter of getting away.

Voices made her stop, but they passed quickly. Sighing, Cherche kept going until she found a well of stairs, light and pleasant conversations coming from above. Deciding that was her best bet on finding her things, Cherche ascended carefully and quietly, gently opening the first door she found.

By the looks of it, she'd found a hallway within the palace, a long rug and numerous suits of armor lining the walls. Servants were running about, plates and goblets held in their hands, and their conversations were what Cherche had heard down below.

One in particular caught her ear. "Has anyone seen Hannah? She was supposed to help with the service!"

Cherche frowned, wondering if this was her way out.

"Hannah got assigned to Lady Sumia, but she asked me to keep her uniform in the kitchen!"

Cherche almost smiled. If there were free clothes, who was she to deny them?

Unfortunately, she could hear yelling from down below. Taking another peek into the hall, Cherche bit her lip and took off running when she could hear and see no one else.

There were no people, thankfully, but Cherche had no way of knowing where the kitchen was and there was a truly miniscule chance that the servant they spoke of would have clothes of the same size.

She was so distracted by that thought she almost ran into a semi-open door. Spinning around it, Cherche froze when she heard shouts coming in her direction. Thinking fast, she went through the door and closed it, looking around furtively for a place to hide.

There wasn't much though, only a closet and a simple bed marking the room as a servant's chambers. Deciding the closet was her best bet, Cherche slipped through the door and waited.

She heard the door into the room open, except instead of clanking armor, she heard the swish of cloth and the moans of a couple in love. Her cheeks heated as she heard cloth fall to the floor and she decided to rifle through the closet rather than sit there and be paralyzed by her own shame.

Luck was on her side this time, a cleric's dress finding its way into her hands. Why the couple outside had decided to fornicate in a healer's room was beyond her, but the size was only a little bigger than what she normally wore.

Shrugging off the prisoner's tunic, Cherche went through the familiar motions of pulling the dress over her head and pulling the strings into place. There was no armor or crinoline to mess with, but Cherche would have gladly taken it if for no other reason than to feel a little more secure.

There were some boots in there too, if a bit on the small side, but Cherche was simply glad to be in proper clothing again. Now came the fun part, sneaking out of the room without alerting the couple.

Considering she could hear the bed creaking most vigorously, it was likely to be rather simple.

Taking a deep breath, Cherche opened the door as quietly as she could. Keeping her eyes on the door, she crept forward slowly and grasped the handle when she realized something.

There weren't just two voices in the room, there were three.

They were all very…masculine.

Flame rushed to Cherche's ears and she fled from the room, face hidden in her hands. It was just so… inappropriate for a lady like her to walk in on, let alone hear such things!

She rounded a corner and paused to collect herself, only looking up when someone cleared their throat. Seeing an older man in what looked like a butler's suit, Cherche straightened and curtsied. "Good evening, sir. I fear that I am lost."

The man looked her up and down. "I can guess. Tell me, what's a cleric doing here at this time of night? Shouldn't you and your sisters be elsewhere in the city?"

Cherche cast about for a good reason, eventually deciding on an old lesson from her youth. "I'm here to deliver herbs, good sir. However, I am yet unused to these halls and I cannot find the place I am to deliver them."

The man seemed to relax. "I see. Well, we were running low on them anyway, so I will be sure to thank your matron when next I see her. Please take them to the lady's chambers; they are down this hall and up four flights of stairs. The door leads into a hall that has her personal medicine storage, but I will be sending a guard with you just in case."

The man turned and waved down a single guard, the young man jogging up and saluting stiffly. After a quick rundown, the guard gestured for Cherche to follow him and they set off down the hall before entering another well of stairs and beginning their climb.

Their journey was made in silence, Cherche stared pointedly ahead while the young guard leading her fidgeted. Cherche honestly felt unsure as to why she'd been given such easy access to the personal chambers of the current duchess, especially after the other had died so suddenly.

However, there was no ambush waiting for her when she arrived, the only guard in sight the one who'd escorted her. He pointed to the door at the far end of the hallway. "That's where all the poultices and herbs get stored. Just put the ones you have with whichever matches, the duchess's personal healer will sort them out later."

Cherche smiled demurely. "Thank you kind sir, I'm sorry for any trouble I may have caused."

Then she slugged him, the one hit sending him to dreamland.

Stuffing him into the medicine room, Cherche started testing doors and windows. Glancing out one such window showed her a long ways from the earth, but she'd flown higher on Minerva before. What really caught her attention was something beyond the town walls.

Namely, the ring of torches illuminating what appeared to be siege engines.

Cherche flew back from the window and wrenched open the nearest door, uncaring of the broken handle. If the city was about to be sieged, then she needed to grab Sumia and meet up with Lon'qu as soon as possible.

It would be bad if they were to be mistaken as enemies, after all.

-Lon'qu-

Waiting for nightfall was perhaps the hardest part of this plan.

After Lon'qu had been brought up to speed, Jayce and Jane brought him to a tavern on the edge of town where the one they called 'Shade' met them. From there, he'd been escorted to a back room where another man with an aura that screamed authority was waiting.

To summarize, Lon'qu had met with Lord Dunwall of Themis, the current duke and father of Maribelle. As expected of Maribelle's father, he was stern, to the point, and no-nonsense. However, he recognized the skill that Lon'qu had honed over the years of training and visits to the Outrealms, he knew better than to address him as a common assassin.

Maribelle certainly got her hair from him though, since the man wore his in a series of blonde curls that resembled a judge's wig.

In any case, Dunwall told him nothing that Lon'qu hadn't already known minus one tidbit. The marquise, Meredith, was the head of the rebellion and had taken up residence in Ylisstol behind a combined force that came from each of the three rebelling provinces.

Lon'qu had grunted at the information before leaving the tavern with Shade, the two sneaking through the street until they arrived at a tower.

Now, they were scaling the stairs within while making sure not a soul knew they were there. Lon'qu was unsure of his temporary companion, but the other man had yet to speak and done nothing to indicate betrayal.

Then again, Shade was a figure from the underbelly of Ylisse, and based on the respect Dunwall had shown him, an important one at that. There was always the possibility he'd prefer coin over loyalty, the rebels had access to Ylisstol and the gold therein.

"If you think I will betray you," Shade began, "then you do not understand the Chain. The Exalted family has long understood us, even helped those in it slowly leave when they had the ability. But, these rebels have rattled the Chain most harshly and only the most contemptable of our links will work with them."

Lon'qu grunted. "Then why keep them in the loop?"

Shade's voice was flat. "The Chain takes all sorts, so long as they're useful."

Lon'qu chose to leave it at that, continuing the climb until Shade held up a closed fist. Stopping in place, Lon'qu watched Shade open the door he'd stopped before, the black cloak he wore disappearing from sight. Lon'qu heard some grunts and steel meeting flesh before Shade reappeared and gestured for him to follow.

Lon'qu sighed as he did so, giving the bodies of the guards a single glance. "Efficient."

If Lon'qu didn't know better, Shade may have laughed. "Prefer it that way. These men are not at fault, only their masters. I can at least grant them a swift and painless end."

Silence reined once more, the two saboteurs sneaking along the wall. Their target was the gatehouse specifically, but they only had so much time before Plan B was enacted. Considering Plan B involved a great deal of collateral damage, it was in their best interest to be quick.

Lon'qu personally wished he'd had longer to scout out the city at large. If there was one thing he'd learned from the orange rat, it was that sneaking required lots of scouting beforehand and an ability to adapt.

Lon'qu had the latter, but nowhere near the former. It made him grip Balmung's hilt tightly, even as the gatehouse grew ever closer.

Shade stopped them again. "Patrol, on the other side of this tower. Light says only three of them have torches, but I make out numbers."

Lon'qu felt a grin rise on his lips. "Mind if I take these guys? Haven't gotten to pull my weight yet."

Shade turned to him, eyes hidden in shadow. "I suppose… just make as little noise as possible. The last thing we need are knights showing up."

Lon'qu quietly drew Balmung, inwardly thrilling at the light feeling of the blade. The sword was the first weapon in the entire treasure room to have flown to the Shepherds, and even Lon'qu had heard tell of its power. Even in the weakened state it now stood, Lon'qu knew that it was his sword, now and until he died.

Nodding to Shade, Lon'qu slipped into the tower and took in his surroundings. He took in wooden steps leading to a landing with several windows, the only other things to note a few barrels. Dashing to the landing, Lon'qu took a glance out of the one window that faced towards the wall.

As Shade had suspected, a patrol was marching along the wall, three of the men with torches while the other six kept their spears against their shoulders. No knights, thankfully, but a raised alarm could change that.

Seeing the patrol closing in on the tower, Lon'qu crouched against the window and held Balmung at the ready, waiting to see what the patrol would do. A creaking door and the sound of boots made Lon'qu vault through the window and land with a dull thud behind the last member of the patrol.

A flash from Balmung cut through the cloth around his shoulder and the arm came off. Lon'qu clamped his hand around the disarmed man and muffled his attempted scream. The guard passed out from shock, allowing Lon'qu to set him down and charge at the others.

The next two went down without a sound, Balmung cleaving clean through one neck and lodging itself in another. Freeing the blade, Lon'qu jumped over another soldier and cut through the spine of the one in front of him before turning and slitting the throat of the man he'd jumped over.

By then, the other four had realized something was wrong. Spears fell into hands and steel sparked off the scale of Lon'qu's armor. Twisting through the blows, Lon'qu thrust through the chainmail of another guard before slugging another that charged him.

A flash of crimson steel ended him. too.

With only two left, the guards grew cautious and kept Lon'qu at spear's length, daring him to charge. Lon'qu grinned and did just that, not slowing as their spears closed in.

Then, he grabbed one spear by the shaft and drove it into the floor, using the momentum to flip himself over the strikes and bring Balmung down in a vicious helm splitter. Crimson stained the wall as Lon'qu yanked his blade free, his gaze turning to the lone, gibbering guard.

A knife from the shadows ended him.

Lon'qu frowned as Shade emerged. "I wasn't done."

Shade frowned in turn. "Taking too long, we need to move. Or have you forgotten what's at stake here?"

Lon'qu clicked his teeth and sheathed Balmung. "Right, lead the way."

Shade strode past him and through the door the patrol had come through, pointing to a large protrusion in the wall. "There's the gatehouse. The chains should be inside."

Lon'qu sighed, recognizing the gate he'd gone through just that morning. "I've gone from entering legally to breaking down the door. How time flies."

Shade was unamused. "They had you pegged the moment you showed up. The Chain keeps track of important people, and the Shepherds are most certainly important. There are portraits and descriptions of every member you have."

Lon'qu frowned, that wasn't good. "I have a feeling something bad is going to happen tonight, now that you say that. I'm not sure what, but I'd prefer this be done."

Shade grunted and they set off once more. The walls were deserted all the way to the gatehouse, only a single, bored guard stood between them and their goal.

A knife buzzed through the air and took care of that obstacle.

Lon'qu pushed open the door and climbed to the landing above. "Here we go…wait."

He took a closer look at his target and spit onto the wood. "Damn it, this isn't good."

The object he was staring at was once a coil of chains that opened and closed the portcullis within the gate. To the side of it was another coil of heavy rope, responsible for opening and closing the series of doors that lead to the portcullis.

Unfortunately, the crank for the chains was destroyed and would not move, the ropes for the doors had been cut while the doors were closed.

In other words, they had no way to open the gate.

Shade joined him, a deep frown on his lips. "I checked the other side, it's the same problem. Someone doesn't want us to get in easily."

Lon'qu glared at him. "Really? There's nothing we can do now, and people will die for it!"

Shade shrugged, voice tired. "People die all the time, Lon'qu. While I apologize for what's going to happen, this is the price that must be paid."

Lon'qu ignored the man, instead crossing to a window and looking out beyond the walls.

Just in time to see torches burn to life and reveal Themis ready to invade.

-Sumia-

Dinner was canceled soon after it began.

Sumia now found herself being herded down a dank corridor with her mother and the other dinner guests, stone faced guards pushing them along as demands to know what was going on were made.

Sumia kept her face neutral through it all, even as cruel glee danced in her mind.

Oh, how precious! The moment something happens they all panic like chickens with a fox, just what they deserve. Especially with how they sneered at my dress, no matter that I wanted them to.

Beneath the veil of ice that allowed such thoughts to be born, Sumia's normal mind was in a similar panic to the nobles around her. Something had gone very wrong and her life would be in danger if she didn't get away.

That panic did not pierce the ice, instead squished by a cunning unknown to her friends. We'll obviously be fleeing, probably all the way to Ylisstol at that. My plan will occur sooner than I expected, but it's no matter.

Such thoughts did not show on her face, only a cold mask revealed itself to the world. Several of the nobles around her appeared unnerved by her expression, but it was apparent her mother was too far gone to care.

Sympathy tried to rise through the ice, but logic crushed it. Her mother was her enemy, but a temporary asset at the moment. It was only natural she serve her purpose before Sumia cast her aside, just as Selena planned to do with her.

By then, they'd reached a large room with several carriages. Horses had already been tied to their spots and coachmen were waving for the escapees to pile inside.

Selena grabbed Sumia's arm. "We'll take the one on the far right. Everyone else, choose what you will and get out of here!"

She would broker no argument and dragged Sumia towards the least grand carriage in the room, even as a commotion erupted from the tunnel they'd left. Sumia silently mused that some sense remained in her mother's skull, letting herself be pulled along until a familiar voice sounded over the din of panicking nobles and servants.

"Sumia!"

Sumia looked back, blinking in curiosity when she saw Cherche, Helswath slung over her shoulder. "Cherche?"

Selena was having none of it, pulling Sumia along and into the carriage. Sumia glanced out the small window cut into the carriage's side, seeing Cherche carving and crushing her way through any guard that attempted to stop her.

A barked command from Selena soon replaced that image with the sights of rushing greenery. Sumia felt a cold smile rise on her face, even as worry bubbled under the frost.

Good, good. They'll think me the damsel in distress now, and what swifter response will be given to such a situation?

She absentmindedly patted the lance that lay at her side, one of the guards having left a simple iron piece in there for protection. It wasn't Gae Bolg by any stretch, but it would serve her purpose.

Settling in, Sumia ignored the screams of her mother as they rumbled and bumped through the forest, even as brief flashes of fire and violent shaking showed they were being pursued. Eventually, these sounds fell away and Selena flopped into her seat with a relieved sigh.

But, when she looked to her daughter, something within her shivered.

Sumia's expression had never deviated during the escape, even as fire and horsemen came for their necks.

Not once.

Something dark squashed the shiver, whispering reassurances and promises that all would go well.

Satisfied with the words whispered to her, Selena fell silent alongside her daughter.

Not a word would be spoken for the rest of the flight to Ylisstol.

Not a word.

-Plegia-

"My Lord, Denaris is fallen, as you predicted."

A dark shadow, almost burning with malevolence, turned to face the voice. "Then I must go see to the ritual. You may go, Validar, but do not fail in your machinations."

The voice stood from where he had kneeled. The dark mage who had attacked Ylisstol, the one presumed dead, spoke slowly. "All is going to plan my Lord. Gangrel's support continues to crumble and converts to your word swell by the day."

The shadow waved a hand in dismissal, Validar retreated from the room. Breathing a deep, satisfied breath, the shadow ghosted through the wall of the room it was in and entered another, larger room.

"How goes the ritual, my Queen?"

A perverse laugh answered him, the room steaming with black mist and pulsing red energy. "Almost done, milord. You were quite right about the misery those two would go through, but I was even able to bind a third soul!"

The shadow rippled, surprise showing in its movements. "Truly? Which of them has shown such heartache that Naga's protection was broken?"

Another laugh. "Why, my dearest friend has discovered cruelty! I even dragged in that little wench Aversa was using as a vessel!"

The shadow laughed. "Sumia, really? I knew that the souls of Frederick and Nowi would be broken of protection this night, but not her. Truly, gifts pile at my feet. I get to meet my oldest friends so much sooner than I expected!"

A figure appeared in the smoke. "Indeed, my Lord. The ritual is nearly complete, and soon the souls you brought with us shall join us once again!"

The shadow moved forward, a familiar shape appearing amongst the darkness. "Indeed they shall… but first, why not let me greet the ones you've already brought?"

The figure in the smoke bowed and led the shadow through the room, arriving at a wall where three piles of ash lay against the stone, the smoke leaking out of the flakes.

The shadow's hand rose. "Rise, my friends."

The ash shifted, giving way to pale bodies clad in faded armor and broken gems. One was a great bear of a man, while the other two were women of much smaller stature.

They bowed to the shadow, their voices speaking in unison. "My Lord."

The shadow laughed in glee, its hand wrapping around the waist of the figure in the smoke.

"Hello Frederick, Nowi, Sumia."

The three stood from their bows, eyes a sinister red color.

In turn, the shadow cast its disguise aside and dispersed the smoke around itself, smirking in turn with its bride.

"We have much to do."

Ch. End

I think that's a grand place to stop, don't you?

Severa: So… that's a problem.

Lucina: Indeed it is.

7: That has to be the most lackadaisical reaction I've ever seen.

Severa: Oh, quick question. Are these the current souls or the souls from where Lucy and I come from?

7: The one's where you come from.

Lucina: Well… that makes it much harder, then.

7: That's the point, my friend.

Severa: So, uh, moving on, are we getting to see Mom and Dad next time?

7: That we are! Next time we'll be joining Robin's group before we rejoin everyone in Ferox and start drawing things to their conclusion.

Let's have some fun! Until then, bye!