Chapter 6: The chapter where basically everyone eats dinner.
"I trust everyone had an uneventful day?" Ferdinand asked as Ingrid and Ashe walked into the main command tent, the last members of the Black Eagles to arrive.
"We've been searching the city for any trace of the warehouse. So far we have found little more than wood, ash, and dead bodies." Ashe replied grimly.
"Nothing to report from the air either. Most of the city's buildings have either collapsed or are incapable of handling the weight of a pegasus."
Sylvain put an arm around Ingrid's shoulder, and the woman tiredly shrugged him off. "Look, Sylvain, I'm very tired."
From around the table, Felix watched quietly, unspeaking as he polished his sword.
Sylvain laughed nervously as he stole a piece of potato from Ingrid's plate, darting away before she could retaliate.
Ingrid glared at Sylvain as he devoured the potato.
Before a tired Ingrid could bludgeon Sylvain, Ashe hastily emptied his almost untouched plate onto Ingrid's plate.
Ferdinand sighed. "Sylvain, it's not a noble thing to steal food from a woman."
Sylvain laughed. "But we are friends. And friends share things."
Felix responded by grabbing Sylvain's plate away from the distracted man.
"Oi!" Sylvain cried out.
Felix sneered as he slid the plate over to Ashe. "But we are friends. And friends share things."
Sylvain remained in his dramatic pose, stunned by the betrayal of Felix. "Ingrid, I beg of you, allow me to join you in dining."
"No." Ingrid replied, turning away from Sylvain and turning to Ashe. "So, Ashe, did you find anything in particular?"
Ashe shook his head. "There were a lot more barricades in the district we covered today. I dismantled a few of them, but it's very difficult doing it alone."
Felix nodded as he battered away Sylvain. "Alright then. Are any of the barricades useful?"
"I'll help dismantle those barriers tomorrow." Caspar said.
Ashe nodded. "There was a fairly long line of barricades around what might have once been a ballista. We might be able to get some usable timber out of them."
Caspar nodded. "Timber is in high demand these days."
"It is." Ferdinand confirmed. "I'll be trying to make inroads with the locals. From what I've seen, they don't seem to like us very much."
"I'll be patrolling the road to Garreg Mach." Felix said. "Some of our guards reported that there were bandits lurking in the trees. Even if it doesn't turn out to be true, we can never be too safe. Even a single day of lost supplies could lead to disaster."
"I'm going to sleep once we finish dinner here if that's alright with everyone." Ingrid said as she hastily finished off most of the meal originally intended for Ashe. "I'm sorry everyone, but I'm very tired."
"I'll walk you back, and maybe then you'll fall in love with me." Sylvain said in a tone that made everyone at the table cringe. "Just imagine! Us alone under the night sky. Face to face. Nobody watching."
Ingrid shook her head. "I'd rather not."
"So you want the entire camp to know about it? My goodness. I never knew you were so bold!"
Ingrid glared at him. "I've lost my appetite."
"As have I." Felix muttered, his blade reflecting the gleam of the candles.
Sylvain shuffled hastily away from Felix. "But wait! You've left so much food on the table! Who are you imposter? And what have you done to Ingrid?"
"Sylvain, just what exactly do you intend to do tomorrow?" Ingrid asked, sliding her overloaded plate to the middle of the table, the food coming to a quiet rest just outside the reach of Sylvain.
"I erm, uhh." Sylvain stammered.
Felix sighed. "Fine, Sylvain will be with me. He'll annoy Ingrid if he went to the city."
"The local residents really hate you, more than usual." Ferdinand added. "So I suppose you'll have to go with Felix."
Felix sighed. "I certainly hope the bandits will actually prove to be a good fight. I would probably lose my mind putting up with him otherwise."
"Oi! I resent that!"
"Would Edelgard and Byleth mind if he met a violent accident?" Felix wondered out loud.
"Probably." Caspar said, the subtle threat going over his head. "Do be careful out there."
Ferdinand opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and shut up again.
"Any luck?" Yurius asked as Mortis returned to the small fire where the rabbits were cooking.
"Yes, I've sent the message."
"What did he say?"
"Continue our mission. That and he wanted to toss Ryan off a catwalk."
"What did Ryan do?"
"Didn't ask. I don't want to know anyways.
Yurius snorted and turned back to the fire. "The rabbit isn't going to taste great. I forgot to bring salt along."
"Unfortunate." Mortis replied.
"How do you want to do guard duty?"
"One of us should take a vantage point while the other one sleeps. If anyone comes up to us, we'll see them before they see us."
Yurius nodded. "When the time comes, do you want to take first shift?"
Mortis nodded. "There's no shortage of cover in this region. I'll set up somewhere quiet, maybe in a tree."
Yurius nodded. "I'll set up some traps. The carriage is useless, but the glass window can be repurposed to be an advance warning for anything large coming our way."
"Good plan." Mortis replied as she turned to the fire.
Ingrid sighed happily as she left the tent.
The night was cool and fresh, and certainly didn't have annoying perverts lurking in the dark.
"Ingrid?" Ashe asked, popping out from the tent.
"Yes Ashe?" Ingrid asked her friend as she turned around.
"I wanted to talk to you about the operation today." Ashe said as he walked alongside her.
Ingrid nodded. "What do you want to know?"
"I was wondering if your aerial view was able to find anything in particular."
Ingrid shook her head. "I'm truly quite sorry, but the layout of the city makes it difficult to stay in the air for long. The destruction of the church towers in the city means that an aerial view would be highly limited."
"Could you possibly land on the city ramparts tomorrow?" Ashe asked quietly.
Ingrid sighed as she slowed her pace, the two of them pausing as a rabble of children ran by, oblivious to the two imperial generals that they had passed.
"The ramparts would be difficult. Landing on one of the town's towers may be useful, but again, those aren't made of stone, and I'm unsure if it can support a pegasus for long."
Ashe nodded. "I'll try to find a way to the ramparts myself. Perhaps that will allow for us to find a decent vantage point."
"How should we proceed?" Ingrid asked, yawning.
"I think we should split up at the start of the day. I'll be in the district we were looking at today."
Ingrid nodded. "I'll be moving deeper into the city. If I find anything, I'll fly back."
Ashe nodded as they reached the tent Ingrid was sleeping in. "That's a good idea."
"I'll see you in the morning." Ingrid said as she stepped inside the tent.
"Sleep well Ingrid." Ashe replied.
Ingrid nodded as she turned to the mattress she had set up. "I hope you sleep well too."
Ashe laughed. "I'm not so lucky to sleep alone. My bed is next to Felix, and well, he likes to sing."
Ingrid undid her boots before she shifted onto her bed. "Tell me more."
"He sings the songs Annette used to sing."
Ingrid snorted as she rolled up the covers, kicking off her boots in the process. "I hope the others aren't giving you much trouble?"
Ashe shook his head as he recalled the antics of his bedmates. "It's fine. It is hard to get sleep there though. Sylvain comes in very late and Felix sings very loudly in his sleep."
Ingrid shook her head. "Perhaps you could put your bed next to mine. Perhaps then you could get some good rest.
Ashe laughed at the suggestion. "I'm afraid I must decline. It might give off the wrong idea."
Ingrid blinked before she yelped. "Oh no Ashe, I didn't mean it like that."
Ashe felt himself flush a deep red as he hastily turned away from Ingrid, who he could tell was as red as he was.
"I'm going to go now!" Ashe stammered as he turned away from Ingrid. "Sleep well!"
Ingrid, now safely hidden under her covers, curled into a ball as Ashe fled.
The town guard had, unfortunately, been entirely serious about the state of the bandit attack.
A handful of town guards, their red uniforms proud in the torchlight, had formed a hasty defensive line at the town gate, occasionally thrusting a sword or spear blindly through gaps in the wall.
"Have no fear!" Lorenz shouted. "Lorenz Hellman Gloucester is here to help!"
The town guards did not reply. Neither did the bandits on the other side of the wall.
Leonie rolled her eyes and the guard that had guided them to the wall rushed forward, stabbing wildly at a particular gap in the wall.
A shout from above caught Leonie's attention as a dark figure leapt over the fence, a rust-eaten blade reflecting off of the dim torch light.
Leonie rushed the man before the knife could go into the back of one of the town guards, Lorenz waiting on the side of the narrow barricade.
Sure enough, a bandit leapt over the fence, a crude club in his hands.
Lorenz thrust his spear up as gravity forced the man down, the blade easily tearing through the pitiful armour the man wore.
On the other side of the fence, Leonie slashed at the falling man's arm, the tip of her spear tearing into his unprotected flesh.
The man shrieked as he was forced against the wall, his other arm feebling clawing at the deep wound he had suffered.
A guard, noticing the bandit for the first time, promptly skewered the man with his spear, hastily breaking formation to repeatedly strike the dying man.
Lorenz winced as he pulled his spear free from the bandit that had half landed on him, grimacing as he took a step back.
A small pebble flew over the barricade as he watched, narrowly missing one of the guards. A moment later, Leonie grabbed the pebble and threw it back, a scream and a painful thud on the other side confirming that she had hit a target.
A larger stone flew over the barricade, this time narrowly missing one of the guards and Leonie swore.
"Shield wall!" Lorenz shouted over the din of battle.
For a moment, the guards holding the wall stared at the noble as if he had gone mad, but quickly the guard reorganized, scrambling some feet back as they tested the integrity of their weapons and shields.
Leonie glanced at her partner as she took two steps back, covering the left flank of the half dozen men who guarded the battered barricade.
Lorenz stood proudly on the right, his face grim as the barricade began to shake.
Finally, the barricade fell, splinters of broken wood failing to stop the advance of the bandits.
There were maybe a dozen bandits leaping over the ruined entryway, two or three more hopping the fence, for a total of around fifteen.
"Hold!" Lorenz barked as the group of bandits approached, his words causing more than one to look at him strangely.
Then three bandits charged forward, their rushed attack slow due to their close proximity with the shield wall.
In uniform fashion, the town guards struck.
The lead bandit had rushed far closer to the enemy as his two companions, the towering frame of the man looming over the defensive line.
Two spears lashed out, plunging into the man as he prepared to bring a crushing blow against the shield of the town guard in the centre of the shield wall.
The sudden movement caught him off balance as the spears were unflinching in his flesh, the man roaring in pain as he attempted to pry himself free.
At the sight of their leader in pain, both of the men who had charged the line seemed to have a last minute change of heart, but fell victim to their own inertia.
The man on the left tripped and fell face first to the ground, and Leonie dashed forward,slamming her spear into the man's back, silencing him instantly.
The man on the right bowled into the heavy shield wall, his bulk crashing into the solid wood of the shields, his face turning to agony as a sword plunged into his stomach.
The bandits, now milling behind the first group, seemed worried when Lorenz saw them again, the first wave falling to the ground, dead.
"Two steps back!" Lorenz barked, the defensive formation shifting slowly as the bandits toyed with their weapons.
Then Leonie made her fateful move, a spare hand pounding her chest.
The bandits saw red, with what remained of their line breaking, an undisciplined mob raging forward against the solid shield wall.
There was a clash of steel as rusted blades met the well crafted and maintained weapons of the town guard, who rose as a single unit, pushing the attacking force back as they overran the corpses of the first wave.
For the bandits who had charged the centre of the shield wall, the sudden attack came too quickly for them to react, the bandits staggering as they fell over the corpses of their comrades.
With the wave of bandits having their attack stopped wholesale, the town guard began their offensive. Shields slammed into faces as spears and swords plunged into undefended limbs and throats.
The bandits who had not been pinned down by the shield wall seemed to realize their attack had failed, their hollow courage breaking as they seemed to realize they were trapped.
Leonie and Lorenz did not hesitate to exploit their advantage.
Leonie was the first of the two to strike, running through the first bandit on the left flank with her spear, the hesitant man unaware of the rapid strike until he had fallen victim to it.
The other leading man had already turned to flee when Lorenz struck, finding the broad side of the man's back as his spear chose to break inside the man.
The man, maimed by the attack, dropped a heavy lance to the ground, one Lorenz seized as the man gasped in his death throes.
It was a heavier weapon than what he had been used to, fighting under the command of the professor, but it performed as expected, the spike piercing the second fleeing bandit who had attempted to climb the side barricade in a desperate attempt to escape.
The wound had hit the man in the thigh, and the man fell heavily to the ground as Lorenz pulled the weapon free, turning the heavy weapon against the screaming mass of limbs that the bandit wave had devolved to.
It was only when the screaming ended did Lorenz look upon the scene of slaughter.
Leonie had squatted down and was breathing heavily, her spear planted neatly in the back of a bandit squashed against an unbroken piece of barricade, the lack of weapons in his hands suggesting he had been attempting to flee when he had been cut down.
"Lord Gloucester." The voice of one of the guards called out.
"Yes, my good sir?" Lorenz replied as he watched the guards check themselves for injury.
"Thank you for taking command there. We had all seemingly forgotten to fight as a unit when the bandits arrived."
Lorenz shook his head. "All in a day's work. Tell me, are bandit attacks like this common?"
The town guard shook his head. "Bandits do come, but most are highwaymen who attack carriages, it is rare for such a large force to come at our town so suddenly."
Lorenz nodded. "Leonie, go summon the mayor. I will ensure that the guards here are well treated for any injury."
The town guard who had escorted them to the position shook his head. "No need, Lord Gloucester, we can take care of ourselves."
"Nonsense. We are comrades. We fought off the bandits as a unit. I will not let you bleed while I can do something about it."
The guard who had approached Lorenz sighed. "Miss Leonie, I'll take you to the mayor's office. Lord Gloucester, please do take care with my men. We have very few medical supplies."
Lorenz shook his head as he pulled out a small packet from his armour. "I carry field dressings for these situations. Allow me to assist your soldiers."
The man, perhaps too tired to argue, nodded. "I'll see to it that the militia are rallied. If nothing else to clear these bodies away."
Lorenz nodded as Leonie followed him away. "I'll see to it that your men are in good hands."
"Thank you again, Lord Gloucester." The guard said as he hurried away.
Lorenz turned to the other guards as his partner disappeared from sight.
Mortis first saw the bandit girl from her position hidden in a tree along the bend.
It was a dark, cloudy night, though rain was still perhaps a day or two off.
The sight of the girl darting about, wasting energy made her hiss in disgust, though the act showed Mortis that something was different about the bandit.
Whereas Mortis had grown up with boring but satisfying meals in Shangri-la and Shambhala, the girl before her had been scrawny, clearly malnourished.
Mortis did not make a sound as she watched the girl drag a decapitated body away from where it had fallen, the girl making the occasional glance at the carriage where Yurius slept. Was this girl another victim of the war, or had she gone to bed hungry even before their puppet had plunged the continent into warfare?
"The answer matters not." Mortis whispered out loud, waiting until the girl began to claw at the dirt alongside the road where the ambush had taken place to make her way down the tree.
She took three small, measured steps before she stood still, watching as the girl broke down into tears, her slender frame wracked with sorrow.
Mortis took another step closer as the girl clawed at the earth again, this time in a frantic, desperate manner, though Mortis figured the girl's gasps and single-minded focus on burying the body would hide her own presence for some time.
Mortis took another step as the girl pried away a rock from the dirt, watching as the rock was tossed over the girl's shoulder, narrowly missing a nearby tree as it began to fall.
It was then that the moon peeked out from beyond the clouds, and the looming shadow of Mortis became obvious to the girl clawing at the ground.
The girl turned, and to her credit, did not scream.
Mortis stood silently as the bandit girl froze in place, the air silent except for the occasional bird call and the rustling of the wind.
"If you intend to kill me, make it quick." The bandit croaked out, her tense body slowly loosening as she seemed to accept her impending death.
"No." Mortis snarled.
The bandit closed her eyes as Mortis turned away.
"Tell me." Mortis ordered. "Why should I show you mercy in a quick death? It was your group that attacked us, not the other way around."
The bandit said nothing.
"Do you know how long I could take to kill you?" Mortis asked softly, lowering herself to a crouch, a small orb of dark magic swirling in each of her open hands.
The bandit shook her head, though Mortis saw something she like behind her eyes.
Fear.
"There are so many places to start. Perhaps I'll cut something minor, but we are out in the middle of nowhere. How would you find medical care out here? If you held the wound tight, perhaps you might only die from dehydration or starvation."
The girl inched backward, a whimper escaping her lips, her body tense once more.
"Or perhaps I'll throw the idea of dignity out of the window. Maybe I'll break one of your legs. Watch you try to crawl away from here."
"What do you want?" The bandit asked.
"I'm actually quite angry. You and your little band of outlaws delayed my travels."
"We were hungry." The girl protested.
"You could have chosen to farm, to make something of your miserable life."
"That wasn't an option! We didn't have any food left! The bastard count took it all!"
"Yes, that sounds like a very bold faced lie. Keep lying to me."
"It's the truth! He hates House Gloucester and wanted to see it burn!"
"And how would starving his own peasants achieve that goal?" Mortis asked.
"He wanted us to steal food from House Gloucester."
"And yet, here you are, committing highway robbery."
The woman sniffed. "It's not harvest season, and we were hungry."
"The other corpses didn't look hungry to me."
"They didn't feed me anything. Said I was a waste of food."
"Were they right?"
A flash of anger came from the girl's eyes, but it disappeared as the girl looked down in shame.
"Yes."
Mortis sighed as she stood up, watching the pitiful bandit before her. "You know what? Killing you would be a waste of my time."
"Mortis! No! Don't kill her!" Yurius shouted as he scrambled forward, bare chested and still blinking the sleep out of his eyes.
"Did you even hear what I just said?" Mortis snorted.
"I heard you utter the words killing you."
"I said that killing her would be a waste of my time."
"Oh." Yurius said, suddenly realizing that he was shirtless and standing awkwardly before two hostile women.
Mortis snorted as she turned to the carriage, the bandit still cowering in her ditch. "What is it with you and girls in distress?"
Yurius blinked as he stared at his partner. "I uhh."
Mortis shook her head. "My shift is over, though I would put on a shirt before you start yours."
"Ah." Yurius muttered as Mortis tossed him a long sleeved shirt from the chest in the carriage.
"Wake me when the sun is up." Mortis said quietly as she slammed the carriage door shut.
Edelgard stood quietly as Byleth pulled her chair back, gesturing for her to sit.
"Thank you." Edelgard said as she sat down.
"How did you find the day?" Byleth asked.
"Murder. More ways than one."
"How so?" Byleth asked.
"Well, there was the business with Hubert, the business with Dorothea, the fact that I saw a dead person today, and the fact that the cobbles of the capital do not pair well with the boots I chose to wear today."
Byleth nodded. "Shall we go shopping in the near future?"
Edelgard shook her head. "We cannot afford to waste time."
"We don't even know where Shambhala is. We don't even know what the bastard who experimented on you looks like."
Edelgard sighed as two plates of food were settled before them, thanking the server with a nod before turning back to Byleth.
"I'm afraid." Edelgard said softly.
Byleth swallowed, remaining silent.
"Unless Linhardt and Hanneman manage some miracle, I might only have a few years to live. And if we don't bring down Shambhala in that time…"
Byleth rose from his seat and walked to Edelgard. "El, I'm sorry I wasn't there, but we will take those years they stole from you back. Mark my words."
Edelgard shook her head. "It's all in the past now, but even with the continent united, I'm still worried about the future."
"El." Byleth whispered as he brought his arms tight around Edlegard.
"All this time, all the allies we gathered, all the enemies we have defeated. What if it was all for nothing?"
"Don't say that. We gave Fodlan a better future. A brighter future. And there is nothing Shambhala can do to steal that away from us."
Edelgard sniffed as Byleth eased her out of her chair, his arms strong as he gently set her down next to them.
They sat there for a while, Byleth drawing intricate little circles on Edelgard's belly.
Edelgard made a tiny whimper of protest as she buried her face into his chest. "I just."
"Shush El. There will be no Hubert here to ruin our moment."
Edelgard giggled as Byleth found a silver of skin that wasn't covered by her dress.
"Stop that. It tickles." Edelgard protested halfheartedly.
Byleth replied by bringing a firmer touch to bear, long, slow strokes that made Edelgard almost purr.
"That does feel wonderful." Edelgard whispered, her face content.
"Tomorrow, we are going shopping. If nothing else, to remind the people of Enbarr that the war is over."
Edelgard mumbled a protest in response.
"No complaining El."
Edelgard's stomach growled.
Byleth laughed as he reached over to the table, his hand pulling the plate of food back as Edelgard came even closer to him.
"Open wide, my cute little artist."
Edelgard punched him lightly before she opened her mouth.
Byleth smiled as he began to feed Edelgard bite by bite.
Hubert von Vestra slipped out of the icy cold bath with no less pain in his head than when he had entered it.
His head throbbing, he quietly returned to his office, his anger sated by tossing Edelgard's love letters and creepy requests into his fireplace.
It took a considerable amount of time, likely more than an hour, but the burning scent of parchment soothed his soul.
With a sigh of content, he glanced over at his clean desk, now free of unrequited love and nightmares about bath water.
And then he began to think of the problems at hand.
"Where is Paul Hawthorne when you need him?" Hubert grumbled to the walls of his office.
Receiving no answer from the plaster walls of his office, Hubert rose from his seat, stretching his arms as he considered his options for the night.
"Perhaps Edelgard is still awake." Hubert said quietly, turning back to his door. It was time for a walk.
"I'm going to transfer somewhere quiet." The guard said to her partner as the night grew long and stale.
"Not many positions left in the empire. Though Fodlan's Locket is always hiring." The elder guard said.
"You plan on staying?"
"My wife and son are both in Enbarr. He's studying to become a mage."
The woman nodded. "That does sound nice, having family here and all."
"Good evening." The voice of Hubert von Vestra said as the man stepped forward, having somehow melded with the shadows until then.
"Good evening." The older guard replied.
"Is the emperor finished with her meal? I would like to speak with her."
"The emperor is having a private dinner with her consort."
Hubert nodded. "Very well then, I will wait for them out here, if you have no objections?"
Both guards shook their heads.
"As for your earlier question, yes, the master of Fodlan's Locket is constantly on the lookout for additional forces, although something tells me that Almyra isn't going to invade us anytime soon. Their last invasion force was sent packing very quickly."
"Oh, I didn't mean to let that slip."
"Yes, but as Minister of the Imperial Household, I should know about these things. If the palace guards have concerns about their place of work, they should speak up about it."
The two guards exchanged a glance.
"Why is it that you want to go elsewhere to work?" Hubert continued.
The guard blushed. "Erm, the emperor is very passionate."
"Ah." Hubert replied. "Yes, that is something I've noticed around the professor. But tell me more. Is that really a problem?"
"Yes!" The guard squeaked. "It brings to mind unpleasant things."
Hubert glanced at the door. "Oh. I see. Is there any other reason these… unpleasant thoughts come to mind?"
The woman swallowed. "Yes…"
"Well, do tell then."
"The royal consort is erm."
"What about Byleth?"
"Ahh, uh. Hesveryhandsome."
Hubert blinked as he glanced at the blushing guard, playing her words over in his head. "Ah. I see."
The door swung open, and both guards snapped to attention.
"Hubert." Byleth said evenly, Edelgard curled up in his arms. "Have you recovered from your hangover?"
Hubert nodded gingerly as both of the guards turned their gaze away from the royal consort.
"Byleth, why is Edelgard in such a state of undress?"
Both guards seemed to flinch in reaction to the question, turning away even further from the royal couple in response.
"We left her crown in the bedroom, because, well, it's heavy." Byleth offered as he stepped forward.
Hubert glanced at the exposed sliver of Edelgard's belly and felt a slight heat run through his face. "I see."
"As for the fact that she's no longer wearing her boots, she mentioned over dinner how poor they are for walking the streets of Enbarr. We will correct that issue tomorrow."
Hubert looked, and sure enough, Edelgard's stockinged feet hung loosely over Byleth's arm.
"Hubert, if you wish to talk, allow me to tuck Edelgard into bed first." Byleth said.
"Of course. Should I bring anything from the room?"
"I suppose it would be poor manners to leave a pair of boots untended to in a room, but nothing else."
"Of course." Hubert said quickly as Byleth turned away. "Anything you say."
Spite found the late night air cool and fresh as he climbed down the old mountain path. The outcropping he sought was out of the way and overlooked a village in House Goneril territory.
It was when he reached the stony ledge when he found his breath taken away by the sight of the village at night. Even at their late hour, perhaps a dozen houses still had light.
The sight brought back memories that he frowned at. While the memories in question were pleasant, the memories that followed them were anything but.
Taking a cold gasp of the mountain air, Spite felt like he was twenty seven again, on his first major outing outside the defensive guns of Shambhala, a time where he still had parents and sisters.
Spite closed his eyes and pictured the young man in his mind's eye, naive, far too out to prove himself.
In a sense, the young man reminded him of Mortis.
The thought of his only apprentice brought a smile to his face. If he had done nothing else with his life, if all of his actions would be lost and undone, he would always have a successful apprentice to his name.
Subconsciously, he reached into the folds of his coat, his fingers brushing the leather bound notebooks a younger man had made, his original name proudly emblazoned the first page.
The touch of the leather brought a mad thought to his mind. He could indeed be done with his legacy. All he needed to do was to toss the papers over the mountain ledge, to let them plummet where the winds willed.
But he was not stupid. His notes alone had cost the lives of dozens, and was built on the lifeblood on hundreds more before him. It would be an insult to the world to toss all the sacrifice away.
And thus Spite settled down on the rocky ledge, and felt content as he watched the distant village mill about.
It was close to midnight when Ashe slipped back into the main command tent to finish the dinner that had been left behind.
To his disappointment, the plate with Ingrid's dinner on it was empty, the chicken bones missing and even the overcooked vegetables having been devoured.
"That's odd. Nobody except me and Ingrid would eat those."
Almost instantly, he ruled out the other members of the Black Eagle Strike Force. Caspar hated vegetables, Ferdinand was too uptight about being a noble to clean a plate so carefully, and Felix and Sylvain had avoided their overcooked vegetables entirely.
A noise caught his ear as he turned around, a dagger slipping into his hands.
His eyes sharp despite the dim light, there was little in the room that could have made the sound. While one of the training lances in the room could indeed have fallen over, all six sat neatly in position along the back wall, just as they should have been.
What should not have been was the crate quietly shuffling along toward the exit.
He frowned. Were the guards in the kingdom so incompetent to be fooled by a moving crate?
He allowed the crate to move a few paces further before he decided to act.
He walked quietly behind the moving crate, waiting until it decided to stop moving before lifting the crate up entirely.
Surely enough, a tiny thief with his dinner hid under the crate.
Having been caught red handed, the boy turned and kicked Ashe in the shin. Perhaps if Ashe hadn't been wearing grieves and if the boy wasn't barefoot, would the attack had done anything, but alas, Ashe felt nothing and the boy hopped back on one leg, still standing but in pain.
Ashe looked at the boy silently, the boy definitely glaring back at him.
"My name is Ashe." Ashe said in the most polite way he knew how.
The boy did not reply, his arms crossed before his chest and his gaze drilling a hole in the tent wall.
Ashe tried a different tactic. "Did you enjoy the food here?"
"I didn't steal anything." The boy protested.
Ashe looked at the boy again. "What's that brown bag behind you?"
The boy turned his gaze away. "My parents didn't tell me to take anything."
Ashe frowned. "Where are your parents?"
The boy turned out to the wider camp, carefully picking up the leather satchel that contained Ashe's stolen dinner.
"Let's find your parents, shall we?" Ashe said gently.
The boy carefully carried the small packet of food with him, running forward as Ashe followed at a relatively small distance.
About three turns later, the boy turned to a small tent, with Ashe pausing just outside.
It had once been a military tent, though the mighty eagle of the empire had been defaced off the side, with large splatters of mud covering the insignia.
After a moment, Ashe followed the boy into the tent, the boy offering the food to an older woman.
At the sight of Ashe, the woman's face turned hostile.
"What are you doing?" She hissed. "This is our tent."
"I walked your son here. He was in my tent."
The woman snorted. "Alright then. You can leave now."
Ashe nodded. "Just one question. Are the rations provided insufficient?"
The woman glared at him. "Why the hell do you care to know about that?"
"Because the emperor has no intent to see you starve."
The woman sneered. "She brings war to all of us, and she doesn't want us to starve? What a joke."
"She did not set fire to Fhirdiad." Ashe replied. "That was the Church."
The woman snarled. "You don't know anything."
"General Ubert?" A soldier called from behind him.
Ashe turned to find one of his marksmen standing outside, his face surprised.
"It was you after all. I thought I recognized you." The man said. "What are you doing here?"
"I was escorting a lost child." Ashe offered as he turned around to the woman.
The woman now snarled back at him.
"Traitor." The woman hissed.
Ashe grimaced as he turned to leave. "My earlier comments stand. Emperor Edelgard cares for your wellbeing, whether you believe that or not."
The woman replied by turning her back to him, her arms pushing her children to a small corner of the wider tent.
"I don't think she believes you." The archer muttered to Ashe when the woman and her tent were out of earshot.
Ashe shook his head. "It is true, however, and I will not lie to these people."
The archer nodded. "Just a question. Was the child really lost?"
Ashe shook his head. "He had taken a plate of food from the command tent."
The archer glanced back at the tent. "Is that just a nice way to say he stole food?"
Ashe shook his head. "Steal would be the wrong word for it. I wasn't going to eat it, and the command tent was empty. Better it feeds a family rather than it go to waste."
The archer nodded. "I see. What were you and the woman fighting over?"
"From what I could see, they are suffering from a food shortage if there are children that are going to bed hungry. Emperor Edelgard would be furious if she found out."
The archer nodded. "I see."
"I'll investigate further, but my hope is that the warehouse that we are searching also contains provisions for the short term. We should not starve the people who have lost everything."
"What will you do if the food supplies aren't enough?" The archer asked as they turned down the main path of the camp.
"I'll go ask Garreg Mach and Enbarr for supplies. A ride down to Enbarr should take two weeks at most."
The archer nodded as he reached two other soldiers, both of whom sharply saluted Ashe as they went by.
"I'm afraid I must return to my patrol, General Ubert, but it was good to talk to you again."
Ashe nodded. "Very well. I wish you a good night."
"Thank you sir." The archer said as he quietly walked away with the two other men.
The walk back to Shambhala was a slow, quiet affair.
Spite hummed softly as he reached the monolith that loomed over the back field of Shambhala.
He glanced at the large rocks that circled the thousand year memorial, perhaps the personal project of a long dead overlord.
He briefly wondered what force could have brought the rocks up to their current vantage point. Perhaps a non-militarized version of their Titanus golems or the labour of a hundred men in unison.
He sighed as he sat down on his favourite stone, a well worn block that offered him vision of both Shambhala as well as the path that lead to the wider world.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, both remained silent.
Spite stared at the glassy surface of the stone and wondered to himself if the first acquaintance he had watched die was worth remembering, the man's body buried under a landslide a fortnight away from the closest outpost they had.
Perhaps it had been just been luck that he alone made the detour directly back to Shambhala, the rest having been wiped out by a surprise attack lead by Jeralt Eisner of the Knights of Seiros.
Spite sighed as he strained his mind for the names of his former comrades, frowning as he came up empty again and again, the man who clawed for his hand as he plunged to his doom all but forgotten, the terrified look on his face as he fell all Spite could remember of him.
"I'm getting too old for this." Spite muttered to himself, slowly rising from his rest.
He picked up his pace as he got closer to Shambhala, the prospect of a hot shower, possibly a shot of something strong, and potentially a good night of sleep for once hastening his pace.
It was when he opened the door to the back door did he feel something off.
It could indeed have been a trick of the light, for when Spite brought up an orb of fire to illuminate the poorly lit hallway, he found nothing out of the ordinary.
Still, Spite approached the stairs gingerly, a cold suspicion filling his heart as he jogged up the steps.
Much to his surprise, nothing had changed over on the trip up. The rusted steps that lead back to Shambhala were still the same as he had left it.
"Trick of the light." Spite muttered as he turned the corner toward his office door.
Which had been flung open, the darkness in his personal office like a gaping mouth.
With hands shaking, Spite reached over and turned on the lights to his office, the bulbs above flickering before revealing to him the destroyed nature of his office.
Author's Note: More Edits!
