Chapter 13: Warpath.


The first body had only taken an hour to find.

"Boss!" A voice shouted as they climbed a difficult ridge. "There's a body!"

Spite glanced down, noting the broken human shape somewhere far below them.

"Is it one of ours?" Spite shouted back as he glanced down the ledge, the early morning light making gauging the drop difficult.

"Can't tell. It's probably dead though." The soldier yelled back.

Spite nodded as he glanced around the unfamiliar mountain path. "I'll head down there. If nothing else to confirm it's Shambhalan."

"How do you do that?" One of the other soldiers asked.

"I open up the sternum. A stone heart is Shambhalan. A heart of flesh is a savage."

"You going to be alright down there?" Herald One asked.

"I'm armed with my Athame and more than enough magic to send him to hell. I'll be fine."

Herald One nodded. "You all heard the boss man. Move forward."

"If the path ahead diverges, leave a marker for me to know where you went." Spite called as he mentally prepared a route to the body below.

"Gotcha." The lone female archer replied as Spite turned from the jagged path.

For a moment, the warband screeched to a halt as their leader deftly slid down the slope to the corpse, his descent slowed by his choice of route.

"Get moving!" Herald One shouted at his team as Spite reached the bottom of the gorge, pausing to wave the warband forward.

Spite turned quietly to the broken body as the last of the archers made their exit.

A single eye slowly tracked his moves as he came up to the body.

"Still alive are you?" Spite asked as he drew his Athame.


When she awoke, Ingrid tested her bonds gingerly, finding, much to her own disappointment, that the rope was strong.

"You're awake." A voice said.

Ingrid glanced up at the female voice, hidden behind a heavy plague doctor mask.

Ingrid opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

The woman paused for a moment before she leaned down, pressing a steel canteen to Ingrid's lips.

She hesitated for a minute before her exhaustion got the better of her, and she leaned her head back to drink.

The water inside was surprisingly warm, and Ingrid gagged and coughed when the other woman leaned the canteen too far.

And then the water was gone, the canteen hastily retrieved by her captor.

"Why are you helping me?" Ingrid asked as she felt a slight breeze against the wind, wincing as she realized her feet were bare.

The other woman glanced around for a moment before she looked back at Ingrid, slowly pacing about their camp.

Ingrid swallowed.

"The others left us to die."

Ingrid blinked. "Pardon?"

The woman sighed as she crouched down, and for a moment Ingrid locked eyes with her captor.

"The others stole my horse." The woman sighed as she gestured to a distant tree. "They fled south."

"Why did they leave?" Ingrid asked.

"Does it matter?" The woman asked with a bitter laugh, rising up from her crouch.

"Are they coming back?"

"The cowards are halfway to Agartha." Her captor replied with a sneer. "They won't be back."

"Why were you left behind then?" Ingrid asked.

"None of your business." The woman snarled back.


A single eye flickered as Spite approached the downed traitor, an orb of fire in hand as he stopped just beyond the reach of the man.

"I have nothing to say." The man choked out as Spite crouched close.

"You have two choices." Spite replied coldly. "You can choose to cooperate with me, and I'll kill you quick."

Spite paused to let the offer of mercy sink in, observing the man's other swollen eye.

"Or you can make this difficult for yourself." Spite threatened softly. "You could drag it out. Refuse to work with me."

The man spat at Spite in reply, though the action left him hacking for breath.

"You will tell me everything I want to know." Spite replied. "The only question is how much pain you will suffer in the process."

The man didn't reply, his damaged body wracked with pain.

"No answer?" Spite asked, a false note of disappointment in his voice.

The man's one able eye flickered to Spite's outstretched hand, dancing tongues of flame kept in place with his willpower.

Spite let the fire falter after a moment, choosing to pull out the ever polished Athame from a side pocket.

He stood tall for a moment, toying with the blade even as his eyes looked for weakness on the downed traitor.

Then he brought back the fire, stronger and wilder than before.

"I will offer you a chance to die without pain." Spite said as he leaned close to the man. "But I will offer you this death only once."

A single hacking cough was his reply.

Spite paused before he let his concentration falter, a single dancing tongue of flame strengthening as many more faded.

Then he forced the last tongue of flame down.

The unmistakable smell of burnt cloth wafted up to Spite as he turned away from the man, his eyes wandering to see where he could get out of the gully that he had slid down.

After a long moment, a gasp of pain escaped the man.

Spite replied to the information by testing a handhold on the mountain, finding the rock stable in the earth.

"Please!" The man cried in pain as Spite paused to polish Athame.

Spite raised an eyebrow as he scrubbed at a small spot on his hilt that had once been a spot of water, long since evaporated.

"They don't know where they're going!" The man blubbered as the flame gnawed at his flesh.

"That's not what I asked." Spite replied as he walked within kicking range of the injured man. "What I want to know is how you managed to butcher a simple meal in such an epic fashion."

"The others threw me down here!" The man yelped as Spite turned back to the burning man, frowning at the unmistakable smell of burning flesh.

"Who destroyed the crackers? Who ate all the cookies?" Spite asked as he crouched down close to the man's face. "Who was responsible for the meat going as bad as it did?"

"They wanted to run to Thales!" The man spluttered.

"Thales is at least three days travel away." Spite spat. "And that's assuming they escape the mountain in-"

"That's all I know!" The man cried out, cutting Spite off in the process. "Please! Stop the fire!"

Spite lit up a second tongue of flame, silencing the terrified man in the process.

"Let me finish." Spite said calmly.

The man shut his mouth quickly, though Spite could still hear his pained breathing.

"Like I was saying." Spite finished. "Thales in multiple days away from us. Your fellow traitors will not reach him. We will find your fellows. We will kill every last one of them. They will die slow, agonizing deaths.

A whimper escaped the other man.

"I will offer you a choice, however." Spite said. "I am willing to extinguish the fire."

The smell of burning flesh made Spite pause as he glanced at the exposed flesh of the man's leg, cooking slowly with the uncontrolled flame.

"Extinguish it. Please." The man begged.

Spite nodded as he reached close to the man, willing the magic to bow to his will.

The man gasped in reply as the fire spluttered and died, the fading flames revealing blackened, bleeding flesh.

"For your sake, I hope an animal comes for you before you die of thirst." Spite offered as he turned away from the man with a cruel sneer on his face. "For that fire was the most merciful and quickest death I could promise."

"Please don't leave me here." The man begged. "Please. I can still be of use to you."

Spite frowned. "Oh. That's right. I forgot about that. Thank you for reminding me."

And then Spite plunged his hand into the man's chest, a grin spreading across his face as his hand grasped his prize.


Mortis sighed as Yurius finished loading up their trunk in the carriage.

"Are we content with our position on the convoy?" Lorenz asked as he hurried over to the group.

"We are." Yurius said quickly, shooting a warning glance at Mortis in the process.

"It will be good to have some fresh air." Mortis replied.

Lorenz nodded. "I would like to apologize for Leonie. She's very sensitive about captain Jeralt's death."

Mortis nodded quietly in response. "So I've been told."

Lorenz frowned. "If we move quickly, we should reach Myrddin before nightfall. There we can see to repaying you for the debt."

Mortis nodded in turn. "That would be appreciated."

"If we had more horses, I would have a rearguard as well." Lorenz said seriously. "But with the recent bandit attacks, the village can't afford to send out anyone to get us back to the Great Bridge of Myrddin."

Mortis nodded in reply as she waved off Yurius.

"Leonie has a much wilder horee than I do." Lorenz said quickly. "Would you prefer my horse?"

Mortis glanced at the two armoured mounts being led out of the stables and nodded. "I trust the white one is yours?"

Lorenz nodded in reply. "Leonie has the grey stallion, but only for a short while. Her previous mount fell at Fodlan's Throat."

Mortis frowned. "What were you doing up there?"

"An invasion force from Almyra had attacked while the lord guarding the fort was unwell." Lorenz replied. "That and we had erm, some personal business with him."

"I see." Mortis replied. "Seems like it was a busy trip."

"Not particularly. Only Hubert saw Lord Goneril, and he was severely ill at the time."

Mortis raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"He mentioned to us later that Lord Goneril had eaten some bad mushrooms."

"Badly cooked or poisonous?" Mortis asked. "Badly cooked mushrooms can be unpleasant. Poisonous mushrooms and be deadly."

"We didn't pry at the time. Lord Goneril was considered mentally unstable at the time."

"Understandable. Poison is not exactly an enhancement for one's mind."

Lorenz nodded as the horses were saddled. "We should get going. The road ahead isn't particularly dangerous, nor does it have major winding paths."

"So long as I follow the main road, there's no risk of getting lost then." Mortis concluded.

"That's correct." Lorenz replied. "Let's be quick. We've wasted enough time."

Mortis nodded in reply before she followed Lorenz to the horses. "Let's hope we can make it before nightfall."


Byleth waited quietly as the cart moved away from the well paved streets of Enbarr to the not particularly well paved roads of the empire's rural regions.

"It's rather rough out here isn't it?" Edelgard asked as their carriage bounced yet again along the road.

"It is." Byleth replied. "It wasn't this bad the last time I came to Enbarr."

Edelgard nodded in reply. "Indeed. Many work crews were conscripted into the imperial legions over the course of the war, so I'm afraid that we've not been able to keep up public works in recent years."

Byleth nodded. "Would you like to ride outside tomorrow?"

Edelgard shook her head even as she gazed longingly at the sky outside their carriage. "No. It would be faster via carriage. We can't afford to waste time."

Byleth nodded as he shuffled awkwardly around the carriage, squeezing next to Edelgard as she inched away to provide him space.

"Maybe when this is all over, we can travel Fodlan on our own terms." Byleth said as he pulled Edelgard into his lap, his arms wrapped around her midsection as they both gazed off at the beautiful blue sky.


The arrow pointed at Sylvain's face was certainly not friendly.

Sylvain blinked awkwardly as he tried to remember why there was an angry archer in his sight.

"What the hell was that?" A voice called over somewhere in the distance.

"Intruder!" The man pointing the arrow at his head shouted back.

Somewhere from far away, footsteps came closer to Sylvain as he tried to wave the arrow in his face away.

"General Gautier?" The second voice asked with surprise in his voice.

"Who?" The first voice, the archer barked.

"That's General Gautier." The second voice informed the first.

"Oh." The archer replied. "Are you serious?"

"Please don't shoot him." The second voice said. "And yes, that's General Gautier."

The arrow retreated from his face and Sylvain let go of the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Why are you here?" The first archer asked.

"I'm here to find Ashe." Sylvain replied weakly to the dark blob that stood over him.

"He means General Ubert." The second voice translated.

"I knew that." The formerly threatening archer said with a scoff.

Sylvain blinked as the second archer pulled him to his feet, his headache becoming ever worse with being exposed to light.

"What knocked me over?" Sylvain asked.

"We set up a trap." The second archer said cheerfully when the first stepped away. "You fell right into it."

"Trap?" Sylvain asked.

The archer pointed to a point in the grass.

"My head hurts. Tell me what it is." Sylvain snapped.

"We set up a tripwire." The archer replied. "Your horse ran into it, threw you off, and continued forward. Almost trampled me in the process."

Sylvain winced as the man tore something from the ground.

"See? A stake to hold the wire down."

Sylvain sighed as he waved the man off. "Alright then. That explains why I'm sore. Could I see Ashe now?"

"General Ubert is asleep at the moment." The soldier replied. "I'll take you to the camp, but you'll have to wait until he wakes up."

Sylvain frowned as the soldier left him for a moment, pausing until the man returned.

"Did you hit your head in the fall?" The man asked.

Sylvain winced in turn.

The man shook his head and sighed. "Looks like you might have a concussion. Wonderful."

"Have you found Ingrid yet?" Sylvain asked as the question slowly came to mind.

"General Galatea? No."

Sylvain glanced around and let out a hiss of pain, his hands grasping for something to hold on to.

"Take my hood." The man muttered as strong arms steadied Sylvain. "The light will be bad for you until we can get you a healer."

Sylvain nodded weakly as he felt a dark hood block out the sun.

"I'll walk you to camp." The archer said as he grasped Sylvain's forearm.

"The Lance of Ruin." Sylvain protested.

The archer sighed as he turned about, his hands gingerly sliding the weapon into Sylvain's hands a moment later.

"Never liked those things." The archer muttered. "Creepy."

Sylvain laughed weakly. "I suppose not."

The man nudged him forward in response. "Not long now. We'll see what we can help with once we reach camp."

"Ashe isn't a mage. And Linhardt, Marianne, and Mercedes are all back in Garreg Mach."

"We know. We carried a few cure waters and vulenaries with us." The archer replied.

"Were they meant for Ingrid?" Sylvain asked. "If that's the case, save them for her."

The archer let out a low, annoyed hiss. "No. You are injured. Ashe himself would demand that you got the help that you need."

Sylvain laughed bitterly. "That's Ashe."

"We-oh." The archer said quietly.

Sylvain winced as he looked up, a vague and blurry face visible against the green foliage.

"Sylvain." Ashe asked quietly. "What the hell are you doing here?"


"I have questions." Maya said excitedly when Yurius met her eye midway through the trip.

Leonie gave a faint groan in response as Ignatz rubbed his head and moaned.

Yurius hastily shielded his eyes away from the girl, his vision filling up with the drunken form of Leonie sprawled on the bench next to him.

He spun around hastily, disgust rising in his throat over the undignified form of the woman next to him.

"Yurius." Maya snapped.

Yurius glanced at Ignatz, who, despite being less unappealing to look at, was still slumped over, his face hidden by his hair and the angle of his head.

"Yurius! Hey! I'm talking to you!"

Yurius met the gaze of Maya desperately, but the other girl had seen the move in advance and refused to meet his gaze.

"Stop ignoring me like a child!" Maya whined.

"What do you want Maya?" Yurius asked, feeling the trunk containing their radio pressing against his ankles.

"Does Mortis have any clothes she doesn't want?" Maya asked. "She has such good taste."

Leonie made a low moan at the name of her newfound nemesis, but otherwise failed to reply.

Yurius shook his head. "No. I haven't seen her for some time."

"Oh right. You and her haven't seen each other for a while now." Maya said. "What about the chest you have there? How much gold do you have?"

Yurius felt his mouth go dry. "I- uhh. I'm not sure."

"There are so many clothes I want to buy once I see my brother. So many sweets I want to eat!" Maya exclaimed. "Could you buy them for me?"

Yurius shuffled awkwardly against the chest, now shaking his head aggressively.

"Fine then. I'll talk to Mortis. She's nice."

Yurius glanced at the frozen form of Evi, now suddenly quiet.

"I don't think you know her well enough to do that." Yurius muttered as he leaned back into his seat.

"She bought me cake this morning. She paid for Leonie's bar bill. Of course she has money."

Yurius shook his head nervously. "I'm not in control of our finances. Mortis was always better with money."

Leonie made a noise of protest at the other woman's name and Yurius slightly inched away from her, backing into Ignatz in the process.

"How much do you have in there anyways?" Maya asked.

Yurius suddenly wished he wasn't in the carriage.

"Erm, Evi. How did you find shopping yesterday?" Yurius said quickly, desperately trying to change the topic.

"Expensive." Maya snarled. "Do you have any idea how poor this girl is? I had to buy her new shoes, new underwear, new clothes."

"I'm fine. Truly!" Evi protested weakly, flushing a deep crimson.

"That's not the truth and you know it!" Maya snapped. "And that's before I noticed your gloves have blood on them!"

Yurius and Evi exchanged a nervous glance.

"She's so poor she has to use her gloves for her time of the month!" Maya shouted. "I'm not going to let my friend sudder that!"

Leonie groaned feverishly at the shouting, her slurred words failing to make sense as Evi glanced nervously at the mercenary.

Yurius shook his head. "Let's not get into that."

Maya snarled in reply. "Evi is poor to the point where she has to use her gloves to stem the bleeding. And you can't even spare a few coins?"

Yurius shook his head. "Look, I'm not going to dig through her trunk. She has things in there that are very important to her."

"I don't care. You need to take better care of poor Evi. Why don't I take a look around, see if there's anything inside that we can use?"

Yurius shook his head again. "Mortis would be furious if she found out."

"But Evi is your friend isn't she?" Maya pushed.

Yurius pursed his lips as he glanced at Evi. "She is, but Mortis really doesn't like me going through her stuff."

"That just makes her sound mysterious." Maya continued. "Aren't you interested in what's in the trunk?"

Yurius thought of the pile of coins that Spite had tossed into the trunk.

"I am in fact."

Yurius thought of the Athame that Spite had gifted Mortis and glanced at the sleeping Leonie.

"Actually, no. I'm not interested in looking." Yurius said quickly.

Yurius then thought of the radio machine he saw Mortis fiddling with.

"No. I'm not interested at all." Yurius finished as the carriage descended into silence, now guarding the chest even more tightly than before.


"Boss. What is that?" The lead archer asked as Spite caught up with the group at a small clearing.

"Dark magic ingredient." Spite replied.

"Is that- his heart?" The only female archer asked in horror, inching away from her overlord.

"It is. He's not going to need it." Spite offered with a mild shrug as he finished toying with the dark stone, slipping it into a side pocket.

"What are you going to do with it?" One of the other archers asked.

"It's good to have a spare heart on hand." Spite replied. "There's a great deal of magic we can use against our enemies using the hearts of our dead."

The archers shifted nervously in reply.

Spite sighed slowly as he sat down. "Fine. I suppose that description scares you more than it helps."

The assembled archers flinched as their overlord spoke.

"There are three particular uses for a Agarthan heart in dark magic." Spite said as he looked at the terrified faces around him. "Are any of you familiar with them?"

"Bringing someone back to life?" The lead archer asked when his compatriots were silent.

"Yes and no." Spite replied. "There are three things that make a living being. A heart is only one of them."

"A mind." One of the other archers said quickly.

"Correct, Herald Three." Spite replied with a nod. "The third aspect that is required is blood."

The other members of the team nodded as Spite gestured for them to come closer.

"It is said that those of our people who die with regrets are sent to the dark dimension of Zahras until their own guilt and regret drives them insane." Spite said quietly as the warband huddled closer.

"Isn't that the cursed throne?" The female archer asked.

"No. That's Zanado you are thinking of." Spite replied with a small scoff. "In the event that one is able to locate a mind, has a heart on hand, and enough blood and raw magic on hand to build a body for the deceased mind, then yes, one can bring a dead soldier back to life."

"Is there- well, anyone you want to bring back?" The leader of the archers asked.

"All of us know the answer to that question." Spite replied calmly, though his body tensed at the question. "But if the report on her death was true, her mind is already at peace. To run the gauntlet of Zahras on a fool's errand would be to betray my duty as your overlord."

The other men and women nodded their heads grimly as Spite let out a long, slow breath.

"We should get going." Spite said after a minute of silence. "The sooner we can recapture these maggots the sooner we can return to Shambhala."


Edelgard sighed as she leaned back into Byleth, her eyes wandering from the endless fields of green corn to the brilliant blue sky that stood over them.

"Do you like what you see?" Byleth asked, breaking the silence.

Edelgard almost scrambled out of his lap in a panic, landing heavily on the floor of the carriage, a hand over her heart.

Byleth stifled a laugh as Edgard pouted.

"I thought you were asleep!" Edelgard protested as she dusted herself off of the floor, her cheeks flushed.

"I woke up a while ago." Byleth replied casually. "I wasn't sure if you were still asleep."

Edelgard sighed as she slipped back into the bench, smiling as Byleth put an arm over her shoulders.

"The sky is beautiful." Edelgard said after a long moment.

Byleth nodded as he glanced at the sun halfway below the horizon outside their carriage.

"It is."

"We should reach a tavern soon." Edelgard said after another moment of silence.

"Is it a place where we can watch the sunset together?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard paused for a long moment as she placed her head on Byleth's lap.

"Yes. There is."

Byleth didn't say anything to that.

"The village had a meadow." Edelgard said as she gazed out to the sky again. "It's the first place where I saw my mother after the coup."

"When we get there, let's see it for ourselves."

Edelgard nodded weakly as she closed her eyes again. "I like the sound of that."


"I remembered something." Monica said quietly as Dorothea woke from her nap.

Dorothea turned her eyes to her red haired companion. "Really?"

"Do you remember Yurius?" Monica asked.

"The Shambhalan soldier who guarded you?" Dorothea asked.

"Before he burned down the tavern we were in, he mentioned Adrasteia."

"Wait. To whom?"

"Hawthorne."

"What did he say?" Dorothea asked, suddenly alert.

"He said something amongst the lines of Spite will provide for your losses."

"Spite?"

"When Hawthorne asked him on who Spite was, he said that Hawthorne knew him by another name."

"And he didn't mention anything about it to us." Dorothea muttered. "What happened?"

"I don't know. There's a lot I've been kept in the dark about."

"Did Yurius seem to know Hubert?"

"I don't know." Monica replied. "Hubert and Mortis didn't come up all that much."

"What did you talk with him about?" Dorothea asked.

Monica looked away in response.

"Oh." Dorothea said quietly. "Let's not go there then."

"I- we bonded over how we were never told the truth about anything." Monica blurted out.

"What happened on his end?" Dorothea asked.

Monica sighed. "He would go weeks on end with no orders from his superiors or any other operatives they might have had."

"What kind of orders?" Dorothea asked.

Monica grimaced and looked about the carriage before she leaned back into her seat, a slow sigh escaping her.

"Remember how Hawthorne and Hubert said that they were to kill me?"

Dorothea nodded.

"Yurius received a single order over all the months we were together. To kill me."

"And Yurius refused." Dorothea concluded.

"He did. That's why I'm still here today."

Dorothea frowned. "Was this after Roderigo Midas was disposed of?"

Monica nodded quietly and sighed. "It wasn't until much later that I learned that the murder of my kidnappers had allowed them to move forward on their plot."

"Hubie does like to plot." Dorothea replied.

"From the sounds of it, he would have fit right in with Shambhala." Monica scoffed.

Dorothea frowned at the dismissal of her colleague, but conceded the point quietly nonetheless.

"I suppose I should be thankful that Hubert and Mortis were busy elsewhere." Monica said as she slowly turned her gaze to the fading sun.

"I suppose I understand why you don't have a wish to be wanted." Dorothea said in turn as she too joined Monica in looking at the bright sun.


"He didn't do anything strange to you did he?" One of the archers asked when Ashe stepped out of the small tent where Sylvain lay.

"He hit his head. I doubt he could tell me from his mother." The female archer replied with a scoff.

"Please don't hurt him further." Ashe said quietly.

Both archers spun around at the words of their commander.

"I won't." The male archer laughed. "Totally nothing happened."

Ashe gave the man a dirty look.

"I hate to say it boss, but that look just looks like you are squinting." The female archer said with a barely concealed smile.

Ashe sighed quietly. "Please don't maim Sylvain."

"Sure." The female archer said. "We are on the same side after all."

Ashe turned his gaze on the other archer, innocently whistling away.

"Oh fine." The man growled. "I won't hurt him. Knight's honour."

"How badly do you think he was hit?" The female archer asked.

"Badly enough." Ashe replied. "He's not going to be any help in combat until we can get him to a healer."

"Do we need to watch him?" The male archer asked.

"Him and his lance. I don't want anyone letting either out of their sight." Ashe ordered.

"Are the rumours true?" The female archer asked. "About the lance turning people into monsters?"

"I've been told so by the other members of the Black Eagle Strike Force." Ashe said. "I'm told the lance's last victim was Sylvain's older brother."

"It's true." Another archer offered as he came up to the group, the man shooting the lance a murderous glare as he arrived.

"Hold on. I know you said you fought for a bandit before, but that bandit was General Gautier's brother?"

The bandit turned marksman turned and glared murderously at the man who had spoken.

The man wisely turned and took a step back.

"Miklan was a good boss. The best until I joined the Imperial Army."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Ashe said grimly.

"He didn't deserve to die the way he did." The archer said as he glared at the lance.

"Then you understand the importance of keeping it out of the wrong hands." Ashe concluded.

"Naturally." The archer said grimly.

"I'll keep an eye on him if you intend to move out soon." The female archer said.

"I'm not leaving you alone with that lech." The other archer snapped. "If you stay behind, I'm also staying behind."

Ashe rubbed his temples and sighed. "Sylvain isn't going anywhere for the meanwhile. I'll need you to stay behind and watch him."

"If he's good to ride again, should we try to follow you?" The female archer asked.

"No. If we need your bows, I'll send a rider back to fetch you. If not, return to Fhirdiad. See to it that he gets the medical treatment he needs."

The three archers nodded.

"We won't let you down." The bandit turned archer saluted.

Ashe nodded as he turned to gather the rest of the warband.


Ingrid blinked as her captor stood over her, a cruel looking blade in hand.

When the ropes binding her wrists were cut, Ingrid lacked even the strength to lift her arms, simply letting them fall to the dirt.

Her captor sighed as she slid down in the shade next to her.

"Water?" The woman asked.

With weak, trembling shoulders, Ingrid tried to move her arms, but found herself lacking the strength to do so.

The woman scoffed as she opened a dull, earth coloured canteen, spilling precious water over Ingrid's lips as they both sat in the heat.

With her throat no longer parched, Ingrid found her voice again.

"Why are you helping me?"

"I don't know." The woman replied. "I suppose I'm just lonely. Enough to talk with you animals."

Ingrid paused at the insult, the hot summer making further conversation difficult.

"Could I see that knife?" Ingrid asked finally, breaking the silence.

"It's nothing special. A cheap knockoff." Her captor scoffed as she waved the blade about.

"What kind of knife is it?"

"It's a knockoff of the original Athame." The woman said boredly. "Not an original."

"Athame." Ingrid whispered. "I know the name."

"Kronya?" The woman asked.

The thought of the maniacal assassin flashed into Ingrid's mind as she sucked in a sudden breath.

"Bingo." The other woman laughed bitterly. "When news hit Shambhala about what she did, everyone and their grandmother was looking to make their own version. Don't think Spite was all too pleased with the craze."

"You knew Kronya?" Ingrid asked.

"I know the entire family." The woman snickered. "Bloody mess that debacle is."

"Family?"

"Of course. Kronya and her big brother and sister."

Ingrid frowned. "I didn't know that."

"Of course you didn't. We don't tell this to anybody. Especially not to savages like you."

"Are they like her?"

Her captor scoffed at the question. "If you look closely enough, then yes."

Ingrid shivered at the thought of two more laughing assassins stalking the shadows of Fodlan.


"You shouldn't be up." Mercedes said in her motherly voice as she rose from her seat.

"Ack." The other woman laughed weakly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I know you are feeling cooped up, but there's no point in watching you hurt yourself."

The other woman laughed weakly as she took a step back.

"Would you like to stay for tea?" Mercedes asked.

"Are there any letters from my brother?"

"Not that I'm aware of." Mercedes replied.

"I- I'm worried about him."

"We took good care of him." Mercedes assured the other woman. "There's nothing to worry about."

"I'll decline for the tea."

Mercedes nodded. "If you aren't hungry, we understand."

The woman nodded weakly as she turned back to the stairs. "I'll head back to my room then."

Mercedes finished her cup of tea and waited for the woman's steps to fade.

"Annie." Mercedes said softly. "If you want to talk, I'm here."

"You heard me then." Annette said quietly as she slipped through a side door.

"We're best friends." Mercedes said gently. "I know that there's something on your mind."

"I'm sorry." Annette said. "I shouldn't have tried to hide it."

"Tell me what's wrong then." Mercedes said as she gestured to the spot next to her on the bench.

"I saw father in Fhirdiad." Annette replied.

Mercedes didn't say anything, but her arms wrapped around Annette.

Annette took a choking gasp as she returned the hug. "I just want to see him again. Just one more time. For mother."

Mercedes didn't say anything.

"Merci." Annette whispered. "Thank you."

"Have you spoken with your uncle?" Mercedes asked.

Annette shook her head. "No."

"Then perhaps we should change that some day." Mercedes replied gently.

Annette nodded at the suggestion. "I want to know how mother is doing."


"Garreg Mach." Seteth said softly as their carriage slowed before the walls of the monastery.

Flayn opened her eyes slowly and watched the carriage lurch forward to the central keep.

"We're home." Seteth said softly.

Flayn nodded. "Home."

"We shouldn't be here long. Two days at the most."

Flayn nodded. "Can we visit the Officer's Academy?"

Seteth paused, his lips set in a thin line as he shook his head. "Too dangerous. We can't risk exposure."

Flayn glanced longingly at the towers but nodded as they passed, Seteth gently pushing their horse forward.

"There should be a tavern nearby we can eat at." Seteth said quickly.

"Do they have fish?" Flayn asked.

Seteth smiled weakly in return. "I'm sure they do."

A look of joy on Flayn's face made Seteth smile.

"Then it's settled." Seteth said as he eased his horse into a nearby stable. "Fish it is."

"Do you have perch?" Flayn asked a footman excitedly.

The man blinked. "Garreg Mach hasn't had fish since last summer. All the fish was used to feed the imperial army stationed here."

Flayn staggered back as if she had been physically attacked.

The man grimaced as he looked at the travelling couple. "Not much room here either. I'm afraid you might need to sleep in your carriage."

Seteth frowned. "Why is that? We can pay."

The man blinked. "Are you traders?"

Seteth paused for a moment before he nodded. "In a sense. We are here to get supplies to make a long trip."

The man shook his head. "It'll be hard to do that. The army distributes much of the food we have on hand. The meat is mostly poached at this point."

Seteth and Flayn shared a grim look.

"There are still traders around the Officer's Academy. The military's presence here has been lowered since the end of the war."

"War?" Seteth asked.

"We had a large surge of passerby after Fhirdiad fell." The man explained. "Mostly soldiers moving to new army posts or militiamen disbanding."

"Fhirdiad fell?" Flayn asked.

"It's been a while now." The man replied. "The entire kingdom is in ruins now."

Seteth swallowed hard as Flayn took a step back.

"We were on a supply trip to an isolated farmstead." Seteth said hastily. "We aren't really sure what has happened over the last while."

"Well, you missed a lot then." The man replied. "Arianrhod was destroyed by some kind of large scale spell. The Tailtean Plains have been reduced to a refugee camp."

"The Tailtean Plains are the breadbasket of the kingdom. And why would refugees not seek shelter in Fhirdiad?"

The man looked at Seteth strangely.

"When the Imperial Army came to besiege Fhirdiad, the archbishop ordered the city to be burned to the ground."

Seteth froze as the words rang in his head.

"Rhea." Seteth whispered slowly as he staggered back.

The man nodded. "I can't imagine how terrible life must be for those trapped inside the city."

Seteth nodded. "How is the city?"

"Inhabitable." The man replied. "It'll get worse by the time winter hits."

Seteth nodded grimly, thinking of the many harsh winters he had spent along the Rhodos Coast.

"Stable man!" A familiar voice called, and Seteth froze in place.

"It is good to see you again." The other man called to the street. "The mare you had us see if well."

"That's good to hear." The man said joyfully. "Who are-"

Seteth turned to face the man grimly, suddenly wishing he had his spear.

"Hello Seteth." The man said quietly.


AN: This week, my papers are finally finished (huurah).

Over the next few weeks, I'll be doing a minor rewrite of the first arc.

Topics that need fixing:

Lore. (The Enbarr Church Rebellion was canonically in 1065, not 1165).

In universe contradictions.

Names. I butchered Linhardt's name over the first few chapters and I've had like four different spellings of "Adrasteia".

That being said, with school out until the new year, expect chapters coming out at a faster pace than the usual 1 chapter per week format I've been running since the start of the story.

As always, Read. Review, Follow, etc.

Now looking for a potential beta reader.