Chapter 25: Para Bellum. Part 3.
Mortis sat by the side of the road as she waited for the imperial medic to heal her scrapes.
"You got lucky, my dear," the woman said as she healed away the last scrape. "A few hours of bed rest, and you should be good to go."
Mortis shook her head in turn, "I'm sorry, but I must leave soon, there is a report I have to deliver."
The medic gave her a long look, hurt evident in her eyes, "Promise me you won't strain yourself. You're going to work yourself into an early grave."
Mortis shook her head as she stood up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her head before she turned from the medic.
"Promise me that much," the medic said as Mortis left to leave. "I'm not going to let you go if you don't."
Mortis paused at the words before she turned back to the medic, observing the older woman with renewed interest.
"And why is it that you care?" Mortis asked. "Why do you care so much for my health? I'm a stranger to you."
The medic grimaced at the question as Mortis turned to leave.
"I have a sister your age," the medic said. "She works hard- too hard."
"You're projecting," Mortis observed. "You believe that I'm your sister."
The medic nodded, her lips pressed together, "Even so, I think you've gone through a lot in the past few days, I think you should rest."
Mortis shook her head as she thought of Spite and Aranea, her lips twisting into a grimace, "I'll keep that in mind."
"Lady Mortis?" a voice asked from the entrance of the tent.
"Captain," Mortis replied to the officer. "If all is in order, I'll leave for Garreg Mach."
The man nodded, "The first part of the trip can be done by carriage. Lady Kristen has informed me that you did not sleep last night."
Mortis nodded, "That's true, I spent my last night watching the guards at the barricade."
The captain nodded, "There is transportation available. Once you reach the next town down the river, you should be able to hire a horse for a night ride to Garreg Mach."
Mortis nodded as she took the information in, "And what about Maya?"
"She'll be with you, but I'm not sure she'll be comfortable with a night ride."
"She can continue on with the carriage then," Mortis replied. "Shouldn't arrive more than a day later than me."
The officer nodded, "Regardless, I wish you safe travels."
Aranea sneezed as she opened the door to Vault November, taking a moment to tighten the coat she had taken from her brother's closet.
"Are we ready to prepare the rites?" Solon asked from the far side of the machines, his frame clinging to the replacement Staff of Circe.
"Good," Thales said. "Pittacus has arrived, we can begin."
"My brother stated that we didn't all need to be here to awaken Nemesis," Aranea replied. "He said that awakening is rather easy."
"He is correct in both counts," Thales replied. "But this is a ceremony of triumph, and I wish for as many members of the Septet to witness it."
Aranea nodded, "Very well then, let us commence."
"How do we open this again?" Chilon asked from the side of one of the machines, wiping away a layer of frost from the glass. "Also, this one just has a few books inside of it."
"Books?" Solon asked. "That one should be empty."
"Periander has odd storage ideas," Thales said. "Think nothing of it."
"I apologize for my brother's storage habits," Aranea said. "Should I take those away?"
"There is no need," Thales replied. "Nemesis is our priority here."
"What in the world?"
Spite turned around as the convoy slowed and stopped, the soldier who had cried out now the focal point of attention.
"Is something wrong?" Spite asked, his eyes meeting those of the soldier. "Did you forget something?"
The man shook his head, his face pale, "No, I'm just- concerned we might be lost."
"We aren't," Spite replied, glancing around the wide open room. "If we were to surface here, we would be in the territory of House Galatea."
"Oh," the soldier said. "Sorry, a lot of us have never been down here before, and- well, it's disturbing down here."
"You mean the voices," Spite said. "Yes, it's a common part of Zahras."
"I-no," the soldier stammered. "I- I just saw a face in the darkness behind us."
"So you've met one of the denizens of Zahras then," Spite replied. "Not to worry, they can't hurt you."
"What are they?" a female soldier asked. "Ghosts?"
"In a sense," Spite replied. "Those are the souls of Agarthans throughout the ages who have been unable to find closure."
"They- they're us?"
"Talos, like I said, they cannot hurt us," Spite said, turning his gaze to the battalion leader. "They do not possess bodies, and the vast majority of them are mindless. They possess a single grudge they've held on through life."
"But that doesn't make sense," Talos replied. "How can they hold a grudge if they don't have a mind?"
"I believe it comes down to the fact that they understand a feeling of rage or remorse," Spite explained. "Simply put, these mindless ones have forgotten what it was they had a grudge against."
"Damn," a soldier said. "So what if we run into one?"
"They cannot harm you, for they do not have bodies," Spite replied. "But if you are feeling merciful, ghosts are vulnerable to magical damage."
"That's enough men," Vito said as he turned to Spite. "The more we stay and gawk at Spite, the longer we have to stay in this cursed realm."
"Then we move out." Spite replied. "We're about halfway there already."
Maya watched Mortis slumped over at the other end of the carriage, her chest rising and falling at a steady pace.
"We're here," a voice said. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize she was-"
"I'm awake now," Mortis mumbled, her eyes turning up to look at the man who had spoken. "How long until sunset?"
"Perhaps an hour at most," the man replied. "Are you sure you don't want to stay the night?"
Mortis shook her head, "I need to leave as soon as possible."
"At least let us treat you to a meal," the soldier said. "We couldn't have brought down that barrier without your help."
Mortis nodded as she stepped from the carriage, her arms folded around her waist, her eyes taking in the village before her.
"Is there anything you intend to eat here?" Maya asked as she stepped from the carriage.
"It would have to depend on what they have to offer," Mortis replied. "Perhaps a small sandwich and a cup of tea."
"There's a sauna in the tavern, should you wish to relieve yourself."
Mortis shook her head at the offer, "As much as I would like such a prospect, I must decline. Perhaps I will use the sauna in Garreg Mach once I have delivered my message."
"Will you tell my brother that I'll be coming?" Maya asked. "Will you tell him about Ignatz?"
"I'll tell the members of the Black Eagle Strike Force there," Mortis replied. "But at the end of the day, I answer only to Hubert von Vestra."
"I believe the Minister is in Enbarr," the soldier said. "Though in time, he's supposed to visit Garreg Mach."
"Too slow," Mortis replied. "The rebellion needs to be crushed at full haste, though I will leave the methods to him."
The soldier nodded, though his face was grim, "I'll do whatever I can to aid you, but first, we eat."
"Beast."
Marianne froze at the voice, her hand tightening into a fist as she turned around to face the scholar.
"You aren't supposed to be here," Marianne whispered, her eyes looking at the half-crazed face of the Crest scholar.
"Beast- did you think you could escape my eye?" the scholar hissed. "I will not rest until you are in the ground."
Marianne swallowed as she turned to Dorte, her mind wandering over if she had left any weapons within a pouch.
"For all your victims,I bring just-"
A orb of darkness cut the man off, the Crest scholar sent flying as a figure stepped from the shadows.
"Marianne," Hubert said, his face grim as he stopped next to her. "Are you injured?"
Marianne shook her head, "Hubert- what are you doing here?"
"Our convoy has simply arrived at Garreg Mach early," Hubert replied. "I heard a commotion here."
Marianne swallowed, "He- he accused me of being a beast."
"The beast that stalks the forests of Garreg Mach has been recorded since the reign of Emperor Lysander the Younger," Hubert replied. "Rest assured, you are not responsible for its many crimes."
Marianne swallowed as two guards rushed forward, seizing the man on the ground.
"Break his arms," Hubert barked. "Attacking a member of the Black Eagles Strike Force is a serious crime that deserves a vicious punishment."
"How many places?" one of the soldiers asked. "Will three places suffice?"
"Make it four." Hubert replied. "Ensure the medics turn him away."
"What is going on here?" Seteth asked as he rushed forward. "Marianne, are you alright?"
"Seteth," Hubert observed. "I believe your words were that you were going into hiding?"
"Hubert," Seteth replied, his eyes turning to Hubert. "There is no need to be snide."
"What are you doing here?" Hubert asked. "Garreg Mach would hardly constitute a hiding place, especially not with so many refugees within its walls."
"Hubert, have you secured-" Edelgard started. "Hello Seteth."
"Edelgard," Seteth replied, his tone neutral.
"You will address the Emperor of the Adrestian Empire as such," Hubert warned Seteth. "She is Lady Edelgard to you."
"Hubert, that's enough," Edelgard said. "Seteth, or rather, Cichol, what are you doing here?"
"There was a certain threat against Lady Marianne," Hubert explained, gesturing to the figure between the two soldiers. "He has been dealt with."
"Marianne, are you alright?" Edelgard asked. "Were you harmed?"
Marianne shook her head, "I'm fine. He never got close to me."
"See to it that he's disposed of," Edelgard said, giving the Crest scholar a murderous glare. "I will not tolerate attacks against my subordinates. Not now, not ever."
"El, Hubert," Byleth said as he hurried to the scene. "What happened here?"
"An attack against Lady Marianne," Hubert explained, kicking the man hoisted between the soldiers. "It has been dealt with."
Byleth nodded, turning his gaze to Seteth, "Seteth, I see that you're alive and well."
"I'm glad to say the same for you," Seteth replied. "But there is much to discuss."
"What is there to discuss?" Byleth asked. "Has something happened?"
"My brother Indech has been attacked by the scions of Agartha," Seteth admitted. "I fear an attack on Flayn as well."
The mention of the enemy chilled the air, as Byleth and Edelgard exchanged a glance.
"We will discuss this at another time," Byleth promised, though his face was dark. "But we've travelled a long time, and there are other matters at hand."
"Seteth, we will host a council tomorrow," Edelgard said. "We will discuss what to do about this entire situation."
Seteth nodded as a man rushed forward to the group.
"Kyle," Hubert acknowledged. "Is something the matter?"
"Ah, Hubert, there's a- bah!"
"Kyle," Byleth stated, placing a hand on the gatekeeper's shoulder. "Take a breath before you continue your report."
"Ah, professor!" the guard exclaimed before he turned to Edelgard, "My emperor."
"Commence with your report," Hubert reminded the man. "What is it that requires our attention?"
"There are signs of a riot in the centre of town," the guard replied. "There seems to be a rumour that the beast ravaging supply lines is a member of the Black Eagles Strike Force."
Edelgard turned to Hubert, her face lined with rage, "What was it that you had planned for him?"
"Breaking his arms in four different places," Hubert replied. "Two for each arm."
"Break his jaw," Byleth ordered. "If he's going to be running around Garreg Mach, we can't have him spreading false rumours about Marianne."
"I speak the truth!" the man protested. "You would protect a monster?"
Seteth pressed his lips together, his hands clenched into fists as he glared at the man.
"You seem like you have something to say," Byleth said as he turned to Seteth. "Is something bothering you?"
Seteth closed his eyes for a moment before he turned to the man, his fist throwing the man's head back.
Byleth exchanged a glance with Edelgard as the two guards hoisted the man up again.
"Get going," Hubert barked, waving the two guards away. "We need to meet the rest of Garreg Mach."
"Will he survive?" Count Gloucester asked the guard at the entrance to the makeshift hospital, his hands clasped behind his back as he toured the building, giving nods of encouragement to the various labourers who had put out the fires.
"We believe so," the guard said. "But the medics have stated that he'll likely never walk again. The magic used by the imperial agent was powerful, and he had lost a great deal of blood before we could rescue him."
"What was it that we recovered from the trunk?" Count Gloucester asked. "I was told that there was a matter of considerable interest inside."
"Gold bars, my lord," the guard replied. "Stamped with the sigils of House Ordelia."
"Can you be certain of this?" Count Gloucester asked as he crossed into the private bedroom of Count Acheron, the blond man sprawled on a large bed. "This is very important information."
"We can, my lord," the guard said. "It would appear to be the vast majority of the old house's treasury."
"The amount seized by the Adrestian Empire?" Count Gloucester asked.
"We cannot be sure, for the empire destroyed or stole House Ordelia's financial records."
"So be it," Count Gloucester replied. "I will let you deal with the situation. Ensure whatever gold that can be confirmed to be sourced from House Ordelia is returned."
"Of course sir, shall we leave you be with the Count?"
"Naturally," Count Gloucester replied as his subordinate hurried away.
"Edgar, I- I."
"You are unworthy of speaking my name," Count Gloucester snarled as he towered over the bedridden man. "As you are unworthy of the title on your shoulders."
"You would say that to a fellow noble of the alliance?" Acheron choked out. "You- with all your nobility?"
"You would use the word nobility?" Count Gloucester replied, raising an eyebrow. "You consider yourself a noble?"
"I am a noble!" Acheron cried. "You would dare deny that fact?"
"You have stolen and swindled your paltry gains, and your lands are rotting as we speak," Count Gloucester replied. "Your actions piss on those of your forefathers, who were the ones who earned the title you have soiled."
"You- you would say such things?" Acheron spat. "How dare you?"
"And such words from the man who sought to steal my land," Count Gloucester snarled. "The man who tried to murder my son, who fled from a battle he had been called to when the tide turned, who starves his own serfs to encourage banditry."
Acheron glared at Count Gloucester as he lay in his bed, "Bastard."
"You would call me a bastard?" Count Gloucester hissed as he seized the bedridden man's face, forcing Acheron to look into his eyes. "It was your hand that stole imperial war supplies meant for House Galatea. How many children have you condemned to an early death with your reckless greed?"
"And you were the one who rebelled!" Acheron shouted, spittle landing on the other's man's face. "You raised the flag of rebellion against the emperor! Not me!"
"Because I have the courage to recognize that one day, a spineless sycophant like you might take power. I will not condemn my lands to an unworthy ruler, not while you and cowards like you linger in the bowels of this continent."
"You, you-"
"As for my rebellion, I fight for the lost children of House Ordelia," Count Gloucester snarled, his grip tightening around the blond man's jaw. "I don't suppose you know who they were?"
Acheron said nothing, though he flailed a useless arm against Gloucester's coat.
"Lucrezia, Fiora, Maria and Tessa," Count Gloucester snarled, his face inches away from the face of the craven noble. "Dante, Marco, Antonio, do these names mean anything to you?"
Acheron was silent, his visible eye quivering in terror.
"I was there when Maria was born," Count Gloucester hissed as he leaned close to the bedridden count, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was named her godfather. I was there when they burned a pyre for her, because the imperial dogs who killed her never told her parents where they dumped her body."
"Now let me ask you," Count Gloucester whispered, his second hand crushing the exposed hand of Acheron. "Where were you when the pyre for Tessa burned? Antonio? Fiora? Little Dante, not even in his first year when his life ended?"
"Stop! Stop! My hand hurts!" Acheron managed. "My hand!"
"I was told that you spent that particular week in a whorehouse," Count Gloucester continued, his voice quiet, barely audible over Acheron's screams. "That you had not even the smallest of clues that the tragedy had unfolded."
"Count?"
Count Gloucester turned to face the messenger at the door, throwing the mewling form of Acheron off the infirmary bed, "What is it?"
"We've scanned the gold in the trunk, all from House Ordelia. It would appear the two other imperials were transporting the gold when we surprised them."
Count Gloucester nodded as he turned to the man on the bed, his face contemplative.
"Is there something we should do?" the messenger asked as he peered over the bed. "About erm, Count Acheron?"
"See to it that he's transferred to the dungeons," Count Gloucester snarled. "We have other, more important patients who require the bed."
"Noted," the messenger replied. "And what of the prisoner?"
"Separate him from my son," Count Gloucester said. "There is much I will need to… discuss with him."
"Naturally," the man said. "Are there any… conditions that Acheron be-"
"He stole grain from the hand who fed him," Count Gloucester replied. "See to it that he is fed no grain until he either recovers or dies, preferably the later."
"Good, more food for our people," the messenger said with a scoff. "I'll be off then."
Count Gloucester nodded as he reached the entrance of the hospital, turning away from his country to face the rushing Airmid River and the warm summer night.
"Seteth?" Byleth called as he stepped through the main hall. "Are the kitchens still cooking?"
"I do not believe so," Seteth replied. "Though there may be some leftovers."
Byleth nodded, "Shall we go into dinner?"
Edelgard pursed her lips before she nodded, "It would be rude to ask the cooks to make extra, particularly when we failed to give them advance notice."
"Seteth, may I- oh, sorry Professor, I didn't see you there."
"Linhardt," Byleth said with a nod. "I trust you are well?"
Linhardt nodded in reply, "Though there are some issues that need to be addressed in the coming days."
"Like the rioters outside," Hubert guessed. "And this… Beast."
"Hubert," Linhardt observed. "I didn't- oh, Edelgard."
"We apologize if we've arrived earlier than what we promised," Edelgard said. "There were certain matters we believed we could not solve in Enbarr."
Linhardt nodded, "Have Professor Manuela and Professor Hanneman returned?"
"They have," Hubert said. "Still, I have not seen them since we left the carriages."
"Ah, Seteth, I've been meaning to- Hubert? Edelgard? Professor?"
"I believe we should sit down while we conduct this conversation," Edelgard suggested. "There are obviously many orders of business to discuss tonight."
"Are you sure that'll be all you will need?" the guard asked as Mortis climbed on top of her horse. "If you can wait for the morning, we could have some of the village guards escort us along the way."
Mortis shook her head as she tied her hair back into a ponytail, her face grim as she watched the dark road ahead, "I'll be fine, but I wish to thank the tavern owner for the change in clothes. They are certainly more comfortable than what I had been wearing before."
"You are aware of the road then?" the guard asked.
"Just follow the river," Mortis replied. "Yes, I'm aware."
The guard nodded, pausing as he turned about, "I must warn you though, there is a great beast that hides within the forests south of Garreg Mach."
Mortis blinked.
"There are rumours that it is becoming particularly active in recent weeks."
"Maurice," Mortis muttered. "Annoying bastard."
"Pardon?" the guard asked. "Maurice?"
Mortis shook her head, "A former colleague of mine, he was devoured by the beast some time ago, I apologize if that confused you."
"Ah," the guard said, his face concerned. "I'm sorry for your loss, but please, be careful."
"Same with you," Mortis replied as she urged the horse forward. "But pardon me, I must leave now."
"We are here," Spite said as he glanced around the room he had entered, taking a series of steps into the gloom as he pulled a severed heart from the folds of his cloak. "Talos, report on your squad."
Talos glanced behind him, his face grim, "My men are tired, I'm unsure if they are going to be able to cross over to the other side tonight."
Spite nodded as he turned to the rest of the squad leaders present, "Vito, Percival, Umbral, report."
"My men are tired as well," Vito said. "If possible, we should rest here for the night before we head in tomorrow."
"I second that," Umbral said. "Even if we were to cross over, Olympia's squadron is effectively useless."
"Percival, go help Olympia squad along," Spite barked. "They had the most difficulty traversing the terrain."
"What do we do then?" Talos asked. "Rest up for the night? Cook some dinner?"
"Correct," Spite replied. "But I've been meaning to go over some maps while we still can, prepare your teams for what we might find on the other side."
Vito glanced at his fellow squad leaders before he spoke, "What are we looking at? Defensive strongpoints, potential infiltration areas?"
Spite nodded in response, "That is correct. I will also need your teams to take inventory before we move in."
"What do you mean by useful inventory?" Talos asked. "Weapons? Armour?"
"And other things," Spite replied. "In particular, I'm interested in if anyone brought along a false Athame."
The other squad leaders flinched at the request.
"Pardon?" Talos asked. "I'm not sure I heard you correctly."
"As distasteful as I find the practice, I know that the false Athames have become a particularly popular form of weapon ever since the death of Jeralt Eisner," Spite explained with a scoff. "Still, from what I can gather, the quality of the knives is generally passable."
"Why do you want them?" Vito asked.
"Corpse eating," Spite replied. "I trust none of you have ever heard of the practice?"
Vito and Talos exchanged a glance as Umbral spoke up, "Is that a fancy term for cannibalism?"
"In a sense," Spite replied. "Entrance to and from Zaharas is very difficult, it requires a certain artifact."
"What is this artifact exactly?" Vito asked. "I've never actually travelled through Zaharas before today."
"An Agathan heart," Spite replied, his eyes meeting Vito's eyes. "Do you remember my execution of the traitor?"
"You sent him to Zaharas," Vito said. "You- you used his own heart to complete the ritual?"
"That is correct," Spite replied. "There are other, more… esoteric uses for a heart, but entrance to and from Zaharas is the main use for them."
"So what do we need the daggers for?" Talos asked.
"In the event that we find that Bias' expedition has met an untimely end, we must collect the hearts from the corpses," Spite explained. "To do this, a long dagger, generally around the size of my Athame, is going to be required."
"Ah, I see." Vito said. "Would a sword work?"
Spite shook his head, "Too long and awkward for cutting, we need daggers or knives."
"We'll ask around then," Vito said. "Where will you be?"
Spite frowned as he glanced around the cavern, his finger pointed at a shattered column, "The pillar over there will be a good meeting spot once we have eaten."
Aranea wiped a sheen of sweat from her head as the machine whirred and opened, a stream of mist filling Vault November as Nemesis rose from his grave, the hulking bandit taking a moment to look around his surroundings.
"Nemesis," Thales barked. "Agartha has found a need for your services."
"Is that so?" Nemesis asked as he climbed from the frigid prison, his muscular arms covered in scars. "And why is it that you need me?"
"Our forces wish to invite you into the final battle against the Nabateans," Thales said, his tone even. "We offer you the chance to slaughter the last of the Nabateans."
"You offer me much," Nemesis said. "Why?"
Aranea glanced at Thales, her hands clasped firmly behind her back.
"Because we are here to make amends for the mistakes of our ancestors," Thales replied. "They robbed you of the chance to destroy the Nabateans, and failed to stand by your side when you went to war, and for that we apologize."
Nemesis sneered, "Spare me your lies. I desire only two things."
"And what may they be?" Thales asked.
"First, the head of Seiros. Grant me that, and my blade is yours."
Aranea blinked at the request, her hands clasped behind her.
"Is there a problem with this request?" Nemesis asked, his eyes finding Aranea's eyes. "You seem hesitant."
"And what is your second request?" Thales asked.
"Why is your woman so fearful?" Nemesis asked. "Have I found a nerve?"
Aranea wished that she had joined her brother on his expedition, though she kept still, her eyes staring straight forward.
"I asked you one question," Nemesis said, his hand finding Aranea's cheek, his frigid yet forceful grip forcing her to look into his eyes. "Is there a problem with this request?"
"The Nabatean known as Seiros is dead," Thales said, his eyes empty as Nemesis dropped his hand away from Aranea, turning his gaze to Thales. "She was slain in battle."
"Then why do you need me at all?" Nemesis asked.
"What issues at hand do we have?" Edelgard asked as the table around her exchanged glances as the dinner plates were cleared away.
"There are three issues," Seteth said as he exchanged glances with Yuri, Linhardt, and Ferdinand. "One is rather immediate, and the other two more distant."
"You speak of the beast in the Southern Forest," Edelgard said, her hands clasped together as she listened to Seteth. "And what are the other issues?"
Seteth swallowed as he exchanged a glance with Linhardt, "The other two, well, all three are linked to the Agarthan civilization."
"Those who slither in the dark," Hubert growled. "The scions of Shambhala."
"You have dealt with them then," Seteth said, his gaze on Hubert.
"Naturally," Hubert said. "We've some dealings with them in the past."
"May I assume that you are no longer allies?" Seteth asked, his posture tense.
"You may," Edelgard said, glancing at Byleth. "It is regretful that we had ever affiliated ourselves with them."
Linhardt coughed, "They- they know."
Edelgard closed her eyes and clenched her fists, "I- I see."
"They are responsible for all three of these issues," Seteth said. "Either directly or indirectly."
"Explain," Hubert replied. "What do you mean by that?"
Seteth exchanged a glance with Indech before he turned to Edelgard, "The beast's name is Maurice."
Edelgard narrowed her eyes, "Is he another victim of the Hero's Relics?"
Seteth paused, "Maurice is both a victim and a perpetrator. He was originally a thief alongside Nemesis, but was turned into his present form by the power of his Relic weapon."
"His own Relic turned against him?" Edelgard asked, her voice hard. "How?"
Seteth shook his head, "We cannot be sure. Perhaps the blade found him unworthy, or he was betrayed by his fellows."
"The Elites turned on each other?" Ferdinand asked, his face shocked. "How? Why?"
"The Elites lost cohesion after Nemesis fell," Seteth said. "We believe the scions of Agartha had also begun to hunt them down."
"Why?" Edelgard asked, her eyes focused on Seteth. "What reason could they have for turning on their own allies?"
"Why did you turn on Cornelia Armin then?" Seteth asked. "Was she not an Agarthan agent?"
"How did you know that?" Hubert asked. "Unless someone told you?"
"We are not so foolish to discount evidence," Seteth replied. "During the war, Baron Dominic attended the Council of Fhirdiad alongside a certain representative of Cornelia's."
"Who was this representative?" Edelgard asked as she exchanged a glance with Hubert.
"A dark knight by the name of Mortis," Seteth said, taking a moment to watch Edelgard and Hubert freeze in their seats. "Judging from your reactions, you know very well who she was."
Hubert swallowed before he began, his voice hard, "We can confirm that she was an agent of Shambhala, or as you call it, Agartha."
Seteth grimaced, "The fell city of Shambhala, still hidden after all these years."
"How did you know this Mortis?" Hapi asked, her attention rapt.
"You know of her as well?" Seteth asked, his face concerned.
"Cornelia mentioned her name once," Hapi said. "She- she said that Mortis was late with supplies, never saw her though."
"And why was it that you found that name so interesting?" Hubert asked.
"Anselma mentioned her," Hapi said. "Said she was a spiteful murderess."
Edelgard flinched at the mention of her mother, her hands clenched into fists.
"I- I think we should call for a break," Byleth said as he stood up, his steps fast as he neared Edelgard, half carrying her out of the room.
"Did I say something wrong to Chatterbox?" Hapi asked. "And why did he take Eddy with him?"
Hubert grimaced as he stood up from his side of the table, whispering into Hapi's ear.
"Oh-," Hapi said. "I shouldn't have said that."
Spite watched the sleeping form of Percival sprawled on the ground next to his kit, the young commander snoring loudly as Spite nudged him with his toe.
"He's asleep?" Vito asked, his eyes heavy.
Spite glanced around, finding Olympia and Umbral similarly asleep elsewhere in the large square.
"Vito, Talos, it appears that we will not be able to get to that meeting tonight," Spite said. "No matter, ensure that you wake early tomorrow."
"We've done a search of our squads," Talos offered. "Two of my men own Athame replicas, although they are of rather poor quality."
"So long as the blades will not break, then I do not believe we will have an issue," Spite replied. "And other knives?"
"All my men brought along some form of knife, either for close quarters combat or for eating," Talos reported. "All of them appear to be in acceptable shape."
Vito nodded, "I concur, though none of my men had any Athames, two of them confessed to having hid theirs to avoid your wrath."
"And how many other knives did they bring?" Spite asked.
"Eight knives," Vito replied. "One of my soldiers likes to collect the things, and she brought alongside six."
"Very well," Spite said. "Get some rest while you can, I will go over the ground plans over breakfast then."
"Same to you sir," Talos said as he turned back to his squad. "Same to you."
"I can walk now," Edelgard complained as Byleth rushed her through the halls of Garreg Mach.
Byleth turned around behind him before he slowed his pace, his arms still draped over Edelgard's shoulders.
"I- I didn't see that coming," Edelgard whispered as the two of them stepped into an open courtyard. "To- to think that I've fought alongside her for years, and yet, I didn't know that."
Byleth nodded as he let go of Edelgard, the two of them spending a long moment staring at the moon above.
"I was told by Caspar there's a spot near the Officer's Academy for moments like these," Byleth whispered into Edelgard's ear. "Should we go there?"
Edelgard murmured a quiet word of confirmation as she let Byleth lead her away from the school.
"So-" Edelgard said as she sunk to her knees, her legs folding under her. "This is what you wanted to show me?"
"Do you like it?" Byleth asked as he sat down next to her. "I wasn't sure if this was somewhere you knew about."
"I- I feel foolish now," Edelgard admitted. "Even this beautiful scene was something Caspar was hiding from me all this time."
"I don't think he was hiding it," Byleth replied, his voice soft. "I found out about it when I watched him carry Bernadetta here."
Edelgard raised an eyebrow and hid a laugh, "Really? That's not something I could picture happening."
"I agree," Byleth replied. "She spent the trip screaming for him to be let down."
Edelgard cracked a smile at the comment, her eyes finding the distant moon, "If I were to- change."
"El." Byleth said, his voice firm.
Edelgard blinked as she glanced at Byleth, surprised by the tone of Byleth's voice.
"That won't happen," Byleth said. "I won't let it, not now, not never."
Edelgard nodded as she laid her head against Byleth's shoulder, her eyes gazing into his face.
"When this war is over," Byleth said after a moment of silence. "I want to destroy the Hero's Relics. They've claimed too many victims over the generations."
"When all of this is over," Edelgard replied. "A bonfire for tomorrow."
"A bonfire for tomorrow," Byleth said. "A tribute for yesterday."
Edelgard nodded as she tore herself away from Byleth, her hands tossing away her boots as he watched from the side.
"We never did find a pair that was comfortable to walk in," Byleth observed. "Perhaps we could fix that here?"
Edelgard sighed, "Yes, that was a mistake, not finding something comfortable to travel in. Why did I let Hubert talk me into wearing these things?"
Byleth replied with a slight chuckle, "I'm not sure about that, he never anticipated having to fight in mud."
"Remind me to have these murder weapons removed from my armour," Edelgard said. "I'm never going into battle again wearing these things."
"Wasn't that set of armour a legacy set from an earlier emperor?" Byleth asked.
"It was, and I'm sure she wanted to destroy those things even more than I did," Edelgard grumbled. "Perhaps I will honour her memory as such."
"Looks like we have a lot to bring down," Byleth said with a smile. "Together."
Edelgard nodded as she inched closer to Byleth.
"I have a request for tonight though," Byleth said. "Just for the two of us."
"And what is that?" Edelgard asked.
"Let's be alone, just for a little while longer," Byleth replied. "Watching this beautiful world."
"I can permit that," Edelgard replied as she yawned, their fingers entwined.
"El?" Byleth asked.
"Yes?" Edelgard answered in turn. "What is it?"
"Am I still your favourite pillow?"
Edelgard blushed at the question, "Of course, for now and always."
"Then I ask you to prove it," Byleth said, a gleam in his eye. "Rest-"
Edelgard grinned as she pushed him onto his back, landing on his chest as she followed through, a gleam on her eyes.
Byleth watched Edelgard as she sunk her face against his.
"Now, pillow, take me to sleep," Edelgard ordered, her tone teasing.
"Glad-"
"No pillow," Edelgard chided her consort, their eyes meeting. "Prove it."
Byleth grinned as his arms moved to trap Edelgard in his embrace, his arms nudging her face closer to his, "As you say then, my emperor, I'll take you to sleep."
Then he kissed her, their lips brushing for a long moment before Byleth moved forward, his tongue slipping past her defenses.
Edelgard made a sound of joy as she counterattacked, her own tongue refusing to budge, biding her time for the perfect blow.
When Byleth danced his tongue to explore her, Edelgard struck, striking a critical blow to pin her professor in place, his eyes widening in surprise as she savoured the sweet victory.
"Is-" Byleth started, conceding defeat as Edelgard smirked.
"Shush pillow," Edelgard chided Byleth as her eyes fluttered shut. "Your emperor demands sleep."
AN: Another chapter complete. As always, please review, though something tells me that I'm going to get 0 again (Sigh).
Next Chapter:
Beauty and the Beast
Proud Defiance
Deal with the Devil
Necropolis
A war on
