"We strike!" Starloon's sword flickered into an expertly placed thrust.

Byleth leaned forward into the strike, his own sword kept close to his body. His free hand whipped up into a hook, which Starloon ducked under. "Who's 'we'?" Byleth queried. He danced away from Starloon's swipe at his feet, blade flickering out in a defensive thrust.

"Take away the joy, why don't you?" he shot back. He rolled to dodge the thrust and, backed by a wind spell, thrust the sharp edge of his sword forward while holding it diagonally, pushing Byelth's blade outward. He delivered a fast straight with a curled fist, but Byleth danced backward again. He eyed the clearing edge warily, aware of how close he was to stumbling out of bounds.

"You're overextending yourself," Byelth warned.

"And you're losing ground," Starloon shot back. Nosferatu rippled outward from his hands.

Fair, but that's easy to change.

Byleth rushed forward, weaving around the faith magic. Click-click, his sword came down in precise strikes, snaking around Starloon's defenses. "Keep your guard up," he quipped, voice airy and light. He parried a counterattack with ease, punishing it with a straight that caught Starloon on the shoulder.

Starloon's grimace was a pleasant sight. He let out his own straight, but Byleth easily caught it and threw Starloon over his body. He rolled snarling, his hands flying outward to cast Wind.

"And you need to learn how to commit more!" He leapt forward, covered by the Wind spell, and brought his sword down heavily, it's power further accentuated with Thunder. Byleth stumbled backward, barely bringing his sword up again to block the follow-up thrust.

Byleth winced, noting the numbness in his arm. Perhaps gaining ground wasn't that easy.

Byleth let the next blow slide off his sword, and snapped his foot outward hard.

"Ack!"

Starloon would definitely be feeling that one tonight.

"Sagittae!" Byleth sharp voice rang outwards.

Starloon fell into a roll and pivoted. "Sagittae!" he wheezed slightly, drawing out the first syllable.

Through the smoke, Byleth pursued, crouched low and blade flickering out to catch a roll. Starloon summoned Wind and vaulted over Byleth, backpedaling and getting into a defensive stance. "Not so fast!" Starloon yelled. He caught the next two blows in a more favorable position, a grim smile on his face, body low and eyes narrowed; a madman who was losing the advantage. He sprung up, eyes alight, blade sweeping outward defensively, and flipped back with an impressive show of acrobatics to the center of the training area. Swordpoint out, he flipped his hair, glistening beads of sweat falling from his bangs. "And so we find ourselves here once more."

"Drama queen," Byleth shook his head. Seeing that another mercenary was waiting, he sheathed his sword and threw him a skin of water.

"It's what I do best," he winked. He caught the skin with grace, taking a long swig. He winced. "That kick is going to stay with me tonight isn't it?"

"Yep."

"Was it really necessary?"

"Well yes, but actually no."

Starloon merely sobbed, then instantly regretted it when his side flashed with more pain.


"Flower?" Starloon offered.

"You can't bribe me into being your friend," Beleth sighed.

Regardless, she still took the flower with a light blush and a beaming smile.


"Why are my danger senses tingling?" Starloon muttered.

Byleth's eyes glinted in the darkness.


"Kid, you alright?" Jeralt nudged the cloth mass in the middle of the path.

Byleth jumped up from his cape cocoon, slightly sheepish. "Don't mind me," he sighed.


"A new mission?" Starloon entered the war tent, dusting his hands against each other. Stopping in front of the table, his body bobbed comically, practically hopping into place. With a wink, he continued, "I am willing to serve."

"Don't be so willing yet," Beleth groaned. She still wasn't okay with the plan, regardless of who she was paired with. "We're using warp strats."

"And," Starloon drawled. "I don't see the problem here. Warp strats are best strats."

"Into a thief stronghold?"

Starloon deflated slightly. "I'm sure it will be fine." He rubbed his hands together. "Who's being sent?"

"You and Beleth," Byleth cut in. "Our father told us to fill you in." He gestured to the large map in the center of the room. "This is a general layout of the field we'll be fighting on. The objective is to purge a bandit nest in noble territory, and retrieve a stolen heirloom unscathed."

"I suppose that's where the warp strats come in?" Starloon raised his brow.

Byleth nodded. "We can't risk the enemy using the artifact as a bargaining chip. And more people means more liability and chances to be seen. I trust you two's abilities enough. All you need to do is get into position, wait for our initial assault, then use the distraction to escape with the heirloom."

"I still don't like it," Beleth frowned.

"It'll be fine," Starloon dismissed. "I got you after all."


Everything was not fine.

"Your soul is mine!" Starloon intoned, eyes wide with exhilaration.

The creepy grin that Starloon wore made him look all the closer to an insane version of Hubert, waves of bloodlust rolling off his form. His sword swung in a wide arc, cutting the latest bandit clean across his chest, a fast trail of blood leaving a long red line on the stone tile floor.

Bloodlust or no, at least Starloon was strong. Beleth already struggled to keep Dimitri alive, and the man would often solo entire squads of soldiers with ease.

"This is why you don't hire two merc groups without telling both of them!" Beleth cursed softly. The other mercenary group was spotted escaping with the artifact, and Beleth had to pry it off of the guard that retrieved it.

Even worse, Starloon decided that, "Hey, now would be a great time to go Dimitriā„¢ on these people!", and ended up slaughtering more than Byleth's entire army.

"Oh look," Starloon cackled, sheathing his sword into another body. "You're dead."

Case in point. This is why defensive tactics are never a good idea.

(Except the 90% of the time they are, but that's not the point).

Starloon leapt out of the guard tower, a burst of wind carrying him far into another group of enemies. His sword was the baton; the respondent the blood river that flowed.

(Wait, was the blood actually hovering in the air? Okay, now he's just being flashy.)

"Come on, come on! Give me a fight," Starloon laughed. His sword plunged relentlessly into a mutilated corpse, each thrust of his sword turning its appearance closer and closer to a pincushion. Beleth followed suit, landing in a safer location and working her way from there. By the time she arrived, he was already surrounded by piles of bodies, each more broken than the last.

"Your flank!" Beleth cried out worriedly. She grimaced as she was forced to stop and deal with her own group of enemies.

"So close," Starloon spun around, sword lopping a bandit's head clean off. Thunder rippled around him, ozone and ash following the dull thumps of falling bodies.

Beleth frowned with concern, her own opponents disposed of with a quick Fire spell. Before Starloon could run off again, she tapped him on the shoulder with a light Wind spell. "Are you okay?" she spoke out hesitantly.

The flickering light in front of Starloon puttered out, heavy breathing replacing the hum. In response to Beleth's call, his eyes closed a fraction, the light of sanity coming back to them. "It's gotten worse," he murmured distastefully. "This bloodlust..."

No heck, Sherlock.

Beleth moved herself to Starloon's back. He couldn't head another assault in this condition. "Could it be a result of the new experiments?"

"Manifesting now? Possible. I am entering my teen years I suppose," he chuckled breathily. He raised his shield against an incoming arrow, Beleth returning the shot with her own bow. "Have I gotten more handsome yet?" He winked.

Yes, but that's not the point.

"Not important!" Beleth dismissed him. Not the place to think about his "Charm +20" personal skill. "We need to regroup, get out of here." She scanned the battlefield for an avenue of escape. "Be a dear and try to make sure we don't get killed, won't you?"

"What do I do against the snipers and ballistae?"

Beleth shrugged slightly, pushing them down to avoid a meteor. "And the mages," Starloon added, wincing at the crater that the spell created.

"I dunno, hit them back," Beleth rolled, releasing an arrow towards the offending mage, "We held lessons for a reason you know."

"Not exactly a place to practice," Starloon muttered. They ducked into a forest, the foilage protecting them from part of the onslaught. Starloon unslung his bow and took aim, the creaking of the bow in unison with a sharp intake of breath. "Vibe check." The arrow flew a fair distance before pegging a meteor mage in the chest.

"Nice shot," Beleth said with approval.

"Beginners luck."

Beleth drew her sword and rushed out, drawing a clean hit across an axman's chest. The duo leaped into the next forest, repeating the process; Attack, move to the next "safe" point.

It worked, Beleth supposed. It wasn't the fastest or most fun way, but it worked.

"Let this be a lesson!" A wyvern came crashing down on the field in front of them, the rider taking out the entire group easily.

"You aren't a professor yet!" Starloon shouted, waving his arms. Beleth led the limping man to the wyvern.

"Habit," Byleth shrugged. He pulled Starloon up, then got off of the saddle. "You retrieved the heirloom, correct?" Starloon nodded. "Hm." Byleth turned to his sister with a raised eyebrow. "He good?" Byleth asked.

"His bloodlust got worse."

"Dimitri level?"

"No, not quite. He can still regain control reliably."

"Lovely chat about the person in front of you and all," Starloon protested, already slinging spells outwards upon approaching enemies. He narrowly swatted an incoming arrow and gestured wildly at the advancing forces. "But can we have this conversation before we get turned into a practice target?"

Byleth hummed dismissively. "Got enough strength to fly?"

"Sadly, yes," Starloon sighed. "Did we really have to accept a job storming a criminal base?" he whined.

"You literally took out half of the opposing forces," Byleth deadpanned.

"Beleth OP, please nerf!" Starloon yelled, ascending into the air.


"Give me a spark!"

Byleth responded immediately, Elfire tome already igniting in the chilly air. A wind blast ripped through the fire, sending great billows of flame through the advancing enemy line.

The fluttering of paper cut over the fading sound of chaos, Starloon's wind tome appearing through the thick snowfall. Three other tomes swirled around him, twin Levin swords adding to his intimidating stature. Even so soon after the fight began, the furline of his winter clothing was matted with blood, and hair stuck to a forehead covered with rapidly cooling sweat.

"Return the boy, and we'll stop our assault." The ominous message's words were as chilling as the air around them. "This city will be the first to burn."

"Damn. So soon, huh?" He let lose a mirthless chuckle, flickering crest winking out of sight. Even though he was yelling, the pace at which they were moving made much of the sound to be lost to the wind.

"Only our 14th birthday," Byleth confirmed. His blank stare evaluated the passing battlefield, hands snapping occasionally to send Elfire bursts into approaching mercenaries. The importance and time sensitivity compelled him to bring his best equipment for the fight.

The silken robes of the Mortal Savant were a welcome feeling, if only for the day.

Starloon rushed forward, his blade easily embedding itself into another person's rib cage, an electric shock ending any suffering early and violently throwing the body into a tree. "Hope Beleth's okay."

Byleth merely hummed in agreement. He knew she would be fine protecting the townsfolk.

"Well, aren't you chatty today."

More wind erupted from Starloon's hands, the duo riding it to vault gracefully into another enemy outpost. Levin swords crackled in unison as great thunderbolts were brought down upon the encampment, ending all and any struggle instantly.

A quick glance told them all they needed to know. "No masks," Starloon muttered.

As if on cue, the grotesque silhouettes of demonic beasts appeared in the direction of the city, their roars reaching even to the far distance Byleth traveled.

Byleth blinked. "Heck."

"Tribute time boyos."

Starloon pulled the tome the messenger gave them at the start of the battle. His feet shifted uneasily and his breaths became more full. "And I dealt with these outdated things too," he said, gesturing to the tomes. He chuckled sadly, face looking up towards the falling snow. "I'll miss this," he murmured, eyes clouded and expression thoughtful. He shrugged, and rolling his neck, said "Ah well. Won't be long, I'm sure." He let loose one last sigh, and hardened his expression. "Return to the city and help Beleth clean up. With luck, they'll hold up their part of the bargain and withhold from attacking Fhirdiad. We'll find the warp priests next run."

Byleth shook his head in disappointment. Another run where they had to resort to the contingency plan. Byleth internally added a tally mark to fate's side, already compiling what they learned from this run. "You shall be missed." His emerging baritone only hinted at the man Starloon would never get to see.

He gave a short laugh, filled with faux-confidence and a hint of wistfulness, the bittersweet sound tainted by circumstance. "I better be." A whistling flare burst out from the messenger's tome, the insignia of Those Who Slither In The Dark ringing bright above the treeline. He lazily threw a meteor at one of the flying demonic beasts on the tower outskirts, the monster stumbling slightly from the sheer power.

Starloon's thick glove rested on Byleth's shoulder, his warmth savored in these last few moments. "I'm close," he breathed out. Even though he was obviously trying to hide it, Byleth could hear the tiny wavering of emotion his voice held. "This might be the run."

Byleth nodded in understanding, before running off into the growing snowstorm. In a few minutes, the assault of meteor spells stopped, and Byleth knew that Starloon was truly lost to fate.

When the Eisners got back, they stored their plans for the tri-run they dreamed of, preparing instead to greet the second and only other person who remembered them throughout all of their timelines.


Author's Notes:

I will be posting "Hot Off The Press" (Non-Extensively-Personal-Beta-Read) chapters ahead of time on my Blogger found on my Bio. Feel free to shoot your own ideas there too!

Let me know if there are any requests for any slice of life scenes!