On the day of the siege of Garreg Mach, the 30th of the Guardian Moon, Ashton was met with familiar weather. While it was not a blizzard, sleet and snow fell from the sky regardless, and much of Garreg Mach and the surrounding mountains and countryside were decorated with a dusting of white. As the Imperial forces marched upon the academy, Ashton remembered the last battle - the pain he felt as the Sword of the Creator tore into his side, nearly splitting him in half, watching men and women fall beneath the unholy weapons of the Elites - memories of a time very few alive would remember.
Ashton was not without company, however; Seteth and Flayn were the only ones he could speak to, with the latter in particular going out of her way to make him feel welcomed.
To that end, it was only natural that Ashton gravitated toward them during the battle. Seteth was upon the battlements, watching the fires of the Imperial army draw closer. Most of the men were arming themselves in preparation for the battle ahead, though Seteth still wore his ceremonial, if mostly functional, robe, his spear right by his side, though Ashton didn't miss that he did not have his shield with him.
Ashton rubbed the stubble on his chin, letting out a sigh that fogged up the air in front of him. "Does this take you back? It certainly does to me."
Seteth leaned his head back and gave Ashton a sideways glance. "I cannot say I am eager to enter an all-out battle again. I participated in skirmishes, but this shall be the first major offensive I have been a part of for almost a thousand years."
"Is it strange that the same goes for me? Although, the battle of Gronder feels like less than a week ago to me," Ashton mused, placing his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest. "I like to think I have aged well enough."
"Being frozen ought to do that, I imagine," Seteth replied, crossing his arms. "I have not aged quite so gracefully. It may not seem so, but I can feel it in my bones."
Ashton patted Seteth's shoulder. "You still look good for your age, I will have you know. My old friends probably do not look as good as you do anymore."
"Of course not, they are-" Seteth began before closing his mouth quickly. "My apologies."
"Do not apologize. I am the one who made the joke. I thought it would be funnier," Ashton said, scratching his scalp. "I heard once that humor is our way of dealing with stressful situations, but every time I try to make a joke about my… situation, it never seems funny. It feels like an insult."
"While some jests can be in poor taste, you are correct. Perhaps you should wait a while before making them, however. Wounds heal with time, whether physical or mental," Seteth said, taking a step away from the battlements.
"You are probably right," Ashton concurred, nodding his head lazily. "I just wonder what scars will be left when this is over. I already have more than I can count."
"And I as well," Seteth replied quietly.
The duo stood in silence for a few moments, staring off at something far beyond their reach, before Ashton spoke again. His voice was a rough whisper.
"What happened to Arawn, Seteth?" Ashton asked. "I keep hearing talk of a 'Champion', and I know I am not that. There are very few people who could be that."
"It sounds as if you have worked it out yourself, but I suppose there is no staving it off," Seteth sighed, "I wanted to tell you before you left my office, but sadly I never got around to it. Either that, or I simply did not have the courage to tell you to your face."
"I know he is alive, and I know this is not the best time to be asking," Ashton said, moving forward and leaning against the battlements. "But I want to know. I need to know, before I go forward. You are right; I have worked it out myself, but I would hear it from you, from someone who was there for him when I was not."
"I… cannot speak for when he disappeared," Seteth said, "it was after my time. Flayn had been badly injured in battle, and had entered a state of hibernation. I could not battle once Hera left this world. I had to make sure she was alright. She only awoke recently, not unlike you. I have been hiding within the shadows of civilization for hundreds of years. From what I understand, he disappeared not long after Nemesis' defeat, upon the Tailtean Plains."
Ashton had been reading, so he knew that much. Still, it was disappointing to hear. At least he knew that Nemesis got his, in the end.
"Still, you are certain he is alive?" Ashton asked.
"I have told you before and I shall tell you again: yes, I am certain. I despise repeating myself, Ashton, but I shall make an exception for you, as a fellow worried father," Seteth replied. "What is it you plan on doing?"
"There are ways to fight against the Empire that do not involve going to battle against them," Ashton said, "I will speak to the professor once this battle is over. I intend to set out on my own to find Arawn, and failing that, release Rhea from her imprisonment."
Seteth stared at Ashton as if he had just pulled a rabbit out of his helmet.
"I had not realized your brain had failed to thaw," Seteth hissed.
"Think about it, I could sneak into the city undetected, retrieve her, and be gone long before the guard knows I am even there," Ashton said, holding his arms out. "I believe it is the best way to ensure victory."
"Victory against what? Your will to live?" Seteth asked pointedly, "Have you failed to consider that this could end with your death? She will no doubt be under constant surveillance, within the Imperial Palace dungeons. The chances of success are slim."
Ashton shrugged, his lips settling into a deep frown. "What else do I have to live for, Seteth? I know nobody here. Everyone I know except you, Flayn, Seiros, and Arawn are either dead or gone. This is the one thing I can think of that will have me not be a burden on this army you and Byleth have amassed. I am not a Champion, yet word is spreading of me being this mythological figure. It would be better for everyone involved if I simply went away, and helped out in different ways."
Seteth sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I will not stop you. Perhaps you are right. But I ask you - implore you - to reconsider."
"I have the entire battle ahead of us to reconsider," Ashton whispered, "perhaps I shall see the wisdom in your words then."
The Imperial Army wasted no time in establishing a presence in the immediate ruins outside of Garreg Mach. Signs of battle littered that old ground like a graveyard - a stray piece of rusted armor, the occasional human or animal bone, and the shards of what looked like small, circular stones. The blackened, familiar armor of the Imperial troops reflected all light that shined upon them.
Unlike the siege of Enbarr, thousands of years before, Ashton did not stand upon the battlements; Garreg Mach's walls were still incomplete and broken, and so it was decided that the main bulk of the defensive forces would be on the ground, taking the fight to the Imperial army. Ashton had no objections. Of course, a part of him wished he didn't have to fight anymore. He had seen enough combat in the last war.
Nonetheless, when the horns sounded, Ashton did not hesitate.
He charged forward, and he did not miss the way the troops beside him all seemed to form behind him, as if using him as the head of their assault, galvanizing them. If nothing else, he was glad for the reputation he had stumbled into, if only because it would help morale for the battle.
Ashton didn't need to be there for that boost in morale to take effect. So long as the troops knew that their 'Champion' was out there, they would fight harder. And the Empire would shake and shiver.
When Ashton crashed against the Imperial bulwark, his entire body trembled. Not because of fear, but because of the impact of him slamming into another human being. Ashton had felt it many times in the years preceding the battle of Gronder, and he would never get used to it.
And unfortunately for the poor soul he crashed into, Ashton knew what to do.
Ashton had been given a hammer, though it felt weighty and clumsy compared to the weapon he wielded during the War of Heroes. It was like swinging around a hunk of raw iron. It would, however, still do its job, as Ashton sent an Imperial soldier flying through the air into a stone wall, before falling to the ground in a heap of meat and metal.
Then, Ashton let loose.
It was like a dam had broken. His body moved without him telling it to, surging forward and destroying everything in his path without Ashton even needing to think of it. One Imperial soldier fell to the ruined street the battle was fought upon, only for Ashton to send him hammer through the poor fool's ribcage. Another swipe, and a soldier's head was knocked from his shoulders and sailed through the air.
Ashton did not even feel the heat of anger or the icy flow of fear through his veins. He felt nothing. And even in the blood-fueled haze of the battlefield, it unnerved him.
Just as he was about to finish off another Imperial soldier, another came upon his side, axe raised. While the blow was merely a glancing one and was repelled by his armor, the soldier was still upon him. Ashton blocked another blow with the Seiros Shield, feeling vitality flow through him as he could feel the shield thrum on his forearm. Before Ashton had a chance to strike back, however, an arrow planted itself in the back of the warrior's head. His eyes crossed before he fell to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Looking forward, Ashton saw a woman upon a horse with orange hair tied in a ponytail. Though their gazes met for only a moment, Ashton gave her a nod of approval.
Almost as soon as he was done, however, he was set upon by a wyvern rider. Even with the battle raging on in the sky, wyvern against pegasus, one saw fit to try and attack the one person at the front: Ashton. He could see the axe aimed for his neck, and did not hesitate in what he did next.
Throwing himself forward, Ashton narrowly missed having his head split from his neck as he grabbed onto the side of the wyvern, sending the beast off balance as it squawked awkwardly. Ashton grabbed the ride by his right arm, loosening said rider's grip on the reins as the wyvern moved upward just above the rooftops.
Ashton snarled as he lunged and punched the rider across his helmeted face, causing the wyvern to dip to the side as the rider's grip slackened, and a moment later they all crashed against the broken roof. Tiles and dust flew into the air as the sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing reached Ashton's ears as he let go, tumbling across the rooftop before coming to a stop just before he fell off the edge. His hammer was thrown from his grasp, and the rider he had hitched a ride on fell down below, with the body of his wyvern landing on top of him.
Laying atop the roof, Ashton wiped at his brow.
"That was reckless, you old fool," Ashton breathed out, "even for you."
Ashton picked himself up, shaking off pieces of tile and snow as he stood up and looked over the battlefield.
While the Imperial army had come in force, it was clear that the forces of Garreg Mach had the advantage; easily defensible positions, coupled with extensive use of traps, and many of the soldiers in the Imperial army were dead before they had even been within sight of the gates. The wyvern riders and pegasus knights were kept at bay by concentrated arrow fire and ballistae, becoming flying death traps as each one that fell landed within the bulk of the Imperial forces, killing the rider, the mount, and whoever was unlucky enough to be below them.
And then the battlefield was set aflame.
Ashton knew what plan Byleth had concocted. Despite all of their advantages, the Imperials still outnumbered the forces of Garreg Mach, and thus, something else was needed to level the playing field. And Byleth, being the inventive professor that he was, elected to use fire once the Imperial army had gone a certain distance.
The smell of cooked meat reached Ashton's nose, and he tried desperately not to vomit.
"Well, then, professor," Ashton whispered, looking down from the roof. "Let us hope this hell on earth you have created is effective."
Before Ashton began his descent, he saw the core of the Imperial army charge forward. An axe-wielding man at the center and front of the formation. He hurried down as fast as he could.
In the end, Ashton arrived too late to help with the rest of the battle. Most of the Imperial forces laid dead or had retreated by the time he had made it to the front, with the final vanguard he had seen from above being decimated from a combination of flames and attrition.
Through it all, Ashton saw Prince Dimitri standing over the man who had led the charge.
He wasn't a particularly notable individual. With cool brown hair and eyes of a similar shade, with a relatively handsome face, Ashton could not shake the feeling that the man looked familiar, even as he lay bloodied and bruised on the ground.
"You…" the man began, taking a deep, pained breath as he held his side, not even attempting to crawl away from Dimitri. "You're him! You're the feral monster that has been slaughtering our generals!"
"I'm surprised you're able to recognize me. I didn't know anyone who crossed me survived to tell about it," Dimitri said, staring down at the general from the bridge of his nose as he crossed his arms. "They were all beasts, just like me, and as with all beasts, they needed to be put down."
"You're an animal!" the man spat out. "They had families! I had to speak to the wives and husbands of several of them! Sometimes there wasn't even enough left of them to bury!"
"Such is the way of predators and prey," Dimitri scoffed as he knelt. "Look at me, and see yourself, Imperial general. I have killed, you have killed. How many fatherless and motherless children will there be because of you? Because of me? We are both monsters, predators within a territory, with nothing to sharpen our teeth on besides each other."
"Shut up!" The Imperial general shouted, covering his eyes. "If you have any mercy within you, kill me now! I will not stand for this!"
"You are on the floor like a dog; I would not even give you the courtesy to stand. You are beaten," Dimitri mumbled. "Does seeing my horrible visage offend you? Worry not, then. First, I shall remove your eyes-"
Byleth was there in an instant, and just as Ashton watched him come into view, the Imperial's throat was cut, and the poor general fell to the floor, limp.
"What was that, Dimitri?" Byleth asked. Though Ashton expected it, he heard no malice or anger in the professor's tone. Despite his unreadable expression, Byleth's voice dripped with disappointment.
Dimitri grunted, standing up and turning away. "You spoiled it."
"What honor is there in tormenting a defeated enemy?" Byleth pushed. "What was the point of that, Dimitri? Answer me."
"I do not need to explain myself to you, professor. This is who I have always been. This is what I have always lived for: vengeance. Vengeance against the Empire, vengeance for Duscur. You do not have the right to speak to me of it. Did you not pursue Jeralt's killer when she was found? Did you not nearly slide your blade into her chest and watch the life leave her eyes?" Dimitri said, his voice steadily rising.
Byleth was silent.
"Exactly, professor. You and I are the same as well," Dimitri finished.
"Is this how Faerghus treats its prisoners?" Ashton finally asked, walking up to the duo. There was no one else around, not even allied soldiers. "What kind of prince are you?"
When Dimitri's remaining eye fell upon Ashton, it was like a bolt of lightning surged between them.
"Who is this?" Dimitri asked Byleth, who also turned to Ashton.
"A friend I discovered deep below the earth. The men have taken to calling him-"
"I am not the Champion," Ashton interrupted, "And I do not need you to introduce me to this thing, professor. Not even Seiros was as cruel as that, when dealing with her enemies, and she lost more than you could ever fathom."
"So you were the one they dug up from the dirt," Dimitri snorted, crossing his arms. "I am not a prince. Not any longer. Faerghus is gone. And the dead will have their tribute, either way."
"The dead?" Ashton took a step back. "What in the name of the goddess does that mean?"
"Would you like me to explain it to you? I could speak of them all day, how they whisper their pleas for vengeance into my ears, or scream it at me during the small hours of the night," Dimitri said, letting out a small titter at the end.
"There is nothing there, nothing that should compel you to act in this way," Ashton said. "Those voices you hear are naught but you, whispering to yourself. But I haven't the patience to deal with your kind. One who would so horrifically torture another all to appease spirits only he can hear."
Ashton turned to Byleth.
"I wanted to wait until the battle was over before I brought this to your attention, professor, but the actions of this monster have forced my hand. I wish to go out on my own, and search for my son," Ashton declared.
"I assumed you were the Champion when I heard the men hiss about you during the night, but I see I was mistaken. You are a coward instead," Dimitri sneered, "Your son - he was born over a thousand years ago, if that part of your story is true. He is dead."
Byleth sighed. "Ignore him for the moment, Ashton. I thought you said you would help us fight the Empire. I will not force you to stay, but may I ask why you intend to leave so quickly?"
"Perhaps it's because of the homicidal maniac of a prince you have at the helm of your army?" Ashton replied, gesturing to Dimitri who grunted in return. "He does not even deny his own monstrous nature. I heard that Felix fellow call him a 'boar' once, and I am inclined to agree."
"We are all animals," Dimitri stated, "I have just embraced it."
"You are an animal because it is easier than facing the demons in your head," Ashton snarled, "Do not compare me to you."
"He does speak some truth," Byleth admitted, "what if you cannot find him? What will you do then?"
Ashton turned to the ruins of Garreg Mach's gate town. "Who said I needed to be in your army to fight the Empire? I do not believe I swore fealty to you. With only myself, I could disrupt supply lines as I travel, and if I cannot find Arawn, then I will head south to Enbarr, and release Rhea from her bonds."
"You are a fool, but perhaps I was wrong about you being a coward," Dimitri said, "Go, then. Charge into the fray. And know that I will be right behind you."
Dimitri hefted his relic glaive, and walked away, his fur cape moving with the cold wintry wind behind him.
Ashton ran a hand down his face and looked at Byleth once more. "How can you have such an unstable prince at the lead of your army?"
Byleth crossed his arms and shook his head. "He was not always like this, Ashton. He used to be an honorable and polite young man. Something changed within him some years ago, however, and I was not around to help him. None of us were."
"That's all well and good, professor, but if this is his true face, then it is only a matter of time before he drags you and all who follow you to hell with him," Ashton said. "And what was with that earlier? Were you trying to excuse his actions?"
Byleth's brow furrowed as he shook his head again. "I am not, nor will I ever, excuse his actions. But you must understand, as everyone understands, that we are in a delicate situation in this war. Dimitri is the only member of the royal family of Faerghus left. If he dies, then many of the soldiers will lose their rallying symbol, and what is left of Faerghus will crumble."
Ashton pursed his lips. "So, that is it, then? Have you considered finding another symbol to gather around?"
"Are you volunteering?" Byleth shot back.
"No. I cannot be a rallying symbol. I am no leader." Ashton looked down. "I can lead squads of knights into battle, should it come to it, but I am no general. I cannot lead armies. That is not my destiny. If 'Prince' Dimitri fails, professor, the burden of being a rallying symbol will likely fall to you. I do not know what you are, but you are connected to the Nabateans in some way, and perhaps that is all you need."
An awkward moment of silence passed between the two, as a cold, shrill wind whipped them by, kicking up small bits of snow and gently carrying them into the air. The bodies of Imperial and Church of Seiros soldiers both still littered the ground. No doubt they would need to be burned; war left little time for luxuries such as a burial.
"You may go, Ashton," Byleth finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I will not be the one to deny a reunion. I warn you, though, that going to Enbarr as you are will only lead to your death, and I doubt Rhea wants that."
Ashton's lips thinned as he held his arms out. "Look upon me, Byleth. I am a dead man walking, no different from the spirits that Dimitri claims to see. My time is over. My life is gone. Perhaps that is me being pessimistic, but that is all I can see. Even with Seteth and Flayn, I am reminded of what I have lost, of what my old friends lost."
Byleth looked down, his free hand clenching into a fist. "Then I hope you find whatever peace you can, Ashton."
"I will be gone within the week. You need not worry about me after that," Ashton said, "and hopefully, by then, rumors of me being this so-called 'Champion' fade as well. It was a fool's notion to assume I could assimilate into this army. I wish you luck, and if I find Arawn or Rhea, you will be the first person to know."
"If you do succeed," Byleth began, "send a letter. I will give a seal that will denote it as important, and it will be guaranteed to reach me."
Ashton nodded. "Very well."
"You were out of line, my friend," Seteth began, "I can understand your frustrations with Prince Dimitri, but he is still royalty, and wounds of the mind are not so easily healed, especially not with shouting."
Ashton was in Seteth's office again, rubbing the bridge of his nose as Seteth looked upon him like a schoolboy who was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.
"I understand that, Seteth," Ashton sighed, running his hand down his face before resting it on his chin. "I do. Perhaps it is the stress of all that has happened to me that has caused it, or perhaps I just wanted an excuse, any excuse, to shout at someone. You cannot deny that an army with such an unhinged ruler at its head will suffer for it, though."
Seteth stood up and walked around his desk. "I know. And the professor knows it as well. Which is why he is our tactician while Dimitri leads the troops. I understand why you would snap the way that you did, but it will not solve anything."
"With Dimitri leading the troops - goddess, Cichol, he will lead them to their deaths, Byleth's strategies be damned," Ashton breathed out, slumping in his chair. "I have heard stories of him. How he disappeared for nearly five years, and how Imperial generals went missing constantly during said time. He slaughtered them, did he not? But not for any advantage in the war or to help his fellows to the east; he did it simply because he felt like it. We never fought because we wanted to, did we? Did I?"
"You may not have, but battle calls us all the same, and some are more receptive to it than others," Seteth replied, placing his hands behind his back. "Seiros was one such person."
"That was vengeance," Ashton replied.
"Indeed, and what Dimitri does now is also vengeance, though he has long shedded the veneer of sanity that Seiros maintained," Seteth said, placing a hand on his desk.
Ashton shook his head. "Seiros was just… she was just in a bad way. I thought I was…"
"Your influence had a calming effect on her, that is true. I had not, nor have I since, seen her smile as brilliantly or walk with such a spring to her step than when you were with us. But you did not see what became of her when she lost you as well," Seteth murmured. "I am sorry to tell you this. I have been avoiding it and that is not fair to you."
Ashton rested his head in his hands, feeling as if the whole world was bearing down on his shoulders once more. After a few moments, he looked up.
"I do not blame you for not wanting to tell me this," Ashton whispered, "but, is that not all the more reason for me to look for her? To look for Arawn? To finally set this nightmare to bed? I have over a thousand years of lost time to make up for."
"I have come to terms with the fact that I cannot dissuade you from going this route," Seteth sighed, "but be careful, Ashton. I do not wish to lose a friend a second time."
"I will talk with Byleth," Ashton said, standing up. "And after that, I will be gone from this place. I wish you luck as well, Seteth. Considering Prince Dimitri's state of mind, you will need it."
Ashton clasped Byleth's extended hand and gave it a shake, closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath.
"I hope that you are not making a mistake," Byleth said, his face as emotionless as ever. "I will wait to hear from you, whether it be your success or failure."
"You will not be hearing it from me should I fail," Ashton replied, "I imagine you will either find me nailed to the gates of Enbarr or buried in some shallow grave far from the city, when you assault it."
"Let us hope it does not come to that then, hmm?" Byleth hummed, sitting back down and shuffling the papers on his desk. "I wish you luck, Ashton."
"You too, Byleth," Ashton said, nodding. "And, keep an eye on Dimitri, will you?"
Byleth let out a sigh. "Oh, yes, how could I forget?"
Letting out a humorless chuckle, Ashton left Byleth's office. He had heard it had once been Seiros' office - or rather, Rhea's office - until Byleth took up residence within.
Of course, just because Ashton had promised to leave did not mean he would do so at that very moment. There were still preparations to be made - food and supplies, mostly, and weapons. Things he would need to survive the long journey alone. He hoped it would give him time to think, to finally come to terms with what had happened. He doubted he would ever truly be over it, but perhaps he could make peace with it.
As soon as Ashton exited Byleth's office, however, the plan became far more complicated.
"So, you're leaving, huh?"
Ashton whipped his head to the side to see the same archer that had assisted him during the siege of Garreg Mach. Her orange hair tied into a ponytail that went down her shoulder, and tanned skin, she stuck a bit compared to others within Garreg Mach. She leaned against the side of the door.
"I am. Who are you?" Ashton asked succinctly.
"I'm Leonie. I saw you back in the battle, tearing everything apart, and apparently you'll be leaving soon. Looking for something, right?" Leonie said, "I've heard about you. They say you're the Champion."
Ashton's eyes narrowed as he shook his head. "I am no Champion."
"Huh. That humility or are you really not?" Leonie said.
"I have skill when it comes to combat, but I am not this Champion everyone speaks of," Ashton murmured, turning away. "With luck, I will bring him to us."
"Wait," Leonie said, placing a hand on Ashton's shoulder. "You're looking for him, then? How about I come with you?"
Ashton raised a brow as he turned his head. "What?"
"How much time do you have?" Leonie lightly chuckled, "because there's this bow I've heard about that I have been looking to get my hands on for a while…"
I will not lie, Three Hopes releasing and all the info that has come about has dampened my spirits slightly, though not too much. I am all the more willing to let Rhea have a happy ending here at least, lol.
Anyway, a bit of a better chapter compared to the last one, though not by much. Hopefully when Rhea re-enters the story, I'll have a bit more fun? Who knows.
Anyway, here's a link to our Discord server: discord .gg/9XG3U7a
With my Elden Ring fic coming to a close soon, maybe I'll get back to weekly updates. But until then, see you all in two weeks!