Chapter 23

Day 31 of the Lone Moon, Imperial Year 1185

Dimitri had grown accustomed to everyone wearing a pained, nervous expression whenever addressing him, but Ingrid's joy was so great that not even Dimitri could dampen it as she sprinted to where he and Dedue waited on the bank of a small tributary. Dimitri's other close followers were quick to gather around as well, eager to hear the news.

Previously, scouts from Dimitri's army had spotted the Resistance Army leaving Garreg Mach on a path to the east. Rodrigue and Gustave correctly surmised that they planned an attack on one of the imperial garrisons on the Airmid, most likely the Great Bridge of Myrddin. Hoping to take advantage of their advance, Dimitri's forces followed behind. They anticipated catching up with the Resistance Army before the battle, but Byleth's forces moved at an astonishing pace, encountering no opposition to slow them down. The Kingdom militia finally caught up after an engagement at Myrddin had already begun. Ingrid had reconnoitered the scene on her pegasus.

"Our timing was perfect. It looked like the battle had just ended," Ingrid told the gathering.

"And?" Dimitri asked impatiently.

"The Resistance Army prevailed! They're securing the bridge now."

The news of Byleth's victory earned a round of cheers, tempered only by the silence of Dimitri and Dedue. Gustave told the prince, "We do not know Byleth's next move, so we should waste no time broaching an alliance with her before she leaves."

Dimitri looked away and muttered, "If she sees what's become of me, she'll never agree to it."

The smiles of those gathered quickly faded. The thrill of Byleth's success was smothered when they were reminded of their own pitiful state.

Felix noted, "The Boar has a point. You'd better make sure she agrees to help before she sees this wreck that barely qualifies as an army."

Ingrid proposed, "Even if His Highness wishes to stay back, the rest of us should meet her. She would surely be as excited to see us as we are to see her."

"True words, Ingrid," Sylvain concurred. "It would be against my principles to come this close and not pay her a visit. She's probably been worried sick about me."

"Yes, we simply must see her," Mercedes said before Ingrid or Felix could launch their regular disparagement of Sylvain's character.

Rodrigue tapped his foot as he thought. Everyone keenly awaited his opinion. Finally, he muttered, "Perhaps it's better that you not."

His stance was not popular.

"But if we're there to make our case, I believe she'll be more likely to agree to help," Mercedes appealed.

Rodrigue shook his head. "Which is precisely why you shouldn't go. It will become an emotional appeal instead of a strategic one."

"So what?" Felix dismissed. "I don't like the sound of begging, but if that's what it will take, then so be it. The alliance will be an advantage for everyone."

"Not necessarily. Their army may be too depleted to continue for now, and the addition of our forces might interfere with their overall war strategy if, say for example, they consider stealth or cohesive leadership to be priorities. His Highness represents the only hope for Faerghus, but losing Byleth or the monastery again would likely spell the end for the Church of Seiros. We can't allow that to happen, so if they believe combining forces will be detrimental, then we need to respect that."

Gustave recommended, "If the Resistance Army needs time to recover, then we should consider joining them rather than continuing into the Empire. Doing so would also provide us ample time to consolidate strategies prior to combat."

Dimitri's grip on his lance tightened. "The dead have waited long enough. If the professor would rather return to the monastery to shed tears over the thought of fighting Edelgard, she'll be doing it without us."

"But, Your Highne-."

"That's final."

Gustave sighed. "… Very well then. However, even if the former Blue Lions do not meet with Byleth, someone must speak with the Resistance Army."

"Sounds like you're the person for the job, Gilbert, if the goal is to be as dispassionate as possible," Sylvain recommended.

"You may be right," Gustave admitted. "Is that acceptable to you, Your Highness?"

"Do as you please."

Gustave soon departed. Those remaining fell silent as they waited for word, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Dimitri was unsure how much time passed in the interim. The sky grew dark, but storm clouds had rolled into the area, making it difficult to gauge the position of the sun.

Everyone perked up upon Gustave's return, but it was quickly obvious that he did not bear glad news.

He explained, "The Resistance Army will allow us passage across the Airmid. However, they believe that their main forces must return to the monastery to recuperate before launching an invasion of their own. I told them that we would likely continue on, but should you have a change of hear-."

Dimitri told them all, "We will accept their offer to cross immediately. There's all there is to say."

Gustave was disappointed but not surprised. "So it is. We will follow your command, Your Highness."

Rodrigue spoke with a bit more warmth as he ordered, "Everyone, ensure we have everything gathered so we can be quickly on our way. The Empire awaits us."

Gustave, Rodrigue, and the rest of the Blue Lions returned to camp, leaving Dimitri alone with Dedue. Dimitri overheard criticism from Felix and Sylvain as they departed, but he ignored it.

With their newfound privacy, Dedue said, "Your Highness… I will obey any command you provide. They are correct, though, that we are in need of allies. Your victory is of paramount importance, and I worry that it will not be achieved on our current course."

"And what are allies? Do you think the church cares about clearing the regrets of Duscur's dead? No. They have their own agenda, and they'll cast us aside once our usefulness has expired. Even the others in this army... they're only here out of a sense of duty to a dead kingdom… a kingdom that couldn't even provide stability or nourishment to its own people."

"They do not fight for the Kingdom alone. They fight for you. For the person they believe you were, and can be again."

"Then they're even greater fools than I thought," Dimitri snorted. Dedue knew him well enough to understand that Dimitri had been this monster all along.

"Whatever the truth, they have no hidden agenda. They will fight for you to their last breath… just as I will."

"… I know, Dedue. That's what worries me."

Dimitri ground his teeth, having immediately regretted saying anything. Paying any care to the dolts that followed him would not help defeat that woman. Dimitri was just a weapon in service of the dead, and anyone who knelt before him had chosen the same fate. He had made that clear time and time again.

He told his retainer, "Listen to Rodrigue and gather your belongings. The emperor is just within our reach."

On Foreign Shores - Day 5 of the Ethereal Moon, Imperial Year 1186

Dimitri lay alone in the small room that he, Amin, and the Almyran princes shared on the Tariq. The space was nearly devoid of light, but the dead still made themselves heard on that occasion.

Ingrid condemned, "So, you've finally realized that they're our allies… is that right, Your Highness? Why didn't you understand this at Myrddin? None of us had to die, but you didn't listen to us. You never listened to us."

"I'm sorry… but I had a charge… a path that I could not deter from."

"And how did that turn out, Dimitri? Where is your sister's head? Or was it your lover's?" Sylvain pressed.

Rodrigue joined, "At least Glenn died honorably. What did we die for?"

Dimitri covered his face with his shaking hands. "You're… not real. None of you are. You're a relic of a fractured mind."

"Look, he still won't listen," Ingrid mocked. "We died for you, and you won't even look at us."

"Because you are not Ingrid," Dimitri fired back.

"If I'm not, then I'm a reflectance of what you know I'd say."

Glenn added, "And besides…. you are not Dimitri. Just a beast that inhabits his husk. How dare you speak to Ingrid like that."

"Why are arguing, Your Highness?" Dedue asked. "I suppose you want us to leave. You want to forget us. To forget your promises."

That criticism shook Dimitri to his core. "I… I could never…"

The door slowly opened just then, squeaking on its hinges every inch of the way.

"Are you alright, Dimitri?" Khalid asked as he stood in the doorway.

Khalid probably knew the answer. The dead had visited Dimitri less frequently during his time in Almyra, but spending a moon at sea cooped up in a small room had overstimulated his imagination. The frigid coasts of Sreng were now far behind them, but Dimitri still spent much of his time inside instead of enjoying the temperate weather on the deck. Khalid and Farjad always did their best to drag him back to the present whenever they found him in such a state.

"… Of course, I'm fine," Dimitri muttered. He then remembered his promise for honesty. "I was somewhat preoccupied, but it's no matter. Have we received an answer?"

They had spent over a day anchored in the shallow waters delineating the Brigid archipelago as messages were ferried between key parties. This latest communication was expected to finalize the plan.

Khalid nodded. "They don't want everyone coming ashore yet, but they've authorized us to land a skiff with our leaders. You and Amin will serve as our attendants. We're to first meet with Petra and Caspar so they can confirm our identities and intentions. If they're satisfied, the rest will be allowed to land. They should be able to house the crews nearby temporarily."

Dimitri had a difficult time adapting to blinding light outside, forcing Khalid to help guide him onto the skiff. They were accompanied by James, Amin, Senusret, and a team of rowers. His vision finally began to adjust as the boat was lowered into the water.

At first, nothing could be identified on the shore other than an extensive forest. This forest followed the folds of rising ridges until they reached the green, jagged peaks of long-dormant volcanoes. Dimitri finally spotted wood structures hiding in the trees as they neared land. Small crafts freely dotted the beach, but there was also a short dock that was open for use. The skiff was guided there, where two sentries awaited them. Dimitri knew what to expect from Brigid attire- light layers, leathers, beads, tassels and the like- even so, it was extraordinary to see in person.

The Brigid soldiers helped secure the boat and assist its passengers ashore. The rowers remained behind.

"Greetings to Brigid. Please… follow us," one of the sentries said slowly, doing her best to not jumble the words.

Due to the apparent language barrier, the landing party obeyed without asking any of their many questions. The hosts were also silent as they led Khalid's group across the village, which was cobbled together without much interest in urban planning. Most buildings were very similar, having square, squat profiles with gable roofs that nearly touched the ground. Both the walls and the thatched roof seemed to be constructed with various reeds or thin barks.

The houses were small and unremarkable, but Dimitri got the impression that they were not used for much more than sleeping. Older residents sat on their porches observing the guests, while children were busy playing outdoor games. The weather in Brigid was so welcoming that spending much time inside would be a waste.

There were two structures that were different from the rest. One was a larger building that, while built out of the same materials as the houses, was designed in Fódlan's style. It was likely used by Adrestian officials. Now, it was serving as a marketplace of sorts.

The other unique building was their destination. It bore similarities to the houses with its porch and low roof, but it was much longer and made of more familiar wooden boards.

The two escorts stood on either side of the door, which looked like a recent addition. The same woman who had spoken earlier told them in a rehearsed voice, "The princess and her betrothed are inside. They agreed to privacy. You have left your weapons on your ship, yes? Then you may proceed."

Before doing so, Khalid faced his companions and requested, "Would any of you mind if Dimitri and I have a few minutes alone with them first? It's been years since we last met, so it would be nice to catch up before we dive into negotiations."

James and Senusret glanced at each other and nodded. The sentries seemed to understand enough of the conversation to not be surprised when Dimitri and Khalid entered alone.

The interior of the building consisted of a single, extended room with a sloped ceiling held up by three columns aligned on the central axis. The entirety of the room was built out of various shades of wood, highlighted by thin, open windows.

Trees were difficult to find in large quantities throughout much of Almyra, so the wooden structure they stood inside was a major change of setting compared to the Dunya. Brigid's craftsmanship of wood was a worthy rival to Almyran stonework, with walls covered in carvings and patterns that he never knew existed. Dimitri was particularly fascinated by the depiction of human faces in the architecture. Humans appeared in art and statues in Fódlan, but Dimitri had never seen figures that quite resembled the wooden faces that now greeted him. Depictions of humans in Almyran art was almost unheard of, and excluding a few ancient statues tolerated for their historical value, it was apparently banned outright in Meteora for being a potential avenue of idolatry.

Khalid was equally curious about their surroundings, and the two worked in tandem to help the other overcome the distractions and cross the room. There at the end, Petra and Caspar sat on a bench that looked out of place with the rest of the building. Two identical benches sat opposite of them that Dimitri and Khalid were free to use.

Petra wore her hair differently, and her clothes matched the style worn by the soldiers from the dock. Otherwise, though, she looked quite similar to how Dimitri remembered.

Caspar had changed more. Not only was his haircut new, but he had also put on quite a bit of height and muscle. He was still no match for Dimitri, but at least he was liberated from jokes about his diminutive size. Caspar had not fully committed to Brigid's attire, but his outfit was probably close enough to avoid unflattering comparisons to the former Adrestian occupants.

"Prince Khalid ibn Faruq Al Hafeez of Almyra," Khalid greeted with a bow. "Though I've heard that I'm better known as Claude von Riegan in these parts."

Petra returned a bow and a greeting, while Caspar took his hand with a wide grin. He said, "Well, what do you know? It's really him! We were taking bets on whether you might be an imposter. How the heck could you survive Gronder and slip out of Fódlan undetected?"

Khalid smiled in return but told him, "It's a long story, so let's save that for later. I'll get to the point- no one needs to know that we're alive. I ask that you keep our identities a secret to anyone who might be interested. Especially Dimitri. As far as you know, he's an appraiser's son from Faerghus without royal lineage."

Caspar's face squinted in confusion. "Dimitri? Like Prince Dimitri? Why are we talking ab-."

He halted upon realizing that the familiarity of the face hiding underneath the retainer's long hair and eyepatch was not a coincidence. "Wait… okay. That's pretty wild."

Dimitri bowed and said, "It's true. I am just Dimitri, a servant of Prince Khalid."

"You are… not a spirit, correct?" Petra asked as she pointed. Dimitri got the impression that she would have readied a weapon if she had one.

Khalid shrugged and answered, "If he is, he's done a pretty good job of convincing me otherwise. It shouldn't be that much of a surprise if Teach claimed to have seen him, right? Did she share the tale of that visit with you?"

Caspar defended, "Well yeah, but everyone thought she was probably just imagining things."

Petra proposed excitedly, "We were thinking that when the goddess of Fódlan gifted our professor with her powers, that she gained the ability to see spirits!"

Khalid's eyebrows rose. "Were there any other ghosts that she reported seeing? That would make this theory pretty tantalizing."

"Umm… no. Only Dimitri." Petra cusped a hand over her face in shame. "… It was perhaps a poor theory."

At that time, the four finally took seats across from each other. Khalid asked, "How are the rest of the Black Eagles faring?"

Caspar explained, "Well, Linhardt and Bernadetta abdicated their titles and ran off to the monastery together. I'm not really sure what they're doing there, but if the answer is nothing, then they're probably both pretty satisfied. Ferdinand and Dorothea are now married. Ferdinand's father was killed in a riot during the war, so they are the new Duke and Duchess Aegir."

"Ferdinand and Dorothea?" Khalid muttered in disbelief. "I didn't talk with her all that often, but even from those brief conversations, I didn't get the impression that she even liked Ferdinand… let alone would consider marrying him."

"Time and war bring change to people. Caspar and I also had challenges that were overcome," Petra said.

"True enough," Khalid accepted. He then decided regretfully, "I'd love to talk more, but there are people waiting on us. If you're ready for them to come in, then we are, too."

Petra agreed, "Yes, I would like for us to be moving diplomacies along."

Dimitri returned to the porch and ushered James and Senusret inside. After introductions, Senusret said something to Petra in an unfamiliar language. The two shared a laugh when Petra provided a response in the same tongue.

"I thought I would need to be translating for my grandfather, who knows little of your language, but it seems you could be doing this, too," Petra observed afterwards.

Senusret shook his head with a thin smile. "My grasp of your language isn't good enough for that. It's too important that we get the details right. I'll recognize enough to know if you're completely trying to mislead us, though."

"I will not be disappointing. My translation will be true."

Recognizing that his companions were confused by this interaction, Senusret explained, "Brigid's language is similar to that spoken in parts of eastern Dagda. I have working knowledge of it from years past."

Once everyone settled, Petra placed her hands on her lap and sat up straight to convey a more formal posture. She began, "We have received the letters of your visit. You are wanting Brigid to assist in your war. In exchange, you will provide us with defense and treasure. Is that correct?"

Khalid rectified, "Essentially, though I would amend some of the phrasing. Instead of 'Brigid', I would specify 'Brigid's fleet.' We don't expect you to devote ground troops. I would also exchange 'war' with 'battle.' We're just asking for a single boost, as well as noncombatant roles."

"That's a relief. I liked the idea of helping, but people were kind of laughing off the idea of committing a whole army to Almyra," Caspar shared.

Petra's eyes widened. "Caspar! You should not be revealing that."

Her betrothed cringed at the rapidity of his blunder. "Right, sorry. I'll stay quiet. You'll forget that I'm even here."

"I am doubting that is possible. Perhaps it was more likely when you were very small."

"Hey! I was still almost as tall as y-." Caspar stopped himself before he went too far. "Actually, arguing is making it worse, isn't it? … Fine, I'll let it slide. Just because it's you."

Petra smiled warmly. "You are learning more and more every day, Caspar."

Only then did Petra and Caspar realize that they had ignored their guests a little too long. James and Amin looked lost, Senusret was amused, and the former house leaders were embarrassed. Those present who never attended the Officer's Academy were likely assembling the image that the school was characterized by buffoonery. On an ordinary day free of battle, that impression was probably not too far from the truth.

"Right… Umm… Business," Petra corrected.

Her list of questions for them ended up being quite short, as most of the details of interest had already been handled through messengers. She eventually smiled and said, "I have heard enough to be satisfied. I will be taking you to my grandfather, King Rudraige of Brigid. He will decide about the fighting, but your friends may come ashore. As promised, there are homes for them to take for the night. We will be providing them food as well."

"Your generosity is appreciated," Prince James thanked as they all stood. "Even if the alliance should fall through, Almyra will remember your generosity."

"Fall… through? What is it falling through?" Petra inquired. Everyone prepared to explain, but Senusret quickly provided an answer in her native tongue. It seemed to resolve Petra's confusion, and they proceeded to the door.

Petra provided orders to guards outside, prompting them to return to the dock. She waved the rest of her companions to follow her.

"We will be walking to the capital now. It is nearby."

The Almyran fleet was anchored in the bay adjacent to the capital, as the image of foreign war ships within firing distance of the palace would have been received poorly. Thankfully, the road there was well maintained. Adrestian occupants almost certainly widened and paved it to guarantee quick movement of troops and supplies if they needed to counter a Dagdan invasion.

"What's the name of the capital again?" Khalid asked as they began their hike.

"Uchtach," Petra annunciated. Sensing that no one understood her, she repeated, "Uchtach. It is a simple word for our language. The town you have just come from is called Cala Na Eachtrannach."

Dimitri quickly grasped why he had never seen Brigid's language covered in any academic program- no one could pronounce any of it. He eyed Caspar, who expressed relief to find companions who now understood his daily struggle.

While Petra and the Almyran princes conversed, Caspar took quite an interest in asking Dimitri questions along their journey. Most of initial inquiries regarded the situation in Almyra. It only took a minute for Caspar to conclude that Mirza Ghalib was the vilest person alive. Once he grew bored of Almyra, though, Caspar began to discuss Fódlan. Dimitri feared it was only a matter of time before the truth of his heritage was exposed, but Caspar surprisingly managed to avoid saying too much.

"You should know, Dimitri, I wasn't around when Gilbert offered to form an alliance. If it was up to me, we would have been right there with you at Gronder. It still makes me mad that we weren't able to save your friends," Caspar lamented.

Dimitri shook his head. "We'll never know how that scenario would have ended. Perhaps you would have died instead. I am glad you did not. Fretting over how things might have been different… it's a heavy burden, one that should never be laid on someone blameless for the outcome. You are not responsible for what happened, Caspar."

"I guess not," Caspar conceded reluctantly.

Seeing that Caspar was ill-suited to ponder the dead, Dimitri asked, "I haven't heard anything about Annette. I hope she survived the war?"

"Oh, yeah, of course! I haven't heard too much from her. I think she's back in Fhirdiad, assisting the professor's new administration. Though I've also heard that she's a teacher at some school there? I'm a little confused on that." After a delay, he added with a playful grin, "Heh. I didn't realize she was the first person on your mind, Dimitri."

Dimitri found Caspar's observation odd. Annette was the only other survivor from the Blue Lions, so it seemed natural that he would ask solely about her. There was not much time to discuss the insinuation, though, before they entered the capital.

Unlike the village they had just left, Uchtach was completely cleared of forest and composed of houses lined in neat rows. There were some Adrestian and Dagdan constructions, but they managed to blend into the rest of the city.

The city had not disconnected from nature, however. The houses were larger and sturdier, but they were still built in a style unique to Brigid. Most homes were paired with gardens of delightful tropical flowers, and the use of animal hides in decorations confirmed that many occupants remained hunters.

Before approaching the palace, the landing party was given a clear view of the harbor. Senusret, James, and Amin all halted upon seeing the vessels within the bay.

"Are those fishing boats?" James asked uncertainly.

"Which ones?" Petra asked as she followed his gaze. "The small ones, yes. The larger ones there are our warships."

Amin grunted, "What large ones? All I see are small and smaller."

While perhaps impolite, Amin had a point. The "warships" had impressive sails and prominent bowsprits, but their frames were narrow and low to the water. Instead of cannons, the ships were rigged with oars for additional propulsion. They were unique, but... hardly intimidating.

"Forgive us, but could we step aside for just a moment?" James requested of Petra and Caspar.

Petra nodded. "It is no issue. We will be waiting."

After James motioned the Almyran delegation away to a safe speaking distance, he asked, "Are those the ships you were expecting, Khalid?"

"Of course."

"And… do you think those are what our generals were expecting when they agreed to this plan?" James continued somewhat testily.

Khalid dismissed, "It's not my place to speculate on the scope of their imagination."

James moved a step closer. "This isn't a joke, Khalid. These things will be ripped apart by Meteoran cannons. Brigid apparently doesn't even have cannons. I don't mean to be rude to our hosts, because it's not their fault. But I'm not sure why you brought us all out here to die. If your only logic for coming here was to say hello to some friends, you should have said so from the start."

"Did you consider that I might have a plan before plunging headfirst into a pool of despair?" Khalid questioned.

"What's there to say? These things aren't up to the task. Am I wrong, Protector Senusret?"

"They are rather small," Senusret acknowledged.

Khalid noted, "Given your experience with Brigid, I imagined you knew what to expect."

Senusret shrugged. "That was over ten years ago. I assumed their fleet must have been overhauled by the Empire if you recommended using them."

"If you had any doubts, why didn't you say anything sooner?" James questioned as he redirected some of his frustration towards Senusret.

Senusret rationalized, "Because broaching even the most innocuous concern would have wrecked the plan… a plan I happened to like. Even now, I believe we can build a strategy around what we have available."

"You can make a plan around anything, but I've never seen a winning one that relied on archaic technology and good feelings," Amin retorted.

Senusret's eyes flared in his direction. "Were you named Grand Agha of Elam without my hearing, boy? Or should I take that a servant and virgin of war presumes to know more of naval combat than the Protector of Shomal?"

His change of voice came as a shock. Senusret had grown relatively casual with the people present, which had caused Dimitri to forget that the man was very capable of severity.

Amin immediately cowered. "… Of course not, Protector Senusret. Forgive my impudence."

"Good. I'm glad there's no misunderstanding." Senusret then turned to the other skeptic. "Prince James?"

James had covered his face, but he parted his fingers to expose an eye. "… Okay. Convince me. What advantages do these ships offer us?"

Khalid explained, "They're small, but that also makes them harder to hit. Brigid's ships are built for incredible speed, and their ability to navigate by either sail or oar opens up maneuvers that simply won't be possible for our opponent. We'll be running circles around them."

Senusret expounded, "It's a matter of positioning. We will initiate the battle, which means we'll select the wind conditions. As Prince Khalid suggested, the enemy may be physically unable to reposition as needed for any surprise we throw them. If we botch the plan and put these ships in the line of fire, then yes… they'll be torn apart. But that failure would be due to our leadership, not Brigid's engineering. It's our duty to put together an order of battle that accounts for the limitations of both fleets, and I am confident we will."

James rubbed his temple and sighed. "Alright. But if this battle goes awry, there's not much I can say to protect either of you from the welcome you'll receive back home… if we survive that long, that is."

Khalid and Senusret did not protest, so James turned to Brigid's future monarchs and said, "Pardon the delay. We can continue now."

Petra and Caspar were undoubtedly curious about the conversation, but they respected its privacy and ushered the Almyrans onward.

In Fhirdiad, the castle was situated above the humble masses. The Dunya was away from the populace altogether. In Brigid, though, the royal household lived right in the heart of Uchtach. There was something endearing about the modesty that such a decision projected.

The palace design was equally unassuming. It consisted of a set of five buildings of various sizes that were all of similar appearance to the building where they had rendezvoused with Petra and Caspar. Other than somewhat richer trimmings, the main difference was that the covered porches on these buildings wrapped entirely around the buildings instead of just over the front façade. Most lords of Fódlan would have balked at such a living arrangement.

Petra stopped in front of one such building.

"My grandfather will be inside, and we will speak with him," she explained. "Caspar. There will already be enough of us, and we will be safe inside. Would you show Dimitri and Amin around? When we are done, we can meet on the beach, maybe?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure. I've already run my mouth too much today," Caspar said.

Amin turned to his lord somewhat anxiously. "Prince James, I'm not sure it's wise for m-."

James raised a hand and assured him, "I'll be fine, Amin. But thank you."

Dimitri was confident that Khalid would feel the same, but he glanced at the prince just to be sure. As expected, Khalid had no objection to the separation.

"Alright! If that's settled, let's take a tour!" Caspar waved for the Almyran retainers to follow him as the others proceeded inside.

Caspar's "tour" was not abundantly helpful. He did not show them much that was new, and he was not particularly knowledgeable on what he was talking about. Caspar offered enthusiasm in the place of experience, which did at least provide some entertainment.

Eventually, Dimitri began to spot familiar faces roaming the streets, usually attended by friendly Brigid soldiers.

Dimitri admitted, "I didn't realize the Almyran crews were being kept inside the city."

"They aren't," Caspar clarified. "Everyone will be staying at a nearby estate for visiting dignitaries. We've had to set up a lot of tents to accommodate everyone. I assume they're all being brought here for the feast, though."

"The feast is for the whole army? I hope you're aware of how much food that will take," Dimitri warned in awe.

"Of course! Don't worry, we have a count. And besides, this feast will be for the entire city, not just you. That's how we do it for big occasions like this. Assuming things go well, we should announce the alliance there, too."

"You would put on such an event for us… alliance or no?" Amin asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, Brigid always gives a warm welcome. Is it different in Almyra?"

Amin did not meet his eye contact. "We would be polite, assuming our guests came in goodwill. But something like this? Not likely."

"Hey, Fódlan wasn't so welcoming, either," Caspar confessed. "This place is a bit of an anomaly. Brigid doesn't have the strength to defend against a full-scale invasion, so they've probably decided their only choice is to be liked enough to avoid a fight in the first place. Can't really say that it's worked out that well historically, to be honest."

"Even so… I find it an admirable example," Dimitri concluded.

"If you say so," Amin reacted with a shrug. He then claimed, "But when your neighbors include the likes of Fódlan and Sreng, projecting strength is the only choice. There's no negotiating with the likes of them."

Caspar laughed off the indirect insult. "If projecting strength is your thing, I know just the place to show you! It happens to be a favorite of mine, too."

Caspar led his guests to a square near the palace. A crowd was gathered around it, cheering as various pairs of fighters faced off on the grass. It was now twilight, but the area was well lit by the glow of several bonfires.

The fighting was fairly tame, consisting mostly of grappling, but the participants were invested in the outcome. The proceedings were minimally organized- it appeared to be primarily a training exercise for Brigid's soldiers, but anyone able to find a partner was free to step onto the field at any time. More than a few Almyrans had already found their way to the square and were delighted to watch the duels.

Dimitri had been surprised at Caspar's lack of visible indignation about Amin's criticism of Fódlan, but it now became clear that he simply planned to defend his honor in combat. Caspar's newfound patience was noteworthy, at least.

"So, how about it, Amin? Want me to find you a partner?" Caspar asked.

"I… didn't exactly ask for this," Amin muttered. "I'm not familiar with Brigid's techniques."

"Yeah, I get it. How about me, then? I'm from Fódlan, and we're just cowards, right?"

A nearby group of Almyran spectators turned around to face Caspar. One of them asked with disgust, "Fódlan? I thought your people were supposed to be gone from here."

"We are… except for me, that is. I'm engaged to the princess of Brigid. There's no stigma against royalty competing in these matches."

Caspar's explanation did not clear the air. Another onlooker probed, "I'm confused. Brigid fought for their independence from Fódlan, but now they're marrying each other?"

"Yeah, Brigid helped defeat the Adrestian Empire." Caspar scratched his hair as he tried untangling the mess he had gotten into. "… Which is where I'm from, so now I've confused you even more. The point is, Brigid is friendly with the new government of Fódlan, not the old one. Brigid has independence, or at least it officially will soon, but that doesn't mean relations are severed."

"It's that simple? There's no animosity after all those years of occupation?" a woman asked.

Caspar frowned. "Well, no. It's never that simple… especially in my case. But that's no excuse to not try." He then dropped the subject and smiled again. "So, how about it? I don't think my friend here wants to fight me, so would any of you like to take his place?"

One of them stepped forward with a hungry grin. "Absolutely. This is the chance of a lifetime."

Dimitri did his best to hide his anxiety as he watched the two men take the field. Caspar's opponent was enormous, and if he got the upper hand on someone from Fódlan, there was likely no intention to show mercy.

Unfortunately, that was exactly what happened. Caspar blocked several blows, but he was soon twisted around and slammed against the grass with a heavy thud. Others dueling nearby paused to gasp and assess how much the landing must have hurt. The victor laughed as he walked away without offering to help the vanquished off the ground.

To his credit, Caspar weathered the hit surprisingly well. He only stayed down long enough to regain his breath.

"Okay, okay… should have seen that coming," Caspar groaned as he stood. He stumbled back in Dimitri's direction. "Anyone else want a turn? Don't expect that same trick to work twice."

"You might want to specify someone closer to your size," Dimitri cautioned.

"Thanks for the advice, Linhardt. But you're right that I need be smarter. I've spent several moons fighting the same people over and over, so I've gotten complacent. This is really great stuff!"

Amin shrugged and decided, "Well, if you find getting pummeled that enjoyable, I suppose I should oblige this time."

Dimitri's sense of dread returned as the opponents took their stances. Amin was not as fierce as the previous fighter, but Caspar was clearly dealing with a hurt back.

Caspar's fight started poorly as he nearly tumbled from several of Amin's strikes. Just as Amin prepared for the final throw, though, Caspar managed to sweep the Almyran's leg, sending the man sprawling to the ground with a grunt. Caspar tried to recover, but he was unable to find his balance before collapsing as well after several hobbles.

Amin was quick to jump back up, his eyes darting about in hopes that no one was watching. Unfortunately, quite a few of spectators from Brigid were already cheering at the result. Those from Almyra were humbly silent.

Though mortified, Amin had enough respect to offer Caspar a hand, who was having difficulty even sitting up due to his back. Caspar accepted his aid with a grin.

"I'll give you the advantage on that one," Amin granted. He then added, "Sorry if I underestimated you. You have resolve."

"What did you expect? Is Dimitri a coward?" Caspar asked while Amin helped him off the field.

"No, but he's so strong that he has little reason to fear. You, though…"

"Since I'm a gracious winner, I'm going to ignore that." As Caspar rubbed his back, he told everyone, "I'll be ready for my next victim here soon. I just… umm… need a couple of minutes."

The others did not mock his well-earned request for respite. Instead, one of them asked, "The others from Brigid… are they worthy fighters?"

Caspar managed a smile. "You bet. I had to get accustomed to their fighting style at first, but once I got past that, I found that their spirit was not so different from my own. You'll probably discover that, too. Almyra, Fódlan, Brigid… it's all the same. A warrior is a warrior."

This answer was accepted, and the group turned to watch the other fights. A few were even curious to duel the Brigid warriors firsthand. Caspar knew just enough of Brigid's language to convey that interest to some of the nearby locales. Soon enough, warriors of both lands were engaged in friendly competition.

Sensing an opportunity, Dimitri put a hand on his former classmate's shoulder. "If you don't mind, Caspar… could I trouble you with a few questions?"

Caspar was already hunched over, so he nodded using his entire body. "Sure, why not? Let's talk while I walk a couple loops around the square. I've got to get back out there, but…" He stretched his back dramatically. "… Yeah, this isn't such a bad idea."

After ensuring that no one was listening, Dimitri asked, "Could you tell me more about how Fódlan is faring after the war? We've heard very little in Almyra. I know Byleth is queen over a united Fódlan, but I know nothing beyond that."

Caspar nodded. "The war never drove that deep into the Alliance, so it's holding up pretty well. Fort Merceus was demolished, and Enbarr got a rough treatment, but otherwise, the Empire came out relatively okay, too. We mostly operated with subterfuge rather than fight head-on… not normally my style, but at least it meant I didn't have to face my father." Caspar's face fell for just a moment before he cleared his throat. "… Anyways, I think you know the state the Kingdom was left in. The good news is that it didn't get any much worse after you left."

"How is Byleth ruling this new government, then? Fódlan hasn't seen united rule in over four hundred years. That transition won't be easy."

"Ha! Sorry, but I'm not really a policy expert. I do know that the idea is for each region to have a governor of sorts that reports to Byleth. The titles will sound familiar- the Prime Minister of Adrestia, the Leader of Leicester, and… the Shield of Faerghus, I think? Anyways, I think the idea is that these governors will be elected by councils that represent lots of interests- important nobles, church officials, guilds, and the like. Byleth is allowed to reject the nomination, but the councils can override her with a strong enough majority. It's not a permanent position; the governors will have to be reelected every few years. I don't know the actual numbers for any of these things, so don't ask. It was all just planning when I left."

"Have the governors been elected yet?"

"I think the elections were set for the early next year. Ferdinand has apparently been doing some great work, so he's pretty much guaranteed to earn his nomination. Holst Goneril is easily the favorite in Leicester."

"And in Faerghus?"

Caspar struggled to formulate an answer. "Well… uhh… It's something of a mess, honestly. The problem is that the Kingdom's loyalties were deeply split, and that hasn't changed. Queen Byleth's government had Count Rowe deposed after the war, so the former Dukedom houses threw their support to Baron Dominic. The eastern houses that stayed loyal to House Blaiddyd prefer Margrave Gautier or the new Duke Fraldarius. I haven't followed it since I came to Brigid, but if they can't find a compromise candidate, it's going to get ugly."

Dimitri fell silent. His return would certainly unify Faerghus under a single figure, but it would also threaten the stability of Byleth's government. That was not an option.

"Whatever happened to Cornelia?" Dimitri eventually asked.

"That's the woman that ran the Dukedom, right? No one knows. She and her posse vanished from Fhirdiad once the news of Enbarr's fall reached there. We didn't have the resources to pursue her at the time."

"I can imagine. Taking Enbarr must have been difficult, especially with such a small army."

"Heh, it was pretty crazy! They put up quite the fight, even after we breached the palace. In fact, I got myself in a bit of a tight spot until our unannounced backup showed up. Talk about a pleasant surprise. I guess we have you to thank for that, right?"

Dimitri squinted in confusion. "I am unsure what you mean."

Caspar came to stop and stared directly at Dimitri. His eyes seemed to glow orange in the light of the fires. "Wait… Is it possible that… Do you really not know?"

"... Know what?"