A/N: Howdy! As always, thanks for the new favs, follows, and reviews :) Love you all loads.
By the way, I joined a discord server recently. It's called The Fanfiction Treehouse. A bunch of Fire Emblem fanfiction writers are on that server, including those who write amazing fanfics here on this site. If that isn't a reason to join, I don't know what is. For those who are interested in chit-chats about the game, writing, or just want a few friends to talk about anime and life with in general, here's the invite code: u89gs745fn
[White Clouds]
Chapter 11: Brewing Storm
Satiana twirled the pen with her fingers, flipping the book's pages with her other hand. The sound of paper rustling echoed in the library, the candlelights flickering to the light breeze from the motion. She paused her movements, eyes narrowing in on the fourth bullet point in the text she was reading.
'Caldea, an independent nation located above the peninsula to the North of Fodlan and the West of Sreng. Neighbors with what used to be called the Duscur territory. The land boasts nothing noteworthy to make it a desirable travel location. However, there are rumors of hidden cities underground, housing famed warriors who lost their lords and other infamous criminals. A lawless land. Poor and underdeveloped, yet over-populated.'
She closed the book with a thud and placed it on the pile of documents next to her. Sighing in disappointment, she reclined in the chair, stretching her arms high behind her back. Satiana had spent the past few days in the library, soaking up all the knowledge in the materials they offered the students. Most of the books in the library contained folklore regarding the birth of Fodlan, the Goddess's descent, and stories of the Elite Ten. None of them interested her, and she quickly skimmed through the contents.
The Garreg Mach library was indeed massive and extensive. However, it was apparent that the collections were pre-approved by the Church. Religious texts, lores regarding the Goddess, war strategy, battalion improvement. Satiana kept her expectations low when she first entered the library, glancing at the familiar-sounding titles down the aisle.
Her eyes flickered to the second floor of the library. The entrance was barred with red ropes that blocked the staircase. Two knights stood quietly by each staircase, left and right, guarding the entrance.
If there's something worth checking out, it'll be the documents hidden up there. Perhaps I should sneak in at night…
The bell rang, reverberating down the empty aisles, signaling the end of the day. Satiana stood up with a hefty sigh, carrying the pile of books in her arms as she placed them back into their positions on the shelves. After neatly organizing the books, she left the library, slowly walking down the stairs to the ground floor. She exited out the North Courtyard, heading past the classroom towards the monastery's main entrance.
Jeralt visited her after class, telling her that Renard had something urgent he wished to talk to her about. The sun was already setting over the horizon, mingling in with the rolling clouds until all that was left of it was a chalky mauve. She needed to quicken her pace if she wished to reach the town before the sky went dark.
She strolled past the gates, heading down the mountainous path leading down the hill. A flash of red suddenly appeared in the corner of her vision, and she spun her head around in surprise.
Sylvain paced himself right next to her, a flirtatious smile on his features. "Good evening, Satiana. What's a beautiful girl like you doing all alone out here?" He greeted her suavely. "Oh, perhaps you have already gotten yourself a date tonight? That's too bad. I was looking forward to getting to know you better."
Satiana continued to quicken her pace, hoping to leave him behind. "I don't know what you're up to, but I don't appreciate flattery much. Especially when it stinks of lies," Satiana commented, shooting a harsh glare as she brushed past his shoulder.
Sylvain's smirk only grew wider. "I see, so you're that type of woman. There's nothing that fires me up more than a cold-hearted woman. It'll be a challenge to break through your wall. If you know what I mean," he added suggestively with a wink.
Satiana blanched, grimacing in disgust. "Sylvain, if I may be brutally honest. I don't appreciate your lackluster…flirting skills. You should try it on someone more shallow who'd be interested in your silver tongue."
Sylvain just shrugged. "Well, there's no one but you to try my flowery language on right now." He fastened his pace, trailing slightly behind Satiana. Then, nonchalantly crossing his arms above his head, he smiled up at the sky. "Oh, the sunset is quite beautiful today. The fiery and passionate red — it reminds me of you," his baritone voice purred in her ears and she shuddered as goosebumps flickered all over her skin.
Satiana felt her eyebrows twitch uncontrollably.
Okay, that's it.
She halted in her steps, turning around to face Sylvain. She placed her hands on her hips, hoping to look intimidating. "Sylvain, I don't know what you're up to, but my patience is running thin. If you have business in town as well, then perhaps we can walk there together. But please, keep that blabbering mouth of yours shut," she snapped.
Her automatic mode of self-preservation had always been bluster and bravado, and she wasn't about to start mincing her words now, even straight to that sinfully gorgeous face of his. All civility flew out to space as she released her full annoyance on him.
Sylvain pretended to back away, hands hanging awkwardly in front of him. "Wow, I was just trying to make small talk. You know, I was serious about getting to know you better," Sylvain pouted, puckering his lips. "We're now classmates, after all. So what's wrong with wanting to know your friend better?"
Satiana exhaled heavily, glare hardening. "Perhaps I can take you more seriously if you stop it with the jokes. If you want to be friends with me, I assure you, this is not the way to go about it. I hate empty flattery of all things. Please, take that as a warning."
"Alright, if you say so," Sylvain shrugged, a lopsided grin returning to his face. "Then, let's start with an ice breaker. How are you feeling today?"
"Like I got slapped in the face by the Goddess," Satiana flatly replied, moving her feet forward.
Sylvain visibly winced at her, following after her trail with light steps. "If something is bothering you, I'm happy to lend an ear."
"Thanks for the offer, but I don't think we know each other well enough yet."
"That's too bad. I thought we could bond over a cup of tea. You know, share our worries and get to know each other more…intimately."
And there it was again, the honey-dripping words. The obvious seduction. Lame honey traps. Although she had already read the student files of the Blue Lions many times the day before, nothing could have mentally prepared her for the sort of frontal attack Sylvain was attempting.
Satiana wasn't used to such flattery and debauchery. A philanderer like Sylvain was her worst nightmare. She had lived her whole life, innocent and free from such distracting emotions like romance or sexual tension; they had no place in her blood-stained reality. She didn't know how to handle him, other than standing her ground stubbornly against his relentless verbal abuse, putting on a facade of indifference despite the queasy feeling it gave in her stomach. Although some girls swooned over him, Satiana didn't understand what they saw in him.
"Then, I suggest you first get intimate with my sword," Satiana drawled as she placed her hand on the hilt of her sword, shifting up the edge slightly so that the silvery gleam sparkled underneath the thread of lights that lingered in the darkening sky. "Care to try?" Her eyes sparkled with an underlying threat.
Sylvain went ashen, face paling as he chuckled dryly. "Uh, thanks for the offer, but I will politely refuse," he fumbled over his words.
Satiana hummed in satisfaction. She pushed her sword back into its sheath. "Good. I suggest you drop it with the innuendos."
"Duly noted, ma'am," Sylvain responded with a salute that screamed insincerity, much to Satiana's chagrin.
"Everything about you just seems so…exaggerated and forced. Is this really how you act on a daily basis?" Satiana frowned. "No wonder you have such a notorious reputation."
Sylvain shrugged nonchalantly. "Perhaps my flower language doesn't work on you, but there are plenty of women out there who fall for it easily."
Satiana glanced at him, narrowing her eyes with suspicion. "Somehow, I doubt that's true."
It was only for a brief moment when Satiana felt the hot air around her crackle, an icy breeze enveloping her. Sylvain's expression froze for a split second before he chuckled dryly, smile uncannily plastic. "Hey, I may be a good-for-nothing, but at least I'm a noble with a proper crest. And the heir of the household too. The girls love my jokes," Sylvain spoke calmly, but there was an underlying acerbic and cynical tone to his words.
His smile didn't reach his eyes, and Satiana was immediately reminded of the day she first met Renard. The boisterous laughter, the sneaky grin, the bantering, the teasing remarks. The way he maneuvered himself with grace near other nobles, in contrast to the blunt and honest way he interacted with Jeralt, Byleth, and Satiana. Sylvain's personality had an uncanny resemblance to Renard, minus all the flower and infatuating charm.
Satiana paused mid-step, her interest peaked. Sylvain halted behind her, frowning. "What's wrong, Satiana?"
Satiana turned around on her heels and stared directly into Sylvain's warm, honey-brown gaze. Again, another resemblance to someone she held dearly in her heart, Jeralt Eisner. The suspicion and distaste immediately dissipated into thin air as she felt her shoulders relaxing, expression softening. All of a sudden, Sylvain didn't appear so strange and foreign to her. The scent of comfortable normalcy permeated in the air, and Satiana's lips twitched upwards.
A man with Renard's personality and Jeralt's eyes, huh?
"It's nothing. I just didn't think you were one to indulge yourself with self-deprecating jokes. You have quite the twisted sense of humor," Satiana found herself relaxing unconsciously as she let loose a quiet chuckle under her breath.
Sylvain's eyes widened, lips parting in comically stunned surprise. His lips quivered slightly, his shoulders tensing up. "E-Excuse me?" His mask slipped for a split second as he stuttered over his words. His eyes lit up in realization at the damning mistake, and the wall was back, an invisible barrier between them. "I was being serious, you know? You should see how all the ladies drop themselves to their knees, swooning over me. If I weren't popular, I wouldn't have such a reputation, would I?" Sylvain laughed aloud, waving his hand dramatically in the air, though it only sounded forced to Satiana's keen eyes and ears.
"If you say so," Satiana smiled knowingly. "But you didn't look like you were proud of that fact just now. For a brief moment, that is."
Sylvain's expression completely faltered this time. His brows scrunched up in awkward angles, lips turning slightly purple as he chewed over them. He stopped walking after her, lingering further behind, frozen stiff in place.
Satiana heard the sound of footsteps slowing behind her. She turned back to face him, jerking her chin towards the nearing town. "I thought you had business in town as well?"
Sylvain blinked once, then twice, releasing himself out of a stupified state. "O-Oh! Yeah, I did. I wanted to pick up some girls tonight—the usual stuff. The night's long, after all," he replied in short sentences, eyes darting in every other direction but hers.
"Sorry, but I have company tonight. Not the kind that you imagine, though," Satiana replied. "I'll take my leave now. I hope you have a pleasant evening, Sylvain."
And then Satiana was gone, running down the hills towards the town.
Sylvain was left stranded behind in the middle of the mountains that loomed over his small figure. The darkness crept upon him, the stars in the sky twinkling as if mocking him for his pathetic display. An acidic emotion rose in his chest, and he found his eyes trailing after her receding figure, disappearing into the bright lights of the town. A storm was brewing in his weary eyes, a raging maelstrom of gut-twisting sadness, soul-breaking fatigue. It was a brief moment of vulnerability underneath the well-toned mask he had on. A cynical chuckle burst out of his clogging throat. He shook his head vigorously as if chasing away the yearning his heart suddenly cried out for.
"So, that's how she sees me, huh?" Sylvain whispered to himself, his words so soft and quiet it felt like the wind would snatch away his entire fragile being, empty soul and all.
Satiana had no idea why Renard asked to meet him in a tavern of all places. She was underaged and completely inexperienced with the nightlife.
A stranger holding a giant jug of beer crashed into her sides, and she yelped, stumbling away from him. The woman on his arms was svelte and sinuous, so beautiful that she practically glowed. Gliding with effortless grace in a figure-hugging, floor-trailing midnight blue lace dress, she swayed her hips down the crowd that parted ways for her. Satiana, dressed in her school uniform, hunched into herself, hiding between the drunkards dancing across the floor. The smell of rancid ale and sweat made her gag, clutching her mouth shut with her hands as she swerved through the raucous crowd, searching for the familiar sight of brown hair.
Soon enough, she spotted the brunette, staring back at her with brightened mossy-green eyes from the far corner behind the bar counter. The sly smirk and amusement whirling in his eyes — Satiana knew then without a doubt that Renard had orchestrated the whole thing. Ever since they reached the monastery, life had been flowing smoothly, perhaps too fluidly for the assassin who enjoyed living on the edge that he now sought entertainment elsewhere—for example, teasing his dear student by putting her into an awkward situation.
Satiana scowled, stomping her way towards him. Renard didn't wait for Satiana to find her tongue. He tousled his messy strands of hair back, smirking in her direction, swaying the clear glass of beer in front of her. "Hey, there. Having fun, Satiana?" he drawled.
"Things could be better. Much better, Renard," she emphasized, hardening her glare. She slid into the seat next to him on the bar counter, ignoring the curious gazes from the gallery looking her way. "Did you really have to do this to me? Seriously? A tavern, of all places?"
He shrugged nonchalantly as if nothing was his fault. "Meh. It's a decent place to chat. Everyone minds their own businesses around here. Maybe a few drunkards eavesdrop, but they'll forget it all by the time the sun is up again."
Satiana stared pointedly at him. "Of course. That makes a lot of sense," she deadpanned, not giving him even an inch of her trust.
He waved her off, chugging the glass of cold beer down his throat. He wiped his mouth with the end of his sleeves, grinning at her. "Just relax, will you? I just want to hear about your day."
Satiana eyed him with suspicion but relented in the end. "Nothing much. I just sparred with Byleth in front of the other students. Got kind of famous. One of them keeps hitting on me. And then I found out I had a stupid crest after all," she spat fire, summarizing in a list the events of the day.
Renard, half-drunk, slowly raised his eyebrows. "You got hit on? Damn. Time flies. You're already a grown-up, huh?"
Satiana facepalmed, groaning into her sweaty hands. "Really? Of all things you got from that, it's the one that matters the least?"
"No, seriously. Which idiot chose to flirt with you, of all people? There are so many…softer candidates out there. He must have poor taste," Renard suddenly guffawed, utterly high on alcohol.
Satiana felt her eyebrows twitch again for the umpteenth time that evening. "Renard, I don't want to hear that from someone who's never been hit on in his whole life."
Renard stared at Satiana as if she had sinned in front of the Goddess. He gasped, hugging the glass of beer to his chest. "You insolent child! I never raised you to speak that way to your mentor."
Satiana felt her patience growing thin as she clenched her fists. "Renard, I swear to god, if you don't sober yourself up in the next minute or two, that jug is going to have a nice long talk with your forehead." She cracked her knuckles to make her point, scorching glare directed right at Renard's head.
He winced, chuckling awkwardly as he placed the glass down on the table. "O-Okay, fine. I just wanted to have some fun."
Satiana scoffed. "I can see that. But back to business, please."
In less than a second, Renard's previously reddened cheeks paled. His eyes became focused, lips tightening into a deadpan. It was as if the man in his drunken stupor had disappeared right in front of her eyes. Satiana was reminded again that the man in front of her was a skilled fighter, no matter how silly he acted at times.
"I heard you the first time, don't worry. Just didn't want to believe it," Renard lowered his voice. His eyes narrowed in on Satiana's figure. "So, you found out you have a crest? From where?"
Satiana sighed, crossing her legs. "I don't know how I got it, but I have something called the Minor Crest of Aubin. I don't remember their experiments succeeding, and nothing seems particularly wrong with my health as of now, so I'm assuming I inherited it through my blood. Professor Hanneman suggested that maybe my biological parents were related to the original owner of this crest."
At that moment, Renard's expression froze. His jaw clenched before he huffed a shaky sigh, a single breath packed with confusion, conflict, anger, and something akin to guilt. His eyes seemed to glaze over, blank and dull.
Satiana watched the flitting emotions across his face, concern growing as her nose crinkled. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly.
"What was the name of the professor who found out you bore a crest again?" Renard asked monotonically, voice devoid of emotion.
Satiana tilted her head to the side in inquiry. "His name is Hanneman. I think his full name was Hanneman von Essar. Why? Is there something wrong with him?"
"No, it's nothing," Renard replied flatly. "Just thought I heard that name somewhere before. Probably a mistake. By the way, about that crest of yours," he switched the topic so fast Satiana didn't have the time to interrogate him for his peculiar reaction. "I think I heard about the name Aubin before. Someone mentioned it down in the Abyss."
The onslaught of information spilling from Renard's lips deterred Satiana's attention from the brief slip-up in his mask. Satiana's lips puckered, eyes lighting up in surprise. "Really? You've heard it before? Also, what the hell is the Abyss?"
"The Abyss is like a haven for various vagabonds who seek solace underground. Underneath the monastery lies a series of secret tunnels that lead to an underground town. You remember when I told you I killed my father and escaped from my household? I ended up staying in the Abyss for a few years after that," Renard explained.
"Huh, that sounds kind of neat," Satiana contemplated. "Doesn't sound that different from Caldea. Do you think you can take me there one day? It seems like the best place to search for clues and gossip," she mused, rubbing her chin in thought.
Renard laughed, taking another gulp from his jug of beer. "I'll take you there after I come back from the Western Church. Don't go there alone, or you'll find yourself trapped in the maze."
At his words, Satiana choked on thin air. "Wait, what?!" She raised her voice over the counter, slamming her fists onto the tabletop. The glass rattled, sending peculiar gazes their way, and she flinched, quietly muttering an apology. "I mean, what?" she repeated in a muffled voice. "Why are you going to the Western Church?"
"Next mission," Renard curtly spoke with a shrug. "I'll infiltrate the Western Church and search for clues up close. See what they're up to."
"But isn't that kind of dangerous? You'll be walking right into the enemy's lair!" Satiana protested, eyes glazing up with worry.
Renard reached his hand over her head, gently rustling her hair with affection. "No need to worry about me. I may act like a clown sometimes, but I'm still your teacher, a masterful assassin. You just focus on befriending those kids and the Church, okay?"
Satiana frowned, lips puckering into a pout. "I'd rather join you instead. There's nothing interesting to be found inside the Central Church unless I trespass without Rhea and Seteth knowing."
"Then just do it," Renard snorted. "What's stopping us from, well, stealing a few things?" He wiggled his fingers knowingly with a mischievous smirk. "That's how we get things done fast, right? Screw the law."
Satiana found herself snickering. "I guess you're right. But really, be careful, okay? Don't go getting yourself killed. We still have the real enemy to catch out there," she ended on a low note, brows furrowing.
Renard grinned. "I'm telling you. Leave it all to me. Besides, I already promised Jeralt. I'm not kicking the bucket before he does. Can't leave you kids all alone now, can I?" He chuckled as he stood up from his seat. He reached into his pockets and grabbed a few gold coins, throwing them across the bar counter at the owner. Then, he turned towards Satiana. "Guess I'll be off now. If something comes up, just send me a letter to the address I gave Jeralt." He waved a hand at her before he disappeared into the crowd, refusing to look back.
Satiana blinked once, then twice. She stared awkwardly at the owner, who was shooting daggers at her with his eyes. Flinching, she immediately scrambled away from the counter, heading towards the exit after Renard.
"W-Wait, don't leave me here!" She yelled after him.
Renard slipped past the crowd with ease, losing Satiana's watchful eye. He swerved into an alley behind the tavern, flicking a piece of gold coin in the air. His mossy-green eyes glowed in the night like a predator lurking after its prey. The moonlight cast a dark, long shadow behind his trail as he laughed grimly to himself.
"Hanneman…that filthy Essar…so this is where you escaped to, huh?" Renard cursed under his breath, the looming threat in his voice blending in with the sound of boisterous laughter and music echoing down the alley.
Byleth handed out so many flowers on random occasions that sometimes, Felix believed the Ashen Demon was actually just a gardener in disguise. The professor had taught them for only three days, yet she had already given Felix three violets, a forget-me-not, and a bouquet of pitcher plants to take back to his dorm room. Felix had no idea what kind of magic she possessed, but she grew flowers at a miraculous pace.
Aside from her lectures and the sparring sessions with the students, Byleth spent most of her time fishing in the pond outside the dining hall or taking care of the plants in the garden with Dedue. Although Byleth was indeed a talented professor, it came along with a few special quirks that Felix couldn't quite understand. She was always teaching with a stone-face, expressionless as she slammed the end of her sword into her student's throat. But then there was this unexpectedly awkward side of her that attempted to gain her student's affection with gifts and flowers every day.
Felix had a feeling Jeralt Eisner forgot to teach his child basic etiquette and the art of human interaction. Then again, he wasn't one to criticize others for things he himself could not handle.
The campus had grown used the image of bulky men like Dimitri or Dedue, carrying pots of flowers around with a small smile on their faces. Felix didn't want to include himself in their ranks, but it was hard to do so when Byleth kept making up random excuses to shove them into his hands.
Felix sighed in disdain as he sat on his bed, staring at the vase of flowers on his desk. He wanted to go to the training grounds and work himself until he was exhausted, but it was already dawn. Even a man of monstrous stamina like Felix needed at least three hours of sleep.
*Knock Knock*
The sound of someone banging on his door broke him out of his drowsiness. He scowled, dragging his feet to the door, murderous intent leaking out as he prepared to murder the idiot who dared to knock on his door at who-knows-what-time-it-is in the morning.
He turned the doorknob and greeted the intruder with a glare. "What do you want?"
To his surprise, it was Ingrid. She looked completely weary, eyes blurring with sleep. Her hair was frazzled, loose strands poking out of her usual ponytail. Felix's eyes trailed down to the man leaning against her, the bold red hair that screamed trouble, and he immediately slammed the door shut.
"Felix, get out of your room now and take care of this mess!" Ingrid's voice was muffled from the other side of the door.
Felix only groaned to himself, knocking his forehead against the door in exasperation.
Of course, it's the damn fool.
Reluctantly, he slowly opened the door to face the oncoming train of chaos. Ingrid practically shoved Sylvain's limp body into his arms. If only Sylvain weren't his self-proclaimed best friend, he would've thrown him out the window, but unfortunately, he cared too much for his own sanity.
"Some girls from town came to get me earlier. They said he was causing a ruckus at their bar. It's your turn to take care of him," Ingrid spat in annoyance, sighing loudly. "Sometimes, I wonder why I'm even friends with him."
"That makes the two of us," Felix scoffed, grimacing as he took in a quick whiff of air that smelled of alcohol and raunchy perfume.
"Anyway, just let him sleep on your floor or something." Ingrid brushed the strands of hair away from her face.
Felix sighed. "Fine. But the next time this happens, don't bother bringing him back."
Ingrid shook her head. "Felix, you know I can't do that, even if I really want to," she confessed quietly in the end. "Anyway, just take care of him for today. See you in class later." Ingrid tiredly smiled at him before she walked down the hallway back to her room.
As soon as Ingrid left, Felix slammed the door shut with his leg before dropping Sylvain unceremoniously onto the floor. Sylvain let loose a grunt of air as his back collided against the carpet. He blinked blearily, rubbing his post-sleep eyes as he groaned in pain. It took him a few seconds before he managed to see clearly.
He glanced up at Felix, staring right into the stormy face with a droopy grin. "Uh, morning Felix. Why are you here in my room?"
Felix's eyes twitched. "This is my room, Sylvain."
"Oh. That's…unfortunate," Sylvain drawled, picking himself up from the floor. He stood up on wobbly legs, swaying left and right, bumping his elbow into the table. He cursed under his breath and rubbed smooth circles around the new bruise, blowing air onto it like a child. "And here I thought a slap on the face was enough for the day. What did I do to deserve this?" he grumbled to himself, handsome features looking incredibly worn-out for once.
Felix stared at Sylvain's drooping face and noticed the pulsating red on his cheeks. He snorted. "Whatever it was, I'm sure it was entirely your fault."
"I just wanted to get to know her better, you know?" Sylvain frowned.
"I'm sure your idea of getting to know someone better involves flattering them with lies or begging them for attention," Felix deadpanned. He crossed his arms over his chest. "How pathetic of you."
"You and your snide remarks," Sylvain groaned, rubbing his face into his palms. "I don't want your sarcastic comments this early in the morning."
"I don't want to see your face either, Sylvain. Get out if you're awake." Felix pointed his thumb towards the door, eyes burning with annoyance. "I need to sleep."
"Oh, come on. Can't we chat for a bit?"
"If you want company, go back to those girls downtown."
It was nearly six in the morning, judging from the way the sun peeked over the horizon, and Felix wanted nothing more than to slam his foot into that annoyingly sinful face. But he had to be patient. It was Sylvain, not a stranger. Then again, at times, Sylvain did seem like a stranger to him.
Sylvain finally sobered himself up as he coughed into his hands. He rubbed the strands of his messy hair, exhaling heavily. "You're mad at me, aren't you?" Sylvain pointed out, meekly glancing at Felix.
"I'm always mad at you, Sylvain."
Sylvain laughed dryly. "That's true. Okay, today was my bad. I'll leave you to your…beauty sleep or whatever it is you're up to." He stumbled over to the door, hand on the knob. Then, he turned his head around. "You know, Satiana might be a more formidable woman than I thought."
This particular remark immediately caught Felix's waning attention. His eyes hardened as he took a step forward towards Sylvain. "What do you mean by that?"
Sylvain leaned his back against the door. "I just tried to seduce her for the heck of it."
Felix's gaze wandered towards Sylvain's flaring cheeks. "I can imagine how that went."
"Oh, this?" Sylvain pointed to his cheeks. "That's from a different girl. Satiana tried to cut me in half instead."
For some reason, Felix could vividly imagine that happening. The way she handled herself with the sword? A half-assed bloke like Sylvain didn't stand a chance.
"Anyway, that's not the point." Sylvain ruffled his hair vigorously, frown deepening. "She's quite perceptive. I don't know how I feel about that. But she's kind of nice."
At his vague words, Felix raised his eyebrows at Sylvain with a knowing look in his eyes. "Sylvain, I'm not asking how you feel…romantically towards her," he grimaced at the word dripping off his tongue.
"Oh, no, don't get me wrong. I'm not at that stage of infatuation yet." Sylvain winked in Felix's direction, much to his chagrin. "I'm just saying there's more to her than how she presents herself to us. So, in essence, you're right. She is someone to look out for, but I don't think she's as dangerous as you believe she is."
Felix glanced off to the side, mind whirling with questions.
"She may be strong and sharp-mouthed at times, but if she didn't have a kind heart, I highly doubt she could…well…" Sylvain trailed off, chewing over his lips. "Sort of see through me."
Felix stared blankly at Sylvain. Although Sylvain acted like a fool — was a fool — he wasn't stupid. Sylvain hardly handed out his full trust to someone. In fact, perhaps he had a shell even harder to break through than Felix and Dimitri combined. So if this man, the embodiment of lies and distrust, said that he saw something good within her, it was probably true.
But even kind people can stab you in the back without warning. This was the kind of world they lived in. There was no place for such soft and weak emotions of that sort in Felix's world. He knew best how it felt to have your genuine admiration and love trampled on — the feeling of cold-blooded betrayal. For a split second, an image of his father appeared in his head, and he shut his eyes tightly.
"Actually, you know what?" Sylvain's eyes suddenly brightened up, a peculiar train of thought entering his mind. "She kind of reminds me of you, Felix!" He grinned toothily.
Felix snapped his eyes open. His temper flared, snapping him out of his trance. Gritting his teeth, he clawed back what little air of civility he could salvage. "Sylvain," he spoke sternly, voice laced with potent warning. "You don't know what you're talking about," he rumbled darkly, eyes icy with freezing sharpness.
Sylvain's expression froze, realizing that he had stepped forward into a landmine bound to erupt any moment. He had crossed the line, and he internally cursed at himself for being loose-lipped. He knew more than anyone how much it irked Felix to be compared to someone else. After spending a whole life under someone else's shadow, it wasn't like Sylvain couldn't understand his sentiments.
Sylvain laughed awkwardly, and he hurriedly opened the door, backing away from the looming threat in front of him. "Uh, yeah, never mind! I was just, you know, being an idiot as usual. S-See you in the morning, Felix!" He practically scrambled down the hallway, tripping over his foot halfway down the corridor.
The door slammed shut with a loud thud. Felix scowled to himself, feeling the irritation pushing him to the brink of insanity. Of all things Sylvain could have said, it was the worst option possible. Felix stomped over towards his bed, threw himself into the covers, and shut his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the haunting words echoing in his head.
"I am Felix Hugo Fraldarius…and no one else," he muttered to himself like a mantra, forcing himself to fall asleep to the chirping birds outside his window, his head thumping with pain.
A mottle of baby blue and white blended into morning grey, adorning the newborn sky. Birds flew high across the rolling clouds, chirping cheery tunes. It was a beautiful morning, a pleasant day to take a stroll outside, but to Hanneman, it signaled another day of shoving his head into a pile of thick-covered books detailing crests — a day of potential discovery.
The building was already buzzing with energy by the time he reached his room. Students, eager to learn, roamed freely around the campus, the sound of excitement like melodies to a renowned professor's ears. He unlocked the door to his room with a quick twist of his wrists, stepping inside the dusty yet cozy room.
As usual, he was greeted by a pile of documents, leaning over his desk — some scattered on the floor if he was too lazy to clean up after a late night's work. He strolled towards his desk, pushing away the pile of papers when a small envelope fluttered off his desk, swirling in the light breeze that entered through the open window.
He paused, blinking curiously. He had not been expecting any messages today. Not to mention, his door had been locked since last evening. It wasn't possible for someone to leave a message for him unless they somehow broke into his office. Imagining the scandalous act riled him up as he frowned, leaning down to grab the sinful letter.
He flipped to the back of the envelope. Then, to the front again. There was no name, address, or emblem on the envelope itself. It was simply blank, pure white. Perhaps it was a prank from one of his students, but being a researcher, his curiosity always won against his logical brain, and he sliced open the letter with a knife.
The sound of paper rustling in the air echoed through the room. His expression tightened, face paling with each word. His hands started to tremble uncontrollably, and he accidentally dropped the letter. Hanneman stumbled back, his back hitting against the window as he slumped against it for support. He exhaled heavily, eyes quivering.
"Good goddess…why is he here?" Hanneman shook his head in disbelief.
Whatever business the author of the letter had at the monastery, he did not know. All he knew was that the letter contained a threat. Or really, it was a guilt-tripping effort at bending Hanneman to the author's will. But Hanneman had no choice but to agree to the sudden request. His hands were tied, the guilt suffocating the air out of his clogging throat.
Forcing himself to unlock his legs, he knelt and picked up the letter from the floor. With quick hands, he cast a fire spell, burning the contents of the letter into oblivion.
Hanneman stared absentmindedly out the window, feeling his stomach plummet. It was a beautiful day outside, but his chest was heavy, burdened with sins and guilt. Regardless, all he had to do was obey the author's will. This was his chance at redemption, after all.
He owed his beloved younger sister that much.
To Hanneman,
This is Renard von Dietrich. I'll get straight to the point. If you still feel even the slightest ounce of guilt towards me and Helena, then I hope you will heed my words carefully. The new student named Satiana Eisner. I heard that you found out she has a crest. The crest of the Four Apostles at that. Do not divulge information regarding her crest to anyone in the Church. Yes, that includes the so-called Lady Rhea and her followers.
I don't care what your circumstances are. You will do whatever it takes to hide this fact from those scoundrels. If by any chance word gets out, and harm befalls my beloved student, I will come for your head.
Mark my words, brother-in-law. This time, I will not miss the mark.
From,
Renard von Dietrich
"How much is this bundle of arrows?"
"About 1500 gold."
"Hm. You're telling me that the arrows are more expensive than the bow itself?"
"W-Well, they are steel arrows."
"The steel bow from the vendor next to yours cost only 950 gold, though."
"I-I'm sorry. My mistake! The steel arrows are 800 gold."
Satiana glared at the bearded man in front of the armory stall. The market inside the monastery walls was really just a tiny area with a couple of merchants and their stands. It was nothing as grandiose as the markets she once saw in town or villages around Fodlan. Regardless, this market was the closest place to the academy, where students could easily purchase weapons for their assignments. Satiana didn't have a problem with the idea at all; it was nice of the Church to bring in merchants from the city for their students.
However, this sleazy old bastard in front of her was a different story.
"Sir, cut that down to 600 gold," she brazenly announced, sticking her nose up in the air with confidence.
The man gawked at her. "E-Excuse me? I can't do that!"
Satiana practically snarled, stepping closer to the man. She resisted the urge to slug him in the neck, instead clenching her fists tightly, reining in her anger. "Sir, let me warn you," Satiana scowled. "You either give me the correct price, or I report you to the Church for scamming the students. You think these noble brats are easy prey, huh? Well, too bad, we have some smart-ass commoners who know their way around the real world here."
The man rubbed his hands together in a sticky manner, smile completely awkward and broken. "Y-Yes, ma'am! You may have these arrows for 600 gold. Please, just keep quiet this once!" He threw himself into the ground, bowing deeply underneath her feet.
Satiana huffed a sigh. "Alright, here's your gold." She dropped the gold coins onto the ground beneath her feet, watching with disgust as the man scrambled to gather them into a pile, drool dripping from his greedy mouth. "And don't forget my warning. I'll be coming back to visit you soon."
"O-Of course, dear customer! Please, come back again!" He seethed in anger, eyes twitching as he yelled after her in an exaggerated manner.
Satiana scoffed, rolling her eyes as she carried the bundle of arrows in her arms.
No matter where you are, there will always be scoundrels like these, huh?
She walked up the staircase, heading up to the entrance hall when a round of applause suddenly thundered behind her. Satiana blinked, turning on her heels to meet Ashe and Ingrid, staring at her with astonishment and admiration.
"That was amazing, Satiana!" Ashe beamed, clapping at her. "I've never seen such…such skillful haggling before!"
"You really shone out there, Satiana," Ingrid complimented with a smile. "You were radiant like a knight."
Satiana sheepishly rubbed the back of her head with her free hand, chuckling. "W-Well, I guess thank you? I didn't do anything special, though."
Ingrid shook her head. "I disagree. There have been rumors of illegal merchants sneaking into the monastery for a long time now, but no one has ever seen through their disguise before. Even if they did, I highly doubt one could diffuse the situation so elegantly as you did."
Satiana gaped at her. "You think what I did was elegant? To be honest, I just used the same methods the thugs back in my village used to steal money from their victims."
Ashe scratched his cheeks, an amused smile on his face. "Well, to be honest, you did resort to violence or verbal abuse in the end. But still, I believe you did it for the sake of the other students. That's an admirable thing to do. If it was me, I'd probably just hand over the money to them."
Ingrid turned towards Ashe, frowning. "Ashe, you can't just let others step all over you like that. If you knew about that scam of an owner, you should've told us!"
Ashe glanced down to the floor, shifting his weight onto the soles of his feet, swaying back and forth in a show of guilt. "W-Well, I don't really like conflict. Besides, we don't know the situation of that owner. Maybe he was in trouble financially."
"Perhaps, but it still doesn't make his actions right," Ingrid chastised. "Whatever the reason, he purposefully harmed the students. I think we should report him to Seteth. We can't leave him here. It'll only cause more victims."
Ashe opened his mouth to protest but then froze. His expression tightened, and he smiled awkwardly at Ingrid. "You're right. Will you do that for us, Ingrid?"
"Of course. I understand that you dislike conflict, but sometimes, we have to do things for the greater good," Ingrid declared, eyes softening as she looked over Ashe's wilted form. "Don't feel bad about yourself. It's our duty as a knight to uphold justice and the law."
Ashe nodded stiffly in response. Ingrid then excused herself, leaving to find Seteth. Satiana stared at Ashe, who was still frozen stiff, lost in the clouds on the staircase. She lightly patted him on the shoulder, breaking him out of his trance.
He blinked rapidly, eyes tuning in on her worried expression. "O-Oh! I forgot you were still here, Satiana. I'm sorry about that."
"You have nothing to apologize to me about, Ashe," Satiana smiled back at him. "Are you feeling alright? You don't look well at all."
Ashe flinched, brows creasing. "Oh, no, it's really nothing. It's just…" he trailed off, glancing downwards to the side. "I understand what Ingrid was trying to say. But I still feel like I wouldn't have reported him in the end." He fiddled with his fingers in a show of anxiety, lips trembling as he spoke his honest feelings.
Satiana's eyes softened at the conflict whirling in his pale green orbs. "You really are a kind person, huh?" She quietly pointed out.
Ashe blinked his eyes in confusion. "Who, me?" He pointed at himself, eyes widening in genuine surprise. "I'm not that good of a person. I just…kind of sympathize with him, that's all," he chuckled dryly, a forlorn expression overtaking his features.
Satiana hummed in thought, eyes crinkling with curiosity. "You say you sympathize with him. Why is that the case?"
Ashe's trembling gaze landed on Satiana, and dark blue clashed with lime green. "Well, I could ask the same thing to you. Why didn't you report him?" He questioned.
Satiana shrugged. "I didn't bother reporting him to the authorities because it's not like I fell for his trick. Besides, I gave him a warning already. Hopefully, he takes that to heart and changes his ways."
Ashe mused, contemplating. "So, what you mean is, you were willing to give him a chance?" The pale green orbs brightened with realization, the light slowly returning to them.
Satiana frowned at his remarks. "Well, that's not how I would've put it. Look, there are plenty of shady merchants like that out in the real world. Dealing with one of them isn't going to change anything. So I just didn't bother to waste my time reporting him when someone else just as bad could easily come and replace him."
Ashe nodded enthusiastically. "So, in short, you really were giving him a second chance! I knew that you were kinder than you appeared, Satiana."
Satiana blanched at the admiration sparkling in his eyes. "W-What? I think you're just spinning tales on your own now. I'm not that great of a person. Really, I just ignored the merchant because I was too lazy to deal with his bullshit."
Ashe sweatdropped at Satiana's choice of language but quickly shook himself out of his stupor. "Still, you ended up doing the right thing. At the least, your heart is in the right place." Then, he smiled wistfully, eyes glazing over with a fog of nostalgia. "You see, I was a poor commoner living on the streets before Lord Lonato adopted me. That's why I kind of understand his struggles. It's not easy to earn a living in such violent times."
Satiana frowned. "But you don't even know if that man actually has a legitimate reason for his actions. He could just be a run-of-the-mill thug."
Ashe smiled brightly at Satiana. "Of course, but I'd rather believe a lie than risk someone's life over that small amount of money."
Satiana's eyes widened, bulging in shock. "W-Wait a minute. So you're actually telling me you were just going to forgive the man regardless of his reasons to uphold your ideals and beliefs?"
Ashe blinked, cocking his head to the side innocently. "Yes. Is there something wrong with that?"
Satiana facepalmed, groaning in exasperation. "You, my friend, are going to get yourself into some serious trouble one day. You're way too kind for your own good."
Ashe laughed wholeheartedly at her remarks. "You might be right. But my kindness may help someone one day. I wish to be just like Lord Lonato who saved me." Then, he clapped his hand loudly in realization. "Oh! Now that you mention it, perhaps I should ask the vendor the reason for his actions! Maybe I can find a way to help his situation. Thank you for chatting with me, Satiana. I'll see you later!"
And before she could even reply, Ashe ran off towards the market, a light bounce to his steps. Satiana sweatdropped, staring after his receding figure in disbelief. She shook her head lightly, sighing in exasperation. "What is he, a saint? I really don't understand what goes on in his head."
"Don't bother. Ashe has always been that way."
Satiana blinked, turning around to meet the newcomer. Felix stood on top of the staircase, staring down at her with a sharpened gaze. He slowly strolled down to her level, pausing beside her.
"He's too kind for his own good. No matter how many times we tell him that, he continues on being the half-hearted fool he is," Felix commented bitterly. "By the time he realizes how harsh the world can really be, it'll be too late to save him."
"Is that what you think?" Satiana mused. "I'd prefer it if we had more people like him around. The world would be a much better place to live in." Satiana's eyes softened as she gazed at Ashe's small form, chatting enthusiastically with the old man at the vendor.
Felix only scoffed at her response. "What nonsense. That world will never come to be."
"One can dream on. At least it's something worth aiming for."
"Dreams and wishes are for the weak."
Satiana felt her eyes twitch, and she turned to face Felix's scorching glare with a fiery stare of her own. "Are you trying to pick a fight with me, or is this how you usually speak with everyone?" She narrowed her eyes with suspicion.
"I'm not trying to pick a fight with you. Although, I have to admit…" Felix trailed off, eyes twinkling with interest. "I am intrigued by your combat style. If you're free, come to the training ground. Let's have a spar."
Satiana's expression went blank. "So, you are picking a fight," she flatly pointed out.
Felix tilted his head to the side slightly, amusement whirling in his sharp gaze. "Think whatever you like. Follow me," he barked out an order, casually walking down the steps.
Satiana scowled in distaste, though she obediently followed after him. After all, despite how calm and collected she may appear in battle, her true essence lay in the bluster and bravado. Satiana was easily fired up and hotheaded; she was never one to back down from a fight. Besides, although she didn't want to admit it, there was one truth in Felix's challenging words.
She too, was intrigued by his sword — the man who fought on even ground with Byleth. But she would rather die than admit that to his cocky face.
A far distance from the monastery, another storm was brewing in the deep canyons of Zanado. Illuminated by nothing but the small streaks of sunlight creeping through the cracks between the rocks enveloping the cave, a familiar bandit stood haughtily in the center, eyes twitching in a blatant display of discontent. Kostas, the shaggy bearded bandit, stood facing a figure masked in red and white. They were of smaller stature than him, but there was no denying which of the two had the upper hand in the argument.
"What is this nonsense?" Kostas screeched, stomping forward towards the other figure. "All I was told was to kill as many noble pipsqueaks as possible! No one said anything about the Knights of damned Seiros being on our trail! And what was that mercenary group doing there?" He pointed a wooden stick at the masked figure; it was whatever remained of his giant axe after the battle. "This is all your fault! Why didn't you inform us about those bastards?!"
If she wasn't in such a sullen mood, Edelgard would've laughed at his pathetic attempt to threaten her. She crossed her arms, scoffing. "You have proven yourself worthless, distracted by something so trivial." Her voice was heavily distorted by the giant mask on her face, lending her a baritone-like tone. "I had hoped you would achieve your goal despite the setback. But now, a child of the knights' former captain is in play. Not to mention, a child who survived those wicked schemes. How interesting."
She narrowed her eyes underneath the mask.
And how very troublesome, as well.
"Hey, are you even listening to me, you rat bastard?!" Kostas screamed in her ears, clenching his fists in barely restrained fury. "We're being surrounded by the Knights on every edge of this blasted mountain. Sooner or later, they'll barge in and wipe us all out. What are you going to do about this mess you got us in?!"
Edelgard ignored him, musing in her own thoughts. "Hiring a mercenary as a professor…just what is that woman thinking…?"
"Alright, that's it!" Kostas hurled the stick in Edelgard's face.
Of course, she deflected it with ease, simply swatting it out of the air with her armored hand. "I see you seek death," she said matter-of-factly.
"What?" Kostas jerked back in shock. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Edelgard took a small step forward, her authority and ire crackling in the air around her as she pushed the man backward with her piercing stare. The bandit stumbled until he flattened his back against the wall behind him. He swallowed loudly under her pressure, sweat like glacials glistening on his forehead.
"Underestimating the knights was an amateur mistake. One you will pay for. The road to eternal torment awaits you all." Edelgard backed away from Kostas, turning around to face the other way, disregarding him completely. "It seems I'll have to search for your replacement…"
She didn't wait for him to respond. She had no use for fallen pawns. With a swift wave of her hand, she warped off into the distance under a spiral of blue and white lights. The scenery blurred, and when her magic ran out, she found herself in the forest at the bottom of the steep cliffs.
She exhaled lightly, feeling the throbbing pain in her head. Her hands twitched, and she raised them up to her helmet, wiggling it off with a few twists and turns. The cool breeze finally entered her lungs, and she couldn't help but feel the tension loosening inside of her. She stretched her arms above her head, shaking away any remnants of exhaustion.
Another sudden flash of light and a familiar man dressed entirely in black appeared beside her. He bowed his head slightly, greeting her with his usual elegance. "Lady Edelgard. How did negotiations go?"
"He has thrown a wrench in our plans. We let him be," she spoke vaguely, but Hubert understood her sentiments all the same.
They did not need to exchange many words to understand each other's thoughts, for they were one and the same. They shared the same fate, the same future, and the same beliefs. There were no secrets between them.
"As you wish, Lady Edelgard." Hubert's eyes then sparkled mischievously under the sunlight. "And what will you do with the…other wrench in your plans?"
Edelgard smiled gently at him. "Ah, you must be talking about the professor and that girl named Satiana." She sighed loudly, shaking her head in response. "I am not sure yet what to make of them. It's a pity they did not choose to join the Black Eagles. If they did, it would make our job much easier to keep an eye on their moves."
"I, for one, find the current status quo to be to our advantage," Hubert smirked cryptically.
"What do you mean by that?" Edelgard hummed in thought.
"It would be unwise to keep them close when we do not know where their allegiance lies. In addition, we have many plans that require utmost secrecy. Having that woman as our professor would be extremely…annoying, for lack of better word." Hubert brushed his chin lightly. "Though, if I had to place my bets, I would suggest befriending the other lady by her side."
"Satiana?" Edelgard muttered, violet orbs twinkling with understanding. "I agree with you. We can leave the professor alone to do whatever she wants. But Satiana is a dangerous variable to our plans. If one day she decides to divulge what she knows to Dimitri…" she trailed off with a frown. "That would be our worst nightmare."
"Of course. The young prince does not have the right to stare into the darkness. Knowing his personality and…naive ideals, he would turn his blade towards us without hesitation," Hubert nodded. "We need those that slither in the dark to remain an untouchable existence. Until the future we seek bears fruition, we cannot allow any side acts to steal away the spotlight, can we?"
"If possible, I would love to bring her to our side," Edelgard suddenly started. She brushed her hair lightly over her shoulder, violet eyes narrowing. "If there is someone who will understand my cause, it would be someone who has survived through the same hell. However, we should be prudent with our decision. There's no need to hasten our plans. We still have twelve moons ahead of us, after all."
"Would you like me to observe her closely, Lady Edelgard?" Hubert questioned.
"No. I will do the questioning myself. There is something I need to make clear with her. All you need to do is provide me with the opportunity during the mock battle. You can do that for me, right, Hubert?" She glanced at him.
Hubert smiled pleasantly as usual and bowed his head. "As you wish, my lady."
"Good," Edelgard nodded. She crossed her hands behind her back, staring at the ebony tips of Hubert's head. "Tell my uncle we are ready to move on to the next phase of our plans."
"Yes, my lady."
Hubert disappeared in a mist of purple, warping off into the distance, leaving Edelgard to wallow in her thoughts. She sighed for the umpteenth time that afternoon, lifting her head to traverse the beautiful, serene sky above her. Unbeknownst to the lurking darkness in the shadows, the world continues moving on, leaving the poor victims stranded in the past.
She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of invisible ghosts screeching in her ears, echoing throughout the empty forest, filling the air as the wind subsided.
Will you be friend or foe? The last thing I wish to do is eliminate one of my own kind. So please, I hope that you will make the right choice, Satiana.