Preparations were complete within the afternoon. Before the sun had fully reached its zenith, horses and saddle bags were prepared for the party which would consist of the king, queen consort, the party from the border, Gilbert, who had returned to Fhirdiad as the captain of the royal guard and four members of the Blue Lion Lance Corp. They might have been ready to depart much sooner if it had been easier to convince Gilbert that a full military escort was not necessary.
While Gilbert oversaw preparations in the courtyard and stables, Dimitri took leave of her to consult the court mage, Cornelia, on what had transpired and their best course of action. Once Byleth was certain that Sylvian and his companions were settled with food and drink, she too took her leave to prepare.
Armed with new knowledge of her previous encounters with Margaret, Byleth gave explicit direction on what should and should not be laid out for her to wear. After a weak attempt to pack several bags and chests containing any number of dresses, the matronly woman conceded though she did insist on dressing Byleth and braiding her hair tightly for travel.
She was relieved to don thickly woven tights, shorts, a long-sleeved tunic and a padded doublet. All were dyed black and blue. The doublet had delicate looking silver thread about the padding and her riding cloak was hemmed in silver as well. Feeling more like herself than ever, Byleth found her way to the armory. Much to her surprise, Byleth realized she was excited to depart on a mission and would soon have a sword on her hip.
The armory was situated alongside a long, thin courtyard paved with polished grey stone. Opposite this courtyard were the stables and the smell of the outdoors and horses greeted her as she alighted the stairs. Breathing deeply, she felt suddenly at home even though the setting was still starkly unfamiliar. Through a tall archway at the far end of the courtyard, she could see the horses being gathered and saddled. The warp spell, regardless of the strength of the caster, would only carry them so far. They would ride the rest of the way to the border.
Gilbert, his red hair streaked with more gray that she remembered, was overseeing the outfit of soldiers that would be joining them. The breastplate adorning his barrel-like chest gleamed even in the light of an overcast day and displayed the image of a knight atop a griffin etched into the metal. The four soldiers standing before him gave the impression of experience and skill regardless of their age or fairness and the silver band of fabric at their biceps identifying them as hand-picked by the King for his Blue Lion Lance Corp.
As she strode nearer to them, Gilbert caught her eye and his right hand shot to his chest with a clang. "The Queen Consort approaches," he announced and the soldiers shifted into rigid attention, bringing the butts of their lances down against the ground with a precise click on the stones. Byleth smiled at the sound.
She stopped beside Gilbert, evaluating the soldiers silently as though she were inspecting her students. "They look well and fully prepared, Gilbert," she said, turning to address him.
"You are too kind, your Majesty," he replied. If he were pleased by the compliment, he made no outward show. His face remained stony as ever as he gave a small, respectful bow to her. "You are all dismissed. See to your horses, the mages from the School of Sorcery will arrive soon and we must be ready to depart."
Warmth spread through her chest as she watched him fondly. Even though the two of them remained formal in their dealings, she enjoyed his company.
With his soldiers dismissed, Gilbert turned to address her again. "May I fetch your sword from the armory, your Majesty?" She nodded and he was gone for only a moment before returning with a sword and a sword belt.
She wondered if this sword would feel strange in her hands or if her body would remember it for her. Goodness knew how long it had been since she'd held a sword. Taking the sheathed weapon from him, she gripped the two-handed hilt to pull the blade from the scabbard. It rang softly as she did so to her great satisfaction.
She stepped back, giving herself plenty of room to flourish the blade up, tip to the sky, then wind-milling to sweep across the plains of her body. The balance of the weapon felt perfect in her grip and the silver whispered as it cut through the air. With hardly a thought to her movement beyond evaluating the sword itself, she swiftly cut left to right and when her arm fully extended, she shifted the grip in her hand, allowing the tip of the sword to fall groundward before a flick of her wrist brought it back up, reversing her hold. She could not tell if simply the feel of a sword in hand was familiar or if it was this specific sword but it felt comfortable as she straightened and settled the length of the blade behind her back with her defensive hand over her heart. Satisfied, she returned the blade to it's scabbard.
"I trust that it is satisfactory?" asked Gilbert. When she smiled and nodded, his face lightened briefly with the faintest of smiles. "Excellent. His Majesty should be joining us soon and I expect that the mages will be here…"
"Father!" erupted an excited shout from behind them.
"... any moment now." He finished turning toward the sound in just enough time to catch a small figure barrelling toward him in his arms. "Annette," he stammered, looking embarrassed. "What are you doing here? I wasn't aware that they would send you as well."
"Of course they did!" chirped the short ginger-haired girl. "Well, they weren't at first but when I heard that Warpers were being called to the palace I marched right in on the head master and demanded that I come. One afternoon of classes cancelled isn't the worst thing. Hi professor!" Had she taken a breath during that explanation? Byleth smirked and gave a small shake of her head examining how Annette had grown.
Clothed in the long, elegant gown of a fully raised Gremory, Annette hardly looked like the girl she remembered. Her hair was gathered into a single bun at the nape of her neck, just visible above the cream-colored fur running along the high, exaggerated collar of her dress. The freckles that were once prominently speckled across her nose seemed to have faded but the vibrant green-blue of her eyes was just as Byleth remembered; they still sparkled with enthusiasm and unabashed joy as they settled on her former teacher.
"Annette!" scolded Gilbert. "You must address her Majesty with the proper respect and title. How many times must I remind you?"
Annette grimaced and raised a hand to cover her mouth as if to hold back her mistake. "I am so sorry, your Majesty! I really have the most terrible memory." She bowed quickly at the waist. "I beg your pardon!"
"I don't mind," Byleth reassured her. "I like being called that."
"Well…" Annette said, glancing with blazing cheeks between Byleth and her father. "Even so, I'll try my best not to forget again!"
"What classes will be cancelled?" Byleth asked, anxious to change the subject and curious as to why a single missing student should prevent an entire class from meeting.
"Just my afternoon theory class. But don't worry! I gave my students plenty of homework to keep them occupied just like you did profess … your Majesty!"
Byleth blinked. Annette was teaching at the Royal School of Sorcery?
"I meant that with all due respect, your Majesty. So… what is prompting the warp? Headed up to inspect the border?" she asked, rocking on her heels girlishly in precisely the same manner she'd done as a student.
Gilbert cleared his throat, drawing his daughter's attention back. His eyebrows furrowed deeper with his disapproval. "We cannot share the details at this time and you should remember that it is inappropriate to pry where royal matters are concerned."
Annette frowned, but did not allow his chiding to deter her. Clapping her hands together at her chin, she continued, "I saw Sylvain on the way over here but he didn't even look up when I called to him. He looked … not like himself. Is there something terrible happening?"
Byleth smiled, attempting to soften the harshness of Gilbert's scolding. "Trust us for now, Annette. I hope that that's all we are going to do."
The young mage did not look convinced but she offered a small smile of acceptance. "Okay, your Majesty. I will."
"Oh! Hello Annette. I didn't expect to see you here today," said Dimitri as he joined them. Byleth hadn't heard him approach and gave a small jump as he appeared beside her. His tone was pleasant enough but he wasted no time in waiting for a response before shifting back to the matter at hand. "Are the preparations complete, Gilbert? Our goal is to reach the border before sunset. We should not delay in departing."
"Yes, your Majesty. I shall assemble the soldiers," replied Gilbert. He bowed stiffly before taking his leave.
"I'll notify the mages," added Annette, clearly eager to help. She bowed, or rather bobbed, and was gone running after her father.
Dimitri watched them go thoughtfully which gave her the perfect opportunity to take him in. In all her recollection, she'd never witnessed him dressed for battle like this. She had noticed similar pieces of armor in the paintings and portraits about the palace but to see it adorning Dimitri's statuesque frame was enough to interrupt her train of thought entirely. Blue and silver plates that matched the coloring of her own attire covered him from the waist up and encased his arms and the most striking feature were the pauldrons joined together at his breastbone by a plate etched with the Blayddid crest. The grand pauldrons exaggerated the broadness of his shoulders alone but the ground-length cloak wrapped around them and topped with white animal fur added to the ferocity of his appearance. This was the King's armor, crafted to illustrate fearsome strength of the Blayddid crest-bearer.
He wore it as though it weighed nothing though the cloak alone must weigh 30 pounds and seemed oblivious to its effect on her. Her chest tightened and she realized that she'd been holding her breath which she released slowly and, hopefully, without notice.
"Cornelia has never heard of such an occurrence. She is going to consult her books while we are away but she doubted that the accounts were accurate." He paused and took his chin in his hand. "This all sits ill with me. It sounds too fantastic to be real and yet…" He made an exasperated sound and shook his head. "What do you make of all of this?"
Byleth fretted on her lower lip as she thought. Clearly, the trio from the border had experienced something horrific and, for all accounts, they corroborated each other's stories. Even now she could observe them listlessly preparing their horses. But it all seemed too fantastic to believe.
Then there was Sylvain. In the time that she had known him, nothing aside from the discussion of crests and nobility could shatter his confident demeanor, and even then, his resilience would restore his good humor almost as quickly as it had cracked. The strain at the corners of his mouth reminded her of Felix more than the reluctant, womanizing noble. He stood beside his gelding, bridle in hand, absently stroking its dark mane. What could have been so severe that his very demeanor had altered?
"I don't know yet," she finally replied softly, tearing her eyes away from the border soldiers to look up at her husband. He too was watching Sylvain and his party with an unreadable expression. "Whatever has happened, they believe it to be exactly as they have described. Even if it is not as they say it is, it must be terrible."
She clutched at the hilt of her sword reflexively as fear trickled along her spine and the feel of worked leather where she had expected to feel the smooth texture of the Sword of the Creator was jarring. A soft sigh slipped from her as she remembered that she did not have the relic. Dimitri must have heard it because he leaned close to her, lowering his voice and looking directly into her eyes.
"Are you sure that you're up to this? Things have happened so fast and we haven't had a chance to talk further about last night."
Byleth knew full well that he was talking about the episode at the mirror but color sprang to her cheeks as she recalled the events from earlier that night. Embarrassed, she lowered her eyes but not so quickly that she missed his own embarrassed grin and the beginnings of a blush. "Yes, I'm fine," she muttered and he leaned down to kiss her forehead.
"Just take it easy." He placed his chin on the top of her head, pulling her close enough that she could lean her cheek against his chest. Despite the chill from his armor, being closer to him was comforting. "Tell me if you feel faint again, okay?"
Slipping her arms beneath the fur of his cloak, she squeezed her arms around him tightly and muttered her agreement against his chest.
"And get your head out of the gutter, will you?" She could hear the grin on his face. "We have a royal appearance to maintain."
Byleth snorted in response and the two departed side by side to join the party at the warp site. So often, she had advanced or trailed behind him, playing a protective or supporting role to his strength and stamina. Strategically, it made sense that he charged the front line and she utilized that tactic often. Walking beside him like this brought on an unexpected exhilaration, a power that she could not recall feeling even with the Sword of the Creator blazing to life in her hands. As they passed beneath the arched, stone gateway, passing from shadow to light, everyone gathered there brought their hands to their chest and bent at the waist. In unison, they straightened with a clatter of armor and for the first time she could recall, standing squarely beside her lover with sword on her hip, Byleth felt like a Queen.
Soon everyone was in position atop their horses and situated in columns that alternated three abreast followed by three Gremory or Bishops from the School. Byleth adjusted herself atop her white mare then checked to make sure the blinders were positioned properly. Even the best trained warhorses could be skittish during a warp and, lined up as they were, precision and stillness were key.
Looking up, she saw Annette taking her position in front of her beside an older looking mage that must be the highest-ranking Bishop. Who else would be responsible for warping the king himself? Annette looked so grown up in her gown and, where she might have fidgeted under Byleth's scrutiny in the past, she was now self-assured and exhibiting confidence. Their eyes locked and Annette gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, your Majesty, I've been practicing!"
Byleth's stomach dropped and her face fell. What did Annette mean she'd been practicing? And why should she be worried? Just what happened when a warp spell failed? Before she could so much as look for support or voice her concern, the Bishop before Dimitri called for attention. The mages from the School all placed their hands together in front of their hearts as the Bishop chanted to set the rhythm and pace for the hand movements that would channel the spell.
A moment later, the magic users began a fluid circular motion with their hands, arching their arms in unison over their heads and then coming together before the chest again. No time for worry now. Byleth felt the air begin to tingle on her skin as the magic surrounded her. With a swift uprising of their hands, the mages completed the warp spell. The tingling around her intensified and then seemed to solidify in a tight seal that snapped around her as though it were a second skin.
In what felt like the blink of an eye, she was no longer facing the stables and armory within the castle but a well-worn, dirt road which wound ahead of them through a sweeping barren plain. Looking behind her, Byleth could see the high stone walls of Fhirdiad beyond the lancers and Sylvain's column in the distance. Low clouds obscured a clear viewing giving the city a fairy-tale feel. Viewing it this way felt like looking at a picture in a children's book.
The horses shifted nervously in their blinders. Muttered, comforting sounds rose throughout the party as they were removed from the animals' eyes. Byleth chose to dismount to remove them from her mare needing to feel the solid ground beneath her feet. Stroking her mare's nose reassuringly, she surveyed the plains before her. The grey sky above them allowed only small amounts of sunlight to filter through to the ground and the wind blew steadily along with no trees to slow it. Clumps of foliage grew sparsely and clung together as though banding together against the winter moons and wisps of tall thin grasses encroached on their gatherings.
A glance up to Dimitri and Gilbert, still mounted, found them talking softly together about how far they'd come and the ground left to cover. After a moment, Dimitri reigned his horse around to address the party. "Finish seeing to your horses and prepare to continue. We still have a ride of several hours before reaching the border and I mean to be there well before sunset."
When they departed, it was at a hard, fast pace. Dimitri's anxieties about what they would find manifested in the pace that he set, riding at the head of the column with Byleth and Gilbert behind. The road was well worn and easy for the horses to traverse and with no concerns about injury they could push even harder. The landscape that sped past them was much the same as everywhere else, barren and expansive. It told stories of the hard men and women who could tame and inhabit it. She alone seemed interested in the countryside and aside from the hard thud of hooves against the ground and the whooshing of the wind they rode in silence.
Tension among the riders made her suspect they had been briefed on what to expect, though stern faces among soldiers of Faerghus was not uncommon. Sylvain and his men rode just as grimly for the duration, barely looking up from the path before them. Gradually, the land began to change into small hills and soon, they neared the foot of the steepest hill that they had encountered. Sylvain spurred his gelding on to pass her and fell into step with Dimitri.
"We should stop here," he called, gesturing ahead.
Dimitri nodded. Gilbert reigned his horse to slow and signaled those behind him with a raised hand to slow their pace as well. The party stopped just as the road curved to circle about the hill, rather than cross over it. As though sensing something amiss, the horses all shifted nervously. Byleth stroked her mare's mane but could detect nothing strange or out of place. Whatever it was, the horses could sense it while humans could not.
"We should continue on foot from here. You'll be able to see it from the top of this foothill," said Sylvain passing the reigns of his gelding to Anton.
Frowning, Dimitri was the first to dismount followed by Gilbert and the Lancers. Taking Dimitri's gloved hand, Byleth swept her leg over the saddle to dismount. She held onto his hand for a moment more and he made no disagreement as they looked around. The pair exchanged concerned glances between releasing the other's hand.
Dimitri turned to take his lance from the saddle but stopped as Sylvain said, "You won't need that." Ominous as that sounded, Dimitri stepped back from his horse to join his friend at the base of the foothill.
Impatiently, Sylvain began the ascent. Dimitri and Byleth fell in behind, not waiting for Gilbert to complete his direction to the lancers that should remain behind with Jenson and Anton. Silence followed as well, making the sound of armored foot falls hurrying to catch up seem even louder.
"I don't know what I expected but I thought something would feel off when we got here," said Dimitri in hushed tones. The quiet tension surrounding them made speaking at full volume unthinkable.
"So did I," she replied puffing as the incline steepened. Even if they had felt like talking, the effort of mounting this hill in the face of the wind demanded what remained of her attention. It would certainly have been easier on horseback but eventually they neared the top.
Sylvain stopped just short of the crest and turned, looking back down the way they had come. "Go on," he said flatly and folded his arms protectively across his chest. "I've seen it enough."
"Are you ready?" Dimitri asked the older knight as he caught up to them. It felt as though they were preparing to spring a surprise attack not stand atop a hill in broad daylight.
Gilbert nodded and set his square jaw in a way that made his face appear to be etched in stone. Byleth caught Dimitri's eye as her pulse quickened in anticipation. They had no idea what to expect and she clutched habitually at the sword on her hip. She gave him the slightest nod and he returned it, confirming silently that they both were ready
Cautiously, the three approached the hilltop and crossed onto its crest.
Ice rippled across her flesh and through her veins as she gazed out into the remaining foothills that once fed into the mountain range separating Faerghus from the northern peninsula. She was vaguely aware of the armored figure of her husband dropping heavily to both knees beside her but she was frozen, unable to tear her gaze away from a darkness so complete that at once it looked endless and solid. As her body forced a breath into her lungs a single tear sprang from her eye to streak down the roundness of cheek and drip from her chin.
"By the Goddess…" rasped Gilbert, standing slack jawed beside Dimitri.
As deeply as she viewed, she could find no definitive shape in the blackness. It reminded her of being trapped in the dark dimension and the hopelessness that had pressed into her then sprang up within her anew. Her fingers twitched at the end of lifeless arms at her sides as she longed to hold herself, to guard against the deathly chill of nothingness. From far away, she heard Sylvain urging Dimitri to his feet and Gilbert's prayers on the wind. She could hear terror and hysteria in Dimitri's voice as he shouted, "It's like it was never there!"
Amidst the chaos happening beside her, she could suddenly hear something faint and familiar. It was a soft sound, indiscernible at first until she took a laborious step forward and then another. With each step, the racket from her companions faded and the sound before her clarified. Was it music? The next step she took began her descent down the other side of the hill.
Straining to hear, she quickened her pace and scanned the expanse before her as she went for the source of the sound. To the north, water from the sea rushed and roared over the edge of the world. To the south, the darkness continued along until she could see no further. Her speed increased, carried by the momentum of coming down the hill and driven on by a deep seeded need she could not understand. As she got closer, the sound should have gotten louder but the distance only served to diminish the voices behind her.
The hill, while steep, was hardly a mountain and the earth stopped several yards from the base of it. Byleth was closing the gap between herself and the edge swiftly, her gaze fixed inexplicably on a single spot within the inky void. She could not hear the sound over the rush in and out of her breath but she was certain it was enveloped in the void.
Voices called to her from the top of the foothill and annoyance flared within her at the disruption. She vaguely recognized her name, shouted several times in succession but the need to hear what the darkness had hidden, to learn the secret within it pushed her to run even faster, pumping her arms and legs furiously. She was so near to the edge that she could no longer see the pale winter grass in her lower periphery and the blackness seemed to open like the mouth of a cave before her.
Within that cave she knew the source of the music could be found and if she could just get inside of it. Someone's hands suddenly closed on her shoulders, gripping hard at her clothing and flesh causing her to stumble. A forceful twist and the weight of another body colliding against her threw her off balance completely and she tipped forward, her face hurtling toward the ground and her legs back to kick up behind her.
Her assailant hit the ground first, having nearly catapulted over her head as her feet left the ground but they held tightly to her and rolled beneath her as her face twisted skyward. Limbs arched awkwardly as the momentum she'd gained carried the two tangled bodies within inches of the edge. Byleth's shoulders were knocked free of her pursuer's grip as she skidded on her stomach up to and over the edge. The red earth beneath the grass running down into the abyss was sheer, smooth as though cauterized by rending. There was nowhere for her scrambling feet to catch hold and as self-preservation kicked in, she clawed at the weak grasses to save her from being enveloped by the void.
Her fingers tore the fragile blades from the dried winter earth as quickly as she grasped it. She cried out as her stomach dropped in anticipation of the plummet into darkness but her fall was stopped abruptly by a hand clamping down on her wrist painfully. Gravel and bits of dirt showered down around her as her savior skidded to a stop at the edge of the drop down.
The second hand clutched through the cloak at her shoulder but couldn't leverage enough to lift her. Swinging wildly, she twisted to look up and away from the impenetrable darkness to find the familiar face of the blue-haired young lord straining to keep a hold of her. Felix gritted his teeth and tightened his grip, focused on the task of steadying her.
"Stop moving, you idiot!" he growled through clenched teeth.
For what seemed like an eternity, she dangled there, supported by the young swords-man. The pitch pressed heavily in around her, stifling her breath and the bones in her wrist felt as though they would crack apart like kindling. Then a second blessed rain of dirt fell over the edge as someone one joined Felix.
"Don't just look at it. Help me!" he demanded and she saw his face twist with the effort of holding her.
Dimitri's golden head appeared over the edge and he extended his hand down to her, calling her name urgently. Seeing him was like a gasp of air after being underwater for too long and she forgot all about the song in the void. Fear and the madness of the emptiness pressing in screamed within her, she needed to put distance between herself and the darkness through any means. But the moment she moved to clasp at his arm Felix grunted. "Careful! Don't swing!"
Taking a breath to calm herself, she carefully raised her other arm toward Dimitri's outstretched hand. "That's it," he coaxed, keeping his gaze steadily on her face. He smiled reassuringly and she focused on him as she moved with painstaking slowness. "Keep going."
As she brushed against his fingertips a voice rang out from deep within the void. It was high, clear and melodic. Byleth gasped and turned her head to look over her shoulder, completely forgetting about the two men straining to reach her. She could hear the song. Three notes, falling down the scale and then stopping before beginning again. It was soothing, hypnotic and begging her to follow it.
The masculine shouting behind and above her sounded vulgar and harsh when compared to such a heavenly sound. She longed to draw nearer to that lovely song and tried to turn her body fully toward it but more hands closed on her arm and opposite shoulder. She was hauled roughly up into the thin midday sunlight.
Dimitri's arms closed around her as she emerged and pulled her against his chest tightly, carrying her with him as he fell back. The cold of his armor stung against her skin but she clung to him regardless as they landed in a heap. Dimitri kicked back, scooting as far as possible from the edge without loosening his arms around her. All strength seemed to have left her limbs and she allowed him to drag her along. The sound of his relieved breath drowned out what remained of the distant melody.
The sunlight stung her eyes and she blinked as they adjusted. Everyone was silent and the weight of what had happened pressed down on them. Beside and behind Dimitri, she saw Felix scowling and rubbing his shoulder with his back pointedly to the abyss. Sylvain lay on his back, arms and legs stretched out, his chest heaving. Gilbert, looking pale, kneeled beside Sylvain with his forearms folded and supported on his knee. He too was out of breath but contained his exhaustion and kept his gaze downward. Had it taken all of them to pull her up?
Finally, Gilbert spoke in a shaky voice, "Are you harmed, your Majesty?"
She shook her head until she could find her voice. "No."
"You idiot!" shouted Felix furiously aiming a kick at Sylvain's side. "You didn't tell them not to look into it did you?!"
Sylvain rolled to the side though the kick itself had not been intended to land. "They needed to see it, Felix. What was I supposed to do? I didn't know she'd take off running at it!"
"You should have warned them…"
"This has happened before?" interrupted Gilbert.
"Yes," answered Felix hotly.
"Not like this," insisted Sylvain just as shortly and beginning to climb to his feet.
"Where did you come from, Felix?" asked Dimitri, having recovered his voice. He still clung to her as though she'd be swept away by the wind.
Felix stared at him as though he'd grown two heads. "The guard tower, right there."
Just as he said, several feet away was a guard tower. Likely it was the same guard tower Jenson had been stationed at when it happened. Somehow, even standing atop the crest of the foothill, none of them had noticed the guard tower that stood tall and looming before the Edge of the World, as it would soon be called.
After a moment, Felix snorted disdainfully and shook his head again. "You have to be kidding me. None of you noticed it, did you?"
"Regardless," interrupted Dimitri. "We've seen it. Let's resume this discussion at a safe distance."
Byleth denied that her legs still trembled as she scaled the foothill alongside Dimitri with Gilbert trailing close behind them. No doubt he was posited this way to intercept her should the urge to throw herself into the darkness take hold again. She could still hear the repetitive melody calling to her, begging her to return but Byleth gritted her teeth against the impulse and plodded onward.
Once they were safely over the crest, it took only a few questions to prompt her to share what had happened. It was evident on the faces of her companions that they had expected more than she could tell.
"Let me get this straight," said Felix, crossing his arms and settling skeptical golden eyes on her. "You heard something, you can't say what, and needed to find it so badly that you'd run head-long into an infernally dark abyss?"
Even as she'd tried to explain it to them, the story sounded ridiculous and now, hearing it repeated back she couldn't blame Felix for his tone. She nodded wordlessly. Felix and Sylvain exchanged glances but made no move to elaborate on their thoughts.
"You said this had happened before. Did the others behave in the same way?" inquired Gilbert when it was clear the border lords had no intention of being forthcoming.
Felix shook his head, throwing his arms down dismissively.
"Yes and no," ventured Sylvain. "Some soldiers, after looking into it, would walk over the edge like they'd been hypnotized or something. We lost three this way. That's when we moved everyone back."
"But no one running like a fool over the edge like this!"
"We get it, Felix," warned Dimitri, stepping protectively nearer to her.
Felix exhaled in frustration and turned to walk a few paces away from the group as Sylvain continued.
"After we'd pulled the others away from the edge, they would clear up but only enough to be shepherded further away. The Professor here is the only one I know of that fully regained her senses."
Gilbert cleared his throat and Sylvain raised his hands apologetically. "Sorry. Her Majesty, here."
Dimitri raised a hand to support his chin as he thought. "Curious. Did any of the others say anything about music?"
"No," came Felix's wry reply from the side. "Just gibberish. Incomprehensible."
"I need to see them." All eyes shifted to fix on her as though they'd forgotten she was there. "Where are they?"
"They're being treated in the barracks at Castle Gautier," said Sylvain slowly as though he were unsure whether he should be sharing this information or not.
"Take me to them."
Sylvain's eyebrows rose and he looked for a moment as though he were going to protest but thought better of it. "Whatever you say, your Majesty."
The sun would be fully set soon and the party from Fhirdiad did not need to be reminded that staying after sunset was inadvisable. They would ride to Castle Gautier where Dimitri would meet with the border lords and Byleth those that could be recovered from the void. As they mounted and prepared to depart, Byleth guided her mare nearer to Felix who scrutinized her until she was close enough to speak.
"I want to thank you," she began but he stopped her before she could continue.
"Don't mention it." His tone was less than gracious and she was reminded how little stock he put in praise and thanks.
"Still," came Dimitri's voice from behind her. He must have followed her example now that their minds had cleared. "We owe you a great debt."
"You owe me nothing," he replied sourly, guiding his horse to the side with a sharp pull of the reign. "Just figure out what is going on and try to avoid falling into holes." He nudged his mount ahead and that was the end of the conversation.
When Byleth looked over to him, Dimitri was still watching his friend ride ahead. He let out a long-suffering sigh then noticed her watching. He smiled. "I don't suppose you remember anything about Lord Gautier?"
As expected, she could recall nothing about Sylvain's father.
His chuckle was soft and mirthless. "Lord Philipe Jose Gautier is exactly what you would expect of a man who would disinherit his first-born son over the lack of a crest but he and his family have protected our northern border since before my father's time. He believes in the old ways and puts great value in ceremony. There's a whole ritual to entering the gates of the castle."
She tilted her head to the side, imagining what such a ritual would look like. This expression seemed to warm him and this chuckle sounded more smitten than before.
"You'll just have to wait and see," he added as he reigned his horse about to join the others in formation.
They departed quickly, following the foothills to the north. Dimitri once again set a hard pace and they made good time. The party passed under the gates into Castle Gautier's main courtyard before the first stars began to show above. Much like all the castles in Faerghus, Castle Gautier was more like a fort than a castle as one might expect. There was little in the way of ornamentation and the outer walls appeared to be sheer. They were, no doubt, impossible to scale. Once inside the walls, simple architecture remained the predominant style.
The square courtyard was surrounded by more high, sheer walls and one could only advance by scaling a wide stone staircase opposite the gate. Their party, small as it was, had to position their horses so closely that dismounting became a challenge. Despite its simplicity, the courtyard was immaculate. The stone covering the ground was so well polished that it reflected the light of the torches as they were lit and mounted in the walls by soldiers, some hardly old enough to carry a sword.
Above them, at the top of the stairs stood two great-lords, their faces obscured by the failing light. One, she could place as Rodrigue, the shield of Faerghus and Felix's father by the dark facial hair on his fair skinned face. She'd met him before and was pleased to see that at least some things hadn't changed too drastically. The other was broad, shorter than Fraldarius, but his shape was obscured by a thick cloak lined in excessive fur. It was difficult to make out more about him without standing closer. Comparatively, where Fraldarius seemed flexible, Gautier appeared stout and immoveable.
Sylvian emerged from behind them, sliding between horses, and stepped in front of Dimitri. Byleth thought she saw a grimace on his lips as he raised his voice to address his father.
"My Lord, my father. Your son has returned and seeks to once again pass through your gates."
"My son and heir, bearer of the Crest of Gautier, name those that accompany you and do seek passage through the gate."
Sylvain's sigh was so brief that many might have missed it. She suddenly understood his intense dislike for formality and ritual. "The King, Dimitri Alexandre Blayddid, seeks passage. With him, the Queen Consort, Captain of the Guard and the Blue Lion Lance Corps seek passage. Felix Hugo Fraldarius, son of Lord Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius, seeks passage also. "
"Are there any among you who you have not named?"
"By my Crest and my King, none."
"I, Margrave Phillipe Jose Gautier, defender of the northern border, grant you and all that you have named passage through this gate."
Sylvain made no attempt to mask the next, long suffering sigh that passed his lips once the ceremony was complete. Giving a shake of his shaggy head and a wry smile he looked to Byleth. "Looks like we can come in now." The dry sarcasm in his tone was not lost on her.
"Stop sulking," said Felix, appearing beside Dimitri. "Let's go."
Offering her his arm, Dimitri chuckled, "Do you see what I mean? The Margrave is enamored with tradition and ceremony."
She took his arm and the pair proceeded up the stairs with Gilbert behind then Sylvain and Felix. "Is there anything else that I should know?"
"Don't let his standoffishness throw you off balance. I am the King and you are the Queen Consort and the bearer of the Crest of Flames. The only thing the Margrave values more than tradition is power. Very few crests are more revered than ours."
They alighted the stairs and atop the landing, Byleth got her first good look at the Margrave. He was surprisingly short, almost head and shoulders shorter than Dimitri and his son. She could look him directly in the eye without raising her chin but he was stout, nearly twice her own width. He stood before them, proud and immovable, scrutinizing them each in turn as though deciding whether to allow them through the door or not. It was unnerving to be evaluated in such a way but she dared not shift her weight or look around lest it be perceived as weakness.
After what felt like an eternity of silent evaluation and stillness he spoke again in a voice that rumbled in his barrel-like chest. "By my leave, pass through the gates and enter my protection." With this announcement, he stepped aside and, following Dimitri's lead, they stepped over the threshold into Castle Gautier.