True to his word, they rode hard through the remainder of the day and into the night with hardly a stop along the way. Byleth remained focused on the reason for this push, the gnawing fear of the abyss and its supposed expansion, as she began to notice sweat glistening on her mare's neck. She shoved aside her father's advice to always care for your animal along with the guilt and leaned forward to murmur soft words of encouragement along with an apology.

It was well past midnight when they burst from the cover of trees into a clearing where the main road split off toward Murthorn. A single lantern squeaked from a hook protruding from the wooden scaffolding of a lone watchtower like a finger and cast a swaying ball of light across the dusty road below. The village beyond was barely visible for the thick fog that shrouded it. She could just make out the peaked roofs of homes piercing the gloom, jutting up like jagged teeth or the horns of a demonic beast laying in wait.

They slowed their mounts but the wind continued to whip past her face and tangle in her hair as it had when they were at a full gallop. Without a break of spindly trees to stop it, it filled the naked clearing then roared past her in what felt like an intentional rush before continuing on into the night. Silence settled into the clearing in the absence of the wind and Byleth could just make out the sound of water. Beyond the watchtower there must be a stream.

She dismounted and urged her mare onward. "There's water ahead." She dismounted and urged her mare onward. Byleth tugged on the reins. The tufted ears hung low and her hoof falls were heavy with exhaustion as if the sudden rest made it impossible to summon strength for the last leg. "Just a few more yards."

At last they reached the stream of lazy water, wider than it was deep but as her mare slowed and bowed its head, it did not drink. Byleth hastily removed the saddle and plunged the blanket into the cold water. With the sopping cloth she began to scrape the sweat away. The rubdown would have been more effective with the proper tools but she did her best despite the stiff ache in her arms from the ride and effort.

Dimitri and Dedue were of the same mind and she saw them following close behind. A slurping sound pulled her attention back. Thank the goddess; her mare was drinking though it did little to assuage the guilt she felt for riding the beast to the brink of death.

No sooner had Dimitri unbuckled the girth to remove the saddle than Dedue began to dismount. But where he should have stepped quietly on the grass, he groaned and crumbled to the ground. She and Dimitri darted around their horses and found him on hands and knees making a wobbly attempt to get to his feet.

"Don't try to stand yet," Byleth said, stepping closer. She knelt in front of him to examine his face.

"What happened?" Dimitri steadied him back to sit on the ground.

"I became dizzy..." Dedue's hand trembled as he touched his forehead. "I must not be feeling well."

"Of course. You must be exhausted," said Dimitri, giving Dedue's shoulder an encouraging slap. "You had only just arrived in Fhirdiad and then we rode out again."

"It is embarrassing," said Dedue.

"No need to be embarrassed." Byleth removed a small vial from a pouch on her belt. "Even the best of us have to have food and rest or this is what happens."

"It feels like one of your old lectures, your majesty." He took the vial and moments after drinking the amber-colored tincture he steadied himself. A tincture, even mixed by the royal apothecary, would only strengthen him for a short time; he would still need the attention of a healer if he meant to continue on to Garreg Mach.

Dimitri nodded and stood. "Then I will find both a healer and someone to sell us their horses."

"I'll stay here with Dedue."

He studied her face for a moment, seeming to evaluate whether he should leave her or not.

"I won't be gone long," he said at last.

Byleth watched as Dimitri crossed the bridge toward Murthorn. The light from the watchtower lamp captured his shadow, hulking and monstrous against the wall of fog before he disappeared into its billowing depths. His shadow was gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving her to doubt that she had seen it at all.

The horses were drinking from the stream when Byleth returned to retrieve a cloth parcel of food from her saddlebag and Dedue was noticeably better by the time she sat down next to him. When she offered him half of her loaf of bread he waved it away but she persisted. "You have to eat, even if it's a few bites."

Reluctantly, he took it and they ate in silence, watching the fog rolling and folding in on itself like smoke in a jar.

"There is no wind," he mused, almost to himself.

She glanced around and over her shoulder to the watchtower behind. The lantern had stopped swinging. She gave him a quizzical look and he nodded his forehead toward the town. "How is the fog moving like that if there is no wind?"

Thankfully, the sound of boots on the bridge broke the dark thoughts that this observation brought. A disembodied light floating through the fog caught her attention and in the breath between fear and flight, the light revealed itself as belonging to a lantern. The short, balding man carrying it scurried beside the much taller King of Faerghus. The sash across his chest named him the mayor but beyond that his attire was in rushed disarray; unlaced boots and undershirt and the tuft of remaining hair on his head standing at attention.

He struggled to keep up, taking three steps for every one of Dimitri's, all the while addressing the mixed procession of men trailing behind him. They might be the town counsel, all startled out of sleep to dress as quickly as possible to attend the King.

"Seems the whole village has come," said Dedue getting shakily to his feet.

Byleth glanced across the steam just as a group of bobbing lights materialized through the gloom. Dedue was right, the opposite bank was lined with villagers hoping to catch a glimpse of the King. Their lanterns and candles seemed to pulse behind the curtain of gloom and they were quiet; muted like they thought a sound might frighten the royal party away.

The people crossing the bridge were easier to see when their lanterns' glow pushed back the darkness. Behind the gaggle of men followed three stable lads and the stable master with a cart laden with supplies for the horses they would leave behind. Behind them a trio of white-clad individuals whose pristine clothing glowed with an unnamable reverence in the darkness of the night.

A young girl walked alongside an old woman bringing to mind the maiden that walks beside the crone. If they were the child and the crone then the maiden was behind them. They were tall and graceful in their stride; they reminded her of a reed in the breeze. They moved with an easy serenity that seemed out of place for a farming village.

"We certainly wouldn't have horses that are suitable for your Majesties," the mayor was saying. "It wouldn't do for us to send you along with lowly work horses. They would be unworthy to carry your Graces."

The light from the torches burst across the clearing, chasing away the shadows. Byleth felt silly for the relief that filled her but at least she could breathe easier and in the better light she could see the Murthorners more clearly. With great curiosity she studied the mysterious people in white as they approached.

They were just as mysterious in the new light as they were crossing the bridge. She could see that the girl was quite young, perhaps ten or eleven years of age, and she supported or guided the elderly woman even though the crone's steps were strong and confident. Squinting, she studied the woman's face. The girl's purpose became clear when Byleth saw the milky white of the old woman's eyes; she was blind.

The voices of the mayor and her husband grew louder, dragging her attention away from the strange woman and her younger companions.

"This is my wife, the Queen of Faerghus and my retainer." Dimitri sounded like his patience was stretched to the breaking point.

"Your most gracious Majesty!" The mayor made an unnecessarily low bow with a whirling wrist and bend of the knees, somehow combining a bow and curtsey and the others echoed his sentiment. "The honor of your presence and grandeur is too radiant for our humble village."

Her eyes darted to Dimitri's hoping for a sign of what she should do with this display. He met her with a wry expression and a faint shake of the head.. "Rise. Please."

"Of course, my Sovereign!" the major exclaimed and shot up with the speed of someone much younger.

"Where are the horses?" asked Dedue.

"There will be no need! We have brought something, someone much better. I was just telling His Royal Highness…"

"I admit," Dimitri cut in. "I have never heard of a healer for animals and humans. I imagine that the discipline would be similar?"

"You are correct, your Majesty," replied a soft, clear voice that could only belong to the graceful youth that accompanied the woman and girl. The semicircle of townsfolk before them parted, allowing the trio a clear path forward. "It shares the same foundational principles as the magic used to treat humans."

"It is our honor to heal you and your horses," said the girl.

The old woman gave a slight nod of her head in agreement. The torch light shone in her silver hair, pulled tight into a thick braid that hung over her shoulder. A chill scurried up Byleth's arms as she watched them. As impossible as it seemed, she should not shake the feeling that the woman, though blind, was examining her and not in a friendly way.

"Indeed." The soothing voice freed her from the old woman's attention. "My name is Samuel. I am an apprentice to Mother Gerta."

Samuel floated over the grass to present themselves to the King. Their bow was as graceful as their step. "Your Majesty, if you will permit, I am ready to relieve you of your weariness."

Dimitri shook his head. "I am not in urgent need, Samuel. Please tend to my retainer first."

When Samuel rose from their bow there was a small, pleased smile on his lips as though they were unexpectedly impressed at the King's direction. Without another word, they stepped lightly to stand in front of Dedue.

"Thank you but it is just exhaustion, there is no need to…"

"I am going to touch your temples," Samuel said with a hint of amusement. Their tone, while gentle, indicated that they would hear no further complaints.

Samuel placed their fingertips lightly on Dedue's temples and their eyes fluttered shut. There was no outward indication that a spell was cast; no wheel of light or golden aura surrounding the healer and the patient. Were they being duped by a trio of performers? Dimitri's doubts were plain on his face as he crossed his arms but he remained quiet.

Looking closely, Byleth saw that their lips were moving and if she held her breath she could just make a faint drone of words she did not recognize. In no time at all, Dedue suddenly inhaled deeply, his chest lifting with the breath that filled his lungs and when he opened his eyes he seemed like a new man or a well rested man at least.

Samuel removed their fingers from Dedue's head and bowed as they stepped back.

"Remarkable," breathed Dimitri. His arms were no longer crossed at his chest. "How do you feel, Dedue?"

"Well enough to get into the saddle again. Thank you Samuel."

"It's my honor," was the soft spoken reply. Next they turned to Byleth but she too waved them away.

"Please care for the horses. They are suffering."

Mother Gerta made an approving grunt and at a nod of her head Samuel's smile widened. With a bob of their head and hand to his chest, Samuel turned on their heels to approach the horses. Positioned in front of Dedue's mount, they took the horse's head in their hands. It looked to Byleth that the animal raised its own head, recognizing someone who could help.

"He is very tired but not hurt. He very much wants to continue the journey."

Byleth arched a brow. Was she to believe that in addition to healing they could also speak to animals? Much like before, they closed their eyes and began to murmur softly. With no outward show of magic, she wasn't sure how they could tell if it worked. They couldn't very well ask the horse how it felt.

Dedue's horse suddenly stamped his feet, flattened his ears and gave a shake of his head. Samuel opened their eyes and placed a gentle hand on the horse's nose, Samuel then stepped back and the horse straightened. A shake of his mane and several impatient stamps were all the evidence Byleth needed that they had, in fact, healed the horse of its exertion and fatigue.

The stable boys rushed in to care for the first horse while Samuel healed the next. It went like this until all three horses' tails were perked and the sound of their hooves on dirt expressed their eagerness to be on their way.

"Amazing," said Dimitri.

"The art of healing animals is an old magic and long remembered in the villages about Fodlan," said the girl. "It is unlike the church's faith based practices, which have their merits, but there is deep magic within the earth herself."

The words could have been said by someone twenty years her senior. Byleth looked from the enigmatic girl back to the healer who had moved on from the horses and now stood before Dimitri.

After a respectful bowed head, Samuel stepped forward to set their fingers on his temples. Dimitri had to lean down so they could reach his head without stretching. Byleth craned her neck to get a better look, her curiosity getting the better of her manners. Dimitri shivered or rather, vibrated so subtly that if she weren't so near she would have missed it. Without further comment, Dimitri straightened and Samuel withdrew their hands.

"Simply amazing!" He bounced on the balls of his feet to test his vigor. A pleased smile spread across his face. "I am sincerely grateful."

Hand to heart, Samuel bowed and turned to Byleth. She was suddenly nervous; unsure if she should lean forward or kneel or what would be most appropriate for this exchange. Before she could make up her mind Samuel stood before her with a soft smile in their eyes.

"Please be still, your Majesty."

Feeling sheepish, she nodded and shut her eyes as they reached forward to touch her.

"Stop!"

Like the bleat of a terrified animal, the shout bowled through the reverent silence in the clearing. That single word carried with it a command and a fearful plea that made Byleth's blood run like ice in her veins.

"Don't touch her!"

Samuel spun around in alarm as Byleth's eyes sprang open. Mother Gerta was straining against the support of the young girl. Her aged face was no longer serene but distorted with fear; her mouth frozen around the shout she had mustered and the arm not supported by the girl extended out in a desperate clawing at the air, her bony fingers still groped the space before her as she searched for her apprentice.

"Mother?" the timbre of Samuel's voice was suddenly so small; surprise having trapped it in their throat so that Gerta did not hear them.

"Step away!" She wheezed, her foggy eyes wide and rolling as she searched for his presence. Her voice broke, dissolving into a dry cough that shook her frail body but still she spoke. "Do not touch her!"

Samuel rushed to her side, the crystalline quality to their voice had shattered into heightened alarm. He knelt so quickly that he might have skidded to a stop before her and took firm hold of her hand. Gerta's relief was short-lived. Her spine seemed to straighten as she bristled and those milky white eyes somehow found Byleth's face. What had begun as alarm and concern was replaced with a rippling cold in Byleth's bones as their eyes met.

"What is the meaning of this?" Dimitri turned to the mayor who stood frozen in shock and disbelief.

At Dimitri's question he jumped and Byleth could have sworn she saw sweat spring onto his forehead. "I do not know my, Your Majesty," he spluttered. "I have never known this to happen…"

"She cannot, must not… You cannot…" Gerta's voice lowered as Samuel moved her face gently toward them but the old woman's sightless eyes remained trained on Byleth.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mother! You must be confused. Go, lad! You cannot stop now you must..." the Mayor's voice had pitched high, panicked as he wrung his hands and looked from the towering King to the trio in white.

Byleth wanted to look away, to look at anything else but she felt compelled to hold the woman's eyes. The mayor's orders and nervous laughter faded to buzz in the background as Byleth looked on until all she could hear was the rush of her own rapid breath. Even beneath her winter clothing she shivered not unlike an animal trapped in the eyes of a serpent. Fragile though she was, Gerta's ferocious authority exuded forth and Byleth soon discovered that she was the one who had become afraid.

Samuel ignored the mayor entirely and placed Mother Gerta's other hand on the top of their head, kneeling in front of her as if to draw her back from some unknown terror. As they spoke to her she reluctantly shifted her attention to them.

"Enough."

Byleth jumped at the sudden sound and found the mayor still wringing his hands and looking everywhere but at the King. Now free from the hypnotic eyes of Mother Gerta, Byleth could see her clearly, small and bent under the weight of age and speaking softly to her apprentice. They conversed and the girl steadied resumed her post at Mother Gerta's side.

At last, Samuel stood. They strode toward Byleth with their eyes downcast and they stopped several paces away from her. Dimitri watched them with half lidded eyes and Byleth's stomach tightened at the sight of his jaw muscles working.

"Your Majesty," they said softly. "Mother believes that this will heal you sufficiently so that you may complete your journey." They reached into a small satchel at their belt and removed a small glass vial. He held out the vial for her to take.

"Wait." Dimitri's voice was low and gruff. Byleth wet her lips and looked from the willowy healer to the large man in gleaming armor. "She is the Queen of Faerghus. For what reason shouldn't you touch her?"

His eyes burned down at Samuel. Byleth had seen larger men tremble under that gaze but Samuel turned to face him with the same soft expression, and unshakable serenity that they had arrived with. Samuel tilted their head up to look calmly into the King's eyes.

"Mother Gerta does not reveal all of her wisdom to me. She simply says and I obey." They were stating the fact as blandly as someone stating that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west.

Dimitri's eyes narrowed as he considered the youth before him and even the air stilled beneath his gaze. Danger coursed electric around her; the hair on the back of Byleth's neck stood on end. It would take very little, a breath out of place to confirm the insult tip him over the edge.

"Thank you," she quickly snatched the vial out of Samuel's hand. The bottle fit into the palm of her hand, its contents so thick that it coated the walls of the container. This was no tincture.

"It is potent, your Majesty, I assure you," said Samuel as though they read what she was thinking. "You will feel as well as your companions, I assure you."

She promptly uncorked the vial before Dimitri could object or demand further explanation and drank. The mixture was thick and she schooled her face to stillness through the urge to gag. The taste was worsened by the texture; it left a slimy trail across her tongue as it gobbed down her throat. It took two swallows to keep it down. She shivered reflexibily when it hit her stomach.

"Beloved?" Dimitri stepped nearer and lowered his voice. "Are you…" She nodded that she was fine and the tension in the clearing dissolved instantly. Dimitri turned to Samuel and inclined his head. "Thank you."

She watched Samuel as they rejoined Mother Gerta and the strange girl beside her. Even as Samuel touched her hand Mother Gerta's scrutinizing gaze captured Byleth once again. Her sightless eyes remained hawklike, daring Byleth to approach. Byleth felt suddenly alone, isolated within the woman's eyes and even though she could hear Dimitri speaking with the mayor and town counsel and Dedue directing the stableboys in preparing the horses she was far away from them in another identical clearing.

Steeling her will, Byleth tore her eyes away and as she did she caught sight of the townsfolk gathered on the other side of the river. They had been so quiet that she'd forgotten about them. The fog had returned to settle over the still congregation of people, capturing the light from their torches and lanterns and holding back behind its thick curtain. The glowing points of light illuminated their faces irregularly, revealing shadowed cheeks, sallow skin and glinting eyes. They, just like Mother Gerta, were watching her with an intensity she did not understand.

She could hear her pulse in her ears again and she shifted uncomfortably looking from the villagers to Mother Gerta; each eye named her unnatural and unwelcome. A creeping sense of alarm took hold of her, urging her to flee, warning her that if she stayed a moment longer, something unimaginable and terrifying awaited her.

"My rentinue is half a day behind, notify them that we have proceeded to Garreg Mach."

Dimitrii brushed past her, catching her eye and freeing her from the snare of unblinking eyes. Byleth quickly fell into step with him and the mayor.

"Of course, your Excellency."

Their horses were as fit as they'd been when they left Fhirdiad and full of restless energy; stamping impatiently when reigned in. Dimitri addressed those at the bridge from horseback, a brief but courteous thank you, then he urged his mount down the small path they had come by; trotting beneath the lantern that hung swinging from the lonely watchtower.

Dedue and Byleth matched his pace but the unmistakable sensation of eyes watching her clawed at her attention. She did not want to look back but the unrelenting siren's call demanded it and she cast one final look over her shoulder.

Fog coiled around the village, shrouding the houses and the bridge from view, much as it had when they arrived but now as she looked the countless glittering eyes looked back. She knew that they saw her, that each and every set of eyes perceived her and her fear welled up to leak from her eyes. Her stomach churned as terror laced through her body and she was once again frozen in place. Her mare, sensing something amiss took off at an urgent gallop and soon she was safely hidden from those eyes in the depths of the trees.

The dark sky vanished behind a canopy of thick leaves as they crossed into the woods that circled the Oghma Mountain Range. The road was well maintained and worn so that even in the darkness they could follow it with little trouble. This allowed them to hold their pace, their way lit by slashes of moonlight that forced their way between gaps of the leaves.

Just as the thunder of hooves on dirt began to settle in like the soothing sound of waves on the shore, a far off rumbling sound like a rock slide pulled her upright and sent her eyes skyward. They each straightened in their saddles, craning their necks as if they could see past the

Cover of the trees.

"Is that thunder?" shouted Dedue.

It was a hopeless question that did not expect an answer. They urged their horses on, knowing full well that the sound was not thunder. If the quakes were indeed the abyss pushing inland and they could hear the earth succumbing to it this far from the edge… Byleth shook her head. The thought that came next was unbearable. No. They would make it to Garreg Mach and the Archbishop would have answers. She held tightly to these hopes because without them, the alternative would give way to despair.

They emerged from the trees just as the sun was creeping up behind them, bathing the village and towering monastery in fresh light. It felt like waking from a dream. They had traversed half the continent in the span of nearly twenty four hours on horseback. Even for the most seasoned soldiers this was a superhuman feat. The jolt of galloping hooves beneath her set her head throbbing in time and her legs had surpassed the burning of exertion into numbness.

As the village at the base of the mountain came into clear view, she noticed a scattering of tents and wagons in the grassy fields on either side of the road. Cook fires were being lit and it looked like the occupants were just waking for the day.

"The Millennium Festival," she thought. Pilgrims would have come from all over Fodlan for this. Perhaps the timing was a boon; so many had traveled to the center of the continent and were safe from the edge. For now at least. A pack of children chased a ball along the side of the road and a mother somewhere called out that breakfast was ready. "They must not know what is happening."

The pilgrim's tents and wagons became more numerous as they approached the open gates to the village at the base of the mountain. They clustered together so densely that they had to slow their horses. Despite the early hour, people bustled to and fro with goods for breakfast or supplies for their stay during this holy month.

"Messages went out by bird when we left Fhirdiad. We should be expected." Dimitri looked as exhausted as he sounded. He was right, they were expected and no sooner had the guards spotted them than a messenger boy dashed away, dodging people on the streets in his rush up to the monastery.

"I remember an inn off the main thoroughfare," said Dedue presently. "Though with so many here for the festival I doubt they have rooms."

Dimitri removed a pouch from his saddle bag that clinked as he tossed it to Dedue. "Pay them as much as it takes to secure two rooms," he said. "And show them this," he removed a signet ring from his right hand. "You should have no trouble."

"Shall I meet you at the monastery?"

"As soon as you are able."

An odd sense of coming home settled in her chest as they walked side by side toward the monastery. The sounds and smells in the village were familiar; even the feel of the road beneath her boots was familiar despite the faces she did not recognize. Shopkeepers placed their goods meticulously in stalls with bright colored awnings; fruits and vegetables, weapons and jewelry. The sound of bellows warming forges for metalworking and the smell of fresh baked bread were ordinary and comforting. How strange to think that she lived here for such a short time but it felt as much like home as she could remember.

The road began to rise with the incline carved into the mountain. Turning back, she could see the village laid out before her and the fields full of tents and wagons beyond. The sun climbed steadily upward as if nothing unnatural was occurring on the earth below it. She wondered, if the worst came to pass, would the sun miss the people that used to greet it each day or would it continue on unaffected and uncaring as it had from the beginning of time.

"They say if you stare at the sun, you'll lose your eyesight."

Byleth blinked, and turned to find Dimitri smiling at her. She rubbed her eyes and a loud yawn burst out of her. "I've been meaning to ask," she managed when the yawn had subsided. "Have I been spending the last year lounging around like some lady?"

He looked amused. "Like some lady?"

She leveled a look at him. "You know what I mean. Have I been getting soft?"

They walked in silence for a moment as he thought. "Before I left for Duscar, you tried to spend some time 'loafing and lounging' as you called it but it didn't suit you. You detailed in your letters how you were spending time in the training yard with Gilbert and the castle guard. There were a lot of complaints about un-queenly behavior, mostly from Margaret, but that was not enough to stop you."

Byleth frowned. If she'd maintained her training regime as he said, why was she so exhausted? Even after a strenuous, cross-continental ride, she should be more stiff than in lingering pain. Even now, after some time out of the saddle, her legs tingled uncomfortably like they did when they fell asleep. She winced as she wiggled her toes in her boots and twisted to stretch her back.

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm feeling… I don't know. Stiff? More than I should after a ride like that."

His smile was doting and his hands were warm when he took hers. "Do not forget that you have undergone exceptional strain. Not much is known about the effects of an interrupted warp spell." Taking her chin in his fingers, he raised her face. "Be patient with yourself, beloved."

"You're right," she admitted begrudgingly. He leaned forward to catch her lips for a brief moment then brushed a strand of her hair from her cheek.

"Once we've seen the Archbishop, a warm bath and a soft bed will set you right."

"That does sound nice," she admitted.

"I know how to take care of you, even if you don't remember that I do."

"Professor!"

The familiar voice pulled her away from the allure of his lips. Coming down the road at an energetic pace was another of her former students. Flayn hadn't changed in the slightest from her thick, curl of green hair tumbling over her shoulders to the black and gold officer's academy uniform. Her face still held the youthful roundness of someone still close to their childhood years and her eyes retained that indiscernible air of curiosity and secret amusement.

"I am very happy to see you both, even if the circumstances are not ideal. I volunteered to fetch you when we learned you had arrived."

"It is good to see you, Flayn," said Dimitri.

Flayn beamed up at them and her fingers laced together beneath her chin. "I wish that I had time to hear about your time in Fhirdiad but Lady Rhea has asked that I bring you to her right away. She and the others are waiting for you in the audience chamber."

"Please lead the way. We have urgent news to discuss with her."

Flayn nodded solemnly and turned on her heels to lead them up the stone paved walkway and into the monastery proper.

Where the faces of people gathered in the town below and fields beyond had been happily oblivious to the occurrences at Fodlan's boundaries, the faces of those in the grand hall were tense and fearful. Servants and soldiers alike looked grim and strained all while standing guard, going about their chores or bearing messages. The complete and utter silence made the sounds of foot falls unnaturally loud. The business of a regular day continued though the people going through the motions were well aware of its futility.

"We've received accounts of what is happening from the other heads of state. You are the last to arrive and we have been waiting anxiously to speak with you."

"Who has arrived before us?" Byleth asked as they crossed into the sunlit courtyards.

"Emperor von Aegir arrived yesterday and Duke Reigan shortly after."

Byleth stopped abruptly. "Emperor Von Aegir?"

Flayn turned and cocked her head curiously to the side. "Yes. Emperor Ferdinand von Aegir. Why do you look confused, Professor? It can't be that you have forgotten. Ferdinand succeeded his father just last year and is the new emperor of Adrestia."

"We can tell the whole story when we see the Archbishop," said Dimitri, covering for Byleth's obvious surprise and urging Flayn to continue up the stairs.

It made sense if she stopped to consider it. Ferdinand's father had been, what was it, the minister of state? Ferdinand and his father had remained loyal to the church during Edelgard's uprising, perhaps securing their family's position as the Von Hresvelgs' successor. Byleth lowered her eyes to the stairs beneath her feet, rolling this new revelation around in her brain.

Before she had time to process it, they alighted the final stair and emerged into the holding room outside the Archbishop's formal audience chamber. She had expected a buzz of activity, as she remembered it from before but the chamber was silent as a tomb but not empty.

Standing along the far wall next to a window with sunlight streaming along strands of luxurious red hair was Ferdinand von Aiger. He lifted his eyes from whatever occupied his attention beyond the window pane to regard them but the exuberance she had expected to see was subdued. Once he might have greeted them with a grand flourish but today a slight inclination of his head was the extent of it. His demeanor was not at all what she remembered and it was concerning.

"You certainly have a way of keeping us waiting, Teach."

In the mouth of the corridor opposite the doors to the audience chamber, leaning casually with arms and ankles crossed was Claude, or rather Duke Reigan. He straightened as they drew near and the green eyes she remembered brimming with mischief settled on them with a ferocity that caught her off guard.

Dimitri matched his tone. "The Queen and I came as quickly as we could, Claude. I assure you."

"If you are here," said Byleth, looking between Claude and Ferdinand. "Does that mean that…"

Claude interrupted her, catching her gaze with brazen eyes. "I take it that Sreng is gone as is Almyra."

Byleth nodded yes. She turned to Ferdinand who was watching them with subdued interest. "And you?" she asked.

"The seas around Adrestia are gone. Swallowed into something that we can't see. Brigid is gone, and Petra with it." With that said, he turned back to gaze out the window at something or nothing at all.

"Rhea won't help until she's talked to all of us," said Claude before Byleth could fully comprehend the sorrow in Ferdinand's voice. "You should have been here yesterday."

Dimitri's eyes narrowed. "We are here now."

"Please do not delay," said Flayn, oblivious to the tensions she interrupted. "They are waiting for you inside."

Byleth took Dimitri's hand, wedging her fingers into his fist to loosen his grip. He tore his eyes away from Claude and offered her tight smile. While his presence was comforting, nerves still tingled in her legs and stomach. With a deep breath and a squeeze of Dimitri's hand they stepped through the doors to the audience chamber beyond.