My father sent me a message by owl asking to meet him for tea this afternoon.

After delivering the message to my dorm, the owl took a shit on the floor.

"-And so, after I decapitated that hedge knight, the village headman walked out, and he asked - and get this - if I was the apprentice of the Blade Breaker!"

The student that Lysithea mentioned last night named Leonie stormed into the office - uninvited - shortly after we poured the stiff Morifs brew. She claims to have smelled the pungency of the infused Albinean berries "a mile away". My father has been guzzling down the tea ever since, perhaps to avoid unnecessary conversation with his "apprentice".

It's hard to really take her in at present. Her eyes are darting back and forth with a great deal of intensity and excitement. Her head, topped by a flash of short, red hair, bobs around with the vim and vigor of a child - even though she's clearly a few years older than me.

I have difficulties reading people who I can't get a good focus on. I don't think I'll ever get a good read on this woman.

As she energetically rambles, I note that my father has a freshly furnished office. It's prime real estate across from Rhea's reception hall, nearby Hanneman and Manuela. A thought has only just occurred to me - namely, that I'm the only faculty member without an office at present. Even Jeritza, who just checked back into the Academy this morning, has a nook of his own in the training grounds. Students gossip that he spends prolonged periods talking to himself in there.

Perhaps this was Seteth's doing. Any time I encounter him on the campus, he spends prolonged periods glaring at me. When I was walking to the training grounds with Edelgard and the rest of the Eagles two days ago, he gave her a rather cutting glare as well.

Perhaps those two have a history. Or he may have finally gotten wind through the grapevine about the "socially compromised" evening we had, to use Hubert's term.

Leonie, after finishing her monologue, turns back to me.

"-Did Captain Jeralt ever tell you any stories about me, Professor?"

I don't realize that she's actually talking to me at first, but recover quickly.

"...Nope." I reply matter-of-factly.

"How about... Lieutenant Pinelli?" she prods.

I glance at my father and raise an eyebrow.

"Listen, Leonie- I've got a mission for you." My father says, catching the pass without missing a beat.

Leonie shoots up at attention in her chair.

"...I didn't get enough Alb berries for three people. Can you run down to the greenhouse and pick a few more? Just bag 'em and bring 'em while I put the pot back on a boil."

"Of course, Captain! You can rely on me!"

She storms out the door with a great deal of purpose. Is this little exchange evidence of my father being an inspiring leader, I wonder?

The two of us sit in silence until we can no longer hear her boots clacking down the stone staircase nearby.

"Sorry about that, kid."

I shrug.

"That summer before you joined I took a job in her neck of the woods. She was a pretty useful guide. Her father was a big-game hunter. Redwolves, Duscur Bears, that sort of thing. I was actually going to introduce you two before that situation in Remire."

What a terrible introduction that would have been.

"If you say so."

"Anyway… how's life? I was worried that the job of babysitting these noble brats might be getting to you." He asks.

"I'm alive." I reply noncommittally.

My father sighs and brings a hand to his head.

"Listen, kid - that girl's probably sprinting to the greenhouse, so let me just get to the point."

Realizing that he's gotten serious, I nod.

"Seteth, that green haired schoolmarm? He knows about that little field-trip you had a few nights back…"

I suppose it's only natural he'd figure out what we were getting up to eventually. Even with Gatekeeper covering our tracks, we weren't exactly inconspicuous.

"I know we used to do that kind of thing on the Throat. And… well, I'm not saying you have to live a cloistered life here. But the lower you lie, the faster I can get us out of here, if that's what you want."

I stare blankly at him.

Is that what I want, now?

Always a bit too perceptive for my own comfort, my father seems to have picked up on my indecision.

"...But now that I mention it, you don't seem as eager to cut bait."

I bring a hand to my chin and consider my next words carefully.

"As it stands… I'm willing to see through the term."

My father seems to receive my words with an equal amount of consideration.

"It looks like you've changed, huh?"

He's left me without a reply. I just shake my head.

"No… I really think you have."

He takes another long sip of tea.

"I'm guessing the Adrestian Princess has something to do with it."

My eyes fell away from him at that point. Does she?

"I remember the night… two years ago, I think - that Dagdan chick. She showed you that trick with the cocktail and the flower? Do you remember her?"

"Vaguely." I reply.

Even though that event wasn't particularly long ago, only the gesture she made really stuck with me. The girl herself seemed to fade blurrily into my memory.

I remember certain physical features. She had deep green eyes, like Ingrid - along with a similarly healthy appetite. She was my age or a touch older, like Dorothea and around her height. Two long, thin bangs down her head like Marianne, but they were braided quite tightly - reminiscent to Petra's in both style and color. The back of her hair reminded me of Lysithea's, falling in one great shock to nearly ankle length. Like Bernadetta, she was an archer.

But I cannot remember anything about her that isn't a composite in some way. There was nothing unique about her in my mind. Every aspect that I can recall is informed in some way by the students that I have met at Garegg Mach.

"She wanted to take you to bed that night. Did you even realize that?"

I shake my head.

"Of course not... And you… kid, it looked like you'd be totally fine with wringing her neck the very next moment. Like the whole damn gesture she was making just washed over you like… I had raised a sociopath or something like that… It hurt me to see it."

He gave me a look that he wasn't done yet. He took another long gulp of tea and cleared his throat.

"...You didn't know that girl died maybe a week after you blew her off, right?"

"I didn't."

"Some wyvern rider clipped her with a lance, right through the lung."

He brought his thumb to his clavicle to drive the point home. From the point that he indicated, the wound would've certainly been mortal - but death wouldn't have come instantly.

"I watched her die… And normally… you know I don't get choked up about death. I've seen too much of it. But I had a thought... as your father… that girl thought my kid was special. And then there she was, choking on her blood. She was looking at you when she died. And there you were, ten yards away maybe. You couldn't give a shit. You were gouging the eyes out of a myrmidon like some fucking animal."

We both sat there in silence for a time.

"...Anyway… I saw Princess trotting down that hallway this morning with the carnation in her cape. I remember her that night in Remire. She was wound up tighter than a loom…Today, Her Highness looked like she had gone back in time and won the battle of the Tailtean Plains. And after… well, Seteth came in here asking if you were some kind of player. I put two and two together."

Lacking any words again, I took a long sip of the tea.

"How do you feel about her, kid?"

It's a strange question. I've only been familiar with Edelgard for a week.

There are certain things that I know.

I know that she's a Princess, for example.

I know that I want to protect her.

I know that I died for her - and that Sothis turned back time so I could save her all over again.

I know that I wanted to become her teacher.

I know she also wanted me to become her teacher.

I also know she's hiding something important from me.

Most of all, I know that I want to know more about her.

And in doing so, perhaps know more about myself.

But I don't have a clear grasp of something like feeling. How can I even properly express that to my father?

I can only answer him as honestly as I can.

"I'm… not entirely sure."

He takes those words in with a deep breath.

"You have definitely changed a lot, kid."

I look back up at him.

"I know that feeling all too well. A word of advice: keep her close until you figure it out."

I nod. He cracks a smirk.

"Although, from the little I've seen, she's following you around like a lost kitten anyway. Shouldn't be too hard."

I wonder. It seems to me like I'm following in her shadow, instead. As if most of the conscious decisions that I've made over the past week have mostly concerned Edelgard.

I'm about to ask him if that's how he felt about my mother, but Leonie appears, red-faced and sweaty at the door.

"I've... got the berries, Cap!"

He gives her a thumbs up and then turns back to me.

"Don't fuck it up." he orders.


I had to leave shortly after Leonie returned. She's a bit too high-energy for me at the moment.

Well, at most moments.

For a while, I content myself with standing on the monastery ramparts. For a couple of hours, I'm able to find some proper solitude, where the only intrusion into my thoughts was from the whipping of the winds. The breeze was quite cutting today, as if the Great Tree Moon was pushing out the last of Fodlan's winter air in an effort to pave the way for the summertime that would follow in the next month.

As I collected myself, a thought forced itself to the forefront of my mind over and over again.

How do I feel about Edelgard?

That's what my father wanted to know. I wanted to know too, but I can't just yet. It just seemed so soon to have a feeling about someone you've only known for a few days. Is that how normal people lived? Forming immediate assessments and attaching emotion so quickly?

Does it seem even more remote because I'm trying to analyze it?

Probably.

Maybe I should just cut through.

"Yo- Teach?"

My thoughts are interrupted by a familiar voice. It belongs to His Deceitfulness.

I turn to him and nod.

"Seems like I'm always catching you in the midst of contemplation." He says.

"Don't worry about it, Claude." I say after a few moments. It may have been hard at that moment to hide my dissatisfaction with his arrival.

"Is it the same thing you were frowning about the other night?" He asks with a smirk.

It takes me a moment to think about what in particular he was referencing - until I realized that I had successfully deflected this same question from him a few days ago on the viaduct.

"In a way, yeah."

He tosses another farthing coin in my direction. I'm able to grab it with one hand, this time. He smirks.

"Happy to offer my two cents, Teach. I'm pretty sure you've already learned the hard way that Edel's not as good a listener as yours truly!"

I guess he's not wrong about that. Edelgard fixates more than she listens. But I can't actually tell him that, can I? If his ego inflates anymore, he'll float away in the next gust of wind.

"I'm a teacher. You should be asking me for advice." I say, tossing him the coin back.

He catches it with the same animated jump that I did on the night of the twenty-third.

"Well, I guess I can oblige." He said after a few moments.

I turn myself fully to face him, admittedly a bit surprised. I wait for him to continue.

"I've got an ambition, Teach..."

With insufficient information to really formulate a reply, I simply choose to nod.

"And here's the issue: because you chose Edel and the Beagles, I may need to march right through her and you to get there. It could get ugly!"

"...Is this about the mock battle?" I ask.

"I mean it is in the smallest possible sense. I'm gonna beat you and Edel in that, of course! But I'm talking about bigger and better things, Teach. Past the academy. Real life. Military things, diplomatic things, and political things too. And I know you hate that last part."

"I do."

"I know you do. So that's why I'm gonna ask you a question."

I brace myself.

"Sad to say, but someday, there's probably a future where we're all gonna be on different paths. I may come to blows with Edel. Maybe even Dimitri, too. The three of us - well, we're all gonna be running countries someday, after all."

"True enough." I reply. I don't see how that's any concern of mine, though.

"I can promise you, Teach - right here, right now, that I'm gonna try and take the high road in any disputes the three of us have. But I may need your help to do that."

"I'm not sure I can do that." I say, quite honestly. Who does he think I am, exactly?

Claude smirks.

"I think you might be underselling yourself there! You seem to get along with just about everyone you meet. I'm jealous, really."

I shrug. He takes that as license to continue.

"Today, I had to endure Lysithea and Marianne talking about you during our class meeting. Those two… well, they're not exactly the complimentary types. Lysithea can be a real pain, and Marianne… well you know she doesn't talk much."

I shrug. It was worth noting that Manuela was giving the Deer far less free time, though.

"They really like you, Teach. I was shocked. You've got a way with people."

He seems like he isn't done yet, so I simply hold my gaze.

"Listening to those two, well it got me thinking. Me, Edel, Dimitri - there's not a lot we see eye to eye on... Actually, there's basically nothing."

"I can't disagree." I say at last.

"See? You're getting it. But there is one thing that we all have agreed on, pretty recently in fact."

"And that is?"

"We all wanted you as our Teach, Teach."

Claude's words hit hard - like I had just taken a charge from a Great Knight.

"So if some day, long after these peaceful academy days…"

Claude trails off and looks rather wistfully across the monastery walls.

"Speak your mind, Claude." I command.

"...You mind if we speak in hypotheticals instead, Teach?"

I shake my head.

"Cool, so let's say - hypothetically... long after you're enjoying your retirement somewhere nice and quiet... Sound okay so far?"

"That doesn't sound so bad." I reply earnestly.

"Let's say Edel and I come to blows, hypothetically. And I beat her. Let's say I beat her real hard, and she's stuck doing something real stupid. Like stupid enough to get herself killed."

"That does sound like her." I say.

"Right? I knew you'd get it. Anyway, can I count on you to leave your cozy retirement for a little while and try to stop her from doing something like that? She really thinks the world of you, Teach. I'm thinking she'd listen."

Maybe I had the wrong read on Claude.

He's presented me a clear fork in the road. In a sense, he's given me a fine choice to make - one all my own, indeterminate of circumstance and fate.

A selfless offering on his part, I think.

Thank you, Claude.

"You can." I say, reflexively clenching a fist. His Deceitfulness seemed surprised.

"I wasn't expecting a reply right now, but I can't say I'm unhappy about that! Is that a promise, Teach?"

You better believe it.

"It is."

A whipping wind strikes us, leaving my reply hanging in the air without further words to accompany it.

"Claude." I say after the bluster begins to fade.

"Yeah, Teach?"

"Mind if we add to that pact a little bit?"

A big grin starts to grow on Claude's face, as if he's finally got some leverage over me. He seems a moment away from salivating.

"That might be dangerous! I don't sign deals without knowing the terms and conditions first."

"If those roles that you described are reversed…"

"Hypothetically?" He asks.

"Hypothetically." I confirm.

"Sure."

"...Wait until I get there to do anything stupid yourself, alright?"

"I can assure you that I've got it all planned out, Teach - don't worry about me."

I shake my head.

"Still… It sounds fair to me. You've got a deal." He says.

Claude extends his hand.

I shake it.

And we make a pact that I swear to see through until the end.


Returning to the dorm room later that evening, I find myself with even more thoughts to collect than when I had made my sojourn to the ramparts.

My father and Claude have left me with too much to think about. Particularly the latter.

Fighting Edelgard? Fighting me?

What's going on in his head?

Did the two other leaders really take my decision to teach the Black Eagles that seriously?

Was choosing Edelgard over Claude or Dimitri such a mortal decision in and of itself?

"I told you that I had a feeling that such a decision would have immense consequence."

Sothis sits across from me on the bed again with a look of self-satisfied arrogance.

"Are you making night-time visits inside Claude's head, too?" I ask her.

"No! But it seems to me that you're trying to joke in order to hide your own narrow view of things."

I nod and grant her that. This was a sort of a given for most of my life. I kept on a narrow path because I wanted to live my life in such a way. My father identified an enemy, I went to kill the enemy. It was an easy reason to wake up the next morning, and a fine way to make a living.

But perhaps I was missing the forest for the trees.

I return to the Tacticon with renewed interest.

Following his introductory chapter where he laid out his casus belli and war aims, Mauricius spends the first half of the book detailing the necessary components of army management with practical examples drawn from the campaign he was currently conducting while writing the text, even adding tables, graphs, and maps that he hand-drew into the original manuscript. For me, this is more of a review than a new vein of knowledge. As my father's adjutant, I handled most of the day-to-day staff work of the company while he focused on leadership and combat training.

I knew tips on how to provision a battalion of troops at any given time. Mauricius knew tips on how to provision entire field armies. I knew how best to direct field entrenchments for a platoon or company. Mauricius understood how to direct these operations at the division-and-corps level.

It occurred to me that many of the concepts that the Emperor is dealing with in this first half would probably go over the heads of an amateur reader, or someone who did not have some experience in this matter on a smaller scale. This is where I questioned the utility of describing such things to his descendants in the particular way he approached the texts. Did every Emperor know battle like he did?

Did his heir ever handle a battalion before leading an army?

Perhaps she attended this very officers academy, but I haven't found much evidence that they're working on that level yet.

I suppose Edelgard is leading her "platoon" of Black Eagles. But can it ever be well and truly the same?

Maybe I'll find out in due time if she grasps the concepts he's trying to introduce. Worst case scenario, I can try to replicate them with the Eagles on a smaller scale by tapping into my own knowledge bank.

That's what teaching is all about, right?

Still, there is little in the text's first half that is remotely useful for the mock battle. I glance over to my wall calendar and notice that we are only three days shy from it. And one of those days - tomorrow, the twenty-eighth, will be consumed in physical training with Edelgard.

These circumstances initially convince me that skimming the book might be a better strategy, but I decide against it.

It's good that I don't.

One topic that I am able to glean from is the use of signal flares and dispatching orders by arrow and runner instead of owl. Mauricius was quick to cast aspersions on the usefulness of the owl as a messenger - as even the best trained owls would sometimes follow their own instincts and take a diversionary hunting trip before delivering an essential order on the field.

Mauricius advocated for the use of a dedicated, human, signaling corps consisting of smoke signalers and runners. In the case that runners could not be spared, such as in the crossing of rivers in inclement weather, archers firing dummy arrows with orders wrapped around were a quick salve. I found that idea rather apropos for someone like Bernadetta, who clearly dreaded combat.

This point in question also lined up rather neatly with the first topic introduced in the second half of the Tacticon. This is where the book got good, I think. He kind of figures out his audience in it.

The preface writer notes that his daughter was born just before he embarked on completing the book. Apparently, the first half - sans the introduction - was written before he had properly fallen for his wife.

The second half is titled "The Indirect Approach".

In lieu of attempting to summarize, I will include the opening lines of the text here:

My child, remember that the shortest route is often the roundabout one.

Throughout my youth, I despised the affairs of court. If the palace of Enbarr still stands, my heir, I should ask you to one day apply this experiment on a weekday:

You will know that there are two traditional ways to access the Throne Room from the Entrance Hall - the first is through the Grand Atrium, where the distance between entrance and throne is two hundred imperial yards. The second, is to take an immediate left turn at the entrance hall and pass through the hall of portraits, around the gardens, and into the kitchen. From the kitchen, simply make your another left and viola - you've arrived at the throne room.

In my youth I ran about the inner palace with a tape measure, much to the chagrin of my Aunt Regent. The distance of this route, when taken, was well over seven hundred imperial yards.

I would submit to you, my child, that this longer route in distance is in fact the shortest route in time.

When you enter the Grand Atrium, the domestics will appear and attempt to wait on you. They have prepared themselves all day for the moment in which you arrive, and will block your path in an effort to serve you.

Once you have conquered them, the noble courtiers will block your path, and petition you with the most minute of grievances. In order not to embarrass them or provoke intrigue, you must accept each one of their petitions and hand them to your attendant who trails behind you, moving at the snail's pace directed by the courtly protocols of my very Aunt.

When the last courtier has been satisfied, it is then incumbent upon you to listen to the wailing of your generals, who will attempt to convince you that disaster waits upon every front of theirs unless given more farmhands to expose to camp fever and scurvy.

After you finally rest your buttocks upon the throne, I suspect you will have wasted at least an hour walking a mere two-hundred yards.

Should you take that left into the portrait hall, none will accost you. The servants will mill about in their place, the nobles in theirs, and the generals in theirs totally unaware of your arrival. They are fixed in their positions.

In the gardens, perhaps a gardener will bow before you. Merely tap him on the shoulder and continue your excursion to the kitchen, in peace and quiet.

When you arrive in the Kitchen, the staff may not even notice you at first. If they do, they will be too shocked to do much else other than bow. Give them a wave, and then emerge into the throne room. Take a seat on that chair, deliver your orders, and retire the same way you came. And then enjoy the remainder of the day.

The last time I did such a thing, I went from entrance to throne in twenty minutes. Present this to your mathematics tutor for a detailed explanation of your relative speed in each approach.

And then, my child, look upon this map of mine detailing the Battle of the Brionac.

It's the first time I detected any bit of amusement from the Emperor in this book. We also seem to share a distaste of politics. In effect, I feel as if there's a great deal to learn from him now.

The Battle of the Brionac was also a rather interesting setpiece fight - one of the few battles that Mauricius fought that was not a drawn-out-siege. In it, he squared off against the combined forces of Faerghus and Brigid and was outnumbered roughly two-to-one.

He positioned himself behind the region's rather famous plateau, and after detaching a diversionary force, marched around the length of the rise in the dead of night, and slammed into the flank of the Brigidians the following morning. Petra's people were routed from the sudden strike, and the people of Faerghus, so disgusted by the retreat, cut down their own allies in fury. This exhausted them, and they were then attacked in their own flank by Mauricius's diversionary force.

It was a total tactical victory.

He had won this fight six weeks before investing the siege of Arianrhod, where he later died.

The plan struck me as genius.

And it was something that I thought could be applied.

I was struck by a sudden desire to visit the outskirts of Garegg Mach where the mock battle would be held to inspect the ground, but was struck by sleep before I could make good on it.