Oliver stood upon Tabantha Village overlook. Truly, Hyrule was a land to be proud of. And all hyruleans, be them humans, hylians, ritos, gerudos or whatever, even pigs and dogs, should be proud as well of the land they had had the fortune to be born in. The view he was looking at that moment was one that, no matter how accustomed to it he had become, was certainly surprisingly beautiful all days. Far away to the north and west, the Hebra Mountain Range's snow-covered peaks were up against the setting sun, shining and shimmering, crowning the orange and soon to be dark sky. Some of the earlier stars were already peeking, showing their beauty to the people who had time and cared to look up and admire them. The thick snowy forests went up and down through the mountains and hills like static waves of a deep green sea. To the other side, the lands cleared, still cold, but not frozen over, from the cliffs of the Rito to the wet marshlands next to the field.

Oliver usually was alone in that overlook, a small plaza fenced off at the side of a cliff, at the edge of town, and so it seemed, at the edge of the world. However, this lovely soon-to-be night, he wasn't. A blue haired woman from the western continents was also there, leaning forward against the fence in a rather precarious manner. Oliver had observed her out of pure interest, for she had been there for at least a few hours, staring at the endless peaks and valleys and slopes of the mountains.

'The sun is setting…' the woman finally spoke, in a murmur, almost to herself. Oliver was puzzled by these sudden and obvious words, but, in a joking manner, he decided to play along, rising his ale at her.

'It sure is m'lady.' He said in a thick northern accent, unbothered by such vague statements.

'I must hurry… Sir, where is the nearest tavern?' she asked hurriedly, her eye pleading to him.

He signalled the indications to her. 'Right that way, until you reach the jail and the cemetery. Quite a lovely view, some would say better than this one, haha.' he laughed.

The strange woman hurried off, not even saying thanks. Quite an unkind thing thought Oliver, but not uncommon. he watched rush off into the streets, walking in a strange manner. He then looked at the landscape beyond him.

'Oh well.' He took a sip of his ale. It tasted horribly.

Byleth had found herself in the situation she had always hoped she never had to be in. She felt like a stranger in a strange land. Hyrule was vastly different from Fódland. In a way, everything was. There were not any lands quite like it. War had scarred the country long before she was born, and still did, with its three nations constantly in a struggle for power. She didn't understand it as a kid; why not just make peace? But as an adult, she knew better. War brought balance. One nation recovered, one fought and one suffered, Then, the recovered one would fight, and the loser would recover as the nation previously at war lost. It wasn't an exact cycle, but it kept all the lords in check. At least until Ylisse came along.

Hyrule was different. She only knew of one major crisis the kingdom had faced in the recent year, that of a certain old horror called the Calamity, but, as far as she knew, it had been dealt with by a local hero and Lady Zelda. Hyrule was a strong kingdom, that was feared by many. And yet, it was also strangely beautiful. Its green plains rolled over until they reached the enormous castle in the centre of the country, or so she had been told. The Hebra mountains shined azure and silver crowning the night sky while snow gently fell upon the grey and blue bricks. The land she was at, Tabantha, was famous for the Rito people, bird-people that travelled across all lands and told all kinds of imaginative and captivating stories.

But Byleth wasn't there for stories or landscapes, unfortunately. She was on the run. And she was on a mission. She was there to tell the lords of Hyrule the grave danger they were about to face, and what had really happened at Osternia. She couldn't tell her through a letter, they had closed her off before anything, so she had decided to tell them in person. Who? King Rhoam or Princess Zelda, or even the Castle's cook. She cared not. Someone had to know.

She was heading to a local tavern some kind old man had told her the location of. She had to find a way to have an audience with the king, at least, get to the castle safely. She was no fool. She knew the Ylissian Empire knew she was alive. Someone must have told them she was seen in the port city sneaking into a boat off to Hellas, whoever had been killing her in exchange for some coin. Then when in Hellas, she had joined a merchant caravan to get to Hyrule. And now she was stuck on Tabantha Village, heading to its tavern, in hopes of finding safe way into the field. Upon entering, the smell of old wood and beer filled her lungs. There was singing, dancing, and laughing. No matter the land, no matter the lord, all taverns were the same: fun. She began asking the people (those who weren't too drunk) about any caravans or safe but discrete ways into the citadel, but she got no straight answer, just the road to get there. Some men merely flirted with her, but if only they knew what lived within her... Some Rito, strange looking creatures, similar to the laguz of Tellius but more drawn to their animal side, warned her against leaving the north at that time of the year, for a festival with dances and even more wine and music would take place; that of the Northern Lights. But no one seemed to feel the despair in her call for aid, and so it was that she felt as she had since leaving Fódlan: alone.

She sat down and asked for a cider or a pint. She really could use something at that moment, but she didn't care what. At least, not too much. She really didn't know how to proceed. Sure, she could keep asking to the townsfolk, but she was unsure whether she would get a straight answer or not, perhaps even an invitation. But, for the time being, she decided to keep her desires to herself. Although hyruleans were indeed much more peaceful than basically any osternian, she was a stranger, and strangers were not really welcome anywhere, but especially in Hyrule. She silently drank her drink, staring at her reflection on the liquid inside the wooden mug. When looking at her sorroundings, she felt happy and empty all at once. There was cheering for the approaching festival, but, of course, she could not fell any of it. As a bard finished his song about a "Hunter" and "Wolf of Wild" who fought off devils and snakes, a spontaneous choir came from the people at the tavern, as they made a toast between them. They sang:

North of the field

where crown lies high

when the nights yield

and the skies starts to cry

Look upon us!

the northen lights are here

look below us!

the winter's in your rear!

As bright as stars

with silver turqouise glow

on ice and memoirs

in which the colours grow

See before you!

The lights of north shine bright!

See around you!

Skies green and blue and white!

The bells are ringing

and the night turns to day,

as the north alights singing

and all the stars make way!

Stand aside men!

The northern lights are coming through!

Look aside men!

They're forming just for you

As the song came to an end and clapping started, she so clapped, smiling faintly, hoping for the comfort of a long lost home. As she thought of what to do, looking at a yellowed and badly shaped map of the North of Hyrule, people started leaving the tavern. Still, she payed no attention; the map was old, and hard to read, but she made the best out of it. She could see the adly drawn mountains she could see just outside the windows. Truely, they were but a spec of dust compared to the real thing. She had come to Hebra from the south, travelling the rather quiet lands of Hellas; be that Old Eeria or the ever expanding Vangellas, wanting to avoid the darkness from the East, but facing the war from the south. As she examined thoroughly the map, not at will but at necessity, she set aside the large box she carried always with her. In it, a dark secret. A great terror. She kept an eye on it, for she didn't want Tabantha to burn to the ground. Nothing of the sort.

Soon, a band of dangerous-looking men entered the tavern. They seemed to be foreigners as herself, but didn't have the look of Osternia, not in their eyes, not in their accents, and much less, the look of Ylisse; nor the ears of hylians or the dressing of hyruleans. Still, she was wary of any stranger; for all she knew, they might be after her with orders from any of the western crowns, calling her being an escaped prisoner or a dangerous wrongdoer, which, to be fair, wasn't exactly wrong. Some minutes passed by, seemingly uninteresting, until, while looking thoroughly at her beverage. Suddenly, she found herself surrounded by the three men. They were dark-skinned, like those she knew from Duscur. Perhaps from somewhere south of Hellas? They wore thick fur and leather coats, the thickest in the tavern, proving unprepared for such a climate. That's what travelling all of Faerghus on your own gets yoiu, thought Byleth, caressing unconsciously her own coat. Still, for all the weight they carried in their coats, they were armed; she caught a glimpse of a curved saber on one of the men's belt, and another had a very sharp and visible axe on his back, and something told her no tree had been cut by such an edge. She prepared to unfold her sword at any given moment and sprint away. One of the men spoke, with a deep growl and a heavy accent she could not identify.

'Ye're not from 'round here.' he said. Byleth barely managed to understand him. He had seemed to skip half the letters on each word.

'Neither are you. What do you want?' she spoke with an informal dialect as to not give a hint of her position. For all they knew, she was either a merchant or a hired farmer with no money.

'What's yer name?' asked another man, vaguely moving, step by step, to Byelth's right, cutting her off of that side.

'Sitri Feuer.' she lied-

Another man spoke, with a similar deep and raspy voice. The other, right in front of her, just glared nastily at her, examining her. Byleth still hoped to get her way out of there by words. 'There's a bounty on a woman from Ylisse, an escaped prisoner. Ye look jus' like her.'

The man who spoke first hit him angrily in the head with his fist. Upon hitting him, he could barely see under his winter cloak a mark in black embedded in his skin. She recognised it immediately. The Raven again.

'Ye idiot! We weren't supposed to tell 'er. Lady Aran will have ye killed and dead for sure…'

'Oh, I'm the fool? Ye just said 'er name, ye bigoted bumblin' biggot!'

Byleth's mind raced, and soon she, almost found herself bolting out of the tavern, almost by surprise. Fighting as out of the question, for they were three and armed, and she did not want anymore bloodshed. It wasn't a humanitarian cause, but a practical one; she was tired and needed rest, of the body and of the mind. She still heard the men inside fight as she took yet more steps in the snow-covered stone floor. She quicly decided to make her way to the nearby forest, just on the side of the cliff, down the big steeps of the mountainside. As she hurried her feet, she heard the same door she had just closed burst open, followed by shouting.

'Ye idiot! Why didn't ye tell she was gettin' away?!' the first man spoke angrily.

'It looked like ye were 'avin' fun.' replied a second lazily. Byleth bet he had also been hit in the head.

'I'll 'ave fun kickin' yer balls after we're done! Go get 'er!'

She continued outrunning the three men through nooks and turns as to lose them, but even if they were slower than her, they managed to keep Byleth on their sight, as hunters did. She crossed a small stone bridge and tried not to slip on the ice and snow. The townsfolk gave her looks, some ran away and others whispered. Her focus, though, was set on getting down from the village and into the woods. Unfortunately, the goddess didn't have such a plan in mind, and in one of her usual cruel jokes, Byleth wandered into the wrong street, all looking the same. She stopped at an alleyway, a dead end, of course. The wall there was part of the mountain and too tall to climb. The houses, both at the sides, were too tall a climb as well. No one seemed to be home. She sighed, being able to save some poor kid a bloodbat, and so unsheathed her sword, ready to fight.

The three men appeared almost on command at the alley. Huffing and puffing, they bore a twisted smile on their face, looking forward to the fight.

'Got ye, ye skank...' the leader began to say, when suddenly a small rock hit him in the head, leaving a petty mark. A little boy was throwing pebbles at them from a balcony of the house next to the alley, probably out of boredom, maybe out of exictement, definitely just to be a nuissance and for the sake of it. The kid, no older than 8, threw another pebble, this time at the axe wielding mercenary.

'Why ye lil' dev-' said the other man, unsheathing another curved sword, but again was hit by another pebble. The boy, striking the now cursing man on the eye, then started to shout.

'Bad ugly people in the alley in the square, call the guard!'

'Boss?' asked the man who was nearest to Byleth, sword in hand.

'Get the girl and we run!' he hurriedly commanded. But Byleth would have none of it.

She got ready to invoke her magic, some fire and faith powers that she had learnt as a child. She tensed up and took up a defensive pose. For a moment, she closed her eyes, and, just like the old days, there was only battle around her. A crying home.

But all was cut short as something or someone fell upon her from the sky, something very heavy. It crushed and trapped her with a heavy stomp, and left her unable to move, stuck under the weight of what seemed to be a thousand rocks, but she somehow remained unhurt and untouched.

'What…?' she managed to say, words scraping off her asfixiating throat, but more shouting cut her off once again. Hyruleans may be skilled in war and art, but they lacked the manners to let people talk. Quite rude. This time, a male voice spoke up, covered by a metal plate. The so familiar sound of swords and armour met her ears. The guard. That damned kid...

'Surrender now.' the newcomer said loudly. Byleth, moreso than angry, found herself surprised at the reliability of the guard of that town; not a minute had passed and they were there. She wondered if perhaps, they were as reilable with her and would let her go. But, as soon as the man spoke again, thos hopes quickly fainted. 'You are filth of the streets and must be punished.' He scontinued in his very heavy and exaggerated royal accent, most uncommon and certainly pretentious on those parts, although Byleth thought it was somewhat forced.

'Who are ye?' asked the one Byleth thought was the stupidest of the mercenaries, and that was something.

'Captain Ponthos of the guard of Hyrule and Protector of Tabantha Village!" he said and made a dramatic pose, putting his arm in front of his chest, as he almost dropped his spear. 'Lay down your weapons or you shall be dealt with.' he commanded. He put an effort in his voice to instill fear, being noticeable to anyone man who knew how inflection worked. It didn't work on Byleth, but, as fate would have it, it worked in the mercenaries.

'Wait! We're part of the Ra… I mean, part of the Sunset Merchant Association.' said the mercenary leader difficultly pronouncing the last word.

'And?' said a female soldier defiantly, holding tighter her spear.

'I see…" said Captain Ponthos, barely interested, but with a curious or ironic pinch in his voice. 'Either way, you were causing trouble! Terrorizing the citizens! We stand not for that; take them to the prison!' he shouted 'And we'll see what we do later...' he said, once again, hiding interest in his voice. The guard, comprising of four knights, arrested the three men and took their weapons away. Why were those mercenaries so cooperative with the guard? Why had they lied? Questions agulped in her mind, but she had no time to formulate them; she had to go away. If there mercenaries there and then, surely more wold be arriving. However, she soon, she felt the weight that was above her go away. She tried to get herself up on her feet again after what felt like an eternity, and to turned to see her attacker. A goron from the Death Mountain. She wondered what it was doing there, in such a cold land. Her questions, again, would go unanswered.

'Tanko! Get that western woman to the prison as well. Take her sword.'

'Right up sir!' it lifted Byleth off the ground in a moment's notice and carried her on its back.

'Wait I!' she started to talk, wanting to explain the situation before it got extremely worse but the goron covered her mouth, like the stupid rock Byleth now thought it was.

'Now's not the time for words, ma'am.' said the goron rather joyfully. 'Now's the time for prison.' Tanko ran fast across the town, getting lost in the snow and dirt. She could not believe what was happening. Amongst all the thoughts on her head, only one came to the foreground of her mind;

I really could use a cider or a pint…