"Thank you all for joining me," Edelgard said.
She sat tall at the end of the table in the war room. Her regal red clothes the color of blood, she radiated power. Caspar couldn't help but feel cowed.
Why, after five years, would she come now?
To her right sat Hubert, dutiful and attentive. On her left, Myson. Opposite the royal party, Caspar and his father sat at the other end.
"Was the journey here eventful?" Edelgard asked, looking to Victor. "I've read your report, but I would like to hear it from you."
Victor, entirely at ease, seemed to have been expecting this visit. And judging from Myson's disposition, Caspar was the only one caught unaware. He held his tongue, watching, waiting.
"Nothing we couldn't handle," Victor said, voice smooth. "Our prisoner gave us a little trouble around Hevring, but we managed to take care of it."
Edelgard honed in on it. "Let's cut to the chase, then. You have him, yes?"
Victor nodded and Myson leaned forward, smiling like a predator. "Shall I bring him in?" Victor asked.
"Please," Edelgard requested, nodding.
The Count of War gestured to one of his soldiers who stood near the door, who seemed to be waiting for the moment. He departed quickly, with purpose.
"While we wait," Edelgard said, "how has the transition been to Merceus?"
"Caspar has been extremely beneficial in catching me up on the going-ons," he said, proudly, patting his son on the shoulder. "And keeping things running smoothly, here. The Alliance won't break through Merceus, should they find their way here."
"And they shouldn't," Myson said. "Not if Lord Arundel has anything to say about it."
"Indeed," Edelgard agreed. "My uncle will eradicate these last vestiges of the Church before they reach here. Perhaps it's good that the Alliance and Church have joined. Grouping our enemies together will benefit us."
"And what is the status of your little project here?" Hubert asked, to Myson.
The pale man smiled. "Oh, we have had lots of success with the Chalice. The report outside Hrym was a test run, if you will. Once I have the prisoner, that will be the final piece to the puzzle."
"I see," Edelgard said. She cast a look at Caspar. "Has Myson briefed you on your next task?"
Caspar cleared his throat. "He has been quite vague, actually."
Myson frowned. "I did not want to share information preemptively, Emperor."
Edelgard ignored him. "Caspar, Myson and his people have been putting together a group of soldiers. Enhanced soldiers. What is the name you gave them?"
"Deadlords," Myson supplied.
"Deadlords," she echoed. "You will lead this group he has created. You will answer to Myson."
Something in his lower stomach seized up, that same survival instinct that told him at all costs to avoid this. The Emperor's words felt off, as if saying something more about it all. If he didn't know better, he'd think she didn't mean some of the things she said. "Pardon, Emperor, but transferring control over to my father is not something easy. It takes time. I will not leave such duties unfinished with the Alliance edging closer. Merceus standing is of paramount importance."
Victor gave him a sidelong glance, knowing that to be a half truth. If they worked through all of a day, they could finalize everything. Even then, such business was more formality than anything.
He did not comment on it, turning back to the Emperor. "That's right, Emperor."
"Then as soon as you are finished," Edelgard ordered. "Report to Myson."
Myson leaned back in his chair, smiling. It sent another chill down Caspar's back. "Once ready," Myson said, "come to our barracks. We'll get you…ready for your new duties."
A knock at the door interrupted Caspar's thoughts. Victor stood up and answered it, collecting the prisoner from his soldier.
"We drugged him," Victor explained, as he brought the relatively limp man into the room. He was smooth shaven with a shock of short, green hair. His eyes were rolled back into his head, unconscious.
"Who is he?" Caspar asked, looking at the handsome man. His physique spoke warrior above all else.
Myson breathed. "By Agartha herself, he is magnificent. Spawn of hers, so well preserved. Yes, this is what we need." He stood and walked to the chair Victor set the man down in.
"That," Edelgard said, "is Saint Indech."
"You're joking," Caspar said, forgetting his place.
Hubert shot him a warning look, but Edelgard chuckled. "I know, I was shocked as well. Victor, would you care to share the story?"
"Gladly," he said, taking his seat again as Myson flittered around Indech like a moth to flame. "I had received reports of a creature in Lake Teutates, something huge, something large. Folklore said it would grant wishes. I'll admit to a certain curiosity, so I sent a few people to investigate."
He shook his head, as if still not believing. "We found the creature, a huge dragon. Or turtle, or something else entirely. It was quite the specimen. I thought we might harness it for the war effort. But it turns out the Agarthans with my unit recognized it for something else.
"We fought the beast, using some brand of magic to land the final blow that I do not understand. When the smoke cleared, there lay a man, as you see before you. I interrogated him myself. He was…disoriented, but yielded a name. Indech."
"And you believed him?" Caspar interrupted.
Victor bristled at being cut off, but shook his head. "No. But I couldn't refute the information about the Crest he had. The most powerful Crest of Indech history has ever seen since, of course, Indech himself. I interrogated him further. He told me a lot of stories. I prefer to accept what I see with my own eyes, but even I was persuaded. The man is one of the Saints, blessed by the Goddess herself."
"False Goddess," Edelgard corrected.
"Of course, pardon," Victor amended. "Which brings me to the little news I do have. I informed Jeritza of what Indech said of Macuil. He will push into Sreng after the heretics are dealt with in the north."
"Excellent," Edelgard approved. "Myson, does this satisfy you?"
"Your majesty," Myson breathed through a wide grin. "I think this could turn the entire war on its head. What I can do with him…"
Caspar squired, unpleasant memories of Myson bending over him on an operating table.
"Make it so," Edelgard said, nodding. "Any aid you require, you will have it. Report to Hubert on your progress."
Myson glanced at Lord Vestra and wrinkled his nose. But he nodded. "You will be done, Emperor."
"You mentioned trouble?" Edelgard prompted, looking back at her Minister of War.
"He recovered enough to revert back to his draconic state outside Hevring," Victor explained. "We took him down without much effort, but decided on a more cautious approach. Thus, his current condition. It will wear off within a day, if not dosed again."
"Hold him in the cells for a day," Myson said, still looking at Indech. "Give me a day to rearrange somethings to accommodate for this…delightful development."
"Is this agreeable?" Edelgard asked.
"Of course," Victor said. "My son and I shall take care of it."
"Caspar, take Indech to the cells for the time being," Edelgard commanded. "Victor, remain here. We must discuss the Arundel battle plans."
Caspar stood, and did as he was told.
Petra had taken to the rooftops as soon as she heard of Edelgard's arrival. It was there she agonized over what to do. Like a gargoyle, she lingered on the edges, staring down in cold contemplation.
If Caspar revealed her presence, Hubert would come find her. Knowing him, he'd indeed find her, no matter how she hid. And even if he didn't, he could still give the order for Brigid's demise.
Lucky for her, she was not the only person who avoided detection.
Petra only saw them because they took to the roofs as well. Though where Petra moved with the grace of a cat, this person lacked all agility.
Without much effort, Petra stealthily crossed buildings to bring herself closer to the person. Strangely, they did not run away. They pulled down their hood upon seeing her.
"Lysithea?" Petra gasped, taken aback.
The white-haired woman stood tall, not backing down. "Are you here to stop me, Petra?"
Petra blinked, confused. "From what?" Then reality sank in. Lysithea would tell Edelgard of her whereabouts. That could not happen.
Lysithea breathed, relaxing. "News hasn't spread, then. Good."
The woman of Brigid's hand slid to the pommel of her sword. She slowly drew her steel.
"Petra," Lysithea said, eyes wide. "Petra, what are you doing?"
"I can't have her know," Petra whispered, tortured. "I'm sorry, Lysithea." Her blade lashed out as she jumped forward.
"Petra!" Lysithea shouted, weaving her hands in a complicated pattern. Ice reached from the shingles, forming a hand, and grabbed her leg. She jerked to a halt while Lysithea waved a wand—Thyrsus—in a quick motion.
An even larger slab of ice emerged, encasing all of her, like an insect in amber. Her head was spared, but she was completely immobile.
"No!" Petra growled, struggling against the frozen bonds. "I can't—"
"Shut up!" hissed Lysithea. "You'll give us away more than we already have. I'm not with Edelgard or the Empire anymore."
Petra stopped moving. "What?"
"That's the reason, right?" Lysithea guessed, fear still playing out in her eyes. "You don't want Edelgard to know where you are after what happened to Gloucester, right? If she doesn't know, then Hubert can't act against Brigid."
Petra's silence said volumes.
Lysithea nodded, relaxing some. "If I release you, will you promise not to kill me?" she asked. "Because we need to move before we're discovered."
Against better judgement, Petra agreed.
"You're not really him, are you?" Bernadetta asked, slowly edging towards the cell.
A groan emerged and the supposed Saint glanced up at her. His eyes were unfocused, but he seemed lucid. "I beg your pardon?"
"Indech," Bernadetta said. "It's not possible for you to be him."
The man hummed and just smiled shakily. "I must apologize, miss, I'm afraid I can't quite concentrate on…" The thought escaped him and he turned back to the wall with the same bizarre smile.
"Goddess," Bernadetta breathed. "What did they do to you?"
"Needles," Indech said. "Needles." He tapped the ground in almost a musical beat, forgetting her again.
This was wrong. Bernadetta closed her eyes. She'd held hope for the Empire, that maybe Edelgard could be redeemed but…
Indech started scratching his arms. "Stop. No, no more." The smile vanished, replaced by fear.
There was no redeeming this. Bernadetta sighed, wondering how much it'd be worth it to spring Indech from his cell. She could save him, but at the cost of all her position.
Yuri needed her where she was, with all the power that came with. She could not risk it.
"I am so sorry," she whispered. "I am so sorry, grandfather." Though he was a great many greats her grandfather. But the Crest she bore was sure genealogy.
"Cold. Cold. Cold." Indech murmured, scratching his arms more.
She turned away, unable to watch any longer. Tears spilled from her eyes as she turned her back on the last family member she had left.
This cruel world, she thought. Change was needed, but it would not be right by Edelgard's hand.
Bernadetta would break this Empire.
"Explain what is happening," Petra snarled as soon as they slipped into a room through its window.
"I destroyed the Gloucester army," Lysithea admitted, though still wary of Petra's blade at her belt. She let her guard down enough to slip into one of the chairs, weary. "Then I rode here as fast as I could."
"Why?"
"Why destroy them?" Lysithea asked. "To save a friend."
"No, why come here," Petra said, already understanding that Lysithea was not committed to the cause. She was committed to Edelgard. Or used to be, perhaps.
"I need to speak to Caspar, then head to Enbarr to see Edelgard." Lysithea bit her lip. "At least that was the plan before I realized Edelgard was already here."
"You were the most devoted of any of us. To her," Petra said, taking a seat across the room.
"And then I learned the truth about who killed Linhardt," Lysithea whispered.
Petra cocked her head. "You didn't know Hubert did it?"
"You did?"
"Of course," Petra said, confused.
"Then I applaud your deductive reasoning." Lysithea stared at the floor, ashamed.
"No, it was not that," Petra said. "Sylvain told me."
"Excuse me?" Lysithea gasped. "When did you talk to Sylvain."
"After killing his father, four years ago," she said quietly. "We spoke briefly, he tried to sway me to his side. But I am without the luxury of choice. Hubert has not allowed me that, and now he is here."
"Hubert is here too?" Lysithea said, the gears in her mind turning.
"Yes," Petra answered.
Lysithea was silent, thinking. Petra made no attempt to interrupt.
She hadn't thought about Sylvain in a long time. Part of her hoped he was doing well, but she had a feeling that when Hubert found her, he'd be the next target. Killing Sylvain would destroy the Kingdom. It made sense to deal with the thorn in their side.
"Help me kill Hubert," Lysithea said, suddenly.
Petra froze. "This is not a time for jokes."
Lysithea pressed on. "I mean it. I can't get close to Edelgard with Hubert dogging her shadow. He has to know about the Gloucester army by now, If I can kill him, then I can speak to her without worry of retribution from him. And you would benefit from killing him too."
"You are being foolish," Petra accused. "You think killing a man solves my problems? My nation is held hostage, I cannot do anything."
Lysithea stood and was tall as she looked down at Petra. "Are you going to let them order you around like a dog, or fight back? If you kill Hubert and I deal with Edelgard, your nation will be safe."
There was a flicker of hope before she squashed it herself. "As if we have a chance," Petra growled. "Don't be naïve."
"You're one to talk," Lysithea folded her arms, glaring. "You're naïve to think that everything will work out if you shut up and do what you're told."
Petra stood and stalked towards her. "Don't you fucking dare be calling me complicit in this."
"And what if I am?" Lysithea seethed. "You're to blame too. You think your people want you to roll over while the Empire walks over them? No, they'd want to fight. They'd want you to fight and not roll over like a bitch."
Petra grabbed her by the collar and roared. "You call me the dog?" she shouted. "I fought them at first. These scars aren't from rolling over. But you? Whatever Edelgard asked, you did. Don't call me what you yourself are."
"And here I am for penance." Lysithea didn't flinch as Petra held her. "I'm here to make amends how I can. What are you here to do? Hide?"
Yes. "If I don't, my people—"
"Fuck your people!" Lysithea growled. "Speak without an excuse for once in your damn life. You're a prisoner, we get it. But do you think that cell will collapse by itself?" Lysithea reached up and grabbed Petra's arm where her tattoo had once been. "You think these scars will just disappear? No, these people will keep abusing you until you're dead. If you don't fight back against them, you're giving up. Will that ever free your people?"
Petra said nothing.
Lysithea continued. "Fight, fight as hard as you can. You've been living in chains your entire life. Die without them, if you must. Your people need hope, not the Empire being easy on them because you're ridding the world of the few good people it has. Fight back, Petra, even if it kills you."
"How?" she croaked, so close to breaking.
"Kill Hubert," Lysithea pressed. "Help me rid the world of that worm. With him gone, we can get to Edelgard and end this war. You can save your people, completely."
"I…"
"Die for your people if you must, but don't condemn them to slavery," Lysithea urged.
She met Lysithea's gaze. The woman's eyes were burning coals, barely tempered rage at bay. It rushed through Petra, finding purchase on a fragment of resolve that she still had; the fragment that had stayed her blade when fighting Ferdinand and Shamir. The one that made her flee from Claude. The one that killed Gloucester.
When she looked at Lysithea, that ire burned bright, finding kindling. Deep in her soul, the proud woman from Brigid felt warm again after many, many years.
"I'll...fight."
Time spent with Yuri hadn't been amiss, she thought. Bernadetta slinked to the edge of the roof after following Edelgard's entourage to another building. She was not seen; a shadow passing through the night.
Light emitted from the room and she was careful not to step into it. Laying prone on the edge of the room, she listened.
"…can be Deadlords?" Edelgard.
Myson responded. "I have the specimens you provided. They will make effective warriors."
"I see," Edelgard said. "I'm pleased that blowing your cover to get the Chalice has turned out to be worth it. I had expressed my doubts, but you have alleviated them."
"I saw my chance, and I took it, Emperor," he said. "The Abyssians were already onto me. Giving up my position did not matter."
"That is a decision for your Emperor to make," Hubert growled.
There was silence and Bernadetta realized she despised not seeing facial cues. Then, "You must understand, lapdog, that I do not answer to your Emperor. I offer respect, as it is due, but she is not my liege."
"You vile—"
"Hubert." Edelgard. "Leave it."
Hubert backed down, but even Bernadetta could tell from the silence that he was seething. "Forgive me, milady. I shall go see to matters elsewhere while you deal with this filth."
"The disturbance?" Edelgard asked. "Report back to me on what you find."
"Of course."
A door opened and closed. Bernadetta leaned closer as their speaking became quieter.
"So, is Indech everything you thought he would be?" Edelgard asked. "Explain to me what you've found."
"You are familiar with Crests and their classification, are you not?" Myson asked. "Minor and Major are the terms Crest Scholars use."
"Minor for lesser, Major for more. It's in the words," Edelgard said. "Make your point."
"Fine," Myson bristled. "What the originators of a Crest have seems to be something more than either of those terms. Neither are sufficient. If we thought Major Crests were potent, this is a completely different level."
"And you can do what with that power?" Edelgard asked. "Make Indech into a dragon again?"
Myson laughed. "Oh, Emperor, turning him into a beast as a war machine is a low bar. That goes without saying. I can do that with his husk after I've taken everything I need from his blood. What I will do before that, that is the real valuable."
"How soon can you report to me for what to expect?"
"A week. Two, perhaps."
"I leave Merceus tonight, but I will return in a week. I expect a better answer as to what to expect from him. Do not disappoint me."
"I don't answer to you."
"And you don't want me as your enemy. A week. Bring me results."
Myson left the room and Bernadetta scampered away before she could be found.
"I thought you came to Merceus to take over. You never mentioned anything about Indech," Caspar said when finally reuniting with his father.
Victor nodded. "I did come here for that, primarily. But the Emperor was very curious about Indech, and had me investigate. It panned out, and now she has come to see it in person. I suspect she'll return before long to monitor Myson's progress."
Caspar nodded, looking out over the walls as they walked the ramparts. "And you trust Myson?"
His father shook his head. "I don't think anyone trusts that man. But I follow orders, not question the trust of the Emperor's subordinates. Regardless, he gave you your Crest. I can respect him for that, at least."
"Yeah," Caspar said, sullenly.
Victor put a hand on his shoulder. "Son," he began, searching for words, "I know you and I haven't been close. These past five years haven't helped either…" He trailed off, inviting a question.
"Why?" Caspar asked, screwing his eyes shut as he was beset by horrid memories. "Why did you let them do that to me?"
Victor looked down. "Because…I wanted to try and fix the sin I did to you, son." When Caspar looked at him, confused, he continued. "Caspar, when your mother and I had you, you did not have a Crest. In this world, and I suspect in Edelgard's, Crests mean so much. That I did not pass my Crest of Macuil to you, that fault is mine."
"So giving me this Crest…" Caspar said, brushing his white hair.
His father nodded. "I wanted to give you the life you were not born with. The life I could not give you, until I could."
"I thought you just wanted an heir," Caspar murmured. "A proper heir, with a Crest."
Victor was horrified. "Caspar, no. Never!" He embraced his son. "I would never do such a thing. I do not care for such traditional frivolities, that is why I have sided with Edelgard. But traditions are hard to kill, and the reality is that Crests matter and will continue to. But that does not impact whether you are my son, or my heir, in my eyes. What could have happened to you, what did happen to Randolph, and every other person born without a Crest, is unforgiveable. If Edelgard's world would right those wrongs in time, then I will fight for it with tooth and claw.
"My half-brother, Randolph, would have been my heir, even without a Crest. But he is dead, so is your older brother." Victor closed his eyes. "I have lost so much. I wanted to give you something, something that could make your life easier. You will inherit my title, Caspar, and I refuse to pass that burden onto you without a Crest."
"Father," Caspar said, choking on emotion.
"Son, I am proud of the man you've become," Victor said, pulling away from him and looking him the eyes. "Crest or no Crest, nothing will take that away. You are my son."
"Father, thank you," Caspar whispered, breaking eye contact.
Victor nodded and smiled. "Take the night off. I will handle everything. Rest, think about what I said."
"Of course, father."
"He's inspecting where I was casting," Lysithea whispered. In the light of the moon, she and Petra looked out at Hubert.
He stood where they had nearly had a violent confrontation. Magic thrummed from his hands as he stood in the water from the melted ice.
Petra said nothing, shrinking back at the sight of him.
"We could kill him now," Lysithea murmured. "He's exposed. Could get the drop on him."
"No," Petra said.
Lysithea turned on her. "Are you backing out on me?"
"No," she repeated. He was far too preternatural for that. "Surprise won't be enough."
"Do you have a better idea? If we don't deal with him tonight, Edelgard will go back to Enbarr."
Petra shook her head. "Attacking here is stupid."
Lysithea scowled, but started to think. "If we attack Hubert in Enbarr, we can enlist Hanneman's help. He could lure Hubert into a trap for us."
"You trust Hanneman?" Petra asked.
"With my life," she answered.
"Lysithea!" Hubert called out. "I know you are here."
The two of them froze.
"Come out!" he yelled. "We've got plenty to discuss."
Petra grabbed her by the shoulder. "No."
"It's now or never," Lysithea growled. "He knows."
"He is bluffing," Petra said.
"Edelgard and I wish to debrief you on the Gloucester situation!" he called.
"We need to get the drop on him," Lysithea urged, railing against Petra's restraint.
"No!" Petra growled. "He's ready. He wants you to fight him in the middle of the Empire's biggest stronghold. This is a death sentence."
Lysithea stopped.
"Let's talk!" Hubert shouted.
"We go to Enbarr," Petra said. "Make contact with Hanneman. Set up something."
Lysithea didn't say anything for a time. Then, "Fine."
Petra didn't relax her grip.
Hubert stopped yelled, and finally turned to leave. Only then did Petra relax.
"He is arrogant, cocky," Petra whispered. "We can kill him, but only if we're smart about it."
"And do you have an idea of how?" Lysithea asked.
Petra closed her eyes. "No. But I have spent enough time in proximity to him while he gave me these." She gestured to her scars. "I know him better than he thinks."
"I'm sorry for yelling, earlier," Lysithea murmured. "You didn't deserve that."
The woman from Brigid smiled weakly. "I needed it. You reminded me of Shamir. She would have told me the same thing."
"She's alive, you know," Lysithea said. "She was in the battle at Derdriu."
"Good," Petra said quietly. "Maybe someday I can face her again."
Author Notes: I'm so happy with the response to Maya being trans from last chapter. I want to assure every reader, she will make an appearance soon. I hate background representation, as I find it effectively useless without representation in the foreground. She will appear further on and this is not just a one-off detail. I'm a trans person too, I know what it's like to be queerbaited. I ain't doing that to yall.
Editing Notes:
2/14/2022: Minor grammatical adjustments. Tweaked a few of Edelgard's lines to better align with her character.