Bernadetta screamed.

Caspar's head hung back, limp, and she watched as Myson pressed his palm against Caspar's head. A ghostly, black aura emanated from his hand, wisping away like smoke as Myson chanted under his breath.

Behind her, she could hear Indech moving. But the magic Myson had trapped her with held her taught, preventing her from looking.

"Why?" she cried, tears blurring her eyes but not enough to hide the apparent pain on Caspar's face.

"People with Crests make for better Deadlords," Myson said, not looking to her. "And an artificially implanted Crest? The effect is compounded. If you're lucky, maybe he'll even retain some of his sanity."

"I'll kill you," Bernadetta vowed, her voice a low hiss. Fury warped her face, hiding any hint of the quiet girl who hid in her room. In that moment, that Bernadetta died, a lust for vengeance rising in its place, a fierce desire to protect her friend.

Myson chuckled and said nothing, continuing to focus on Caspar.

Indech screamed behind her, almost obscuring the sound of metal scraping stone. The sound repeated, followed by a body hitting the floor.

"What—" Myson turned his head slightly, his eyes widening.

Indech was at her back, magic of his own on his breath. The bonds that held her broke, dispelled by magic she didn't understand.

Myson's rebuttal came in the form of a bolt of Dark lightning, aimed right for Bernadetta's face. Indech interposed himself with inhuman speed, taking the brunt of the attack with his back. He fell forward, into Bernadetta's now free arms, losing consciousness for a brief moment.

The nails were still in his hands—Indech had ripped them from the wall with his strength alone. As Myson prepared another attack while keeping concentration on Caspar, Indech leapt back into action.

"Child, stay close to me!" he yelled, wrapping his arms around her. With his remaining strength, Indech flung them at the wall he'd been pinned to. Time slowed as they moved, Bernadetta watching as Indech's shoulder morphed.

Dark grey skin took the place of Indech's, only it wasn't skin. Carapace, a shell, emerged from him as Indech grew larger for a brief moment. She couldn't see, but his legs similarly changed, muscles belonging to a far larger creature taking the place of his weak human ones.

The shelled shoulder collided with the stone, collapsing as he hit it. The broken wall revealed dawn, the sun starting to creep up and over Merceus.

"No!" shrieked Myson, furious.

Indech's inhuman strength left him. He reverted to what he'd looked like before, losing consciousness completely this time.

Bernadetta grabbed him around the waist. His body was so emaciated that he was rather light, but still a tall man and awkward to carry. Adrenalin running through her veins got her out of the way of the second blast of magic from Myson, hitting the rubble instead of them.

She ran, carrying Indech over her shoulder. There was a gate outside the fort not far from them, they could flee that way.

Doing so would mean leaving Caspar. It would mean betraying the Empire. No more information could be funneled to Yuri. It would change everything.

It only took one glance at Indech's pained expression to make a decision. She ran for the gate. Even in the morning, soldiers in red and Bergliez black were responding to the scuffle.

Her title was of use to her, as the soldiers all hesitated upon seeing her. "Enemies in the barracks!" she yelled. "Go! Protect the mages!"

"Milady!" they yelled in relative unison, responding.

Bernadetta kept screaming the orders as she bolted to the gate, imperials following her command like the good soldiers they were. Alarm bells began to ring as she made it to the gate, guards moving too slowly to shut said gate as they realized what was happening. She and Indech slipped beneath the portcullis, and were greeted by the open plains.

"Bring them down!" a commander yelled to his archers, but the light was in her favor. Arrows missed their mark in the low light as she kept running away from Merceus.

Away from Caspar. Away from her friend.

But she would not stop.

"Wish one of us knew how to fly a wyvern," Balthus remarked as their horses drank from a stream.

Leonie followed his gaze, looking at the distant mountains. There was a road through them, but the time they could have saved by flying would have been immense. But there had been none to spare, not with how valuable they were for the Almyrans.

"If we push, we shouldn't lose too much time." Leonie shrugged.

Balthus nodded. "At least make up the time we already lost, hopefully."

They'd been forced to skirt along the area Arundel's army was supposedly camped at. Almyran scouts hadn't been able to ascertain an exact position out of fear of revealing themselves. Yuri hadn't received word yet as to whether the enemy was alerted to their Almyran supporters. To keep the element of surprise, scouts were held back.

Leonie, not wanting to run afoul of an entire army, opted for a longer route that lost them a day and a half. But better a loss of time than a loss of their heads.

"Horses are thirsty," Leonie observed, watching their mounts drink greedily.

"If it means I get to stay out of a saddle for a few more minutes, I won't complain," Balthus chuckled.

A few moments passed before Leonie piped up, "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"I saw you speaking to Hilda before we left," Leonie said. "I didn't know you knew her."

"Oh, yeah, we go way back," Balthus said, smiling fondly. "I was close friends with her brother, which meant I got to know her too. Despite the age difference, we were quite the trio. Had no idea she was in the army."

"Pretty sure I'd mentioned Hilda before," she teased.

"It's a common name!" Balthus insisted with a grin. He'd been smiling more, Leonie had noticed, when she did things like that. The banter made him happy.

Probably because she seemed more cheerful doing it, she supposed. It got her mind of Lorenz.

No. She wouldn't think about him now. She had a mission, a duty. Heartbreak wasn't a luxury she could afford in light of that.

"Leonie?" Balthus asked. He'd been saying her name for a while.

"Hm?" She snapped out of her reverie.

"Horses seem done," Balthus said. "You…good to go?"

She needed a break. A long break. No, that wasn't right. Leonie needed this war to be over so she could actually process everything that had happened in the past five years.

But life wasn't fair. "Yeah, let's go."

The sun bore down on the trio as their horses trotted along, tired. It was too early to stop for the day, but their mounts needed rest.

Constance wrinkled her nose, glancing to the sun, feeling the familiar haze descending over her. Hapi had always called her a night owl for all she hated the sun. She wasn't wrong.

She tuned into the other two's conversation to keep her mind from it as they rode ahead of her. "—nothing to go off of?" Hapi asked. "You think you're just going to stumble on your sister in Aegir?"

"Of course not," Ferdinand huffed. "I have to try, though. My father's estate is there. With luck, there may be information in there pointing in her direction. Record of payments for hush money, perhaps."

"Makes sense," Hapi said. "I was worried you were just gonna walk in there and think she'd be drawn to your noble virtues or something."

He chuckled. "You think me so naïve, Hapi?" His grin betrayed his amusement.

"Well, Ferdie, I saw you smooching with Lozzy. You clearly have an affinity for drawing noble folk to you."

"Lozzy?" Ferdinand asked, before realization dawned. "Ah. Pardon, but that one doesn't make sense."

"He's got a Z in his name."

"So Lozzy?"

"So Lozzy."

"Constance," Ferdinand said, shaking his head. "Spare me trying to figure out your paramour's thought process."

She sighed, hoping the conversation wouldn't turn to her. "They...make sense in her mind," Constance breathed. Hapi stuck her tongue out at Constance. "Ferdinand...are you...nervous?"

"About what?"

"Your sister." Constance closed her eyes, the sun's gaze growing unbearable. Hapi's gaze was fixed on her, noticing. She persisted, to the best of her ability. "Do you not think it will bring more pain by meeting her? Surely she harbors no kind will towards your father...and by extension, yourself." The girl was raised as a commoner, at least. A bastard daughter, deprived of a father and inheritance? Constance would have no love for the man who did that.

"That's a rather pessimistic approach," Ferdinand said. He shrugged. "I cannot know how she will react, I know next to nothing of her. Perhaps she shall try to kill me. Perhaps she will be glad to meet a family member. I have never had a sibling, so I am at a loss as to what to expect."

Hapi nodded. "Makes sense to me. Don't mind Coco's cheery disposition, she doesn't like the sun."

Constance didn't deny it. Ferdinand turned Hapi. "Have you any siblings, Hapi?"

"Nope," she said, popping the syllable. "Just Hapi. No family, no name, just me."

"And you, Constance?" he asked, softer. "Did you have siblings before the tragedy?"

"Two," she murmured. "An older brother and sister. I'm oldest now, since they're dead, bodies burned in Nuvelle." The memory of finding Conrad's body broke her resolve, the heat of the day crushing the rest in her moment of weakness.

"Coco…" Hapi murmured.

"It is in the past," she brushed aside. Constance said no more after that.

Ferdinand glanced at Hapi, a question in his eyes. Hapi took one last look at her lover before sighing, turning to Ferdinand.

"Coco doesn't do well in the sun. She's like a flower, except the opposite of one. Prefers night time, or indoors," Hapi explained.

His discomfort at talking about Constance so close to her fell away with curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"Happened a year ago," Hapi said, biting her lip. "My fault, really. I had this…condition." She paused. "Eh, fuck it. Should tell you. I was a test subject for some people. They fucked me up. Whenever I'd sigh, monsters would appear."

"Are you kidding?"

"Yeah, sounds like a punchline. Anywho, Coco figured out a way to fix me. And it worked, kinda. I can sigh, but if I use too much of my Dark magic I summon a monster. Much easier to manage, trust me." She looked away. "Turns out whatever is inside of me rebounded on Coco. Now, in the sun, she gets like this."

Constance could feel his eyes on her. She did not look up.

"That isn't either of your faults. That's poor luck," Ferdinand said.

Hapi scoffed. "Easy for you to say. Coco tries to help me and I get her all screwed up in return. Appreciate the words, Ferdie, but it ain't that simple."

"Of course, I'm sorry," Ferdinand said, bowing his head. "Constance, I apologize to you as well."

Constance said nothing.

"Leave it be, Ferdie," Hapi sighed.

"Should we travel by night instead?" Ferdinand asked. "It would not bother me."

Hapi opened her mouth to tell him to move on, and paused. "You know, that'd help her. She doesn't talk much like this, so take my word for it. Let's rest for the day soon, then switch over."

"Is that agreeable to you, Constance?" Ferdinand asked.

She nodded, weakly.

"Then we have an accord. That forest ahead, let us make camp there and wait for nightfall," Ferdinand suggested.

Hapi looked at him with approval, then glanced at Constance with a small smile. She tried to return it to the best of her ability.

Ignatz sat at Nader's fire, which apparently was an honor.

On campaigns, generals usually shared a campfire in the evenings. If anyone of lower rank was invited to join, it was a sign of the trust extended toward that person.

Though, Ignatz thought, perhaps it was just a factor that he didn't speak the language. Hard of him to be a spy when Nader and his commanders conversed in Alymran.

Eventually, it became late enough that they all left. So all that remained were Nader and Ignatz, sitting around the fire, a blanket of stars above them in the clearing.

"We're two days out," Nader said, switching languages. "Not sure if we'll end up getting the drop on them, but it's worth trying."

"What did the rest of them think about me?" Ignatz asked, gesturing to the empty seats. "To my involvement in the plan?"

"They've all been on the receiving end of Leicester arrows. They trust you're a good shot," Nader said.

"I meant do they trust a Fódlani?"

Nader frowned. "They trust you because I do. Whatever their reservations, I am their commanding officer. They obey."

"Is that why you invited me to your fire?" Ignatz asked. "To make a show of trusting me?"

"Clever," Nader complimented, approving. "Yeah. Spots around a general's fire are reserved for important officers, trusted friends, and family. I don't think they knew which I was claiming you as, but it would be improper to ask."

"After meeting you and Claude's mother, I wouldn't have thought propriety was a high concern for Almyrans," Ignatz said honestly.

"It's not, except for when it comes to war. Then there are rules that are followed," Nader said. "Of course, if they took serious issue with it, they could challenge me to an honor duel. Everyone of acceptable rank has the power to challenge their superiors."

"That sounds dangerous to keeping order."

"Agreed, which is why it rarely happens. More a deterrent from higher ups thinking they can't be touched." Nader chuckled. "You get a lot less sacrificial strategies when your subordinates can object by trying to kill you."

"Well, I'm glad no one tried to kill you over me sitting here," Ignatz said idly, though fascinated by it. "So if you had family, they'd sit here as well even if they aren't military minds?"

"Yes. And they do, when with me," Nader said.

"I didn't know you had a family," Ignatz said.

"Used to have a husband," Nader said, a note of sadness passing through his voice. "He passed away a few years ago. But I still have a daughter."

"Too young to be here?" Ignatz asked.

"Too old," he laughed. "Girl's off leading her own armies in eastern Almyra, making a name for herself. Could have brought her with, but she's got plenty to do. And doesn't know Khalid like I do." His smile lingered, thinking about his family. "What about you, Ig? Got a family aside from those feisty ladies who are always looking out for you?"

Ignatz wisely decided not to mention that descriptor to Catherine and Shamir when he next saw them. "Yeah, back in Leicester."

"Parents? Siblings?"

"Parents, an older brother, two younger sisters. Twins," he explained. "I write the twins letters when I can, but hard to do lately on the road."

Nader was too observant to miss the implication. "Not to your parents though? Or brother?"

"Just not close to my parents," Ignatz shrugged. "Spent more time taking care of the girls instead of them doing so. My brother is the heir to the Victor Merchant Company, so they keep him close. The rest of us were left alone."

"And your brother?"

"He's very…assured about his position in our family," Ignatz said, delicately.

"So he's an ass?" Nader translated.

That drew a tired chuckle. "Yeah, that's apt."

"Blood family isn't what it's cut out to be, always," Nader said while shrugging. "My daughter isn't my blood, but she's family. You think you'll ever try to bridge that gap with them?"

Ignatz shrugged. He gestured to his leg. "They weren't ecstatic about my injury, since it's pretty hard to be a crippled knight."

"You're serious?" Nader said, aghast. "Do they know everything you're doing for Khalid? Traveling the world as an ambassador, fighting this war, all of it?"

"They had a plan for me, and this injury doesn't really work into it," Ignatz said. "I've tried to talk to them, but they aren't very receptive. Just wanted me to be a knight in a noble's service."

"And your sisters?"

"Absolute gems," he said, smiling. "They think the world of me. I never doubted them for a second."

"Wait, backtracking," Nader said, frowning. "They aren't happy with your profession, then? How the hell does that factor it? Ambassador ranks quite a bit higher up than knight. Or am I missing Fódlan nuance?"

"Knights in service to a lord generally can influence trade deals," Ignatz said. "It's not uncommon that intelligent knights will be tasked with negotiating contracts in a lord's stead, due to how busy they get. I think my parents wanted me to help them expand the business."

"That's fucking stupid," Nader grunted. "Those two women, Catherine and Shamir, know about it?"

"Yeah."

"That why they're so protective of you?"

"It's part of it, no doubt."

Nader shook his head. "Your country's always confused me. Not like Almyra doesn't have its own problems, but that's some bizarre logic for parenting. All parents fuck their kids up a bit, but damn, that's treating you like a means to an end."

"You were a bad parent?" Ignatz asked, catching the implication.

"Not intentionally. Just hard on a kid with a parent in the military," Nader said. "Her other father was there for her, thankfully, but we weren't very close for a long time. Took Pedram's death to bring us closer."

"I'm sure she's thankful to have you, Nader," Ignatz said.

"And I'm sure your sisters are glad to have you," Nader said.

They let their conversation turn to a comfortable silence after that, the noises of crickets and crackling fire keeping them company.

Enbarr, city by the sea.

Petra had lived there primarily for most of the past five years, but it was still breathtaking to approach from afar. Similar to Derdriu, water was integrated into the city's design. Except where Derdriu only used canals, Enbarr made use of aqueducts in addition to them.

"So, this plan," Petra murmured, the two of them standing atop a hill outside the city. "How are you going to get a message to Hanneman."

"We have two options," Lysithea said. "One, you sneak into his office and leave him a message. Two, I leave him a note where we used to pass messages at."

"I take it there's a reason we're not just going with option two?" Petra asked.

"I have no guarantee he will continue to look there while he knows I'm out of the city," Lysithea said. "I could try, but we—"

"Don't bother, I'll sneak in," Petra said. "If you think this is our best chance, I'll do it."

"I do," Lysithea said. "But I don't want to make you do something you won't be safe doing."

Petra snorted. "Everything is unsafe. We're rebels. But I agree we need someone on the inside, someone who can lure Hubert out."

That was their grand plan, a mouse in a trap. Bait Hubert out, then take care of him in a location on their terms. They'd only have one chance. If Petra was discovered, Hubert would put the pieces together. Cold as he was, the man was nothing short of brilliant.

"Thank you," Lysithea said. "For trusting me with this."

"Hubert has to die, if we're going to kill Edelgard." Petra noticed Lysithea's flinch and frowned. "You told me you would do it."

"Imagine if you had to kill Ignatz," Lysithea spat.

Petra looked away. "No, I do not think this is similar. He did not wage this war. He does not threaten my people with genocide. I think it is entirely opposite."

"Look," Lysithea tried. "I love her. Loved her. It's not something I can just ignore."

"Then I will kill her," Petra said, face hard. "Give me an opening, and I will drive the knife in her heart."

Lysithea closed her eyes. "That makes me no less guilty."

"No, but it saves my home. It saves Fódlan. That balances the scales."

"And all I must do is be complicit in my wife's death," Lysithea whispered.

Petra grabbed her by the collar. "Make up your mind! I am not having this any longer. You claim to care about Linhardt, yes? Then your duty is clear."

Lysithea was too shocked to respond.

"I see you struggle with this, because you were lucky to not see what this world has become," Petra seethed. "That woman has killed more than anyone else. Starting this war was a death sentence. To hell with love. To hell with ideals. Killing her saves more than we could ever guess."

Tears trickled down her cheeks. "I know…but how do I kill the one person who ever saw me for me?"

Petra's lips tightened. "You let me kill her. It's the only way you and I can atone for what we've done." Her grip loosened on Lysithea's collar. "Let us end this, before another Linhardt must die."

Lysithea nodded, shaking, not meeting her eyes. Petra accepted that as a response. "Good. Write your note to Hanneman. I will infiltrate the castle at nightfall."

Cowed, she did just that.

"C'mon, Bernie," she muttered to herself. Her legs could barely carry them, much less run. Her gait was staggered, each step an achievement in and of itself.

The Leicester war camp was in her sights, even as the sun had nearly set. She was close, so close. Had to get to Yuri. Had to get Indech help.

"Just…little longer," she breathed, a vain attempt at encouraging herself.

Bernadetta's leg fell out from under her, collapsing under the stress of exhaustion and Indech. She caught herself, more or less, falling only to a knee.

Her voice came out raspy as she shouted, knowing she'd not make it. "Help!"

The Goddess, if she existed, smiled on her. Two unknowing souls walking along the outside of the camp stopped, hearing her cry. Bernadetta waved a hand, trying to catch their attention while the few wisps of sunlight still lingered. "Healer!" she tried yelling, descending into a cough instead.

The two began to run her direction. Satisfied, she let herself fall to the ground, Indech laying on top of her.

"Bernadetta!"

Wait, she knew that voice.

She forced her eyes open, seeing Seteth on the ground beside her, the redheaded merchant from Garreg Mach beside him. The woman's hands were already out, a pulse of radiant White magic at her fingertips.

"Healer," she croaked, fighting for consciousness. "For him."

"For…" Seteth began, looking at the man. Recognition flared in his eyes. "Indech!"

Bernadetta's mind was beyond comprehending the fact that they knew each other, though it would come back to her later. The Saint stirred, Seteth's voice waking him.

Her mind wasn't so far gone as to not notice what Indech called Seteth.

"Cichol?"

He was…drifting. Like at sea, when he'd take a dip on vacation in Derdriu.

His sister always teased him about that, how for all his brawn, he preferred to just float in the water. Such a slacker, she'd call him.

But he'd liked the feeling, the weightlessness of being carried by the waves. Sometimes, he'd specifically go swimming just to think.

This was like that, though everything was dark. Why was it dark? He was awake, was he not? Voices came to him, a dull roar not far from him. Hurried conversation. Stressed people speaking harshly. Familiar voices, even.

His eyes, he realized, were closed. How long had it been since he'd opened them? How long had he been…like this?

The forest, he remembered. That was the last time. That creature…

No, he decided. It could wait. The soldier within him would not tolerate another minute spent like this.

Holst opened his eyes.

Author Notes: So that Ignatz scene is actually a follow up to a scene like, sixty chapters ago where Ig writes a letter to his family after he gets injured and doesn't tell them about it. I meant to tie this in waaaaay long ago, but May forgot. Oops.

Editing Notes:
9/23/2021: Made changes to the Constance scene to more explicitly show her struggling with the sun.
2/16/2022: Minor grammatical adjustments.