Two weeks passed, and the storm finally cleared up.

Merceus, at long last, had calmed. The Almyrans returned to the fold, and the last vestiges of Imperial resistance around the fort had long been quelled. The prisons of Merceus were filled, and the time had come to continue.

In Victor von Bergliez' office, the leaders of the Alliance and Coalition gathered to orchestrate what would be the final plan going forward.

Catherine sat in the windowsill of the room, her torso still heavily bandaged and her arm in a sling. Despite her lingering wounds, she was alert. She wore an easy smile, one that had taken hold after Shamir pulled her off the battlefield.

Byleth stood next to her second. Though she did not carve the imposing figure that her father had, she was still captain of the Knights of Seiros. She'd still yet to talk to Claude about the kiss, but no one would have known at her unperturbed expression.

Seteth sat in a chair, not far from her. He was at ease, calm. The half-cape he wore over his missing arm was gone, it having gone to bandage a soldier's wound. But he didn't shy away from having it displayed.

Ignatz leaned on a crutch, still very much recovering. Spiderweb scars twisted and writhed across his body from where the lightning from Arundel had struck. They'd fade but never disappear. Despite that, he had a glow to him of accomplishment.

Lorenz drummed his fingers impatiently next to the wooden desk. He'd been on edge ever since Ferdinand had gone to Aegir. He'd not admit that was the reason, but everyone knew it.

Nader sat opposite him, lounging in his chair. He, like Ignatz, carried a tiredness that sapped at his strength. His eyes idly flicked to each person in the room, unconscious reflexes from so many battles.

Tucked in the corner, Yuri stood with their arms folded. Absently, he picked at a bandage on their arm, more a nervous tick than anything else. They didn't like sitting still, after all.

The door opened and their final member strode in. Claude, running a hand through his hair, stepped in. "Pardon for the wait," he apologized, making for the seat at the desk.

There was a murmur of response as Claude took his seat. He looked around the room, at their various expressions, and paused.

"Something wrong?" Lorenz finally asked.

"Forgive me," Claude said, half chuckling to himself. "I just…it makes me sad. Great people are in this room, brilliant people. We're gathered, united, not to cure the sick, help the needy, or educate the masses. We're spending our greatness making war, killing people of similar caliber on the other side." He sighed. "Imagine if we could work together."

Of all people, it was Catherine who spoke up. She cleared her throat and said, "Then let's make sure this next battle is the last."

On that, they all agreed.

Constance had never been to Aegir before.

Unlike Bergliez, the city wasn't surrounded with a huge wall. Or rather, the entire city wasn't. Slums extended past the city's walls, an overflow of those who could not afford to live within its walls or simply just had been pushed out.

In and of itself, that wasn't unusual, she figured. Ferdinand explained the night before that most cities in the Empire were like that. Bergliez was the anomaly.

It felt like something of a douse of cold water for Constance, that she didn't know as much about the land of her birth as she thought she did. And why would she? Nuvelle had fallen when she was young and she'd lived in Faerghus and Abyss since. She was a stranger to her home.

When she'd voiced such feelings to Hapi, the woman just put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug. It wasn't something she could understand, having lived the life she had in small towns and a cage.

Not knowing better, she'd thought that perhaps the slums were meant to be empty, devoid of all life. Sure, it didn't make sense, but she ought to grow more comfortable with admitting ignorance.

One look at Ferdinand had told her otherwise.

"There should be people everywhere," he whispered, horrified, as their horses trotted down one of the main roads to the city. "Even if it were raining, there shouldn't…"

Constance looked up in the sky, flinching at the summer sun boring down on here. "Maybe they're all dead."

"Not helping, Coco," Hapi muttered, glancing at Ferdinand. Louder, she said, "Maybe they're just in the city, Ferdie."

"Maybe," he echoed, far from confident. "My people…I turned my back on them…"

Constance didn't know much about Ferdinand, admittedly. He'd been an imperial noble, then turned coat. A small voice, her real voice, tried to get her to assuage his fears. But the darkness in her wouldn't have it.

Hapi changed the subject. "Regardless, we need to get inside the city. Gates look closed." She pointed ahead, where the tall and imposing gates were shut. "So you got another way in, Ferdie?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "Let's stop to rest, I'll give it some thought."

They stopped on the road, stepping into an abandoned house. Hapi broke off from them to scout around for anything.

Constance breathed in reprieve from the sun, feeling like her old self in seconds. "Ferdinand, if you've naught for ways to enter, I may have an idea."

"Oh?" he said, interested and happy to have distraction from the hauntingly empty house.

"Quite simply, magic," she said, proudly. "Wind magic, to be precise."

When he stared at her blankly, she sighed dramatically. "Ferdinand, have you ever seen the use of expert wind magic?"

He shook his head and she huffed. "Well, then I shall be surprising you! I am quite accomplished in aeromancy, I'll have you know! Without a doubt, I will be able to spirit us up the wall with but a few gusts of wind."

"I've seen plenty of magic," Ferdinand said, wary. "But I fail to see how wind can get us up a wall."

"You must have faith in me!" Constance insisted. "In the School of Sorcery, I was called the Mistress of Tempests, I'll have you know."

Hapi, as if on cue, poked her head in and said, "Didn't you give yourself that nickname?"

"So what? They all called me it before the end," she said, proud.

Hapi shook her head with a light smile. "If you think you can, I'm all for it. I looked around, there's genuinely no one here."

Ferdinand flinched. "Then we must get into the city and discover what is afoot."

Constance stood up with a wide smile. "Then you need only follow me, Ferdinand. I shall see us into the city and to your sister!"

It took them fifteen minutes to arrive at the wall, to which Constance, bathed in sun, said, "This is impossible." She stared up at the stone walls with a deathly pale expression.

"I got this," Hapi said, walking up to her lover.

That left Ferdinand alone. He stepped a few paces away to give the couple some privacy. His hand brushed against the wall, the cool stone damp from the rain the night before.

He'd been prepared to come home, but standing at the walls reminded him what he already knew. This wasn't home anymore. His place was with Lorenz, with the Deer.

A pang rang through his chest. They'd finally confessed their feelings, and he'd had to leave. He blushed at the thought of the night they spent together, of the finally voiced feelings they'd released into each other's worlds. For the first time in a long time, he felt confident about what was to come.

His mind drifted to what would come after, to Lorenz, to the future. To Claude…

Ferdinand sighed. He still had to face the man over having kept the truth about Byleth hidden. He'd not confronted Ferdinand about it, so there was a chance it'd slipped his mind. Though admittedly, it wasn't Claude's emotions that wracked him with anxiety. It was his own guilt over it.

"Alright," Hapi called. "She's ready."

Constance, to her credit, held her head up higher. But she still bit her lip and looked at the walls nervously. "I…I have no guarantee this will work."

"If it doesn't, we can always come up with something else," Ferdinand offered. He pushed his feelings down, those he dwelled on and the reality of his sister he'd hopefully soon meet.

"She's got this," Hapi said, squeezing the woman's hand. "I'll go first."

Which was good, because Ferdinand still had no idea what was about to happen. Constance raised a hand and he could feel wind begin to brush against him. Not a gentle breeze, light and fluffy. No, it was something with texture. Hard. Firm. With strength.

While Constance concentrated, Hapi explained, "She's going to make something of a staircase for us. Out of wind."

"How is such a thing possible?" Ferdinand asked, confused.

"She's cocky, but she's not lying about how talented she is," Hapi said, fondly. "Follow my lead."

"It's ready," Constance mumbled.

Wind was, in and of itself, invisible. One couldn't see wind, like the other elements, so it looked like Hapi stepped forward into nothing.

Except her foot made contact with an opposing force. Gingerly, she put her weight onto her foot and stood in the air. She took another step forward and wind caught her foot again, holding her up like she were climbing a staircase.

Ferdinand's mouth dropped open.

"We're fighting against people who can turn people into zombies, who can turn people into demonic beasts, and this is what shocks you?" Hapi asked with half a grin.

Admonished, Ferdinand tentatively stepped forward and found himself held up in the air. He glanced at Hapi nervously, then looked back to Constance.

"After you," she bid.

Hapi began climbing the stairs of air, and he followed.

Leonie heard him return before she saw him. He laid down beside her on the cliff's edge, looking down at the port.

"It's as we guessed," he murmured. "Lord Hevring is being held prisoner. I found a man who'd been in his personal guard. Told me a few of them escaped."

"You ask to get in touch with them?" she asked.

"Yeah, but he was scared. Said he'd think about it." Balthus sighed. "Maybe once they leave, he'll open up."

They being the Death Knight and his army. Coming down from Faerghus, the imperial army were busy boarding ships to sail to Enbarr. Word of Merceus had brushed through the city and instead of staying to keep the populace in check, they were leaving.

That left Leonie and Balthus to figure out how the hell to liberate Hevring. They gone under the assumption that Remus von Hevring was in control, and the truth about Linhardt would change things. But, as fate would have it, things would be more difficult.

"Any word on this Chilon who is ruling?" she asked.

"Man said he arrived from the Empire and took over. Didn't know anything about him." Balthus brightened. "I did hear where Hevring's being kept."

Leonie broke her gaze away from the departing army. "The dungeons?"

"No, he's in his room. House arrest, more or less," Balthus said. "He was giving orders from his window with bedsheets of all things, for a time. But apparently the imperials found out, put tighter guard on him. Still in there, though, from what people can tell."

"Who was he giving orders to?" she asked.

He grinned. "I thought you'd pick up on that. Turns out there's something of a resistance movement here."

Leonie grinned back.

"You sure you want to come with?" Hilda asked, sitting at the side of his bed.

Holst nodded resolutely. "This injury isn't going to keep me back. I said I'd see this campaign through, and I meant it."

He still couldn't walk and had been in the healer's tent for the duration of their stay at Merceus. It was…hard.

Hilda sighed. "Look, I'm not gonna tell you're wrong for that. I just thought you'd be more comfortable at the Locket, or something."

She was just trying to help. He knew that, but by the Goddess did he hate being trapped in this bed. He'd sooner go to the Eternal Flames than abandon his friends, his people. No, he was here to stay.

"I appreciate it, sister," he said. She rested a hand on his hand for comfort, something he could actually feel.

She said her goodbyes soon, duties calling her away elsewhere. When she left, his companion spoke up.

"You've a caring sister, general," Indech said, sitting up in his bed. He'd slowly been gaining some color back to his skin, having been so pale when brought in.

His cheer fell away, the mask he put on for her vanishing. "I try not to make her worry."

"Quite the older brother," Indech chuckled. "I wish I had a sibling."

"You do?"

"Hm? Oh yes," Indech said, excitedly. The man was nothing like Holst expected after he'd come in near comatose. He had a mind for stories, often telling Holst the most fanciful tales as they lay alone in the respective beds. "It was just myself and my parents, in my youth. It was lovely, but I always wondered what a sibling would be like."

He hummed, not much one for talking these days. It was why they worked well together. Holst didn't want to talk, and Indech seemed to have been holding back a fount of words for years. The man was quite the chatterbox. Though Holst wasn't up for talking most days, Indech babbled on. Somehow, it worked between them.

"You know," Indech said. "There's something I might be able to do to help you."

"What?" Holst asked, closing his eyes wearily.

"I know you don't believe I am who I am," Indech said. "But us Nabateans have…curious blood."

"What's a Nabatean?" Holst asked, humoring the man.

Indech laughed. "Oh dear, this is going to be hard to explain. Hm. Let's turn this into an example, why don't we? You are familiar with the former leader of the Knights of Seiros, are you not?"

"What does Jeralt have to do with anything?" Holst said, far too tired to indulge him today.

"More the nature of Jeralt's condition than anything. After some near twenty years, Seteth tells me he returned to Garreg Mach. You know what was odd about that?"

Holst said nothing, just waiting.

"He looked the same as he did all those years ago!" Indech laughed. "Quite the curious state of circumstances, no? A man, mortal as any, not aging."

"I'm sure he was just lucky to have aged well," Holst argued.

"A man not fading from his prime? Not showing any further stress on his body? No, I'd argue this was not the case," Indech said. "Indeed, he was akin to a stopped moment in time, like he had not aged in twenty years or so. You know why that is?"

"I assume you're going to tell me?"

"Rhea gave him some of her blood, when he was injured. He was healed completely," Indech said, quietly. "She was like me. Nabatean."

"And what does that have to do with…" Holst said, his eyes opening as he glanced over at Indech.

"Not aging is a price of its own," Indech murmured, more to himself. "A curse, perhaps…"

"Are you just telling another story?" Holst asked.

"Everything's a story," Indech laughed. "This one just happens to be a true one."

"I can't wield them," Seteth admitted, holding out the gear. "They're the last of the holy weapons I retrieved. I trust you with them, and you're able."

Anna tentative reached out and took the Sword and Shield of Seiros. The shield was round, glowing with a faint light. She'd some experience with shields, admittedly. The sword, however, had the strangest blade, almost like a zigzagging line.

"If you don't want them, you need not take them," Seteth said, sensing her reluctance. Thankfully they were in her tent, away from prying eyes. "I just thought you might like something to defend yourself with and they were just sitting around…"

"Why me?" Anna asked, confused. "I mean, I don't fight on the front lines. I manage supply lines. Wouldn't this be better in someone else's hands?"

Seteth nodded. "Possibly, but I've no one else to trust them with. I thought perhaps Felix…" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I'll admit I hoped you'd take them to protect yourself with."

"Protect myself?" she asked.

He blushed, lightly. Later, she'd laugh about it. A thousand-something year old man, still getting flustered. She liked it, reminded her that age was just a number. He was still a person like any other.

"Well, I," he fumbled over his words, "care about you. Since they're unused, I thought they might help you out if battle spreads out into our camp or something."

"You're sweet, you know that?" Anna said, her smile returning. "I appreciate the thought. I'll take them."

"Excellent," Seteth said, beaming. "I'm sure it's needless worrying at this point, but after seeing the Elites…"

Anna shivered. She'd not seen them, but the people who had fought at Merceus talked about more Deadlords, the ten Elites risen to fighting in Fódlan once more. In life they'd been warriors on par with only each other. Now, they'd fight them in Enbarr.

"You're right, if the worst comes, they'll come in handy," Anna said. She brushed a hand against his, a silent word of thanks.

Seteth's smile turned gentler, and they spent the next few hours enjoying each other's company.

"Hey, you've been hiding from everyone."

Bernadetta knew that voice better than her own. "I suppose I have."

Yuri sat down next to her and wrapped their arm around her shoulders as they sat on the edge of camp as night fell. Merceus was behind them now, and Enbarr in the future. Before long, they'd be at the city by the sea.

"Something you want to talk about?" Yuri asked, holding her.

"I…I guess it's just odd to be here now," she admitted. "I was everyone's enemy, for five years."

"Who said that?" they asked, protectively. "Is someone giving you trouble?"

"Just my own head," she chuckled, tapping her forehead. "I see the looks people give me."

Yuri bit their lip. "Bernadetta, you were a spy for us. Don't let anyone make you ashamed of that."

"You…know that isn't entirely true," she whispered.

Yuri said nothing.

"Yuri…" she whispered. "No, never mind."

"I understand," he said.

She'd only turned spy a few years ago—not at the start of the war. And that had been as a favor to a friend who was now more.

If she'd been loyal, could she have helped Caspar? Could she have saved him?

"If you want to talk about it, I'm here," they said, kissing her on the cheek.

"Thank you."

Byleth's hand brushed against his as she moved some of the maps around on the table. They both stopped, looking at their hands.

They looked at each other before Claude finally said, "Byleth…"

She nodded, knowing what was coming. "We should…"

He thought about gesturing for her to sit on his bed with him, but the bore all the implications he didn't necessarily want to send. Instead, he took a seat in his chair, and she did the same.

"You first," she quickly said.

"I…" He stopped himself, taking care to think over his words. "I won't lie to you, By, I care about you so much. But I don't want to make you do something you don't want to."

She said nothing, just watching him.

"Would you rather it hadn't happened?" he asked, spitting out the words he feared.

Byleth shook her head immediately. "No. I think… No, I know I care about you too. I'm just scared."

"Scared?"

"Of us becoming like Mercedes and I."

His heart softened. "Oh, Byleth."

"I don't want…to screw something up like that again," she said, looking down. "It was my fault. My problems that ruined us. If you and I are…something, then I don't want to mess that up."

He reached forward and took her hand that lingered on the table. "I won't force you into anything, By. You take as long as you need. I…" Love you, he didn't say. "I want to be with you, but that's second to me wanting you to be okay."

She grabbed his hand and looked at him. There was an emotion in her eyes, one he couldn't place that fell between love, adoration, and admiration. In that singular moment, he felt like he was the only human in the world—no, in Byleth's world.

"Thank you," she choked out, squeezing his hand like a lifeline.

He returned it, smiling, and said, "That's what friends are for. Understanding."

"He seem any better?" Marianne asked as they walked to their tent.

Hilda sighed. "No, he's still angsty. Which, sure, I get, I just wish I could do more to help him."

Marianne pulled Hilda closer to her. "With injuries like this, I fear the only person that can truly help is them. Support does go a long way to making that possible, though."

Her wife reached up and poked her nose. "You're so smart, Marianne."

The woman chuckled lightly. "Just experienced."

"I'm gonna go back and see him again. See you at our tent?" Hilda asked, giving her a hug.

"Sounds good," Marianne said, returning it. She watched Hilda scamper off, wondering how she'd gotten so lucky to marry such an incredible woman.

"Thank you, Goddess," Marianne whispered. They were words she found herself saying more often, these days. And they felt good compared to the prayers she used to say.

Gone was the disgust those prayers made her feel. Now, they felt kinder. Lighter. She wasn't sure on the proper word, but she walked taller these days. Hilda had pointed it out, telling her how proud she was.

Though she wouldn't admit it, that meant more than anything to Marianne.

She hummed to herself as she got back to her tent. Slipping inside, she conjured a small flame to give her light until she could light the candle.

But the candle in the tent was already lit, and a man sat in the chair near it.

"Hello, daughter," Alister von Edmond greeted.

Author Notes: From here on out, all our POV locations aren't necessarily happening congruently, that is, not all at once in the great timeline of events. Things will clearly line up down the road, but this allows for optimal pacing. If I've planned everything right, we should be hitting cliffhangers for a lot of these chapters. There's gonna be a lot happening as so many conflicts finally come to a head after so long.

Editing Notes:
2/22/2022: Minor grammatical adjustments.