Myson's finger drummed on the Chalice as he overlooked his work in his laboratory. His mighty Deadlords, the eight remaining Elites. While Goneril and Charon had expired at Merceus, he was confident in the rest.
And, well, the newest addition.
Myson stepped up to Nemesis and grinned. The man stood half a foot taller than Myson, who himself was rather tall. Death had not decayed the warlord's muscles or skill, at least not beyond what Myson could fix.
"My creation, my magnum opus," Myson whispered, staring at the impassive king of eld. "I cannot wait to see what you're capable of."
Speech seemed to be beyond the man, so he said nothing. Not that he would have spoken regardless. The Deadlords were Myson's trained hounds of war. Should he will it, they'd pitch themselves from the highest cliffs.
"You have your orders," he called out to the nine. Nine ashen faces, nine faux-Relics, nine legends straight out of stories. "Defend the city at all costs. Kill any interlopers."
In unison, salutes. Men and women who had died a millennia ago snapped into their military roles as if it had been but a day.
Myson smirked as they filed out, and he sat back down in his chair. The laboratory was a large room, his desk tucked away in a corner. He set the Chalice down onto it and brushed aside some of his papers. Myson reached out his hand to it.
There was the familiar sound of teleportation magic behind him, like a fizzling fire in a rainstorm. Groaning, he turned his chair around. "Must you always appear there?"
Cornelia laughed in that villainess way she always did, haughty and undeserving. He detested it, almost as much as he detested that by some series of events, he and she were the last major Agarthan leadership.
"Have to keep you on your toes, darling," she said, reaching forward to run her fingers down his lapel. He did not flinch, he never flinched. This witch was all the same tricks, no innovation.
"What the hell do you want?" he said, not hiding his annoyance. "I have a fight here, in case you've still had you head in the sand."
Cornelia sauntered over to his desk and sat down on it, leaning forward enough to give him ample view of her cleavage. She wanted something, that much was clear. Annoying.
"I've come to borrow that," she said, eyes lingering on the Chalice. "I've recovered my…long lost test subject."
The scientist in Myson was admittedly intrigued by the admission, but he was no fool. "Denied. If you think I've come this far only to hand it away on the cusp of accomplishing everything, you're more a fool than I thought."
Cornelia threw her head back and laughed. It was a sharp sound, like breaking glass. The kind that made your eardrums bleed. How this pathetic wretch had ever seduced men was beyond him.
"Oh, Myson, sweet Myson," she crowed. "I wasn't asking for permission."
Both of them acted. Dark spikes emerged from the floor around Myson's chair, stopping a hairsbreadth from his neck. Opposite, a sigil appeared around Cornelia's neck, one that would warp space if triggered.
"Well," she said, entirely unperturbed. "You're still a naughty boy, Myson."
"And you're still an eleventh-hour thief," Myson snarled. "Taking the credit for Faerghus from me was one thing, but this? No, I found the Chalice. I will not allow you to take it."
"I did the work in Faerghus," Cornelia said. "You just laid a little groundwork."
"I destabilized—"
"No, honey, you spent too much time in Duscur for that. I don't care whether you killed the king himself. To she who orchestrates the death, go the spoils." Cornelia drummed her fingers on the desk, as if neither were less than an inch away from death.
Because the annoying truth was that they still needed each other. And the very annoying truth was that after Fódlan fell, war would ensue between the both of them.
"Go back to your experiments," Myson said. "I won't bother you." It was an olive branch, as much as they could have such a thing between them.
"Hmm," Cornelia pretended to think about it. "I decline. I'm not leaving without that Chalice." Her fingers, still drumming, were close to it.
He noticed. "And I fail to see how you will accomplish that."
"Oh, it's easy." Cornelia showed him a full set a teeth in a vicious smile. "If you come after me, I'll delay you. If you're not here for your final battle, whatever shall happen to your holdings here? You may recover the Chalice, but at the cost of what you worked for."
"You wicked bitch," he snarled.
"Bitch, no. Wicked, yes," Cornelia chuckled. "I'm afraid my dear little Hapi needs the best I can give her. She's been tampered with, and that just will not do."
"I don't care."
"Pity, I do. That girl is like a daughter to me, and I will not allow anything to come between her and her destiny, least of all vermin like you," Cornelia huffed. "You think you're just so smart, that you hold all the cards. But my dear, you have gotten lax with these paltry opponents. Too used to being the mastermind that you can't fathom being outdone. Now, Myson, this can go either of two ways. One, you let me take it."
"And two?" he growled.
Her fingers shot out and grabbed the Chalice as she teleported, Myson's sigil going off a second too late as he was caught off guard.
"Fuck!" he yelled, leaping up and knocking his chair back. "You stupid, stupid woman…" He was halfway through the spell to teleport to her before he stopped. Horns blowing in the distance. The Alliance army was here. Going to Aegir would mean going to that woman's lair.
"Woman, I'll kill you for this, I swear it," he muttered, dropping the spell.
Across the continent, a woman laughed at his misfortune.
Ferdinand watched Constance fume silently as Murphy pointed towards a small building that bordered Castle Aegir's walls. "We can scale the walls there. At least I can."
That drew his attention. "You can scale stone like that? It's near sheer."
Murphy shrugged. "Done it before. Not that special."
Cleo chimed in, standing far from Constance. "I don't think the rest of us can do that, dear."
"Yeah, but I can get in, then open the way," Murphy said.
"Absolutely not," Cleo said. "You can't put yourself in danger like that."
"Yeah well, that girl needs our help. It ain't really up for—"
The mother and daughter bickered, while Ferdinand turned to Constance. He put a hand on her shoulder and she looked into his eyes. "We'll find her."
"Will we?" Constance asked, terrified amidst her anger.
"Yes," Ferdinand said. "Have hope. In times of darkness, that's the most important thing to hold onto. It's our torch in the night."
She nodded, not fully convinced, but calmed to a degree. He asked, "That trick with the wind that got us in the walls, could you do that again?"
He was glad he asked. She huffed and put her shoulders back. "Ferdinand, you ask me, a magical genius, if she can do something she's done before?"
He grinned, playing into it. "Yeah, I am."
"Hmph. Of course. I am Constance von Nuvelle. I'll get us in there." She stood, not looking at Cleo, and marched towards the door of the laboratory. Taking a last look back, she asked, "Coming?"
A bewildered Murphy, a sour Cleo, and a smiling Ferdinand nodded, and followed.
Hapi opened her eyes, and felt disgustingly familiar restraints on her. She lay, prostrate, on an operating table. It was all it took to tell her where she was.
Cornelia. The how, the why, they were lost on Hapi. Just the reality that could not be denied was before her.
Back, back in the den of the beast. And that was her: beast. Oh Goddess, Hapi pled, either free me or kill me. Not this again, not ever again.
Fingers brushed against Hapi's hand. She looked to her left and saw the last woman she ever wanted to see.
"Welcome home, Hapi," Cornelia purred. "Now, tell me, who has disturbed how perfect you were? You were perfection, and now you are…tainted."
Hapi spat at her, but a flash of magic knocked it aside. But Cornelia did not flinch. She only smiled.
"Now, now, none of that, my darling girl. Not when we have so much to catch up on…"
It tore her apart, hiding this from him. His eyes swept over her fully clothed body, not an inch of skin exposed past the black leathers she wore.
The worst part was that Claude's eyes told her he knew she was hiding something. And of course he did, what did she, mercenary, have to fool the man whom she loved and was cleverer than her? It would never succeed, but the alternative was scarier.
Her body was not her own. Rhea had made sure of that, like a rock rolling down a hill. Starting slow, but quickly gaining speed.
"I trust you," he finally said. Around them, soldier were running to position. Within hours, the final fight would begin. "You know that, right?"
"Yeah," she said, voice husky. Byleth met his gaze, as much as she didn't want to.
He embraced her. "Then I won't stop you. I trust that you know what you're doing."
Goddess, she wanted to cry if she weren't so terrified. As he hugged her, he continued, "You taught us to rely on each other. We've become the family we are because you pushed us to work together. I know you struggle still, but it's okay to do the same for us. We're here for you, By. All of us. Me, especially."
She broke down, sobbing. He continued to hold her, not paying attention to how public their audience was. Though none dared pay attention, they all took note.
"It's her," she confessed. It was scary, admitting it. But memories of Mercedes surfaced. Her father. Fear ate her alive, and she stood to face it. Coward she may be, but she'd fight it tooth and claw. "Rhea."
"Rhea?" Claude asked, softly.
"She's in my head. Those scales I showed you…they won't disappear." Byleth was glad for the hug, if only for that she didn't have to look her lover in the eyes.
He said nothing, and she didn't need to see him to know he was thinking. She let him.
"You have a plan, I take it?" he finally said.
"Not a good one," she laughed lightly. "Mercedes thinks she can forestall anything should it happen. But that's not a cure."
Claude finally pulled back. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You needed to focus," Byleth said. "I didn't want to worry you."
He kissed her. It was sudden, it was passionate, it was fierce. It was love, and she melted into it. When he broke it, he said, "Silly woman." His words were kind. "I will always worry about you. I love you, Byleth Eisner, and it comes with the territory. You're the moon to my stars, and I care for you so much."
"I'm sorry," she said, by reflex.
He shook his head. "None of that, By. Just let me help."
She grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him. Words were not her specialty; they never had been or would be. Actions spoke loudest, and she showed him how she felt.
In the back of her head, the tempest raged. Rhea pressed up against her mind.
Anger pain she was fire she was a metal storm the goddess of retribution and she was Immaculate and there would be no survivors no none at all just like the Red Canyon she'd ensure that all of them pay and there would be no end to her fury her grief her RAGE they would know and die and she would return this world to the hands of her mother her goddess and dispose of this wretch who occupied the vessel that should have been the Progenitor God oh how she dared to prevent her plan from coming to fruition after years and years and years and years there would be no mercy for this one for this land it would become a land bathed in fire if that was what it took if that was what it needed and she would be its harbinger all for her mother and all for—
Byleth forced it back, wincing. Claude squeezed her hands, seeing that something was wrong. She looked into his eyes and felt calm descend upon her again. Leaning forward, she kissed him gently.
"Let's win, then we'll tackle this problem. Together," Byleth said.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"I trust Mercedes with my life. If she says she can buy me time, I believe her."
Claude touched his forehead against hers. "Then I do as well."
"Let's bring a new dawn to this country," Byleth whispered.
"Together, all of us," Claude whispered.
Yuri drew their whetstone down Begalta. Final preparations for hunting their quarry: Myson. There would be nothing left to chance. Yuri would take his head. See if the bastard could heal from that.
Footsteps. Without looking up, he called, "Byleth, you ready?"
"Byleth's with the vanguard. There was a change of plans."
Yuri looked up to see Bernadetta. "Thought the plan was Byleth and I slip behind enemy lines and kill him?"
The woman shrugged. "Don't know details. But the plan changed."
"Are you sure?" Yuri asked, standing. "Myson's a foe like no other." And they'd admit that having Byleth with them would have been a calming presence.
"Trust me, I am aware," Bernadetta said with uncharacteristic anger. "I'm well aware what he's done to my grandfather. In fact, I've borrowed something from Shamir to help with that."
In her hands, the Inexhaustible, the weapon entrusted to Shamir by Seteth. Until now, it seemed, as someone with a Crest of Indech was now in their company. As if to accentuate the point, it glowed a soft white in the presence of its paired bloodline.
"I've been on the sidelines for five years," Bernadetta said. "No more. It's time to make a difference."
Yuri nodded, and the two of them got to work.
Ignatz hugged the two of them tightly. "No matter what happens, I want you both to know how much you've meant to me."
Catherine elbowed him through the hug. "Dumbass, you're not going to get killed. None of us are, you hear?"
Shamir, ever wiser, asked, "You've got a plan, don't you?"
Ignatz pulled back, looking at his surrogate parents. "I'm going after Petra."
"No way in hell," Catherine said, shaking her head. "You don't know where she is."
"She has to be here. She was in Derdriu, and we haven't seen her since. There's nowhere else I imagine she could be," Ignatz reasoned, not backing down.
"Don't pretend as if you're being coy. I know you're going to run around behind enemy lines. You're not—"
"Cath," Shamir said, stopping her. "Ig, are you sure?"
"Killing Arundel taught me something," he said. "When we fall, we rise stronger. What have I been preparing for if not to go try and find the woman I love?"
Catherine made to protest again before Shamir silenced her. "I trust you, Ignatz. If you think you can handle it, I'll believe you. I just want you to look me in the eye and tell me you'll come back alive."
He did. He stared right into her face and said, "I'm not dying here. I'll find her, and I'll be back."
She nodded. Catherine was not satisfied so easily.
"Ig," she said, trying to find words. "Fuck, Ig, I can't lose you. We can't lose you."
He hugged her. "Catherine, you trained me. You know I'm capable. I'll do this regardless, but I'd prefer your blessing."
"He's come this far," Shamir said. "Let him go further."
Catherine swore softly. "I lost my blood family. I'm not losing another, Ig."
"You won't have to," he promised. "I'll bring her back. Wherever she is, I'll find her and save her."
"And if she's fighting for them?" Catherine asked.
His heart turned to ice, but his belief warmed it; conviction burning hot. "I know she isn't," he said. "She'd never turn on us. If I need to make her see that, I will."
"Dammit," Catherine muttered. "Fine. Fine! But Ig, you're coming back. If you can't help her, you come back, you hear me?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, giving them each another hug before setting out.
"Hey, big guy," Claude said, glancing at Raphael from the plans of the city he studied.
"How does it feel?" Raphael asked. He glanced around at the fervor, the people running about as preparations finished. "We're on the cusp of your dream."
Claude shook his head. "Winning this doesn't solve it. It just removes the roadblock on the path to peace."
Raphael cocked his head. "You'll be the de facto king of Fódlan after this though, won't you? Or am I misreading this all?"
The Duke sighed. "Of Leicester and Adrestia, sure. But…"
"But?" Raphael prodded.
"King, emperor, what's the difference?" Claude asked. "Uniting the continent under one banner…that'd make me no better than her." He wanted peace, not a dominion. Freedom for people, not oligarchy.
"Edelgard?" Raphael said.
"No, Rhea," Claude answered. "She ruled Fódlan before this. We were all pawns for her. I don't begrudge Edelgard for fighting her. I wish she'd just talked to us before it all. Maybe we could have worked together."
Raphael said nothing.
"I don't think I'm meant to be a king," Claude admitted. "Once this war is over…I've a lot of thoughts for what might suit Fódlan best, and Almyra. Republic, democracy, something that gives the power to the people."
"Whatever you do, Claude, we'll follow you," Raphael said. He put a hand on his shoulder. "We trust you. Believe in you. Whatever you feel is right, we'll support you."
Claude smiled. "Thanks, big guy. Raph, you know, I don't think any of us could have made it this far without you. You have a habit of being there when any of us need someone to listen."
"I know." Raphael winked. "I do my best to be there when needed."
"And we appreciate it, Raph. Thank you."
Lysithea kept her eyes closed as she heard Petra walk closer. The woman, her friend, knelt next to her.
"You'll be safe here," Petra whispered. "I…I'm sorry. I know I should stay with you…but I can't leave Hanneman in danger. I'll be back, I swear it."
Lysithea continued to feign sleep. Petra sighed. "Lys, you're a good woman. Don't forget that." And a rustle of fabric and grass told her the woman was gone.
She chanced opening her eyes a fraction. Petra was indeed gone, and it was Lysithea's turn to sigh. Her fingers wrapped around Thyrsus.
Petra wasn't the only one with amends to make, with demons to put to the grave.
Still fatigued, Lysithea stood up. But she'd worked under harder conditions for her whole life. No more, no longer.
She had Edelgard to find.
"Remember the plan," Edelgard said.
"You do the same," Jeritza said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
It was the last time they'd ever see each other. The throne room carried memories for both of them, and it felt right to say goodbyes here.
"Good luck," Jeritza implored. "I'll do what I can, but the hard part is on you."
"If you can, survive," Edelgard said. "That is your last order from your Emperor."
He smiled. She was glad he'd ditched that awful mask. It helped her see the emotion in his face. "I will follow it to the best of my ability. Thank you, for everything."
"And you as well," Edelgard said.
They embraced as friends would, before taking their leave, each walking a path opposite the other.
An eagle soared above Enbarr, its eyes seeing all.
It flew above the Alliance army, above Lorenz, Byleth, Flayn, Shamir, and Catherine at the vanguard. "We've come far," Lorenz said, "and now we go a little further."
The bird flapped its wings, moving back to where Mercedes and Dorothea were standing amidst the center prong. They held hands, briefly, whispering to each other.
Turning to the left, the eagle looked upon the spike of the trident that Marianne and Raphael headed up. "The Goddess watches over us," the holy woman called out to the troops. "We march with her protection."
It gazed at the third prong, where Claude and Holst were. Each were calm, at ease.
And it looked towards their camp, to Seteth, Anna, and Hilda waiting in the wings. Hilda crossed her arms and looked sour, while Flayn did her best to cheer her up.
The eagle ascended, passing by Nader and the Almyran wyverns. Nader's wyvern, Aldebaran, carried Ignatz as well. Each looked stony, and ready for whatever came.
Into a dive, it descended. The eagle flew over the battlements, over Caspar and several Deadlords. It soared over the city, spying Yuri and Bernadetta making their way. It saw Petra doing the same, on the hunt.
Jeritza looked up at the bird as it sailed over him. Hubert stood next to Jeritza, paying it no mind. Not far from them, Lysithea plotted how to breach the walls.
The wind carried the eagle upwards. Through a window, it saw Edelgard walking with conviction. It passed the roof, seeing Hanneman tied up and waiting.
And so the eagle overlooked Enbarr, the battle to come. It cried, an echoing call for all to hear. All over the city, heads turned up to see the bird who had cried much like one had done at Gronder Field. There was silence at Enbarr, between the cry and the clash. Prayers were spoken as the final page turned.
The promised day of wrath had come.
Author Notes: I hope you all enjoy these next chapters. Fans of a particular character are going to be unexpectedly surprised and pleased, I think, with how their story culminates.
Editing Notes:
4/19/2022: Minor grammatical adjustments. Minor changes to some dialogue.