Chapter 3
Day 14 of the Harpstring Moon, Imperial Year 1180
"I, uhh… okay, this pass isn't heading the direction I thought it was," Claude apologized.
Edelgard sighed and took a seat on a nearby boulder. "If I had to do this alone, I would already be back at the monastery sleeping in my own bed."
"Doing this alone would have undermined the fundamental purpose of the mission, though, Edelgard," Dimitri responded. "Testing our survival skills was only a small component of the objective. We are here to show our ability to cooperate."
In a plot devised by all of their professors, the three house leaders had been taken to a remote forest outside of the monastery and then assigned to work together to find their way back. The whole thing was set up in response to gossip that the classes were in ill humor ever since the Black Eagles won the mock battle the previous moon. The hope was that giving the house leaders a chance to work together rather than constantly competing for supremacy would smooth relations.
In Claude's opinion, the rumors of tension between the house leaders was overblown. As far as he could tell, Dimitri had been very gracious in defeat, and the only statement Claude had made on the matter was expressing mild annoyance that Professor Manuela had vetoed several of his planned schemes that might have swayed the battle in favor of the Golden Deer. Some of his classmates were more bitter, such as Lorenz, but why did he have to complete this assignment on their behalf?
The trio had already spent one night out in the wilderness, but they had finally made their way to the Oghma Mountains. The particular place they began their ascent was still several peaks away from the monastery. Claude had hoped the lack of rivers and forest would make navigation simpler, but he had not counted on it being so difficult to reach the ridgeline.
"Too true," Claude said in agreement with Dimitri, hoping to take the target off his back. "It's one thing for us to work well with the students in our own class; it's another to cooperate when we're of equal status."
Edelgard did not relent. "I'm happy to cooperate when that doesn't involve foolish plans like attempting Claude's supposed shortcut to the summit."
"Hey! The shortcut would have worked if Dimitri hadn't somehow toppled the snag we needed to get up that one ledge," Claude diverted, quickly forgetting his previous support from Faerghus's prince.
Edelgard countered, "Then you should have accounted for his inability to show any kind of restraint during physical activity."
"I'm beginning to think this mission is going to have a result opposite to its intended goal," Dimitri bemoaned.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Claude contended. "You never know when things might turn around. Like… finding a delicious and incredibly rare fruit on our way back."
Edelgard's eyebrow raised. "What are you on about now, Claude? I hope you aren't imaging things out of exhaustion."
"No, no, he's right," Dimitri said as he looked down the slope Claude was facing.
Edelgard jumped up to join them. "Noa fruit!" she exclaimed, making a poor attempt to hide her excitement.
"Noa fruit, indeed. After you, Your Highnesses," Claude said as he motioned them down the hill.
Dimitri led the way, carefully descending the rocky path to a pool of water surrounded by bushes bearing the desired fruit. He detached the cape from the shoulder of his uniform and used it to carry the black Noa berries he picked out. Edelgard and Claude followed his example, though they showed more discretion in the quality of berries they selected.
The three famished students chomped on their find in silence as they walked. Once he felt full enough to stop eating and save what remained for later, Claude boasted, "Like I said, you never know what will happen. You two need to slow down, loosen up, and take in the experience. If it wasn't for me, you would have completely missed the berries."
Edelgard, who was the furthest up the trail, stopped and smiled. "There's no need to congratulate yourself, Claude. You may have gotten lucky and found a nice treat, but it's my leadership that's led us to the real prize."
When Dimitri and Claude caught up, they saw what Edelgard was referring to. Garreg Mach Monastery was finally in sight over the next hill. Each of the students tossed another berry into their mouth to celebrate.
"Now the two of you need to be better losers after the Black Eagles win the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, or they're going to make us do this all over again," Edelgard teased.
Claude was happy to lean into the improved morale. "Heh! Don't count on it. If we're marching all the way to Gronder, that will give me plenty of time to sway Professor Manuela to my side this go around."
"If that is to happen, can we at least promise to make that the end of our squabbling? I hate to even imagine us doing this a third time," Dimitri sighed.
Claude considered teasing Dimitri for missing an opportunity to add his own counter to Edelgard. Something like, "Don't forget that Faerghus won the real Battle of the Eagle and Lion, and history has a habit of repeating itself."
Instead, Claude played nice. "Alright, alright, I promise to do my part. Peace in Fódlan and all that," he agreed, though perhaps a little too flippantly for Dimitri's sake.
Edelgard released a half chuckle and brushed a bit of her hair. "Yes. That might be the most sensible thing I've heard all day," she joked. After she did, though, a strange distant look overcame her face. Claude did not have time to properly interpret it before she recovered and added, "Now come on, we need to keep moving. There are other assignments I'd like to take care of back at the monastery before the day's end."
Reunion on the Threshing Floor - Day 30 of the Great Tree Moon, Imperial Year 1186
Edelgard did seem frequently melancholy during her academy days, so Claude did not ponder her behavior during their cooperative mission too much at the time. In hindsight, though, all of the pieces fit together. Even then, she was burdened by the choices she knew she would make.
The Black Eagles did go on to win the Battle of the Eagle and Lion as Edelgard had predicted. Troubling developments in Fódlan were escalating at the time, however, so the dreaded follow-up cooperative mission never materialized.
As fate would have it, Claude would once again face Edelgard on the fields of Gronder. Hopefully the result would turn out happier on this second occasion. The stakes were far too high for anything less.
After covering his stash of poisons behind the sash around his waist, Claude grabbed Failnaught and his quiver of arrows. The rest of his belongings would remain at the encampment until they returned from the battlefield.
After a final assembly of the Alliance's generals, the army began its decisive march. Claude walked alongside his classmates, Leonie excluded since she was in command of the covert cavalry division.
The road to Gronder was largely covered in vast grain fields that were punctuated only by the occasional village or forest. Gronder's produce had earned the area the honor of being called Fódlan's breadbasket. As Lysithea had observed the previous day, victory would provide them with a superb source of sustenance for a siege of Fort Merceus.
For the time being, however, that grain only served to limit visibility for the Alliance Army.
"Claude," Hilda whined. "Should we be worried about being attacked on this road, like in an ambush? We can't see anything in all of this grain. Not to mention this fog."
Claude had anticipated the grain, so it provided him no worry. That being said, the developing fog was an unwelcome surprise. Plans were already in motion, so it would be difficult to call off the attack until better weather arrived. At least the Empire's army would be facing the same conditions. Claude would likely withhold from mounting his wyvern. If he was going to be without visibility, he wanted his feet to remain on firm ground so he would have at least one plane of reference.
"The divisions led by Judith and Franz might encounter an ambush, but since we're positioned between them, the odds of us facing anyone are very low," Claude finally said to soothe Hilda's concerns.
"Well that's comforting at least. But it could still cause a lot of chaos if they attack us where we can't even properly retreat."
"If there are any imperial troops out here, it would just be to harass us. They'll still be saving the real fight for more strategic ground that they've picked. They wouldn't be able to see out here any better than ourselves."
"We're nearly there, anyways," Lysithea added. "If they planned an ambush, it would have happened already."
True to Lysithea's words, the Alliance's army emerged from the rolling stretches of grain into an open field only minutes later. They were back on familiar ground.
The fog made it difficult to identify out every detail, but the arrangement of the imperial army was close to what they expected. The vanguard of the army was organized in a V formation, with the central hill acting as the point. An exception to this was a series of mages at the front of the army that would presumably serve as a skirmish line.
Hilda pulled on Claude's sleeve. "Yeah, that uhh… looks pretty daunting. I'm telling you now … if it gets really bad out there, I don't plan on sticking around. I want to help, but I don't feel like dying."
"Don't worry, I'm accounting for that. But I think you're selling yourself short."
Claude shared some of Hilda's misgivings. The Alliance had the advantage in archers and mounted units, but Claude was far short on mages in comparison. The fact that Edelgard had access to trickery Claude was denied was deeply frustrating. Lysithea also seemed to be studying the mages with an odd glance.
"Is something the matter, Lysithea?" Claude prodded.
"The attire of many of those mages… it looks… familiar," Lysithea mused without looking away from her target. After growing confident of her evaluation, she hastily faced Claude. "Those are no ordinary imperial mages. They are a special sort of vile. The kind that does human experimentation and blood research. I know what they're capable of."
Lysithea glanced at her blanched hair meaningfully but did not explain herself further. Claude would have asked more, but he was interposed by another development.
"Claude… over there," Ignatz directed as he pointed towards their right.
The Empire and Alliance armies were not alone. To the north, a third disorganized army had set up a position, with its soldiers scurrying in and out of the forest behind them. Only two men among their party seemed to be standing still. The two stood near the front of the lines, with their gaze fixated in the direction of Edelgard. One was a large man in heavy armor that was obscured from view by both the fog and the other man that stood before him. This other man's features were easier to identify. He was also of great stature, with blonde hair, dark armor, and a heavy cloak. His appearance was illuminated by the orange glow of the lance he held. Several of the Heroes' Relics were lances, but given the man that carried it, there was one possibility that stood above the rest. Areadbhar.
"Dimitri!" Claude exclaimed in astonishment. "He's alive… But he doesn't look interested in joining forces with us."
"So the stories of his ghost were true after all," Hilda ruminated aloud.
"Dimitri's… ghost?" Ignatz asked, saving Claude the effort of asking.
Hilda explained, "I've tried keeping in contact with Annette. It's been difficult with the war and all, but we've managed to sneak a few letters through using merchants. Well, Annette mentioned overhearing several stories from Faerghus Dukedom troops. They were talking about rumors that Dimitri's ghost haunted their brigades. If a few soldiers went scouting or got separated, they ran the risk of being killed in the most brutal fashion possible. They said no human hands could have committed such carnage."
Claude groaned, "I've had a disappointing lack of intel from the Dukedom. Why are you just now telling me about this?"
"Well, it all seemed pretty ridiculous, you know? Apparently, Annette's father ran off looking for Dimitri, and he vanished ever since… but stories of a ghost? Even if there were troops killed so awfully, there are plenty of people in Faerghus who might have a vendetta against the Dukedom. There is no need to drag out Dimitri's corpse for the job. But now that I see his ghost with my own eyes, there's no denying it anymore, is there?"
Perhaps Claude should have tried contacting Annette. He had no idea she was willing to transmit letters that could have had negative repercussions for the Dukedom. Likely, she did not even appreciate the threat of consequences if the letters were intercepted.
Edelgard's decision for a pitched battle made even more sense. Not only did she have to worry about a possible combined effort between the Church of Seiros and the Leicester Alliance- the legitimate heir of Faerghus was also in play. Her best move would be to eliminate her rivals as quickly as possible.
The Alliance's leader shook his head as he watched the Kingdom army scurry about. "Their organization is a mess. They don't stand a chance, especially if Dimitri has become so unhinged." There were some hints of structure to their army, but it was not fully developed. It seemed that a plan in place, but the army lacked a strong central leader to actually execute it.
The Prince of Faerghus was too important to toss his life away for nothing. Claude glanced under his sash at his collection of poisons pinned into a hidden belt. Yes, the bottle on the end was one he had wanted to find a use for. It was rapid acting, and it supposedly would knock its victim unconscious and slow their pulse for several hours. If he encountered Dimitri, it might finally find a purpose.
Claude looked away from his sash before anyone could notice what he was doing. He commented, "At least he's alive. Don't worry, Lysithea. I'm pretty good at identifying ghosts, and the Dimitri over there is definitely not of the ethereal realm."
Lysithea bristled at the statement. "Hey! I didn't even say anythi-."
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Claude laughed, desperate for a taste of levity in the face of such a confounding scenario. "Bad time to be doing that, I know."
"What do we do now?" Raphael asked uneasily. "I don't want to get tangled up with Kingdom soldier for no good reason."
"Agreed. We need to adjust our strategy with the right flank. We don't want the Kingdom army to get confused into thinki-."
The leader of the Alliance was cut off when several blasts of fire struck his lines. The forward imperial mages had split into two and moved closer to each of the armies to initiate the attack.
Casualties were light, and there was no reason for panic. However, it was difficult to think clearly while being assaulted. Claude knew the horrors of war in theory, but a knot formed in the pit of his stomach when the reality of his situation truly swept over him. Edelgard, someone he once knew on friendly terms, was aiming to kill him. Not argue, or only fight. Kill. Permanently. Not just him, but also his friends, army, and aspirations.
"As big class reunions go… this one's gotta be the worst in history," Claude muttered to himself.
It was no time to ponder such matters, however. "Hold your positions!" he called out. "That deployment can't do more than pester us. Don't play into their hands!"
The signaller raised flags repeating this order, but it was to no avail. It likely did not help that the flags may not have been large enough to be easily visible at a distance in the fog. Franz appeared to be doing his best to maintain order, but his lines quickly broke, most of them feeling compelled to charge forward to deal with the Empire's mages.
If the Gloucester troops advanced while his center and left held their ground, the entire line would be dangerously misshapen. Claude had little choice but to order his army forward. The roar from the north confirmed that the Kingdom army had done the same.
"Infantry, advance! Archers, follow me!" Claude yelled.
The Riegan army charged in unison, though Claude and his retainers pulled the archers to a stop when they reached a small slope that gave them improved visibility of the field.
"Keep focus on that central hill!" Claude ordered. "We can't knock them off, but hopefully we can apply enough pressure to keep them on the defensive rather than hammering our infantry lines."
Raphael moved in front of Claude while brandishing his gauntlets. "Don't worry, Claude. I won't let anyone through to you."
Hilda sighed as she heaved her axe to her shoulder and joined him. "Alright, alright. I'll come too, so long as you promise to protect me."
Lysithea remained behind the archers to maintain a healthy distance from the heat of combat and identify any troops that needed healing. That left only Ignatz beside Claude as both readied their bows.
"You ready, Ignatz?"
"All the way. Let's show the world a fight worth remembering!" Ignatz answered with unexpected fervor.
The archers promptly targeted the ballistae platform, which seemed to be achieving the intended purpose. The ballistae were being used only intermittently, likely due to the soldiers manning them being too busy hiding for cover from the rain of arrows.
The success of that plan was quickly neutralized by disaster with the infantry. The Alliance infantry first dueled with cavalry that had arrived to protect the forward mages, but just as it seemed the Empire's defenses were breaking, half of the mages suddenly vanished and reappeared on the other side of the Alliance infantry and directly in front of the Riegan archers. Those that remained had obviously cast Warp spells on their brethren.
Many of the mages that remained behind were quickly slaughtered, but the warped ones now presented a serious threat. Not only was the Alliance infantry surrounded, but the archers were now unexpected cast into the middle of the action. The mages prioritized targeting the archers. Hilda and Raphael dashed forth to meet them, which provided Claude and Ignatz some protection, but the rest of his line was not so fortunate.
Claude's sense of safety did not last long. Before he could even adjust to fight these new foes, the sound of rushing wind overhead forced him to look up. The shadows of pegasus knights, with the wings of their mounts lashing the air, were rapidly approaching.
"Those aren't ours!" Claude yelled as he raised his bow and quickly released an arrow. The archers nearby followed suit.
Too much occurred within seconds for Claude to process everything. Their volley of arrows was challenged with a hailstorm of javelins travelling the opposite direction at the same time. The grunts of falling Alliances soldiers were matched with the crash of both pegasi and rider plummeting from the sky. One javelin whirred by his face, while another seemed to sideswipe his hip, knocking him to the ground. The Pegasus knights that were not felled took off in a different direction to find a new target.
As Claude struggled to stand, he saw Ignatz sprawled in the grass beside him with glasses shattered and a javelin driven deeply into his chest. The aspiring artist had grown as a soldier over the years, but he was never a warrior at heart. Claude knew he would lose some of his closest friends to this war, and Ignatz was not a surprising victim. That knowledge, however, did little to dull the pain.
Seeing the disaster facing the Alliance archers, the rearguard had rushed forward and pushed the Empire mages back off their targets. That afforded Claude time to make sense of his surroundings. Once he pulled his eyes off Ignatz, he glanced at a pegasus knight that had fallen nearby. Her attire was that of Faerghus.
What happened? Most likely, the Kingdom fliers had targeted the same mages that the Alliance had pursued. While trying to keep distance from the ballistae, they had strayed over the Alliance line and had mistaken their opponents in the fog. It was a horrible and bloody miscalculation.
As Claude looked around, he saw another knight pinned beneath her dead pegasus. Her frame had been crushed under the weight beyond any hope of healing, but she was still breathing. Claude was about to look away when he realized that something seemed familiar about this knight. He moved closer for a better look. The woman's blonde hair was cut shorter than he remembered, but her beautiful, bright green eyes were still the same. The sight of a Hero's Relic lying nearby removed any doubt.
Claude knelt beside the woman and took her hand. "Ingrid?"
"Claude? Is that you?" she gasped.
"The one and the same."
Ingrid struggled to smile, happy to not die alone. She gave up her efforts, though, when she spotted the nearby figure of Ignatz. Her body shook.
"Was that me, Claude? Was it me?"
"I… No, I don't think so." Claude had no justification for that assessment, but unburdening Ingrid's conscience in her last moments was the least he could do. He similarly did not want to consider the possibility that he personally downed Ingrid.
Ingrid seemed to believe him. "Please… let my parents, and the prince, know that I fought bravely."
"I will," Claude promised as he reached for her lance and handed to her. The fallen knight smiled and expired shortly thereafter.
Someone put a hand on Claude's shoulder before he was able to stand.
"Claude! We pushed those mages back, so we're safe for now. But… you're not gonna like what it cost."
The leader of the Alliance half-chuckled darkly as he stood and faced Raphael. "How could it get any worse?"
Based off Raphael's despondent expression, Claude realized his classmate did not need to answer. He hastily followed Raphael to where another familiar figure lay prostrate. He knelt on the ground and grasped the left hand of the unmoving woman much like he had done for Ingrid. The hand was covered in blood after what had obviously been a fight fought with more passion than the fallen soldier believed she was capable of ever mustering.
"Hilda! Why didn't you retreat?! I counted on you retreating…" Claude wept as his voice cracked. He then set Hilda's axe Freikugel beside her and crossed her arms across her stomach. If the blood was ignored, Hilda could have passed for someone peacefully napping. Claude almost smiled, remembering all of the times she had skipped out on training or a chore for an afternoon nap.
"Hey, Claude? Uhh… where's Ignatz?" Raphael asked hesitantly, having overlooked his body.
"He's dead. I wasn't able to save him," Claude said quickly, almost coldly. Everyone needed a moment to grieve, Raphael especially, but there simply wasn't time for it.
Claude looked up with a fierce gaze at the hill before him. If he was ever going to get his wyvern units in play, he needed that position as soon as possible. He had no indication of his cavalry division's status, but he could not wait all day for their move.
"General advance. The defenses up top are not as heavy as expected. Edelgard may have thought we wouldn't be bold enough to assault it," he said as he reached for a flag, tied it to an arrow, and loosed it back to his signaller.
The troops cheered at this new order, happy to not worry about strategy and just fight. Claude grabbed a sword off of a dead soldier and followed with the infantry.
Imperial infantry poured around the hill to meet them, leading to brutal hand-to-hand combat. At first, Empire and Alliance troops were locked against each other, sometimes at such close quarters that knives were drawn or they simply tried crushing their opponent's face against the dirt. Claude saw one particularly savage scene where an Alliance soldier bashed in the head of his enemy using a loose helmet.
Before long, the Kingdom army had entered the melee, primarily targeting imperial troops, but also occasionally attacking Alliance soldiers in the confusion of battle. Claude was doing his best to break up these counterproductive duels when someone put a hand on his hip. He nearly lashed out at the woman before realizing she was trying to aid him.
"Here, Claude. Let me heal your wound," the woman said. Like Ingrid, her hair had been cut short, but her high-pitched voice was singularly distinctive.
"Mercedes! … Thank you." Claude exclaimed as he felt a warm glow as a previously unaddressed wound healed. The cut was not deep and was easily closed with Mercedes's healing spell, but he had left it unattended too long. In the fervor of battle, he did not realize how much blood had poured down his leg. The wound presumably came from a Kingdom javelin on the ill-fated pegasi assault.
"Anything for an old friend," Mercedes replied as she began to walk away.
As Claude watched her, it became obvious that she was in even worse shape than he had been. It wasn't clear what caused the wound, but her dress was stained deep red on the side of her stomach. "Mercedes, wait! You're wou-."
"Yes, I know," she interrupted with a calm voice. Despite her efforts, Claude had to briefly support her as she staggered and nearly fell. "I'm having trouble staying on my feet…"
Despite Mercedes's skill, no healing magic in Fódlan could directly heal the caster's own body. The spell was simply incompatible. Claude sighed, "I can see that. Please, my army has a few healers further back you can go to. We can't have you dying on us."
"Yes, yes, I will go eventually…" Mercedes trailed off unconvincingly as she continued to hobble away.
Unfortunately, Claude did not have the authority to give her a direct order, and he still had a battle to command. All he could do was hope Mercedes would resolve the issue before it was too late.
The fighting did not last much longer before the imperial forces began to finally peel back. Claude expected another bloody fight to actually summit the central hill, but most of its defenses appeared to have withdrawn, leaving only a cursory contingent. The Alliance and Kingdom troops moved together in unison to take the position. While the Kingdom soldiers continued to push blindly ahead, Claude pulled his own army to a halt. He identified Raphael and Lysithea among the crowd and released a sigh of relief that they had survived the previous struggle.
"I need soldiers who can man these ballistae! About eight should do," he requested as he scanned his soldiers. A group of volunteers quickly developed. Claude then ordered, "Apply pressure as far as you can. Let's keep their generals too busy worrying about their lives to give orders."
"Yes sir!" they said in unison.
One thing bothered Claude, however. The capture of such a strategic position came too easily. Had Edelgard spent so many resources preventing the Alliance's initial advance that the hill itself was understaffed? Had the Alliance's cavalry finally spliced their line in half and forced a retreat? Or was there more to it?
Claude found his answer quickly when he smelt something burning. He followed the scent to its source at the corner of the ballistae platform. Smoke rose from between the wooden boards, winding its way towards them. He could not see the explosive barrels, but there was no question that they were hidden beneath their feet.
"Everyone! Get off this hill, now!" Claude ordered frantically.
There was no time to explain the reason, so some troops stood frozen in confusion while others followed the order without question. He only made it a quarter of the distance down the slope when the platform ruptured in a burst of flames and a shower of splinters. Claude was immediately thrown to the ground- not due to the force from the blast, but because he was crumpled when a large object landed on his back. After pulling himself free, he turned over to see that it was Raphael that landed on him.
The imperial army had pulled back from the opposite side of blast radius while continuing to battle the Kingdom soldiers. With both smoke and the hill itself providing cover, Claude and his allies had a moment of reprieve.
Though Claude had the breath knocked out of him, he stood and tried pulling Raphael up with him. However, the man was too heavy to lift without extra help, and Raphael was rendered unable to exert any effort himself. It was only at this point that Claude noticed that Raphael's left side was pierced by a collection of splinters. He had evidently shielded Claude from harm with his body. More than one other Alliance soldier had been felled by the blast, and Claude had nearly met the same fate.
The struck man groaned in pain as he lay face down. Claude dropped to his side and told him, "You've got a pretty nasty piece right here on the back of your shoulder, but I'm going to get it out and call a healer. The rest of the injuries are not as bad."
Raphael did not respond, but Claude went ahead and yanked the troublesome piece out. He then turned Raphael over, hoping to restore him back to consciousness. As he did, though, he saw where a larger chunk of wood had driven deeply into the side of his friend's waist. Claude put a hand on it, ready to draw it out like he had the other, but Raphael abruptly grasped his leader's arm to stop him.
"It's over for me, Claude."
"Lysithea! Where are you?" Claude called out, initially ignoring Raphael's declaration. When Lysithea did not answer, however, he turned back to Raphael. "I know it doesn't look good, but if I-."
"No healer can fix somethin' this bad. I'm no expert at this sort of thing, but even I can tell you that much. Claude… Take care of my little sis… and the Alliance…"
Raphael was dead before Claude even had the chance to answer. "Raphael! Don't worry, I promise to look after your sister..." he said anyways.
As the Alliance troops continued to reorganize, Claude ran along the hill searching for Lysithea. He eventually spotted her lying still on her side. She was covered in black soot. It was only then that Claude realized his body had also been coated in the dirty substance.
"Lysithea! Are you alright?"
The white-haired girl coughed several times before she could answer. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. I think I might have been knocked unconscious for a moment, though."
"I suspect you're right. I'm glad you're okay. Raphael… he's gone."
Lysithea's gaze fell to the ground sadly. "Are we the only ones left, then?"
"As far as I know, Leonie is still out there. Though you'd have to ask the goddess where in the-."
Perhaps Claude's voice carried further than he realized, as almost as if on cue, a storm of cavalry approached from the north. They bore a mixture of Alliance and Kingdom colors. If they came from that direction, they must have severed the middle of the imperial army.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Leonie said as she pulled up alongside Claude and Lysithea. "We weren't in position yet when the battle must have started, but I hope you're not too disappointed. We got caught up by a wave of imperial wyverns and pegasus knights that I guess originally planned to attack you from behind. Thankfully there weren't too many."
Astride another horse beside Leonie was a man Claude had not seen in five years- Sylvain Jose Gautier. The left side of Sylvain's once handsome face was now seared red with scar tissue and boils. The smell of burnt flesh was discernible, almost as if his cheek remained smoldering. Even so, he presented his best smile.
"I'm just glad to see you all alive. That goes for the Kingdom troops as well." Claude said. "But what else happened out there?"
Sylvain answered for them. "It's good to see you, too, Claude. The imperial archers scattered into the grain like chaff in the wind, and what remains doesn't seem to be making much effort in closing the gap between them and their vanguard. The Kingdom cavalry linked up with your battalion when we saw what was happening. We tried pressing the assault deeper, but Edelgard's finest mages were ready to back their middle guard up… Hubert among them." Sylvain waved a hand in front of his cheek. "Look what they did to me? I'm lucky to still have half a face."
"I've seen my share of mages, but nothing prepared me for that," Leonie agreed. "But I'd still call it a success. Their army is in bad shape. But where are the others?"
Lysithea explained their fates while Claude walked alone along the side of the hill. He felt a thrill of energy surging through him. War was horrible, but he could not deny that the heat of battle could be stimulating, especially when matched against such a clever foe.
The tides of the conflict seemed to finally be shifting in his favor. The Empire had lost the central hill and most of their archers, and at least some of the Kingdom army was working alongside the Alliance. Claude peeked around the hill. As the fog seemed to be thinning out some and the smoke from the hill blew the other direction, he could actually identify Edelgard frantically directing new orders to her commanders even at that distance. A hint of a smirk appeared on his lips.
Though he was far too deep into the field to run back for a wyvern of his own, Claude shot an arrow to his signaller with the flag indicating that the wyvern riders could finally be deployed.
The leader of the Alliance returned to his companions and told them, "I've got a plan. Lysithea, stay here and direct the archers into a line. Edelgard will know that they don't have the range to reach her. Let her think that they only plan to harass the line of mages guarding her. She'll assume I'm with them."
"On it," Lysithea said before walking the lines to pass out orders.
Claude then turned to the cavalry. "Leonie, Sylvain… I could use your help with this one. We'll lead a cavalry charge around the hill to give the impression we're making another run at those mages between us and the emperor. We might have to divert pretty far around the center of the field where there is already a lot of fighting happening. The point is, we'll pull closer to their army without her thinking she's in immediate danger. That's when I'll draw Failnaught and strike a killing blow at Edelgard."
"I don't get it," Sylvain said. "If she sees you out there with a bow, how exactly is she going to be surprised?"
"That's just the thing. She won't see me." Claude motioned to a Leicester knight. "I need to borrow your horse," he ordered. When the knight dismounted, Claude swung his bowstring over his arm and head so he could hold Failnaught over his shoulder. He then placed one foot in one of the horse's stirrups and grabbed the top of the saddle with one hand to hoist him up. Rather than actually sit in the saddle, he dangled from the side of the horse. He then dropped after completing this demonstration.
"When I hang from the side like this, it's unlikely that anyone will see me when I'm in the middle of the pack. I'll drop off in the field, and I should have at least one shot at the emperor before anyone figures out what is going on."
"And what about the rest of us, sir?" one of his knights asked.
"Don't take the mages head on yet. Circle back around and help the infantry that's currently dueling with their vanguard. Once we clear that area of the field, we can make the final approach in unison."
Leonie did not seem convinced. "Uhh… Are you sure this is a good idea, Claude? I don't recall you ever being a master of equestrian tricks."
"Don't worry about me. Techniques like this are pretty commonplace where I grew up. I have more experience than you might think."
"It'll be more convincing if you aren't suspended from what the Empire will think is an unmounted horse. That would look suspicious," Sylvain noted. "Instead of holding onto an empty saddle, why not grab my hand? I'll be fine with you borrowing one of my stirrups."
Claude smirked. "I thought I'd have to order one of my own knights to do that, but I'm happy to ride with you if you're volunteering. Instead of stopping when we get there, let go of my arm and I'll take care of the rest."
"Come on up. Getting the assist on the emperor's kill? That will definitely be a story worth telling the ladies."
Before doing so, Claude first said to Leonie, "Could you stick to the back of the pack and stay around to pick me up? Those mages will be out for blood when they figure out what is going on." He then took Sylvain's hand, slipped his foot in the stirrup, and shouted the command. "Keep me covered, but leave enough space on this side for me to roll off without getting trampled. Knights of Leicester and Faerghus… forward!"
Sylvain added in his own, "Forward!" to give legitimacy to Claude's authority over the northern soldiers. The knights lifted their lances and spurred their forces forward with a great shout.
Claude's awareness of his surroundings was greatly reduced as he bounced with each stride of Sylvain's horse, his vision largely blocked by the knights to each side. He was at least able to feel their company ride in an arcing motion around the clashing vanguards. As their path began to straighten, Claude deduced they were running nearly parallel to the Adrestian mages that formed the middle guard. They rode along this line for some time before Sylvain shouted, "Now!"
Claude had only a moment to prepare before Sylvain released him. Using his free arm, Claude dropped to the ground with a relatively graceful roll. As the rest of the knights providing cover continued to dash by, Claude stood and drew Failnaught. All he had to do was find Edelgard and take his shot.
When the final horse passed by, Claude finally had a clear line of sight. Edelgard's bright red attire was easily recognizable, even with the fog. He quickly adjusted his aim towards her. However, for a brief moment, nerves caused Claude's hands to shake. Was he really about to forever claim the soul of a friend? Rather than compromise his shot, he cleared his mind and steadied himself before releasing the bowstring.
As soon as the arrow sprang forward, Claude knew his aim was true. The projectile did not arc, but rather launched directly towards Edelgard's chest with astonishing momentum. Unfortunately, Claude's delay afforded Edelgard just enough time to recognize the threat to her life. From Claude's vantage, he could see her just attempt a dodge before her body convulsed upon the arrow's impact. For a brief moment, Claude thought he was successful. A figure dressed in black, presumably her retainer Hubert, hurried to Edelgard's side and kept her from falling. It was then that Edelgard raised her right arm. The arrow had driven into her arm just above the elbow, with the tip protruding on the other side.
Edelgard's skewered arm may have resembled a kebab, but it would not be a fatal wound if she received proper care. Perhaps Claude should have dipped it in poison first, though he did not carry anything likely to be lethal. In desperation, he launched another arrow in her direction, but Hubert cast a spell that vaporized it midair. Edelgard began to withdraw while Hubert ordered the middle guard to advance on Claude's position. The moment of opportunity had passed.
"It was a good try, Claude. Now let's get you out of here," Leonie said as she strode up and extended a hand. It was a good thing, as the imperial mages already appeared to be charging spells for him.
"Thanks for staying around," he answered as he took her hand and joined her on the horse's saddle. They had to dodge more than one spell on their retreat. Once they reached the chaos of the opposed vanguards, Claude jumped off, found a nearby lance, and joined the struggle.
The Kingdom and Alliance soldiers had the upper hand in the short-range combat, but the battle was being complicated by outside factors. The line of mages that Hubert ordered forward had come to stop some distance away after seeing the cavalry withdraw. They then began to launch spells into the crowd, causing rampant commotion. They did not seem to care that many of their own soldiers were being cut down by their curses. The Leicester wyverns and Kingdom pegasi thankfully engaged these mages, which provided some relief, but Claude wanted the forward infantry finished off quickly so they could deal with the more bothersome enemies.
Claude was not well suited to combat with a lance. After finally pinning an imperial soldier onto the ground with his weapon after receiving a cut on his thigh and nearly losing his life, Claude turned around and released a deep breath to compose himself. When he did, he found himself face-to-face with what appeared to be a demon.
"Out of my way, Claude," Dimitri said as he lifted Areadbhar towards him threateningly. Needless to say, his lance had seen a significant amount of active use that battle.
The Alliance's leader stood frozen in shock. Seeing him only at a far distance before the battle, Claude had been unaware just how destitute the prince's appearance was. Dimitri's hair had grown out to unruly lengths, an eyepatch covered his right eye, and the dark shadow below his left eye suggested he had gone days without a decent night's sleep.
"Whoa, calm down, Dimitri! What does it achieve, us killing each other here?" Claude tried to reason.
"I have no time to exchange words with you." Dimitri's exposed eye then narrowed menacingly. "Or do you intend to stop me?"
"It doesn't matter what I'm saying, does it?" Claude groaned. "You aren't even listening."
Dimitri's attention was no longer on Claude, however. Rather, he was focused on something over Claude's shoulder. Claude turned around and quickly realized what it was. Not far beyond was the still body of Felix Hugo Fraldarius, covered in countless wounds from head to toe. He may have always butted heads with the prince during their academy days, but like Hilda, he had fought to his last breath with all the strength he had and then some more.
Dimitri slowly walked to the dead man's side and knelt down beside him. He scooped Felix into his arms and then gently closed his friend's vacant eyes. After a few seconds in contemplative silence, Dimitri's body began to shake violently. He tightly grasped Areadbhar and stood.
"Edelgard!" he bellowed with the roar of a lion.
Despite already having made significant progress in her retreat, Claude could have sworn he saw Edelgard briefly come to a halt and turn her head. She made a motion with her uninjured arm, which prompted several attendants to head back towards the battlefield, and continued her withdraw.
Dimitri was immensely powerful and likely could have done a fair amount of damage in a charge. However, he was already exhausted and stood no chance of actually taking down Edelgard and her most elite soldiers.
"Dimitri, no!" Claude cried as the Prince of Faerghus stepped forward.
It was of no use. Dimitri never so much as acknowledged Claude as he began his fatal charge.
If Claude was to do something, he had to act quickly. He first reached for an arrow and then held it in his mouth by the shaft while he drew his pre-selected bottle of poison and removed the cork. Claude struggled to keep his hand steady as he dipped the arrowhead into the liquid. He then tossed the bottle to the side and took aim. As they were too busy fighting for their own lives in the chaos, none of the Kingdom soldiers in the area were watching as Claude took aim and loosed the arrow towards Dimitri's shoulder. It was a difficult shot- he had to give it enough force to pierce Dimitri's cloak and armor but not so much as to actually kill him. It may have been impossible for any bow other than Failnaught.
The arrow found its mark as it embedded itself into Dimitri's thick cloak. The prince spasmed for a moment upon contact, confirming that the tip had indeed punctured his skin. This wound caused Dimitri to pause for a second, but he quickly renewed his assault.
The poison would of course not knock Dimitri out immediately, but Claude was certain it was supposed to act quickly. Surely he had made the formulation correctly, but Dimitri continued to cut down imperial troops as if he was in prime health. One was lifted into the air and then driven into the dirt after being impaled on his lance. Another spun around after taking a single punch to the jaw, already dead before collapsing. Was Dimitri even human? No ordinary man could have withstood the effects of the poison for that long. The powers of Crests were remarkable, yes, but to think that…
Just as it seemed like Dimitri might have been unstoppable after all, his body suddenly convulsed. He fell to one knee, only avoiding a complete collapse by leaning against Areadbhar. He held this position for only a few moments before he released a cry and fell face first to the ground.
Dimitri had made it far enough out into the open that he was visible to nearly everyone on the field by that point. The final imperial troops in the vanguard also fled or surrendered about that time, so the attentions of the Alliance and Kingdom troops were free enough to turn their focus to the prince's demise.
"Your Highness!" a voice wailed in agony. Claude watched as the ever-loyal retainer Dedue strode to Dimitri's side. Dedue would never have voluntarily left his liege alone, but between his heavy armor slowing him, Dimitri's erratic movements, and the disorder of the foggy battlefield, it was not a surprise that they were split up.
Several other Kingdom soldiers soon conglomerated around Dimitri, many of them crying out in despair. Claude walked alongside them.
"Knights of Faerghus… do you wish to avenge your prince?" he called out. Several looked in his direction. "Then follow us! Your enemy lies ahead!"
Dedue stood and joined Claude as he tightened his grip on his axe. "I will fight with you… just so long as I am free to take Edelgard's head," the man of Duscur said.
Many of the remaining Alliance and Kingdom troops assembled around Claude, including Lysithea, Leonie, and Sylvain. "Cavalry, take the outside and try to compress their lines," the leader of the Alliance ordered.
"Your wish is my command," Leonie assented.
Claude looked behind him as their forces reorganized. There were still a number of troops that lagged as they faced imperial skirmishers, especially on the former Leicester left flank, but Claude had to act now if he was going to keep the Kingdom troops in line. There was also just a sliver of hope that with the cavalry's help, they could still intercept the emperor before she reached Fort Merceus.
"Advance!" Claude ordered with his raised lance.
The assault started well. Many imperial mages fell to their blades while others fled in panic. The enemy's army had no formation left to speak of. Many of the allied troops began to raise a triumphant cheer.
That was when the ground started to shake. The sound of rapid, heavy stomps soon reverberated throughout the field.
"Goddess! What is that noise?" Lysithea exclaimed, who still fought alongside her leader.
Heavy breathing and snorting then became discernible as large forms emerged from the fog.
"Demonic beasts!" Claude cried as he tossed his lance aside. "Fall back, fall back!"
The monsters were advancing too quickly for the army to make a tactical retreat, but standing their ground had no chance for success, either. Claude did not know to what extent Edelgard was commanding the imperial forces after her injury, but she had obviously kept the demonic beasts hidden behind her lines, ready to serve as a final snare for her opponents.
Claude was not alone in understanding the severity of the situation. He paused when he noticed the woman beside him was not following.
"There's not enough time," Lysithea said resolutely.
The frail woman looked to Claude for a moment and opened her mouth, likely to say her farewells. Stopping herself, though, she closed her eyes and raised her hand. Before Claude could react, he tumbled to the ground after being warped an arrow's shot further back. He did not have time to even regain his footing before watching the beasts descend upon his forces. Lysithea cast an Abraxas spell, which briefly halted the advance of two beasts before she was trampled under the feet of another. Claude looked away from the brutal scene as quickly as he could, but he knew the image would plague him for the rest of his life. Lysithea... She burned too brightly, and faded too fast...
The beasts swarmed everyone else in Lysithea's vicinity. Another monster struck Dedue in the chest using his tail with enough force to crush the body of an average person. Dedue's heavy armor made it difficult to determine the injuries inflicted on his body, but he remained unmoving after he hit the ground and rolled to a stop. The mounted units seemed to be holding out better, but it was only a matter of time before they fell. The fliers were safe from the beasts, but they instead received the full attention of all remaining imperial archers and mages that were beginning to reassemble.
As Claude watched the calamity unfold, someone roughly picked him up off the ground. Only one person had the gall to do that.
"Your friends are dying, boy!" Judith shouted. "Arrows from a distance won't be enough to take these down. Let's get moving or they're gone." She immediately charged forward alongside several other surviving soldiers.
"Wait, Judith! We need to come up with a pl-."
Judith either did not hear him or assumed he would gather his wits and follow. She had already run twenty yards forward when she realized her leader had not yet joined her. She briefly turned around with a gaze of sadness and immeasurable disappointment. Claude's soul was so crushed that he made no reaction before Judith continued to advance.
There was no hope of Claude pulling off a victory, and he was not sure if it would even be possible to regain Judith's trust. If he followed, he would certainly die. His dream would forever be lost. Claude hovered for a moment, unsure whether to step forward or back.
Not knowing what else to do, Claude closed his eyes and let instincts control his body. His feet led to him race towards the edge of the forest to the north that the Faerghus army had once emerged from, leaping over the creek between him and his distance in one bound. Before he entered, he reached for the flag indicating a retreat and quickly launched it on an arrow back to his signaller. It was dubious if it would land close enough at that distance for the message to be picked up.
After entering the woodland, Claude placed his back against a tree, sunk to the ground, and closed his eyes again. The sounds of battle echoed in his ears as his hands grasping Failnaught shook uncontrollably. Should he try firing at the beasts? No, arrows could not pierce their dense skin at that distance. If he was closer, perhaps, but returning to the field would end both his life and his dreams. Even if he were to at least try as a matter of principle, having to watch the rest of his friends die might have been too much.
Claude could hear a few troops dart by in retreat some minutes later who likely never noticed that Claude was there. Someone else, however, had come to a stop nearby.
"You know, Claude, I thought I'd be alone out here."
Claude opened his eyes. "Sylvain… you're alive! Did you have to retreat?"
Sylvain laughed breathlessly out of pain. He was wrapping a makeshift tourniquet around his bloodied thigh using a belt and a stick he picked up nearby. He had removed his armor from the cuisses down to do so. "Heh. Only for a bit. It got real ugly out there. The action was too hot for me to deal with this injury out in the open."
After tightening the garrot, Sylvain leaned back and tried to adjust to the pain. "I'm sorry, but Leonie fell. She gave Hubert a pretty ugly injury, though. That sent him scrambling back to his emperor."
"But you can't hope to win looking like that. The armies have already scattered. The battle is over, Sylvain."
"Not as long as I'm alive," Sylvain decided with a half shrug.
"I'm sorry, but what is heaving yourself out there going to accomplish? It's suicide."
"I'll die, but I'll take a couple down with me. That's two fewer the survivors will have to face later on." Sylvain briefly paused as he stood, wincing in pain the entire way. "My cause ends here. My lord is dead, my friends are dead, my army is gone…"
"I wouldn't be so sure Dimitri is dead," Claude interrupted. "I think he only passed out."
Sylvain's eyes widened at first, but his expression quickly turned downcast again. "Is that so? Either way, Dimitri would order me to fight to the bitter end. That's what he'll do when he wakes up."
"What? No! He wouldn't order you to a pointless death."
"That was the old Dimitri. If you couldn't tell, Claude, the past five years treated him harshly."
"I got the impression," Claude groaned. "But Sylvain… don't throw your life away just because Dimitri isn't in a right state of mind."
"Throw it away? Ha! You don't get it, Claude. I want this. I hate the Empire. And if they're going to kill me eventually, I might as well take a few with me. Dying on the same field as my friends is a nice bonus, too."
Sylvain's determination was evident as he hobbled back towards the field, using his lance as an extra crutch. He had once been considered a wastrel of low ambition back at the academy, which was an accusation Claude occasionally faced himself. Claude knew the allegations against his own person were inaccurate, but he had accepted those directed at Sylvain at face value. Now, it seemed that he had been surpassed by his fellow loafer. What about Sylvain had changed?
Claude was preparing one final appeal when Sylvain turned around at the last moment. "Oh, and Claude? Don't bother using any tricks to try and stop me, alright?"
The leader of the Alliance froze. Did Sylvain somehow know what he had done to Dimitri? Or did his former classmate simply know how he operated?
Sylvain smiled wistfully and stepped out beyond the cover of the forest to face his enemies. Claude declined to watch his death, instead moving deeper into the woods. He examined his surroundings after reaching the high cliffs that would prevent him from advancing further. Upon finding a particularly tall tree with full leaves that would provide camouflage, Claude deftly climbed up its branches. There were few tall trees in Almyra to train on, but he had gained proficiency with the help of his former classmate Petra, a member of the Black Eagles. Claude was not one for prayer; despite this, he found himself instinctively praying that she and the rest of Byleth's Resistance Army would avoid the bloody end that most of the Blue Lions and Golden Deer had just met.
Once Claude found a suitable perch, he surveyed the state of the battlefield. The fog had cleared just enough for him to decipher what was unfolding. By this time, all that remained were a few Kingdom and Alliance soldiers fleeing to his left and a handful of imperial troops on his right that wandered about the battlefield, likely looking to report key casualties or collect valuable weapons. The demonic beasts were all dead, though he did not know if they were killed by their opponents or if the imperial mages put them down after they completed their mission.
Likely fearing an ambush, the Empire's soldiers soon scurried off without accomplishing much. They may have trounced the Kingdom and Alliance armies, at least as far as they knew, but their casualties were far too great to muster an army on an open field.
Upon their departure, the fields before Claude fell eerily quiet. The silence was only punctuated by the occasional sound of clanging metal, likely a lance or sword of a fallen soldier clapping against a neighbor in the breeze.
Then, just as it seemed the field would be allowed an hour's reprieve, new figures resembling phantoms materialized in the fog. They scattered about the battlefield like vultures, but they were neither beast nor soldier. Claude quickly deduced that these were peasants from the surrounding area that had come to scavenge what they could find before the imperial army returned.
This would be Claude's best opportunity to drag the unconscious Dimitri to safety. He descended from his tree and jogged back towards Gronder's open field. On the way, he did what he could to mask his identity. The sash bearing the Leicester Alliance's banner on his shoulder was the most obvious removal, but everything excluding his undershirt, pants, and boots had to be rid of. His high social standing would have been too obvious. Not willing to discard his poisons, though, he decided to move the belt previously concealed by his waist sash under his shirt. He was also unwilling to part with Failnaught and his quiver. Most uneducated people would not recognize a Hero's Relic, anyways. If someone pointed it out, he would just say he snatched it from the battlefield and play ignorant.
Claude had a general idea of where Dimitri had fallen, but finding him was complicated by the sheer number of bodies littering the field. On his way there, he collected a few bags of supplies that he thought he might find a use for, most importantly foodstuffs and extra sets of clothing.
He halted his scavenging when the faces of the dead became more personal. He first passed by the body of Mercedes. As Claude feared, she had ignored his offer for assistance. She had evidently lingered for some time, as she had fallen a moderate distance away from where Claude last saw her, but it was the same wound he drew attention to that eventually did her in. He also crossed the remains of Gilbert, Annette's father. He did not even have time to process this before he saw a peasant who was holding Areadbhar and examining it.
"Wait, wait, what are you doing with that?" Claude said as he raced to the man's side.
The man was surprised and a little annoyed to be accosted, but he did answer, "Taking it home. Its owner doesn't need it anymore. Hopefully it can fetch a good price."
"Good price? That's not worth anything! It's not a real lance. Look at what its made of!" Claude exclaimed as he rapped his fingers against the weapon. "Some cheap that material is. Does it look like it's been forged from iron or steel?"
Like all Heroes' Relics, Areadbhar was made of a strange mineral substance, almost resembling bone.
The man blinked uncertainly. "Well, no… but then why was a soldier carrying it around?"
"It belonged to a friend of mine. We were both lowly soldiers in the Kingdom army. We made it together as a keepsake to remember each other. Look!" Claude held Failnaught out to the peasant for a better view. "We made this one, too, so we'd both have one. A few other friends also had them made." Claude had to add that final addendum in case the man stumbled across any of the other Heroes' Relics likely scattered across the field.
"Well… you say it's cheap, but it looks like it's been used just fine," the man observed as he studied the dried blood that coated the lance.
"This whole field is a mess. Of course it has some blood on it! Anyways, do you know where you found it?"
"Think so. It was right by some man's side, over that way."
Claude directed his gaze to where the man pointed. He leapt over several bodies on his way to Dimitri's side.
"Alexandre! No, this can't be! Alexandre!" he cried.
"So, this is your friend?" the man asked after following Claude.
"The truest companion you would ever meet! His body must not lie here. I will carry him from the field and find a more peaceful place. But first, I need to get him out of this armor."
"Remove his armor? But wouldn't that be an insult to a true knight like him?"
"… You are right," Claude answered reluctantly. He was already unsure if he could lift Dimitri, but it was a lost cause if he had to move him while so heavily laden. "But… I might need help moving him."
The peasant pointed over Claude's shoulder. "That there may be of use." He referred to a cheap cart whose contents had toppled. Claude was unsure which army had brought it into battle, but it did matter. All that mattered was that it was in the right place at the right time.
"Yes, I agree," Claude said. "Could you help me lift him on that?"
The man assented, so the two worked together to right the cart and move Dimitri onto it. Claude tossed the provisions he had gathered onto it as well. The man added Areadbhar as well after recognizing Claude as its rightful inheritor. Claude did not simply want the lance for its power- it would also be dangerous for someone without a Crest to wield for long.
"I would be happy to help you move this cart off the field," the man volunteered, obviously moved by Claude's story by this point.
Claude agreed and requested that they take the body towards the north. The two men each took a handle. Together, moving the cart itself was not too difficult. More complicated was moving bodies out of the way and getting the cart across the rivulet on the route to the forest.
Once in the forest, they continued some distance before Claude motioned to stop upon reaching a small glade.
"Truly, this is a serene place to be laid to rest," Claude decided. "Thank you for your assistance."
"Do you need help burying him? It will take a long time by yourself."
"No, no, this is my full responsibility. I must do this." Claude covered his eyes, hoping that tears could convince the man to give him space. "Please... Just let me have this moment for my companion."
"I, uhh, understand," the peasant muttered awkwardly. "Well… I wish you the best."
"You too, gentle soul. Thank you for your help. And if you see anyone walking around with any other weapon like this, go ahead and tell them to leave it behind. Or better yet, quickly bury it or toss it into the creek out of respect. I promise, they'll be of no use to you."
Strangely, just after the man departed, Claude's fake tears shifted into genuine ones. No longer was he weeping over "Alexandre", who would eventually wake. He now mourned the loss of his friends. The loss of his dream.
He afforded himself only a minute to express his sorrow. The threat of another beating from any of his three brothers had taught him how to compose himself on command. His brothers were not present, but he had another motivation for gathering his wits. He had to decide what to do next.