Chapter 29

Day 19 of the Blue Sea Moon, Imperial Year 1180

"Hello, Professor Byleth. I hope you are having a fine day!" Dimitri greeted a little anxiously as he took a seat across from the teacher at a table in one of the monastery's gardens. A warm pot and a small basket of pastries sat between them.

"Prince Dimitri," Byleth said simply in a monotone voice.

This had begun as awkwardly as Dimitri expected. He would have to take the initiative. "I… well… to be honest, I was surprised to hear you wished to have tea with me. At the time, part of me worried it was a joke put up by your students."

"I see. It was not a joke."

"Yes, I understand that now," Dimitri said with a soft chuckle. "So… what tea did you bring?"

"Chamomile," Byleth answered as she poured out cups for both of them.

"Ah, my favorite! It has a refreshing smell. Either you are good at guessing, or you have a firm grasp of my tastes."

Rather than accept the compliment, Byleth explained, "Neither. I asked Dedue for your preferences."

"That does make more sense," Dimitri admitted with a thin smile despite being a little disappointed. "Anyways… thank you for the offer."

Byleth nodded, and the two took their first sips. It was nearing sunset, and when paired with a pleasant breeze, the tea party was a welcome diversion after a long day.

The professor spoke unprompted for the first time when she told him, "Jera- ... My father... said I should connect with people outside of the classroom setting. He thinks it would be good for me. I chose to do tea."

"Why me in particular? I am not in your class, after all."

"You were recommended to me for three reasons. One, Ferdinand said you would be polite, even if I spoke little. Two, Edelgard and Hubert thought it would be beneficial to learn more about an opposing house leader before the next mock battle. And three, Dorothea felt a break from training would be to your benefit."

Dimitri chuckled again. "I appreciate your honesty, though I'm not sure if your students would agree."

"Pardon?"

"Ahh- never mind. Regardless, I'm grateful that you asked me. Dorothea is probably right."

More silence. Dimitri watched as the professor as she lifted her teacup again. Byleth did not emote much, but she did not seem as cold as Dimitri thought the night they first met. She was not heartless; she was… calming. A steady presence. And when combined with her intelligence and skill, he was beginning to understand why the Black Eagles held their professor in such esteem. Had she changed, or had she always been this way and Dimitri failed to notice?

A bird with a blue head and chubby orange belly landed on the table. After a short hop, it began to nibble at one of the pastries. Dimitri prepared to shoo the bird away, but he stopped when he noticed Byleth studying it closely. Rather than make a move against the bird, she gazed at it with a subtle but earnest smile.

… A smile?

"What do you think about me, Prince Dimitri?" Byleth asked suddenly, causing the bird to instinctively flee.

The Prince of Faerghus was almost as intimidated as the bird. He queried unsteadily, "I, umm… what do you mean?"

"Is my father right? Do I need to do more activities like this?"

Dimitri released a breath and asked, "Well, are you enjoying yourself?"

Byleth thought before answering. "… I think so."

"Then yes! Listen, Professor… growing as a person is always worthy endeavor, but I believe it's a mistake to try becoming someone that we simply aren't. Instead, our goal should be to develop into a better version of our core selves. So if this is something that speaks to you, then by all means, you should capitalize on it."

"I see. And… do you think you've grown in such a way since arriving here?"

"Hmm. I… don't know…" Dimitri muttered. He had not come to the monastery to grow as a person. He only had his mission.

"Well, it's not too late for you to try," Byleth asserted. Dimitri found this somewhat profound until she added, "We still have more than eight moons left in this academic year, after all."

Dimitri grinned with amusement, much to Byleth's confusion. "Very true, Professor. I'll keep that in mind."

Another Stride Closer - Day 7 of the Pegasus Moon, Year 1186 (Fódlan Calendar)

After evading the Meteorans on their detour through the Sabaean desert, Dimitri and his companions initially landed at the Dunya Palace. The visit was rendered brief after they were informed that the royal household had moved to the citadel of Istakhr due to a looming threat of invasion.

The engagement at sea, now known as the Battle of Pyli Kyma, had shaken the course of the conflict. Conceding that a war of attrition was now unsustainable, Ghalib's forces immediately ended the siege of Astane when news of their defeat arrived. The Tabarzin and Meteoran units marched out of Shomal and around Elam in tandem, but they then separated to return to their respective homes. Since then, the Tabarzin army had reorganized and slipped into the cover of the Mikdash. Their precise whereabouts remained unknown.

The team returning from the allied fleet completed the journey to Istakhr before either of the main armies. The rest of Elam's forces, along with Marianne and Ariella, arrived in the following days. Excluding Soraya and Senusret, most of the personnel from Shomal continued home to help secure and rebuild Astane after the damage inflicted by the siege.

Morale was at an all-time high. Casualties during the campaign were far under the original projections, and their forces now held supremacy over the sea. As James had predicted, Khalid was offered minimal credit for his contributions. Still, even if the Almyrans were loath to admit it publicly, they surely understood the importance of his role in private. Hopefully that would stand for something in the long run.

While they waited for new orders, Dimitri stayed occupied by training in the citadel's impressive facilities. Istakhr Citadel was understandably less lavish than the Dunya, but it was still a sight to behold in its own right. Its various architectural styles- from that of Elam, Saba, Meteora, and back to Elam- served as a physical account of changing fortunes in Almyra. The main downside of the citadel was a lack of privacy- Dimitri, Marianne, and Ariella shared a room not far from Khalid, but in those closed stone corridors, there were few places they could speak freely without fear of spying ears.

For whatever reason, Dimitri had the impression that Almyra remained hot year-round, trapped in some sort of anomalous pocket of balmy air. He had not experienced winter conditions in Meteora, so his biases survived through their travels at sea. It came as a surprise when Istakhr was actually cold upon his arrival.

On one eventful morning, a light snow dusted the roofs of the capital. Dimitri was probably underdressed for the weather, but he did not mind feeling a bit cold. It reminded him of home. He could almost imagine that he was sparring alongside his father, Glenn, or Rodrigue.

Dimitri was performing exercises of his own, but he was also supervising Ariella's work with her dagger. Some of the others at the training ground watched her judgmentally as she practiced her throws, but Ariella did not seem to care.

The image of Ariella flinging daggers around the battlefield might have been a little ridiculous, but Dimitri had no intention of disparaging her. Instead, he acknowledged, "You've improved a great deal, Ella. I can tell you've been practicing hard these past few moons. Maybe you'll soon be ready for larger blades after all."

"Practiced hard, huh? What, you don't believe I was quick to pick it up?" Ariella asked with sparkling eyes. She then reluctantly admitted, "Well… you're right, unfortunately."

"Hard work is something to be proud of. Emotional strength is best cultivated through perseverance, not the absence of effort." Dimitri swung his lance at a stuffed target, which disintegrated under the blow. He noted, "I didn't have to train long to achieve this strength, and I'm a lesser person for it."

"So you had a cushy childhood free from a day of tough training?" Ariella baited.

Dimitri smiled a little as he remembered his tutelage under Gustave. His younger self would never have imagined that he would look back on those grueling sessions with fondness.

"Well… I suppose that would be an exaggeration," he conceded.

"Keep destroying those targets, and we'll have to start charging you for them," Khalid teased as he approached unannounced.

Dimitri paused his efforts and faced the prince. "Understandable. What do you need, Khalid?"

"I've been summoned to a war council that's about to start. It sounds like we have important news."

"Good luck, then," Dimitri told him.

"I'm not just informing you. I'm asking you to come."

Dimitri stared at Khalid dumbfounded, then at Ariella. He had never been invited to an official war council since his arrival in Almyra.

"… Are you sure? I thought I wasn't welcome."

Khalid explained, "That was before you became the Tempest of Fódlan. Even if someone had objections, something tells me they'll be too scared to voice them now."

"Well… if you think it's a good idea," Dimitri allowed uncertainly.

"I'm sure of it. Now, let's get going. And Ella… you should consider finding something else to do, or someone might come by and hand you the bill for the mess Dimitri's left behind."

"Sound advice, Khalid," Ariella laughed. "If they get to me first, though, I'm passing it up to you."

As they left, Dimitri told her, "I'll see you later, Ella. I'm proud of your progress."

Ariella sheaved her dagger and smiled as she headed the opposite direction. "If you liked that, you'll be really blown away to see what else I've been working on!"

On their way to the meeting, Khalid bounced between frivolous topics to keep Dimitri too distracted to feel nervous. The prince did not bother to ask permission for Dimitri to enter the room upon arrival. A few of the generals exchanged uncomfortable glances, but they remained silent. King Faruq raised a welcoming hand and greeted, "I'm glad you could join us today, Dimitri. Your knowledge and experience are appreciated."

"The honor is mine, Your Majesty."

Dimitri did not know most of the people in attendance very well, but it appeared that none of the major generals had been lost since Sous River. He did notice that Demetrius looked thinner than he remembered. Perhaps the army was short on food and alcohol while on the march? Or was the agha starting to invest a bit more effort in his health?

Once everyone was ready, the king began, "An hour ago, Nader received an alarming report from Khoy. For anyone unaware, Khoy is less than ten miles from the edge of the Mikdash. The message confirms the worst- the Tabarzin army has launched a surprise attack. They overwhelmed the city's defenses and forced a quick surrender. Ghalib left some of his allies and their retinue to serve as a new government and then marched his army onward. This information came from a brief message transmitted by pigeon, so we unfortunately don't know much more."

"Did it say how Ghalib is treating the occupants?" Demetrius asked with concern.

Faruq nodded. "To my brother's credit, he confiscated weapons and took a few leaders hostage, but he otherwise showed due mercy to the vanquished. However, the messenger dreaded the occupying force he left behind. They immediately began to interrogate city officials and merchants to identify 'Fódlan sympathizers.' There was also looting and beating of civilians that they found to be too noncompliant. It's difficult to say how bad it has gotten since the pigeon was sent."

Dimitri's jaw clenched. He had dealt with commanders like Ghalib before- they would avoid crawling in the mud themselves but would happily turn a blind eye whenever their subordinates showed no such restraint. It was hypocritical and pathetic.

"There is something else…" the king said cautiously. "The report indicates that the Tabarzin army is utilizing a division of war elephants."

Alarmed murmurs immediately broke out. Dimitri knew elephants as tools of the near-mythical armies of ancient Almyra, but they had long since fallen out of use. Was Ghalib trying to bolster morale within his army, casting themselves as the representatives of "traditional" and "pure" Almyran identity? Or was it solely because he thought the elephants offered power that could carry him to victory?

"Elephants! How is that even possible?" someone asked.

Nader pointed out, "They're native to the Mikdash. They've obviously been training them in secret for some time while we've been tied up elsewhere."

There was more whispering, but to keep everyone focused, Sardar Soraya asked, "Where exactly is the army headed? Towards here?"

Tiana replied, "Interestingly, no. They turned north. The nearest city is in that direction. Based on that, we believe they are looking to capture territory, not simply conquer the capital."

Senusret shook his head. "That's going to be difficult for them. They can take a few cities like Khoy, but they don't have enough soldiers to effectively occupy all of Elam."

Dimitri was unsure if he should speak out, but he trusted Khalid would welcome the decision. He said, "If Ghalib knows what he is doing, he won't only rely on his own soldiers- he'll leverage people from Elam that are already sympathetic to him. In Fódlan, my home was overthrown by a neighboring empire, but much of it was administrated by local traitors rather than the empire's army. It lends a luster of legitimacy that helps quell some discontent."

Khalid crossed his arms thoughtfully. "I agree; that would be his long-term aim. But I think he'd prefer the short-term solution. He's hoping to draw us out for a pitched battle. Did the message provide an estimate of the army's size, father?"

King Faruq nodded and waved to his grand agha. "We've sent out scouts for a more official account, but the messenger did the best they could. Nader, pass the reports around. If the numbers are accurate, I'm frankly unsure how there's a man or woman left in the Tabarzin that hasn't been conscripted."

The "reports" were copied version of the original message, which had been scrawled in miniscule print on a small slip of parchment. The new documents were much easier on the eye.

"Is the Tabarzin army accompanied by Meteoran soldiers?" Anthony asked while waiting to receive his.

Nader answered, "No. Looks like the rumors that relations between Ghalib and Meteora have broken down are accurate. We've heard that Tabarzin envoys are in Metanoiapolis, but we don't see any coordination between their armies."

"That would support what Helladius told us," Khalid noted. "Lord Philemon handled almost all the negotiations. After Philemon's death, Ghalib is now dealing with new faces at the table. They might be discovering that their interests are not as compatible as they were led to believe."

The king's brow furrowed. "It would also align with a dispatch I received from Metanoiapolis late last night. Now seems like an appropriate time to bring it to everyone's attention." He pulled a letter out of his robe and allowed it to pass around the room. He summarized, "Sardar Justinian is petitioning for peace, and he's even offering his army for our cause. … So long as his demands are met, that is."

"How unreasonable are we talking about?" Soraya asked.

Queen Tiana answered, "To start, Justinian is still fixated on the idea of his title being officially restored to 'King of Meteora.' He will still nominally hold allegiance to the Almyran sovereign, but he demands the authority to nullify any of our decrees within Meteoran territory as he sees fit. And while he's willing to pay some reparations for war damages, he's adamant that no one in Meteora is prosecuted for their treachery. Lastly, he also insists that we dismantle or slight all fortifications within twenty-five miles of Meteora's borders as a show of good faith that we won't breach the agreement once the war was won."

The room was silent until Nader whistled and shook his head with a laugh. "I wish the kid would have come here to make all those demands to your face, Your Majesty. I'd wager he wouldn't make it halfway through before wetting himself."

This comment earned a long laugh from the assembled crowd. As things settled, James mused, "The timing is not a coincidence. Justinian knew Ghalib was about to advance, and he wants to sway us when we need Meteora's support most. He's probably holding out hope that if we aren't desperate enough to agree now, we might reconsider if the situation continues to deteriorate."

"Undoubtedly," Khalid concurred. "So… how about it, father? Would you ever consider terms like these? With Meteora's aid, we could certainly end the war."

Dimitri knew Khalid would be against conceding to any of the demands, so presumably the prince's objective was to gauge his father's willingness to fight.

King Faruq tapped the arm of his chair as he reflected. He said, "It would spell the end of Almyra as a unified people. Our union has only weathered challenges through spilt blood, but power struggles existed before Saba's conquests, too. Together, we have fostered economic, scientific, and social growth that would have been otherwise impossible. I refuse to be the king that gives all of that up for a quick victory. If Meteora is allowed to break away on unjust grounds, what will prevent the complete disintegration of Almyra? Of the very concept of being Almyran? Frankly, this war occurred because I gave the other regions too much free reign, not too little."

The gathered generals were all enthusiastic about this response.

"We need to show Mirza Ghalib this letter. It looks like they wrote it unofficially to deny authorship should it become public. Even so, it could sour any future negotiations between Meteora and the Tabarzin, and it's not like Justinian has any leeway to spite us with a worse offer if he doesn't like that decision," James recommended. Everyone agreed with this idea wholeheartedly.

"The question is… do we engage Ghalib in battle now?" Demetrius asked. When he was met with scornful muttering, he insisted, "I'm serious. They don't have the means to take Istakhr. Remember that they are effectively under siege themselves due to the naval blockade. With all due respect to Prince Khalid and his retainer, I still see the enemy army stretching itself too thin before it can ever subdue the rest of Elam. As their forces and supply chains spread out, they'll be more vulnerable to an attack in a few weeks or months than they are now."

"That may be, but how will we feel when the mirza starts ravaging our lands beyond these walls?" Nousha challenged.

Demetrius nodded. "That is a concern, but how much wanton destruction is he willing to inflict? How about his soldiers? Ghalib is trying to paint himself as a liberator. That illusion won't last long if he starts razing cities to the ground."

"I don't know how much he's willing to do, but I'm not particularly interested in finding out," Nousha retorted.

Khalid appeared to be torn on the correct course of action. However, he did add, "Ghalib wants to be a liberator, but he's charismatic enough to convince his army that anyone they smite down deserves it. I heard about your talk over coffee with Aurelian, Demetrius. Remember how loyal the Tabarzin soldiers are? Ghalib will have a lot of leeway if he so desires."

This seemed to quiet Demetrius. Even so, everyone turned to the king for his opinion.

With a firm expression, King Faruq declared, "I know it's what my brother wants, but it's what I want, too. Too many times I've sat back and watched suffering that I could have prevented. Not again. We'll meet him on the field and end this as soon as possible. And if we lose, we will face the consequences."

The generals once again found this answer to their liking, though the mention of defeat as a legitimate possibility did seem to stoke some concerns.

"We must immediately review historical strategies against war elephants. We've beaten them before, and we can do it again. But we must be doubly prepared," one commander said.

"The key to victory here is not just a matter of strategy," Anthony opined. "We can have all the people in the right position but still fail if our army cowers in the moment. We need them to face that fear beforehand. They need to know the scale and the speed of what they are facing. We'd ideally show them a real elephant, but we'll probably just have to find something of a similar size given the circumstances."

There was some discussion about the best way to do this. They were interrupted, however, when Khalid said plainly, "It's a diversion."

"What are you talking about?" Nousha asked, annoyed to halt the current debate to deal with Khalid's nonsense. "There's no uncertainty on the subject. They have real elephants, and they've already been seen on the battlefield."

"Sure, but we've got bigger problems." Khalid held up the report. "They've tripled their number of wyverns since Sous River. Did anyone else notice?"

Anthony nodded. "Of course. It isn't a surprise, though. Most of the wyvern rookeries are in the Tabarzin mountains. They've had the time to bolster their numbers."

"And no one finds that of any concern?"

Nousha was a little less certain when she answered, "Yes, but we know how to defeat those. Like Anthony said, they aren't any surprise. They won't cause any our soldiers any undue panic. War elephants are an entirely different story."

"I'm not saying to ignore the threat. We should absolutely prepare to handle the elephants, but I don't think Ghalib is banking on them to win him the battle. While we place all of our focus on the elephants, he'll just overwhelm us with his wyverns. Nader, could you pass them the numbers for our own available strength? Run the math, you two. Even if our archers are trained to deal with wyverns, there's just too many of them."

Nader handed his daughter another document. Anthony sat beside her, so she held it where he could also read.

"… You have a point," Nousha conceded reluctantly on their behalf after a brief review.

"Like hell he does," someone else complained. "Everyone in this army has used a bow before. We'll just hand some more out before the battle. No one here has tangled with an elephant."

Khalid scoffed, "There's using a bow, and then there's aiming a bow. Hitting aerial targets swarming you at rapid speeds is not the same as just drawing and loosing. It takes skill, not just strength and stamina. With your logic, we should hand out gilded shamshirs to our soldiers and declare them all peerless generals. Ghalib will be left in a puddle of tears when he realizes what he's up against."

The discussion quickly devolved into insults and name calling. It was only put to an end when Queen Tiana sat up straight and ordered empathetically, "Enough!"

When everyone turned to her, she continued, "That's enough. This argument is achieving nothing. There's no reason we can't consider both viewpoints. Our generals will begin preparing our soldiers for combat against war elephants. In the meantime, Khalid will devise a strategy to handle the wyverns, and he'll be given the necessary resources to execute his plan. Is that fair?"

The queen's reasoning was strong, as was the threat of her wrath if the debate continued unabated. Everyone demurely agreed to her proposal.

"There's… one other point of discussion," Nader said after a pause. "Emir Dizhwar notified us several days ago that Saba's northern coast has come under grave attack from Sreng again. He requests aid."

"The pirates must have realized that Saba would be offered minimal aid due to the ongoing war. The Sreng people aren't as ignorant as we like to pretend," Khalid observed.

"Why start raiding now instead of sooner?" James contemplated.

Senusret rationalized, "They were probably too busy harassing Shomal's merchants until the council finally realized that continuing ocean trade without the protection of our gunships was not sustainable." His usual professionalism failed to cover his contempt for Shomal's council, as well as his self-satisfaction for having predicted the outcome from the start. Soraya peered at her general silently, declining to either defend or criticize the council.

"So… we were given this news several days ago?" Nousha uttered. "With all due respect to everyone involved, why are the rest of us just now hearing about this?"

The queen answered emotionlessly, "The subject wasn't a priority. We have a war to deal with… one that Saba declined to join us in. You all deserve to know the situation, though, so we agreed to inform everyone during the next war council."

Some remained silent, but most of the congregation openly supported the decision. Someone described the mood best by declaring, "They made their bed; now let them rot in it."

Dimitri was… disappointed by their sentiments, for lack of better word. Even if they were angry at the emir, innocent people would suffer the most. He understood it would be difficult to divert soldiers to the east when they had an invasion problem of their own to deal with, but it was unclear if help would be sent to Saba even under better circumstances. Unfortunately, it was not his place to challenge the king and queen.

Once the meeting ended, Dimitri and Khalid walked together back towards their quarters. Khalid must have noticed his retainer's discomfort, as he asserted, "My aunt is the emira of Saba. My parents are angry right now, but they'll step in before it gets too out of hand. This is just sending a message."

Dimitri wished to continue discussing the topic, but it was clear that the prince had other matters on his mind. It was their assigned duty to challenge Ghalib's air supremacy.

They found Marianne and Ariella in their room, and the Almyran prince explained everything that had transpired.

"So… you want our help coming up with a plan?" Ariella summarized at its conclusion.

"Basically," Khalid confirmed. "I always try to be creative, but we're talking about solving a problem that's existed since wyverns were first tamed. Easily countering aerial units without a bow… if the answer was easy, someone over the past millennium would have come up with it."

"If it's impossible, why did you agree to solve it?" Marianne asked.

Khalid sighed. "My mother dumped the responsibility on us, and there wasn't really any alternative. But… this room holds some of the best minds across two nations, if you ask me, so we've got as good of a chance of coming up with something as anyone."

The next ten minutes were spent mostly in silence, with the occasional person nearly speaking up before realizing the error of their ways. Dimitri stared at the wall, while Marianne stared at the floor. Ariella spun the top of a basket on her finger, while Khalid lay down and lobbed an empty cup into the air.

Khalid was the first to speak. "Maybe we should talk through it together? Bouncing ideas off each other can help refine them."

Everyone agreed to this plan. The first strategies discussed were the use of unorthodox unit arrangements or initiating the attack under certain weather conditions. None of the ideas gained traction. The least terrible suggestions of the bunch unfortunately would have inhibited their ability to simultaneously handle the war elephants.

"Maybe we should use a weapon that we've completely forgotten is in our arsenal," Ariella suggested next. "Are wyverns particularly weak to anything other than arrows?"

"Not that I know of," Khalid said. He then shrugged and added, "Well… that's not entirely true, I guess."

"What do you mean?" Dimitri pressed.

"Almyran zoologists have done a lot of research into the behavior of creatures that inhabit this land, including wyverns. I remember reading a particularly interesting study into wyvern communication. The researchers found that wyverns interpret some pitches of sound as friendly or calming. Other pitches were associated with mating calls. There was a certain range, however, that came across as hostile and discomforting. The study concluded that these pitches are used by wyverns to intimidate their opponents in combat."

"If that's true, wyverns hear this cry all the time during battle, but it doesn't seem to ever stop the fighting," Dimitri observed.

Khalid nodded. "Hence my lack of enthusiasm. The wyverns might not like the cry, but that's about it. They probably just get accustomed to it."

Ariella ruminated, "Well… what if it was incredibly loud and drawn out? Would annoyance progress to terror?"

Khalid shrugged again. "Maybe, but it's not like we can ask our wyverns to hold that pitch for minutes straight. We'd need to hav-."

He paused, seemingly having come to some discovery. After a pregnant pause, he asked, "Marianne… Is it possible to lengthen the duration of wind magic?"

Marianne nodded. "Yes… Umm… Normally, an attack spell only lasts an instant. But magic can be used in other ways- like a healing spell, which is a slower process. This can be replicated with wind magic, too… w-with much less potency than an attack like Cutting Gale, of course. Annette was the best with wind magic, though. I'm not really sure if I can do it."

"Well, we don't exactly have time to make a trip to Faerghus, but we do have time for you to practice."

"… Practice?"

Khalid smiled widely. "We're going to make history- if not for winning the battle, we'll at least be remembered for building the world's largest instrument."

Dimitri understood where this was going, but it was Ariella who vocally construed, "We're going to use Marianne's magic to amplify and extend the anti-wyvern pitch."

"So with Fódlan's magic and Almyra's science…" Dimitri began.

"… We might just have a chance," Khalid finished. "Do you think you can do that, Marianne?"

"I… I will try. But we need a proof of concept."

"True. Do I still have that book somewhere, Ella?"

"Left wall of your sitting room, third row. Somewhere on the right end, I think," Ariella detailed methodically. "But you're in Istakhr, Khalid. Do we have time to fly to the Dunya and back for it?"

Khalid punched his temple. "Right. Too many things to think about at once. I'd wager we can find a copy in the Madrasa of Istakhr, though. It's the largest university in Elam, and its library is beyond imaging. It's primarily for students and scholars, of course, but they won't turn away a prince." He leapt up and eagerly prompted, "Time is of the essence! Everyone ready for a trip into the city?"

Actually, Dimitri was shaken by how quickly surprises were being tossed his direction that day, but he did not object as the four left their room and descended the stairs to ground level.

After getting over the initial shock, Dimitri relished the opportunity to experience Istakhr on their way to the madrasa. Despite having spent the majority of his time in Almyra within Elam's borders, he actually had minimal exposure to any of its cities.

He had at least made some previous observations about Elam from his travels by air. The land often stretched in unadulterated steppe from one horizon to the other, leaving him uncertain what sustained Elam's ascendancy to power. Just as the grasslands began to seem endless, however, a city would crop up at the most unexpected time. These cities clung to anything they could find to justify their existence- a river, a lake, a forest, a cliff, the occasional crossroads… anything at all. Despite this desperation, though, the cities always projected power. Most had walls, and they dominated every important resource in the region.

Still, Dimitri felt like he had a better grasp on the identity and culture of Elam's neighbors than Elam itself.

He soon understood a contributing factor for this as he stepped into the capital- rather than cultivating a distinct identity of its own, Elam assimilated the characteristics of all its subsidiaries. It was both the geographic and metaphorical heart of Almyra. If the roads that crisscrossed Almyra were its blood vessels, Elam was both the source and the destination of the ideas and goods that cycled through the system. Shomal was more diverse on a global scale, but Elam provided the perfect balance of the Almyran experience. It was Almyra at its most distilled.

The temperature had risen enough to melt the morning's snow, allowing for a pleasant walk. Istakhr was large and dense, but it did not feel as overcrammed as Astane. This city had been tussling with overpopulation for centuries and had developed measures to handle it. It was not as loud or vibrant as Shomal's capital, but it was undoubtedly a place of wonder. Ancient markets dotted Istakhr, and there always seemed to be a surprise around every corner- a fountain or bath, a square featuring rich mosaics, and so on. At one point, they passed a vendor selling powdered pastries with almond filling. Dimitri noticed Marianne's gaze lingering on them, and when he conveyed that information to Khalid, the prince purchased some for the whole group.

They were just finishing their treats as they passed through a colonnade rounding a large plaza. The other three sides of the square were not actually a colonnade at all, but rather a large building constructed in a similar style. Three large iwans covered in blue tilework beckoned guests inward. Khalid led them into the iwan on opposite side and then into a smaller door on the right.

The group had just entered a tight antechamber that secured a larger hall behind in. After Khalid spoke with someone guarding the entrance, a screen was slid open, and the newcomers were allowed into the main room. They had chosen an opportune time to visit, as there was no one else inside.

The room was immense- it was difficult to tell exactly how immense, though, because many of the shelfs were hidden in alcoves that diverted from the main hall. Almyran architecture typically promoted the use of natural light, so the relative darkness of this hall took Dimitri by surprise. Candles placed at safe and strategic locations provided most of the illumination. The scholars obviously valued the preservation of their texts.

Dimitri was resigned to spend the next several hours searching for a single book in such a vast place, but Khalid confidently strolled to a large manuscript that sat alone on a pedestal at the center of the hall. He opened it to reveal what appeared to be an elegantly written list of sorts.

Khalid explained, "The books in here are organized by subject. This catalog helps direct you to the location of each one. So it's like what Ariella does for my collection, but in written form." He pointed to a line near the end of the page. "Here- natural sciences, animal physiology and behavior. Fourth alcove on the left, back wall."

As they paced to the identified location, Khalid detailed, "I don't remember exactly what it looks like, but their copy probably won't match mine, anyways. To make matters worse, theirs will likely be written in the old language of Elam. It's going to be full of illustrations of wyverns, though, which might help you identify it."

The four set to work at separate positions along the wall, occasionally needing to hold a book closer to a candle before coming to a verdict. Any hopes for a swift victory faded as the stacks of manuscripts began to pile up. Dimitri patiently examined each tome sequentially. Khalid and Ariella both honed in on specific targets at various locations on the shelf. Their selections looked random to Dimitri, but he trusted they had a reason for their methodology. As for Marianne… well, her choices truly appeared to be arbitrary.

Dimitri was analyzing a book that ended up covering research of ordinary birds when he heard a chain reaction of crashes behind him. He turned to witness the aftermath- Marianne had knocked over two towers of volumes that now littered the ground at her feet. She stood frozen in the middle in shock.

"These are priceless ancient texts. We'll be banned from here for life if someone heard that," Khalid observed ominously.

What little color Marianne's face began with rapidly drained away. That is, until Khalid grinned.

"At least, they'll ban us until I ask my father to overturn it. It's nothing to worry about it, Marianne."

Marianne began to chuckle. It seemed nervous at first, as if she was only doing so out of obligation to her lord. However, as the laughter drew out, it grew louder and morphed into something genuine. The others were too awed to react at first, but they soon found themselves joining in the chorus. Marianne was doubled over and practically out of breath at this point.

"I… I… Ha! Don't even know why it's so funny, ha!" Marianne gasped.

"Hey, humor is an art, not a science. Some things are simply beyond understanding," Khalid chimed in.

While Dimitri chuckled softly alongside them, he also set to reorganizing the felled texts. As he did, one of them caught his eye. It had a red cover with a profile of a golden wyvern on it. He began to flip through the pages. The writing made no sense, but the illustrations matched what Khalid had told him to expect.

Dimitri was loathe to interrupt the others while they were having fun, but he muttered as he held out the book, "Khalid… Could you take a look at this?"

Khalid was quick to calm himself as he took the offered manuscript. Everyone watched with anticipation as he analyzed it.

"Dimitri… this…" His entire face lit up. "This is it!"

Everyone was both overjoyed and relieved, but Dimitri could not help but notice that they were also astonished. The man of Faerghus smirked and accused, "What? Are you that surprised the dumb person of the group found it first? Or embarrassed because you were defeated by someone with only have half the capacity for a search?" There was no need to point to his eyepatch to convey the message.

They now made no effort to hide their disbelief.

... Had he just made a joke? When was the last time he had done that?

And Marianne… she had smiled and laughed! It was beautiful.

What had gotten into them that day?

Khalid said, "I'm just amazed at your sudden turn of luck! The correct book falling right into your lap like that? I guess some heavenly power is smiling upon you today. Whatever your prayers were this morning… write them down and keep them handy."

Ariella examined the tome and asked, "Assuming they let us borrow this, what's next? Testing the theory out?"

Khalid nodded. "This book is just a starting point. Not only does Marianne need to practice, but we'll need a demonstration to prove this is worth everyone's time. For that, we'll need an actual wyvern and some instruments. Finding a wyvern will be easier ask, so can you get that organized, Dimitri and Marianne? Just head out to the citadel grounds."

"I'm confident we can find our way back," Dimitri promised.

"Great! That just leaves finding the instruments. Ella and I will meet you there once we scavenge something that works."

In actuality, Dimitri and Marianne nearly got lost on the return journey three times, but by putting their minds together, they were always able to figure it out. Marianne seemed uncomfortable on particularly crowded streets, but Dimitri was pleasantly surprised to see that she did not appear as withdrawn as she had been in the past.

He noted as they walked, "You look well, Marianne. I'm glad. I was worried the campaign would take a toll. I hope you were treated well by the others?"

In fact, she looked in better health than he had ever seen her, but emphasizing that fact would have come across rudely.

Marianne bit her lip and looked down, embarrassed at the attention. Some habits are difficult to break. She answered, "Yes. Anthony is a very kind man. You might remember that I dined with his family the other night. I really liked all of them. And Nousha, umm… she is a good person."

Dimitri was amused by her more measured praise for Nader's daughter. He was trying to think of a response when Marianne stopped and said, "This place… I didn't appreciate how freeing it could be. Even if I tried explaining my Crest to anyone, I don't think they'd really understand what it all means. It's strange, but… I feel safe here. Even during a war."

On the night of her return, Marianne had finally shared the full story of her life before Garreg Mach, including her bloodline, her childhood, and adoption. Tears were shed, hugs were taken, and promises were made. She provided Ariella a similar, albeit simplified, version of the tale when the final retainer returned.

Marianne's Crest… the Crest of the Beast. Dimitri was vaguely familiar with it, but the stories of its curse were probably better known in the Alliance. After what happened to Miklan Gautier, Dimitri could not dismiss the possibility of a human turning into a horrific beast. The Agarthans, whose story he had pieced together from Caspar and Khalid, also had the ability to cause such a transformation. In those cases, though, there was an immediate cause for the transformation… it didn't just happen. And Dimitri and Khalid both agreed that even if the impossible transpired and Marianne did transform, they wanted to be there for her… to make sure she was put to rest instead of eternally suffering in a horrific form.

Dimitri expressed, "I'm glad you feel comfortable in Almyra, but I hope you can feel safe with us… even if we do understand what your Crest means."

"… I do feel safe with you," Marianne confirmed. "I should have told you sooner. I… should have told my friends at the academy, too. I was scared of hurting them, but it seems kind of silly now. Maybe I've become complacent about the danger I bring, but I don't know… I do know that I hurt my friends by cloistering myself, though."

Dimitri quickly put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I don't think that's true, Marianne. I… didn't spend much time with the Golden Deer, other than Raphael. But from every interaction I remember, they were all very fond of you. I'm sure they wished you had opened up more, but only because they were worried for your wellbeing, not because you offended them."

"Well, there was this one time I upset Leonie."

"And how did that story resolve itself?" Dimitri probed, taking a bit of a gamble.

Marianne looked away. "She… apologized and said she was worried about me." She chuckled softly. "O-okay. You win again. And… thank you. I'm really glad you're here."

As Marianne began to walk again, Dimitri discretely wiped at his watering eye. The previous night, his departed friends had detailed a comprehensive list of every reason he should be dead, so to hear Marianne make a claim to the contrary was a well-timed reassurance.

Dimitri… the Tempest of Fódlan. The final tool of vengeance for the dead.

Roles that were given to him, or perhaps… roles that he gave himself. But… they weren't who he really was. It was during moments like this- supporting someone he cared for- that he felt truly alive.

This was how he wanted to grow as a person. Like Byleth once said, it was not too late for him. But was it what people needed from him? He was good at killing, and Khalid did not make him a retainer to serve as an emotional crutch. So what did his future look like?

When they arrived at the wyvern grounds in the outer bailey of the citadel, they found Anthony making his regular inspections. He welcomed the newcomers genially.

"Are you not on the project to solve our elephant crisis?" Dimitri asked him.

Anthony chuckled softly. "Not yet. There's a lot of vocal people with strong opinions working on it right now… a few too many cooks in the kitchen, if you ask me. I gave my suggestions, made my escape, and am now just waiting for when I get dragged back in. How is your work on the wyvern problem going?"

Dimitri answered, "Well enough so far. That's why we're here, actually. Would it be a problem if we borrow a wyvern for a bit of research? We're just waiting on Khalid and Ariella to return."

"Be my guest, so long as that research doesn't involve the death, maiming, or torture of any wyverns," Anthony permitted.

Dimitri tested a bit nervously, "Does causing them a bit of discomfort count?"

Anthony blinked and muttered, "I… well… maybe I should stay and watch to be safe."

The group conversed as they waited, but Khalid and Ariella did not take too long. They arrived with a chest containing eight long woodwinds constructed out of reeds. Dimitri knew the instrument by this point; it was called the ney.

"I notified my parents about our strategy, and my mother is going to come see what it's all about," Khalid shared. "It needs to be a good show. She should be here soon, so could you get a wyvern ready, Anthony?"

Anthony went to find their subject, examining several in hopes of identifying the ideal candidate. Khalid and Ariella flipped through the pages of their book, whispering to each other about certain details. Marianne practiced the production of a summoning circle, her eyes and hands darting about as if she was trying to modify it; she looked nervous about having so little time to prepare. Dimitri just stood awkwardly wondering what his purpose was in all of this.

Despite having nothing to do to stay occupied, Dimitri was still startled by the arrival of someone behind him.

"Ah!" Queen Tiana exclaimed when she saw the collection of flutes. "I didn't realize you all were preparing a recital for me. It's a nice thought, Khalid, but you really ought to know that while I'm a patron of the arts, I'm not the most passionate or cultured."

"Yes, yes, very funny, mother," Khalid sighed. "It's not a recital, but you'll be eager to set one up in our honor once you see what we're about to achieve."

Tiana smirked knowingly. "Your confidence is always admirable. And hopefully… not misplaced this time."

Anthony returned at that time and paid respects to the queen. He then put a hand on the neck of the wyvern he had brought over, keeping a safe distance from the others. Anthony told them, "Her name is Yasmin. She should be an ideal subject- neither unusually good-natured or unpleasant."

Khalid nodded. "Good thinking. If you're fine with it, do you think you could mount her? Her reaction might change depending on whether she has a rider."

As Anthony got into the saddle, Khalid and Ariella rummaged through the instruments in the chest.

"Based off the study, we think this one should be pretty close to the range we are looking for," Ariella said as she handed the ney to Marianne. Marianne stepped away and turned her back to the others, anxious from the watching eyes. She produced several summoning circles in succession, but no sound was produced other than a tenuous whistle.

"Is everything okay?" Dimitri asked.

Marianne did not immediately answer. She then muttered to herself, "Umm… hold on… I… uhh…"

Tiana glanced at Khalid out of the corner of her eye, understandably not impressed by the result thus far. Khalid motioned for his mother to have patience.

Just in time, Marianne was able to produce a steady note.

"Ah! There!" she exclaimed happily.

The note was, to be frank, a little annoying. However, Yasmin did not appear to be bothered.

"Hmm. The pitch is a little too low. Try this one instead," Ariella requested as she switched out Marianne's instrument for a shorter one.

"I think that's pretty close," Khalid evaluated as Marianne tried again on its highest note. "I don't want to start sawing the thing shorter, so is it possible to adjust the pitch by the speed or orientation of the wind?"

"Well… I…"

As the pitch was modified, Anthony raised his hand and called out, "Wait, right there! I can tell that's she's a bit agitat-."

With this seal of approval, Marianne did something with her spell that rapidly increased the volume. Everyone covered their ears and Yasmin leapt two steps back. The wyvern roared, shook her head, and threw Anthony from the saddle. He hit the ground hard and rolled several times through the dirt.

Everyone lunged forward to assist Anthony, but Dimitri reached out both arms to stop them- it was too dangerous to approach a rampaging wyvern. When Yasmin started to calm some, Dimitri slid in, grabbed Anthony, and helped him away.

"Are you alright?" Dimitri asked.

"Aargh… umm, yeah," Anthony mumbled as calmly as he could. "If we need to do that again, though, could we lay out some cushions next time?"

Anthony had to reassure Marianne that he was fine after she repeated profuse apologies, but everyone was soon laughing about the misadventure. Some marshals on duty eventually led Yasmin away.

"In all my years, I've never seen a wyvern act like that," Anthony said more seriously once they were finished. "I'm impressed, and… a bit terrified. What do you think, Your Majesty?"

Tiana crossed her arms as she thought. "I trust you'd never earn your title if you made a habit of getting tossed from the saddle like that. So, assuming my son didn't ask you to play that up, I'm equally astonished."

"Enough so to scale this instrument up?" Khalid asked. "We need the capacity to knock out a whole wave of wyverns like this. And ideally, we'd try to train our own to handle the pitch without panicking."

The queen nodded slowly. "… I'll get our best scientists and artisans on this immediately. No expense will be spared." Her tone was solemn, but she then smiled and put a hand on her son's shoulder. "Good work, Khalid. Even now, you're always full of surprises."

"Hey, this one was a team effort. It wouldn't have been possible without everyone here," Khalid said as he handed his mother both the book and the ney.

Queen Tiana and Anthony both left shortly thereafter to continue their work. The remaining four discussed their next actions.

"I want to practice that spell a bit more. I need to execute it consistently," Marianne decided.

Ariella beamed and asked, "Can I watch? I'd like to try and learn it, too! I can already produce a basic wind spell."

Marianne glanced away. "Well… I'm not sure I'm the best teacher…"

"But you'll try anyways, right?"

"Umm… I can try."

Khalid put an arm around Dimitri and proposed, "I'd like to talk with Nader. I haven't gotten his thoughts on all of this yet. Want to come, Dimitri?"

"Sure," Dimitri replied with a shrug.

Just as they were about to leave the women, Khalid turned around and declared, "Oh, and by the way Marianne… I think it's due time to drop the hair coloring, so long as that's fine with you."

Marianne's mouth opened in surprise, and she made a quick glance at her red locks. They were still a bit disheveled, but she was putting more effort into controlling them than she had in the past. She questioned, "I don't mind, but… are you sure? The blue is a constant reminder of my heritage. It might even make enemies more likely to target me."

Khalid countered, "Then cover it up in battle if you'll feel safer. But in my opinion, the blue hair should actually help in the next fight. The enemy wants you dead due to the threat you pose, but showing up with an unexpected hair color might cause them to mistake your identity. I'd happily explain that to anyone who asks about your change in appearance."

"Well… Okay. Thank you, Claude," Marianne acquiesced.

The two men were soon on their way. Dimitri had hoped to discuss Ariella's progress with her blade and Marianne's emotional growth, but his lord was clearly preoccupied.

"You seem uneasy, Khalid."

Khalid did not immediately answer, as if deciding whether to explain himself or even admit that Dimitri's observation was correct. Finally, the prince exhaled and explained, "It's about my father. I asked him to come watch, too, but he said he wasn't feeling great. Apparently it took all the strength he could muster to hide the pain during the war council."

Khalid paused again, and then said in an even darker voice, "I got the impression that this has been happening a lot. His health hasn't been the same since the incident, and it's getting worse. I'm… worried about the future."

It was as Dimitri feared when the king was first wounded. He comforted, "Whatever happens, we'll be here for you, Khalid."

"I appreciate that. Our problems run deeper than a son's concerns, though. If something were to… happen… we'd have a whole new succession crisis on our hands. Father still hasn't named his heir."

"But you're his legitima-."

"It's not that simple… you know that, right? This is Almyra, not Fódlan. If my father said he preferred Abbas or James or anyone else, that's how it's going to go."

Dimitri frowned. "He's not going to name Ghalib, Darius, or Abbas after this."

Khalid admitted, "All true, but if my father were to die today without an official decision, I think those three would still find some supporters here in Elam. Loyalty is a fickle thing, Dimitri. People might not turn their backs on the king so long as he's giving orders, but the rug will be pulled out from under me if he's gone. I'll pick up some support as the 'legitimate' child, but most people unwilling to join Ghalib and his troupe would rather have James as king. It's going to be a mess."

Khalid was usually able to keep a steady head, but the stress was beginning to express itself in his voice.

"I know it's difficult, but this isn't the time to linger too long on these sorts of thoughts," Dimitri advised compassionately. "We have a battle to prepare for. And, though it's grim to say… once it's done, there might be fewer names to concern yourself with."

Khalid looked at him curiously and then nodded. "Right as ever, Dimitri. Sorry you had to see me like that." He smiled and patted Dimitri's arm. "Come on. Let's get back to it."