Steel blades crashed against one another. One clanging against the other in a fierce display of strength and skill. Again and again, they clashed. Never to stop - not for any purpose. Nothing was to halt their progress.

Their wielders fought with focused, determined expressions. They were both more than prepared to keep fighting for as long as they needed. After all, they had time.

Plenty of time.

However, in spite of their fervent engagements, they weren't quite fighting at their full potential. One of them was even acting somewhat sluggishly. It was as if gravity itself was conspiring wholly against him. A constant invisible pressure was being continually applied to every single part of his body.

Lucas didn't appreciate his current state. His soul, eternally weighed down by gravity's embrace...or something to that effect. In reality, he knew exactly what it was that was affecting him.

He yawned.

"Exhausted, are we?" Edelgard asked in an almost taunt-like manner. Both hands on her Steel Sword, she pointed her weapon forward. "There is no time for rest in war! Prepare yourself!"

She shot ahead, quickly closing the short distance between herself and her sparring partner. Lucas scrambled to put up a defence. He readied a block, hoping it would be enough.

It wasn't. Edelgard's strike possessed a significant level of raw power. It eclipsed whatever meager defences Lucas lazily raised. Therefore, with only a single slash, the fallen princess forced the blade out of her former teacher's grasp. She then pointed her sword directly at his throat.

"You lose," she said. "Again."

The Britishman had his hands lifted into a surrendering position. He sighed, lowering his arms at the same time the Adrestian eased her aggressive stance.

"Again, huh? How many losses does that make?" Lucas wondered, disappointed. "Forty?"

"Forty-six," Edelgard corrected. Her expression also indicated dissatisfaction, but not in herself. "That's almost fifty straight failures. If this were a class, I would not be giving you a passing grade."

"Oh," responded Lucas, yawning once more. "Wonderful. Absolutely spiffing. Can I be made an exception? You know about my condition."

"A condition that will pass in time. We are training so that may happen sooner. Also to identify any potential failings in your fighting capabilities. So far, you could be doing better."

"Lovely…" Lucas hung his top half downwards in defeat. "I assume we'll be getting right back into it? No time for rest in war and whatnot, right?"

"Indeed we shall. Retrieve your weapon. We shall resume immediately."

With abundant reluctance, Lucas did as he was instructed, picking up the weapon that had been knocked straight to the ground. Edelgard stepped away and got into a low stance, ready to re-initiate their spar.

Her opponent followed suit. He gripped the hilt of his weapon using both hands and held it out directly in front of himself. After slightly loosening his knees, he too was ready.

Somewhat. His limbs kept shaking. Urges to yawn kept clawing at him like an overly needy feline.

But none of that mattered - training was about to resume.

Lucas and Edelgard's blades clashed for hours on end. Even as the sun gradually glided across the tip of the sky, even as the world itself darkened as evening dictated the lives of Fodlan's citizens, even as a mountain of minor wounds and bruises dirtied the appearances of both fighters; never did they stop.

They always carried on.

One moment, Lucas swung, intending to strike upon Edelgard's head. His speed was rather lacking. The attack was easily evaded. She returned the favor. Tenfold.

Another moment, he attempted a rapid barrage of lunging stabs that kept him stepping forward every time he thrusted his blade ahead. However, in reality, his lunges were exceptionally slow. All Edelgard needed to do was easily and effortlessly walk backwards.

Her face grew increasingly saddened with every failure from Lucas.

Channeling her quiet displeasure, the white-haired woman sidestepped a massively sluggish slash from her training partner and unleashed a hefty punch upon his cheek. He was flung straight to the ground, his sword flying off into the near distance.

"One hundred and twenty seven losses, yet not a single victory," Edelgard notified, bearing her disappointment at full force. "This will not do. I cannot allow you to remain as you are. We must continue immediately-"

She peered at him. Lucas was on the ground, collapsed, breathing and panting heavily.

"I see," she responded. "Perhaps rest will be prudent. I will give you some time to collect yourself. Know that we must continue as soon as possible. We must…"

Edelgard frowned. She began to struggle with an intense, sudden conflict that had just returned to her mind. It forced her to block out her surroundings as her personal world became completely covered in darkness.

She was blinded to the arrival of a certain someone.

"What the hell's going on here?"

Violently ejecting herself from those dark thoughts of hers, Edelgard opened her eyes. Woes had been eased somewhat upon seeing the somewhat comforting face of such an individual.

"Oh. Captain Jeralt. You have returned," she greeted the impossibly old man. "How was your hunting expedition?"

"It was good," he quickly replied, bearing a frown. "But enough about that. Mind telling me why the hell he's on the ground? Would've thought he died if I hadn't seen him breathing."

"I was training him," explained Edelgard.

"I thought Manuela said not to let him do any strenuous activity or whatever. What were you thinking?" Jeralt questioned, raising an eyebrow in scrutiny.

Edelgard briefly hesitated.

"I-he is rather important to us all. We are in the middle of a war, Captain Jeralt. Sooner or later, he will have to partake in a battle," she tried to justify. "With the way he is now, he will not be surviving for very long. And that will defeat the purpose of our staying here."

"So you thought you could prepare him for battle. Is that it? Nobody's ready for war, kid. Not even the one guy who knew about it beforehand was ready. He slept through five years of the damn thing."

"I'm well aware of all that. Still, it would not be good for any of us if he were to die so soon. His power is something we can use. That divine foresight…" Edelgard looked over to Lucas' heavily breathing body. "He may very well be our strongest tactical asset."

"I get that. You didn't want us to lose our one advantage. But didn't you ever think you might be pushing him too hard? The kid's literally on the ground, struggling to even breathe. Look at him! You really think that's okay?"

"I was giving him a break."

"Sure. And I bet you were just about to get back to it, weren't you?"

"..."

"Knew it."

Jeralt knelt down, his gaze hovering over Lucas' profoundly puffing self. He had slowed his breathing over the course of his time on the ground, but there was still some air desperately escaping from his mouth.

The captain of the Knights of Seiros furrowed his eyebrows in concern.

"Hey, kid. You feeling alright?" He inquired as he knelt.

"I...I feel like I've m-melted into a fine paste," Lucas heaved. "Gimme a moment. I'll get back up soon. Also, hi Jeralt. N-nice to talk to you again."

"You too, kid. Glad to see you're up and about...kind of." Jeralt briefly leered at Edelgard, who simply frowned in response. "Anyway, make sure you don't get overworked. There's such a thing as too much training."

"Says the guy who k-kicked me around a whole lot," Lucas quipped between breaths.

"At least I actually gave you substantial breaks. I never let you get like this," Jeralt commented, restraining himself from leering at Edelgard again.

"You never had to deal with his unique condition. His five year rest has somehow distorted his body - likely from extreme underuse. Don't blame me for attempting to fix it," the Adrestian princess defended herself.

"Brute forcing this was never gonna help. Enacting extreme physical torture on someone whose body was already compromised…" Jeralt shook his head in disapproval. "What possessed you to even think that was a good idea? I'm sure your intentions were pure, but if you just stopped and thought about it for even a second, you'd realize how ridiculous it was."

"I was doing it for the better of us all."

"A vague reply, huh? You've really got no good reason for it." Jeralt paused, an idea coming to his mind. "Hmm."

"What now? Do you have further criticisms for me, Captain?" Edelgard wondered, in a mildly disrespectful manner.

"Not quite. I'm all out of those. I'm just thinking about the real reason why you dragged the poor guy over here."

"'Real' reason?"

Jeralt nodded for the sake of verification. "I wonder if there's something personal to it. Maybe the war's getting to you, or maybe it's the fact that your home is off-limits. I can't say either way. Perhaps you're lonely. I don't know what it is. Just be aware."

"Of what?" Edelgard queried.

"Of the consequences of your actions," Jeralt clarified. "Work him too hard and we'll lose one of our closest allies. Try not to let any personal biases or problems cloud your judgment. Or else others will have to suffer from your mistakes."

Edelgard had no response to that. She remained quiet, only nodding to confirm an understanding of the captain's message.

Dark memories of hers had returned.

Content with her response, Jeralt moved his attention over to Lucas' slowly and ever-so gradually calming self. He reached out his arm.

"Need a hand?" The old man asked, offering an open palm.

Lucas immediately snatched Jeralt's hand. He held on as tightly as he could - which wasn't much. His strength had clearly yet to recover entirely.

The knight smirked, and pulled the young man back to his feet.

"T-Thanks," Lucas stuttered, wobbling around while standing. "You're always helping me, m-man. Much appreciated."

"And you're always helping us. It's the least I can do," Jeralt smiled. "So, uh, when'd you wake up? I've been away from the monastery for a handful of days, so I missed your reawakening."

"About two days ago, I think?" Lucas assumed. "Wait, where were you? I-I thought everyone was staying here at Garreg Mach."

"We are. It's just that, recently, we've needed to head out on small hunting expeditions to get more food and water for everyone. Our own supplies are running out. If we don't get help soon, then we're all just gonna die," Jeralt explained to him.

"Oh...I'm guessing the reason you haven't done anything yet is because of me, right? Seteth said something like that when I woke up," inquired Lucas, his face taking on a depressive nature.

"Yeah. He wanted to wait for your predictions on the war before doing anything drastic. We were almost getting to the point where we were gonna move out regardless if you were awake or not. But now that you're here, I imagine we'll be in a better situation before long. That said, what IS our plan right now? Seteth told me he had some ideas, but he never settled on anything."

"He said he wanted to contact Claude and get the Alliance's help. Which makes perfect sense. We'll need more allies to even have a chance against the Empire. Not to mention we'd also need their supplies, it seems."

"Ah, so he's gone ahead with that one," commented Jeralt. "I don't have any problems with the Alliance. Though, I am concerned about all the infighting that's going on there."

"Oh yeah. I heard about that. I knew about that. Half of the lords have sided with the Empire, right?" Lucas wondered.

"That's right. Stuck-up, arrogant nobles can be very stubborn people. I have no idea how we're gonna get 'em all to calm down. Short of killing them, of course. But there's no way we'll be doing that…"

Lucas smirked. "Claude can handle it. I know he can."

Jeralt was about to refute, yet he stopped himself when he remembered exactly who it was he'd been talking to.

"Alright," he said. "I'll take your word for it, kid. I'll believe in your student. Wait, was he even one of yours? Agh, doesn't matter. They're all the same to me."

"Heh. Thanks, Jeralt. Hopefully we can start getting some supplies real soon. Seteth said he sent out a letter to Derdriu, which is where Claude is based. We should get a reply at some point. I hope."

"I hope so too."

Jeralt sighed, easing whatever tension he'd built up. He briefly glimpsed the mentally distant, white-haired princess before focusing on the pathway to the training grounds' exit.

"Well, I've gotta head out. Need to do some logistics regarding all the food we caught. The chefs and everyone else need to know exactly what we've got. See you later, kid. Make sure not to get overworked again," the ex-mercenary advised.

"I'll t-try not to. Bye, Jeralt," Lucas replied.

Giving only a simple wave as he walked away, Jeralt headed over to the exit he sighted moments earlier. He walked with some manner of contentment within his step - as if he was satisfied somehow.

Lucas wasn't sure if he felt the same way. He spun around on the spot, facing his former student.

She was still seemingly staring at only the ground. However, he recognised that expression. Her distant gaze, locked onto an invisible, nightmarish target. One she wouldn't be able to readily pull herself away from.

Determination surged through him. Fighting the pain buried deep in his bones, he placed a hand on her leftmost shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Lucas asked her.

Edelgard shivered to the touch. She nervously turned around, only relaxing once she realized she was within reality.

"I...I'm fine," she claimed. "I apologize for treating you as violently as I have."

"Don't worry too much about that. I don't mind the heavy training," he reassured.

"What? You don't?"

Lucas shook his head. "Not at all. It's the only way I'm gonna get anywhere near as strong as the rest of you, what with the five year head start you've all had. Don't get too worried about what Jeralt said. He's just looking out for me, is all. Think I might know why as well."

"If you don't mind me asking, why would that be?"

"Probably got something to do with-"

And then he became completely and utterly silent. His stare was pointed directly towards a distant wall, but Edelgard could tell - there was more to it than that.

His expression was much the same hers had been moments earlier. At first. But then his face stuttered slightly, twitching in a most minute manner. Later on, his expression changed emotion entirely.

She looked at him dumbfoundedly.

"It's as if he is having a conversation with someone inside of his mind, but that doesn't make any sense," Edelgard privately commented to herself. "Could he perhaps be speaking to himself? Doubtful. If that were the case, why would he interrupt himself?"

The princess frowned.

"More of his secrets. That-"

She stopped. Her countenance became one of fearful realization. A memory, a certain incident had been suddenly returned to the forefront of her soul.

Deep within her forlorn expression, she could see the harrowing image of her retainer, cloaked in blood and with a sizable hole in the middle of his chest.

His lips moved, barely eking out a single sentence.

"I apologize for keeping so many secrets from you…"

The pained woman gasped. A rush of emotion coursed straight through her being, of which ended with rage.

"No," she said internally, as a blazing anger erupted within. "No more. No more secrets!"

With a surge of desperation, she aggressively waved a hand in front of Lucas' blank expression. His pupils focused upon her.

"Wha-is everything okay, Edelgard?" He wondered in an almost panicked and somewhat relieved tone.

"This must stop," she demanded.

"Huh?" Lucas appeared wholly confused. "What must stop? What's going on?"

"I understand that privacy is something we all have a right to. However, I simply cannot permit your continued hiding of the complete truth," she explained, staring right into his eyes. "Tell me, my former teacher. What are you?"

"What am I? That's a loaded question. I don't know if I-"

"No." Edelgard shook her head, interrupting Lucas' reply. "I know you wish to shy away from uncomfortable topics, but it is impossible to avert your eyes from reality. If you were to die tomorrow, with no-one else knowing of your truth - it shall die with you. Nobody will know who you truly are. Can you accept that?"

"Well, I mean, Jeralt knows," Lucas nervously revealed. "But even then, does it really matter if anyone else does? I'm not sure if it's all that relevant. Especially to the war. W-Where are you going with this?"

"I remember what happened. Back at the Sealed Forest. You made use of some unknown, divine power. That, in of itself, has told me there is much more to you than I otherwise could have known."

Edelgard released a faint smile, paired with a sorrowful expression.

"I also wish to learn more about a dear friend of mine."

Lucas was speechless. He had no initial response for such a statement. He turned away, struggling with his emotions.

"Am I really a dear friend of yours?" He questioned, completely perplexed.

"Of course. You have helped me time and time again. That is precisely what friends are for. Without you, I would not be where I am now. I would likely be with Thales instead, becoming nothing more than a puppet for his plans. You have done so much for me, Lucas. I cannot thank you enough."

"But I'm the reason Hubert died. If I hadn't spoken to you about the future, you wouldn't have been tempted to divert from your path as the Flame Emperor. You wouldn't have been so defiant with Thales. Therefore, Hubert wouldn't have died by his hands. Can you really call someone who caused all that...your friend?"

Edelgard scowled, and sighed.

"When we first spoke after your awakening, do you recall what I told you?"

"N-No," admitted Lucas.

"Then allow me to repeat myself," Edelgard paused, using the time to remind herself of her own words. "What ifs, should haves, and if onlys. Disregard them all, for they will only slow you down. Should they do so - you will not be able to move forward."

Lucas' gaze returned to his friend.

"That is to say, my former teacher, that you must not worry about what may have happened. Certainly, Hubert may be alive as of now had I not heeded your words. But I would also be locked in the dark embrace of my 'uncle'. There is both good and bad to be had with any outcome," Edelgard continued. "I do not blame you for Hubert's death. Because of that, I can see you as my friend. In fact…"

Lucas became worried as he waited apprehensively for Edelgard to resume.

"With Hubert no longer alive and the rest of the Black Eagles far away from the monastery, you are the only friend I have remaining. The only person left I can truly rely upon," she disclosed. "Which hurts me."

"Huh? Did I do something wrong? I thought you were saying good things about me," Lucas fretted.

"I mean no offense," Edelgard smiled reassuringly. "It is a problem that solely rests within myself. I...find it overwhelmingly difficult to place my trust in others. One would have to prove themselves worthy of my trust. Otherwise, I can only assume the worst of them. However, in spite of that, it's still quite the struggle to even believe in my closest of allies."

"So you're saying you still don't completely trust me, despite everything I've told you?"

"Precisely," confirmed Edelgard. "Since you are my last and only friend, to even have any doubts towards you, it…"

"I get it." Lucas raised a palm, silencing the princess. "I can't exactly relate, but I understand how it feels to be contradictory. To want something, and yet to deny yourself of that very thing - it's torture. I won't let you go through that. Not anymore."

"Does that mean…?"

"Yes."

Lucas nodded.

"I'll tell you all there is to know about me. No more secrets," he finally accepted. "Come to my room. We'll talk there. I should still have the key in my uniform here."

Edelgard smiled - genuinely.

"Thank you, my friend."

Together, they wandered out of the training grounds. Lucas needed to utilise Edelgard as a beacon of support for his movement; his body still ached. T'was a role she could accept, however.

She didn't mind helping someone who'd helped her so many times before. The fallen princess led her erstwhile professor towards his bedroom.

Hidden deep within the depths of the Imperial palace was a grimy, lightless room, lined with plentiful holding cells. Only a single window rested upon the wall at the furthest end of the room. It was adjacent to the narrow stretch of filthy, stone flooring that divided the left and right sides of the dungeon.

Within the two sides were the cells. Not many individuals were entrapped inside their steel, magically-enhanced enclosures. Though, with the obnoxious volume of one particular prisoner, the whole place may as well have been full.

"Ugh! You masked freaks! Better let me outta here, or else the Unbound King of Grappling will be after your damn heads!" The unpleasant one shouted as loud as he could, locked in fierce combat with his metal bindings that kept his arms chained to the back wall of his cell. His grey, dirty uniform attire only grew more torn the more he roughed himself up. "Let me outta here, damn it!"

"Enough, Balthus. You've been here for a year. If they haven't listened to you this entire time, what makes you think they'll listen now?" A lavender-haired, similarly grey uniformed individual questioned the actions of his friend. He too was chained to the wall of his holding cell, yet he made no attempt to break free.

"Anything's possible if you try hard enough! You should know that, Yuri, old pal," Balthus responded. "What's with these chains, though? I'm barely making any progress!"

"They have likely accommodated for your hugely muscular build. It seems as if the Adrestians were rather thorough in our imprisonment," a feminine voice, someone who also wore a similar uniform to the previous two, added to the conversation. "They have even enchanted our cells with Silence...they were aware that we all possess some manner of skill in the magical arts."

"True. They really studied up on us, huh? I have to applaud them for their information gathering skills. It might rival even mine," Yuri remarked.

He leaned against his cell's back wall, the one he was chained to, and released a weak laugh. The other two ignored him.

"Say, Constance," Balthus addressed his fellow former Ashen Wolf. "Weren't you working on some kinda spell to get us all outta here?"

"It is quite difficult to prepare any manner of spell when you are being suppressed by Silence. I can barely even feel my mana. To even prepare a spell - it's impossible," Constance answered with a vehement shake of her head. "Even if I were to have one at the ready, I wouldn't dare use it without the presence of our lovely Hapi. Where is that girl, I wonder?"

"Who knows." Balthus shrugged. "Guess we really don't have many options, then. You've been here for, what, five years? If even you can't get anything done in that time, then is there really any way out…?"

His vain efforts to break free of his restraints slowly faded as his words trailed off. Yuri raised an eyebrow.

"Pretty sure we've told you that a thousand times over the course of this year, big guy," he stated.

"Hey! My memory's not what it used to be!" Balthus defended himself.

"We're in a dungeon. All of us have been here for at least a year. Nothing's changed, and we haven't moved anywhere. What else is there to remember?" Yuri countered, his expression full of doubt.

"Leave me alone, pal. Or else you'll get a fistful of the Unchained King of Grappling."

"Unchained. Yeah, sure. Let me know when that happens. Though, warning you now, I might already be dead by then," mocked Yuri with a smug grin. "Old age and all that."

"You'll be dead for sure when I'm through with you, pal!"

Constance sighed. She made to place a hand on her long, blonde hair - yet the chains made her unable to do so.

"Cease your prattle!" The woman demanded. "I am much too exhausted to listen to your irksome bickering for any longer. Fighting amongst one another is certainly not the key to our escape. If anything, that shall only be a hindrance. Remember that before you think of arguing once again."

Yuri smirked. "Heh. You're absolutely right. My apologies, Balthus, Constance. Being locked in this damn cell for half a decade certainly puts a strain on you."

"Couldn't agree more, pal. I've only been here for one year, but five? That's gotta be crazy. How haven't you gone insane?" Balthus asked.

"I have my ways, friend. I have my ways."

Balthus and Constance merely looked at each other and shrugged, unsure of what to make regarding Yuri's most recent statement. They chose to largely ignore its implications. With nothing else to say or bring up, they all fell to silence.

Only the noise of rats squeaking and scurrying around could be heard.

Minutes became hours. The faint light pouring in through the layered window faded as day became night. Silence persisted within the dungeon all the while.

Until there were distant sounds of collisions, crashes and disgruntled yells. They were just far away enough that, ordinarily, one might not be able to hear them.

Yet Yuri did.

"Someone's coming," he warned his friends.

"What's that, pal? Who's coming?" Balthus inquired.

"You'll see. They should be here any moment now," Yuri partially clarified.

Their interest piqued. Yuri, Constance and Balthus redirected their attention from the cold isolation of their cells and instead focused upon the double doors that were some ways further down the narrow, dank hall.

Moments later, a pair of heavily armored guards burst through the doors. Someone was within their grasp. They continually failed to wriggle free. Their admirable, audacious nature combined with their dark complexion and red hair made them instantly recognizable to the Ashen Wolves.

"Hapi!" Constance called out.

The girl in question looked over, as if to respond, yet said nothing. The guards pushed her.

"Stay quiet over there!" One of them ordered.

"Heh. Quiet. Nice choice of wording there, buddy," the other commented with a smirk. "Sure you don't wanna be a jester?"

"You stay quiet, too," the first guard replied to his friend's remark. "Let's just get this prisoner over there."

Happily accepting their shared responsibility, the guards forcibly shoved Hapi throughout the dungeon's tight hall and forced her into a cell, ensuring to chain her up to the back wall. Just like all the others.

Yuri, Constance and Balthus waited until the guards left. As her cell was right next to the new prisoner's, the heir of House Nuvelle was the first to speak.

"Hapi! Oh my dear friend, how are you?" She asked in a worrisome tone, getting as close to her friend's holding cell as she possibly could - she was still quite some distance away.

There was no verbal response. Instead, Hapi merely raised a thumbs-up and grinned. Constance looked on with confusion.

"Is something the matter? Why are you not speaking? They didn't torture you or anything horrendous such as that, did they?" She queried.

Hapi, again, didn't reply. She instead leaned her head back and pointed to her neck.

"Your neck?" Constance questioned, her addlement only increasing. She squinted at the pointed body part, attempting to find anything unusual. "What could possibly be…"

The blonde haired girl gasped. Tears welled up in her eyes as sorrow and pity took hold. Yuri and Balthus were both further away from Hapi's cell, which meant they were in the dark about the unfortunate discovery that had just been made.

"Constance? What's wrong?" Yuri wondered. "What happened to her?"

"She...her voice, Yuri, they've-" Constance interrupted herself with a flood of depressive emotion.

"What happened to her voice?" Balthus said with a serious tone.

Her reply was drowned out by the sound of her cries. As her arms were locked permanently to the cell's wall, her tears fell straight to the floor.

An answer eventually came. But not from Constance.

"Your friend shall never speak or sigh ever again."

Yuri and Balthus gazed up, finding a duo of familiar faces staring back at them with stern expressions.

"Oh, it's you two again. Great. Would you mind clarifying what you just said…" requested Yuri. He took a brief pause. "Ferdinand and Petra?"

The long, orange-haired knight of the Adrestian Empire's military and his comrade-in-arms, a fierce Brigid huntress - they both scowled.

"What I mean to say is this," Ferdinand answered, clearing his throat. "Our finest researchers have discovered a method for taking away a person's voice. See those red marks upon her neck. Your friend can no longer speak, or sigh."

"What?!" Balthus exclaimed, enraged. "You mean to say you stole Hapi's voice?!"

"Indeed we did," the Aegir heir confirmed in a calm manner.

"You bastard! Why the hell would you even do that?!" Balthus questioned. He attempted to use his fury to break free of his bindings, yet was unable to do so.

"If we hadn't, her vexatious ability to summon beasts at any time would have caused many complications for us. It seems sighing and general speech are somehow linked. Either way, we had to keep her unconscious until our researchers were able to do what they needed," Ferdinand explained. "In fact, her ability is what has allowed her to escape our grasp for so long. But not anymore."

"Yes. The prey has been captured," Petra added. "This is what the Emperor was wanting."

Yuri glared at the pair of former Black Eagles. His resentment was clear to see, yet neither of the Adrestian soldiers were fazed.

"What happened to you two? Back at the monastery, you seemed like some pretty nice people. But now you're the exact opposite. You're as evil as they come," seethed Yuri.

"Be quiet. You have no right to question our path," Ferdinand retorted. "All we do is in service for the Empire. Isn't that right, Petra?"

"It is. Helping the Empire also helps Brigid. I do not have another option," Petra concurred with her partner.

"So you've become lapdogs of the Imperial army. You can't think for yourselves. You know, when I first saw you two in the palace all those years ago, I hoped you were there to get me out. How naïve I was," Yuri growled.

"I should have expected such base behaviour from a rat like you. Fitting how you're locked away within here. I assumed visiting you would be some manner of fun, but it appears that has not become the case," Ferdinand replied as he turned towards the exit. "Let us go, Petra. We must not waste any further time with these animals."

"Of course." Petra nodded in acceptance of her orders.

The two Adrestians led themselves away from the dungeon, returning to the sheer luxury of the overall palace.

As soon as the four of them were alone, Yuri and Balthus laid back in defeat. The additional sounds of Constance's continued whimpers filled the musty air. Hapi followed suit after the boys, though she kept an eye on her crying friend.

Yuri and Balthus shared a glance - their cells were next to one another.

"Hey, pal," the latter of the two men asked, his voice carrying nothing but grief.

"What is it, my friend?" The lavender-haired one answered.

"Are we all gonna die here?"

Yuri hesitated. He wished to not answer. His reluctance was evident, yet Balthus waited for his pal's reply regardless.

"I don't know."

Author Notes: Sure hope you guys don't have a lot of words for me for this one.

Jokes aside, I'm very sorry about the delay for this one. Meant to get it out on Sunday, but I had a depressive spell around then that made it difficult to write. Hopefully I'm okay now. Chapter 40 should still happen this week. But if it doesn't, you might know why.

Normally, this is the part where I'd do review responses, but I somehow don't feel it's appropriate this time around. I'll be sure to do them next time, though. See you then!

If you want a cool place to hang out, talk about random stuff (mainly fanfiction), then the Fanfiction Treehouse Discord server is the place for you! I'm there, as are a whole bunch of writers you may have heard about! Here's the invite code: 9XG3U7a.