Almost a week later, on the 19th of the Verdant Rain Moon, the Resistance returned to Garreg Mach. Shambhala had been reduced to a caved-in city of rubble, caused by the hands of those that once lived there. It was unknown if any of the Agarthans survived but the Resistance knew their assault was rather thorough. If any survived, there would only be a very small handful of them left.

Dealing with them would have to wait for later. For now, the Resistance regrouped at Garreg Mach, preparing for the inevitable arrival of the Agarthans' final scheme.

Lucas had something he needed to do, however. The next day following the Resistance's return to the monastery, he made his way up to the top floor of the central building, stopping in front of the set of locked, wooden double doors that led to Rhea's quarters.

Without even getting a chance to breathe a calming sigh or begin knocking, Lucas was stopped by the soothing voice of the archbishop.

"You have returned…" An audible sigh came from within. "Mother…"

A freezing chill was sent through his spine. Lucas shuddered. He was about to speak yet Rhea interrupted him once again.

"My door is always open to you."

Lucas shuddered again. He felt an urge to run away, to ignore the side of him that genuinely wished to visit her, but it was too strong. He pressed his hands up against the doors and lightly pushed them open, gently guiding them to the sides of the doorway.

Rhea, garbed in the uniform of the archbishop without her headpiece, was seated at the desk in front of her bed, reading a book. The cover was torn and heavily worn, showing its age. Lucas gently closed the doors and properly walked inside.

"Hi, uh…" He greeted her with a wave. "How are you?"

"I am fine. Thank you very much for asking." Rhea smiled, continuing to stare at the pages of her book. "I am always happy when you are near."

"R-right. I'm glad to see that you're okay. You're not hurt at all?"

Rhea shook her head. "No, I am uninjured. Nothing is ailing me. Your concern is always appreciated." She motioned to the seat on the opposite side of the table. "Please, sit with me. I would very much like to speak with you."

"Er…" Lucas hesitated. "Sure."

Despite his better judgment, Lucas did what was asked of him, walking over and sitting down on the spare seat opposite Rhea. She glanced at him for only a brief second before going back to her book.

The two sat there in silence - until Rhea spoke.

"Do you recall this novel, Mother?"

Lucas stared at the worn cover of the book, as well as the faint markings on the back, closely scrutinizing any key details he could find. He wanted to shake his head but Rhea's presence made him realize that wouldn't have been a good idea.

"Sothis? Do you have any idea what this book is?" He asked the goddess living in his mind.

Sothis, who was leaning on one of her throne's arm rests, shrugged.

"I do not know. I have read many stories to my children in the past - I cannot be expected to remember them all," she replied. "Make something up. Just keep her happy."

"Should we really be doing this?" Byleth wondered with a concerned look. "Perhaps telling the truth to Rhea would be easier. Lucas is not her mother."

Sothis turned to her right, facing Byleth. "You are correct. However, you know what my daughter is like when she is angry. It would be best to remain on her good side."

"Ah…" Byleth's eyes briefly widened. He nodded. "I understand." He turned to Lucas, who was standing at the base of the staircase leading to the throne. "Keep her happy, Lucas. Please…do not allow her to succumb to her emotions."

"Succumb to her emotions…?" Lucas raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? I don't get it."

"Remember what happens in your game. Do not allow that to come to pass."

"In the game? What are you-"

Lucas stopped, his mouth falling slightly agape.

"Oh. That's what you're talking about. Yeah, I won't let that happen." He nodded with a determined expression. "I wanna keep everyone alive, and if I have to roleplay as Sothis to ensure that happens, then so be it. Bring on the roleplay, I-I guess."

"I will guide you if need be. I can answer any specific questions or remarks about the past my daughter may have." Sothis leaned forward in her seat. "Do try to keep her alive."

"I'll do my best."

The conversation in his mind faded, Lucas' vision returning him to the physical world. Rhea was still reading her book, flicking through its pages, patiently waiting for a response.

"Um, I remember that book," he lied, speaking out loud. "Was that the one with the story about the fox and the squirrel?"

"It seems your memory hasn't fully returned." Rhea's eyes closed, her visage gaining a brief flash of sorrow. Her smile eventually returned, though it was slightly muted. "No matter. It will come in time. This…"

She held the book up, allowing Lucas to get a better look at its damaged state.

"This was the first story you had ever written for us, Mother. You called it…" Rhea paused for a second. "'The Shadow Dragon and the Blade of Light'. I loved it, as did Cichol. It is my favorite of your stories."

Lucas blinked.

"Sothis, you wrote that?!" Lucas asked the goddess.

"So it seems. Why do you ask? Do you recognize that name somehow?"

"I do." Lucas nodded. "That's the name of the very first Fire Emblem game, the same series Fódlan is a part of. There's no way that's just a coincidence…"

Sothis put a hand to her chin as she leaned forward on the throne. "Hmm, how intriguing." She sighed. "I suppose there isn't much that can be done about it either way. Do not allow it to distract you from your conversation with my daughter."

"Right, okay."

Doing his best to ignore the name of the book, Lucas refocused himself on the discussion at hand. He smiled at Rhea.

"A-ah, yeah, that one…" He nervously chuckled. "My memory really is terrible. That's the one with the Hero-King, right? I'm glad you enjoy it."

Rhea's unusually warming smile returned in full. "It is a rather intriguing tale. This copy I have in my hands…it is the very same one you gave to me all those years ago." She looked down at the book in her grasp. "I have kept it safe ever since that day."

"That's great. Again, I'm glad you like it that much. Perhaps I can write more stories now that I'm back."

"That would be most wonderful, Mother. Your storytelling has always been fascinating. I believe Cichol was inspired by your work - he writes to this day."

"Ah, that's good. For his daughter, Cethleann, I believe her name is?"

Rhea nodded, humming in assent. "Yes. Cethleann is such a lovely child." Her expression fell, her smile fading and transforming into a sorrowful frown. "She is living proof that our kind has not yet become extinct."

Lucas changed his expression to match hers.

"At least the ones behind the tragedy are all dead. Those Agarthans…we took care of them. Their home, Shambhala, is all but destroyed. There's no way they survived."

"Yes…how very fortunate." Rhea's gaze cast itself to the ceiling. "After such a long time, we finally know peace…if only the others were alive to witness this momentous occasion."

"Uh, well, not quite." Lucas shook his head. "We're not quite at peace yet. There's still one more battle we have to fight."

Rhea scowled.

"Nemesis…." She said with venom in her tone. "The heretic that brought ruin to our home dares to return to life. I will kill him myself, for your sake, Mother. Never again…I will never again allow him to bring harm to you."

"Um, thank you. I don't want him to harm you, either. I'll watch out for you, my, uh…my daughter."

Rhea's scowl instantly disappeared, replacing itself with a content smile.

"Mother…I am overjoyed to hear you say such a thing. I…I have missed you. Your presence provided me with such warmth, I-I never wish to let that go again. I want you to stay with me, forever…"

A mist formed within her eyes, tears beginning to well up. Despite the copious amounts of sniffling she was going through, Rhea was smiling, clasping her hands together in front of her chest.

"Rhea-I mean, Seiros, I…" Lucas furrowed his brows. "Please don't cry. I'll, um, here-"

Rushing up to leave his seat, Lucas swung around the side of the table and wiped at the top of Rhea's cheeks with the sleeve of his professor uniform. As she felt the warmth of the fabric brushing against her face, Rhea froze.

"Mother, you…"

"It's okay, Seiros. I'm…I'm here for you."

Rhea sniffled again. Overcome with emotion, she was unable to say anything. Instead, she buried her head in his chest, weeping into the comforting fabrics of his uniform.

Lucas was stunned.

"Wha-oh, I, uh…there there?" He said, reluctantly patting the Nabatean on the head. "It's okay, er, Seiros…it's okay. Your m-mother's here for you. Always and forever."

"Mother…!" Rhea cried between sobs.

"Shh…it's okay, it's okay. Let it all out, Seiros. Let it all out. I'm…proud of you."

Rhea was unable to give a response with any further detail than more sobs. Lucas felt the weight of her head against his chest, also able to faintly feel the damp spots forming on his uniform where Rhea's tears were falling onto. Although there was an uncertainty to his every action and word, Lucas carried on, regardless of whatever emotion he felt.

He continued to gently rub Rhea's head, providing her with as soothing of an experience as he could provide.

"This doesn't feel right," he commented within his head as he comforted Rhea. "But it also does at the same time? This is so weird."

"It's better than allowing her to become berserk," Byleth replied.

Lucas nodded. "True." He sighed. "Very true."

The moment between them lasted a while longer. Rhea's tears eventually dried, though she couldn't pull herself away from the person she believed to be her mother. Lucas, in turn, stopped rubbing her head, instead allowing his head to rest upon her soft, green hair.

They stayed this way in silence - until someone knocked on the door.

"Seiros," Seteth called from outside, using a low, quiet volume to his voice. "Are you awake?"

Rhea turned to the door, as did Lucas. "Cichol…" She said quietly, initially not intending to reply. "I…I am awake, yes. Is there something you need?"

"Yes, there is. Is…" Seteth paused, seemingly hesitating. "Is Mother in there with you?"

"She is," Rhea replied with a slight joyful tone.

"I see. May I…borrow her for a short time? I have many things I would like to ask her about if it's not too much trouble for you."

"Ah-"

Rhea partially released herself from the embrace, staring up at the face of her mother. There was a sense of reluctance in her expression, her brows furrowing. Lucas didn't return the gaze, merely looking at the door with a hopeful countenance. Rhea sniffled once more, wiping her eyes with the archbishop's dress she was wearing.

She let go, yet she was trembling.

"Y-you may."

"Thank you. I understand how difficult this may be for you, but I promise that she will return to you soon. Mother is busy, as you well know, so it is likely to be some time before that can happen. But I have nothing aside from the utmost faith that she will return to you at her earliest convenience. You needn't concern yourself, Seiros. Mother is always with us."

"I…understand." Rhea glanced at Lucas. "You may go now, Mother. But, please…promise me that you will return. I do not wish to be alone again…"

"Don't worry, Seiros. I'll come back as soon as I can. I promise."

Lucas smiled at her. It seemed to be enough to ease her woes, as her worried brow disappeared and was replaced with a hopeful, happy, and content expression. Sensing the change in her demeanor, Lucas walked over to the double doors.

"I'll see you later, Seiros."

With a single push, Lucas opened the doors and left Rhea's quarters.

Standing beside the doorway was Seteth, whose expression was outwardly calm, belying the true nature of his emotions inside. Lucas stared at him with uncertainty. Before he could speak, Seteth raised a finger.

"Let us speak elsewhere," he whispered. Lucas gave him a confused look but then Seteth's nod in the direction of Rhea's quarters was the silent answer the Brit needed. "The Star Terrace."

Lucas nodded, staying silent while he was near Rhea's room. He held his breath, feeling the awkward tension of the situation at hand. It gradually dissipated the further away he got from the bedroom and the closer he was to the terrace, thus he released his held breath.

Seteth and Lucas stopped in place in the middle of the Star Terrace, the two of them standing between the two small ponds.

"So…" Lucas began. "You know what's going on?"

Seteth nodded. "I do. Rhea believes you are our mother. While her assumption isn't entirely baseless, it is most certainly misguided. I wish to speak to her about it, yet…I find myself unable to bring up the topic around her. I am glad she does not know of that body within the Holy Tomb. Considering how she is now, I do not know how she would react to it…"

Lucas tilted his head, confused.

"The what now?"

"The body in the Holy Tomb. We found it when we were down there to locate the gift Rhea left behind for you before her capture. It was resting upon the throne of the goddess. Do you not recall?"

Lucas shook his head.

"Hmm." Seteth frowned, putting a hand to his chin. "Very well. I have theorized it may have had something to do with her experiments, though I have been unable to confirm that theory with the way she is now."

"I, uh, I understand. You don't want to make her upset, right? It's the same with me. I have to pretend to be Sothis just so she doesn't flip out and transform on us. It's a very, very weird situation."

"Transform?" Seteth raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do you mean?"

"Well, in one of the futures I know, she inexplicably transforms into the Immaculate One and goes on a berserk rampage throughout the monastery. I don't know why it happens, though. I'm trying my best to prevent it, but I have no idea if what I'm doing is right or not." Lucas put a hand on his hip, leaning into it.

"Hmm, that would indeed be a problem. I cannot think of a possible reason for that to occur, either. I suppose you must be on the correct course of action if she is feeling joyous and not unhappy. Still…" Seteth frowned. "It would be unrealistic to expect you to continue this forever. Sooner or later, you will have to stop."

Lucas looked up to the morning sky, covered partially by clouds.

"Did you actually want to talk to your 'mother', Seteth? Or was there something else you were trying to do?" Lucas wondered.

Seteth briefly narrowed his eyes at Lucas before sighing. "Jeralt was calling for you. He said it was rather urgent, though he would refuse to elaborate when I asked. He is waiting for you in the captain's quarters."

"Oh, okay. Thanks. I'll, uh, I'll go see him."

Seteth was silent, merely nodding at Lucas in response. The professor turned around, intending to leave.

He was stopped before he could begin moving.

"Do not forget about the war council that will happen in two hours. You needn't have me tell you to not be late."

Lucas nodded, giving the Nabatean a sidelong glance. "Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me, Seteth." He turned to the open doorway. "I'll see you then."

Lucas then disappeared from the terrace, leaving the male Nabatean on his own.

His head cast to one of the ponds beneath him, Seteth stared at the fish that were swimming around within the small body of water.

"Seiros…what has happened to you?"

After leaving Seteth's side, Lucas made his way down to the first floor of the central building. He entered the corridor in the middle of the area, the one that was opposite the audience chamber, and stopped in front of the open door that led to the captain's quarters.

While approaching the doorway, Lucas reached out and knocked on the open door, doing so with enough force to make the ensuing knocking sounds loud enough for the man inside to hear.

Jeralt looked up from the paper he was reading while seated at his desk.

"You're here. Seems Seteth was able to pull you away from the archbishop," he commented, eying a bottle of alcohol that was on his desk, next to some other papers. "Didn't think he could do it. We all know how…stubborn she can get."

"Yeah. She's been acting very weird lately, thinking I'm her mother and all. We have to lie to her just so she doesn't flip out and go berserk or whatever. I don't like it, but…" Lucas sighed. "It's what has to be done."

Jeralt somberly nodded, eying his half-empty bottle of alcohol again. He motioned to the seats in front of his desk.

"Take a seat, kid. I've got some things I wanna talk to you about. Lock that door for me, will you?"

"Oh, sure."

Following the captain's requests, Lucas closed the door behind him, ensuring to lock it as tightly as he could. Once that was done, he walked over to the seats near Jeralt's desk and sat down in the one opposite the desk itself.

Jeralt leaned forward with a scrutinizing look.

"You probably already know this, but I'll say it anyway." Jeralt smirked. "I've never been one to talk mindlessly. If I say something, it's for a purpose. I don't like to waste anyone's time. That being said, come over here. Give me your hand."

"Uh, what? What are you-"

"Just give me your damn hand, kid. Close your eyes, as well. This needs to be a surprise."

Lucas blinked, staring at the elderly knight with a raised brow. He eventually shrugged, rising from his seat and walking over to the desk, closing his eyes once he got there. He stretched out his arm and opened his palm.

"Okay, what now?"

"Now you wait." Jeralt reached into the depths of his armored clothing. "I've gotta find something I put in my pockets. It'll be a second."

Lucas slightly tilted his head to the side. "Alright…? I'm not sure if I should be excited or terrified about this. For all I know, this could be some sort of prank. A practical joke, even. This better not be a whoopee cushion or anything like that-"

Something landed in his palm, something small, round, and metallic. Lucas frowned as he clenched his hand, trying to get a feel for what the strange item could be.

"What's this?" Lucas asked, eyes still closed.

"Open your eyes and find out," Jeralt replied, a grin on his face. "It's not a whoop-whatever. It's something a little more interesting than that…I think."

"Okay…"

Lucas opened his eyes and unfurled his hand, witnessing the true nature of the object Jeralt handed over to him.

He gasped, his body entirely frozen in complete shock. A small, ornate ring was in his grasp.

"Y-your ring?!" Lucas exclaimed. "Why did you-why?! I'm not even your son…why would you give this to me?"

"You deserve it, kid. You've done a lot for this world. Even though you weren't born here, you've still done a lot more good for this world than most people I've met. You've saved so many lives - including my own." Jeralt smirked again. "You probably deserve a lot more than this. But, for now, it's all I can give you."

"But I-"

Jeralt raised his hand, interjecting Lucas. "I won't let you deny it. Like I said earlier, I only say things that have meaning behind them. I'm not like some flowery noble that somehow manages to say nothing while spewing a whole fucking novel's worth of words. When I say something, I get straight to the point - I mean it." He pointed to Lucas' palm, which was holding the ring. "You deserve that thing, kid. No doubt about it."

"But…" Lucas looked down at the ring. "I d-don't even know what to do with this. This is a big thing to just suddenly spring on me, and-"

"You've been struggling recently, haven't you? With this war, I mean. You've seen all this death and suffering, even though you weren't prepared for any of it. Your time in your old world never prepared you for anything like this, I imagine. Am I wrong?"

Lucas paused, his face gaining a melancholic frown. He eventually shook his head.

"Right. And because of all that, you've been hit pretty hard. You've witnessed, firsthand, the deaths of your former students and friends - the people you care about. Seeing that kind of thing can change anybody. It can turn even the proudest of soldiers into a sobbing mess. I've seen it time and time again. The effects that loss has on a person…it's never pretty."

Lucas slowly nodded.

"Those that can keep on fighting, despite it all, have something. A place they can go back to, a thing they're trying to keep safe…or someone to protect. This someone's likely to be a person they deeply care for, someone that makes them feel better, someone that helps them deal with their pain…through whatever method works for them."

Jeralt looked up at Lucas' gloomy countenance.

"You've got someone like that, don't you?" He nodded to Lucas' palm. "Keep them close, kid, and never let them go. Otherwise, you'll just lose yourself to your pain. Got it?"

Lucas returned Jeralt's stare with a confused look. He swapped between the Blade Breaker and the ring in his hands as the gears in his mind turned.

"I d-don't have anyone…"

"No, you do. I'm not talking about the goddess or the future version of my son that are both in your head, either. You know exactly who I'm talking about."

"Um-"

"Just think about it. Give that ring to the person you love and they'll be with you for the rest of your life. That doesn't sound so bad to you, does it?"

Lucas had no response. He looked down at the ring, silently scrutinizing the potential it held.

He smiled.

"Th-thanks, Jeralt."

"You're welcome." Jeralt smiled in return. "You can leave now, if you want. I've already told you all I wanted to say."

"R-right. I'll, uh, I'll be going now. Bye."

Lucas grasped the ring in his hand, firmly putting it away in one of his inner pockets as he left the captain's quarters.

Once Jeralt was all alone, he returned to gazing longingly at the bottle of alcohol on his desk. He sighed.

"Might as well. It's not like Manuela's ever gonna be sober enough to find out…"

Reaching out for the glass bottle, Jeralt tore open the lid with his innate strength, pulling his arm back to bring the tip of the bottle to his lips. The cold taste of the drink quickly rushed down the innards of his mouth, its lasting effects bringing a warm sensation to his body.

Satisfied, Jeralt pulled the bottle away from him and stared at it.

"See all that, Sitri? I gave away your ring to the kid. Not our kid, but a kid all the same. He looked like he needed it, which is why I gave it to him. I hope you understand…"

He cast his gaze to the ceiling above.

"Maybe now I can finally live in peace."

Jeralt continued to drink his alcohol as his mind flashed back to a time long since passed.

As the sun suspended itself in the middle of the sky, bearing its light upon the world, Dorothea was staring up at its brilliance. Not directly at it, but in its general direction. She was seated on one of the benches in the courtyard beside the dining hall, taking in the immense heat of the summertime air.

A furrowed brow had been fixed to her face.

"It certainly is hot today…" She remarked, keeping her comments internalized. "Well, it's not the worst it's ever been, but still. At the very least, it's nowhere near cold. Makes me wish I was in Faerghus instead."

She sighed.

"But that wouldn't help. Not me, not anyone. If I wasn't here, people would still be dying, homes would continue to be lost, and children would still be forced onto the streets…" She leaned back on the bench, allowing her spine to rest up against the wooden makeup of the elongated seat. "As much as it hurts to continue fighting, at least I can have a hand in protecting those in need. But…"

She wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her dark red and brown dress, removing some of the sweat that formed.

"It's hard to do even that these days. These Agarthans…they have, no, had so much power. Their javelins of light could destroy entire cities. Such a thing as that…it doesn't even give people the time to escape. All those innocents, killed at the drop of a hat, all because some underground jerks wanted it to happen."

She frowned.

"I…I'm glad they're gone. They can no longer hurt anyone like that ever again. Even if it's somewhat brutal, it's probably best for everyone this way. And with them gone, the fighting should be over…right?"

Her frown faded as she sighed again, her arms slumping to her sides.

"It's hard to believe, but that might honestly be the case. I want it to be, as it'll mean nobody else has to die. We've all seen enough of that - it's finally time it stops. When this war ends, Fódlan will be at peace. And I-"

She blinked.

"I…" Dorothea paused. "What will I do? What's waiting for me once this is all over? What kind of life will I lead when we all go our separate ways? My time at the Officers Academy is over, so what else am I going to do…?"

Another pause came as Dorothea contemplated for a bit. Her eyes eventually widened.

"No…no, it can't be…I don't want to go back. I don't want to go back…!"

A lump formed in her throat. Her temperature rose, her breathing becoming slightly irregular and fast-paced. Dorothea ignored the world around her as panic started to take hold.

Fortunately, a friend was nearby. A hand was put on Dorothea's shoulder. The former songstress looked up, smiling underneath the presence of Petra.

"Dorothea! Are you…feeling good?" She asked with a concerned expression.

"I…I'm fine." The lump in her throat gradually disappeared and her breathing returned to normal. "I just-I had a moment there, that's all. Nothing to worry about."

"You were panicking. I am thinking that is something to worry about." Petra returned her only hand to her side, keeping her concerned look. "Please, Dorothea. Please be telling me what you are having concerns of. I may be helping."

Dorothea grinned. "Heh. I can never say no to you, Petra. Alright, I'll tell you."

She sat up, leaning forward in her seat and taking a deep breath before speaking again.

"You know how I'm a commoner, right? I don't have anything to my name. I don't have a home to return to, I don't have people to look after - I don't have any of the big things you have. Petra, you and the other nobles know what you'll be doing after the war ends. I'm sure even some of the other commoners here have an idea of what they'll be doing." Dorothea frowned. "But me? I have nothing. I…I don't know what I'll be doing once the war's over."

"And you are panicking because of that."

"Got it in one. I could return to the Mittelfrank Opera Company, but I would prefer to leave that life behind me if I can. The bad outweighs the good on that one, for me. However, I don't see any other option. What am I going to do…?"

Petra frowned as well, her expression also gaining a hint of sorrow. She nodded in understanding, sitting down next to Dorothea on the bench in a short-lived silence.

"I have understanding," said Petra. "I am a princess of Brigid, but my future is not with certainty. Are you remembering Emperor Arundel?" Dorothea nodded. She remained silent, allowing Petra to continue. "I was serving him as an Imperial general. He was…scary. Very scary. He was making all sorts of threats, which is why I was never leaving him. One of them, he…"

Petra briefly paused, sighing to calm herself.

"He was threatening to destroy Brigid. I was not knowing how he could be capable of that, so I was listening to him." She looked away, her gaze cast to the grass below. "Now I know he was having those…javelins of light. My country, it-"

Dorothea gasped, covering her suddenly agape mouth with a pair of cupped hands.

"No, you don't think…!"

Petra solemnly nodded, a slight mist forming in her eyes. "Brigid may no longer be existing. I am not knowing. After the war, I will be checking. If it is not there, I will not have a home. I will not be knowing what to do…"

"That's-" Dorothea lowered her hands, her mouth no longer as agape as it was moments earlier. "I'm so sorry, Petra. I…I don't know what else to say. That's terrible."

"I have many thanks, Dorothea." Petra wiped at her eyes, shutting down the emotion before it could properly show itself. "But you are not needing to worry."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Petra smiled, gazing up at the sky. "I am afraid of Brigid's, uh…wellbeing, but that is not the only thing. There is something else. Something…full of happiness."

"Something else?"

Petra blushed.

"There is a nice thing in my heart. Even if Brigid is not existing anymore, I can be following that other thing. You are knowing this feeling, yes, Dorothea?"

"You…" Dorothea's eyes widened. "You love someone, Petra?"

The princess nodded, fervently. "Yes. If Brigid is not existing, I can follow the feelings in my heart and be with that person for the rest of my life. It is a…a path forward for me. I am not full of fear for my future because I am knowing this path is there. I can be following my heart…"

"Following…your heart?"

Dorothea followed Petra's gaze, facing the sky once more. A faint redness appeared on her cheeks.

"It's that simple, huh…?" She laughed. "Heh, thanks Petra. You really helped me out there."

"It is the least I can be doing. I am happy that you are also now happy." Petra blinked, glancing at Dorothea. "Wait. You are also loving someone?"

Dorothea grinned. "Maybe. I've yet to decide that myself. But maybe I'll figure it out someday soon…hopefully before the war is over."

"You should be deciding with swiftness. You do not be wanting someone else to take your prey."

Dorothea gave Petra a confused look.

"What? Petra, romance is nothing like hunting. You can't be treating the person you like as an animal that's about to be consumed."

Petra raised an eyebrow. "Is that not what you are doing in romance? I thought-"

"Oh, goddess no!" Dorothea raised a hand, interrupting Petra while shaking her head. "Not in public, Petra."

"I am full of confusion. Was I saying the wrong thing…?"

Dorothea sighed. "No…look, Petra. There are some things you can't just talk about out in the open like that. You don't want people to overhear and get disgusted."

"I do not have understanding." Petra narrowed her eyes. "I am thinking these people should be, as you would say, 'getting over it'."

"What the…? Since when were you like this, Petra?"

"Always."

Dorothea's expression fell, shaking her head once again.

"You are unbelievable at times, you know that, Petra? In a good way, I mean. I'm not trying to put you down or anything, but I-"

"HEY!" Someone yelled nearby.

Their conversation interrupted, Dorothea and Petra suddenly looked ahead, out into the courtyard. A knight rushed through the area while a merchant was shaking their fist at said knight.

"Damn Knights of Seiros…can't watch where they're going. Almost broke my arm, the dastard!" The merchant angrily said to themselves.

Dorothea and Petra glanced at each other with two raised brows between them.

"What just happened?" Dorothea asked.

"I am not knowing. Maybe that merchant also needs to be 'getting over it'."

"Petra…"

Ignoring the behavior of her friend, Dorothea chose to look in the direction the knight rushed toward, having zoomed past the gate at the furthest end of the courtyard, heading toward the general area of the Officers Academy classrooms.

"I wonder what that knight's up to," she said to herself.

It was time for another war council to begin. Within the first floor of the central building, in the cardinal's room, the usual suspects were all there and accounted for. Seteth was once again sitting in the largest chair, the one at the end of the meeting table that was the furthest away from the door.

As before, he stood up, glanced at each of the meeting's participants and nodded.

"Greetings, all of you. I would like to congratulate you all on our successful efforts at Shambhala. We eradicated every last Agarthan we found. While we may not have killed them all, it is very unlikely they have survived their self-inflicted destruction of their home. Fódlan is but one step closer to peace," Seteth said to everyone, a faint smile on his face.

"Hmm…" Alois mildly frowned. "I'm still not sure if we did the right thing or not. Did we truly need to massacre those people the way we did?"

"It was to secure the continued peace and prosperity of Fódlan. No doubt we would all be wrought in further conflict had we not undertaken our assault," Dimitri replied, staring at Alois with a hint of disapproval in his eyes. "It was a necessary move."

"Well, when you put it that way, I have to agree. Still, I can't help but wonder if there was another way to go about it. A less…violent way of doing so, perhaps." Alois scratched the back of his head.

"The Agarthans have been festering in their hatred for over a thousand years. Nothing less than complete annihilation would have stopped them." Edelgard folded her arms, looking at Alois with a neutral visage. "I understand how you feel, Alois, but you must understand the Agarthans are the type that would never listen to such flowery words of ceasefire." She closed her eyes, her gaze cast to the table. "Words would never be enough for them."

"I suppose…" Alois sighed. "My apologies. Maybe I'll get used to it after a while."

"You've got a lot of time to do that, it seems," Judith remarked. She turned to Seteth. "The war's over now, isn't it? We can go home now, yeah?"

"Not quite." Seteth shook his head. "There is but one more battle before we can truly attain peace. One more obstacle that we must overcome. I trust you all remember what we discussed toward the end of our last meeting."

Everyone, aside from Lucas, Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude, entered a state of deep thinking. Some remembered faster than others. Seteth helped to remind those that weren't quite there yet.

"The revived Nemesis and the 10 Elites," he said. "They have yet to appear, though it is certain they will soon. We must be ready for when that moment comes."

"I almost don't want to believe it'll happen. However…" Manuela glanced at Lucas with a comforting smile. "If this is another one of my dear colleague's predictions, then it might as well be happening right now."

Lucas itched his cheek while responding with a slightly nervous chuckle. He looked away from Manuela as he did so. Catherine, meanwhile, sneered.

"You put too much faith in this guy, Manuela. What if he's wrong?" She questioned, folding her arms while doing her absolute best to avoid having Lucas in her sights.

"He hasn't been wrong before, has he? Maybe you're the one not putting enough faith in him. I mean, I would know about faith. I taught it at the Officers Academy, after all."

"That's not…" Catherine gave an irritated sigh. "Never mind. Guess I'll keep my opinions to myself, as always."

"This grudge of yours is getting old." Shamir shot her partner a sidelong glance. "No need to be so hostile to an ally. I'll help you get over it if you want."

Catherine's eyes widened slightly, only for a moment. Very faint patches of red appeared on her cheeks.

"That's not what I meant." Shamir grinned. "But if that's what you want…"

Seteth coughed into his fist, bringing attention back to him. "That is enough. Let us not distract ourselves from the purposes of this meeting."

Shamir and Catherine stopped what they were doing, yet they continued exchanging glances with each other for the rest of the meeting.

"Anyway, as for the battle with the revived Nemesis and the 10 Elites," Seteth turned to the black-haired Britishman, "Lucas, would you please describe to us the details of the battle itself?"

"O-oh!" Lucas responded with a nod, having been distracted. "Sure. So, uh, the fight's gonna be somewhat straightforward. There's gonna be Nemesis, the 10 Elites, as well as some other undead soldiers, I think. We'll have to focus our efforts on taking down all of the 10 Elites first, because Nemesis'll have this magical barrier that makes him practically invulnerable to all damage. The barrier is tied to the Elites, which means that getting rid of them should stop the magic flowing from them into Nemesis' barrier. Or something like that."

"I see. This battle is likely to be rather drawn out, it seems. Is there anything else we should know about?"

Lucas thought for a moment. "There might be an Agarthan there that'll keep sending in Demonic Beasts as reinforcements. I seem to remember that being the case. If we kill the Agarthan, though, that should stop the reinforcements. I think that's it…"

"We're gonna be fighting the 10 Elites, huh?" Claude rhetorically asked, leaning back in his seat. "I'd better read up on the effects of each of their Crests. If they can still use those, fighting them's gonna be tricky. I'll try to think up some strategies we can use to counter them."

"I have some research notes you might like to peruse, Claude," said Hanneman. "Some rather detailed notes, at that. You should find them quite useful."

"Got it. I'll come by your office later."

"Wow, that must be the first time anyone has ever said that to you, Hanneman." Manuela smirked. "Impressive."

"Please do be quiet, Manuela. A war council is not the time for your inane comments."

"It is not the time for any such petty squabbles," Seteth added, giving Hanneman and Manuela a stern look. "Do be quiet, you two."

The two professors shrunk under Seteth's gaze, quietening themselves down. Faint sounds of suppressed laughter came from somewhere around the time, earning Manuela and Hanneman's ire. Seteth ignored it and carried on.

Yet he was interrupted before he could even speak by Lucas.

"Oh! I almost forgot," he said, his eyes briefly expanded in realisation. "There should be a dark swamp around the battlefield where we fight Nemesis and his allies. We'll take damage if we stay in it for too long, so…let's not do that. It should disappear when we defeat the Elites, however. Or maybe it's a specific Elite we have to kill, I can't remember exactly."

"In that case, eliminating the 10 Elites shall be our utmost priority in the battle. Anything we should know about them in particular?"

"Um…" Lucas stopped so he could think for a short while. "I believe they wield dark versions of the Heroes' Relics. Thyrsus, Thunderbrand, the Lance of Ruin, Lúin - even the Sword of the Creator. Since they'll all have the appropriate Crests with which to use their Relics…"

"I see. This isn't to be an easy battle, most certainly. Thank you, Lucas. At the very least, we can plan for a suitable counteroffensive, just as Claude has suggested." Seteth smiled at the professor. "Is that all? Is there anything else you are forgetting, perhaps?"

Lucas shook his head. "No, that's it, I think. I'm pretty sure about that this time."

"Very well."

Turning his attention away from Lucas, Seteth looked out toward the entire table, preparing to address everyone at once.

"It is only a matter of time before we receive news of Nemesis' appearance. May you all prepare yourselves well for what shall be our final battle." Seteth briefly closed his eyes. "Our true final battle."

"There'll be no more fighting after this," Jeralt stated. "This war's been going on for nearly six whole years…I can't believe it's finally about to end."

"Assuming we succeed. That is not a guarantee," responded Gilbert.

Jeralt frowned at the orange-haired knight. "Have some confidence, will you? We've made it this far. We're not about to fall now, of all times."

"Hmph. I should hope not."

"We'll make it. Don't you worry yourselves about that. No matter who our last opponent is, we'll take them down like any other," Judith said with a confident expression.

"Indeed." Edelgard nodded. "We shall succeed no matter what."

"I agree. The Resistance has become quite the powerful military force. We shall not be so easily overcome, even against the likes of Nemesis and the 10 Elites. This battle shall determine the future of the continent…let us succeed, for Fódlan's sake."

Seteth glanced at each of the meeting's participants.

"This is likely to become our final war council together. Let us hope that we are able to meet again after the fight with Nemesis. Perhaps in a less war-focused manner." He smiled at his allies. "You may all leave-"

Just then, someone burst in through the door. A knight, one that was heavily panting and whose face was drenched in sweat, charged through the doorway.

"My a-apologies, Seteth, e-everyone else!" The knight bowed. "I have an urgent report from our scouts!"

"Normally, I would reprimand you for interrupting an official war council, but seeing as this is an urgent matter, I shall look the other way for now," Seteth replied. "What is the matter? Out with it."

"A-an unidentified military force…they're coming from the east! Th-they're razing all villages in their path, killing everyone they see! It seems they're approaching the Great Bridge of M-Myrddin…they may even be marching toward G-Garreg Mach!"

Everyone was silent, save for the knight's loud breaths. The meeting participants stared at one another in understanding.

Seteth frowned.

"It must be them," he said quietly. "It is time for us to bring an end to Fódlan's blood-stained history."

From that moment on, they all knew. They were all aware of the fight that was slowly coming their way.

The final battle for Fódlan's future was fast approaching.

Author Notes: Everyone's gearing up for the final battle with Nemesis and the 10 Elites. How will that go? Well, come back next time, and you'll find out!

Thanks to Frost for beta-reading!

Blazer: I'm sorry you feel that way.

Feel free to drop a favourite, follow, and/or a review, if you're so inclined! I'll see ya next time!

Hey, do you want a cool place to talk about fanfiction, anime, movies, games and things like that? Do you wanna be a part of an awesome group full of amazing people? If so, then why not visit the Fanfiction Treehouse Discord server? We've got all sorts of fanfic writers in there, including me! The invite code is: 9XG3U7a. See you there!