Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem Three Houses, all rights to the owners.

Okay, fine, we can focus on Claude again.


Claude is not impatient. He's never impatient. He's always calm and collected. Right now, he's just writing things in his notebook. Observations on the Abyss mostly, as well as some notes he's copying over about exactly what hags are. He is absolutely, positively not waiting for anything.

"There are safer places to sit than on top of the front gate." Mercedes says, pulling herself up next to him. "They might not even be back today. They said Monday at the earliest."

"Who says I'm waiting for Hilda?" Claude huffs. "Maybe I just like the view."

Mercedes smiles serenely. "I never specified Hilda. I was talking about your whole class."

Claude purses his lips. He's losing his edge apparently. "What do you want, Mercedes?"

"I'm supposed to keep an eye on you, remember?" Mercedes hums. She settles in next to him, letting her 'feet' dangle off the edge of the wall. "I swear you're in a different spot every time I try and find you. You could just stay in the same place you know, so I wouldn't have to spend time in-between each class tracking you down."

Claude is lucky. Because the Deer are away, they don't have any classes, so he has a ton of free time. "You could just stop checking on me."

"Now what sort of friend would I be if I did that?" Mercedes tuts.

"One that isn't nosy." Claude thinks, but he doesn't say that. He really has no right to criticize anything Mercedes does. He owes her too much. "A friend with more free time."

Mercedes shakes her head, obviously amused, and Claude resigns himself to the fact that Mercedes isn't going to leave him alone.

"If you're going to follow me around then, dear friend, might I ask you a few questions?" Claude asks. He might as well take advantage of Mercedes being around, right?

"Oh I suppose I wouldn't mind." Mercedes hums in amusement. "On one condition."

Claude grimaces. He showed his hand. He should have just started asking questions instead of requesting permission. "What?"

"You tell me what's in the notebook."

And this is why you don't ask permission. People make requests you don't want to fulfill. There's only one person he's shown his notebook to, ever, and it's not Mercedes and won't be Mercedes. "I'm not showing you the notebook." Claude says with perhaps a bit too much hostility in his voice.

"I didn't ask to see it, I asked what was in it." Mercedes says, unfazed by his reaction.

"I could just lie to you." Claude points out.

"You could." Mercedes agrees, not at all bothered. "So, do we have a deal?"

Claude really doesn't understand her. "Deal."

"Alright then, what do you want to know?" Mercedes asks. "I know I've already talked to you about myself before."

"You've told me about being an ooze." Claude corrects. "That's not everything about yourself, unless you'd like to imply there's nothing more to you than your species."

"My my, I wouldn't want to imply that." Mercedes says in amusement. "I suppose I'd better share more then, shouldn't I?"

Claude feels like he's being toyed with. Mercedes isn't taking him seriously at all, but maybe that's to his benefit. He says nothing, letting Mercedes start where she wishes.

"I am one Mercedes Von Martritz, also Mercedes Von Bartels, and even Mercedes Merca." Mercedes says. She stares out at the road leading down the mountainside, though Claude reminds himself that her vision isn't actually limited to where her 'eyes' are facing. "Born to two human parents despite my species. I still don't know why. Some curse, perhaps? A chance mutation? My father was the last male Martritz, and someone sabotaging his ability to have a child is not out of the question."

"A bid to remove a noble house." Claude says grimly. He's no stranger to noble politics.

"Perhaps." Mercedes nods. "I don't know, and if anyone ever found out I've never been told. Perhaps it was a cure, perhaps it was meant to kill me, or perhaps this form I've gotten is mockery. A crested ooze, unable to create children with someone else and carry on that crest…"

"Oozes reproduce asexually, right?"

"Indeed." Mercedes nods. "Like a cell, we can split ourselves in two. Our new other half can either retain our memories, becoming a clone of us, or it can be a blank slate. A child with only one parent, essentially."

"It's a surprise oozes haven't taken over the world." Claude muses. He's only half-joking. Considering how indestructible they are to normal people, oozes could easily multiply at an exponential rate and ravage the world if they felt like it.

"It's a good thing we have no reproductive drive then, isn't it?" Mercedes chuckles. "We only tend to reproduce by accident, when we split a part of ourselves off to avoid danger and those halves are forever separated, or when we have too much mass and have to shed some to keep control."

"What do you mean by that? Too much mass?" Claude asks.

"Well, I have a certain amount of mass right now." Mercedes says. "If I spread all of my mass evenly…" Her form changes, and soon Claude is left looking at a perfect sphere of peach-colored slime that would probably be just a bit smaller than he is if he was sitting down. Mercedes holds that form for a few seconds, then shifts back. "I have that much. I've had that much for a long time, and I've become accustomed to controlling it. Every little bit more mass is that much more of myself I have to put effort into controlling. I can go quite big if I need to, but it would have to be a simple form, and preferably not for too long."

"So it's a mental limit more than a physical limit?"

"Exactly." Mercedes nods. "If I spent time getting used to progressively more mass, I could probably get quite big on a permanent basis, but I have no reason to want that, so I don't. When I have too much mass, I shed it. I shed it in mindless clumps, like dead hair or slabs of meat… but I could shed it in the form of a new, sentient ooze if I felt like it."

"But again, no reproductive drive, so you don't feel the need to."

"Exactly." Mercedes nods.

That's sort of fascinating and mildly horrifying to Claude. The only thing stopping oozes from being a menace is basically their indifference to making more of themselves and not because anything is actually keeping them in check.

Also, Mercedes' whole existence is sort of horrifying in a general sense. She's quite possibly the living embodiment of a curse meant to end her father's lineage, not to mention all the standard issues that come with being an immortal being in a world of mortals, being a very different species from your parents and peers, and a bunch of ooze-specific things like having to construct your own body and vocal chords from scratch with no one able to teach you.

"Being an ooze sounds worse than it is though." Mercedes says. "Oh sure, it wasn't fun for the first decade and a bit, but once I got the basics down it really wasn't so bad. I don't have to worry about sleep, I can eat almost anything, I'm hard to hurt. The biggest problem has always been my social life. Most other kids were understandably scared of the half-formed sentient blob of slime, and even when I copied the body of a servant girl when I was a Bartels that didn't go over much better because some of the kids thought I was some sort of body-snatcher. Not to mention Baron Bartels was quite frustrated at how impossible it was going to be to marry me off."

"What was your selling point?" Claude asks, then immediately realizes how rude that sounds. "Uh-"

Mercedes waves him off, not offended. She almost never is, it seems. "I think he was hoping he could market my magical skills and my education. He gave me a very decent education you see. There was also the benefit that I was immortal. I could become a permanent fixture in whatever house I married into. So while I might not be able to have children, I would forever be able to help teach and protect the members of that house."

"A glorified bodyguard-teacher." Claude summarizes.

"More or less." Mercedes nods. "Of course, I didn't become of age before he could properly start shopping me around, so those plans never manifested."

"And your current step-father doesn't care to?"

"Oh he does, but he lets me have a say." Mercedes chuckles. "My step-father is kind, but he has very… specific ideas about what is supposed to happen in a young woman's life. If all goes well, they should find a loving husband in his mind, and so he is determined to have me find one, but he isn't so callous as to think he knows better than I do what I might want."

"And you're opposed?"

"Not necessarily." Mercedes hums. "If there were truly someone wonderful I wouldn't mind. But there are many complications, not least because of what I am, so I think my step-father grossly overestimates the chance of me finding a feasible match. That person would need to be fine with my inability to bear children, not to mention the fact that I will outlive them by a vast, vast margin and so I can't truly grow old with them, and that's on top of simply finding someone I get along with well enough."

"Sounds like a hassle."

"I'd imagine. I wouldn't know, I haven't actually been trying." Mercedes says cheekily. "Anyhow, does that answer your questions?"

He never gave her a stated question, but… "Yeah, more than enough."

"In that case, it's time to answer my question." Mercedes says, and she leans forward and props her head up on one hand. "What's in the notebook?"

The fact that he could lie to her face flits through Claude's mind again, and he's sorely tempted to take that route, but he can imagine Hilda's flat, disapproving stare at his 'paranoia' and resigns himself to telling the truth… or part of the truth, at least. "I'm compiling comprehensive notes on every species I can. Things I've met, things I haven't, things that exist, things that are extinct. I want to know everything about them I can, mostly because current sources are startlingly bare-bones, and even specific sources about one species in particular tend to only focus on their culture rather than touch on psychology or biology."

There, he was honest. There's more to his notebook than that, but species notes are a part of it, and he wasn't lying about most sources being weirdly simple or hyper-specific. Honestly, it's odd how avoidant Fodlandi sources are to talking about biology or psychology in any capacity that isn't "revere the goddess, bla bla bla religion". Like, you think someone would have made an in-depth text on this stuff, but no, when they discuss biology and psychology it's all very general like "the fight or flight reaction exists", or "elves have slightly better hearing and pointy ears" and, like, that's great, but why? Details! He wants details!

"Oh, how fascinating!" Mercedes exclaims with a clap of her hands, though her voice carries a hint of strain. "I imagine such a thing could be useful in medical fields!"

"Uh, sure." That's not at all what Claude intends to use it for, but technically Mercedes is correct. His notes could be used for that sort of thing.

"You might want to… well…" Mercedes hesitates, considering something. "You might want to keep that quiet. I know you already do, but it bears mentioning."

That's an ominous warning. Even more so because it comes from someone like Mercedes. "What do you mean?"

"The church, or at least it's officials, haven't always been the most open to… sciences." Mercedes says diplomatically. "I've seen more than one pastor decry the expertise of a doctor because their healing is from the goddess."

That's very good to know, and it explains a lot actually. Any actually informative texts on different species have probably been confiscated or censored by the church. No wonder all the information he finds is horrifically bare-bones.

Of course, he doesn't know that for certain, but if true it would explain a lot.

"Anyhow." Mercedes says brightly. "I'm sure you can do great things with that notebook of yours! Make good use of it, alright?"

"That's the plan." Claude says honestly.

"Good." Mercedes nods. "Oh, you might want to say hi to Hilda."

"Hilda?" Claude's eyes snap back towards the road, spying the covered wagon with the Demon sitting at the front and Leonie next to him. "You should have said something earlier Mercedes!" Claude says, and he leaps off the gate.

Mercedes' amused laughter follows him all the way down the path, though when he glances back the woman is no longer on top of the gate, nor is she following him to greet the Deer.

(He's relieved at that. As much as he might respect, and even like, Mercedes, he seems to need saving from her a lot when she's around.)

Putting on his most nonchalant smile, Claude saunters down the path towards the cart, hands behind his head, the very picture of someone calm and innoce-

"Claude Von Reigan, what the fuck did you do?" Hilda's head pokes out of the wagon while she shouts. Her pink eyes glare at him from well down the path.

"Hello to you too Hilda!" Claude calls back. "What makes you think I've done something?"

"You're always doing something!"

Well, she's not wrong. "Not true!"

"So if I ask Mercedes she'll say you were an angel?"

"Of course not." Claude snarks. "I'm a half-elf. She knows that."

"You-"

"Can you stop shouting in my ear now?" Leonie snaps at Hilda.

The old blood grumbles, and her head disappears back into the wagon. She doesn't stay gone for long though. A moment later she's hopped out the back and comes marching up the road towards Claude.

Claude doesn't bother hiding his usual smirk. "Just couldn't wait a minute longer to see me, could you Hilda?"

Hilda scowls, grabs him by the shirt, and starts hauling him towards the monastery.

Claude just laughs and waves to Byleth and Leonie. Leonie looks confused while Byleth calmly raises a hand and waves back.

"So, any particular reason we're storming back to the monastery with me over your shoulder?" Claude asks conversationally.

"Because if I have to spend another minute watching Ignatz and Marianne glancing shyly at each other I'm going to scream." Hilda grumbles. "I want out of there."

"You could try being happy for them, Hilda." Claude teases. "It's young love."

"I'll be happy when they finally make out in a closet or something, no charm magic involved." Hilda gripes. "Not a moment sooner."

"Let's not hope for miracles now." Claude says with a grin.

"It really would be a miracle, wouldn't it?" Hilda groans. "You have no idea how bored I was Claude. And everyone looked at me like I was in charge and it was terrible! I had to work!"

"How awful."

"I know!"

"Did the mission go well?"

"Well enough. Iggy got chopped and Marianne hovered around him for almost a full hour after the battle, but aside from that everything went smoothly. How much trouble did you actually get up to?"

Claude defaults to honesty this time. Hilda would learn the truth anyways from Mercedes. "I investigated that tunnel under the sauna."

"You went without me?" Hilda asks, sounding annoyed.

"I took Mercedes. She kept me safe."

"At least you're smart enough for that." Hilda sighs. Claude decides not to tell her that Mercedes only came along because she stumbled across him at the right moment. "What did you find?"

"Abyss."

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

"You're taking me to see it."

"Of course, of course."

"Anything else? You know I'm asking Mercie what you did anyways."

"I swear that's all." Claude says, fervently hoping that is everything because he doesn't actually remember if he did something else. "Everything I recall, anyways."

"Suuure." Hilda snorts.

It's nice to have Hilda back.

###

"I was expecting something else, honestly." Hilda says as Claude fiddles with the gate. He's never actually seen it open from the front, though he knows the latch is here somewhere. He's feeling over the top of the gate, trying to get it open. "A random fence in the town, huh?"

"What's less conspicuous than a fence?" Claude grins. "I'll be honest, I always expected the entrance to Abyss to be in some basement if Abyss existed at all. It would have fooled me if I looked here too."

Claude eventually finds the latch and opens the entrance to Abyss. He and Hilda slip inside, and Claude closes the gate behind them.

Both of them are wearing casual, inconspicuous clothes. Claude has a few raggedy old things he can throw on, whereas Hilda (lacking anything so unflattering) has instead opted for the most muted shirt and skirt in her closet.

Claude got them both cloaks, though he somewhat doubts Hilda's bright pink hair and purple skin is going to be all that well-hidden by it if anyone bothers with more than a cursory glance at her. Hopefully in that case, the fact that she's an old blood will deter anyone looking for an easy mark.

He nods to the guard just a bit down the tunnel as if he comes here all the time. The guard asks what they're doing, Claude says "shopping" and the guard shrugs and lets them pass.

Claude doesn't really know what he's looking for down here. The Abyss is an unknown factor, and that's both exciting and scary. Claude feels more out of his element here than he has anywhere else, but he knows there's potential down here. There's always something valuable to be found in an underground (metaphorically) society. They tend to find or know things shunned by polite society.

Hilda is here because she wanted to see Abyss, but also because Claude could really use the protection. Sure he could probably sneak around and be just fine, but he'd rather have someone who could lift a house by his side if he has the choice.

Also she'd yell at him if he left her behind again.

The problem is gathering information while looking relatively inconspicuous. Claude could try to eavesdrop, but that's only so useful. You usually just hear small talk anyways. Exploring will be more useful, and all the more safe with Hilda next to him.

(Claude is fully expecting Yuri and his goons to show up at some point. If the man is half as good as Claude expects him to be, Yuri already knows they're here, so they need to explore quickly before Yuri comes and ruins their fun.)

For the moment, Claude sticks to the main street. His eyes glaze past the various stalls with the usual fare (food, drugs, and other sometimes illegal but not very interesting knick-knacks) in search of anything more interesting than normal black-market items. Claude has plenty of those already.

"I was expecting a market in the Abyss to be more… unusual." Hilda mutters. "This looks weirdly normal. Aside from the drugs anyways."

"A black market is just a market selling things in an illegal fashion." Claude shrugs. "That could be something like blue dye if it was illegal for some reason. Besides, I'm fairly sure this doubles as a normal market. People live down here after all. They need all the usual essentials."

"Hmm…" Hilda hums. "Hey Claude."

"Yeah?"

"There are a lot of non-humans down here."

"That there is." Claude mutters. "Anyone scorned by the world above I guess. Wouldn't surprise me to find a bunch of feeders, half-breeds, or any scorned species down here. Vampires, half-orcs, dark elves, demons, undead…"

"Vampires aren't undead?" Hilda asks. "You said them separately."

"Vampires aren't undead." Claude confirms. "They can be healed by white magic like any other biological species. They're immortal as long as they feed regularly, which throws a bunch of people off, and there exists a ritual to turn a normal person into a vampire, which is a very undead-esque thing, but they're not actually undead."

"Huh. Who knew Sylvain was immortal." Hilda muses.

"What?

"He's a vamp."

"Oh." Claude blinks. "That's news to me."

"Really? I thought you'd have picked up on it." Hilda huffs. "Ingrid and Felix do a pretty bad job of hiding their bites. You can see them right there on their neck when they train because they always unbutton their collars."

Maybe if those two didn't train at ungodly hours of the morning (and he wasn't usually sleeping after a long night of snooping) Claude would have known that. Ah well. At least Hilda knew, and now he knows. "Does he feed on his dates?"

"I haven't heard any rumors about bite marks, so I assume not." Hilda says. "Though now that I think of it, Sylvain being a vamp brings up a whole lot of questions. Doesn't that mean all Gautiers are immortal? Why do they go through dukes at the same rate as any other dukedom then?"

That is a good question, and one Claude doesn't have the knowledge to answer. "I don't know. I'd have to investigate Kingdom politics some more, and look into the Gautiers specifically."

Sylvain being a vampire does explain that conversation he overheard between him and Ingrid about her suitor a while ago. The Gautiers are also quite important in Faerghus, so Claude has to wonder what effect their vampirism has on politics, policy, and governance.

But those are thoughts for another time.

It takes almost ten minutes before Claude locates anything of interest, and when he does find something, it's not at all what he expects.

The statue is just off the beaten path, but is clearly a well-visited location in its own right. The statue is also probably the cleanest thing Claude has seen in the Abyss so far. It looks like a hooded, winged humanoid of some sort, sitting on a throne. The dark stone of its body has been recently washed clean, and the statue has clear signs of damage and erosion which show it's likely considerable age, and a slew of prayer candles surround the base of the thing along with a few people kneeling

"Do you know which god this is?" Hilda asks in a hushed whisper.

Claude shakes his head. "It's not Almyran. Not as far as I can tell anyways."

"I don't really know any gods but the Goddess." Hilda murmurs.

"I know a few outside Almyra and Fodlan, but they're mostly historical." Claude says. "And I don't really know if they were gods, or just really powerful creatures."

"Is there a difference?" Hilda asks. "Isn't that what gods are?"

"I don't know." Claude admits. "They might be something different, they might not."

Claude's eyes roam the statue, trying to pick out defining features. The wings are an obvious one, but even those can have nuance. The wings are long and somewhat thin rather than short and wide, so the statue can't be representing a demon. Demons have wide, bat-like wings. It might be an archangel. Fairies tend to have butterfly-like wings, so that's out of the question too. Archangels have bird wings coming out their back (unlike normal angels that have no wings at all), so that might fit. The feathers Claude would expect to be on the wings could have gotten worn away with time.

At least, as far as Claude knows archangels had bird wings. They're long since extinct. Just another powerful creature that died out as the ages went on, killed by their low birth rate and other beings that feared their immense power. Archangels, archdevils, archdemons, arcanomoths, giants, dragons… the march of time was not kind to the old, world-shaping powers. Anything powerful enough to affect the whole continent was systematically removed by fearful kingdoms and alliances, even if they were non-hostile.

The old bloods played a large part in that. They're the ones that killed the giants, after all, and Claude knows they had a hand in exterminating at least a few other species of great power. Claude also remembers one historical text that cynically said that the only reason old bloods are still around is because they realized they'd be next with all the other majorly powerful species gone and so gradually stepped down, letting humans take over Fodlan, and contenting themselves as being respected protectors of their frailer countrymen in exchange for not having a target on their backs.

Claude thinks that's absurd, because there are plenty of things far more dangerous than old bloods still around (succubi come to mind), but maybe old bloods were simply the most high profile beings of power still around.

Anyhow, Claude doesn't know for sure what this statue is depicting, but he's going to guess it's an archangel until he has evidence to the contrary.

"I guess the church doesn't know it's down here, or else I can't imagine they'd allow it." Hilda muses.

"You'd be wrong about that pal." A voice similar to Claude says. "The church knows full well about the Abyss, and at least some of the stuff in it."

Claude glances to the side to see Balthus standing cross-armed behind them, with a cloaked figure he's going to assume is Hapi next to him. Claude opens his mouth to say something, but Hilda beats him to it.

"Baltie?"

The big man blinks in shock as Hilda flicks off her hood. "Hilda?"

"Why does everyone know each other?" Claude complains under his breath. Constance knows Mercedes, Balthus knows Hilda. Who's next? Hapi and Lysithea? Yuri and Bernadetta?

"What are you doing down here Baltie?" Hilda asks, poking the man in the arm.

"I could ask the same thing of you." Balthus says. "And why are you with the sneaky guy?"

Sneaky guy? Balthus calls him "the sneaky guy"? Claude isn't sure if he's amused or offended.

"Me and Claude are just looking around. I insisted he show me Abyss." Hilda says. "So why are you here?"

"I live here." Balthus admits, and scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "I'm, uh, hiding."

"From what?" Hilda asks. Balthus coughs and looks away, and Hilda narrows her eyes. "Balthus."

"Nothin' much. Just a few persistent, uh, collectors."

"What sort of collectors?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Baltie…"

"Debt collectors." The cloaked figure (definitely Hapi, judging by her tingle-inducing voice) provides in a tone of dry amusement. "He's been running from them for years."

"Hapi!" Balthus groans. "Okay, fine, so I've incurred a few-"

"Many." Hapi whispers.

"-debts." Balthus says, raising his voice to speak over Hapi. "But I've got them under control."

Hapi snorts, and Balthus scowls at her.

"Really Baltie? Debts?" Hilda sighs. "Still betting, aren't you?"

"No!" Balthus protests. Hapi elbows him, and he sighs. "Okay, maybe, but only on things I know I should win!"

Hilda rolls her eyes, and Claude stifles a grin. He wonders what Balthus usually bets on. Clearly he's a terrible judge of something if he keeps losing often enough to be in serious debt.

Claude also decides that if they're here, he might as well ask a question. "Hey Balthus, what's up with the statue? Is it Srengian?"

"Nah, it's Fodlandi." Balthus says. "Some old, forgotten thing from before the Goddess. At least that's what Constance claims."

"Not quite forgotten." Hapi corrects in her usual whisper. "It's still here, after all. People still worship it."

Balthus nods in acknowledgement. "Yeah, true. Still, this god, and the statue, are old as dirt."

"Before the goddess?" Hilda frowns. "How is that possible? Didn't the Goddess create all known species?"

Claue doesn't know if this is a good time or a bad time to bring up the theory of evolution. He errs on the side of saying nothing.

"Hey, I don't know." Balthus shrugs. "That's not my thing. You'd have to ask Constance. I'm just saying what she said."

"Yuri wants to know what you're after, by the way." Hapi cuts in. "I have permission to force the truth out of you if I need to, but that's no fun, so how about you just tell me yeah?"

"I already said, we're just looking around." Hilda huffs.

"Sure you are." Balthus says, and crosses his arms. "And I'm just living here because I like the view."

Hilda narrows her eyes. "Are you saying you don't trust me, Baltie?"

"Oh I trust you, but not him." Balthus says, nodding towards Claude.

Claude just shrugs. That's fair. He wouldn't trust himself either. "Hilda isn't lying. We are just looking around at the moment. I make it my business to know as much as I can, so I couldn't not poke around a new place that exists directly underneath the academy."

Balthus glances at Hapi, and the girl shrugs. "Eh, good enough for me." She addresses Claude again. "But the more you tell us, the more we can help, you know?"

Claude snorts. "Please, you say that like you're remotely trustworthy. I'm not baring my heart to strangers who like to ambush people in alleyways."

"Says the random guy who dropped into our home unannounced." Balthus scoffs. "What were we supposed to think? You didn't come in a usual way so the guards didn't know you were here. You and slimey were strangers that dropped in out of nowhere. Gotta protect our home."

"Just because you're protecting your home doesn't make you trustworthy." Claude thinks. "A cultist isn't trustworthy because they're protecting their church."

"Just consider it, Sneaky." Hapi says. "Come on B, we're done here."

"Yeah, uh, you go on ahead." Balthus says, waving her off, his eyes on Hilda. "I've got some catchin' up to do I think."

Claude also looks to Hilda, silently asking if she wants Balthus bothering them, and Hilda waves off his concern. She doesn't mind. In fact, she firmly grabs Balthus' arm and starts asking questions, and Balthus instantly looks like he regrets staying as Hilda focuses on asking him about his debts.

(Balthus subtly tries to squirm away, but Hilda's grip is vice-like. Claude grins and winks at the man when he casts Claude a desperate look for help. He's more than happy to leave Balthus at Hilda's mercy.)

They don't really get anything else done after that. Hilda is busy chewing Balthus out and Claude doesn't want to stray too far from them. So he instead spends his time chatting with one of the locals, a gremory as it turns out, until Hilda is done and it's time to leave.

Perhaps it wasn't the most fruitful trip, but then again, half the reason Claude came to Abyss was because Hilda insisted rather than because he had an actual plan.

(He decides not to dwell on the fact that he made an unplanned and potentially dangerous decision to come to Abyss on a whim purely because Hilda wanted to see it. He doesn't need to feed his paranoia any more than he already does.)

On the way back up to the surface though, Hilda drops a nugget for him. "Hey Claude."

"Yeah?"

"Baltie mentioned something interesting when we were talking that you might find fun."

"What? Did he mention why he's so bad at gambling?"

"No. That's just because he's not as smart as he thinks he is." Hilda says with a smirk. "He mentioned something called 'the Shadow Library'."

Oh ho ho, that is interesting. "Did he now?"

"Yep. I think he let it slip by accident, and I didn't push him on it, but I figured you'd want to know." Hilda says haughtily. "You're welcome."

Claude rolls his eyes fondly, though his mind is racing. The Shadow Library is definitely something he's going to look into. You don't get a name like that without having something interesting to read. "Thank you Hilda."


The Shadow Library… I'm surprised I don't see it as a major plot point in other fics, because it sure as hell is going to be important here (especially considering worldbuilding is king before we hit wartime and the plot finally takes precedence).

Can I take a moment to talk about the story? Oh wait, it's up to me, so yes I can. So if you don't care for that, skip these huge blocks of text.

I can't believe we're at chapter 19, and we haven't even gotten halfway through White Clouds. We're in in-game month five at the moment, Verdant Rain Moon. Month five, out of twelve. Why do I make all my stories so incredibly slow? Then again, it sort of needs to be slow if I want to give a thorough exploration of the various quirks everyone in the monastery possesses. We've done Marianne, Mercedes, and (sort of) Hilda and Claude so far, but I've still got, like, so many threads to follow up on. I never explained what was up with Linhardt, the Wolves need to be explained, Bernadetta's weirdness still hasn't been touched on, Lysithea needs to explored at some point, Sylvain just got revealed now and there's so much more to talk about with him, Ingrid has more I could talk about, Ignatz could probably use a bit of expanding upon considering he's a prominent secondary character, Raphael is a Deer I haven't touch upon at all and I really should, Lorenz should probably be dealt with, and then there's still Cyril, Rhea and Seteth and Flayn, Byleth and Jeralt, and all the others I haven't even mentioned yet or talked about once and never again… there's so many characters.

And I have to juggle character explorations with actual plot and worldbuilding things. There's so much I need to do here. Of course, a few of these characters are more important than others. Edelgard, Dimitri, Rhea, Byleth, and Lysithea are actually going to be plot relevant, but I can't dig into them too early or it'll mess with the suspense or reveal plot points waaay earlier than I intend them to be known. Lysithea and Edelgard are particularly bad offenders of this.

I'm curious though. What characters are you all interested in? Or heck, who are your favourites? I don't think I'll be able to do much with that info, it's not easy to change when characters are going to appear, but it would be nice to know. Personally I'm looking forward to Bernie but I have no idea when I'll get to her, and I'm having an unreasonable amount of fun with Marianne because succubi are just that enjoyable to work with (there's a reason I've used them… what… three to seven times across different stories, depending on how you count it?).

TLDR: story going to be long, many characters, argh.