Catherine and I stand across from each other at the training grounds. I am wearing some protection around my weaker spots, with my arms raised and my legs planted on the ground. She is just in her under armor and standing relaxed in front of me.

"Ready?" the blonde challenges.

"Ready," I confirm, brow furrowed.

I hear her neck's muscles pop as she bends it left and right. "Then come at me!"

Contrary to the enthusiasm with which Catherine talks to me, I decide to keep a cautious approach. Not only is she taller, faster and more muscular than me, she's got a Crest to back her up. I don't know how its effects translate outside of gameplay, but I bet it makes her much more dangerous than a normal human being.

As such, I proceed slowly, always with my fists raised, moving a bit to the left and right when need be. But when I'm just outside of her reach, I instantly close the gap and aim a left hook at her abdomen.

Catherine, being the experienced warrior that she is, of course predicts it and parries it. But while she's busy with that, I go for my real target and aim my free elbow at her face.

"Nice try," she says as she surprises me by intercepting and grabbing the elbow with her free hand. "My turn."

Right after saying that, she grabs my left leg as well and flips me over. I land ungracefully on my butt, hissing in pain as I do so.

"Your feints are becoming predictable," Catherine says with a click of her tongue. "And the worst thing to be in a fight is predictable."

"Can you blame me?" I retort. "Even if you didn't have a Crest, I can't take someone as bulky as you head-on."

"Oho?" she questions. "How do you know I have a Crest?"

I arch an eyebrow. "Wasn't that sword you had the other day Thunderbrand?"

"Oh yeah," she replies. "Sorry, I didn't realize you knew them. Good eye."

Man, it's a relief how the background I gave her can easily justify me knowing aspects of their culture.

"Anyway," she continues, "I getcha. If anything, you being practical is a welcome change from recruits who stick to fighting fair because it's 'honorable'. But you need to be more inventive than this. A trick can work only once before someone sees it coming."

"So what exactly should I do?"

"Try to go for something your adversary would not see coming. Or if they can see it, make it so they can't stop it."

Hmmm.

"Now," she offers me a hand, "get up. And when you're ready, we'll have another go."

I grab that hand and let her lift me up. After that, I take a couple of moments to catch my breath before going back into a fighting stance. Now, let's see, what would be something Catherine wouldn't see coming? Apparently she's figured out I try to go for feints, so that's out of the question.

...or is it? Hmmm.

I repeat the little preamble dance of cautiously approaching Catherine until I'm just out of her reach. But this time, I raise both of my hands and aim them at Catherine's ears. She predictably manages to parry both, grabbing my arms for good measure. But with her arms busy upward, I'm able to land a knee on her gut.

It almost doesn't feel real when I see the blonde taking a few steps back as she gasps for air. Yes, I managed to land a hit!

Despite trying to regain her breath, Catherine still chuckles at me. "Good, good. You're learning." She then smirks at me, instantly giving me a bad feeling. "Guess I can go harder on you now."

Uh-oh.

"How are you feeling?" Rebecca asks me when we're finished with our shift and sit down to eat. "You seemed worse for wear today."

"I'm fine," I reassure her, stretching my arms as I do so. "Just some rough training with Catherine is all."

"Is that right?" she asks, quirking an eyebrow. "You know, at this rate you're gonna risk a black eye. And you can be sure Geoffrey will chew you out if you show up in conditions like that."

Mister Fatso can chew a steel bar for all I care.

"We haven't gotten to the part where she hits back yet," I reassure her. "For now it's just been me attacking and her parrying or deflecting or whatever else. No risk of showing up with a black eye."

"For now," she parrots.

"...for now," I confirm

Rebecca lets out an amused snort at that answer. "Many usually call it quits after their first bout with the dreaded Thunder Catherine. And yet you didn't. Are you sure you're not a masochist?"

"Trust me," I retort, "her teaching method is not so different from my old master's. Any difference between her and him is mostly due to the age disparity and her Crest of Charon."

"Oh?" she says, with a surprised tone. "She told you about her Crest?"

"Yeah, I noticed the Hero Relic she carries around," I tell her. "I think you can guess the rest."

"Ah," she replies as a small, barely-perceptible frown sets on her face. "I see. I didn't realize the Heroes' Relics were known in Dagda."

Oh, sh-!

"They are," I lie, trying to keep a steady tone. I hope Shamir can back me up on this if need be.

"Oh, okay," she lightly responds. "Anyway, while we are on the subject, I'm curious. You said you had already learned some martial arts in the past. What made you decide to learn them in the first place? It's not a habit everyone picks."

Thank you for the topic change.

"No particular reason, really. I wanted to be able to defend myself and I thought that was the way to go."

"Is that so?" she asks amusedly. "Why did you want to learn self-defense? Trying to impress someone?"

"No, just thought it would be a useful skill. So that in the - admittedly unlikely - case someone would try to attack me I could defend myself."

Rebecca smirks at that. A smirk that stirs frustration in me as I know just what she's thinking.

"This is the part where you tell me I'm a paranoid person, isn't it?"

"Oh, I would never say that," she responds. "After all,"

Instead of finishing that phrase, she drops her smirk and extends her right arm on the table. She then pulls up the sleeve just enough to reveal her surprisingly muscular forearm. As well as the sheath with a dagger strapped on it.

Wait, what?

"It would be rather hypocritical of me to call you that," she says before pulling back down the sleeve and retracting her arm.

Uhm, okay. She just revealed to me she walks around armed. No biggie. No biggie at all.

"Just…" I tentatively say. "Just be careful with that thing. It's dangerous to use."

"Do not worry," she says. "I have experience with these kinds of tools. I used them plenty of times before."

I blink in surprise. "Really?" What did she do in Varholm for a living? Skin dead animals? Did she run a butchery shop? It would certainly match the reasoning for why I was sent here.

"Yeah," she replies, far more cheerfully than I'd like given the circumstances. "Mostly for hunting reasons. Lots of uses for them in those cases."

She was a huntress? "What took you to Garreg Mach?"

"That's another story for another time," she says dismissively. "Let's focus on something else for now, alright?"

Fair enough.

"Excuse me, have you seen Dame Catherine?" I ask the first Knight I come across when I don't find the swordswoman at the training grounds.

"She received orders to head for the Empire shortly ago," he responds. "There seems to be some unrest with a group of bandits on its western shores."

Ah...guess I should have expected this to happen sooner or later.

"If you hurry, though, you might still catch her," he continues as he points to some other corner of the place. "She went that way with Dame Shamir and hasn't come back yet."

I nod to him and say my thanks before heading in the direction he pointed at. The exact spot I arrive at is a dead end, but there is a door a little further on the right. However, my attention is drawn to a sound of...smooching coming from behind a column toward the left.

Cautiously, I get closer to that column and glance behind it. What I am met by is the sight of Catherine and Shamir leaning against each other. The former has one arm wrapped behind the latter's head and the other hand pressing against her back. The archer, on the other hand, has one arm wrapped under the taller woman's armpits and the other hand...slightly below her waist. Oh, and their lips are connected.

Oookay...didn't see that one coming.

I'm not sure what happens right after the realization hits me. Although I guess I must have spaced out since the next thing I know Catherine is shouting at me, "Hey!"

"S-sorry," I say as I blink my eyes. And when I've done that, the sight I'm met by is the two lady Knights glowering at me.

"Uhm," I try to say as a drop of sweat goes down my neck. "So, you two are a thing?"

Ten out of ten, me.

"Yes," Catherine hisses at me. Without any hint of hesitation in her voice, just a daring tone. Okay, I thought these two became a couple only during the game, but I guess not.

"And we were trying to have a moment, you know, without someone interrupting us!"

Right, right, focus on the moment.

"Sorry," I tell her nervously. "I was just looking for you." I start fidgeting with my hands. "Since, well, you weren't at our usual spot and I was told you were about to go on a mission and I wanted to say goodbye and-"

Her glare doesn't waver.

"And I'll uhm," I start turning away, "I'll just be going now."

"Hold it," Shamir intervenes, causing me to turn to her instead. Her brow is not as furrowed as before but...well, I'd say she still doesn't look happy, but that's normal for her.

"Yes?" I ask her. All while at the corner of my vision I see Catherine relax her own face. Please tell me this isn't something that ends with four knuckles printed on my face.

"As you said, Catherine is leaving on a mission," the actual Dagdan starts as she crosses her arms. "But I'm not. So I'll take over for her today."

Uhm, okay. I have no idea whether her methods are better than Catherine's or not. Although I suspect she'll be extra motivated to kick my butt now.

"Come on, get up," an annoyed Shamir says right after she's kicked my legs from under me for the upteenth time.

"Yeah, yeah, just give me a second."

All I've learned so far it's that rather than relying on her own strength like Catherine, Shamir favours manipulating her opponent's weight against them.

"If you were fighting for real, a second is all your enemy would need to finish you off."

And that she's less patient with me.

"If we were fighting for real, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't even let me get this close to you."

"I said 'you', not 'we'."

Wisecracking, are we?

I get back on my feet and fall into the stance yet again. Although I think I need to try a different approach this time, since so far just attacking has borne little fruit. Maybe a distraction? But of what kind?

"So...you and Catherine. How did that happen?"

Shamir has no reaction to that. "If you were going to try that, you should have used it when it was still fresh."

Well, crud. Can I salvage it, at least?

"Can I get an answer anyway?" I insist. "I'm genuinely curious. You two are like night and day."

Silence is the answer I'm given.

"Come on, I'm just curious. I promise not to tease or anything. Haven't we known each other long enough to not give the cold shoulder?"

Again, only silence.

"Fine," I sigh.

I approach her with careful steps, making sure to keep an eye on her joints in case she tries anything. Surprisingly, she keeps perfectly still all throughout. It's probably too daring of a move, but I try to attack with a punch all the same.

I'm not entirely sure what happens after. I only manage to get the key passages. One, she reacts with more speed than my previous attempts and grabs my arm. Two, one of her legs is wrapped around my neck and the other presses on my ribcage. Three, her weight pushes me on the floor. Four, I'm stuck on the ground with one arm and my torso tied down by Shamir with her own limbs.

"What," I try to wheeze out as best as I can while her leg presses on my throat. "What did you do that for?"

"Making a point," she replies matter of factly. Okay, so that kind of insistent chit chat pisses her off. Got i-

"And also," she continues, her voice lowering in volume, "because this way I can speak at a volume others won't hear."

Uh?

"We have known each other for some time now, that is true. But it doesn't mean I'm still convinced you can be trusted."

What? "What are you saying?"

"Catherine and Alois may have taken everything you said at face value. But I have not. I know there is more to your story than what you've told us."

Oh crap, should have known she'd be smart enough to figure that one out.

I struggle to look up to her from my position. "I...don't know what you mea-"

The pressure on my throat tightens, effectively cutting me off.

"Fódlan is not the only land that has never heard of Italy," Shamir then states. "Dagda hasn't either. And I'm sure Almyra could say the same. Everything would point to your homeland not existing. And yet you were telling the truth. I saw that in your eyes. As well as the fact you knew more than you were letting on."

…

She lets go of me and starts getting back up. "I will not ask what it is. But save the talks like we're friends. We both know that's not true. Understood?"

"...understood," I tell her before I also get up. And the rest of our training exercise goes on much more quietly than before.

When I'm done with Shamir, I head back to the dining hall, head lowered as her words keep ringing in my ears. Knowing that she's onto me is a worrying thought. Knowing that because I'm keeping secrets she wants to stay distant just hurts.

Unfortunately, I have to. The things I know are too dangerous. What I know of the past would put me in Rhea's crosshair. What I know of the future could shift the direction of events from a guaranteed outcome of a better Fódlan to one more uncertain. And if keeping quiet means I have to keep others at a distance, so be it. No matter how I feel about it.

"Hey there, Eugenio!" My head jumps up at the sound of Alois' voice. "How are you-?"

His question never ends. When our gazes meet, Alois' smile drops and his eyebrows furrow. What's up with him all of a sudden?

"Are you alright?" he asks, confusing me further.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I tell him, trying to sound reassuring. "Why do you ask?"

"You," he hesitatingly says, "you look upset. Has something happened?"

I look upset? I'm not, right?

"Just a little discussion with Shamir just now," I still tell him. "Nothing to worry about."

Despite my words, his frown remains and he presses his lips together. I almost shudder when he places a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm afraid I must insist," he says, calmly but firmly. "What did you talk about?"

I let down a gulp. "I…" What should I even say? Admit I haven't told him the whole truth and Shamir figured it out? No, that's not an option. But silence isn't either. So what do I do?

...I suppose I tell him the truth. At least, the one I can say.

"We talked about my situation a bit."

Alois gives a small understanding nod. "And that made you miss your home, didn't it?"

Well, no it- I mean that's also it, but I didn't- I was-

I lower my head again. "I didn't want to come here," I whisper. "I had goals I was trying to accomplish, dreams I was trying to fulfill, friends and family that I was trying to make proud. And now it's," a shudder escapes me, "it's all out of reach. With no discernible way to have it back."

Alois doesn't say anything to that. I don't get to see whatever his reaction is, as my gaze focuses on the space between our boots. It feels like minutes pass before Alois finally says something again, with a softer tone.

"Could you raise your head? I want you to look me in the eyes."

I reluctantly do so. What I'm met by is not the usual visage of a goofball that tries to keep spirits up, but a man trying to muster a small, sedated smile as he looks at me with saddened eyes that still hold steadiness within them.

"I need you to listen to my words," he says. "And listen carefully."

A slow nod is how I answer.

"All that you've lost when you came here. You can't have it back." A pit forms in my stomach at those words. "That is a lesson I had to learn many years ago."

"Captain Jeralt, my old mentor, had been my guide all throughout my retinue as a squire. The day I finally took my vows as a Knight, I was ecstatic to finally have a chance to fight by his side as an equal. Unfortunately, not long after that he was struck by a series of personal tragedies and he had to leave the Knights of Seiros behind."

"At the time, I was devastated. I had worked so hard to make my mentor proud of me only to never get the chance to truly show him how far I'd come. I felt like I'd lost my purpose. However, life doesn't stop just because we were shown a bad hand. And I still had my duties as a Knight."

"So I pressed on," he continues, more resolutely now. "I kept taking one step after another every day after the other. And in doing so, I remembered why I chose to wear this." He places a hand on his chestplate. "To help people."

I refrain from commenting on how little helping the Knights of Seiros actually do to Fódlan. Now is not the time.

"And even then, it wasn't always easy." His eyes shift their focus from me to somewhere in the distance. "In two decades of service, I befriended many fellow Knight that at one point or another I ended up outliving. Some were veterans with far more experience than me, others novices that only managed to serve for a very brief amount of time."

"But despite all of that," he returns his focus to me, "I went on by focusing not on what I had lost, but on what I still had. My Knight friends and later on my wife and daughter."

Alois let a moment pass before he speaks again. "You can't have back what you lost. You have to take it back. It is not easy. It is not quick. But the key to it is to always move forth. No matter what."

I can offer him no rebuttal. I know where he's coming from, even if it was from somewhere I never would have expected from him. But our situations are far more different than he realizes.

Still, there is some merit to his words.

"Do you understand?"

"I...think I do."

He nods, "Good."

Just as he says that, he briefly closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath. When he opens them again, he's back to his less serious self.

"Now, then." He lets go of my shoulder and points in the dining hall's direction. "Let's go! I'm sure you also can't wait to be around food again!"

I can play along for Alois' sake. But truth to be told, I don't feel particularly hungry.

It's funny. While Fódlan has its own set of months, the days of the week are the same as on Earth. Same names, same number, same everything. Wonder how that came to be.

But anyway, the week that starts on Monday the twenty-fourth of March - sorry, the Lone Moon - is interesting, to say the least. According to Rebecca, this is the week when students have their final tests before graduation day on Saturday. As such, most of them are visibly more agitated than usual. And they remain so throughout most of the week.

I, on my part, am only partially affected by this. Work at the dining hall remains the same as always, but I don't get to see much of Alois and Catherine, as apparently they help out during these exams. That leaves me to train with Shamir again, which is…it's training with Shamir.

By the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, though, things seem to return to normal. Except that the day after there are several fewer students. Something I have to bring up to Rebecca.

"Oh, that's normal," she reassures me, "With the school year over and the new year celebration behind the corner, some of them left this morning. It happens every year."

On the one hand, it's a relief to hear that everything is going normally. On the other, the end of the year means it will be 1180 very soon. Which means it won't be long before the student characters from the game arrive. That includes the Flame Emperor. And unlike Tomas-slash-Solon, I will have to interact with her. Small interactions just to ask what she wants to eat, but I know I'll be nervous by just being around her. And someone as observant and calculating as her will notice it.

Fuck.

And chapter. Shorter than usual, but I hope the character interractions here make up for that.

Thanks to Softandhappy for betareading. You can find us at the Fanfiction Treehouse discord server at: 9XG3U7a

See you all next time!