Day 29 of Great Tree Moon
Edelgard stepped slowly over the bodies of the fallen, comrades and enemies alike. The sky rumbled with distant thunder, the sun painting everything in its sullen yellow light from behind the clouds.Her boots and distant war cries were the only sounds ringing in her ears. Her leg still ached from the gash in her leg, far shallower than it felt at first. Her thick cape was nearly in ribbons now, smelling faintly of metallic smoke. She looked over the bloodied plains and found the fight she had been most invested in.
Santaniel had been run through, but he was still breathing, as shaky as it was. Dimitri was fumbling blindly for a weapon, a deep cut over both his eyes. He was bleeding heavily from both arms, and it looked like he had barely avoided several bone breaking strikes from Santaniel's kicks. She shuddered, she had been on the receiving end of her fair share.
"Dimitri." The blonde haired king whipped toward her with a dagger clenched in his fist. She doubted he would lay down and accept defeat. Edelgard strode forward and kicked him down, her boot on his chest. "A normal man would have simply given up by now." She glanced behind her towards Santaniel, he would have given up long ago…
"I admire your drive, Dimitri, but the Kingdom has lost. Accept your fate with dignity." She readied her axe as he struggled beneath her, crying out that he'd kill her. With one last breath out, she drew the axe across his throat, and silenced the King. "Goodbye, Dimitri. You would have been a benevolent king had we co-existed in another time. I will see you again in another life, for now…" She turned back to Santaniel and called people over to carry him back.
--
Day 5 of the Harpstring Moon
"Damn paperwork." Hephaestus leaned back in his chair until his back popped, then returned to his mountain of paperwork. Since when did he become Xavien's assistant? Though, Santaniel usually did it along with the weapon maintenance… Ugh, the kid needed to recover already.
"Hey hon." Hephaestus turned and smiled as Manuela returned to the church room they had been sharing, "Hey sweetheart. How's Sant doing?" The cleric sighed and draped herself over the mage, "He's going to make a good recovery, not total, but a good one. His right lung was clipped by the lance, so he may have mild asthma. Other than that? Nothing we can't repair with magic." Hephaestus smiled, placed a kiss on Manuela's lips, and retired for the night.
--
Day ??? of the Harpstring Moon
Santaniel slowly opened his eyes, everything was too damn bright. He was immediately struck by the aching. His chest and back felt like he had been snapped in half. He used his right arm and propped himself up, his left arm was bandaged up and down.
Looks like they were freshly changed at least. He looked down at his chest and winced at the action. He propped himself up fully, rubbing his face until he finally felt awake. He looked around for a sign of anyone, when he couldn't find one, he looked out the window. Moon was about a third of the way through it's journey, so it wasn't too late.
"Ugh, this sucks ass." His voice was slightly raspier, his breathing had a slight wheeze now. Maybe Dimitri nicked a lung, wouldn't be the first time that kind of thing happened. Santaniel swung his left leg over the bed, then his right, and stood… For about three seconds. He fell back down to a knee, "I was out for a while then. Been a bit since I walked… I've done this song and dance too many times."
He looked around for a moment, sighing when no one appeared to be around. He rolled his pant legs up and heated his right arm up, pressing the hot metal to his muscles. After about thirty or so minutes, he stood with a bit of a wobble, walking a bit shakily.
Tapping the mirror, he reached under the counter and pulled out a tube of his blood. He eyed the thick purple blob in the center and ground his teeth, just another reminder. He shook the bottle, and splashed it onto the mirror, stepping in and through to his home.
He felt the smooth wood under his soles and sighed in relief. He stretched to the sky, yawned, and promptly went into his room where he collapsed into his bed.
--
Day 6 of the Harpstring Moon
"What do you mean you lost a bedridden patient?!" Edelgard planted her face in her hands and groaned, "Are you sure you've checked everywhere upstairs? With his injuries, there's no way he could have left that level."
"I'm quite sure we've checked everywhere. Library, the extra rooms, the cardinal rooms, the war room- everywhere." Hephaestus was as worried as a parent who lost their five year old at a market. "Ok, so we need to check the higher levels most likely-" Three hard knocks sounded from outside the room.
"Hubert, can you get that?" Hubert nodded and moved silently to the door while Hephaestus mumbled to himself. He was a worried mess, a far cry from his usual calm self, it was unsettling to say the least. Once Hubert opened the door, Santaniel tapped Hephaestus on the shoulder, "Stop worrying dumbass, I just used the mirror."
"You…!" Hephaestus was beet red for a moment before he sighed and wrapped his arms around Santaniel's chest. Besides a noticeable grit in his voice, he seemed fine. "Arti patched the rest of my body up this morning, he must've thought you guys sent me home yesterday. I'm sorry for the heart attack I nearly gave your old ass." Hephaestus ruffled Santaniel's hair and looked over to Edelgard, "Everyone's up and back at full capacity again."
"Well, maybe everyone, but certainly not everything. I have some excess work to do before we head out again, ok? Also, Edelgard, I'm gonna need the bones of Maurice."
With a faint smile to her lips, she spoke, "Go ahead to the forge Santaniel. I'll have them delivered your way soon enough."
"Tell them I'll need three smiths, Arti, and some Mythril. Send Aymr or whatever you want to get a makeover, I have some plans to spring on Rhea. Some plans that'll cut those scales like paper."
--
"Arti, I need you to get started on making the molds. Remember my staff Sturmrufer? Yeah, use that as a model, mainly the longer handle. You! Start smelting that Umbral Steel, and you! Bring me Maurice's leg, whichever is most intact, and then two of his canine's. Also, get the Crest stone itself, or shard, whatever it is."
"Yes sir!" Santaniel rubbed his eyes, "Ok. So I have to make a sword, repair some armor, and then make-" Someone came bursting through the door with a large cart of equipment, all boney white, and smelling a hell of a lot like blood.
"Thanks for that little barge in, you can help get the Umbral Steel melted."
"B-but sir!"
"Did I ask for another interruption? Get to it kid, the others will help you out, just don't get touchy with equipment." Arti tapped his shoulder and held up the mold, looking good. "Great, now take my Holy Twins and make a tracing, then make the mold. After that, can you take care of the mundane maintenance? I'll get the relics." Arti simply got to work.
--
Day 8 of the Harpstring Moon
"Ugh, I smell like fucking grease." Santaniel tossed a damp rag to a basket in the corner as he finished hammering out the kinks in the top blade. "Finally." He picked it up from the table and plunged it into the cold water, and pulled it out.
After an hour or two of sleep, he pulled the equipment cart to the training grounds… Even up the stairs. He had a couple new gifts to hand out. "Hey Raph, come here for a second."
He pulled two green gauntlets from the cart, both smelling of acid. "Uh, what ya got there?" Santaniel opened the bottoms of them up, and Raphael slid his hands into the gauntlets. "You see these spikes? Go ahead and just punch that dummy over there and tell me how you feel afterwards about the upcoming battle."
"Alright." Hapi came next, not happy to be pulled from her future husband. "What? Balthus nearly choked me out, hugging me while I got out of bed this morning." A hand axe oozing a purple aura was placed into her hand. "Give that a swing for me?"
She swung it through a wooden beam and it hissed as it fell apart at the seams. "It burns the energy from your Crest, as you aren't typically resided to healing, your Crest may as well be used offensively. Just focus your magic a bit into your palm and you should be able to recall it after you throw the thing. Tell Balthus I said hi."
Hapi waved over her shoulder as she walked back to the abyss. Felix was next up, just getting his shield slimmed down a tad, just to block spear stabs, the rest was implemented into a hand guard. "Catch up with you after the week is over?" Felix nodded, a small smile on his lips as he left.
Second to last thing to do was surprise Xavien, he had slimmed down Leistrung and was going to give it to him after he got done testing his new toy. He tossed the staff from hand to hand, buzzing with energy as he channeled magical energy in the center tube. It couldn't do much more than Lightning, but his left arm let him do much more such as Bolganone, Luna, or even Meteor.
He twirled the long weapon in between his hands, gripping the center and neck, then slamming the blade straight through the wooden neck of a training dummy. "This'll be fun."
"What happens when you get attacked by an axe? Wouldn't you be thrust into an immediate disadvantage?" Looks like the Professor wasn't slacking on his training lately. "Grab an axe and come at me then, B." Byleth picked up a wooden axe as Santaniel applied the leather covers for actual weapons. They were perfect for the island's version of sparring.
They took the center of the room, most of the foot soldiers considered this a treat if two generals were sparring. As soon as Byleth moved, Santaniel twisted the center of his staff and was dual wielding mithril axes. They both broke into violent red auras and Santaniel launched forward.
Byleth had work to do with axes. Santaniel caught the very first swing in the crook of his blade and leveled his left axe to the base of Byleth's neck. "Wanna try again or just concede and pursue someone else for some training?"
"I'll concede. I have to ask, who came up with that?" Santaniel smiled deviously, "My brothers may not appear smart from the way Hephaestus and Xavien act, but they have some damn good ideas from time to time." Byleth nodded, "I see. Well, I have to ask you for advice now."
"If it's about Lys, think what your dad would do, B. Maybe you should visit him before we leave." Santaniel grinned, "Just make sure you know one hundred percent before you give her the ring this time." With that, the conversation fell off and Santaniel returned to his temporary quarters.
He had two weeks. Maybe less. He had stopped counting so religiously some time after ten. He just knew he had enough energy to help make a new world.
"If I'm lucky, maybe it could be one I live in…" He yawned and passed into restless sleep. It didn't come easy anymore.
--
Day 10 of the Harpstring Moon
"Hey Dad, hey Mom, sorry it's been so long since I've visited." Kneeling at the simple graves became repetition before battle now. He didn't ever expect to come out alive anymore, his body just wasn't keeping up anymore.
"I meant to come before we marched to the plains, I just got caught up. I hope Hephaestus let you know what was going on, I finally untangled that ball of thoughts I had been complaining about. I do genuinely think she's the one, but… My point earlier still stands. I'm not expecting to come out alive again. It's a miracle I'm still walking."
Santaniel set a bowl to his side, dipping a cloth in, then wringing it out. He pressed the cloth to the white stone, wiping dust and dirt off the tombs and removing grime from the engravings. "May my life follow in your own footsteps Mom. If I die, let it be for the cause I believe in and the future I protect. Grant me protection and guide my blade in times of dire need. I love you both."
Santaniel stood to his full height, wiping at his eyes. "I'll make you proud."
--
Day 13 of the Harpstring Moon
He hadn't been here since his father was buried. He never felt the need, the desire to see the grave they had put him in. He had cried only two, maybe three times in his life. Two were during the week Jeralt had died, the last was… Maybe a dream.
It had been after the constant struggle with Santaniel, Dorothea, and Xavien's words. That he needed to figure out how he felt towards his former star pupil, his advisor… His friend. He never felt the feeling before, mostly faintly when around Jeralt. The sense of friendship… No… Family.
Though, it was stronger around the silver haired woman he's known for a couple years now. She always made his silent smile grow, his heart hum, and… She just made him feel. He didn't know what to do sometimes, but when he looked at her, all he could feel was the need to push onward. The need to make that future where she could live the rest of her life in peace for the first time…
Maybe he really did love her.
--
Day 14 of the Harpstring Moon
Crouching along the cliff face overlooking Fhirdiad felt chilling. The sleeping town, trying to recover from the relentless war raging amongst the continent, a war none of them ever wanted. The ones who did were no more, dirt underneath the boot of their enemies, or simply ash that was forgotten along the way.
He himself had nearly met that fate too many times. He ran a hand over the tender scar that ran through him, the feeling of dread had been slow to leave. He doubted that it ever would.
Being impaled by the sharpened talon of your ancestor was truly surreal. Amongst him were only his brothers, a singular strike team to deliver a blow directly at the Kingdom and Church's final standing men and women. In their packs were large containers of sand, if their plan went correctly, they would end this war sooner than later.
"I have the word to move in from the West. Byleth and Lysithea will be leading the charge up the Eastern side." Santaniel bobbed his head, marking a vigil of safety of the Brigid language in some spare sand. He pressed a heated palm and left it there as a mirror-like substance. He looked down and saw his luminescent eyes glowing back up at him. The eyes of the apex. "Good luck boys. Let's end this."
"Agreed." Hephaestus left him with a warm feeling on his shoulder as he left, "Good luck Sant. Good luck Arti. We'll catch you on the flip."
"Promise?" Xavien smiled, "Of course kid. If we died here… It would all be for nothing now. Does Lin have the procedure blood on standby, off site? Mirror?" Santaniel nodded, "We stand before a demi-god. Let's show the world they can bleed."
--
Entrance to the City
Byleth stepped forward, jabbing the tip of his sword through a foot soldier's throat. He moved through the battle fluidly, his weapon always finding exposed flesh, spilling buckets of crimson blood to the city stones. Innocent people scrambled from houses ablaze, their lives going up in literal smoke.
Daggers were thrown at his head, then knocked aside by a Miasma. A scream later and their owner was dead, "Watch your back Professor." Byleth whipped his blade through a man and stepped aside as his horse sprinted away from the growing fires. "Thank you Lysithea. Please remember to not over exert yourself as well."
Lysithea approached him and brushed some rubble away from his shoulder, "Keep to the center of the streets as well. The buildings are likely to collapse at a moment's notice." Byleth reached forward and wiped some soot from her cheek, "Thank you for the intel Lysithea. I will keep it in mind, now, we should move on to the city square. We need to be ready."
Lysithea finally looked as if the heat was getting to her, the fire spreading to her face as she blushed madly. "Yes… Yes Byleth, we should."
--
Edelgard slammed Amyr into the giant mechanized statue, its Mythril and terracotta shattering under the Relic's might. She jumped back as Gilbert swatted at her, his bulky armor being nearly twice as thick as her own. His shield was massive, and his axe would split hairs from how sharp it was.
She readied her axe, and stayed safe out of range. She circled him, his movements like molasses, once he lost sight, she struck hard with Amyr. He was tossed from his feet, but he quickly got up with minimal damage. Her cape caught the wind, and the smell of smoke grew stronger, the acidic taste building in her lungs.
Neither would back down, but she simply didn't have the time to waste. Santaniel was likely in position already, anxiously waiting to engage with Rhea. Yet, she couldn't engage head on… She conjured a new spell. Lightning. She dashed forward and darted around his shield, pressing her hand to the back of his exposed skull.
He twitched and stuttered, then drove his elbow into her, sending her back. She moved back and gathered her Crest of Seiros' energy into Amyr's head. Gilbert moved forward at a sprint, but with a single strike, she cut through his armor like butter.
His body split, then fell forward, she jumped back as a large piece of debris fell on top of him. She turned around and moved on, she needed to find Hubert and rendezvous at the city plaza. "Goodbye Gilbert. Rest well."
--
"Halt! Don't get any closer!" Hephaestus snickered at the kid atop his wyvern. "Kid, that thing is barely mature, much like you. Turn around, go home, something. No need to throw your life down for someone like Rhea. She'd snap your neck in a moment's notice if it meant she could get her mother back."
"I have no home! And… And that's not true! I'm her personal guard! I… She would never…" Hephaestus yawned and leaned up against a pine tree. "Xavien, any moment now?" The assassin dropped from the branch and slammed his knees into Cyril's neck. The kid flattened against the wyvern, and the large lizard bucked.
Xavien dug Na' Palla into his throat and tossed the corpse to the dirt. Xavien slid off and the wyvern flew off into the night, silent as an assassin. "Ready to make a mirror for Santi?"
Hephaestus shrugged and lugged the cumberson sand jug along. "Yeah, though forty gallons is not comfortable to carry around."
--
Santaniel took one final breath before he trekked down the hill. He couldn't afford to be off schedule, nor could he afford approaching from the air. He'd be swatted out of the sky in mere moments.
'Your approach is clear, Xavien and Hephaestus are now in position. We just need to lay down the sand, then we can initiate the plan.' Santaniel nodded, his boots skittering against the stones as he dropped from the bordering walls.
He was lightly clad in armor, more suited for a Brigand, but it would do just fine now. It was strange having such little weight on his back now, but his shoulders were heavier than ever. His body was practically falling apart at the seams. His skin was as tight as shrink wrap pulled taut. 'Just fight through. Your mission is simple.'
His spiked boots clicked against the stone street, the flaming buildings and cloudy sunset casting the town in an apocalyptic light. As he rounded a corner, he finally found his target. The green haired woman that was responsible for practically everything in Fódlan.
"Rhea." Santaniel stepped out from his side street and stared down the manic woman. "Hello Santaniel. I sense your body is growing more weary. You still have a chance to flee this massacre." Santaniel ground his teeth to the point his jaw hurt. "So. You want me to flee like the adolescent you think I am. I'm just a pup to someone like you, like Seteth, like Macuil, like Indech. I've defeated each and every one to this point."
Santaniel unsheathed his weapon, "The only difference is that you will be the one to die. Now, fight me you maniacal grandmother, this is going to be your grave."
Sand poured around the woman. It flowed in steady, coarse streams. "This is your feeble attempt at putting me in a grave?" Santaniel summoned his wings and threw his father's jacket to the side, and summoned a gale wind. The sand was sucked in, and dispersed evenly over the stones. "Hephaestus! Now!"
Santaniel pressed his hand to the ground and let hellfire race along the earth. It turned sand to heated glass, and soon, he had a tube of blood shattered against it. The surface rippled, and Santaniel dove into the darkness.
--
"Professor! I'd say it's good to see you, but really, I couldn't be more enraged at the sight of you." Thunderbrand glowed angrily in her dominant hand, the sharpened blade horrifyingly swift as it cut through the air. Lysithea readied herself beside the Professor, summoning forth two inky black projectiles. "On your word Professor."
"Now!" Byleth charged and slashed horizontally. Catherine jumped, and was slammed into by the spell, overcharged by Thyrus. The knight stood back up, cracking her neck. It seemed they had just started. Catherine lunged at lightning speeds, striking with the volume of a thunder clap.
Byleth was put on the defensive, both so tightly intertwined it was impossible for her to fire a spell. She bit her lip as she did the only alternative: Unsheathe her own sword. Her Levin Sword floated lightly in her hand, and she struck winding arcs of lightning through the air. "Stay out of this brat."
Catherine closed so quickly, the only way she was halted was the Professor wrapping the Sword of the Creator around her waist. Then, with a burst of strength, she was flung through the wall of a burning house. Thunderbrand flew from her grip, and with two fluid motions, Lysithea brought the house down with her brand new Relic.
--
Santaniel sprang back from the mirror, hacking at Rhea, then descended once again. Every time he descended, he ended up somewhere new, he had used a lot of his blood to achieve this. With every jump his legs grew weaker, along with the grip on his double bladed staff.
He twisted his axe as he jumped again, coming up with dual wielded axes. His eyes lit Rhea's pale face up as he slammed down back on her. She couldn't land a hit, but he was only glancing off her armor.
He touched the ground again and knew she was going to be waiting to snap him up like a fly. He jumped through again and his body shifted, he slammed into the throat of the Immaculate One with sharp talons. She gave a throaty growl and snapped at his head, he jumped back, feeling his tail brush against a building. He placed a foot against it, and with a helpful tailwind, he launched himself at her again.
She was definitely triple his size. His body was barely above her spine, but spines ran down the entirety of her body. It would be impossible to cripple her by just getting behind.
He'd have to go for a leg. He kicked into the air, thorny vines growing up and all around her, but they snapped too easily. He couldn't brute force his way through.
He jumped nimbly over a paw swipe, but his body was tossed like a salad when her tail followed. It whipped into his left side, and it felt like his left arm broke. The bigger dragon stepped forward, glass cracking under her weight. "You will die here with the rest of them. Family or not."
An arcing fire ball came from the woods, hitting Rhea on the back of her head. "You aren't my family Rhea… No. Seiros. You have never been there for me, nor my mother. You never cared for any of your subjects. Not even Flayn or Seteth. You are a sick individual, and I think it's time I see your skull SHATTER."
Her right paw slammed into his chest, his old wounds burning in agony. His ribs flexed as Rhea put her foot against his lungs. She said nothing as she pressed with increased force, and all he could think of was three things.
The first was his brothers, watching as he was in the vice grip of death. They were all collectively holding their breath as they watched their baby brother be squashed like an inconveniencing ant at the table. Arti's bright laughter after a joke, Hephaestus' warm hugs after hard days, Xavien's encouraging words when he was down and feeling depressed.
The second thing was his former classmates. Those who gave their lives to propel them this far, those who were risking their lives now. Fighting down their urges to flee, to escape this horrible bloodshed.
He wanted to see Felix and Lysithea with their loved ones. He needed to see Raphael achieve his dreams, he needed to see Marianne take over the Edmund estate. To see Manuela marry his brother, see them open their school together.
To see Edelgard again…
The last thing was one, final spell… Archangel. He recited the words from memory. "With wings of flame, endowed by the power of thy Goddess and faith, may your life pierce the heavens… And shatter thy target!" Two ethereal wings broke from his scales, and the Crest of Ernest burned on his chest like a final farewell to the world.
A singular, scarlet scar.
It ripped straight through the scales of the Immaculate One and left them a leg shorter. Literally. The monster screamed as it reared back, and Santaniel transformed back. The purple had reached his fingertips, and rimmed his vision with a frame of violet. With the final breath he could muster, he muttered his mother's spell.
"The river of memories flows with memories unmarred by the reflections of the future. May thou be reflected and grant me access to the fire light I wish for." He rolled into the mirror's depths, and with an unceremonious fall, he fell into unconsciousness. The inky void of sleep surrounded him in silence. Only his family could continue now.
'Good luck, Princess.'
--
The mirror rippled in front of them, and Edelgard shivered. She had no time to worry about the worst case scenario, she turned her gaze onto Byleth. "My Teacher, are you ready?" Byleth had a white knuckle grip around the hilt of his sword, and nodded once.
It was all the confirmation she needed.
She pushed herself through the massive mirror, darkness rippled for just a moment, and she was sent skyward. Shattered glass surrounded them, and in front of them was Rhea bleeding green ichor from her foreleg. Her previously immaculate scales were now a smokey gray, and her eyes looked almost glass.
Her blood boiled, and her muscles pulsed with strength. Amyr gathered her energy into its blade, the Professor glowing like a supernova next to her. Gravity did the rest for their attack. With war cries to shatter eardrums, both Crest of Flames burned to life as they cleaved through the skull of the Immaculate One. Rhea's broken body collapsed to the stone, dead.
Byleth sank to his knees, his hair gradually changing from mint to teal. Edelgard stumbled over, picking his head off the ground, pressing her ear to his chest. She pinched her fingers around the crook of his arm, feeling for a pulse.
Nothing.
Tears built in her eyes until a weak pulse started thumping. His eyes opened, now the teal of old… The power of the Goddess had left him, and he could live a normal life again. She clutched to his chest, and sobbed.
The war was over.
--
Arti sat over Santaniel's body, his hands pressed to his skull while Hephaestus articulated the spells as precisely as possible.
Sweat was building on his brow, his knees shaking as Santaniel's purple blood flowed from his veins and was replaced with lime green ichor. He supposed it was Lisa's last gift for Santaniel. Xavien stood at the guard post outside, the only one left inside was Linhardt, and that's so he could assist Hephaestus with the taxing process.
As the blood bank started running dry, Arti swapped it to a new bag. Linhardt took over the spell in the meantime, and Arti massaged Santaniel's chest. The artificial Crest was breaking up, the shards would be removed by actual surgeons after they finished the spells.
"Hey Art, how's it going?" Xavien peeked his head inside, glancing worriedly at Santaniel. Arti pulled his mask down and made a 'shush' signal at the assassin. 'He's doing alright. The surgeons will remove his shards after we're done. He'll live out the rest of his days with minimal issues.'
Arti stroked a couple hairs out of his baby brother's eyes, and looked back up. "We have about twenty minutes left. Make sure to get the surgeons on stand by." Xavien nodded and the footsteps quickly left the tent's entrance. "Where's the Crest tumor?"
"On the right side ribcage, second from the bottom. It'll be resting on the underside of the bone, it'll look like a barnacle latching onto a whale. They'll use a scalpel to remove the strands, then close him back up. Then, he'll be fine."
Arti smiled. "Two wars ended today."
--
Day 19 of the Harpstring Moon
Night had befallen the Empire. The fires had stopped blazing in Fódlan, and had begun burning in celebration. They had won. There was one last secret war to commence however…
Arundel grinned as he walked steadily back to his room, feeling… Fulfilled. He had outlasted his greatest enemies, the Nabateans. Now, he just had lesser beings to slay. He reached his chamber doors, and opened them to a fresh change of clothes. He slipped out of his armor, his castle was full of Agarthan loyalists, why should he have been worried.
The sun had set a while ago, maybe two to three hours since then. He had a long day, and was ecstatic to spend the last of it resting in his bed. Once he had changed into his robes, he laid back onto a fluffy pillow.
He had been so preoccupied with himself, he had never noticed four pairs of murderous eyes watching him with blood thirsty glee as he lowered his guard. A cold, curved, sharpened blade of Mythril pressed against his throat. "This is for Ernest you fucking oil-blooded bastard making bitch." And with a slow pull, Santaniel seperated a wicked head from a wicked body.
They never found the corpse, but there was a faint smell of burnt garbage in the air the next morning.
--
Day 2 of the Garland Moon
Lysithea stared out at the rising sun. The colors were growing steadily lighter. It would all be blue soon, much like her current mood. The Agarthans were entirely destroyed, stragglers hadn't escaped for very long.
It was laughable how they thought they could extinguish the human spirit when they had none of their own. She had been without Byleth for a while now, and now she was back in the Goddess Tower. Exactly where she failed to give him her feeling of affection and soiled the one moment alone since then by freaking out over a ring.
She sighed as she sat down, her eyes stinging with petty tears. He truly didn't reciprocate her feelings, did he? She clenched her jaw, feeling hot tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks like streams.
She had been a fool. A damn fool who hadn't noticed a teal haired man approaching from directly across from her. His footsteps echoed off the quiet stones, and to her surprise, she wrapped in a warm embrace. Byleth spoke softly in her ear, no touch of refinement or repetitive practice in his voice.
In fact, it even wavered a bit.
"I've been thinking a lot. A lot about the emotions I feel, and the emotions about those around me," He swallowed, his voice dry. "I want to apologize for my actions earlier this year, I had no idea what that action had truly meant. My father had told me to give a ring to the one I loved most, and I always did. I loved all my students dearly…" Her sour mood worsened, she just saw her as another student.
She pushed him off, and turned away. "However, I didn't realize the way I felt about you was different, Lysithea. My emotions are still new, ones like anger, sadness, and… Love. My heart had never truly held its own beat, my soul had never been alone."
He looked toward the ground, and took another deep breath. Her fearless Professor looked to be at the verge of a nervous breakdown. "I took the advice of your classmates, to think about my feelings for you specifically. My heart beats stronger around you, when you're in pain, I am as well." She looked him directly in the eyes, tears once again building in them.
Tears built up for both of them. "I finally realized those feelings, Lysithea. I love you," He reached into his pocket and pulled out a lovely pink and silver ring. She couldn't restrain herself anymore, he was halfway through the question when she threw her arms around his waist. "Yes! Yes, I do!"
They fell to the dusty stones of the Goddess Tower, and they sealed their promise, with the first of many, love filled kisses.
--
Day 22 of the Garland Moon
Santaniel sighed as he sat down on the railing in the city of Enbarr. Edelgard had asked to meet him here, she was running maybe ten or so minutes late. Paperwork must've been keeping her late.
He tossed a small silver, intricately designed box between his hands. The jostling of the delicate object it held no doubt would've been objected by Arti had he seen the fidgeting. Him and Marianne had returned to Edmund territory, where Arti had started jewelry, selling rings and necklaces, bringing a decent market to the town.
He had drained his worries into the Holy Twins before he had left, not needing a panic attack in the middle of an important moment.
Speaking of panic attacks, Raphael nearly had one when Xavien asked him to come with him to work as a duo rather than solo. Raphael had professed romantic interests in Xavein, but the assassin immediately denied any type of love life. They now worked in Daphnel together, the most dangerous assassin killing nobles however he may like with toi many resources… Scary stuff.
He didn't exactly dress very… Impressively. He wanted it to be surprising to her, but then again it was her birthday. He snickered to himself, remembering Manuela and Hephaestus' messy, drunken wedding.
The two had immediately left after they exterminated the Agarthans. That had been nearly three weeks ago. They found nothing new about his family, but Lysithea and Edelgard had both been cured before their conditions worsened too much.
The former had regained the pigment in her hair, becoming a healthy coral, nearly identical to her eyes. Edelgard's hair had grown slightly darker, nearly chestnut brown, but remained a median of the two colors since. He rubbed his own faint, green hair between his fingers.
He only had one idea with what to do with his life since the war ended in its entirety. Here it came now. "Hey, I'm sorry, Hubert and Ferdinand were fussing over me." Santaniel giggled, "Heh, it's alright. You don't need to tell me twice that doting is annoying."
She nodded, sighing as she leaned against the railing he sat upon. The sun was nearly a quarter of the way from being absorbed by the horizon for another day. The crimson crown of the sky was shining on the crimson crown of the land. He turned his gaze back to Edelgard, grinding his teeth together, building up courage.
"Hey Santaniel?" He cocked his head, "Yes Princess?" She turned back to him, a faint smile on her face, "I realize I probably haven't said this since our time back at the Academy… But I love you. So," She pulled a small box of her own from her cloak and opened it, a silver ring with a green gem set in the center. "Will you marry me?"
Santaniel looked down, and began to do a mixture of laughing and crying. Tears of happiness burning his eyes, Edelgard staring at him worriedly, "Are… Are you ok?" Santaniel looked up with a goofy grin, "Guess we think alike then." Santaniel opened his hand and revealed the slightly larger box, opening it to reveal a golden ring with a pink diamond in the center.
He opened his jacket and pulled out a crown of rose buds, all in bloom and in varying shades of red. He placed it on the Empress' head, and repeated her own question, "Will you marry me, Princess?"
She placed her head in his chest, and whispered, "I will."
And that is the end to this, hopefully, wonderful story. If you want me to do the final route I would willingly cover, please send me a message or leave a review. It means a lot to me and it'll get my story out to more people. Peace and love from the author- GuardianUnlimited
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