He was somewhere recognizable. A dimly lit corridor. Onyx walls and familiar scents of childhood. The chatter of noisy house maidens and the distant happy screeches of his younger siblings echoed off the walls. And yet, he was alone. He felt cold. Bitter. Inconsolable. The fog of his mind refused to lift as if the embrace of a dream tide had smothered his existence. He could hardly feel his own body, and he was unable to cast his thoughts back – a silver wall blocking his memories. He knew where he was though, it seemed one could recognise their childhood home no matter the circumstances.

"How am I here? And for what reason?" he thought, but it vocalised as if passing through his still lips. It felt natural as breathing, but he knew it was wrong… somehow. Like being unable to scratch an itch in his mind. Niggling and frantic. Something familiar yet so utterly detached at the same time.

I'm Here.

Her voice resounded quietly, and so very distant, but… why couldn't he remember her face?

"Byleth…" he replied without thought, looking for the source of her voice between the narrow walls. The only way was forward. Behind him loomed an eldritch void so deep that he felt himself fading if he stared too long. He could still see the blackness even when he turned away as if etched into his awareness, and with each step, he observed it follow his heels. It did not seem friend nor foe… merely indifferent in the purest possible sense.

Don't give up.

Her voice again.

"You heard it too, did you?" His father said, blocking his path as if he had been there the whole time. Imposing and stern with wild back hair that fell over his pale skin and pointed features.

"Out of my way," Hubert replied, not caring to question the man's presence. He needed to find her.

The past Marquis braced a hand against the corridor wall, halting Hubert's advance. "Searching for your woman rather than your liege? Have truly fallen so much!? Your blatant neglect for your duties will forever be a stain on the family name."

"You have no grounds to chastise me!" Hubert snapped. He felt a build-up of rage, a passion which he had never let slip through his carefully carved demeanour. But it was like his soul had been laid bare – all barriers gone. "You're the one that brought us shame. You spat on a legacy of loyalty and devotion that had lasted 1,000 years! You conspired with the ministers to usurp power from the Emperor. And my liege..." He halted, her name coming to mind along with a torrent of regret. "Lady Edelgard… How. How could I have forgotten her…" He felt the shame like a boulder inside his chest.

"Hmm. It may have been prudent to assign you to one of her siblings. Through your failings, you seem better suited to safeguarding a corpse." His voice was deep as if cracking under its credence. Vibrant green eyes piercing and uncompromising.

"I would have carved this path regardless!" Hubert replied, unfazed.

"That you would. Though at the very least, I never had thoughts of forsaking the family name. A Vestra until the end. Unlike you."

"How dare you claim rights to the mantle of the family name. I have chosen this renouncement, just as you did the moment you turned your traitorous back on the Empire."

"You speak of the insurrection. What I did was to protect you, and our family." The man almost looked repentant.

"Be silent! Nothing you say to me can atone for your lack of honour, that is why…" the realisation hit him. Where he was… Why everything seemed so strange. "I… Executed you."

"Ah, it seems your memory is returning. That's a positive sign at least. Perhaps I'll not need escort you through the gates of hell after all."

The words hit him like the hard beating of a drum.

"Hmph, are you implying I'm dead? Then again, it's just as likely you're simply a figment of my sub-conscious. Or does the goddess merely have a sick sense of humour?" His eyes narrowed as he stood his ground against the unknown.

"Perceptive, aren't we? What I would have expected from my son. How about you take a step back and find out for yourself."

"I'd rather not," he said as he glanced back towards the great void at his wake. "Either way, it begs the question, why you of all people?"

"Perhaps you needed some advice. Father to father."

"Excuse me? Father to father? Perhaps my mind is further gone than I realise…"

"You know it to be true. You've noticed the changes in her, more than she's noticed herself. Going off her food, sleeping more, fatigue. You noticed as much in the battle, normally she'd still be standing after that."

"The…. Battle…" He saw them, the same white walls which held his memories like a dam. He noticed the stone dust upon his coat, the blood which trickled down his sleeve, and the crushing headache that began to creep over his skull. "Arianrhod… the pillars of light…"

"Indeed… You pushed her out of the way as the walls fell," His father spoke slowly, "how magnanimous."

He recalled her face, the echoes of her cries. He saw the remnants of holy magic fluttering over his body.

His father sneered at his son's silence. "Looks like someone is trying awfully hard to keep you alive. Perhaps you shouldn't leave her waiting."

"For once I agree with you," Hubert uttered as this new reality began to stutter and glitch.

"It was hard enough for you to accept a second in your life. How about a third? Are you capable?"

"Yes. There is no doubt in my mind," he replied quickly.

"I know. Protect them from those who lurk in the darkness. Do what I could not."

"Will you allow me to pass?" he said tersely. He wasn't inclined to freely accept the advice of a dead man.

"I was never truly stopping you in the first place." His father said as she walked through him like a spectre, merging with the hungry void behind. And with that, he was gone.

Hubert walked forward, with each step feeling the pain of his body amplify. Though this time, the emptiness did not give chase.

Everything then faded, replaced by dampened sunlight. A blur shaded over his sights as his eyes focused.

"Thank the goddess," Byleth said weakly, hauling him up. He felt his back being propped up against a wall.

His breathing was haggard as he tried to get a handle on himself. His memories all came back through the haze and he leant his head back to rest upon the cold stone. He turned to face her. She was covered in dust and ash, but her feeble smile took pride of place in his sights.

"Are you alright?" he asked through a cracking voice.

Byleth followed suit, resting her head and back on the broken wall. "I'll live," she said through clenched teeth.

"We need to leave," he said, making no effort to move through the pain.

"Let's just rest a moment," she replied. "I used up all my healing magic… on you, so we'll have to wait for aid to arrive." Her hand fizzled as she tried to conjure more, but it failed quickly. She sighed in frustration. "What happened here?"

It occurred that he must have been quite gravely injured to have depleted her magic. He noticed her face wet with tears, streaking down the grime smattered upon her cheeks. "likely a magical weapon," he seethed; trying, and failing, to adjust his body into a more comfortable position. "Given the amount of residual energy… I should be able to track it…"

She laughed weakly.

"I can hardly see what's so funny. Have you finally gone mad?" He coughed a chuckle.

"Maybe," she replied winching as she adjusted her posture, "I fell in love with you, after all."

He huffed a laugh in return, allowing a smile to linger on his features.

"It's just… so like you to already be plotting their downfall," she giggled as if trying to keep their spirits high.

There was a long moment of silence as they rested, minds racing over the situation but their bodies unable to act. He could hear the groans and wails of other soldiers in the vicinity, along with the sounds of crumbling buildings and architecture. Another waft of heated dust plumed around them. Byleth leant her head against his shoulder, shielding them both with her cloak.

"I'm glad the strike force left before all this…" She muttered into his ear.

"Her Highness will be beside herself when she finds out what happened here," he replied softly.

"If only I had found out sooner about Lord Arundel…"

"The blame doesn't lie with you. This is not your fault."

"You're always protecting me," She stated grimly, obviously a doubt on her prowess.

"Said the woman who just saved my life," he replied wryly.


Somewhere along the line, he had lost consciousness. Though this time it wasn't a flail against the dark; it was a warmth that took him. He briefly awoke to the sounds of reconnaissance units barking orders, the feeling of being lifted to his feet and the grace of healing magic easing the pain.

He couldn't tell how much time had passed. Opening his eyes to find Linhardt tending to him, the canvas roof of the tent rippling in the wind. His head throbbed, but he felt the strength returning to his body.

"Ah, good, you're awake," Linhardt said.

"To find myself in your care once again, I dare say this is not my proudest moment," Hubert grimaced.

"That is a… strange way to thank someone. Look on the bright side; at least you're alive." He said bluntly, as if already tired of the conversation.

"What of Her Highness?"

"Safe, and on her way. She sent all medics ahead on flying mounts."

"Do you know the extent of the damage?" He asked, holding his aching head in one hand as he rose to a sit.

"Never a moment's reprieve for you is there?" he chastised lazily, "From what I've heard House Rowe has fallen and a third of the Imperial forces which were stationed are still unaccounted for. That's before considering those injured or dead. The destructive capabilities of that magic… I had no idea such power existed."

"Power of this magnitude will leave a trace, and I will find its origin. As much as I detest the idea, your knowledge may be helpful in that regard."

"Forbidden sorcery that can destroy an entire fortress? Count me out. I'd much prefer to conduct my research in a pleasant, safe room." Those last few words came out wistful, as if pining for the comfort.

"Useless," he hissed.

"No, Hubert, our ambitions are just inversely aligned," Linhardt sighed tersely, "If I tell you where Byleth is, will you leave me in peace? You suffered quite a heavy blood loss, but you should be able to walk around now. Besides, I have many other patients to see."

He shook his head, finding his footing upon the grass. It seemed the camp was stationed outside the walls. "Hmph. As much as leaving your presence pains me so, it would be good to see her."

Lin raised an eyebrow, "Why Hubert, was that a joke? Ugh, I feel uneasy. She's in the second tent down to the right, please don't tarry." Lin waved a hand in dismissal.

Without a farewell, Hubert walked over towards the other med bay. The scene was caked in turmoil, people rushing and assisting, supporting the wounded. He turned back to find the great white walls before him, feeling a strange wave of uneasiness. After this was over, he never wished to return here again.

He made his way to the tent, acknowledging the guard outside before making his way in.

Byleth was stood absentmindedly, turning to see him as arrived. She seemed troubled, unable to meet his gaze.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"So…" she trailed, fidgeting with her hands, "I'm not sure how exactly to say this but the medic has just informed me that…" She stopped as she rested her hand upon her lower stomach, seemingly unsure of her own words.

"I already know," He replied quietly, walking over to her side, "I'm nothing if not perceptive."

She exhaled in relief, "Should I even be surprised?" she finally met his gaze, it was gentle and light. "Typical that you'd know even before I did."

He huffed a laugh, taking her hand in his, "The timing is bad, but it could have been worse."

"I'm not even sure I'd make a good mother… I recall my father saying once that my mother was the happiest when she was pregnant with me. It makes me wonder…"

"Between us, we will make this a world worthy of our child." He kissed her hand before brushing his lips over her forehead. "I… love you," he whispered into her ear.

"… I love you too," she replied shyly, a smile pursed on her lips as she pushed her head to his cheek.

Any tension that was present had left them, and they soon found themselves in each other's arms; holding each other so deeply that all background noise fell to a lull. His hand wandered up, holding the back of her head with his fingers weaved into her hair. He could feel the stone dust between the stands, gritty to the touch, clinging to her scalp. The smell of ashes still fresh upon her skin. An unwelcome remnant of the attack. He pushed his chin to her cheek to feel more of her warmth. She had become so intrinsically precious. This headstrong, vivacious, reckless, beautiful, stunning creature. There was so much he wished to say, but at that moment all words had left him.

Although the man had set the bar incredibly low, he would be better than his father. He wanted his child to never know such suffering and torment, even if it was in the name of some bastard ideal. It would not come to pass. After the war had been won, and those who slither in the dark had been defeated, they would know peace. He would make sure of it. For their sakes.

"You are dismissed, soldier." Edelgard's voice filtered through the canvas. It caught his attention as if it pulled the strings to his mind. Even though her tone of voice was commanding he noticed the worry behind it immediately. A waver he knew well, and which had become commonplace in recent months.

They broke away from each other slightly, looking to the door to the tent as daylight filtered through the opening, silhouetting on Edelgard's figure as she pulled back the fabric. He heard her breath catch as she laid eyes on them, she walked in slowly, her eyes wide and pained.

"I thought…" She muttered, her façade breaking with each step she took towards them. "I thought you were both…" She couldn't bring the words to the surface. Her face sorrowed, trying to hold back tears. He understood now why she sent the guard away. For only they could see her like this.

She reached for them as if to confirm they were real, but instead buckled into them, Byleth bringing an arm around her first, resting her head against hers. Hubert hesitated for a moment. Never had he expected her to cry for him, he believed that part of her had been lost long ago – buried so deep he feared they would never surface again. Yet here she was, weeping into his chest like she had done when she was a child. It was a part of her he had sworn to protect, to guard with his life. A humanity so pure he had almost forgotten how moving it was.

"If I had to walk a path paved by your blood… I could not bear it," she whispered to them both, voice shaking. Her wet, lavender eyes met his, and at that moment, he finally felt more than just a humble servant to his liege. Her friend. Her confidant.

He pulled his arm around her, drawing her close to stifle her tears upon his shirt.

And the three of them stayed like that for a long, quiet, meaningful time.