Chapter 11

They'd lost over a dozen men, including Lucas, and Hawkeye. Veronica's troops were far better prepared than expected, and Xander himself had shown with reinforcements, crossing blades with Alfonse, the blond prince on a horse while the Askrian fended him back from the ground. He'd put the wounded on his own horse in the hope he could send them back to Serra and the other healers they'd brought. Burying their dead hadn't been possible, Alfonse ordering to have them burned as they retreated. Rolf had fired the shots with a heavy heart. At night, Olwen heard him thanking the goddess that none of those men had been his brothers. Hearing it as they sat around a campfire had nearly undone him. Alfonse tried his best to keep every man and woman in his army alive. He also did his best to make sure he kept them at a distance. Because he was bound to lose more of them with every new mission. And that thought had him worrying about Sharena and the people he'd sent with her.

He itched to write a letter to her, something short and simple that would let her know he worried but also give her some encouragement. He wasn't quite good at those, his sister being the best out of them too at cheering people up.

The reconnaissance mission had led them a good week away from their main camp. Right now, it felt too close for comfort and Alfonse had ordered his troops to split and take as many different routes as possible. The best off had the mission to patrol the nearby villages to make sure that everyone within their territory was safe. Xander had asked after his brother, but not about Corrin, which had to mean that none of Veronica's men knew that Corrin had been summoned to this world yet. He wasn't sure their initial plan was going to work, but at least, they still had the element of surprise up their sleeve.

Like surprising such a man can help, Alfonse sighed to himself.

He couldn't wait to be back in camp and try to wash away those new losses with more work and planning. At least, they'd cut down Veronica's numbers, laying waste to a ruin she'd turned into a fort. They had destroyed so many walls from that place with their fighting that it was unusable for either army now, but at least, this result made it feel as though the blood and souls paid had not gone in vain.

About ten days later, he was greeted by smiles as he finally arrived back into his camp. Sharena was already back, Anna catching up to him as he got off his horse. She wanted to give him a rundown of what had happened, but his return had quickly been announced all around and just as she was saying the word bridge, Alfonse felt a hand grabbing his shoulder and a fist slamming into his face.

His pride would have wished for him to raise an arm in self-defense, but he was exhausted and supposed to be back to safety now that he was in his second home. He barely caught a glimpse of blond hair, sensing the flaring pain spreading across his face as blood ran down his cheek.

"Why the hell did you not send us out with more people?!" Leo asked him. "My sister nearly died out there!"

The news was like a slash through his insides, his heart instantly worrying about Sharena.

His eyes went to Anna's face, who was glaring at Leo and stepping between them.

"Did you have to keep your gauntlet on? I was going to…" she started, only to be interrupted by Sharena and Corrin both calling their respective brother.

"Alfonse!"

"Leo! I told you not to…!" Corrin limped over to him, Azura supporting her on one side.

"Why are you not resting?" Leo cut the dragon princess off, giving Azura an accusing glance who just shook her head at him. He turned back to Alfonse who was wiping the blood from his face, still kneeling on the ground. "I have questions for you, highness."

"I'm willing to answer, but I suggest you use words," Alfonse grunted back, pushing himself back to his feet. He was covered in more dirt now and his left eye was aching while his skin burned. "Otherwise, ask me for a duel in the arena."

"Why would you suggest that?" Sharena sighed, hurrying to her brother's side.

Alfonse blinked hard as he tried to gather all he could from the people around him. Corrin was leaning on a crutch, her armor replaced with ample clothes that were usually offered to wounded and recovering people.

"You sent us off with barely any people and not a single healer, counting on my sister to do all the work since she can shift into a dragon!" Leo declared, straining for calm through his rage, swinging his arm wide to gesture at the retreating women as Azura aided Corrin to what he assumed was the direction of somewhere to rest.

"I…"

"And you put your own sister in charge instead of picking an actual tactician with experience," he added, his teeth grit together and breathing hard through his nose. .

Sharena tensed next to him, but Alfonse was seeing red now.

"Now you've crossed a line. We may not know what happened in your original worlds, but Sharena and I have fought Veronica's army for the past three years. Three years. And there were always skirmishes or something before that."

Thoughts of his disappointed father looking down on him made bile rise in his throat, Alfonse biting back on any more words, glancing at Corrin as though to ask if she was in such a bad condition. It felt wrong. He wished no pain to anyone under his command. But he was still raw from the battlefield, could still see Lucas covered in blood and Hawkeye's severed arm lying across the field in a puddle of mud.

"She is not fit to command, have her support soldiers or take arms, she can fight, but a leader needs to think on the fly."

Alfonse felt Sharena deflating a little more next to him and struggled to keep his hands from turning into fists.

"Leo, please, this is not the time," Corrin asked him, catching his arm with both hands.

"My oversight in not sending a healer with you is inexcusable, an error I shall not make again. You have my most sincere apologies, both you and Corrin." He marked a pause, Leo giving a stunted nod of acknowledgement. "Now, regarding my sister, the next time you speak ill of her, I'll be the one punching you."

Leo gave a noncommittal shrug, Corrin punching his side, wincing as she did so, and cursed at him for even being like this.

"You're impossible sometimes! Alfonse, we ended up fine."

"Your wound got infected before we could make it back because we were sent off unprepared!" Leo protested.

Alfonse winced, catching the guilt in Sharena's eyes as they exchanged a brief look. He hated whenever he made her bear more on her shoulders. There were times when she couldn't even smile and knowing it was his fault for not being a better leader, for not planning further ahead…

"What's done is done," Corrin tried to calm him.

Leo clearly had more to say, but he decided it was better to get his sister back in her bed. They had installed a cot in her tent to make sure she would be allowed good rest to recuperate. Alfonse waited until they were gone to drop his shoulders, wincing from the throbbing still going through his face. Sharena stepped closer to him, Anna cursing under her breath.

"You need to sit down and have this cleaned up," his sister told him.

"I should check on the rest of the…"

"Alfonse, your commander - that is me if you remember - can do it. Rest up. Eat something, slap a cold steak on that black eye."

"It's already black?"

"And puffy. Kinda disappointed your nose is intact," the red-haired woman joked, pulling her tongue at him as she backed away quickly.

Alfonse groaned, mentally cursing for how it pulled at his face.

"Brother, how bad did it go out there? You didn't send a single letter." Sharena reminded him.

"It was bad. But that's nothing new really. Are you okay? Was Leo disrespectful and this… furious the whole time I was gone?"

"Only from the moment Corrin got hurt… And he has a point. I could have done a better job back there. We've never had a dragon in our ranks."

Alfonse thought of Ninian, but it was different, since the young woman never shifted. He felt more blood dripping from his face and raised his already blood-stained sleeve.

"Why do we insist on wearing white out here?" he mused.

"Cause we both already look too pale?"

Sharena wrapped one arm around his shoulders to help him out and back to his tent. It wasn't the first time he'd taken a punch in his life, but he still despised the brief walk of shame. He didn't refuse his sister's help though, his pride was not that strong. As he heard the usual hubbub of their camp, he wondered if some sounds were missing. If the new absents would leave a void for long enough anyone would notice before they were replaced by yet more people joining their seemingly never-ending battle. A shot of blond hair over blue feathered clothes caught his attention, even though his left eye could barely open by now.

"Alfonse?" Fjorm asked, her eyes widening at the sight of blood.

"Oh no," he blurted out, instantly regretting his words.

Sharena was too close to not have heard and if she had the chance, she would tease him. It was what sisters were for after all.

"What happened to you?"

"Unhappy soldier gave me a piece of his mind?" he tried, managing a grimace that might look like a smile.

"Right as you arrive back…" she sighed, taking a tentative step forward.

Alfonse was glad to notice she stood straight and didn't need to use her lance as a support anymore. She still carried the weapon, giving him the impression she might have been wondering if she should leave, the thought giving birth to a small ache he couldn't quite locate. Was it his chest, his throbbing head or just his mind playing tricks on him?

"Want to help me take care of him before he tries to check on maps and more battle plans instead of resting?" Sharena suggested.

"I'd like to help," Fjorm answered, the lightest blush showing on her pale cheeks. They made their way back up to the tents that served the Askrian leadership. She noted how they were more akin to cloth cabins than actual tents, especially when compared to the housing of the soldiers in the rows. They walked past the one that had served as her bedroom for these past weeks and into the largest of the central tents, and she realized this was the first time she was to see the interior of anything aside from the tent she was housed in.

The inside was quite lavish, even more so than the one she had been in. She at first assumed that this tent housed all the Askrian leadership until Alfonse welcomed her to his tent. They truly had made a new home of this camp, and she wondered about their original home. Were they just so invested in this war, or was their birthplace destroyed?

She had the impression that Alfonse would never call himself a sentimental man. But there was evidence to the contrary around his tent. Banners of his homeland flanked the inner and outer flaps of his tent. A dummy held a tunic draped over a set of armor that was clearly intended for show and not use. Edges were frilled with gold-toned thread, the chest bearing the Askrian crest and an unfamiliar written language wrote something around the neck.

A quilt was draped over the edge of the large cot to the side of the room with such care she was certain it was not intended for use. But it looked like something a mother would quilt for a small child, and the size looked about right. There was a bookcase absolutely stuffed with books, several more sitting atop the small furniture that could not fit inside. Beside his bed was a table with a chess set upon it.

"You play?" she asked as they walked to his bed so he could sit down.

"You may sit my lady."

"I think you forget why we are here?" Fjorm replied, and heard Sharena snicker behind her.

"Trying to get a lady into your bed already?" She asked.

"I shall not dishonor her such! Your mouth Sharena, by the gods… you've spent far too much time around Anna and Kiran!"

"How hard did Leo hit you?" Sharena asked. "Fjorm, you may sit with him. I'll fetch some hot water and a good steak."

"You shall not waste the good steak on my eye!" Alfonse protested immediately.

"Oh don't fret. I'll still cook it up and serve it to Kiran later, he won't notice the difference." Sharena waved her hand. "Make sure he stays out of trouble and doesn't start more fistfights." Sharena instructed Fjorm and left the tent. A heavy silence hung over the pair as they were left alone, Fjorm the first to break it as her attention again shifted to the chess board. Closer to it she could see it appeared very old, and handmade. The squares were just shy of perfect, and the pieces worn with age. One piece appeared somehow older than the others, and made from a different wood.

"You knight is odd." Fjorm remarked, picking up the piece and turning it over in her hand.

"Be careful! Umm.. please. Sorry." He backpedaled quickly when he saw her shocked expression. "That… that was my grandfather's. He gave it to me when I was old enough to train to be in my father's army so I could lead it. To remind me every knight has a purpose. He used to play games with me, teaching me to play. Then he would challenge me to defeat him without my knights. I couldn't do it. Like a King can't win his war without his knights." Alfonse explained. Fjorm let him take the piece out of her hand, and he started turning it in his own fingers, old memories of games and strategies floating around his mind. Of various challenges. Trying to defeat him with no rooks. No bishops. No Queen. He could never win a game against his grandfather missing a unit, even if he got to replace them with another.

"Much pain?" Fjorm asked.

"The memories? No. My grandfather was stern but kind." She saw a flicker of expression and gave him a moment before she clarified.

"I meant your face."

"Oh." Alfonse replied, reaching up and touching the skin just beneath his eye. He withdrew his hand with a hiss, clenching his teeth together. He sniffed again, swallowing more blood. He was going to need a hearty mug of mead to wash away more than just the pain. Both missions had gone horribly wrong, and he counted himself lucky that Sharena's small party to destroy the bridge suffered such comparatively minor casualties.

"Alfonse?" Fjorm asked. He looked up and gave her a humorless smile.

"It hurts but it'll stop." He answered. Fjorm nodded, and he could see the tension in her shoulders. He wanted to reassure her but where would he even begin? He wasn't even settled himself. "Perhaps you should go rest?" he suggested, feeling ashamed and vulnerable. His plans failed. He could only imagine the letter from his father, the distance to the castle his only comfort. Perhaps Anna could write it, and blunt the news paradoxically with her blunt words.

"I've rested quite enough and am feeling restless. But should you prefer to be alone I can-"

"No!" he cut her off, standing up and holding up his hands to stop her progress. They both stopped and stared at one another, and after a pause Fjorm sat back down. "I don't mean to kick you out." He tried to explain. Sharena reappeared then, and he couldn't have been more grateful. She had a slab of meat in her hand and walked over to Alfonse, ignoring the way he leaned back, and pressed the steak to his eye.

"Ow…" He complained, but pressed his hand over the meat and righted himself. She had gotten it fresh from the buried icebox and after the initial sting came immediate relief.

"I should have gotten you a new shirt too. And remind me to give Leo a piece of my mind!" Sharena huffed. "Perhaps we should treat him like a prisoner."

"I doubt the echoes of that would carry well." Alfonse disparaged. "Only create more enemies."

"If our injured dragon-friend isn't already." Sharena sighed. She sat down next to Fjorm, who shifted herself with what little space was left on the cot. "What happened brother?" She asked. Alfonse hesitated, silence hanging thick in the air. He shifted in his seat, his gaze locked to his knees as he tried to gather his thoughts. But he started slow, trying to recall the memories that were already beginning to spot over. Whether it was because he wanted to forget it, or his recent blow to the head, but he got enough of the detail out. Their mission was a near-failure. The casualties too numerous for him to feel right calling it a victory. And judging from the bridge party's return, their mission could also hardly be counted as a victory.

"But it sounds as though, at the least, the bridge was destroyed, the enemies guarding it defeated. It sends a message that you now know of their attempt to cross the river and subvert you." Fjorm offered after the siblings finished bringing each other up to speed.

"But they have superior numbers. What if the bridge was a distraction? We could never survive a frontal attack from Veronica now. She has the upper hand." Alfonse responded. Fjorm explained her disagreement, but saw that at least for now she was not going to break through his melancholy by trying to offer her perspective on the situation as described.

"Feeling better with the steak on your eye?" She asked instead. He shrugged, dropping the steak and touched his fingertips to the area again. The bruising was darker, though the swelling hadn't gotten any worse.

"Why don't you go check in on Hilda? I just got a deserved punch to the face. I assume she'd be happy to see you stop in. Maybe check on Corrin too." Alfonse suggested. Sharena shook her head,

"I'll go check on Hilda for sure. But I don't think Corrin, or more likely Azura and Leo, would really appreciate me showing my face around that part of camp. Unless you want us to be twins." She grimaced. Alfonse's expression soured and he stood up, balling a fist by his side.

"If that man lays a finger on you, Corrin's brother or not I will have him arrested!" He barked. He felt pressure on his shoulder and Fjorm speaking from behind him,

"This is no help to you." She urged. She was right, anger would accomplish little more than cloud his judgement.

"I should pour over my maps. Mark our next move."

"I'll talk to Anna and Kiran too." Sharena agreed. She had wanted to suggest that her brother simply rest, though she knew his stubbornness would only make him dig his heels in further and just hoped that perhaps Fjorm could calm him. Her brother had been acting a little strange at times since she was brought back to camp. She bid them good evening and parted, suggesting that Alfonse change his shirt.

He looked down, seeing the large blood stains and sighed. He doubted there would be any use for this tunic now aside from intimidating enemies if he coupled it with an animal mask.

"Mayhaps the maps can wait until morning? When rest has cleared your mind of what battle has fogged."

"The longer we take-"

"Alfonse… please consider. A half-day delay in the making of new plans will not turn the tide of war. For war is the glacier trying to climb back up the mountain in winter."

"Many glaciers where you come from?" Alfonse asked, and kicked himself for the wording.

"We had what we called the twins. Two mountains to the north that had great glaciers. One unusually hot summer we discovered a pair of ancient cities that had been buried by the glaciers." Fjorm explained.

"How far north is your home?" Alfonse asked. Fjorm thought, and realized she didn't know exactly where she was and fear instantly gripped her heart and the impulse to suddenly run, steal a horse, anything to charge away form this camp, find highground and get her bearings.

"May I see one of your maps?" She asked, trying to bring herself back down to the level of rationality. He brought it over, and she started to look it over. There were landmarks she didn't recognize, though perhaps it was simply the difference in the artistic choices of the mapmaker and the names of places in the tongue of the Askrians. On the far north edge of the map she finally found something familiar. It was a river that ran from north-to-south through her homeland, but at the southern border turned west towards the sea and began to wind around forming a series of oxbow lakes they called the string-of-pearls, though it appeared that the Akrians called it the armor-studs. More landmarks on the map were named such. The Sheith Mountains, Fletcher's Forest, Forge Lake. How long have they been at war? And how could such a focused nation result in people as kind as Alfonse or as happy as his sister Sharena? Were they too pulled from other worlds?

"What are you looking at?"

"The String-of-Pearls lakes." Fjorm replied. "In the winter we used to travel south to them. My family had a small palace here," She paused and pointed to the largest of the lakes. "It would get too cold in the northern palace, and some years the glaciers would run far enough south we'd end up scared of being trapped. It was so nice… Gunnthrá taught me how to skate. Yglr was always too frightened. How mother would tease her…" Her voice trailed off, vision blurring as tears took over her eyes.

"The what?" He looked where she was pointing, and she was glad for his focus on the map. "Oh. The Armor Stud Lakes." Alfonse replied. "Wow.. you made it this far south on your own?" He marveled. He looked up suddenly when he heard her sniffle and realized her eyes were red and she was running her thumbs under them. "Fjorm…"

"I'm sorry. We came here to tend to that strike." She shook her head, sniffling hard and took a deep breath to keep herself from breaking into a sob. The memories of her family hit her harder than she could have ever imagined. He tried to give her words of comfort, though they both knew there were none that would provide it. The pain of recalling her siblings would never abate until she found them, and the smell of her mother's burning corpse would linger forever.

Alfonse wanted to reach out and slip an arm around her to give her a shoulder to cry on. But her statement reminded him he was wearing a tunic covered in blood and he was still dripping from the nose what blood he wasn't swallowing.

"I should make myself a little more presentable." he commented.

"You should see a healer." She corrected.

"Father would re-bloody my nose were I to waste a healer's time on such trivial things." Alfonse answered.

"I see not your father here. It can be our secret." She replied. Alfonse wanted to debate the issue further, a true man wouldn't be bested by a single punch. He supposed that at the least without such a throbbing face he'd be more apt to pay attention at the tent meeting to discuss what to do with the two semi-failed missions and what they should do about the enemy building bridges to their lands.

"I don't wish to distress someone." He argued.

"Why don't you rest here then, I can go find a healer. Are their tents marked?" She offered. The idea of wandering alone in this war camp of strangers terrified her, but she had a strong suspicion he would refuse her off outright.

"No! We can uh, go together then." He counter-offered. "Just let me be less… umm.. Frightful. Would be ill of me to go fetch a hunter as their leader looking like this."

"Fair enough. Let me help you," Fjorm replied. She got up and shook her head at his attempted protest and gathered a pitcher of water, a shallow bowl, and some spare cloth. She dipped a cloth in water, wishing that she could have heated it, and wrung it out.

A large amount of blood had dried and caked to his upper lip and chin, but came off with only a bit of fuss. Fjorm had her head tilted as she concentrated, using her thumb to rub the cloth against his skin. The water was cool and felt refreshing. With her leaning over him, Alfonse could see just how blue her eyes were. Her skin was pale and he could see the thin lines of blue and red running just under her skin.

"You have very pretty eyes." He remarked. She paused what she was doing, the cloth pressed against the corner of his mouth. "I… I was always told to pay a lady a compliment when one arises." He explained. Though he was only telling her the truth. Her eyes were stunning, complimented with her pale skin, her blonde hair, matching the frosted ends of her hair.

"I suppose then it's only fair that I admit that your eyes are quite handsome as well." She finally replied. "You father sounds like a strict man. Has he arranged for a young woman's hand to be promised to you yet?" She inquired. Alfonse stopped picking at the lint on his knee and stared at her for a moment, wondering where in the heavens that question came from.

"Technically yes." he answered, and cleared his throat while he shook his head. "However... A terrible plague of tuberculosis swept through much of this continent. My betrothed fell to the consumption, as did my sister's betrothed. We both had been promised to a pair of cousins."

"Oh! I'm terribly sorry for you both." Fjorm frowned and removed the cloth from his face, rinsing it in the bowl of water. "I recalled word of a disease in the south meaning we would be without goods from traders that year. But I had no idea that it was so severe."

"I had only met her a pair of times. Hardly knew her. My sister knew her betrothed better and perhaps it was better that he succumbed… she always seemed so ill taken to him. Lacked her usual sense of cheer and optimism. As though there was nigh some positive she could find in her match." He continued. His sister had known her entire life that she would be promised to some young prince or duke or other lordling at their father's will, and wondered what the Sir had been like to cross her so. "As for yourself? A beautiful princess from the lands to the north must have had many a suitor vying for her hand." He asked.

"Yes… I had several suitors. But most were for my elder sister Gunnthrá. So far north there was not much advantage to marrying the second or third child." Fjorm replied. She had fancied the third son of a local lord, but it was little more than that. Just the fancy of a stupid girl. As was this blooming fancy for this foreign man in these foreign lands. Just wishing you were like the girls in your books she chided herself. She let out a hard breath through her nose and went back to scrubbing the last dried specks of blood. "We best get you to the healer now," She stated to interrupt any further talk of betrotheds.

"Broken nose you suppose?" He asked. Fjorm studied his face for a moment. His nose was indeed swollen, though whether it was off-center was difficult to say. She was certain in due time his eyes would be blackened, or at least the one on the left who's lid was already slightly swollen, where he had been pressing the meat his sister provided.

"I'm not a healer. Though a broken nose can be quite rugged and fetching on a man." She replied. She stood up and brushed her dress straight, rolling her shoulders and turning abruptly on the ball of her foot. "Perhaps after you visit the healer we can try to get a hot meal into you, and meade does well for the spirits." She suggested. "Cook up that steak we held to your eye?"She suggested.

Alfonse couldn't help a light smile.

"Would you accompany me, or did you eat already?"

….

They had enough orbs to proceed with three summons. Sharena and Alfonse gathered with Anna and Kiran to help each other with explaining to the heroes of foreign worlds why they were suddenly in a new place. They had wanted to bring Corrin, whom Anna dubbed the cheerful lizard, but Azura and Leo insisted she stay in bed, which they made known to the Askrians in no uncertain terms, and let her rest for once, and Corrin had agreed. And Alfonse had no desire to earn a second black eye to match the first by crossing her brother again.

Instead, Byleth had joined them. She had yet to agree to join their side, and had requested to know more about these orbs that tore her away from her world. The stone steps leading to the shrine where they tore apart worlds felt too much like a religious shrine, like an outdoor cathedral. Tall stone pillars felt as though they were bending over to get a better look at her, the ever-watchful eyes of Rhea. But upon the altar the orbs were revealed, simple multi-colored balls that could have been oversized marbles a child would play with. There was little to discern from the actual summoning, and she felt like maybe coming with them would have been a waste of time.

The first person who appeared from thin air was a tall dark-skinned man with thick black hair beaded on one side. He had green eyes and was dressed in gold and black, sporting a bow on his back. He dropped the book in his hands as he caught sight of his new surroundings.

"What kind of…?" He fell into a fighting stance, an arrow dropping into his hand as he pulled his bow free to aim at them.

Alfonse raised both hands to show he meant him no harm, side-stepping to put himself between the summoned hero and Sharena.

"Your name's Claude Von Riegan, isn't it?" he asked, cocking his head slightly with up-turned brows. .

"How do you know that?" Claude's stance stiffened and he drew back tighter on the notched arrow. His arms started to shake and he knew he couldn't keep the threat up for long and was forced to drop the tension again, though he didn't un-notch the arrow.

"Byleth?" Alfonse asked, sensing that she might be their best option to diffuse this situation.

Claude's eyes widened, his shoulders tensing as he blinked too quickly, trying to hide his reaction, but Anna could sense the anger flaring out of him as he tried to adjust his stance and re-aim the bow.

"Why is Byleth here? Are you part of…"

Sharena tried to start the usual explanation, holding up her hands like Alfonse had, stepping from beside his protection. "Hey, look, we mean you no harm." She called up. "We're not part of-" She paused, trying to think of the words but she wasn't her brother and she wasn't able to keep entire histories of foreign worlds trapped inside her head ready to use on the fly.

"We are not allied with the Death Knight. Nor any enemy of Fodlan." Alfonse supplied in the silence. Claude's jaw worked, and he lowered his arms further, fatigue quickly building up. His eyes looked about and he stepped back, nearly stumbling over the small hole in the altar where the orb that summoned him was placed.

Byleth had remained silent until now, slowly trying to process this sorcery. Of all the people they could summon, it wasn't a stranger, it wasn't even a student from another house, it was...

"Claude?" she interrupted. Her arms were crossed and if he'd been close enough, he would be able to see she was holding her own arms tightly to keep her hands from shaking, despite her relaxed stance and impassive expression. She stared up at him, eyes narrowed as though she doubted her own eyes.

"Byleth? I thought… Are you alright?" Claude asked in a stammer, and finally dropped his aim, shoulders slumping as he took a step forward to fix his stance. He slung his bow over his back and stepped down from the altar to rush towards her and touch what he was sure was an illusion crafted by Rhea.

She pushed his extended hands back, overwhelmed and her lips thinned, pressed tight together, angered to have all those royals watching. She didn't trust them. She couldn't bring herself to. And from talking with the various warriors Petra and Hilda had started calling comrades across the camp, she knew that this Claude might not be hers, hence why she pushed him away from her.

"I'll explain everything to you. But I need you to come with me and answer my questions first."

"What? How did you even do this?" he wondered, and cursed Rhea with his next breath.

He wanted to hold her more than anything, but the harshness in her eyes was stronger than ever. His stomach was heavy at the idea she doubted him. How was he supposed to understand this? She'd vanished so suddenly, the last months had been a nightmare of sleepless nights, looking for answers, looking for her with a little more despair every day.

"I did nothing. Claude, this is not your world."

He frowned, immediately picking up on her choice of pronoun. Her voice held strong and steady as always. She wore different clothes from the day he'd last seen her, but she looked the same. Could he trust his eyes?

"Byleth…"

"Come with me, I'll explain. Surely I can explain this whole mess to him myself?" she asked, turning her head to the pair of royals.

Alfonse squared his shoulders, Sharena giving a quick nod.

"You're no prisoners, we ask for help, we don't demand it," the blonde added.

Claude glanced from Byleth to Alfonse and Sharena, his eyes hardening at the hooded figure of Kiran. It reminded him of Tomas. Of the man behind Tomas who'd almost taken Byleth away from him, back when he hadn't realized just how much she mattered to him.

To be continued…