Miklan led his little brother to an abandoned village some distance away from their home. Sylvain looked around the deserted village with curiosity. Based on the surroundings, it had been vacant for quite some time. Without warning, Miklan pinned Sylvain onto the ground.

The boy was stunned by the sudden violence as well as the elicited pain. "What are you doing, Brother?"

"Don't 'brother' me, wretch. Think about all the wrongs you've done me,"

Tightening his grip on the boy, Miklan marched him towards a dry well. Holding Sylvain over the mouth of the well, he hissed, "Perhaps you need some time alone to think about them,"

Before Sylvain was able to utter a word, he was dropped into the depths of the well. Following a thud, he felt a stab to his body, though more acutely on his shoulder.

"Miklan, this isn't funny. Please get me out of here," pleaded Sylvain.

"You shouldn't have been born. I'm the one who's supposed to lead the Gautier family, but it's all your fault I didn't get to become the heir. Good luck down there," scoffed Miklan as he walked away.

Sylvain listened to his brother's fading footsteps with escalating dread. Panic welcomed him into its embrace. Willing himself to calm down, he began to look for a way out. The well was not too deep to begin with, and thus lit well by the afternoon sun. Touching the cool brick walls, he noticed no footholds that were big enough for him to fit in. The bucket attached to a rope crank atop the well was out of his reach. Even if it were let down, Sylvain doubted he would be able to scale the rope, seeing as his shoulder gradually began to throb and swell.

He resolved to wait for Miklan's return; screaming for help proved most unhelpful. He wished someone would come over to rescue him. If his parents were not even aware of his disappearance, what are the chances of them coming to his rescue? He then thought about Dimitri and Felix. They lived leagues away, which would be even more improbable for them to aid him. Trying his best not to think of death, he focused on other thoughts as he waited. The pain on his shoulder increased with each passing moment, but Sylvain bit back his tears.

The sun began to set, yet not a single soul passed by the area. Sylvain began to cry. He missed his parents sorely. The belief that Miklan would come back for him was waning fast. He could never fathom why his brother was so cruel to him, all due to a Crest.

The same went for Ingrid too. Being the only child in House Galatea to bear a Crest, she was betrothed to Glenn since birth in order to maintain her family's noble status. What if she were not engaged to Glenn, but to some old creep?

A noise broke Sylvain's train of thought. Perking his ears, the sound of hoofbeats grew louder. Sensing it as a once in a lifetime opportunity, he screamed for help with all his might.

A face soon appeared over the mouth of the well, silhouetted by the setting sun.

"What are you doing all the way down there?" asked a girl's voice.

"I fell down here a few hours ago. Please, help me out," replied Sylvain desperately.

Without another word, the girl left, calling for her father. Soon, the boy was freed from the well. Tears flooded his eyes once again as he thanked his saviours profusely.

A woman handed Sylvain some water, her gaze landing on the boy's shoulder. "Oh my, you seemed to have dislocated your shoulder," she remarked.

"We'd better fix it before it gets any worse," said the man who pulled him out of the well earlier. "Don't worry, we're traveling apothecaries. You're going to be right as rain after this,"

The girl held Sylvain's hand. "Trust my parents. You're in good hands,"

Sylvain nodded, though he was not sure he would let someone touch his injured shoulder. As the man cracked his shoulder back into place, white hot pain nearly knocked all the air out of his lungs. Tears shed from his face anew, as he felt the girl trying her best to calm him down. Salve was covered on the infliction before it was bandaged.

"You did a good job, boy," said the woman, smiling warmly.

"You're lucky we happened to pass by. Who knows what would've happened if we didn't?" commented the man. "Now, would you tell us about yourself, so that we can help you get home?"

As Sylvain recounted his story, he could not help but notice the girl's lingering touch on his hand. The family was coincidentally travelling to Gautier territory to set up shop. They were left with speechless when the boy revealed that he was a Gautier. Why would a noble boy be dropped into a well so far away from home?

Sylvain did not remember what happened when he returned to the Gautier household. However, girl's father still visited him occasionally to track the progress of his shoulder. Miklan was ever more hostile towards him, as if he cursed the luck that brought Sylvain back home. Perhaps it was futile to mend their relationship, concluded the young boy.

"Checkmate,"

Sylvain snapped back to reality. He found himself surrounded by books sitting in shelves so high, he was unable to see where they ended. Felix grinned triumphantly at a forlorn Dimitri.

"You have to start using your brain, Prince. How else are you going to lead the country in your current situation?"

"I don't understand, Felix. Your moves may seem careless and recklessly planned, but they always work out in your favour in the end,"

Felix snorted. "That's how you get your enemies,"

Turning to Sylvain, he asked, "What do you think about it?"

"You've always been a professional in chess, so I don't see anything out of the ordinary here," replied Sylvain matter-of-factly.

"I demand a rematch," grumbled the prince.

"Do you want to play against Sylvain for a change?" offered Felix.

"No, I want to play against you,"

"His Highness has spoken, friend," Sylvain offered his support. "Being the observer, I glean lots of information from either side,"

"Please, Sylvain, just call me Dimitri. We're not in court," interjected the prince.

Sylvain and Felix shook their heads in unison. "Your attendants might overhear, and we'll be in for a stern talking to," said Felix.

"That of which we don't look forward to," added Sylvain for emphasis. "Sure, they don't look like they're in the library with us, but we don't want to risk it,"

The next round of chess commenced. Just as things were heating up, the trio was interrupted by a knock on the door. Glenn stood by the doorway.

"Pardon the intrusion, Your Highness, but it's way past your bedtime," said he. Turning to the young nobles, he added, "The same goes for both of you as well,"

"Let us finish this game, at least," argued the players defiantly.

"The match is getting more fun, too," added Sylvain.

Glenn sighed. "You have five more minutes before I haul you away,"

It was way past five minutes, and Glenn, too, was engrossed in the game.

"And, checkmate,"

Dimitri let out a loud groan.

"Alright, Your Highness, Felix, Sylvain, off to bed you go," announced the elder Fraldarius.

The prince stomped away, saying nothing.

"Please hold up, Your Highness," exclaimed Glenn as he went after the prince.

"It must be difficult, being His Highness's personal guard," remarked Sylvain.

"And yet, my brother never complains," replied Felix as he picked up the chess pieces. An idea popped up in his head when he stowed the chessboard away.

"Hey, Sylvain, let's sleep in the same room tonight,"

The pair would always share a room if one family visited the other, exchanging stories or playing with each other till late at night.

"Why, are you still terrified of the dark?" teased Sylvain.

Felix felt his cheeks heat up. Desperate to hide it from his friend, he looked the other way. "Jeez, would it hurt you to say no instead?"

"That's just a joke," said Sylvain in a fit of laughter. "Alright, we'll do just that,"

The bedroom door creaked, revealing a thin shaft of light. Sensing no one beside him, Sylvain assumed Felix went out for some fresh air. The latter should have roused him, he thought, so that they could keep each other company. Sylvain tossed around, willing sleep to reclaim him.

A hand reached for his shoulder. He thought it was far too big to belong to Felix. The darkness obscured the visitor's face.

"Hello, Sylvain Jose Gautier,"

The boy in question blanched. The voice belonged to none other than his brother, Miklan.

"Tell me, how did you manage to escape the well? I was hoping you'd starve to death down there,"

"Miklan, how did you come to Fhirdiad?" murmured Sylvain, willing his voice to stop trembling. "And you found your way into the castle, no less,"

"That's beside the point. I'm here to finish what I started,"

"I don't understand. Please, Miklan, why can't we talk this out?"

"Talk? Bah, what good would it do? Your stupid Crest won't magically transfer to me,"

"Is that all you think about? I just wanted to talk to you as your brother for once! Why can't we ever be like Glenn and Felix? Why must we be enemies?" demanded Sylvain so forcefully, tears misted his eyes. He was glad the darkness hid his face from his brother.

Miklan showed no emotion bar hatred. "Spare me your sob story, rat. The fact remains: you're always going to be the bane of my existence,"

Suddenly, Sylvain felt air being choked out of his lungs as his brother put him in a chokehold.

"Mik… lan… can't… breathe…" croaked Sylvain, desperately clawing at his brother's hands, which overpowered him tremendously, but to no avail.

"Die, you pathetic wretch," sneered Miklan, tightening his grip.

"Brother… no…" Sylvain's consciousness was fading fast. He doubted Felix would be able to do anything if he returned just then. Perhaps he would get Glenn's assistance, but there was no time left. His cells were already screaming for oxygen, as they were far too deprived of it. He felt himself fade into nothingness.

"Sylvain? Sylvain!"

He felt a sharp slap to his face. Felix appeared in his line of sight, illuminated by a bedside lamp.

"What happened? Am I dead?" asked Sylvain, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You're very much alive, idiot. You were screaming for your brother while holding your neck,"

Sylvain did not miss the look of relief washing over his friend's face.

"Tell me, what really happened between you and Miklan?" asked Felix after a long pause.

Sylvain scratched his neck, refusing to meet Felix's eyes. "It's a rather long story," he murmured.

"If that's so, I guess you can tell me later in the morning. Good night," Felix decided against pressing for further details. He pulled the blanket over his shoulders after extinguishing the lamp.

The redhead reached for his friend's arm. "Can you stay up a little longer? I don't feel like sleeping just yet," He was not ready for Miklan to appear in yet another nightmare.

Felix turned over to face Sylvain. "Alright, scaredy cat. Felix Hugo Fraldarius at your service," he said with a smile as he relit the lamp. "Tell me a bit about the dream you just had,"

Sylvain realised he had no choice but to tell Felix the truth about the Gautier brothers' broken relationship. Perhaps it could lessen his burden if someone lent an ear.