Chapter 13: Festival

The Harvest Festival began on a crisp October morning with clear, blue skies. The gates of Ylisstol were flung open wide to welcome people from far and wide, and the streets and squares were already crowded and noisy.

Severa, Cynthia, and Noire made their way down from the palace with Noire's cart of merchandise. Noire, seated on the carriage's seat, kept both hands on the cart-horse's reins, but she held them almost casually rather than in the death grip that Severa would have expected. She's certainly mellowed a bit since the end of the war… but I suppose that we all have, at that. Severa glanced over at Cynthia, walking next to her. The younger woman was making a point to step on all of the crunchy-looking leaves lying on the street, smiling at the sound they made. Okay, so maybe Cynthia hasn't.

"I can't believe that we're going to an actual festival!" said Cynthia gleefully.

"As opposed to what, a fake festival? Do those even exist?"

Cynthia spun around. "Well, if they do, I haven't heard of them," she replied. She had put aside her usual uniform in favor of a dress and shawl similar to the kind worn by the village maidens, and seemed to enjoy the way that her twirling made the fabric bell out in the breeze. If the dress stuck in that position, she'd look like a jellyfish, Severa thought in amusement.

"I hope you don't trip and ruin your dress," said Noire. "That would be too bad—especially with the festival just starting."

"Now what makes you think I would—whoops!" Cynthia managed to get her feet tangled up, and only the fact that Severa had already grabbed onto her arm kept her from falling face-first into the street.

"That. That makes us think you would," said Severa tartly. "Now then, do you think you could possibly try to concentrate a bit more?"

"Sorry, Sevvy," said Cynthia sheepishly. "I'm just so excited, I can't help it!" She stopped up short, sniffing at the air. "Mmmm, you can already smell the food cooking. I hope they've got good sweetbread!"

"Just don't make a mess of yourself," said Severa reprovingly. "We need to look good, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess." Cynthia gave Severa an up-and-down look. "Why aren't you wearing a dress, though? It's not like you need to be training today."

"I guess…" Severa shrugged. "I don't know, really. I didn't really think about it at all." It was true, Severa hadn't put much thought into her own appearance that morning, throwing on the same quilted tunic and breeches that she would wear for everyday work. Once, she would have spent hours getting ready; making sure that not a single hair was out of place and that her clothing was perfectly coordinated, even when she had more important things to worry about. She supposed that had stemmed from imitating her mother, who had always seemed perfect even when she wasn't.

Over the last few months, however, she'd gradually let that habit fall to the wayside. It didn't seem as important anymore—not when she had the responsibility of training the new recruits and guarding the Exalt. I suppose it also helps that Lucina isn't really the kind of person who's particularly distracted by appearances.

"Well, either way," said Cynthia, "needing to look good goes for you, too. So you're going to let me pick out something nice for you to wear tomorrow."

Severa, rolling her eyes, caved in. "Oh, fine."

"Yay, I get to play dress-up with Sevvy!" said Cynthia, skipping ahead a few more steps. As she often did when she was pleased with herself, she hummed a little fanfare aloud.

"So, where is your stand going to be?" said Severa, looking up at Noire. "You mentioned that you reserved a spot, but I don't think you ever got around to telling me exactly where it was going to be."

"O-oh, yes," Noire stammered, blushing. "I suppose I forgot about that… sorry…"

Apologizing is like a reflex for her, Severa thought. "Don't worry about it, Noire. Just point me in the right direction."

"Okay… It's down in the main square, near the gate."

Cynthia whistled. "Wow, that's a great spot! How'd you manage to get it?"

"I… I had help," said Noire, smiling.

The streets became more and more crowded as they approached the market, and their progress slowed to a crawl. After going five minutes without moving more than a few feet at a time, Noire's patience was beginning to fray. Severa watched her nervously, wanting to help her somehow but not sure how exactly to do it. She jostled her way through the crowd to move next to Noire. "Are you all right?"

"Just a little stressed," said Noire, her voice strained enough to let Severa know she was much more than a little stressed.

"Um, is there anything I can do?"

"I think that I just need to vent," said Noire. "But I can't exactly get off the cart right… now…"

"I could watch the cart for you, if you need to find somewhere to shout." Although… maybe an outburst would be able to get us moving again…

"Thanks, but—" Noire was interrupted by an alarmed whinny from the cart-horse, as a weedy farmer—little older than they were, from the looks of it—squeezed his way up to them, frowning.

"Move yer cart, yer blockin' the road!"

"Now see here, you! We can't move if people like you keep cutting us off!" said Severa, matching him glare for glare.

The farmer drew himself up, shaking a finger. "Well, 'now see here' yerself, girlie! Everyone here's got places ta be, and I ain't gonna—"

The only warning that she had was Noire throwing the reins down in front of her and leaping upright, to stand on the seat of the carriage. She took a deep breath and let it out in a shout of rage. "QUIVERING POLTROONS! Vacate my path at once, or suffer the consequences!" She gestured grandly with one hand. "How can I seek to bring happiness to the masses when I am prohibited from moving any FURTHER? Stand aside and LET ME PASS!"

Complete silence had fallen, save for the sound of Noire's heavy breathing, and everyone in the street was staring at them. Severa winced. Okay, that might have been overdoing it.

The weedy farmer looked the most shocked of all, but there was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. "Wait, are ya… yer from the Shepherds, ain'tcha?"

Noire folded up like a wilting flower and slowly curled up on the seat. "…y-y-yes. Sorry about that…"

The man's entire demeanor had changed. "Well, ain't I a fool." He swept off his straw hat. "Th' name's Mathwin, but most calls me Mattie. My uncle Donny used ta tell all kinds of tales about the Shepherds. Gosh, y'all are heroes, ain'tcha?"

Severa and Noire exchanged puzzled looks. Cynthia, on the other hand, jumped forward with a grin. "That's right—that's us, the big heroes!"

"Well, I reckon ya could've gotten through if ya'd just said so," said Mattie, grinning. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Oy, Shepherds comin' through! Move yer lazy bums!" The crowd, despite some grumbling, parted as best they could, creating a lane for Noire's cart to move. Mattie gave them a slight bow. "Enjoy the festival, ladies." With a jaunty wave of his hat and a crooked grin, he headed off in the opposite direction.

Noire was still curled up in embarrassment, so it was Severa who took the reins, clucking to the horse to move forward. As they moved on, she looked over at Noire. "See, everything worked out fine."

Noire's reply was muffled by the way she had shoved her face against her knees, but Severa heard enough to figure out that one of the things she'd said was "don't like it."

Severa put a hand on Noire's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "Hey, don't worry about it—you're getting better."

"You really think so?" said Noire tremulously.

"Of course I do." She leaned down next to Noire to whisper mischievously in her ear. "If you were really as scary as all that, Yarne would run away from you the moment that you came into sight."

That certainly cheered Noire up. "Hee hee… thanks, Severa."

Severa straightened back up, a smile on her lips. "No problem."

With Cynthia leading the way, loudly proclaiming to all who would listen that there were heroes coming through, they made good time to the market square. Severa, looking ahead, could see an empty stand with a makeshift awning overhead. Beneath its shade, an impatient-looking Kjelle stood, flanked by two men and a woman, all of them looking to be around the same age as she was. Severa didn't know any of them, but she assumed they were new members of the Shepherds. As soon as Kjelle spotted the cart coming, she waved to them, calling out.

"Noire! We were wondering what was taking so long."

"Sorry, sorry… it's really crowded here." Noire waved to the others, clearly recognizing them. "Thanks for coming out to help."

"Going to introduce us, Noire?" said Cynthia.

"They already know who you are…" said Noire, puzzled.

"Yes, but we don't know them," said Severa. Noire blushed.

"O-oh, right…"

"Introduce yourselves, soldiers," Kjelle barked, coming to Noire's rescue. The trio snapped to attention immediately—it was clear that they when Kjelle told them to jump, their first impulse was to ask how high.

"Ivan: field medic extraordinaire, acceptable swordsman, and… er, a locksmith of sorts," said the first, a short young man with startlingly pink hair and traces of baby fat still on his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm Susanna," said the girl, bobbing her head so that her pale blue ringlets bounced up and down. "One of the Shepherds' new mages."

The second man, a massive broad-chested Feroxi with a deep voice, was less talkative, responding with nothing but his name. "Malcolm."

"Malcolm's axe is probably more talkative than he is," said Ivan, still grinning. "Getting him to open up about anything is about as hard as it gets. Why, I remember one time—"

"I told you to introduce yourselves, not give your life's story," said Kjelle.

Ivan's grin vanished, and he swallowed nervously. "Y-yes, ma'am!"

"Now then, that cart won't unload itself. Hop to it!"

As the three new Shepherds began helping Cynthia and Noire pull boxes off of the cart and set up her market stand, Severa muttered under her breath to Kjelle. "Did you bring them along to do your chores for you?"

Kjelle raised her eyebrows. "What, you don't have your trainees do your chores? How interesting."

"Come to think of it, maybe I should…" Severa mused.

The knight smirked. "I'm shocked you didn't come up with the idea on your own. You're lazy enough, Sev."

"Hmph." Severa stuck out her tongue. "Did you even learn to do your own laundry, or do you still leave that up to the underlings?"

"Well," said Kjelle, "as you said yourself, I am indispensable when it comes to washing laundry." She patted her stomach significantly, smirking.

"One time I said that, and you'll never let me live it down," Severa retorted, blushing furiously.

"That would be remiss of me."

Severa rolled her eyes. "And now you know why I didn't decide to rejoin the Shepherds. I couldn't stand being around you anymore."

Kjelle let out a loud laugh, slapping Severa on the shoulder. "I know you've missed me."

Severa gave Kjelle a playful shove, smiling in return. "Jerk."

After helping Noire set out her wares, and giving her a stern admonishment not to let anyone haggle her down too far, Severa headed out on her own. She browsed between the stands, occasionally lifting up the odd bauble that caught her eye. There were goods from all over: fine tableware from Rosanne, tea sets from Chon'sin, books printed in Valm, furs from Ferox, and jewelry from Plegia. She marveled at the variety: despite the number of foreign refugees who had flocked to Ylisse as the Risen advanced, Severa had never seen the like of these. Those fleeing a war had little use for such luxuries.

Eventually, she found herself in front of a stand of tiny, sculpted flowers, each a piece of unique jewelry. She considered a pair of earrings, crafted in the shape of blooming daffodils. Hmm… they're pretty, but they're hardly practical. She almost laughed at herself. A few months ago, I would have been ready to buy all of this the moment I saw it. Things like this were in preciously limited supply, back then.

Then again, maybe that was the reason I wanted those things so much. Severa picked up another piece: this one was a pendant, the chain connecting at the top of the bloom. Lifting it into the light, she admired the way that the sun sparkled off of each of the petals. This is the best one I've seen so far.

The accented voice of the dark-haired woman running the stand broke through her reverie. "Do you like that one, miss?"

"It's very pretty," said Severa. "What kind of flower is that? It looks kind of like a rose, but… different."

"You have a good eye," said the woman, smiling. "The flower is called tsubaki. They are native to Chon'sin."

"Tsubaki, huh." She liked the way that it sounded. "Does it mean something?"

"In my homeland, tsubaki means many things." The woman held up three fingers. "There are three colors in our gardens. White tsubaki means waiting. Yellow means longing. And red means love." Her eyes twinkled. "Why do you ask?"

A blush rose in Severa's cheeks. "Um, no particular reason." She reached down to her belt for her money pouch. "How much?"

A few moments later, her purse five gold lighter but with the tsubaki pendant tucked inside, Severa headed off down the street. She whistled to herself as she went; a song from Chon'sin about the beauty of flowers.

She passed the rest of the morning browsing among the stands, enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of the festival. When her stomach began rumbling, she had merely to sniff the air to find out which direction food was in. After some consideration, she settled on Plegian cuisine: savory seasoned lamb meat, wrapped in flat bread. She ate as she walked, exchanging nods of acknowledgment with those townsfolk who recognized her as one of the Exalt's companions. Fortunately, none of them tried to engage her in conversation. Probably because my mouth is full. There's an advantage to carrying food around.

Severa had just finished eating and was turning about to make her way back to Noire's stand when she felt someone jostling against her side. "Hey, watch it!" she said, her voice irritated. The figure—a girl with a hood pulled up over her face—did not even turn to acknowledge her. Instead, she continued moving forward, picking up her pace. A sudden suspicion struck Severa, and she reached down to her side to find her purse-strings dangling limply, cut cleanly away. "You little rat!" she shouted. "Come back here!"

The girl broke into a run, and Severa followed as best she could, weaving in and out of the crowd. Her quarry was much less careful, shoving aside or bowling over those in her path, and leaving a string of cursing, confused townsfolk behind them.

Severa was gaining on the cutpurse now, her superior speed and endurance both coming into play. I'm glad that I didn't wear a dress today… it would be a lot harder to run. The hooded figure cast a wild look back over her shoulder and cut to the right.

She'd picked the wrong direction: the pickpocket ran directly into the broad, muscular chest of a familiar-looking man, and the purse dropped from her hand to the ground. Clearly intimidated, the girl scuttled backwards, slipping back into the crowd. Severa would have followed, if only to give the thief a piece of her mind, but regaining her purse took priority.

Before she could bend down to grab it, a pink-haired young man had already snatched it up and was holding it out to her, grinning cheekily. "Lucky for you we were here to save the day," said Ivan.

"Thank you. And what do you mean, lucky?"

"We Shepherds are supposed to make sure that order is maintained at the festival. Commander Kjelle's orders. The big guy is obviously a bit better at it than I am." He nudged Malcolm, who made no reaction.

"Well, thank you, too, Malcolm," said Severa.

"You're welcome," the giant rumbled.

"Don't worry, we'll see if we can track that girl down," said Ivan, saluting. "Can't have a pickpocket ruining people's days. And as the saying goes, take a thief…" He chuckled at his own joke.

Severa was walking away when Ivan suddenly called out. "Hold on, I think you dropped something else." He held out a hand, something glinting in it. "Did this fall out of your purse?"

It was the tsubaki pendant. Severa exhaled in relief. "Yes, that's mine. I just bought it, actually."

Ivan's eyes glinted. "Did you get it for that special someone, perhaps? I alway do like a good—oof!"

Malcolm had cuffed him lightly across the back of the head. "Be polite."

"Okay, okay…" Ivan hurriedly handed the pendant off to Severa. "Back to work it is, then. Try to keep an eye out for pickpockets in the future."

"I'll be sure to," said Severa, her voice dry.

She was approaching Noire's stand when she noticed someone watching it from across the street: a figure shrouded in a hooded cloak, seated on a shaded bench. Everything about the person's posture positively screamed "furtive." Well, if that's not someone trying and failing to go unnoticed, I don't know what it is. She smirked. I bet I can guess exactly who it is.

With exaggerated nonchalance, she made her way over to the bench. The figure didn't react to her approach: in fact, they didn't seem to notice her at all, since all their focus was directed towards Noire's stall. It was only when Severa seated herself next to them and loudly cleared her throat that she was able to get any reaction.

"Eek!"

"And hello to you too, Yarne."

The taguel had nearly fallen off of the bench in surprise, and he gave her what she assumed was supposed to be a deathly glare. Coming from him, it was more like a pout. "Yeesh, you scared me out of a few years of life."

"Well, I can't just let strange men watch my friend from across the street," said Severa, grinning.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," said Yarne. He sighed. "I guess I do look a bit… creepy, don't I?"

Severa winked. "Only a little."

Yarne sat quietly for a long while. He took several deep breaths, as if steeling himself for something, but seemed to chicken out each time and exhaled gustily, shaking his head. At around the fifth repetition, Severa raised her eyebrows. "So…?"

"Um, me and Noire—" Yarne blurted, before catching himself and shaking his head. His dark cheeks lit up in a blush.

Severa took pity on him and smiled. "Yes, I know, she told me."

The taguel giggled, relieved. "Oh. Uh, good. That saves me the trouble."

"You know, Yarne, I'm actually impressed."

Yarne met her eyes, puzzled. "Um, impressed? With me? That's something new."

"Well, don't get used to it," said Severa, winking again.

"Um… why?"

"Noire told me why you were so keen on keeping what's between you a secret. That was remarkably unselfish of you. Maybe even—dare I say it—brave?"

Yarne's hand went beneath his hood, tugging nervously on one of his ears. "You really think so?"

"Hey, you know me. I say exactly what I think." …most of the time.

"Um… thanks, Severa."

"At any rate, I think it's high time that you stopped staring at Noire like a frightened rabbit and actually went to talk to her," said Severa.

"Uh, do you—whoa, easy, easy!" Severa had grabbed Yarne by the hood and yanked him to his feet.

"Come on, bunny-boy, I'll walk you over there if you're scared." She slung an arm around his shoulder, holding him back from any further attempts to escape.

"But she's trying to work—"

"She could use a break."

"But—"

"No more buts!" Severa, ignoring further protests, steered Yarne across the street. Noire, who was counting money, perked up at their approach.

"Severa! I didn't think I'd see you back here until—" She noticed Yarne and blushed, stopping abruptly. Yarne, equally embarrassed, said nothing either.

"I brought you company," said Severa, grinning wickedly. "Have you eaten lunch yet?"

"Um, I haven't, but—"

"Well, then, you should probably take a break," said Severa. "I can cover your stand while you wait, so don't worry about it."

Noire smiled. "Oh… thanks, Severa." She turned around, calling to the back. "Susanna?"

The young mage's blue-haired head popped around the corner of the stand. "Yeah?"

"I'm going to get some lunch. Severa's in charge while I'm gone, okay?"

Susanna nodded. "Sure thing! Do you want me to walk her through the inventory?"

"Your choice. I won't be gone long." Noire, still blushing, edged her way out of her stand and moved over to stand next to Yarne. "Well, shall we go?"

"Y-yeah," the taguel stammered. "Um, but let's find somewhere that isn't so… open."

Noire giggled. "Don't worry, I'm good at finding quiet spots." Linking arms with Yarne, she headed down the street.

Susanna hopped out into the open as soon as the pair were gone. "So was that Noire's boyfriend?"

"Is that any of your business?" said Severa. Susanna shrugged.

"I mean, she's mentioned that he exists, but I've never met him before." Susanna sighed dreamily. "A dark, mysterious stranger… it's so romantic."

Severa had to hold back a bark of laughter at hearing Yarne called "dark and mysterious." If only she knew. That might apply to Gerome, but never Yarne. She cleared her throat. "You mentioned something about showing me the inventory?"

"Oh, right. If you're going to be running the front of the stand, then you should know what's what." Susanna crouched down under the makeshift counter, pulling out a rolled-up sheet of parchment. "Noire marks all of the different charms with different runes, so that she can tell them apart. Happiness, warmth, painlessness, and so on. There's a sign on the front of the stand so that the customers can tell, too, but this is your cheat sheet. It lists the prices, too."

Severa looked over the sheet, noting how each of the symbols looked and comparing them to the charms: carefully etched or inked on to the surface. "All right, thanks."

"Just make sure you let me know whenever you sell something, and how much you sell it for," said Susanna. "Laurent has very high standards of record-keeping, and it's important to keep track of what's no longer in inventory so that we can work to replace it."

"Wait, Laurent is helping run this stand?"

"Noire does put a portion of her earnings towards the Shepherds' overall budget, after all," said Susanna. "Thus, ensuring her success and keeping careful records is in our best interest." The phrasing sounded enough like Laurent that Severa almost expected Susanna to adjust an invisible pair of glasses.

"I'll keep that in mind," said Severa.

"Um, excuse me?" The voice that interrupted their conversation was a familiar one, and Severa turned around to see Lily standing there. The pegasus knight, obviously not expecting to see Severa, immediately jumped to attention. "S-s-s-sub-commander! I didn't expect to see—"

"Take it easy, neither of us is on duty," said Severa. She glanced around, expecting to see one of the other recruits as well, but Lily was alone. "I take it you're looking for something?"

Lily shifted from foot to foot. "Yes, I am. You still have charms against nightmares, right?"

Severa consulted the parchment a moment, then scanned the merchandise until she could point them out. "Those bracelets, there."

Lily lifted up one of them, weighing it in her palm. "How much?"

"Let me see…" Severa consulted the parchment once again, looking for the starting price. "Twenty gold."

The Feroxi knight pulled out her purse without hesitation. She's not even going to haggle at all? Severa covered up her surprise at that with a sardonic "So, buying something for that special someone?"

To her utter astonishment, Lily blushed. "It's… for Teresa." She continued on hurriedly. "Um, that is, we're not actually… uh, the two of us aren't—but I was hoping, maybe, that if she felt the same way, that I could…" She trailed off, hurriedly setting down her money, and snapped off a salute. "Um, I have to go. Excuse me!" And with that, she disappeared.

I guess she really is serious about this. I wonder what Teresa's reaction will be… She shook her head. Another customer was approaching, and so she banished thoughts of her subordinates' love lives from her head.

It was almost three hours before Noire showed up again, apologizing profusely for losing track of the time. Severa patiently weathered the storm of her friend's contrition, secretly glad that Noire had managed to make some time for herself. After Noire had said sorry at least twenty times, Severa managed to reassure her and head out into the fair once again.

As the daylight began to wane, Severa turned her steps back towards the castle. She'd left Paula and Renee behind as Lucina's escorts, but it wouldn't be fair to keep them there all night, especially when a lot of the festival's fun happened after sundown. Besides, she was tired from the amount of walking that she'd done, and was looking forward to a hot bath and curling up with her book afterward.

She was passing by a tavern when she heard a roar of noise from inside. Curious, she backtracked, stepping inside to find out what was going on.

As she crossed the threshold, there was another thunderous cheer, punctuated by a loud thud. She edged her way through the crowded room towards the source of the noise to find Kjelle, her sleeves rolled up, grinning broadly and flexing her muscles. Opposite her, a burly man was ruefully rubbing at his sore arm. Money was changing hands throughout the crowd: obviously, there had been more than a few bets on the outcome.

Kjelle spotted Severa and waved her over, her speech slightly slurred. "Hey, Sev, come over here and have a drink on me! I've got plenty to spare." She gestured to the coins on the table in front of her—right next to a line of empty mugs. She's certainly been busy.

Severa slid into an empty chair, and an expectant serving-man sidled up behind her, clearing his throat. "Your order, ma'am?"

"Just a hot cider, please," said Severa. She turned back to Kjelle. "Arm-wrestling for money. Why am I not surprised?"

Her friend grinned wolfishly. "Hey, I have to find some way to earn my drinks. Surprisingly, Laurent isn't too generous about budgeting for entertainment."

"Typical of him," said Severa. "Although I'm sure that you could get plenty of free drinks just by leveraging the Shepherds' reputation."

"He frowns on that sort of thing, too," said Kjelle, an exaggerated grimace accenting her words. "Says that our reputation will wear out if we take advantage of it."

"I suppose he has a point." Severa nodded in thanks as the server set down her cider. "I haven't seen him around yet."

"That's because he won't be in town until… tomorrow, at least," said Kjelle. "Owain won't be, either. They've been working on—" She stopped, blinking owlishly. "Well, I really shouldn't give it away."

"Oh, gods," groaned Severa. "That doesn't sound ominous at all."

"I think you might be pleasantly surprised," said Kjelle, chuckling a little more than was necessary.

Severa took a sip of her cider, burning her tongue slightly. She hurriedly blew on it to cool it off and sipped again, this time savoring the way that the various spices mixed with the flavor. "Well, I guess I'll find out when I find out."

"That you will," said Kjelle. She began rolling her sleeves back down. "I heard that you had a little run-in with a pickpocket earlier today?"

"How did you—oh, right, your Shepherds probably reported it," said Severa.

"You're welcome, by the way."

Severa scoffed. "I would have been fine on my own. Another couple of seconds and I'd have caught the little jerk myself."

"And you nearly lost the necklace you bought. Who was that for, by the way?"

"I bought it for me," said Severa, blushing. "Who would I even give jewelry to, anyway?" She buried her nose in her mug, taking a long drink. Gods, she's nosy when she's tipsy…

Kjelle shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose."

Neither said anything for the next few minutes: Severa was busy drinking her cider, and Kjelle seemed to have found something very interesting in the wood-grained surface of the table. As Severa set down her empty mug, Kjelle finally broke the silence.

"Hey, Sev?"

"What is it?"

"Do you ever… I don't know, do you still think about what happened during those last few months of the war?"

"Sometimes."

For once, Kjelle's confidence seemed to be shaken. "I can't stop thinking about what happened. About what would have happened if our parents hadn't shown up, or if they had been even a little slower. We would have died, failed our mission, failed Lucina, and—"

"You shouldn't dwell on it," said Severa. Gods. She must have had more to drink than I thought. Kjelle never shows weakness… not like this.

"I can't help it." Kjelle held up her hand, palm up, every callus and scar on full display. "I've spent my whole life training to be a warrior. Everything I've done has been to make myself a better fighter, to… sharpen myself, like a weapon." She clenched her fist and slammed it on the table. "But now that we're at peace, I'm reduced to gambling and drinking, and running a damned police force. Chasing down pickpockets, breaking up tavern fights… I'm not cut out for this." She propped up her cheek on one hand. "I feel like a bloody suit of armor on display: good for nothing but polishing and looking at." The knight snorted. "And I don't polish up that well."

What the hell is she talking about? "Um, Kjelle…"

"I just…" Kjelle shook her head. "The only times I really felt alive were when I was fighting. When there was a risk that I might die. The feeling of my heart racing, and a weapon in my hands, was evidence that I existed. But this peace… it hardly feels real at all. I keep thinking that, any moment, the dragon is going to rear up and everything is going to begin again. And if it does, I won't be ready for it." Her words came more quickly now, almost in a torrent, as if she was spilling out everything that she had kept bottled up inside. "In the end, all of my effort wasn't enough. I had to rely on the dead to fight for me. After everything I did, I was still a failure, and now I'm barely of any use to anyone. Sometimes I wonder if there's even a point—"

All right, I've heard enough. Severa picked up her mug again and slammed it down on the table with a loud crack, making Kjelle start in surprise. "For the gods' sakes, Kjelle, snap out of it. You're better than this!"

"I—what?"

"We killed a dragon together, Kjelle, a gods-damned dragon. So what if we had help? Nobody ever accomplished anything like that alone!" She glared at her friend. "You've accomplished incredible things. All of us have. But we didn't do it alone. We had our parents' training, we had each other, we even had a damn miracle. But that doesn't devalue what we've done one single bit. We gave everything that we were so that we could succeed."

"Well, when you say it like that…"

"You and the Shepherds are doing good work. You're clearing out the Risen, helping make the country safe again. Just because you're having an easy time of it doesn't mean you're not making a difference."

There was another long, awkward pause, during which Kjelle simply stared at the table. "You're just getting maudlin because you've had too much to drink, aren't you?" said Severa dryly.

Kjelle laughed bitterly. "Yeah, probably."

"Well, get some sleep, then," said Severa, gentling her voice. "You'll feel better in the morning."

The other woman grimaced. "You obviously aren't familiar with the concept of a hangover." She pushed herself upright, leaning on the table, and groaned. "Fortunately, I'm staying upstairs, so I don't have far to walk."

"Sweet dreams, Kjelle," said Severa. Kjelle waved in reply and began making her way towards the stairs at the back of the common room.

Severa stepped out into the street and took a deep breath of the cool autumn air. I had never realized how much Kjelle tied her identity into fighting… but now that I think about it, I really should have much sooner. She sighed. I guess things were much simpler when we were at war… all we had to worry about was surviving until the next day, doing what needed to be done.

I guess, all that time, we never considered what would happen next. It was too far away, too unlikely to even imagine.

No wonder Kjelle wanted a drink.

She'd be sure to check in on Kjelle tomorrow—hopefully, her friend would be in a better state by then. In the meantime, however, she had a job to do. Paula and Renee had patiently foregone attending the festival, and it was on her to relieve the sisters so that they'd be able to enjoy the evening. She'd also have to rearrange the guard rotation on Lucina, to make sure that each of the pegasus knights got sufficient time to enjoy the festival, and a dozen other tasks, beside that. Severa quickened her pace, heading up the long road to the castle.

This is going to be a much longer week than I thought.