A gentle breeze rippled across Gronder Field with all the warmth and serenity one would expect from a spring day. The birds were singing, and the fresh, sweet scent of new growth just starting to poke through the soil after a long winter's sleep carried itself along the currents. Under any other circumstances, it would be the ideal day, but today was not the ideal day.

Felix mused to himself as he stood at the ready, awaiting their next battle commands. The entire affair felt like a shameless farce, a poorly-kept secret that no one was willing to call out for what it was—a beautiful spring morning, yet the tension of the battlefield was just barely contained behind the fragile facade. And at the frontlines of their formation stood Dimitri...but the days of their prince hiding his own darkness underneath the surface were no more. The wild boar's uncontained bloodlust was on full, disgraceful display for the entire world to see. And soon, Gronder Field would also take on its true form as well, and the illusion would be shattered.

"I can't believe we're really here. Five years feels like an entire lifetime ago, huh?" Annette's tone was somber. She stood at his side, her hands laced behind her back as she surveyed the field. The enemy lines weren't in view yet. Despite her casual pose, the tension in her shoulders was clear to see. Her mouth was drawn in a taut line as she watched her father and Rodrigue stand by the professor, no doubt holding a final conversation regarding their strategy.

"There's no point in getting sentimental," he answered, his eyes wandering over to Dimitri spearheading their formation. "It won't do any good to get distracted."

"I wouldn't call it sentimental, it's more like...well, sad, I guess. The last time we were here was for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Now we're here again, fighting our friends on the same field, but this time..."

"Sad or happy, it doesn't matter. Survival is what matters."

"Survival…" Annette's gaze followed his own, lingering on Dimitri's form as he held tightly to his scythe. His weapon visibly shook. A tremor seemed to run up the entire length of the prince's body, as if he were struggling to hold himself back from rushing across the battlefield on his own. "Surviving and living aren't the same thing though, are they? Because… Dimitri survived, but… I don't think he's living," her voice was low, "at least… not like he should, that is."

"You're right. Animals survive. Humans live."

The air was still. The birds were no longer singing. It was only a matter of moments until they were given the signal. He found himself looking at Annette instead now. He didn't want Dimitri's harried form to be the last thing he focused on before charging into battle. He wanted to memorize her face. Even though the situation didn't call for it, Felix found himself wishing she'd smile. Seeing her bearing such a serious expression didn't feel right, despite standing at the brink of battle.

He swallowed back an unfamiliar swell of emotion. Facing the battlefield was just another part of life. Working alongside his former classmates was commonplace by now. But something about this battle felt different, and Felix couldn't help but recall Sylvain's earlier comments about the purpose behind becoming Annette's adjutant.

You two pair up, she sings, you get that song out of your head, and then you can move on with your life, right?"

Except he absolutely, definitely, assuredly did not want to move on with his life. And in order to figure out why, all he could think of was to become her adjutant.

"If that's the case then, I don't want to survive," Annette answered after a pause, catching his eye, "I want to live. So let's do our very best!" As if reading his mind, she offered an encouraging smile.

There was no time to respond. The signal sounded, and the air around them seized and quivered as their forces rushed into action. The first wave of enemies came into sight, and a wave of fire magic exploded across their infantry lines. They split off from the main force, following the professor's directions.

Out of the corner of his eye, Felix spied Dimitri carving his way through a line of foot soldiers. His swings were wide and reckless, befitting of a manic animal rather than a prince leading a battle charge.

He's out of control. It's a miracle he's even listening to the professor's orders at all. Someone needs to reign him in, and fast—

"Felix!"

A gentle gust of wind tousled his hair as an arrow whizzed by his cheek. Annette stood only a few paces away, her hands still glowing from the wind spell. Had she cast her magic only a moment later, the arrow would have met its mark instead of getting blown off course.

"We have to focus!" She reached out and grabbed his arm as if trying to shake him from his thoughts, "I know it's upsetting watching him, but we'll be no help to Dimitri if we're dead!"

She was right. She was right, and he knew it. He stared back. Her eyes were wide and pleading. For the first time in ages, it felt as though someone else—someone other than himself—could see things were terribly, seriously wrong with Dimitri. She quickly released his hand and sprang forward, launching another wind spell that knocked an oncoming bow knight clean off his horse.

Dimitri's voice thundered across the battlefield. He roared as his scythe cleaved through the enemy forces like a rabid Demonic Beast crushing blades of grass underfoot. The sound was guttural, primal. There was something unsettling about his delighted laughter.

Felix felt his arm swing out, knocking back another oncoming soldier. His footing was sloppy. Dimitri's descent into madness was impossible to ignore, and Felix knew his own performance in battle was suffering for it. Even if he turned his eyes away from the carnage erupting around his childhood friend, deranged laughter filled his ears and crippled his concentration.

"Felix—!"

The soldier he knocked away earlier charged ahead, then abruptly tumbled backwards and landed in a crumpled heap as Annette's spell slammed against his torso. She looked over her shoulder at him in a panic.

I can't stay focused.

As they locked eyes, Dimitri let loose another peal of laughter from ahead of them. Something in Annette's expression changed. "That's why you can't concentrate," she drew closer and frowned. Her next spell glimmered at her fingertips, ready and waiting at a moment's notice. "It's Dimitri, isn't it?"

He swallowed back the urge to protest. Admitting Dimitri's laughter was distracting felt weak and embarrassing. Not only was it distracting, it was worse than before, worse than when they suppressed the uprising, worse than when he witnessed his friend's animalistic bloodlust the first time. But the battlefield wasn't the time or place for distractions or embarrassment.

"It's Dimitri," he confirmed with disgust.

Felix knew she could just as easily cite his own words from earlier. After all, even a moment's hesitation could mean the difference between life and death in war. But instead of berating him, she drew in a deep breath and studied their surroundings, as if to confirm there were no immediate threats nearby. "Stay next to me," Annette commanded. "And listen closely. Don't listen to anything else. I'll relay any of the orders from the professor. I want you to follow my voice, okay?"

"You're not breaking battle formation, are you?"

"What?!" she looked somewhat flustered. "N-no! I...augh, this is easier if you don't look at me!"

"If I don't—wait, what? I'm your adjutant, what are you talking about?"

Suddenly she spun around and pressed her back against his. The sensation sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. "Just follow my voice, okay?! No one else's!"

A pegasus rider abruptly burst forth from the cover of the nearby treetops and swooped towards them before he had a chance to push for more information. Felix gripped the hilt of his sword and inhaled, waiting for Annette's instructions. But instead of belting out orders—

"Take care, beware,

"A dungeon's traps are everywhere!"

Felix quickly dodged the incoming attack with ease before landing two consecutive strikes, each matching her rhythm perfectly.

"Twists, turns, torches burn,

"The dungeon's map takes time to learn!"

Somewhere in the back of his mind he sensed Annette's movements behind him, but the noise of the battlefield and Dimitri's laughter began to melt away. It felt as though he was back in the training hall again, striking and slicing to the beat of her song. His feet moved on their own in time with her singing. Even the chime of his crest seemed to pair with the pitch of her voice as it filled his ears.

"Dark halls, stone walls,

"Take cautious steps—watch out! Don't fall!"

Felix paused to catch his breath. They had successfully cleared their area of any nearby enemy forces. Annette released a little sigh from behind him and leaned against his back once more. All his earlier focus suddenly unraveled at her touch, and catching his breath was even more difficult than before.

"Okay," she said announced. "The professor is sending us south—we need to take out the archer stationed at the ballista to clear the way for Dimitri," Annette drew forward and began striding across the field.

"Right."

"We can do this. We have to stay focused," her eyes narrowed as she scanned the battlefield, "I can't tell who's with the Empire and who's with the Alliance, but the professor seems to have a better idea. He's directing Dimitri along with Rodrigue and his battalion. If we can just make this last push, I think we have a really good chance!"

"Right," he echoed again and fell into step alongside her. Felix couldn't resist casting a side glance her way. "So…dungeons, huh?"

"D-don't look at me like that!"

"Dungeons? We're on an open field."

"I know that!" Annette's voice rose with embarrassment and her cheeks turned pink, "but it was all I could think of! The Dungeon Song is in two-four time, and that tempo seemed like a good fit for your battle style!"

"Two-four time?"

"Two beats for each measure! You know," she suddenly swerved to the side and shot off two consecutive spurts of wind magic, striking an enemy footsoldier nearby, "One-two!"

"One-two?"

"Three-four!"

"Five...six?"

"N-no! It's two-four time!"

Felix tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword as the ballista came into view. Hearing Annette explain the merits of two-four time would have to wait. Standing atop the hill was an imperial soldier taking aim with the ballista. For a fleeting moment, Felix wondered if the reclusive Bernadetta from the Black Eagles house would've been manning the ballista in the soldier's place, had the professor not recruited them to their own class all those years ago.

"—I mean, it's not a perfect match, and I know there are a few words that don't completely sync up perfectly—"

Something didn't feel right. The soldier was almost too visible, their position exceptionally convenient for an ambush. Felix reached to pull Annette back but was too slow. The second they set foot on the platform, a volley of fire arrows soared overhead, then sank deep into the wood with a sickening chorus of thuds as the platform exploded into flames.

"Glory to the empire!" the soldier hollered above the fray, taking aim with the ballista and firing.

Annette immediately raised another wall of wind, deflecting his projectile and cutting her off from the flames. The gust of air fanned the fire surrounding them. With a surge of adrenaline, Felix sprang forward and struck the soldier down. Somewhere underneath the sound of blood pumping in his ears he sensed the Major Crest of Fraldarius activate and heard the thud of the soldier's body hit the platform.

"Felix?!"

The swordsman spun on his heel in a panic, then immediately shielded himself from the rising flames. "W-what?! Where—" he covered his face with his shoulder and coughed. "Where are you?!"

"I'm right here! Where are you?! Are you okay?!"

Dammit. I'm supposed to be the adjutant. How do we keep getting separated every time we work together?!

"I'm fine," he coughed again, a fresh wave of panic drowning out the earlier adrenaline rush from striking down the imperial soldier. The flames were spreading fast, and it was impossible to see through the smoke. Each second they stay separated was a second things could take a turn for the worse, and he had no way to protect her. "Where are you?! Can you follow the sound of my voice?!"

"N-no! Don't do that, I'm fine! Follow mine instead!"

"Don't be so stubborn!"

"You're the stubborn one! Felix, I'm covered by my wind spell," Annette's voice was high and anxious, "but you're not!"

He crouched down, but even with the shift in height the smoke was still too thick. Breathing was becoming laborious, she was right about that. "Fine then, I'll come to you. Keep talking!"

"A-about what?!" the panic in her voice was rising.

"It doesn't matter! Whatever keeps you calm!"

"I...I can't!"

Felix wheezed. His throat was burning. There was no way to know which direction to head in, and Annette wasn't responding. He swallowed. Now was not the time for his partner to freeze up with fear. "Annette, I need you to tell me where you are!"

"I-I…!"

The flames seemed to intensify with each passing moment. Even the most hardened soldiers would be afraid in such conditions. Felix pulled his cloak over his nose and coughed a third time, then drew a deep breath from underneath the fabric. If Annette was too scared to guide him, he was going to have to take the lead instead.

"F-Felix?! Please tell me you're still okay!"

He took another step forward, slow and cautious. The cover of his cloak was enough to minimize smoke inhalation. He just needed to keep talking in hopes it would lure Annette closer to him and break her from her frightened paralysis. A sudden idea took hold. "A bitter lemon, sour and sharp," Felix shouted over the roar of the flames, "you cut through every dish you meet…"

"Felix!" Annette's voice was closer now. Her earlier anxious tremor was replaced with something more upbeat. Hearing the panic melt from her voice was a comfort and spurred him on. Felix knew how the entire song went. How could he not? Each night it endlessly repeated through his head as he tried to sleep. He knew he couldn't carry a tune, but reciting lyrics didn't require a melody.

"All that's missing to curb your edge is a little dash of something sweet—!"

Suddenly the flames in front of Felix parted, and Annette stood opposite him. A shroud of wind magic surrounded her like a glowing bubble. Her eyes lit up with relief and she rushed to his side, her bubble enveloping him. He drew a deep breath. Finally, fresh, clean air. And seeing her unscathed and smiling made each breath feel even more satiating.

"C-come on!" she grabbed his hand. "I'll push a path through and get us off the platform before it burns up!"

There was no time to dwell on the unsettling feeling that kept seizing in his chest at her touch. Felix took ahold of her hand. The flames parted around them like a ship cutting through choppy waters. The swordsman marveled at how the embers deflected off her invisible barrier of wind and evaporated, leaving nothing behind but a flash and a wisp of smoke.

"Annette?!"

The sound of hoofbeats drew close. The pair stepped out of the flames and set foot on grass, away from the fire and in the clear. Annette lowered her wind spell just in time to see Ashe gallop up to them, Mercedes at his side.

"Ah! Mercie! Ashe!" Annette cried. "Are you two okay!?"

Felix swallowed back the burning sensation rising in his throat. "We can catch up later, this isn't the time! Where's the wild boar!?"

"The empire is retreating, we've won!" Mercedes rushed to Annette's side and began wiping soot off her friend's cheek. "Oh Annie, we were so worried!"

Retreating. So that means Edelgard…

"We won?!" Annette exclaimed. "Felix, we did it!"

Felix surveyed their surroundings and exhaled in relief. The only enemy forces nearby were fallen corpses. By taking out the imperial soldier manning the ballista, they managed to allow Dimitri safe passage to make his strike and push through without the risk of falling under fire. The professor's strategy was solid, even if he didn't account for surprise arson.

"That was incredible!" Annette squeaked, the words spilling out in an excited tumble, "I mean, it was scary, and I know I froze up, but we did it! And you even—ohmigosh, you even remembered my song, it was the perfect idea! Your fast thinking saved us!" Her eyes were shining. Even with ashes on her face, Annette seemed to glow brighter than the very flames that had surrounded them only moments earlier.

Felix felt Ashe's gaze lingering on him and realized he was still clutching Annette's hand. He snapped back in embarrassment. The bewildering mixture of emotions he suppressed earlier came rushing back, filling his face all the way to the tips of his ears with an unwelcome burst of heat. He hoped his own cheeks were covered with soot and would mask the flush of color.

"W-we saw you take out the soldier," Ashe added once Mercedes finished fussing over Annette, "and then the fire broke out. We thought…"

Annette scowled. "I never expected that they'd play so dirty. Setting the platform on fire like that… even if we hadn't stopped them from using the ballista, they… they wouldn't have survived something like that! Do you think that soldier even knew that's what they were planning!?"

Something told Felix that Edelgard knew exactly what she was doing, and the archer most likely had no idea they were meant to be a sacrifice. The emperor's ruthlessness was cold and calculating. If Dimitri was crazed and unhinged, Edelgard was the complete opposite, yet both were unstoppable forces on the battlefield.

At least for now he was able to push her back… but we're just going to keep repeating this until one yields, or worse…

Before Felix had the chance to speak up, a wyvern touched down next to them in a cloud of dust. Sylvain dismounted in a panic.

"Sylvain!" Annette waved him over.

But the redhead rushed ahead as if her voice never reached his ears. He grabbed Felix by the shoulders and struggled to catch his breath. "F-Felix—"

"For the millionth time, we're fine! We need to stop chatting and regroup—"

"No," Sylvain's voice was harried as his grip tightened, "it's Rodrigue. He's… he's dead, Felix."