The Soaring Eagle was the finest inn in Enbarr, more accustomed to nobles and their retinues than conquering armies. Claude had taken over the common room and repurposed it as his command post Maps were spread out over the long tables, the known positions of the remaining Imperial forces marked, crossed out, and marked again with each new scouting report. Claude himself was bent over the most recent of them, conferring with one of the Almyran commanders Nader had left behind. Byleth blinked. Sometimes, the last six months felt like a dream. She would wake up and Claude would be her star pupil who told people not to trust him with a smile so easy that they trusted him anyway. This man was tall with lean muscle from years of mounted warfare and the hard, sad eyes of a general who had ordered comrades to their deaths too many times. He still schemed, but now his vision of a world without borders was a concrete thing that Byleth could fight and die for.

"You don't have to remind me how things work east of the Throat." There was a low, dangerous note beneath his smooth voice. "But I'd like to spend the next decade doing something besides putting down rebellions. If any of the men start looting or if they kill civilians or soldiers who have surrendered, hang them. Understood?"

"Understood. As much as we deserve a prize for our fine showing today..."

"Well, as it happens, I'm looking for something in the Imperial treasury. You can find something to calm your men from there. The Emperor's got to have lots of ill-gotten gold and jewels just sitting around. "

The commander's eyes glittered as he saluted and marched off. Byleth wondered if she was the only one who noticed Claude letting out a long, slow breath. "Have you slept? At all?"

He smiled, but it was smile he had given her when they first met, the one that didn't reach his eyes. "You know how it is. No rest for the wicked. And you don't look like you've slept either."

"Too many patients." She had expected many things to change when she had been forced into an unlikely career as a teacher, but the strangest was that she had discovered a talent for something beyond the blade. Manuela had called her one of the most naturally gifted healers she had ever seen, and Byleth had thrown herself into learning everything she could about the art. Anything to wash off the stink of the Ashen Demon. This last, most terrible battle had left her with more chances to hone her skill than the entire year that she had been a professor. All but the top floor had been converted into a makeshift infirmary and she had spent Sothis-only-knew how long mending bones and closing gaping holes in the flesh and sometimes simply holding people's hands as they died. They had suffered from her. She could do no less.

The top floor contained only one patient, who had not stirred it all. Lysithea had insisted on taking charge of her personally, and Byleth had been all too glad to put off the confused jumble of emotions that Edelgard kicked up in her.

"Professor, I'm so happy to see you again. It must be the Goddess Herself who kept you safe these long years."

Byleth swallowed down the jolt of anxiety that thrummed in her chest. When she had realized how long she had slept, there were two people that she hoped and yet dreaded to see again. One was Edelgard. The other was Rhea. Five years of captivity had made the Archbishop no less beautiful, but also no less unearthly. Her pale skin was spotted with bruises and half-healed scars that spoke of cruel treatment. She was thinner than was healthy. And yet, her movements were almost too fluid. Every eye in the room trained on her as she passed. Her long hair fell about her shoulders, and without the headdress, she looked like a sad nymph come to seek consolation among the mortals. She was the closest thing to maternal warmth Byleth had ever known, even as her father, Claude, and good sense warned that powerful didn't take an interest in common mercenaries out of the kindness of their hearts. Byleth squinted. Her ears were mostly hidden by her hair, but the point of her ears was unmistakable to one who had spent so long dreaming of Sothis. And she could transform into a dragon.

Who was Rhea? Byleth had learned something like love during her year at the monastery and given part of her heart to Rhea, but there was still so much she didn't know about the woman who had given her a home.

She knelt before Rhea, as the library's etiquette books had instructed her was proper. Rhea's hands trembled almost imperceptibly as she fluffed Byleth's hair. Byleth fought the urge to lean into the warmth. "No, there's their need for formality. We are like family, you and I."

Byleth rose, and was very aware of the dozens of curious onlookers. She had so many questions and good and bad news to deliver, but none of what needed to be said could be said here.

It was Claude, as always, who came to her rescue. He sketched a curt bow. "I'm glad to see you up and about, Archbishop. There are questions I've waited years to ask you." He grimaced. "And something happened that you should hear about from me."

Rhea stiffened. Byleth knew the look on her face well. It was the same one that the wives and children of fallen Blade Breakers had worn in the moment between seeing Jeralt and hearing the news. They knew. They always knew. "Then we must speak somewhere more private."

Claude led them to what was normally the innkeeper's quarters, and now served as his private office and storeroom for anything too sensitive to be shared with the army at large. Hubert's letter lay open on the table. Claude showed Rhea to the only chair while he and Byleth took up positions in front of her. Byleth bit her lip. She had felt emotions more and more strongly since the night she had rescued Edelgard, Claude, and Dimitri, but she still wasn't very good with people. She wasn't sure how to tell Rhea that two people she loved were dead.

It was Rhea who spoke first. "I know the look of someone who bears news of death. Tell me."

Claude looked at Byleth and then back to Rhea. "We had to take Fort Merceus on the way here." His voice was gentle, his tone sincere in a way that was a knife to Byleth's heart. "There was a group mages working alongside Empire. They unleashed javelins of light that fell from the sky and destroyed the fort. That would have incinerated us too, if it weren't for Catherine and Cyril clearing the way." He bowed his head. "I'm sorry, but they didn't make it."

Byleth had lost count of the number of people she had seen break down crying since her return, but that made it no easier to witness. Rhea's sob echoed through the room until Byleth want to cover her ears. She was more pained animal than human as the tears rained down her face. "No. No no no." She covered her face with her hands. "Must those monsters take everything from me?"

"We'll leave you alone. The questions can wait a little while."

"No, you will not leave." She wiped her eyes, and Byleth gasped. They were red-rimmed, as she would have expected, but rage overpowered the grief in her face. She was a raging inferno that could have consumed all of Enbarr with merely the way she bared her teeth. That terrible gaze fixed on Byleth. "Professor, you must swear to me that they will die. I was tortured for years. They took everything that ever mattered to me."

She was supposed to give a hearty assent. Nothing suggested that the shadowy power that had stolen most of Lysithea's life and reduced Edelgard to screaming and whimpering were even capable of coexisting with decent people. But there was a difference between killing to protect and killing to satisfy some deranged notion of vengeance or honor. She had learned that among the ashes. "I don't even know what they are or where."

"That they are monsters who would defile everything the church holds sacred should be enough. But if you must know more… Javelins of light could only come from Agartha. They created a civilization full of technological marvels and thought they could raise their swords against the Goddess and destroy humanity. The Goddess destroyed them for their hubris, but there have always been shadows in the dark, puppet masters manipulating Fódlan to cause chaos and destroy the Children of the Goddess who they hate above all things." Her breath hitched. "They were supposed to be dead."

Realization dawned on Claude's face. "You're one of those Children of the Goddess, aren't you?"

Her laugh was bitter. "You always were far too clever for your own good. In the olden days, you would have been expelled from the Academy within a month. I am one of the last children. The war I told you of happened long before I was even born. I thought the Agarthans were as dead as my ancestors. You have my word on that."

So Rhea...wasn't human? Some part of Byleth must have known that. Even the most powerful magic couldn't transform someone from human into dragon. But still...there was something to that ridiculous propaganda Edelgard had spread? She wished she could sit down. What are you? she wanted to ask. What am I? But she was already exhausted from the strain of the last forty-eight hours, so she directed the conversation to safer ground. She picked up the letter. "Marquess Vestra's last request was that we destroy these Agarthans, but the calculations he sent us were incomplete. The best we can determine is that the javelins came from somewhere to the east. Do you know anything that could narrow our search?"

"I wish I did. I would like nothing more than to rip them apart with my own hands." She coughed. "I'm afraid my years in confinement have not been kind to me."

"You need to rest." Claude sprang to her side and helped her to stand. "I don't think by a long shot that this is over, but you need to get your strength back."

"So kind." She chuckled, and for a moment Byleth was back in her private quarters drinking tea and listening to stories of Jeralt. But the warmth passed as soon as it came. "I will recover. I must. They must pay for what they have made me suffer and what they did to my ancestors in blood."

Byleth sank into the unoccupied chair as Claude escorted Rhea out. For so long she had thought rescuing Rhea and ending Edelgard's war was the end of her path. That was before Lysithea was . She was meant for simpler things. She was a weapon meant to be wielded, nothing more. Certainly not a revealer of secrets.

She gripped her knee and gritted her teeth. Those thoughts were poison. If she were only a weapon, she would not panic every time one of her former students charged into the fray. She wouldn't have spent so long in the makeshift infirmary or given a sliver of her own life force to keep Edelgard going. She would not have spared Edelgard at all. The Ashen Demon had died at Garreg Mach, and dead she would remain.

"I packed Rhea off to get some much-needed sleep." Claude returned and closed the door behind him. "There's no way she's telling us the whole truth, but I think were going to have to wear her down little by little. And we still have no idea where to find these Agarthans. I guess were going to have to ask Edelgard when she wakes up." He glanced down. "Rhea is not going to be happy that she's alive. Everyone is living for vengeance and no one is living for the future."

"We'll deal with Rhea when we have to. I don't regret that decision."

"Hey I'm with you. I've killed enough classmates to hunt my dreams for a lifetime. If we can sway the Emperor to our cause, that's a powerful symbol for a united Fódlan." His smile turned sly in a way that always had made Byleth want to hire a food taster for the other houses. "And of course it's always nice when you can save the girl that you had a crush on."

Heat spread across Byleth's cheeks. "I...that's not..."

"So you didn't spend the entire ball sighing over her and wishing she would ask you to dance? And you went to the Goddess Tower for some fresh air? And—"

"Has anyone ever told you that you are the most insufferable man in the world?" Byleth rubbed her temples. She had never had much interest in romance when she was a mercenary, regarding her comrade's trysts with more curiosity than anything else. Then a girl with silvery-white hair had come rushing through the undergrowth and Byleth's pulse, if not her heart, had thudded loudly enough to drown out the rest of the world. She had been willing to give her life for that feeling before she even knew the girl's name. Her time as a teacher had been hardly better. Every scrap of casual conversation seemed fraught with hidden importance. She had had only enough presence of mind to teach the house furthest away from the Black Eagles because otherwise her newfound feelings would have either driven her insane or made Seteth execute her for conduct unbecoming.

She loved her students, Claude most of all. She loved Rhea. Even an emperor couldn't create Demonic Beasts or stand by while her allies committed atrocities like Remire. But sometimes she would remember how sad Edelgard had looked when they had fought amongst the flames during the battle for the monastery and wonder if things could have been different. "I won't let my feelings jeopardize your dreams for a better world. They're my dreams too. But that infatuation was the first time I felt like a person."

"I know. Just be careful, all right? We're on my plan that's a backup to a backup to a backup, and I haven't worked out all the details yet."

Byleth allowed herself to smile. "I thought that was how you liked it, Master Tactician?"

"And, yet again, I must ask who came up with that name?"

"If you can tease me about my infatuations, then I can call you whatever I like."

"And to think I thought you were a sourpuss when we first met."

Her smile grew wider. They were in uncharted territory, but they had ended the war that had plagued the continent for five years and defeated the most powerful army the world had ever seen. She had her friends by her side. And, whatever the consequences, she had managed to spare Edelgard.

There was a single, sharp knock on the door. Ferdinand. He had mustered all of his considerable energy and confidence in helping to maintain order and reassuring the civilians that their lives and property were sacrosanct. He looked like he needed sleep more than Byleth and Claude combined. "Professor? There has been a difficulty."

So much for her brief optimism. "'Rioting in the streets' sort of difficulty or 'someone broke my favorite tea set' sort of difficulty?"

"You should know that I would never risk something so valuable to the chaos of battle. A few houses were destroyed during the fighting, and I remembered that the rooms here were very fine and that we weren't using all of them." The shadows under his eyes seemed to grow more pronounced. "I was attempting to ascertain their suitability as refugee shelters when I heard…well I thought I heard Edelgard."

She couldn't keep Edelgard a secret like a pet in the dormitories, but all the same she wished that she had been granted a moment to rest and take stock of her thoughts. "I was able to take her into custody, yes. She was gravely injured, as I'm sure you can imagine."

His eyebrows shot up. "She is alive? Truly? I thought I was going mad. That would explain the sounds that I heard and why Lysithea seemed almost dead on her feet. Of course, she will have to answer for her crimes but thank you, Professor. She was my rival but also my house leader. Thank you."

The knife twisted in Byleth's chest. His unguarded earnestness, someone thanking her for staying her hand, came closer to undoing her than anything since her awakening.

Ferdinand seemed oblivious. "I heard moans and thrashing. Such things...were not uncommon at school. She attacked Caspar once by accident when he tried to rouse her. Perhaps you might see if Lysithea needs assistance" She does look truly exhausted."

"I can finish up here, Teach. Go put Lysithea to bed."

Byleth nodded curtly and mounted the stairs to the top floor. Edelgard had dreams she couldn't be roused from. Her attack beneath the palace had been frenzied and so unlike her careful precision during the war. Her screams had made Byleth's blood run cold. She had seen such things before. Seasoned soldiers forced to relive their most terrible battles because of a smell or a sound. And given Edelgard's white hair, she could guess what battle the underground laboratory had forced her to relive.

She removed the dagger from her belt. It was well-made, the Kingdom's coat of arms embossed on the handle, but it was too small to be a weapon of war. Edelgard had drawn it against Kostas. Byleth had no idea how the Imperial Princess could have come by it. She had been Byleth's first infatuation and most dangerous enemy, but the last few days had proven that there were many things that she didn't know about Edelgard.

The door was ajar, and Byleth was able to creep in unseen. Lysithea busied herself measuring out a purple concoction. Glyphs hovered in the air, keeping a running count of Edelgard's breaths and heartbeat. Byleth let out a sigh of relief. They were normal for a sleeping, healthy person. Edelgard herself lay askew on the bed. Sweat dampened the sheets. Lysithea or someone had changed Edelgard out of her regalia and into a plain purple robe. She looked smaller, younger. Her hair flew out in every direction. She had thrown the covers back and weakly thrashed at irregular intervals.

"Tell Claude I'm fine," Lysithea said without looking up. "This isn't the worst infirmary duty I've ever had."

"She scared Ferdinand. How is she doing?"

"Well, the wounds you gave her would have killed a normal person three times over, so being able to get out of the palace was more impressive than I thought. Her injuries should heal perfectly in a few days."

"And the screaming he heard?"

"Believe it or not, it's a good sign. It means she might wake up soon." Her voice softened. "The worst thing you can do for someone in the grip of that kind of nightmare is wake them up, but I'll never get used to that screaming."

Is that something you heard from your brothers or sisters or is it your own nightmares? "Get some sleep."

"I'm not a little kid who needs to be told her bedtime."

"No, you're one of the few people we have who can work healing magic. I won't have you dropping from exhaustion." She put a hand on Lysithea's shoulder. "I can watch over her for a little while. Rest."

Lysithea nodded. "If she wakes up, make sure that she drinks this. And Professor? I spent three months in a laboratory like that one. Promise me that Edelgard and I are their last victims." She disappeared down the hallway.

Byleth took her place in the chair at Edelgard's bedside. Edelgard's fists were clenched, her fingers drawn like an eagle's talons, her occasional flinches a dim echo of the terror beneath the palace. "I know it isn't easy," Byleth whispered, "but you need to wake up now. You've got friends waiting for you, and I... I think I'd like walking with you." Her hand hovered over Edelgard. "I won't pretend that you haven't done horrible things, but so have I. We can't hide in our nightmares forever."

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, but her eyes were heavy and it was almost nightfall when Edelgard woke. The emperor blinked rapidly in the fading light and tried to sit up. Her hand went for a dagger in a belt that wasn't there anymore. "Where am I?" Her voice was cracked from disuse. "Professor?"

"Yes, it's me. You're safe." She picked up the concoction. "Drink this. It'll help you feel better."

"So it wasn't a dream." Her face was a mask of stone. "I'm supposed to be dead. Why didn't you kill me?"

It was her anger and madness talking, but it was also a question Byleth was growing increasingly tired of answering. "Because I believe people are generally better off alive than dead. Including you. Now drink, Lady Edelgard."

Shock rendered Edelgard pliant enough that Byleth could hold her up and put the cup to her lips. She made a face as the concoction went down. "Ugh. Are you trying to poison me?" She coughed. "I saw Dorothea. Hubert, Petra...are they dead?"

There was no way to sugarcoat it. "Yes."

She didn't cry as Rhea had. It would have been easier if she had. Her eyes, already dull with illness, became like a dead woman's. "My friends. I'm sorry that I failed you." Her voice was flat. "And you? What do you plan to do with me if not kill me? Chop off my head as a warning to other blasphemers?"

"We can discuss it later. When you're healthy."

"Healthy?" Her breath rattled. "I've lost my empire, my dreams, and my friends all in one day. I don't think I'll ever be healthy again. Tell me now. It's better than dreading the unknown."

"It depends on you." Edelgard looked at her in pained disbelief, and for a brief moment Byleth wished that they had been teacher and student. Maybe then she would have had the right to take her hand and soothe her, the way she sometimes did for Marianne. "I would like for us to be allies. What do you know about the Agarthans?"

Edelgard tried and failed to sit up again. She trembled, but not from weakness. Rage, pure and unvarnished in a way that Byleth had never seen from her before. "If you escorting me under the palace wasn't a waking dream, then you know the important things. They are the monsters who made me what I am. They seek to destroy humanity. I planned to destroy them first."

"Do you know where I can find them?"

"If I knew that, I would have destroyed them long ago instead of taking their table scraps. Do you plan to destroy them now that you've destroyed me?"

And again, vengeance giving someone the strength to keep going. "I seek to free humanity from their influence."

She smiled weakly. "Ah, then our goals really weren't so different. At least I can die happy when you change your mind and kill me. I would like to sleep now."

There was little Byleth could do but nod. Keeping her eyes open was an increasingly losing battle. Maybe she could beg Marianne to take over the watch. Everything would seem better after a good night's slee—"

"Professor? A word?"

Byleth turned on the stairs to find Shamir emerging from the shadows, looking as if she had just come in from scouting. She had been all but a ghost since Fort Merceus, always busy scouting for them but never staying longer than necessary to deliver her reports. Perhaps that was the way she grieved, or perhaps Catherine and Cyril had been all that tethered her to their cause. "I saw Count Bergliez's men retreating. The Regent, Lord Ardunel, was spotted heading towards Hrym. It's possible he intends to continue the fighting."

Wonderful. Caspar had already lost almost everything fighting this war. She would have to have a word in private with him in the morning. "We didn't expect this would be easy."

"I saw something else after we occupied the palace." The barest hint of anger crept into her voice. "You cradling an unconscious emperor. As long as she lives, she's a potential rallying point. I recommend eliminating her."

"No."

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought the Ashen Demon would have agreed with me."

Byleth's own anger rose to meet her. "Don't call me that. And as long as Edelgard doesn't act against us, she's under my protection. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly. Just don't expect me to die for you when your mercy backfires."

Byleth stormed toward her room. When Sothis had merged with her, she had seized her new role less out of piety than the hope that it would allow her to put her past behind her. She was a physician now, a woman who would do everything she could to see Claude's dreams of a world without borders where knowledge reigned supreme. She would like to live in that world, to put her sword down. She closed her eyes. And she wanted to be right about Edelgard. If she could prove an ally, there was hope for anyone in this world and maybe the mercenary that Byleth had been could finally die.

Maybe then her own nightmares of flame and ash would stop.