The city of Enbarr was largely devoid of activity.
Ashton expected it; Ella had said that the city was on lockdown following the news of the battle to the far north. Even then, he was still taken aback by just how dead it looked. Nobody was in the streets save for soldiers and guardsmen. Preparing for full war, he guessed. The city wouldn't stay silent for long, if that was the case.
With every step, they came closer to the palace they had seen in the distance. Its towers and walls overshadowed everything as they got closer, and Ashton felt smaller than ever underneath it.
"Like I said, they're in the middle of their little council," Ella said, stopping in front of the doors and turning to the trio. "My mother's campaigning to strengthen our defenses while there's still time, and your father is trying to do the same. A lot of the nobles are spooked right now, but we all knew this was coming. It probably won't take them long to make a decision."
"If they go out to attack now, either they'll rout them out of Fhirdiad, or it'll be just like the last battle but even bigger," Ashton mumbled, "you said they knew this was coming. How long have they been preparing for this?"
Ella tapped her chin. "For as long as I've been alive, and for as long as my parents have been alive. Many decades. But you can't just arm people and then have nothing for them to stab. Everyone knows the Saints were preparing for something – it's just now we know what. Nemesis and his Elites."
"I saw one of them," Ashton said hollowly, "cutting through people as if they were butter, with that red sword of his. It looked like it was made of bone."
Ella nodded. "Many survivors are reporting seeing something similar."
Ashton pat Roland on the shoulder. "And I saved this dunderhead from charging straight at him."
Turning to Roland with narrowed eyes, Ella crossed her arms. "That was stupid, even for you."
"M-my father demanded I prove myself! My honor demanded I prove myself! It was the only-!"
"We need to go inside," Cethleann stated. "If nothing else can be achieved today, I want to make sure my father will stop his worrying."
"Even with you safe, Lady Cethleann, I doubt that will be the case," Ella chuckled. "I just wanted to make sure you all knew what you were getting into. You, Ashton – I am unsure how they will respond to you, but knowing that you saved the son of a high-ranking noble from death and helped rescue Saint Cethleann, they will at least listen to what you have to say. I only hope that the other nobles are in a charitable mood."
Ashton's eyes narrowed. "You're making it seem like I'm going on trial."
Ella shrugged. "Not formally, no. They technically have nothing to put you on trial for. But those nobles, they're angry, you know? They do everything to curry favor with the Saints, and then here comes this foreigner, out of nowhere, who does everything they wish they could have done and more."
Ashton sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Stupid medieval fantasy world. Why couldn't I have ended up in Middle-earth instead?"
"'Middle-earth'?" Cethleann repeated, blinking before smiling. "Ah! Is that where you're from?"
"I wish," Ashton replied, trying not to smile at her sincerity.
"Alright, enough waiting," Ella said, clapping her hands. "Let's go before they wind themselves up even more."
Ashton turned to Roland, his brows furrowed and a deep frown on his face. When Roland gave him a small nod, Ashton followed Ella into the palace. Cethleann and Roland were right behind him.
The grand hall of the palace was decorated, with silver statues along the walls depicting tall armored figures, either pointing towards the sky, or knelt. Around a large, wooden double set of doors laid four statues in particular that caught his eye. One was unmistakably Cethleann, standing right next to a man Ashton assumed was her father, Cichol. The other two could have been Macuil and Indech respectively, but he couldn't tell which was which. One held a bow and the other held a sword with a broad, non-pointed tip. Their dress was extremely ceremonial, mostly consisting of flashy, flowing robes with what seemed to be armor strapped on here and there.
Clearly more for showing off than actually depicting the Saints in any realistic way, but judging by how the statue of Cethleann matched the girl behind him, Ashton wouldn't be surprised if the faces were right, at least. Cethleann caught him staring at her, with his gaze switching from her statue to her, and she blushed in embarrassment.
"T-they thought it would be appropriate," Cethleann stammered. "Improve morale among the nobility, knowing their Saints are always watching over them. I do not believe in it myself, but perhaps there is some truth to it."
Ashton smirked and kept moving.
Before long, they were at the doors, and Ashton could hear shouting from within. Over a dozen voices tried to speak over each other, but beyond a vague number, he couldn't say anything else definite. He felt his palms begin to sweat, and he realized that his hands were locked into fists. Deliberately relaxing himself, he let out a deep breath. Ella gave a nod to guards on either side, and without saying a word they opened the doors into the grand council chamber.
An explosion of voices followed, only to be suddenly silenced as he and the rest moved forward.
"My Lords and Ladies!" Ella shouted, holding her arms out as she walked forward. Before long, she stood in the center of the room, with over a dozen nobles looking down on her, and the Saints above. "Apologies for interrupting your argument, but I bring good news!"
Ashton looked around the room and immediately noticed Roland's father sitting nearby. His orange eyes widened upon seeing his son, but he schooled his expression nearly instantly. He didn't recognize any of the other nobles in the room, except for perhaps Ella's mother, sitting opposite of Roland's father. When he looked up, he saw five people standing on raised podiums, all looking down on him.
He was able to recognize them from the statues. Cichol wore a similar robe to what the statue depicted, but otherwise, he looked like an ordinary, if handsome, man. If it wasn't for the green hair and eyes that he shared with the other Saints, Ashton wouldn't have noticed that he was any different from anyone else.
The other two, flanking the main podium were who Ashton assumed were Indech and Macuil. Again, he couldn't tell which was which, but their facial expressions differed so greatly that once he learned their names, he would never be able to forget them. One wore a hat that reminded him of something out of a drawing from Dungeons and Dragons – not that he ever played it, but he had seen the pictures. The other wore an open-faced helmet. The one with the hat looked down on them with a furrowed brow and crossed arms, while another raised a brow and leaned forward.
The last two, however, were the most interesting. The one below them all but the farthest forward was a tall man with brown hair and, unlike the rest of the soldiers he had met, wore light plate armor that shined in the sunlight coming from nearby stained-glass windows. His hand was on his podium, mouth open as if wanting to say something, yet nothing came forth. The last person was a tall woman, standing on a podium that overlooked all in the room. Greenish-blonde hair trailed down her back, and her head was adorned with a draconic circlet. She was dressed in ceremonial white robes accented with gold. Her eyes, however, were the most striking part. Even from a distance, he could feel her staring at him. It was as if she was staring into his soul.
Ashton felt a shiver run up his spine at that, but he let Ella do the talking for the moment. He didn't want to do anything that could get him in trouble.
I really do feel like I'm on trial right now.
"Saint Cethleann has been returned to us!" Ella proclaimed, holding out her arms as Cethleann stepped forward, fidgeting in place. "The sacrifice of our soldiers in the Battle of Fhirdiad was not in vain! These two men snuck behind enemy lines, and saved one of our patrons!"
Ashton suddenly felt all eyes on him and Roland. He could see his noble friend weathering it enough; he barely budged an inch. Meanwhile, Ashton felt as if he would melt on the spot. When he was in the stadium back in high school, he felt something similar to it, but it was always drowned out by adrenaline and movement. In that room, if anything the adrenaline that unceasingly coursed through his veins made everything so much harder to ignore.
Cichol looked as if he was about to jump off his podium and rush across the room; his hand gripped the side of his podium so hard he looked as if he would snap them in half, almost like he was trying to anchor himself so that he didn't make a scene in the Council Hall.
The man below them all held his hand out and beckoned Roland and Ashton.
"Step forward, you two," he said, his voice deep and baritone. "Tell us, all of us, what happened on that battlefield. Know already that you have our sincere gratitude for what you have done, but we want to know how."
Ashton and Roland exchanged glances, only for Roland to move forward first, with Ashton just behind. Ashton tried not to look around like a scared rabbit in the middle of a pack of wolves, but it didn't feel like he was successful.
"Before we do that, My Emperor," Roland said, bowing as Ella gave Ashton a thumbs-up and backed off, "I would give you our names. I am Roland von Aegir, heir to the Aegir territories. And this man beside me is known as Ashton."
"U-uh, Ashton Wright," Ashton stammered out, before hardening his features and bowing just as Roland had. "My name is Ashton Wright, at your service."
When he looked up again, he saw that nobody's expression had changed. Ashton couldn't tell if that was a good or a bad sign. At least Roland was smiling as he gave Ashton a quick nod.
"I know that my father and his allies must have already given you a report on what happened to the far north," Roland continued, placing his hands behind his back and standing tall. "Even then, I must stress the gravity of the situation: the forces we fought in Fhirdiad were Nemesis and any allies he has gathered since we were first warned about him by Saint Seiros."
Ashton looked up at Seiros then, and he nearly took a step back at what he saw. Her face, for the briefest of moments, turned into the most hateful scowl he had ever seen. It wasn't directed at them, at least. That much he could tell, but Ashton could still feel his blood run cold at the faint glimpse he received.
"My soldiers were crushed," Roland said, looking down. "Our forces were routed when Ashton saved me from a suicidal charge against one of the Elites themselves. We infiltrated their ranks and saved Saint Cethleann from the castle dungeons. After that, we made our way to Enbarr as fast as we could."
"It was that easy?" one of the Saint's asked, the one with the hat. "So I suppose the Kingdom barbarians just let you run amok in their new stronghold, completely without escort or suspicion? These are the same people who stormed that city and took control of it in less than a fortnight, correct?"
"I cannot speak for the enemy's intentions," Roland said, his voice almost sounding rehearsed as his face betrayed no emotion. "But what I can speak for is our success. Whatever they were planning, it failed."
"Unless they wanted you to succeed," the Saint replied, tapping a finger against his podium. "Perhaps their goal was to follow you, or maybe they wanted to see how far you would go. Or, they wanted you to succeed for the sake of it. So that Cethleann could live to survive another day, so that she may return to us and warn us of the coming storm."
"What does it matter, old friend?" the Saint beside him asked. "Macuil, if I didn't know any better, I would think you are simply looking for reasons to be angry."
"I will stop being angry when there is nothing to be angry about," Macuil uttered, barely audible as the tapping stopped.
"Regardless of the enemy's intentions, Cethleann is safe with us once more," the Emperor stated as he pushed himself away from the podium. "And with her return, we now truly know of what we face. Your warnings have not gone unheard, Lady Seiros."
Seiros, who had hitherto been silently observing everyone else, finally spoke. Ashton didn't know what he expected, but the commanding voice he heard sent shivers up his spine.
"Indeed, Wilhelm. My warnings have not gone unheard," she said, pushing herself away from her podium. She stepped backward and continued down, moving around the rest as she made her way forward. "Nemesis has come, and he and his Elites have already sundered one of our cities. He will not stop until the world runs red with blood. His kind and all who follow him will wreak a path of destruction so far, even the Goddess herself will be able to see it from her throne above."
Almost everyone in the room was in attention. Ashton looked around to see them all standing up, their arms behind their backs as they stood tall. It was almost like it was a formal pose. After a moment, Ashton stood just like they did. He also didn't miss the way Seiros' eyes looked at him the entire time.
Goddamn, it feels like she's going to stab me for that.
Ashton couldn't tell if that was truly the case or not, but he could hear his heart pounding in his ears all the same.
"I have prepared you, the Adrestian Empire, for as long as most of you have been alive," Seiros continued, holding her hands out to her sides. "I have been blessed with a longer life so that I might guide you towards this path. You are to be a bulwark against Nemesis' onslaught, a shining beacon of hope for the darkness that enshrouds this continent."
Ashton heard what sounded like a prayer in a language he couldn't understand before the nobles sat back down. Meanwhile, Seiros' gaze was squarely on him and Roland.
"You have done us a great service on this day. I will send for you before the day is over. Until then, I call for this meeting to be adjourned."
Ashton slammed his back against the wall and slid down it as he ran a hand down his face, trying to catch his breath.
"I do not know why you are acting as if you have done something wrong," Roland said in front of him, and Ashton could see that his arms were crossed.
"I could feel all their eyes on me," Ashton whispered.
Ashton couldn't see him well, but he swore he saw Roland roll his eyes. "And you performed admirably. I am the one who did most of the speaking. They know the role you played in Saint Cethleann's rescue, and all without you having to utter more than a sentence."
"They called me an Easterling again," Ashton replied weakly, rubbing his eyes.
"And I did not?" Roland said in a challenging manner."It is not a dangerous assumption to make, my friend; your skin tone, your hair, even your eyes match that of the eastern tribes across the Throat. Perhaps a bit paler than usual, but that could be attributed to a prolonged stay here."
"I haven't been here for more than a few weeks, Roland," Ashton said, rubbing his eyes again.
"I know. What was it you say you were? American?" Roland asked.
"Yeah. American." Ashton brought himself back up to his feet. "I'm American. From the United States of America. My dad's from there but my mom, uh, wasn't."
"So you were a foreigner, even there?" Roland's eyes softened.
"Not really," Ashton replied, rubbing his shoulders. "Almost everyone is a foreigner in the U.S. It's kinda the nature of the place, you know? A melting pot. Can we, uh, stop talking about this? It's making me homesick."
Roland nodded. "I only wanted to get your mind off of what just happened, but I can see how the thought of your homeland could be painful."
"I wonder how my dad's doing a lot," Ashton said, rubbing his temples. "Knowing him, he's probably… I don't even wanna know."
Roland muttered something under his breath. Ashton looked up.
"Say something?"
Roland shook his head. "No. Anyway, I am sure the Saints will summon us soon, if not me, then at least you. And when that happens, you will be able to explain your situation to them. I know for certain that they will hear you out, especially after what you have done."
"It still doesn't feel like I've done much," Ashton muttered.
"Then you haven't been paying attention to what you have been doing," Roland replied with a swish of his hand. "No doubt I also played a heavy part in saving Cethleann, but if not for your quick thinking, I would have found my end on that battlefield."
"Honestly speaking, Roland? I think you would have found a way out of that situation. Maybe he would have only wounded you, or maybe he would've cut down your horse and not you. Who knows what would have happened if I wasn't there? Maybe it would've been better off," Ashton muttered.
"There is no way to know for certain, is there?" Roland asked, "and until we can travel through time, we will never know. Therefore, I will continue to believe in what I believe."
Ashton snorted. "You have a funny way with words, Roland. You know that?"
"I have been taught by some of the Empire's greatest orators. Of course I have a way with words," Roland declared proudly, the smug look on his face making Ashton laugh.
"Whatever you say," Ashton said before looking to the side and seeing Ella approach them.
Ella's expression was caught somewhere between worry and excitement; a furrowed brow but friendly smile adorned her face. The hallway they were in was just outside of the main hall, away from prying eyes, but someone must have seen them enter if she found them.
"The time's come, Ashton," Ella announced ."They want to see you."
"Yeah, they want to see the 'Easterling' who helped this lunk around, right?" Ashton asked.
"Not their exact words, but I don't imagine they have armed guards outside of a chamber just for show," Ella replied with a small laugh. "I wouldn't take it personally, friend. The fact that the Saints want to meet with you at all means they don't think of you as a threat. I don't know much about your story, but maybe they can help you out."
"I hope so," Ashton said, sighing.
Ashton stood outside the chamber doors alone.
His heart thumped loudly in his ears, drowning out nearly all noise. The guards on either side of the doors didn't even spare him a glance since he had arrived, and even then, it was only a wary gaze. He didn't feel like he was being judged by them, but their presence didn't make him feel any surer of himself.
I need to go in there eventually.
After a few more moments, Ashton took a deep breath and opened the doors. He didn't know what he expected to find on the other side.
It was a smaller room than the Council Hall, with only a curved table at one end with five chairs, all occupied. On the other side, nearest the door, was another chair with a desk facing the curved table. It was like Ashton was looking at a smaller version of a courtroom, except there was no room for a defense attorney. A small window to the right gave the only illumination available besides a few oil lanterns on the walls.
"Ah, and there he is, the silent Easterling."
Ashton had to bite back a comment at that. No use getting worked up over it. He had an inkling as to who said it, though.
"Uncle, he is not an Easterling!" Cethleann said, placing both her hands on the crescent table and standing up. "I believe I spoke at length as to his origins!"
"So you have," Macuil stated, tapping his fingers against the wooden table. "Yet, I find his explanation to be unlikely."
"Stranger events have happened," the one Ashton assumed was Indech said.
"He and the son of Duke Aegir saved my daughter," Cichol said quietly. "That is all that matters to me. It would be remiss not to hear him out."
"Indeed," Seiros said, her voice silencing the rest. "Come, young one. Have a seat."
Ashton took another deep breath before stepping forward into the room completely. He could feel all their eyes on them as he took a seat in front of them.
"Cethleann has told us much of your circumstances," Seiros said, leaning forward in her chair. "That you are not an Easterling, as many would surmise based on your appearance, but something else entirely. You are man from nowhere, from a place nobody has heard of. And you do not know how you came to be here."
Ashton's lips thinned as he nodded. "Yes."
"Tell me what happened," Seiros pressed. "I know you did not tell Cethleann that much, or she has revealed it to us."
Ashton looked from left to right, feeling every single gaze from each Saint piercing straight into his soul. He let out a shuddering breath.
"There's not much more to tell," Ashton admitted. "I am from a place called the United States of America. I was attending a funeral before I came here, for my two cousins. Most of them closed down because of… well, because of something called COVID. A disease. I never paid attention to that part though. I used to have a mask before it was confiscated."
"Are you infected?" Macuil asked.
Ashton shook his head. "No."
"I would rather not an outbreak of this disease to spread through the Empire at such a critical time," Macuil muttered, turning to the other Saints for a moment.
Seiros exchanged glances with each Saint before turning back to Ashton. "Continue."
Ashton nodded. "I'm not infected, so you don't need to worry about it. Besides, that funeral is more important. I was leaving it when I – I don't know how to explain it. Honest. One minute I was walking out, and in the next I was in the middle of a tent during a strategy meeting. That was just a few days before they tried to retake Fhirdiad."
"It is a good thing that did not happen during one of Macuil's exercises," Indech said, turning to Macuil beside him and smirking. "He would have skinned you alive."
Macuil scoffed but said nothing.
Ashton shrugged. "That's it, really. I don't have an explanation for it, but I'm hoping you do. I know it's very farfetched, but it's the truth; you can ask Duke Aegir and his allies. They'll probably tell you the same thing."
After a few moments, the Saints began whispering among themselves. Ashton could only make out the odd word from them, such as 'truth' or 'liar', the latter of which made his stomach drop. The only one who stayed silent the entire time was Seiros. She simply stared at him the entire time, unblinking. Her mint-green eyes were pretty, he had to admit, but that meant little what with the chills her stare gave him.
When they were done muttering among themselves, Cichol was the one who spoke up.
"As strange and unlikely as your story is, I believe you. You are an extreme unknown quantity, but in my years I have seen stranger things," he said.
"I still say that you are a poor liar," Macuil interjected. "However, as I am outnumbered in what we should do with you, I will move forward under the assumption that you are telling the truth – if only because I have not heard of any magic that can silently teleport someone around. Warp spells are noisy and conspicuous. I will need to speak to Duke Aegir before the day is done."
"Cichol's right," Indech said, a small smile on his face. "Stranger events have taken place in this land. I only wonder what manner of power could bring you to our shores, and at such an opportune time."
Ashton's lips thinned as he looked away. "I guess that means you don't know, then."
Cethleann avoided his gaze as Indech spoke again. "Macuil is being his usual dour self, but he speaks the truth; we have not heard of any magic that can transport people across dimensions, and if there is, we cannot control it. Ah, a frightening thought."
Frowning, Ashton continued, "Then what am I supposed to do? I don't have anything here. I've made a few friends but nothing substantial."
"You somehow beguiled the son of a noble," Macuil scoffed, "and you call it 'nothing substantial'. Perhaps you were a jester in your previous life."
Ashton bit back a curse again.
"I wonder," Seiros said, finally, "was it fate that led you here? Or was it the Goddess herself, beckoning you to her old kingdom?"
"You cannot be serious," Macuil stated, his voice deadpan.
"I will not imply that every unexplainable event is her doing," Seiros continued. "The Goddess has only spoken to me occasionally, and only when her will is to be done. I am her Prophet, but even my reach can extend only so far. It is only one explanation, but it is the only one I can surmise based on what you have told us."
"I…" Ashton sighed, rubbing his temples. "I don't mean to be disrespectful with what I'm about to say. Really, I'm not. But I don't even know what your religion is. Back home, my family were Christian; we followed a book called the Bible, and we believed in one God, not a Goddess. We didn't follow your Goddess, so why would she see fit to transport me here? And for what purpose?"
Seiros' eyes narrowed only slightly, and Ashton hoped it was only because she was thinking, and not getting angry.
"Supposing that it was her," Seiros said, "then it would mean she has a plan far greater than even I can see. No doubt it is linked to us, but until such a day when it becomes readily apparent, I believe I have a plan for you."
Ashton blinked confusedly but leaned forward in attention.
Seiros placed both her hands on the table and laced them together. "There is a priory just outside of Enbarr. It is a small thing, barely noticeable by all counts, but I believe it would be the perfect place for you to live until we have either found a way for you to return to your world, or until we realize why you are here, and what your purpose is."
Ashton swallowed. "So, I'm…"
"I believe that this is the best course of action available to you," Seiros pressed, her eyes piercing. "The Free Kingdom will not help you, nor do I think they would have the capability, even if they wanted to. Given enough time, perhaps we can. You have a choice, and I pray you choose rightly."
Ashton didn't miss what, exactly, Seiros was insinuating. In the end, however, he didn't really have much of a choice. They really were his best shot at getting home. If it meant he had to stomach a few religious texts, then he would gladly do it.
"Alright," Ashton sighed, rubbing his forehead before looking up completely. "I'll do it."
Ashton noticed Seiros smile, and he couldn't tell if it was beautiful or terrifying.
The only good thing about losing everything he owned was that Ashton didn't need to pack much at all before he was escorted to the priory. Of course, he'd much rather have everything, but he was training himself to look at the silver lining. It wouldn't help to be so negative all the time.
Ashton did have one question, though.
"Why is it that you're the one who is always escorting me?" he asked as the sun set below the horizon, casting an orange glow on the verdant fields and walls that lined the path they were on. "I want to think you have more important things to do than escort me around."
Ella threw back her head and laughed before turning around and walked backwards for a few steps. "You would be surprised! I actually revel in this! Guarding walls all day and making sure the guardsmen aren't asleep at their job gets really stale after a while."
Ashton raised a brow. "Uh huh. And they don't need you there right now?"
"I made sure that I wouldn't be missed. I have plenty of subordinates who can manage it for a while in my stead. If I didn't, I wouldn't get any sleep at all," Ella replied, turning back around.
"I'd hope so," Ashton said. "So that's it, then? You just wanted to walk around a bit?"
Ella chuckled lightly. "Well, yeah. I've grown bored of stuffy meetings and old men and women shambling about like revenants. Seeing a nice, quiet priory out here would be nice."
"It'll be my new life for the foreseeable future," Ashton grumbled. "I really hope it's nice."
"Well, considering it's right there, why don't you judge it now?"
Ashton looked up to see a series of buildings, just to the side of the main path. They weren't as well-made as those inside the city walls; the ones Ashton was looking at appeared to be mostly made out of wood rather than stone, with thatched roofs and glassless windows. There were five buildings in total, surrounded on both sides by small, chest high walls. All in all, it looked rather cozy.
"Well, then, guess this is where we'll part ways for a while," Ella said, her arms on her hips. "Go on. I'm sure Roland will find the time to see how you're doing in a little while, and if the Saints have some information that can help you get home, I'll pass it on. See you later!"
Once Ella left, Ashton was left alone, looking down at what would be his home for who knew how long.
Daylight's wasting. I better introduce myself.
After taking a deep breath, Ashton moved forward.
I guess this is the the end of the beginning. Of the Flachback Arc, that is. Don't worry, we won't be here for too long. At most, I imagine 15 Chapters more. This fic will spend a majority of its wordcount in the present, and maybe we'll even have an intermission chapter with Byleth, Seteth, and Ashton in the present. I'm sure Byleth in particular will have a few questions, lol.
Anyway, here's a link to our Discord: discord .gg/9XG3U7a
Thanks to Stormtide_Leviathan for being my beta, as always!
See you guys next week, hopefully!