AN: Tana's pegasus is canonically named Achaeus. I have no clue how I missed that since I specifically looked it up to check, but there you go. Chapter 2 has been corrected with the proper name.


Chapter 3: Vergissmeinnicht


For here the lover and killer are mingled

Who had one body and one heart

And Death who had the soldier singled

Has done the lover mortal hurt


If he felt this debilitated after one sleepless night, Kiran wondered how long it would be before he flat out collapsed from exhaustion. Something as simple as walking down his tower steps required concentrated focus, lest he lose his sluggish footing and take a nasty fall. Even if they shared his drooping eyes, at least Tana and Maria didn't live in the highest point of the castle.

The thought of the two girls he'd spent the witching hour with put a small bit of life back into his step. Their time spent nibbling on chocolate was like an island of placidity amidst the chaotic storm his life had recently turned into. It wasn't all bonding and relaxation though; reluctantly, he'd had to dole out to a punishment to Maria for her disobedience of direct orders. He decided on two weeks confined to the interior of the castle, which meant no excursions with Haar or watching the training regimen. She accepted the sanction with little fuss, merely giving a glum nod of her head to show that she understood. Honestly, Kiran would rather she have made some kind of token protest – seeing the formerly obstinate princess so sobered by the trauma she went through weighed heavily on his heart.

At this point though, there was little more he could do other than offer support and wait. Every scar, physical or mental, took time to heal, no matter how deep it ran. The same rang true for Tana; he'd done the best he could considering his total lack of experience, and that would just have to be enough for the time being.

He'd elected to override his chambermaid's morning ritual and left his chambers much earlier than usual, hoping to beat most of the group to breakfast. It wasn't like staring at the ceiling for another thirty minutes would've done any good, and he didn't like the idea of having a full table's attention on his drained state. Besides, he knew full well what would be asked of him after his command saved them from disaster at the fort and how weak his defiance of the request would now look. It was for the best if he got used to being up early like a good leader should, no matter how much the thought made him want to put a gun to his head.

At last, he finished his descent and made for the mess hall. This time, there was no muffled weeping coming from the doors, so he simply opened them and went inside. As he'd hoped, the hall was nearly empty, save a sole occupant who gave a silent tilt of her head in greeting as he entered. It didn't surprise him that much to see Ayra up earlier than everyone else, dutifully wiping an oiled rag along her blade while she waited, and he rather appreciated her taciturn nature at the moment. Without a word, he ambled over to sit across from her and rest his head in his good arm, lazily drawing meaningless patterns in the wood with his other hand to pass the time.

"…It'll get easier." She assured him unprompted. The supporting words weren't delivered without some stiffness, which was to be expected given what he knew of Ayra's character. He raised his head to meet her gaze, finding her eyes thawed from their usual icy glint. He allowed a small smile to form from his lips and gave her a brief nod to show the minor condolence was appreciated.

There was no further breach of the comfortable silence between them until the mess hall doors swung open once again, this time revealing Clive behind them. He seemed to have his own share of fatigue, given he only exchanged a polite but brief greeting before joining Kiran at the table. As the sun slowly rose above the horizon, they were joined one by one by the other members of their company. Some clearly dealt with the weariness better than others – Sharena hailed them with more or less the same cheer as always – but there was an unmistakable drained feeling in the air.

Tana in particular was obviously carrying the weight of what she did as she walked in with heavy steps and slumped shoulders. Upon meeting Kiran's eyes however, she perked up a bit and let a gentle grin grace her sullen features. Maria looked better than he thought she would; though she was obviously tired, her eyes weren't as bloodshot and puffy as they'd been during the witching hour. Nino actually looked to be in better shape than most of them – an observation that left Kiran conflicted. He was torn between relief she wasn't under as much strain as Maria and grief that she'd been desensitized to this kind of work years ago.

Eventually, as the hall was aglow in soft orange light, Haar joined them and filled the final vacancy in the group. For a few minutes, nobody disturbed the reticence over the table, but it wasn't long before Alfonse found his voice.

"…I understand we may not be at our best at the moment given the late and strenuous nature of what we did last night. Nevertheless," he cast his gaze over everyone, "I have never been prouder nor more honored to fight alongside another as I am with you all. This very well have been the first initiative Askr has ever taken in this war, and we have your skill and the faith you've placed in us to thank for our overwhelming success."

Alfonse's gratitude lifted the mood somewhat, and Clive took the chance to offer his own thoughts. "I cannot speak for the whole, but I for one echo your sentiments in full, Prince Alfonse. It is a privilege to draw steel with such noble company, who with our combined strength returned from a dangerous undertaking with absolute victory and naught but the most minor of wounds."

"And hey, we can't forget who kept the ship sailing so smoothly!" Sharena piped up, turning to look directly at Kiran. "If Kiran hadn't taken charge when he did, there's no telling how things might've gone. You really saved our necks!" Thanks to Sharen once again making him the focus of the conversation, he now had everyone's focused attention; at least half of them were pre-emptively wincing in anticipation of another angry refutation.

However, no such outburst came. Kiran only stared lamely at his limp hand resting on the table. "Yeah," he quietly conceded, "I guess I did." His sober acquiescence had mixed receptions – as glad as Alfonse and Anna were to not get yelled at again, Kiran's subdued reaction was undeniably out of character and cause for concern. Still, the Askran prince wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. After a brief pause, he cleared his throat to address the summoner.

"Well, it's a welcome change of pace to have your agreement on these matters. Given your imperative role in last night's undertaking…perhaps you would be willing to reconsider the prerogative of your role here?"

Kiran sighed and sunk his head further at Alfonse's question. "Damn it, I knew you were going to ask that." With a defeated look in his eye, he raised his head back up to look at who had been his two biggest detractors just a week prior. "What do you two think? You weren't all that keen on the idea when it was first brought up."

"You're no longer a stranger and you proved yourself last night." Ayra quickly answered with her usual bluntness. "I have no objections."

Haar, true to form, was slower to respond, electing to idly scratch the back of his head while he gathered his thoughts. "Well, you still haven't actually fought anyone, but seeing as how it was your plan that really racked up the body count, I can't say I have anything to complain about."

Their approval earned a muffled groan as Kiran dragged his hands through his hair, both elbows resting on the table. "I want you to remember," he spoke again, his head slightly turned back to Alfonse and Anna, "that no matter what happens and no matter how south things might go, this was never my idea."

"Then, does that mean…?" Anna cautiously probed.

"Yeah, I'll be the tactician or whatever." He accepted with obvious resignation. "But you better have plenty of books on this in that library, because making stuff up on the spot has not been my idea of fun."

"Splendid!" Anna and the other Askrans were clearly elated to see their Great Hero accept more responsibility. "You needn't worry about a dearth of knowledge; we've countless tomes on strategy on the shelves."

The servant staff chose that moment to emerge from the kitchens to provide their breakfast: biscuits and rolls of bread with jam. In general, their meals had become increasingly banal since that initial turkey the first day of summoning. Askr was at war after all, which meant food needed to be functional and utilitarian, especially since there would only be more mouths to feed the more he summoned. Oddly enough, they also deposited a brown jar next to Sharena, though he was in no mood to ask why.

"Have no fear, Kiran." Tana offered the initial assurances once the servants made their exit. "I've no doubt you will do a marvelous job."

"Yeah, you've been great so far!" Nino put her own two cents forward. "And you're only going to get better once you start studying!" Her words were uplifting, but he could detect an undercurrent of disappointment in her voice. It only took a moment for him to realize that if he was hitting the books himself, it was only natural that would leave him less time to teach Nino.

"Sure, I'll probably improve before long," he agreed, "just like you're going to keep improving from my lessons." He hit the nail right on the head, as Nino's eyes widened in surprise. Before she could voice a protest, he kept going. "I promised to help you become literate, Nino, and I intend to keep that promise."

Alfonse, at least, was harboring doubts. "Kiran, are you truly sure about this? You will be much busier in the near future, so much so that I imagine free time will become few and far between." The last time he'd hazarded that question, it had been met with mocking derision. Now, however, Kiran had to admit he had a point, but he was adamant on his decision.

"A promise isn't worth anything if you let yourself break it the moment something else comes up. If problems start manifesting, then I'll find some way to make it work. Besides," for the first time that morning, a ghost of a smile formed on Kiran's lips, "I've always been good at making time." That called to mind memories he never imagined he'd think of fondly, of late nights spent cramming for exams or doing whole homework assignments a few hours before they were due. No one had ever approved of his methods, but his results had been successful enough that they couldn't complain.

Of course, a mistake here meant a dead comrade instead of just a bad grade.

"Anyway," he shifted the subject, for his own troubling thoughts if nothing else, "is this a promotion I have to sign a document for or what? I'm officially part of the Askran military now, right?" Then, he considered the implications of everyone else there fighting for Askr and rectified his question. "Actually, what is our role in the military? We're a little too out of the ordinary to be filed away as 'E Company' along with the other common foot soldiers."

Clearly, he was the first to think of this, since nobody in the group remotely knew how to answer him. "I…hadn't really thought of that before." Anna admitted, a thoughtful look on her face. "You're right, there's far too many unique skillsets here for any of the usual classifications to suffice. And it's only going to get stranger the more you summon…"

"We need a name!" Sharena suddenly announced, her eyes excitedly beaming. "A title, something to show that we're the new hope that'll turn things around in the war! Something that'll inspire and raise the morale of every Askran who hears it!"

Alfonse had looked ready to chide his little sister on her frivolous idea, but the mention of potential morale effects had him ready to indulge the thought. "Well, all assembled here, present or future, were brought forth by the Great Hero with the sacred relic." When he mentioned Kiran's title, Sharena looked like she was hit with a bolt of inspiration.

"That's it, Alfonse! We call Kiran a hero, but he's not the only one!" She made a sweeping gesture around the table. "Everyone here has selflessly volunteered to put their lives on the line. If that isn't heroic, I don't know what is. As far as I'm concerned, you're all heroes!"

Sharena's praise hit home, as everyone was immediately beaming with some manner of pride. Even Ayra, the last one he thought would care about compliments, had slightly puffed out her chest. "Wow," Maria began, an incredulous smile on her lips, "I never thought I'd be called a hero for anything…"

"You are too kind, Princess Sharena." Virion offered. "All the same, rest assured that such flattery is not idly forgotten."

"Alright, so everyone in the group is a hero." Kiran cut in. "So, the title should be what exactly? 'United Heroes'? 'League of Heroes'?"

"Hmmm, I like the sound of that last one, but 'league' isn't really the right word." Anna replied. "I feel like it makes us sound a bit too disparate; merchant leagues work together, but everyone is still ultimately out for their own self-interest." Kiran wanted to point out that some of them were there for purely personal reasons but understood that would only undermine the whole purpose of the discussion. It was a moot point anyway, as Anna soon snapped her finger with a triumphant grin. "I've got it! We'll be the 'Order of Heroes'!"

Her suggestion went over well, with all of them satisfyingly nodding their heads in approval. Alfonse was the one to give voice to their approval. "That's perfect. In every way, the word 'order' embodies unity, harmony and trust. Those are the principles for which we take up arms, so it is only fitting that be the standard under which we fight."

"I'm sure newly summoned heroes will find it stirring to be welcomed as such." Kaze mused. "Sir Virion had a fair point about the impact flattery can have."

"Speaking of which," Kiran interrupted, finishing a roll and rising to his feet, "I'd say it's about that time. Got to strike while the iron is hot, you know?"

"That we must." Alfonse agreed and likewise stood up. "There's little need for all of you to be present at the shrine; I imagine you'd rather make use of your time training anyway. Although, Princess Maria has yet to see anyone summoned, so perhaps she'd like to accompany us?"

The suggestion made Kiran wince and Maria shamefully duck her head – he'd hoped to inform the Askrans of her punishment in a less public setting, but now Alfonse had forced his hand. "Yeah, about that," he interrupted, "I had a chance earlier to talk to Maria about her…insubordination in following us. If it's alright with you, I decided keeping her restricted to the castle interior for two weeks would be a sufficient punishment."

The prince looked surprised that Kiran had even bothered to go to the trouble. "Truthfully, I hadn't considered penalizing Princess Maria for her actions." After a moment of consideration, his surprise gave way to thoughtfulness. "Though, considering she did disobey direct orders…yes, I suppose some means of discipline is in order. And a confinement to the castle is in line with the nature of her infraction, so I agree that's an ample measure."

Sharena, being the more empathetic of the royal siblings, was more aggrieved by the sentence, though she clearly understood its necessity enough to not belittle the point. "Sorry, Princess Maria." She tenderly consoled the girl in question. "I'm sure two weeks will fly by in no time!"

The Macedonian princess gave her Askran counterpart a weak, but appreciative smile. "Thank you, Princess Sharena, but don't worry about me – I'm strong enough to take my punishment. After all, I spent a lot more than two weeks in Castle Deil's dungeons!" She put up a brave front, but her voice wavered when speaking of her recent past. Haar, sitting adjacent to her, gently rested his hand on her shoulder in a conciliatory gesture.

"Alright, we need to get a move on." Kiran interjected. "When we come back with the five new heroes in tow, how do you guys feel about meeting them out in the courtyard? I mean, I wouldn't drag everyone out for every new batch, but this one time there'll be a relative parity in the group sizes, so I feel like we might as well. And hey," he idly shrugged his shoulders, "maybe I'll summon an old friend of someone's this time around."

Their voices all rang out in mild-mannered agreement, so Kiran began making for the exit after giving them a wave goodbye. Unfortunately, he didn't get far before Sharena called to him. "Oh, hold on, Kiran! There's one more thing you need to do before we leave."

"What is it now?" he impatiently asked, his tiredness exacerbating his annoyance.

He wasn't sure what to think when she skipped up to him with the brown jar left by the servants in her hands. "You have to take your medicine! This vulnerary should help speed up the healing of that cut on your arm. It's not completely magical, so it ought to help at least a little bit."

Somewhat befuddled, he took the jar from her. "Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing 'vulneraries' brought up a couple times here and there. So, am I supposed to drink it or what?" At her confirming nod (which looked an awful lot like it was trying to hide a barely contained snicker), he gave a shrug and brought the edge of the jar to his mouth.

He managed to swallow the first mouthful on instinct but ripped the jar away and started coughing and gagging the first second he could. "Ugh, what the hell?! It tastes like grape cough syrup!" Bewildered, he turned his attention to the rest of the Order, only to find most of them chuckling and giggling at his expense.

Clive was the first to reign in his sniggers and placate the increasingly irate summoner. "Please, forgive our collective mirth; few are ever prepared for the particular flavor of a vulnerary and their reactions never fail to amuse. Rest assured, it is a genuine form of medicine, so as repulsive as the thought may be, it behooves you drink a bit more."

Kiran grimaced as he stared at the swirling fluid in its earthen container. Clive was right – it did repulse him to think about swallowing even one more drop. His hesitation was readily apparent, so Anna set about getting a move on. "Yeah, I know it tastes like pegasus dung, but it doesn't take much for it to take effect. You only need to drink about two or three more mouthfuls, and we can be off. And when you're done," she lifted up her goblet, still nearly full of water, "I've got just what you need to rinse the taste out of your mouth."

He wasn't particularly happy about chugging any more of the foul fluid, but he also wasn't petty or stupid enough to refuse medicine because of its awful taste. With a disgusted sigh, he brought the jar back to his lips and forced himself to swallow the appropriate amount. He couldn't hold back another gag as he withdrew the vulnerary from his mouth and held out his hand to Anna. "Dammit, Anna, just hand over the cup!" She quickly did so with an amused grin, enabling Kiran to at least somewhat wash out the vile aftertaste.

When he was finished, he let out a disgruntled groan and scowled at the still enlivened Askrans. "Please, for the love of God, tell me I won't have to do that regularly."

"Don't worry, you shouldn't need any more doses for an injury that minor." Alfonse assured him. "I believe we've lingered long enough – shall we be off?"

"It's about time…" Kiran sourly grumbled. "See the rest of you guys in a couple hours." With that bid farewell, the Askrans and their Great Hero departed once again for the summoning shrine.


Using only his short-term impressions, Kiran wasn't sure if the second summoned group was better than the first. There were two less of them, true, but there also wasn't anyone like Maria in the ensemble to lower the average quality. Though, he thought Ninian did come pretty close. She wasn't a little girl, but he had a hard time believing that a dancer would be of any use to them. However much everyone had done their best to assure him that dancers and songstresses had proved vitally important to battles in many worlds by rejuvenating the spirits of exhausted fighters, he'd have to see it before he believed it.

The only other hero he immediately felt inclined to call a dud was Amelia; she may have shared Tana's sunny disposition, but she also had her inexperience. And unlike the Frelian, she had no royal training to rely on – the girl was a common foot soldier in her kingdom's army who'd only recently signed on. Ironically, that meant she wasn't too far off from the run-of-the-mill Emblians whose greenness they'd already exploited. At least this 'Grado' didn't spare any expenses outfitting their soldiers; she had a polished, if heavy-looking suit of armor (that clashed horribly with the miniskirt she and seemingly half the other woman were inclined to wear) and one mean monster of a battleaxe to swing. He'd have to assign someone to training duty with her, though with any luck she'd prove to be a fast learner. After all, the Breidablik singled her out for a reason, right?

The other three he'd summoned were far more promising. Tanith was a high-ranking officer in an imperial pegasus knight corps whom he thought would prove invaluable in assisting Tana. Not only would she be able to complete the princess's training, she also almost certainly had experience dealing with recruits who were distressed by their first kill. True, she was rather…stern, which may end up juxtaposing too sharply with Tana's free-spirited personality, but she was still a hell of a lot more qualified than he was. And she still had the decency to be concerned when, supported on both sides by Alfonse and Sharena, he clutched his head in pain just after her arrival, so she wasn't completely heartless.

Libra would likely prove just as indispensable to Maria. She'd been learning decently from Father Galien in the castle, but he imagined the strong-willed Macedonian would probably respond better to Libra and his savage, jagged axe. If she was brought up to respect strength, then the militant war cleric was the best fitting teacher he could think of. Auspiciously, his strength was complemented by a calm serenity that he had no doubt would be vital in helping Maria through her trauma. Tanith may have been a bit blunt, but he was certain Libra at least had the necessary tact to help a young girl in her time of need.

Finally, Camus may not have had any obvious mentor roles ahead of him but being the captain of an elite order of knights meant the man clearly knew his way around a battlefield. He certainly looked the part, clad in his jet-black garb and armor; even his horse's white coat was somewhat difficult to make out under its own layers of protection. His defense wasn't just physical – he seemed to be the most emotionally guarded of the batch as well. Tanith was stoic, but that felt more like it stemmed from militaristic professionalism; Camus gave the impression of being closed off in general. In the end though, Kiran didn't really mind it. As long as he answered his call and was willing to fight, that was all that mattered.

They had nearly returned to the castle now. Along the initial trip to the shrine, Kiran finally asked about that empty space between his tower staircase and room. Apparently, it was where his desk was supposed to be – it was intended to serve as his office so he could meet people outside his private chambers. Kiran didn't particularly care about things staying as they already were, but Alfonse insisted it was improper and that the change be made right away. He even offered to have a bookshelf or two sent up to house all the strategy books he'd have to burn through, which Kiran had to admit wasn't a bad idea (even if it would be hell on the poor servants who would do all the work).

After the newly summoned heroes had all been filled in, Anna went on ahead to round up the other members of the Order for a welcoming party. The guardsmen no longer faltered at the sight of an unfamiliar entourage approaching the gates; having been brought up to speed by Alfonse a week earlier, they merely snapped to attention as the gates opened.

When they walked into the courtyard, the rest of the heroes were indeed waiting for them. Then, the moment everyone got a good look at each other, Kiran could tell immediately tell something was about to go wrong: Haar, in contrast to his usual lackadaisical attitude, widened his eye in surprise and loosed some curse under his breath. Before Kiran could try and begin the introductions in spite of Haar's reaction, the senior pegasus knight at his side let her own thoughts be known.

"Well, this is quite a surprise." Tanith intoned in mock sincerity, unamused contempt dripping from every word. "Not only have you brought Haar underneath your banner, you've even managed to keep him from running off to join another kingdom."

Running off? The confused summoner thought. What is that supposed to mean?

He wanted to vocalize his question, but Haar drew an exasperated sigh and started responding first. "It's nice to see you too, Tanith." Despite the pleasant words, his miserable tone made it clear that catching up with her was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Keep your indolent tongue behind your teeth, traitor." She coldly shot back. "You've no right to speak to the Holy Guard's deputy commander in so casual a manner." Her recrimination of treachery drew shocked looks from everyone, but especially the heroes who'd been there longer and already fought alongside the wyvern rider.

"Whoa, hold on a second!" Kiran interrupted, putting his hands up in a mollifying gesture. "That's a pretty big thing to accuse somebody of. What did Haar supposedly do to make you say something like that?"

"His crimes are not 'supposed' in the least, Summoner." She turned to respond to Kiran directly, her voice losing its disdainful edge when doing so. "He was once an honorable and upstanding member of Begnion's Holy Dracoknights," she explained with an increasingly derisive scowl, "at least until he chose to disgrace himself and his nation by following that cur Fizzart in his defection to Daein."

Okay, that's…honestly pretty bad. Kiran mentally admitted. He wasn't the only one to think so; Camus was now glaring daggers at the accused as well. But then, she's also probably biased, and I'd be a real asshole to condemn Haar without hearing his side of the story.

"Well, Haar, is she telling the truth?"

The cyclopean soldier dragged his hand across face with an unmistakably annoyed glint in his eye. "On paper, yes." He confessed. "I followed Commander Shiharam and left Begnion for Daein. What she isn't mentioning is that, one, Daein and Begnion weren't at war or anything and so it was less a defection and more leaving one country for another. Two, it was twenty years ago and she was a little girl when it happened, yet she's still holding a grudge over it. And three, I ended up abandoning Daein for the same reason I left Begnion: I couldn't stand the leadership and its crimes." He returned Tanith's glare with one of his own. "That last one is especially important since she was there when it happened." Haar's voice dipped even deeper into mocking condescension than Kiran had ever seen from him before. It was as good an indication as any that he was genuinely upset at Tanith for bringing up sins that, from the sound of things, he'd long been absolved of.

For her part, Tanith was unimpressed with his defense, as demonstrated by her unimpressed scoff. "I shouldn't be surprised to see you resorting to constructing falsehoods to deceive these good people, but I'd imagine you'd at least put more effort into it. Do you truly think me so mentally impaired I can't even count? Your treachery was committed seventeen years ago, and you are well known to still be a dog of Daein. Not only have I never met you in person before now, but I was only able to recognize you because our spies in Daein very recently provided us with updates sketches of you and your unit's appearances; your slicked back hair and eyepatch are unmistakable."

"…Huh?" Kiran heard Maria dumbfoundedly utter. He shared her bewilderment; now he was really confused. It was one thing for there to be a couple discrepancies in their stories, but it was crazy for them to disagree on something as basic as whether or not they'd even met one another. They weren't the only ones scratching their heads; everyone looked totally lost and unsure of whom they should believe.

"Maria's got the right idea – what the hell are you talking about?" Haar responded with no small amount of confusion himself. "Tanith, I defected to the Crimean Liberation Army at the Riven Bridge. Ike had you in the rear because of all the ballista and you personally helped Jill and I fight off the wyvern riders sent to stab me in the back. I know it was three years ago, but considering you gave me the same earful you're giving now at camp that night, I'd have thought you'd remember it."

Wait a minute, Haar thinks he made up with Tanith three years ago while she thinks she's never met him. Their dates for when he defected are also off by three years, so could it be possible that…

"What in the Goddess' name are you on about?" Tanith dumbfoundedly demanded. "I've never taken orders from anybody by the name of Ike nor have I ever served in any Crimean force. You've either gone senile or delusional, you craven old –"

"Shut up, both of you!" Kiran interrupted, stepping between them with his arms outstretched to both sides. "Does anybody else here already know each other? Anyone who's from the same world?"

Virion quickly stepped forward with his hand raised. "Libra and I both served in The Shepherds under Exalt Chrom in Ylisse."

Kiran expectantly turned his head to the blonde priest, who immediately gave him an affirming nod. "Indeed. We were not particularly close, but I can confirm that I have fought alongside Sir Virion in the past."

"Okay, Virion, what year was it in Ylisse when I summoned you?" Kiran asked with a grave impetus to his words

"As I recall, it had been roughly two and a half years since Chrom's marriage to Lady Sumia." Virion's recounting was casual enough, but the shocked look on Libra's face all but confirmed what Kiran was afraid of.

"That is most distressing to hear," the war cleric dispiritedly began, "seeing as how I can say with absolute certainty that Chrom's marriage occurred but a handful of months ago. What's more, he has happily wed Lady Maribelle, not Sumia."

At hearing Libra relate his knowledge of the royal marriage, Kiran cupped his face in both palms and began defeatedly shaking his head. "Oh no…it's even worse than I thought…"

"Can we slow down a bit?" Sharena spoke up, perplexion on her face. "Because I am completely lost. Why don't Virion and Libra have the same story? How can we know who's telling the truth?"

"They're both telling the truth, Sharena." Kiran answered, his voice muffled behind his hands. He tiredly dropped his arms to his side and deeply sighed. "Just like how Tanith and Haar were both telling the truth."

"Wait, but if they're both correct, wouldn't that mean they were summoned from different points in time?" Alfonse cautiously suggested, his disbelief in his own idea clear to see.

"It's not just that, Alfonse." Anna put in her own two cents. "Libra and Virion disagreed on whom Exalt Chrom married. They aren't merely from different times…"

"…They're from different worlds entirely." Kiran gravely finished for her. "I was worried this might be the case ever since you first told me about Veronica's ultimate plans. If Embla wins, they won't just get a Jugdral, Elibe, et cetera; they'll get a potentially countless number of each."

"What?!" Camus exclaimed, aghast at the thought Kiran put forward. "Failure would not only mean the subjugation of my homeland, but of numerous copies as well? How can you even be certain the state of affairs is indeed as dire as you say?"

"I'm not certain, which is why I said 'potentially' countless. Divergences might only happen with big events like whom the king marries, or maybe with something as innocuous as whether a random peasant put his left boot on before his right on a random day." He weakly shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "There's just no way to tell how many worlds there are or how they differ."

Kaze, who had been in silent contemplation up to this point, decided to give his own thoughts on the matter. "We must not ignore the possibility that there are multiple Zeniths as well, each with their own Kiran and Order of Heroes."

Kaze's proposition caused Kiran to painfully wince; the thought that he could do everything right and still lose because another version of him screwed up was a far from pleasant one. "Ugh, Christ, maybe we are better off ignoring that. We've got enough on our plate as is; worrying about whether or not our hypothetical counterparts are doing their jobs right is just extra baggage we don't need." Kaze responded with a small hum of acknowledgement and made no further comment on the matter.

"Um, putting aside the different worlds," Ninian found her voice for the first time since she appeared at the shrine, "why were we summoned when we were? I don't mean to be rude, but some of us look a bit…young."

"That's an excellent question, Ninian." Kiran acceded. "One that, unfortunately, I have no clue how to answer. Look, I'm going to level with you guys: I don't have the faintest idea how the summoning process works. As far as I can tell, it's mostly random chance. I mean, there must be some criteria the Breidablik checks for before doing the summoning, but as for who, when and where? That part's a total blank."

Camus raised his brow in skepticism at Kiran's admission of ignorance. "For the 'Great Hero' and tactician, you seem to be awfully ill-informed."

Kiran shot the Sable knight an unimpressed, deadpan look. "Camus, if you want to read the legend outlining all of this, be my guest. Just don't complain when you realize it's pointlessly vague and neglects to explain the important parts."

Camus briefly averted his eyes with the slightest hint of shame before replying. "I suppose if an explanation were readily available, it would already be known to you all. My apologies."

"It's fine, I know I'm not exactly the best at this." Kiran waved him off. "Anyway, we should probably get formal introductions under way, huh? We, uh, got a little sidetracked there."

"The fault is mine for denouncing Haar out of turn." Tanith confessed, the slightest hint of pink on her cheeks. "I should not have spoken so rashly, especially when it would appear he has taken steps to atone for his past. Please, allow me to make my acquaintance: I am Tanith, deputy commander of the Begnion Holy Guard and guardian to the apostle."

Thanks to Tanith taking the initiative, the rest of the recently summoned ensemble followed suit and introduced themselves without much fuss. Kiran even noticed Tana's face light up a little when Amelia announced she was from Grado; if he had to guess, they were from the same world and that bit of information helped the princess realize it. Once the newcomers were done, the veterans took their turns. Everything seemed to be going well…and then the moment Tana announced her station, Amelia shrieked in fear and brandished her axe.

"Amelia, what's wrong?!" Anna, who was closest, asked and put out her hand in a comforting motion.

"The princess of Frelia is a cold-blooded murderer!" The blonde explained in terror, her knees visibly quivering. "She and her brother are heartless monsters! My commander specifically warned us about her cruelty in case we ran into her during the war!"

As surprising as it was to learn Grado and Frelia were apparently at war in Amelia's time, Kiran was far more concerned with what she had said about Tana. God dammit, Amelia, that is the last fucking thing Tana needs to hear right now! He mentally cursed her for buying so readily into what was obviously wartime propaganda. It hadn't even been half a day since Tana made her first kill, and she was obviously still reeling from it. Looking at her now, pale as a ghost and with a horrified look on her nearly tearful face, he worried Amelia may have done irreparable harm.

Urgently, he raced up to Amelia and gripped her shoulders, causing her to turn her panicked expression to him. "Amelia, listen to me! Whatever you've been told, it isn't true, understand?"

"B-but if it wasn't true then why would they –"

"They tell you those things so you won't feel bad about killing your enemies! They make shit up so you won't hesitate when the chips are down! Does Tana look like a soulless monster to you?!" He stretched his arm out to draw her attention to the Frelian in question, who now had streaks of tears running down her ashen cheeks.

After getting a good look, Amelia's eyes darted to the ground and began flicking back and forth in a clear reflection of her conflict. "N-no…she just looks scared and upset…" A moment of further reflection passed before she pulled her head back up with renewed defiance. "But she's still an enemy of Grado, right?"

"No!" Tana herself refuted, her voice surprisingly controlled given the obvious distress she was in. "My father has always had an amicable relationship with Emperor Vigarde! I'm telling you, there's no possible reason for Frelia and Grado to be at war!"

"Princess Tana, I implore you to please try and calm down." Clive urged at her side. "It was just established that we were summoned from different times in different worlds. Amelia could be from a future where some horrible circumstances led to war; circumstances that may never happen in your home."

"But what if the wheels of fate are already in motion and our countries are already on the path to war?" Tana implored to no one in particular. "When I return, I must do everything I can to prevent the fires of war from ravaging Magvel!"

That was a horrible idea born from Tana's frenzied panic, one that Kiran knew he had to nip in the bud before she got really attached to it. "Tana, listen to me. I know you don't want to see your country at war but running around trying to change a future you barely know anything about is a terrible idea. The second you alter anything, you'll have thrown history off the rails and set God knows what events in motion. Your meddling might end up actively making things worse than they'd originally been."

Tana wasn't very mollified by Kiran's explanation; if anything, he only made her more agitated. "Am I supposed to stand aside and let my subjects die when I may be able to stop it?! I won't accept that!"

"Tana, I really think you should listen to Kiran; he has more of a point than he realizes." Alfonse tried his hand at pacifying the princess. "Nearly every tale and legend of Magvel stresses how a war with Grado leads to the ascensions of the Restoration King and Queen and ushers in a new golden age of peace and prosperity. If you try to avert that war, you may end up bringing about an even greater calamity further down the road."

Even Virion threw his hat into the ring and gave his thoughts on the matter. "Believe me, princess, as horrible an affair as war is, it is often necessary to spare the world even worse horrors. While I weep for the countrymen that fell during the conflicts in which I fought, I take heart in knowing their sacrifices saved many more from sharing their fate."

The multitude of cases against her cause any further protest to die on Tana's lips. Her tear ducts ran dry and her arms limply fell to her side. "I'm the princess of Frelia – that means I'm supposed to guide and protect my subjects. I just…it hurts to think about staying my hand when I know they will be put in harm's way."

"As royalty, we can never offer solutions, only tradeoffs." Ayra spoke up for the first time since they had returned to the castle. "You aren't the first princess to face a dilemma like this and you won't be the last. The sooner you accept what you can't change, the sooner it'll stop grieving you." Her harsh truth got Tana to weakly nod and make no further statements on the matter.

"This lesson goes for everyone, by the way." Kiran stressed to the group. "Whatever you hear or learn about here in Askr, don't start getting any stupid ideas about 'fixing' the future when you get home. Unless the thing you're trying to prevent is the literal apocalypse, you'll probably end up doing more harm than good." Virion, who looked ready to make a comment, suddenly backed down at Kiran's final line.

Anna gave a weary sigh to fill the tense silence that followed Kiran's declaration. "Gods, to think we were just supposed to have a few quick introductions. I think a hearty meal would do well to help us all wind down. Sharena, why don't you take Tanith and Camus to the stables and meet us back in the dining hall? We can tell everyone about the castle layout and what the Order has accomplished while we eat." Sharena made a small noise of affirmation before gesturing the two mounted heroes to follow her lead.

As the newcomers split up, Amelia moved towards Tana, her hands nervously wringing together on the handle of her axe. "Um, princess?" When the Frelian turned to her with a perplexed look, the Grado girl bowed her head. "I'm sorry for those awful things I said about you. I may just be a lowly soldier, but I should decide the truth with my own eyes, not blindly follow what I was told. I came here because I want to do the right thing and I already messed up with the way I treated you."

Initially, Tana only stared in stunned silence. After a moment, her lips curled into a gentle smile. "Worry not, Amelia, I will hold no ill will towards you. That you have taken so little time to make amends is proof enough that you are a good person. And do not trouble yourself with your rank; whatever our stations in the past, the Order acts as something of an equalizer and has already brought together heroes from all walks of life." The scarlet armored blonde happily giggled at Tana's words and began animatedly chatting with her. It seemed that, whatever weights were added to her shoulders, Tana would not fully abandon her optimism and geniality.

From the back of the pack, Kiran began following the others inside when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder just outside the doorway. Glancing back, he saw it was Ayra who was holding him back, her expression even more serious and grave than usual. "We need to talk. Now." Her tone left no room for discussion, and when Alfonse curiously looked over his shoulder at the pause in their steps, Kiran waved him off with what he hoped was a reassuring expression. Though somewhat bemused, the prince made no fuss and went inside with the rest of their entourage.

Now alone, Kiran addressed the swordswoman. "Okay, what's up? You're even tenser than usual."

"That summoning power of yours extends further than you realize." She replied. As she prepared to elaborate, Kiran noticed her disposition become more uncomfortable. "Listen, before you summoned me, my comrades and I fought in a great battle. One that we lost."

"Um, alright?" he uncertainly responded. "I wouldn't expect you win every fight. What's that got to do with how I summon?"

She frustratedly sighed. "Kiran, we lost." She heavily emphasized the last word and ruefully narrowed her eyes. "Everything." Kiran squinted in further confusion for a few seconds before the meaning of her words dawned on him and caused his eyes to widen in stupefied shock.

"W-wait, are you trying to say that you, you know…didn't make it?" He was hesitant to come out and say it given she was standing right in front of him, but the tightening of her lips meant there could be no doubt about her fate. "Jesus Christ…how are you even here? I mean, don't people hear a message from me first? If you were really gone, then there's no way…"

"I don't know any more than you do. One second there was nothing, and the next had your voice echoing. In any case, how I was summoned doesn't matter; what's important is what this means for your summoning skills. If you can summon from across time, worlds, and even the grave, there's no telling what else you might be able to do." She locked her eyes with his in an intense gaze. "Be careful, Kiran. This power is unpredictable and poorly understood. You need to be prepared for anything that might appear after you pull the trigger."

Kiran anxiously glanced at the relic hanging from his belt. "Yeah, I hear you. If I play with fire, I'll end up getting burned. And don't worry, I'll keep quiet about your past."

She gave a small, appreciative nod. "Thank you. I hold no regrets over how I lived my life, but…" She nervously shifted her eyes to the side for an instant. "The others may be needlessly burdened with doubts if they knew I had failed once before." Personally, Kiran thought most of them were too nice to feel that way, but Ayra wasn't much of a people person and he'd respect her wishes to keep her private information on the down low.

With the matter at hand settled, the duo resumed their short trek back to the dining hall. There had been a discomforting number of incidents for what was supposed to be a banal welcoming for the new heroes, but he still felt optimistic about how the group would perform. And he reserved some of that optimism for how tomorrow's session would fare as well.


One lesson Kiran was quickly learning was that having positive expectations only set him up for disappointment.

Odin was, in every conceivable way, a sick joke. Not only did he dress like some clown stripper, but the lunatic had been spouting nonsense from the second he appeared. His madness was further punctuated by the ridiculous poses he did at the end of every other insane statement.

It didn't remotely help that Kiran had barely slept any more the previous night. Were he fully rested, he'd probably be able to tolerate the mage's antics. As it stood, however, his patience was at an all-time low and his temper had never been shorter. The Askran siblings were more dumbfounded than annoyed by his antics, and they still gave him a quick rundown as best they could. Anna would likely had shared their reaction, but she had stayed behind to catch up on the various bureaucratic hassles that had been piling up and exacerbated by the addition of five new heroes.

"Ah, I see fate has chosen her champions in this land well!" Odin exclaimed once he'd been introduced. "The thought of wielding my arcane secrets at your side is sending my cursed blood into a boil. I fear the darkness inside me may grow too powerful to control!"

Kiran couldn't stand another second of Odin's nonsense. He knew he was supposed to be cordial, but all the stress he'd recently been put under was doing no favors for his sense of diplomacy. With the Breidablik already pointed forward, he angrily twisted his neck to reprimand the dark mage. "Goddammit, Odin, will you please put a sock in it?! No one cares about your edgy ramblings! I didn't ask for your help so you could rant about inane bullshit, I did it so you would help us kill our enemies!" Absentmindedly, he pulled the trigger at the tail end of his statement, leading the shrine to be engulfed once again in a blinding light.

He heard whomever he summoned before he saw them. A single word, uttered with such single-minded soullessness that he immediately realized he'd screwed up by not reigning in his train of thought before firing the relic.

"Kill…"

As their vision cleared, he saw a raven-haired girl in a green dress and white tights with a red scarf around her neck. Tightly gripped in her hand was a purple longsword that looked to be almost pulsating with a sickening lilac glow. The most striking detail about her, however, was her eyes, which despite their salient scarlet coloration were disturbingly dull and devoid of life.

"Oh, um, hey there." He nervously greeted her. "We, uh, didn't catch your name. Who were you again?" He tried to be as casual as possible, but his voice still wavered. Glancing back, he saw the other three were just as reserved as him. For all of Odin's grandstanding about his 'inner darkness', it was readily apparent that he shared their discomfort at being around this creepy stranger.

"Name…?" she lifelessly intoned. "I don't know…and it doesn't matter. Nothing matters…save for spilling blood!" Filled with a sudden vitality, she locked her blazing crimson eyes with his. "Your voice…you said I could help you kill countless people." Her gaze drifted to the companions behind him. "Shall I start with those three?"

Her threat put them all on immediate alert; the royals brandished their weapons and Odin flipped open his tone with surprising swiftness, his earlier wackiness abandoned in face of this imminent danger. Kiran thrust his arms out in what was probably a futile effort to get the girl to keep her distance. "No!" he exclaimed. "No, they are not the enemy! There aren't any enemies around us right now!"

She made no move forward, but Kiran's attempt at pacifying her only earned him an angry growl. "I will not be denied. I can smell blood on the wind! If I cannot slaughter them, then who?!"

She's out of her God dammed mind! Kiran incredulously thought. Fuck this, I'm not letting a psycho like her hang around the castle. The legend mentioned I could send people back at the shrine by aiming at them with the Breidablik, so as long as I'm subtle about it…

Quietly and slowly, Kiran began to take aim from his hip. "Well, you see, we, the Kingdom of Askr, are at war with this empire, called Embla, who're trying to conquer every world – even yours. They've got a huge numerical advantage over us, so I summon warriors like you to help us even the odds." After a bit of talking, he was confident he had her lined up with the relic. Quickly, he squeezed the trigger…and heard the same dull click that had followed Maria's summoning. Horrified, he broke sight with the girl to stare at the apparently spent Breidablik. He slightly angled it away to confirm it wasn't merely failing to return her and received yet another click when he tried firing again.

Not only did I not get rid of this freak, I don't even have any more summons left?! That's impossible! There's no way it could be empty already!

"You sound weak…" Her contemptuous remark redrew his attention to her. "And the weak deserve to die!" She gripped her sword in both hands and bared her teeth.

From behind, he felt someone pull at his shoulder. "Kiran, hurry and get behind us where it's safe!" Alfonse desperately implored him. He was faced with a dilemma: killing the girl would save them a lot of trouble, but there was no telling how much of a fight she would put up. If the Breidablik really lost summons that quickly, egregious harm to anyone would be a devastating blow. Even Odin, insufferably nutty as he was, had suddenly become much more valuable. Much as he hated to admit it, the girl was no exception; if her bloodthirst could be constructively directed, she could turn out to be useful after all. If push really came to shove, he figured they could always lock her up until he could figure out how to send her back – or perhaps even have Kaze deal with her in her sleep.

Against his better judgement, Kiran resisted Alfonse's pull to stand his ground. "Listen, you want to kill people, right?" The girl didn't back down but made no more aggressive movements either. "This empire won't subjugate worlds with fighting the normal way. They'll magically make it impossible for anyone to do anything but bow their heads in servitude. If you help them by killing us, they'll turn every world into a land of peace where there's no war, no conflict, and no killing. But if you help us stop them, not only will you be able to kill lots of people here, but you'll be able to go on killing when you get home." It was a horrific argument to make, and to a normal person it would honestly sound like a case for Embla. Case in point, he heard Sharena give a shocked gasp behind him.

"Kiran, how could you say something like that?!" She demanded of him. Thought it pained him to do so, he ignored her for the moment. If he let up, the girl might lose patience and attack them.

"Oh, and those soldiers who outnumber us? Most of them are normal people who have no idea how to fight. They're numerous and easy to take out. That's an ideal combination for you, right?" God, he could feel the aghast looks the others were giving him. He wasn't taking his own words much better; they might've been his enemies, but the thought of letting this deranged maniac loose on random conscripts made him feel sick.

A moment of tense silence passed before the girl's lips curled into a sickening sneer. "Like lambs to the slaughter…" she purred to herself. "Fine. I'll play along – so long as you provide me with sufficient prey." At last, she dropped her fighting stance and sauntered over to him. Despite her assurances, nobody released any of their tension or fear as she joined them, something she seemed to relish in.

"Perhaps," Alfonse cautiously began, "it best if we simply finish summoning for now."

Kiran winced at the suggestion. "Yeah, about that…" he quickly raised the Breidablik and demonstrated its inability to further summon. Defeatedly, he turned away from the shrine entirely to share in their collective disappointment.

"But it hasn't even been a full two days!" Sharena defiantly exclaimed. "How could the relic be depleted so quickly? We must have felled at least a score and a half of Emblians!"

"Because I'm only ever right about the worst things." Kiran ruefully replied as he did some quick calculations in his head. "If we killed anywhere from 25 to 34 troops that night, then I was right on the money when I bitched this thing probably decayed with a 1/10 rate."

"Uh, what exactly are you guys talking about?" Odin inquired. "I mean, summoning magic is pretty taxing stuff, even for one imbued with such fell power as I." Kiran noted that Odin had significantly toned down his nuttiness; whether that was because of his angry outburst or because of the disturbing woman next to them, he couldn't say.

"Basically, whenever an Emblian soldier dies with me and this relic nearby, it becomes imbued with the power to summon someone from another world. By all accounts, 1 death equals 1 summon. Unfortunately, because nothing in life can ever be easy, it loses summons at an exponential rate over time. We got into a battle a couple nights ago; It's fairly likely the number of troops killed by the Order was in the range I gave earlier. I summoned 5 heroes yesterday, so afterwards the range of summons was 20 to 29. Between then and now, the number of summons decayed by some factor. If it was by 1/10 like I think, then when we came to the shrine today, I had 2 to 2.9 summons left. Obviously, 9/10 of a summon is meaningless, so it rounded down." He finished his explanation, which Odin took in with a thoughtful nod of the head. Alfonse and Sharena also more or less followed, though the latter seemed to be struggling a bit more than her brother. The girl just vacantly stared, though he got the impression she was still listening.

"Wow, that's some relic you've got there." Odin sincerely praised. "I wasn't joking earlier – summoning magic tends to be incredibly demanding. There must be some wicked magical matrix between you and it for you to be able to manage a whole summoning from just one sacrifice."

Kiran wasn't totally sure what Odin meant by that, but he knew how little he personally liked the relationship between him and the Breidablik. "Well, it does start to kill me the more consecutive summons I do, so, you know…" He resentfully trailed off.

Odin gave a little hum of affirmation. "Ah, that would definitely explain some of it. A two-way conduit between the summoner and his apparatus that utilizes his vitality as a catalyst would be the bare minimum you'd need to get something like this to start working. It's only natural this land's chosen one would need to risk using cursed magic to harness his vast power!" He punctuated his absurd claim with a dramatic pose, hovering his open palm in front his face and angling to the side on bent legs.

"Uh-huh…" Alfonse ambivalently remarked. "Returning to the matter at hand, I'm uncertain of how to proceed going forward. We already explored our options when we decided to conduct that supply raid; operations like that are the only ones we could plan for and still make strategic headway executing. If we push our luck with deeper skirmishes for the sake of supplying the Breidablik, we'll be putting ourselves at significantly more risk for relatively little gain."

"We're not even the ones being put at the most risk in fights." Sharena cut in. "We might be in the thick of it, but most of our wounds can be healed by Libra or the other clerics. Kiran doesn't get second chances; if you take a big blow, you'll be bedridden for months, at best!"

"Wait, what?!" Odin incredulously asked.

"Well I can't just sit around doing nothing!" Kiran protested. "I'm already in harm's way as is, so I might as well up the frequency so we can at least get something out of it!" Unspoken was Kiran's hope that further exposure to combat might numb him to it faster; he felt that the sooner he acclimated to his new lifestyle, the better.

Alfonse sadly shook his head. "I'm afraid you ask too much. I still believe waiting for our spies to locate another ample target is the best approach while our numbers are still so few. Then, we can carefully construct a plan that accounts for your presence in the battle and maximizes your safety. If we run around picking random fights with limited intelligence, there's no telling how quickly we may lose control of the situation."

"Sorry to butt in, but what was Princess Sharena was saying about Kiran and healing?" Odin nervously inquired. "Because it sounded like you were implying clerical magic wouldn't work on him."

"Yeah, that's right." Kiran nonchalantly replied. "Those staves light up like the sun, but nothing happens no matter how hard their users try."

"Wha – but that's – I don't –" Odin started dumbfoundedly sputtered. "Alright, I'm no cleric, but I am pretty sure a competent healer would only get that result if they were trying to heal something with no connection to the Magical Aether. Which, considering you're alive, is obviously not the case."

Kiran shared a quick look with the siblings and turned back to the stupefied mage. "Not sure how to tell you this, Odin, but there's no magic where I come from. We even went out of our way to look for an all-encompassing aether about a century back and proved it didn't exist."

Odin couldn't formulate an immediate response to that; the best he could manage was a thousand-yard stare of appalled shock. Eventually he managed to outstretch his arm in a gesture of dumbfounded confusion and find his voice. "But – but you're a summoner! You just summoned me! It's insanely difficult for gifted sages to summon as effortlessly as you do, even with a relic helping them! What you say just isn't possible!" Odin buried his head in his hands and futilely shook it. "I…I need to think on this."

"If it means anything, we were all just as lost as you when Kiran first told us." Sharena attempted to console him. "At least now you understand just how much danger he's in. That's why we can't risk making any moves unless we're absolutely certain we can keep him safe!"

"Cowards." The girl scornfully remarked, drawing their attention to her. "At least he," her eyes lingered on Kiran, "is willing to further the carnage. Your fear makes you soft and weak! If blood must be shed, then do not hesitate in shedding it!"

Alfonse, who looked to have gotten over his initial apprehension around the girl, took up the task of reining her in this time. "If you rush out to create 'carnage' regardless of the risk and die because your foes outnumbered and outsmarted you, how are you to go on killing them?"

She gave a displeased snarl and tightened her fists but understood his point and didn't argue any more. "Enough talk…I'm sick of standing here."

"For once, I think we agree on something." Kiran concurred.

"Yeah, my tortured mind could use a change of scenery to help clear away its doubts and confusion." Odin admitted before leaning in close to whisper at Kiran's ear. "And I'm eager to learn what's reallygoing on in this world instead of that malarkey you told that creep."

Man, it is not Odin's day. Kiran couldn't help but feel a little bad for him. Hopefully, he wouldn't lose heart when he realized Kiran had just embellished the worst parts of the story. "Sure, but let's wait until she's not around."

At last, the quintet made their way back to the castle with the sword-wielding psycho impatiently taking point on the road. "Okay, sword-girl, before anything else," Kiran began, "we need something we can call you."

The woman briefly looked back before facing forward again. "I already told you…it doesn't matter. Call me what you will."

"Alright then…" Kiran uncertainly started, before thinking of a suitable name. "How about Jane Doe?"

Sharena made a face and quickly voiced her doubts. "What kind of name is that? How did you even come up with it?"

"In my world, it's a catch-all term for a woman whose identity isn't known." He explained. "Like, if a female body is found in an alleyway and the authorities don't know who it is, they call her Jane Doe until they can figure it out. For reference, the male equivalent is John Doe."

"I suppose that's as fitting a name as any." Alfonse mused before calling out to the newly christened Jane. "I trust we can rely on you to respond to that when addressed as such?"

"Yes…" She impatiently answered and growled at the prince for his trouble. "All you people do is talk about pointless things. Names are meaningless…when I rend the flesh of my prey, what it called itself before it died doesn't matter."

Her sinister declaration got Kiran to grab Alfonse's arm and drag him close by. "Please, for the love of God, tell me we have a cell or something to put her in between battles." He frantically whispered.

"The castle was designed to house foreign dignitaries, remember?" The prince hissed back. "We don't have any means of holding prisoners."

The summoner let out a frustrated grunt in response. "Then we'll just have to put her away from everyone else. I don't think she'll try anything when we're all together for meals and whatnot, but I don't want to risk anyone running into her alone at night."

An uneasy quiet descended on the group as they traversed the increasingly well-worn road leading back to their home. Kiran was far from certain that bringing Jane onboard was a good idea, but it was probably nowhere near the last gamble he'd take before all was said and done. He only knew one thing for certain: Ayra had been right that the summoning process was fickler than he first realized. His best bet now was to just hope that the Breidablik picked whom it did for a reason and that Jane wouldn't do them more harm than good.


Ninian had never been one for crowds – and certainly not for human ones. Even with her chosen profession, she had always been happiest spending a quiet moment with Nils. As much as she enjoyed seeing the uplifted spirits her craft brought, she still ultimately took more joy from the act of dancing itself than the reactions of those observing it. Still, this Order of Heroes seemed to be filled with such good and upstanding people that their company was rather pleasant. Well…for the most part anyway. That Jane Doe girl Kiran somehow summoned yesterday made her skin crawl, but she hadn't seen her since last night's dinner.

The draconian dancer was currently in a rather unusual setting for one of her talents. Since he'd been skeptical ever since she was summoned, Kiran wanted to see her dancing abilities firsthand. To that end, she was at the training field with the fighters, so that once they'd worn themselves down, she could dance and reinvigorate their spirits.

Kiran hadn't really struck her as the physical type, so she was surprised to see him cast off his coat and head away from her at the castle wall in apparent preparation for exercise. Judging by his rather scrawny physique that was no longer hidden by his baggy jacket, she'd been correct in her initial assessment. She wasn't the only one who didn't expect his behavior; practically everyone there gave him confused looks as he joined them around the various training dummies and sparring circles.

"Um, Kiran," Commander Anna hesitantly began, "I don't mean any offense by this, but…what are you doing?"

The summoner in question began doing basic stretches with his arms. "Well, I figure that since I've basically resigned to being a soldier, I might as well do the workout regimen of one." He switched from his arms to his legs. "Don't get me wrong – this sucks and I'm not looking forward to it, but I've got to be in shape if I'm going to be running all over the country. Besides, we'll probably have to figure out a training schedule when the Order starts getting big enough, and it'd be a real dick move to order you guys to work out without doing some of it myself."

"I say it's about time." Ayra remarked from one of sparring areas, a dismounted Camus standing opposite to her. "Every leader needs to train their body as much as their mind. Give me a couple hours to warm up and I'll go over the basics of swordplay with you."

He wasn't facing her, so Ninian couldn't see his expression, but she could clearly tell his shoulders tensed up when Princess Ayra made the offer. "Oh no, none of that, thank you. This is just to get fit, not learn how to fight. If I split my attention between studying tactics and training for combat, I'll only end up half-assed in both since I'm starting from scratch either way."

Ah, the matter of Kiran's competence had been a somewhat disconcerting one when it was brought up the previous day. When it became clear that there would be no more newly summoned heroes, the veteran members of the Order took some of the afternoon to give them their personal accountings of their time there. In particular, they provided details about their hosts that the people in question had either forgotten or neglected to tell them.

The native Askrans had little in the way of interesting information, but Kiran was a walking anomaly. She and the other newcomers were understandably distressed to learn that their tactician had only taken up the role about a day earlier and had never studied the art of war, but they were quickly assured that he had a good head on his shoulder and a natural instinct for strategy. Princess Ayra and Sir Haar didn't look like the types to take orders from just anybody, so she was somewhat reassured by their endorsement.

Of far greater interest to Ninian was the fact that Kiran was not from Askr at all but hailed from an alien world that, among many other oddities, was completely bereft of magic. Odin was particularly shaken up by that information, insisting he'd thought it a cruel joke, and Libra wasn't far behind. She found it difficult to conceive of such a land herself, but if it was true, it came with an important caveat that may have made their summoner unique among every human she had ever met.

Dragons were magical creatures, meaning they had no chance of existing, let alone surviving, in a world devoid of magic. While some humans were capable of magic, they did not require the high density of ambient magic dragons did to sustain their natural forms. If what she'd been told was true…he was the only person who would have no bias concerning dragons, be it positive or negative. In other words, when told the past of her people, his judgement on their future would be a wholly honest one, untarnished by prejudice or naive optimism. And perhaps…she may even dare to hope that if he someday learned the truth about her, he would accept her for who she truly was.

The only issue left was the question of when she could bring up the subject of dragons. He was rather busy and she couldn't well just take his time to trouble him with her personal concerns. The best she could expect was to catch him alone in a brief moment of respite, whenever that may come.

"If you've no intention of training with a weapon, what are you going to do?" She was pulled from her musings by the Askran prince's voice as he inquired with the summoner.

Kiran shrugged with his hands on his hips as he finished his stretches. "Eh, I figured I'd just do some sit-ups, push-ups and run some laps. Not like I can do much more with the shape I'm in." Then, his voice dipped to levels that would've been inaudible if not for her enhanced draconic senses. "Maybe that'll wear me out enough so that I can actually sleep tonight."

So he was having trouble sleeping. She'd suspected as much when she first saw the dark circles under his eyes when he summoned her. He'd done a decent enough job of working through it thus far, but he couldn't keep it up forever. Thankfully, her dance would be able to relieve some of the strain he was under, so he would not be burdened by exhaustion much longer.

"There's no need to work yourself to the bone in your first session." The archer Virion spoke up from the shooting range on the far side of the field. "Simply do what you are able and do let me know if I may be of any assistance."

Ninian could've sworn she saw Ayra shoot a disapproving glare the bluenette's way, but she returned her attention to Camus too quickly for her to be sure. "Thanks, Virion." Kiran called out. "I might just take you up on that. Whelp, might as well get this over with…"

At last, Kiran began his exercises. He placed himself against the ground and pushed himself back up, though he only managed about half a dozen before he clearly started struggling. From there, he made good on Virion's offer and had him hold his legs still while he laid flat and bent his torso up to his knees. He fared slightly better at that, pulling off about twenty before giving out. Finally, after a drink from his canteen, he began jogging in wide circles around the training field.

By the time he couldn't take any more and fell on his bottom in the grass, sweating and panting, he'd done at most twenty minutes of effort. Which, if she was being totally honest, was kind of sad. She wasn't even a fighter and she knew she at least was in better shape – she had to be to perform and travel as she did.

She wasn't the only one feeling critical; everyone else was looking at him in varying states of disappointment and disbelief. It was Sir Clive from near a mounted training dummy who first gave voice to their collective incredulity. "Please, understand that insult is furthest from my intentions when I say this, but…is that truly all you can muster?"

Kiran made to offer his response, but Camus interrupted him with a contemptuous snort. "Do not mince words; that was a pathetic display! Even the poorest farmhand could produce a better showing."

"Oh, shut up!" Kiran angrily rebutted before panting a bit more to catch his breath. "What do you expect? I've been a desk jockey my whole life! At least I'm trying!" He paused to drink from his canteen once again. When he spoke again, it was under his breath once more. "Damn it, I can't believe I'm this out of shape…"

"Well, you've just gotta keep trying!" Sharena happily assured him, blunted throwing knives from Kaze strewn around her. "I certainly don't expect you to be superhuman in your first training session. The key to getting stronger is perseverance; you just have to keep at it, no matter how much your muscles might ache!"

"What fun…" Kiran grumbled before managing to find his feet again. To Ninian's surprise, he turned her way. "I hope that's one hell of a dance you know, Ninian." Before she could give a reply, he gave a hefty breath and started running laps again.

So went the Order's training session for the next few hours. Kiran went on and off with his workout, doing whatever he could manage. The others were far more consistent: Ayra cycled through several sparring partners, Clive and Camus practiced mounted lanceplay, Amelia went through basic drills with Anna, and so on. Once the timeframe for training had passed, Kiran wasn't the only one in a panting sweat. Everyone had worked up a glistening sheen and were short of breath. Though, at least they could all stand; Kiran was sprawled out on the grass.

"Alright, Ninian." He wheezed out from the ground. "Let's see what you've got."

"Okay." She nodded and stepped out towards the middle of the field. "Remember, please…you have to watch my dance for it to work." Usually, she would have Nils' flute to provide a tune; in his absence, her nerves were somewhat more frayed than normal. She paused a moment to make sure she had everyone's attention, took a deep breath to relax, and began.

As she began to twist her limbs and sway her hips, the world around her seemed to fade into a blur. She drew inward, focusing on nothing but the soothing rhythm to which her movements flowed. Her body curled and spun in long ingrained motions that were soon enhanced with her essence. Every undulation conveyed her energy to a captive audience, ensuring that their own spirits and bodies would be revitalized with what she was giving up. It was instinct more than any sense of time's flow when told her the dance was finished. Slowly, she ceased her whirling and twisting and returned her senses outward.

The effects were immediately visible: her observers looked on in stunned adoration, their cheeks once again full of color and their breaths no longer strained. There would be no more coin thrown her way, but the renewed health and energy of her new companions was worth its weight in gold. Yes, looking at the results of her efforts, she knew she had a place here – and so surely Kiran now knew her worth as well.

"I'm sorry, but what?!" It wasn't the disbelieving exasperation in Kiran's voice that drew her concerned attention to him so hastily. Rather, it was the fact that his words were still delivered in a breathless wheeze. In an instant, she could tell her dance hadn't affected him in the slightest; he was still completely wiped out and barely capable of using his arms to hold himself up. "Was that really it? It was a nice dance, don't get me wrong, but what was that supposed to do, exactly?"

"What the – goodness, Kiran, you still look terrible!" Anna worriedly exclaimed and hurried over to kneel at his side.

"Yeah, I still feel terrible, thanks for noticing." He gave his rejuvenated companion a confused once over. "So then why the hell are you so peachy? Weren't you leaning on your axe like five minutes ago?" With further bewilderment, he drank in the improved conditions of everyone save himself. "In fact, none of you look so much as slightly winded! You mean to tell me watching Ninian dance actually did something?"

"Yeah, I feel good as new." Amelia asked, baffled. "You were watching her, right?"

"Of course I watched!" He defensively replied. "I just didn't get anything out of it besides a neat performance." He paused briefly to think before speaking again, this time with a tone of perplexed acceptance. "Well, however little I got out of it, the dance obviously worked for everybody else. Of course, if they got their strength back watching you, any enemy could just as easily do the same, right?"

Oh, she hadn't thought of that. That would make dancing to turn the tide of battle rather pointless, wouldn't it? "Um, yes, I suppose that is true…" She contritely conceded.

"Right, which means we'll have to get creative if we want to make use of your talents somehow. At least now I know you weren't pulling my leg." He gave an exasperated scoff and titled his head. "Man, who the hell ever heard of dancing to recharge an exhausted soldier's batteries? Can't you guys just take adrenaline shots like normal people?" He shook his head. "Whatever, if it works it works."

She hadn't a clue what half of what he just said was supposed to mean. Alfonse seemed used to his strange sayings, as he merely took it in stride and ignored the oddities to give his thoughts. "If I could hazard a guess, I'd say the root cause of this issue is once again magical. Ninian, would you say your dance's restorative properties have a magic source?"

She'd never given it much thought, but she supposed it was certainly possible. In fact, now that she considered the matter, it was likely the dragon blood in her veins that made her dances capable of what they were. "When I dance, I feel as though…I exude a power within myself to all those watching. I'm afraid I know very little about magic, so…I can't say for sure how I do it."

The prince contemplated her words. "I'm far from an expert myself, but that sounds like it may be in line with my inclination. If only Libra weren't busy in the healing hall and Odin not tied up instructing Nino in magical theory. In any case, this is hardly a pressing concern, so we'll just try to get the matter cleared up when we've the time."

"Can do, Alfonse." Kiran deadpanned before struggling to his feet. "If it's all the same to you guys, I'm going to head back inside before I die of heatstroke. I'll be holed up in my office studying if you need me. Best of luck with training." He walked back over to the wall and began putting his coat back on

Ninian's eyes widened at his declaration. This was her chance! He'd be alone and idle as he returned to his tower; if ever there was an opportunity to speak to him in private without being intrusive, this was it. "Actually," she began, Kiran stopping as she did, "I'm feeling somewhat drained myself after performing my dance. Is there anywhere I might be able to recuperate and practice away from prying eyes?" She may have been capitalizing on the situation, but that wasn't just an excuse. Dancing did genuinely take quite a bit out of her and she didn't like to be watched as she honed her skills. A dance not ready to be performed for others was not a dance meant to be seen.

"Yes, of course!" Anna assured her. "If you head towards to back-right quadrant of the domestic wing, there's a sort of theatre. Obviously, nobody's used it in quite some time, so it's the perfect place for you to practice out of the way. If you have any trouble finding it, just ask a guard on patrol and they'll help you on your way."

Ninian gave her thanks, bid the others farewell, and headed over to Kiran, who had paused to wait for her. Apparently, he wouldn't turn his nose up at company on his little trek. Now, it was only a question of surmounting the awkward silence between them.

Thankfully, Kiran spared her the trouble of breaking the ice. "So, where'd you even learn to dance like that?"

"I grew up in…" She paused briefly to think of a suitable description. She didn't want to flat out lie about anything less than her species but telling the truth about her childhood would obviously end up revealing that. "…in seclusion with my little brother, away from society. We were a very…insular community. I learned my dancing there."

She felt a flash of fear when his face scrunched up in confusion; had she accidentally let something slip? "I thought you said you were a travelling performer? What made you want to leave your home and put on shows for a living?"

Her fear quickly gave way to relief – now that he brought it up, she remembered introducing herself that way. "I grew up there, but…it wasn't where I was born. Nils and I left to search for our birthplace."

"I take it Nils is that brother you mentioned?" She nodded. "I guess that's as good a reason as any to live like a nomad. You ever find the place you were looking for?"

If only… she mournfully thought. She and Nils made it to Elibe without much trouble, save the expected weakening of passing through the Dragon's Gate, but then they'd been captured by that man and woman. There was something disturbingly familiar about the former, but neither she nor Nils had ever pinned down what. By the skin of their teeth, they'd managed to escape to the mainland, only to be relentlessly hunted by assassins. She felt a sharp pang of guilt thinking of the trouble she'd left Nils in. The conflict in Zenith was doubtless important – evading their hunters would mean little if they ended up enslaved by Embla anyway – but the thought of Nils being on his own tugged at a primal fear. Despite his youthful appearance, she knew he was capable of taking care of himself, but she wouldn't be able to stop worrying about him.

"No…" She finally responded. "Nils and I have travelled far and wide and heard many tales…but we have yet to find our birthplace."

"That's too bad." He remarked. "Hope you have more luck when you get home."

She could tell the conversation was winding down and needed to make a move before it was too late. She dredged up what courage she could and opened her mouth. "Actually…I wanted to ask you about something I learned from what I heard on my travels."

He gave her an appraising look. "Okay, shoot."

She took a deep breath to steel her nerves. "Well, first of all…your world has no magic, right?" He quickly nodded. "Then…is it also true that there are no dragons there?"

He made an amused snort in response and quizzically looked at her. "That's what you wanted to ask? Sort of out of left field, but no, dragons don't exist back home." His answer gave her a brief rush of satisfaction; she'd been correct in her assessment. "Of course, we still have fictional concepts of them. After all, I knew what you meant by a 'dragon'." Just like that, her hope vanished like a puff of air. In hindsight, he'd always had an idea of magic despite that being nonexistent in his world. Why wouldn't he have a concept of magical creatures too?

Well, if she'd already gone to the trouble of bringing up the subject, she may as well finish what she started. "And what is your idea of a dragon?" She asked, her mood deflated.

"Oh jeez, that's actually kind of tough." He stopped to stroke his chin in thought. "Uh, I guess about the only consistent traits they all have are being giant flying lizards. Some breathe fire, some have wings, some hoard treasure, some have stone scales…man, they're all over the place now that I think about it. So what are dragons actually like?"

"Oh, um, they vary. There's Fire, Divine…Ice. But they all have hard scales and are much larger than any human." This might not have been as bad as she thought. Most humans had a uniquely negative perception of dragons. If Kiran's ideas of dragons had no consistency, he might as well not have any idea of them at all. "What about…" She nervously swallowed. "What about their morality? Are they good or evil?"

"Damn, that's a total toss up too. I guess Smaug in The Hobbit was an evil monster who burned villages and ate the innocent. But then, in every Final Fantasy I'm pretty sure Bahamut was a good guy who always helped out the heroes when they needed him. And then I think some aren't good or evil at all." He looked at her more closely, this time with the slightest hint of skepticism. "Why do you want to know anyway?"

She could work with this. It may not have been ideal, but he clearly didn't have a preference for any of the interpretations he'd listed. "It has to do with the history of my world." She confessed. "I can tell you, if you wouldn't mind hearing the story?"

They were nearly to the domestic wing, and thus running increasingly short on time. Kiran doubtless noticed that and took it into consideration when deciding his answer. "Sure, I should probably be learning more about the different worlds anyway. I don't mind standing outside my stairwell if it comes to that."

"You see, many thousands of years ago, humans and dragons lived together in harmony. Then, for reasons that have been lost to time…humanity attacked the dragons." Actually, the humans who spoke of The Scouring unanimously told her the opposite story, but living amongst the survivors for so long ensured she knew the truth – even if her own memories of that time were almost totally lost. "The resulting war lasted for generations…and as it drew to a close, the dragons' numbers had been reduced to practically a handful. Those few left fled from the world through a magic gateway, leaving humanity the sole masters of Elibe." She considered mentioning the destruction wrought by the war forcing the dragons to take on human form, but refrained for fear that Kiran would connect that detail and her unusual interest in dragons to conclude her true nature.

"That's quite a story." He pensively commented. "So what's with all the dragon talk? Do you want to know what I think started the war or something?"

She somberly shook her head. "No, I…I wanted to know if you think things could ever go back to the way they were. If humans and dragons could live together in peace like they once used to."

His eyes flittered to the side as he gathered his thoughts. "Do you want that peace to be everlasting?" He asked with an acute edge to his voice.

"Yes." She breathed and deeply nodded. "I would love nothing more…"

He paused once more. After a moment, he took a deep breath and released it as a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, Ninian, but…I think that's just a pipe dream." She felt her heart sink into her stomach; if even someone as detached from the problem as Kiran thought there wasn't any possibility of peace, what could she hope from the people of Elibe? "But," he suddenly continued, "that's got nothing to do with the dragons themselves."

That wasn't what she expected to hear. "I'm sorry…?" She hesitantly asked

"There'll never be eternal peace – not here, not there, not anywhere. After all, why are the two of us here if not because some royal brat got power-hungry and started a war? Be honest with me: did Elibe really spend at least a thousand years after the war at peace just because humanity's common enemy was gone?"

"I don't believe so…" She admitted, very interested in this avenue of thought he had opened up.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Now, that war might've been an attempt at genocide, but seeing as how it's been at least a millennium since it ended, I'm willing to hold out hope that an olive branch between the two races might be possible. Especially since no one has any clue what even set it off in the first place. But even if you start to reconcile, there's always going to be people who fear and resent what's different than they are. And I doubt the dragons themselves are an exception to that rule."

His words ended on a rather cynical note despite starting out somewhat optimistically. "But, if there will always be unfounded hatred, then how…" She uncertainly trailed off. "I mean…what are we supposed to do?"

He apologetically shrugged his shoulders. "I don't have all the answers, Ninian. I just know that no peace lasts forever – but on the flip side, neither does any war. I'd say the best you can do when you get back is try and find some like-minded people. From there, the future is whatever you make it."

Was that even possible? Were there really humans out there who would be willing to live with her kind again?

"Now," he abruptly started, "since you're so keen on hearing my thoughts on dragons, let me say this: if a dragon pops out when I try to summon, I'll probably freak out for a few minutes before calming down." She uncomfortably frowned; this seemed an unusually dower turn to take the conversation. "Then, once I get my bearings, I'll welcome them onboard the same as anybody else."

She blinked in surprise. "Truly?"

"Sure, why not? I mean, I'm giving Jane Doe a chance. If I'm willing to put up with that psycho, I think I can live with having someone of a different species around." He snarked and shot her a deadpan stare. "And if anyone tries to throw a fit over it, I'll put my foot down and make them play nice. Can't win the war if heroes are going at each other's throats, right?"

She softly giggled, more out of relief than anything else. She wasn't ready to reveal herself, and wouldn't be for some time, but his assurances still meant a lot.

"Whelp, looks like this is my stop." Indeed it was – they were right outside the central tower. "Hope I was able to help. Good luck with your practice, Ninian."

"Thank you for everything, Kiran." She gratefully smiled at him. "I promise, I will not forget the words we've shared. May you be blessed with fine fortune in your own endeavors."

With that, they separated, and she made her way to the theatre Anna outlined. Though she was still uncertain about her people's future, her steps felt significantly lighter after Kiran's pledge that the Order would welcome any dragons with open arms. More than that, it was his reasoning for accepting any dragons that gave her a glimmer of renewed hope.

If there were people willing to tolerate the worst of humanity, surely accepting a dragon was not so unthinkable?


It had been quite a few years since Tanith taught a young pegasus knight one-on-one, but it still held a certain nostalgic charm. It certainly helped that she had a talented student – for the most part anyway. Princess Tana was clearly well trained, as she successfully kept pace with the deputy commander through difficult maneuvers and was capable of utilizing the agility and speed of her mount to its fullest. There was only one hang-up, which was unfortunately both the most important part of a pegasus knight and the only flaw Sigrun had always corrected in her stead.

Tana was unwilling to commit to lethal blows.

She noticed it on the first day, after ordering her to attempt a diving blow on a heavily armored dummy. The ascent and dive were more than adequately executed, but the princess held back most of her strength performing the actual thrust. Thus, what should've been a precision strike through the gaps in an armored knight's defenses became a harmless love tap that would've left Tana fatally exposed.

Tanith wrote it off as a fluke at first and simply repeated the exercise. But no matter how many times they tried it, Tana always faltered at the final execution in some form another. Sometimes she was too weak, other times the lance was poorly angled, and at one point she even dropped her weapon outright. Then, when she drew attention to the obvious problem, Tana cowered far more severely than to be expected for the level of criticism she was earning. She did her best to assure Tanith that she would double her efforts, but they could both tell how halfhearted the assertion really was.

Over the next few days, she had her protégé attempt other strikes of varying lethality. Tana proved to be far less reserved about embedding her lance into a limb, but still wavered without fail when trying to impale a critical point. After repeated observations of Tana's arms quivering as she gripped the lance or a brief flash of panic on her face as she made the final approach, Tanith could only draw one conclusion that would explain her behavior: the Frelian princess had very recently killed for the first time.

That realization was a sobering one; she had often witnessed similar developments in the Holy Guard's fresh recruits. Unfortunately for Tana, between herself and commander Sigrun, she was the stiffer and less personable of the two. If guilt was plaguing a pegasus knight to the point of affecting her performance, it was motherly Sigrun who would take them aside and share unknown words of console and relief. Tanith was not privy to what was said behind closed doors and as such was rather lost on how to deal with Tana's issues. The issue could not be put off forever, so she resolved to address the matter one way or another by the end of the day's session.

At present, she watched Tana attempt a series of multi-directional strikes designed to wear down and confuse the opponent to the point they could be outflanked and stabbed in the back. As usual, she managed the nonlethal cuts without any difficulty, but when she glided over the dummy's head and prepared to attack, she locked up for a second before weakly poking her spear forward. That last-second hesitation rendered the whole sequence a waste; in a real battle, she'd have been dead before even getting the chance to make that half-hearted hit.

Disappointed, but not without sympathy, Tanith shook her head and called out to her pupil. "That's enough, Tana. There'll be no more drills today." Though the princess faced away from her, Tanith could tell by the rapid tightening of her shoulders how ashamed and embarrassed she was. Limply, she directed her pegasus over with her head hanging. She was fortunate they were alone; Tanith had insisted she be able to train Tana away from the usual field so she could evaluate the Frelian's abilities with no outside distractions or input.

"My apologies, Lady Tanith." She feebly said. "I'm well aware of my poor performance under your wing thus far. I must intensify my efforts in training if I'm –"

"No." Tanith cut her off. "Further training is not what you need. We will address the root of this problem here and now." Tana, seemingly with an idea of what she meant, tried to duck her head away and avoid eye contact. "Look at me, Tana." She sternly ordered. Reluctantly, the Frelian did so, revealing the apprehension in her eyes. "You killed someone for the first time very recently, didn't you?" It may have been phrased as a question, but Tanith's tone left no room for doubt about what the answer would be.

"…Yes." Tana uncomfortably confessed. "It was the night just before you were summoned. I…" She tightened her fist, "I drove my lance through his throat." Her voice dipped to a whisper and started cracking slightly towards the end of her confession. "How long did it take you to realize?" She questioned with relatively normal stability and volume.

"Longer than usual." She conceded. "For however affected you've been in drills, you are remarkably composed in everyday affairs. I have seen previous knights under my command reduced to crying fits of hysterics in their normal life. In that regard, at least, you have handled the matter better than most."

Tanith's anecdote earned a bitter laugh from Tana. "I assure you, I'm the last person deserving of praise in that regard. Gods, you should've seen me that night, hunched over a table in the dining hall sobbing my heart out. I was convinced I was both an inhuman monster and a gutless coward."

"Oh?" Tanith perplexedly intoned. "Excepting Amelia's wild accusations, whose inflicted harm is now readily apparent, you seemed to be of sound mind when I met you only a handful of hours later."

Tana warmly smiled. "We have Kiran to thank for that. He put some sense into me, helped me realize that I'm no different from every other soul that took up arms. I'd wager even you had your fair share of troubles when you first ended a life, Lady Tanith." Tanith made a noncommittal noise in response. As she prepared to continue, Tana's smile faltered and her face darkened. "Of course, even if I can live with what I did, doing it again is another matter entirely. I know they're just mannequins, but I…I can't help but see him when it comes time to make the kill."

Tana didn't realize it, but by pointing out Tanith was once a first timer herself, she got her thinking about how she had gotten over it all those years ago. Sigrun hadn't been commander yet, and Tanith was too proud and distant from the one at the time to seek her help, so she'd pushed through the problem on her own.

"You are correct in your assessment – I did indeed have difficulties after I took my first life." Tanith's eyes took on a distant look. "I have not thought of those days in a long time. For all my responsibilities, consoling those with a guilty conscience was never one of them. As such, I have not had to consider surmounting this issue in many years."

"So…how did you do it?" Tana carefully asked.

"I conquered my hesitation and fear by recalling what inspired me to mount a pegasus in the first place. My love for Begnion, my adoration for the Apostle, my pride in our motherland's strength…" She ceased her reminiscing and reached out to grasp Tana's shoulder. "Think, Tana. Why do you choose to remain in Askr? Before that, why did you choose to bear arms? What drove you to continue training, day after day? What were you trying to achieve?"

Tana went silent as she contemplated her motivation, her attention turned away from the world at large. "…I wanted to be more than a sheltered, pampered princess." She finally revealed. "I didn't want to be sitting in the castle while my brother and subjects risked their lives for Frelia. When my childhood bodyguard, Syrene, was promoted to a pegasus knight, I demanded to my father that he let me train as one under her." She wistfully chuckled and shook her head. "I think he only granted my request because he thought it wouldn't lead to anything. Gods, he and mother must be worried sick right now…" Her eyes took on a sentimental glint. "I learned so much from Syrene: how to be strong and proud from astride a pegasus, how to be gracious and kind on my own two feet…I can't believe that night made me start to forget all of that."

"Formalize your thoughts, Tana." Tanith instructed her. "Give those feelings a definite form you can call upon when your fear makes you want to hold back."

Tana tilted her head down to gaze at her lance. "I'm holding this because I wanted the strength to protect what matters." A proud smile began growing on her face. "I'm here today because I want to do my part to safeguard Frelia's freedom and defend my new friends in the Order, like Maria and Kiran."

"An excellent rationale." Tanith praised her. "Now do it."

Tana blinked in surprise at her. "B-beg pardon?"

"Perform a falcon dive." She bluntly instructed. "Hold onto that motivation and use it to overcome the fear that was restraining you before. Where your mind was once hampering your ability, it will now empower you."

An image of doubt flashed across Tana's face before being quickly quashed and replaced with a determined expression. "Right!"

She grabbed her pegasus' reins and began going through the same motions she had on their first day together. She rose to a suitable altitude and put her steed in a dive, using gravity to pick up speed and empower the force of her blow. Whereas in the past Tana's commitment faltered as she approached the training dummy, here her aggressive posture tightened with steely conviction. Without hesitation, she drove her lance through the dummy's collarbone, pulling on the reins as she did so to transfer her downward momentum forward.

The result was her target being ripped from its static position and thrown backwards onto the ground, its frame shattered by the force of Tana's blow. A hefty tug pulled her weapon from its embedment in the dummy, leaving Tana to gape at her handiwork.

For a moment, Tanith feared she was about to relapse when Tana began gleaming with a brilliant smile. "I did it…" She breathed. "I really did it!" She turned her adoration towards Tanith. "It was just like you said, ma'am! I was starting to remember the man I killed, but then I envisioned everything I'm fighting for and found the strength to push through it. I'm indebted to you for your invaluable guidance, Lady Tanith!"

"Nonsense." Tanith waved her off, though not without a brush of color in her cheeks. "I have a moral and professional duty to aid you in this struggle. Debt should never play a role in such affairs. In any case," her stony composure returned, "this matter is far from settled. You must repeat your success many times over until it becomes second nature. In battle, there is scarcely time for a mental pep talk."

Tanith's warning sapped some wind from Tana's sails, but she didn't let herself become disheartened. "Yes, of course. Practice makes perfect, after all. I must ensure I don't waver at a crucial moment."

"Indeed." Tanith concurred. "However," a miniscule grin formed from her lips, "I'm afraid I already declared there would be no further drilling today. Furthermore, I must present Kiran with a report of our progress as soon as possible. It would seem I've no choice but to set you free for the rest of the day."

Tana quickly caught on and let her face contort into an expression of mock remorse. "My, that is a shame. How auspicious that your hand has been forced just as I achieved such a grand success."

"Do not anticipate such circumstances in the future." Tanith warned. "I don't intend to be caught flat-footed like this again. And before you revel in your newfound leisure, return my steed to the stables. Then you may do as you please." Her order was punctuated with a swift dismount.

Tana accepted her words with a gentle smile. "Of course. Once again, thank you, Lady Tanith. I truly don't know what I'd have done without you. Please, give Kiran my best regards when you see him."

Tana dismounted Achaeus and took the reins of both him and Tanith's pegasus. With a cheery wave, she made her way back towards the stables, leaving Tanith alone to begin trekking towards Kiran's tower. It also left her free to ruminate on how she'd handled her Frelian student.

Goddess, if the Holy Guard could see me now… she admonished herself. Imagine, the 'Great Demon' being so soft as to give her subordinate half a day off.

But then, she recalled several of the recruits Sigrun spoke with having a few days' leave after their talk. If a method was proven effective, who could fault her for utilizing it? Besides, Tana was a sweet, gentle girl. In her state, overly negative reinforcement could very well have done more harm than good. Especially now that this minor setback had been resolved, Tanith had high hopes for her. Despite her cheery, optimistic nature, she clearly had talent and grit in her veins.

Yes, Tana has the makings of a fine soldier regardless of her otherwise soft heart. She is just like… Tanith's step faintly faltered as she realized the direction her assessment was taking. …just like Marcia.

Her eyes slightly dipped in regret at the idea. She'd had high hopes for the pinkette before she up and deserted about a week before Tanith was summoned. The sprightly pegasus knight had always been a model soldier, fearless and honorable in the face of even the cruelest of missions. When Tanith found that letter of resignation on her desk, her fury was tempered by a crushing disappointment – mostly in her subordinate, with an iota reserved for herself. Marcia had not seen fit to disclose what caused her to take off, but Tanith couldn't fully shake the sinking feeling she was somehow at fault. She and Marcia were polar opposites in personality and it was not impossible to imagine that the younger girl had grown sick of chafing under her harsh, thankless command, especially in contrast to Sigrun's more genial approach.

Perhaps that was what caused her to be unnaturally courteous and reward Tana's success. Perhaps, with the loss of Marcia fresh in her mind, she wanted to avoid alienating another promising young pegasus knight with her rough disposition.

Such thoughts, about maybes and what-ifs, kept her company as she traversed the castle grounds until coming to a lone sentry at the peak of the castle's central tower. The guard gave her an expectant look, waiting for her to state her business before he'd let her pass – despite the fact she'd already told this exact guard the same explanation every day for the past several.

"I come to give Kiran an update on the status of the Order's pegasus knights." She dryly recited.

The sentry paused for a moment, as he always did, before nodding and stepping to the side to let her pass. When she entered, she found Kiran and that green-haired girl (Nino, if she wasn't mistaken) sitting in front of a chalkboard with basic math problems written on it. A surreptitious glance downward revealed an open book in Kiran's left hand: 'On the Tactical Deployment of Aerial Knights' she believed its cover read. The room itself was as well-adorned as ever, with two bookshelves filled with similarly named tomes flanking the door to his private chambers. A fairly cluttered desk sat to her right directly in front on a window that illuminated the room, while to her left sat the room's occupants in cushioned chairs. Potted flowers were placed in appropriate locations to liven up the room and provide a pleasant scent.

"Hello, Miss Tanith!" Nino happily greeted her with a wave of her chalk-holding hand.

"Hey, Tanith." Kiran's welcome was noticeably more subdued, especially in contrast to Nino's exuberance. His sagging shoulders, mildly bloodshot eyes and dark circles under his eyes were clear indicators of why his energy was lacking. "You know, people from your world have a real habit of walking in on Nino's tutoring sessions."

"I take it you're referring to Haar?" she asked with a slightly offended raise of the eyebrow.

"Yeah, he sat it on the time I taught Nino the alphabet a couple weeks back. Now here you are while I'm trying to teach her arithmetic. I didn't really mind him or you, I just think it's a weird coincidence."

She narrowed her eyes askance at the summoner. "With all due respect, sir, I would appreciate it if you'd refrain from drawing comparisons between him and myself."

He responded with a sardonic smile. "Aw, come on Tanith, he's not even really the same Haar you hate back home. Besides, you and he are one of only two pairs of people in the Order who already know each other." He shot her a mordant look. "I think there's a real connection there that you're missing out on."

She'd already gotten well used to Kiran's wit during her time in Askr, and both of them knew he was pushing the limits of what she'd put up with. "Your empty japes will do little to change my mind. I believe I can live without a lazy deadbeat influencing me. Haar's questionable loyalty aside, he's far from lacking in undesirable qualities."

"That's not fair, Miss Tanith!" Nino interrupted. "You never really met him, right? This is a chance for the two of you to get to know each other. I wish Ninian at least had an idea of who I was before being summoned so we could connect while we're here."

Nino's little aspiration got Kiran to drop his sarcastic demeanor and look at her in serious perplexion. "Wait, what? Are you saying you already know Ninian?"

"Yeah, she was travelling with Lord Eliwood when he took me in." She explained. "From there, well…a lot of things happened and we didn't really have any time to get to know one another before saying goodbye." Her voice took on a wistful tone. "I got excited when I saw her with you, but when she took a look at all of us, I could tell she had no idea who I was. I've talked to her a little since she got here, but I feel awkward knowing her when she doesn't have a clue about me."

"Damn, what a small world." He remarked. "Guess that's another angle to heroes coming from different times, huh? If you know her so well, I don't suppose you know what the deal is with her and dragons? Because, I've got to say, she really cares about dragons. Like, way more than you'd think a random travelling dancer would."

Nino looked remarkably uncomfortable for what Tanith thought was a fairly simple question. "Um, I'm sorry, but…that isn't really for me to say."

Both her and Kiran were surprised by the unusually dodgy answer; Tanith didn't realize Ninian even had any connection to dragons, let alone one Nino would think was worth keeping secret. "Well, alright." He conceded. "If it's that big a deal, Ninian must be keeping it under wraps for a reason. You've all got rights to privacy and I'm not going to run around dragging out everyone's deepest secrets." With that topic settled, Kiran seemed to finally remember it was Tanith's presence that set the conversation off in the first place. "Right, Tanith, sorry about that, we got a little off track there. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, as if I don't already know?"

Tanith bit back an annoyed sigh – Kiran repeatedly insisted he didn't need daily reports on the dealings of 'all two pegasus knights'. Tanith knew the value of such reports from experience (even if they did usually detail hundreds of times the information they did now), so she'd persist in delivering them despite his protests. "You'll be happy to know I have genuine progress to report this time." She let a small glimmer of pride show in her expression. "Tana has overcome the last of her personal troubles and sends you her best regards." She refrained from explicitly saying what said troubles were due to Nino's presence; she doubted Tana wanted her issues to be known to everyone in the Order.

"Whoa, really?!" Kiran exclaimed with optimistic disbelief. "That's great news! I've got to be honest, I was hoping you'd have this kind of effect. Glad to see everything ended up working out in the end."

"Personal troubles?" Nino asked. "Has Princess Tana been dealing with something this whole time?"

Kiran nervously flickered his eyes over to the young girl; it appeared he was no more eager to share the sordid details than Tanith was. "Uh, you see, that raid on the fort was Tana's first ever real fight, so she, you know…" His explanation petered out as he approached the specifics.

Fortunately for Tana (and unfortunately for Nino herself), she was experienced beyond her years and understood Kiran's meaning almost immediately. "Oh, yeah, I get what you mean. I remember what it was like after my first real mission with Sonia…" Her demeanor became notably more frightful as she started reminiscing. Tanith knew next to nothing about the girl beyond her name and the fact that she was apparently undereducated, so she couldn't fathom a guess as to who 'Sonia' was or why a memory of her would make Nino so scared.

Tanith awkwardly cleared her throat. "In any case, these matters are in the past for all those involved. There's no need to linger on long-surpassed trials."

"Y-yeah, you're right, Miss Tanith." Nino accepted, her disposition returning to its normal cheer.

"Geez, we got sidetracked again." Kiran griped while running his hand through his hair. "That was an admittedly useful report, but was there anything else to it? Come to think of it, aren't you here kind of early?"

"All I have left to disclose is that Tana's training for the time being will emphasize ensuring she can consistently reproduce today's results. And yes, I am here far earlier than normal – I saw fit to end our training session before the usual time."

Kiran took on a thoughtful mien in response to her debriefing. "Your timing actually might be pretty convenient…" He turned to Nino. "Nino, how long have we been up here? Like, three hours?"

"Yeah, I think about that long." She confirmed.

"And I was studying for another three hours before you showed up. I think it's about time we get out of here and I make the rounds checking in on everyone. But first," he held up a finger, "finish these exercises on the blackboard. There are a few things I want to talk to Tanith about; while we head out and talk, do the best you can with the last of these problems. Then you can do whatever you want with the rest of the day. I'll grade them on my own and go over the results with you the next time we get together."

"Okay, Kiran!" Nino accepted his instructions with no fuss. Tanith wasn't aware she had anything further to discuss with him and was caught somewhat off-guard by his decision.

Kiran ear-marked the page in his book and set it down on his desk while Nino set her attention to the basic equations left for her. "Alright, let's head out." He told her, already making for the door.

Wordlessly, she followed after him into the stairwell and mimicked his courteous nod to his guard. When a few steps had taken them safely out of earshot, she renewed their discussion. "I didn't believe there was anything left for us to confer about."

"There's none of the usual stuff, you're right about that." He admitted. "For as much as I've bellyached about it, you coming in to give me daily reports has given me an idea and I want to bounce it off of you."

"Let's hear it, then." She curiously requested.

"I've known for a while now that at some point or another, there's going to be a lot of heroes with a lot of overlapping skillsets. We'll have a lot of pegasus knights, a lot of clerics, a lot of cavaliers, et cetera. There'll be way too many people for me or Anna to directly handle and too many people to give constructive input into strategy. Since you showed up, you've more or less been Tana's boss, overseeing her training and giving me updates on how she's doing. So, it got me thinking: why not do that for every type of hero? Have one of each classification who's in a higher position of authority than the others and who represents their interests during strategy meetings. I can order everyone to follow a basic training blueprint, but every skillset obviously needs specific instruction that this one person could draw up and have their subordinates follow. It'd delegate authority and ensure our command isn't too centralized on Anna and I." He finished his proposal and expectantly looked at her. "Well? What do you think?"

She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts before responding. "The idea certainly has merit. After all, every military has officers to command the enlisted. However," she met his eyes with a critical look, "the capabilities of heroes varies wildly. You risk poor coordination and insubordination if you have to uproot the command structure every time someone more competent turns up. You may assign otherwise common soldier to a leadership role when he is the best available choice, but it behooves you to replace him if a general in the same field of expertise appears."

Kiran painfully winced and avoided her gaze. "Yeah, that thought did cross my mind. Only work around I could think of was putting off committing anyone to the position full time until I was sure nobody worth replacing them would show up. I mean, I could have you be permanent leader of the pegasus knights right now – I seriously doubt anybody significantly better than the second-in-command of an imperial pegasus knight corps will ever be around. I bet even your old boss wouldn't be that much of an improvement. But, you know," his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "I wouldn't want Odin or Nino as a long-term leader of all our mages."

Tanith carefully considered his rebuttal and lightly brushed her chin in thought. "I must admit Sigrun would only hold a sizable advantage on a wide strategic scale, which is likely to forever be beyond the Order's capabilities. On that note, I have to warn you: Begnion's tactics revolve around its overwhelming numbers and as such I fear my experiences will be of limited use." When he made no comment, she let out a quiet, resigned sigh.

"If you are insistent, I personally have no objections to accepting the position you propose. But I must ask that you seek my counsel, and that of the other Askrans, before you extend this request to anybody else. There are many qualities to be considered in a candidate; success in battle does not directly translate to inspirational leadership outside of it." Though she refrained from saying so out loud, she was directly thinking of Haar with her warning; as competent a warrior he may be, the thought of impressionable young wyvern riders looking up to that indolent slacker as an example to follow made her want to run onto her sword.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm in no rush to fill every niche." He assured her. "That's why I'm just spit balling the idea to you. I know things like this require a delicate touch."

"It's reassuring to see you're taking this all seriously." She lauded him. "But perhaps you ought to reserve some of that delicate touch for yourself."

His bewildered look showed he clearly had no inkling of what she meant. "I'm sorry, what?"

"If I may be so blunt, you look terrible, sir." She made a small show of gliding her eyes over his body, her demeanor becoming increasingly displeased as she did so. "A vigorous work ethic is to be commended, but it is possible to push yourself too far. You look as though a stiff breeze would knock you over. If I think you should get some rest, have no fear that anyone else will think less of you for taking a small break."

She expected him to get defensive or perhaps even proud and insist that he could continue on as he was, so she was caught rather flat-footed to see his face contort in bitterness and frustration. "Goddammit, I'm trying!" He sourly hissed. "I've barely been able to sleep for over a week now. I thought exercise might help, but all that's been doing is make me painfully sore whenever I wake up from what little sleep I get!" He furiously gripped a handful of his hair. "Fuck, if I were back home, I could just take a pill to knock me out, but the only thing like that here is a staff and magic doesn't work on me!" He realized he'd been angrily ranting and embarrassedly tried to smooth his ruffled disposition. "…Sorry about that. I'm just, you know, a little on edge these days."

She was unprepared for his outburst, but hardly offended by it. "That's a mild way of putting it. I know I'm not exactly the most personable woman you've ever met, but if it would help, I'd be willing to listen to what troubles you."

He scoffed and exasperatedly shook his head at her. "The short version is everything; your report about Tana is the first real good news I've had in days. If you want something specific," He tightly pinched the bridge of his nose, "that Jane Doe lunatic is a good place to start. It feels like she only shows up to every third meal and just mutters bloody murder under her breath the whole time. And we still don't have a new target in sight so we can have a battle to calm her down. There's got to be some way for the Order to help the war effort when we're not carrying out a specific plan, I just can't think of what it is! At this rate, I'll have to directly bring her food so she doesn't starve and I can make sure she doesn't completely snap and go on a killing spree!"

That was quite a tirade. It wasn't like she didn't empathize – the ebony-haired girl in question sent shivers down her spine, but Tanith at least didn't have to think about her when she was out of sight. If she'd had to worry about appeasing a blood-thirsty maniac like that during her first weeks of command in the Holy Guard, she'd probably have had several more bags under her eyes too.

"I'm afraid I can do little but act as an outlet for your grievances." She sympathetically yielded. "I've never dealt with anyone like her before, nor have I had to make do with as few troops as the Order has, so I've scarce idea for how to solve either of the issues you've presented."

He heaved a tired sigh and drooped his head. "Don't worry about it. Just raging against the heavens a little has made me feel better. It's good that I got some of that out of my system before trying to brighten everyone's day with a friendly visit." He tilted his head to shoot her a weary grin. "Thanks for listening to me bitch and moan, Tanith. I know it can't be any fun to be used as a venting outlet."

She let out a sharp bark of laughter and met his suddenly confused gaze with a witty look. "Trust me, Kiran, I'm intimately familiar with the catharsis of loosing one's frustrations. Goddess knows I've saddled Sigrun with my fair share of heated rants about the Holy Guard's fresh recruits."

He began chuckling and, at last, released some of the tension in his shoulders. "We'll have to bellyache to each other when I start summoning more rookie schmucks to send your way."

"That we shall." She let her grin widen by a fraction of an inch. In one day, she'd revitalized the spirits of two destitute comrades with naught but her words. The peculiar sense of satisfaction offered by her deeds was an unfamiliar feeling, but one she wouldn't mind learning to know better in her time here.


Her head hurt.

She couldn't recall a time when it hadn't. Even feeling the warm splash of blood on her face merely reduced the pain to a dull throb, and only for a brief time. But it didn't bother her most of the time. She was finally strong, and that meant she could rise above a pathetic headache. There was only thing that made the pain unbearable, made her collapse to her knees in agony. Every time she heard that woman's voice in her head, it made her nearly as weak as she'd been before the sword showed her how wield true strength.

I don't want you to be weak, Mareeta. I'll always love you like any mother would love her daughter.

She hissed in equal parts fury and torment as she collapsed from her bed, clutching her skull in a futile attempt to stem the tide of anguish. The woman's voice had been an increasingly frequent hindrance ever since she came to this land. She could barely remember anything it said; the mere sound of it was enough to drive her mad and render the actual words incomprehensible. Only gripping the hilt of her blade tight enough to make her wrists throb brought any relief. The woman's frequent, treacherous whispers had made it difficult to so much as discern the passage of time. Lately, she could scarcely tell day from night.

The sound of footsteps in the distance broke through the aching haze and got her to scramble into a crouching posture and glare at the door with wide eyes and her sword at the ready. She was used to hearing a stranger approach her domain, but they usually wandered off soon after reaching her door. This time was different – whoever it was came right up to her room before going silent. She prepared to lunge forward and bury her blade in whoever was on the other side when their dulled, somewhat familiar voice came through the door.

"Jane? Are you in there? I've brought food for you. You haven't been to a meal in like two days and I wanted to make sure you don't starve to death."

Jane…? That was her name…right? No, there was…something else. Something she'd forgotten long ago….

How could you forget your own name, Mareeta? It was the first thing you told me about yourself the day I saved you from those slavers. You were so sweet and polite back then…

She savagely growled and banged her fist into the stone floor. Damn that bitch, whoever she was! If she ever found that woman, she'd make sure her death would be excruciating beyond compare!

"Jane?!" The man called out again, concern in his voice. "Are you alright? I'm coming in!"

When he pushed through the door and revealed himself, she finally began to remember. The white robe, the strange object on his belt, his voice…he was the one who brought her here to begin with. He was the one who decided to call her Jane, and apparently also decided to bring her a tray of food.

"You okay? You didn't say anything and then I heard that loud noise…" He asked about her condition, but she could plainly see how he averted his eyes, how discomfort dominated every facet of his being. She could see the fear he felt just being near her.

"I'm fine…" She answered, her displeasure growing by the second. Along with every other memory, she remembered his promise to deliver fresh prey to her. A promise he had reneged on! She had yet to sharpen her sword on anyone's bones her entire time here! Who was he, who cowered in her presence, to deny her the quarry she was rightly owed?!

"If you say so…" He remarked, disbelief plain in his voice. "Well, like I said, I brought you some leftovers from breakfast. As far as I can tell, you haven't eaten anything in a couple days." He set the tray on a dresser in the corner.

She admittedly couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. However, any gratitude she may have felt for his delivery was far outweighed by her indignant rage at his treachery. "I don't need food…" she rose to her feet, her dominant hand still wrapped taut around her blade's handle. "I need a sharpened body to draw fresh blood from!" In a flash, she pounced forward and locked her free hand around his throat, pinning him against the door that slammed shut from her maneuver. He futilely grappled with her wrist and choked out a few pained gasps. It was pathetic; even as malnourished as she was, he was no match for her.

"Unfortunately," she viciously seethed, "you haven't given me any prey…so I'll take what I need!" With a manic grin, she lifted her blade to rest its tip against his heart, taking a moment to revel in the sheer terror that poured off of him. Using only the slightest bit of effort, she would finally have the slaughter she longed for!

How could you, Mareeta? Have you really forgotten why you took up the blade in the first place?

No! She wouldn't be denied any longer! That voice may have crippled her before, but not this time! Despite the splitting torment in her head, she held firm, baring her teeth to deal with the pain. She drew her arm back and, at long last, drove it forw–

"My sword is a tool of justice! I swear, mother, I'll use it to protect the innocent, the weak, and all that I hold dear!"

She froze with her blade less than an inch from Kiran's skin. That voice wasn't the woman…i-it was her voice. But, w-when had she…?

Do you remember now, Mareeta? What all those years of training were for?

She had spent years learning…how to keep people safe…right? Abruptly, she realized the position she was in, with the defenseless Kiran an instant away from being killed by her hand. Dear Gods, w-what was she doing?!

Why do you still have that horrid sword at his chest? Don't you think that poor man is scared enough as is?

"No, I-I'm sorry!" Horrified, she released her captive and stumbled backwards onto the ground, dropping her sword in the process. Even more appalling than her assault of Kiran was the realization of whose voice she'd been hearing. How in the name of the Gods had she possibly forgotten the sound of her own mother's voice?!

For the first time in what felt like ages, she felt tears streak down her cheeks. "I-I didn't mean to mother, I swear!" She hysterically sobbed, digging her nails into her scalp. "I didn't want anything like this to happen!" Even with her sudden burst of clarity, most of her identity was still obscured by a dark shroud. She could recall a few flashes of faces, only a handful of which had names attached, but she still couldn't hold onto any solid details about herself. All she could feel was an overwhelming sense of guilt and terror.

The quiet creak of an oaken door caused her head to snap back up. She saw Kiran grasping the doorknob, his face an indiscernible mix of fear, confusion, pity, and who knew what else. Was he trying to leave her alone, at the mercy of the demons that tormented her? Would he really be so cruel as to abandon her in this dire hour?

Of course he's trying to leave. Have you already forgotten what you did to him? You've scared and hurt him, Mareeta.

"No, please!" She desperately pleaded with her arm outstretched. "I beg of you, don't leave me! I won't kill you, I-I promise!" She couldn't bear to be alone again. She could vaguely remember always losing everything because she'd been left behind – by father, by mother and Leif…

"Jane?" He cautiously called out, his voice hoarse and raw from her earlier strangulation. "What's wrong with you? Why do you think your mom is here?" He was keeping his distance and hugging the corner so he could make a quick exit if necessary, but he was still here with her.

"Not my name…" She choked out, weakly shaking her head. "I'm not Jane…" Though she knew his moniker for her to be false, she failed to grasp her true name. Even as her mother's voice kept addressing her with it, the name always slipped like oil through her fingers.

"Then who are you? What was the name your parents gave you?"

"I-I can't remember!" She distraughtly protested. "Father and mother…all my loved ones…they're all obscured by darkness! There's nothing! What's happened to me?!" In an increasingly frenzied panic, she desperately swung her arms about in a futile attempt to get any kind of bearing. Then, as if she'd been dunked in a bucket of icy water, the truth was revealed to her, clear as crystal:

She was becoming weak again.

Instantly, the cacophony of blurred faces and muffled voices dissipated, a sure sign she'd successfully cast off the chains that were trying to bind her once more. After all, she had grown as strong as she was because she refused to let herself be held back by a dependence on others. Her sense of triumph was such that she barely even noticed that her hand was once again coiled around the familiar hilt of her sword. Once more, she felt the satisfying rush of bloodlust give purpose to her otherwise meaningless existence.

"Jane…?"

Was he still here? Come to think of it, she couldn't even remember why he'd stopped by in the first place. "What do you want?" She impatiently inquired. If he hadn't brought a victim for her to eviscerate, he was only wasting her time.

Annoyingly, he didn't answer her right away. He just stared at her for what felt like several minutes with a conflicted look on his face. "…Nothing." He finally responded with a bizarre sense of resignation. "I just brought you food so you don't starve."

She gave a small grunt of acknowledgement as he gestured to the tray on her dresser. As much as it irked her to be grateful to him for anything, she was admittedly running on empty and could use the nourishment. However, there was a much more pressing issue she needed to be updated on. "And what of my prey?" She demanded. "How much longer will you make me wait?"

He stopped and tensed his shoulders just as he was twisting the doorknob to leave. "We still haven't found a suitable target to attack. Last I heard from Anna, the latest reports from her spies suggest there was some kind of big shakeup in the Emblian army. We don't want to risk stumbling onto a mass of troops while everything is being shuffled around." He turned his head back ever so slightly to look at her. "It's like Alfonse said: even you can't hope to take on a whole army and live to revel in it."

He didn't wait for her to respond before rushing out the door. She grumbled in dissatisfaction but made no move to follow him – she would wait for now, but her patience had its limits. Now alone, she walked over to the tray he left behind and picked up a glazed cinnamon roll. She spared it no thought before bringing it up to take a massive bite. It tasted like ash in her mouth, just like everything she'd ever eaten. It didn't matter; so long as it gave her the strength to brandish her blade, she didn't need anything else.

I remember how much you loved the pastries in Fiana. You used to get so excited when the baker made apple fritters…

She let out a low growl of frustration and pressed her free hand against her forehead in a fruitless attempt to stem the sudden waves of pain rolling through her skull. She had no idea who that woman was, but if she dared to keep invading her thoughts, there would be hell to pay…


Libra was a pious man and as such was devoted to Naga's teachings even when he found himself in a world devoid of her guidance. Though he could no longer be certain that his prayers reached her ears, he still strived to follow her doctrine of compassion and mercy to the weak and wounded. As of late, that meant healing injured Askran troops and acting as a guide to the young Macedonian princess he found under his wing.

Maria proved to be a diligent charge, though her obstinance occasionally made her closed off to alternate approaches when her first attempts failed her. In spite of her energy and drive, he could detect an undercurrent of unease and anxiety coloring her behavior. He could certainly fathom why – the poor girl's childhood had taken a dark turn before her arrival in Askr, and he doubted anyone saw struggling to save dying soldiers as a particularly calming job. He knew very well the pain of losing one's family at a tender young age and was resolved to offer whatever solace he could.

All the same, he never pushed or prodded her into opening up about her woes. He believed that if she wished to share anything, she would do so when the time was right and he had earned her trust. And, after a few weeks under his wing, that time had finally come. He could tell there was something on her mind the moment they got set up in the healing hall. With the way she nervously chewed her lip, or how she fidgeted with the hem of her dress and shot him restless looks when she thought he wasn't looking, he knew she was steeling herself to reveal something to him.

At last, only a couple hours after they began working, he found her waiting behind him when he finished tending to a poor man who'd been shot through the lung with an arrow a few days prior. "Um, Father Libra," she hesitantly began, "can I talk to you about something?" She shyly ducked her head before quietly adding, "In private, please?"

"Of course, my child." He warmly answered. "I will always be happy to lend you my ear." Gently, he guided her away from the occupied beds and towards the storage closet in the back. Racks filled with vulneraries, concoctions and varying types of healing staves adorned the walls. A table and several chairs sat in the middle of it all, to be used for inspections of the different healing apparatus throughout the room. He and Maria sat across from each other in silence as he patiently waited for her to work up the nerve to open up to him.

"I-I don't really know how to ask this," she uncertainly started, "but were you…have you ever been scared of being a priest? I mean, like, afraid to go into a fight and do your part to heal everyone. Not now obviously, since, you know, you have your axe, but if there was ever a point where you didn't, then did you maybe…" Her question devolved into more of a ramble before slowing down and petering out entirely.

It was not an unusual question, especially as most healers were not trained in combative arts as he was. Though, he did think she seemed remarkably on edge – some degree of unease was to be expected, but she was shrinking with a bizarre mixture of shame and anxiety. "Naturally, there have indeed been times where I admit I was afraid to do my duty. I doubt I shall ever meet a soul that didn't feel at least a twinge of fear when facing the possibility of death. Feelings of horror in trying circumstances are nothing out of the ordinary."

"Yeah, that's more or less what Kiran said." She admitted, still nowhere close to at ease. "But if everyone feels scared, then how do you manage to go into battle anyway? It's just, when I remember my first fight, I start to freeze up…" she guiltily ducked her head and avoided his gaze. "No matter how important I know it is to help out, the thought of going through all that again just makes me want to crawl away and hide somewhere safe." Wet streaks began falling down her cheeks as she started sniffling and choking up. "I'm being a coward! Minerva and Michalis wouldn't do anything like this! They'd be strong like true Macedonians and ride out to face any danger, no matter how scary it was!" She ceased her frantic tears upon feeling his calming hands on her shoulder. Libra had stepped around the table and kneeled to be at eye level with the princess.

"You are no coward, Maria." He tenderly assured her. "A coward would not feel such distressing guilt over their perfectly natural concerns – he would use them as an excuse to shirk his responsibilities. Do not doubt that your blood carries the strength of your forefathers, for I can scarcely recall any Ylissean clerics that have endured as much as you at such a tender age." His encouragement did some good, as her eyes ran dry and he felt a good deal of remorse release from her.

"Now, I believe you asked me how I overcame my reservations about healing in active combat?" She gave an almost imperceptible nod. "In short, I found strength in the conviction of my faith. I became a man of the cloth to spread the will of Her Holiness, the Divine Dragon Naga, and I have always held firm in my conviction that Her guidance would see me and my cause through. No matter how dark the days, Naga has always had a way of delivering a ray of hope. Even in this foreign land, I do not forsake my belief that She is watching over us and the entire Order, ensuring that whatever path we take will be blessed by Her." He was rather proud of the verbal reaffirmation of his faith, but it seemed to do little good for Maria. If anything, she almost looked more despondent than before.

"T-that sounds great, Father Libra." She dispiritedly remarked. "But, even though I'm a cleric, I've never been all that religious. Macedon doesn't shun Naga or anything, I'm just not very devout. Growing up in the royal family, it always felt like your own personal strength was way more important than praying to the gods for anything."

Libra had to admit to himself that this was a rather unorthodox problem. Ylisse was fairly theocratic – only the royal blood that bore Naga's mark was fit to rule, after all – so practically everyone was pious on some level or another. Clerics and priests especially so, given their close ties to the church. Still, he was nothing if not determined, and so resolved to bring her peace of mind some way or another.

"Faith is often thought of as exclusively related to the divine," he began, "but that is not necessarily the case. Faith is nothing more than placing your trust in a power greater than your own. Though he is no god, I have faith that Lord Chrom will be a righteous and just ruler. Do you not ceaselessly sing the praises of your elder siblings? What is that, if not faith in their strength and skill?"

Maria said nothing at first and merely stared at the table in silent contemplation. "Well," she quietly started, "I guess I do believe in Minerva and Michalis. If I had them with me, I bet I could take on anything! But…they're not here right now. Maybe Naga can take care of you across worlds, but my big siblings are only human." She began to grow even more dejected from her musing. Libra prepared to try and lift her spirits again when her eyes widened in realization.

"Then again…even if they aren't here, everyone else is! I know you, Princess Tana, Kiran, Sir Haar and the others are really strong too. Maybe not as strong as Minerva or Michalis, but definitely stronger than I am! So if faith is believing in something stronger than yourself," she met his anticipative gaze with a wide smile, "I can just have faith in the Order! Kiran and Tana already protected me once, so I can count on them to do it again. And heroes like Princess Ayra or Lady Tanith might not be any fun, but I know they'll do everything they can to keep us all safe too." At last, he saw light return to her troubled eyes. "I got so caught up in being scared for myself that I forgot I'm part of something a lot bigger. Thanks so much for your help, Father Libra!"

He couldn't help but chuckle at her gratitude, earning him a confused look. "Why are you thanking me? Your revelation was reached through your own will. I may have guided you towards a path to enlightenment, but it was you who ultimately found and chose to walk it. Even as you embrace the fact that you can rely on others for protection and direction, never forget the power that lies within yourself."

She gaped at him in stupefaction before determinately clenching her small hands and displaying a resolute expression. "Right! I was strong enough to go out and fight once, so I'm strong enough to do it again! Everyone's counting on us to keep them healthy, so we'll count on them to keep us safe! Come on, Libra, we've got soldiers to heal!" He noticed she dropped his 'Father' epithet, but was in no rush to correct her – if it was a sign of their increased closeness and trust, he gladly welcomed the more casual means of address.

He followed her exuberant lead back into the healing all proper and began checking on the troops' conditions again. Scarcely ten minutes later, when he was purifying the fresh stump of a poor man who'd lost his arm to an axe, he heard a commotion coming from the hall outside.

"Odin, for the last time, Kaze is not planning to slit your throat! If he wanted you dead, he'd have done it the day you showed up! He hasn't made a fuss about your countries' feud since your first night here, so why are you still so hung up on it?" That voice sounded like Kiran, and if his words were any indication, Libra expected to hear Odin in response.

"You don't know his kind like I do! Those Hoshidian ninjas are a tricky lot. They disguise their fell purpose with honeyed words and placating gestures. There is no more inglorious an end for a sovereign sorcerer like myself than to be gutted under somniferous captivity!" Sure enough, Odin's theatric, though somewhat muffled voice boomed through the doors. Judging by their growing volume, the duo were growing closer. Their increasing proximity was well noticed by the hall's occupants, who all had their attention fixed on the doors.

"If you're that worried about it, then rest assured that we'll know who to put up on the gallows if you turn up murdered in your sleep." The entryway opened to reveal the summoner and mage, the former of which quickly began scanning the room. A certain sense of awe dawned on recovering soldiers and rank-and-file clerics as they recognized their 'Great Hero's' presence. When Kiran noticed Libra, his face visibly lit up in recognition. "Libra, you're here! Good, I wasted enough time trying to track down Odin. Listen, I need to talk to the two of you right now."

In case his words weren't grave enough, Kiran's expression and tone well conveyed his sense of urgency. A closer look revealed that his throat was blemished an ugly shade of red, as if rubbed raw. Quickly, though no less gracefully, Libra straightened up. "Judging by the gravitas in your voice, I take it this is a sensitive matter?"

"Oh yeah," He confirmed with a swift nod. "this has to be kept way on the down low. Where can we talk away from prying eyes?"

Libra stifled his mild sense of frustration – it seemed he was set for another discussion in the supply closet. "We've a storage room far in the back. With a silencing spell on the walls, it should serve us fine."

He began to twist around to guide them when Maria's voice rang out from beside one of the beds. "Kiran? What's going on?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, Maria." Kiran hurriedly assured her, his attention on Libra. "Just stay out here and keep doing what you're doing."

"But what if I can help? I should come too, just in case–" her words caught in her throat when Kiran turned to sternly glare at her directly.

"It's none of your concern. Just do what you're told, Maria."

Any further protest died on her tongue and she meekly bowed her head. "Yes sir."

Libra minutely raised an eyebrow at the exchange, but made no delays in taking Kiran and Odin to the storage chamber. As Odin locked the door behind them, Libra pulled a silencing staff from one of the racks and applied its effects to the four walls around them. "There. We need not fear any eavesdroppers now."

Kiran let out a relieved breath. "Great. I feel bad being so harsh with Maria, but I had to keep up my image for all the normal Askrans watching. I'll do something to make it up to her later. Now," he pulled up a chair and sat down with none of his usual slouched lackadaisicalness, "let's get down to business."

"Yeah, let's." Odin impatiently replied, taking a seat of his own across from Kiran. Libra followed suit and sat next to the skimpily dressed mage. "What is so important you had to wrest Odin Dark from his portentous ruminations?"

"Alright," he uncertainty started, "this might sound like a weird question, but…is it possible for someone to be controlled by a magic object?"

Libra narrowed his eyes in mild puzzlement. "That is indeed an unusual inquiry. One that I'm afraid I'm unable to satisfactorily answer until you provide what compelled you to ask it in the first place."

"What he said." Odin agreed. "That basic description rings a few bells, but I'll require more details before I can be certain my answer is the one intended by fate."

For a fraction of a second, Kiran shot Odin an unamused, deadpan stare, before responding. "Well, strap yourselves in while I tell the story."

He took a deep breath and began his recollection. "Okay, Jane Doe wasn't at breakfast, right? Well she hadn't been to any meals in the last like three days, so after everyone took off to do their own thing, I went to bring her some leftovers. You know, make sure she didn't starve. I get to her room and here this loud bang sound, so I throw open the door to make sure she's not under attack or anything. She wasn't, but she was hunched over on the ground clutching her head for some reason. She said she was fine when I asked, so I told her why I was there, and then all of the sudden she lunged at me, pinned me to the door by my throat and started ranting about how she'd kill me because I hadn't given her anyone to fight."

"Wait, she attacked you?!" Odin incredulously interrupted. "No offense, but how the hell did you get out of that? She doesn't strike me as the type to leave people off with warnings."

"That is the cause for the marks on your neck, is it not?" Libra made his earlier observation known. Tensely, he added, "We have all known that woman is unstable from the moment she arrived. You should not have gone off to see her without an escort."

"If you'd let me finish, maybe you'll get some answers." He impatiently rebuked them. "Yes, I know it was a really stupid idea to pay her a visit alone; I just figured that if I talked her down once at the shrine, I could do it again. Admittedly a very dumb decision, but in hindsight I think it may have been worth it. So, she's got me dead to rights – I can't get free or even call for help. She raised up her sword and I seriously thought I was about to die. And then, for no apparent reason, she gets this look of pure shock and horror on her face. And her eyes actually turned from red to silver! All of the sudden, she dropped her sword, stumbled backwards into the ground, and started crying and begging her mom to forgive her or something."

Apparently, Libra and Odin's disbelief at the sudden turn in Kiran's story was plain on their faces, as he humorlessly chucked before continuing. "Yeah, that's about how I was feeling. At that point, I was just trying to cut my losses and get the hell out of dodge. Well, she saw me try to slink off and started pleading with me not to leave. Something – maybe all the emotion in her voice, maybe how hard she was crying – convinced me to not go and hear her out. Or at least try to hear her out – she wasn't exactly coherent. I asked if she knew her name, and she started screaming about how she couldn't remember her parents, friends, or anything else. Then she really started freaking out and flailing around in a blind panic. I wanted to grab her and try to calm her down, but then…"

An unusual sense of pensive apprehension came over Kiran as he paused his tale. "Then, the tip of her finger brushed over the hilt of her sword for barely an instant, and she went stiff as a board. It was fucking freaky man; she stopped crying, stopped flailing and her face went totally blank. And I swear that the sword started glowing and giving off wisps of purple smoke the second she touched it. Her eyes went from silver back to red, she grabbed the sword entirely, and, like a switch had been flipped, she was back to her old self. The weirdest part was that she'd completely forgotten the whole thing – she couldn't remember why I was there or that she'd attacked me. She wasn't even mad anymore about not getting to kill anyone; if anything, she was just kind of mildly annoyed. I wasn't going to roll the dice again, so I basically told her we were working on it and got the hell out of there. Then I went looking for the both of you, and here we are."

His tale finally finished, Kiran leaned forward expectantly. "So, how would you describe what happened, if not the sword controlling Jane's mind? Because I refuse to believe she's some run-of-the-mill crazy anymore."

Libra couldn't help but agree with Kiran's sentiment. He painted a far darker portrait of Jane's state than his first impressions led him to believe. "Based on what you've described, I would surmise that blade to be cursed." He gravely revealed, his jaw taut with disgust. "By some foul dark magic, it holds Jane's soul captive, bidding her to whatever depraved ends were desired by its enchanter. I presume that being compelled to kill you was too much for the remnants of her conscience to bear, shaking its grip enough to produce what you witnessed."

"Unfortunately," Odin added, "from what I've heard, curses are really powerful. Not only was she still nowhere close to sane, but the slightest touch of the sword was enough to re-establish its control over her."

"Okay, so," Kiran opened his hands and impatiently shrugged, "is there any way to remove the curse? You know, put her and the sword back to normal? And give it to me straight." He fixed his hard eyes on Odin. "This is serious, so I don't want to hear any of your crap."

Libra shut his eyes and regretfully shook his head. "I know only of dark magic, not about it. Such vile sorcery is Plegia's domain, not Ylisse's. I believe some means of cleansing the sword exists, but could not begin hazarding a guess as to what it might be."

With pleading haste, Kiran immediately diverted his attention to Odin. "What about you? Aren't you supposed to be Odin Dark, the twilight traveler? Surely you know how to remove a curse, right?"

Kiran had specifically requested Odin cease his theatrics, but the way he uncomfortably wrung his hands together gave Libra the impression he'd have been sincere regardless of the summoner's chastising. "I do know some dark magic, yeah, but that's just stuff like Nosferatu spells or whipping up plagues. You know, indiscriminate magic that you use without thinking about the victim. But curses are…" he nervously swallowed, "they're personal. Curses don't just kill people, they twist a person's mind and destroy their soul. You've got to be seriously messed up in the head to make a sword do what you described to anyone who touches it."

"We've got a whole huge library in this castle. Can't you learn how curses work by doing research in there?" Kiran restlessly implored them.

Libra was as far from heartless as most could hope to be, so he too cared about Jane's plight. But he learned long ago that he could not resolve every injustice in the world. With the Order's numbers as low as they were, he had to prioritize how his talents were utilized. "Kiran," Libra sharply began, "why does this matter so much to you? Make no mistake – as a priest of Naga, I am deeply troubled by the fate that has befallen Jane. Were it possible, I would dedicate myself to long hours of study in hopes of freeing her trapped soul. But I do not have that luxury of doing that, for I can make the most difference here in the healing hall. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, however dire the straits for the latter."

Kiran did not respond immediately, choosing instead to stare at the ground as he contemplated his answer. In the silence of his indecision, Odin took the chance to voice his own thoughts. "Look, Kiran, I don't like this any more than you do, but…maybe this'll be more trouble than it's worth." Both Libra and Kiran gaped at the Nohrian in shock. "Don't get me wrong! In isolation, I'd be all for shifting my research to curses to find a way to help her. But we've got to remember the bigger picture here. We're soldiers fighting a war, and like Libra said, we've got other priorities to worry about. And, well, there's no guarantee we can keep her under control until we find a solution. What if she snaps and attacks someone again? We can't risk that her conscience will be strong enough to step in every time that happens."

"Maybe…" he defeatedly met Kiran's eyes, "maybe it's for the best to just send her back to wherever she came from. For all we know, someone there with a lot more freedom on their hands fixes her in the future."

Now that he had both their inputs, Kiran narrowed his eyes and rested his chin on locked together fingers. After nearly half a minute of silence, he finally spoke. "You didn't see and hear what I did. When she realized she couldn't remember her parents or who she was…" He tiredly shook his head. "I can't send her away. Not after seeing that. Not without at least trying first. If someone does get hurt because of her, then I'll admit she's too dangerous and do what I have to do. Or at least, I'll give it my best; I tried sending her back when she first showed up, and it didn't work. Maybe they need to be willing or something." His eyes flickered between the two of them. "I'm not going to demand you work on this full time. I know you've got important work to do and that you know best where you can do the most good. Just…whenever you've got some free time or a spare moment, could you make some kind of effort?"

"That," Libra answered with a minute, confident grin, "I can happily promise to do."

"Likewise!" Odin proudly concurred. "Though I may risk bringing calamity upon the Order by reaching even closer to the darkness, the last glimmer of light in my heart cannot ignore your heartfelt plea!" For once, Kiran looked more amused than irritated by Odin's shenanigans. Libra couldn't help but share in his mirth, for Odin's exaggeration was proof they no longer needed to deliberate on such unpleasant matters.

"You do that." Kiran amicably told him. "It shouldn't be that hard to do, right? I mean, you both already know so much about magic, so there shouldn't be too steep a learning curve."

"You're rather far off the mark." Libra informed him. "All of my knowledge is related to clerical magic, which is about as far from curses as one can get."

Odin was little better. "Like I said, I know some dark and anima magic, but curses are a really specific subset I've never touched. It'll be hard just getting into the right mindset to learn about it."

"What's the difference between it all?" Kiran frustratedly inquired. "How does magic even work? I asked Maria once a while back, but it was pretty obvious she didn't get it either. What separates clerical from anima or dark or whatever?"

Libra and Odin shared a brief look before turning back to Kiran. "To begin," Libra started, "you must first understand the existence of the magical aether."

"Odin mentioned something about that when I summoned him. What exactly is it? If it's an aether, it must be the medium through which magic propagates, right?"

"Indeed." The priest confirmed. "The magical aether permeates through all of existence. There is an ambient amount of magic flowing through it everywhere at all times. We make use of its omnipresence whenever casting any manner of spell, whatever the type. In conjunction with the aether, we utilize the natural well of magic possessed by anything with a soul, along with tools such as staves or tomes to act as conduits. Though, how these are used differs in each school of magic."

"In brief," he continued, "clerical magic is the art of connecting two wells of magic – the healer's and the patient's – across the aether through a staff." He got up and pulled a basic heal staff from a rack. "Using the gemstone as a focal point and the aether as a bridge, the healer concentrates some of their own magic and connects it to that of the person they're healing to accelerate their body's natural healing process. The level of damage healed is limited both by the severity of the injury and the staff used; the dead cannot be returned to life nor a severed limb reattached and every gem can only amplify so much magic before it becomes saturated. To heal more grievous wounds requires the use of staves with rarer and more capricious gems that are harder to properly use. For example, I am able use a Psychic staff that can heal someone across a great distance, but Maria is not yet skilled enough to do so. And some staves do not heal at all, but use the same principle of connection to apply a status to the target, such as Silence. Do note that every use of a staff scars the gem, rendering it inoperable after too much use, and that the power of a gem directly correlates to its fragility."

"This is why it's so peculiar that you can't be healed with magic. By all rights, you should have a magic well to connect to. But neither myself nor Maria can so much as feel a gentle tug from you when attempting to do so; even the aether feels entirely absent in your vicinity. If a cleric can use a staff, they would still at least feel the vestiges of the aether when attempting to cast on an inanimate object, like when I cast Silence to the walls of this room. There, I simply applied a muting effect to the aether around us and felt no other wells, and had I applied it to another human, I'd have felt some resistance from their well. But you are as if a bubble has formed in the aether. Where there should be a faint trace of magic, there is simply…nothing."

Kiran frowned for a moment before voicing his ruminations. "With all this talk of wells and the magical aether, it makes me wonder what would happen if you came to my world. There's no magic, so would you just, like, drop dead on the spot or something?"

That was certainly an interesting proposition. One which he dearly hoped to not be the case, given the wild stories of Kiran's home that he wouldn't mind verifying someday. "I cannot say for certain, obviously, but I would wager not. By all evidence, we humans do not require magic to sustain ourselves – just consider all those who are incapable of performing feats of magic. I've seen no reason to believe magic is vital to our lives, though it certainly makes things easier. To consider one counterexample, we are not manaketes, who have enormous lifespans and youth on account of their close connection to the aether. I imagine they would be severely affected by a dearth of magic given how intrinsic it is to their existence."

Kiran perplexedly scrunched up his face. "I'm sorry, 'manaketes'? What are those supposed to be?"

"Perhaps 'dragon' would be a more familiar term."

He quickly nodded in comprehension. "Okay, I got you now. Yeah, now that I think about it, dragons are supposed to live a really long time." Libra was disconcerted to see his illumination give way to frustration. "Damn, and I was hoping maybe Embla wouldn't have a leg to stand on if they tried invading my world. All the control in the world is useless if there's nobody around to enforce it, right?" He shrugged in resignation. "Ah well, let's just get back on track. When you heal someone, do you have to understand how the body is healing itself, or does that not matter?"

"Obviously, as the full details of the human body elude us, a comprehensive understanding is both impossible and unnecessary. However, ignorance of fundamental components such as the skeleton or muscles can easily hamper one's ability to heal. If you have a basic image in your head of how your patient's body should try to repair itself and what the finished product should look like, that will greatly enhance your focus and make it easier to will the patient to accept your external magic."

"Huh." Kiran remarked, arms folded across his chest. "That's pretty neat. It's like repairing a machine – knowing how the individual parts work isn't as important as knowing how they all fit together. Well, Odin, what's it like on your side of the pond? I don't even know what 'anima' is supposed to mean."

Odin made a show of dramatically clearing his throat and clenching his eyes in thought, but the sight of Kiran and Libra's cold stares when he opened them quickly sapped the wind from his sails and brought him back to earth. "Uh, for starters, 'anima' is basically another way of saying elemental – anima magic means stuff like fire and wind tomes. When you use a tome to cast anima spells, you're more or less recreating natural forces in a magical form. When the spell comes into contact with someone, their magic well causes their body and the spell to interact as if it were the real thing. You shoot a ball of magic fire at someone, it'll burn them, simple as that. We mages aren't as affected by offensive magic like this because we have greater control over our wells; we know the fire isn't wholly real and can mitigate our body's reaction to it by stifling its attempt to connect to our well."

"It's just an imitation?" Kiran perplexedly asked. "So…when I had Nino set a bunch of grass on fire, it was using the magic aether as fuel, not the air? And why do you need a tome anyway? Why not just make a fireball directly?"

"I wasn't there for whatever you're talking about, but that sounds right. In the absence of a well to resist it and with the aether around to support it, a spell will pretty much behave like the real deal. Tomes are written in special ink and filled with arcane symbols that, when you focus your own magic properly and say the right incantation, help mold the magic and stabilize its new form." Odin paused to scratch his head before answering Kiran's final question. "In theory, I guess it could be possible to cast a spell all by yourself. But you'd probably hurt yourself using up the energy it would take to do everything I described. Oh, and most tomes break as you use them too, just like staves. I've, uh, used some that don't, but those make up for it by inflicting a temporary backlash on their caster, like slowing them down or limiting access to their magic well."

"I should note," Libra cut in, "that there is a certain element of faith inherent in clerical magic not found in anima magic. As Odin said, anima spells recreate nature as it is readily observed, so an understanding of one lends itself to the other. However, we do not witness heinous wounds stitch themselves back together in a matter of minutes, as the most powerful staves are capable of doing. To make that happen requires a belief in making the seemingly impossible a reality. Most, including myself, find that easier to do with the conviction that they are aided by a higher power. Hence, most healers you see will be men and women of the cloth."

"I get what you mean." Kiran, somewhat surprisingly, concurred. "You don't see broken eggs suddenly reform into their shells either. You're restoring order and structure to a damaged part of the body. Almost like you're locally reducing the entropy…" His voice trailed off in thought, as if he'd started talking to himself. He might as well have been – Libra had no idea what he'd begun talking about. His pause lasted only a second before he shook his head and returned his focus to them. "Anyway, if I'm a vacuum of magic like Libra said, does that mean anima magic wouldn't do anything to me either?"

Both Libra and Odin were caught off guard by the question. It wasn't wildly out of the blue or anything – in fact, Libra wondered why he hadn't considered it earlier. "That certainly seems possible…" He admitted. "It would definitely be in line with what we've already seen, with both my staff and Ninian's dance having no effect on you. However, I do not consider it out of the realm of possibility that you do possess a magic well, just one that is infinitesimally small and beyond my abilities to detect. If that were the case…" He left his train of thought unfinished, too uncomfortable with the implications of his idea.

Odin, however, had no such reservations. "You'd have absolutely zero resistance to magic, Kiran. Even a basic wind spell might very well be able to sever a limb with a direct hit. If it were cut off from the aether and only had your magic to sustain it, a tiny little fireball would burn forever until it finally killed you."

Initially, Kiran merely stared at them in wide eyed shock, too stunned to form words. After a few moments, he managed to find his voice. "You're serious, aren't you? I don't suppose there's any way to test that theory? Because I'd much rather find out here than in the thick of battle."

"Don't worry, I know a way!" Odin assured him. "It'll take a little while, but I can modify a wind tome to produce a way weaker wind blade than its supposed to. It'd barely be able to give a normal person a paper cut, which means it should just draw a little blood from you, at worst."

"Great…" Kiran replied with a strange mixture of relief and bitterness. "I really needed something like this hanging over my head." He dragged his hand across his face. "Alright, we've got two out of three. What makes dark magic so special?"

Odin prepared to answer, but Libra beat him to the punch. "Dark magic," he distastefully spat, "is the perversion of nature. While anima magic replicates nature and clerical magic, as you put it, restores harmony, dark magic twists and contorts the natural order of things to wicked ends."

Odin immediately scoffed and waved him off. "Oh please, don't listen to him preach. Dark magic isn't inherently evil the way people like him would have you believe."

Kiran raised an eyebrow and Odin's unexpected defense. "You sure about that? Because a sword that turns you into what Jane is sounds pretty evil to me."

"Okay, curses are evil, sure. But dark magic in general? Nah." Odin casually reclined in his chair with his hands behind his head. "Take a Nosferatu spell for instance. It basically drains some of the target's life force by sapping their well and heals you with it. There's nothing natural about that, but I'd hardly call it evil. Whether I use that or set them on fire, I'm still trying to kill someone. A spell is just a spell – you want to talk morals, you've got to look at who's casting it."

"I was under the impression you were Odin Dark, a fell sorcerer willing to risk calamity by harnessing the powers of darkness." Libra dryly drawled. "How odd to see you defend the virtues of your craft."

"W-well, you see," Odin sputtered, "I'm just speaking for all the decent dark mages of the worlds! Obviously, I utilize the blackened strength of the abyss for my own twisted ends!"

"Sure you do." Kiran remarked, not convinced in the slightest. "Well, I guess now I get why this might be a tall order for you both. Libra's got to do the opposite of what he usually does and Odin has to take the plunge and tackle the one thing he's always avoided like the plague. Sorry about assuming this would be easy – in hindsight, that was like saying a biologist would easily learn physics just because he's a scientist."

"Uh, if you say so…" Odin uncertainly uttered. Libra wasn't sure what Kiran was talking about either, but it was a trifling detail to dwell on. "Say, one last question before we leave: why all the secrecy around this?"

"Huh? Oh, you mean the silencing and stuff. Well, loose lips sink ships, and I don't want to risk anyone letting it slip that we're trying to cure Jane. If she caught wind of this because someone blabbed while they thought she wasn't listening, then she'd definitely lose it and start killing the first people she saw. Someone put a lot of work into that curse and I can't imagine it'd just sit there while we plot to get rid of it."

"I understand." Libra said. "I will hold my peace on this matter."

"Same here." Odin agreed. "I'll make sure I don't give Jane a reason to suspect we're up to anything."

"Alright then," Kiran rose to his feet and stretched his languid limbs, "I say it's about time we got the hell out of here. My coat is going to start smelling like dusty healing staves." Libra and Odin quickly followed suit. "Thanks a ton for the lesson, guys. Knowledge is power you know, so the more I learn, the better."

"By all means, feel free to sample my esoteric wisdom whenever the mood strikes you!" Odin pompously offered.

"Indeed. I too am glad to answer whatever questions you acquire." Libra was far more composed in his proposal.

"You better believe I'll hold you to that." Kiran wittily remarked with a sly smile before heading to the door, neither blonde far behind him.

When they returned to the healing hall proper, the air once again thickened with tension and awe at Kiran's presence. By Libra's estimate, only himself, Odin and Maria were unaffected. As he passed the beds on his way to the exit, Kiran shifted his head back and forth to take in the sights of the injured soldiers around him. Near the door he paused at the bed whose occupant was being tended to by Maria. For reasons Libra couldn't ascertain, he walked up to the wounded man on the side opposite the Macedonian. The man's breath hitched in his throat at Kiran's interest in him, which, considering he was suffering from a punctured lung, made Libra grimace.

"What happened to him?" The summoner questioned.

"He was shot in the chest with an arrow." Maria sadly informed him. "He should make a full recovery, but that won't be for a while."

"Please, milady," the patient wheezed with a weakly raised hand, "I'm well enough that I can at least talk to the Great Hero directly." He twisted his neck to look at Kiran. "I was out on patrol when we ran into a few of those Emblian devils. They got me before I even had a chance to raise my blade. I imagine me wife and son got a few grey hairs when the news reached 'em. Forgive me for being so careless, milord…"

"What's done is done; all you should worry about is getting better." Kiran assured him.

"Kiran is correct, Gerard." Libra spoke up. "You are far from the only casualty as of late." He shifted his attention to address Kiran directly. "I believe Embla has grown bolder recently. We have been receiving far more wounded lately than we did when I first arrived."

"Wretched dastards!" Gerard gasped. "They think they can do as they please in our realm! If only we could afford more patrols or strengthen the ones we have, then we'd make them pay for ever crossing the border!" He frustratedly sighed and clenched his bedsheets. "We just don't have the men and we get worn out too quickly to catch them all…"

Kiran made no immediate comment to the man's grievances. Instead, he lightly gripped his chin and narrowed his eyes in thought. After several moments of contemplation, watched by the Askrans with bated breath, he spoke. "I might know a way to circumvent the manpower shortage…"

"M-milord?" Gerard stammered.

"I'll bring this up to Commander Anna – together, I think we can come up with a way to mitigate the problems you've been having. But in the meantime," he lightly rested his gloved hand on Gerard's shoulder, "you just focus on recovering, okay Gerard?"

He looked stunned, though Libra couldn't say whether it was receiving Kiran's touch or being directly addressed by name that caused it. His surprise was such that he took a second to gather his bearing and form a response. "Aye, milord, I'll do just that. Make those dastards pay for what they've done to us!"

Kiran silently nodded and finally made good on his departure from the healing hall, Odin not far behind him. As he watched their retreating forms, Libra thought back to one of his first conversations with Maria. He had confessed to the princess that he thought their tactician a surly and abrasive man, and was bewildered to hear her defend him as gentle and compassionate at heart. He had not really believed her at the time, thinking her assessment too heavily colored by childlike naivete and optimism, but bearing witness to Kiran's concern for Jane and ordinary Askran soldiers made him consider that perhaps Maria's eyes saw deeper than his own.


It had taken far too long, but the Order had finally begun contributing to the war again. Though the approach they'd taken was far from ideal, Kiran was just glad they were finally doing something again – even if he still didn't play a part.

His talk with Libra and Odin had proven more fruitful than he could have imagined, since in addition to hope for Jane, it gave him understanding of magic and the state of Askr's patrols. He'd taken the latter straight to Anna and the other Askrans as promised…though the meeting wasn't without some of the usual friction.

"Believe it or not, I've actually been considering the same problem." Anna cheekily informed him. The four of them were in her office, seated around her wooden desk. Kiran had just brought up the concerns about patrol performance he'd learned about from Gerard.

"Did you manage to come up with any solutions?" Kiran impatiently asked. "Because if not, I was going to suggest having a couple heroes join the regular patrols to bolster their numbers and cumulative skill."

Anna actually started light-heartedly giggling at his proposal. "That's exactly what I was thinking! I was just waiting to run the numbers and see if we could sustain that with the heroes we have now before I proposed it to everyone. Even taking into account that some aren't quite combat ready, I'd say we can make it work."

Sharena gave an excited squeal and clasped her hands together. "That's wonderful! Great minds think alike, huh Alfonse?"

The prince nodded in agreement, a small grin on his lips. "Indeed. I was beginning to grow disheartened by the mounting casualties. Just the thought of halting that tide lightens my steps. Though, it is a shame we still lack the numbers to effectively patrol all of our territory."

"Actually," Kiran smugly declared, "I had an idea about solving that problem. Like I said earlier, I got to thinking about this because of that wounded soldier. Well, he also mentioned that the patrols get worn out too quickly to cover enough ground. So…that made me remember how convenient it is that we have a dancer capable of putting anyone who watches her back to a hundred percent."

"You're referring to Ninian?" Anna inquired before thoughtfully stroking her chin. "Yes, I see what you mean. Only about half the day is spent with patrols on the lookout since they get too exhausted to effectively do it any longer. We could make more with the reserve troops at the castle, but that would leave us underdefended in the event of an attack, so we've never done it. But if we had Ninian dance for the debilitated patrols when they all returned, we could double the amount of ground we cover! That's a fantastic idea, Kiran!"

Sharena happily giggled and started lightly shaking his shoulders from behind. "I can't believe you didn't want to be the tactician! Everything you come up with is a hit!" In spite of the fact that Sharena had never been shy about heaping on praise, Kiran found himself blushing at her cheer.

"And hey," he eagerly added, "all those patrols will add up in no time – the Order will be chock full of heroes before we know it!"

At once, Sharena's playful shaking stopped and the Askrans' expressions turned from excitement to hesitant concern. "You don't mean to imply that you intend to join the patrols, do you?" Alfonse asked.

"Uh, yeah?" Kiran answered, stupefied. "Do you expect me not to? How else am I supposed to load up the Breidablik when it burns through summons as fast as it does?"

"Doing something less dangerous, of course!" Sharena implored from over his shoulder.

"Less dangero – what the hell is that supposed to mean?! Being in danger is sort of in the job description!"

"Yes, but we can allay that danger through careful planning and strategy." Anna cut in, her earlier mirth replaced with deathly seriousness. "Kiran, you got this idea by speaking with a wounded soldier who was caught off guard during a patrol. If that soldier was you, we'd lose access to your summoning powers for months while you recovered the old-fashioned way, assuming you even survived. If we don't minimize the risk you face in battle by acquiring as much intelligence as possible before the engagement, we stand to lose everything."

"So I'm just supposed to stay locked in my room like a good boy, doing jack shit for weeks on end?"

"No, you're supposed to be studying tactics and strategy to better your performance when the time finally comes for you to join a battle." Alfonse frustratedly clarified. "Which, to your credit, you have been doing, in addition to strengthening your bonds with the heroes. You needn't do anything but your normal routine; let the warriors worry about the day to day fighting. Nothing has changed from when we first had this argument when you summoned Odin and Jane, so my decision remains fixed."

Kiran angrily scowled and crossed his arms. "Well that's just fan-fucking-tastic. While everyone else risks life and limb on a daily basis, I get to sit in my ivory tower as far from danger as possible. Truly, I am the Great Hero spoken of in legend."

"If memory serves," Anna voiced with an irritated edge, "you were very reluctant to accept your role here. Now, here you are chomping at the bit to be placed in mortal peril. Why the sudden change in heart?"

"Don't misunderstand me; brushing elbows with death still isn't my idea of a good time." He sourly clarified. "But as much as that thought makes my stomach churn, I feel even worse about sending the others to do it for me with no personal risk. I'm asking those people to put their lives on the line for us, so it feels like the least I could do is be out there with them."

"Your empathy for the Order does you credit." Alfonse admitted. "That said, you cannot allow your guilt to override your better judgment. I and the other heroes are placing our faith in you, so don't fear reciprocating that faith and trusting us to take care of ourselves."

"It's not just the heroes." He protested. "All of your subjects practically revere me. Whenever I enter a room full of them, they just stare in awe. They make me feel like I should be doing more to live up to those expectations."

"We all know that feeling." Sharena empathized. "The people have always looked to our family to fix everything that goes wrong. But I've learned the hard way that you can't solve every problem that pops up – no matter how much you might want to. You just have to get used to it; both the way they treat you and not being able to do as much to help as you'd like."

The conversation had quickly winded down from there, and the awkward silence that followed made it easy for him to grumble out an excuse and be on his way. The patrol amendment hadn't made for a perfect solution – Amelia, who had been placed under Camus' instruction, had been deemed not quite ready by the Sable knight and everyone refused to go on patrol with Jane without Kiran around to talk her down – but it was a hell of a lot better than the nothing they had been doing. It had been several days now since the change was implemented, and neither Ninian nor the heroes on patrol looked any worse for wear. Libra had even reported a decrease in the rate of new casualties, which meant they must have been doing some good.

At present, he was standing out in the courtyard with the rest of the Order, sans Jane. A runner had come into his office to inform him that the prince had requested his presence for an important announcement. Confused, but not uncooperative, he followed the instructions and found himself one of the last to arrive.

With his hands in the pockets of his coat, he lazily turned to Haar at his left side. "So," he lamely began, "what do you think the big deal is?"

The wyvern rider idly shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows? Must be internal Askr business if they didn't tell you about it."

"Whatever it is, it's gotta be big!" Amelia eagerly pitched in from his right, Camus reluctantly trailing behind her. "Maybe Embla is pulling back everywhere or something!"

"You would do well the rein in that unfounded optimism," Camus dryly noted, "but you do have a point that there must be significant news to report. We would not have been collectively assembled otherwise."

"We'll find out soon enough – here come the big three themselves." Kiran observed. Indeed, Alfonse, Sharena and Anna were excitedly rushing out to meet them. In fact, judging by the way they were practically skipping with huge grins, they were positively giddy.

"By the look of things, at least they've got good news." Haar mumbled.

"Friends!" Alfonse cheerily greeted them, a piece of parchment in his hands. "I bring a stupendous report from my father, the king!" That got everyone's full attention – no one, including Kiran, had heard anything about the king and queen outside the brief descriptions of Askr they got on their first day. Practically all anyone knew about them was that the king's name was Gustav.

"There was a battle recently in the marshes on the eastern peninsula." Sharena began informing them with barely contained elation. "It was expected to happen for some time, with the local commander, Duke Savaric, estimating it could be the last pitched battle Askr ever fought if it went poorly. But listen to this: the Emblian flank was severely undermanned, allowing the Royal Knights and surrounding garrisons to encircle them as they got bogged down in the mire. A force nearly eight thousand strong was routed with minimal casualties!"

Only eight thousand? Kiran thought with some disappointment. A cursory glance revealed he was alone in his chagrin – the others were gaping in stunned awe at the report.

"But that's not all!" Anna gleefully cut in. "They interrogated the handful of survivors left over, and it turns out the problem with their flank happened due to a sudden supply shortage from one of the western depots. They said all they knew was that a freak fire burned it down and left a third of the army unfit for combat!"

"That was us!" Tana exclaimed. "We did that!" The other heroes, particularly those who had fought in the raid, shared in her rapidly growing exhilaration.

"That we did!" Anna jubilantly agreed. "Apparently, one of the few Emblian officers advocated postponing the battle, but Princess Veronica herself ordered them to go ahead anyway."

"Ha!" Sharena haughtily laughed. "That'll teach that brat to think she can just take whatever she wants!"

The heroes began excitedly murmuring amongst each other at the news in varying groups: Ayra and Kaze shared confident smirks, Clive and Virion began proudly boasting about the strength of their noble blood, Maria and Nino locked their fingers together and started eagerly speculating about the next victory, and so forth. For his part, Kiran felt himself exhale in relief, as if some of the unbearable tension in his muscles was finally given relief. A firm grasp on his shoulder turned his attention to Haar, who gave him a sanguine nod.

"Talk about cutting it close…" Kiran breathed. "If we'd been one or two weeks slower, you'd be reading a very different report right now."

"Maybe so," Alfonse conceded, "but we've no reason to darken this happy occasion with idle conjecture of how things may have gone wrong. This is a time for celebration! Actually," he nervously scratched the back of his head, "I've been in such an exultant mood that I've neglected to read the whole report. My spirit was so lifted by the victory that I felt compelled to share it with you all as soon as possible."

"Well go ahead and finish it!" Amelia encouraged him. "More good news definitely can't hurt!"

"Yes, I suppose it can't." He casually chuckled and returned his attention to the document in his hands. As his eyes scanned back and forth over the page, his mirth gave way to confusion, then shock, and finally dread. By the time he finished, the paper was shaking from the tremble in his limbs and the mood of the entire group had fallen with him.

"What's wrong, Alfonse?" Sharena innocently asked. Wordlessly, he handed the page over. She scanned its contents herself, quickly following the same pattern of emotions as her brother. The sight of the normally jubilant princess reduced to such a morose state so easily galvanized the heroes into seeking immediate answers.

"Enough wallowing in your own misery." Tanith snapped. "What else was in that report to instill such terror in you?"

Anna, who had taken the paper to read it herself, found her voice despite her own apprehension. "It would seem…that His Majesty has become aware of the Order's existence."

"Become aware?" Libra confusedly repeated. "Do you mean to imply he has thus far not known about us?"

"Does he not know about me?" Kiran anxiously asked.

The three Askrans shared a nervous look. "You have to understand," Alfonse hesitantly began, "that father has never believed in old legends…"

"You didn't tell him." Haar interrupted. It was neither a question nor an accusation, but dumbfounded observation.

"We were going to!" Sharena half-heartedly protested. "It's just…look, when we first proposed looking into old legends like Embla did, father told us it was nothing but a waste of time. We knew we had to at least try, so…we requested a transfer out to this castle so we could research in peace, though we told him it was to help secure the outlying territories. Not that that wasn't part of it!" She hastily added. "And we planned to tell father as soon as we succeeded in fulfilling a legend! But when the commander actually managed to summon Kiran, we got sort of caught up in turning things around and kept…putting it off, I guess?"

"One should never 'put off' matters of such import." Camus chastised them. "Especially not to someone as paramount as the kingdom's ruler. Do you even know how this information reached his ears? Has an Emblian spy taken advantage of your thumb-twiddling to drive a rift between you and your father?"

"This is not the work of Embla." Kaze cut in. "If they knew everything about the Order and Kiran, we would have assassins crawling out of the masonry."

"Kaze is right." Alfonse granted. "All father said is that he 'has heard whispers of a Great Hero and the Order of legendary warriors he has built under your watch'. I imagine that one of the troops or castle staff took my briefing back to the local town with them and let something slip within earshot of a merchant or messenger." He shook his head. "To think one of them could be so careless even after I stressed the importance of secrecy to them all…"

"Wait," Nino piped up, "there's a town nearby?"

"I've caught sight of it on occasion during my drills." Tana supplied. "It's further back in Askran territory, behind a hill or two."

"You and Alfonse both refer to Holms Village." Anna clarified. "It's become something of a hub for refugees in this area. Some of the castle garrison joined up after they were driven from their homes by the invasion. Their families live in the vicinity of Holms and they return there at night to be with them."

"Then that must be the source of the leak as Alfonse suspected." Ayra concluded. "If the king has caught wind of rumors about us, then doubtless the spies Embla placed around Askr have as well. That, combined with the loss of their closest fort to here, is likely the cause of the increased activity of late."

"Yeah, that makes sense." Odin concurred. "They must be trying to figure what exactly has been going on around here lately."

"So, then…" Ninian timidly began, "what are we to do?"

"Nothing." Alfonse bitterly replied before sighing. "Father has ordered that, should the Order he's heard of exists, it is to cease all activity until he can speak to me personally and clarify what's happened."

"Oh for Christ's sake!" Kiran indignantly clamored. "We just started doing stuff again and now we have to put everyone back on ice until you and Sharena can check in with daddy? You've got to be kidding!"

Alfonse defeatedly shook his head. "My father's word is absolute. I will depart on the morrow; by horseback, it's about a day's journey from here to the capital, so I should be able to bring word of his judgement after roughly three days of absence."

"Don't worry about me." Sharena added. "I'll be staying here with the rest of you. Father has only requested Alfonse's presence."

Kiran raised an eyebrow at her dismissive tone. "Uh, aren't you the princess? And therefore next in line if anything happens to Alfonse?"

"Oh, it's not important." She waved him off with somewhat disturbing nonchalance. "Even if I did go, I'd just sit in the corner with my mouth shut while father and Alfonse talk. I'm better off here."

"Um, alright then." He uncertainly responded. "So, only three days of nothing?"

"Only three days." Alfonse confirmed. "You needn't worry about the Order disbanding or anything. Father is, above all else, pragmatic – he won't cast all this aside after we've already proven our worth. I need only explain things to him." His words were confident on paper, but Kiran doubted anyone missed the nervous twinge in his voice. If the talks went south, as Alfonse apparently feared they might, there was no telling how the king would handle the Order.

Gustav can declare us outlaws for all I care. I'm not leaving Earth's fate up to him after he's already shown Askr can't hack it. And I doubt the others would put up with being told to let the war go either.

"It's not like we won't be able to do anything." Anna attempted to find a bright side. "The three-day prohibition is just for official military activities. We can still train and prepare as we have been."

Nobody was particularly mollified by her assurances. The realization that they suddenly had a pendulum over their heads was more than enough to put them all in a dour mood despite the celebratory start to the meeting. "I'm truly sorry for all of this." Alfonse apologized. "For not speaking to my father earlier, for being too hasty in declaring happy news without reading the full letter…" Once more he shook his head. "All I can do now is make amends through my actions. I know this is all very sudden, but if you'll all excuse me, I need to prepare for my journey tomorrow."

With his head hung, Alfonse trudged back inside, his father's letter once again in his hands. After an apologetic glance back at them, Anna followed after him. Only Sharena remained; as the heroes began talking in spite of her presence, she resigned herself and traipsed over to Ayra and Kaze.

"Man, who saw that coming?" Haar remarked.

"Not me." Amelia answered. "The king wouldn't really break up the Order, right? I haven't even gotten a chance to fight yet!"

"Who can say?" Camus mused. "Whatever his decision, Alfonse will be bound to carry it out. His loyalty as both a son and a prince demand that of him."

"I should think is loyalty is to his people before anything else." Kiran refuted. "And kicking us out earns them all a one-way ticket to the bottom of Embla's boot. Just because his dad's the king doesn't mean he'll always make the best decisions or that Alfonse should blindly do everything he says."

Camus frowned at his words and Amelia gave a shocked gasp, but Haar just chuckled. "Heh, you would say that."

"Whatever happens between Alfonse and his dad, I don't intend to sit around doing business as usual while he's gone. I'll hit up Anna before the day's over and see if we can't come up with something productive to do." Kiran thought for a moment before amending, "Actually, maybe I'll try to bring Sharena along. After the way she talked about herself, I feel like she could benefit from helping out with something."

"That was strange…" Amelia muttered, her earlier consternation forgotten for the moment. "Well, whatever you come up with, I'm ready!"

"That's the spirit, Amelia." Kiran applauded before stepping forward. "Meeting's over, so I'll be getting back to work. See you guys around dinner time."

The three gave their own farewells, though Camus' was noticeably more strained than the others; apparently, his memory wasn't as short as Amelia's. Kiran made a mental note of that – in the future, he should probably watch what he said about kings and queens. Haar was willing to take the critique in stride, but he got the feeling that was more due to the wyvern rider's own personality than the American history he'd been told. The present was a more pressing concern though, and it was thoughts of how to avoid another spat with the Askrans that kept him company as he passed once more into the castle interior.


"You're probably wondering why you're all here."

Once again, they'd assembled the entire Order (with the exception of Jane), though this time they were congregated on a training field instead of the castle courtyard. It was drawing close to noon and everyone had been pulled from the usual business they'd spent already spent several hours that day working on. The setting was no less unusual for a complete gathering – Libra and Maria usually stayed in the healing hall and the aerial heroes tended to train wherever there was free space around the castle to land. Alfonse had left for the capital that morning, and in his wake Kiran, Sharena and Anna had concocted an exercise of sorts.

"I should hope it's not another report, given how yesterday's ended." Virion dryly responded. "Why is Princess Sharena holding a helmet upside-down?"

"Nah, nothing like that." Kiran waved him off. "And the helmet's part of what we're doing. We're going to be conducting a test of –"

"OH!" Before he could follow up and explain what the test was, Odin suddenly shouted in apparent realization of something and started fishing through his tome satchel. "A test! Man, I completely forgot!"

Kiran pinched the bridge of his nose. "Odin, you're not the one being tested. Stop digging for a paper and pencil or whatever it is you're doing."

"That's not it!" He protested. "I modified that wind tome I was talking about. I put it in here somewhere so I could test your magic resistance like we agreed to." After a few more seconds of searching, he triumphantly pulled a book from the satchel. "Aha! I knew I had it on me!"

"I-I'm sorry, what's going on?" Tana asked with visible confusion.

"Some days ago, Kiran sought out Odin and I for an explanation of magic." Libra clarified. "During the discussion, we raised the possibility that he possesses dangerously low magic resistance. Odin offered to weaken a wind tome to safely test whether Kiran is immune to offensive magic or critically weak to it." Thankfully, Libra kept the other details of their discussion under wraps – though the suspicious look Maria shot his way told him she knew on some level that an academic discussion wasn't all they had.

"And now, the fruits of my wicked labor lay before you!" Odin proclaimed.

"Odin, can't we do this later?" Kiran impatiently demanded.

"Aw, come on!" The sorcerer complained. "This won't even take five minutes! The worst that'll happen is you just get a shallow cut on your hand. What difference does it make if we do it now or after whatever test you've thought up?"

"I thought you were a natural philosopher." Ayra deadpanned. "I believe your exact words were, 'conducting experiments is my livelihood'. Have you lost your drive so easily?"

Of all the nerve…! Kiran internally fumed at her challenging words. Outwardly, he settled for a glare and an incensed correction. "Okay, first of all, none of my experiments ever dealt with living subjects. Second, I'm pretty sure it's illegal to conduct human experiments like this back home; you'd have to start on rats or something first."

"Kiran, Odin's not asking you to test a flesh melting hex." Anna berated. "Like he said, you're just going to get a cut, if anything. Honestly, we should have done this a long time ago. With how difficult it is to heal you, knowing how susceptible you are to magic is vital information. Just let him cast the spell and we can do the combat test right after."

Squeamish and grumbling, Kiran reluctantly pulled off his right glove and held out his clenched fist to Odin. "Please just make it fast. I remember you saying something about wind spells cutting my limbs off and I'd rather not drag that out."

Odin rolled his eyes and came up to him with the tome open. "That's if the spell was full strength, which this isn't. Just hold still while I do this." He began muttering incantations under his breath and forming a small gust above the pages. The sight of the gale forming into a curved edge made Kiran shut his eyes and turn his head away. After a minute passed with no feeling, he dared to crack open his eye and see what had happened.

There was indeed a fully formed blade of wind under Odin's control – and it was sitting in the middle of Kiran's fist without effect. The top reached a few inches above his knuckles while the bottom sat just below his thumb. The spell's creator was gaping at its total failure to do anything, as was everyone with a decent view.

"I don't believe it…" Odin murmured.

"…Maybe the spell is too weak to work?" Nino proposed. "I mean, maybe you made a blade that can't cut anything anyway."

Odin shook his head. "I tested this on a myself first. I can assure you, it works. Or at least, I know it's supposed to work."

"Then why do you have it going through my whole hand?!" Kiran fearfully beseeched, still not entirely convinced the spell wouldn't suddenly do him harm. "What if it had worked?!"

"I started with just the tip of the blade on your skin!" Odin immediately defended. "When that didn't do anything, I thought maybe it needed to be a bit closer. Still nothing, so I pushed it further and further, but…" He defeatedly hung his head and dispelled the wind. "I guess you really do come from a world without magic."

Is he still hung up on that? Are the rest of them? For the love of…

"Yes, that is what I've been saying from the moment I got here. Now that you've confirmed it yourself, could you finally let that go?"

"You don't understand!" The Nohrian protested. "This doesn't make any sense! Never mind your summoning powers, which I don't fully understand even if you did have magic. How could you possibly be here? They told me you were the very first one to get summoned – but how were you magically summoned from a world without magic?"

Okay, that…was actually a really good point. One he probably should've considered a lot sooner. "I, uh…Anna, help me out here, you're the one who did it. Didn't you and the legend say something about expensive reagents?"

The Commander was no less confused than he was, as evidenced by the way she scratched at her head in perplexion. "Well, let's see…I forget the exact measurements, but I'm pretty sure I remember what each reagent was: black pearls, blood moss, fermented garlic, boiled ginseng, mandrake root, nightshade caps, black widow spider silk and some sulfurous ash. I gathered them all up and arranged them some way on a diagram drawn out in the legend. Then I raised the Breidablik to the sky, pulled the trigger, the reagents and diagram disappeared and Kiran showed up in their place."

If Odin was shocked before, it was nothing compared to his stupefaction after Anna's recounting. He didn't even notice his modified wind tone slip from his hand. "That's insane…" he quietly uttered, more to himself than them. "You don't even realize the magnitude of that ritual's power, do you?"

"I certainly realize the magnitude of coin it cost to get them all." She irritably grumbled before wincing. "A cost that Alfonse will have to explain to His Majesty…"

"Never mind that!" He interrupted, practically on the verge of hysterics. "I didn't even think it was possible to use so many reagents with so much power in a single conjuration. They should've destructively interfered with each other the moment you tried to connect them all through a common conduit! Unless…" he gathered his bearings and paused to think, "maybe the Breidablik acted as a stabilizer? Damn it, Lord Leo would be able to figure this out – he always was better at theory than me."

"You could always look at the legend if you want." Sharena offered. "Though, it sounds like you'd need to talk to whoever wrote it to figure out how everything works."

"Good luck with that; the author didn't sign their name or anything." Kiran said as he put his glove back on. "And even if they did, fifty bucks says they've been dead for so long they don't even have a skeleton left. Why do you care anyway? I'm here now, that's all that matters."

"As I understand, you ultimately desire to return to your own world and the legend provides no means of doing so, yes?" Libra replied, waiting for Kiran to nod before continuing. "If we cannot understand how you were initially brought here, formulating a way to reverse the process may prove to be impossible. Personally, I'm as confused as Odin – your presence here means it must be possible to magically affect you and your world, but the means of doing so completely elude me. By extension, this means your people are still susceptible to Embla's spell should they achieve victory in this conflict."

Wonderful… As if his prospects for getting back home weren't bad enough already. He'd said it himself: the only way to decipher the inner mechanisms of the ritual or the Breidablik was to find their creators, and they didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of pulling that off. And he'd lost another thread of hope that maybe Earth could escape any consequences if he failed. Focusing on their own ineptitude was just depressing, doubly so when he hadn't intended the topic to come up at all.

Being reminded of his lot in life made Kiran tiredly rub at his eyes in a mostly wasted effort to clear his mind. "Can we please just get back to why we called everyone out here in the first place? You said this would take five minutes and we've been spit balling about things we don't understand for ten."

"I second that motion." Clive spoke up. "As intriguing as it is to witness Kiran's imperviousness to magic, I'm afraid the current subject matter is beyond the scope of most of us present."

True to Clive's word, all of the non-magically inclined heroes were spacing out from Odin's concerns. Even Maria and Nino had given up on trying to follow the conversation and were waiting for them to finish. Odin looked like he'd rather keep speculating, but understood it was no longer the time or place. Though frustrated by the lack of answers, he scooped up his tome and returned to the others, who were once again paying close attention to Kiran and Anna.

"Okay, let's try this again." Kiran took a deep breath. "We're going to conduct a test of my command abilities. Anna and I talked and decided it was about time we did something like this since I've had my nose stuffed in books for the past few weeks. The helmet –"

"Is my idea!" Sharena butt in, looking rather pleased with herself. "It's filled with little slips of paper with everybody's name on them. Anna and Kiran will take turns drawing out slips until they each have four-man teams. Then, after a few minutes to come up with a strategy that fits whatever team they've got, they'll have a little mock battle, where victory is won by routing the enemy team. Oh, and they have to think of a strategy on their own – even if the team think it's a bad idea, they have to not say anything and follow it anyway."

"What if our name isn't pulled?" Ayra immediately asked.

"Then you observe with the rest of the peanut gallery." Kiran informed. "If you've got experience, take note of what did and didn't work so you can explain why I or Anna screwed up. If you don't have experience, sit back and enjoy the show." He charitably left out that Ninian and Maria's names had been excluded from the bunch. Ninian would have no time or space to dance in a way that wouldn't also benefit the opposing team, and while Libra could double as a combatant, Maria was too slow a healer to be anything less than deadweight in what would be a very quick skirmish – though he had no doubt how she'd take that assessment.

"Why are we doing random draws?" Amelia asked. "Why not just let you two pick who you want? And why rush the strategy?"

Kiran made to answer, but Camus beat him to the punch. "Because you don't always have the luxury of choosing your opponents or whom you must use to defeat them. Nor do you always have time to plan a foolproof strategy. Adding an element of rushed improvisation will make this more authentic."

"What he said." Kiran agreed. "It's especially important here in the Order where everyone comes in from all walks of life. There's no telling what kind of bizarre team composition I might have to sometimes make do with when we suddenly have a fight on our hands."

"The one saving grace," Anna supplied, "is that I won't fight, to make it fair on Kiran. Sure, it wouldn't be like that in a real battle, but I figure we ought to go easy on him since it's the first time we're doing something like this.

"Oh, this sounds quite exciting!" Tana eagerly beamed. "By all means, let the name drawing begin!"

"While it would probably be to my advantage to go first, I'm such a nice guy that I'll let Anna have the first pull. After all, she is going easy on me."

Anna was unamused by his blatantly sarcastic snark and put on an air of hollow gratitude. "My, I didn't know you could be such a gentleman." She mockingly praised with falsely honeyed words before digging around in the helmet, pulling a piece of parchment and reading the written name, "Virion."

"Marvelous!" The bluenette gracefully strode to her side. "No offense, Kiran, but if given the choice I shall always prefer the command of a lovely maiden." Outwardly, Kiran only raised an eyebrow at the declaration, but his heart was already racing at Virion's presence.

Shit, she already got the one archer. He sworebefore reaching into the helmet himself. I just have to hope I don't get any pegasus or wyvern knights – every single book I read stressed to never let either of them anywhere near arrows. When he read the name he pulled, he did his best to stifle the frustration and disappointment in his voice, "Tana."

"How grand!"

At least one of us is happy about this. He thought as she guided Achaeus to his side. Her eagerness actually made him feel guilty about considering her a bad pull, but that didn't change the fact they had a bad matchup going for them.

Anna took her second turn, and the satisfied grin she wore upon reading the name made him sweat bullets. "Ayra."

"Got it." The Isaachian didn't bother hiding her relief at not getting stuck on the bench. Meanwhile, Kiran barely bit back a curse at the announcement. His disgruntlement must've shown on his face since she shot him a self-assured look with a proud glint in her eyes as she joined Anna. "That's too bad, Kiran. Hope you have better luck in the next mock battle."

Not the next pull – the next battle. She had that much confidence in her abilities, and from what Sharena and Virion had told him, it wasn't misplaced. Hell, he knew she trained like a madwoman, so it wasn't not like he needed other people to tell him how sharp she was.

Still, he couldn't let her get to him, so he reached in and grabbed another paper slip. This time, he couldn't help but visibly slump his shoulder a bit. "Libra." An axe user. And every book said swords beat axes. God fucking dammit…

"May the Gods bless us." They needed that prayer at the rate they were going. If Libra or Tana thought they had poor chances, they didn't show it – the former was as serene as always and the latter just looked happy to be there.

While Kiran was stressing out, Anna wasted no time going for her third pick. "Clive."

"On my honor, Commander Anna, I shall do my utmost." Well, Clive wasn't too terrible to go up against. Unless, of course, he pulled a mage the Zofian knight would be able to run down before they could conjure a spell.

Please, not Odin or Nino. He pleaded as he dug out his third slip. "Camus." He called out, for once relieved by whom he got.

"Understood." Camus was, at worst, Clive's equal, and Kiran got the impression he may have actually been the better of the two cavaliers. Guess we'll find out shortly. If nothing else, he cut an imposing figure, especially alongside Tana's frilly skirt and Libra's robes.

Now that they were at the final selection, Anna opted to dramatically pause before slowly sinking her hand into the helmet. Kiran rolled his eyes at the histrionics, but Anna thankfully didn't dally once she had the paper in her hand. "Amelia."

"All right!" Amelia looked ecstatic to actually be given a chance to fight. From what he'd gathered in his daily checkups, Camus had kept her doing mostly drills and exercises, with spars being a rare treat. At the time, he'd thought that a waste, but now he was grateful for Camus' approach – it meant she'd be an easier opponent. Honestly, even if he had sparred with her every day they'd been together, Amelia would still be greener than anyone on his team, Tana included.

"You're going down, Sir Camus!" She taunted from Anna's side.

"You think so, hm?" Her mentor sharply replied. "You ought to see the final name before making idle boasts." He expectantly looked at Kiran, who rolled his shoulders and dove his hand into the now much emptier helmet.

"Kaze." He called out, grateful he'd gotten the least vulnerable of the remaining candidates – the ninja wasn't allergic to arrows nor would he be easily stopped by a galloping horse.

"Leave it to me." The Hoshidian glided over to him, leaving Tanith, Haar, Odin, Nino, Maria and Ninian behind.

"Oh, come on!" Maria complained, stomping her foot down. "I really don't get to fight? That's not fair!"

"I don't get to fight either." Sharena pointed out as Kiran and Anna put their slips back into the helmet. "The teams being random was the whole point." With the helmet tucked under her arm, she joined the rest of the bench warmers. Now that their teams were finalized, Anna took hers about 30 yards away to give them both privacy and space.

"Darn it!" Maria pouted and clutched her staff. "And I really wanted to show off how much I'd learned from Libra…"

"Would watching them fight from on top of my wyvern make you feel better?" Haar offered.

Maria looked to the side and kicked a puff of dirt. "…Yes." She quietly accepted, still trying to hold on to some of her stubborn pride. Haar didn't even bother attempting to hide his smile as he helped lift her into his saddle.

"Try not to fall asleep, Haar." Tanith derided. "Your feedback is expected at the end of all this, so do pay attention."

The cyclops rolled his good eye and called out to Kiran's team. "Hey, Tana!" Though somewhat startled by the sudden address, she gave him her attention. "If you throw the fight to make Tanith look bad, I'll give you my helping of desert for the next week."

Tana giggled at his absurd request. "No can do, Sir Haar. I'm afraid my pride as a pegasus knight is just slightly stronger than my craving for sweets."

Haar apathetically shrugged while Maria laughed against his chest. "Damn. Well, it was worth a shot." Both of them pointedly ignored Tanith's fuming disbelief that he would spite her so brazenly.

"Alright, shoo out the clowns, Anna and I need to think." As fun as it was to watch their antics, they were being pretty distracting. If Sharena had done what she was supposed to, she started counting up to five minutes the moment Kaze joined their team.

"One minute left to plan!" Sharena called out with the worst possible timing.

Shit… What the hell was he supposed to do? Everything he'd read pointed to this being a losing matchup! Hell, he couldn't even tell what he'd have done back when he didn't know anything and was playing it by ear. All he could think to do was stick by what he learned and hope things worked themselves out.

"Okay…" He uncertainly started to his heroes. "Tana, you hang back with me for as long as Virion's a threat. You're too susceptible to his arrows to risk going in." She nodded her understanding and he moved to the Sable Knight. "Camus, you go after Virion to free up Tana as soon as possible. You've got a horse, you should be able to reach him fastest." Camus couldn't help but thoughtfully frown, as sure a sign as any that his plan was far from ideal, but Kiran had no time to consider alternatives. "Kaze, you…you try and keep Ayra and Amelia tied up. Just, you know, throw shuriken from a distance to keep them occupied. Tana can back you up by taking on Ayra once Virion's out of the picture." The emerald shinobi barely tilted his head in what was probably acquiescence. "Which leaves Libra to deal with Clive. Axes are supposed to beat lances, so, uh…do your best?" Libra lightly raised an eyebrow at the doubtful way Kiran capped off the plan.

He wanted to offer token words of encouragement, but Sharena's voice rang out before he could do so. "Alright, that's it! Time to square off! On my mark, begin the mock battle! And remember – even though you're using blunted training weapons, try not to hurt each other too much." Their teams of four lined up to face one another, arms at the ready. Kiran barely had time to swallow in apprehension before Sharena called once more from the sidelines.

"Begin!"

Camus immediately galloped forward at full speed while Kaze and Libra followed behind at his flanks. After only a few strides he was forced to divert his mount to the side to avoid the first of Virion's arrows. Though incredibly minor, the loss to Camus' momentum was enough allow Clive to intercept and prevent him from breaking through their lines to the Ylissean. They began locking their spears against one another from astride their horses. After only a few moments, it was clear that Kiran's assessment had been correct: Camus was indeed the superior cavalier. Regrettably, that meant little when Clive needed only to survive and keep him occupied.

Meanwhile, Kaze was doing his best to carry out his orders, even as the results of his attempts proved they were flawed from the beginning. Ayra was agile enough to bob, weave, and even deflect Kaze's shuriken in midair as she moved to engage Libra, making the shinobi's attacks a minor hinderance at best. Amelia, while far slower, was also far more heavily armored – by huddling down to shrink her target area around her center of mass and using her massive axe to cover her weakly defended legs and head, she ensured most inbound projectiles harmlessly bounced off her plate mail or weapon. Were Kaze focused solely on one of the women, he would likely have been able to anticipate Ayra's movements or precisely target gaps in Amelia's defense. Unfortunately, his attention was split between them, ensuring neither was effectively dealt with.

The breakdown of Kiran's strategy left Libra in a horribly disadvantageous position – his axe, which was supposed to be a boon against Clive's spear, now proved to be a detriment when faced with Ayra's ruthless swordsmanship. Kaze would've tried to help his comrade, had Amelia not used her axe's lengthy chain to bring it bearing down on him while she was still some distance away. On his own, Libra did his best to put up a decent fight, but he was clearly on borrowed time.

Fuck, everything's gone completely to hell! His strategy hadn't even remotely worked…which at least meant there was no more point in bothering to stick to it. "Tana! Go and help out Libra!"

Although plainly as dismayed about the situation as he was and keenly aware that Virion was still an active threat, Tana grit her teeth and dutifully obeyed him. For all her haste in speeding to Libra's side, it was quickly proving to be too little too late. Camus was knocked from his mount when an arrow struck his shoulder, faltering his guard for the instant it took Clive to deal a decisive blow. Libra had been disarmed and knocked to the ground, removing him from the equation. Amelia was deadlocked with Kaze and Tana started off surprisingly well against Ayra, but judging by the way Clive was galloping towards the former and Virion was taking aim at the latter, it was only a matter of time.

Sure enough, it wasn't long before an arrow struck Achaeus' wing, throwing him off balance and leaving Tana exposed for a sweeping slash of Ayra's sword that drove her off her saddle. Kaze, though demonstrating superb dexterity in dancing around Amelia and Clive's strikes, was wholly on the defensive. Despite his sublime finesse, he was easily pushed into Clive's strike zone when another of Virion's arrows suddenly flew at him and forced him to make a frantic dodge. With no time to correct his positioning, Kaze too was made to eat dirt with a thrust of Clive's lance.

After what couldn't have been more than ten minutes, Kiran's team was routed without managing to take a single opponent with them.

"All right, that's it!" Sharena announced. "The winner is Team Anna!"

Once hostilities officially ceased, the victors helped their fallen friends back to their feet. Tana took the loss in stride and Kaze and Libra's expressions was unreadable, but Camus' features were contorted into a distinct scowl even as Virion pulled him from the grass.

"I must remember to thank Naga that I have you as an ally and not an enemy." Libra remarked while his hand was locked with Ayra's.

"Don't sell yourself short – you held on a lot longer than most axe wielders I've taken on." She praised in return.

A few feet away, Kaze was dusting himself off. "I trust my dulled shuriken didn't cause you undue harm, Amelia."

The Grado blonde giggled that the defeated would show sincere concern for the victors. "I might have a small bruise or two on my legs, but I think I'll live. What about you? That last hit from Sir Clive looked pretty nasty."

"It was a trifling blow, considering my waist armor absorbed the brunt of it."

"Okay!" Sharena interrupted, coming over with the peanut gallery in tow. "Now that everything's said and done, it's time to review. What have we learned today?"

"To not let inexperienced knaves issue commands." Camus, now once again upon his steed, harshly critiqued. Kiran shamefully wilted and averted his eyes in the face of the Grust knight's judgement.

"Come now, Sir Camus." Tana attempted to placate him. "True, that could've gone better, but being cruel about it isn't going to help anyone."

Judging by the way his frown deepened, her efforts were in vain. "Do forgive me if I'm unwilling to spare our tactician's feelings when he fails."

"Enough, both of you." Tanith cut in. "It is indeed counterproductive to mince words when evaluating a combat exercise. However, merely flinging insults does nothing to correct the mistakes made. Kiran," she turned her attention directly to him, "why did you order your team to do what they did?"

Thanks to her, everyone was now staring at him in anticipation. He slumped his shoulders and heaved a quiet sigh, already resigned to the shortly ensuing chew out. "I wanted Camus to get rid of Virion so Tana could fly around unimpeded. He's mounted and they travel the fastest, so I figured he was the best choice for freeing her up as soon as possible. I wanted Libra to fight Clive since his axe would beat Clive's lance and I especially didn't want Libra fighting Ayra. I thought maybe Kaze could keep her and Amelia held up long enough for Virion to go down and then Tana could fight Ayra while Kaze focused on Amelia. And then I guess Camus could back up whoever he wanted and everything would sort of go from there. Obviously, it all went to pieces the moment Clive got in the way. Plus giving Kaze two targets just made him have no impact at all, and then Ayra went for Libra specifically…"

He threw his hands up in frustration and exasperatedly scoffed. "Honestly, I don't see any possible way I could've won that. Flying knights apparently go down if an arrow so much as sneezes on them, so Tana, Tanith and Haar were useless the moment Anna got Virion on the first pull. Axes suck against swords and I have no doubt that Ayra knows that, so she was always going to gun for Libra. If I had Camus go for her, that would've left Virion free to do what he did and harass everyone with arrows in the middle of their fights. Kaze's 'death of a thousand cuts' routine with shuriken wouldn't have been fast enough against Clive or Amelia and all of their armor, so…" He defeatedly shook his head. "I don't know. If there was a way to win, you tell me, because I don't see it."

He expected a protracted silence in the face of his recounting as everyone struggled to refute him. Instead, Haar spoke up almost immediately with an unusually wise edge to his words. "Ah, I see what's happened."

"You do?" Maria asked from his lap.

"Yep, this is actually pretty common in first time commanders. In Daein, we called it the centipede's dilemma. Basically, Kiran's only got a cursory understanding of tactics, which has caused him to worry too much about surface level problems and ironically made him worse than when he didn't know anything at all. He was better off when he just followed his gut without letting himself get caught up in all the tiny details."

"Wha– that doesn't make any sense!" Sharena protested. "How do you get worse at strategy after learning more about it?"

"As much as it pains me to say it," Tanith ground out through clenched teeth, "Haar is right. Kiran's missed the forest for the trees; he's tried too hard to follow lessons learned in books and as a consequence blinded himself to other, more efficient means of achieving the same outcome."

"Like at the fort…" Kiran mused. "At the time, I just did what I instinctively thought was a good idea, but looking back, I would've done things differently knowing what I do now. For one, I wouldn't have kept Haar so close to the walls when there could've still been archers around to attack him."

"And that would've been a potentially fatal mistake, given how crucial he was to funneling the garrison towards us." Ayra pointed out.

"Okay, I can get being worse now than I was at the start. But I still don't see how I could've come out of this one a winner. There's no terrain to take advantage of here, it's just an open grassy field."

The more seasoned members of the Order paused to gather their thoughts, with Anna being the one to vocalize them first. "Well, your basic idea of targeting Virion to free up Tana had merit, but you went about it the wrong way. I'd say you should've gone with Kaze instead of Camus."

Kiran scrunched up his face in confusion at her suggestion, but the other veterans were nodding along. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking." Haar concurred. "Kaze's smaller and quick on his feet, so I bet he could've slipped through to keep Virion busy. He may not have cleared the distance as fast as Camus, but he would've been a lot harder to stop cold."

"From there," Tanith continued, "Tana would've been best used against Ayra. Swordswomen like her are at their strongest when dueling on solid ground. A pegasus knight's aerial harassment is a natural counter to such a style, in addition to possessing a weapon advantage.

"I daresay the final engagements should've been Camus against Clive and Libra against Amelia." Virion concluded. "We saw firsthand that the former was in Camus' favor without my intervention, and my personal experience tells me that Libra is Amelia's superior with an axe. Even if he weren't, they would've been evenly matched at worst, leaving them locked in stalemate until the one of the other bouts reached their conclusions and freed up reinforcements. That same line of thought would've eventually tipped the scales against Ayra."

"Hold on a second," Kiran waved his hands, "I'm confused. How would Kaze have been able to take out Virion that fast? His shuriken aren't that dangerous."

Tanith shook her head. "You're missing the point. Defeating Virion was not as important as occupying him. So long as he was unable to make aimed shots at Tana, he was effectively no longer a threat to her. Blunted shuriken are not particularly dangerous, no, but they are a nuisance that would leave him no time to draw his bowstring. This is what Haar was talking about – you think that just because there's an active archer in the field, that means it's too dangerous to deploy any pegasus knights. There are ways of negating risk that do not necessarily mean removing it from the battle entirely".

In the wake of their lectures and criticisms, Kiran numbly sat down in the grass and rested his arms on his bent knees. "You're right…" he admitted, dazed by the realization of his own short-sighted stupidity. "Why didn't I think of any of that? Goddammit, I'm better than this! I know I am! So how could I have been such a smooth-brained idiot?!"

"Please…do not lose heart." Ninian gently tried to console him. "Learning from mistakes was the purpose of this, was it not?"

"You didn't think of it because you're still new to this." Anna offered some solace of her own. "That's why we have training exercises like this – so you can learn lessons and get better at your job. Everybody inevitably screws up when they're first starting out at something, myself included. You're a smart guy, so I have full confidence that you'll improve with time."

He appreciated their attempts to cheer him up, but he couldn't help feeling pessimistic and frustrated at his failure. After spending weeks holed up in the castle without making any contributions to the war, he finally had a chance to prove himself to the new heroes – and he managed to completely ruin it. For God's sake, he failed to work out a plan that took even one of their opponents out. Christ, what if he botched things that poorly in an actual fight?

Camus is right to be critical; if I have no confidence in myself, I sure as shit can't expect any from the others.

He must've been wearing his heart on his sleeve, because Nino was at his side to take a crack of her own at lifting his spirits. "Don't be so glum, Kiran, it wasn't that bad. Remember when we talked about Emblian soldiers my first day here? The Order is way tougher than anything they can scrounge up, so you may never have to go up against anyone as strong as Anna's team in a real battle."

"I guess that's true…" he grumbled, blatantly still not convinced.

"Don't let one loss get you so down." Sharena encouraged him. "Hey, as far as genuine life-or-death fights go, you've still got a perfect record. You're three for three! I'd say some wounded pride in training exercises is worth keeping that going."

He humorlessly chuckled and got back on his feet. "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again? Yeah, I suppose everyone tells themselves that at some point. Still doesn't make it suck any less when you do fail. But I have learned something today, so I guess it wasn't a total waste."

"No, it wasn't." Libra agreed. "If we never fall, how are we to learn how to pick ourselves back up? Failure is as good a teacher as any."

"Fair enough." He bitterly yielded. "Hey, maybe I'll screw up something else next time – at least that way, I won't be making the same mistake twice." Sharena, sick of all his grousing, rolled her eyes and thumped him on the back of his head. "Ow! What the hell did you do that for?"

"Will you quit being so negative?" She chided him, hands on her hips. "So you messed up for once – stewing in your pity party isn't going to change that. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and start making steps to be better. Being fatalistic about it won't help anyone, so don't take it as some world-ending mistake you'll never recover from." He was so stunned to get so thoroughly dressed down by the normally airheaded princess that he couldn't formulate any kind of response. Even the others were plainly astonished by the sight and stared at her with wide eyes, which earned a raised eyebrow from Sharena herself. "What? Do you have any idea how often I've gone through this routine with Alfonse? I swear, he thinks his life is over every time father chews him out. I'll probably have to knock some sense into him when he gets back in a couple days."

Her casual nonchalance and the imagery she provided earned a round of light laughter from most of them – laughter that, much to Kiran's surprise, he found himself a part of. He still felt down in the dumps, but he wasn't so pathetic he couldn't admit Sharena was right. Being a cynical asshole would only make him feel worse, so he did his best to take a page from her book and lighten up.

"Well, that's more like it!" She acknowledged his mirth with a beaming smile. "You know, judging by how high in the sky the sun is, it's about lunch time. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd say everyone could use a bite to eat and wind down a little."

"Ah, a victory feast, you say?" Anna cheekily interpreted. "I suppose my triumphant heroes do deserve a reward."

"If you think you're getting any of my portion, you've got another thing coming." Kiran challenged with a semblance of his usual snark. "That goes for you four too! Hold onto your pride, even in defeat, and don't let those smug pricks take anything from you!" Thankfully, Anna's team took no offense to his derogatory designation; their playful grins showed they understood that it was made in jest.

Even Camus couldn't help but crack a smile at that, though it paled in comparison to Tana's jovial laughter. "My pride's the one thing I'll never give up." She declared. "If I did, I may have to deprive Sir Haar of his desert for the near future, and I'm simply not capable of such cruelty."

"Imagine that; someone's managed to work for Tanith and hold onto their humanity." Haar deadpanned. "If you've rubbed off on her even a little, maybe I'll give you my desert anyway as thanks."

Another round of laughter rang out over the field. Kiran took heart in knowing that even if some of them had lowered their opinion of him, at least there were no hard feelings between the heroes themselves. If anything, they almost seemed closer than they had been before. As he watched Camus brush off Amelia's proud assertion that she'd beat him, he felt another impulse of motivation to do his part. He'd never wanted to get caught up in any of this…but now that he was here and had people counting on him, he couldn't help having a sense of obligation to try and live up to their expectations.


To say that Alfonse was nervous would be a gross understatement.

He'd only spent a night in the capital, but his sleep was fitful and marred by fears of what he'd say to his father. When he'd arrived late yesterday evening, his mother had warmly embraced him as he'd expected she would, but his father was nowhere to be seen. She'd assured him that he was simply busy and looked forward to seeing him again, but he knew better. His father was well aware that the longer Alfonse went without seeing him, the more obedient and on edge he'd be when their meeting finally came.

Now, in the midmorning, he was sitting in his father's private study, feeling like a prisoner awaiting his executioner. The one productive thing he'd done was send a scribe off to the castle's library with a description of the tome that housed the legend. With any luck, there was a copy stored there that could do a little of the talking for him.

The sound of the doorknob turning had him quickly on his feet and facing the door at full attention. When it swung open to reveal King Gustav and Queen Henriette, he formally bowed as was expected of the prince. "Father, mother." He greeted.

His welcome was reciprocated by a tender smile from his mother, but his father merely strode to his desk, his stony expression as unreadable as ever. "We have much to discuss, my son." He bluntly declared as he sat in his chair, the queen standing behind his left shoulder.

"Y-yes, of course, father." He cursed the minor stutter in his voice. "Where would you have me begin?"

"These troubling rumors will do nicely." Alfonse fought back a wince at Gustav's displeased tone. "The people speak, Alfonse, and while I am distant from them, traces of their words still reach my ears. So tell me," his brow furrowed ever so slightly, "what is this I've heard of an Order and a Great Hero?"

Alfonse briefly considered how to best word his explanation before realizing it was a lost cause. His father always dispensed brutal honesty and as such would prefer to be given it himself. "They are the results of efforts on my part to fulfill an ancient Askran legend discovered in the archives of Castle Odelia." This time, Alfonse couldn't help but flinch when Gustav shut his eyes and exhaled in displeasure.

"Forgive me for interrupting, Alfonse," he began, though Alfonse didn't dare believe he was actually apologetic, "but I'm not the fool you seem to think I am. I know very well you were not alone in this – your sister at least has played a part, and I suspect Commander Anna had her own hand in this."

"They did help," he conceded, "but it was at my urging that we continued to investigate legends, even after no initial leads. Whatever responsibility is to be borne in this matter, I alone should be the one to bear it."

"Hm. I suppose, if nothing else, you've learned my lessons on owning up to your actions. Continue with your tale."

Well, at least he'd managed to take the heat off Sharena and Anna. That was one victory he'd won, even if it was likely to be the only one. "Under the instructions of the legend, we discovered a strange relic buried in one of the ruins scattered about the vicinity of the castle. Using it and a ritual described in the text, we summoned a man named Kiran from a distant land."

"The 'Great Hero', I take it?" Gustav inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"That's right. Kiran is able to wield the relic without the aid of any ritual or reagents. If an Emblian soldier dies while he and relic are both nearby, he is somehow able to use that soldier's death to summon someone from a foreign kingdom connected to Zenith through the Nexus. For example, he has summoned Princess Tana of Frelia, a kingdom in Magvel, and Sir Camus of Grust, a kingdom in Archanea. The Order you've heard of is the collection of everyone he's summoned thus far, along with myself, Sharena and Anna." He bashfully paused to weigh the benefits of clarifying what kind of Order it was. "The, uh, full name is the Order of Heroes. The title was Sharena's idea."

He felt his soul wither when he saw his mother shoot him the same amused look she used to give whenever he and Sharena would play knights as children. His father was not so blithe about it. "You think yourselves heroes, do you?" He asked, judgement dripping from every word. "I have no doubt you and this Order were behind the fire that crippled our Emblian friends. Pray tell, how much of that misfortune was your doing? Or were you nothing more than a passive actor along for the ride?"

His words hit deeper than he realized – much as it grieved him to admit it, Alfonse had largely languished in defeatism while the others devised the strategy of attacking Embla's storehouses. "I…my contacts in our spy ring provided that specific fort as an ample target."

"But?" Gustav pressed.

"…But the idea of targeting Embla's supplies was not my own. It was the product of Commander Anna, Kiran and several of the heroes' deliberation. I must confess I never would have thought of it on my own."

His father said nothing in response. He merely stood from his chair, clasped his hands behind his back, and turned to stare out the window. In a way, Alfonse wished he'd started viciously admonishing him – verbal fury seemed infinitely preferential to suffocating under the weight of Gustav's silent disappointment.

Finally, his voice filled the room once more. "Tell me, Alfonse: what kind of man is this Kiran fellow with whom you've trusted your fate?"

That was awfully out of the blue; he'd expected a scathing critique, not an inquiry about Kiran. His first thoughts were of the times the summoner had snapped at and belittled him. "He's…" Rude? Boorish? Ill-tempered? Impatient? Reckless? Then, he recalled his earnest offer to teach Nino, the way Maria and Tana brightened in his presence, how he was able to strike up a friendly conversation with almost any hero, no matter their disposition. "…a complicated person. I want to believe he's a good man at heart, but he's having difficulty adjusting to his new life here, and that's accentuating his less favorable traits. He's told us of his home and it's…different, to put it mildly. For one, there's no magic there, if you can believe such a thing. I sometimes wonder if we're doing the right thing by making him the Order's tactician."

"You're allowing him to dictate strategy?" His mother incredulously asked.

"So my heir, Askr's only prince, has invited an officer from an unknown realm's military to bark orders at him?" Gustav followed up without missing a beat.

Damn it all! I'd intended to be more tactful about revealing that. How could I have been so careless? Well, there was nothing to be done about it now beyond frantic damage control. "No, it isn't like that! I mean, we have made him the tactician, but he's not a soldier or anyone of importance in his home. He doesn't have absolute authority or anything – we still meet together and confer before making any decisions."

"If he's not a soldier, why are you allowing him a voice in matters of war?" Henriette asked the logical next question.

When they put it all out in the open like that, it did seem a foolish decision. Then again, they hadn't seen what he had. "He may not have much experience, but he does have a sharp intellect – before all this, he was a scholar of natural philosophy. And he's demonstrated an innate aptitude for the art of war; as I said, he had a heavy hand in constructing our plan to attack Embla's supply stores, and his quick thinking saved the raid from disaster when the tables began to turn midway though."

Whatever response his father had prepared was put on hold by the sound of knocking at the door. A timid, muffled voice drifted in from the other side, "B-beg pardon, Your Majesty, but His Highness Prince Alfonse requested I locate and bring him a tome from the Royal Library as soon as possible and I believe I've found what he desired."

Gustav turned from the paned glass and didn't hesitate to grant the scribe access with a single commanding word, "Enter."

The door slowly swung open to reveal the same bookish scribe Alfonse had spoken to the previous night. Judging by the dark rings under his eyes, he'd spent every hour since then tirelessly working to fulfill the request. He deeply bowed and held out a decrepit, moth-eaten tome, which Alfonse took with a word of gratitude. Silently, the scribe exited, his back still bent in submission to the royal family.

"I take it that would be the legend into which you've placed all your hopes?" Gustav pointedly asked.

"I believe it's contained within these pages, yes. This certainly looks like the book we have in Castle Odelia." He began flipping to the spot in the text he knew to contain the legend, taking care not to damage the frail paper. Sure enough, the familiar words about Askr's Great Hero greeted him at the appropriate spot – though his eyes widened when he realized it was slightly longer than the version he knew.

"Is something the matter, Alfonse?" Henriette inquired when she saw the surprise on his face.

"No, there's nothing wrong." He assured them. "It's just…there's a bit more here than I thought there'd be. We must've been working with a slightly incomplete version."

"Oh?" His father was quick to seize upon that oversight. "I should hope you haven't had a revelation that's caused you to regret fulfilling that legend."

"There's nothing like that!" He immediately denied. "At a glance, I think the only new information here relates to how people are summoned and returned home. Everything else looks the same." More specifically, it related to how heroes summoned by Kiran would be returned home. There was still nothing on sending the Great Hero himself back to where he came from, which Alfonse knew would only exacerbate the summoner's grief.

"Then enough gawking at what you already know." Gustav chastised him and held out his hand. "It's high time I see for myself what all this fuss is about."

Alfonse felt beads of sweat roll down the back of his neck; everything would be for naught if, even after his attempts at placation, his father was still dissatisfied with the legend itself. All the same, he dutifully handed over the tome.

He watched with bated breath as Gustav's eyes glided back and forth across the pages, Henriette following along over his shoulder. Unlike Kiran, who distinctly displayed his reactions to the legend as he read it, his parents' expressions were guarded and unreadable. He couldn't say how much time passed before Gustav shut the tome and laid it to rest on his desk without a word. Several moments of tense silence later, the king shut his eyes and let forth a tired, disgruntled sigh as he sank back into his seat.

"Alfonse," he began, "do you or your sister actually realize why I forbade you from looking into old Askran legends?"

For the second time that meeting, Alfonse was caught off guard by his father's choice of topic. "Oh, well, it was because you didn't want us wasting our time futilely chasing fantastic stories when there was a war to fight, was it not?"

"That was certainly a part of it, yes. And yet, even after one of them has borne fruit, I am clearly still displeased. Can you not think of any reasons why I would frown on using this legend to win the war?"

Alfonse frowned at the challenge. Now that his father pointed it out, he wasn't sure why he would still have reservations. The legend had proven to be true and had already had a positive impact on the war effort. What downsides could there possibly be? Sure, Alfonse had expected to be reprimanded for disobeying direct orders, but he didn't see the point in being admonished for recent successes.

In the wake of Alfonse's silence, Gustav shook his head. "I can see you've no idea what I'm talking about. Then allow me to enlighten you. Should things continue as they are, when this war ends, it will not be seen as a victory for Alfonse, Prince of Askr. Rather, it will be seen as victory for Kiran and his Order of Heroes. You will not be a victor – you will be merely an accessory to victory."

Alfonse's eyes widened at his father's prediction. Kiran wants nothing to do with Askr! For that matter, neither do the other heroes! They will not linger to reap rewards and glory, they will all merely wish to return to their homes! "But father –!"

Gustav held up a single palm and Alfonse's protests died on his lips. "Naturally, this all applies to your sister as well. When you take my place on the throne, you will be regarded as the weakling who fled into the arms of strangers to fight his battles for him. The people will have no faith in you, the aristocracy will undermine your authority, and Nifl and Muspell will see you as a coward to be intimidated and browbeaten. Even Embla may think you harmless without your Great Hero and seek to rebuild its strength and reignite the conflict."

"This would've been your fate regardless of what your legend did. No matter what happened, you would have sought to triumph with strength that was not your own and, in the process, enfeebled yourself in the eyes of the world. That is why I did not want you seeking solutions in forgotten legends. Even if Kiran and the Order should sing your praises and insist you alone were the beacon they followed into victory, it will not change the gut perceptions of onlookers. Being a ruler is more than winning battles, my son. You must also win the hearts and minds of those around you. And you cannot be the light the people look to if you are constantly outshone by the allies with which you have surrounded yourself."

Alfonse hung his head, aghast at the picture his father painted. He knew Kiran and the Order wouldn't actively try to sabotage his rule like that…but then, Gustav had pointed out that they would do as much no matter how noble their intentions. "I…if I have set such events in motion, then…" Alfonse nervously swallowed, "…what am I to do? Shall we disband the Order, even after the good it has done? Shall we take our chances without them, even after we have seen how poor said odds are?" There were pragmatic reasons to keep the Order, obviously, but he privately admitted he had personal purposes as well. He had made friends in the Order, like Sir Virion and Sir Clive, and his heart ached at the thought of seeing them gone so soon.

"I have already told you once: I am no fool." Gustav reaffirmed. "I'd have to be a witless worm to ignore how the Order's actions have momentarily tipped the scales in our favor. If I understand you and this legend correctly, it will only grow more powerful as it fights and adds to its ranks. And you are only here because word of it has spread throughout the kingdom. Effectively, a great deal of the damage to your credibility has already been done, and removing it at this point would only hamper our efforts. With all that in mind, I will countenance its existence – provided you ensure it is properly brought beneath the crown's thumb."

The crown's thumb? What does he mean by that?

Alfonse's apparent confusion prompted Gustav to begin clarifying. "I outlined your future in the case that things continue as they are, with the Order operating independently of my authority. Should we make it more of a subset of the royal purview, we can mitigate the negative impact it will have on your prestige. For one, there will be no more offensives like that fire without my approval. Like my generals, I will have you send a messenger pigeon before making any large decisions, and I will have you send detailed reports of the results of any campaigns."

Alfonse's reluctance must have shown on his face because Gustav immediately began soothing his fears. "That is not the hinderance it may seem – the more informed I am of the Order's impact, the better I can organize Askr's grand strategy. I'm sure Duke Savaric would've preferred knowing beforehand that there was going to be a manpower shortage in Embla's forces, rather than having to hastily take advantage of it as it became apparent."

Alfonse slowly nodded along; it admittedly made sense, even if he knew Kiran would be unhappy with the added red tape. "For another, I would have you keep your distance from these so-called 'heroes'." The prince's head snapped back up in shock at his father's instructions. "This war is not an excuse for you to make friends, Alfonse. The more removed you are from the Order, the less its successes will be tied to yours. If you are seen as nothing but another soldier in its ranks, what little you accomplish will be conflated as a victory for the Order. Fight and live with them if you must, but do not tie your heart to theirs."

He wanted to argue. He wanted to protest and demand that he not be made to break the bonds he had formed. Were Sharena there with him, friendly and outgoing as she was, he wondered if the two of them would have the strength to oppose their father on this one decree. If he had Kiran's contempt for authority, he would have brazenly defied Askr's patriarch a dozen times over by now. But he did not have Sharena by his side and he wasn't Kiran. So, like he always did, he obsequiously bowed his head and intoned the usual two words: "Yes, father."

Gustav gave an infinitesimal nod of approval. "I anticipate we will not have cause to see each other again for some time. Nor should I wish us to – you have your role and I have mine, and Askr will be best served if we play our parts without getting in each other's way. I don't want to have to recall you to the capital to set you straight a second time. Am I clear, Alfonse?"

"Yes, father."

Gustav brought forth an ink quill and began shuffling papers around. "Very well, then. Your mother will see you out. Do what you will with the rest of the day; I trust you know how to make yourself productive. Depart first thing in the morning and do not delay in making my directives known to the Order. Dismissed." The king didn't even look up from his documents as he sent away his only son.

Henriette scooped up the tome from the desk and gently nudged Alfonse's shoulder to prompt him from his seat. He silently complied and followed her out into the hallway, his head hung low all the way.

"Alfonse," she tenderly addressed him once they were some distance away from Gustav's office, "you understand that your father only wants what's best for you, don't you? We both do."

"I understand that nothing I ever do is good enough for him." He morosely replied and stopped in his tracks. He felt like a child who'd just been castigated for trying to steal sweets. He had liked to think he'd accomplished something truly great by fulfilling that legend, but his father still had nothing but criticisms for him.

"Oh, hush." Henriette comforted him by wrapping her arm around his shoulder and planting a kiss on the top of his head. "He's too stubborn to say it out loud, but we're both very proud of you. He only expects so much out of you because he knows you'll rise to meet the challenge."

"If that's how father feels, then he has a funny way of showing it." He grumbled, his head turned away from her.

She huffed and lightly pinched his cheek. "That's enough doom and gloom out of you, mister. It's a good thing Sharena is around to keep you from frowning so much that your face gets stuck that way. Speaking of," her voice grew softer and her pinch turned to a gentle caress, "tell her to write to me, won't you? I want regular letters from the both of you on what you've been up to. I know you'll be awfully busy, but it's a mother's job to fuss about her children."

Alfonse pulled her hand away from his face and rubbed over her knuckles in reassurance. "I'm sure Sharena won't need any extra encouragement to write and I swear to make as much time as I can. And," he lightly gripped her palm and looked her in the eye, "I promise I'll keep her safe. We'll both do our best to stay in one piece, so don't worry about us too much, mother."

"My little boy has grown up so fast…" She wistfully remarked before shaking her head and recomposing herself. "Now then! That's enough sentimentality for one day. Your father said you have to be productive," a clever grin grew from her lips, "and I should think there's nothing more important than the prince informing the queen of all that he's been doing in her absence. So, why don't we go have ourselves a little tea party and you can start filling in your mother on everything she's missed!"

Alfonse chuckled in spite of himself and began walking at Henriette's side. "I believe I've more than enough stories to fill the rest of the day. For starters, Sharena had something of a feud with a princess Kiran summoned…"

The reunion between father and son had come and gone, and Alfonse couldn't say whether it had exceeded or fallen short of his expectations. Though the Order would continue to fight on Askr's behalf, it would have to restructure its approach and face reluctant apathy from the prince who sponsored it in the first place. He should have been a nervous wreck, constantly fiddling in his mind over how to break the news or begin killing his nascent bonds with the heroes. Yet, as he whittled away the hours recollecting with his mother, Askr's prince was able to momentarily forget the newfound pressure on his shoulders.


A day had passed since the mock battle fiasco, and Kiran could at least say he was no longer down in the dumps over his failure. No, instead his defeatism had fully transformed into frustration and resentment at his own powerlessness of late. For once, he was storming down his tower steps with a purpose: no matter how long it took or how hard he had to argue, he was going to make Anna allow him to organize and go on a patrol. Lunch time had just started, so he was confident some of the more restless heroes would be willing to back him up.

He'd barely taken a dozen steps in the halls of the housing wing before a furious voice from behind stopped him cold. "You!" He spun around to see Jane, looking absolutely livid. Her teeth were bared and her right hand had an iron grip around the handle of her sword, which was visibly palpitating with a vibrant violet glow. "I have waited long enough!" She snarled and began advancing towards him. "I've smelled the blood-stained iron passing through these walls too many times! You will give me prey now…or I'll kill you where you stand!"

He backed up against the wall and held his hands up as she closed in. "Okay, okay! I was just on my way to demand Anna let me take a patrol out, so you can tag along! We'll head out and spend the afternoon looking for Emblians to kill, alright?" By now, she was practically breathing into his face and had her sword resting against the underside of his ribs.

He was scared that she might refuse even that slight delay and kill him anyway, but his fears were proven misplaced when she merely gripped his collar and sent him stumbling down the hall. "Get moving." She ordered, the coldness in her voice promising he'd regret it if he hesitated.

Fuck, that curse is insane… he thought as he quickened his pace, Jane closely following behind. It was crazy to think that there was a normal girl buried underneath all of that, and even crazier to think that there might be some way to bring her out of it. If he hadn't seen the side of her he did, he might've just asked Kaze to bump her off by this point.

He almost felt like a condemned criminal heading for the electric chair as he made for the dining hall with Jane breathing over his shoulder. It was no wonder everyone had refused to fight with her up till now, though a few of them would have to get over it this once. Hell, maybe his demands would be more likely to be met if they had her threats of violence backing them.

He pushed open the dining hall door to find himself the last to arrive. He drew everyone's attention and started to earn a greeting from Sharena. "Hey, Kiran! The cooks made a great potato stew, so hurry up before –" she choked on her words when she saw Jane follow him through the door, probably with her features contorted into a ferocious glare. The others were similarly put on edge by the girl's presence; he even saw Ayra warily rest her hand on her sheathed blade's handle as a precautionary measure.

The thick tension in the air made it difficult to get a grip on his nerves, but he still mustered what confidence he could and walked to the table. "Anna," he began by placing both hands flat on the wood, "I'm here to put an afternoon patrol together. One that I'll be a part of. I'm not pussyfooting around this anymore; I haven't summoned anyone else in nearly a month and it's high time we got some fresh faces around here."

Anna spared a leery glance for Jane before turning to him with her usual sternness. "Kiran, I've told you once and I'll tell you again: it's just too risky to let you go traipsing around on a patrol when anything could happen. Not to mention His Majesty put a moratorium on the Order's military activities. Until Alfonse gets back with the results of their meeting, there won't be any fighting from us."

No sooner had Anna finished rebuking him than Jane's sword embedded itself in the table inches away from his hands. "No!" She resisted, even as the heroes sprang to their feet and drew their weapons in the face of her threat. "No more delays! No more cowardice! By the end of the day I swear I'll have someone's heart on the tip of the blade! And if you won't let me have one of Embla's…"

"Kiran, get away from her!" Sharena implored, her lance gripped in both hands due to her shield's absence. "You don't have to force yourself to go on a patrol just because she threated you if you didn't do this!"

He saw Jane sizing up how dangerous everyone was. Maria was hiding behind Haar, her fear of the imminent fight plain to see. Virion had a clear shot right at her head, yet his eyes were locked on his, silently beseeching him to make a break for it. Odin and Nino had fledgling spells floating above their tomes, ready to fire if anyone made any sudden moves (though the former looked reluctant to attack her, knowing what he did). And he, caught in the middle of it all, couldn't help but feel sick of losing control. Ever since he'd officially become the tactician, it felt like he'd done nothing but go with the flow and let everything around him fall apart. Now, just because he was trying to do his job as the summoner, there was about to be a bloodbath in the heart of the Order. With all that in mind, it was little wonder he did what he did.

"EVERYONE, STOP!" He commanded, his arms stretched out between Jane and the rest of the heroes. "All of you, put your weapons down now!" He glared directly at Jane, who was defiantly scowling at him in return. "That includes you, Jane! Put it away and stand down!"

She made no movements and began to snarl at him, "I will not –"

"If you don't back off, Virion will plug your head with an arrow and Odin or Nino will roast your corpse! You'll die and have nothing to show for it! Yield before you get yourself killed because of your own stupidity!"

She took a moment to scan the dining hall once more before fixing her scowl back on him. Then, very reluctantly, she loosed the tension in her muscles and fell out of her combative stance. The others, however, looked to be in no hurry to follow her lead.

"I told everyone to put their weapons down!" He reaffirmed, turning his glare on all of them. "This whole 'peace' thing doesn't work unless everybody goes along with it, you know!" The sane heroes shared a look amongst each other and, with as much hesitance as Jane, slowly dropped their hostile postures as well – though they were still keenly on edge.

Now that there was no more threat of violence, Kiran let his arms droop at his side and heaved a heavy sigh. "Let's try this again." He looked at Sharena. "First of all, I'm not being coerced into this. Our reasons are completely different, but it just so happens that Jane and I both want the same thing: to go out and fight after weeks of doing nothing."

He turned to Anna for his next point. "Now, if I remember correctly, we were just supposed to stop doing stuff until Alfonse could talk things over with his dad. It's noon and he left yesterday morning – I should think they've already met and discussed everything. If the Order is allowed to go on, we're just being proactive by doing patrols again as soon as possible. If it isn't, we're all in hot water anyway and it makes no difference if we pick one last fight with Embla. So going on a patrol this afternoon is a win-win scenario, especially since I'm pretty sure nobody else wants to be stuck at the castle all day." He shot a demanding look at the combat capable heroes and was rewarded with guilty shrugs and head tilts.

Anna stared very hard at him, her fingers drumming against the pommel of her axe. "…I can understand sending a patrol out." She capitulated. "I do not, however, considering letting you join them to be worth the risk."

Kiran pinched the bridge of his nose and aggravatedly clenched his eyes. "Anna, I'm the tactician for the Order. I didn't want that responsibility – you, Sharena and Alfonse pushed it onto me. Hell, even before that, you made me be the summoner by dragging me here in the first place. And now that I'm trying to do the jobs that you forced me into, you keep telling me to go play in the corner while the adults talk." He opened his eyes and glared at the now much more sheepish Commander. "Do you, or do you not, want me to be the Great Hero?"

"…I just want you to be safe." She confessed, her eyes avoiding his. "You're right – I'm responsible for your being here. And that means I'm also responsible for whatever happens to you. I don't want you to get yourself hurt when I can do something to stop it. Beyond the practical reasons that you need to be kept in good health…I don't know how I'll live with myself if I let anything befall you."

That…wasn't what he expected to hear. He'd honestly thought she saw him as more of an asset to be kept safe and secure on a pedestal until it was needed. It was sobering to be told that she was handling him with kid gloves out of senses of guilt and personal liability. Instantly, he could feel himself lose some of the personal enmity with Anna that fueled his fire.

As he struggled to think of a new direction to take his case that didn't involve disparaging Anna, the rebuttal to her admission came from the most unlikely place imaginable. "He'll never be safe." They all turned to look at Jane, who was dispassionately gazing at some unknown sight in the distance. "This world…it is consumed by war. He sustains the bloodshed. While the rivers run red…he will know death. As will we all. Only by slaughtering the hapless hordes will any of you know peace." She hatefully spat the final word and seemed to be back in the moment.

"Loathe as I am to say it, she's right." Ayra granted. "We're all in peril – such is the fate of those who choose to fight. There's always a chance you'll see people you care about get hurt, but that's no excuse to hide them away. There's nothing to be done about it save gritting your teeth and pushing on despite the dangers."

Anna chewed on her lip as she mulled over the presented arguments. After much internal deliberation, she gave a resigned sigh and finally met Kiran's eyes again. "…If you're going to go out, you need to make a team that'll minimize the risk you face. For starters, you don't want to get caught off guard in an ambush, so you'll need to be able to spot enemy troops from far away."

Kiran immediately brightened up once he had Anna's tenuous approval and quickly began considering candidates. "Virion," he declared after a moment of thought, "you've got a sharp set of eyes. With you on the lookout, I don't expect those schmucks will get the drop on us."

The bluenette wasted no time rushing to Kiran's side and clasping his shoulder. "You needn't fear a thing, my friend. No Emblian rabble will come within a league of us without me noticing."

"That's one role taken care of." Anna accepted. "Considering your unique circumstances, I'd like there to be some way for you to be rapidly pulled out if anything goes wrong. Normally, the patrol would begin a fighting retreat, but they tend to rack up injuries doing that."

"And I can't be healed the way they can." He finished for her. "Well, even back home, an airlift was always the fastest way out of a sticky situation, so if we need somebody who can fly…" He looked at the three candidates. "Tana already fought yesterday and Haar would rather catch some shut eye, so how about it, Tanith? You're the only one of the trio I haven't fought with, after all."

The deputy commander took her time compared to Virion, but her measured stride exuded confidence. "As if I would ever refuse. I don't expect you'll even need my help retreating – I can't remember the last time I let a battle come to that and I don't intend to give myself any fresh memories. I imagine I'll do better confirming Virion's observations from the air."

"That covers those concerns." Anna sighed. "Normally, I'd ask a healer to accompany a noncombatant, but it wouldn't do any good for you and we received a high influx of wounded yesterday, so…" she turned to their two medics, "unless either of you feels your presence is absolutely necessary for the others, you're better off here."

"I don't expect them to come to harm given the precautions already taken. I can do more good in the healing hall." Libra wasted no time offering his opinion.

Maria was slower to respond. "Well, I wouldn't mind going, but…Libra's right. I'll be more helpful with him."

"Alright then." Anna accepted their decisions and turned back to him. "You'll have Jane around for muscle, but since her abilities are unknown, I'd rather you have at least one other hero to help in a fight."

Kiran took a moment to think about that. Ayra was an obvious choice, but she also used a sword. They should probably have an axe or lance to balance out Tanith and Jane's weapon choices. That only left the question of whom to pick, and he was hardly lacking in options. Hell, maybe Odin or Nino would've been a good fit.

While he internally deliberated, one of the heroes decided to choose for him. "I volunteer!" He twisted his head, surprised to see Amelia with her hand shot up in the air and a determined look on her face.

"No, you don't." Camus shot her down right away. "I do not judge you or him to be fit for such an undertaking yet." He punctuated his assessment with a disapproving glance Kiran's way. "Given his station, I cannot help it if he runs off on a fool's errand, but as you are my charge, I will not allow to rush headlong into peril you are ill prepared for."

"But I am ready!" She protested. "I may not have been the one to beat you yesterday, but I still held my own. You aren't my first trainer, you know – I did pass the Grado army's standards. If they thought I was good enough to fight professional troops from Renais and Frelia, I'd like to think I'm good enough to fight Embla's rabble, especially after a few weeks with you." He noticed Tana flinch when her home was mentioned, but she gave no reaction beyond that. "Besides, didn't we just decide that being scared someone'll get hurt is no reason to keep them away from the action?"

Kiran prepared to make his own case for the blonde, but Kaze beat him to it. "It may not be my place to comment on this matter, but I can personally attest to Amelia's skill after our bout. If nothing else, she is superior to most common axe fighters from Nohr."

Camus shut his eyes and thought for several moments before responding. "…If you are so insistent, I'll not impede you further." He looked far from happy to say that, which was probably why he made a quick amendment. "But should you find yourself with perilous injuries after I warned you, I promise your brush with death will be the least of your concerns once you're back under my purview." She mildly blanched at his ominous threat, but gave him an assured nod all the same.

"Well, I have no objections." Kiran declared. "Welcome on board, Amelia."

She excitedly pumped her fist and hurried over to join him. "Don't worry about a thing, Kiran! I'm more than strong enough to protect you and the others!"

"A four-man team…" Anna mused. "The same number you worked with yesterday. Though, it's more like a four-woman team – something that I'm sure excites Virion to no end."

Virion didn't remotely try to contain the sly smile that sprung from his lips. "If fate should see fit to bless me with pleasant company during an unpleasant excursion, who am I to complain?"

"Fool." This time it was Jane, of all people, who shot him down. Though, Virion didn't seem particularly phased by it; the fact that she was out of her mind and not trying to make banter probably had something to do with it. "You have your team…now we go to spill blood."

"You interrupted our meal, you know." Tanith pointed out, not as afraid of the younger girl now that she'd been brought under heel once already. "I'd rather not fight on an empty stomach."

Jane began growling at the pegasus knight, prompting Kiran to put himself between them. "When was the last time you ate, Jane? Do you want to be too weak to kill anyone because you accidentally starved yourself? We can eat and then head out. You've waited this long – twenty more minutes won't kill you."

She gnashed her teeth and glowered at him, but still sat at the table and grabbed an abandoned, mostly full bowl. "Make it fast!" She barked at the newly formed team before shoveling stew into her mouth.

Uncomfortably, they all sat down and began finishing the meal they'd started. Sharena was gracious enough to hand Kiran her bowl while she went into the kitchens to request more helpings for her and Anna, whose food had been stolen by Jane. With no small amount of awkwardness, the other heroes also took up their old places at the table and started eating again. Their lunch was endured through an uneasy silence, save for one soft request issued by Sharena as the patrol team finished first and began to get up.

"Please, be safe, Kiran."


"Two targets, straight ahead."

They'd been out on patrol for about half an hour before Virion announced that he had figures in his sight. Immediately, Kiran motioned for everyone to get down to hide their profile on the horizon. Jane was slower to comply, since she perked up like a hound the instant Virion mentioned seeing anyone. Even Tanith managed to force her mount to the ground faster than he thought possible.

"Where, exactly?" Kiran asked. "I don't see anything." To him, it just looked like the same gentle hills dotted with shrubbery and sparse ruins that comprised all of Askr he'd ever seen.

"They're the two black dots between the collapsed wall and the tree missing leaves on its left side." It took him a minute, but once Virion specified the area, he could see the figures he mentioned, barely bobbing up and down to indicate motion. "They're growing smaller, which means they're moving away from us. I've seen Askran soldiers at this distance before when returning to the castle – they're a lighter shade against the horizon, which means these are Emblians we're looking at."

"They must be scouts." Tanith mused. "Probably gathering intelligence to assist a raiding party that will later come through the same area. Taking note of how worn the grass is and such to determine how often Askrans pass through."

"Whatever they're here for, they won't get back to the border." Kiran declared. "They're way too deep into Askr to expect any backup. That said, Tanith, get up in the air and scan around. Make sure they don't have friends nearby. Virion said they're headed away from us, so they shouldn't see you as you ascend."

"Understood." She pulled on her mount's reins and began to climb into the air without another word.

"Soon…" Jane mumbled to herself, a frenzied glint in her eye. "I can almost taste their blood…"

Amelia spared a disturbed glance for the possessed girl and shuffled closer to Kiran and Virion. "Hey, so, what's the plan, exactly?" She inquired, in what Kiran thought was mostly an attempt to distract herself from Jane's ramblings.

"Well, there's only two of them, assuming Tanith doesn't find anyone else." Kiran pointed out. "It won't exactly be hard to make a pincer movement. Hell, I bet Virion nails one of them before they even realize what's happening."

"Not like that…" Jane cut in. "An arrow's too quick…they won't suffer enough…"

"Wha– suffer?!" Amelia gasped, horrified. "We don't want them to suffer! If we have to kill them, so be it, but there's no justice in making their deaths as painful as possible!"

Jane glared at the Grado youth before shifting her ire to Kiran. "Why is she here? She's worthless and weak!"

Amelia had no trouble returning Jane's glower with one of her own. "Compassion isn't a weakness, you deranged –"

"Cut it out, both of you!" Kiran interrupted with an annoyed hiss. "We're here to fight the Emblians, not each other! Amelia, she's always like this, so just ignore her and focus on the mission. Jane, save it for the enemy or you won't be out here again any time soon!"

Before either of them could offer a rebuttal, Tanith returned, looking none the worse for wear. "Trouble in paradise?" She deadpanned with a raised eyebrow. "Those two are the only ones around, and they're taking their time. We should have no trouble catching up and encircling them."

That was a relief to hear. Two summons was a little low, but he wasn't going to complain about getting them practically for free with no risk. Better a walk in the park like this than a pitched battle with a whole other patrol. "Good work, Tanith. Here's the plan: when we close the gap, you stay behind them. Your pegasus is a little too conspicuous to get at any other angle. Virion, you try to take cover ahead of them to cut off their escape. If you can't manage that, stay with Amelia on their left. Jane, that leaves you on the right. When I shout 'now', Virion will shoot one and the ladies will converge on the survivor. Even if he bolts, I don't doubt Tanith is fast enough to catch him. Any questions?"

"Sounds good to me!" Amelia affirmed, looking very excited to get her first piece of action. The others settled for simple nods, though Jane's was noticeably more lackluster and vacant.

"Alright, then let's go. Remember, keep as quiet as possible so they don't realize we're here." They set out at a light jog, taking care to slow down the closer they got. As the distance closed, Kiran could make out more details of the two Emblians, like how one was shorter and stockier than the other and how they both had swords strapped to their belt. Once they could hear their voices carry on the wind, Kiran signaled everyone to fan out to their positions.

There was nothing immediately in front of them for Virion to hide behind, but several partially collapsed pillars on their left provided ample cover for him and Amelia. An overgrown patch of tall grass provided similar camouflage for Jane, leaving him and Tanith to creep behind them. He caught sight of Virion going ahead to the final pillar and resolved to give the signal when the scouts passed the penultimate one. He raised his fist and waited as they approached his designated kill zone.

And then, with no warning, Jane bolted from the undergrowth with her sword raised.

"What is she doing?!" Tanith hissed. The scouts were as surprised as them – as hastily as they tried to draw their swords, Jane had her blade plunged into the short one's gut before he could hope to defend himself. With strength belied by her small frame, she wrenched her handle across his belly, producing a tide of blood as his organs spilled from his body.

"God damn her!" Kiran cursed and raced forward, Tanith hot on his heels. Jane's sudden onslaught stunned Amelia and Virion into inaction, leaving them mere observers to her carnage. The other Emblian, while blatantly terrified, still tried to brandish his weapon against the monster who'd so easily slaughtered his companion. His attempt was for naught, as she displayed startlingly masterful swordsmanship to literally disarm him at the wrist. He cried in pain and clutched his bleeding stump before stumbling backwards onto his rear in a futile attempt to escape his hunter. Although Kiran couldn't see it, he imagined Jane's face must have been contorted in maniacal glee as she lifted her blade to deal another blow.

"Jane, stop!" He couldn't say for sure why he called out to her. Maybe it was indignation at having his orders defied, or perhaps it was his humanity wishing to spare the poor scout further torment. Whatever his reason, the message reached her, and she stopped with her blade mere inches from the Emblian's chest.

As gratified as he felt to see her obey him, the look of pure, cold hatred she gave him almost made him wish he'd kept his peace. "Why should I?" She demanded. "You need him dead to summon, right? Isn't that what you said? We both want me to kill him, so stay out of my way!"

"He…" Kiran's mind raced to think of a reason to extend the man's life, even if just to let him die by someone else's hand. "He can give us information! Now that you've disarmed him, we can interrogate him about what's been going on in Embla!" That got her to pause again, this time while pressing her fist against her head. He recognized that gesture – if he wasn't mistaken, some part of her was struggling against the sword's curse.

"…Fine." She ground out through gritted teeth and backed away from the Emblian. "But when you're done, I get to kill him!"

"Yeah, sure thing." He absentmindedly assured, just glad to have gotten her to listen to him.

Amelia and Virion crawled over the pillars and joined them, the former looking pale as a ghost and holding her hand over her mouth. "By the gods…" she whispered, gravely disturbed by what she'd seen. The archer was little better; though he kept his composure, the aghast shock on his face was unmistakable. Still, his fortitude as a solider was unbroken, and he aimed his readied bow at the survivor to keep him from running.

Kiran prepared to ask questions from their unfortunate captive, but an agonized wheeze stopped him in his tracks. "Norman…please…help me…" He expected some pleading from the prisoner…but not his partner, whom he'd thought instantly killed. Horrified, he turned to see Jane's first victim twitching and gasping in a puddle of his own gore.

"No…dear Gods, please no…" Amelia muttered and began numbly shaking her head. When the dying man coughed up blood and accidentally pushed out a bit of his intestines in the process, Amelia spun around and hunched over a fallen pillar to start throwing up the stew she'd eaten not an hour earlier. Had he not already been somewhat desensitized to such sights, Kiran likely would've joined her – he could barely keep his food down as was.

"Still alive, huh?" Jane taunted with a cruel smirk. "That's good…it's no fun if you die too fast…" Abruptly, he realized why he was so distraught at Jane's handiwork when Ayra's hadn't upset him nearly as much. As brutal as the princess could be, her strikes were ultimately intended to kill as quickly as possible by striking vitals. Jane, by contrast, had intentionally avoided hitting anything that would've swiftly ended his life, choosing instead to prioritize inflicting as much pain as possible.

Kiran couldn't bear to watch any more; he shut his eyes and twisted away from the gruesome sight. "Someone, please, put him out of his misery." He heard the hooves of Tanith's pegasus trot towards the body. One nauseating squelch later, and the choked gasps finally stopped.

He dared to peek up when she moved to his side and found the tip of her sword glistening red. "We're wasting time, Kiran. Let's ask our questions and be done with this." Of the four normal heroes, she was clearly the most composed, not allowing any discomfort to show on her features. Idly, he wondered what sights she must've seen in her time to be able to hold herself together so well even in a situation like this.

He turned his attention back to the final scout (Norman, apparently), who was clutching his severed wrist in the crook of his armpit and quaking in fear. "Please! Please, don't kill me! I'll tell you whatever you want, just keep that demon away from me!"

"Be quiet!" Kiran loudly ordered, hoping the additional volume would hide the quiver in his voice. "First of all, what were you and he doing here? What was your mission and how was it supposed to help Embla in the long run?"

"W-we were supposed to gather information on Askr's forces here. You guys burned that fort down, and then our raiding parties stopped coming back for a few days last week, so command wanted to know what was going on." Kiran narrowed his eyes. We already figured as much. I guess it was too much to expect a random grunt to have anything new.

His dissatisfaction with the given intel must've shown on his face, because Norman began frantically amending his statement. "T-that's not all! We…we also told that Askr has some new conquering hero! Yeah, t-they said to keep an eye out for anyone who looked more important than the usual Askran." He considered whom he was speaking to and his eyes began widening in shock. "Oh Gods…i-it's you, isn't it? You're the only one who looks Askran…and who else but a hero could control a monster like her?"

Shit…guess that confirms that Embla's starting to wise up to our little game. Really, he should've been thankful that it took Embla so long to get a clue. And they still didn't really know anything substantial…so long as Norman never took the information back to them. "Never mind that! Who gave you your orders? Who's in command in this area?"

He looked a bit more reluctant to reveal that information, but a slight raise of Tanith's blood-stained sword was all it took to loosen his lips. "General Wilmarc! I-it was General Wilmarc! H-he didn't give us our orders specifically, but I know these scouting missions were his idea. After something went wrong in the east, Her Highness personally sent the general to make sure we didn't lose any more forts. H-he's a tall blonde with a scar on his left cheek and he stays in Castle Beruvik, on the old border. That's all I know, I swear!"

"He speaks the truth." Tanith remarked. "I recognize the desperation of a man who has nothing left to give."

"Good…" Jane purred. "Now I can finish what I started…"

When she began stalking back towards him, Norman started desperately scrambling backwards until his back hit mossy stone. "No! Keep her away, I beg of you! I've a wife and two daughters waiting for me! Please, have mercy!"

"Stop this!" Amelia cried, holding her poleaxe out to stop Jane's movement. "Kiran, we can't kill him! He's defenseless and he's surrendered! It'd be murder to kill him when he's not even a threat!"

"Out of my way!" Jane snarled and gripped the elongated handle of Amelia's weapon. "His life is mine to take! I won't be denied by the likes of you!"

"Both of you, stop!" Kiran ordered. "I…I don't want to do this, Amelia, but we have no other choice. What would you have me do?"

"We…" Amelia visibly struggled to think of an alternative, "we can just take him prisoner! You know, keep him in a cell for the rest of the war."

I wish it was that simple, Amelia. He somberly thought with a shake of the head. I really do. "We don't have any means of holding prisoners. I specifically asked Alfonse about that weeks ago – the castle was built to house foreign dignitaries, so it has no dungeon."

She grimaced at her proposal being so easily shot down, but quickly rebounded with another. "Then, just let him go! He'll never be able to fight again with his dominant hand gone, right?"

"I know you're not that naïve, Amelia." Virion admonished, his aim still squarely on Norman's trembling form. "He knows far too much to be let free. Not only has he seen Kiran's face, but Jane let slip a few details about how the summoning works. Believe me, I find all of this as reprehensible as you, but he's simply too dangerous to be left alive."

Norman let out a fearful whimper at Virion's grave words, prompting Amelia to redouble her efforts. "Then…then…" she sputtered, unable to conceive of any other options.

"I-I could defect!" Norman exclaimed. "I've no love for Embla, I s-swear! I would happily join Askr!"

Amelia perked up with renewed hope in response to Norman's proposal. Kiran himself wasn't too thrilled – the way he saw it, any guy willing to defect because his life was on the line couldn't be trusted. Tanith thought similarly, judging by her response, "Despicable. When faced with death, an individual will reveal their true character. And you are willing to betray your homeland to save your sorry skin. If you've so little loyalty to Embla, you'll have no hesitation stabbing us in the back just the same." She fiercely scowled at the Emblian and tightened her fist around her sword. "I say you should be rewarded as a traitor deserves."

Yeah, that figures. She already holds one hell of a grudge against Haar for defecting from Begnion decades ago, and there wasn't even a war going on when he did that. It's no wonder she'd hate Norman for trying to do it right to her face.

"No!" Amelia further objected. "Lady Tanith, you can't mean that!" She desperately darted her eyes around the group, but it was clear she was the sole voice of dissent. "Kiran, please! You can't do this! It's evil! It's wrong!"

"That's enough, Amelia!" Tanith barked. "You've made your case, and now your commanding officer will make a decision. And whatever his orders, you will carry them out. Do I make myself clear?" The blonde withered under Tanith's stern glare and gave her a rapid, silent nod.

Looking at Norman, cowering and crying while his maimed wrist soaked his slapdash armor scarlet, Kiran couldn't help but feel like Amelia was right. On a purely emotional level, executing an unarmed prisoner was nothing like watching soldiers fall in the chaos of battle. Every moral fiber in his being cried out at him to find another solution.

But on a logical level, he knew what had to be done. Not only was this necessary to fuel the Breidablik, it was also necessary to appease Jane. Hopefully, a way to cleanse her sword would be discovered soon…but until it was, indulging her madness was the only way to keep her under control.

Kiran's resignation must've shown on his face, because when he glanced back at Amelia, she settled for one final plea. "Please…just don't let her do it." She implored with tears in the corners of her eyes.

He shifted his gaze to the girl in question, who looked insulted at the mere thought of not being allowed the final blow. "We had a deal, Kiran." She growled, reminding him of their agreement when she was first summoned.

She'll help as long as I give her 'sufficient prey'…

He shook his head, ashamed of himself for condemning Norman to such an awful end. "I'm sorry, Amelia, but she's right; we had a deal." He looked Jane in the eyes and gave her the strictest scowl he could. "Make it fast, Jane. I'm giving you your 'prey', so don't drag it out any longer than it has to be."

She scoffed and narrowed her eyes. "You're no fun. Then again…" her lips curled in sadistic glee, "they don't usually live long enough to be this afraid of me. His terror while I do it should make up the difference…"

Kiran stepped aside to give Jane clear access to stalk towards her helpless victim. "No! Please! Please!" Norman continued to beg with increasing desperation. Kiran, unable to watch any more, turned his back to the Emblian and did his best to block out his pleading screams. He saw Amelia grip her poleaxe and tense the muscles in her legs, as if she was about to try and intervene, but Tanith cut her off and readied her sword in clear warning of what would happen if Amelia didn't stay put.

Once Norman's wails turned from begging to excruciating as Jane did her work, Amelia let her weapon fall limply to her side. He caught her eyes, and the look of betrayal that filled them made him feel less like a hero and more like a corrupt executioner. How could you? Her expression demanded of him. I did what I had to do. He silently returned, not remotely comforted by his own justification. She shook her head, no more assured than he was.

"Ah, it's been too long…" Jane remarked, sounding rather pleased with herself. Against his better judgement, Kiran turned back around…and immediately wished he hadn't. Norman's ribcage had been split open and, as Jane promised, she'd ripped his heart out with the tip of her sword. Her dress, which had already been blotched red from her initial attack, was now soaked in blood, and indescribable bits of gore dripped from her fingers. "I'm satisfied for now." She informed him with a content grin, her lips smeared sanguine.

"Let's just go back." Amelia whispered, her voice dull and empty.

Kiran shared her sentiment, since wanted nothing more than to lock himself up in his tower and try to forget what he'd just seen, but there was still a matter to attend to. "We will in a minute. But first," he glared as best he could at the blood bathed girl, "we need to talk about discipline. We had a plan, Jane, and you completely ignored it to do your own thing!"

She distastefully curled her lip. "Please. You didn't need a plan to kill weaklings like those two. Even that soft-hearted girl could've done what I did." Amelia mildly bristled at her derogatory tone, but it seemed her heart wasn't fully in it now that they were the only ones around.

"That isn't the point! It's the principle of the matter – how can I take you into battles if I can't trust you to do what I say?"

He knew he was walking thin ice by disrupting her rare good mood, but if he didn't address this here and now, her flippant disregard for his authority would only get worse. Judging by the way she clutched her skull again, he was doing the right thing and somehow appealing to Jane's real personality. "I know my strength." She asserted after a pause. "If there was something I couldn't handle…I'd have followed your plan. There wasn't, so I didn't. Arrows, spells…the weapons of cowards who won't fight me head on…I'd let you deal with them."

Guess that's as good as I can hope to get out of her. "For your sake, I hope you're right." He cautioned. "Alright, let's go home."

He and Virion spared one last look for the carnage Jane had created before they all began trudging back the way they'd came. They felt more like a funeral procession than a triumphant patrol – even Tanith's lips were taut and her eyes downcast now that all was said and done. Steadfast and professional as she was, he knew she wasn't heartless and must've been disturbed on some level by the experience.

"Why are you being so pathetic?" Jane noticed their depressed mood and was confused that no one enjoyed the slaughter as she had. "We set out to kill and now two wastes of skin are dead. Isn't this what you wanted? Shouldn't you be happy?"

Amelia couldn't stand one more second of Jane's sociopathy and twisted her head back with a furious glare. "We aren't happy because we're not soulless monsters like you! Normal people don't want to watch someone die like that you sick, twisted freak! If Kiran has any heart at all, he'll send you back to whatever vile hole you crawled out of!" Her fire died as soon as it came, leaving her to cover her eyes with her gauntlet clad hand. Without another word, she quickened her pace to get away from them.

Kiran sank his head – he didn't miss that some of her ire had been reserved for him as the one who primarily countenanced Jane's depravity. "Tch. How pitiful." Jane disparaged Amelia once she was gone. "She's nothing but dead weight. At least you three have proven yourselves. I thought the Order was nothing but feeble cowards."

Knowing that he had Jane's approval made Kiran feel even worse, and he suspected Virion and Tanith took it the same way. "Jane, please, just shut the hell up." He implored with a shake of the head. "And, for the love of God, take a bath before the day's up. You look and smell like a corpse – the last thing anyone wants is for the castle to stink of death."

She actually raised an eyebrow in genuine bewilderment. "I haven't wasted my time with that so far. Why would I start now?"

He had to stifle a gag at that particular revelation. "Goddammit, Jane, just do it! If you go to the end of your hall, take a left and keep going, the women's bath is beyond the double doors on the right. If you need a reason, you won't be able to kill anyone because they'll all smell you coming a mile away! Okay?!"

She looked ready to keep arguing until he mentioned how her bloodlust could be denied. "…Fine." She apathetically acquiesced.

Kiran couldn't help but let out a little sigh of exasperation. Putting up with Jane was mentally exhausting even when he didn't have to bear witness to her savagery. Even knowing that he wouldn't have to worry about her for the near future did little to assuage his stress. Despite their apparent success, he knew he'd have to deal with Amelia at some point, just as he knew this experience would haunt him the same way the fort raid did.


For once, Amelia didn't know what to do.

She was sitting in front of a training dummy in one of the indoor training ranges, her axe resting across her legs. She'd been there ever since they returned from the patrol. While Kiran went off to report to Commander Anna, and Tanith and Virion began relaying what transpired to the others, she had wandered off to be alone. She'd intended to distract herself with training, but found she couldn't muster a drop of motivation and simply fell there, trying to keep her mind off things.

On one hand, part of her didn't want to leave the whole Order behind. She still deeply respected her mentor, Sir Camus, and had become close to heroes like Princess Tana…too close to easily see her as an enemy again. But on the other hand, staying would mean continuing to work with that inhuman madwoman, not to mention Tanith and Virion, who countenanced her cruelty. And of course, remaining there would condemn her to taking orders from Kiran, who was willing to indulge every depraved desire of Jane's as long as she fought for him.

"So, this is where you've been." She swung her head to see Sir Camus standing at the entrance of the room, looking as composed and chivalrous as ever. "I've been informed of the patrol's events by Lady Tanith. In particular, it has been brought to my attention how you acted." He frowned and began striding towards her. "I have not trained you to be insubordinate, Amelia."

"Insub– is that how she put it?!" Amelia incredulously demanded and shot to her feet. "Did she even tell you what they did? Did she tell you how they all just stood there and watched while that monster murdered a defenseless man? Is it insubordination to try and stop senseless slaughter?!"

"I am aware of everything that transpired." He coolly responded. "You know, as well as I do, that your patrol was organized with the intent of locating and killing Emblians in Askran territory so that Kiran could use their deaths to summon more heroes. In attempting to prevent the death of an enemy combatant, you actively undermined the efforts of your mission." He raised an eyebrow, challenging her to defy him. "Am I wrong?"

"He wasn't an enemy combatant!" She refuted. "He had no weapon! He surrendered! It's one thing to kill a soldier in the heat of battle, but murdering them when they're helpless on the ground and begging for their life is inexcusable! It's evil!"

Camus paused for a moment, his expression unusually pensive. "This is more than a moral dispute." He identified and narrowed his eyes. "You have a personal reason to be this incensed, don't you?"

She flinched in spite of herself in the face of his accusation. He was right, of course – watching Norman's final moments brought back a flood of memories of her childhood. She recalled every horrid detail as bandits descended upon her village, slaughtering innocent villagers – friends she's known her whole life – who begged for their lives. She remembered how, while she hid under the bed, her mother pleaded with them, only to be dragged off to Gods knew what fate. She had sworn to herself that she'd become strong enough to never let something like that ever happen again…and then she'd stood there helpless as history repeated itself.

"…I promised myself I'd always fight for justice." She quietly admitted, her vision blurring with fresh tears. "To me, that means not letting someone die scared and alone while they beg for their life."

An uneasy silence stretched on for several minutes as Camus took in her confession. "…It isn't my place to pry." He said, his voice much softer than earlier. "Your past, and your reasons, are your own. But know this: that man was not innocent. Whatever you've lived through, you must understand that he came to this land with the intent of killing its inhabitants in the name of his regent. However awful his demise, he chose to risk such a fate when he took up arms against Askr."

She knew he was right. She knew that, but she couldn't stop her heart from aching. "He had a wife and children…" She whispered, more out of grief than any attempt to convince Camus.

"And Princess Maria has two older siblings whom she dearly loves." He countered without missing a beat. "Sir Clive has a lover he deeply misses. The common Askrans who fill the castle have loved ones for which they fight. Would you rather they died in that Emblian's place? Would you rather their families be bereaved instead?"

"No!" She instantly rejected his insinuation, distraught at the mere thought. "I could never want that! I just…" she defeatedly hung her head, "I don't want anyone to lose the people they care about…" She didn't need to be told how impossible and naïve that was; she knew how childish she was being, yet still her natural empathy caused her more heartbreak anyway.

Camus sighed, though it sounded far wearier and strained than his usual voice. When she dared to pull her head up, she saw him look more tired and vulnerable than he ever had before. "War is a horrid thing, Amelia." He gingerly intoned. "It destroys lives, rips apart families and breeds hatred amongst those who participate in it. For one side to know the glory of victory, another must suffer the sting of defeat. However despicable you think that patrol was, let me assure you that I have personally done worse. As a knight of Grust, I will do whatever I must in the service of my motherland. No matter how black it stains my soul or how much it cuts me off from my fellow man."

He looked directly into her eyes, his gaze once more as hard as it usually was. "Grado would've had you believe Princess Tana was a demon wreathed in human skin. As Kiran said, they did that to prevent this very conversation. That does not make it right…but it does put things into perspective. Wherever you go, and whomever you serve, you will spread woe by wielding a weapon. If that is a burden you are unwilling to bear, there is no shame in admitting so and choosing another path in life."

She'd somewhat considered that angle, though Camus put it into a broader scope than she had. She had seen firsthand that Frelians were no different than she was – could she return home and cut them down for Emperor Vigarde without a second thought? More than that, could she bear to serve in an army that still bought into all the lies that she once had? Much as she'd vilified Virion, Tanith and Kiran, she knew they took no more pleasure in Jane's slaughter than she did. If war would cause misery no matter where she went, wouldn't it be better to fight alongside people who regarded their work with the distaste it was due?

Camus, apparently in an attempt to give her the privacy he felt her deliberation was due, began making his way out of the room. As he neared the exit, she let one final thought be known, the truth of which she was absolutely certain. "Even with everything you've said…I refuse to believe she's anything but pure evil."

He paused in the doorway, and by the way he clenched his fist, she could tell he knew whom she was talking about. "Yes, she is." He agreed, disgust dripping off every word.


Kiran didn't know how much more of this he could take.

He thought he'd seen it all at the fort and that nothing else would ever phase him as much as that. But he never could've prepared himself for the crushing guilt of ordering the execution of a defenseless prisoner. At least in the raid, every sordid detail sort of blurred together into a chaotic mess. Even his near-death experience was somewhat alleviated by the rush of relief from seeing Tana burst from the smoke to save him. This, on the other hand…

God, is this what Tana meant by seeing the face of the dead everywhere?

When they'd returned, the first thing he'd done was give Anna a report on what happened. Happy as she and Sharena were to see him unharmed, they could immediately tell he'd been dealt a severe blow mentally. When he'd described what happened, they were as understanding as possible and assured him that he'd made the right call. Nice as their confidence was, it didn't make much difference when he kept seeing Norman's tear streaked face and hearing his beseeching cries.

The second he finished giving Anna his report, he sought out Libra and Odin for any kind of update on breaking the curse. When they regretfully informed that they'd barely made any progress due to lack of time, it sapped what little good will he had left in him. Almost immediately after hearing that, he locked himself in his office for the rest of the day. At some point, a servant came by to announce that dinner was served, but he'd sent her on her way to tell everyone he wasn't hungry. He was pretty sure he'd vomit the moment he even thought about eating, let alone tried to put something into his stomach.

A knock on his door drew a weary sigh from his lips; he figured someone would try to check on him, but he really wanted to be alone right now. He intended to just wait them out, maybe speak up if they were worried he was dead or something.

"Kiran, I know you're in there." Virion's muffled voice came from the other side. "It will do you no good to be in isolation at this trying time. I assured the others I would see to you, but if you keep yourself sequestered, I have no qualms about getting Libra to chop the door down."

Oh for fuck's sake… That was certainly one way to force his hand. Reluctantly, Kiran rose from his chair and shuffled over to let Virion in. "Can you please make this fast, Virion?" He requested once the bluenette became visible. "I'm really not in the mood."

He came through and shut the door behind him, the draft gently disturbing the lit candles around the room. "That attitude is precisely why my presence is needed." Virion said, his usual lofty joviality completely absent. "Dour as you can sometimes be, you've never been one to shun friendly company." He rested a comforting hand on Kiran's shoulder. "I've seen quite a lot in my time, Kiran. And I know it isn't healthy to be alone after witnessing today's sights."

Virion's empathetic gesture earned him a lump in Kiran's throat. He'd been trying to emotionally deaden himself to minimize the impact of Norman's death, but Virion's heartfelt consolation was threating to open his floodgates. He shrugged the hand off his shoulder and sat himself back into his chair.

"What even is there to talk about?" He demanded. "He's dead. He suffered. We let it happen. As far as I'm concerned, that's all there is to it."

Virion sat opposite him at the desk. "You know very well that keeping it all bottled up inside will only cause you further pain." He admonished the summoner. "Princess Tana is very sociable, you know. She was more than happy to tell me about how you were there when she needed you." Kiran winced at the mention of the Frelian princess – if ever there was proof that being left alone to wallow in misery was a bad idea, she was it. "Do you suppose she would've been better off without your intervention?"

"That's not the same thing!" Kiran refuted, though the waver in his voice betrayed how little he believed himself. "Tana thought she was a monster for killing someone. She was hysterical and not thinking clearly. I'm not like that! I know that I did what I had to do!" His voice began cracking towards the end of his spiel.

"If there were nothing else to the matter, why are you up here trying to avoid everyone?"

It was a simple question, delivered without any judgement. And yet, it was the straw that broke the camel's back, prompting tears to fall from his clenched eyes onto the oaken desk. "I don't know!" He sobbed and rested his head on an elbow-propped hand. "He was an enemy soldier invading Askr and he had to die…so why do I feel so awful about it? Why does it hurt so much to think about him when I've watched you all kill so many just like him?"

He felt both of Virion's hands on his shoulders this time. "Because, despite how much you try to play the jaded cynic, you are a good man at heart. Like all good men unaccustomed to such experiences, it grieves you to watch an average life meet such a horrifying end."

A good man, huh? I'm not a good man; I'm a hopeless idiot way out of his depth. He weakly shook his head despite Virion's assurances. "I can't do this anymore, Virion…" He gasped out between weeps. "This is all wrong. I shouldn't be here – reading a few books and summoning some people who are infinitely more competent than I am doesn't make me a hero. The strategy, the fighting, the death…I was never meant to be a part of any of this."

"…This doubt has been building ever since we arrived, hasn't it?" He gave no verbal response, but the way his fist tightened around his hair was answer enough. "In any case, it's absolute rubbish." Kiran did spare a doubtful glance that time, which enabled him to see the concern on Virion's face. "You've dedicated so much time to raising our spirits that you've neglected to see to your own." The archer sadly shook his head. "I said it before, Kiran: I've seen a lot in my time. Two wars, to be exact. And with that experience, I've learned not to trust my life with just anybody. Were you the lucky buffoon you seem to think you are, I would not have followed your lead into danger several times now."

"You're just too nice to tell me otherwise." Kiran ruefully refuted. "Camus has the right idea; I'm the last person who should be barking orders."

Virion feigned consideration of his words before giving a response. "Perhaps I am a tad soft-hearted. It grieves me to leave a friend to face danger alone, after all. But then," he shot Kiran a hard look, "is Princess Ayra soft-hearted? Is Lady Tanith? They have proven no less eager to obey your command than I. Would you insult them by insinuating they've only done so to spare your feelings?"

"I…that's…" he sputtered, unable to think of any counterargument.

"Kiran." Virion called his name and hunched over to meet his eyes. "Do you not think it possible that you are better than you think you are? That perhaps the heroes stay here because they believe in you? Nobody is perfect – a mistake in a training match is hardly cause to abandon you. Even Camus has remained because he recognizes your potential to be a commander worth following. If you were truly as hopeless as you think, he'd have already demanded to be sent home."

Okay, maybe Virion did have a point. But there was more on his shoulders than just fears of incompetence. "Even if you're right…there's more to it than that." He gripped his right eyelids and peeled them open. "Haven't you seen how bloodshot my eyes are? How deep the bags under them are? I can barely sleep, Virion, and when I do it's fitful and filled with nightmares. And after today, I can guarantee it'll only get worse. Trust me on this: the human body can only take so much stress before it gives out."

Virion rested a finger on his chin in thought. "Ah, difficulties with sleeping do often plague those laden with responsibilities. Tell me, when was the last time you relaxed and enjoyed yourself? When did you last attempt to relieve the stress that afflicts you?"

I'm pretty sure it was… He stopped and realized he couldn't actually remember. It had been before he was summoned, hadn't it? He had played some video game or listened to some album, but comforts like that didn't exist in Askr. With all of his usual pastimes out of reach, he'd just subsumed himself in work, hadn't he? Even in that first week when he wasn't officially the tactician, he'd killed time by teaching Nino or inquiring about the different worlds and how they worked. He tried to visit the heroes once a day, but that was more for their sake than his. Like Virion said, he'd tried to raise everyone else's morale before his own.

"No answer, huh?" Virion noted. "That would certainly explain some of it. I know you shoulder a heavy duty, but you cannot expect to go on forever without a break."

"What am I supposed to do?" Kiran urged. "Everything I enjoyed is back home. Hell, I thought people in this kind of society were too busy trying not to starve or die of disease to have fun."

"I've no idea where you got that kind of idea. Why, we could peruse the shops in Holms Village, throw a tea party with some of the other heroes, or perhaps test wits in a friendly game of strategy. You won't know until you try, will you?"

"A tea party?" Kiran disbelievingly repeated. "Then again…I guess shooting the shit with friends is a good way to wind down no matter where you are." The thought of just chatting with no ulterior motive brought a ghost of a smile to his face.

"Ah, there we go!" Virion sang. "I knew the Kiran I've befriended was still in there. Simply thinking of a good time in the future does wonders for one's mood, does it not?"

"Yeah, I…I guess it does." He admitted, the smile still on his lips. "Thanks for the pep talk, Virion. I know it's not much fun to pull someone out of a depressed slump."

"Oh, perish the thought. No matter how egregious, there is no length to which I wouldn't go in order to bring a close friend back from the depths of despair. In fact, I'll even share a fool-proof way to generate amusement, though I'm afraid it will only work once." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Go up to Odin and address him as Owain. Ask him if his sword hand aches. I promise you, his reaction will provide at least one laugh."

"Uh, alright?" Kiran wasn't even sure how Virion could know how to push Odin's buttons since they were from different worlds.

Virion gently laughed himself in the face of Kiran's confusion. "Just keep it in mind. Now, will you be alright for the rest of the evening?"

Kiran let out a mirthless chuckle. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I was over everything. There's Norman, Alfonse is coming back tomorrow, I have no idea who I'll end up summoning…but I think I'm as good as I'm going to get. I just…could you tell anyone who's still worried that I'll be fine?"

"Of course, my friend." Virion vowed. "Though, you're practically asking me to go seek out over half the Order at this ungodly hour!" They both laughed at that, and Kiran stood up to offer his hand. Virion clasped it and with a firm shake finished out their discussion. Without another word, the archer departed and Kiran sank back into his seat, feeling at least slightly more content than he had before.

To his surprise, however, he could hear a commotion break out in the stairwell mere seconds after Virion went through the doorway.

"Out of my way, you pompous fool. This is important." That sounded like…Ayra?

"Milady, please, your timing is less than ideal. Whatever you need to discuss with Kiran, it can wait until morning. Let the poor man have his rest for one night." That was definitely Virion.

"He doesn't need you to be his nursemaid. He can handle one last piece of information for the day. Now step aside before I make you!" Okay, that was definitely Ayra. Didn't he have a guard posted to break up this kind of stuff?

"Unless somebody has dropped dead, I believe you can put off your meeting for several hours. Again, I must ask that you please return the way you came."

Jesus Christ, if it's not one thing, it's another. For the second time, he got up and went to the door. He cracked it open and peered in to see Virion and Ayra squaring off, with his guard uncomfortably watching it all. "Virion, just let her through." He sighed. "Ayra wouldn't be storming up here if it wasn't important."

Virion looked really reluctant to let the swordswoman add more to Kiran's plate after he'd already tried so hard to get his mind off things. "Kiran, please, I must insist –"

"It's fine, dude, really." He waved him off, already tired before even hearing what Ayra had to say. Hesitantly, the archer stepped to the side and allowed Ayra passage, who shot him a disapproving glare as she passed.

"I knew everyone was worrying over nothing." She declared to Kiran. "Whatever you're dealing with, you're strong enough to not let it bring you to ruin."

"Thanks." He deadpanned, knowing that she'd be singing a different tune had she been there not even a half hour earlier. "Go on, Virion, do whatever you were going to do. I'll be fine, I promise."

Virion couldn't help but sigh. "I dearly hope you're not mistaken, Kiran." At last, he made his way down the steps. In his absence, Ayra followed Kiran into his office, neither of them sparing a glance for the curious guard.

Now that they were alone, Kiran took in Ayra's appearance. Instead of her usual tunic and armor, she was wearing a violet nightgown similar to the one he'd seen Tana wear. In addition, her hair was visibly damp, indicating she'd come to him straight after her bath.

"Alright, Ayra," he called out as he sat back into his seat. "what's all the fuss about?"

She opted to stand in front of his desk with her arms crossed rather than sit down. "I think I know who that Jane girl is."

Instantly, his exasperation and fatigue gave way to rapt attention. "Wait, seriously?! How?!"

She held up the back of her right fist, which was normally covered by a white glove. There, he saw some kind of odd tattoo. "See this birthmark? It's proof that I carry the blood of the Crusader Od in my veins. Only members of the royal family of Isaach that's descended from him have this mark somewhere on their bodies."

"Um, okay?" He said, confused by where she was going. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"I saw Jane in the baths earlier. Kiran, she had the birthmark on her back."

"What?!" He exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. "Wait, so, she's related to you?!" The initial thought left him stunned, but the more he considered it, he realized it wasn't that absurd. "Actually…she does kind of look like you. She's got the same hair…" …and the same eyes. He realized that that Ayra's eyes were the exact same shade of dull silver Jane's had been for the few minutes she shook off the influence of her sword's curse. "Hold on, you said you thought you knew who she was. You must have a specific identity in mind beyond 'Isaach royalty'."

"I do." She nodded. "I actually can't prove this for certain but…" she gave an uncharacteristically apprehensive fidget before dropping her theory. "I think she may be my daughter, Larcei."

She's had kids?! Kiran didn't know what was more shocking – the revelation that Ayra of all people was a mother or that her daughter might've been under their noses the whole time. "Whoa, slow down for a second! You had a daughter?"

"Yes." She nonchalantly confirmed. "And a son, Scáthach. Why?" She angrily narrowed her eyes at the way he incredulously sought confirmation. "Is that so hard to believe?"

He defensively put up his hands and tried to placate her. "Don't take it the wrong way! It's not that you're unattractive or anything, it's just…well…" he nervously shifted his eyes off her, "you can't fight battles when you've got a bun in the oven, you know? You don't feel like the type to let herself get tied down, is all I'm saying."

Once it was clear he meant no insult, she dropped her indignation and gave a tired sigh. "They were twins, and unplanned. I was a part of Lord Sigurd's army and we stopped for some time in the northern country of Silesse. Lex and I had grown close to each other, and with all of the unexpected down time, one thing led to another, and, well…" She shook her head. "The circumstances of their birth don't matter. I last saw them several months later, when Oifey and my nephew Shannan were taking them to safety in Isaach. From there…you already know what came next."

Damn, that's some heavy stuff. He missed his parents enough as was – he couldn't imagine leaving infant children behind. "Okay, so, Larcei has the birthmark on her back too?"

"Well, no." She admitted. "Larcei has it on the bottom of her left foot. To be more specific, my Larcei has it on her left foot. In another world, she could have a different father, and the birthmark could be in a different place."

"And we already know from Virion and Libra that different couples form in different worlds." He finished for her. "Yeah, I can see where you're coming from. Did you, you know, try calling out to her?"

"Yes, but she didn't respond to it. All I got was a confused stare from Tana. Given the state she's in, I wouldn't expect her to recognize me." She began frustratedly drumming her fingers against her arm. "Even if she isn't Larcei…she's still family. She still has Od's noble blood flowing through her veins. The thought of one of Isaach's proud princesses being reduced to that…that animalistic bloodlust is infuriating!" She caught his eyes with an intent gaze. "I doubt you haven't realized that many think we'd be better off without her. I thought the same just this morning. But knowing what I do now, I can guarantee you that something else is influencing her. This isn't what she's really like! It can't be!"

"Calm down, Ayra." He held out his hands and glanced around. "Come on, get away from the door." He whispered. "I know what's going on, but I can't risk anyone overhearing."

She was befuddled by the strange request, but followed him to the door leading to his room. "You're right – that's not what she's really like. She attacked me once, but before she could do any harm, she suddenly switched personalities and started screaming and crying for a minute or two. I've talked it over with Libra and Odin and we all agree that the sword she uses is cursed. That's what's making her into the monster you usually see."

"A cursed sword…" Ayra uttered before her features contorted into pure rage. "Of all the wretched, underhanded tricks! Cursing Od's chosen weapon to turn one of his descendants into a twisted mockery of themselves!"

"Keep your voice down!" He hissed. "I've got Libra and Odin working on a way to reverse it, but you have to keep quiet about it! If Jane catches wind, we'll have to kill her because she'll go on a rampage to keep us from fixing her."

"…I understand." She reined in her fury. "I'll keep my peace and ensure she suspects nothing."

"Thanks. There hasn't been much progress so far, but…here's to hoping."

She nodded and, now that the matter she'd raised was fully addressed, she began making for the exit. As she did, Kiran considered a question that had formed in to back of his kind when Virion had been cheering him up. He'd refrained from asking it then, too afraid that the archer would lie to avoid upsetting him. But Ayra would never do such a thing – as Virion put it, she'd never try to spare her feelings.

"Ayra, wait." She paused with her hand on the knob and glanced back with an expectant look. "I…I know you'd never lie to me just to make me feel better. That's not like you. So…I have to ask you something." She tilted her head to indicate that he continue. "Do you…" he nervously swallowed, "do you think I'm going to get you killed a second time?"

She didn't immediately answer; in fact, she turned away from him entirely. The silence seemed to stretch on for hours as they stood on opposite ends of the room, neither making a move. "I believe it's possible that I will die here, yes." She finally answered with all her usual bluntness.

He felt his heart sink into stomach – for all of Virion's assurances, he knew that it was impossible that everyone had that much faith in him. "But," she surprisingly continued, this time looking him dead in the eye. "That will be my decision."

"Your decision…?" He dumbly repeated. "If you die, it'll be because you followed my orders! Come on, Ayra, you're too good to die because of a fluke on your part!"

"And I choose to follow your orders. So does everybody else. I already told you at lunch: everyone faces the risk of death. If I die, it will be because I choose to fight at your side and face the same threats as you. Just as I chose to fight alongside Lord Sigurd until the bitter end."

Her gaze softened ever so slightly. "It doesn't matter how I die, in this life or any other. What matters is how I live my life. Being here, with you…I can't complain. I'm satisfied with the way things are. You gave me a new lease on life, and I've chosen to use it fighting for your cause. You can't blame yourself if people decide they want to risk their lives for you."

She turned away from him and her voice took on a weary, wizened edge he'd never heard from her before. "You carry a heavy enough burden as is, Kiran. Don't carry the weight of the dead while they still draw breath." Wordlessly, she opened the door and left him alone again.

Kiran didn't know how much comfort her lecture gave him. It was one thing to say that he shouldn't feel responsible for other people's choices when she wasn't the one asking for help. But then, she made for at least one other person he knew wouldn't blame him if everything went south. That wasn't an invitation to throw her life away…but it was an assurance that she could handle her fair share of trouble. With thoughts of responsibility, for the lives of the Order's heroes, the citizens of Askr and the enemy soldiers of Embla, Kiran mulled over what the future might have in store.


For here the lover and killer are mingled

Who had one body and one heart

And Death who had the soldier singled

Has done the lover mortal hurt


Jesus fucking Christ, it's finally done. This was roughly 57,000 words (over 100 pages in Word), and oh boy did it feel like a never-ending monster as I wrote it. This chapter went through a shit ton of revisions – scenes were added, removed and edited all over the place. I think I cycled through five different characters alone for the 'cheer up Kiran' scene before I settled on Virion. I imagine (and pray) this is the last time a chapter will more than double the fic's length. But hey, we're past 100,000 words, baby!

I should really stop doing author notes at 4 AM, because I can never remember everything I wanted to say. First of all, a big shout out to RoBlueKiran321, who not only recommended this fic to his readers, but actually put up a recommendation on TVTropes! I'd be remiss to not return such generous shilling in kind, so go check out his Heroes fic if you've got time to kill. Now I just need to go far enough to get a page on TVTropes and I'll have finally peaked in life! I've got another project in the works: a series of themed one-shots. Hopefully, I can get the first chapter of that out soon, since it won't be anywhere near as long as this.

Just in case someone out there can't tell: Jane Doe is Fallen Mareeta. In writing this fic, I'll only allow one version of every character to be summoned, meaning this Mareeta is the only Mareeta we'll ever see. If our boys can fix her up, she's going to have an awful lot of bridges to rebuild with the Order. And yes, I know she and Larcei aren't the same character, that's just Ayra speculating. Oh, and the voice in her head isn't actually Eyvel communicating telepathically, it's just a manifestation of her conscience like Kiran thought.

I've been taking a lot of time to consider the greater story of the fic – rest assured, the questions raised by Odin and Libra do have answers, but they won't come for a long ass time. I already have the basic plot skeleton mapped out (I even have a lot of chapter names decided, including the last one), and I intend to stick with it regardless of what happens in canon. I plan to only go through Book 3. Honestly, at the rate these updates are taking, that's probably for the best.

The title this time around is a poem by Keith Douglas about how soldiers in war aren't just mindless killing machines – they're also people with loved ones who will miss them when they're gone. That theme carries throughout the chapter, from Amelia's preconceptions about Tana, to the patrol, and even Mareeta herself, who's an innocent victim in the grand scheme of things. Fittingly, and tragically, Douglas was killed in Normandy in 1944.

Uh, what else…the reagents Anna lists off are a shout out/Easter egg to something else. There's no deeper relation between this and that, but you get a virtual high five if you can identify it. Hope the lore additions this time weren't too boring or confusing. I definitely hope it's all consistent and makes sense. If Fire Emblem ever explained its magic in depth somewhere else, I missed it. Also hope everyone's in character. It's only going to get harder to keep straight as more people show up. Speaking of: next chapter will have the first Three Houses character! And that's not because the CYL results just got posted – I've known who I was adding next for months.

Finally, 2020 has been a godawful mess for everyone for reasons that need no elaboration. Whatever has been grieving you, I hope you're able to persevere and make it through to the end with the rest of us. Believe it or not, I actually have an in-person class in a couple weeks. Hope I don't catch COVID!

Please, leave comments/reviews. Good or bad, feedback is how I learn. Thank you all for reading, and I hope you look forward to more.