Author's Notes: It's been too long. A lot has happened, yeah? 2022 has been a pretty bad year. And now 2023 is nearly halfway finished. Where does the time go…

Anyway, here's a long chapter to make up for it. Please enjoy.

"You guys sure took your time…" She began, arms folded, none too pleased at having to wade through the packed arena stands alone and sit there by her lonesome for a good while. However, once she got a good look at who exactly joined her, she realized she would have to amend what was going to be a passive-aggressive tirade.

"Where's Claude?"

Delthea asked her lone silent companion as he calmly sat down next to her, the arena threatening to drown out her words. Turning to her, he replied:

"'His time is better spent elsewhere,' he said."

An unsure sound escaped her lips, though Byleth probably wouldn't have heard through the ruckus. Part of her wanted to grumble at Claude's flakiness, but the other was thankful he wasn't here. Being around him… put her on edge. She had enough on her plate as it was and didn't need someone's looming presence trying to pick away at her mind—

"Did you hear? THE Claude Riegan is enrolling this year!"

"No way, really?! I want a piece of that handsome—"

Or her still yet fragile sensibilities.

Delthea spat out a near-defeated sigh. It took a large amount of self-control to keep up her resistance against Claude and his silver-tongue. He posed as a paradox, a fiendish nightmare and a sweet dream rolled up in one. She would be lying to herself if she said Claude's word and presence didn't have an effect on her.

She took a steady breath.

It seemed this imposed distance helped her nerves. The sinking feeling of anxiety she felt around the curly-haired handsome devil was no longer there now that he wasn't around. Yes, putting distance would be a good strategy moving forward, much like how she wanted to place distance between her and the arena.

After what had happened earlier in the gymnasium, Delthea didn't want to be somewhere like this.

Her thoughts kept returning to the sight of all the collapsed students. The train was one thing, but now people had been directly hurt by her actions, her powers. It was never like this back home. Sure, she singed a couple stray patches of grass and nearly blinded Luthier, but Lu could handle a beating or five and some wounded pride.

Even though dumb Lu was made of sturdy stuff, Delthea wasn't so sure even he would be able to withstand what she was capable of now. Heck, if she brought her explosive powers back home, Delthea wasn't sure there'd be much of a home left to return to.

But perhaps the most surreal thing about all of this was how nonchalant everyone was.

If a train back home exploded out of nowhere or if an entire gymnasium's worth of students fainted on the spot, it would be the talk of the town. People would be up in arms to get down to brass tacks and figure out the culprit. The train explosion was yesterday and Delthea hardly heard anyone talking about it anymore.

Granted, Heroes Academy had been working behind the scenes to cover up the truth of the two incidents. Delthea still found it uncomfortable at how easily everything was brushed under the rug, and how easily everyone moved on from one explosion to the next.

The explosion of dust rocking the center of the arena had people glued to their seats, not running away.

Delthea couldn't help but sigh, torn.

The very thing she was stewing over was perhaps the one thing that was keeping her safe, even if she didn't want to admit it. Had this happened anywhere else, she wouldn't have been so lucky.

Lucky…

A self-admonishing grin spread across her face. How could anyone in her shoes be considered lucky?

She owed a massive debt in property damages to a school that was more shady than it was willing to admit. She caused several other students to be roped into similarly unfortunate circumstances because of her mistakes. To top it all off, she had to either fulfill her end of the contract or pay the consequences.

Delthea shifted in her seat uncomfortably, flinching when she felt the folded sheet of paper in her jacket pocket. She hadn't taken it out since yesterday.

"Are you okay, Delthea?"

Noticing her grimace, Byleth had begun looking her way, taking his eyes off the commotion of the arena, gazing into her own. Delthea immediately felt her ears flare up.

"Ye-yeah!" she blurted, a bit too loud for her own good. "I'm fine! Honest!"

He spoke and looked at her with the same worried tone he had back at the gymnasium, his gaze holding her like comforting hands. Those words, as basic as they were, soothed her like warm water.

"We don't have to be here if you don't want to," Byleth suggested. He gestured towards the gated entrance. "We can wait outside and meet up with the rest when everything wraps up."

Byleth was too kind and understanding. Maybe it was because he had been with her every step since the ship. Maybe it was because he saw firsthand what Delthea was capable of. Maybe he knew something she didn't.

Whatever the reason, it didn't matter. Delthea was grateful she at least had someone by her side.

Lucky, huh?

Perhaps that sentiment earlier was correct.

It could always be a whole lot worse.

The Coliseum, as she overheard the locals call it, was a marvel of architecture. Even someone as unversed in the arts as Delthea could appreciate the grandness of it all. Matching the scale and grandiosity that permeated throughout the rest of the rest of the campus, the Coliseum looked pulled straight from the pages of that history textbook sitting in the corner of her room back home, gathering dust, silverfish, and God knows what else.

Shaped with the same circular curvature of arenas of yore and lined with steep pillars that stretched far into the arms of the clouds, the Coliseum bore no ceiling, letting the sun shine brilliantly upon the rows upon rows of seats, and the growing, eager audience, down below.

Many students, whether they passed or failed, turned up at the Coliseum in droves. Though each wore a differing expression, they flooded every comfortable bit of space for the hottest attraction during the Trials of Elimination:

The Demonstration Exam.

Unlike Aptitude and Application, the Demonstration Exam was put on display over a massive audience. All other tests had this stuffy, academic atmosphere oozing throughout every aspect of them.

Not here though.

It held less the air of an official exam and more of a sporting meet, as few of those she bothered attending anyway. But even, there was something… different.

After all, this wasn't some community-run, casual game of catchball played at the corner park by some rowdy kids. No, this was something on a completely different level, a different world, even. Only the best of the best would be permitted to compete here as Delthea learned. Not just any schmuck could roll up to the Demonstration Exam and partake. All Channelers here had to be of a certain caliber. Because—

"Oomph!"

The guttural cry ripped through the stadium, accompanied by the sharp crack of wood against flesh. The sound drowned out any other. People held their breath. Amidst the sea of dust swirling in the center of the arena would be two things.

The victorious. And the defeated.

—it was kill or be killed out there.

Uniformed workers in familiar white quickly stormed the field with medical gear and a stretcher, a song and dance they performed at the end of every bout so far. Judging by the relative calm of the crowd and lack of urgency in the medical workers, this was one of the more milder conclusions to a duel, even if the loser in this fight lay sprawled on the dirt, unmoving, weapon still in hand.

It didn't take long for medical teams to clean up the mess and prepare for the next set of duelists. Delthea spared whatever condolences she could in that time, even if she didn't exactly recall the name of the poor boy the white-uniformed workers were hauling out. Whoops.

You couldn't blame her for not having the time to study the defeated, considering who that unfortunate boy was up against.

"And the winner is…" the announcer's voice boomed across the arena, "Dimitri… Alexandre Blaiddyid!"

Normally, at the end of duels, it was customary for the audience to clap or cheer. At least, that was what Delthea had been expecting.

Murmurs.

Those were what swept through the crowd. It wasn't too unusual for people to talk amongst themselves at a duel's conclusion. However, there was something different about the air of this one. There wasn't the usual excitable chatter or disappointed groans Delthea came to expect.

No, it was all subdued, damp whispers; it was the kind of words that you could never piece together despite how much those words tickled at the base of your eardrums. A sound everyone heard but never fully understood—except the emotion involved.

All aimed at the duel's winner.

"... Blaiddyid…?"

"... So it's true…"

They were eerily reminiscent of the whispers Delthea heard back at the train station while she tagged behind the blonde boy. It was different from the adoration-laden sighs or stunned gasps someone like Claude and Hilda would receive. It felt… colder, jagged with the barbs of condescension. If it stung this much as a mere bystander, Delthea what it'd feel like to the boy in question.

The boy whose name the whisperous crowd lashed with the whip of hushed, secretive voices.

The boy who won his duel without breaking a sweat nor face.

And the boy who Delthea now found taking a standing before her, eyes and ears distant from the words that clawed his way.

"I'm sorry, would you mind if I sat here?"

Now that he stood among them, the crowd dialed back on their comments. Dimitri's little performance in the ring was a fantastic persuader. How easy it would be for him to shut up anyone who dared to say anything to his face.

If he had any intention of doing so, he didn't show it.

Instead, it seemed Dimitri's world had shrunk down, leaving the arena space to merely the small group of companions he had been lotted together with.

While everyone's words may have shushed, their eyes told a different story. They had followed him from the center to the stands, harsh glares that now extended their tendrils to Delthea. She knew she had to be as inconspicuous as possible, especially with all the incidents she was racking up under her name. She knew that.

But she knew how awful it would be to be all alone in that mess, something she had the fortune to avoid.

"Is that even a question? Get over here, you dummy."

The smile Dimitri gave her was complicated. It carried so many emotions to unpack.

How could Delthea say no?

"You seem to be in higher spirits than last night."

Byleth surprisingly broke the silence as Dimitri settled, both into his seat and from the hushed voices of the crowd. Smiling, with self-derision overtaking his face, Dimitri neither nodded or shook his head. He reclined back, folding his arms into himself as he loosened his collar.

While other duelists donned some form of protective wear for the Demonstration Exam, Dimitri entered with nothing more than the uniform he arrived at Heroes with, sans the blazer Hilda and Delthea sat on yesterday.

One could argue he was ill-equipped, but the results said otherwise.

His opponent had been armored, well-armed, and dressed for the occasion, and look what good all that preparation did him: a heavier body to load onto a stretcher.

A clean blow from the end of Dimitri's wooden spear sent the poor boy flying straight into the dirt like a sack of potatoes. And judging by the sound he made when he hit the floor, he'd probably have the mental capacity of one for a while too, poor soul.

"I apologize for the sorry display the two of you had to witness," Dimitri said, turning to them. "Both today and yesterday."

If what happened just now was a sorry display, Delthea was curious—and afraid—of what actually trying would look like.

But she was more concerned about Dimitri's mental well-being more than anything else. When the boy met with that white-haired girl, El, and was brushed off coldly, he closed himself off—and that was putting it lightly. Even Hilda, the only person who had any chance of doing so, couldn't find a way in.

However, unlike the weary, distant dimness of last night, Dimitri's eyes had more vigor and steadfastness now. It made the despondent Dimitri of yesterday seem like a fleeting illusion.

"You don't have to apologize. You have your reasons."

"Thank you," he nodded towards Delthea, "I am… better now."

Whether the blonde boy truly was or truly trying to convince himself he was, Delthea didn't know. Not many people would be able to recover at such a rate, let alone act okay.

She wracked her brains over this for a while, ignoring the Demonstration exams taking place below, gauging Dimitri's expression and demeanor. A knitted brow here, a clenched hand there. Maybe with enough thorough observation, she'd better understand whatever was going on beneath Dimitri's okay-ish exterior.

It was easier said than done.

He said nothing of note that would indicate anything was wrong, instead keeping his eyes solely focused on the bouts happening in the ring. His eyes, focused on the movements and actions of the duelists, betrayed nothing. Delthea didn't know why she was so intent on finding something wrong with the boy. Shouldn't she have been glad that he was all better now?

Had the last two days she spent in this foreign world really changed her that much? Or perhaps, was it this world, where dueling and conjuring flames were the norm, that was strange?

If Claude were here, he'd have some insight and—... No, perhaps it was best that he wasn't.

And as if to sprinkle salt on her invisible wounds, Dimitri seemed to have no problem reading Delthea's mind. The moment he caught Delthea making a strange expression, he wheeled around to take in his group's surroundings. In mere seconds, he had pieced together what was wrong with what he saw, which he had been too occupied before to notice.

"Where's Riegan?"

Delthea explained the day's earlier events, minus the whole light flash bomb incident she caused at the gymnasium. How Byleth, Claude, and she all passed the Aptitude Exam. How they briefly split up before arriving at the Coliseum. How only Byleth showed up. Beyond that, when asked about Claude's whereabouts, all she could do was shrug.

Dimitri scowled and grumbled under his breath, probably something none too pleasant about their absent comrade, though not before congratulating Delthea and Byleth on their exam passing.

Only then was Delthea reminded about how she had forgotten to congratulate Dimitri for his victory in the duel. After some sheepish words and embarrassed smiles back and forth, the courtesy was returned.

Though Dimitri was genuinely happy to receive such sentiments, it was here when Delthea finally noticed something off.

Byleth had said something commending Dimitri's martial abilities, asking where he had learned such delicate footwork, which Delthea agreed was something akin to the grace of dance.

For a split second, his face faltered, like a mask cloven away. Delthea was sure Byleth noticed it too. But, the expression was… too complicated, too dense to decipher. It wasn't long before Dimitri composed himself, leaving no trace of said emotion behind.

"... From an old friend," was all he said.

Neither of the two pressed the issue.

The sun had moved past noon before any of them spoke again.

"Where's Goneril?" Byleth asked, rekindling a question that hovered in Delthea's mind, "When we split up last night, you two went off together."

Delthea replayed the scenes of last night in her head again. Hilda practically had to egg Dimitri out of the auditorium once the orientation wrapped up, otherwise he would have "stayed there all night" Hilda said.

The last Delthea saw of their pink-haired companion was her dragging the dull-eyed Dimitri to their designated dorms. It made for quite the scene, seeing the diminutive Hilda literally hauling someone who towered over her as if he weighed of paper.

Talking about Hilda seemed to brighten Dimitri's spirits a bit, a subtle, reserved grin surfacing on his face. "She made sure that I made it to my room before returning to her own." His gaze softened too as he put his hands together. "She's been that way since we were little."

"I've been meaning to ask," Delthea pondered, recollecting her thoughts as she sat up in her seat, inching closer, "just what exactly is your relationship with Hilda?" Realizing how nosy that sounded, she amended her question. "I mean, how do you two know each other?"

Not taking offense to how potentially invasive her question was, Dimitri happily obliged.

"Our families were friends long before we were even born," he reminisced, probably thinking back fondly of those earlier times. "We merely continued that tradition."

Well that explains a lot, Delthea mused, once again paying no attention to the heated examinations taking place down below.

"It seemed as though you two haven't seen each other in a while." Byleth pointed out, referring to their unplanned reunion in the train station yesterday. Delthea remembered the scene vividly, how almost slack-jawed and wide-eyed Hilda had become seeing Dimitri. Delthea also embarrassingly remembered how she initially, and incorrectly, assumed Hilda's reaction was due to how ridiculously attractive Dimitri was… though it probably wasn't all that incorrect.

"You're correct," Dimitri answered, confirming Byleth's observation. "It's… been almost ten years since we saw each other last."

"Dang, a whopping ten years," Delthea whistled, taken aback. That was more than half her life. Of her sixteen years on this earth, a single year itself felt like an immeasurably long time—though that may have been influenced by her life out in the sticks. Now multiply that by ten. How do you deal with that?

Dimitri somehow had, even with the passage of ten whole years. Delthea could hardly remember what she was doing ten years ago. Yet, these two seemed to have picked up right where they left off. That was some solid friendship right there.

Speaking of friendship, Delthea wondered to herself if the "old friend" Dimitri was referring to earlier was Hilda. She'd certainly fit the bill. The two had history that stretched way back.

But Delthea found it strange that he would refer to Hilda cryptically as an "old friend" rather than by name. No, he had to be talking about someone else. That complicated expression didn't surface at all when speaking of their pink-haired friend. It was all smiles when it came to Hilda.

Much like the one Dimitri was wearing now.

Dimitri seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to his partner. He bolted upright in his seat, startling Delthea and nearby attendees with his sudden movement. Before Delthea had a chance to ask, the crowd answered for her.

"Did you hear who's next?"

"Oh my gosh, I can't wait!"

"Our goddess is finally gracing us!"

Excluding that last weird comment, the people in the arena's seats were getting properly hyped up for the next combatants to take the stage. Judging by the overwhelmingly male-dominant chants and Dimitri's own acute attentiveness, which was a step above the interest shown in previous duels, it was clear as day who would be up next.

There on the freshly swept dueling ring stood one particular individual. You'd recognize that hair from a mile away.

A nonplussed air about her, she flipped one of her pigtails with a practiced hand, greeting the crowd with a playful wink and grin, her perfect teeth twinkling alongside her wrist bangles in the post noon sun.

The boys just about went wild.

"She certainly knows how to manage a crowd," Byleth commented. Hilda's commanding charm had gotten him to talk. Delthea saw Dimitri rapidly nodding in response. Though Delthea would've rolled her eyes, they were too busy ogling Hilda. She had to admit that the Goneril heiress had a draw to her that was hard to ignore, even as a girl. It was something to be admired, envied, and feared all at once. A weapon to surpass Channeling and Gears.

Hilda's presence alone kept the arena (or the boys at least) placated for a good while. However, it didn't take people long to realize something was very wrong.

"Where is her opponent?" Byleth wondered, scanning the arena. Hilda fashionably made her appearance within the ring once her name was read off the ballot, but the same could not be said of her foe. It was a question rapidly spreading to everyone's mind as murmurs about it began engulfing the stands. Didn't Hilda's opponent know what was at stake here? How could they simply just not show up to the biggest test, and attraction, at the academy?

Nervous tension was building everywhere. Delthea anxiously bit her lip seeing restlessness permeate throughout the arena. Dimitri asked people around him for the identity and status of Hilda's mystery opponent. Even Byleth had some trouble maintaining his utter cool, his eyes darting sharply around in search of answers only he could glean.

Meanwhile, the girl in the middle of it all showed not a smidgen of concern, casually leaning against the shaft of her wooden ax, examining her probably flawless nails and the polish glinted in the sunlight. Either she too was a world-class actor like Claude or she was simply that confident in herself. Delthea honestly didn't know.

After the world's longest minute had passed, judges had to eventually come to forward with a decision. What other choice did they have? This was arguably the oldest, and the most prestigious, test on offer at Heroes Academy, built off the backbone of one of Channeling's longest standing traditions. One could not simply put forth their name and choose to not take the stand, especially in front of the eyes and ears of the countless. Letting this farce go on any further would tarnish the very prestige the academy stood for.

So, for the first time in the academy's long and storied history, a duel was won without either duelist throwing a single blow or channeling a single cast.

The duel's winner was all smiles through and through.

"... What in the world was that…?"

"Did you expect something like that?... I wasn't…"

These were only some of the comments onlookers had as they slowly began filing out of the Coliseum stands. It would be an understatement to say that many were miffed at the conclusion of Hilda's duel, the finale to the Demonstration exam for the first half of the day. It was the sourest note to end on for the enthusiasts, both of Channeling and the Goneril heiress.

The disappointment was palpable, even Delthea felt some of it bubbling inside her, and she didn't care much for any of this business anyway. She felt especially sorry for Dimitri who had looked so excited to see Hilda in action. He was among the many enthusiasts lining the stadium when she took to the center. Byleth made an attempt to appear aloof, but Delthea detected a bit of annoyance seeping onto his face. He must've been interested in Hilda's skills.

Yep, that was totally it.

If disappointment was everywhere, none of it could be found on the face of the girl involved in it all as she joined up with the group, a hop in her step. Amidst the sea of disappointment, she was the lone ship hoisting the sails of joy weathering the storm, oblivious to turbulent, moody waters surrounding her, yet skillfully maneuvering past every rocky crag all the same.

Hilda was a bit worried for Dimitri when they regrouped, seeing the look on his face and all. But once she realized it didn't have anything to do with last night's incident, the concern disappeared from her face like it was never there, like seafoam dissipating over the waves.

It didn't take a genius to see that something was up. Delthea felt it in her gut, and not just because she used a boat analogy. She was sure the others were thinking the same. All they had to do was ask the girl in question. However, no words or questions could peek past Hilda's smiling visage, or whatever she was harboring beneath. Byleth had tried rather bluntly to find out if Hilda knew anything about her opponent not showing up. All he got for his efforts was a disarmingly sweet smile.

"Why would I know anything about that, silly?" she responded nonchalantly. "It's hard enough accounting for myself by myself."

The answer didn't seem to satisfy him but he offered no retort. What could he really say? He had only known the girl proper for not even two whole days. That wasn't enough time to get to know anyone, least of all someone as prestigious as THE Hilda Valentine Goneril. You'd need a lifetime and a half to fully understand someone with a comprehensive background like that girl, Delthea thought to herself.

As Delthea was deliberating with that notion, she noticed Hilda's face fall slightly. The girl was glaring at the glass screen of a thin, rectangular device Delthea saw countless other students have on their person and fiddle around with. Apparently it was some sort of phone that was smart, whatever that meant. Hilda's thumbs moved at a rapid-fire pace against the screen, clearly not pleased about something.

Delthea sidled up next to her agitated companion. "Something wrong?"

Hilda huffed, deactivating the device's screen and letting it rest in her hand. "Baltie—I mean, Balthus."

She trailed off, biting her lower lip, fingers squeezing around her device.

"He hasn't got back to me since yesterday."

Delthea noticed the girl's gait slow slightly. She matched her pace to Hilda's own.

"He's normally not like this?" Byleth chimed in after overhearing the two. More people began passing by the group than the other way around. Even Dimitri, the tallest of them with the longest stride, had all but stopped.

"Kinda, yeah," Hilda explained, pressing her arm to her side while pocketing the rectangular glass thing. "He doesn't hound me or anything like Holst, but he lets me know he's alive—and outta trouble—from time to time." She pursed her lips. "But he's not gone for this long."

Delthea tried to imagine what sort of trouble someone built like Balthus could wind up in. Maybe finding a shirt that fit him properly. Whatever Hilda was worrying about, Delthea really couldn't see it… Unless Balthus was the type of person to actively throw himself into trouble at a moment's notice. Then that was a different story.

"Have you reached out to your brother?" Dimitri asked, trying to make sense of the situation. Seemed like a logical first step. Hilda's older brother, Holst, was good friends with Balthus. If anyone besides Hilda would have insight, it'd be him.

Hilda nodded but her expression wasn't any brighter than before. "All my calls go to his secretary," she sighed, rapping her knuckles against the side of her head. "I was dumb and forgot he was going to be extremely busy this coming quarter."

"Too busy for his own sister?" Dimitri replied, dumbfounded. Delthea wondered if it was due to what Hilda had said or how she had said it, like it was something natural. "That's not the Holst I remember."

"Well—"

"You're familiar with her brother?" Byleth asked, curious. Delthea was too. Dimitri only spoke of his relationship with Hilda, not the rest of her family.

Dimitri nodded excitedly. "Yes, Holst taught me a great many things when we were children." He couldn't help but smile. "It was he who taught me the finer aspects of etiquette and dueling."

Delthea saw the glint in Byleth's eyes shift at the mention of dueling. It only got more intense the more details Dimitri gave on terminology and info on Channeling things that went over Delthea's head.

"Okay, okay, enough gushing about my dumb brother," Hilda barked, clapping her hands together. "I gotta do something about my other dumb brother who's gone missing."

"Worried he's tied to some hospital bed, all bandaged up?" Delthea joked in an effort to lighten the mood.

"I can only hope."

… Not the reaction she was hoping for.

"It's still no use. All my calls go straight to voicemail."

The group had all decided to take a brief break after wandering Heroes' campus in hopes of locating Balthus. Dimitri figured it wouldn't hurt to casually mill about in search of Hilda's missing companion, and since Claude wasn't here to rebut that suggestion, the group did just that.

Delthea thought it would be a good idea too. I mean, how hard could it be to look for someone that looked like Balthus?

Well they hadn't come any closer to finding the guy and only managed to work up a sweat constantly walking around beneath the waning spring sun. Delthea became immensely happy when Byleth suggested they take a brief break to recuperate. The cold drinks Dimitri had bought from a nearby vendor helped a lot too. However, they were one short. The weather must've gotten to him too because Byleth excused himself to find a vendor with an ice cold drink in stock.

Though, he probably didn't need to. Hilda hadn't even touched hers ever since they sat down, a puddle forming around her condensation-ridden plastic cup. She was the one who walked around and talked the most, inquiring about Balthus' whereabouts. Delthea was impressed with Hilda's resilience as she quietly sipped her lemonade.

"And still no word from Holst?"

Hilda shook her head in response to Dimitri's question. She passed her phone device to him as proof. In the call logs, all the recent calls were to a certain Holst Sigiswald Goneril, each lasting less than a second. All the other calls were to Balthus, all equally as short.

"I don't know Balthus very well," Dimitri admitted, handing the phone back to its owner. "But I do remember hearing about him. A troublemaker of sorts?"

Hilda nodded. "The very same. He's gotten better ever since he came back, but…" She shrugged, setting her phone face down on the table. "I sometimes wonder who's supposed to be watching who."

"Came back?"

Hilda's eyebrows perked up. "O-oh, yeah. He's… had to leave for a while. But now he's back for good." She gave a small grin. "I'm not about to let him walk out on me again."

That sounded incredibly shady, even if Hilda was trying to downplay the circumstances surrounding the boy. Delthea had an inkling that there was more to the muscle slab than met the eye; Hilda's dancing around it pretty much confirmed it.

Dimitri seemed oddly aware of something as well, his eyes suddenly turning narrow.

"How long was he gone for?"

"Ten years and you can't even say hello?"

Dimitri's question went unanswered as all eyes at the table turned to see who had rudely barged in on their conversation.

If the blonde boy was annoyed before, he certainly wasn't showing it now.

"S-Sylvain?"

A tall redhead, armed with a drink of his own, flashed a disarming grin, giving a wink. "The one and only."

Dimitri immediately got up from his seat, knocking Hilda's untouched cup over in the process as he made his way to this Sylvain. Another of Dimitri's old friends? Delthea wondered how many more would pop up. If they looked anything like this guy, it wouldn't hurt to pray for a few more to show up, yeah?

The two boys firmly shook hands. Their close stature made them appear like brothers.

"You should be honored. I don't normally go out of my way unless it's a pretty piece of ass, but I'm making an exception for you."

… Maybe hold that thought.

Dimitri, probably glad to see another familiar face, ignored the boy's crude words. "Let me introduce you to—"

Sylvain held up his hand, motion swishing the ice cubes in his cup. "No need."

Dimitri gazed at his old friend, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Wasn't planning on staying long enough to make friends or rebuild burned bridges," he replied. Sylvain hadn't broken his smile but any of the warmness it held before was gone. Delthea and Hilda exchanged glances. Both could feel the underlying chill in his cheerful tone. "And you're not making things easier for yourself, especially after that showing during Demo."

Dimitri's hand fell back to his side. Delthea saw the boy's fingers curl up into a fist.

"Like I said," Dimitri's "friend" quipped, taking a swig of his drink. "I'm just making an exception. You can thank Felix for that—"

"Felix?"

Sylvain chuckled sheepishly, bringing his hand to the bridge of his nose. "Aha, whoops. Forget I said that."

Hilda nudged Delthea. "... is this guy just trying to get a rise out of us or what…?" she whispered.

"If he is, it's working."

She could count on a hand people who could be so flippant yet cold in the same breath. Judging by the lack of remorse in Sylvain's eyes, Delthea surmised this sort of demeanor came easily to him.

She had a particular dislike for people like this, people whose words said one thing while their faces said another.

"Asshole."

Delthea couldn't agree more.

Dimitri's displeasure however was clear as day on his face, and his words definitely reflected what he was feeling.

"So you came all this way to belittle me?"

Sylvain laughed. "Belittle you? C'mon Dimitri, don't you know me better than that?" He playfully punched his "friend's" shoulder.

The red glint in Sylvain's eyes then burned.

"I came here to warn you."

A solemn, hurt expression washed over Dimitri's face, the corners of his sharp cobalt eyes shaking ever so slightly. The tremble in his cheeks betrayed his clenched teeth.

Sylvain's shoulder punch transitioned to a not-so-comforting hand on Dimitri's shoulder. Delthea saw that the redhead wasn't gripping his shoulder all that hard, but there was weight behind his gesture.

"A lot of people still haven't forgiven you," Sylvain whispered, his words louder than thunder. That easygoing smile faded just enough to see a glimpse of the emotion it was shielding.

Was it anger? Contempt? Or was it sadness? Regret? Delthea didn't know.

But it seemed Hilda knew something.

"That a threat, pal?"

She spoke in a sickly sweet voice, sweeter than the lemonade currently caught in Delthea's throat, her honeyed tone thick with niceties that belied her intent. Her smile could induce cavities and those dainty arms of her could probably knock out that cavity-infected tooth, and then some.

"Hah!" Sylvain guffawed, finally disconnecting himself from Dimitri, his hand clapping against his wrist with condescending delight. "I'm not that nice. If I could've stabbed you in the back, there'd already be a hilt sticking out of it."

He made a motion of plunging an imaginary dagger.

Hilda was none too pleased at the reenactment.

"But maybe you've got nothing to worry about. You've already gotten yourself another armpiece. I never took you for the type. You've changed, Dimitri."

Hilda crossed her arms. "This 'armpiece' has a name. But I'm afraid you'd choke on it with the others still in there."

The boy clutched his chest in mock agony. "You wound me."

"I can do a lot more."

Sylvain guffawed as he nudged Dimitri. "She's got a mouth. You always had a thing for broads with a sharp tongue."

Red anger flared over Dimitri's blue eyes. He tightly gripped Sylvain's arm. "Her name's Hilda—"

"Goneril, right?" Sylvain smirked, nonplussed. "Oh, I knew that already. You'd think a skirt chaser like me wouldn't?"

In a practiced motion, Sylvain pulled his arm from Dimitri's iron grip, slipping through like sand between your fingers. His sleeve looked none worse for wear aside from a few creases, courtesy of Dimitri's hand. A couple measured swipes returned it to form.

Delthea remembered the pompous noble from the train station and how much he struggled against Dimitri's strength. Though cut from the same despicable cloth, this Sylvain was no pushover.

He had to sacrifice his drink in the process though; Dimitri had grabbed his cup arm. His glass clattered along the paved stone below, spilling its dark purple contents with a splash. Strangely, no ice remained.

Sylvain clicked his tongue behind his teeth before nonchalantly stooping down to pick up the dropped glass cup, leaving his back to the group. None of them moved.

"These cups they serve are made of tough stuff," he whistled to himself, holding and tilting the curved glass in his hand. A sudden red glow engulfed the whole cup as a mildly efforted look crossed the red headed boy's face. Delthea didn't have to look twice to know Sylvain was channeling fire into the poor cup.

There was a brief flash of steam. Though it didn't shatter, the glass of the cup started to slowly warp, shaping itself to the contours of Sylvian's hand. With a grunt, the boy ceased his fire, the red glow halting immediately. The glass quickly cooled, forever frozen in its newfound deformity. Sylvain then tossed it into a nearby trash can, the glass having served its purpose and no longer bearing any use. It landed inside with a thunk however, still refusing to break.

"You've awoken to your affinity." Dimitri said flatly.

A small wisp of a flame burned at Sylvain's index finger. "A lot has changed since you left." Curling his finger snuffed the fledgling flame. "We couldn't be those same weak kids forever."

Dimitri stood silently, his eyes falling just below Sylvain's.

With a ready smile that brushed over this brief altercation, he began to walk away. "Anyway, watch your back, Dimitri. You've got lots of eyes on it already." He waved.

"Sylvain." Dimitri said, stepping forward. His words were neither a shout of anger or that of a challenge. Yet, it cut through the crowd and white noise like a knife, finding its recipient.

"Thank you."

The boy stopped.

"You really haven't changed one bit."

Delthea saw the boy's back shake with laughter as he melted into the many bodies that passed by in the moving crowd.

At the same time, Byleth finally rejoined them, a glass cup of sparkling iced water in his hand. They must've all been wearing strange faces because Byleth gazed at them cautiously.

"Did I miss something?"

Hilda swiped his cup and finally took a drink, downing the whole thing in a matter of seconds without spilling a single drop or ice cube.

"Nothing worth mentioning," she said, wiping the edges of her mouth with a handkerchief that she always seemed to carry. She then glanced embarrassed at Byleth who stood dumbfounded. "Sorry… And thanks by the way."

A hint of a defeated smile on Byleth's face. "... I'll put that on my tab."

Hilda chuckled apologetically and nodded as she set the glass cup on the plastic tray Dimitri brought the drinks with. Looking up, she saw Dimitri still staring in the direction Sylvain walked away in. Delthea had lost sight of the boy. Did Dimitri see something she didn't?

"Anyway, we should get a move on, yeah?" She patted Dimitri on the back. "Nothing's going to get done just standing around."

Dimitri took a second to nod in agreement. He then glanced at the table. "... I didn't realize I knocked over your drink, Hilda."

She snorted. "Just now? Well, no use crying over spilt milk…" She examined the evaporated spill outline a bit closely. "Or lemonade."

As soon as Dimitri looked like he was about to apologize, Hilda immediately reassured him that it was all water under the bridge. Byleth also jumped in to remind that Hilda did get her drink to which the girl's ears tinged an embarrassed shade that matched her hair.

Though the drink scuffle was addressed, Dimitri still looked like he wanted to make amends.

"I'll put away the cups—"

It was Delthea's chance to swoop in.

"I got it, big guy. I can take care of this. You stay with Hilda, you hear?" She reassured the boy with a wink. Dimitri smiled at her gratefully, a genuine show of his emotion unlike that snake, Sylvain. "Be back before you know it."

Dimitri thanked her as she picked up the trays and rushed away to the dropoff counter. It gave her a brief moment to think about what just unfolded.

Someone from Dimitri's past appeared out of nowhere and dropped a bombshell of a warning before leaving just as fast as he arrived. How do you even react to any of that? Delthea wondered to herself as she weaved between chairs, deftly carrying the tray of cups.

Still, Sylvain's words shed some light to the cloud hanging over Dimitri ever since Delthea met him. People held a grudge against the boy or maybe his family. She hadn't seen anything that went beyond glaring and hushed words, but if Sylvain felt obligated to warn him…

Where there is smoke, there is fire.

She believed those words to a literal sense. Anytime someone saw smoke back home, it spelled bad news. Nobody was foolish enough to play around with fire with how thick the woods were around those parts. It was what limited Delthea's channeling practice to minor little tricks.

There was a fire here somewhere and someone was pouring oil. It reminded just how out of her element Delthea was in the world of these elite nobles. There was nothing she could really do or say that would put out that fire or dampen it.

Her heart panged at the irony of it all. Eyepatch told her that her affinity, her element, was fire, the same as Sylvain's. Even now, she didn't know what to make of her power. But everywhere she went, something was burning.

It was why she jumped at the chance to be of use, no matter how menial. She wasn't normally eager to put herself to work but she had a lot of debts to eventually repay. Might as well start now.

Like she had done many times before back home, Delthea placed down the tray on the counter where foodstaff would eventually come to clean. Despite how many trays had piled to the side, the countertop sparkled, the sunlight reflecting off the well-cleaned steel surface. Workers here really pulled their weight. It was polished like a mirror, reflecting Delthea's face and light right back at her.

It was why she noticed the cup sitting on her tray.

With cracked streaks that spiderwebbed across its entire surface and light bouncing off it like a shoddy kaleidoscope, a lone glass cup looked as if it was on the precipice of shattering completely.

It was of the same glass that Sylvain had tried to break.

It was Hilda's.

Chapter End