Day 3 of Horsebow Moon

Someone had cleared their throat loudly to break the silence.

Santaniel stared back at the accusatory eyes and listened to the whispers spread amongst the students who he'd never even met before.

'You know what. I can take this. I've proven myself time and time again.' He thought, he smiled and walked through the little group and approached the Professor, "Hey Professor, I'm ready to help."

Byleth nodded his head and showed him where to go and who to question, he'd be joining up with Claude and Hilda, "Alright, I'll report back when we're done." He smiled as he pushed through the doors and jogged up the steps, trying to ignore the stares and whispers.

He reached the Entrance Hall and waved to Claude, walking down the stairs, "Hey, guy and gal, ready to start?" They both nodded and they walked to the Market Place to talk to Shamir, a knight that Santaniel had never met before.

"Hey Shamir, we were instructed to interrogate you..." the conversation dropped off in his mind and he traced his map in his head... 'As far as I know, Flayn lives on the third floor so she wasn't abducted in her sleep, but likely in the early morning or late afternoon.' He returned his attention to the present when Shamir addressed him, "If you're investigating me for being from Dagda, then you should interrogate your friend here too."

Santaniel wore a disappointed look, 'Just another person who hasn't seen him prove himself.' he thought. He shook his head and let Claude finish up before they moved onto the Dining Hall, where they talked to the head chef Molly who he waved to but was met with a distant look, cautious.

He frowned, "You seriously don't trust me either?" he asked, his frown deepening. "You move around the kitchen unnaturally, plus you're not from any marked region." He shook himself out of it and told the others he'd be waiting outside, he asked the serving attendant for a glass of juice and sat down at a table by himself while he waited.

He took a sip from his juice, getting his face slammed down into the wood and broke the glass, fresh blood painting the wood. "Hey look, another 'alien'." a brutish man half laughing, half accusatory, pressing his face down harder into the wood, shards cutting deeply into muscle.

Santaniel grimaced and remained silent, 'Don't make a scene, don't make a scene, don't make a scene...' coursing through his mind, 'Someone will help, right?'

His small prayer for help was answered by Claude and Hilda who screamed at the men who were assaulting him, they apparently hailed from the Alliance and served under house Gonereil. He stood and Hilda picked the shards from his face, Claude wiping the blood from his face, "You guys are like Arti after a fight..." he said, annoyed.

He thanked them afterwards and they moved onto Hanneman, he'd been creeping around Flayn and Lysithea as of late so they thought he'd be a prime suspect... Just like how people thought of Santaniel apparently.

They reached the gate towards the staff quarters, catching Hanneman on his way out, "Hey Teach!" Claude called as they approached, "We got some questions for ya!" The old man looked disgruntled and he sighed, waiting for them to approach, Claude started the spiel, asking the usual questions and asked if Flayn's Crest was worth kidnapping her for.

Hanneman started naming off the Four Saints, Macuil being one of them and it caused Santaniel to shift uncomfortably. Hanneman noticed and asked him, "Hm? Is something the matter? Might you have one of their Crests?" Santaniel shook his head and told him, "I only have the Crest of Ernest, or the Thorn Dragon," he seemed satisfied and Santaniel sighed mentally with relief.

As they finished up, Santaniel brushed his hair back and scratched his head, "Alright, well, we hit all the main people he requested. If you guys want to keep going around, I'll report back to Byleth." They both nodded and he copied Claude's salute back to him.

As he walked back to the classroom, the same three thugs from earlier assaulted him again, the biggest one pushing him up against a wall. With horrific fish breath he started to threaten him, "Now that-" and Santaniel cut him off, "Listen cat breath, work on your hygiene before you speak."

Santaniel rolled his eyes as the guy clenched up against his right arm, pinching at metal. "You're not very bright, are ya." He didn't pose it as a question and it only seemed to make the man angrier. "Shut it you shit mouthed freak!"

Santaniel's eyes noticeably started to slit, "Yeah. You're right. I am a freak. A freak that can take your life like you take-" he was cut off by a punch to the side of his face, leaving a red mark on his cheek, the man sneered happily until Santaniel loosed a stream of Fire into his face that set his hair to wild flames.

The one on the left threw a half assed punch into Santaniel's chest which he returned amped up with pure magic and sent him into the parallel wall, he glowered at the last one who just ran off.

He huffed and marched off towards the classroom, whispers abound still diving into his ears. 'Don't let your temper break entirely. It always ends badly.' he thought.

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Day 10 of the Verdant Rain Moon

Another week had passed and Santaniel was still the center of the rumors, he'd grown sick of it and only ever attended class for a couple minutes to get his homework.

Hephaestus and Arti tried to push him to still attend class and not let the rumors get to him, but he just couldn't force himself to go. Santaniel just practiced his axe wielding with Xavien and occasionally copied notes from Lysithea who had grown a bit colder to him in the past couple days, 'Probably because I'm skipping class.' he thought dismissively.

Santaniel took another swing into the tree and knocked it down, sliding through the wood with his silver axe. He hummed as cut it down for fire wood, preparing to roast some food later. He returned to the cottage he shared with the guys and found it burning. "I FORGOT THE PORTAL." He screamed, he summoned Luna and sucked the flames oxygen through the portal swiftly putting them out.

He stared at his home that nearly became ash, noticing a note on the ground that read, "Stay the hell out of our school." it was an anonymous message.

He kneeled in the sand and wept.

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Day 20 of the Verdant Rain Moon

Santaniel haphazardly casted Fire at a training dummy, knocking it down and setting it ablaze, the Crest of Macuil forming in front of his chest. It stayed there as Santaniel took aim at the next one.

Someone reached from behind him and gave him a hug around his waist, he knew who it was and didn't care, he shoved them off. He casted Lightning and obliterated the next dummy. They attempted it again and he repeated the action, this time they hit the dirt with a grunt and he moved on to the next target, summoning Bolganone.

The person latched onto his waist again, not letting go this time and he casted Luna on the last target before he whipped around, revealing the hot tears streaming down his face.

The dam had broken but the volcano laid dormant, "What?! What do you want from me?! This month has already been hell enough for me, why the hell should I have to deal with someone who I'm just going to leave behind in the next nine years like everyone else?! Huh?!" His eyes were slit, paralyzing light grew and fire licked at his tongue.

He stared down at Lysithea and saw fear in her eyes and his heart broke... He put his hands to her cheeks and made her look at him, "You'll last longer than me and do more in this world than I ever will Lys. I'm sorry for snapping at you like that."

He pulled her into a hug and patted her back, 'Her turn for whatever tears she has to be let go.' he thought, '...This is my family. They protect me. I'll be strong for them.' He pulled her in the embrace tightly and felt the tears racing down his back. His never stopped.

A couple minutes passed and Lysithea pulled out of the embrace and smiled at him, "We'll do great things in this world you mean. Neither of us will die in the oncoming years. We'll watch each other's backs." He returned the smile and responded, "Alright short stack. I'll promise you that."

———————

Santaniel shot awake, tear streaks marking his face and Arti sat by his bedside, for once without his mask. He was frowning. Santaniel shook his head and waved him off, making a shit excuse at to what he was dreaming about.

He went back to sleep, the Crest of Macuil burning brightly. Now with the knowledge of his friend watching over him, protecting him like always, an angel sitting with him.

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Day 21 of the Verdant Wind Moon

Santaniel didn't go to class yesterday and apparently that inflamed the rumors. He no longer wore a smile on his face and simply got through class when need be. When he was on his way to the marketplace, a student from the Blue Lions casted Silence on him and his right arm fell to his side, making him fall hard to the ground. It was heavier than he remembered.

He ignored it and marched on.

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Day 22 of the Verdant Rain Moon

People were still harassing him nonstop. Whether it was at the training grounds or in the dining hall, someone would have the gall to hit him or call him slurs or just straight up embarrass him.

He stopped caring.

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Day 23 of the Verdant Rain Moon

Manuela went missing too, she had been near Jeritza's room and rumors are flying about him. They find a way to connect Santaniel and now Hephaestus to the rumors as well. Hephaestus hadn't even been to the Monastery that week, not that they cared. Arti was still trying his best to push him to go to class, still try his best.

Why bother.

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Day 24 of the Verdant Rain Moon

He started staying in bed all day. Not even his family can get him out to practice with his axe or hammer. He doesn't cook. He doesn't eat. He just wants to sleep.

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Day 26 of the Verdant Rain Moon

Byleth comes to the island to try and shake him out of his stupor. He tells him about the leads he found with help from Jeralt. Santaniel lies and tells him that he's just been sick.

Byleth takes him at face value and leaves him alone in the house. Santaniel leans against the wall to let the dam break again.

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Day 28 of the Verdant Rain Moon

Santaniel is out of his room and takes on an encampment of Agarthan soldiers. He spills their thick black blood onto the sand and dirt. He burns them alive and the smell of rancid meat fills his nostrils. 'I'm not a beast' he thinks. The draconian blood that flows through him begs him to slay those that berate him. Begs him to let loose his fire upon these ungrateful heathens. He knows that's not himself.

Arti consoled him and let him cry on his shoulder afterwards. He talked him through it and set up some training with the class soon. Santaniel added another thing to his debt for Arti.

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Day 29 of the Verdant Rain Moon

Santaniel dodged the hell fire of arrows raining on him from Claude, having moved training to the island and away from the monastery.

He cut one arrow in half and then caught another, he rushed him as he was knocking the arrow and he jumped over him, landing on his shoulders and pinning him to the ground. Santaniel smiled at him flirtatiously and said, "You look cute down there."

The dark skinned man blushed heavily and coughed, sitting up when Santaniel got off laughing hysterically. He took a stance and beckoned Leonie up next, he needed heavy amounts of training to limber up before their next fight.

Leonie charged him, taking the same steps Jeralt had in their duels earlier this year. He rolled under the horizontal swipe and avoided the flurry of jabs afterwards, snapping the lance in half with his hammer.

She pulled her bow on him and shot three training arrows at once, scathing his calf as he jumped over the low shots, as he landed she pinned him with her weight, but Santaniel pulled a small dagger from his sleeve, pressing the flat of the blade to her throat.

She growled in frustration and he kissed her chin, drawing another irritated growl and a fierce slap that just made Santaniel laugh more.

He was back to being just him again. He just needed to let people in again. 'Thanks Arti.' He thought as Xavien threw a dagger at him, indicating their start to the spar.

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Day 31 of the Verdant Rain Moon

His eyes widened exponentially as the secret passage opened. Claude had just carried off Manuela and now they were in a secret crypt below the monastery filled with strange mechanisms and dust and grime aplenty.

The same cavalry unit from the Rite of Rebirth approached their group and spoke, "This crypt shall be your tomb," and he vanished into a purple cloud of Warp, units starting to spill out of the halls.

Santaniel took the front lines while wrapped in thick armor, wielding his upgraded war hammer courtesy of the Professor as an attempt to cheer him up. He cracked some skulls and stole one of the keys from a general, unlocking the next door and moving into the next room.

He pushed a unit into one of Lysithea's spells and watched them turn to nothing more than a scorch mark. Byleth approached one of the panels and it activated, using a spell like Warp to send him to a predetermined location, the rest followed him through the panel and into the next room, moving through their army like a knife through warm butter.

He cut down a Mage with a familiar looking mask that made his blood boil, watching theirs spill cooled his own temperature.

--

As he left the room last, Arti started to step on the tile. Echoing steps filled the room, armor clanking off tiles. He spun around as a man threw a punch into his stomach, metal spikes piercing organs. He grit his teeth, Abraxas cast on the man in front of him. His breathing was already labored, and he had more to fight...

And that damn masked bitch stood in front of him. Silver axe in hand to dispatch of him. He tried to call sparks of magic to his hand, but it faltered and his magic refused to come. He closed his eyes and tried to Scry...

Nothing.

The tiles wouldn't even work either... "I'm sorry Santi. I know you want revenge, I know you want everyone to live... But I may just have to go down swinging here.

His blood boiled of rage and the Crest of the Beast, and he lunged, ready to tear them apart.

This was his swan song.

--

Santaniel broke through the metal gates and cast Luna on the unfortunate souls that lay in front of him, screams of anguish vanishing within the void. He stepped through the battalions of soldiers and clashed with the man in front of him. The hammer clanging against the black steel of the scythe, sparks shining off his hammer as it snapped under the pressure.

Jumping back, he avoided the cast of Lightning and charged, his arm catching the scythe and dislodging it from his grasp. Byleth slashed over his head and wrapped it around the Death Knight, Dark Spikes T causing another massive explosion and making him buckle.

Santaniel approached quickly, daggers in his hands as he slashed wildly, catching in the man's armor, dislodged from his grasp he brought his gauntleted hands up and into his chin, the Crest of Ernest burning heavily in front of him as he sent the man flying into the distant wall.

The next sight nearly made him give into his draconic urges, his eyes slitting and glowing ominously. He lunged at the man in crimson and white armor, a jet of white fire loosing from his throat as he passed through the thick magic mist.

He cursed ten times over in Brigid and Fódlan tongue, mixing some very colorful ones together that made Petra's eyes widen.

He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding out, he smiled and looked around.

"Hey Professor. Everyone alrigh-"

Santaniel's breath caught in his throat when he saw Arti bloodied and broken, his head cradled between Hephaestus' legs. His breath quickened and he was about to pass out until he felt Leonie lay her hand on his shoulder with sadness in her eyes, already inferring the worst.

'There's no way someone like Arti died to a couple of brutes... right?' he thought.

Santaniel approached and stared at Hephaestus, "He's..." the sentence couldn't be finished, he refused to accept it. Santaniel had gone through so much to make sure his family didn't die... he failed.

He fucking failed. He felt for a pulse and couldn't find one... no breathing... nothing. Santaniel just lost one of his best friends.

Santaniel was reeling, before he asked, "...how." Byleth spoke up, "He was ambushed by a gang of brawlers. He was surrounded by their dead bodies when we found him. He had died before we got there." Santaniel couldn't take it anymore.

The volcano erupted.

"Do you know how much this guy meant to me? This guy is the reason I'm still alive, still me. So many times he saved me from the depths of despair, from myself and death it's damn self. He gave everything to me, his time, his effort, his care. Now he's FUCKING GONE!" he was up in Byleth's face, teeth bared and gritted together. His eyes took up the glow of his mother's.

There was anger, rage, melancholy, all the emotions he held in for years, fucking years, in his voice, followed with wet sobs as he spoke. "He-" his voice broke and he walked to the bodies of those that killed his best- no.

His brother, his damn brother. And he burned them. To the point ashes didn't remain. He made a crater of pure hell fire and just pushed down into it, he sobbed with anguish as he burned his way to hell and burnt down the realm itself, a Nabatean's blood coursing through his veins, he closed his eyes and knelt.

He just wanted to go home.

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Day 2 of the Horsebow Moon

It was the day of Arti's funeral. There weren't enough rain drops to match Santaniel or Xavien's tears. Hephaestus was their rock but he was hurting too. They buried him on the island next to his parents. The inscription on the tombstone reading,

"In loving memory of the man who smiled with his eyes and made all those around him laugh. He raised everyone up while he, himself was in pain. Arti was truly the best friend anyone could have.

"Rest in peace to the brother and best friend of Beast and Man alike."

1156-1180

Arti Luis Weber

"He died with four hundred and thirty six weeks left."

—————

Flayn had joined the class, but this was the month that Santaniel would show what he was and truly made of.

The legends spoke of a Guardian Angel- No. Guardian Saint that scorched anyone with hellfire, who dared to harm his family.

The legends would be formed in the molten ways, not of the world, but of the ones of his rage and anguish.

Four Hundred and Thirty Five Weeks Remain

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Hey all! A big thanks to my friend Sbee who gave me the idea of the dream sequence.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and the story up to this point. Have an amazing night... or day? Love you all!