Author's Notes: For anyone interested to know, I currently expect the final chapter to be Chapter 55, though it's possible it might take one more. So yes... we are nearing the end :)
Guest- Thank you! I feel like very few chapters have ended on cliffhangers, so I try to make them earned when they do happen.
Ethan Kironus- Hmm... just what is Marianne up to, indeed? We might have to wait a bit longer to find out!
Chapter 50
Day 9 of Horsebow Moon, Imperial Year 1177
"Your Highness… where are you, Your Highness?" Rodrigue called out somewhat anxiously.
Dimitri and Dedue were kneeling in a small grove of trees watching a deer in the distance. The buck bolted at the sound of Rodrigue's voice. The prince sighed as he jumped out of the brush.
"We're right here, Rodrigue. Dedue spotted a big one, but you scared him off."
"Ah… my apologies, but please let me know when you plan to go off on your own next time," Rodrigue requested.
Dimitri hid a frown. "Please, Rodrigue. You'll start reminding me of my uncle if you keep such a close eye on me…"
That was, after all, one of the reasons they were out hunting. Rufus usually kept the prince secluded in the castle, supposedly for the sake of "security", but the regent was unwilling to argue against Rodrigue whenever he visited the capital. Dimitri was by no means a hunting aficionado, but it was a good way to stay active and spend time with two of the most important people remaining in his life.
Of course, there were still others missing.
As he and Dedue tailed Rodrigue to another glade popular with the deer, Dimitri asked, "Hey… is there any chance Felix will come next time? I haven't seen him in so long…"
Rodrigue was slow to answer. "He's… still grieving. I suppose we all are in our own way. His way unfortunately keeps him at home. I'm sorry, Your Highness."
"I'm disappointed, of course, but… I understand," Dimitri allowed. "On another note… is it really necessary for you to always call me 'Your Highness'? It's setting a bad example for Dedue. Just 'Dimitri' is fine."
"It's what you are, so why shy away from it?"
"It's not that I'm shying away, but I don't need to be constantly reminded of it. You don't like it when I call you 'Duke Fraldarius', do you?"
Rodrigue smiled gently. "They are not comparable. A duke is just a title. Vassals obey my orders because they have to. Kings and their heirs are something more, though. An idea… a symbol. The good ones are, at least. Especially right now, when so little in this world seems certain."
"I know that."
"Just consider it a gentle reminder of the value of your life, Your Highness. I don't want you to ever forget how precious it is."
Dimitri broke eye contact when Rodrigue's gaze seemed to pierce his very soul.
"Lord Rodrigue is correct, Your Highness. You are irreplaceable," Dedue added.
"Aren't I, though? If I were dead, the people could find a new king or queen. They can be the symbol instead," Dimitri pointed out as they reinitiated the walk.
Rodrigue contended, "But they wouldn't be the son of Lambert or the sole survivor of Duscur. I can't stress enough how important that is to the people. And who says your replacement would be an equal choice? You want to pick up your father's reforms and restore relations with Duscur, correct?"
Dimitri glanced at Dedue and admitted, "That's true..."
Rodrigue continued, "Not everyone feels the same way, but there are many who would follow along with those goals just because of who you are."
"I see your point," Dimitri said with a sigh. "It's a heavy burden, though."
Rodrigue stopped so he could turn around and put a hand on the prince's shoulder. He said, "I know. But that's why we're here for you, Your Highness. No matter what you do or where life takes you, you'll always have my support. And even when I'm gone, I trust your friends to do the same. It's about much more than your royalty to us. Many will only recognize you as the prince, but to us who know you, you're every bit as dear as a person. Please try to remember that. Do you agree, Dedue?"
"Yes. I did not come here because I believed in Faerghus. I came here to serve because I believed in your goodness, Your Highness," Dedue avowed.
Dimitri finally smiled weakly in acceptance. Before he could say anything, Rodrigue suddenly pointed through the trees and whispered, "This way, both of you."
Dimitri and Dedue followed him while carefully avoiding crunching any dead leaves. When Rodrigue halted, they spotted another buck across the glade.
"I don't know if it's as big as the one I scared off, but I feel like I owe you this one," Rodrigue joked.
"Very well," Dimitri said with a soft chuckle as he reached for an arrow. He stopped himself, however. He preferred Dedue being recognized for bringing the largest haul back home for dinner, so he offered, "Actually… why don't you take it, Dedue? You were there with me when the last one ran off."
"If that is your wish, Your Highness," Dedue said as he raised his bow.
A Hope Reborn - Day 22 of the Blue Sea Moon, Year 1187 (Fódlan Calendar)
Dimitri sometimes wondered why Rodrigue almost always referred to him as "Your Highness" and otherwise stressed his role as prince even when Dimitri discouraged it. Rodrigue treated him as a son in many ways, but Dimitri often found the way he was addressed to be overly formal and dispassionate.
His usual conclusion was that Rodrigue spoke that way simply out of respect for tradition. That was undeniably a factor, but it never stopped Rodrigue from usually referring to the late king as only "Lambert." There was an age difference, of course, but that seemed unimportant when Dimitri verbally did not care.
Dimitri had recently begun to consider another motivation. Rodrigue likely knew how little regard Dimitri held for his own life after the events in Duscur, and he was perhaps subliminally encouraging the prince to continue living for the sake of his people until he finally remembered how to love himself again. The reminders provided by Rodrigue and Dedue may well have kept Dimitri alive.
During his time in Almyra, Dimitri had rediscovered the value of his life as just a human. In the process, though, he had abandoned his responsibilities as prince. And yet… his name still meant something.
Dimitri was laughed off by a goatherder the last time he claimed to be the prince of Faerghus. As he declared it before Fódlan's Locket, however, everyone who heard his words was silent. Maybe it was the improved posture and new haircut. Maybe it was the decisive tone with which he said it.
Almyran soldiers traded shocked glances but did not dare interrupt the proceedings. Frederica finally whispered something to the nearby sentries and proceeded down the stairs. The gates of Fódlan's Locket started to open a minute later. Thankfully, the garrison was evidently under the impression that the fighting between Leicester and Faerghus at Gronder was solely the result of the chaotic conditions and not in part due to the troubled prince. The reaction to Dimitri's name would have otherwise been much more hostile.
During the wait, Khalid finally whispered in Dimitri's ear, "What are you doing? I would have thought of something."
"Just like you'd somehow think of a way to keep my existence a secret? Come on, Khalid. It was always going to end this way if you ever opened the border. I spared you the effort of coming to the realization."
"You could have at least told me. No secrets, remember?"
"I hadn't planned on doing it like that. I only made the decision when it became obvious that we were about to get shot," Dimitri insisted.
It was true. Dimitri had requested to see Fódlan again to discover how he would feel… if his heart still lay there or if he was ready to move on. When he beheld the scene, he knew it was only a matter of time before he made his way home again. He was the prince of Faerghus, and his name meant something to him, too. The revelation would herald complications for Fódlan's political landscape, but it was the only reasonable outcome other than his death. He had chosen against death.
Frederica soon stepped forward alongside her retinue.
"The one-eyed demon… at least that's how the survivors of Gronder described you. You were supposed to be dead, though," Frederica observed.
"So I thought as well, but Claude saved my life and brought me to Almyra," Dimitri explained.
"Against your will?"
Dimitri shook his head. "Nothing like that. Claude believed it would help stabilize Queen Byleth's rule if I left, but the choice was mine. I've been treated well and given promotions, as has another native of Fódlan who found their way into our ranks." Calling Marianne out by name may have been beneficial, but Dimitri felt it was important to protect her privacy until he had her permission.
Frederica digested this before asking, "So… is Claude telling us the truth?"
"To the very word, upon my honor. We want to bring lasting peace here, and the best way to achieve that is for Claude to take the throne of Almyra. Please… give him a chance to explain the situation and what he requests of you."
"Even if you decline the proposal, you'll be the first person in Fódlan to hear all the juicy details of how Prince Dimitri survived. Not bad, right?" Khalid added.
An Alliance general obviously had no obligation to follow the orders of a Kingdom prince, but the approval of a full-blooded Fódlan noble lent significant credibility to Khalid in Frederica's eyes. She turned to the Alliance's former leader and looked him over… bandages, bruises, and all.
"… You look terrible," she said simply.
Khalid grinned with humor. "This face could have withstood two punches, but I guess the third finally did me in."
"Well, I guess I should be flattered that you hiked all the way here looking like that just to talk with me." Frederica sighed and glanced back towards the fort. "I'll hear you out, but just the two of you. The rest stay out here. Is that acceptable?"
"You've got a deal," Khalid agreed. He explained the details of this arrangement to Nousha and left her in charge of the others while he and Dimitri were escorted inside.
The war in Fódlan was over, and there were rumblings of turmoil in the east. Consequently, the garrison at Fódlan's Locket had swelled to its largest size in many years. The multitude the soldiers watched them curiously, but Frederica kept silent as she led Dimitri and Khalid to the personal office of the fort's commander. The space was well lit by several windows, and the furniture was of quality material without being ostentatious.
"Alright. You have twenty minutes to impress me," Frederica said as she sat down.
Khalid took the leading role as he explained his background, the arrival and escape from Fódlan, and the course of the war with both speed and grace. Dimitri occasionally added details he felt were important and supported any of Khalid's claims that Frederica initially found too difficult to believe. Khalid finished by describing his plans for the confrontation with James while brushing over some of the details out of his usual caution.
The story finished around the time someone stopped by to bring cups of tea. While she let her drink cool, Frederica told her guests, "I sympathize with your position, truly. And as commander of Fódlan's Locket, I arguably have a duty to engage in any plan that might end the raids. But… I could never get approval from Holst or Her Majesty to lead an expedition into Almyra. It would be a complete scandal if it failed. We're trying to rebuild right now, not create new enemies."
Khalid told her, "Regarding you last point, James will also need to rebuild. He's not going to invade Fódlan out of revenge. He's too practical for something like that."
Frederica put her feet on her desk with an amused grin. "Maybe we're better off with a practical neighbor than a fantasist like you, Claude. Better the devil you know and all that."
Khalid leaned forward and rubbed his hands together. "Allow me to play fortune-teller for a moment, and I'll tell you what happens if you abandon Almyra to James's rule. He'll order the raids on the Throat to cease, and things will start seeming pretty quiet up here. For a year or two, you'll be thinking, 'Gee, I made such a great decision to ignore that brat Claude.' Eventually, though, James is going to name a new mirza. Maybe he drags one of my cousins out of monastic life, or maybe he rewards one our nobles that he's fond of. Before long, the people of the Tabarzin will start complaining to this new mirza that the blood of their ancestors has never been avenged, that armies of Fódlan stand behind the Locket ready to invade at any moment, and that Almyra must strike first. They'll sing about how the mirza is a hero for maintaining Almyran security, and soon enough, the mirza will start to believe it. Maybe they'll even see themselves as a legitimate contender for the throne. With half of Almyra calling for war, James will reluctantly permit the mirza to carry out smaller raids to satiate the bloodlust without the need for a full-scale conflict. He'll hate himself for it, but he'll do it anyways. And all of that is not even factoring in the fact that I plan to march on Istakhr with or without you. Even if I'm defeated and you aren't there, Fódlan will still be antagonized by proxy."
Khalid paused long enough to take a sip of his tea. "How do I know all this? Because it's the exact same thing that happened to my father. Call my brother whatever you like… good, bad, anything in between, but I promise you this- if he becomes king, absolutely nothing changing in the long run is the best-case scenario."
Frederica considered his argument carefully. She finally said apologetically, "I still don't have authorization for something like that."
"I know. I'd say somewhere around fifty good soldiers is the minimum commitment for me to not get laughed at for wasting my army's time, but I don't expect the entire garrison to come. We don't even have time to wait for a larger force to be organized," Khalid promised. He tossed an envelope in front of Frederica. "And I'm well aware that Queen Byleth can't officially approve any operation right now, but would unofficial permission be enough for you? Send a trusted messenger with my request. You can also provide this letter I already wrote especially for her so she knows it's really me. It doesn't go into any details that would cause a controversy if it falls into the wrong hands, but gets my message across. She and I have an established relationship, and I'm certain she'll be willing to help."
Frederica tapped the envelope as she considered this. "Unofficial permission would be enough to clear my conscience, yes. But even if she agrees, I can't join you myself. It would still give the impression of a formal, planned operation even there isn't any documentation. It has to be led by somebody that would believably go rogue."
Khalid added, "And with a personality that might charm others into joining. Bonus points if it's someone friendly enough with Holst or Queen Byleth to help ease the process."
Frederica suddenly laughed and said, "You know… I think I've got just the right person." She went to the door, whispered to a guard outside, and returned to her seat. As they waited, she told the pair, "If he's willing to lead an expedition into Almyra and we can secure Her Majesty's support, I'll raise no further objections."
Dimitri and Khalid traded quick smiles of relief before the door swung open and a man stepped inside, the room ringing with each heavy footstep. Dimitri was not prepared to see a man even taller than him flippantly take a seat without much attention for etiquette. He wore a uniform, but its sloppiness suggested that he did so begrudgingly.
The newcomer asked, "Yeah, what do you need, boss?"
Frederica tried to hide her annoyance as she explained, "Claude, Prince Dimitri… this is Balthus von Albrecht. He is only temporarily stationed here, but he is a lifelong friend of my cousin Holst. He also served with distinction in Her Majesty's Resistance Army."
Dimitri could not shake the feeling that the man was familiar. Khalid felt the same, as he asked, "Have we… met before? I recall the heir to House Albrecht being younger."
"You may have seen me around back at the academy, yeah. Long story. Not worth getting into," Balthus answered. "And no, I'm not the heir to House Albrecht or anything else… other than my debts, I guess."
Frederica insisted, "Alright, you will all have plenty of time to chat later. There are more important matters to discuss."
Balthus was provided with an abbreviated version of the same story Frederica was told. At the end of it, Balthus stated, "So… you expect me to convince a chunk of this garrison to follow me to Almyra? What am I supposed to say? That it's the only way to end the raids, and that we should forget all the bureaucracy and just go? I'm not saying it's asking for the impossible, but I'm not sure if even I'd agree to it. Will the pay be good at least?"
Khalid replied, "If we lose, you'll get a burial free of charge. If we win, though, yes… It will be very good. Probably the best payday of your life. Plenty of fame, too, if that's your thing."
Balthus's eyes widened. "Why didn't you start with that? That's gonna make things a lot easier!" he exclaimed, seemingly unworried about the alternative outcome of the gamble.
"What I propose is this, then," Frederica began. "I'll depart for Garreg Mach to meet with Her Majesty myself. Ostensibly, negotiations with the Almyran delegation have stalled, and I will be there to inform the queen of the situation. In private, though, I'll deliver the proposition along with Claude's letter. Before I leave here, I'll inform everyone that Balthus has been put in charge of the Locket and that a camp should be set up for the Almyrans until negotiations resume. Balthus, I need you to put together a team willing to join Claude and Prince Dimitri while I'm away. If I return with Her Majesty's approval, you'll be free to sneak off with them at dark. With any luck, I might make it back here before dawn tomorrow."
"That's a hard journey. I'll make sure you're well paid for the effort," Khalid promised.
"Ha! Save it for if you win. Otherwise, the last thing I need is an incriminating bagful of Almyran coins on my desk."
"Sounds like a deal, then," Khalid said as he stood and reached out a hand to Frederica. All four shared handshakes.
Dimitri and Khalid remained inside the fort long enough to hear Frederica announce her departure for Garreg Mach before being ushered out to their army. The gate was left open behind them, and a group of Frederica's soldiers helped set up a few tents and canopies for their guests. They looked anxious to be standing among the Almyrans, but they seemed pleasantly relieved when they returned to their posts unharmed.
Otherwise, neither group dared approach the other. After explaining the situation to the team, Dimitri and Khalid took seats in the grass alongside Nousha and Engy.
"So… you are a real prince… like Khalid, yes?" Engy asked. "Have you been hiding a crown from us this whole time? Maybe the whole fort will help us if you give it their commander, haha!"
Dimitri shook his head with a smile. "I'm afraid I have neither a crown nor a throne to return to. Any title I have is only a concept now. It's for the best."
"But do your people feel the same?" Nousha probed.
Dimitri sighed. "Likely not, I imagine. We'll have to resolve that somehow."
Nousha then asked, "So… how many people knew? And when did you plan on telling the rest of us?"
"Khalid and Marianne, as well as the king and queen. Not even Ariella knew, though she had her suspicions. As for when I planned to tell the rest of you… never, perhaps. I thought I had left all of that behind. But… I suppose in the end… there are some things you just can't run from. I apologize for the secrecy."
"Don't worry about it. I'm assuming it was Khalid's idea, anyways," Nousha said. Before Khalid could complain, she amended, "Though I'm sure he had his reasons, too. You can make it up to me by properly explaining how the heck you ended up here. There's no need to be coy anymore, right?"
Dimitri looked to Khalid and indicated that he was fine sharing the story. Other soldiers were already inching closer with curiosity. When Khalid motioned that he did not object, Dimitri embarked on his tale. He covered not just the war in Fódlan but also the academy days and even the Tragedy the Duscur. The crowd grew until seemingly every Almyran was listening. Many parts of the story were unpleasant, but it felt liberating to finally speak of them again with no details withheld.
At the end, Nousha took a long gulp from her wineskin as if just listening to the story was exhausting. She noted, "I always figured you had a troubled life, Dimitri, but... wow. I'm so sorry. It doesn't matter how much resolve you've got… no one is built to endure that much tragedy."
"Perhaps," Dimitri conceded. "And yet… I don't know how I would choose any other life over it. My family, and friends, and everyone else… I could never trade them away. Despite all the loss, there was so much good there, too."
"You care very much for your home, I can see. I am sad we took you so far away from it," Engy said with unusual solemnity.
Dimitri shook his head. "Don't lose your smile for my sake. I have many regrets in my life, but choosing to leave with Khalid is not one of them. I did not appreciate what I had, nor did I understand the world beyond my own objectives. Coming here… meeting all of you… it may have saved my life. Certainly, my very soul."
Khalid put a hand on his shoulder, while Engy smiled again with Dimitri's permission. She told him, "If you are to go home… you will put in a good word for us, yes?"
Dimitri smiled in return. "The very best."
As the crowd gradually dispersed and reformed into smaller groups, Dimitri noticed Abbas sitting alone with his arms crossed and pretending to be asleep. Dimitri indicated to his friends that he planned to speak with the elder prince.
"Are you alright, Abbas?" Dimitri asked as he took a seat next to the man.
Abbas ignored the question for a few seconds before reluctantly opening his eyes. "How do you think I feel? I imagined I was in some destined duel to slay my brother, but the whole time he was just wasting time and trying to spare my life. I've been utterly humiliated, Dimitri."
"I think I have an idea of how you feel. I don't know if you were listening just then, but-."
"I heard all of it," Abbas grunted.
"Ah. Well… good. Anyways, I was a similar position as you. I thought my life's sole remaining purpose was to kill my stepsister. I was convinced that our fates were profoundly intertwined. And in the end, I'm not sure if she even gave two thoughts to me. I was just one of many obstacles on her path. It was an embarrassing realization… a humbling one." Dimitri shrugged. "But here I am now, with all of that in the past. It sounds obvious, but the best way to move on from something like that is to just… move on. The longer you sit here alone like this, the longer people will remember where you were and what you did. So, come on… join the rest of us. It's not good to be alone like this. It certainly wasn't for me."
Abbas snorted. "And what… am I really supposed to believe Khalid will just forgive me? He saved my life, but only because our father asked him to. Nothing I do is going to change anything."
"And why do you believe that?"
"Because I'm not sure if I'll ever really forgive him… and what he represents. Even him saving my life doesn't change all of that. If I can't get over that, why would Khalid forgive years of torment I put him through?"
Dimitri frowned. Arguing that Khalid was simply not as bitter did not seem productive, so he instead questioned, "I have to ask, Abbas… were you ready to kill him during that duel? Or were you about to stop yourself?"
Abbas shrugged. "I thought I was ready, but when he gave me that signal… I don't know. Khalid lied to me all the time growing up. Manipulated me, poisoned me… but every time he ever made that signal, he really was trying to help. So even though you'd assume it was a desperate move in hopes that I'd spare him… I think I still trusted him in that moment."
"I think that's a sign that you aren't as far gone as you seem to believe," Dimitri declared as he stood up. "Well… the invitation is still open for you to join us whenever you're ready. Take care, Abbas."
Dimitri turned to leave, but Abbas interrupted, "By the way… remember your first night at the Dunya? I was trying to raze your tongue with that dish I spiced, not offer you an enjoyable 'Almyran Welcome.' How did you choke that down, let alone enjoy it?"
"I'd prefer if you keep this to yourself, but… I lost my taste a decade ago after Duscur. That dish was one of the few times my tongue has sensed anything ever since. Don't worry, you didn't get your spices confused or anything," Dimitri explained with a sad smile. He had never shared that with anyone to avoid unnecessarily burdening them with pity, but in this case, the explanation probably came as a mercy.
Abbas chuckled in spite of himself and shook his head. "Well… that's just my luck, isn't it? Guess I deserved the embarrassment. I can't help you out, but I hope you get your taste back at some point."
The eldest prince did not join Dimitri, but he did eventually approach another group he probably sensed he'd feel more welcome. Dimitri felt it was a satisfactory step forward.
The sun had just been swallowed by the silhouette of the fort when Balthus stepped through the gates and found Dimitri and Khalid. He pulled them aside to share the news. His expression did not look promising.
"How many are we looking at, Balthus? Be honest," Khalid asked quietly.
"Twenty… maybe thirty at best?" Balthus guessed. "I first targeted a few buddies that are as hopelessly in debt as I am, and they helped spread the word. It's crowded here right now, but I think we reached out to pretty much anyone that has any chance of going along with it. Most just aren't biting. I tried hinting that we've got more consent from the higher ups than we're saying publicly, but a lot of them are still nervous. Others just don't want to help because you're Almyran."
Khalid sighed. "Well… we've still got time until Frederica returns, I guess. Maybe there's something else we can say to convince some of them."
"Possibly, but I've got nothing right now. Maybe they just need time to think of some creative ways to use all that gold they'd earn."
"In that case, why not stay out here with us? Perhaps we can think of something as a group," Dimitri suggested.
"I guess there's nothing stopping me from doing that," Balthus admitted. "Do you have any good drinks in Almyra? Might be my only chance to try some."
"Best we can do is some rationed wine, but you're free to taste it," Khalid said as he held out a wineskin.
Balthus took a swig as all three sat down together. "Not bad… but not really that unique, either." He glanced at the man from Faerghus. "So… you're really Prince Dimitri, huh? Fancy meeting you. I had a friend mention offhand that she wished you two could have talked. Pretty unusual since she rarely showed interest in anything. Her name's Hapi."
Dimitri's brow furrowed. "Is that so? What did she want to discuss?"
"About that lady that ran the Faerghus Dukedom... Cordelia or something? Hapi thought she had some information that would have been of interest to you. I'm not sure where she is these days, but maybe you could track her down if we get through this alive."
"Cornelia… I had almost given up on her ever facing justice," Dimitri muttered. "It's odd… There was a time I would have rabidly leapt at any leads, but I can't help but now feel the most important thing is improving the lives of the survivors of Duscur and those who suffered under the Dukedom. Vengeance is secondary at best."
"The distinction between justice and vengeance can be fine at times, but I think finding Cornelia and putting her before trial easily fits the former," Khalid told him.
Dimitri nodded. "I tend to blur them badly, so I'm glad to hear someone else say it. I guess any good leader should know how to answer for both the living and the dead. Multitasking has never been my strong suit, but if I'm ever in a position to do so, I will seek this 'Hapi' out. Thank you for telling me, Balthus."
"Speaking of vengeance…" Khalid pivoted. "Is Holst really upset enough to kill me over what happened to Hilda? You must have known her, too. I vaguely remember Hilda mentioning a 'Baltie' once or twice."
Balthus's face fell. "… Sure, of course I knew Hilda. Holst wouldn't kill you, but yeah, he didn't take the news well. It was hard for me, too. I felt terrible that I wasn't there. I had just joined up with the Resistance Army, but Byleth gave me permission to go track down her body and bring it home. Dangerous and unpleasant mission, but I wouldn't have been able to sleep at night if I knew she was still out there." He wiped at his mouth and added, "But it's not like you're the one who actually killed her, you know? We can blame the Empire for that. We're on the same team now, and that's all that matters."
It was obvious that Balthus was still upset despite his assurances. Thankfully, there was no time to linger on it. Some of the stationed soldiers were emboldened by the sight of Balthus conversing with the Almyrans and were beginning to cautiously step out through the gates. A young woman closely followed by a pair of companions approached Dimitri.
"Is it true that you're the dead prince of Faerghus?" the woman in front asked as she wringed her hands.
"Something like that," Dimitri replied.
"But how? My brother personally saw your body at Gronder," she questioned.
Dimitri managed to simultaneously sigh and smile. "I can tell the story again. But if there's anyone else in there that wants to hear, bring them out now so I won't have to do it a third time."
The woman did exactly that. Soon enough, there was a large crowd of Fódlan's defenders gathered to hear the tale. This rendition covered more details since the audience would actually recognize some of the relevant names and locales. Some of the Almyrans listened again to learn of any new insights.
"So… are you going to try staking a claim as king of Faerghus?" someone asked at the end.
Several others were quick to pile on similar questions, prompting Khalid to motion them to stand down and say, "Alright, give the guy a break. We haven't decided anything yet past resolving the crisis in Almyra."
They were all disappointed to be denied a proper answer, but they did not argue. Rather than return to the fort, most of garrison stayed and began to converse with their neighbors. Both sides maintained an undeclared curiosity of the other, and now they had confirmation that sitting adjacent for an extended period of time would not result in an outbreak of the plague or some other disaster.
Dimitri was admiring the sight when Balthus leaned in and whispered, "Hey… who's that woman over there?"
Dimitri followed where Balthus's gaze was directed. "You mean one with the green sash?"
"Yeah, that's who I'm looking at. Obviously."
"Her name is Nousha. What about her?"
"I mean… she's pretty fine looking, wouldn't you say?" Balthus replied as if it was self-explanatory.
Dimitri blushed at how quickly the conversation had devolved into absurdity. He warned, "Umm… sure, I suppose, but I wouldn't use that kind of language to her face."
"Gonna have to second that," Khalid agreed. "If you're interested, just talk to her like a normal human being. Gawking has an extremely high chance of backfiring."
"Alright, alright, I was just asking," Balthus eased.
"If you're willing to be mature, I can call her over. You'll need to meet her, anyways," Khalid offered.
Balthus agreed, so Khalid waved Nousha to join them. She eyed the unfamiliar man suspiciously.
Dimitri explained, "Nousha, this is Balthus. He's been appointed to lead Fódlan's outfit should they join us. Balthus… this is Nousha, acting commander of our mounted divisions."
"Nice to meet you, Nousha. A real pleasure," Balthus began.
Nousha met this with understandable skepticism. "Indeed…" she muttered. "Forgive my saying, but you don't really seem like the leader type, Balthus."
Balthus laughed as he lounged with his arms behind his head. "Ha! Well, you've got a point. I'm more of a roaming warrior type than a soldier. I don't suppose you've heard of Fódlan's legendary King of Grappling, have you?"
"Umm… no," Nousha muttered. "If you're not a soldier, why are you here at Fódlan's Locket?"
"Good question. My buddy Holst used to run the place, but he had to leave after he got a big-time promotion. He asked me to stay here for a while and make sure everything stayed running smoothly during the transition. It's not really my thing, but the pay is pretty good, so I shouldn't complain too much. I wouldn't say anything if it wasn't for the haircut."
"The haircut?" Khalid repeated.
"Yeah, it used to come down here to my shoulders," Balthus explained as he motioned the original length with his hand. "Frederica said I looked too unprofessional, though. I'll probably let it grow back out once I leave."
Nousha cringed. "No… please don't. Seriously."
"What? Not a fan?" Balthus uttered in dismay. His expression flipped quickly, though, as he said, "Or you just really like it the way it is, don't you? I guess it has its charms."
"I definitely never said that…" Nousha sighed. "Why do you care about my approval, anyways? Because I'm an important general? Think you might need me for favors or something?"
This seemed to genuinely surprise Balthus. "Huh? No, of course not! I mean, I do need favors occasionally… maybe even often. But I don't care about you being a general or anything. I was born a noble, you know. Could have been the heir to my family and call in as many favors as I wanted. I left all that behind, though."
"You abandoned your nobility? Did you not care about disappointing your family?" Nousha asked with some alarm.
"It was my very nobility tearing the family apart, actually. Not sure if I want to get into all the details right now. I've got a half-brother who's the new heir, though, and he'll be twice as good for the role as I was. I get why others might feel differently if they're called to the task, but I don't see any point getting worked up over expectations. I figure if I'm not up for the job, they'll just find someone else who can. Things usually work themselves out in the end, you know? That's why I just try to live my life."
Nousha stared at him for several seconds before she swung the strap of her wineskin over her shoulder and tossed it to Balthus. She told him, "The rationed wine is watered down so much it somehow manages to be blander than just water itself. Don't let that be your first impression of Almyra. I added a bit of something to mine that should help spice it up."
Dimitri and Khalid exchanged amused glances at this unexpected turn of events. They quietly agreed to slip away so the other two could enjoy each other's company in private.
The two princes soon discovered that their other companions were having equally enriching exchanges. Some were sharing stories of their homes or telling jokes. Another group of Almyrans was teaching a popular Meteoran sport to a team of Fódlan soldiers. They were using a ball borrowed from the fort.
"You know… perhaps the best way to sway them to help us is to just… stop worrying and let people talk," Dimitri mused.
Khalid agreed, "I think you might be right."
The players were soon arguing over the rules, so Khalid had to step in and be the final arbitrator. Dimitri got roped into playing as well. He eventually ended up on Fódlan's team after both sides tried pulling for his aid. Dimitri quickly realized that he had to moderate his throwing strength to not hurt anyone. One lob still launched with a bit too much heat. The ball bounced off someone's fingertips, caught a gust of wind, and sailed off the cliffside. Thankfully, they found a replacement quickly.
It eventually grew too dark for the game to continue, but this issue was remediated as the soldiers worked together to arrange a set of bonfires. The Almyrans were very experienced at the art and helped train their hosts from Fódlan. It was still somewhat difficult to see the ball, but that did not stop the players from relaunching the competition. The game lasted for another two hours, eventually resulting in an Almyran victory despite a spirited effort from the newcomers to the sport.
There was a mutual agreement that no one would go to sleep until Frederica's anticipated return. Hunger set in as the hours passed, so the soldiers worked together to share recipes and cook over their campfires. The Almyran army had limited resources, but plenty of ingredients were brought out from the fort for everyone to use. It was the first time Dimitri had seen many of the dishes since his academy days all those years prior. Even if he could not taste any of it, it brought a tear to his eye.
It was during this meal that several veterans of Claude's Gloucester campaign discovered that Nousha was the daughter of Nardel, a brief and mysterious retainer of Leicester's leader. They expressed sympathies upon learning of Nader's fate, and Nousha rewarded them by sharing tales of his celebrated life. Khalid divulged several humorous moments as well.
Dimitri sat with Khalid, Nousha, Engy, and Balthus as everyone rested after eating too much. They were presenting Balthus with a bit more information regarding what to expect once they were in Almyra.
"So… either we're there to do nothing or we're there to punch our way through a heavily defended castle. Alright. Which do you think is more likely?" Balthus asked.
Khalid shrugged. "To be completely honest with you, I don't know enough to put percentages to anything. Maybe I'll have a better idea once we're there and I have a chance to speak with James."
"And what about all the camel people if we end up fighting through enclosed hallways? Are they trained in close combat?"
Engy answered, "We know camels, but we know swords, too. Our army in Saba is small, so we train in everything."
"That's good to hear. People here tend to not be well-rounded unless they're from the academy. Some of our officers aren't even good at their single specialty because they only got the position because of their name," Balthus griped.
"Well, we've also got plenty of nepotism in Almyra," Khalid admitted. "Just look at me. Demetrius, Nousha, Anthony… all from important families, too. I guess Dimitri might not count despite being a prince since it didn't really factor into his success in Almyra."
"But you probably never bring me to Almyra in the first place if I wasn't a royal. Can't really ignore the role of my Crest in all of this, either," Dimitri pointed out.
"Shoot. Good point. Never mind, then." Khalid turned to Engy. "What about you? I'm not actually sure how you got your start."
"Oh! Well… Emira Maysun found me, you see," Engy answered excitedly. "In Saba, people will keep waystations along lengthy desert trails where people can rest overnight or trade and borrow camels. My family managed one of them. The royals were traveling by our home one day when someone else's camel broke loose and charged at their entourage. I don't know why… maybe it didn't like their fancy clothes, haha! All of the camels were spooked and ran in every direction. I tried to catch the emira when she fell off hers, and I helped chase down and calm each of their mounts."
"You actually managed to catch my aunt?" Khalid asked doubtfully.
"No… I was squished, but she was very happy about my spirit, haha! I was, umm… fifteen then. She invited me to come work at the royal stables… it was good money for my family. I worked my way up from there, yes?"
"Well, good to know there's a bit of hope left for our systems after all, even if it's only a little," Khalid concluded.
Nousha yawned and said, "I think everyone is getting more negative the longer we stay awake. I heard some people arguing earlier over whether the freezing winters of Fódlan or the dry summers of Almyra were more unbearable. Another group was debating whether it's more annoying for their meals to have a lack of meat or a lack of spices."
"Ha! Nothing brings people together quite like sharing grievances. What greater purpose is there for a friend other than having someone to listen to our whining?" Khalid joked.
The cry of a lone wyvern was heard approaching over the mountains just then. Everyone knew what it meant, and the crowd quieted with anticipation. Several minutes after the wyvern landed inside the walls, the fort's commander strode outside towards the assembled host. All stood in respect and gathered around. She looked understandably exhausted, but she did not waste time.
Frederica began, "I have just returned from detailing Her Majesty the Queen regarding the visit and proposition of the Almyran delegation. While she hopes that we can resume dialogue at a later date, she was clear that Fódlan cannot provide the aid you desire in an official capacity at this moment. I trust you and your companions all understand, Claude."
While some of the soldiers muttered or sighed in disappointment, Dimitri knew that the inclusion of the word "official" was intentional. Khalid nodded and replied, "We understand, and we appreciate that you at least took our request seriously."
Frederica walked closer to Balthus. She told him, "Thank you for looking after things in my absence. You may proceed with the rest of your orders… just as planned."
She stared at him meaningfully until Balthus agreed, "You got it, boss. Just as planned."
Frederica quickly glanced at both Dimitri and Khalid to ensure they also understood before turning around and announcing, "I'll be turning in for the night now. I ask that the Almyran forces withdraw before dawn, but anyone is free to stay up and out until then. Consider this your leave."
Dawn was only an hour or two away at that point, so anyone who did not plan to join the Almyran army had every reason to also go sleep. The garrison gradually said their goodbyes before following Frederica inside.
Balthus remained behind long enough to tell Dimitri and Khalid, "Some previous noes just expressed some newfound interest. I told them to gather anything they want to bring and be back out here in thirty minutes or so. I need to do the same, but I'll be ready."
The wait was unbearable, but Fódlan soldiers carrying packs finally began to slip through the gates one at a time before sunrise. They came without horses or wyverns, but they comprised a wide sampling of the garrison's demographics, experience, and skillsets.
One, two, three…
Balthus was the tenth to appear.
Twenty…
They had made it to thirty after all.
And then forty…
Fifty…
"Sixty-eight is the final total, including me," Balthus announced after an official count when the fort finally stilled. "A lot better than earlier, though I'm sure you hoped for more."
"Actually, it's an incredible success if you ask me," Dimitri replied.
Khalid agreed, "It's perfect. It was always about the principle, not the quantity. You did well, Balthus."
"In that case, I'll be expecting a bonus for my efforts," Balthus proudly proposed.
"Heh! I'll see if I can scrounge anything up. I should warn you, though, that a larger group probably means a reduced base pay per enlistee," Khalid joked.
The Almyrans greeted the volunteers with gratitude. Even Abbas briefly walked by to gruffly tell the princes, "Good job."
However, the merriment did not last long before the merged army began the hike down in earnest. They would begin the journey to Istakhr as soon as they collected their cache of weapons and linked up with their companions waiting at the Mirza's Citadel. Confronting the dangers of the upcoming struggle could no longer be put off as a future priority. Their successful mission on the Throat would mean nothing if it all ended with their bodies strewn across the Great Steppe of Elam. In fact, it would be worse than meaning nothing- such a disaster would prove a stumbling block for relations between Fódlan and Almyra for decades.
All they could do, though, was march forward.
