Chapter 6: Homecoming

The very same day of the discussion in Abyss, Jana left the monastery with a bag full of supplies tied to the horse she was riding. Already, her pace was exceeding the one she'd had when travelling to Garreg Mach. She was still careful to not ride the horse to death, of course, but speed was of the essence right now. It was imperative to reach the company's position as soon as possible.

Damn it, Captain. What kind of mess are we walking into?

Part of the reason for her hurry was that Monica's disappearance had been noticed at Garreg Mach. Guards were more vigilant and a search was going on. While nothing nefarious was suspected as of yet, her continued absence would no doubt raise worries and cause a quick dispatch of messengers in all directions, most dangerously in the direction of Baron Ochs himself. And, unlike herself, the Church of Seiros was not limited to horses. They had pegasi and clerics capable of Warp spells. It would not take long at all for the news of the young Lady Ochs' disappearance to reach her father's ears.

Hopefully, the Baron wouldn't fly off the handle. A man of his reputation, undeserved as part of it was, and skill was not to be trifled with and she truly hoped that Yuri's part of the plan worked. If it did, then his message would arrive shortly after the news of Monica's abduction. It turned out that having the rejects of all of Fodlan gathered in Abyss gave Yuri access to people who could cast Warp as well. Not like the Church had a monopoly on it anyway. The ability was rare, but it was by no means some obscure mystery. With that, there was at least a good chance that Baron Ochs would be calm enough to listen to whatever Jeralt, Byleth and this mysterious "Younger" had planned when the time came.

Jana sighed. Above all, she was worried. She felt worry over the fake abduction business and young Monica herself, worry over how things would turn out if the plan failed, and most of all, worry over what that thrice-damned letter had said. There was war on the horizon. Not just some minor dispute or a campaign abroad, but true all-out war all over the continent. A conspiracy near twelve-hundred years in the making was coming to a conclusion from what Jeralt's strange informant seemed to know. Any war organised for that long would be devastating, be it swift or long-lasting. She hoped to the Goddess that her comrades would make it out alive, though she knew that at least some of them would die, as was the nature of war. But she'd be damned if she let her Captain or the kid die, never mind that they both eclipsed her prowess in combat by a fair bit.

Setting aside her worries for now, Jana drove the horse on and focussed on her journey back to the company.

14 days later, 17th day of the Lone Moon 1179. Camp of Jeralt's Mercenaries near the town of Tara on the border between Ochs and Nuvelle territory.

It was mid-afternoon when Jeralt was alerted by the lookouts that a rider was approaching the camp from the East. Knowing just who that was likely to be, he told another mercenary to quickly fetch his son and bring him to the command tent. He then walked off towards eastern edge of the camp to wait for the rider to arrive.

As expected, that rider turned out to be Jana, though from the way she looked, it might as well have been the horse that had ridden on her. After a quick greeting, he helped her dismount and held her up as she slumped against him.

"Shit, I really shouldn't have galloped for this long," she groaned out.

Jeralt agreed. "You're right about that. You probably need more refreshers on riding."

Making sure to keep a hold of Jana, he made a quick inspection of the horse he'd loaned her. While it was pretty exhausted, it was not critically so. She might not have been an expert rider, but Jana well knew how to not push a horse too hard. The animal in question would be fine after a few days of rest, mused the mercenary Captain.

When he took a closer look at the woman he was holding, he decided that walking was probably out of the question for now. Saddle sores were serious business and a real bother to boot. Taking the practical approach, he kept a hold of her shoulders and hooked one of his arms under her knees to lift her up. While that would have once drawn an embarrassed squawk from her when she'd been younger and crushing on Jeralt, she well knew that there was no romantic undertone to it.

There was actually a funny story to that, Jana remembered, as he carried her towards the command tent. When the company had still been young, one particular smartass had developed the annoying habit of wolf-whistling at her whenever Jeralt had had to carry her like that. Back then, that had happened pretty frequently due to more intense riding practice and her overzealous training routine of those days. One day, Jeralt had forced the man to carry him like that for ten laps around the camp. In full armour to boot. She still laughed herself sick to that memory to this very day.

Idly noting that somebody, Christine, she believed, had walked up beside them with one of their portable cots, she thought through what she wanted to discuss with her Captain and the kid. Quite a few questions were drifting through her mind. She still didn't really know how she wanted to go about it when they were entering the tent.

Once the cot was set up, she was put down on it. Jeralt thanked Christine and dismissed the woman in short order. While the other woman was leaving, Jana watched as Byleth entered the tent with a canteen and some jerky.

"I heard you had a hard ride so I brought you something to drink and eat," he stated.

Jana smiled warmly. "Thanks, kid. You sure know how to cheer me up, little brother."

Her relationship with Byleth was considered a bit of an oddity by anyone who had joined the company after his fourteenth birthday. All they could really see about him was the Ashen Demon. A reliable but emotionally dead ally who watched out for them during fights and trained them. So very few people noticed that he could be affectionate in his own way, Jana mused. Then again, that might have been because the only people he was genuinely affectionate with were Jeralt and herself. The feeling was mutual, at least. She loved the kid more than anything in the world. She'd basically raised him, after all. Not that Jeralt wasn't doing his part as a father, but since he had always been in charge of the company, he'd had less time for his son than he would have liked, and Jana had filled that gap in the life of a young Byleth.

While she was drinking and eating, both Jeralt and Byleth made sure everyone but them was out of listening range before they sat down on collapsible hunter chairs and waited for her to finish her meal.

Some fifteen minutes later, she was mostly finished and had recovered somewhat from her ride, though her legs would be out of commission for a bit longer. She set down the half-empty canteen and took a few seconds to think of how to begin their discussion.

"There's a lot of things I want to ask, but there are three things that bother me most." she finally said. "First off, who is 'the Younger' who wrote the letter with you? Second, where did you get all that intel? And third, why the Hell did you not tell me earlier?"

Jeralt sighed. "It's a complicated story. To answer your last question first, we didn't tell you earlier because we found out most of that stuff right before we wrote that letter."

That confused Jana greatly. Nobody had entered the camp on that day. Plus, as far as she could remember, the father-son duo had been alone in the command tent for hours. Nobody had approached in that time.

"How?" she asked.

"That ties in with the rest," said Jeralt. "Remember when we left the monastery? I told you that Rhea had this weird obsession with the kid back then. We found out why. I'm trusting you not to spread this around. Some people in the future will need to know, but this is a pretty damn big secret. Understood?"

Jana nodded.

"Good. Long story short, Sitri was… she wasn't born naturally. She was made to contain something, but something went wrong and when she gave birth… her body was failing her."

Jana felt distinctly uncomfortable now. In over twenty years now, he had talked about Sitri maybe once or twice, but her loss seemed to pain him a great deal still. What he said next, though, nearly gave her a heart attack.

"As for Byleth himself, he was stillborn."

How was that possible? "That can't be. He's right here and alive!" she said.

Jeralt went on to explain. "Sitri begged Rhea to do something. She knew that if anything could save him, it was the thing she contained. The thing that gave her life. The heart of the Goddess."

Jana stared. "The heart of the Goddess?"

"I guess we should tell you everything," said the older man.

"You'll probably need me in that case," came a new voice from the side where Byleth was supposed to be.

She snapped her gaze in his direction and saw him wearing a strange helmet with markings intended for intimidation. Before she could focus on much else, the voice spoke again.

"My name is Hyperion. Hyperion the Younger to be precise. I'm sure you're itching for an explanation so let's start."

This was going to be a long day for Jana.

Sometimes, I reflected, life sucked pretty hard. Jana probably knew that piece of wisdom, which was both helpful and utterly useless at the same time right now. While she was now thinking over the things we'd told her, I retreated into Byleth's mindscape and let them have their private moment.

There was quite a bit to reflect on for me as well, as it turned out. Most of it was trivial, of course, such as the changes to the marching order, which was why we hadn't quite followed the route we'd given Jana earlier. The company had never made it to the Brionac Plateau because the bandit extermination and the training had made it less feasible than was acceptable. Naturally, there had been a trail intentionally left for Jana to follow. It was of no big consequence overall, especially since the plan was still on track. To that end, Jeralt would order word to be sent from the nearby town to Baron Ochs that his company was already on the search for Monica and that we were already following a trail.

A bit more important was the progress of the company's training. Inspired by Byleth's success, quite a few had decided to give it a go. Of course, with me not knowing how formulae for regular Dark Magic spells were constructed, Byleth could only give instruction on what little White Magic he could learn with my help. Still, that turned out to be quite a lot. About half a dozen mercenaries had learned the Heal spell and the enhanced variant with the Crest of Chevalier at the middle of the circle. Another spell Byleth was able to pick up and pass on was Ward. Once again, the Crest of Fraldarius played a big role in the strengthening of this spell thanks to the Emperor Arcana's aspect of protection.

The difficulty we encountered in magic was the third spell Byleth had learned, though no others in the company had yet had success with it: Nosferatu. That one was actually very tricky due to its dual nature. Well, unless until one understood the principle behind it was simply about forcibly taking something from the enemy and making it your own, which happened to be vitality in this case. The aspect of Faith was the complicating factor here, but that problem was easy to solve once one remembered that even a merciful God could be angry. In our experimentation, Byleth and I had found three Crests that had an amplifying effect on this spell. First was the Crest of Goneril. Its association with the Wheel of Fortune Arcana, which represented things such as abundance and overabundance, enhanced both the amount of stolen and restored vitality. The second Crest that worked was the Crest of Daphnel, which was the default Crest for casting combat spells. That was actually pretty sensical since it corresponded with the Chariot Arcana, representing war, triumph and vengeance among many other things. The most dangerous enhancement was definitely provided by the Crest of Charon. The Tower Arcana was many things, all of them bad. It was the Arcana of misery, ruin, calamity, adversity, negligence and other such things. Out of caution, I had told Byleth to never use this modification to the Nosferatu spell in spars. With good reason as it had turned out. The first time Byleth had used it on an enemy, the unfortunate bandit had withered away in seconds. It had also put Byleth out of commission for over two hours due to the painful feedback the spell had caused in its mission to spread misery and ruin. The incident had caused more rumours among the mercenaries as well.

Another interesting development had sprung up on my front. Thanks to a fragment left by Prometheus, I knew that the command centre and its data were a joint gift from him and the Elder. However, it contained information neither of them could have known. They were bound to this reality so how could it be that there was a wiki section in the databanks which was almost a picture-perfect copy of a Fire Emblem wiki I had been using before arriving here? I had looked through many files and had found nothing. Well, until I'd said "screw it" and had typed the question into the search bar. Instead of a verbal explanation, I had been redirected to an image file displaying a David Star and a fish. If things continued like this, I would have to brace myself for more pranks from my Adonai.

Next on the list of things to think about was the training's impact on the company. As predicted, the grumbling about the harsher training had died down quickly. The numerous crippling injuries and the three fatalities the mercenaries had suffered had driven the point home. Sometimes, not even Divine Pulse and literal miracles could save everyone's day. The silver lining was that the losses were quickly replaced by eager recruits from Ochs territory.

Guiltily, I was actually kind of glad that this had happened so soon. Byleth had needed to understand early on that sometimes things were out of one's hands. It was a very harsh lesson, but it was my firm opinion that it was better to learn it before any of his future students could die. Losing mercenaries was one thing, for they understood the risks of their profession perfectly. Losing students, children or teenagers entrusted to one's care, was an entirely different thing.

On the topic of miracles, I had gained insight in what had caused Sothis to be so exhausted when she'd aided Byleth in reattaching that hand. As it turned out, she had brute-forced Thaumaturgy through a spell circle made for White Magic. That was like forcing a Dark Magic spell through a Black Magic circle: Likely to go wrong and guaranteed to take up a lot of power. Luckily, I had been able to determine a functioning thaumaturgic magic circle. The symbol of the Philosopher's Stone worked wonders as a base for it. It was also thematically fitting since all magic circles were littered with alchemical symbols.

With the concerns of the past out of the way, it was time to look to the future. Going by Jana's report, the plan seemed to be proceeding within the acceptable range of deviations. In other words, it was more or less going well. Still, Baron Ochs' reactions to the initial news and then to the revelation of the actual plan would be of great importance. And even further down the line was the concern of how to deal with Rhea and Seteth. Then there were the House Leaders, the members of said Houses and their respective homelands. So much hinged on luck. So much could go wrong. But when things were going to go tits-up anyway, there was no excuse not to try to improve the situation.

Now then, since past and future were dealt with, there remained only the present. I would normally have gone over that subject before the future, but there were extenuating circumstances in the form of an awkward conversation.

"Haven't I told you to take better care of yourself? Look! This isn't normal. It's worrying."

Ah yes, Sothis. Honestly, her concern was touching. From an outside perspective, it also looked like it was warranted. I granted her that much. The blue lines had proceeded to spread faster and faster over my body after the helmet's creation. Right now, they ran all across my body and were pulsing something fierce.

"We went over this two weeks ago. It's harmless," I said.

"Harmless?!" If this place had had rafters, her shout would have shaken the dust from them. "You're literally fading away right in front of me!"

In a way, she was right. Once the blue lines had finished spreading, they'd begun pulsing and dissolving my spiritual body. On the outside, it looked incredibly creepy, I had to admit. Of course, the upside to it was that the pain was fading.

"It's part of the process, Sothis," I countered. "The pain's receding as well."

The Goddess didn't relent though. "Your spiritual body, the representation of your identity, is breaking down and you don't even care? You shouldn't be so calm about this!"

I couldn't help but laugh a little. "I'm happy you're so concerned about me," I said. "If I didn't think you'd hit me for it, I'd hug you." I took a second before continuing. "But seriously, don't worry. Since I don't have a body anymore, my spirit's appearance is now more strongly affected by my soul. My soul is undergoing deification and so, my spiritual body is simply changing in accordance. Not that I am particularly attached to my current appearance anyway."

Sothis' face still showed signs of anger, but confusion had replaced most of those now. I knew she was starting to remember the nature of such processes, but she remained perplexed. "Why? Shouldn't it mean more to you?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh please, take a look at me. The last time I liked what my reflection showed me, I was four years old. After that I started bloating like Duke Aegir. This appearance is an unpleasant reminder of my past failures, failures which I don't intend on repeating. Besides, a new look for a new 'life' seems fitting to me."

She seemed really uncomfortable now. I was probably the first person she could remember encountering personally who just didn't care about things people normally cared about. It was one of the things that unsettled me too, from time to time, but it was just rather convenient most often. Her face took on a conflicted look.

"Hyperion," she finally began after a minute's silence, "Have you so little confidence in yourself that you'd let your spiritual self be altered so without protest?"

"Frankly, yes," I countered. "I can't rely on my old self in this new life. I can't be the lazy coward I've been all my life, not when millions of lives hang in the balance. No, I must change myself, and if something just so happens to help me change in the desired way, I'm certainly not rejecting that. After all, isn't it a good thing to wish to improve oneself?"

Her face fell. "That's sad," she said in a low voice.

"Maybe it is," I answered while shrugging. "But that's not important right now. I've wasted enough time on self-pity in my last life. Now is the time for action."

Speaking of action, I turned to my workstation and started going over some files I had started to write concerning thaumaturgic spells I wanted to try and make. Unlike Dark Magic, Thaumaturgy had no representation or even presence in the game, which meant that I had nothing to guide me in the process. Still, if the spell I was working on right now worked as intended, and it should, we would have a tremendous advantage early on. Maybe I could-

I felt two arms wrapping around me from behind, making me stop my contemplations. That was unexpected. "It seems turning over a new leaf is important for you, huh?" I heard Sothis speak. "I thought you were simply spitting in my face with your disregard for my concerns. I'm sorry."

That was… wow. I relaxed a little and turned around again. Her arms didn't let me go and I was happy about that. "You have nothing to apologise for," I told her. Then, tentatively, I put my arms around her as well. None of my friends or family had been there for a hug these past three and a half weeks and it was finally having an impact on me. "Damn it, I've missed this," I whispered.

"See that? I'm not hitting you. That'll show you to make assumptions about me." I could practically feel the teasing grin she wore as she said that.

There were a few seconds of silence before we both burst out laughing, arms still locked around each other.

My mouth assumed the form of a happy smile when we had quieted down. I was sure now that Sothis was well and truly my friend.

4 days later, 21st day of the Lone Moon, Nuvelle territory near the border to Ochs lands.

There was a lot to think about for Monica while she was riding homewards on the same horse as the leader of her small escort. All of them wore disguises, including coifs and helmets. Despite that, they had travelled out of sight as much as they could. Of course, that meant that they would ordinarily not have been able to reach their target destination in time, but the liberal use of Warp spells at the beginning of the journey had reduced travel time.

The plan itself was something Monica could agree with. She simply didn't like the risk involved. They were to head to a bandit camp in former Nuvelle territory, in whose proximity they would be found by Jeralt's mercenaries. Her escorts would pose as former (wo-)men-at-arms in the service of House Ochs willing to join the mercenary company. They were all the right age and had the experience for the ruse to work. Two of them even came from Ochs territory. Yuri was a man of many resources, it seemed.

Naturally, a reason for their presence was needed. Since the news of her abduction, courtesy of a blackmail note sent by "bandits", had long since reached her father, the whole territory was practically up in arms. There were already several independent search parties active, and they were suspiciously organised, Monica thought. With a flash of realisation, she noted that there was a strategy behind it. If her father couldn't field an army to defend his territory, he would simply arm the people and provide training. That also explained why so few towns were seriously hit by bandits more than once. Still, her father could officially order nothing, but he was popular and the people were eager to help their Lord. Conveniently, that meant that their small group had the perfect reason to be there.

Before she could continue that train of thought, a peculiar sound reached her ears. The leader of her escort, a woman by the name of Natalie, motioned for them to halt.

"Odin!" shouted a voice from the woods.

Natalie responded, "Gungnir!"

Out of the trees came a group of six people. They were led by a man clad in black and grey wearing a dark grey helmet. Dragged along were four linen-wrapped packages which looked suspiciously like human bodies. When the newcomers began to unravel the cloths, Monica noted with trepidation that the packages were indeed corpses.

The man with the helmet turned to Natalie and said, "Those were some of their lookouts. We got them about ten minutes ago so they're still fresh. We'll hit the camp in another ten. Make it look like these ones were trying to escape with Lady Monica."

With that, all six of them left, carrying the linen cloths with them back into the woods. Monica stared after them.

"What the Hell was that?" she asked.

A few of her escorts chuckled lightly. "That, young Lady, was our contact," said Natalie.

"I know that!" countered Monica. "But shouldn't this have been a bit more, you know, elaborate?"

The older woman smirked. "Not for a man with a good work ethic. Now get dressed in that Academy Uniform of yours. Make sure it looks torn up randomly or not at all."

Without (much) further protest, Monica began changing as soon as all of the others had turned around. She was grumbling about smartasses though.

Once she was finished, Yuri's agents began arranging the bodies in a manner that made it seem as though they had been ambushed. The way they also went about changing the environment spoke of experience in such matters, much to her silent dismay.

Taking notice of her disquieted look, one of them tried to allay her fears. "We learned this for the turf wars with other gangs, young Lady. We ain't doin' this to anyone who doesn't deserve it."

While it was not that much of a reassuring statement, the fact that was spoken in such a manner was slightly calming for the redhead.

Ere long, the sounds of battle reached their small group. The volume of the clamour indicated that it was a rather big fight. Weapons clashing with armour, shouts, screams and the sounds of parts of the palisade collapsing were all audible for them. It took about half an hour for the noise to die down. The last thing they had been able to hear were the cheers of the victorious side.

About a quarter of an hour later, a small squad of mercenaries and what looked to be the town watch of the town on the other side of the border found them. One of the watchmen recognised Monica and gave a shout of joy.

"Young Lady!" he exclaimed. "I am overjoyed that we have found you. I must comment your companions for dispatching of these ruffians and rescuing you." He then bowed to her escorts. "My deepest gratitude for saving our Lord's daughter. But may I ask, what brings you here?"

Calm as ever, Natalie answered for the whole group. "We heard there was a mercenary band here tearing up all the bandits and we wanted to join. We didn't want them having all the fun without us, and when the news of Lady Monica's abduction spread, we hurried up some more. No bandit is brazen enough to keep Lord Ochs' daughter captive in his own territory, even if there are more than a few of them there. Anyone hoping to ship someone off to Dagda would have to go through Nuvelle lands so we came here as fast as we could."

"I'm glad to hear that so many have come to our aid," the watchman said, accepting the explanation. "Let us escort you to Tara so you can celebrate with us." He turned to Monica again and smiled at her. "Do not worry, Lady Monica. We will immediately send word to your esteemed father that you are safe and sound."

Both Monica and Natalie nodded their consent and followed the mercenaries and watchmen to the rest of the force. Upon looking at the gathered troops, Monica surmised that they must have numbered around four-hundred men and women. About a third of those were mercenaries, most of whom wore the insignia of Jeralt's company. Many cheers rose among the town guards as they recognised her. The small force of troops marched towards the town of Tara in a joyous mood.

Celebrations were extravagant for a measly bandit extermination, but the rescue of their Lord's daughter was cause for more than the usual festivities. The impromptu feast was a bit haphazard, but the people had fun nonetheless. It took hours for the merry masses to eventually calm down and depart for their homes or, in the case of the watchmen, back to their usual posts.

When evening was about to set in, Monica and her escorts made their way to the inn where the higher-ups of Jeralt's mercenaries were staying at while they were in the town. The place was in good order, it seemed, and the innkeeper was happy for the payment. The reputation Jeralt had for unpaid bar tabs did not extend to lodgings, after all. The mood of the people in the building was mellow but still good. She made to ascend the stairs after a quick greeting to the innkeeper so she could finally get some answers. Her tails followed her, of course. They wanted to get the information promised to Yuri.

It did not take longer than a minute to reach the room Sir Jeralt and his son stayed at. She knocked on the door, for politeness was seldom wrong, and waited for the "come in." Once she heard it, she and her companions stepped in.

The room was not very spacious, but it was more than sufficient for two people. The thing that made it cramped was that there were now eight people in it. Jeralt sat at the small table, doing the company's bookkeeping. Beside him stood his son, who had been their contact, Monica noticed. His garb, height and stance were the same.

Finishing with the book in front of him, Jeralt put away the quill and raised his head to look at Monica. "Good evening, young Lady. What can I do for you?"

"Good evening, Sir Jeralt," she answered. "I'd like to know what is going on. In full. I think I have a right to know why Lord Arundel wants me dead and how you found that out."

The old knight grunted. "I can understand that. I'd rather save the full discussion for when your Lord father arrives, but you're right.

If you've read that letter, you know that war's on the horizon. My son had a vision, you could say, and we acted on the chance that it was correct. Turns out that was the case."

Monica looked at him in disbelief. "A vision? You'll pardon me if I doubt that."

"I don't blame you," said Jeralt. "I've been having trouble believing it myself." He then turned his head to look at his son. "Show them, kid."

Byleth nodded and held out his hand, palm upwards. The symbol of an unfamiliar Crest appeared above it. "This is the Crest of Flames. I was granted a gift from the Goddess."

Stunned bewilderment filled Monica and, to a lesser extent, her escorts. The Crest of Flames hadn't been seen in over a thousand years. All that was known was that it was rumoured to be a gift from the Goddess to the King of Liberation before his fall to evil. That lent a small amount of credibility to what Sir Jeralt was telling them.

"In short, we got dangerous information and used it to save a life. Yours to be exact. We'll continue using this information to steer the coming war in the favour of the right side," continued Jeralt. He then directed his gaze at Natalie. "If you want to send off a message to the Savage Mockingbird before Baron Ochs arrives, tell him to expect most trouble to come out of Arundel and Hrym territories as well as the western part of Faerghus. Right below that would be the Dutchy of Aegir and the Western Church headquarters. Count Gloucester is also sure to be a big damn nuisance, though to a lesser degree, hopefully."

Monica's thoughts raced. Hostile forces in all three countries of Fodlan was not good news at all. It sounded extremely dangerous. Now that she'd known that war was coming, she could see some of the signs. The Hrym Revolt, the Insurrection of the Seven, the Tragedy of Duscur, the mysterious deaths of Duke Riegan's heirs, the Rebellion in the Kingdom. If all those things were just the prelude of something much bigger, she shuddered at the thought of it. However, one thing was puzzling her.

"There's something I want to know. Did you find out why they wanted me of all people?" she asked.

This time, it was the Captain's son who answered. "Two things, mostly. Our enemies would have been able to blackmail your father for a promise of your return. Not that that would ever happen if they had you. The second reason for their interest in you was infiltration. 'You' would be found in a few months. Only, it wouldn't be you. Instead, the person found would be one of our enemies using foul magics to wear your skin as their own."

The young Lady looked ill and Yuri's men were only marginally better in that regard. "How is that possible?"

"They've been planning and plotting for about eleven centuries now. That is more than enough time to study the most disgusting abysses of Dark Magic," said the green-haired man. "The theory behind it is rather complicated and I'd like to have an expert on magic on hand before I make any definitive statements."

After a few awkward seconds, Jeralt spoke up again. "Well then, I think it's time you departed for your lodgings, Lady Monica. We wouldn't want the guards to get nervous because they can't find you anywhere. Your companions can stay here. Part of their cover is that they're joining my company, right?"

Everyone opposite of him nodded. "That's right," said Natalie.

"Alright. In that case, I wish you a good night. We're going to talk more once your father arrives," Jeralt concluded.

2 days later, 23rd day of the Lone Moon 1179. Outside the gates of Tara.

Baron Ochs had not had much sleep these last three weeks. He hadn't felt stress like this since his older brother and his wife had gone missing in the raid on the Barony's capital during the war against Dagda and Brigid. The message of his precious daughter's disappearance had been an unwelcome shock to him. He had quickly spread his request to his people to help him search for her. Some search parties had left in the direction of Garreg Mach, others even further east. The braver ones had left northwards into bandit-infested regions. Then, that accursed note had arrived. It had been put on the front gate of his estate in the dead of night.

We have your daughter. Say goodbye to her unless you're willing to pay the price. Give us more than our client from Dagda and you'll get her back mostly unharmed. You should hurry, though. It can take time to amass a million Gulden and some of us can be a bit… handsy.

We'll know when you have what we want.

He'd nearly had a heart attack upon reading the thing. Fear for his daughter's life and her wellbeing had given rise to rage. Somebody had dared to threaten his daughter with the same fate her mother had suffered. Anyone doing that would first get the payment to ensure his daughter's safety. And then… then he'd hunt them to the ends of the earth and execute them in the most gruesome manner possible. Nobody threatened his family and got away with it. Nobody.

However, only two days later, as he had been passing through the market on his way to the barracks, a rather insistent vendor had tried to entice him into buying some of his wooden figurines and given him a sample to look at later. That very same evening, as had needed some form of distraction he had taken that figurine and had noticed a flaw in it. His tracing fingers had eventually made the thing snap open, revealing a small piece of paper with tiny letters on it.

You and your daughter have many enemies. These enemies are also ours. Associates are tracking her. She will be safe soon. Explanation promised on reunion.

The Savage Mockingbird

After that, there had been much confusion and many days of worry. And then, finally, one and a half days ago, a priority message had arrived through Warp spells. His precious Monica had been found and brought to Tara. The restless night that had followed that joyous piece of news had been spent organising a small retinue of his household elite in case there was a ruse going on.

And now, after a day of Warp-Rescue spell chains, he was here, at the gates of Tara. The Baron looked up as the city's lookouts shouted.

"It's Lord Ochs! Our Lord has arrived! Open the gates!"

The gates opened and the portcullis was raised in short order. The town watch cheered lightly before going back to their posts. Two of their number, however, approached him.

"Please follow us, my Lord," one of them said. "We shall escort you to Lady Monica's lodgings."

While walking after the two watchmen, he couldn't help but ask worriedly, "Is she alright?"

"Right as rain, my Lord," came the answer. "She seemed a bit shaken initially, from what my colleagues tell me, but she looked unharmed when she was found."

Relief spread itself through the Baron, though caution still warned him to not relax fully. He could not afford to, not until he held her in his arms.

The procession of two watchmen, one Lord and his two household magicians made its way through the town at a fast pace. Lord Ochs took note of the rather large number of mercenaries within the walls of Tara.

Noticing that something was amiss, the second watchman explained. "The mercenaries helped rescue the young Lady, my Lord. You will no doubt have noticed the heraldry of Sir Jeralt's company. He and his people have been clearing out bandits in the Barony for the better part of the month now. They found out that Lady Monica was being held in a nearby camp that has been a nuisance to us for months now. With their manpower added to ours, we could risk the assault."

The Baron nodded respectfully at that explanation and continued his walk in silence. Soon, the five of them found themselves in front of the mayor's residence in which Monica had supposedly been staying since her rescue. The two watchmen gave Baron Ochs their farewells and left to go back to their stations at the gates.

As he and his retinue passed through the halls, the guards along the corridors hailed their Lord and gave him directions, but made no move to follow. Halfway through the mansion, a very embarrassed servant greeted them, apologised profusely and offered to guide them to the young Lady's quarters. From there on, it did not take long for them to reach said set of rooms. The servant then knocked on the door and opened it to let them through, after which he left.

The Baron stepped through the door and surveyed the room he had entered. Not seeing his daughter anywhere, he called out to her. "Monica?"

There was a noise from an adjacent room. Hurried footsteps could be heard before the door to the main room was yanked open. A young red-haired woman ran through and then stared at him and his companions. It was his daughter.

"Papa! Adrianne! Beatrice!"

She threw herself at her father and clung to him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her to reciprocate the gesture, and nodded at his retainers. The two women embraced Monica as well.

"You can't imagine how happy we are to see you safe, young Mistress," said Beatrice.

"I will have to second that statement," added Baron Ochs with a smile.

The four of them spent a few minutes in comfortable silence, but sadly, they all knew that there was still work to do. There were still questions, after all. And so, the smiles slowly faded as they separated.

Her father's face was serious all of a sudden. "Monica, words cannot express how elated I am that you're unharmed, but I must ask you: What in the name of the Goddess happened?"

Monica knew what her father meant. He had always had a gift for pointed questions that sounded a lot more open-ended. He wanted to know how she had been kidnapped, what she knew about those who'd done it, why it had happened and if some of those responsible were still at large.

"It's… complicated," she began. "The ones who abducted me did so to prevent another abduction from what I understand."

Her father scrunched together his eyebrows. "That doesn't make all that much sense. Are they a danger to you? Do we need to escape?"

Monica shook her head. "No, I don't think so. The night they took me away, they were attacked by another group trying to abduct me. From what the enigmatic informant of my kidnappers said, the second group is involved with Lord Arundel."

The Baron stiffened. Arundel, that accursed wretch who had usurped his rightful Emperor together with his band of traitors, the man who kept trying to weaken his position even further whenever he could. And now, this second-rate excuse of a human being had the audacity to threaten his daughter? There would be revenge, the Baron decided. But before he could do anything, he would have to prepare. Arundel was powerful politically and militarily. Any action had to be planned carefully. First, however, there remained more questions.

"I need to speak with this informant as soon as possible, and with the other parties involved in this fiasco too," he said. It was important to find out what was going on if he was going to act.

Monica nodded. "They want to speak with you too. Sir Jeralt Eisner, who was the one approached by the informant, has asked me to invite you to a discussion. There's also going to be a representative from the Savage Mockingbird. My abduction was conducted by some of his people and another group of them made sure that I arrived here safely."

"Is there a reason for this whole charade?" the Baron asked.

"It had to look like a real kidnapping to the people who observed," the young woman admitted grudgingly. "Arundel's associates were already there observing me, which meant the Savage Mockingbird's people had to make it seem like someone else was abducting me for a 'legitimate' reason." Her face contorted into a grimace and she shivered slightly at the memory. "They chose bandits working for Dagdans as the scapegoats. It was very unpleasant," she whispered. At her father's angry expression, she quickly added, "I wasn't overly hurt, though. Beyond a few punches and a knock-out blow, they didn't lay a hand on me."

While he was incensed that she had been hurt at all, the Baron could understand the cold logic there. Throwing a false trail with a convincing lie, and it was very convincing in this case, was a good way to throw off threats. It was unlikely for Arundel to look deeper into this whole affair.

With that little bit of thinking done, Baron Ochs went back to the matter at hand. "Alright then. Let us talk to these people and find out what exactly is going on."

The walk to the inn was spent mostly with empty chatter and lots of catching-up between Monica and the other three despite the tense atmosphere the previous topic had created. The mundane conversation served to calm the frayed nerves of the Baron and the two attendants.

After about twenty minutes, they had reached their destination. Upon entering the inn, they were directed to a room on the third floor by one of the mercenaries Monica had seen with Jeralt's son on the day of her "rescue." There, they encountered the other four that had been with Byleth. One of them knocked on the door and then opened it so they could step through. As soon as they were through, he closed the door again. The four would apparently be standing guard.

The room itself was rather large, contrasting the personal quarters in which she had last talked to Sir Jeralt and his son. Speaking of which, they were stood near a sort of improvised conference table. Also in attendance were Jana and Natalie.

Jeralt bowed lightly, just enough to not show disrespect, and began talking. "Greetings, Lord Ochs, Lady Monica, and of course also greetings to your companions. I hope you had safe travel coming here."

The Baron inclined his head and responded, "Greetings, Sir Eisner and company. These are my daughter Monica, whom you have met already, and my retainers Adrianne and Beatrice." While speaking, he gestured towards the appropriate people, who bowed as they were introduced. "Would you be so kind as to introduce the people here?"

"Certainly," said Jeralt. "To my right is my son Byleth. To my left is Jana, longest serving member of my company and a former Knight of Seiros in her own right. Further to her left is Natalie, our liaison with the Savage Mockingbird." Once more, people bowed when appropriate. "With that out of the way, let's sit down and discuss things."

As everyone sat down, Baron Ochs took stock of the situation. There appeared to be no signs of hostility, which was good. Everyone had their hands on the table, which meant they'd have to reach for hidden weapons, and magic was inadvisable in tight spaces to say the least. He could conclude that there was likely nothing nefarious going on.

Having finished his train of thought, he opened the discussion. "If it is alright with you, we should dispense with the formalities. Monica has already informed me that you staged her abduction to prevent a real one orchestrated by Lord Arundel. I want to know why and I want to know how you received that information."

Jeralt nodded in agreement. "While there is more we want to discuss at another conference at Garreg Mach as soon as we get there, you're due on explanation on a big chunk of this information. To answer your last question first, our informant got his intel from an unorthodox source. The Goddess is involved. More details on that are going to be disclosed at the Garreg Mach conference."

Byleth held out his hand and helpfully displayed the Crest of Flames and explained it to be such to the Baron. While one could doubt that it was the Crest of Flames, as it hadn't been seen in over a thousand years, Crests were considered gifts of the Goddess to humanity. To show an unknown Crest implied favour with her. The explanation was not entirely credible in Lord Ochs' eyes, but in light of this Crest, it couldn't be outright dismissed either.

A moment later, the old knight continued. "Concerning the reasons for your daughter's abduction, there were two goals behind the action. First, she would give her captors massive leverage over you. From what our informant told us, their plan was to get you to procure a Hero's Relic for them form the black market in Enbarr. The only such items available there are the Vajra Knuckles, a Hero's Relic attuned to the Crest of Chevalier."

That was news to the Baron. He would have to order some subtle investigations into that matter. His thoughts were more or less mirrored by Natalie. Her boss would be very interested in that piece of information.

"As for the other reason," Jeralt went on, "It is far more unpleasant. As we have already told her, the primary goal of your daughter's capture would have been impersonation. Our common enemies have access to magic that allows them to take on the appearance of those they have killed with it. Infiltrating the monastery with their plant acting as Monica would have worked like a charm and would even have disguised her vastly different behaviour as some sort of coping mechanism."

Baron Ochs stared at him intently. "I find that hard to believe. What proof or even evidence of this is there?"

"Good that you ask," answered Jeralt. "We don't have evidence on hand, but it is in Garreg Mach. In matter of fact, there is already an infiltrator in the monastery. He simply has a different role. Lady Monica should have heard his name before. He's Solon. His cover is the Librarian Tomas, a man who went to Ordelia territory for a few years and came back with different behavioural patterns.

And then there's the fact that we know of one other such impersonation. Say, Lord Ochs, is it not strange that nine yeas ago, Lord Arundel suddenly stopped his donations to the Church, changed his behaviour completely and then conspired to have his sister's lover deposed so shortly after his ennoblement? The whole thing seems rather suspect to me. Thing is, he was killed and replaced by a person called Thales, a very powerful user of Dark Magic."

Thinking back on it, Arundel's sudden change of behaviour had been very odd indeed. It was one of the reasons why neither the Emperor nor his loyalists had seen the betrayal coming. If there was truth to this claim, then there was something far bigger afoot than he had previously imagined.

As the cherry on top of that point of their conversation, Jeralt's son spoke up. "Our informant and I are currently working on a spell with the ability to dismantle this kind of disguise. We're making steady progress and I would gladly teach it to you and your daughter once it is finished. If we can cast it on an impersonator, we will have definitive proof of our claims."

"Very well," said the Baron. "If I am to believe you, I must ask how big this conspiracy you are alluding to is."

It was Jeralt's turn to talk again. "From what we got, it's big. The Western Church, most western Houses of the Kingdom and most of the Great Noble Houses of the Empire are part of this. We don't yet know how big Count Gloucester's involvement in all of this is, but we're fairly sure that he's exploiting circumstances our true enemies want him to exploit. If that seems like too much to you, consider that the organisation we are up against is far older than even the Adrestian Empire.

Their goals involve a big war across all of Fodlan to eliminate their remaining enemies. As you can see, they have more than enough resources to start one soon."

Lord Ochs thought over the matter for quite some time before he responded to that. "It seems that there is a lot of work to do in that case. I am not yet convinced, however. I need more evidence. You're heading in the direction of Garreg Mach soon, correct?"

"That's the plan," answered Jeralt.

"Good. In that case, we shall accompany you there. It would be understandable of me to go to the monastery to impress my displeasure at the insufficiency of their security measures on them. We can use this as a cover to set up this conference you were talking about before," came the proposal of the Lord. It seemed that the Baron could be rather devious when he wanted to be.

2 days later, 25th day of the Lone Moon 1179. A few miles east of Tara.

The last two days had been spent preparing for the long journey to Remire village, their rest stop on the way to the Monastery. Supplies, tents and clothes had had to be packed, weapons repaired or replaced and other equipment bought. Then there was also the thing about Baron Ochs having to send instructions to his steward to handle the governance of his territory while he was away.

Right now, they were marching on a road clear of bandits and could, therefore, move at further per day than before. It was necessary since it was important for them to be in Remire on the 20th of the next month. Still, Byleth saw no reason to stop training for the company during that time. It simply had to be restructured. Instead of sparring, he focussed more on strength training using their luggage as weights and on magic. He wanted at least one or two people per team capable of casting Ward.

At the same time, he didn't want to overwork himself and had taken up Hyperion's suggestion of spending part of his evenings in his mindscape perusing the other man's entertainment options. Both he and Sothis were starting to enjoy the films and books available. Interestingly, many of those books also pertained to matters other than entertainment. History, science and other such things were also represented. Nevertheless, research was reserved for daytime so he usually stayed away from those in the evenings.

Speaking of his two headmates, Hyperion's term for their unusual circumstances had stuck there, he had grown to enjoy their company. The squabbling they sometimes engaged in was amusing to behold. As a consequence, he had found himself almost smiling quite a few times. They were also very helpful in his quest to get a better understanding of his emotions. He felt rather pleased about the instances when they had been able to find a name for the jumbled mess of feelings he had. It had been how he had realised that he was not just a cold automaton as he sometimes paradoxically feared, and that what he felt towards his father and Jana was genuine familial love instead of just a vague feeling of affection.

With things on track like this, Byleth could believe that the task in front of them was not insurmountable. He was more certain than ever of who he was, what his abilities were and how he could expand them. His faith in himself and his friends and family had grown substantially as well. And finally, he had found a deeper sense of purpose. If the world was threatened by the darkness, he would oppose it with all his might.

Unaware of how much his thoughts mirrored those of a typical comic book hero, he marched towards an inevitable encounter and after that, a destiny of his own making.

AN:

Well, here it is, my new chapter. A Merry Christmas to you all and once again a big thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed this story.

It has occurred to me that I should explain that the David Star has historically not only been used by Jews but also by Muslims, at least from what I can gather. If any of you play Europa Universalis 4, you will have noticed that the Muslim nation of Karaman prominently displays a David Star on its flag.

As for what Gulden are, they were a type of gold coin used in parts of the Holy Roman Empire during the middle ages. I considered it a bit uninspired to just call Fodlan's currency gold. Gulden may not be much better, but it's at least the name of a currency.

It also seems like Byleth has awoken to a superhero fantasy, something many of us had as kids. Better late than never, I'd say.

As a last bit of story relevant stuff, the lore on House Ochs is a bit weird. On the one hand, it says that the head of House Ochs went missing during the war with Dagda and Brigid, yet the player can encounter him just a few months into the game. With how much he and his retainers care for Monica, I don't think they'd just leave her alone for years. To fix this inconsistency, I put that bit with the current Baron's older brother in there. As a consequence of that fix, the head of House Ochs still went missing, but Monica's father then assumed the title and struck back at the invaders.

Alright then, dear readers. Until next time and happy Holidays!