AN: Guest review response time.

Guest from the 27th of August (and Idea from the 28th): I know that my writing can be vague at time, but I remember making it pretty clear that Byleth's love interest is Edelgard. I'm just waiting for their relationship development until graduation is over.

Your concern about the power scaling is valid, but I have things in the works that should keep things interesting. Parts of your idea have been part of the plan for that for some time too.

Guest from the 28th of August: Good that you're looking forward to it. I've integrated it into my rough outline for the future.

Guest from the 3rd of September:

1: Well, the thing about lore accuracy is its own beast. Three Hopes contradicts Three Houses in quite a few places, mostly minor ones, but it's enough of an indicator that the two alternate timelines aren't exactly the same. It will be a plot point once we hit the Three Hopes arc, and it's got a bit of a surprise in it that explains why the two timelines are so different.

2: Thank you for raising that concern, actually. Fortunately, it will be addressed soon. Either in the next chapter or the one following, there will be major and named enemy presence.

Chapter 39: Shifts

2nd day of the Lone Moon 1180. Northern Kleiman territory.

The big day had arrived. The landing in the south had occurred two days previously with little to no resistance. Now, however, was the time to fight. The combined host of Nuvelle soldiers, Church soldiers affiliated with the Officers Academy, the Golden Deer and Blue Lions as well as the Duscur warriors had marched on the regional "capital" of Kleiman territory.

It was a fortified camp staffed with the majority of Count Kleiman's disproportionately large army rather than a primarily civilian settlement. As such, the defending force was rather significant. Intelligence put them at roughly 9'000 soldiers. As such, he had numerical superiority for the moment, outnumbering the host under Byleth's command by around 2'000. As such, morale in Count Kleiman's camp was high.

As paradoxical as that would have normally appeared, this was part of the young Professor's tactic for this battle. He wanted Count Kleiman to be overconfident, for overconfident opponents were prone to making mistakes. Seeing as the host he'd brought with him was smaller than Count Kleiman's but still a significant portion of the whole army, the traitorous noble would feel compelled to attack. There was no hope of victory against the full army, but if it were to be defeated piecemeal, there was the possibility of Kleiman's victory. It was the smart thing to do. It would also spell utter defeat for the Count.

Originally, a different tactic had been planned, but the Mage Corps' combat division had had to be dispatched in the midst of preparations so they could support of Monica's forces, leaving the army for Operation Double Tap bereft of heavy magic support. As such, the current plan was developed in short order. It was riskier and much harder to pull off than the previously intended massive assault, but there was still a chance to make everything work in the allotted time frame. It did necessitate the revelation of an advantage the higher-ups would have liked to remain secret for longer, sadly. Nevertheless, they were already committed to the attack, and so the new plan had been given the green light.

Before Byleth stood the keys to victory according to it: Claude, Dimitri, Lysithea, Sylvain, Lorenz and Marianne. The latter three bore their Heroes' Relics in their hands, Sylvain having received his from his father before their departure from Garreg Mach. Each of them had an important role to play today.

"Dimitri, Claude, I trust you to not mess this up. No matter how powerful the Relics are, the ones wielding them are mortal. Protect them," said Byleth. "Lorenz, you and Lysithea have both gained the trust of Hamestra, and Marianne has gained that of Seshamil. Sylvain is also coming along well on his end. That gives us two fully powered relics and one more working in good order. Be careful and use them well."

"We will, Professor," they answered.

He carried on, "Claude, I want you to draw the enemy out. You have full command of the Golden Deer. This is your time to show me – and Aisha – what you've learned this past year."

Claude nodded seriously at that, his usual lark absent. "I won't disappoint you," he said.

"Dimitri, your orders are to secure Claude's left flank. Like him, you will also operate autonomously. Show your people that you can lead," continued Byleth.

"Understood, Professor," said the Prince of Faerghus. "But what about you?"

"I will lead the Duscur warriors and my company. Flayn will accompany us. Our goal is to hold Claude's right flank," answered the Professor.

Claude hummed as he heard this. "I take it that Duke Gerth and Constance are going to outflank the opposition, right?" he asked.

Byleth nodded. "Yes. They will wait for the enemy to start enveloping us before falling into their flanks. This will allow us to crush isolated pockets of enemies."

"That's risky," commented Dimitri.

"For anyone but us, it would be, but we have our trump card," replied Byleth. A horn sounded, halting their conversation. The former mercenary listened to its tune before he said, "That's the signal to prepare for the attack. It's earlier than scheduled. Everyone, get to your units!"

Fortunately, the soldiers were already mostly in place. The order to attack had been expected, after all. Therefore, it took little time for the individual units to give the ready signal once their officers had re-joined them. The army then began its slow advance towards the enemy host creeping over the horizon. It appeared that Count Kleiman was eager to give battle.

As the combined host advanced, it assumed formation. The detachment from the Officers Academy took point. The Golden Deer formed a wedge in loose formation. At their flanks and set slightly behind them the Blue Lions and the Duscur warriors formed their own wedges as well. The one formed by the Duscur warriors was in tight formation, however, as they had not trained with Jeralt's team system. Behind them, the Nuvelle troops marched at a distance. They, too, formed wedges at their flanks, though they left their centre in a line formation. In between those two groups, above the gap, flew the pegasus and wyvern riders in overwatch position. By the time the two armies were close enough to engage, everyone was in position.

Claude's heart was pounding as he regarded the situation. He appeared calm outwardly, but he was nervous. It was not so much the fighting that did it – he was used to it, after all – but the prospect of commanding and holding his friends' lives in his hands that sparked a feeling of unease. However, he could not let it dominate his mind. His head needed to be in the game, and his command was needed.

"Charge!" he cried.

As the horns relayed the order, he and his soldiers rushed forward. The Golden Deer followed on his heels, crashing into the enemy counter-charge in wedge-shaped groups of five. Quickly, Count Kleiman's troops rushed into the gaps between teams with the intent of destroying the loose formation. They received a rude awakening as those who had done so were torn to shreds from all sides. The wide gaps between teams became kill zones as each team's designated mages began throwing fire and thunder spells at the bunched-up enemies.

After seeing the bloodbath their comrades had walked into, the Kleiman soldiers were now more hesitant to rush into any gap, causing their momentum to crumble. Instead, it became more about containing the advance of the Golden Deer. Naturally, they, too, lacked the momentum to push on relentlessly. Soon, both sides became bogged down in their clash. There was no movement forward or backwards.

The numerically superior force, however, was not content to merely stop. Complements split off from the main body and moved to flank the Golden Deer. They ran into another hurdle.

The Blue Lions and Duscur warriors quickly charged the flanking groups of Kleiman troops. The former was a larger and more intimidating force, halting the enemy manoeuvre on their side. The Duscur warriors, on the other hand, were a mere 200 men strong. As such, Byleth took up the slack with his blade and powerful magic, slowing the enemy advance to a crawl. As a consequence, the initial flanking forces of Count Kleiman's troops were met with twin storms of death on either side.

That was not to say that there were no complications. The troops from the Officers Academy accumulated exhaustion far faster than their opponents, and Byleth had already had to use Divine Pulse two times by the time the Kleiman troops took their envelopment manoeuvres further. They would not be able to withstand the pressure much longer without resorting to drastic measures.

To their relief came Duke Gerth and his troops. Having long since ordered the flying forces to establish air superiority, he now committed his ground troops. Cavalry swept to the sides in wide arcs as the light and heavy infantry charged forward. The foot quickly clashed with the enemy flanks, cutting off troops that had begun to get behind the Officer Academy's forces from the rest of their comrades. The cavalry then swiftly came back from the sides to destroy the isolated enemy troops.

Up in the skies, the clash quickly went into the Duke's favour. While Faerghus was renowned for their numerous and skilled pegasus riders, Count Kleiman had no access to the animals at this point. Most had been dispatched to Rufus' siege of Fhirdiad, leaving the Count with a token force of barely a company. While Duke Gerth would normally not have access to pegasi and wyverns either, the Church had sent quite a few, and Constance was leading her personal force into battle. The young woman herself, while eccentric and easily depressed in the sunlight, proved herself to be a menace to the Faerghus traitors' flying troops as she launched devastating magic at them.

Once she was finished with her task, she gathered her magical power and launched a Bolting spell she had tweaked personally right into the middle of the enemy's ground troops. The massive bolt of technicolour lightning descended onto the enemy, splitting into several smaller bolts which felled at least half a dozen soldiers each. The resultant thunderclap also signalled the next phase of the plan.

Immediately, several beams of light shot into the sky; pure, shining white from Byleth's position, a baleful red from Sylvain's, and brilliant green from Marianne's and Lorenz's. They lost no time in their assault.

Byleth now donned the Raiment of the First Principle and its powers. Spears of light shot into the enemy formation, exploding upon impact and killing whole companies in the process. Powerful flames augmented with divine power issued forth from his magic circles as he rushed forward relentlessly. He left the carcasses of many enemy soldiers behind him during his controlled rampage.

Sylvain fared less well, though he still made a good showing of himself. The Lance of Ruin was an instrument of death, and he knew how to use it. Its eerie red glow followed its tip as it rent armour asunder. Quick jabs, deflecting sweeps and devastating thrusts soon caused a circle of enemy corpses to form around him. He had no intention of stopping anytime soon either. And so, many of Count Kleiman's soldiers found their end at his hands.

In contrast to his weapon, Marianne's glowed green. She had Seshamil's approval and support and was much more in tune with her Crest's arcanum. Its influence was clear to the girl as a feeling bloodlust rose within her. She controlled herself, however, and directed the feeling at acceptable targets, namely the enemy soldiers before her. She swung Blutgang, and, meeting no resistance, cleaved through soldier after soldier, leaving behind the sight of a gruesome bloodbath one would be hard-pressed to associate with her normally.

Lorenz, for his part, also profited from his connection to Hamestra. He displayed his excellence in point blank casting, causing destruction and mayhem in the enemy ranks. Once none were left before him, however, he handed Thyrsus to Lysithea, who bombarded the enemy with severely augmented Abraxas and Hades Omega spells.

It came as no surprise, then, that the order of battle disintegrated on Count Kleiman's side. Many began to rout at the sight of swift and terrible death before them. The signal for a general retreat sounded shortly after, but it was already too late. The cavalry had been struck down from above and could not cover the retreat anymore, and large parts of the infantry were squashed in between troop complements from the combined army. What was left swiftly fled towards the fortified camp that was supposed to be Count Kleiman's castle.

The airborne troops and cavalry at Duke Gerth's command, however, did not let them retreat in peace. They took up pursuit and rode down many a fleeing soldier. Hundreds met their end like this, until, eventually, the cavalry reached the ostentatiously armoured form of Count Kleiman himself. Like many before, his personal guard found themselves ridden down while the man was struck down by the lance of the leading knight.

Normally, a noble would have been afforded a trial, but Prince Dimitri and Archbishop Rhea had already condemned the man to death for his crimes after a trial in absentia. And so, the Kingdom's most ambitious Count met his ignoble end.

Twenty minutes later. Provisional baths of the army camp.

In a scene reminiscent of the one many months ago, Marianne and Hilda found themselves in the baths once again. The former was caked in the blood of her enemies, which she had extracted from them over the course of the vicious battle. Hilda also had much blood and grime on her, though to a far lesser degree. They both were in dire need of a bath.

Normally, a bathing area would not be present within an army camp due to the logistical troubles of the equipment and the overindulgent use of good water. This was a special case, however, and also restricted to only a few people, namely the Academy's students, who had distinguished themselves in the battle. The area consisted of several tents each with a bathtub and a boiler that had to be powered with the user's magic. Considering that there were not a lot of those tents, some students had decided to share.

Such was the case with the two young women of the Golden Deer House. When Hilda had seen familiar shakes on her friend, she had decided to invite herself along, which brought them both to where they were. It appeared that she would always have to look out for Marianne, not that she minded. She liked spending time with her.

Hilda had already disrobed and had charged the boiler to heat the water. As the water started to heat up, she looked at the other girl. Marianne shook slightly as she looked at the sword strapped to her hip. That was definitely not good. So, heedless of her state of undress and Marianne's bloodied armour, Hilda walked up to her and gently laid a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"Marianne," she said softly.

The light blue-haired young woman shook her head and turned it to look at Hilda. There was something in that gaze the daughter of House Goneril had seen sometimes before, albeit much less intense than now. It sent a jolt through here that she struggled to understand.

"What is it?" asked Marianne.

Hilda answered, "The water's almost ready. You should take off your weapons and armour."

Whatever was in Marianne's gaze grew more pronounced as she slowly nodded and said, "Okay. Do we have anything to wear for after we're done?"

"Of course! I picked it up on the way here," responded Hilda, mildly affronted. Worriedly, she asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"

The strange gleam in the normally shy girl's eyes disappeared at that question. She shook her head. "I… I don't think I am."

Hilda chewed her lip at that. Coming to a decision, she wrapped her arms around Marianne, who had, she noticed, begun to shake again. "It'll be okay," she said. "I'll help you get out of this stuff and then we can talk about it while we bathe. Is that alright with you?"

Marianne nodded slowly. "Yes," she answered.

As she tried to unbuckle her belt, she noticed that her shaking made it practically impossible to do so herself. Hilda had to do it for her. Slipping out of the brigandine and gambeson also proved to be a challenge. The exertion of battle and the sweat that had soaked into the latter made them hard to remove, and she honestly wondered how Hilda had so easily escaped hers. Soon, however, she was freed of both and was able to take off her tunic and underwear herself.

In the meantime, the water had finished heating. While Marianne finished with undressing, Hilda began pouring the water into the tub. She tested the temperature with her foot and pulled back immediately. It was a bit too hot, but that was alright. The two of them could use the time until it was a bit cooler to scrub off the worst of the grime.

They did so with washing cloths they had dipped into the water. Marianne had to change hers two times because of all the blood she had to wash off her skin. Her shakes intensified over time due to the red pieces of cloth, but she calmed down slightly whenever Hilda gently gripped her arm from time to time. Eventually, the were done and slipped into the bathtub.

As they started to wash each other's hair, Hilda noticed that the other girl's shakes were subsiding slightly. She took that as a good sign. The tenseness they had accrued over the course of the day was leaving both of them, and the pink-haired young woman decided that it was time to talk.

"Feeling better?" she asked from behind the other girl. It was her turn to wash Marianne's hair.

Marianne nodded hesitantly. "Yes. I'm not feeling well right now, but you're helping a lot."

Hilda stopped her washing and hugged her friend. "I'm glad," she said. "Do you mind talking about it?"

When the shakes came back, Hilda tightened her arms around the blue-haired girl. The young woman in question stayed silent for a bit, relaxing only slowly. Eventually, however, she did talk.

"I thought I was prepared for it," she said. "We've been in so many battles since Zanado, but it's worse than back then. All the blood, and those screams. And I was enjoying it!"

Seeing how upset her friend was, Hilda tightened her grip further as she spoke, "Shh, it's alright. I have your back."

Marianne's breath hitched. "Why?" she asked, "I'm a monster now."

"You're not a monster," protested Hilda, "You're my friend."

"But I enjoyed it!" choked out Marianne.

Thinking quickly, Hilda shot back a question, "The killing or the fighting?"

That took the wind out of Marianne's sails. Unseen to Hilda, she blinked. "I… I'm not sure," she said.

"But I am," responded Hilda. "I know you. You don't enjoy killing. You enjoy talking to animals, riding on Dorte, having tea with your friend and overcoming challenges you've set for yourself. Defeating a lot of enemy soldiers sounds like a challenge to me."

Marianne turned around in the other girl's embrace, staring at her friend with wide eyes. They held that odd gleam again that Hilda had seen before. Any thoughts on it had to wait, however, as Marianne opened her mouth.

"I-is that really what you think?" she asked.

Hilda nodded. "Totally! You're very kind and often gentle, but you can be very intense when you want to be. I kind of like that, actually, so don't think that anything about it is bad. You're not a bad person. I don't think you have a single malicious bone in your body."

"Hilda," began Marianne. There were unshed tears of gratitude in her eyes, though they were not the only thing to be there. The gleam was at full force now. It was smouldering, passionate, almost animalistic, and Hilda finally recognised what it was. Her friend, however, went on before she could do or say anything, "I love you."

With that, Marianne seized the sides of Hilda's head and kissed her. Hilda froze completely, her eyes as wide as dinner plates and her arms still locked around the girl whose lips were now pressed against hers. Ever so slowly, she reached up with one of her hands and patted Marianne on the shoulder.

The blue-haired girl drew back from her face and stared at her face. "Hilda?" she asked. Spotting the awkward look on the other girl's face, she blinked and paled. "Oh Goddess, what have I done?"

Hilda tightened arms around Marianne before she could do something stupid like running away. "Marianne, please. I'm not angry, just confused. Stay," she pleaded.

Marianne slumped, looked down and quickly averted her eyes in shame once she noticed what was in the water. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly. "I know I shouldn't have done it. My Crest is still acting up, but that's no excuse."

"Marianne, I told you," said Hilda, "I'm. Not. Angry."

"Oh… okay," said Marianne reluctantly. She hesitated for a bit before she asked, "Then why-?"

"I'm not sure I like girls like that," interrupted Hilda.

The shame fled from Marianne's face, only to be replaced by a crestfallen look. "Oh," she said.

Hilda bit her lip. She didn't like seeing Marianne like that. She could elaborate, but it would require giving away some very private information. Looking at the devastated expression on her friend's face, though, made her decide to do it.

"Listen," she began, "It doesn't disgust me, but it also doesn't excite me to think about other girls like that. That said…" She drifted off, battling with herself whether she should continue or not.

Marianne finally looked at her again. "Yes?" she asked in a small voice.

Hilda swallowed drily before she continued, "That said, when I… uhm… daydream about, you know, bedroom activities and stuff, it's always with boys. But every once in a while, when I have a dream like that at night, there's – Goddess, this is so embarrassing to say!" She buried her face in her hands as she spoke, "There's a girl too. And that girl is always the same. It's… it's you. You need to understand, though; it's never just you. There's always a guy too."

When she was finished, Hilda was incredibly embarrassed. She had never told anyone what was going on in her head when it came to that subject, and she was mortified to have done so. She did, however, lift her head again to take in Marianne's reaction.

Said girl had a bright blush on her face. "I see," she said. "So…"

"So, there is a chance," finished Hilda, fighting down her embarrassment. "It's like I said. I'm not sure if I like girls. And if nothing else, I at least wouldn't mind if it's with you. It's… really complicated. I need to figure this out, you understand?"

Marianne nodded slowly and bit her lip. With her mind still a bit fogged over by the battle and the Devil arcanum, she said. "If it only works with a boy… W-well, my adoptive father would like me to marry a man and carry on the family name, and if we find one you like, we could-"

Hilda interrupted her. "Marianne, stop," she said, shaking her head gently. "This is not a decision you can rush. You can't arrange your entire life around my wet dreams!" She sighed. "We both need time to think about this. You deserve all the love and attention in the world. Any relationship that doesn't give you that, no matter how few or many people are in it, is not one you should ever be part of."

A small grimace made its way onto Marianne's face as she went over it in her head. She slumped once more. "You're right, Hilda. I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be," said Hilda. "I love you. I just don't know if I can love you in the way you want. That's not your fault. It isn't anyone's fault. Just… don't be too eager to throw yourself into something you're not prepared for just for a chance."

The other girl once again nodded. "Okay," she said.

Hilda smiled gently. "Now turn around again. I need to finish washing your hair before the water gets cold."

Remembering just why they were where they were, Marianne made a sound of comprehension and complied. "How bad does it look?" she asked.

"Well," began Hilda, "We'll be here a while. Now sit still while I work."

"But what about your-?" began Marianne, turning her head.

"Nope!" interrupted Hilda, "Look forward and sit still. Stay like that. Do that, and maybe we can see if I enjoy kisses from you when I'm not surprised."

"But didn't you-?" This question, too, she didn't get to finish.

"Are you even listening to me?" questioned Hilda, "I said I wasn't sure, and that hasn't changed. We'll have to find out. Now shut up and don't move, and you'll get to find out the fun way."

With a beet-red face, Marianne sat still and didn't move a muscle.

Hilda was far more nervous than she let on as well. She really wasn't too convinced of her own words, but Marianne deserved something nice to cap off the day. She only hoped she wouldn't end up regretting it all. At least she didn't hate the prospect of what she'd promised.

3rd day of the Lone Moon 1180. Command tent of the army camp.

"Phase One of Operation Double Tap is a complete success. Count Kleiman is dead and Duscur free from the Faerghus traitors' grip," said Duke Gerth. "With that, the involvement of the Church of Seiros in the operation is finished."

Many of the students blinked as they heard that statement. This was not what they had expected from the officers' debriefing.

"It is?" asked Dimitri.

The Duke nodded and answered, "Yes. Phase Two will be a collaborative project between the Kingdom and the Empire. The Knights of Seiros are needed further South to assist Baron Ochs and renew his offensive. The Academy's students are furthermore ordered to return to Garreg Mach for the upcoming graduation ceremony."

"Of course, that means that the Blue Lions will all return to the Kingdom in short order, but likely on the eastern front," commented Byleth.

"I see. Thank you for clarifying," said Dimitri.

The young Professor went on, "We will have to hurry and move out tomorrow. I've received reports that Fort Merceus has come under attack. If the situation turns dire, we may even have to leave Baron Ochs to his own devices."

"Aren't there any reserve forces that could be dispatched to either front?" asked Aisha.

Duke Gerth shook his had and answered in Byleth's stead, "We already are the reserves. More troops take time to recruit, outfit and supply. We must also take care not to deprive our economies of too many people lest we collapse before the war's end. The same goes for the Church. They have to juggle every front in this war as they have the only army that is free to move."

The Almyran woman frowned. She was still unused to the way people strategized in Fodlan. In her homeland, it was the norm to gather an army and use it to smash the target, then raise another when another problem reared its head. However, she had to admit, not even during the usual succession disputes were there so many fronts to deal with at once, nor were the foes so entrenched during those spats. Her frown deepened as she thought that Almyra would probably lose an open war against a prepared Fodlan if it ever came down to it because of the oversights that approach brought with it. She would have a lot to talk about with her Kings once she returned to her homeland.

For now, however, she merely asked to confirm her thoughts, "I see. How many troops are even in play at this time?"

Byleth, who knew the answer to this thanks to Hyperion, said, "It fluctuates constantly, but all put together, the combined armed forces of the Church, the Alliance, the Empire and the Kingdom amount to close to 280'000 men and women as of right now. The traitors from Faerghus and the Empire combined with the currently deployed Agarthan troops come in at about 300'000 right now, but it's likely much higher. There is no telling how many Agarthans muck around Shambhala."

"That is quite the substantial force, on either side," she said.

"Indeed," said Byleth. "The point stands that all forces are currently engaged in operations of their own. It makes moving out soon all the more imperative."

Duke Gerth added in agreement, "Which is why we must now assess damages and losses. Do you have the means to take your wounded with you, Sir Eisner?"

"We do," answered the man in question. "Those who can't walk will ride on the wagons. There's enough space for them."

"Excellent," said the Duke. "Losses?"

"The battle cost us nearly a third of our forces. From the Officers Academy, that is," answered Byleth.

The older man grimaced at the thought. The plan had asked for that kind of sacrifice, but it was still a tragic reality. The Academy's forces had played the part of the bait well and paid the price for it.

"Compounded with the losses sustained by the Nuvelle detachment, that brings us to just about 2'000," he said. "Not great, but I don't think we could have gone much lower than that without risking the objective."

"Agreed," said Byleth.

Duke Gerth then turned his head. "Quartermaster, how are the supplies?"

A rather plain woman who appeared to be in her early thirties, answered him, "Everything is within projections. We might be a bit tight on fur coats, but we've got a few tanners with us and some game to hunt, so the problem will solve itself over the coming days. Overall, we're good to set up shop and provide supplies for the leaving troops as well."

"Excellent," said the Duke. "What about morale?" he asked while directing his gaze at Constance, his lieutenant for the battle.

"The troops are in high spirits, as was to be expected when under my illustrious command!" she said with her typical haughty laugh. "The victory has their faith in both our cause and my command."

"Good," he responded with a nod. "They're your household troops after all. It's good that they're comfortable following your orders." He thought for a second before he turned his attention back to Aisha. "Speaking of which, I'm sure Sir Eisner would like to know how Claude fared in command."

Startled at being asked a question for once, the woman hesitated for a moment. Then, she said, "Well, he's not done anything phenomenal, but he's proven himself competent. Maintaining order against an overwhelming opponent is hard. He kept the key players alive and did a good job at… you call it rotating, right?" When she received a nod, she continued, "He did well with that. Nader and His Majesty will at least be appeased with his ability in the field."

"Good to hear," commented Claude.

"That it is," said Byleth. "I'm proud of your progress." He directed his attention towards Duke Gerth and asked, "Is there anything you still need us for? If not, we had best prepare for our departure."

Said man shook his head. "No. Everything else is between my officers and I. Dismissed."

16th day of the Lone Moon 1180, early evening. Northern access route to the Oghma mountains, temporary night camp.

The trip back from Duscur was taking longer than the journey towards it; that much was clear. While they marched at a fast pace, there were no forced marches anymore. They had also spent half a day resting at Baron Ochs' position, where they had rotated the Mage Corps' combat division out in favour of the 2nd Corps of the Knights of Seiros. Thus, the 3rd Corps and the Academy's troops were now accompanied by Professor Hanneman and his troops. It had cost them some time, but that seemed acceptable. They were due to return to Garreg Mach within half a week, right on time for the graduation ceremony.

Much time had been used for conversation over the course of the last twelve days of marching. There seemed to be a slightly awkward atmosphere hanging around Hilda and Marianne during that time, though they seemed as close as ever. Claude was often engaged in talks with Aisha when he wasn't making the rounds among the other Golden Deer. Leonie spent nearly every waking moment as close to Jeralt as she could. Lorenz was often seen discussing various topics with Ignatz, who, in turn, spent most of his time around Raphael. The blonde bear of a man was routinely busy talking Lysithea's ears full and causing no small amounts of fond irritation for her. And finally, Flayn quite enjoyed going from person to person and striking up conversations when she was not with the healers.

This brought he to where she was at the moment. She stood beside Byleth and watched with fascination as his squire Lars trained swordsmanship with Lysithea. Although she had heard much about it, it was still hard to grasp for the Nabatean just how good the white-haired girl had become at it. That such a frail body could still command such skill and force with a melee weapon was awe-inspiring. It kind of made her want to join in.

"Professor?" she asked.

Byleth looked at her. "Yes?"

"Would you be willing to teach me how to fight with a sword? Seeing Lysithea swinging her blade like that despite her weak body is quite inspiring," she said.

Byleth hummed noncommittally as he thought it over. In the end, he answered, "I can see you work more with a spear. You have already trained some muscle groups necessary for it with your Caduceus staff. Beginning with a sword now would waste that effort."

"Oh," said Flayn, somewhat dejected.

"If you really do want to train in swordsmanship, you should ask Grandmother to teach you sword dancing," added Byleth. "She would know better how to train Nabateans than I do."

Flayn blinked. She hadn't considered that. "That makes sense. Thank you, Professor."

"You're welcome," responded the young man. "On another note, I've been meaning to ask you something. How are you getting along with everyone?"

The green-haired woman was surprised at the question, and it showed on her face. "Oh my, I did not know you were so interested in my personal life," she said with a slight laugh.

"You know that's not what I meant," said Byleth drily.

Flayn laughed again. "I know, Professor," she said, "But it was such a silly question to ask, so I could not help myself. To answer your question, everyone has been very nice to me. Your students and the Duscur warriors in particular have shown me great kindness."

"That's good to hear," said Byleth. "I'm glad that you're forging bonds."

"So am I. It has been hard to adapt to this new age. Everyone I once knew is long gone, except for Father and Seiros. Being accepted so readily by so many people has eased the pain of loss. I did not expect to find joy in living again so soon after my awakening," she responded wistfully.

Byleth thought that statement over. He had realised some time ago that her situation was familiar to him, considering that he had seen it in one of his headmates before. There was a lot of overlap in the two cases despite the obvious differences. As such, he knew that finding new friends was important in the process of overcoming the loss of old ones. It was good, then, that Flayn seemed to make good headway on this front.

"Every end is the beginning of something new, and every beginning is the end of something old," he said. "Cherish what was good about the past and treasure what is good in the present. And remember, no parting is forever."

That proverb had been stuck in his head for some time now. It had come time one day when he had thought about one of Sothis' names: the Beginning. She was a Goddess of Life and Death, both of which were the beginnings of certain phases of a person's existence. He had, however, also realised that his other headmate, Hyperion, could be called the End. His realms were where people ended up going after dying. Some stayed forever; others went through the river Lethe and found a new beginning. Thus, Byleth had realised, beginning and end were part of a greater whole, something that had neither beginning nor end: eternity.

"I appreciate those words. They were very deep. I did not think you were one for philosophy," commented Flayn.

"Most people don't. I'm full of surprises," said Byleth.

Flayn giggled, "Humour too, apparently." A small smile made its way onto her face. "Thank you for trying to cheer me up, although I fear it was wasted. I am not in a particularly sullen mood."

"It seems that way, but I don't think those words were wasted," said Byleth.

The Nabatean hummed as she thought them over. "You are right," she said. "Knowing that those who are gone from the mortal coil can be met again gives me comfort. No parting is forever, indeed."

A smile tugged at Byleth's lips. He said, "Good. I like seeing family happy, even if we're only distantly related."

Flayn blinked at him, then beamed. "I do not think I shall disagree," she said.

The conversation petered out from there, and soon, it was time for dinner, then bed. Everyone needed their rest. They would be packing up at first light and march again right after.

17th day of the Lone Moon 1180. Sothis' prayer space.

It had taken far more time and effort than she'd ever admit, but she'd finally managed to teach Hyperion essence division, an essential skill for major Gods. He was now able to "split" his consciousness up into several instances of himself and respond to multiple prayers simultaneously. This had allowed her to take one of these instances and drag it with her into her prayer space, where she already had someone waiting for her.

Her two quests looked at each other in surprise.

"I expected this, but I'm still surprised," said Hyperion. "It's finally time, then, huh?"

"Time?" asked Seiros, "Time for what?"

"Time for you to resolve this petty feud between the two of you," said Sothis. "I tire of seeing people I love at odds with each other. So, none of us will leave here until that dispute is a thing of the past."

The disgruntled look on her daughter's face was quite adorable, but she refrained from expressing such thoughts. She was more interested in the response.

"Mother, is this really necessary?" asked Seiros uncomfortably.

Sothis looked her in the eyes and said, "I hoped that you would set aside your differences, but that clearly isn't the case!"

Seiros shrank under her mother's stern gaze. "It's not that easy, Mother," she said.

"I am very much aware, my little light," said the Goddess softly, "But I can't bear watching this for much longer. Now, can you tell me – tell us – what exactly your problem with Hyperion is."

"If it's something I can fix, I'll do my best to fix it," he interjected.

Seiros shot him an annoyed look. "Be silent!" she hissed. "Tolerating you in public is one thing, and I admit that you have made genuine attempts to ingratiate yourself to me, but I cannot take the patronising attitude you take with me."

He did as she'd asked. A dejected expression briefly passed his face, but it quickly settled in its resting position. It was quite apparent to Sothis that the figurative cogs in his head were spinning at high speeds, trying to process Seiros' statement.

"I see. That's the root of the problem, then," said Sothis.

She was forced to admit that Seiros did have a point. Hyperion was often so eager to share his ideas, building plans upon plans with his own thoughts as basis, that he appeared as patronising or arrogant to others. Of course, she knew that it was entirely unintentional, but apart from her, Byleth and Hyperion's clergy, none on the mortal plain knew him well enough to understand that.

"Yes," answered Seiros curtly.

"Please elaborate," said Sothis. "Be thorough. I want to know the how and why of your assessment of him."

Gladdened by the lack of condemnation, Seiros did so, "I dislike how forward he is. His proposals usually run roughshod over everything I have built for a millennium; his apologies are worthless on that front. He rarely listens to anyone if at all and holds his admittedly superior information over everyone's heads. Listening to him speak as though he knows best disgusts me. And then he has the gall to play friendly with me as he inserts himself into our family without so much as a by-your-leave, believing we should be thankful for it!"

"Seiros, it's not-" began Sothis.

"I want him gone, Mother," interrupted Seiros.

Next to them, Hyperion flinched, but he refused to speak. He was tense, both in body and in mind, Sothis realised. He was clamming up hard. It was one of his coping mechanisms for times when he was confronted with hostility he felt himself unable to counter. Better to say nothing and simply bear with it rather than respond or comment and make it worse.

Damn it, she cursed internally. They had really underestimated the depths of Seiros' feelings on the matter, and if she didn't do something really quickly, this would end in tears. Or worse, she added in her thoughts.

"If it's a choice between him and you, I'll choose you every time, Seiros," she said in a forcefully calmed tone. "But-"

Seiros smiled, "Then you will leave him?"

Another flinch came from Hyperion. He was aware of the fact that the love Sothis held for her was greater than the one she held for him, had been aware of it for a long time too. That didn't mean he was taking it well. Seiros had interrupted her mother at the worst possible time as well. The silent godling's overactive imagination was probably already spinning the worst-case scenario and coming to the wrong conclusion. It frayed at Sothis' nerves.

"Let me finish!" she yelled, finally losing her temper.

The smile vanished from her daughter's face as she recoiled. Seiros had not been expecting the outburst. Neither had she expected to be levelled with a stern glare of all things.

"Seiros, do you hate me?" asked Sothis.

"What? No! I would never!" denied Seiros vehemently. How could her mother think that?

The glare did not lessen in its intensity as the Goddess countered, "Then why do you want me to abandon a man I love, a man who, in turn, loves me, makes me happy and warms my heart with his mere presence?"

"You are blind to his faults," said Seiros with an angry frown.

"You mean like I'm blind to yours? The experiments, the lies, the entire religious dogma you've built in my name?" replied her mother.

This time, it was Seiros' turn to flinch. "Mother, I-"

"No!" interrupted Sothis. "I'm blind to neither his faults nor yours, but I've chosen to love both of you despite them. If anyone here is blind to each other, it's you and him, but he at least knows it! Are you just willingly closing your eyes?"

Seiros shrunk in on herself. She hadn't been scolded like that since her early teens. It had not been a pleasant experience, and this one was shaping up to be even worse. It was true that she didn't really understand Hyperion's character well, but what she usually saw tended to rub her the wrong way. Had she refused to look beneath the surface? She didn't know.

"I… I'm not sure," she eventually said.

Sothis sighed, and her looks softened somewhat. "Then find out. Find out why I love him," she said. "After you've apologised, that is."

"Apologised?" asked Seiros.

"Have you already forgotten who is beside you and what you've said about him?" asked Sothis back, pointing at Hyperion. "I do not begrudge you your grievances with him, but what you've said was hurtful."

Seiros swallowed hard. "I…"

"It's alright," said Hyperion, still tense but less so than before. "I've given up on trying to figure out why people think what they think about me years ago. I just take it the way it is. You don't like me, and you're entitled to that opinion. Besides, I usually take what is said about me in the worst way and spend my day being melodramatic about it, but I usually come to my senses at some point. So, only apologise if you actually want to."

"No, it's not alright!" said Sothis. "Hyperion, for once in your life, stand up for yourself! Don't pretend that what Seiros said, what I said, didn't hurt you."

He sighed. "Yes, it hurt me, quite a lot in fact, but forcing her to apologise won't change that," he said. "And you know that I suck at confronting my problems or anyone causing them."

"Argh!" she cried out in frustration.

She was on the verge of tears. Why were they so stubborn about this? Was it too much to ask for the people she loved to get along? She slumped in her throne, a sad look on her face as she thought about it. Was she really forced to choose? It would break Hyperion's heart, and hers as well. She only wanted for her family to be whole.

"I… apologise for the harshness of my words," Seiros finally said after a long minute of awkward silence.

"Apology accepted," responded Hyperion swiftly.

Seiros frowned in thought. She despised seeing her mother in such distress, so she had taken the step to apologise. Hyperion had likely accepted her apology so quickly because he felt similarly. It chafed at her to know that he meant so much to her mother, but if Sothis truly loved him, there had to be a reason. Reluctantly, for her mother's sake, she would try and get to know Hyperion better.

With more effort than she would have liked to admit, she said, "I will contact you more from now on to… talk and maybe discover what Mother sees in you."

"I think that's a good idea, Seiros," commented Sothis, now sitting a bit straighter again. She looked to be a bit calmer too. "What do you think, Hyperion?"

"Well, I've got nothing against it, and if it solves our interpersonal problems, I'm all for it," he said in response.

Sothis clapped her hands together and said, "Wonderful! It seems we're making progress. Admittedly, we're not where I had hoped we'd be, but we probably won't get any further tonight."

She stood up from her throne and approached her daughter and her beloved. "I think I've kept you two long enough for tonight, though we will have a repeat of this, so you'd better learn to get along soon."

She wrapped her arms around Seiros, pulled her head down and planted two kisses above her eyebrows, one of Seiros' favourite spots when she'd been a child. After she let go, she went to Hyperion, embraced him as well and placed a kiss on his lips.

"I'll see both of you later," she said.

Then, the prayer space faded, and their meeting ended.

AN: Hello there, my dear readers!

As usual, I hope you all enjoyed this newest chapter of Headmates. A few questions might have propped up, so I'd like to address a few of those for clarification:

Operation Double Tap: As the name implies, is far from over. Consider its conclusion a surprise reserved for one of the future chapters.

Hilda and Marianne: I remember that over a year ago, I had a conversation with a reviewer who expressed their reasonable concern that those two tend to end up together in so many stories just because, not because they've had genuine development. I have therefore decided to add some complexity to their situation. That is not to be confused with unnecessary drama, however. There will be a conclusion one way or the other relatively soon. I have not yet decided in which direction it's going to go.
Speaking of Marianne and her behaviour, recall that the Crest of Maurice corresponds to the Devil arcanum. Violence and sexuality are a big part of that. That is not to say that I'm writing her to be a huge sado-masochistic slut, since that would be a great tonal shift and an insult to her character besides, but that she has trouble containing her urges for either when she's immersed in its power.

Do not hesitate to ask if you've got more questions.

Now then, all that said, I would like to thank every single one of you who have read my story so far. This chapter marks the 2-year anniversary of Headmates, and I'm incredibly proud that so many of you have chosen to follow and favourite this story, and that you've left quite a bunch of reviews through it all.

Finally, then, this chapter's recommended story is Overlord by otblock57, in which Harry Potter accidentally becomes a world-famous and universally feared dark lord without having a single clue it's happening at all. It's honestly an extremely fun read, and definitely worth looking into.

It's time to say farewell for now. Until next chapter, dear readers. Stay happy and healthy, everyone!