AN: Guest review response time:

Guest from the 24th of May: I get what you mean. I don't really know if I want to develop it further, but I at least didn't want to step into the pitfall of many authors that the only same sex relationships in their works are between women. There are men like Yuri, Linhardt, Jeritza and Byleth who like both men and women.

Compatibility wise, those two aren't the worst. Both of them are not strangers to violence and shady dealings, both of them love their remaining family deeply, etc. But again, I'm really not sure how far I want to go there, especially since I've got a few romance subplots already going on. It might be a bit too much to step into uncharted territory there.

As for the translation differences, yes, they are way too big in some instances. Mercedes and Sylvain come to mind. That support is a lot more impactful in a more faithful translation.

Thank you for your feedback.

Chapter 54: Truths

Sothis and I were not quite happy about recent developments. Both of us had noticed that while we perfectly understood prayers sent to us, our responses were incomprehensible to the other party. Miming had helped a little, but even then, our ability to clearly communicate with our followers was greatly impaired. The distressing news of recent events in our home timeline made that even worse. We were worried about the course of the war and the horrific news from Shambhala, including Kronya's poor state of health. It was all quite depressing.

To distract ourselves from this, we started tackling serious situations in this timeline as well. There were a lot of deficiencies we could spot right away. The Knights of Seiros were far more tense than they should have been, for one. There was less chatter among the students than we expect due to the tense atmosphere. And then there were more immediate problems to tackle.

This included, among other things, education. Specifically, we made sure to correct a grave oversight of this world's Jeralt while also mortifying everyone present with the one conversation every parent feared for some inexplicable reason: We gave Byleth The Talk and made it everyone's problem. It was hilarious to see a grown woman like this world's Byleth listen to everything so attentively while all around her, the faces of everyone else contorted in a grimace. It was decidedly less funny once one thought about the potential for abuse inherent to such naïveté. Interestingly, that neon-purple haired mercenary kid also paid attention, as well as some of the students. Personally, I guessed that spending one's teenage years around mercenaries or prudish nobles did not give one accurate information on the topic.

Another thing we hurried to teach everyone was the waste disposal spell. As it turned out, it had not been invented in this version of Fodlan. So, to spare everyone the worst part of latrine duty, we taught the spell to everyone in reach. It earned us some goodwill but also curious stares.

At other times, we spent time sneaking around the marching column and spooking the knights. While that earned us a lot of angry stares, it also led to Alois giving his subordinates a lecture on vigilance. Elite knights had no business being surprised by the presence of others this often. My beloved and I simply cackled as we carried on with terrorising the poor fellows.

Over time, we socialised some more with everyone. They became more comfortable with us, at least when they were not annoyed, and included us more in their conversations. This eventually resulted in a talk with Petra.

"The others say you have use of purple fire. May I see it?" she asked.

I responded, "You want to see if it's Brigidian curse fire, yes? Have a look."

A miniaturised magic circle appeared above me palm, and a small purple flame erupted from it. It went out a few seconds later. Petra's expression became excited when she saw it.

"I was having doubt of the rumours," she said.

"If I may ask," interjected Linhardt, "Why do you use that spell instead of normal fire? This fire is cursed and is much more dangerous."

I shook my head and answered, "Not more dangerous, no. It's more lethal. Death by fire is one of the most horrible and painful ways to die, barring extreme torture. Since I have a nearly unmatched affinity for fire and for Dark Magic, I sought to combine the two in a bid to increase lethality. Brigidian curse fire is that combination. It kills very fast, thus minimising the suffering of its victims. I may be ready to kill my opponents, but I don't take joy in other people's suffering, not even my enemies'."

That resulted in a thoughtful frown from Linhardt and a satisfied nod from Petra. It seemed that my answer was acceptable to her.

With the cap put on that conversation, nothing of interest happened for the next few hours. We then camped, slept or – in case of my beloved and I – spent some quality time together before bed, and then broke camp again in the morning. This pattern repeated itself a few times.

Our march came to an end eventually. After a few days of travel, we had finally arrived at the monastery. The relieved sighs of the Knights of Seiros in our company were a source of chuckles for us, but we refrained from giving them any more lessons in alertness.

"Never thought I'd see the day when someone could run so many people through a wringer just by talking and walking. Standards must have fallen a bit since I left the Knights of Seiros," said Jeralt.

Sothis laughed and said, "I'm surprised as well. This is the first time I have engaged in this kind of practical joke. My own brand usually relies on other mischief. My soon-to-be husband is a better teacher at this than I had anticipated before we began."

I chuckled at her words. "I'll take that as a compliment. I've been an annoying little shit since I was a kid, and I've learned to weaponise that."

"I still don't understand why they're upset," said Byleth. "You've helped them train."

Her head was tilted again. I had come to understand that she did so when she was confused, intrigued or did not understand something. In that sense, she was different from the Byleth in our home timeline, who used subtle stares to convey the same. It meant that this world's Byleth was a bit easier to read, but I did not mind.

I told her, "You, my friend, have the patience of a saint and the curiosity of a child, though with better impulse control. You're also attentive and not easily bothered from what I've observed. Others are not like that. They're upset because we've embarrassed them."

"We have done other things too," chimed in Sothis. "We challenged their established worldviews and gave them uncomfortable questions about the integrity of the Church. It riled them up something fierce and made them all the more distractable."

"Alright," said Byleth, straightening her neck again.

It seemed like the young woman wanted to ask some of those questions herself, but her mouth closed again right after opening. Maybe her Sothis held her back from that or explained things so she would not have to ask in the first place.

Before long, we reached the Monastery Town and then the monastery proper. Conversation had petered out on the way there and stilled completely once we had made it to the marketplace. We looked up to the balcony of the Archbishop's quarters, where the local Rhea was looking down at us. She had expected our arrival.

Alois then pulled Jeralt, Byleth, Shez, Sothis and me aside. He said, "The Archbishop is expecting you. You shouldn't leave Her Grace waiting."

"That's not gracious at all, is it?" I joked.

The poorly suppressed snort from Alois and the look of exasperated Fondness on Sothis' face were balm for my soul. I was not one to let the opportunity for a good pun slip.

"Not you too," groaned Jeralt.

Byleth titled her head again, though there was a slight tug at the corner of her lips.

Shez just gave me an amused stare.

"As amusing as this is," said Sothis, "We had best get going."

I put a hand on her head and patted it. "Now, now, my dear, let's not be hasty."

"Unless you want to give everyone a show, I suggest you remove that hand," she shot back with a challenging glint in her eyes.

Heeding that advice, I pulled my hand back. "Alright, alright. Spoilsport."

"Oh for the love of-" Jeralt began before he cut himself off and sighed. "Let's just go."

We laughed at the man. At least in that aspect he was very much like the Jeralt we knew.

Deciding to spare the man further conniptions, we acquiesced to his request.

The five of us subsequently made our way up the stairs of the Monastery. It was not all that exciting or new since the place was pretty much exactly the same as the Garreg Mach as the one I already knew. Thus, we arrived quickly at our destination, the audience chamber.

When we stepped in, we were greeted by its occupants. Or that was how they had probably planned it before they took a proper look at Sothis.

Rhea began with, "Greet-" only to freeze. She stood there, gaping like a fish as she beheld the woman I loved.

"M-mother?" she stammered out.

Sothis shook her head. "Not quite. We're closely related, however. You could say I'm your mother's sister. It is not entirely correct, but probably the closest thing to it."

She released her wings from her back and continued, "But it is good to see kin. We're here to help you solve a few problems while solving one of our own."

I also released my wings, much to the shock of everyone around me. They had not seen me do this before, after all. They had likely thought that at least I was human.

"Among other things, we're here to help get rid of the rats in the walls. You've got a bit of an infestation going on in the Monastery," I said.

"What?" said the Archbishop weakly. "I think I am not feeling all too well."

If Seteth had not caught her, she would have fallen over. As it was, she sunk to her knees, which gave the guards a renewed shock.

"And that's why I didn't bet anything. This reaction was way too predictable," Sothis told me. "Now help me wake her up. You too, Byleth."

"That… is not necessary," said Rhea.

She stood up again with Seteth's help, though she remained unsteady and off-kilter. She did her best to rebalance herself mentally and physically.

"What is going on?" she eventually asked in disbelief as she stared at Sothis.

"In order," I answered instead, "There's some wibbly-wobble timey-wimey nonsense going on, we restored your mother's memories, we're here on an assignment to get rid of the dick who's about to ruin the world, and we don't give a shit about secrecy or subtlety because we need to go home as soon as we can and help our friends and subordinates not die in a war. We'll fill you in on the details as we go."

"Would it kill you to be more diplomatic?" griped Sothis.

"It wouldn't," I said, "But even I get tired of explaining everything repeatedly."

"Well, too bad. I want an explanation, in full," said Shez. "I don't know what's going on and I don't like it."

"Fine. Might I suggest someone fetches Tomas the librarian? He should be present for these talks," I said.

Sothis nodded and added, "Yes. He will be very useful. Do not mention any details, however, just that he is being summoned to the audience chamber at the request of a guest."

The knights looked at Rhea, who gave them a nod. She was still shaken, however.

"I never knew Mother had a sister. You look remarkably similar to her," she said unsteadily.

There was a weak smile on Sothis face as she replied, "And you look remarkably similar to my youngest daughter. But again, sister is not quite the correct term for the relation between your mother and I."

"It would make for a wonderful case study in ontology," I remarked, which earned me a gentle shove from Sothis.

"Hush, you. I'm having a conversation here," she said.

"I know," I replied, "But the audience here needs some entertainment until we can actually proceed with the meeting."

It was at this point that one of the knights who had left returned with Tomas in tow. The man looked very curious as he entered, though he briefly stopped when he saw Shez. It appeared that the kid was an unexpected variable for him too.

"Ah, your timing is impeccable," I said with a smile.

Immediately, I cast magic to lock down on teleportation. Sothis double-layered it with her own space-time lock. Next, my hand snapped out and grabbed 'Tomas' by the head while I cast a minimum-range version of the Reveal spell, causing the disguise to fail. Before the newly revealed Solon could react, I channelled my soul-based powers through the hand on Solon's head and disrupted his magic with a divinely powered variant of the Silence spell. He was trapped.

"It would seem that our practice has paid off," said Sothis.

"It has, my dear," I concurred.

"What the Hell?!" exclaimed Jeralt.

The others in the room reacted quickly. The knights brandished their weapons, as did Byleth and Shez. Rhea's eyes hardened and she assumed a boxing stance. Seteth meanwhile stepped back warily and looked around, probably for a weapon or something of the like. The sudden appearance of an Agarthan would never not startle a Nabatean, it seemed.

"Shez, Byleth, it's study time," I said. "Here we see an example of a full-blooded Agarthan. Note the pale skin and the funky eyes. Those are common in some of the highest echelons of leadership. The other modifications like the big head are optional. As you can see, Agarthan hair is sometimes snow white, regardless of age, though it's often either neon or matte in colour. Also note the obvious sign of advanced technology in the cane and the gloves."

Amusingly, Byleth had taken out a small notebook to write down what I was saying. Shez was also listening with rapt attention.

"It is due to the difference in skin tone that I've pegged you as a half-Agarthan, Shez. Their complexion is hereditary as a result of living underground for at least twelve centuries, probably a lot more. Walking around in the sun for a bit wouldn't result in your skin tone," I continued my explanation.

Sothis then cut in and went on, "On the whole, Agarthan society is led by a conglomerate of totalitarian rulers who rule through oppression and fear. It is possible that your Agarthan parent fled their city of Shambhala and lived long enough to cause your birth. It's happened before."

"This man here, however," I said while pointing at the silenced and scowling form of Solon, "Is a member of their leadership. They have the pretentious habit of naming themselves after the Sages of Greece. This particular individual has appropriated the name of Solon. He's been in charge of quite a few operations and experiments, at least one of which victimised a student of this esteemed academy."

"Huh?" asked Shez. "Who?"

"People don't just exhibit the traits of two types of dragon blood," I said.

"Don't be so obtuse," chided Sothis. "It's Lysithea. She was the only survivor of the experiments under Solon's guidance. The experiments were later repeated by another Agarthan on another set of victims."

I took the word again, "The common results of having two types of dragon blood exhibit their traits in one's body are a shortened lifespan and the loss of pigment in the hair. To spare you the effort of deducing this yourselves, the other victim is Edelgard."

That was not the end of my lecture either. "On the topic of experiments and their victims, note the taint of necrotic energy around the man; much more pronounced than on you, Shez. It is the side effect of performing necromantic magic, whereas the residue sticking to you is probably only the byproduct of you being in a place saturated with necrotic energy when you were very young. Now, you might ask yourself what sort of necromancy was performed for our guest here to reek of it. The answer to that is, in essence, very simple: Impersonation."

"The real Tomas is dead," added Sothis. "He was killed and his appearance transferred to Solon here. That ritual is the Agarthan's most potent infiltration tool. There are many such impersonators around Fodlan."

"And you get the prime opportunity to interrogate one of them," I said with a sinister smile. I looked at Solon, and apparently, I managed to unnerve him. "You'll tell us your secrets, won't you?"

Several days later. Secret fortress.

Solon had ended up blabbing. He had not had much of a choice there, really. While somewhat crude, Hyperion's powers could force someone to answer, and he could determine if it was a lie or not. Sadly, it did not come close to the abilities of Sothis' sword Fragarach, which could not just compel answers but the truth itself. Unfortunately, Sothis did not have the sword Manannan had gifted her on her person, and so they had had to resort to other methods. In the end, they had managed to get some actionable intel.

Said intel had led them to where they were now. Before them stood a fortress that was not marked on any known map of Fodlan. According to Solon's information, it was one of several locations across Fodlan which was used to imprison candidates for impersonation. This particular fortress housed Monica von Ochs. Knowing that time was short, they had hurried to this place with what small forces they could gather on such short notice.

The students of the Academy and their Professors were on that list, as well as a company of Knights of Seiros and Jeralt's mercenaries. Shez was also there, as were Seteth and Rhea.

It's good to call them that here. They're not my Seiros and Cichol, thought Sothis, They're my counterpart's.

She shook her head as they drew nearer to the fortress' entrance. Now was not the time for these thoughts. There was an innocent girl to rescue.

"Could you lay off?" asked Shez, taking her out of her thoughts.

He appeared very uncomfortable. It was hard to blame him, considering that the Archbishop was almost literally breathing down his neck, but it was also understandable. Agarthans, full-blooded or not, made Nabateans uncomfortable by default.

Rhea said as much. "I cannot. Your people have hurt mine. I must ascertain whether or not you follow in their footsteps," she insisted.

She had not been happy at all to have her non-human heritage outed, Sothis surmised, but delicacy had no place in expediency. As much as Sothis would have preferred to let the surviving Nabateans of this Fodlan peacefully integrate with the human population, it would have taken a very long time to do so. Sothis and her dear Hyperion still had obligations in their own timeline. The foundations of the Church of Seiros in this world were the unfortunate victim of the haste with which they moved.

At least Sothis' counterpart in this world had agreed with that stance as well. "No time for pretty idealism when hash reality forces our hand. I want Shambhala neutralised as fast as possible. We can't play at politics in times of war, and this is war; no matter the wishful thinking of pacifists," she had said.

I'm glad I didn't end up as belligerent as my counterpart, thought Sothis as she reflected on this. Speaking of belligerence…

"There's a lot of hurt on all sides. My… sister has hurt the Agarthans deeply. Sure, it was their fault for being the aggressors, but pain is beyond rationale. Evil must be punished, but even if a significant part of the Agarthan population supports their government, you cannot paint them all with the same brush. Besides, this child did not grow up in their culture. One's ancestors do not define one's moral alignment or integrity," she said.

It had taken more time for her to get this than she would have liked. It had been the Agarthan defectors Hyperion had collected that had informed her decision to truly commit to reconciliation with Agartha in her own world instead of a simple peace treaty. Somehow, though, she got the feeling that it would take a long time for such things to happen in the world she and her love were visiting.

As if on cue, Hyperion spoke up, "I agree, but sadly, we've got a job to do before we can discuss philosophy. Let's bust open that fortress and rescue Monica."

"Lady Monica," corrected Ferdinand. "She is an esteemed noble!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," responded Hyperion with an eye roll.

The surprised stares Ferdinand and Lorenz threw his way made him chuckle. People of their calibre were not usually dismissed like this.

"Does anyone want to do the honours? I could bust it down myself, but I'm not sure if I can control that much power sufficiently yet. The spell I've developed for situations like this is still untested," he said.

Sothis simply sighed and told him, "Do it. You'll need to get the hang of it sooner or later. Just try to avoid the inner keep. We don't want the building to collapse on top of Monica."

"Alright, got it," he said in response.

He breathed in deeply, and in front of him lit up the thaumaturgic magic circle. Sothis recognised this as the preparation for a spell he had been thinking of ever since he had begun his efforts to acquire a minor domain over sound. Perhaps it had not been such a good idea to encourage him if this was the spell he was going to use.

Before she could stop him, he screeched. The air began to quake as the shrill sound made its way through the magic circle. It changed pitch for a while, then stayed steady, and with its stability, the air stilled. Instead, the outer walls of the fortress began to vibrate. Then, after only a short few seconds, the walls developed cracks before they shattered with a thunderous boom.

"… You were right. That spell was perhaps a bit too much," said Sothis as she looked at the cracks that had developed in the central keep of the fortress.

The slack-jawed bystanders stood there frozen; whether in fascination or horror she did not know. It was clear, however, that they had not expected this outcome.

Hyperion himself took a few heaving breaths before he said, "Right. There are several things I need to correct before Trumpets of Jericho is a spell ready for wider use."

"I now understand what you meant with power and technique when we met," said Byleth.

"Never mind that," interrupted Sothis. "We must hurry if we wish to rescue Monica."

That said, she rushed forward. Her love and Byleth were hot on her heels, which spurred the others into action as well. Soon, everyone was following the three at the helm, though they paced themselves a bit more.

When Sothis and Hyperion entered the courtyard of the damaged fortress, they were greeted not only by the rubble of the shattered walls but also by the shaken defenders. Most of them were bandits, but there was also a small but significant number of Agarthans among them.

"Surrender now," said Hyperion, "And you will be spared."

Some of the bandits were ready to do so. The Agarthans, however, not so much. They let loose arrows and spells, hurling them at the trio of invaders. Negotiations broke down.

The spells and arrows were intercepted by a powerful AT field emanating from Hyperion. Sothis and Byleth then took to the offence. The former launched powerful spells like Seraphim, Aura and Abraxas into the enemy formation while Byleth sliced away at the opposition. Hyperion mostly maintained the small group's defence, though he also sent bursts of cursed fire at the bandits and Agarthans in the courtyard.

By the time the others caught up to them, the courtyard was devoid of living opposition.

"Right on time. Let's move into the fortress," said Sothis. "I recommend you brace yourselves for combat. You'll see more of it in there. My and Hyperion's destructive capabilities will be curtailed in there lest the building collapse on top of us."

It was the Black Eagles who took the charge without much fanfare. They took point, and Shez accompanied them. Sothis made sure that she and Hyperion would stick close to them.

Apparently, the young mercenary was eager to prove that he was just as accomplished as Byleth. He sadly fell short of the mark, although he was still very impressive. His skill definitely surpassed that of the Academy students. He was significantly faster in any case.

The rest of the battle down to the dungeons was barely worth talking about. The bandits and Agarthans were ill-equipped for combat and thus folded quickly. It did not take long for them to reach their destination at all.

One the rescue party had assembled in the dungeons, they were greeted by the sight of a red-haired girl in chains. She wore an academy uniform in halfway decent condition and sported a distinctive but also slightly misshapen hair style. It appeared that she had been held captive for some time, though she had fortunately not been subjected to violence.

"Lady Edelgard!" shouted the girl.

The Imperial princess smiled. "I'm glad we have found you, Monica."

"I'm so happy you came to rescue me, Your Highness!" said Monica excitedly.

The two deities observed the spectacle that unfolded before them, and Hyperion commented in a low voice, "This timeline is weird. That is this world's Monica? From everything I've heard from ours, she's serious, dutiful and down-to-earth."

"If you count scraping on her knees for Edelgard down-to-earth, this one's too," replied Sothis jokingly.

Hyperion snorted rather loudly, which drew the attention of everyone in the room. "I think the celebration can wait until we're back at Garreg Mach. We're still in enemy territory," he said once he noticed the gazes on him.

As if on cue, shouting could be heard from down that hallway. The enemy was evidently gathering the remainder of their forces. There was more fighting to do.

This time, the fighting was fiercer. The enemies the rescue group were fighting now were on the level of professional soldiers, which put the Academy students at a disadvantage. Fortunately, the duo of experienced mercenaries were at the helm of their formation, while the Professors fought in the rear against flanking Agarthans. Sothis and Hyperion held the middle, lending support where they could. The determined resistance they now faced warranted such a response.

"These guys are tough!" shouted Caspar.

"Don't talk," said Hyperion as he launched a deadly burst of fire.

Their progress through the corridor became a slog as more and more Agarthan soldiers streamed in, replacing the bandits completely. The vicious Dark Magic and the cursed blades they wielded made things more difficult as well. It looked like whoever was in charge wished to bury the rescue party under a wave of bodies.

It availed them little, however. Byleth was as efficient in this world as her counterpart was in the other timeline, though less powerful. Shez also made a good showing of himself, although he showed more frustration. In fact, this frustration seemed to be mounting, and the Agarthan soldiers were made to feel it.

"Out of the way!" shouted Shez.

A strange glow overtook him. Markings appeared on his skin, and an ominous formation of orange light began appearing over parts of his body. Sothis shuddered as she watched this transformation. She recognised it faintly, and her pulse quickened. She had felt this power before, and she did not like it.

The young man was ignorant of her distress and the others' curiosity. He simply rushed forwards, cutting through his foes with enormous speed.

He was a blur in the eyes of nearly everyone present. The contemptuous ease with which he cut down his opponents was startling. His body count was now quickly catching up to Byleth', though she seemed to take this as a challenge and redoubled her efforts as well. As a result, the enemies began falling faster than they could replenish their numbers.

After a short amount of time, the rescue party emerged from the fortress onto the courtyard. They were greeted by the sight of more Agarthans. Their apparent leader was a voluptuous woman; one whom Sothis recognised easily.

"Capture her," said Sothis, "But don't kill her."

Rationally, she knew that this was not the same Kronya as the one she was friends with, but the potential was there. Aside from that, she would also yield valuable intel into how Dark Shells worked in this world; provided she had one.

"You think you can?" mocked Kronya. "You'll have to catch me first, and before you can do that, you have to get through my pet here first."

On that cue, a demonic beast was warped onto the courtyard. It roared and made to charge, but it met an impediment.

"We don't have time for this nonsense," muttered Hyperion. He let loose one of his more recently crafted spells. "Gehenna!"

A great pillar of cursed fire sprouted from the ground and engulfed the demonic beast. Its roar changed from rage to pain and then stilled within but a few seconds. When the fire disappeared, there was not even ash left.

Sothis was not idle either. She had run toward Kronya the moment Hyperion had unleashed his spell. She was thus practically in the Agarthan's face by the time the flames had died down. She cast an Aura spell, making sure to set it to be non-lethal, which took Kronya out of the fight.

Seeing this development, the remaining Agarthans began to flee. Whether they were on foot, mounted or moved by magical means, they vacated the premises in a hurry.

The Goddess was satisfied with that conclusion, and so was Hyperion.

"Right then," he said, "Let's rest for a bit and then head back to Garreg Mach. There's no telling if they're calling reinforcements."

Rhea, who was actually in command, nodded her head. "I agree. This… group is highly dangerous. It would be best for us to relocate swiftly. We shall leave in a quarter of an hour. Make sure to make the most of this short rest," she announced.

The same night. Tent of Sothis and Hyperion.

After the quick official debriefing everyone had been forced to attend after we had made camp, Sothis and I had retreated to our warded tent to have one of our own. The day's events warranted a private discussion.

"Did she have a Dark Shell?" Sothis inquired about this world's Kronya.

I nodded in confirmation. "She did, yeah. I've asked Byleth to keep her on suicide watch. She and your counterpart agreed to do so."

"Good," said Sothis as she let out a relieved sigh. "That's a weight off my heart."

"Yeah, your counterpart is a lot more aggressive than you. I was afraid she'd encourage Kronya to off herself instead of preventing it," I admitted.

Sothis sighed again. "I feared much the same. I'm glad we were mistaken."

I hummed. "Well, this world is throwing us for a loop about a lot of things. There are items of interest, though."

"Oh?" asked Sothis with a questioning tone, "What sort of items would those be?"

Smiling lightly, I produced a book. It was not an ordinary one, though. There was a lot of magical residue on it.

"This, for example. The magic tomes people use here are fascinating. To be fair, the way they use them here makes them a crutch and leads to deterioration in skill, but at their heart, they amplify any spell cast with them as the focus. Having those things back home would come as a boon," I explained.

She looked at the tome in my hands and reached out to take it. I let her inspect it with her own senses. Her examination also included her pushing magic through it, though she did not form a spell.

"It is indeed fascinating," she said. "We should find out how to make these ourselves. You are right that they would be a great addition to our friends' arsenal in our own timeline."

"Agreed. I wonder if we could make training tomes for people like Alois too," I wondered.

Sothis furrowed he brows in thought and asked, "What do you mean?"

I answered, "Alois has little to no talent in performing spells. His magic is mostly focussed on strengthening his body rather than externalising itself. I thought that with the correct tomes, he could at least cast more spells, even if they end up being underpowered."

She smiled at me and said, "That is a great idea. I approve. I shall personally help you acquire the method of tome fabrication!"

"Careful, you're slipping into archaic speech patterns," I teased.

She shoved me gently. "Oh, hush you. We'll see how you do it after a few centuries."

"With you by my side? Hopefully a lot better," I said and then gave her a peck on the lips.

She laughed. "Charmer," she said with fondness and gave me a peck of her own.

Before we got any further, however, she leaned back and sighed again. "There's another thing we need to talk about," she said with a serious tone.

I straightened my back and looked her in the eyes. "Shoot."

"I think I've found our target," she said with a tight voice, "And I don't like the implications."

I frowned at what she said, and the way she said it. "That doesn't sound good."

She shook her head and said, "It is definitely not good at all. If we're dealing with the one I think we're dealing with, this will end in tears. Did you see the markings on Shez when he used his strange powers?"

"Wait a second. Are you saying Shez is our target?" I asked, perplexed.

Sothis denied, "No, but I've seen these markings before. You've seen my memories, so you should know them too."

That brought a frown to my face. Following that train of thought I searched for the memory with those markings, which brought me to the only part of Sothis' memories I had not been able to see clearly. Then, things became clear.

"Epimenides? That fucker who sacrificed billions?" I asked.

Sothis nodded and said, "The very same. I've only seen these markings on him; no one else. I was unaware he had created the Darkness of Zahras, however."

Indeed, that had been the thing Metatron had told us; that our target had created that forbidden spell. Still, this knowledge gave the mess a new perspective.

"So, we have on our hands an expert on soul magic who's been on the loose for thousands of years. The fact that he's, presumably, still around means he's found a way to circumvent mortality. And that leads to Shez, somehow," I summarised.

"Yes," said Sothis, "If he wanted to escape punishment after death, which he must have known he would receive if he avoided going through with the soul sacrifice he performed in our timeline, then he would have needed a way to stay out of the afterlife."

"The question is how," I said.

She looked grim as she said, "I believe the answer is closer than you think. Consider the Dark Shells. If there is a method to attach a parasite to a soul, it's not hard to imagine that there is a way to attach one soul to another with a different kind of soul parasite."

"With the Dark Shell as basis, another soul parasite could be constructed to connect to two souls instead of one. One of these souls then gains primacy over the body with the help of the parasite," I muttered.

"Yes," said Sothis, "And now consider the possibility that many of these soul parasites are issued, not just one. Just in case the chosen host dies. And then, more parasites can be made whenever the previous roster of hosts grows too old."

I considered this for a second. "Well shit, we've got a body snatcher on our hands, then. And you suspect Shez is the newest host?"

Sothis nodded grimly. "Yes, I do. However, I believe that Epimenides has not yet taken control. Shez behaves too authentic to be anyone but himself. Epimenides is not the sort of person who can disguise their proclivities."

"That means we still have time to act," I concluded.

A smile graced her face. "We do." The smile faded as she continued, "But we must act soon, before Epimenides' consciousness breaks through."

I hummed in thought for a moment. "I've got an idea. I think it's our best shot. Let me explain…"

The next day. En route to the Monastery.

Several hours of march had passed. The hardest bit of the way back to Garreg Mach was over now. In another hour or two, they would reach a Warp station manned by the Central Church, from where their small group could be transported to their destination in short order. As such, Rhea felt secure enough to order a small stop for a quick bite to eat and a bit of rest.

That was the window of opportunity Sothis and I had been waiting for. We had to drum up a few people to get everything in order. So, we parted ways to get everyone we needed quickly. I left to fetch Byleth and Shez while Sothis retrieved Rhea and a few knights of her personal guard. The latter would serve as witnesses and, if needed, containment.

"Alight, ladies and gentlemen," I said once everyone had gathered, "I called you here for a lesson in the fundamentals of magic and the consequences of the abuse thereof."

When I was sure that I had the attention of my audience, I began my explanation, "You see, magic is the product of a soul's existence. Once a species has had sapience for long enough, its oversoul evolves. During that evolutionary process, individuals will crop up who can use powers that cannot be explained by science; powers that violate the Law of Conservation of Energy. Magic is energy produced by the soul, yes, but it is created out of nothing, for the soul is exempt from the laws of physics. Now, eventually, more and more people will acquire the ability to use that power, until the entire species uses it not only subconsciously but also consciously. And, as it is with anything, the more people know about it, the more people can abuse it."

I walked in circles while speaking, establishing a rhythm as I made the rounds. The more captivated the listeners were the easier my job got.

"As you can guess, people began studying souls as soon as they found out that they are the source of magic," I went on, "And there comes the potential of abuse. Stimulating souls to produce more magic may sound harmless, but it is most certainly not. The soul is the most fundamental core of the self, the ontological definition of an individual's instantiation in any given reality. Any mistake, no matter how small, could have catastrophic consequences. Therefore, to deliberately manipulate a soul to its detriment is an act of sacrilege so egregious that the punishment it warrants is literally indescribable. And this is something we bore witness to today."

"In what manner?" asked Rhea with a deep frown on her face.

"You recall the woman we captured today, yes?" I asked back, "She bore a Dark Shell. It is a type of device the Agarthans are fond of using on their more valuable field operatives; those they cannot afford to be disloyal. Its purpose is to act as a soul leech, to induce false responses and impulses into the soul of its victims. Someone affected by a Dark Shell can not only be forced to commit atrocities but also be forced to enjoy them. Your Grace, imagine yourself slowly torturing your entire family to death, relishing in their anguish and the sense of betrayal… and imagine yourself feeling near-orgasmic joy as you do so. That is the effect of a Dark Shell on its victim."

As I spoke, the expression on the Archbishop's face contorted into one of pure horror at the scenario I outlined. The rest of the audience, bar my Sothis, was in the same boat. Even as an oppressive silence settled, I kept up with my rounds.

"And this leads me to the next topic," I said, "As if the Dark Shell weren't enough, there is one Agarthan in specific who just can't stop fucking with souls to the point of perverting the natural order. The soul is sacrosanct, yet this man has found a way to defile that sanctity by infecting souls with his taint and usurping them, stealing his victims' bodies across the ages on his flight from death. And I say that these days are over!"

I stopped my march in front of Shez. Then, lightning quick, my hand shot up to his chest, and I activated my soul-based powers. It took barely a fraction of a second to find something that did not belong, and once I had it in my grasp, I tugged on it. It was stubbornly clinging to Shez's own soul, but I severed its connection in an instant and ripped the foreign thing out of the young mercenary. The young man in question collapsed, his chest heaving as he looked up at me with wide eyes.

"Arval?" he asked, looking at the thing I was gripping with my hand.

"May I present to you: A soul parasite created by the Agarthan Epimenides," I said.

The floating, white-coloured person I was holding in my hand looked at me in confusion. "I do not understand," it said.

"Of course you don't. You do not yet bear Epimenides' markings. My beloved and I surmised that you are but a larval stage of Epimenides' soul leech; one more crime to lay at his feet. He created you, a sentient being, and denied you your own soul so he could use you to implant his own. Sacrilege," I told it. "Though, admittedly, we had no clue that you were sentient or even sapient. I must express my deepest regrets that things are the way they are."

As I said this, an orange glow began to take over the being I was holding. "Your time is over, huh?" I asked sadly.

"What are you doing to Arval?!" shouted Shez.

He tried to stand up, but he fell back down as soon as he attempted it. It seemed that he lacked strength at this time. That soul leech must have been connected more deeply to him than I had imagined.

"Me? I'm doing nothing to this person. My guess that this is a fail-safe," I said. I directed my gaze at Arval, only to see that the markings had overtaken it. "Epimenides, I presume?"

The Agarthan spectre sneered at me. "You presume correctly, beast," he said with a snarl.

"Says the monster," I shot back.

"This is not over!" he said.

Before anyone could react, a small burst of power exuded from him, and he was gone. The faint residue of special distortion magic remained, but it felt very distinct from Warp spells. I had a feeling that this was going to be annoying.

"You're right," I muttered, "Your downfall has only just begun."

AN: Well, hello there, my dear reader! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

To those of you familiar with the plot of Three Hopes, things may be moving a bit fast, but I did say that I didn't want to spend too much time on the Three Hopes timeline. Its purpose is mainly to serve as a character arc for Hyperion and, hopefully, for Sothis. I also wanted to work a bit more with the concepts of souls and magic.

That said, next chapter we'll be back in the Three Houses timeline, where Byleth decides that he doesn't give a damn about the strategic planning of Thales and his cohorts.

At this point, I would like to give my sincere thanks to everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed.

All that remains for me to say is farewell. Until next time. Stay happy and healthy, everyone!