'I look forward to duelling with General Roy,' Murdock remarks while Gale helps fit the great general's armour, 'too bad he's still a gullible young boy who fell for the Etrurian government's propaganda.'

'Indeed.' Gale's arm muscles tremble under the weight of his commander's shoulder plates. He cannot fathom how Murdock even moves, let alone deals formidable blows while wearing them.

'Gale, you and I are different: this may be the first war in Elibe's history where the leading commanders were a commoner and a struggling foreign mercenary.' They watch troops march out from around the Temple of Seals to station themselves on the battlefield. Murdock flicks open his pendant, but the sun's glare blocks Gale's view of the image contained within it. He clicks it shut, then places the precious memento in his pocket, 'there is more at stake than just a piece of land. Our great king's Bern, a country that honours the efforts of common people rather than siphoning their harvest to the aristocracy, is in danger. We cannot surrender history to the Etrurian upper classes.'

That's right, Gale reminds himself: I hate the Etrurian aristocracy who boast their gentility and fine artisanship while enslaving their common people. I hate that noble bastard who left Mamma and me to freeze in the village while he continued his 'conquests'. The painter's poster featuring Gale's 'portrait' sniggers at him from one of the walls: the face belongs to his father, serpentine with its twisted smile and pinpoint pupils.

'Bern will never surrender!' Gale tears down the poster, scrunching up the face in one fist, 'we will crush the enemy!'

'Come on, Trifinne!' I lead my wyvern through the narrow valley, remembering the jagged rocks and cliff faces that surround Anna's secret shop. My father used to take me here all the time to buy special weapons or medicines for Mother— Oh, Father, I'm sorry for leaving your side when Mother was ill! Trifinne's body tenses under me. She lets out a pained groan.

'Trifinne, are you alright?' The inside of my mouth feels dry. Something's wrong. Just as we turn a corner, she rears up at another wyvern. I draw my lance before recognising the amethyst purple scales before me. It is Gale's wyvern, 'G-Gale...' Both wyverns freeze, anxious for our instructions. I watch Gale's hair float in the wind like the threads of a battered flag. For a moment, I fantasise that we are simply preparing for a practice duel in Bern's training fields. My hair is still long and braided to one side, his tied into a low ponytail as we decide which techniques to concentrate on for the day.

'Miledy...' I recognise his deep resonant voice, the one that reassured me when I was almost expelled from the Bern army, his arms holding me after an injury during a mission in Ilia— Gale! It's really you! As I try to come closer, he grips onto his wyvern's reins, 'go! We have pledged our allegiances to different sides. Our only choices are to pretend we never saw each other or fight- so go!'

'Gale, wait!' I block him when he tries to speed past.

'You will be a traitor for passing the opportunity to attack a Dragon Lord of Bern,' Gale's face gleams with sweat, 'and I will be a traitor for letting the treacherous princess' bodyguard run free! So go, and pretend we never saw each other!'

'I can't because— Because!' Heath's words rattle in my mind: you cannot persuade him with words. My heart beats in panic, knowing I have no other tools, 'y-you're not just a Dragon Lord, and I'm not merely the princess' bodyguard! You're Gale, the one I secretly followed to church, the one I trained with— the one I promised to marry!'

'Please, Miledy—!' Gale tries to yank his wyvern Skarlen away but it shakes its head.

'I can't choose between fighting or pretending you are invisible because— Gale, don't you see?!' Again, Heath's words reverberate through my body: you can't do it alone. My scream echoes through the valley, trying to stop the battle so the world can hear me, 'YOU'RE THE ONE I LOVE!'

'Miledy- Watch out!' Gale launches forward to push me out of my spot. A silver arrow pierces his shoulder like a meat skewer. Skarlen shrieks as Gale's body skids along the rocky ground. The silhouette of a sniper standing at the top of a cliff becomes clear. She raises her bow in my direction.

'Go!' Gale yells, grunting as blood spurts out from around the arrow tip, 'hurry!'

'No!' I try to direct Trifinne closer to him but she darts to avoid an arrow and races onwards, 'Trifinne! Turn back! Gale! Gaaaaaale!'

Even as we fly around another bend, the image of Gale lying under Skarlen's wing is embossed in my mind. The passage opens to a grassy expanse where soldiers slash at each other. They are tiny figurines, with the loser splitting open like a burst tomato. Approaching enemies are just fleshy trees against my lance's blade. Occasionally, I recognise the face of a former Bern comrade contorted into an enraged grimace. My arms strike and parry in a mechanical sequence. Is this the pinnacle of a knight's honour, becoming an automaton driven by survival instinct?

'Lord Murdock!' At the Temple of Seals entrance, General Roy raises his sword against the great Bern knight, 'we will fight a fair and honourable duel!' Sparks fly between General Roy's and Lord Murdock's blades. The clashing steel fades into a muffled background against my picture of Skarlen licking Gale's wounds, cradling his wounded master. General Roy's sword passes through two plates in Lord Murdock's armour, turning the great knight into a pile of clanging metal and limbs. The duellists are miniatures in an oil painting of Bern's temple, a blip in the history textbooks that Mother devoted her life to developing and correcting. My comrades' victory cheers are ripples in the books' pages, condensed into a paragraph or even just a sentence.

I might have panicked at my apathy and confessed it to Father Yoder a hundred times the night before. Now, my spirit floats through the blade of my lance, whisking through the open wounds of former comrades who embark on their trip back into the earth. An Etrurian flag rides up to the Temple's spire like a jellyfish. The rest of the Lycian army gathers around the Temple of Seals. I lead Trifinne into the clouds, returning to the valley where Gale and I had exchanged last words.