Mamma,

At last, Lord Murdock gave permission for me to join Miledy in the Western Isles to assist in the search for Princess Guinevere. Though I will treasure any moments with her, the Etrurian colony reminds me of all the things I despise about the Etrurian government. The aristocratic class' suffer from a bird-like obsession with jewels, to the extent that they torture their miners and leave pirates and bandits to terrorise the land. It cements my loyalty to Bern's mission of world liberation.

My letters will be infrequent due to restricted crossings between Bern and Etruria. I only managed to send this while passing through Ilia with Miledy. As always, I have enclosed a cheque but included more than usual in case escalating tensions make it more difficult or impossible to send money across borders.

Gale

'Thank you for your prayers which brought my son and his fiancée back together, even if just briefly,' Gale's mother, Ilya, bows to the priest in her local church, a simple, brick-walled hall with a paining of St Elimine hanging at the front. The priest is surprisingly young for someone who has entered the Elimine service.

'Of course, Ms Ilya,' the priest observes Ilya's eyes. They are deep and still like ink pots, 'our church owes a lot to the both of you.'

'I am happy that he has found pride in his duties as a Bern knight,' Ilya's white scalp shows through her silvery hair, 'if only his father's abandonment wouldn't fuel so much resentment to the Etrurian state.'

'Perhaps his fiancée Lady Miledy will be a positive influence.' The priest's robes float behind him like angel wings, 'is she religious?'

'No, but she is a spirited and beautiful lady from a family who served the Bern army,' Ilya genuflects in front of the Saint Elimine portrait. She takes in the church's lavender scent as they exit.

'You experienced challenges when raising your son alone, after that faithless nobleman left your side. But fortune came because your love for this son was true,' the priest offers his arm for Ilya to hold. The dim church opens out into a meadow of tall grass that grows around a flattened path, 'similarly, this conflict will test Sir Gale and Lady Miledy's love. If it is genuine, Saint Elimine will rescue it during a dire moment. That is my belief.'

'I-Isn't it wonderful to be flying like this together again?' I ask Gale as we dismount our wyverns at the Western Isles. Upon first reuniting at a Bern-Ilia border town, we held one another like long-separated lovers, relishing our luck that Lord Murdock tasked Gale with assisting in the princess' search mission. Now, a dreadful ache pulses through my chest. If only I could tell him about my encounter with his former mentor Heath! But then Gale will ask about our conversation which could reveal my wavering allegiances to Bern.

'It… Is,' Gale smiles at the sand but his eyes seem unfocused. The coast is deceptively peaceful with its lapping waves and briny air. Every now and again, a ghostly wail cries out from Mount Ebrakhm, an Etrurian-run mine rumoured to discard forced labourers like manure. Gale turns around as I'm watching his dark hair glide behind him, 'Miledy, is something wrong? You look bothered.'

'Huh? No, it's nothing.' I skip to keep up. If only I could find out Gale's feelings towards Heath's own status as a deserter. Maybe, I can subtly steer the topic towards Heath, 'say, do you know who Lady Priscilla is? I just remembered that time General Narcian tried to frame me as a dissident for cutting my hair "like an Etrurian noblewoman." There was a rumour that I'd styled myself off Lady Priscilla even when I'd never heard of her.'

'I'm sorry about that incident,' he mutters as we both laugh. Only in retrospect can I look back on that training session with fondness: Gale had narrowly missed my head and but sliced off my braid after I fell off my wyvern during a manoeuvre, 'short hair suits you though.'

'Thank you, Gale – so, about Lady Priscilla…'

'The name is familiar,' Gale cocks one eyebrow at me: he's suspicious but doesn't seem to have detected my motive for zeroing in on the Etrurian fashion icon, 'she is a famed Etrurian beauty, despite being Ostian by birth and adopted by Etrurian nobles.'

'Do you think Lady Priscilla might have had – you know, someone special to her?' I tilt my head away to avoid his sceptical look, 'maybe… A man she was forbidden to marry due to class differences?'

'I never followed the Etrurian tabloids,' Gale stands in front of my path, 'Miledy, you've been acting strange since we left Ilia.'

'I'm sorry for being like this, especially given that this is the first time we've been able to see each other after your marriage proposal,' I clasp my hands as we walk, suddenly feeling shrunken under my heavy armour, 'throughout my travels, I've seen... villages and towns completely destroyed – by soldiers from our side! Is this really Bern's idea of liberation?'

In the distance, campfire smokes are grey wisps in the sky. Gale's hands slide into his pockets, 'as knights, you and I can commit to protecting innocent people from conflict and treating victims with dignity. Unfortunately, some will abuse their power and trample others with their strength. That's the case in all armies.'

'But it can't be right!' I feel like a whining child when Gale looks down at me. In a nearby tree, a parrot performs an acrobatic twirl around a branch, opening its green wings to maintain stability, 'why is Bern terrorising the very people it claims to free?!'

'Because this is the alternative!' Gale points in the direction of Mount Ekbrahm. My muscles freeze. This is the first time he has raised his voice off the battlefield, 'if we hesitate, the entire continent will live through another era of Etrurian dominance. The aristocratic class will continue working its subjects to death for a few extra gems to put in their crowns.'

'But—!'

A droplet of saliva flies out of Gale's mouth, 'a few rogue Bern knights cannot compare to the decades of devastation that Etrurian rulers have led!'

'But that's not justice!' My heel digs into the ground. 'that's just revenge!'

The somersaulting parrot shrieks when another parrot lands and begins pecking its claws. Gale's chest heaves up and down as he watches me. I try to guess from the tense lips and brow muscles whether he is furious, bewildered or both. He drops his shoulders and turns away, 'Miledy, can you find the stables on this settlement? I will go into town for supplies and ask about the princess' whereabouts. They may be more inclined to share information with someone in direct communication with Lord Murdock and King Zephiel.'

Gale hands his wyvern's reins to me, muttering to his creature, 'Skarlen, listen to Miledy. Hear me?'

Skarlen lets out a pained whimper when Gale saunters away. My feet are soldered to the ground as I watch his back grow smaller in the distance. Why did I ruin our reunion with politics?!

The centre of the island settlement is small but vibrant thanks to international trade as well as unregulated markets that facilitate the circulation of illegal goods. Most of the shopkeepers running outdoor stores are miners' wives trying to supplement their husbands' meagre incomes. Children scurry around the back, helping with cleaning, arranging goods or babysitting younger siblings. A beggar with boils crowding one side of his face lies beside a wall, smoking a bitter-smelling substance from a large pipe. One leg is a stump while the other is covered in raw sores.

'Darn you, Bishop Oro...' The beggar puffs out a torrent of grey clouds, waving his pipe in the air, 'the cave's gonna... Gonnaaaaa...' His hand falls limp, causing the pipe to roll all the way across the street.

Miledy's voice replays in Gale's head: that's not justice. That's just revenge. He reaches for the letter in his pocket. Zeiss had asked him to deliver news of Lady Lurja's ailing health to Miledy. How can he give it to her, now that she's expressing doubts in the country her mother built? Would the letter come across as an attempt to coerce Miledy into loyalty, using Lady Lurja as bait? That would be wrong.

Pacing with the letter in his hands, he finds himself at a tent with a wooden statuette of Saint Elimine outside. A priest in white robes hands out bread loaves, soup and puréed fruit to wounded men. They are likely former miners based on the missing limbs and crushed faces. Most of them are elderly but one is a teenage boy with both legs reduced to stumps.

'Are you Bishop Oro?' Gale asks the hunchbacked priest with a long grey ponytail.

'No, I am just an ordinary priest.' Half the priest's face smiles back. The other half has been burnt off with acid, leaving only flaked skin and hollow eye socket, 'Bishop Oro was tasked with organising the Western Isles colony, but he pays little attention to their suffering. All I can do is carry out Saint Elimine's work by helping injured workers who would otherwise perish.'

The priest continues stirring a bubbling soup pot, 'at least the Lycian army is coming to free the workers. General Roy is young but has a stronger sense of justice than most men I know, certainly than that so-called holy man Bishop Oro.'

'Really…' Why would the Lycian army be undermining Etrurian-occupied territory if they are puppets of the Etrurian government? Gale checks his softening feelings towards the Lycian army. Perhaps Etrurian aristocrats are indulging General Roy's naive sense of justice to maintain their alliance with Lycia. A fringe humanitarian act will not divert Etruria's long-term goal of subjugating the continent.

'You look like a knight yourself,' the priest takes an elixir and strength tonic for Gale, 'these will be useful to you.'

'I'm working for Bern. My comrade and I are only here to find Princess Guinevere. She is apparently with the Lycian army,' Gale tries to refuse the priest's offer, 'it would be improper to accept aid from the opposing side. Keep it for your own people.'

'Regardless of which side you're on, you seem like a just man,' the priest places the elixir, tonic and a few vulneraries into a calico satchel, 'a few extras for your comrade too.'

'Well… Thank you, Father,' Gale steps out of the way when the legless boy hobbles to the counter to spoon more soup into a dirty tin cup. Once, Gale remembers, it was him tottering behind his mother Ilya as she relied on their local church's charity.

'It's a long way from Bern,' the priest drags out another wooden stool for Gale to sit on, 'how are you and your comrade faring? Have you worked together for long?'

'Actually,' Gale glances back down at the letter in his hands, 'she's my fiancée as well. Although I was born in Etruria, she always treated me as her equal.'

'How wonderful: training and fighting alongside the one you love,' the priest's face creases around the functional eye when he smiles, 'yet why do I hear despair in your voice?'

'I... Do not know how much longer we will be comrades,' Gale feels the grooves of the vulnerary vials through the cloth bag. They slide under his fingertips like pebbles, 'I fear that our loyalties are diverging.'

'If you end up on opposing sides.' It is as if the priest can still see through Gale using the disintegrated eye, 'would you still love her?'

'I made my vows and intend to keep them.'

'Then your bond will not dissolve in the blood of clashing soldiers,' the priest places his hand on Gale's head as if baptising a child, 'Saint Elimine is the spirit of love. Even non-believing artists understand this. It is no coincidence that every nation's literary cannon features star-crossed lovers.'

'Apparently, the princess isn't in the Western Isles with the Lycian army as expected. They may have left her in a more secure location on the mainland,' Gale dumps a sack of supplies and two new lances on the ground beside our tent. He catches an apple as it tries to roll out of the bag.

'Thank you for asking around town.' Trifinne nudges me with her snout. It's not too late to clarify what I meant earlier, 'Gale, I—.'

'I'm sorry for overreacting earlier,' Gale sits on a felled tree trunk, 'I… I hope you understand. I would never tolerate harm against any innocent citizen, no matter who the perpetrator is.'

'I never meant to doubt your honour. It's just—.' The profession of doubt in Bern's cause stops like a piece of cork in my throat.

'Tell me the truth, Miledy,' Gale joins my side, taking my hand in his, 'whatever it is, I want to know.'

'I guess... I've just seen things, spoken to people— it's made me wonder: what if we're on the wrong side with King Zephiel? What if it is Princess Guinevere who is trying to save Bern?'

'You mean... You would betray the state—? Or at least, you'd do it if the princess had indeed defected to the Lycian Alliance?' Gale watches a ladybug clamber up a grass blade.

'My loyalty is to her, after all.' Is that just a convenient excuse? 'I'm sure you despise me now, a native from Bern ready to discard the contribution that her ancestors made to build Bern and the privileges she took for granted.'

'No. I respect your reasoning and loyalty to Princess Guinevere. And I'm glad you could be open with me about it,' Gale pushes a few hair strands away from my face to look me straight in the eyes, 'but as a knight, my loyalty will always be to Lord Murdock and, by extension, King Zephiel. Lord Murdock gave me the chance to rebuild my life and support my mother. I will never trade in Bern's ideals, however imperfectly executed, for the Etrurian aristocracy's exploitation of the common people: the Western Isles are proof of that. I hope you understand.'

'Yes... Except...' The logical conclusion - that Gale and I may end up on opposite sides of the battlefield - is too much to bear alone, 'I couldn't fight you!'

He leans closer. The delicate curvature of his nose and lips contrasts with the jaw's and chin's sharpness. Heat emanates from his cheeks, 'Miledy, when I asked for your hand, I promised never to harm you. That won't change...'

'Gale...' Bern, Etruria, loyalty, betrayal — the concepts vanish when his breath touches my face.

Suddenly, Gale breaks his gaze, 'Skarlen! Put that down!'

Skarlen and Trifinne are a mess of leathery wings and sharp tails as they squabble over the supplies bag. Both Gale and I jump up as they shake out the sack. Fruit, dried produce, vulneraries and other small items scatter on the ground.

'Skarlen… You fool...' Gale and I bend over to claw up apples. He smiles at me, 'let's just enjoy the time we have together.' We hold open the sack to drop the items back in. They tug against the hessian fabric upon landing, assuring us that the supplies are being replenished with every additional weight.

Before I can answer, a wyvern squadron flies over. They are close, with the Bern flag streaming behind their leader. I catch sight of the leading wyvern's shimmering maroon scales, 'isn't that General Narcian? Why're they flying to Etruria?'

Gale spins around to look up, 'it's General Narcian. With such a large squad, they must be going to the Etrurian capital for battle. It seems that his guess about the princess being safeguarded in Misul castle on the mainland while the Lycian Army branched off to the Western Isles was right. As much as I hate to admit it, General Narcian's intuitions are often correct.'

'So they have found the princess…' I should be relieved. All I need to do now is carry her back to Bern's safety. Yet the fact is that Etruria was protecting her. The idea that she has defected – and that I must follow—seems more likely than ever.

'You'll need this more than me,' he fastens the supplies sack and hands it to me, 'it's good news that they've found the princess, isn't it? Your mission is almost finished.'

'I suppose… But what if I never see you again? What if we end up…?'

'Then remember what we discussed today and take this letter. You must not open it until you have completed the princess' rescue mission.' Gale cradles my hands in his when I accept the letter with Zeiss' scrawl on the front, 'promise me that.'

'Yes, Gale.' My whole body freezes over when our fingers slide away from each other, 'I promise.'