In the weeks that followed the Shepherd's return, changes came to Nicola's routine. He still trained with Phila, Aquila and Cordelia on most days, but he also made time to spar with Vaike, Sully, Lon'qu and, on rare occasions, Frederick. He wouldn't consider Vaike or Sully to be weak, especially not when they fought together and covered for one another, but they weren't Lon'qu. Or Frederick for that matter.
The former was faster than Nicola, often able to strike before the spearman could unleash his own attacks, and forced him to fight defensively. While his strikes rarely connected when Nicola was able to keep his defenses up, Lon'qu's heavy blows felt punishing for each strike blocked or parried rather than avoided. Frederick was also a surprisingly tough opponent, clinical and almost surgically precise in his actions. He wasn't a flashy warrior without his mount, not compared to Lon'qu or the others Nicola had fought in recently, but his attacks were clean and powerful while his guard never fell. He had clearly earned his moniker, 'the Wary', from more than just his apprehension of others.
Nicola had begun attending the Mage's College as an initiate, though that came with some issues. The first and foremost were the restrictions on his movement. He wasn't allowed to go into town without a writ from one of the instructors and he needed special permissions in order to go and train every morning. Following that was acquiring his spellbook and learning materials: no shop wanted to sell them to him, even with a note from the dean of the school. The mage who ran the shop where he confirmed his potential had been bought out and other smaller shops remained uncooperative, slowing his enrollment process down until he made a deal with the Anna who accompanied the Shepherds.
"It's a good deal," she beamed as she charged him four times as much for his spellbook and assorted reading materials he'd need. "I am the only one willing to sell to you after all, what with those rumors swirling about you."
He growled in response, but paid the red haired woman her due regardless. She was correct in being his only choice unless he wanted to wait for spring to enroll. By then, the shop he would have gone to would have restocked on materials. That would have taken far too long for his liking.
Once that was taken care of, the final issue came into play: his affinity. The Mage's College didn't like the idea of training someone with an affinity for Dark magic. They liked it even less when they couldn't even confirm if it was just Dark magic or something far older. It made the staff and many of the students wary when the device they used to find his affinity grew darker than a lightless night sky and began drawing in the surrounding light. That did very little to disperse the rumors about him, to the point where people in town would shy away from him if they recognized him. He still helped out when he was able to, but that time had severely diminished. It helped that he never expected payment.
The mages were reassured more than the general population when Nicola displayed some ability to cast Earth magic. While Earth was closely associated with the Dark, it was still along the elemental spectrum and therefore able to be used righteously. Whatever righteous magic use was when the school was ultimately teaching people how to kill with their spells. He didn't express that view aloud or his opinion on Dark magic, he figured neither would be particularly appreciated.
Instead Nicola kept his head down for the first few weeks of his time at the academy. It was for the best and in his interest to do so. The more he was able to learn here, the better, so rocking the boat was out of the question until he knew what he needed. Instinct alone wouldn't aid him.
Finally, a decent amount of his free time was spent with Lissa. They were having exposure therapy to help him through his issues with intimate contact, which mainly involved her holding his hand or hugging him until he couldn't resist the urge to jerk back or pull away. The results were mixed at best, but he felt that he was gradually getting better. When Emmeryn found out, she found it amusing and cute. Chrom found it less so, but he was also far more supportive than Nicola thought he would be.
"Just don't get any funny ideas," the prince warned, much to his sister's chagrin.
"Chrom, it's nothing like that," Lissa exclaimed fervently. "We're gradually working through one of Nicola's issues. It's entirely platonic and therapeutic!"
The former summoner nodded in response then and had an entire conversation with Chrom about the issue later. That helped assuage the prince's fears, though Frederick and Maribelle were less than convinced. The latter actually cornered him one day and attempted to threaten him.
"Listen here you oaf," the noble woman growled days before she needed to return to her duchy. "If there is so much as a smudge of dirt or misplaced hair on my darling, I will throttle you where you stand."
Perhaps that would have intimidated another, but Nicola was used to the fiery noble by that point.
"While I've no plans to sully Lissa's grace or anything of the sort, I will throw you should you attack me, Lady Maribelle," he breathed in return, his cool glare matching her burning gaze. They both knew the other meant what they said, their mutual dislike for one another having grown so strong that it was akin to a bitter camaraderie. They could trust each other to keep their word in regard to the other in a screwy way. It was nothing like friendship and anyone who said otherwise would face their combined wrath.
With that out of the way, Nicola and Lissa's time together continued and the spearman began to wonder if his feelings for the princess were truly just platonic. Any time those thoughts grew prevalent, he pushed them down. He didn't need them ruining a good thing he had. That didn't stop him from thinking she was cute, however, and it certainly didn't stop him from noticing the occasional deep blush she had during their sessions. Instead, he focused his attention on telling her what he could remember about the legend of the Summoner.
The hard part was honestly telling the story while trying to not force himself from the partially unwanted contact. They'd worked out a deal where he would only tell the story while the princess held him, but it was rather difficult. They'd made little progress, hardly reaching the Summoner's—his—second encounter with the wicked heir of the Cursed Kingdom—Veronica. He hadn't reached the story of Muspel and Nifl or his experience with the Host of the Dead. Frankly, he wasn't sure he would be able to tell those with a straight face, but he knew that telling those tales on his own time would help him move on.
Towards the end of one such session, a shorter one than usual, Lissa asked a question.
"So why does the heir of the Wicked Kingdom hate the Austere kingdom so much? It makes no sense when their nations worked alongside each other despite their differences."
"Because of a curse on their bloodline," the former summoner explained. "The heir aligned very closely with the patron deity of their nation, earning the approval of their people but at the cost of their control over their hatred and bloodlust."
"And no one tried to fix that?"
"No, their elder brother did before he vanished. He searched far and wide for a way to break the curse on his family while the heir ruled their nation. Then he disappeared one day in a distant land with the heir's most loyal retainer."
"Oh..." Nicola wasn't sure if Veronica would have appreciated the sympathy Lissa had for her. She had been prickly like that, like a cat really. She hated people feeling sorry for her or coddling her for all she said that she simply hated people. She certainly enjoyed being around Alfonse, though she'd quickly pull the air from someone's lungs if they commented on it. They had been cute together once the princess began warming up to the prince, her brooding and occasionally pouty disposition meshing well with his cool and calm disposition.
"I will say that the heir was more than just a monster ruled by their bloodline, but that's explored more in later portions of the legend."
"I see. Will you tell me more?"
"The next time we meet. In the meantime, make sure to remember to get some rest. It looks like you haven't slept well recently."
The princess gave a short laugh. "I've been practicing a bit too late recently. I'm in the process of mastering a new spell, but the last part of it isn't quite making sense to me."
"Oh? Wanna talk about it?"
"Not right now." Lissa shook her head. "I'm probably overthinking it, so I'm giving myself a few days to clear my head. I'll get back to it when I do."
"Fair enough. Still if you need any help, I might be able to provide some if your sister is unable to." He hadn't had it fully disproven that Zenithian magic didn't work here. Magic was certainly smaller in scale in Ylisse compared to Zenith, but a few of the tricks he'd caught onto had worked despite that. It was how he was posing as a lesser Earth mage after all.
"She's busy as usual," the princess sighed. "But I'll definitely be going to her if I can't figure it out on my own."
Unsaid was her coming to him if that didn't work, but he didn't mind not being her first choice. He wasn't proficient in healing magic, he was just savvy with a different world's magic. Emmeryn and any other experienced healer would be far better help. Nicola was just good at providing different perspectives.
The princess and spearman chatted for a short while longer before parting for the day. They would meet again towards the end of the week and continue from there.
Other things decorated his peaceful days as well. He took the time to further warn Chrom about Loki and her capabilities, asking the prince to relay the information to Emmeryn as quickly as possible in the event that he could not secure an audience within a reasonable time frame. Once that was done, he took the time to read Sieg's letter to him and nearly threw out the parcel that came with it. The letter left him both surprised and tentative hopefully, but that was nothing compared to the painful nostalgia from the second item in the letter's envelope: an old photograph of the Order of Heroes, Veronica and Laevatein months before H—the Host of the Dead he amended—arrived, courtesy of one of the Annas. It brought a sad smile to his face as he looked at the bright smiles he and Sharena shared in the picture. Commander Anna winked and Alfonse gave an awkward grin while Fjorm and her siblings gave small smiles. Laevatein 'smiled' by raising the sides of her mouth with her index fingers while Veronica wore a dour expression. There had been a second photograph, of Veronica flailing as an awkward blushing mess after she'd been 'nudged' into Alfonse, but it had been lost so it seemed.
Judging by the sender, Nicola had an inkling of what was within the package accompanying the letter. The problem was that he couldn't bring himself to open it, he wasn't ready to as he thought he would be. Instead, he hid the parcel within the dresser the guest room had and made a mental note to retrieve it when he was ready.
He finally had his chess match with Virion, one that evolved into a series of matches with the suave nobleman, Robin and Morgan. The noble had been somewhat disappointed by their first match, claiming an easy victory over Nicola's green but well intentioned moves. He was then taken aback when the dark haired youth won the next match by making a wild series of moves that appeared to have no rhyme or reason to them. Nicola shrugged when asked how that had even worked, he had just followed his gut and that led to a wild number of follow up matches until both Morgan and Robin caught wind of their odd games. From there, Nicola was forced to brush up on the rules of chess as the four of them played semi-competitively over the next few weeks. By the end of that, Nicola wouldn't have said he enjoyed chess but he wasn't nearly as apprehensive of it as he had been months prior. He just wasn't going to start any games of his own volition any time soon.
Beyond that, life continued at a languid, peaceful pace. Weeks became months and the seasons shifted from a warm summer to a cool autumn. Bright green leaves turned to varying shades of red, orange and yellow as fallen leaves decorated the halidom.
Nicola had managed to remain in the Mage's College, much to the displeasure of many of his peers. He didn't need to stay in the school, but the novelty of a formal education kept him from leaving on his own accord. He wasn't at the top of his class, though not due to his academics. Instead it was the limited number of spells he could cast that held him back, only being able to cast two spells where most of his peers were on their third or had advanced to second tier magics.
"Mr. Apollonia, we've had this discussion before," the academy dean began. "Are you certain you cannot cast a new spell?"
"Not one that would be acceptable by the school's standards," the lad replied, shaking his head. The older man sighed. This was the third time he'd spoken with the fledgling mage about his spell repertoire or lack thereof rather. This was also the third time he'd received that answer. 'Stone' and 'Discus' were above average in terms of power for beginner spells, but they also weren't in any of the books within the school. The dean knew, he'd read through them all over several decades and reviewed each addition to the school's library before they were added. If he didn't know any better he'd believe they were fabricated spells, but they followed all of the rules of elemental magics.
"And what would be the next spell you could cast? Why is it so-"
"Petrify and Luna."
"Ah, unacceptable indeed." To his credit, the dean did not do more than raise an eyebrow. He recognized both spells, though they were far more powerful than he'd expected from the strange lad. He did not need students being turned to stone on his watch. He also didn't need them being cut in two or severely injured by thin blades of propelled magic. The latter was particularly dangerous because it could cleave clean through the finest defenses like a knife through butter, better than the martial technique sharing its name. "And you are certain those are the spells that have come to mind when attempting to further your progress as a mage?"
Rather than speak, Nicola opened his spell book and revealed the magic circles he'd scribed within. By memory, rather than by study, judging by how the runic symbols and spell syntax differed greatly from the versions the dean knew from his studies. The first was a standard magical circle decorated with archaic runes that symbolized the chained earth and the power that rested within it, completed by a large open eye in the center with an empty pupil. He couldn't actually read the words the lad had written, they were a cypher-like combination of Ylissean and at least one foreign language interspersed within and around the magic circle. The second was a far more complex circle with three layers. The outer layer was comprised of repeating runes and the same cypher-like mix of languages, with six smaller seals in the space between itself and the second layer. The second layer held runes for shaping and controlling the potency of the spell, specifying how much power the spell could output and any given time, The third layer held a nonagram within its center and a wickedly thin crescent moon within its largest section. The nine smaller points each held earth runes, all equal in power.
Quite different and entirely functional, but extremely taxing. That was the flaw in each spell the dark haired youth scribed: they were at least twice as taxing as spells of similar power, making it near impossible for other mages to utilize them or want to for that matter. No practitioner of the art would want to cast spells that completely spent their magical stores, they weren't healers or clerics who used their vitality to restore others. Still, the fact that he could use these rather draining formulae for spellcraft without too much of an issue was fascinating. The dean could count the number of Sages other than himself he knew capable of doing so on a single hand, excluding extreme outliers like Ricken or his former protégé, Miriel. That further excluded the current Exalt, who stood in a league of her own.
It was sufficient to say that Nicola had great potential, but was a diamond in the rough. He wasn't going to progress, at least as an Earth Mage, without refining his technique and spell formulae. Otherwise he would be limited to a scant few spells, the most powerful of which far outside his grasp. The senior mage did not tell that to Nicola, the lad needed to figure that out on his own. It would have also helped had he not been considered an enemy of the church, the subtle pressure the Hierarch was attempting to place on the academy for even admitting him could already be felt. Less clerics available to heal the injured—each one having "gone on leave"—meant less practical field exercises and severely limited numbers of spars and spell duels. It was frankly rather unreasonable: Nicola clearly wasn't opposed to the church or its teachings, though he wasn't the most devout person either. That shouldn't have mattered and, with the way the Hierarch was going about applying his pressure, the Exalt could not intervene on their behalf. After all, it would be a great overreach on her part to demand people allowed leave to return on such short notice without an emergency.
What should have mattered was his Dark affinity, but even that shouldn't have been an issue if he was capable of learning any of the Elemental Magics. Clearly, something was afoot and the dean wanted to know what that was before he made any decisions regarding a promising student's fate.
Academia aside, Nicola's life had become far more peaceful—particularly when Maribelle was gone and their combined misfortune didn't practically throw everything and the kitchen sink at them. It was like a weight was lifted from his shoulders, the fiery noble woman no longer around to poke and prod at him and vice versa. Their mutual dislike for one another had diminished after Lissa caught wind of their feud and forced them to make up shortly before the noblewoman returned to her duchy the first time after they'd been introduced. Then they had been made to do nice things for one another, which nearly ended disastrously when they were still at each other's throats over the smallest of slights. Several months and the attentive gaze of the younger princess gradually turned their animosity into a sort of frosty acquaintanceship. They absolutely were not friends, but they could be trusted to defend one another when the time came and they could do nice things for each other more frequently, though not without pulling teeth more often than not.
Lissa approved and they agreed that it was the only thing that mattered. Well, that and a lack of Phila's disapproval. The Wing Commander had made it quite clear that she would not be above taking them both to task if they caused trouble as opposed to trouble finding them.
It was rather unfortunate that neither saw the fire storm heading their way in the not so distant future.
"This is for you, oaf," Maribelle grumbled one day, depositing a sizable package in his hands. Her irate look told him he'd caused her a great deal of trouble in some way, but she refused to elaborate on it. That was just the way things were. Nicola had learned to read the noble woman's expressions as if they were a second set of words and her vice versa. The two often exchanged what appeared to be heated glares and sharp looks, but it was how they greeted and communicated across large rooms or when too busy to actually speak. There wasn't a system or set list of expressions, it was more a matter of reading the intent behind each one. They just happened to default to glares and sharp looks.
The package contained yet another set of clothing, one that appeared to have been custom tailored for him, which was surprising to say the least. Maribelle had never been in a position to get his measurements and most of the clothes he bought had been based on close approximations of what would fit him.
The outfit consisted of dark grey slacks and a primarily black vest with golden buttons and diamond quilted blue fabric along the upper half. A matching blue shoulder cape with a pair of black tails of leather adorned with what appeared to be golden spearheads at the end accompanied a white button up shirt with blue diamonds along the cuffs. A sea green scarf that matched the former summoner's hair and a black tie helped give the garb a more professional look, further accented by the dark grey gloves that matched the slacks and a pair of dress shoes.
It was a wholly unexpected gift, but it was absolutely Nicola's style. He figured he was supposed to fuss with his hair to make himself look more presentable, like a steward would, to complete the look. He did not, instead opting to go without the tie, scarf or dress shoes. In place of the shoes he wore his old combat boots from home and he elected to leave the upper two buttons of his new shirt undone while leaving his unruly hair mostly untouched. He needed to make a correction: this was his style, a mix of daring and refined rather than either on their own.
It certainly beat wearing his coat and being near unidentifiable with it on.
His gift to Maribelle was a more of a belated thank you for her aid in acquiring his sketchpad. It was a surprisingly lifelike hand drawn portrait of her, given life and depth by soft watercolors and shadows. It had taken him a full week and a half, along with three scrapped drafts, to finish. The picture depicted the noblewoman with a stern yet refined expression. Her wine colored eyes were calm, but by no means subdued, and her golden blonde hair blew in a breeze against a plum and rose colored cloudy sky.
"Heya Nico-" The spearman looked up when he heard Lissa approach, though he also felt another person with her. When he looked her way he found her slack jawed and staring. Why? He didn't look that different. Perhaps more comfortable, but he otherwise looked the same.
"Darling, you cannot simply come to a stop in the middle of the walkway, people will-" Like Lissa, Maribelle froze when she saw Nicola. Then the unbelievable happened: the noblewoman blushed shyly and looked away. That was certainly new, he tended to not garner that sort of reaction considering how handsome or beautiful his peers were. It was honestly disconcerting.
"Er... hello," he offered, snapping the princess from her brief stupor.
"Oh! Heya Nicola," Lissa tried for the second time, managing to not trip over herself. "Nice clothes."
"Ah, yeah. Maribelle got them for me. They're rather comfortable."
"Of course they would be," the noble woman scoffed, returning to her usual self. "It was rather easy to find something that would suit you, more than the odd garb you normally wore."
He could agree there. His cargo pants and striped shirt had grown more and more ragged as time passed, even with him regularly taking time to maintain them. That was about as much as he could do with his sewing skill, he wasn't a master tailor and had no training under a professional. His other clothes had just been sturdy, but plain looking. Enough to be passable, but nothing as nice as the gifted outfit.
That didn't change the fact that the noblewoman had figured out his measurements. When asked about that, Maribelle merely gave a sharp look and said nothing more. He'd chalk it up to magic or something else then. She could keep her secrets, they weren't the most important thing.
"I take it this is a shorter visit," Nicola said conversationally.
"Indeed. I'm simply here to check on the capital's affairs and see if they match the trends in my home," Maribelle nodded, face uncharacteristically grim. "Unfortunately, it appears they do and I must take a hard stance to see them dealt with."
That was something of note, Maribelle never looked grim. Her visible moods, from what Nicola had seen, alternated between schooled haughtiness and incendiary when Lissa wasn't involved. It didn't take him very long to realize that the former was a mask of sorts, occasionally cracking when she felt embarrassed or surprised. To see her look seriously concerned over something was worrying, especially if she was noticing something fairly large in scale.
"Huh? You didn't mention that when you arrived," Lissa blinked. "Is everything alright?"
"I didn't wish to worry you, dear," Maribelle replied, offering the princess a warm smile with a tinge of sadness. "As for the state of things in my duchy, I cannot say. Something is happening, pieces and people are moving to an unknown conductor's tune and I cannot find any more than that."
That made Nicola's blood run cold.
"Lissa, can you set an audience with Emmeryn now," he asked, voice rougher than usual. Enough that both the princess and noblewoman looked his way.
"I can try, but she may be busy."
"Please do so now if possible."
"Okay?" Suffice to say, the princess was weirded out by the sudden shift in demeanor. Nicola was thankful she didn't ask questions before making her way towards her sister. Maribelle did.
"Was there a reason you sent Lissa away oa-Nicola?" The noblewoman corrected herself upon seeing his serious expression. "You know something."
"I may. It depends entirely on what you've noticed," he confirmed. "The reason I called for an audience with Lady Emmeryn is because this may be the work of someone I'm all too familiar with. If it is, we need to nip their machinations in the bud before they sprout into ugly, messy problems lacking clean solutions."
The last thing that needed to happen was Loki playing this world's nations like a fiddle. At that moment he was glad he'd spoken with Chrom about her months prior, giving Ylisstol and Regna Ferox some knowledge in dealing with her. He emphasized her ability to change her appearance at the drop of a hat, which was a damn crucial detail when dealing with the enigmatic woman. Unfortunately, he couldn't provide any solutions to pointing her out while she was disguised.
He could do it on instinct, but only because she stabbed him and nearly killed him back when he could not. He wouldn't wish that on anyone else, but he also couldn't be everywhere at once to root her out. Even then, he wasn't so sure he could catch her, Loki was a master of escaping or vanishing just in the nick of time, as if aided by some form of divine providence.
She cheats.
That was perhaps the simplest and best way to put it. He'd cornered her before, after the war with Surtr finally drew to a close, but she vanished without a trace. The then begrudging Veronica later confirmed that no spell had been cast. She'd gone further, stating that any remote spell capable of reaching into the depths of Muspel's castle from the outside would have not only been visible, they would have all felt it long before it went off.
It was infuriating. Each time thereafter, Loki would appear and disappear as she pleased, often mocking the Order of Heroes' efforts while sowing the seeds of chaos to be reaped at the least opportune of moments. He hoped to Naga and whatever other benevolent deities watched over him that it wasn't the case now. Things would get bloody very quickly otherwise, especially if she was aligned with Plegia or Rigel.
Lissa returned moments later. "Emm's freed up some time, but not much. You'll need to see her now if you want that audience."
"We'd better hurry then." With that the trio made their way to the ruler's audience chamber, where Emmeryn, Phila and a familiar looking clergyman waited. Nicola's eyes narrowed to amber points at the sight of the man, matching the look the man gave him.
"I see that you still fraternize with this monster," the man spat, causing Lissa to bristle. The princess nearly bit out a response, but stopped as Emmeryn raised a hand.
"Now is not the time or place for such arguments or claims, Pontiff," the tired looking ruler breathed before addressing Nicola. "You requested an emergency audience, Nicola?"
"I did," he nodded. "Lady Maribelle mentioned something that caught my attention and I felt it prudent to bring it to your attention sooner rather than later. Maribelle, if you would?"
The noblewoman ignored the breach in decorum as she said her piece.
"As Sir Apollonia-"
"That thing deserves no title," the Pontiff interrupted, only to be cowed briefly by a frigid glare from both the Exalt and Phila. Then his voice returned to him and he continued. "It wears the skin of a man, but is no better than one of those Valmese terrors or the horrors wrought by the Grimleal."
"Pontiff, that is enough," the Wing Commander stated, her voice filling the chamber despite her measured volume. "You may air your grievances another-"
"He has the very touch of Death upon him like that cursed noblewoman does," the elderly man shouted, pointing between him and Maribelle. The noblewoman's serious expression evaporated in an instant, replaced by a pained look that morphed to scarlet rage. "Or did you ignore the damage those two caused when you placed them together? The Hierarch-"
"Is not present and would have held his arguments until after news was delivered, Pontiff," Emmeryn intoned, even the tiniest hint of emotion leaving her voice. Her emerald eyes were glacial.
"Your father wouldn't have allowed such filth to roam," the man spat, turning his ire to the Exalt. That was when the room exploded with different temperatures and auras. Heatwaves and pressure washed across the room from Phila, who radiated cold fury, only to be beaten back by explosive incendiary heat from Maribelle. Chilling cold, like frozen mist, rolled from the Pontiff, pushing back against the burning auras as the older man stood his ground.
The air was nearly impossible to breathe, the rapid fluctuations in temperature as auras collided all but forcing air from Nicola's lungs. His own aura prevented him from falling, swirling just around him until he could acclimate to the changes in the room. Lissa was less fortunate, her own aura sputtering like a dying candle as she fell to a knee.
That wouldn't do. Not at all.
"That's enough," Nicola boomed. The entire chamber shook as billowing darkness flooded the room, devouring the warring heat and cold in an instant. The pressure in the air vanished as all eyes turned to Nicola, a multitude of expressions greeting him. Phila looked surprised and somewhat ashamed; Maribelle taken aback and the Pontiff terrified. Only Emmeryn remained unaffected as her once emerald eyes shone lilac. He imagined his eyes were amber at that point as irritation practically radiated from his form. Lissa gave him a wide eyed look as he offered her a hand, the blonde princess visibly shaking as she gingerly took hold of the outstretched limb.
"Deep breathes," he directed, voice eerily calm even to himself. "In through the nose, hold for six counts, then out through the mouth."
As the princess followed those instructions, he turned his attention to the Pontiff. The older man blustered as his knees knocked. He was certainly more bark than bite.
"Is that not sign enough that he is a mon-"
"Shut up, worm." "Be silent, Pontiff."
The older man clammed up as both Emmeryn and the former summoner spoke, the former directing his ire towards the man while the latter applied measured authority to her words. The ruler raised an eyebrow at Nicola's choice of words, but it was the least concerning thing at the time.
"Nicola, please drop your aura. It's beginning to grow oppressive," the ruler said matter of factly, words clipped. Nicola inclined his head and the dark covering the room vanished as quickly as it appeared.
"My apologies, I grew rather heated, Lady Exalt."
"We all did," Emmeryn breathed. "Pontiff, you are dismissed. It appears you cannot hold your peace or still your tongue despite. I will hear your complaints about my guest's continued presence at another time, perhaps with the Hierarch present. Clearly, you do not respect my authority, but you may respect his."
"T-that's unnecessary, m-milady-"
The Exalt gave a bladed smile as her violet eyes focused on him. "Pontiff, please leave."
The clergyman visibly flinched and took a step back, then another. He soon fled the audience chamber in silence.
"Milady, that was unnecessary," Phila began, contrition visible in the way she held herself.
"I will concede that point, Phila, but I am feeling rather cross at the moment," the ruler said, closing her eyes to massage her eyelids. When she opened them once more, they were emerald once again. "Let us all take a moment to recollect ourselves, then continue."
It was the reasonable thing to do and it allowed some of the remaining tension to drain from the room.
"Are the both of you alright," Nicola asked, addressing both Lissa and Maribelle.
"I'll be fine," the princess replied between slow, deep breaths. "I was just overwhelmed."
"I'm sorry, Lissa," Maribelle apologized. "I lost my temper from the discourteous manner in which the Pontiff addressed all in the room."
"It's fine," Lissa managed.
"It is not, but thank you for saying otherwise, my dear."
"I, too, owe an apology," Phila began. "I dislike the Pontiff a great deal and I allowed that to color my actions when I should have remained calm and collected."
"Again, it's fine," Lissa sighed. "He's been an arse since I can remember compared to the Hierarch and other members of the clergy."
"Language, dear," Maribelle chided as Phila made a face. It wasn't as if the Wing Commander disagreed, but she would have phrased things differently. Lissa simply rolled her eyes in response.
"On that note, I believe we should continue with the topic that brought us here," Emmeryn gently prodded. "As much as I would like to take as long as needed to discuss this matter, I sadly do not have the time."
"Understood, Lady Exalt," Maribelle nodded before posing a question. "Do you recall the matter that I asked to look into upon announcing my arrival?"
"The lessening of raids from bandits tied with an upsurge in outer territories ceasing to respond to missives, yes."
"Indeed. I came to verify if the same was happening within Ylisstol's outer reaches as it was in Themis. With your permission, I've been looking into the subject over the past few weeks and I've found what would normally be inconclusive information."
"Normally inconclusive," Emmeryn repeated, signaling for the noblewoman to elaborate.
"The area surrounding Ylisstol gets less bandit attacks by default so declining or fluctuating numbers in them is far less apparent than they are closer to the border we share with Plegia. Similarly, the towns and villages near the outer reaches of the capital's territory are rather active given that your workload appears to have not sharply declined over the past few months."
"That is correct, though there has been a decline..."
"Due to the sharp decline in criminal activity within the halidom, no?"
The Exalt blinked then gave a slight nod. "Yes, I receive regular reports from agents monitoring the activity of said groups in hopes of gathering enough evidence of criminal activity and getting a good enough grasp on their movements to preempt them. Those agents have recently fallen silent, but the larger movers among the criminal groups have similarly fallen silent."
"I feared as such. I've heard similar from the other duchies, but it appears they haven't had the time or felt the need to contact you in that regard."
"I've heard two similar reports from the seven duchies other than Themis, but both were praising the decline in crime and disturbances. Duke Ariel of Thalassa and Duchess Alexandra of Tethys both praised the decline and yet you see an issue."
"I would not have if I hadn't gotten a report of a large force nearing the border from Plegia's side of things, mere days away, only for them to disappear into thin air. No amount of surveying the area gave any sign of said force, even after several days. Shortly after that was when the bandit raids stopped and small settlements near Themis' outskirts ceased communicating."
"And I imagine you and your father checked in on them?"
"Yes and they were perfectly fine, but had allegedly received no missive or notice. Similarly, the messengers and familiars sent to deliver said messages returned with no message or recollection of having been sent."
Emmeryn frowned deeply. "Even familiars? You are certain?"
"Yes, milady. While I cannot guarantee that similar is occurring in other duchies, the dates reported for when all criminal activity and banditry ceased all line up within a three day span."
"Too uniform to be natural," the ruler concluded. "I agree, that is concerning. With that in mind, why did Nicola call for the audience rather than yourself?"
"I'll allow him to explain." Once more, all eyes in the room turned to Nicola, whose expression had grown dark.
"This sounds like something a person from my homeland would be able to orchestrate," he began. "I believe you've been informed of her by Chrom, but I am willing to go over that information again if needed. Normally, I would have dismissed this as undue concern until proven otherwise, but this has her name all over it."
"The one Chrom referred to as Loki," Phila frowned as the former summoner nodded. "And you say you would have dismissed this series of events until recently. Why?"
"Because she's far more subtle in her works than this more often than not, but this is both on the scale and in the manner she operates," he explained. "Loki is a master of subtlety, to the point where she could infiltrate nearly any location given enough time to get a read on it. This is the opposite of her usual M.O-."
"M.O.?"
"Modus Operandi, her usual way of doing things. From what I know of Loki, she wouldn't pull something like this so openly without a second or third layer to this that isn't visible. I'm of the mind that she wants this to be noticed and I can only assume that there is some form of trap because of that. I cannot say where it is or to whom it is targeting, but this is far too conveniently visible for it to not be part of a greater scheme."
"That is a great deal to take in," the Exalt frowned. "And you have no doubt that it is her."
"I can't think of anyone else and I'm trying to figure out how she made it here. I was certain I was the only one who survived that battle until recently." He glared at the ground. Clearly, the rules of Zenith did not apply to Loki. Unfortunate. He would have preferred that she die than deal with her at the present.
He took a deep breath. The inner voice was rather clearly aligned with him in regard to the elusive trickster.
She plays by her own rules and treats people as if they are toys to be dashed against rocks when she is done with them. What is there to not dislike?
Fair enough. He'd need to find the magenta haired woman and get rid of her—or at least get her to fully withdraw from the land. That was far more reasonable, given her ability to weasel out of precarious predicaments.
"Nicola, is there anyone else from your homeland that we should be aware of, anyone else who could cause problems on this scale," Phila pressed.
"None that I can presently identify as being here, Wing Commander. I can think of one, but I do not believe they could reach this land, not without it being incredibly obvious that they've appeared. Should I get any inkling of their arrival or feel that they have a chance of appearing, I will allow you and the Exalt to know as soon as I can."
"Can I get a name?"
"You may not, not without giving them power." That was apparently the wrong answer as the older woman stomped forward, ready to press forward until a cloaked figure burst into the audience chamber.
"A message for the Lady Exalt," they gasped. "The Themis duchy has been put to the torch!"
"What?" Emmeryn's calm expression shifted to deeply concerned.
"What!?" Maribelle's face contorted with surprise and fury.
"A familiar arrived moments ago stating that the Duke of Themis was evacuating citizens to his manse as unknown forces appeared from thin air and began targeting buildings and structures with pinpoint fire and lightning spells. It's estimated that hundreds, if not thousands were injured or killed in the sudden attack and-"
"Lady Exalt, we have a problem," a second messenger announced behind the first one. "An unknown force has crossed the Ylissean-Plegian Border and refuses to respond to any attempts to hail them!"
"Do they bear the heraldry of Plegia or the Grimleal?"
"No milady, they bear none at all and move far too quickly to be any mundane force."
"Then we need to mobilize the Pegasus Knights and meet them before they get too far into our territory," Phila stated. "Lady Emmeryn, if I may?"
"Please do, Phila. I have things I need to prepare for," Emmeryn directed. She then pointed to the first messenger. "Deliver your message to Prince Chrom post haste, he will be in the Shepherds Barracks with Frederick and his compatriots."
The messenger nodded and bolted from the room.
"I also need to make haste," Maribelle said briskly, stalking out of the chamber.
"Maribelle, wait," Nicola called.
"My people are in danger and you would have me wait!?"
"Not for long," the former summoner answered. "I'll accompany you."
"That will be unnecessar-"
"Maribelle, I'm not letting you ride off on your own when someone from my world is causing trouble in your domain," he snapped. "We may have our differences, but I'm not letting you dive head first into a clear trap."
"I'll join you the-"
"Absolutely not." "Not for this Lissa."
"But why?"
"Because I can only protect a single person and Maribelle plans on heading into the thick of a dangerous situation. Your presence would be more useful with the Shepherds than with us, both as a healer and from their sheer numbers."
"I can take care of myself." The princess started forward, but the spearman halted her with a gesture.
"I know Lissa, but I'd rather you be safe near someone like Frederick or Chrom than in danger around me. Maribelle and I attract enough trouble on our own, I wouldn't want you to be caught up in that."
"He's right, darling," Maribelle added. "He isn't disparaging your skill, he's well aware of how much of a talented healer you are. That doesn't mean that you are ready for such a dangerous trek with minimal protection."
"But-" The princess began, only to be cut off a final time by her noblewoman.
"Please, Lissa. Listen to us just this once." When the princess stopped, Maribelle gave a sad nod. "Come Nicola."
"Right."
Nicola followed after the noblewoman, but made a quick detour to collect Demna, his travel pack and his newly acquired scarf. The latter would be a boon in traversing smoke filled areas. He briefly contemplated opening the parcel from Sieg, but felt it still wasn't the time. If it contained what he believed it did, he did not need its power yet.
He rejoined Maribelle near the castle's stables. Her own horse was already fit for riding, but she was in the middle of fitting another for him.
"Don't."
"If you expect to ride with me, you are sorely mistaken," the noblewoman retorted. "That will slow us down more than I can allow."
"Unless it's a trained warhorse, it's going to panic if I approach. I'll keep up on foot."
"You'll do what?"
"I'll keep up on foot."
"My duchy is at least a full day away at a swift pace. You cannot-"
"Maribelle, I'll be fine," Nicola growled. "Are you ready?"
"As ready as I can be," the noblewoman huffed, moving to mount her steed. Once she was fully mounted, the two set out.
"Lady Loki, the Summoner has taken the bait," an monotonous voice stated. "The Ylisseans are mobilizing their Shepherds and Pegasus Knights as well, preparing to intercept the Pawns Dame Claudius has prepared."
"Good, but keep me informed on the Summoner's movements. He has a nasty habit of pulling the unexpected if left to his own devices," the magenta haired general returned, a sly smirk present on her face. "In the meantime, are Claudius' puppets truly ready? They've done rather well in the limited scenarios we've tested them in, but I can't help but wonder if they will falter in the field proper."
"I cannot say, my observations of them are limited to the little I've seen, Lady Loki," the monotonous voice replied. "Marduk is accompanying them, so I have no doubt that they will fulfill their objective without fail."
Loki clicked her tongue. "Still an emotionless doll, are you? How dull."
"Emotions cloud my calculations, Lady Loki. They are unnecessary unless I am required to defend myself from direct harm."
The magenta haired woman rolled her eyes. The servant the Fell Dragon had gifted her was boring, for all that it was useful. It had limited opinions and only spoke when directed to, like an automaton rather than a grotesque amalgamation of death and magic forced into a still living host. Still, it made her machinations far easier to pull off and she adored it for that. After all an emotionless doll was worthy of affection and praise on occasion, especially when it proved itself useful. She would just need to make the doll more entertaining to be around or she would go as mad as her benefactor.
A/N: This took four days to finish rather than the rough estimate of two weeks I imagined. Being motivated to write and having things line up to get the bulk of said writing done was a nice experience. I had to partially rewrite earlier parts of the chapter and add details that I omitted to make things make more sense and cut things a little shorter than part of me wanted to. In exchange, next chapter can focus on the first big divergence and the conflicts associated with it rather than putting half of that into this chapter and jumping it to upwards of 11k words. Once said conflicts reach their conclusion there will be another interlude, one I've been waiting to write for a long while, that is possibly on the shorter end of things length wise.
In any case, if you like this story and want to find more stories by other authors for Fire Emblem and other fandoms alike(many more talented than myself by a decent margin), swing by the Fanfiction Treehouse Discord Server (Code: 9XG3U7a). There are plenty of brilliant writers there and the community is pretty chill. There's also a Podcast on Spotify called the Fanfiction Treehouse Podcast and a YouTube channel by the same name (Fanfiction Treehouse) if either interests you. Regardless, stop by if if you want and I'll see you in the next chapter.