Temptation

Death itself could have ridden with her, and it would have hardly worsened her situation. Once again Cordelia had maneuvered herself into a last job that never ended. And Lucina hadn't even needed to spare her life or give one of her famous speeches to ensnare her this time. Far worse, she had dangled the impossible prize in front of Cordelia's face, and like a dutiful soldier she had fallen for the trick again.

Ike led his horse to drink next to her. After too many days in the ancient dimness of Tellius' spruce forests, the canopy had finally thinned and they stood at the pebble bank of the White River. In a few weeks, chunks of ice drifting downstream from the eastern mountains would justify the river's name, but for now the waters served as little more than a gurgling barrier between them and northern Tellius. A barrier that, thanks to the destroyed bridge in front of them, might as well span the width of an ocean.

Truly, some jobs never ended.

"There is no one left in Tellius who can spare the resources to retain roads or bridges," Ares said.

Next to him, Lucina clutched her horse for support. Her foot slipped on the wet scree. "There has to be another way."

"The next bridge lies a three-days' journey upstream."

"Three days upstream and three days back. Six in total…" Lucina's voice fell to a near-whisper, and Ares joined in the conspiracy. Despite the exhausting pace of their journey and despite the handful of posts drowning in the current in a miserable memory of the bridge that had stood here once, they were talking like old friends. Twice, something eerily similar to a smile formed on Ares' face.

Ike ground his teeth, kicked a pebble into the river, and Cordelia pretended not to notice. She yanked her horse away from the water. Back then in Talys, she would have earned herself a switch on her fingers for her needlessly tight grip on the reins. But it beat the alternative. Ike knew her too well. And if she dared to look at him for too long, if their gazes met, he would read the truth out of her face: That she had no intention of fighting Validar with them.

She had been drunk and dumb when she had accepted Lucina's invitation at the feast, but she wasn't done living. And she wouldn't stake her life for any of them. Not even for Ike.

"We have wasted so much time already," Lucina was saying when Cordelia joined her and Ares. "The shadows are spreading. Can't you see them?"

"I hope you aren't thinking about swimming," Cordelia said. "The current is too strong for horses. And with one arm, Ares won't make it halfway across either."

Ares spared himself the trouble of commenting.

Lucina didn't seem to notice when Ike offered a silent hand to take over carrying the saddlebags in her arms. She probably didn't notice the tremor in her hands either. They were all weary, and the threat of bandits, Gimleal, and the Black Knight had cost each of them more than one night of sleep, but Lucina seemed to pay for every step with another piece of her flesh and soul. On this pale riverbank, she shared little resemblance with the queen of the Pheraen Empire that would command battalions into slaughter and victory. Cordelia wondered about the change, but only briefly. She wouldn't stay long enough to need answers to that.

No, all she cared about was the content of the saddlebag in Lucina's arms, the content she had been naive enough to present to the group as though shared secrets could buy her loyalties. The outline of a shield bulged through the bag's linen. The stretching of fabric betrayed weight. Lucina always kept the bag close at hand as if she were attached to it, and even while her hands trembled, she ignored Ike's offer to carry the burden.

Cordelia would have act carefully, bide her time until the right moment.

"Ares, you know this land better than anyone," Lucina was saying. "There is another way to reach Validar's tower. You know it."

Ares' expression darkened. Out of the four of them, he had the best poker face, usually. A chill bit into Cordelia's neck.

"I would not take that route if we can avoid it," Ares said.

Ike nodded towards the roaring current. "Can't be worse than swimming through that."

"If you cared for Tellius' history, you would know. The tunnels of Serenes are treacherous."

"A tunnel? Under the river?" A road stretching underneath all these tons of water, many hundred yards in width, might work for a children's tale, not this chained, blood-thirsty world. Even the Pheraen Empire had shied away from such an architectural madness.

"When the snow of the Caernion mountains thaws," Ares said, "the White River grows twice as wide as you see it now. All bridges would become impassible or sink altogether. The people of Tellius built tunnels to connect their villages during those times."

"Then we have our path," Lucina said.

"The majority of the old city of Serenes was built underground. The tunnels twist into entire labyrinths. Bandits and worse creatures roam those halls, and they have become a breeding ground for scum. Going there is asking for death."

"But compared to the nearest bridge, how much time do the tunnels save us?"

Ares' teeth clacked before he answered. "Five days. If we don't lose our way."

"I cannot afford the alternative."

Ike kicked a stone with enough force to startle the horses. "That's a terrible idea and you know it. If this shabby excuse for a bridge here counts for anything, the whole tunnel system will just collapse over our heads. And not even your Naga will bother to dig us up from down there. We're better off with that other bridge Ares mentioned. If that collapses at least three of us have a shot at making it to the other side alive."

"We would lose another five days. We don't have five days."

"And who told you that?"

"Look at the sky. For once, Ike, open your eyes and see."

With that, Lucina killed the discussion. Overhead, the dark lines that had just snaked along the eastern horizon when they had left Leonster had conquered the majority of the sky. If it rained, maybe the sky would be bleeding shadows then.

Complications…

Cordelia lowered her gaze. She needed to get away from these divine games and miracles of Naga's champion. Soon. If she wanted to act, she needed to make her move before the tunnels swallowed them, when Ares' knowledge of old Tellius alone protected them from losing themselves in the labyrinth. Until then she pushed her horse along, avoided looking at Ike, and acted the dutiful soldier.

The last sunbeams darted through the western spruce canopy when they reached the entrance to Serenes. On top of a rocky hill overgrown with moss towered the tallest ash tree Cordelia had ever seen, greater than the proudest masts of Pheraen ships. The space under its branches could house an entire forest of its own, and the scars of millennia ran along the bark. The roots, themselves broader than a horse's body, twisted and reached down to frame a gate into the hill where mossy steps led into the dark.

Here under the ash tree, the air stiffened. There was no more sky to see, no sounds of waves or even the dripple of water, and Cordelia felt trapped before even entering the hill. She had let herself be ensnared again, all thanks to a few gentle words from the woman who did not even hesitate to walk her horse through the gate in the hill and into the jaws of death.

Ike followed. So did Ares.

And after a few heartbeats, Cordelia took the rear.

Ares pulled an ancient mage lamp from his bag, and in its small cone, the four people descended. If the dusty glass orb was as old as it looked, a Tellius mage had built it way back when. Talent and a steady hand were needed to bind sunlight to the crystal inside the glass orb in such a long-lasting spell, so Cordelia had heard, and Asbel had always lamented the lack of fellow magic users in Leonster. At Leif's court, he was the only one trained in the fine arts. Had been the only one.

Cordelia bit deep into her cheek, but her mouth still felt dry as sand.

The path twisted but always led downwards. Every hundred steps or so, a narrow hole in the ceiling reached to the surface and lit the path with a hint of daylight. But as the evening progressed, that shimmer faded too.

Sometimes, other tunnels branched off. Left, left, center, right, halfway left; Cordelia memorized every crossroad and repeated the combination until it came to her as easily as the harp melodies of her youth.

Finally the tunnel widened into an underground hall. Before the fall of Tellius and the rampage of the Black Knight, this had to have been the heart of Serenes. When Ares lifted his lamp above his head, the light bounced from housefronts cut into the stone. Crystals, not unlike Naga's spheres, hung above doorframes and reflected the glow radiating from a great variety of strange mosses. The people of Serenes might have all fled, but the plants they had once cultivated flourished, and peppermint ivies wound wild through crumbling windows. The small, almost translucent fruits hanging between their leaves gave off a hint of their titular peppermint smell, but, although edible, they tasted like nothing. During the rebellion and before, they had occasionally found their way into imperial rations, probably for that exact reason.

But the strangest sight awaited them at the center of the hall. In the middle of Serenes grew a tree. Cordelia had thought it a massive root system spreading from the ceiling, but it bore leaves. Large star-shaped leaves to absorb the glow of the nearby mosses. Against all the logic in the world, this tree was growing upside down, a mirror of the ash tree above Serenes' entrance, and when Cordelia stretched, her fingers combed through the tallest twigs.

Lucina stood at the center of the hall, and the awe on her face was almost infectious. "How is this possible?" she whispered.

"Magic, I assume." Ares turned to observe the many branching tunnels. But he couldn't seem to find one to his liking. "Serenes used to house a great number of magic scholars. Then a war came and they disappeared. I imagine they were all killed."

Ike glared at the tree. "So they were part of those Grimleal."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Does it make a difference when they are dead and history has forgotten them?"

After a few more moments of contemplation and aimless turning, Ares had to admit defeat. He didn't know which tunnel to follow from here. A night of sleep might rouse his memory. Or, more likely, their way out of the tunnels would be decided by tomorrow's luck alone.

Theirs.Not Cordelia's.

She volunteered to take the first watch. A campfire would have drawn too much attention, but the mosses shed enough light to make out the gaping holes where dozens of tunnels dug deeper into Tellius' corpse. Left, left, center, right, halfway left. Once in a while, a shadow moved behind a broken doorframe. But the people of Serenes had no nerves to defend their hall against the four intruders. They might not wear chains or carry the crest of their oppressor, but they lived as slaves all the same. Even so… She brushed the feather attached to her spear.

At least they were home.

After half an hour, the others had fallen asleep. Ares breathed heavily, as though he was fighting a hundred swordsmen even in his dreams. Ike had picked out a spot from where he could watch Lucina, but purposefully or not, she had turned away from him under her blanket.

Cordelia trailed the lines of Ike's face with her eyes, got stuck there. When he slept, he looked the same as nineteen months ago, the same as during all those nights they had kept watch for each other while on the run from the Pheraen Empire. No, not true. Somewhere in his face had emerged a new softness. He would still raise his sword against an army and make the impossible seem doable. But he would no longer give up everything to win.

And this realization terrified her to her core.

She almost forgot her purpose while looking at him. Be there for him, Lucina had said – once this last job ended, maybe she could. Maybe…

Cordelia brushed off this fantasy and rose to her feet. Left, left, center, right, halfway left. She made no sound as she walked over to Lucina and squatted in front of her. In the mosses' strange light, she looked ghostly. As if only the saddlebag she clutched to her chest anchored her to this world.

The buckle of the bag sat lose. She didn't stir as Cordelia lifted the covering, folded back a worn piece of cloth, and revealed the golden shimmer of the Binding Shield. Four stones of brilliant color flared in the dimness, almost blinding with the promises they contained. The keys to open any door and buy any passage. She expected burning heat when she brushed the red stone. But nothing happened. The same chill had radiated from the shield when she had picked it from the shrine at King's Plight.

She had regretted climbing the mountain and subjecting her horse to the merciless cold. When the hut-like shrine came into view, she no longer believed in finding anything but a great disappointment and another dead end. It had been foolish of her to trust in the small lord's words. But in some ways she was relieved. If she had to return to her client with empty hands, she might as well not return at all. At least the job would end then, and she would have all the time in the world to clean the blood from her spear.

With this twisted relief on her cold lips, she opened the door to the shrine, and as soon as she did, she wanted to run. In the middle of the hall stood Roy's fire spirit. Through an open window twirled snowflakes and sizzled to nothing around her. She recognized Cordelia, the spark was clear to see in her eyes. Otherwise her expression revealed nothing while she lifted a fiery arm to point at the shrine's opposite wall.

"Take it," the fire spirit said. "She mustn't have it. Please."

And in the blink of an eye and like the snowflakes around her, she had sizzled to nothing.

Lucina's breath hitched once, maybe from a twist in her dream, but she didn't stop Cordelia from tracing the red stone. Such a small thing that had already caused her more trouble than it was worth. Lifting the lose stone at the shrine wall and reaching for the soft glow inside had only been her first mistake.

In honesty, she understood why Leif had withheld the signet from her when she had placed the shield with the two spheres of green and red on his desk. But the memory still brought a bitter taste to her mouth.

"Nothing could be further from my mind than to keep you here against your will," Leif had said. The shield shone on the desk between them.

"You asked me for one stone, and I brought you two." The hands Cordelia had folded behind her back in military fashion trembled.

"You have done me a great service. That's precisely the reason why. Try to see it from my perspective. Pherae is drowning in unrest. Some bright troublemaker seized the chair of Ostia for themselves, and unless King Rath regains his health swiftly, Pherae may be facing another civil war. Far sooner than any of us wanted. Armed civilians are marching against mages, non-believers, and anyone in possession of a Dualism icon. And this—" Leif gestured at the shield. "—will only cause more trouble."

"I have done all you asked."

"And how many more are there like you? The training grounds of the castle are near deserted. Leonster does not have enough soldiers to defend its people for what will be coming. And as for the stones, I lost the only one who could have drawn out their magic. If you could at least tell me how Asbel—"

"He had a run-in with assassins. It was bad timing."

Leif folded his hands and rested his chin on his golden signet ring. "I see."

He famously didn't wear a sword, and on that day too he sat at his desk with nothing more than a quill at reach. Cordelia still had the knife on her belt. She could lunge forward, cut the signet ring from his finger, scribble a few lines on a parchment in his handwriting, and maybe the lie could get her all the way to a ship bound for Talys. But she hesitated. Maybe because she didn't want to imagine a look of betrayal and disbelief on Leif's face.

That had been her second mistake – thinking of him not as her client but as Leif.

"Let's give ourselves time to think this over," he said. "Three days is all I ask. If by then you are still adamant to go, I will give you my signet and the gold to pay for the passage. But if you have thought Leonster your home even once since you came here, I hope you reconsider."

The hand with the signet ring returned to the papers on the desk, accompanied by the scratching of a quill. Three days.

And look who had showed up in Leonster on the third day.

Cordelia leaned over Lucina's sleeping form. "You really have it all," she whispered. "And you're the only one dumb enough to throw it all away."

Lucina still did not stir, caught in that illusion that she had nothing to fear while her three travel companions surrounded her. The red stone chained Cordelia's eyes. Someone in Terra might feel the same fascination while staring into its depths. She could buy her way onto a ship. No, rather she could buy the ship itself and set sails for Talys. If a Pheraen civil war burned down its palaces and Leonster also, and if Lucina sought to throw her life at Validar's feet, what did it matter to her?

No one put up a fight, not even Lucina's goddess, when Cordelia lifted the red stone from its mold in the shield. Her fist hid its glow, and she rose to her feet.

She made it past Ike and approached her horse, but a rustle of fabric startled her. Someone had noticed her sneaking off. Just like they had noticed her sneaking through that crack in the fence of the training camp, when she had guided her Pegasus by the reins, so sure the cloths around her hooves would muffle the sounds of their escape. Cordelia had to bite back a surge a panic as she slowly turned towards the source of the rustle.

"You always had a bad habit of ducking into the shadows when a fight developed against your liking," Ares said. He sat on his blanket, and although he kept his voice low so far, he could alert Ike and Lucina long before Cordelia untied her horse. "Deserters have an even shorter life-expectancy in Tellius than elsewhere."

"I owe Leif nothing," Cordelia said, proud of the firmness of her voice.

"He accepted you at his court. Despite your questionable methods."

Cordelia nodded at the dark shape of Mystletainn next to Ares. "And it seems I'm not the only one for whom he turns a blind eye."

Ares' gold irises practically glowed as he glared at her. "I have a mission to complete. But if you turn against Leif, I will hunt you down."

"Be his guard dog then. I'm not dying for him. Or anyone."

"Then you choose to die for nothing."

They glared at each other. Neither moved. The red stone pounded like a second heart in Cordelia's fist.

Slowly, driven by the memory of the few times they had trained under Leif's plane trees, she sat down on the cool stone opposite of Ares. No point in tempting Mystletainn's curse. "Many of the soldiers in Leonster wonder why you keep venturing into Tellius," she said. "Asbel called you crazy for it more than once. But it's always been obvious to me."

Ares didn't respond. But his eyes gave him away as they darted from Cordelia to the upturned tree and finally the empty windows cut into the stone where there had stood dusty mage lamps just like his.

"Have you ever been on a ship?" Cordelia asked.

Ares took time to respond. "Once or twice."

"And how was it?"

"The last time was years ago. Leif had only few opportunities to waste his time on adventuring, but he was adamant to reach the southern edge of the world, if it existed. An unusual experience."

"Describe it to me."

"It was… dizzying at first. The ship moved entirely outside of my control. A strong wave could capsize the vessel, and standing at the bow, I wondered whether I disappear in the ocean should I lean forward too far. But I realized it did not matter. There were no castles to fight over or enemies to hunt. Merely the wave crests as they glittered, and the wind striking my face as if to take me whole. I could believe in the silly wish to see the edge of the world then. Whatever blood we spill, the battles we lose, the molds we are expected to fill – none of it matters there."

"And is it so wrong to want that same feeling?"

Ares flexed the fingers of his hand. "Running away won't change anything."

"You know, a very dumb man once told me that I can fight the fight for my home as long as I have hands to hold a weapon. But the fighting's done. No thanks to me. Someone else held the weapon and won the glory. So tell me, Ares, what else is there? When you're done with Validar and the Black Knight and every foe in between, what will there be for you?"

Again Ares flexed his fingers. On one of them flashed an exact replica of Leif's signet ring. He too seemed to notice its weight for the first time, and although he took a moment to study its golden face, in the end his hand was made to hold a weapon and unerringly closed around Mystletainn's black hilt.

"When I am done," he said, "I won't need to hide away on a ship to be at peace."

Paired with Ares' expression, it sounded like a threat.

Cordelia had hoped for a clean get-away, but if she wanted to escape the dreadful tunnels and whatever horrors awaited them afterwards, blood would need to flow. With a well-aimed spear thrust, she might overcome Ares. The first hit would have to count. If he blocked or dodged, the noise would rouse Ike and Lucina.

She had promised Tiki to do better. So many times that the words had turned into a tired litany. And imagining Ike or Lucina or Ares with the same look of certain death as Asbel had given her – it was too much.

In a hoarse voice Cordelia said, "Since you're awake already, you might as well take over the watch. Make sure I don't run away."

She didn't wait for Ares' response and threw her head down. The red stone dug into her palm despite its smooth surface; her get-away permit should complications pile up. If they lived through Validar, fine, then Leif might finally give her that signet. But if Validar proved too great a foe… Cordelia could still make it to Talys. Lies had gotten her this far, why not buy another one with the stone? Even if she had to extend the lie to herself and pretend she didn't care.

The soft glow of mosses still illuminated the cave when Ares woke Lucina for her watch. She couldn't say how much time had passed, but she felt no less exhausted than when she had placed her head onto her folded cape. The weight of the Binding Shield in her lap reassured her, despite the feeling of falseness. The cold creeping inside had grown more vicious teeth.

She walked past the blanketed forms of her companions and stared into the dimness. Almost a dozen tunnel entrances gaped between Serenes' housefronts, sometimes half hidden by debris, sometimes beckoning her with wide arms to lose herself in their embrace. She could tell the right path no more than Ares could. A whispered prayer fled from her lips and she still could not tell the right path. To believe that the next dawn alone would tickle Ares' memory was illustrious.

She walked to ease her mind, walked to escape memories of a grave and a dagger, walked to prove to herself that she still could. The leaves of the upturned tree rustled not once. One tunnel entrance was like another, and from nowhere did she feel a breeze brushing her face. The tunnels wound too deeply, the path twisted too far, and she felt cold in her skin, so cold.

Cold. But never lonely.

The keys must be willingly given. Such was the rule. It had rained hailstorms, fire had dawned, the pieces all neared their fated spot. Many tribulations had shaken the great plan, twice she had been forced to discard a piece early, but soon the time was neigh, and the tool would finally unite with its master. The tool had nicked a few times along the way, but she had expected that. It would not matter once the light was rebirthed into this world.

They would all see then. Soon, when the keys were willingly given…

Lucina jerked to reality, brushing her arms. One of the horses neighed nearby. It was a sound of the ordinary, a sound as ordinary and calming as the easy breaths of Cordelia, Ares and Ike. Listening calmed her. So she did just that.

And slowly she realized how much the great hall of Serenes differed from the stones of a grave that haunted her mind. The dimness overflew with uncounted sensations. A tiny lizard creature hissed at her from amidst a patch of mosses before scurrying away. Next to the cool staleness of the air, her nose tickled with a scent of lavender from the upturned tree's bark, even though its leaves smelled of syrup. From somewhere sounded a dripple of water. And Lucina almost stumbled under all these impressions, she felt she would have to burst from the overload, and yet she clung to every tiny detail. For a moment she indulged in the idea that this hall, Serenes, and the whole of the world existed only for her to wander across.

How greedy. How selfish.

Lucina shook her head, and her thoughts cleared ever so slightly. To simply exist and absorb was tempting, but she couldn't lose sight of the goal. Her time was running short.

If only she could find the path, the ray of sunshine between the trees…

A shadow moved in one of the nearby tunnels. The humanoid figure looked back at her but disappeared before she could make out its face.

Ares had gone back to sleep, and neither Ike nor Cordelia stirred. If Validar or some other enemy lurked in Serenes' stone houses, surely they would have attacked already. The fleeing shadow most likely knew the tunnels better than Ares did. Here presented itself an invaluable opportunity, a gift from Naga to her struggling champion almost. Her worrying had met an end. Lucina hesitated for a moment, but then she followed the shadow, armed only with Falchion at her side.

The tunnel took a sharp turn. The light from the main hall faded with each step. But someone beside Lucina breathed in the darkness. An uneven breath betraying fear or inexperience.

As such, she wasn't surprised when something sharp pressed into her shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" a female voice asked. "Go away!"

Lucina reached for the hostile weapon with her left hand, her fingers closed around an arrow shaft, and in that same breath, she drew Falchion to her attacker's throat.

"If you want someone to surrender," Lucina said, "aim at a vital spot. Never the shoulder. Especially not the left shoulder when your opponent wears their scabbard on the left side and is consequently righthanded."

Her attacker – although her behavior hardly warranted that term – stared at Lucina with eyes of an unusual orange color. They almost glowed cat-like, adjusted to a life underground. The woman held her bow steadily, but the hitch in her breath betrayed that she had never aimed the weapon at anything heavier than a roe deer. She was young. Young enough to know only a Tellius ruled by the Black Knight.

Lucina sheathed Falchion. "I meant no harm."

"You would be the first one," the archer murmured. Her eyes darted from Lucina's elaborate leather scabbard to the arrow in her hand. "Gatrie warned me against outsiders. You shouldn't be here."

"Me and my companions are only passing through Serenes."

"You were loud."

A smile tugged at Lucina's lips. "I suppose we were. You on the other hand know which tunnels to tread to stay quiet, don't you?"

The archer straightened upon the compliment. "I'm the best hunter of the village. No fox has ever heard me. I wanted to go outside tonight too, but then I saw you."

"A village… is it nearby?"

"We keep it hidden from bandits." The archer flinched and ducked away from Lucina. She had realized her mistake. "You're not a bandit. Are you?"

"I think I have enough gold to avoid stealing it."

The archer reached for Falchion's pommel. Maybe she needed to verify that the sword was real. "Then… are you a knight?"

"Something like that."

The archer beamed, and her teeth flashed in the dimness. "I heard stories about knights. Real knights, I mean, not the black one. Is it true that they can fell a bear with one stroke of their sword? Do they really ride on a horse against a wall of men armed with shields and spears?"

During Lucina's short-lived reign over the Pheraen Empire, Ike had ridden against a shield wall once, by himself. He had lost the horse, but the reckless move had bought Soren and his other comrades the time to circle the enemy. The story had entertained many a drinking session at the palace. Then again, Ike had always been quick to weave new stories on her battlefields to replace the old ones.

"A few special knights do," Lucina said.

"I would love to hear more of the stories," the archer said wistfully. "There must be new ones too."

"I would love to tell you, but I'm afraid there is little time. There is something I must do, something I must return to its master…" Lucina paused before finding her words. "Me and my companions are looking to cross underneath the White River. Do you know which tunnel we have to follow to reach the other side?"

"I usually don't go that far north. But a few people at the village should know. Come, let me show you. Oh, and, uhm, can I have my arrow back?"

Like the archer's bow, the arrow had a crude, self-carved look to it. The steel head showed the nicks of an old sword out of which it had been cut. Interestingly, the wood did not seem to stem from the upturned tree in the great hall. Lucina handed the arrow back to its owner.

Perhaps she should have felt uneasy with an armed stranger beside her, and the supposed village might house an ambush party rather than a guide. But she climbed a pile of rubble without hesitation when the archer waved her forward. Ike would have gritted his teeth at the trust with which she followed the invitation. But this wasn't trust. Rather, she walked with indifference to her own skin. A test. How far would fate let her walk before it struck her down?

Lucina barely registered placing one foot before the other until a pile of boulders blocked the tunnel. The archer guided her with her voice through a crack in the barrier, invisible in the darkness.

On the other side, light struck Lucina. Similar to the great hall before, housefronts stuck out of the rock walls, and above every door dangled a mage lamp. The soft orange glow spread warmth like a bonfire across a well and flowerbeds with blooming mosses. In some windows sparkled colorful glass shards. No, not glass. Upon closer inspection, the shards revealed themselves as frozen resin, tainted in all colors from amber to a blue like the unscarred sky. This small village counted less than twenty houses. How much more splendidly had Serenes shone before the Black Knight had seized Tellius? When he had come upon towns and villages with Naga's twisted blessing imbued into his sword.

From holes in the ceiling high above trickled a hint of sunlight. Dawn was approaching. Ares had to have lost his sense of time before waking Lucina for her watch.

Despite the early hour, a handful of villagers already heaved water at the well or sewed pelts for the winter cold. One man before all others stalked about the village wide awake and hurried towards Lucina and the archer as fast as his aged joints allowed.

"Astrid, what were you thinking?" The man grabbed the archer's shoulder. He seemed to debate whether to embrace or slap her. "We all heard the noise, that's no time to go out. And if you had come back with twenty bear pelts, the risk would still have been too great."

The archer, Astrid, looked sideways. "I know how to look after myself. I'm a talented shot, you said it yourself."

"I knew talented knights, once. Do you know where they are now?"

"I can—"

"They are dead."

"But it was not overconfidence that killed them," Lucina said. "Nor was it the trust they put in one another."

For the first time, the villager registered Lucina's presence. He couldn't be older than forty-five, but the past years had stolen the color from his hair, and his shoulders, although still broad, bent forward as though he always ducked away from a malevolent hand looming above.

"You have chosen a poor time to come, traveler," he said. "These tunnels are not as safe for honest people as they used to be."

"I don't seek alms from you," Lucina said. "Merely guidance to reach the other side of the White River."

"May I be so bold as to give you an advice, my lady? Don't go that way."

"But you know the tunnels better than most." Astrid pointed with one of her arrows at Lucina. "I told her, you used to patrol there."

"Validar's henchmen now control the area. Twice last week we heard them on the march through the tunnels. If they find our village, they will only bring an even greater shadow with them. Overconfidence may not have killed Tellius' knights, but that shadow did."

"Due to Validar's corrupting hand," Lucina said.

The villager nodded to himself. His thoughts seemed to run along a different village at a different time. "Not many know of this. There were only rumors…"

"It is that corrupting hand I intend to cut off."

Astrid's eyes glowed with a spark of half-lost awe. "Like a real knight. You will save us with that sword at your side, yes?"

Lucina wished she could agree, to say with all her heart that she acted to liberate villages like this from a man's cruel reign. But it was not the stories and small dreams of people that urged her forward. In pursuit of a miracle, only one path existed and only one price to pay.

The villager noticed Lucina's hesitance. He smiled sadly. "We cannot expect her to live up to legends. But please, stay with us for today. We don't see a knight come by often."

With that, the villager dragged himself to an open housefront where, behind an elevated bed of mosses, stood a table with unbaked clumps of dough. Astrid bounced around him, but he soon grew tired of her excited talking and shooed her away. As for the right path through the tunnels, he seemed more confident sharing this secret with his dough than with Lucina.

She watched him work until his hands had eased into routine. Covered in flour, the fingers worked to knead a loaf of bread.

Lucina handed him a bowl with water from the far end of the table before he could reach for it. "Do you grow the grain for your bread underground as well?"

The villager dipped his hands into the bowl before returning to the dough. "People used to know how to do that. Not anymore, I'm afraid. This is contraband from Pherae. We have to trade five fox pelts for one small sack of flour. Even for generous smugglers, the risk is too high to accept smaller sums."

"And you fear they could sell the location of the village to Validar."

He paused, his hands sunken into the unfinished bread. "So could you now. Will you?"

A proof of Lucina's trustworthiness then. Perhaps that would convince the villager to tell her the way through the tunnels.

"I haven't introduced myself yet," Lucina said. "My name—"

The villager raised a hand to stop her. "If I don't know, I can't reveal it to anyone who might be willing to pay for such an information. You carry a good sword. People with good swords sooner or later find themselves the target of Validar's magic. Or a worse evil."

"And if Validar were to lose the source of his power?"

"That's too fantastic a thought, no?" The villager placed the first loaf aside. Under the clumps of dough, his hands were ridden with battle scars. "If you don't mind me saying this: You could do a lot of good if you stayed. We have a few children who want to learn how to read and write. The roots and oakmosses always appreciate another set of hands to care for them. In the worst case, you could use your sword to protect this village."

Two children chased each other around the well. Their game led them to the makeshift bakery, and under giggles, they each snuck a fingertip of dough from the table. Lucina's throat tightened, even though enough air seeped through the holes in the cave's ceiling. For a moment she considered. Just for one moment she imagined herself free of crown and duty and a dead father's legacy.

"This isn't why I came to Tellius," she said.

"Ah, I expected as much. You said you wanted to fight Validar. It's an honorable wish. But the living can do more to improve the world than the dead can, no?"

Marth had achieved neither the completion of the Binding Shield nor the five credos. Yet the effects of his death still rippled through Archanea and manifested into a tugging in Lucina's own chest. She could have grown up with a father's loving hand to raise her when she stumbled. But if he had lived, would she stand here now on the path of vanquishing Grima's shadows once and for all?

"Gods have the power to improve the world," Lucina said. "One person can only do so much."

"Ah, it's no good to believe in gods in Tellius."

"There's always a reason to believe. To some it is the only warmth they know."

"See where the light of our lamps thins out, at the mouth of the tunnel?" Lucina followed the villager's gesture and nodded. "I fear that's as far as you can find warmth in Tellius. Godly or otherwise. You can see it in all the destroyed villages, in the knights who didn't even receive the honor of a pyre. Even in the fact that Astrid will never have the chance to learn horse riding, no matter for how long she has dreamt of it. The gods are gone, and Naga's Voice dies a slow death in Validar's clutches."

The bowl with water froze in Lucina's hands. The villager placed aside a second loaf, but his movements blurred into nothing. Tiki… No, not Tiki. Leif had mentioned her predecessor. Could it be?

"Sothis is still alive?"

The villager clutched the edge of the table for support. His face showed the lines of war-torn men from a war-torn time who never truly escaped the battlefield, even as they were baking bread for a group of wide-eyed children. The truth was clear to see; he had served as a soldier of Tellius. And if his time in the military had earned him any glory, it had all crumbled away to battle-scarred hands working smuggled flour he could barely afford. The man who could have climbed the ranks to knighthood hid away, buried alive in a small village underground, forgotten from the world. Forced to cut his sword into arrow heads for the hunt of foxes.

Ike found his way to the forefront of Lucina's thoughts. If she failed in her task, he would suffer the same fate. Sword-less and aged before his time or dead like the high legends of Tellius.

"I can only guess," the villager said once he recovered his breath, "but if Validar had killed Naga's Voice, he would let the world know. To prove that not even the gods' best defy him."

"She is alive…"

"I believe it is so. But, ah, it matters little now."

"I can free her…"

Lucina's mind was racing. She could free Sothis from imprisonment like her father had once done for Tiki, when he had shattered the frozen bars of her cell in Johtran. This was no coincidence. He had kept her beside him while searching for the spheres. Back then, he had already known of the price of Naga's champion, he had written the truth into his diary. Tiki had guided him on the path, for that he had invited her to stay at the Glass Fortress. Unless…

Ursula's face flashed before Lucina's eyes. The unreadable smile twisted to form words: "That's the price for a miracle." Magic required sacrifices, but the nature of the sacrifice was the spellcaster's to decide. Ursula had invited Nino and so many others to stay in the shelter of her guild so they might work her magic. And had Ursula not outlived so many others who had borne one of the spheres, Hector, Marth, and Roy?

The wooden bowl pressed against Lucina's palm, slightly sticky from flour, and this touch was so ordinary and wonderous it could bring tears to her eyes. She wanted to experience this ordinary thing a thousand more times.

Sothis was hidden in Validar's tower, like the final sphere, the place where the union would have to take place. The pieces all waited for Lucina.

Was this what Naga wanted?

Lucina clung to the bowl. "Tell me the way through the tunnels."

"Is it that important to you?"

"Nothing has ever been of greater importance."

The villager had to have heard something in her voice, equal parts foreign and resolute. He set his bread aside. "Then I will tell you. But when you go, I ask that you forget this village."

"I won't reveal its location to Validar."

"Not willingly, maybe. You have that aura to you. I've seen it before, many years ago. You inspire people to follow you. But not all of them will share your vision. Please keep that in mind. You might live longer that way."

Yes, and through Sothis, Lucina might even live long enough to see Naga's eternal light dawn over Archanea. The villager leaned over the table and told her which path to follow to make that dream a reality. All the while, the wooden bowl pressed against her skin.

Notes: My apologies for missing the update last week, but this was one of those horror chapters that I have written and rewritten more times than I care to list. The most recent additions should have improved atmosphere and agency by approximately 10%, so cheers to that. The chapter also got so long that I decided to split off Ike's section, hence why the next chapter will be a shorter one. But for thematic weight, I think it works better by itself.

Anyway, thank you for reading, give me your thoughts, I haven't slept in the last three days, and all that jazz you know already.