"How long did Basilio say we must sit up here?" Anje said, holding her hand in front of her face. A small sandstorm had whipped up across the sun-scorched valley, and Anje felt it difficult to see a mere few feet in front of her.

And yet Basilio expects us to be able to see the enemy, let alone my damn weapon. Anje ran her fingers through her disheveled blonde hair, pulling at some of the knots. Skulking through the desert had proved to be a filthy affair, only made worse by how unscathed Olivia seemed to be with her immaculate hair and flowy dancer's outfit. Anje had opted for a form-fitting sleeveless leather cuirass and matching armored leggings in the Feroxi colors-gray and white.

"Basilio said we should be able to hear the Plegian riders that come this way," Olivia insisted. She crouched low on the ground, one hand softly skimming the sandy turf.

"Figured as much, " Anje said, distracted. "Shouldn't be too long now, I hope. I almost miss Owain's insane rambling." Anje and Olivia exchanged grins. "Almost."

"Only now you say that?"

"Making fun of your attire has gotten rather boring," Anje grumbled, swatting a loose strand of hair out of her face.

Olivia remained steadfast and continued to squint her eyes, looking toward the storm brewing in the valley. "Right, Anje. No doubt you volunteered us for this boring recon mission for any other reason?"

Anje glared at her friend and grit her teeth. Olivia's face twisted into a smug smile. She's getting too good at seeing through me, Anje thought. No doubt her soaring confidence has been a by-product of me telling her to be more forward with me. My own damn fault-

"Look!" Olivia hopped beside Anje, crouching low to the ground. "The dust there is kicking up rapidly in the valley. Riders coming from the South-"

Anje patted her companion on the shoulder. "Right, so we let them pass and then use the storm as cover as we tail them."

"Don't forget the smoke signal."

"And the smoke signal," Anje said, rolling her eyes. "I knew that. You don't have to treat me like I'm so green."

She quickly took the bow off her shoulder, and took the arrow Olivia handed her; the arrowhead coated in sugar and some other stuff that the quartermaster told Anje. All she knew is it would emit a white smoke once lit and shot from her arrow, and it wasn't edible no matter how sweet the material on the arrowhead smelt.

Anje nocked the arrow and aimed toward the cloudless sky and Olivia quickly maneuvered with her flint and steel to spark the arrowhead. Once lit, she let the arrow sail far at an arc with a great stream of white smoke dripped in the sky. Smiling, Anje placed her shortbow on her back once more and motioned with her hand to Olivia. It was time to give chase.

"Well," Olivia said, shielding the sun from her eyes. "Isn't that a pretty smoke stream?"

"Yeah, yeah. We can appreciate fake clouds later." Anje began to jog down the edge of the cliff overlooking the dusty valley. "We've got skulls to crack, and all this sitting around has got me feeling jittery."

"Really?" Olivia quipped, jogging up beside Anje. "And here I thought you had nerves of steel, considering you don't even have a good luck ritual before a performance."

Anje snorted and wiped her brow. She didn't need silly little rituals to ensure her success. It was either she went out and did what she needed to do, or failed. The thought of giving some sort of power away to an unknown entity or ideal grated at her consciousness. Agency was too precious to throw away on something that frivolous.

"Ain't got time for that nonsense," Anje huffed, vaulting over a large boulder. "Besides, I don't think that stuff works."

With slightly more effort, Olivia hurdled over the boulder. "Even praying?"

"Even praying," Anje replied, settling into an easy jogging pace. "Still not sure what to make of this Naga anyway."

"She's the centerpiece of-"

"Yeah, you've explained to me what she is," Anje huffed, "the point is it doesn't work. Same deal with my old god."

A shiver ran down Anje's spine. No matter how hard I prayed at the circus, my cries at night were never heard. Anje shook her head rapidly, feeling her heart flutter a bit.

That was then; a piece of her that she had left behind. Nothing good would arise by dredging up the past when there were more pressing matters happening at the moment. She took in a slow and ragged deep breath, pushing the memory into the depths of her mind.

"You never-" Olivia placed a hand on Anje's shoulder, holding on tightly-breathing deep breaths, "How do you move so quickly? It's like trying to follow a deer."

Anje skid to a stop and turned around. She held up two fingers and cleared her throat. "First, endurance training was key for my career. Still is. And second," Anje cast a knowing glance at Olivia's heaving chest, "Chest wrapping. Helps when you run that it doesn't feel like sandbags are trying to hit you in the face."

Olivia's face reddened, instantly crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, it's part of my attire and not impractical. Besides, I have added some armor components as you suggested-"

"I didn't say it was impractical," Anje contested, furrowing her brow. "Having your boobs nearly falling out does have it's advantages. I've seen how you smile when one of those poor fools slows down just enough to-"

"Stop, stop, stop," Olivia said, waving her hands and shaking her head. "Can we not discuss this any further, and please go help our allies?"

"You mean to say that you've caught your breath?" Anje raised an eyebrow and stretched out a leg. "I mean, I'm good either way to go stab some people or have a nice conversation about-"

"Anje," Olivia said through her teeth in a low tone.

Anje flashed a toothy smile and clasped her hands together. She had gotten to her. Olivia had yet to admit the reason, but both women knew. Anje was just trying to weasel a confession out of the meek dancer, and if that meant playing with her food, then it meant it'd be a juicer victory when that day came.

"Alright, murder it is," Anje faux sighed. "Just remember this, Olivia, that you'd rather stab someone than talk about-"

"Anje, we're going to be behind schedule."

"Right, right," Anje said hastily. "Sorry, but I think I found my good luck ritual."

"Tormenting me?" Olivia huffed, settling into a steady jog once again alongside Anje.

"Yup," Anje cackled as she dashed slightly ahead of Olivia. "You just put me in such a good mood!"

Olivia groaned and trudged onward after her speedy companion and the Plegian battalion. Anje glanced back to see her face was flush and tense; she then giggled quietly to herself. Getting Olivia focused for fights was quickly becoming a favorite hobby of Anje's, much to her friend's dismay. A welcome distraction from the violence to come.

The scorching heat pierced through the dust clouds; smells of sinew, sweat, and sulfur filling the valley. Anje exhaled softly and removed her hand axe from the skull, planting her boot on the dead soldier's chest. It was the last Plegian scout that Olivia and she had discovered running messages in the Border Wastes. With no more enemy scouts, they'd successfully removed the passage of information that the Plegians would rely on to communicate with Gangrel's forces and their assumed backup forces.

Anje wiped her brow and stowed the hatchet on her hip. "You about done over there?"

"Just about!" Olivia's shrill voice responded. The dust storm had kicked up, muting the sounds around them, and managed to provide suitable cover for an ambush. Olivia kept her head low as she marched toward Anje, a parchment gripped in her hand. "I found this on one of the couriers.

"What'd it say?" Anje asked, jogging over to Olivia and peering over her shoulder.

Olivia unraveled the note and her eyes fervently scanned the note. "It looks like orders from someone named Aversa...and it seems that the Plegian army is in disarray."

"How can you tell?"

"It says it right here," Olivia said, pointing at the note. "Right here, 'Our armies are in disarray High Priest Validar'. Seems like Grimleal to me, with the mentioning of religion and stuff."

Anje furrowed her brow, glaring at the parchment with words that she couldn't decipher. "And that's bad, right? They're the cultists if I remember?"

Olivia nodded. "Worshippers of Grima. I don't know much about them myself, but they're not good news." Olivia tucked the note into a small inner chest pocket on her ensemble. "We should get moving. No doubt Basilio is wondering where we are in this storm."

"Eh, I doubt he'll be mad we cut off their communications," Anje said. "But you're right. We should probably get moving again."

A knot twisted inside Anje's gut as she followed Olivia northward into the storm. And it'll be the first time since Ferox since I've seen them. Doubt they've forgotten that. I haven't.

"I'll go to the Ylisseans, and you can take this note back to Basilio, sound good?" Olivia offered, holding out the note.

Anje squinted through the harsh sunlight at her friend's forced smile. She didn't want Anje to be the one to deliver the message to the Shepherds. A pang of guilt surged through Anje's heart, though she quickly buried it with thoughts of duty. She hated when Olivia was right.

"Fine," Anje tersely said, snatching the note. "Just don't go die on me or something stupid."

Olivia smiled; this one warmer and softer. "I'll be fine, Anje. Besides, you did say that I am pretty distracting. I doubt an enemy's blade will come close to threatening my beautiful dance."

Anje snickered. "Yeah, that is true. As long as you know it."

"Alright," Olivia said softly, her voice carrying on the wind like a soothing lullaby. "Let us make haste."

"Right," Anje said, rolling her eyes. "Try not to get sand in your crack as you're busy inspiring everyone."

Olivia blushed and turned her head. "T-that's not e-even, gah! See you back at camp!"

Anje smiled as Olivia stomped away northward; the direction that the Plegian couriers had come from. Anje squinted her eyes and turned East, to where the Feroxi forward camp was set up. It'd be difficult walking directly into the storm, but pulled her elbow up in front of her face and began her long trudge back to camp to report to Basilio.

She arrived at the encampment through the writhing dust storm, coughing up some dirt and sand. It was a choice of either not look where you are going or get a face full of sand.

Anje entered the encampment perched between some craggy rocks; a natural defense against the searing winds. She noticed a trio of Feroxi guards, much of their wool armor discarded in favor of showing off their well-toned abdominals, thighs, and biceps.

We must look like a bunch of barbarians.

"You three!" Anje said, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. The lazy guards immediately straightened up and faced her. "Where's the big bastard? I've got news for him."

"Forward camp, I reckon," The scrawniest of the trio of guards replied.

Anje flashed a quick and forced smile before brushing past them. She had done her duty of performing the recon and obtaining enemy information. The past few months of physical drills and what to look for had proven to be informative, as she wouldn't have guessed how to survey a map properly or what to look for in a courier, but at least the physical training wasn't anything new. Endurance training was her lifeblood, and while Olivia may have faltered despite picking up the academics more quickly due to familiarity, Anje made a nice compliment with a relentless drive and ravenous craving to pursue their goals.

"Basilio!" Anje shouted, wiping sweat away from her brow as she entered the large war tent. Basilio looked up from the large war table before him; dressed in a mix of banded leather armor and a great axe strapped to his back. "I've returned from that scouting mission. Envoy is dead."

"No prisoners?" Basilio asked, curious.

Anje shrugged. "You didn't ask us to take any?" She nodded with her head to the flailing tent flap serving as a thin barrier between the stale air of the tent and the blistering storm. "Plus, you think I would have dragged some goon through this storm?"

"Nah, but one can hope for you, pipsqueak!" Bellow bellowed, holding his sides. The large man wiped a tear from his eye and sighed. "Ah, no matter. You're at least quick and do what you're told. If only you could build muscle like some of the other ladies around here or Flavia…"

Anje grit her teeth. "Orders, please."

"Not yet, I've got at least one more." Basilio raised his hand to his chin. He hummed and looked off into the distance for a moment before snapping his fingers. "Oh, also you're ugly."

"You're lacking creativity, Basilio," Anje chided. "Didn't booze up before the battle, did you?"

Basilio's nose flared and he gave a lopsided grin. "I drink before every battle, kid! Keeps the soul warm! Haha!"

"Olivia's already gone on her way to find the Shepherds," Anje said, ignoring her boss's antics. "What do you want me to do besides say more crude things?"

She had wished she could work with Flavia again, but with her being the acting Khan Regent it left fieldwork to Basilio; her trainer, mentor, and somewhat of a role model. Granted, she hated his drinking habits and how he seemed to hardly take his duty seriously as Khan. Anje remembered hearing some of the other scouts mention Basilio was just happy to not be acting Khan and dealing with politics. The man seemed to enjoy going back to grunt work, as if losing to the Shepherds at Longfort was the best thing to happen to the man in a long while.

"Well, I'd hate to take you out of your element, but I do have work for you," Basilio said, his tone now relaxed and his eyes focused back on the war map. "Our front line fighters are probably already engaged with the enemy, along with Olivia. You said you had information?"

Anje dropped the rolled parchment on the table. "Someone named Aversa telling some guy named Validar about the army already being a chaotic mess or something."

"We really need to teach you how to read, kid, " Basilio said under his breath. He scooped up the note and his eyes scanned it fervently. "I see…yes. Validar is the high priest of the Grimleal. Not sure who this Aversa person is, but this guy is a piece of work."

"Meaning?"

Basilio looked over the note and raised an eyebrow at Anje. "He's a fucking lunatic."

"Ah," Anje said, clicking her tongue. "Gotcha."

Basilio set the note down on the table and rolled his shoulders. "Well, good job on cutting off communications. Time we get the rest of these snowballs off their asses and join the fun."

"We're going to the main battlefield now?"

"Well, of course we are, kid," Basilio grumbled. "Didn't bring my axe all this way to not get it a little dirty! And I don't mean the sand."

"I figured that much," Anje huffed.

Basilio brushed past her, chuckling under his breath. "Had to check. Sometimes you make me wonder, kid."

"B-but-" Anje's face flushed red and she growled lowly. Bastard.

Anje trudged after Basilio as he roused the masses of his camp, his harsh and boisterous voice boomed throughout the plateau. Captains relayed Basilio's message further on, and the hundreds of warriors from Ferox quickly mobilized into an eager group roused by the call of war. If there was a way to motivate a Feroxi, it was to promise them a good fight.

With war horns blaring and banners raised, Basilio led the march northward deeper into the Border Wastes, following the cries of battle and bloodshed that laid beyond the rocky hills. Anje stuck close behind Basilio for two reasons; first, she hadn't been given orders to go anywhere else, and secondly, she had no idea what large-scale combat was actually like.

She'd been a part of bandit raids and small skirmishes before, where a queasy feeling would bubble up in her stomach as dead men and women would fall around her. Being on the edge of life and death exhilarated her and the fear combined with her survival instincts forced her to be hyper-aware. She knew being greedy and foolhardy would be costly, as it nearly did months ago when Owain saved her. The guilt made her sick, as she hated the thought of someone having to save her, or worse, holding it over her for leverage.

So, here she tempered herself to know the difference between a performance and a fight. While similar, they were not the same. One was of survival, and the other was to demoralize or inspire. She only wished it was easier to separate the two feelings when her adrenaline spiked and the thrill of the fight washed over her body and mind.

The Feroxi contingent marched with vigor, barely noticing that the sandstorm was beginning to clear up as the sounds of clashing blades became louder. Anje felt another twisting feeling in her gut as they crested the last rocky hill and were granted a full vantage of the battlefield.

It had grown quiet as the contingent scanned the area, and then Basilio groaned. The noise of scraping metal wasn't from fevered clashes and duels; the Plegian's had thrown their weapons on the ground. They were surrendering.

"Look there," Basilio said, nudging Anje in the shoulder. She squinted in the direction Basilio was looking and softly gasped.

In the distance on a small mound of dirt, she saw Chrom standing triumphantly over a headless body wearing a sleek golden plate mail with black chainmail and razor-like designs emitting from the greaves and bracers. When comparing the man's armor to the other Plegian's, the message became clear.

Chrom had slain Gangrel.

"Damn," Basilio whispered, crossing his arms. Anje turned her head to look at the behemoth of a man who was...pouting?

"Shouldn't you be happy? They're surrendering."

"Bah." Basilio waved Anje off. Basilio pointed toward Chrom, who was beginning to be surrounded by cheering Ylisseans. "I wanted to do that. Damn that Gangrel. He couldn't have lasted just a tad longer."

Anje's mouth twitched. "You're really that bugged you didn't get to kill him?"

"You only get so many opportunities to kill another monarch without the public wanting your head next, kid. Best make 'em count." Basilio sighed. "Get a head start on looking for the injured and survivors. I need to coordinate a perimeter in case of reinforcements and get our medical unit up to the front."

Anje nodded and slid down the rocky outcropping. Her nose wrinkled as the smell of blood filled the air. Stepping over corpses, she was happy to see that most were of Plegia, with few of the Ferox's first support group and Ylissean ground troops. Looking up she saw two Pegasus riders circling the battlefield; one she immediately recognized as Sumia and her mount, Belfire given the color of her armor and Belfire's ashen colored fur.

Anje continued to drift through the field of bodies, occasionally checking on some bodies to see if they were truly still. The battle was quick and bloody, and those Plegians she did pass without weapons simply laid down in a prostrated position with their hands clasped together. From their frayed leather outfits and dull-looking spears and blades, she had little reason to wonder why they lost. They had followed a madman to the brink of oblivion and had paid dearly for it.

A ragged cough broke her daze, and Anje turned her head toward a Ylissean foot soldier not too far from her. She tiptoed around two dead Plegians and knelt down beside the man; he barely looked older than her, maybe seventeen or eighteen years old. His gambeson was blooded across the chest with a shallow cut across. His iron helmet wasn't present as was seen on previously fallen Ylisseans, revealing a brown mop of hair and a bruised face.

He tried to roll over, and winced in pain, trying to cover his chest. Anje held him by the shoulder. "Is it broken?" Anje whispered.

"I don't know," the man whimpered. "Everything feels so cold." He looked up to her with pleading eyes. "I-I don't want to die here…"

Anje swallowed hard. She hadn't been trained for this. Sure she had dealt with injuries back in the circus when someone got bit by the tiger or had a bad fall, but it was another thing to look a dying man in the face. Anje felt scared for the man as his eyes frantically looked around as if he could see an escape to the pain.

She leaned in and noticed blood still seeping out of his gambeson near his pectoral. She applied a gentle pressure against it with her hands, and a hissing noise escaped the man's mouth. "Gotta stop the blood flow," Anje muttered. "Don't you dare pass out on me."

"Let me just rest my eyes," the man whispered, his eyes beginning to flutter.

Panicking, Anje did the first thing that came to her mind. She slapped the man lightly across the face.

His eyes bulged and his jaw dropped. "D-did you just slap me?"

"...yes," Anje conceded.

It was that or mouth to mouth for oxygen. At least I think that's how that works.

"A good thing too," A new voice called out. It was feminine and refined, but had a certain bite that bespoke of a woman with brevity and a no-nonsense demenour. "Hold him still dear, I'll stabilize him."

Anje looked up to see a woman in a pink and white dress with several intricately curled braids holding a brilliant marble colored staff that had one end gnarled up like an ancient tree root. She lowered the staff down toward the ailing man and the air thrummed with energy as a soft green light enveloped the man. He shuddered as the energy left him, but his breathing normalized.

Magic. She still didn't know what to think of it, but it still unnerved her. It was unnatural, to say the least, but the effects it produced were very real and produced wondrous results. Even if it's handy, I still don't trust such strange power. Anje forced a flat and neutral expression upon her face as the man sat up and breathed more evenly.

"You're lucky you didn't pass out," the haughty woman chided. The man cringed as she waggled a daintily gloved hand dangerously close to his face. "You were taught to keep pressure on wounds! It's like the lot of you want to make a mess of yourselves."

"Apologies, Lady Maribelle," the man meekly responded.

"Don't apologize to me," Maribelle retorted. "Say your thanks to this Feroxi woman and then be on your way when you have your strength back."

"Right." The soldier nodded vigorously and then turned to Anje, bowing his head. "You have my thanks…-"

"Anje."

"Right, thank you, Anje," Maribelle replied, lingering on Anje's name as if savoring the word would grant her more insight.

The man relaxed and Anje stood up to look Maribelle in the eyes. Her steely brown eyes and curled lips juxtaposed her frilly attire as she sized Anje up in turn. She was a sliver taller than Anje herself and had about twice as much blonde hair. Pristine and elegant opposed to Anje, who had been running through a sandstorm for much of the day and could feel dirt caked in places that better be left untold.

"So," Maribelle started, "You are with the Feroxi? A scout by the looks of it." She gave Anje another once over with a critical eye. "Or perhaps a very filthy assassin. Either way, you have my thanks for keeping one of ours alive. Follow me, I may have need of your keen eye."

Anje frowned as Maribelle sauntered past her, gesturing with a white glove to follow. Anje rolled her eyes and clenched her fists, but followed without a word. It's just some prissy noble. Just play it cool and don't start any shit. You can do this.

"Nothing else to say?" Maribelle asked, keeping her head forward and looking for bodies.

"Nah, I'm good." Anje's lips sat in a hard line as she chewed at her tongue.

If I don't say anything then maybe she'll stop saying entitled shit.

"Very well. I always wondered the day I'd meet a Feroxi with passable manners," Maribelle mused as she led Anje deeper into the heart of the valley. Anje exhaled deeply and kept her mouth shut. Stepping over a Plegian corpse, mage given the purple and black robes, Maribelle made a disgusted sound. "Such savagery. If you don't mind me asking a question, Anje was it?"

"I might," Anje replied through her teeth.

Maribelle lightly chuckled. "How quaint. Now, Anje isn't a standard name amongst the Feroxi is it? Sounds foreign. Exotic even."

"I'm not from around here," Anje plainly stated. She shifted uncomfortably as Maribelle's steady gait paused as she lowered her staff and rejuvenated another injured Ylissean soldier.

"Not Valmese are you?" Maribelle quipped, finishing her healing spell.

Anje shook her head. "No. Ukrainian, but I doubt you've heard of it. Far away from here."

Can't decide if it's too far from home, or just far enough from the awful stuff, Anje mused as Maribelle began walking again. Still, not sure why some random noble wants me to talk. Maybe they're bored. Or think I'm a novelty of some sort. Wouldn't be the first time…

"Very well. Can't say that I've heard of it," Maribelle mused. She pointed at a nearby body, face down. "Turn that one over."

Anje sighed and complied with the noble's demand. A bulky tan fellow groaned in pain as she barely turned him over. "He's still alive," Anje remarked.

"Clearly." Maribelle lowered her staff, and another pulse of green energy shot out and enveloped the man. "He's favoring his left side, probably fractured ribs. He's not healed, but he won't have a collapsed lung before he drags himself back to camp for triage."

Anje nodded and left the man behind, trailing behind Maribelle. The woman held her head high and turned to Anje. She held out a thin metallic rod with leather wrapping to her. "Uh, pretty dull sword you've got here," Anje said, holding the object curiously.

"It's a parasol. Press the button to activate the mechanism," Maribelle instructed like she was explaining it to a child. "If you're not going to talk, you'll have to make due in other ways."

"Like…?"

Maribelle pinched the bridge of her nose. "You truly are a soldier," she cursed under her breath. "Hold it up for me. The sun is absolutely terrible on my skin."

Anje blinked. You've got to be fucking kidding me. She took in a deep breath and released the mechanism, sprouting forth a parasol with matching pastel colors to Maribelle's dress. Anje walked beside Maribelle and held up the parasol, using every ounce of self-control not to throw the silly device.

"Now, isn't that better? Why, you're even getting some shade too. Splendid," Maribelle said, smiling. "Let's not tary here long, we need to sweep through the South and then make haste before the evening settles in."

Anje looked toward the sun. Perhaps a few hours past noon. "I've another I need you to turn over. Come quickly and stop gawking at the sun, Anje," Maribelle instructed in a stern tone.

Groaning, Anje trudged after the noblewoman. It would be a long battle, but not the one she came prepared for.

"Twenty-six," Maribelle hummed. "Twenty-six recovered. I dare say that was more than I anticipated, but it is a job well done nonetheless."

"Mhmmm."

"Nothing else to say on our good deeds?"

"Nope," Anje replied, popping the 'p' of the word.

So many hours of listening to her drone on and on about...stuff. Anje felt light headed and her stomach grumbled as they approached the Ylissean camp. It was nearly dusk as they arrived as soldiers began to light torches around the perimeter. Any nervousness she had felt before visiting the Shepherds was long gone after following Maribelle around for hours on a blood-soaked battlefield.

"Follow me," Maribelle instructed. Anje sighed and maintained a rigid posture as she walked by several Ylissean soldiers. "We shall report in with my lord, and then I shall send you on your way to Khan Basilio."

"Fantastic," Anje replied in an exasperated tone.

The path was wide and rocky, several circular encampments sectioned off on each side. Laughter, chatter, and singing could be heard from all the areas. Songs of victory and congratulations. Songs ushering in the new area of Exalt Chrom. That was something new to Anje, and she kept that in mind as Maribelle led her to the encampment at the end of the rocky path.

It was circular in construction much like the others, but more space was provided. It was an officer's camp, Anje noticed. Since working in Regna Ferox, it wasn't hard to figure out who was in charge. It was the people with the biggest tents.

Maribelle took a sharp left, to which Anje nearly stumbled as she tried to follow, finding herself distracted. Deep breaths. It'll be fine. Maybe they won't even remember!

Walking around the bend, Anje spotted some folks around a campfire to her left, chatting and laughing. She immediately spotted five people, two of which she recognized; Sumia and Stahl. Stahl was the only one looking around, and locked eyes with Anje. The mild mannered man seemed to freeze like a petrified deer as he met her eyes, but managed to nudge Sumia in the side.

Sumia looked up from her conversation, smiling and laughing, but as she saw Anje her joy evaporated. Anje offered a weak smile in return, but Sumia's expression took on a conflicted look of pain and remorse.

Please. Anything else but that look.

After their brief staring match, Sumia broke off her gaze and returned to her conversation, though she seemed immediately drained of energy. Stahl merely looked worried as he continued to watch Anje disappear further into the camp, until she turned her head to focus on where Maribelle was going once more.

"Ah, here we are. Follow me inside, but don't speak to Lord Chrom unless spoken to," Maribelle said, casting a pointed look over her shoulder. "It's merely a debrief surely you-"

"I know what the hell a debrief is," Anje blurted out. She could only take so much of Maribelle's blathering.

Instead of anger, Maribelle merely smiled and nodded. "Good."

Maribelle gestured to the tent flap and then to Anje. She gripped the tent flap and held it up for Maribelle to sneak under, and then ducked inside herself.

"Pardon the intrusion, milord," Maribelle stated. Chrom paused from taking a pauldron off his shoulder and looked up to Maribelle. "I've ascertained twenty-six recovered soldiers with the help of-"

"Anje," Chrom interjected. He met her eyes and nodded, before turning his attention back to Maribelle. "I trust that they were able to make it back to camp?"

Slightly stunned, Maribelle took a moment to recompose herself. "Yes, milord. They should be in the medical section of the army by now."

"Good. That's...really good news," Chrom replied, his voice weathered and tired. "Go let Frederick know. He's doing count with Cordelia and Libra. Then, make sure you get some rest. I appreciate all your help, Maribelle."

Maribelle curtsied and flashed a smile at Chrom. "Of course. Please stop by my tent later if you feel any pains or maladies. I'd be very disappointed if I find out later."

Chrom chuckled. "Of course." Maribelle gave another brief curtsy before gesturing for Anje to lift the tent flap. Anje could feel Chrom smirking as she turned and lifted the tent flap for the frilly healer.

Anje returned her focus to Chrom and stepped further into the room; up to the war table. I've traded one kind of hell for a different one. At least I'll finally get to say what I've been preparing myself to do, given that Olivia was right.

A silence stretched between the two for several seconds before Chrom sighed. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"I'm sorry," Anje blurted out. She could feel tears well up under her eyes, but dared not let them loose. "I know I fucked up, and the damage I caused. I've had a lot of time to think about it." Anje exhaled deeply. It was more than an apology to Chrom; this was to the Shepherds as a whole and to herself. "I'm not sure how much it means to you, because words are just words, but I truly am sorry for what I did. I-I didn't know any other way, I guess. I was stuck and afraid, still kinda am, but, uh-"

Anje grit her teeth. Of course I can't remember everything I wanted to say, even with Olivia's help these past few days. And why must he look at me with so much sadness? Be angry at me, damnit! I fucked up! Let me have it!

Chrom nodded and smiled, rapping his knuckles against the large square war table. We began to walk around the table toward Anje, a solemn and kind expression upon his face. It made Anje feel unnerved. Chrom placed a hand on her shoulder, and a shiver ran down Anje's spine.

"I'm glad to see that you erred, and have done all you can to be a better version of yourself," Chrom said softly. "Flavia has sent me some updates when I've had a chance to prod. It's truly remarkable how you've dedicated yourself."

"Thank you-"

"But, I think it's me that owes you an apology," Chrom lamented. He gripped her shoulder slightly tighter, in a reassuring fashion.

Anje wanted nothing more than to bolt for the exit than be coddled. She craned her neck upward and squinted at Chrom. "Excuse me?"

Chrom released his grip from Anje, and planted his hands on his hips, letting out a deep sigh. "It's my fault ultimately, as leader of the Shepherds. I should have spent more time with you, to get to know you better. Get you to feel more like you belonged and what was going on with you, but I let you down. You should blame me."

Anje rolled her tongue around in her mouth. What the hell is he talking about?

"I don't understand," Anje said, bewildered. "It was me that stabbed Lon'Qu. It was me that nearly caused a meltdown for your group, and it was me that had to dig my way out of it. Literally in some cases…"

"Yes, and while I wouldn't want to overshadow the work you put in, it still not you that should take the-"

"No, you listen here, Chrom." Anje raised a clenched fist and let out a ragged breath. She wanted to scream at him so badly. "You can't just own my mistakes, because I'm the one who made them, and I'm the one who had to work toward making myself better."

"I wasn't suggesting that," Chrom said, a low growl wafting under his voice. "I'm saying that you aren't the only one to blame! It's okay not to shoulder this all by yourself!"

"But it's my choice! Mine! Not yours!" Anje shouted at the top of her lungs. Chrom took a step back, bumping into the war table. Anje took a moment to catch her breath. "It's my choice to accept the burden, Chrom. You don't get to do that for me. I don't care if you're king, exalt, or whatever Naga is, but you don't. It's mine."

Chrom looked downward, and Anje noticed that he wasn't going to retort or fight her on it. His presence, usually larger than life, seemed to shrink away in the dimly lit tent. He looked exhausted, and Anje was sure she looked the part too. Her muscles ached and the dirt on her was beginning to feel like a second skin.

"Look, maybe we could start this all over." Chrom rubbed the back of his head. "I know we haven't seen eye to eye, but things have changed. Plegia is set to crumble, and perhaps a second chance is in order?"

Anje crossed her arms underneath her bust and glared at the lord. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Chrom winced and leaned back against the table. "I think that-"

"I said No, Chrom. I came here to apologize for what I did, not to try and wiggle my way back into your merry little band," Anje said.

You just had to be angry at me and accept an apology, Anje grumbled as she turned on her heel. Of course he'd try to save me too.

Anje began to walk toward the tent flap. She gripped the edge of it and paused, looking back toward the sullen Chrom. "Not everyone wants to be saved," Anje whispered. "I'll make my own way. The successes, the failures, and the struggles, I won't give them up to anyone. I'm learning to accept who I was and who I've become, and I won't let others define that."

"I can respect that," Chrom softly replied. "I won't hold you any longer than. Good luck to you, Anje."

Anje turned back to the exit and sighed. "You too, Exalt. Enjoy your victory. You've earned it."

Without a second thought, Anje left the tent and the cold air of the evening graced her face. Around the entrance, she noticed a small gathering had begun to form; some general soldiers and some of the shepherds. She noticed Vaike, Sully, Stahl, Frederick, and a few she didn't recognize standing off to the side whispering to each other. Apparently, her shouting had roused some concerns.

"Shows over folks," Anje announced as she kept a straight face and marched onward. She smiled as people began to disperse; a few entering the tent and muted chatter beginning to rise.

Walking around the bend of the circular encampment, Anje's eyes lit up as she spotted a warm and welcoming face. Virion stood beside a large and burly man with short hair, each of them chuckling. Anje quickened her stride, and Virion turned his head and looked to her with an inviting smile.

Virion wore a blood-stained lavender colored cuirass, topped with frilled cuffs, a large quiver on his back, and immaculate hair that looked like he had just left a spa. How the man didn't have a spec of dirt on him was beyond comprehension, but it didn't matter. A friendly face is what she needed.

"Hi, Virion," Anje said, stopping in front of the two Shepherds. "It's, uh, been a while."

A corner of Virion's lips twisted into a coy smile. "Indeed it has." The archer's eyes drifted toward Chrom's tent. "Certainly know how to make an entrance for yourself, my dear. It's quite applaudable, granted I would recommend better makeup than Plegian sand."

A titter of amusement escaped Anje's throat. "Yeah, I know. It's good to see you. I've...been working on some stuff. Could we talk?"

"For you? Of course, but I warn you," Virion patted Gregor on the shoulder, "You'll have to tell me the story over me taking all of this gentleman's mercenary earnings in a game of poker."

"Ha! Gregor would like to see you try," Gregor chuckled. "Even if the sandy Feroxi girl comes, you will still find yourself with empty pockets!"

Virion rolled his eyes at Gregor and then looked to Anje. "So, will you join us? We could use more beautiful ladies in our current group. Besides, I'm absolutely curious to hear what you have to say."

"Sure, granted you have somewhere I can wash up later," Anje replied. "Oh, and I wouldn't mind joining in on the game. I might just take both of your money."

"Ha! Gregor likes the fire in this one!"

Virion smirked. "Oh, yes indeed. But, we are wasting time and we left Nowi with Gaius. Best not leave those two alone too long."

"You make a fair point, frilly one. Let us go now, for Gregor's wallet is hungry." Gregor marched ahead, leaving Anje and Virion lingering behind.

Virion leaned over toward Anje's ear. "So what was that ruckus you caused in Chrom's tent?" He whispered.

"Trying something new. Apologizing."

"Oh, really? Will we all be getting one of these?" Virion made an amused face. "If that's the result of an apology, I'm curious to see what a threat from you looks like. Seems Ferox has been interesting for you."

Anje nodded and began walking beside Virion. "It has. And if you behave, maybe you'll get one."

"I'm always on my best behavior," Virion scoffed, but Anje could tell he was putting on an act. "You know, maybe you have changed. There's something different about your aura that I can't quite place."

Anje felt her face warm up and bit, her lips forming a thin line. "Maybe I have," She whispered.

She scrunched her face and turned away. Stop blushing damnit! She took in a deep breath and tried to keep a straight face. Why did he have such a way with flowery words that made her stomach churn?

"Ah, I know," Virion snapped his fingers, "You've gotten taller, and sprouted into a more beautiful woman than before."

"Mhmmm. And you got a haircut."

"Finally, someone notices," Virion relented. "It's been days since Maribelle gave me a trim, and not one compliment!"

"Well, if you behave I might tell you what happened and give you another compliment."

Anje and Virion stopped in front of a large well-lit tent, with its flap down. Noises of struggle could be heard from inside, and Anje couldn't help but chuckle. The sun had finally dipped below the horizon and numerous torches around the camp gave the camp a serene and cozy feeling.

"You spoil me, Anje." Virion said, opening the tent flap and gesturing inside with a hand and a bow. "After you, of course."

A warmth flooded Anje's chest as she sauntered inside. For a day full of battle and argument, the night finally looked to be taking a turn for the better.

Anje stared at her poker hand of mismatched cards and threw them down on the table face down. Nearly thirty rounds with eight players had taken place, and she was at her wit's end. At the far end of the table and nearly hidden behind his stack of gold was Robin, who's mildly blissful expression pissed Anje off to no end. He had won twenty-four of the hands this evening, and the one's he lost he had folded immediately.

"Okay, I'm not sure I can take much more of this," Gauis groaned, wiping his face with his green scarf. "I've been cheating for the past ten rounds and still haven't been able to win."

"Gregor agrees. This seems rigged, and even the little one shuffled."

"I fold." Anje pushed her hand of cards into the center of the table and put her head face down on the table. Sure, she wasn't an expert at the game, but it was starting to feel like a bad joke.

"Okay, who invited Robin? Seriously?" Gaius asked, managing to rouse everyone's attention.

Anje replied with a muted groan, refusing to lift her head. More answers of confusion came from Nowi, Virion, Gregor, and Ricken. From the corner of Anje's eye, she saw the former Grimleal mage, Tharja, hovering near the entrance of the tent not saying anything and watching Robin very intently.

What a weirdo. Why do mages have to insist on wearing pajamas or big coats everywhere? Anje sat up and looked across the table at Robin. "Alright, be honest. Are you using magic or something to cheat?"

Robin tilted his head to the side. "No? I'm just counting cards and assessing each round with the probability of the best odds of winning. Don't you all do this? It's pretty basic algebra..."

"It is magic! Goddamnit," Anje growled, raising her head with a fire in her eyes.

Virion nudged Anje in the shoulder, leaning into her ear. "He's using math, darling."

"Whatever. Same difference. He's cheating," Anje grumbled, crossing her arms. Robin offered a sympathetic smile from across the table and shrugged.

Gaius turned to Robin with a concerned look. "Did you know I was, uh, keeping cards under the table?"

"Yeah, it was pretty easy to catch up on when I saw your hand slide and my count had to be amended," Robin confirmed as Gaius' eyes bulged. "Figured it was a fun challenge! Anyway," Robin scooped up all his winnings into a nearby satchel, and slung it over his shoulder, "It's been a fun game night, and I can't wait to play again. I'm excited I can now get that alembic equipment. Thanks!"

Robin walked lazily out of the tent, swaying from the weight of his winnings and Tharja trailing close behind him. Everyone watched the two depart in silence, and as the tent flap closed Gaius leaned over the table. "Okay, seriously. Who invited him? Do you all hate your wallets or something?"

Not like that was any of our plans, Anje huffed inside her head. "I'm going to get some fresh air." Anje stood up from the table, closing her eyes and exhaling softly. "Good games, or whatever."

Anje strode out of the tent, scratching the back of her head. Sure the entertainment was a great reprieve from the insurmountable stress of the day, and not to mention meeting some strange and interesting people. Distractions were welcome at this point.

Still, no idea what the hell Nowi is besides weird. Anje rolled her shoulders and began walking toward a nearby campfire. I suppose a bath will have to wait until morning, considering if they have water here or at the Feroxi camp.

Most of the Ylissean soldiers that were patrolling earlier were now gone, either resting or huddled up somewhere in their own groups. The gibbous moon dominated the clear night sky, helping illuminate the dry and barren wastes with only a few cacti and shrubs dotting the area. A quiet evening for a day filled with many screams and bloodshed, as if the valley and the surrounding wildlife itself had been culled back to a dull whimper against the might of humanity.

Walking down the path, Anje felt something grip her wrist. She spun quickly around, reaching for her knife, but exhaled a sigh of relief when she saw the person. "Virion," Anje started, "A little warning would be nice."

"Pardon my brashness, Anje," Virion replied, unhanding her and backing up slightly. His face tensed up; a sharp contrast from his naturally easy going facade. "May we talk a moment?"

"Uh, yeah, I-I mean, sure," Anje replied. Virion being serious with no clever quips or flowery langauge? Never a good sign.

Virion coughed into his gloved fist and drew in a deep breath. "I've been speaking with some of my companions here, after some," Virion paused-his lips twisting into a frown, "well, gentle persuasion from them, I've decided I could...make due on that little debt you owe me. If it is still available, of course."

"Yeah," Anje softly said. "It is. What's this about?"

"Follow me," Virion instructed, gesturing with his hand. "I know a more quiet place in camp. I'd like to keep this between us."

If this is actually how romantic Virion is, I'm kinda shocked. Anje nodded dutifully followed the flamboyant archer to the edge of the camp, just beside where the pegasi were being kept.

"Well, you've got me alone," Anje said, looking around the cold desert listlessly. She pointed a thumb at the pegasi. "Granted, I thought you didn't want an audience."

"They have the utmost discretion, my lady, rest assured. I'd trust them with more words than any man or woman."

"Alright. So let me hear what you've got to say." Anje crossed her arms and leaned back on one foot. "What's this really about?"

"Trust me when I say this is difficult to say," Virion began in a somber tone, "But, I am in need of help. Gravely so, I'm afraid. You see-"

"Sure, I'm in."

Virion took a step back and raised a finger. "Wait, perhaps you weren't listening clearly Anje, I hadn't even gotten to the part about-"

"I said, I'm in. Not sure how much more clear I can be, unless those fancy soaps are clogging your ears," Anje teased.

Virion ran his hand through his lush lavender hair and sighed. "Very well. It concerns my homeland. After some prodding and motivation, I've decided to try and organize a strike team. I Daresay that Cherche is already livid with me for dallying as much as I have."

"Who's Cherche?" Anje asked, genuinely curious with a small pang of worry settling into her gut. Does he have a wife?!

"My loyal retainer and dear friend," Virion conceded. He appeared much more tired to Anje in the moonlight now; his shoulders slightly slouched and his boisterous tone reigned in. "Gaius suggested it in jest, but he illuminated a brilliant point. I need people I can depend on."

"So you talk to the girl who owes you the most?"

Virion's cheeks reddened slightly. "Well, it was-"

Anje patted him on the shoulder and snickered. "I don't blame you. I've burned some bridges in my short time here, and I get it. I think I do, at least." Anje looked up, meeting Virion's eyes. "But when you need me, I'll be there. You were there when I was scared and alone, and I hate owing people. You ask, and I'll follow. No questions, but I can't say I won't complain a little depending on the work."

Virion smiled and pulled Anje into a hug. "Your valor is most appreciated. Seems that frigid Regna Ferox has done much to warm your soul."

Anje happily returned the tight hug, smiling. "Nah. I just know a bit better when I can be a frigid bitch." Anje and Virion separated and the archer cast a bemused smile at her. She rolled her eyes. "Flavia's words, not mine. But it's true."

Virion chuckled. "Very well. I'm afraid I have a few more people to talk to before the night is over, but I shall see you again in the morning."

Anje nodded, fighting down a wide grin. "That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Virion."

"Thanking me?" Virion replied, surprised. "I should be thanking you for agreeing to help me on such dubious terms."

"No. Thanks for not giving up on me," Anje quietly replied. She turned and waved. "I'm going to go sit by the fire over there for a bit. Still need to organize my thoughts."

"Rest well, my sweet!" Virion cooed in his usual bravado laden timbre. "May the flames rejoice for your soothing and poignant company!"

"Okay!" Anje shouted back as she left Virion by the pegasi.

I have no idea what he said, but at least I think he was happy. Anje knew deep down that made her happy too. The journey to this strange world was coming full circle, and her earliest and dearest debts were about to be claimed. She may have failed the Shepherds, but she would not fail her friend.

Anje poked at the smoldering fire pit with a twig, her knees pulled up into her chest as the icy winds of the Border Wastes threatened to snuff the last of her heat source. Returning to see the Shepherds again had been...taxing; more so than she had anticipated. The shouting match with Chrom, hearing Robin's suggestions on her note, and Virion's plea. It had drained her strength more than any performance or battle ever could. She longed for someone else to talk to or just be with at this moment now that all the celebration and drama had settled down for the night.

I'll go to wherever Virion needs me to, Anje thought as she poked at a large ember. I'd never think he would be scared, but it seems we all hide something. He was another person longing for their homeland, but she owed him and there was still something to be done about his situation. Hers had proven to be a string of dead ends...and she didn't want to go back. Here she had finally started to become herself.

Soft footsteps echoed in the distance, and Anje's head perked up. She squinted her eyes to try and pierce the darkness. She scrambled to her feet, hand hovering over her belt knife as a figure approached. They wore dark robes, stark white hair, and eyes that burned a dull orange. The shape looked like Robin, yet a wrongness pervaded the air as the fire between them seemed to shrink away at the figure's presence.

He bore a welcoming smile, but Anje could see beneath the surface of their skin thin black lines that seemed to pulse and vibrate in erratic motions. Whatever this figure was, it was not Robin. While the tactician would move awkwardly and seem odd, he was still human, while this entity glided across the sand like a malevolent puppet.

"Good evening," The figure said in a low and smooth voice. Its lips didn't move as the sound emitted from its body and Anje felt her body clench. "Everyone else is asleep at the moment, but I'm happy to entertain a conversation."

"Stay back," Anje warned, but her voice came out only as a whisper. She brandished her knife toward the creature, her hand shaking slightly. Even the air she breathed in felt like a cold miasmic sludge. "I d-don't know what you are, demon, but step any closer and I'll cut you and call for help!"

"Oh, Anje," The figure sighed, though its lips didn't move, "Haven't you realized? I couldn't stay back if I wanted. I am everywhere. Now…" The figure made a slow gesture downward with its hand, and Anje felt an incredible force upon her shoulders and her knees buckle, forcing her to sit down. "Let's chat."

"What are you?" Anje asked, her voice quivering as she stared into the creature's fathomless orange eyes.

"A deathless force. You may know me as Grima," Grima said, pausing for a moment. "But why I'm here before you has little to do with who I am, but who you are." A low chuckle escaped from the puppet's mouth. "Your pain and anguish sings to me, like a beautiful song. I was to give you the purpose you craved for so long, yet Naga denied you that. A complacent god in a world that has moved on."

Anje narrowed her eyes. "What makes you think that I'd make a deal with the fucking devil of this world?"

"Because of the pain that will be wrought upon this land," Grima said softly, looking out into the dark starry void. "I've seen the other side, child. There's nothing. You're nothing, but by making a simple choice you can be something for a little while longer." Grima turned back to Anje, a distorted sneer across their face. "Your newfound allies will die in vain, and I like that."

Whatever this thing is, it hasn't attacked me yet. Anje frantically thought as she tried to subtly look around the dark encampment. A dream. Yes, this must be a dream. She didn't know what that meant, but she was certain of one thing.

No offer, despite how sweet would turn her. She had clawed her way back into relevance and was making good on her promises and actions, despite resistance from others. She was her own person, and trading away agency for power didn't entice her. Control of her own destiny was a power in its own that was priceless. The Crimson Circus had taught her that through all the bruises and nights she spent hungry.

"You'll be presented with a choice in the near future," Grima intoned, taking a step back from the weak campfire. "Choose rightly, and your deepest desires will be fulfilled. And remember," The distorted figure imitating Robin smiled, sending a shiver down Anje's spine, "Whenever you think you're alone with your thoughts, know this," a breeze tickled at Anje's left ear and then picked up into a whisper, "You're not."

Anje's breath seized in her lungs as she watched the figure slowly disappear into the darkness. She dared not move her body or take her eyes off of Grima as he seemed to fade into the background of the hazy camp.

A jolting feeling surged through Anje's body, and she felt cold dirt caked onto the side of her face. She was now laying down in front of the smoldering fire pit, small chatter of the camp now present along with torch lights seen in the distance. She had fallen asleep at the fire.

Anje quickly brushed herself off and stood up. She had gotten enough sleep for one night; she needed to walk around and sort her thoughts. The figure that approached her at the fire terrified her, but not because its presence felt unholy and invasive.

She finally knew what had killed her during her last performance.

A/N: Hello everyone! Hopefully, you enjoyed the little interlude and the big splashy chapter to open up arc 2 of this story! It was highly entertaining (and intensive) to write with all the scenes to get in here. Still felt like I had more stuff to cover, but I'm saving them for the next chapter :)

Review Response:

RedXEagl3: Thanks for the assistance as my Cordelia aficionado. Glad you enjoyed the interlude with the snapshot of the Sheps, and there will be more Cordy to come in the second arc, rest assured.

Half-beastdragonsoul2013: I've still not seen him, and neither has Anje...hmmm...

Cavik:'are Chrom and Panne going where I think they're going?'- :)

Morskijez: I had to start hinting at some ships sooner or later so the future kids can start making their entrance into the story...not that it's spoilers or anything lol. Right?

TheBobcat18: Definitely something I tried to pin down for an interlude; nailing all the different characters that got a spotlight, as it's them being in character as well as thinking like they do. it's a lot of hats to wear, as I'm sure you're aware :) thanks for the input!

Alright, that's it for this update folks so here are my last plugs!

As per usual if want to find more quality fics in the FE genre or a place to improve your writing check out Fanfiction Treehouse discord . gg / 9XG3U7a I can be found here under my normal user name, so come by and say hi! We also have a server podcast hosted by Me, RedxEagl3, TheBobcat18, and Narwhal Lord with plenty of other guests across the fanfiction community where we talk about fanfiction, writing improvement, and more! The Fanfiction Treehouse Podcast can be found on Spotify and Soundcloud!

That's all for this update that I've got, and I'll see you next time and thanks for all the reviews, follows, and feedback! :D