As of writing this, I'm almost done with the mid-timeskip, which ended up being way longer than I ever thought it would end up being. I'm definitely going to be taking a couple weeks' break from writing further (which will not affect upload timings at all, haha– I have at least about 15 chapters until I run out, so no worries on that front). Just wanted to keep you guys updated!

Chapter XIV

All the monastery dorms looked the same. And yet, those of common birth were forced onto the first floor. I couldn't fathom why– I had been inside both and could say with experience that they were exactly the same. Elitism, I guessed.

It is a use of power. Nothing more, Katáktisi commented flippantly.

Just because it's a 'use of power' doesn't mean it's a good one.

There is no 'good'. Only the strong and the weak.

Can you really say being born a noble is a strength? It's purely based on the luck of who decided to have a kid a couple of years ago.

It is a lesser power. But it is a position of power nonetheless, bestowed upon them by Seiros. Though it is borne of the foe to all life, anyone who would not use their strength to claim victory is a fool. Or worse.

Then does my choice to not use items in fights make me a fool?

Choose your words with more care. A true battle is life and death– there are only the victors and the dead. There is no punishment for losing a spar.

I couldn't argue with that, so I let the conversation drop. I had come to this part of the monastery seeking aid from a very specific person regarding a very specific topic. A topic that I was both intimately familiar with and uncomfortably confused about.

I had grabbed some sheets of music from the chapel. I vaguely recognized the notation used– I had seen it maybe once or twice throughout my sojourns through Hyrule and Termina– but I had no idea how to decode it. Navi or Tatl had always done it for me. It was times like these that I missed them.

'Come back, Link,' they whispered when there were no other sounds to hear. 'Why did you stop looking for us? Just a couple more kilometers, a couple more weeks, and maybe you'll see us. You need us. You need us. You need us.' I always pushed them out of my mind– I had moved on, I had stronger connections in Fodra than in Hyrule or Termina, and…

The dull ache in my heart tore itself open again. Maybe I could talk to Saria soon?

No. Not after what happened at the Goddess Tower. I hastily bandaged the wound in that hackneyed way that I knew. Keep moving forward and don't look back. The longing would fade over time.

Hopefully.

It was time to throw myself wholeheartedly into this current task. I scaled the steps to the first level of dorms and paused. Which door was the one that Manuela had directed me to again? I felt bad pestering her about this, what with her condition and all, so I figured the other skilled singer would be a more than adequate substitute.

It was this one, right? Three doors down from the northern side? It had to be. I stepped up to the wooden door, shifted my weight from foot to foot, and knocked three times.

"U-um, nobody's home!" a response squealed. Curious. That didn't sound quite like Dorothea. Her name was Dorothea, right? Maybe I was just remembering it incorrectly.

"Really?" I asked the closed door. "Unless you're a talking door, your response would mean that someone is inside there to answer it."

"Ugh, great going, Bernie!" the occupant whispered angrily, but still loud enough for the sound to pass through the barrier. "What do you want? You're here to kill me, aren't you?!"

Where in Fodra had that come from? If we wanted to kill her, Katáktisi noted, we would have done so a long time ago. I swiftly told the Crestwraith to not say such things, even if no one could hear it except for me.

"No, no," I placated. "I was actually hoping to speak to a Dorothea, but now I'm too invested in this wonderful conversation to just back out. Uh, while I'm here… why did you think I was going to kill you? With all due respect, I don't even know who you are."

"Because–" The voice paused. "Because! Why else would anyone want to talk to this unmarriageable idiot?!"

"Miss, I'm twelve years old. 'Unmarriageable' means less than nothing to me."

Silence.

"Look, I'm sorry if I somehow managed to scare you…"

More silence.

"Lemme make you a deal. You tell me where I can meet Dorothea, and I'll go away. How's that sound?"

"... U-um… two doors to the left."

That was… slightly helpful. "Is that my left or your left?"

Silence.

"I'll assume yours. Thank you, nameless voice behind a door!"

I knew that the so-called 'nameless voice behind a door' had a name, and that name was Bernie, but with how explosively she had reacted to my mere existence, I thought it best to just… not. Maybe I should do something to unruffle those feathers… break in in the dead of night and leave a slice of cake and a letter? No, that was a bit too perishable– and breaking in probably wasn't going to be appreciated. A vase of flowers from the greenhouse on the doorstep, on the other hand, sounded perfect. I would do that in a couple days, before the Battle of the Eagle and Lion.

I moseyed two doors south and rapped on the new door with my fist. No response. I waited for a couple of minutes. My only reward was pure silence. Excellent– this entire afternoon was a glorious waste of my time. Oh well. I would have to come again tomorrow.

I stepped into the infirmary. I hadn't been banged up too badly during my time in Garreg Mach– nothing that required more than a quick Heal spell courtesy of myself or someone else. When I was still learning the spell, I didn't know what I was supposed to practice it on, so I would constantly draw little cuts on myself to practice healing them. Sometimes my efforts were, ah, problematic to say the least. But those had been the only times I had been to this particular section of the monastery.

And there, lying on a bed, seemingly sound asleep, was the shock of red hair called Monica von Ochs.

I stared for a while, trying to place where I had seen her before. But for all my effort, I could only draw a blank. Frankly, it was maddening. What had happened to her before she 'ran away' from the monastery? When had the Death Knight captured her?

This… Katáktisi rumbled, almost confused. Check her heartbeat.

Why? It wasn't like Monica wasn't breathing.

Just do it.

Hesitantly, I brought up my left hand and moved towards her. Her arms were lying unexposed at her side below her covers, so it would be a bit difficult to locate the vein on her wrist to easily check her pulse.

Not her pulse, Katáktisi clarified. Her heartbeat.

What's the difference?

We are expecting another Agarthan agent to infiltrate Garreg Mach, and the mole matches her description. I wished to ensure that that theory was correct.

So the Agarthans were adding a third set of eyes to the monastery? Could be helpful. That… still doesn't answer my question, though…

Agarthans do not have heartbeats– the heart is substituted with an artificial core at birth that greatly extends their lifespans. As a consequence, they have a pulse but no heartbeat.

Oh. That made sense, I guess. It was definitely a bit awkward to check, but nonetheless I placed my fingers delicately on her upper chest. The body abruptly began to shift below my touch, and it was only a quick reflex with my right hand that interrupted the trajectory of that sickle-shaped dagger, preventing it from spearing my stomach. But I knew what I felt.

She had no heartbeat at all.

"What do you think you're doing?" 'Monica' demanded.

I glanced behind me. I had decided to come in the middle of the night, when there was nobody around. Surprising– I would have thought that at least someone would be on call in case something happened. "Odesse asked me to keep an eye on you," I ad libbed quickly. "I was just confirming."

The doppelgänger relaxed, an easy grin surfacing on her face. "Oh, you're the–" Her brow furrowed. "Wait, Odesse? If it was Solon, then I'd get it– I'd still hate the old skinbag– but… hang on, who are you, anyway?"

"This thrall belongs to Katáktisi," I lied.

Very convincing, the Crestwraith lauded.

"Oh! I get it. Κατάκτηση is just being a little bitch, huh?" I nearly choked on my own surprise. 'Monica' cackled at her own daring. "C'mon, Κατάκτηση, you can do a lot better than this! I mean, your host can't be older than ten! Where's the avatar of desolation and subjugation that I've heard so much about?"

"This," I insisted at my upstairs neighbor's encouragement, "is an operation dependent on subtlety and subterfuge. You would do well to remember that."

"And for what? You're a weapon, remember, pal? You belong to Thales– and by proxy, you belong to me. I should be able to tell you to kill whoever I want and you should have no choice but to do it! It's the least you can do to enjoy it!"

Katáktisi said nothing, obviously wanting to save face. I could feel its discomfort and its disgust, but beneath that I could pick out a hint of relief. I, personally, wanted nothing more than to punch this particular Agarthan's face in so hard I could use it as a bowl, but that would jeopardize my survivability. I didn't have the heart to tell 'Monica' that as a Crestwraith, I outranked her and realistically I was the one with the jurisdiction to order her around, and not the other way around.

…

"Whatever. You're no fun, Κατάκτηση. The old logs from the war made me think you'd at least be interesting." She groaned exaggeratedly. "Just go away, you lame creature. I'll get in touch with you later about your future job."

I remained silent as I turned and walked away, basically on autopilot. A hateful grimace was nonetheless etched into my face.

Monitoring 'Monica' was not going to be an enjoyable experience, was it?

"Link! Please, a moment of your time!"

I pivoted on my heel to see Seteth barreling down the hallway towards me. What had him in such a rush? Sure, I was almost always en route from one job to another at any given point in my thirty-six hour workday provided I wasn't already at it, but surely it wasn't so bad that the headmaster of the Officer's Academy saw fit to sprint full-tilt just to catch up to me. It must have been a very pressing thing.

"Can I help you, Mr Seteth?" I replied as calmly as I could considering the circumstances.

"It's something of a serious matter," the Nabatean admitted. "What do you think of Flayn?"

Beg pardon? I wasn't quite sure exactly what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. After what we'd talked about last month, I was fairly certain he knew my feelings about her.

Choose your words very, very carefully, Katáktisi advised. He knows. Be prepared to strike first– something you should have done long ago.

Quiet, you clueless creature.

How dare you, it drawled emotionlessly.

"Is this… about–"

"No, perish the thought!" the advisor asserted with a smile on his face, clearly correctly assuming I was going to bring up the Goddess Tower. Darn, I had been hoping to use that to deflect the conversation. "I have been asking everyone for their opinions regarding my sister, in light of something she told me. Some scoundrel has been making her life difficult at the monastery– can you imagine?!"

I think she was referring to him, if my very rapidly building assumption was correct. Seteth was a smart man, but when it came to his daughter he had not a single ounce of self-awareness in his entire body. Actually, did 'everyone' include 'Monica'? Because if so, that might be a problem. I reminded myself to remind her to play nice when Seteth– or any Nabatean, for that matter– approached her. She hadn't exactly been subtle as of late, always sticking to Edelgard and Hubert like glue as some part of her impersonation routine. I didn't think anyone else was particularly suspicious of her yet, but still– better to play it safe than blow the lid off this whole operation. Goddesses knew what kind of ramifications that would have.

"She's… a human marshmallow," I said after a moment's deliberation. "I think she's a kind, responsible, and caring young woman. Considering the circumstances, I feel that we're getting along fairly well."

I may as well have told Saint Cichol that he'd won the lottery. "I see. Thank you very much for your time, Link. If you'll excuse me…"

He walked further down the hall with a bounce in his long stride, and I was about to turn back to face where I was going when Flayn collided with me. What was it with the Nabateans today? At this rate, Rhea was going to trip over me down a flight of stairs by the time the hour was out.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as our foreheads collided. I merely sucked in a hissing breath as the pain reared its ugly head.

"Watch where you're going…" I complained.

"Listen… Link… what was my… brother talking… to you about… just now?" Cethleann managed, clearly out of breath from running all this way.

"Well, he asked me about my opinion of you, I told him we were getting along well, and then he left," I said.

Immediately, the young saint's expression morphed into a miffed pout. "Seriously?! That is ludicrous! I already feared the worst… I must confront my brother about this!"

And with that, she was off, following her father's footsteps. Part of me wanted to follow, but I had more pressing work to do. I always did, after all– even back in Hyrule and Termina, I always managed to stumble into extra things to do sideways of my main quest, usually for rewards like money or rare trinkets. I wondered if I could get the people of Fodra to trade high-quality bottles for such odd jobs…

The door swung open, and Dorothea Arnault stepped outside. She quickly appraised me, immediately deciding that I was not a suitable, er, suitor. "Hey… Link, right?"

"Yeah, that's right," I confirmed, voice still shaky from my encounter with the disguise named Monica. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, I was just hoping to ask for a favor."

"What kind of favor are we talking about?"

"I heard from Professor Manuela that you were an accomplished singer," I started, "so–"

Dorothea cut me off. "So you wanted to hear me sing, huh? I don't sing for just anyone, now."

"That… wasn't what I was going to say."

She looked me over again, slightly more interested. "Oh yeah?"

"I'm, uh, something of a musician myself," I said sheepishly. "But every song I know is committed to memory. We didn't have any of, um, this." I dug in my pouch for a moment and withdrew the slightly disheveled book of sheet music. "So I never learned how to read it. And I was hoping that–"

"I'd teach you? Aww, Link– here, come inside. I have a free couple hours."

We stepped inside and took a seat at the enclosed desk. Dutifully, I whipped out my ocarina and waited. The ex-diva rapped the edge of the pages against the table a couple of times before locking eyes with my instrument of choice.

"Never seen an instrument like that," Dorothea commented.

"It's an ocarina," I said, slightly confused. Did they not have those in Fodra? "It's kind of like a flute, I guess? In that you blow into it and cover the holes to make different notes." I demonstrated, the opening to the Song of Time echoing from the instrument with a bit of vibrato to show off. It didn't do anything, of course– it was hardly the Ocarina of Time, after all.

"And you learned that without sheet music? Gotta say, I'm impressed."

"All the more reason to commit it to paper, right?"

Dorothea sighed. "Okay, fair enough. So this thing–" she laid the paper on the desk and pointed out twin series of five bars– "is called the staff. Each line and each space represents a note. The top staff is called the treble clef, and the bottom staff is called the bass clef."

"Uh huh. So this arc and this big squiggle thing–"

"That just tells you the treble and bass."

"But the top one is the treble and the bottom one is the bass. So why do you need that to differentiate them?"

Dorothea shook her head. "Some instruments only deal in one clef."

"Oh." I glanced slightly to the side of the treble curve. "Then what are these numbers? Four-four?"

"The top number is the number of beats per measure– which is this vertical line over here. The bottom tells you which number gets the beat. Since this is 4/4, there are four beats per measure, and the quarter note gets the beat."

I blinked. "Wait, what's the 'quarter note'? Notes are notes."

"It's the difference between:" She cleared her throat. "'La' and 'Laa'."

Uh… "Oh! It's the length!" I exclaimed.

"Now you're getting it!" She smiled. "So, in four-four time, there are four quarter notes in a measure."

"And if it was in six-eight time, there would be six… eighth notes per measure, right?"

"Exactly. You're a quick study!"

"Thanks." I refrained from saying something along the lines of 'growing up, it was either learn fast or die young'. I drew my attention to the weird top hat looking thing. "And what's this?"

"That's a half rest. It means you don't play anything for two beats. An upside down one is a whole rest, and this scribble is a quarter rest."

This was starting to make more and more sense to me. "Okay… so this example here would go…" I squinted at it for a half second. "Da da daa, da-da da daaa, da-da-da-da daa?"

"The tempo is right, but your melody's super flat."

"So how would you do it?"

"This is just your way of getting me to sing, isn't it?" she winked.

"Not if you don't want to," I hastened to say. "I think it would just be a lot easier if I heard it for myself."

"Oh, alright, just this once. Ahem. So la ti, la-so fa so, fa-mi-re-do, mi…"

I peered at the sheet music again. "Wait– does the height of the note on the bar determine the note?! That makes so much sense!" Dorothea laughed. "So if I wanted to play this, it would be…" I put the ocarina back to my lips, and immediately played the wrong note. "Wait, hang on, let me try this again. It would be…" It was completely off-kilter, but I was fairly certain I could get all the notes right. It would come to me with practice.

"Yeah, you've got the hang of it! One last thing– the notes have names."

I tilted my head. "Why?"

"Because a bunch of crusty old nobles like Ferdie in the days of antiquity decided that the piano was the purest form of music," Dorothea sighed.

I tilted my head in confusion. "What's wrong with Ferdinand?" I hadn't really interacted much with the scion of Aegir, but he seemed like an inoffensive enough sort.

"Let me put it in a way you can understand– he's like a bee."

I thought about it for a moment. "Because he's always buzzing around in your ear and being a general nuisance?" I posited.

The opera diva chuckled. "That too. Anyways, this note down here– the one with the line through it– is C. We know the song is in the key of C because there aren't any flats or sharps over by the clef."

"Wait, key of C?"

"It determines the starting point," Dorothea explained. "An octave is 8 keys on a piano, but there's a half-step in the middle. So the major keys are the only ones used in the key of C. With me?"

"I think it would help if I knew what a piano looked like."

Dorothea quickly scribbled a box with black and white bars in it in the margins. There were seven white sections, with two pairs of black sections at the top.

"Oh. So each white bar is a full step?"

"Not quite. Each two bars is a full step. Black and white included."

"Okay, I get it! If you were to start with this key right above C, then you would skip this white key and go onto this black one!"

"Yes, and can you guess what that black key is called?"

"Uh, D?"

"See, that would make too much sense. The black keys are only named in terms of how they relate to the white keys. Since this key is one half-step above C, we call it C sharp. Or, since it's also one half-step below D, it's also D flat. They're interchangeable."

"So the white keys determine the name…" I pointed to the white key next to C. "This one is D, then, and is one whole step above C."

"Mhm! And the next one is E, then F, then G, then…"

"Well, H, of course."

"No. It goes to A."

I sputtered like a dying horse. "That's dumb… is it– hang on– is it because this pattern repeats?

"Right in one, but now it's an octave higher. It's the difference between 'do' and 'do'." The second one was a lot higher in pitch.

"Oh, I think I understand now! Thank you so much!"

"It's no problem. Seeing you get all excited like that is adorable– especially since you're usually working with that scowl plastered on all the time."

I sighed, utterly defeated. "Oh… C'mon…"

When I awoke, I was not awake.

I was in my small room at Garreg Mach, so I didn't immediately assume that this was a dream. I tried to rise, but found that I couldn't move. In fact, I could barely force my lungs to fill and then deflate. My arms and legs felt like they were made of stone, so heavy that I couldn't move them no matter how much I struggled. My every nerve was alight, frenzied with action that could not act.

Somewhat oddly, I couldn't bring myself to do anything but think to myself: did I not prepare well enough? Did I not lock the door? Because he had found a way inside. He was hiding in the shadows.

He found a way inside.

He's hiding in the shadows.

He locked me in my skin.

He's holding Katáktisi.

The day had finally come for the climactic Battle of the Eagle and Lion. It felt as though the entire monastery was abuzz with anticipation, as was the ride over to Gronder Field. The atmosphere had been present for the entire month, but now that the time was upon us, the energy was almost electric. Everyone seemed really excited and confident in their victory.

The Golden Deer were sure to cook up some schemes. Their leader, Claude if I remembered correctly, seemed partial to that sort of thing and was a competent tactician– I had seen him beat Lorenz once at chess. I hadn't exactly been able to ahead before the main envoy of students and Knights and comb the future battlefield for any traps and schemes that may have been planted there. I hadn't looked when we had set up the ballista, but I knew that the terrain itself was pretty balanced.

The Black Eagles were the biggest wildcard. I knew comparatively little about them or their general strategy– they were competent, of course, just as much as any of the other two houses. I knew Petra, Dorothea, that Bernie character… and that was really about it. At least for the Leicester Alliance, I knew Ignatz, Lorenz, Marianne, and Leonie. By contrast, I couldn't say anything definitive about the Adrestian Empire or how they would act in the battle.

The Blue Lions, of course, had my vote. Not only did they have the advantage of having Dimitri, but they also had Professor Byleth. The other two houses didn't have Manuela or Hanneman, as they had elected to sit out the fight due to the former's injuries during last moon. Although admittedly, even if they had attended, Byleth was a much better fighter than either of them.

The weather was nice. Blue skies and an easy breeze… perfect weather for a battle. Rhea, Seteth, and a long batch of Knights of Seiros in ceremonial armor were set up on a cliff overlooking Gronder Field proper. An eagle's screech pierced the sky.

"The Battle of the Eagle and Lion is set to begin at long last," Dimitri said. I could barely hear him from this far away. "Everyone, show off the results of your dedicated training!" He raised his voice to issue a message to his opponents. "You should all know I am not about to go easy on you today!"

"Remember, we're not just fighting for honor!" Claude hollered. "There's a prize at stake! And as long as we pull off the win, doesn't matter how."

"It's almost time to begin," Edelgard reminded. "Our victory must be absolute. Steel yourselves, everyone."

Byleth readied the Sword of the Creator, and locked eyes with me from far below. Waiting for the signal that was sure to come. Or maybe she was looking at Rhea. I couldn't tell given how far away we were from them. That sounded a lot more plausible.

"It is time," Seteth announced. A Knight raised a great banner emblazoned with the sigil of the Adrestian Empire. At least, I thought it was. Clearly that was the signal everyone was waiting for, as the three houses immediately surged forth. My eyes were locked on the Blue Lions and Flayn for some reason, who were met with the disadvantage of being separated from the mainland by a small river. There were two bridges to the east and west, each of which the other two forces made haste to send a small group to capture. It was clear to me that the winner would be decided by whoever took the central hill. Since the Battle of the Eagle and Lion was scored by the last house standing and by whichever house that defeated the most enemies, being able to steal eliminations with the central ballista was a huge advantage.

The Blue Lion house fanned out in two wings to take the bridges. Sylvain, Dimitri, Mercedes, Annette, and Felix moved east to tackle the Empire, whereas Ashe, Dedue, Ingrid, Byleth, and Flayn took on the Alliance forces to the west. Meanwhile, the Golden Deer and Black Eagles finally reached the central hill– however, since the Alliance's resident non-Claude archer, Ignatz, was busy getting pummeled by Byleth, they couldn't use the ballista to its greatest effect. Besides, with the Eagles also occupying the high ground, it wouldn't be very beneficial in the moment anyway.

Felix broke through Ferdinand on the eastern front. With the Eagles shoved back, the Lions quickly pushed further into Empire territory. Sylvain, being mounted, split from the main group to help quell the Alliance's hold on the bridge, which had just received reinforcements by means of Lorenz and Raphael. The other four moved to join the battle on the hill, and a three-way deadlock quickly formed. None of them wanted to give up the high ground, but they also couldn't use the ballista on top, either.

A contingent of Imperial forces slipped over the northern side of the hill and bulldozed straight into the Alliance forces, hoping to take out Claude as quickly as possible to reduce Leicester morale and get rid of their tactician. They scored a number of eliminations, knocking down both Marianne and Lysithea at the cost of Caspar and Linhardt. Even despite their losses, the remaining attackers were able to break through the Deers' defensive line. This forced Raphael to abandon the fight with the Lions to quell the new front, which allowed the remaining Lions to overpower Lorenz– did Ashe just use Dedue as a springboard?

"Heya, Stink," 'Monica''s overly cheery voice cut in.

"Ah!" I muttered, surprised by the outburst. "'Monica', shouldn't you be down there? Y'know, fighting?"

She shook her head dismissively. "I was in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion last year. Feels unfair to throw me in there again, huh?" The last sentence of I would kill all those human beasts without any hesitation whatsoever did not need to be said. "Plus, I'm still recovering from last month's 'incident'."

The Agarthan wearing Monica's skin aggressively ruffled my hair, momentarily exposing my ears for all the world to see. I quickly and discreetly adjusted them before anyone could take notice, but if she saw, she hid it very well.

Hold a moment– did she call me Stink?

Yes, Katáktisi informed.

Wonderful, I drawled. I turned my attention back to the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. The western bridge had fallen to the Kingdom forces. Now the Blue Lion house was throwing its full weight at the central hill. Furthermore, since the only two people left who could use the ballista were Ashe and Claude, they became prime targets for the other houses. It was a shame Bernadetta had fallen so early, although maybe that was part of the opponents' strategy.

The modus operandi of the Blue Lions and Golden Deer became 'protect the archers', while the prime directive of the Black Eagles became 'take down the archers'.

"Hilda! Hilda! Hilda!" Hilda, presumably, cheered for some reason. Unfortunately, the aforementioned Hilda was so busy celebrating her victory over Petra that she created a vulnerability in the Golden Deer's formation, which Dimitri was quick to take advantage of by beelining for Claude.

"Hey, Your Highness!" von Riegan greeted far too cheerfully given the situation. "If you promise to let me have the prize, I'll let you have the honor of victory. Do we have a deal?"

"Enough of your foolishness! I–" Dimitri started before recollecting himself. "Wait a moment. You are trying to anger me, is that it?"

"Hah! Saw right through me, did you? Well, if there's no deal, I'll just have to win this thing fair and square!"

"I will happily face you here and now," Dimitri stated, knowing full well that this would decide the whole battle. "Do not hold back, Claude!"

"Well, no time like the present!" The crown prince was immediately swarmed by at least fifteen generic Leicester swordsmen. I watched Ingrid swoop down out of nowhere to deal with them– didn't she know that fliers got decimated by arrows? She was one shot away from being downed. Claude's arrow flew, striking her mount in the chest and knocking its rider clean off. But Ingrid's sacrifice was not in vain, as it gave Dimitri a perfect opportunity to take down the enemy commander.

"Sorry, but it's about time I made my exit," Claude admitted, stumbling backwards at the might of the blow. "The rest of you, please finish the job!" Ironically, the Alliance combatants fell rather quickly after that– I guessed losing a leader was a big hit to morale. With the Lions being the only ones left who could use the ballista, they formed a defensive barrier around the hill, allowing Ashe to score a number of eliminations from a distance using the siege equipment.

"This is boring," 'Monica' complained. "Where's the brutality? The bloodshed?"

"They're not trying to kill each other."

"Then what's even the point?" How on earth did 'Monica' expect to explain away this massive shift in personality? Nobody was this bloodthirsty out of the gate. People probably assumed it was some kind of response to her treatment at the hands of the Death Knight, but I felt that explanation was flimsy at best.

The Eagles made one last charge.

"If you stand in my way," Edelgard challenged Byleth, "I will cut you down until you have no blood left to bleed." Byleth said nothing in response, expressionless. "What? I was just trying to rally your spirits. Now, to victory!"

The fighting continued for some time. To be quite frank, the mental energy it had taken to observe and take note of what everyone was doing earlier in the battle had left me a bit… frazzled, and I wasn't really as into it as I was when all three houses were still in the fight and it could be anyone's game. There wasn't any tension because I knew the Blue Lion house would win. They had already scored more eliminations and had won control of the ballista. Victory was inevitable.

"That is the end of this year's Battle of the Eagle and Lion!" Seteth announced. "And the winners are… The Blue Lions!"

"Well done, Your Princeliness," Claude was saying. I decided I liked Claude. He was funny and chill. Although the easy grin that was always plastered to his face never seemed to reach his eyes… "I'm certainly not in any hurry to get on your bad side."

We were on the way back to Garreg Mach from Gronder. The air was jubilant with a mixture of relief. I sensed it even vicariously. "I assumed you would attack us head-on," Edelgard said. "Clearly, I need to rethink my opinion of you. Well done, Dimitri."

"You both deserve equal praise for a battle well fought. All three houses did extremely well. Don't you agree, Professor?"

Byleth shrugged. "They were both strong."

"Clearly not strong enough," Edelgard commented. "If there's ever a next time, know that–"

"Hey, princess!" Claude interjected. "Heads up– there's a rat right by your Imperial feet!"

The heir apparent nearly jumped out of her skin. "Bah! I–" She took a second to realize that there was no such mouse present at all. "How dare you make a fool of me! You will not rile me with such childish tactics!"

"Ah, so the sheer terror in your eyes was… something else entirely," Claude teased. "My mistake. Anyways, it was only a joke. And in any case, I hope the day never comes when we have to put this experience to use."

"I wouldn't mind," Edelgard countered. Dimitri took a double take. "I'd accept a challenge from either of you at any time."

"..."

"..."

"I'm kidding, of course!"

"That is nothing to joke about. The true Battle of the Eagle and Lion is best left in the past. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they changed the name of this mock battle."

"Let's do our best to get along," Byleth affirmed.

"How admirable, Teach! On that note, I have a proposition. When we get back to Garreg Mach, let's have a grand feast to break down the walls of our respective houses… and by 'grand' feast, I mean a fairly regular sized feast in the dining hall." Hm. Maybe I would have to swing by this fairly regular sized feast in the dining hall once all was said and done.

"You really value that kind of thing, don't you?" Edelgard observed. "Well, I suppose no harm can come from it. Count me in."

"I have no objections, either. And you, professor?" And he said he wasn't into the professor like that. I knew he was telling the truth, but still.

Byleth smirked. "We'll celebrate our victory."

Dimitri gaped like a dying fish. "Oh! I don't think that's the point… um, Professor… was that a joke?

"You look so… happy. I love seeing you like this. I suppose that look on your face is just another boon from this glorious day. Perhaps the best one of all."

"Get a room, Dima," I grumbled, hopping out of this cart in search of less nauseating conversation. Dimitri was great– he sort of felt like an older brother at this point– but I did not understand what was going through his head at all. Byleth was… she was alright, but she was so flat. It was all of Shamir's deadpanness without the Shamir beneath that, with an unhealthy addition of time travel. And if anyone knew how bad time travel was to any extent, it was me.

I hopped into another cart, which contained Dedue, Linhardt's unconscious body, and Ingrid. The first and last were in a conversation. If this went how their last interaction had gone–

"I'm the one who owes you an apology," Ingrid was saying. Oh. Good. "You've saved my life… how many times now? If I keep being so callous, I'll seem ungrateful."

"No matter," Dedue stated matter-of-factly.

"But–"

"I'm accustomed to it." Ugh, here he went again.

Ingrid sighed, and turned away from the bigger man. "I'm sorry, Dedue."

He seemed surprised. "Why?"

"Because the way I speak to you is unnecessarily harsh. The truth of it is… I lost someone very dear to me in Duscur. The punishment came swift to your people, and when I heard of the slaughters… Well, I thought it was a punishment well earned. I thought the people cruel and heartless, deserving of the tragedy that ultimately befell them." Dedue did not respond for a long time. "But you?" Ingrid continued. "You're different. You seem nothing like the people of whom I speak, and to be quite honest? I believe that maybe those people were never there to begin with.

"So why not speak back against how I and so many others felt? Why not question this unfair prejudice, and tell me to my face that I had no right to judge you?" Her hand tightened into a fist, and her eyes closed. "If you would just speak to me… if you would just tell me the truth about all of this…"

"I do not know the truth of it, myself," Dedue admitted. "His Highness says the tragedy was not the fault of my people. But just like anywhere, there were many different people in Duscur. Some very good, and others very bad. It is not unimaginable that some may have conspired to take part in that wickedness. Perhaps we are merely victims. Or perhaps we are regicidal monsters."

"There's no 'we' here," I blurted. "Even if you're right, and Duscur did perpetrate the Tragedy, nobody should be allowed to hold that against people like you. That's like saying that everyone in the Empire was involved with the Insurrection of the Seven."

"Link."

"Dedue."

"Yes. Whatever the truth of it is, you are not to blame," Ingrid agreed flatly. "The people I hate were the ones responsible for all that mess. You… you just got caught up in all of it."

"Ingrid…"

"You've rushed to my side– you've saved me countless times. I am sorry for how I've treated you. Truly." I could tell that she meant it.

"If you think of me as your ally, that will suffice," Dedue assured. I could tell that he meant it too. Internally, I thought it wasn't enough.

This fairly regular sized feast in the dining hall was pretty good, actually.

I was surrounded by a throng of other students. Raphael was loudly stuffing his face on my left side, and Byleth was doing the exact same thing on my right. I could hear Lysithea grumbling about the sweets-vegetables ratio to a very much disinterested Linhardt. The lords were metaphorically letting their hair down on the far side of the table. Leonie and Mercedes were busy talking about the Battle, Sylvain was hitting on women– which at this point I couldn't even be surprised by– and Hubert was off in a corner doing his 'inscrutable dark and shady tall retainer guy' routine. Ingrid was being aggressively makeup'd by Hilda, Annette, and Dorothea. Ferdinand and Lorenz were off having a nice cup of tea away from the riffraff, across from Marianne and a girl with messy, purple hair– the former of which was probably only there to avoid the more boisterous fate I had been subjected to. It was to the point that I almost couldn't enjoy the tasty food– apparently, it was a Duscur-style curry whipped up by Ashe and Dedue, and boy was I glad I had tampered with that food order back in the Verdant Rain Moon because it was divine. Arguably more so than the progenitor 'god' herself.

Raphael got up to presumably get fourths, which gave me some much-needed breathing space. I hated eating with people. I felt like I didn't deserve to be privy to their conversations; I wasn't a member of the Officer's Academy, and furthermore, I didn't have very much to say. On top of all of that, I preferred to just get in, eat, and get out. It saved time, which allowed me to get more work done in a given day. Still, being included sometimes was nice.

I allowed the sounds of merriment to wash over me. With the end of the Battle of the Eagle and Lion came the great release of all that pent-up anxiety, and now everyone was just having a good time. I could hear the sounds of Caspar and Petra having an impromptu arm-wrestling contest, Ignatz nerding out about paints in Flayn's general direction, and Felix was nowhere to be seen in the slightest. Dimitri, Claude, and Edelgard were now talking about the upcoming White Heron Cup, which apparently was a dance competition between the three houses set to occur during the Ethereal Moon. I vaguely remembered there being a dance around then last year, but I had known little about the cup.

I was stirred from my thoughts by the loud clank of china on wood. I looked down in surprise to find that a massive slab of meat on a plate had been set in front of me. Strangely, I hadn't even remembered finishing off my actual meal. Bewildered, I looked up at a very expectant Raphael.

"If you wanted me to move, you could have just said so," I said, a bit miffed.

"What? Nah! This is for you, Link!" the bigger man exclaimed, beaming widely.

I nearly choked on my own surprise. "I– what? If I wanted more, I would have gotten it."

"But you barely ate anything!" he explained, as though it were supremely obvious. "Heck, even my little sis eats more than that! No wonder you look like a stick bug!"

I pivoted to face the wide Leicesterian. "Raphael, with all due respect, I could never hope to match your eating habits."

"That's just 'cause you're not trying hard enough! How are you supposed to grow big and strong if you're starving yourself?" He raised his right arm, and I could see the fabric of his shirt straining against the muscles within.

"Not all of us have the luxury of being able to eat whatever and however much they want," I snapped. I immediately regretted using that tone. He had just been trying to help…

"But you're at the monastery now. And the dining hall's all you can eat, so there's no problem!"

"Raphael–"

"C'mon, it'll be good for you! I promise!"

I groaned to myself. Raphael wasn't taking 'no' for an answer, and something told me he was going to keep pestering me if I didn't just capitulate. I would just have to, for lack of a better term, eat the loss. What was the worst that could happen? Besides, if Raphael was any metric to go by, maybe this would accelerate the termination of my physical dysphoria.

Do not seriously tell me you're been bested by this wall of meat, Katáktisi drawled.

Hey, I complained. It's not like changing your mind is tantamount to defeat.

It explicitly is. Your ideals are molded into those of your opponent.

By that logic, didn't I defeat you on the moon?

Silence.

By your own admission, you would have consumed me, I argued. But you didn't. So obviously, your ideals changed.

Your logic is tortured and your words muddled, the Crestwraith snarled. But it said no more.

"Ugh, fine," I capitulated, picking my fork from the cleaned plate. "Just this once."

"Alright!" Raphael cheered. "Lemme go get fifths and I'll be right back, haha!"

I didn't remember going to sleep, but when I woke up, I felt sick to my stomach. Literally. For some reason, my entire midsection was cramped something fierce. On top of that, a wave of drowsiness was still clinging to my mind. I was normally so much more… normal than this. That wasn't saying much, but still. What gives?

The answer came to me soon enough.

I was going to kill Raphael when I recovered from this.

I think I'm going to call it off there.

Review please!

Louie Yang (FF): I mean, being pals with Byleth seems to be a good enough reason for classmates that were recruited in the monastery phase. I probably will be forced to give out a Read And Find Out (RAFO) card on that front, though.

HiIExist (FF): Yeah, giving Link new toys to play around with is definitely in the cards. I also intend to give some of his other items a couple of upgrades like I did with Farore's Wind, so stay tuned for that.

quadjot (AO3): I decided to give the Fierce Deity an upgraded design only during a later chapter and had to retroactively mention the change from Majora's Mask, so you might be waiting on that proper description for a while. I promise it'll be worth the wait, though!

Equalized Enigma (FF): For sure! I definitely see the Hero of Time as being a very stoic sort of guy mainly because he's compensating for being a victim of Time Travel (patent pending). I do have intentions of letting him ease up as the story goes along, as he becomes more comfortable in his own skin. On an unrelated note, congratulations on being this story's 100th review/comment!

Espada-001 (FF): Hi, welcome to my story! I've definitely nerfed Link a lot for the start of this story (perhaps a bit overzealously), and you're far from the only person to question that. My logic for making Link not quite as strong as the other characters (at least initially) was partially for the sake of ensuring that Link didn't break the story progression by existing, because I felt that if he was too strong he could cause some plot issues– and make the Fódlan characters feel like an afterthought, which I wanted to avoid. There's also the fact that Fódlan's combat is very offense oriented, whereas Hyrule and Termina are more defense oriented– the style of fighting that excels at beating enemies in Hyrule/Termina (I can beat OoT MQ with three hearts and no shield and no fairies without ever dying because attacks are rare and the most important thing is waiting for the enemy's guard to drop) is one that kind of gets hard countered in Fódlan. Then there's a bunch of small things like dysphoria, not using his various items, etc. that help account for the discrepancy. I have given Link plenty of strides in improving his abilities to internalize the techniques of Hyrule, Termina, and Fódlan since Chapter 2; by this chapter, he could probably go toe to toe with most of the students in a 1-on-1 without access to his items and best many of the adults with them– and that's not including Katáktisi. Thanks for your review, I really appreciate it!

DarthFlores (FF): A full year? That's wild to think about. It's been fun for me, and I certainly hope it's been fun for you all as well! I like Ingrid, but she really needs to be confronted about Duscur for her character arc to go forward. It barely happens in Three Houses, so I wanted to use her Dedue supports to really drive that home and help change her mind. Regarding the post timeskip (which I think I've almost hit!) I'd say that the general angstiness of the story goes down as Link matures as a character and comes into his own. I did try to write that exact scene you're talking about, but in the end I'll have to give you a RAFO card for it.

Gundam-Knight-Chris (FF): I'll be the first to admit that I'm taking the plot slow and steady. I like to let the story breathe, explore character interactions, and build up to future chapters; while I've tried not to let that kill the pacing, I can see where you're coming from. I do have to take a bit of umbrage on the comment that Link doesn't feel like Link; I've always read Link as someone who's very stoic and willing to stick his neck out for someone else, but also doesn't like the idea that someone else would do the same for him. He's also pretty busy trying to figure himself out, figure this strange new world out, deal with his mental problems from Hyrule and Termina, and help others where he can. I understand that my portrayal of Link isn't exactly a popular take, so I don't begrudge anyone who disagrees with me.

ChankoLegacy (FF): I am humbled and honored to be in your presence! Support Conversations with the Hero of Time was one of my main inspirations for putting Cobalt Crescent to paper, so I have you to thank for all of this!

Generally, when I write Link being sarcastic, it's mainly to express dislike for being talked down to (even if he's totally not). Basically, it's a reflection of his internal frustration at his own physical form. I just think that works a little better with the themes and tone of the story as a whole. I wrote him to be smart in certain circumstances, weirdly enough, to reflect the fact that Zelda is a puzzle game– Link is good at taking information that is available to him and coming up with answers or solutions to the task at hand. It's kind of like Intelligence versus Wisdom in DnD– Intelligence is knowing that tomatoes are fruit, and Wisdom is knowing not to put it in a fruit salad; I think it's fair to say that Link has a pretty good Wisdom score. He's street-smart. I don't know why I explained it in so many ways. The scenes you mentioned with Cyril and Jeritza are good examples; in the first Link goes "I'm on a bell tower - the bells are about to toll - That might trigger a panic attack because of my experiences in Termina - Cyril doesn't know about that - I should warn Cyril", and in the second Link goes "The Death Knight has brown hair - We're in Jeritza's secret basement - Manuela was stabbed while holding Jeritza's mask - Jeritza is probably the Death Knight". It's not like Link knew 'yeah, that guy's evil' as soon as they met in Chapter 5, and he probably only pieced it together a couple of hours before the rest of the monastery did the same.

On another note, I adore the idea of making Link more or a refined speaker as the story progresses! I wish I had thought of that, because that's so much more interesting than what I was planning. It's a bit late to implement that, though, so I'll simply have to keep trucking along with what we've got. My initial thought would be that the whole time travel thing forced him to grow a more mature and cynical mentality, as you said, and that would be something that he tries to shed as the story progresses. I have written a good amount of teen Link, and I think it's going to work out. I completely agree with you that everyone writes characters differently, and that it's really a reflection of the author's voice– my authorial voice is pretty serious and… I don't want to say 'refined' because that sounds pretentious, but I think that shows in how I write Link. It's not better nor worse than how anyone else writes Link, but it's not for everyone and that's totally okay!

Link working with the Agarthans was something I didn't plan at the start, but came as a natural consequence of how I implemented Katáktisi (I got really good at pronouncing that because I say it to myself so much haha). Seteth and Flayn have been some of my favorite characters to write, Cyril's underrated IMO, and Rhea will be getting her own dedicated scene pretty soon as well. I'm looking forward to uploading it!

Sorry for dropping such a massive response– there was so much to talk about! Thank you very much for your great review– I'll have a lot to think about as the story progresses!