"I can't believe it," Mimir muttered out loud from Kratos' hip as the brigand marched down the stairs. "I just can't. Bloody. Believe it."

"Mimir," Kratos asked his friend with mild concern. "What has gotten into you?"

"Dah, I'm sorry, Brother. I just can't get over everything that has happened recently."

"Our collaboration with the Archbishop is only temporary," Kratos informed him. "But your actions have been… quite uncharacteristic of you."

"I know, Kratos," The head insisted. "It's just that- I can tolerate much of the questionable standards here thanks to my time spent with Odin and King Oberon, but the fact that they dragged that innocent boy into their mess is just beyond the pale. The entire situation would have had me stomach churnin' if I had one."

Kratos had just reached the bottom of the stairs before taking a left towards the stone bridge. "Is that the only reason you are this angry?"

"...Nay, it's not only that. I've recently been doing a bit of digging into the nobles' histories regarding their crests; and what I found, is that for every major good deed these houses were able to accomplish, there are five more unsavory things to follow in quick succession."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm saying that from what I've observed, the Crest System that the Church upholds has been responsible for more harm than good. You remember the little disagreement we had with Seteth a month ago, right? Regarding young Gautier's older brother? Well, I wasn't exaggerating for the sake of validating your points. That really is how serious the head of each House is regarding their Crests."

Kratos listened attentively as Mimir continued to vent his frustrations. The stone bridge stretched ahead of them, leading to the main Cathedral as the Spartan hurried his way across.

"I've been trying to wrap my head around this Crest business," Mimir grumbled, "and I'm finding it increasingly difficult to accept. These crests were supposed to be blessings from the Goddess, symbols of her divine favor. But in reality, they've become tools for power, manipulation, and discrimination."

"I understand why that upsets you."

"And does it not upset you as well?" Asked Mimir.

"Of course it does. But we will continue this discussion another time."

"Aye, fair enough. By the way, where are we going exactly?"

"To the Cathedral."

"To try and find Ashe, I assume?" Mimir was answered with a confirming grunt. "What makes you think he'll be there specifically?" This time, he was not provided an answer.

From nearby, a hooded figure in church clothing watched as the men left before turning to leave in the opposite direction.

x-x-x

Kratos pushed open the doors of the cathedral building, and one of the first people he saw was Dimitri, leaning against one of the stone pillars closest to the door as if to hide behind it. Dimitri had his arms crossed and his gaze fixated on the many rows of empty pews. Upon hearing the doors opening behind him, the prince turned to the men and offered a slight nod.

"Sir Kratos. Professor Mimir." He said in a low voice.

"Your Highness." The Norse god greeted in kind. "How's the young lad been doing?"

"Hard to say," Dimitri shrugged before nodding to one of the pews closest to him. "When he left the chamber, he came straight here and hasn't moved since."

Kratos followed his gesture and could see Ashe's gray hair sticking out from over the bench as he bent his head down low, seemingly in prayer. "Have you tried to approach him?"

The House Leader shook his head. "I wanted to wait and see what he'd do first. Though, when I saw him walking towards the bridge, I had a strong urge to tackle him; but somehow I knew he'd never try and do something so foolish." Dimitri couldn't help a lighthearted snort. "After all, his faith in the Goddess is second to none."

The Ghost of Sparta paused for a moment as though he were lost in thought. "His adoptive father- Lonato. What can you tell me about him? What has happened to cause the man to instigate such an uprising?"

Dimitri and Mimir looked at one another to see who would answer, and eventually, Mimir spoke up first. "Well, unlike the rest of their peers, the House of Gaspard is one of the very few to have held the title of Lord without themselves possessing a crest. Instead, Lord Lonato comes from a line of deeply respected leaders- and for good reason. In times when relations between the Kingdom and the Empire were shall we say, tense- the Gaspards were always the first to engage as they held the border between both nations. Even during the most undesirable circumstances, Lonato has always been described as very noble and a true gentleman. Did I get everything right, Your Highness?"

The prince nodded. "You are correct, Professor. Lord Lonato was also one of those most loyal to the Church due to the Kingdom's strong ties with them. That was, until…" The House Leader took a moment to think about what to say next before he shook his head despondently. "Forgive me, Sir Kratos, but I don't think I can finish that story for you."

"Not to worry, Your Highness." Mimir quickly covered for him, knowing exactly what the boy was implying. "Long story short, Brother, Lord Lonato's biological son had been wrongfully accused of an assassination and was executed by the Church for it. No judge, no trial. Just a swift and gross miscarriage of justice." He pursed his lips. "Young Ashe may have been easy to forgive the Church for the misunderstanding, but apparently, not Lonato."

Both pairs of eyes were now on Kratos as if to inquire what they should do next, and after a moment's deliberation, the Spartan lifted Mimir's head from his side and handed him out to Dimitri. "Here. Head back to the classroom and inform the students that all lectures are done for the day. I will speak with the boy."

"Aye," Mimir concurred. "And in the meantime, Your Highness, how's about you drop me off at the library so I can catch up a bit more on your Kindgom's history?"

"It would be my pleasure, Professor," Dimitri said as he took the head from Kratos' hand and turned to leave.

x-x-x

Ashe was not aware of Kratos' presence until he finally lifted his head from the long prayer he'd been making. At first, he'd open his eyes to see a shadow befalling him, and he looked up slowly to see the ashen-skinned warrior standing over him. Kratos' expression remained neutral, though his eyes did give off a softer look to his intimidating stature.

"Oh! Sir Kratos," The archer started, though his voice was coarse. "I… I did not see you there. Do you need me to return to the classroom? My apologies, I did not mean to run off the way that I-"

The Spartan lifted a placating hand to encourage him to remain seated. "No need to explain." He spoke in a surprisingly soft voice that made even Ashe couldn't believe Kratos possessed. "Not about that." He then gestures to the empty space next to his student. "...May I sit here?"

Ashe's mouth hung slightly agape but eventually managed a nod. Then slowly, as though out of fear any sudden movement might frighten the boy away, Kratos eased himself into the pew next to him. Moments passed as both teacher and student watched the Church choir rehearse their song, and the Ghost of Sparta was contemplating whether he should try and say something to the lad, or simply let his presence be enough for him. However, that decision would ultimately be decided for him as Ashe spoke up.

"There must be some mistake." He said absentmindedly. Kratos turned his head to look at his student, however, Ashe continued to keep his gaze focused in front of him. "Lonato would never raise his arms against the Church."

Another moment of silence passes, and this time, Kratos initiates the conversation. "Your stepfather… what was he like? Right before he sent you here."

"I…" Ashe thought, "He told me that… no matter what happens, I should always strive to be the best man that I can be, as well as the best leader that my troops deserve. He said that he was proud of how far I'd come so far, but also that I still had a long way to go." He shook his friend in frustration. "Why? Why didn't he tell me about any of this? Why did he continue to harbor so much hatred for the Church and attempt to fight something he couldn't possibly win against…"

He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, and the archer finally looked back at Kratos, whose eyes met his with an empathetic gaze. "I cannot speak for Lonato. But if I were in his position, I would say that it was to protect you."

Ashe took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Then that would mean he'd been planning this for a long time. Probably since…"

Suddenly, an idea came to mind. "I was told that you were an avid reader and that you have a unique adoration for stories." Kratos suggested, "Would you like to hear one?"

At first, Ashe looked at Kratos as though he wasn't sure if he was serious or not. But after looking at the Spartan's face of unwavering sincerity, the gray-haired archer couldn't help but give a small smile as he replied. "Yes, I… I'd really like that."

His professor nodded in satisfaction and cleared his throat so that he could speak clearly and with purpose:

"A long time ago, a man found guilty of murder escaped from his homeland; and traveled to a faraway land so that he may start anew. Eventually, he found love, and they had a family deep in the wilderness so that they could live their lives in peace and isolation. As the years went on, the man was afraid that one day, his son may learn the truth of his deeds, and resent him for it. However, the more the man did not tell him, the more the rift between them grew. It was not until the day came that the man's past had finally caught up to him and was forced to confess his sins. Instead of pleading for his life, the father only asked that his son be a better man than he once was. And the son, wrought with guilt upon realizing what he had truly felt for his father, promised that he would honor that wish."

Ashe continued to listen as though there was more to Kratos' story, but upon realizing that the story had ended, he gave his teacher a confused look. "That's… not a very happy ending, but… I can see what the moral to that story is."

The Spartan gave the boy a firm squeeze on the shoulder. "Lonato knows that he could not overcome his grief. He has made his choice."

The archer's face twisted in anguish. "The Archbishop is sending us to help deal with the rebellion, aren't they?"

"You do not have to come with us if you are-"

"No, Sir Kratos." Ashe suddenly sat straight up and looked his professor dead in the eye. "If there is the chance that I can talk Lord Lonato out of this, then I won't stand by and allow any more unnecessary bloodshed. Not just because he is my adoptive father. But I also refuse to believe that there isn't any other choice. Not if I can help it." His face softened upon realizing who he was actually talking to and then added respectfully. "Um, sir."

Unbeknownst to him, Kratos was stunned by the sheer similarities between Ashe and Atreus. Minor similarities in terms of looks were one thing, but the added sincerity in how they spoke and what they were fighting for was what had ended sealing the deal for Kratos, who let out an uncharacteristic chuckle.

"I am glad to hear it."