Swiggity swooty, I'm coming with another chapter. It's a big one, too.
Chapter IX
Flayn made me a garland.
I guess it was true to the name of the month.
"What's this for?" I asked.
"I read recently that in this moon, it is common for people to weave garlands of white roses for their friends. Since we are friends, I thought it might improve your dour demeanor." My… what?
"Flayn, I've interacted with you maybe twice. And on top of that… I kind of thought these garlands were for, like, people who were married and stuff. I appreciate the thought, but this is…a bit much."
"Oh my!" The Nabatean appeared quite shocked. "I had no idea! Please accept my humblest of apologies!"
"Really, it's fine…" I got out. She was starting to compete with Mercedes for the best living representation of a marshmallow. I cracked a smile, but it didn't seem to put her at ease. That was probably for the best. "Also, did you just call my demeanor 'dour'?"
Katáktisi, what does 'dour' mean?
Very severe and gloomy.
Wonderful. I was being completely sincere.
"Well, I had simply noticed that you interact with me and my older brother differently than you do with the other residents of the monastery. I thought that if I gave you a token of friendship, you would treat me the same as anyone else who lived here."
"'Your older brother?'" I echoed. Since when did Seteth have another kid? Then the realization of what I had said hit me. "... is… well, he's Seteth. Before you came to the monastery, he warned me to keep a little distance from you. Indirectly." That was a blatant lie, but I was hoping that Seteth's habit of shooing off potential suitors made it believable enough to not warrant questioning.
Flayn pouted. "That is ludicrous! Please excuse me– I must give my older brother a piece of my mind!" Shoot, that was not the reaction I wanted!
"No, no, no, no, no! Please– it's not a problem," I hastened to say. "Tell you what– let's just forget that this conversation ever happened. You forget about Seteth, I forget about the garland." Or at least, its implications.
"If that is what you want, then I will abide."
I stuffed the white flower wreath into my pouch and errantly waved her away, but she remained rooted, observing what I was doing. Was she going to leave, or–
Kill her.
Would you stop that?
No.
"Do you ever miss home, Link?" I paused my task. Where did that question come from?
"..."
"..."
…
"No. I don't."
"Really?" This answer seemed to boggle her tiny little mind. "Everyone has memories of their past. Would you tell me about it?"
We were a tiny commune living deep in the woods of northern Faerghus," I recited, the words coming as naturally to me as the thrust of a blade. I had been practicing both. "We were completely outside the influence of the country– heck, I didn't even know there was a world outside of the woods until I left it. I… don't remember much about it. It was a long time ago."
"Nothing? Truly?! I can scarcely go five minutes without missing Mother…"
"If I recall correctly, your mother passed away just a couple of moons ago," I said, the lie passing uninhibited through my lips. "She is… more fresh in your mind than my home is for me."
The bell rang, signifying the passing of another hour. I tensed subtly for a moment, muscles immediately primed to start running to the next objective and oh Farore I only had fourteen hours left, what was I doing, I had to go–
The bout of horror was gone as soon as it had arrived, and if Flayn had noticed, she didn't comment on it or make any other signs of acknowledgement. "Look at the time." I lied. "I have to, uh, go take care of something bye!"
I made haste to get out of there as quickly as possible, far away from Saint Cethleann. I couldn't let her get onto me. Then the only option would be to claw my way out. There was another reason, of course; I could feel the Salesman's– no, Caiaphas's eyes on me. He hadn't left that stall of his since last we spoke. Suffice to say I wanted to put as much distance between me and him as possible. And the sooner I could get him out, the better.
That being said, it was going to be exceedingly difficult to get him that mask and be done with it. Its placement in Zanado was particularly problematic– the Church forbade casual pilgrimages to the Red Canyon, and I doubted the explanation of 'well, the skinny man with the creepy smile lost custody of his mask, and…' was going to convince them to make an exception. Besides, from what Katáktisi had told 'Tomas', it was a trap specifically designed to remove me from the equation. I would need to be completely prepared, and probably bring backup of some kind. That would most likely be its own ordeal. I would have to be content with merely laying the groundwork for an eventual sojourn back to the forbidden city for now. It wasn't so bad; I had almost a whole year to do so, after all.
The weeks passed me by, blending into each other. I had long since fallen into a routine at Garreg Mach. Actually, it was more like I had been dragged kicking and screaming into a routine. I had staved off any sense of normalcy out of paranoia that I would be somehow discovered by the Nabateans. If I wanted to remain hidden in plain sight, I would need to keep my guard up at all times. But the easy monotony of life at the monastery was starting to get to me.
Rumor had it that one of the western Faerghusian lords had marshaled an army and was marching on the monastery. That couldn't possibly be good, although Katáktisi wasn't particularly against the attack from an ideological standpoint. Catherine was to be deployed with a handful of the Knights of Seiros to quell the insurrection, alongside Professor Eisner's students for some reason. I understood getting field experience, but after being sent to deal with the ruffians at the Red Canyon, this was a bit much.
It would seem that the archbishop is biased towards the professor, Katáktisi noted.
It's just as likely that she's biased towards Dimitri, by that logic. Or any member of the Blue Lions.
If the so-called timeloop ever pushes us back to before said professor makes her choice, you will watch as Seiros bends over backwards to give that house all the work.
I made a face. Don't say things like that. You'll make it come true.
There hadn't been any other instances of rewinding time outside of me falling down the stairs at the start of the Great Tree Moon. I wasn't complaining, to be sure, but it wasn't great for me either. It just made me paranoid.
Well, more paranoid than I already was, anyway.
By all that the Golden Goddesses had deemed holy, I hated everything right now.
'Tomas' was out on a trip to the Empire. He apparently needed to grab some dusty old books from ancient times, before the foundation of the Alliance. I guess that made sense, since he was a librarian. But it left me all alone in this damnable library.
And I couldn't reach the accursed shelf.
It was right there. I knew that if I were an adult, I would be able to grab the book of my desires with total ease. But I was stuck with these ungodly short baby arms, a limited reach that I imagined I would never get used to. The object of my hatred was a small tome on the workings of magic. It was a bit more advanced than Introduction to Magic, so hopefully it would tell me more about how it worked. If I were to ever face mages in battle, it would be important to know what made them tic.
There weren't any convenient items that I could use as a step stool in my vicinity. I couldn't exactly climb up the bookshelf– it was freestanding, so my weight would probably pull it over. That would be a hassle and a half to clean up. So here I was, struggling to do something I should have been able to do with ease.
I'd felt this way, or at least similarly, when I had first left the Temple of Time. I'd felt like a glove, a glove that had been woven for a child, now being stretched over the hand of a giant. I'd felt stretched, too long and too wide by both a kilometer and a hair at the same time. Now it was the opposite– the glove had been given back to that kid for whom it was made, but it was still pulled taut, and now it hung loose. Now everything was too loose, too thin and reedy to fit. The glove's proportions were annihilated, and they would never return. Not truly.
My eyes scanned the isolated corner of the library. There was no one around. I was in the clear. It was high time I made the decision that could not be undone. My off hand strayed into my pouch, left hand still vainly trying to reach the stupid book. I could feel my fingers curling around–
"Good afternoon, Link," someone said.
I nearly jumped out of my skin, arms jolting away from where they were. "Ah! Don't scare me like that!" I whirled on the voice, quickly identifying its owner as Ashe from the Blue Lions.
"Sorry if I startled you! Do you need help?"
"For the love of–" I muttered, turning back to the book while grasping at the open air. "No, I can definitely reach it, it's right there–"
Ashe casually walked over and grabbed the book. "Here. This seems a lot easier, right?"
I spat a low curse in the ancient language, the sound not traveling past my ears. "I hate temporal dysphoria…"
"Watch your tongue," Katáktisi castigated. It was pointedly ignored.
"Thanks, Ashe," I finished lamely.
"It's no problem. Honestly, I'm surprised to see you here. Nobody ever comes to this part of the library, except Tomas and Seteth sometimes. Plus, you always struck me as more of the outdoorsy type."
"It's nice and quiet here. It's easy to focus," I explained. "And I like the feeling of the sun on my skin and the wind in my hair as much as the next guy, but sometimes a change of pace is nice. Plus, with how humid this summer's been…" I shrugged. It was very humid further south; at least Fhirdiad was crisp year-round. My hair was definitely going to get frizzy if this kept on.
Ashe nodded. "I agree." He cracked open his book– a text that clearly had been shown much love, if the worn cover was anything to go by.
"What are you reading? If you don't mind me asking."
The gray-haired boy's eyes lit up. "Loog and the Maiden of Wind. It's very important to me."
That sounded dreadfully boring. Also, what kind of stupid name was 'Loog'? It sounded like someone was mispronouncing 'look'. At least 'Link' not only meant something, but was more ergonomic. Whatever ergonomic meant. "What's it about?"
"Loog, the King of Lions, and his sworn knight Kyphon were historical figures who won Faerghus' independence from the Empire! It's one of my all-time favorites! You see…"
Ashe launched into a lengthy diatribe about how powerful and chivalrous Loog and Kyphon were, and how insurmountable their odds of victory were against the Empire. I more or less tuned him out.
"Sounds interesting," I lied through my teeth. "Where I'm from, we didn't really have books." Well, that wasn't exactly right. Hyrule had had books, but I had never had the opportunity to read them. On top of that, I had never had enough time in Termina to appreciate its literature. It was certainly true for the Kokiri, though. "Our stories were passed down orally. Maybe I'll have to give this 'Loog and the Maiden of Wind' of yours a try."
A wide grin crosses Ashe's face. The boy probably needed it– if it really was his adoptive dad that was leading the rebellion up in western Faerghus like I'd heard, Ashe needed a distraction more than ever. "That sounds lovely! I could check a copy out of the library for you once Tomas gets back from Ochs. In return, maybe you could tell me some of your stories sometime?"
"That sounds nice," I agreed, before realizing exactly what we had agreed to. Shoot. Well, I couldn't take it back now…
"You seem distant," I said.
Catherine turned from the freshly pulverized dummy. "It's hard not to be."
"Why?"
"You know about what happened to Lord Lonato," she said. It was not a question; I had heard the outcome of last month's mission from Dimitri himself. Lonato had raised a militia from the local peasants and had marched on Garreg Mach… the Blue Lions had put it down along with him. "On his person, we found a message from the Western Church. It contained a plan to assassinate Lady Rhea."
"Well then," I said. A plot to kill the archbishop? "That seems incredibly ill-advised."
"Perhaps, but we will have to be on high alert for the whole moon, including before and after the Rite of Rebirth."
They do not intend to kill Seiros, Katáktisi noted.
How do you know? I asked. Killing Seiros is, like, your thing. Your modus operandi.
It is. No human, or collection of humans, could achieve such a thing. My power is her end. Anything else is suicide.
People are pretty dumb.
People also have a visceral fear of death. The missive the Church received is nothing but subterfuge.
I rolled with it. "That sounds like a real threat. Is there anything I can do to–"
"It's alright," Thunder Catherine assured, shaking her head. "The Knights are going to have the cathedral on lockdown. You should ask one of the professors. The houses are in charge of guarding the other sectors of the monastery."
"Will do," I replied. "Say, that dummy's not looking so hot. Mind if I sub in?"
"I certainly do," Catherine definitely didn't say. Before I had time to place the progenitor of the interruption, I was being roughly shoved aside. I managed to stay on my feet, narrowly avoiding making facial contact with the rough stone of the training grounds.
Felix Hugo Fraldarius. The nerve!
"What the hell, Felix," the Knight of Seiros demanded.
"I've waited too long to test your steel," he drawled. "I'm not going to let some kid too small for his britches take this chance away from me."
"It's fine," I assured Catherine. "I have some other things that I need to get done anyway. Maybe we can pick this up later?"
Cyril was no Thunder Catherine, but he would do.
I had been half-recruited and half-strongarmed into helping with Cyril's training by Shamir. His axe skills were very solid, but his bow prowess needed a bit of work. I had offered to help, and now here I was.
"Just don't kill each other," the ex-merc ordered in that flat way of hers. "Barring that, treat this like real combat."
I brandished my own bow, preemptively fingering an arrow from deep within my pouch. With a whisper of magic, frigid malice coated the tip as I nocked it. I didn't want to freeze him solid– I had been the victim of ice magic at the hands of Hyrule's Twinrova a handful of times, and it wasn't a fate I'd wish upon anyone. But I figured if I could freeze Cyril's boots, I could hinder his mobility easily enough.
Cyril nimbly dodged out of the way in the nick of time, responding with his own arrow. I ducked under it, letting it sail harmlessly past. A cry of confusion distracted me– I looked past Cyril for a moment to see Caspar von Bergliez of the Black Eagle house, staring dumbfounded at a freshly ice-coated training dummy. "My bad!" I hollered, but the momentary lapse was enough for Cyril to land an arrow squarely in my right shoulder. I couldn't let that go unanswered, so I rapidly closed the distance, drawing my gilded sword from its place in my pouch with my right hand. Cyril, in response, dropped his bow and readied his axe.
It was exactly the opening I was looking for.
Quick as a flash, I locked weapons with Cyril. Out of everyone I had ever fought in Fodra, his physical strength was most likely the closest to my own. But what I lacked in bulk, I made up for in ingenuity, tactics, and an unforeshadowed arsenal of ridiculously powerful, unregulated weapons of mass destruction. My opponent was quickly overpowering me, given that I was using my sword in my right hand and Cyril had both of his hands on the handle of his weapon compared to my one.
I gave up all resistance, throwing my bow straight up into the air and dropping my sword entirely–
And I caught it with my left hand, which was now waiting in anticipation.
With a new bout of strength, I managed to shove the Almyran's axe away from its precarious position. Momentarily shaken, Cyril rallied himself and managed to slam his fist into my left bicep. He immediately followed up with a barrage of punches, and while I pulled my Mirror Shield out of my pouch to block most of them, a small number still got past my guard.
Instinct told me the moment was arriving. I dropped my sword, reached up with my left hand, and seized the bow that was now plummeting out of the sky. When I had taken out my shield, I had also brought a single arrow along for the ride. Now that arrow was nocked, tongues of flame dancing around the head, primed to fire mere inches from Cyril's head.
"Let's call it there," Shamir interrupted. "Link. You're only going to get so much out of shock value."
"That was not 'shock value'!" I argued, loosening the bowstring. "I was just pressing the advantage I knew I had!"
"Once you use an advantage, it's gone. Almost none of whatever that was is going to work in a real fight. Don't get complacent– your tricks aren't going to last forever."
I guessed that was fair. I was still far more suited to one-on-one combat scenarios. "Yes, Shamir."
She started to criticize Cyril, and I started to tune her out. I was eventually dismissed, but on my way out of the training grounds, a flash of white caught my eye. I paused and glanced down to see what looked like a misplaced handkerchief. I could probably drop it in the Officer's Academy's Lost and Found. I picked it up, and was repulsed by its sogginess.
Do. Not. Breathe, Katáktisi ordered. The cloth is laced with a chemical depressant. Inhale but a breath, and unconsciousness will be your only reward. Perhaps even death, given your… stature.
Blegh. I tried my best not to be insulted. Why is it here?
How the hells should I know? It most likely belongs to the Empress' steward. The one that looks like a giant human bat.
Oh. Hubert, I surmised. His room was on the second story, because he was of House Vestra and the second floor was where all the noble kids slept. Nothing to do but return it.
Well, this was the place. I knocked on the door. There was no response. Unfortunate, but I would simply have to–
"I must admit, most people who come to my door do not do so willingly."
I whirled on my feet to see the object of my search, Hubert von Vestra himself. I could all but see his calculations in his eyes, sizing me up and ultimately deeming me not a threat. Oh, the minor joys of being a child. More like joy– singular.
"Hey, it's exactly the guy I want to see!" I said, overly cheery to try and lean into the 'idiot child' angle as much as possible. "Someone left this handkerchief full of drugs at the training grounds, and I was fairly certain it was yours, so–"
"You're more observant than I gave you credit for," Hubert admitted, taking the proffered cloth. "Not saying much, of course."
"Uh huh." My expression tightened despite myself.
"My goodness, did I say that out loud?" the Black Eagles student all but mocked. "It appears that my tongue is the one with more maturing to do."
I processed the words that left his sniveling mouth.
"I hate you."
"That's normal." Then Hubert laughed– a low, menacing chuckle that would have scared the shorts right off my legs had it not been missing one critical element.
"Your evil laugh needs more in the way of… how should I put this… 'manic energy'," I suggested. "You need to sound like you've just lost your mind and you're about to do something absolutely insane. Nothing scares people more like the unknown, and the uncertainty of what you'll do when you're done cackling will only amplify that. Case in point– you no longer have any idea what to make of me after this monologue. It's the same principle."
"It's clear that you've put a disproportionately large amount of thought into this," Hubert commented. "Although if my sole aim was to keep you away from my dormitory… well, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"Because I'd be dead?"
"I see you have the grasp of it."
"Understandable. In the future, I'll try to meet you away from this location. Preferably within line of sight of multiple witnesses." I thought it was fairly clear that both of us were joking on at least some level, and I was certain that we weren't being serious. Which were two very different things.
Whatever I had been expecting today, half of the Golden Deer House carrying a mattress towards the fishing pond at the crack of dawn was certainly not it. Didn't they have more important business to be doing at this hour? I could think of a couple of things, most of which happened to be named Remire.
"Shhh. It's a prank. You know what a prank is, right? Watch this," was Claude's only response. A dash of morbid curiosity overcoming my sense of suspicion, I allowed them to go on their way. I observed the whole house– well, actually not the whole house; Lorenz, Ignatz, Marianne, and Lysithea were suspiciously absent– giggling like Saria as they gently placed the mattress in the pond. I was surprised that it was able to float, especially considering the fact that Knight-Captain Alois was fast asleep on top of it. The bed drifted deeper into the little lake, with the mustachioed man making no signs of having awoken.
At least the part of me that still vainly thought it was a child was getting a kick out of it.
"Why did you think I didn't know what a prank was?" I asked.
"You act so serious all the time, y'know," Hilda shrugged. "Like your only experience with comedy was some Alois-tier jape."
"A: that doesn't mean I'm not familiar with the concept," I argued, "and two: is this really the most productive usage of your time?"
"Well, when you put it like that…" Raphael frowned. "Don't worry, Alois! I'll come and bring you right back!"
"And there he goes," Leonie drawled, her observation punctuated by a gargantuan splash.
"Whose brilliant idea was this?"
"Claude's!" Hilda exclaimed, immediately pointing a painted nail directly at the house leader.
"Hey, in our defense– it was funny," Claude defended. "See?" He tilted his head towards the lake, where a figure rose from the mattress.
"What in blazes is the meaning of–" Alois started, before Raphael's massive body grabbed onto the impromptu raft and promptly capsized it, throwing the older man into the icy water. The three Deer who weren't currently swimming burst out into raucous laughter. I wished they weren't there– the Zora Mask would make short work of this particular problem. Actually, I hadn't ever tried to use the transformation masks in Fodra– excluding Katáktisi, of course. I would have to make a note of trying them on at a later date.
"Y'know," I said, idly inspecting my fingernails, "it'd be a real shame if somehow, Seteth found out about this…"
"Are you seriously trying to blackmail me?" Claude exclaimed, faux hurt. "Link, I thought we were friends."
"Just making an observation," I commented. "Y'know, I heard he likes to fish early in the morning. And if he sees the mattress…" I tossed a hand towards the still partially submerged Raphael and Alois. "Well, I can think of a particular quartet who would be in for a long lecture. And at least seven disapproving facial expressions. If I were you?" I paused for dramatic effect. "I'd get swimming."
"But I already spent half an hour doing my makeup!" Hilda pouted. "Link, could you do it? We'd really appreciate it if you could spare us Seteth's wrath… he's so scary!"
"You're such a drama queen, Hilda," Leonie drawled. "We'll just catch the mattress with a fishing rod, and…"
Rangeld and Kirsten finally stepped onto shore– soaked, shivering, and laughing their lungs out.
"Link, right?"
I looked up from the stall, surprised that Professor Eisner knew my name. "You know my name, professor?"
"Dimitri mentioned it, and I've seen you around the monastery. You never really talked to me, though, so my curiosity was piqued." She stood perfectly in the doorway, almost oppressive in her demeanor and her control of the space. Had I not already been subjected to horrors beyond imagination, I might have been cowed. Maybe. "It's nice to meet you."
"Same to you." I kept distributing feed in silence. "Is that all?"
"Well, there is something I could use help with," Byleth stated, that smile on her face again. It wasn't a real smile, though; it was like if someone who had never felt even basic contentment before had been told what a smile was and this was their first attempt at reconstructing it. Aside from emptiness, that was the only expression I'd ever seen her wear. "My house was instructed to guard the monastery during the Rite of Rebirth, and frankly we could use as many hands on deck as we can. Would you be interested in giving us a hand?"
"You had me at 'something I could use help with'," I said, patting the horse's head as I looked away. "The Rite is on the twenty-sixth, right? And today's the day before Flayn's birthday, which means it's the eleventh–"
Byleth blinked. "Tomorrow is Saint Cethleann Day. I wasn't aware that it was Flayn's birthday as well. I'll have to buy flowers."
They could not have made it more obvious, Katáktisi said, aghast.
Made– I thought about it. If Flayn was Cethleann, putting her holiday on her birthday was not very smart if she wanted to keep her identity a secret. Hopefully it wasn't the same for the other Nabateans. Oh my god.
"Put my name on it too," I said. "I'll pitch in a couple of coins. And if you need anything else in the meantime, I'll be happy to assist in any way I can."
The time had come. At long last.
The Goddess' Rite of Rebirth was going on in the cathedral. Most of the Knights were on guard up there, as was Cyril. And here I was, weapon drawn alongside the rest of the Blue Lion house, in the deepest recesses of the Holy Tomb.
And there were, like thirty Western Church guys just kind of hanging out. Well, at least we were doing better than just guarding a coffin.
"It is as we suspected," Dimitri commented. "The enemy is within."
"Those Central Church dastards have spotted us…" a masked mage muttered from across the room, his words only rendered audible by my superior Hylian hearing. "Buy me some time while I open the seal on the casket!" So they were… graverobbing?"
No, Katáktisi commented. That is not a grave.
Then what is it? It's called the Holy Mausoleum, and he referred to it as a casket.
It supposedly belongs to Saint Seiros. Well, that would explain it. It would hardly be a tomb if the person it supposedly contained was alive and running the Church. Let the masked one escape. Show the others no mercy.
Slaughter the mooks, but spare the commander? That doesn't make sense–
Better for the Sword of the Creator to leave the Church' hands, no?
That was fair.
"I'm on it," a nearby Western Church fighter commented.
I drew my Gilded Sword and Mirror Shield, and–
And I locked eyes with the ghastly visage of Death itself. It was on a black horse, red eyes glowing from beneath its skull-shaped visor, its armor all red and black and spiky. In its hands was a great scythe, glowing with some violent violet energy.
"The enemy is after the casket of Saint Seiros," Dimitri realized. I didn't have the heart to tell him that Seiros was upstairs performing the Rite of Rebirth. "Do they intend to steal her bones? But look closely at the ground… there are contraptions of some sort in place. We'll have to look closely at the enemies' weapons and advance while attacking from the best positions possible."
"Game plan is simple:" the professor announced. "Split into two teams and go around the spiky armor guy. Stop that mage before he gets away. Got it?"
"It would be a lot faster if we concentrated all our forces in the center and drove straight over the spiky armor guy with our entire weight," I countered despite myself. "He's not just going to stand there and let us flank him."
Byleth looked at me without any emotion whatsoever. I would understand if she was mad that I was calling her out for her incredibly stupid plan, but she was just… flat. "Link. We're doing it this way. If he decides to attack us, we'll deal with it."
"But–" I sighed. "Alright."
And we moved.
Byleth, Dimitri, myself, Annette, and Ashe quickly darted into action on the left side, while Mercedes, Sylvain, Ingrid, Felix, and Dedue took the right. There weren't any enemies in the corner, so we actually stayed together in the main corridor, beelining for the two mages that were in effective range. I wasn't able to get there particularly quickly on account of my short legs, but I got to watch as the professor almost decapitated the poor guy, leaving Ashe to pick him off. I wheeled on the second guy to see that Ingrid and Sylvain already had him covered, and Mercedes was stitching them up with some healing magic. I had actually picked up a healing spell during my time in Garreg Mach– I had never actually used it on a real injury, but now was as good a time as any to test it. Of course, it was rendered moot now.
"Death Knight! Prove your strength and scatter these fools!"
"I don't take commands…" Spiky Armor Man snarled. "And I don't waste time with weaklings." He must have been the 'Death Knight'. Even though he fit the bill for it, it was a very uncreative name.
I like him, Katáktisi commented.
"That knight looks like he has experience," Dimitri observed. "It would be foolish to challenge him recklessly." Byleth looked at me with that same deadpan expression as always, but the fact that she even spared me an extra glance told me whatshe was thinking– that she had just won some argument of supreme import. I rolled my eyes exasperatedly, darting forward and further to the left into the toothy embrace of an enemy fighter.
"What the–" he said, clearly surprised that a twelve-year-old was currently armed and trying to murder him. Granted, it wasn't exactly a common occurrence, but I was so tired of being treated like a child in any way, shape, or form that I didn't bother to think about it from his perspective.
I wasted no time. I punched him in the very easy-to-reach groin and kneed him in the face as he instinctively curled over, successfully knocking him onto his back. From there, all it took was a clean jumping stab directly to the heart, and he was done.
I hesitated, despite the fact that the act was already done. This was the third person I had ever killed– well, fourth if I included that one time I blew up Sakon with his stolen bombs by shooting him with an arrow instead of just punching him. It felt… horrible. In fact, if it weren't for Katáktisi screaming at me to stand up and fight, I wouldn't have noticed the enemy wizard charging a fire spell. I managed to get my Mirror Shield in hand and in the way, interposing it with myself. The magical flame bounced harmlessly off of the silvered surface, careening off towards the roof of the mausoleum. The deflection gave me just enough time to run up and slash him. He prepared another spell, but a sharp blast of wind promptly nipped that in the bud.
"Thanks, Annette," I said.
"No problem!" she replied with far too much cheer than was warranted in the situation, not even noticing Byleth stab a guy two meters behind her. Dimitri was currently locked in brutal close-quarters combat with two swordfighters. I rushed to help, but not before being distracted by another guy who was all up in Ashe's face. I hit him with an Ice Arrow, allowing the gray-haired boy to finish him off, before continuing my dogged sprint. As it turned out, my presence was entirely unnecessary, because Dimitri just grabbed both of their heads and whacked them against each other so hard that they both immediately collapsed like ragdolls. He was sporting some nasty-looking cuts on his chest, though, soiling his clothes with blood.
"Let me get that," I assured, remembering the technique that was in the books of Introduction to Magic. With great effort, some of the skin began to close up. It would do, for now.
"I didn't know you were versed in healing techniques," the crown prince commented.
"Picked it up while I was away," I explained. "Figured if I can't get to combat quickly enough, I can still be useful."
Suddenly Dimitri pushed me out of the way, and I realized with sudden alacrity that another wizard had appeared and was slinging a firebolt. Coiling as much energy into my body as possible, I sprung forward and batted the spell away with my Mirror Shield. It careened towards my right–
And smacked the Death Knight.
He didn't even flinch.
That dark mask made eye contact with me specifically. I could feel its hunger. It wasn't like Majora– that much was for sure, at least. But this… thing was dangerous, there was no doubt about it. And I had successfully disturbed the beehive.
"I told you that if you fled, I would not chase you…" it said, the metal mask reverberating its voice into something alien. "But it seems you wish to die…"
At once, it was upon me, its scythe swinging with bloodlust in its nonexistent crimson eyes. It was only a warning from Katáktisi that enabled me to dodge quickly enough. The strike slammed into the ground, sending sinuous cracks throughout the floor. The only way out was through.
I shot a Light Arrow directly into its eyes, successfully harming it but not blinding it like I wanted it to. The attack only seemed to enrage the Death Knight, whose swings came out even faster in response. I ducked under the first one, tried to get in close with a powerful chop but was nearly struck by the second slash, and was forced to block the third swipe with my Mirror Shield. The shield held, but I could hear the sickening crunch that accompanied the sound of my right arm breaking into pieces. That felt like a compound fracture and a half. No time to worry about that now, and if I tried to heal myself, I'd be dead meat. At least it wasn't my sword arm.
I had one choice. I couldn't take another hit like that– it would surely kill me if my ability to defend myself was hampered any further. I used Din's Fire to force the Death Knight away temporarily. It fortunately seemed to pierce the enemy's metal exoskeleton. I could feel the advent of another problem, though– I was running out of mana. I only had one, maybe two good spells left in me. And my adversary was galloping forth, its scythe already swinging in a brutal arc.
It was time to use my last resort. I used all but the last drops of magic left in my compressed body to cast Nayru's Love, allowing its defensive barrier to eat the hits for me. If the Death Knight was confused, it did an excellent job of hiding it, continuing its assault with wild abandon. Unlike last time, the scythe did nothing more than scrape me. I was able to get in close with my comically short Gilded Sword. I knew I wouldn't be able to pierce its armor, but hopefully I could rattle the Death Knight around enough to disorient it to a point where it wouldn't be able to retaliate effectively. The Great Fairy's Sword would have done better, but I couldn't operate it one-handed. Hopefully the rest of the house could do something… anything.
Just as I narrowly avoided another blow, I swung my blade in a brutal jumping slash with a defiant shout. If I wanted to get out of here alive, I would have to press my invincible advantage as far as I could. The Death Knight just barely managed to put his own weapon in front of mine, and I could see a Crest flash as it channeled all its strength into resisting my own attack. In my frenzied attack, I couldn't identify which one it was.
I backed off before it could respond, immediately switching to my Hookshot and latching onto one of the rafters where it couldn't hope to touch me. With no hesitation, I fired a quick arrow directly to its midsection before descending from my position swordfirst. The Death Knight managed to shove me away before driving me backwards with a flurry of blows. I absorbed an overhead strike, feeling it crunch against Nayru's Love before retaliating with a Deku Nut, disorientating the cavalier for just long enough to slip beneath another slash. I promptly threw myself at the Death Knight, punching it with all my might in the chest. Its armor blocked the blow, giving it the perfect opportunity to grab my leg before throwing me to the ground headfirst. Without my blessed diamond shield, I would be putty on the floor. I quickly got to my feet. Where was everyone?! I processed that it had probably only been thirty seconds or so. With other threats of death, they were probably a little busy. Or perhaps they thought I had it under control?
My breaths were haggard as I tightened my grip on my sword. I could hear the roaring of blood in my ears, pierced on occasion by the high whine of Nayru's Love. The Death Knight looked worse for wear, sure, but it looked better than I felt. Even with all of that whaling on this goddesses-forsaken cavalier, it still.
Just.
Wouldn't.
Die.
Let me at him, my upstairs neighbor ordered.
What the– no! I argued, sliding underneath the horse and hacking at its exposed underbelly. I wasn't able to do much, what with its legs being all over the place, but it was a fairly good idea in the moment. With everyone here? The Nabateans would find out for sure.
Katáktisi did not argue with that line of logic. I rolled out from underneath the creature and fired off a Fire Arrow. The Death Knight was forced backwards, giving me just enough time to use the last dregs of my mana to use Heal on myself. I rolled my right shoulder– my arm was still killing me, but I could use it and that was enough. I had to be fast– the longer this dragged out, the greater chance someone else would get hurt. I couldn't allow that. I drew the Great Fairy's Sword and charged, bringing it down the knight's head–
Nayru's Love wore out.
"Squirm for me!"
And my momentum stopped dead.
I had landed my strike, more or less. The Great Fairy's sword was confidently lodged in the Death Knight's head spikes. Issue was, the Death Knight's attack had also landed. The tip of its scythe was currently protruding from the small of my back. Well. This was a disappointment.
Seriously?
It was kind of… out of my… control… I forced myself to think, mind addled by the numbness in my midsection. This was it. It was almost impossible to breathe, as blood quickly pooled in my lungs. All I felt was numbness in my chest, although it was quickly giving way to sharp, unadulterated pain.
Well, Solon will be pleased, at the very least.
I wasn't in a proper mind to listen to my upstairs neighbor at present. I let out a shuddering sigh, and despite all my efforts I could not suck in another breath. Everything sounded muffled, like I was at the bottom of Lake Hylia. My mind fluttered to Ikana, to the realm of the dead that I was about to join. To die without a trace… that was the way of the Garo.
I was about to take a page out of their book.
With the last of my strength, as the weapon slithered out of my stomach, I shoved my hand into my pouch. The last thing I heard was a muted hiss, followed by that cacophonous sound of an explosive going off at point blank.
The time had come. At long last.
The Goddess' Rite of Rebirth was going on in the cathedral. Most of the Knights were on guard up there, as was Cyril. And here I was, weapon drawn alongside the rest of the Blue Lion house, in the deepest recesses of the Holy Tomb.
And there were, like fifty Western Church guys just kind of hanging out. Well, at least we were doing better than just guarding a coffin.
"It is as we suspected," Dimitri commented. "The enemy is within."
"Those Central Church dastards have spotted us…" a masked mage muttered from across the room, his words only rendered audible by my superior Hylian hearing. "Buy me some time while I open the seal on the casket!" So they were… graverobbing?
A horrible bout of nausea wracked my small frame. Immediately, the memory of my past life– and subsequent death– rolled me over like a raging wyvern. Somewhat panicked, I subtly checked my torso for an impact site. It was as though it had never happened. Which made sense. It hadn't happened.
The timeloop… just activated?
Did it now?
I know it did. I'm not crazy. I died. But why did it go back?
"I'm on it," a nearby Western Church soldier said. The Death Knight was still there, in the middle of the room.
"The enemy is after the casket of Saint Seiros," Dimitri realized. I still didn't have the heart to tell him that Seiros was upstairs performing the Rite of Rebirth. "Do they intend to steal her bones? But look closely at the ground… there are contraptions of some sort in place. We'll have to look closely at the enemies' weapons and advance while attacking from the best positions possible."
"Game plan is simple:" the professor announced. "Stick together as much as possible. If we engage the Death Knight, we do it together. Then we stop that mage before he gets away. Got it?" I was confounded. I hadn't done anything different so far than I had in the last loop. Why had Byleth's plan changed?
Unless she remembered, too.
"I don't think that's a good idea," I countered despite myself. I couldn't risk anyone being hurt the way that I was. I couldn't live with that. "That Death Knight looks… really strong. I'm not sure we can take him down."
Byleth looked at me without any emotion whatsoever. She almost seemed confused. "Link. We're doing it this way. We'll deal with it– I know we will."
"But–" I sighed. I would need to have faith. For once. "Alright."
And we moved.
The ten of us more or less formed a wall down the central corridor, making quick work of the two casters that were there. I still couldn't reach quite fast enough, but I got to quickly patch up Felix while Mercedes was otherwise occupied.
"Thanks," he growled, very obviously unthankful.
"No worries," I replied cheerily enough by channeling my inner Annette, smiting an approaching enemy swordsman with a well-timed blast of Din's Fire. A surge of momentum passed through me, as Katáktisi roared in approval.
"Death Knight! Prove your strength and scatter these fools!"
"I don't take commands…" the aforementioned Knight of Death snarled. "And I don't waste time with weaklings."
"That knight looks like he has experience," Dimitri observed. "It would be foolish to challenge him recklessly." No kidding.
I soon found myself side by side with Ashe– well, slightly in front of him, really. We were taking care of the right flank, isolating the Death Knight so that there wouldn't be any other riffraff to worry about while we dealt with him. In order to prevent enemies from getting too close to the archer, I had to stay in front and engage with melee. My short stature gave Ashe plenty of room to fire off shots and assist. There was a perk, at least.
A mage cast a fireball at me. I wasn't going to repeat the mistake from last time. I still reflected it with the Mirror Shield, but I made additional effort to point it directly back at the caster. From there, it was as simple as lunging forward and cutting him down with a flurry of a thousand papercuts. I realized pretty quickly that I had just leapt headfirst into two warriors, so I quickly retreated into Dedue's sphere of influence. The Duscurian's presence seemed to inflame them, probably because of what had happened in Duscur four years ago, so they were more than happy to attack him as opposed to me. What they weren't expecting was for the crown prince himself to have Dedue's back, gutting them before they could so much as scratch the larger man.
There was a momentary pause. Somehow, we had eradicated the entire force, excluding the wizard prying open the coffin and the Death Knight. We rallied in the center of the tomb. Vaguely, I heard something about reinforcements? For us or for them? There weren't exactly many of them left.
The Death Knight was still staring us down, unmoving since the start of the altercation. But without anyone else to distract us– save the man in the back who Katáktisi didn't mind allowing to escape– it was time to begin the fight on our terms.
We formed a wedge– a triangle of meat and weaponry bent on punching through the Death Knight's defense. Byleth was in front, flanked by Dedue and Felix. Sylvain, Annette, and Dimitri followed them, while Ingrid, Ashe, Mercedes, and myself made up the rear. We would need to smash through the initial onslaught with those of us who could take a hit, then flank around and cut him into little red ribbons. As long as nobody died, everything would be just fine.
"Like moths to a flame…" the Death Knight growled.
"Oh my, how frightening!" Mercedes exclaimed. "Won't you please go easy on us?"
"You…" the masked marauder said. "Was this meeting… preordained?" That was odd. But whatever hesitation had consumed the mounted knight, it was gone in an instant as he and his steed lunged. Byleth rose to meet him, deflecting and dodging and counterattacking in a dalliance of technique that I couldn't help but watch. This was what an expert was capable of. When the time came, I would surpass it. That fact was as clear to me as the rise of the morning sun.
The triangle formation flattened as we surrounded the Death Knight, severely hampering its ability to maneuver. I switched to my bow, permitting the other students to get in melee range. When the knight tried to turn to focus down any given attacker, two more strikes would land. It was only a matter of time. It could have killed any one of us with some level of ease, but with all ten of us supporting each other and mutually distracting it… it hardly had the opportunity to fight back. Why couldn't it have gone this smoothly last time?
"I didn't expect to encounter someone like you…" it snarled, focusing solely on Byleth. "How fortunate…"
In a flash of violet light, it was gone. It had access to teleportation magic?
"He got away," Dimitri lamented. "We have no choice but to focus on that mage for–"
The swift tip-tap of feet on stone alerted us. The reinforcements had arrived.
"I'll handle the wizard!" Byleth ordered, raising her bloodstained sword. "The rest of you, take care of the new arrivals!"
There was no talking back. The house descended upon them, adrenaline still running high from the death-defying encounter with the masked knight. To be honest, I was just happy I hadn't been stabbed this time around. That was always nice.
"It's no use! The seal is broken! You can't–" I heard from the other side of the room. "Huh? A sword?"
I backflipped out of the way of a horizontal swing and allowed Felix to take the attacker down. I turned and focused on Byleth. She was staring with incredulity at a glowing red sword forged from the same sort of umbral steel as Catherine's Thunderbrand, as was the mage beneath his crowlike hat, presumably.
The Sword of the Creator, Katáktisi exposited. The weapon wielded by Nemesis. Fascinating. What was it doing in the coffin of Seiros?
The two quickly got over their surprise, and after a small tussle, Byleth had killed him. No sooner than the man was felled, Thunder Catherine came charging down alongside a duo of Knights of Seiros.
"Is the intruder here?!" she demanded. Then her face broke out into a more relaxed smile. "Oh… looks like you have things under control. You– round up any stragglers."
"Will do," the Knight to her left replied. I put my sword back in its sheath, contemplative, as the last few insurgents were taken away. The fact of the matter was that if Byleth remembered the resets… well. That would be a problem.
"As all of you have committed a breach of faith, the archbishop will now pass judgement," Seteth ordered.
"Inciting a Kingdom noble to rebel," Shamir listed. "Unlawful entry. The attempted assassination of the Archbishop. An attack on the Holy Mausoleum. It is unnecessary to go on, followers of the Western Church."
"What?!" one of the priests on trial demanded. "We have nothing to do with the Western Church!"
"You have already been identified," Seteth stated. "Please spare us your second-rate theater." That was cold. I had no choice but to begrudgingly respect it.
"Dishonoring a holy ceremony is worthy of death for a member of the church," Rhea said flatly. "You are well past the hope of redemption. If you have any grace remaining, you will willingly offer your life as atonement for this crime."
Do you see it? Their evil? Katáktisi asked.
I figured ruthlessness would be right up your alley, I replied.
It is different when they do it. A stranglehold on humanity is no noble cause. That seemed hypocritical, but I held my tongue.
"No! This isn't what we were told would happen! We were deceived!"
"It's no use arguing," Shamir snarled, sweeping her hand dismissively. "Whatever your excuse, the punishment stands."
"May your souls find peace as they return to the goddess…"
"Wait! Please! The goddess would never forgive you for our execution!"
"Monster! We know you've already slaughtered many of our fellow brethren like this!"
"This concludes the investigation," Rhea said, her voice even. "Please remove these poor, lost souls from my sight."
The Western Church people were marched off by armored Knights of Seiros, and the Blue Lion House remained silent, watching the horrid discourse play out.
"There you have it," Dimitri said. We had relocated to the Blue Lions lecture hall for convenience's sake. "It seems that the assassination attempt and the attack on the Holy Mausoleum were all the work of the Western Church. As for the masked knight who led the attack… I'm afraid his whereabouts are yet unknown."
"It makes no sense that the Western Church would try such a thing," said Dedue.
"It just goes to show that the Church of Seiros is not completely united. The Church is led by those here at Garreg Mach, and the Western Church doesn't have a strong voice on its governing council." So all this was spawned by people seeking power, and Nabateans who didn't want to share it. Wonderful. "I imagine the Western Church has harbored some resentment towards the Central Church for some time now."
"The Western Church…" Byleth trailed, brows furrowed. She didn't know what the Western Church was? Even I knew that, and I had only been on this continent for a year and a third.
"Ah, that's right. Jeralt did say that you grew up outside the influence of the Church."
Such a thing is possible? Katáktisi asked. I like this Jeralt character.
"The Church of Seiros is split into a few branches across Fódlan," Dimitri explained. "The largest being the Central Church, which is headquartered right here at Garreg Mach. The Western Church lies far to the west of Castle Gaspard, where Lord Lonato held his rebellion. It's situated on the far side of the Kingdom's most impressive fortress, Arianrhod. I imagine the Western Church's intention was to eliminate Lady Rhea, and the Central Church's authority along with her. Naturally, the knights will be riding out to question the Western Church's top officials. Or rather… to punish them."
"When they do, Your Highness, we will likely be asked to help carry out said punishment," Dedue observed.
"Indeed. Now, I don't mean to be rude, Professor, but I must say your situation is rather unusual." He coughed. "For someone to grow up in Fódlan and yet never have any contact with the Church of Seiros is… it's hard to believe," he clarified.
"I wonder why the archbishop would hire someone like that as a professor…"
"So…" Ashe interjected. "Those people from the Western Church were… um, Lady Rhea had them killed, didn't she?"
"Well, of course she did," Mercedes answered, which I found surprising. "Going against the teachings of Seiros like that. Quite unforgivable!"
"Those who stray must be punished, I supposed…" Ingrid contemplated. "That being said… Professor, I–"
Whatever the knight-to-be was going to say was cut off by Seteth. "There you are, Professor. It seems Lady Rhea would like to have a word with you. Come with me."
I would have to speak with her about the timeloop on a later date.
I hope I did the Death Knight fight justice. I mean, all things considered Link fended for himself very well in spite of his godawful luck, or at least, he did until he ate a crit to the face at the worst possible time. Anyways, happy page 100!
Review please!
CuddlyManaki (AO3): Thank you very much!
DarthFlores (FF): I actually decided for the mystery mask to be in Zanado for Byleth's paralogue– I noticed that they were the only character in the cast to not have a partner for their paralogue mission so I decided to slap Link on there to round it out. Suffice to say, though, I have s for that that I think you're all going to enjoy. Regarding Cyril, that's an understandable perspective to have. As far as this fic is concerned, I'm going to be taking some liberties with his character by emphasizing the Cyril seen in his supports with Hilda, Lysithea, and Shamir as opposed to just being 'Rhea's errand boy'. I'm not planning for their relationship to be romantic, of course– they're bros who have each other's back and bicker a bit, but nothing more than that. Thank you for your continued support!
Louie Yang (FF): Yeah, I imagine pre-chapter 18 Dimitri would be quite angry if he learned about the Slitherers and Link's connection to them. But I also think post-chapter 18 Dimitri would be more willing to hear him out, especially considering the post-timeskip plans I have going forward.
Laxard (FF): From the research I've done, Wyvern Lord is generally considered to be one of the best non-exclusive classes (i.e. not counting War Master, Gremory, Falcon Knight and Grappler). It has very strong Strength and Defense, plus it's one of the only Master classes to get bonus Speed if my research is correct. It also has no weapon restrictions, so if you wanted to use a bow with it, there's nothing stopping you. The general consensus from the community is that it's one of the strongest master classes, so I leaned into that.
The reason Link doesn't go back and save Monica is because a) he's under the impression that she ran away, b) he's not in control of the timeloop because he gave the Ocarina back to Zelda when he was last in Hyrule, c) he's got work to do, d) [CONTENT EXPUNGED], and e) Byleth can't loop back to before Sothis wakes up (during the night in the Forest where she saves Edelgard), which was after Monica went missing.
As I've said before, Closed Circuit is going to be loosely based on Azure Moon (emphasis on loosely), with several knots and twists thrown in there for good measure. My apologies for the broken Greek– I'm relying entirely on Google Translate because I don't speak the language. I just felt that it would be kind of weird for the Agarthans to all use fluid English when Nemesis sure as heck doesn't, and Greek fit well given their naming scheme. I'm trying to write Link as someone slowly working through their traumas and baggage, and it's like walking a tightrope made of licorice surrounded by starving bears. Insofar as it's wicked difficult. Maybe I've gone a little too bleak, but I, like Link, am working on it. Thanks for your reviews!
HiIExist (FF): I really like that idea in theory, but remember how I mentioned that Three Hopes came out after I started writing this? That might, uh, have created consequences that prevent that idea. Stay tuned. Love the idea, though! The reason he can't charge into Zanado is because, as far as I'm aware, the Red Canyon is considered holy ground by the Church and nobody's allowed to just wander in without express permission. I'm intending to horribly mutate the Byleth paralogue to suit those ends. Speaking of Byleth, thanks for pointing out that inconsistency! I've been trying to use Three Hopes Byleth as a baseline– taking things literally, delivering lines very flatly, etc. I will endeavor to further communicate this change in future chapters. Thank you so much for your continued support!
Lord_Ecramox (AO3): Thank you very much!
