I have become completely convinced that Link was the ghost mentioned in Ashe and Mercedes' Three Hopes support. He used the Stone Mask to disappear as soon as Mercie entered the room. I will take this headcanon and raise it as my own child.
Chapter XIII
Seteth and Byleth were holed up in his office. He was probably expressing his eternal gratitude to the Blue Lions professor for her actions just a few minutes ago. While that was all well and good for him, it left me stuck waiting outside. I guess I still had Dimitri for company, who had decided to stick around for a bit just to hang out with me. That was nice of him.
"So, what's up between you and the professor?" I asked.
"I am not sure what you mean, Link."
"'Hey, Professor,'" I mimicked. "'Can you make that expression one more time?' Come on, Dima, have some dignity."
"Extradimensional though you may be, you are only twelve years old. I daresay your experience with the nuances of interpersonal relationships isn't exactly fully formed."
I pretended to be affronted. "This coming from the guy who gave a dagger to his girlfriend when he was two years older than I am now. And just because I'm younger than you doesn't mean I don't know a thing or two about how romantic relationships work. Did I ever tell you the story about that time I got engaged to a fish?" The best part about bringing up random events from my past was that I could say them completely straight and people would just think I was a comedic genius. It was foolproof! Normally I would be much more wary about sharing any details from Hyrule and Termina, no matter how small. But since Dimitri already knew that I wasn't from Fodra and wouldn't tell anyone, I didn't see the harm.
"Please tell me you're joking."
I gave Dimitri my best unimpressed look.
"Saints, you're being serious. How?"
"Suffice to say my home had both fish people and rock people. And before you ask– I did not get engaged to a rock. Thankfully."
"That… does not answer my question."
"It's an absurdly long story involving the fattest man you've ever met, a diving carnival game, and being eaten by a giant whale. Among other things," I said, my tone clipped. "Look, Dima, we're in a public place. I'd rather not talk about my past right now."
"I could ask the same of you when it comes to myself and Professor Byleth," Dimitri replied, arms crossed.
"..."
"..."
…
"Yeah, that's fair," I conceded. We stood in amiable silence for a while. "Everything okay?"
Dimitri hesitated. "Of course. Yourself?"
I pursed my lips. "Same, really."
The soft pitter-patter of footsteps made themselves known. I glanced down the hallway to see– Flayn? I thought she was still in recovery! But it was certainly her. There were no other green-haired children in the monastery, and I knew it. Katáktisi would have surely alerted me if we spotted any additional Nabateans. She silently stepped forward and put her hand on the doorhandle. Dimitri opened his mouth to speak, but I held up my hand for him to stay his tongue. She was too focused on going inside to acknowledge us. Very un-Flayn-like, I had to say.
"...blood have appeared, our only option is to leave the monastery and go into hiding," I caught Seteth saying when the door opened. They were leaving? I had heard nothing about this! But–
"Brother, wait," Flayn interjected.
"Flayn?! What are you doing here? You should–" The door closed, cutting off the conversation.
"You really think they were going to leave the monastery?" I asked, trying to make conversation. "Seteth sounded serious, but…"
"Were you hoping for a different outcome?"
"I mean, kind of. I like Seteth. He's… a good guy." Katáktisi retched. What a baby.
"I agree, but after everything that's happened this month, can you blame him?"
"No," I admitted. After all, my upstairs neighbor could do enough blaming for the both of us. At that moment, the door creaked open again, and out Byleth stepped.
"Hello, Professor," Dimitri greeted. "I was waiting with Link outside. Wouldn't want him to stand here all alone."
"How do you know Link?" the professor inquired.
"Did I never tell you this story?" Dimitri appeared surprised, but Felix's words drifted unbidden back to me. 'He dresses up as a man with a friendly smile, but that is not his true face.' Was this not his true emotion? I thought it was, but I couldn't quite tell. "In the winter of 1178– nearly a year and a half ago now– I found him wandering alone in a blizzard. I think he was even wearing the same clothes as he is now."
"Guilty."
"A blizzard? Wearing that?" Byleth looked at me flatly.
"The part of the Sacred Gwenhwyvar I lived in was normally temperate year-round," I lied. "L-local weather phenomenon. If you'll notice, this is one of Dimitri's running themes– find someone to protect, and then protect them." I shrugged. "Like with Dedue."
"I thought that you were his bastard half-cousin," she claimed, completely devoid of any emotion.
Dimitri and I nearly choked on the surprise. When the shock was over, I couldn't help but find it absolutely hilarious. "I wish!" I laughed once I recovered. "Just because of the looks on people's faces when I told them, ha ha ha… anyways…" I set my face into a perfectly neutral expression, any sense of mirth immediately drowned out of my features. "I have to talk to Seteth. You'lll have to excuse me."
With silent footsteps, I entered the study. A pang of jealousy ripped through my entire being when I saw them embraced, not having noticed that I had entered. My upstairs neighbor jolted me out of whatever stupor I had found myself in, and I cleared my throat. The two Nabateans were quick to disengage, facing me.
"I made a promise at the end of last month," I said, mostly to catch Flayn up to the situation. "To properly… explain myself, about, um, what happened at the Goddess Tower."
"That is not necessary," Flayn assured, eliciting a double take from both Seteth and me. "You asked me and my brother to overlook that incident, did you not?"
"I did, but…" I shifted my weight from foot to foot. "Your brother took it as reason to suspect that I may have been the one to kidnap you."
Immediately, Cethleann was upon her father. "Brother, seriously? Link could not have possibly been the mastermind behind my capture!"
"Yes, Flayn, hindsight is often clearer than crystal," Seteth admitted. "At the time, however, my vision was clouded with worry. Still, if you do not wish to hear this explanation, then by all means, Link– you are not required to tell it."
Must you continue this farce? Katáktisi sighed.
Shut up. This is something I need to do, I countered.
Listen, and listen well. I still do not approve of the relationship that currently exists between yourself and Cichol. In the end, you are and will be foes. Know that he will not hesitate to cut you down once he learns of our bond.
Well– I paused. Did I value Seteth's camaraderie more, or Katáktisi's? I had known Katáktisi for longer, but… Seteth was certainly friendlier. Even if he was pretty intimidating sometimes.
"No," I said, resolute. "This is something I want to do." I racked my brain for an adequate lie, every neuron firing in frenzied, meticulous harmony. "Back home, there was this… girl. Her name was– is Saria. She was the only person I could really call my friend. She was funny, and cheerful, and kind, so kind to everyone… almost to a fault, really.
"She wrote this song. She only taught it to her closest of friends… namely, me. I don't know the specifics– she always was smarter than me– but somehow, it always managed to… make things better. I think there's some ancient power in those notes, although it might just be nostalgia for sunnier days." I bounced on the balls of my feet with nervous energy. "I only ever played her song at the top of the Goddess Tower, because nobody ever comes up there and it's a bit embarrassing, to be honest. Because… see, it's off limits to students, but they let us inside on cleaning duty. It was just a nice place to be alone to reminisce about someone very close to me, who I know I'll never see again."
"Oh my! Were you playing her song when I came to the peak of the Tower?"
"I would describe it more as 'having a mental breakdown in her general direction'," I elaborated, a warmish smile on my face in an attempt to make light of the situation. "But yes. And honestly? If you had been anyone else, I probably would have reacted… better. Because Saria… has green hair. It was the same color as yours, Flayn."
Silence.
You could not possibly have drawn more attention to yourself.
Oh, like you could have done better.
Yes, I could. I would have torn out their throats, crushed their hearts, and consumed their blood for its power. Very simple.
Oh my goddesses, you're hopeless. Hopeless, I tell you.
"When you appeared behind me, I… thought you were her for just a moment," I said, trying to direct the conversation elsewhere. "Long enough that, when I came back to my senses, I just felt anger and embarrassment. That's… why I reacted in the way I did. I lashed out because… someone hurt me and I didn't know where else to turn, so I bore my fangs at the first person who came across me. That happened to be you." That sounded good enough. I had sprinkled in enough truth to deflect attention away from the biggest lie. That, in reality, it wasn't embarrassment or vulnerability that had driven me. Not by a long shot.
It was the fear that in that moment of weakness, Katáktisi would seize control, and tear her Crest stone out of her chest. I knew now that it was a silly thing to fear– the Crestwraith would not jeopardize our cover so willingly, not here in the belly of the beast where there was no hope of escape. But at the same time, I could not risk the alternative.
"So… I'm sorry. From the bottom of my heart."
Flayn's expression screwed up in sympathy. "Link… I wish for you to understand that there is no need to put up a brave face for anyone's sake. It is not a shameful thing to miss younger days."
"That's–"
"Flayn is correct," Seteth said. "I still have fond memories of our mother…" For a second, I thought he said 'her mother'. I had probably just misheard. "... fishing off the Rhodos Coast without a care in the world. Despite the time since those days, her absence brings me a pain no less sharp than the day I lost her. Consider your apology accepted, and allow me to apologize in turn for leaping to the conclusion that you were behind her disappearance." He smiled, in that way that he used to before all of this started. I felt… like I was bubbling. Had I fallen ill? "Should you ever wish to speak of what you have lost, my door is always open. I am sure Flayn would also be open to this as well, should you feel more comfortable speaking with someone closer to your own age."
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you, both of you. I'm glad we were able to reach a consensus." I nodded as calmly as I could muster, and gently stepped out the door, allowing father and daughter to find comfort in each other's arms once more. A comfort I had to remind myself I did not deserve.
The Battle of the Eagle and Lion was to take place at the end of next month. The monastery was awash with anticipation. Well, most of it, anyway. I myself wasn't super particularly interested in it. It was just another opportunity for the house members to beat the everloving snot out of each other. Moreover, us monastery staff had to set up a goddesses-damned ballista in the middle of Gronder Field. It wasn't even the Wyvern Moon yet! Moreover, why couldn't they have just left the ballista there from last year's Battle of the Eagle and Lion?
Laughably idiotic logistics aside, they could have at the very least waited for the humidity to die down. We were having an unusually hot fall, sure, but it was the Horsebow Moon at this point while still feeling like the Blue Sea Moon. Sure, it was only a couple hundred kilometers out, in Bergliez territory in the Empire, but it was a couple hundred kilometers carrying a disassembled siege weapon. Also, because of the Airmid River separating the nations, we had to cut through the Alliance territory of Gloucester and pass into the Empire at Myrddin. At least as far as we were aware, this ballista was staying at Gronder, so we didn't have to worry about moving it back.
The other three kids were taking it a bit easier than I was. I was being assisted by Cyril, Claire, and Annika, the latter of whom were war orphans from Edmund in the Alliance and Ochs in the Empire, respectively. The only other people that were close to my age in all the monastery were the gaggle of youths who had been initially raised by that group of bandits that the Blue Lion house had put down at the start of the year. Rhea had taken them in, saying that they were innocent of their caretaker's crimes. I didn't really know them as well as I knew these three, though.
It was a two-week trip plus change, and Rhea had been kind enough to secure night lodging for us at a series of inns along the way; tonight's was on the border between the Alliance and the Empire. However, she didn't think to give us each mounts to make the trip more palatable. We had two horses, sure, but they were mainly for pulling the cart carrying the heaviest of the ballista parts. We didn't want to overtax them.
I wiped the sweat off of my brow. The damn mosquitoes were buzzing in my ears. It was like the Woodfall Temple all over again. What was going to be next, the death whistles? Nothing to do about it but keep moving forward. As usual.
Din's Eye– or, since we weren't in Hyrule by any sense of the word, I suppose it was the goddess' eye– slid towards the horizon as our trek neared its temporary end. The inn we were staying at was simple enough– really, it was little more than an assortment of bedrooms on top of a bar. I just hoped that it would be quiet.
We locked up the ballista parts and checked in at the inn. We made small talk as we ate a pile of slop, then retreated into our rooms for the night. It was only one room with two large beds and a couch. I waited until the latest hours, when my companions had fallen asleep. I breathed in, I breathed out, and I slunk away.
There was someone that Katáktisi wanted to meet.
I grabbed a key off of a shelf by the door and eased it shut. The floorboards creaked beneath my feet as I tiptoed down the stairs. It was fairly loud on the first floor of the inn– people talking, drinking, generally having a good time. The affairs of the western part of the Empire may have been tumultuous right now, but all was well on this side of the Oghma Mountains.
I spotted him fairly quickly. He was wearing a black and gold cloak, his face obscured by the shadows of his hood. The disguise that 'Tomas' used must have been difficult to acquire, if it was not being used. He was seated at the bar, a shot glass sitting mostly full on the bar. Clearly, he had just bought it to not appear more strange than he already did.
I hopped onto the stool next to him. "You must be the guy, right?"
He looked at me strangely. "You must have me mistaken for someone else."
"No, I don't think I do," we replied coolly, Katáktisi's words meshing with my own. "Garreg Mach's agent said to meet you here. That ring any bells?"
There was a pause for a moment. "Right you are. Please– let us speak somewhere a little more… private."
I nodded before walking outside the inn. It was a nice night if I ignored the insects. I was joined by the Agarthan a couple of minutes later– if we both went out at the same time, it would be suspicious.
"You may call me Odesse," the disguised man introduced. "You claim to be Κατάκτηση? Show me."
I hesitated. You must, the Crestwraith urged. "Give me a moment," I pleaded, rummaging through my pouch and reaching through the hidden bottom to where the transformation masks were hidden, the Fierce Deity's Mask included. I revealed it, its polished surface glinting off the light of the moon.
Grant me control.
Why?
It must not seem that you have your own agency. For your own safety, this must be done. Don the mask, my champion.
My fingers shook, but I submitted.
The transformation was agonizing, as it always was. Every cell of my body shifted and expanded, twisting into something that was me and was not me at the same time. I became us, and we became one once again. I hadn't used any of the transformation masks in over a year, so I was a little unfamiliar with that feeling.
The Fierce Deity– harmony between Crestwraith and champion itself– was reborn.
We stretched our limbs, like a fresh butterfly alighting in the warmth of the sun. I took a moment to realize that we were not in the same form of the Fierce Deity that I had hence known. Had it always been like this in Fodra? I knew that it was different from the time I wore it on the moon. But had it been this way before? I wasn't sure.
I didn't have the time to drink in my new body. Odesse appeared to be something between pleased and perturbed, between awestruck and disgusted. Overcoming whatever stint of emotion he had felt, he proffered a hand. We confidently took it, and at once an overbearing sense of vertigo overcame my entire being. Katáktisi was unaffected by the teleportation magic, of course. Good for it and all, but I was doing everything in my power not to retch. That would be what we called a bad idea.
"Welcome home, Σιγίλφασμα," Odesse announced. This place… it was unlike anything in Fodra, Hyrule, or Termina. We were clearly underground somewhere, but the world was ablaze in harsh, artificial light. Everything appeared to be made from stone and metal. Giant mechanical creatures roamed the area, massive weapons at the ready to defend the stronghold. It was… futuristic was the best word. Was this what humanity could be capable of were it not for the Church? "The Agastya is pleased with your contributions to Solon's research."
"The Agastya is in Shambhala?" Katáktisi inquired.
"No," Odesse said. "He is on business in the humans' Empire. He shall make himself known to you soon, when the time comes. Solon is preparing the experiment, so he will not–"
"And why," we snarled, "does that matter to us?"
"Solon and Caiaphas were the ones to create Ηγεμονία. The one that is to be bound to the mortal who has been gifted the Crest of Flames."
The name Caiaphas certainly got our attention. But the name 'Ηγεμονία' caught both of us off-guard– it meant 'Hegemony' in the ancient tongue. As did the mention of the Crest of Flames, the Crest that Nemesis had borne eons ago. Was Professor Byleth bearing a Crestwraith? That would certainly explain her… Byleth-ness.
"And now you have come here," Odesse finished. Two of those great machines– Titanuses, as Katáktisi so helpfully informed– materialized out of the gloom behind him. "Why have you truly returned, Κατάκτηση? You would insinuate that you have come back to Agartha under peaceful pretenses. And yet your host has been sighted forging a deal with–"
"Is it not you, Odesse, who would insinuate that I, Κατάκτηση, would betray Agartha?!"
The Agarthan was silent. "Then why is Μιζέρια dead? And why do you keep your current host alive and undigested?" Curiously, Odesse didn't seem to be saying that last sentence like it was a truly abhorrent thing. How very odd.
If you sell me out to save your own metaphorical skin, so help me–
You need not worry about that.
"Μιζέρια was slain by this mortal at the apex of a world," we spat. "I claimed it as my host to feed off of it, but its spirit supersedes even that of the spawn of the Fell Star. I have been feasting on it for a year and have hardly made a dent. But at the same time, were I to fully consume it, I could tear down that heteromorphic vessel of Sothis herself. This mortal is mine. Should it meet a premature end…" We let the Agarthan fill in the blank himself. Which was good, because it prevented us from having to elaborate.
Have you really been feeding on my spirit? I felt that I had to ask for my own peace of mind.
Only enough to sustain myself. Not enough to weaken you. Make no mistake– I said only what I must say to protect us. Protect you.
I suppose it's better than having to eat other people, I sighed. I had no reason to believe it was lying about this– I hadn't felt any less strong of mind, body, or will in the last year and a half or so.
"Of course, Κατάκτηση," Odesse capitulated. "You must forgive our suspicion. Φρίκη and Aγωνία absconded with Caiaphas before his blasphemy could be detected."
Φρίκη and Aγωνία… Horror and Agony. The other two Crestwraiths! "Φρίκη was destroyed in the War of Heroes! How is it alive?" I demanded, momentarily breaking through the disguise before the Crestwraith shoved me back down again.
Thankfully, Odesse did not appear to notice the slip. "Solon and Caiaphas discovered how to make its corpse feed. They also solved Epimenides' great puzzle– Ηγεμονία was the result. An unthinking Crestwraith, completely subservient to the will of its user. The Agastya has it, and intends to gift it to she who will burn the gods." That was definitely referring to Byleth. It had to be, because she was the only person who had the Crest of Flames. Was her presence at the Officer's Academy also organized by the Agarthans? Did Jeralt know about this? Did he know about me? But he had the Crest of Seiros, and the Major one to boot…
"Myson, Chilon, and the Twins will be informed of your cooperation," Odesse assured. "And I will personally see to it that your host is not to be interfered with unless necessary." Wow. That was really nice. I decided I liked Odesse. "I will also send Anaximandros to apprehend Caiaphas–"
"You will do no such thing," Katáktisi demanded. "Caiaphas. Is. Mine."
The Agarthan hesitated, but eventually relented. "As you will it."
"With that mindless drivel completed," my upstairs neighbor continued, "Solon wished me to–"
Wait. What were we doing?
We spun on our heel, exiting some strange and foreboding corner of Shambhala. Had we always been here? This place was so confusing. I guess the Agarthans just wanted to inform us of what had happened with the other two Crestwraiths. That was probably good information to have. I would have to ask Katáktisi about Φρίκη and Aγωνία later; if Caiaphas was speaking true, one of them was the mask I was most likely being sent to Zanado to retrieve. Regardless, we found the man who had brough me here, and we left Shambhala behind, warping a couple hundred meters away from the inn. Odesse nodded once before disappearing into the night. I could sense the coming morning. I didn't want to go in the main door, but I had been smart enough to take note of which window corresponded to our room. I doffed Katáktisi, reverting to the form that I hated. I withdrew my Hookshot and aimed carefully, pulling myself straight onto the windowsill. I pushed the window open, put my Hookshot back in my pouch where it belonged, and all but collapsed in pure exhaustion.
"You were out late."
A surge of adrenaline ran through my body at Cyril's voice. "I… couldn't sleep. Wasn't tired."
"We were walking all day yesterday. How're ya not at all exhausted?"
I shrugged. "I'm used to running thirty-six hour shifts. It used to be seventy-two, but I managed to narrow that down over the last couple years."
"You're weird, Link." Cyril shook his head in mild exasperation.
"What else is new?"
Well, this was it. Grinder Field… no, Gronder. It was Gronder Field. The breadbasket of the Adrestian Empire. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the Battle of the Eagle and Lion was a month away from beginning. Roughly.
We were definitely in the right place, judging by the giant wooden hill. Jeralt had said that the ballista was to be constructed at the apex of that mound. The horses pulled the cart up to the base. Perfect. We could take it from here.
"So, um, how do we put this together?" asked Annika timidly.
"Tomas let me borrow an instruction booklet," Claire mentioned. She was always on top of stuff like that.
"Just tell me what to do and I'll do it," Cyril assured.
"Can I see it?" I asked. The blueprints were placed in my hands. "Hmm… It looks like the first thing we need to do is set up the base. If each of us could carry one of the four legs up the hill, that would be great." We did so. Claire immediately set to work setting the supports against the main body of the soon-to-be ballista. Annika held it steady from the top. Cyril was doubling back to the cart to get more parts. I was still poring over the documents, primarily trying to figure out what in Fodra the difference between a torsion spring and a tension spring was.
"We need 3 more L-brackets."
"There aren't any L-brackets left."
"There should be, the blueprints call for them!"
There was the sound of the rustling of paper. "No, that's clearly a T-bracket."
"By the Goddess, if you've been confusing L-brackets and T-brackets this entire time–"
"Y'know, I still can't believe Professor Jeritza would ever be the Death Knight," Annika said.
"It was definitely him," I countered. "I saw his hair beneath the mask."
"I know that, I know that. It's just… he taught me how to use a sword. And–"
"We know, Ann," Claire interjected. "You haven't stopped talking about it since Flayn was found."
"It is kinda weird though," Cyril commented. "Jeritza was… I always got the sense that he wanted to protect us. Guess you'll never know who's gonna stab ya in the back."
"True that," I agreed. "Say– Professor Manuela confronted ol' Jeritza with his mask… I wonder if she still has it."
"By the Saints, Link, what is with your fixation with masks?"
"I just think they're cool, okay?"
"Back to the task at hand," Cyril commented, leaning on the completed ballista base. "How do we put the bow part of the ballista on the base?"
"Same way as the chassis?"
"Nah, because there's no holes to fix it in place like the other ones."
"Cyril has a point… were we supposed to put the spring in first?"
"The instructions didn't say anything about that…"
"The instructions don't say anything about anything!"
"Got it!" Claire announced. "Take the bolt chamber off the stand. We have to put the bow part in the chamber before we put it on the base. Then we set up the torsion springs."
"That's all well and good, but… um… how do we do that? Take it off, I mean."
Silence.
"Are you saying there's no way to take the chamber off the base?"
"Not that I can see."
"Ugh, this is a nightmare…"
The sun was already setting. We loaded a bolt. Cyril twirled the crank…
And it fired beautifully.
"Perfect!"
I never thought I would be happy to be back at Garreg Mach, in the maw of the enemy. But here I was, overjoyed to be… well, it wasn't home, but it would have to do. After seeing the alien grandeur of Shambhala, I could no longer be impressed by the monastery's comparatively simple design.
I lazily glanced towards my left, and noticed a small congregation by the pond, overseen by none other than Flayn herself. She looked happy. It was good to see her at least somewhat recovered from the ordeal of last month. I said my goodbyes to the main group and jogged over. "Hey Flayn. What's all the hubbub over here?"
"Oh! Hello, Link!" Flayn greeted. Catherine nodded at me from a couple of meters away. Seteth must have had her keeping an eye on his daughter. I nodded back. "I must admit, I am quite excited! My brother has set up a fishing tournament with Ms Shamir! Although I cannot remember what type of fish I was wishing to dine on… nor how Mother used to prepare it…" She trailed off.
I remembered the fishing holes in Hyrule and Termina. "Maybe I should enter. I used to fish back in my day, and I could use a load off."
"Oh, you should! I would appreciate that very much. Just talk to Ms Shamir when you decide to enter. Speaking of which, I have not seen you for at least a couple of days. Where have you been?"
"Me and some of the other kids were asked to set up some stuff for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion over at Gronder Field," I explained.
"I see! I am very much looking forward to taking part in that this year! I will give it my all!"
"Wait, you're taking part? I thought that was for Officer's Academy students only." At least, I was pretty sure. I knew that Kingdom, Alliance, and Empire soldiers would volunteer at the big event to simulate a real battle, but I had no idea it was open to the public.
"Have you not heard? My brother allowed me to enroll in Professor Byleth's class!" Why on Hylia's green earth had Seteth even entertained that notion? He had always been suspicious of her lack of recorded history, as he had been with mine. I guess her house saving his daughter, who was very important to him, was enough to overlook all of that.
"Neat."
I disengaged from the conversation and immediately started another one. "Hi, Shamir. I heard you were in charge of the fishing tourney?"
"You heard right," she affirmed in that flat way of hers. "Just catch whatever fish Flayn requests. Show whatever you catch to Flayn."
"Will do," I confirmed. I grabbed a rod and took a seat at the edge of the pond. There was someone else sitting there already, line in the water. Ignatz, if my memory served me correct.
"Oh, hey there. Link, right?"
How did he know my name? "That's me," I replied.
"You must be taking part in the fishing tournament," the archer presumed. "Why not put your skills to the test? We'll compare whichever fishes we catch next. Biggest will be the victor."
The thrill of the challenge rushed through my veins. "You're on, Ignatz."
I put some random bait on my hook and cast the line. It hit the water with a satisfying plunk. Now all there was to do was wait for a fish to decide to bite…
Any moment now…
I heard some frenzied splashing as Ignatz pulled an Airmid Goby out of the water, impaled through the mouth. "That's pretty good!"
We waited a while. And a while longer. And after that was done, we waited some more.
The rod twitched in my hands. At long last, a bite! The beast started pulling hard, and it was all I could do to keep my footing. I held the reel taut, pulling with all my might while slowly gyrating my angle of attack to line up with the fish's direction. That was how I had always done it in Hyrule and Termina. The trick was to change the direction of force to make the fish point towards you.
Still, this sea creature was stubborn, and was obviously utterly determined to get as far away from the dock as possible. With a final, monumental effort, I yanked the flapping fish free from the confines of the pond. Just a Caledonian Crayfish. And pretty small, too. Although it was almost as long as my entire forearm… Well, now neither of us were having fun.
"Well, guess I win on size," Ignatz mused. "Still, that's a nice fish."
"I win on proportion," I argued. "Wanna call it a draw?"
"You do have a point… alright."
"Hey guys!" a third voice cut in. I whirled to see Caspar, a wide grin on his face. "You guys in the fishing tournament? Check out this beauty! Haha!" The Black Eagles student whipped out the most pathetic Carassius I had ever laid eyes on, and obviously he noticed that the sizes of our fishes were utterly incomparable. "Aww… I guess I'll just have to catch a bigger one! And for that, I'll need a new strategy! Hahaha!"
Caspar von Bergliez? Using strategy? That could not possibly end well for any of us.
With that, the pint-sized Bergliez backed up a half-step before throwing himself into the pond headfirst. "Come here, fishies! I! Am! Caspar!" There was a monumental splash, blasting Ignatz and myself with the tiny tsunami, and then there was nothing. No sign of Caspar… just his Carassius alone on the ground. I glanced at Ignatz. Ignatz returned my gaze.
"First one to fish Caspar out of the lake breaks the tie?"
"Alright, I accept."
To seemingly everyone's surprise except my own, Professor Byleth walked up, caught the most enormous specimen of Teutates Herring known to man, and blew the rest of us right out of the water. The worst part of it all was that the Teutates Herring turned out to be the exact type of fish that Flayn had been looking for to begin with, which was honestly just adding insult to injury at that point.
Oh well, it had at least been fun. I had caught a nice Airmid Pike, and while it had been on the small side, you didn't really see too many of those this far inland. All in all, I was content with how things had turned out.
"Hello, Professor Hanneman," I greeted, stepping into the Crestologer's office.
"Oh. Just the youth I was hoping to see," the older gentleman greeted. "You will be happy to know that I just finished analyzing that blood you gave me."
He hadn't done that yet? I'd given him my blood nearly a year ago. He was probably just busy with other things. "And?"
"Well, there were some minor peculiarities," Hanneman droned. "An increased amount of red blood cells relative to plasma, for instance. I won't bore you with the details– suffice to say, there is no evidence that you bear a Crest, as you yourself said. Although that does raise the question of why Catherine had believed that you possessed one…"
"It's possible she was just wrong," I asserted. "Perhaps she was just picking up on my unique magic footprint?"
"That could be a possibility," the professor mused. "But to rule it out for certain, I would have to ascertain the exact machinations of Catherine's ability to sense Crests. I will have to reach out to her on that front. Is there any other reason you came here?"
Um… "I heard you and Professor Manuela are going to be sitting out this year's Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Is that true?" I asked, grasping for straws.
"It is indeed. It simply wouldn't feel right if only one professor misses it."
"Is Professor Byleth going to skip it too?"
"I haven't actually broached the topic with her as of yet," Hanneman admitted. "I intend to do so once Professor Manuela has recovered enough to be there at that hour."
I minded being on Manuela Duty slightly less after everything that had happened in the last month. It wasn't pity– it was more the fact that the healers had the ex-diva, whatever that meant, on a strict no-alcohol diet while she recovered. That meant that, in theory, she was sober. Then again, it was as Hanneman said during one of his lectures: no theory survived first contact with the enemy. Without exception.
Her bandages had to be replaced somewhat frequently. The wound wasn't bleeding– magic had been used to seal the stab, but she had lost a lot of blood in the process, and that could cause complications if the area wasn't kept unexposed. Furthermore, if the gauze got too dirty, that could be a problem. Fortunately, Professor Manuela was normally the head physician at Garreg Mach on top of being a professor. The only issue was finding it half the time– the place was an utter sty. Clearly, Professor Manuela had never had to spend a hundred or more Cycles shaving seconds. Anything out of its proper place was a liability. I don't know how anyone managed to live like this.
Thus, I spent most of my typical Manuela Duty periods just organizing stuff. It was never remotely the same once I came back, but it was just helpful for myself and for her. I liked being helpful. It made me… feel fulfilled.
"Here it is," I commented, setting the bundle of bandage material on her still-cluttered desk. "I assume you'd like me to leave the room until you get settled with that?"
"You don't have to ask me that every time, you know," Manuela winked. It wasn't a wink like the ones she gave Jeralt, or Seteth sometimes. There wasn't any ulterior motive behind it. "The answer's going to be the same."
I nodded dutifully and stepped outside, easing the door shut behind me. It just felt more polite to ask. I whipped out my ocarina while I waited, idly tooting the New Wave Bossa Nova. I wondered how Lulu and her kids were doing. Strange– I hadn't really had a thought like that in a long time. Maybe Anju and Kafei had kids by now… actually, maybe not. It took a long time to grow a tree. That was how kids were made, right? Seeds falling from a tree's branches? That was what the Kokiri had always told me, at any rate. I wasn't sure if I believed them, but I didn't really have a reason not to
"Okay, you can come back in now," Manuela said through the oak of the door, shaking me out of my doldrums. I stepped back inside. "Oh, if only the average man was a tenth as respectful as you, Link… well, that's a foolish thing to think."
"Uh huh," I agreed noncommittally. "Maybe you're just looking in the wrong places." The men she mainly picked up were from the various bars near Garreg Mach. Maybe if she went there less, she'd be drunk less often and Manuela Duty would be a lot more bearable. She didn't respond, which was hopefully a good sign.
I eyed the domino mask lying haphazardly on her desk. When Manuela wasn't looking, I swiped it. Long had I awaited this day, when Jeritza's mask came into my clutches. Months of attempted trades, friendly conversations, silent admiration… all built up to this moment, when I had it in my grasp.
Take that, you sad old man.
I scribbled in my notes. Sixteenth of the Wyvern Moon. Traveling to Kleiman. Duscur, as it should be known.
I was flattered and honored that Prince Dimitri would choose to invite me on this mission. Recently, a request for aid was sent by Viscount Kleiman, who had annexed Duscur for the Kingdom shortly after the Tragedy. Apparently, a small army of Duscurian insurrectionists were on his doorstep. A number of other western lords had sent their forces to stamp out the uprising, and by the looks of it the rebels were going to be wiped out to the last man. That was why Dimitri had organized for the Blue Lion house to help handle the situation. Hopefully, we would be able to settle this peacefully. But if push came to shove… well, the Blue Lions could definitely shove.
Professor Byleth had arranged transportation, fortunately. It was myself, Dedue, Dimitri, Sylvain, and Ingrid in this cart. The ex-mercenary, Annette, Mercedes, Felix, and Ashe were in the other cart.
"How're you holding up, big guy?" I asked Dedue. He hadn't said a word for the entire trip so far. I wagered that he must have been worried about the wellbeing of the other Duscurians.
"I am… concerned. That this will not end well for any of us."
My face twisted. "Don't think like that, Dedue. It'll be a self-fulfilling prophecy, y'know? And lemme tell ya: prophecies suck. Hoo boy."
Dimitri's right hand said nothing. The only sound was that of the wheels on the road as we scaled the mountain separating Duscur from the rest of the continent.
"I told myself I would never come here," Ingrid was saying.
"Because of Glenn?"
"Because of Glenn."
"I feel like I'm missing some context over there," I chimed in.
"Glenn is–" Dimitri paused. "Was Felix's brother. He was engaged to Ingrid for a time, but… he fell during the Tragedy."
"The Tragedy…" I repeated. "Everything in Faerghus nowadays comes back to the Tragedy. And Duscur unjustly takes the blame."
Ingrid made a face, but didn't interject with whatever was on her mind.
Before I knew it, we were upon the meager forces. A tiny group of well-equipped Kingdom soldiers were already within striking distance of what appeared to be some kind of scouting party of the ragtag insurgents, who were more spread out around the mountainous area. "The Kingdom's vanguard has already arrived," Dedue noted. "Just as we'd feared, they far outclass the Duscur forces. We cannot stand by and allow another massacre, but we cannot obstruct the Faerghus army, either. Our best hope is to force the troops of Duscur to withdraw before the Kingdom soldiers get to them."
"The main body of the Kingdom's army is bound to arrive soon," Dimitri informed. "Until then, let's aim to quell this uprising ourselves. Once the main force arrives, we will be out of options. We must move fast.
"It seems the church and the Kingdom troops are not working together. My head hurts just thinking about it, but we may be able to use that. First, let's push Duscur to retreat. The Kingdom might then also withdraw without a fight." That seemed… very risky. What if they just… didn't?
"Let us be quick about it," Dedue ordered. And be quick about it we were. Our prime directive was to prevent the Kingdom army from descending upon the militia. That meant getting there fast. I dug in my pouch for Farore's Wind. I couldn't get straight over there, but I could just barely set one of my warp points up on the same plateau that they were on. I spent some magic to do so, and observed the situation. The Duscur forces were making a desperate charge. It wouldn't work– the Faerghusian soldiers were much better equipped, and most likely better trained as well. I spied some dilapidated buildings on the far side of the fight, and an idea sparked into my mind. What better way to divide two troops than a wall of fire?
I lit a Fire Arrow and readied my Hookshot. I lined up towards the wooden barn, and fired. The metal chain uncoiled, flying towards my target. As soon as I felt my feet leave the ground, I shoved my newborn torch into the ground, drawing a line of fire with the tip. The few plants that were there burst into flame, and soon a river of heat separated the Kingdom from the Duscurians.
"What sort of cheap trick is this?" A Faerghusian heavy knight demanded.
"Must be one of those murderous beasts' traps," a myrmidon assumed. "Fall back! We have to douse the flames! Those Duscur animals will have to wait!"
First of all, rude. Second of all, success! Now all I had to do was wait for them all to leave, and then play the Song of Storms to douse the newborn fire. Soon, the sun was blotted out and the sky opened with a torrential downpour, rendering my work bound to the history books. I did love it when a plan came together. It was just like crawling through dungeons in Hyrule and Termina– here was a problem, and I could interact with the environment and my items to solve it with maximum efficiency.
I darted through the rain and hopped through the warp point just as it dissipated. "Kingdom scouts are on the retreat!" I hollered over the storm, rappelling down a rocky outcropping and deflecting a blow intended for Annette.
"Really? How?" Ashe asked, who was also here. The rest of the force was either further ahead or taking care of the enemies to the east.
"I'll explain later!" I ducked under a punch and clocked the sender with the pommel of my sword. That was going to leave a nasty bruise, but he would live. The unarmed soldier quickly made his escape, and I turned my attention forward. By the time I got to the front lines, Dimitri, Dedue, and Ingrid were already deep in a thicket. The rest of our force was cleaning up and preparing to inform the Kingdom army of what had transpired.
"We will not relent," someone was saying. "Not until we have taken back the homeland you monsters stole from us!" It must have been the Duscurian general.
"I share the same sentiment," Dedue agreed.
"You? Who sold his soul to Faerghus?"
"His Highness has promised the people of Duscur a home." Dedue crossed his arms. "His will be a kingdom that is proud to harbor the blood of both Faerghus and Duscur."
"That's impossible. Don't be naive."
"Believe what you will. But Faerghus will change under his reign. That is my firm belief." I got the sense that Dedue was going to say more in the silence that followed, but Dimitri entered the conversation.
"The Kingdom army has retreated to the fortress. There should be no further danger," the crown prince assured.
"Prince of Faerghus! You monster!" The Duscurian general snarled.
"Can you still run? Then I suggest you do so now," Dimitri advised, barely taking note of the verbal assault. "Your people are waiting for you on the other side. Remain hidden from the Kingdom army."
"..."
"May our paths cross again," Dedue finished.
The other man turned away. "I certainly hope not. But remember this one thing: the people of Duscur never forget their grudges… nor do they fail to honor favors." And then he was gone.
"Thank you, Your Highness, for accommodating my selfish request." He called that selfish?
"Think nothing of it," Dimitri assured, echoing my own sentiments. "This is something I wished for, as well. If you must give thanks, give it to the church for allowing us to join the battle, and to Link for somehow diverting the Kingdom forces that had already arrived. It's about time we headed back. The professor and the others are waiting."
Dimitri and Dedue left. I realized that they hadn't even realized I was there. I followed them, but paused once again when I saw them once again paused in a clearing. But Dimitri…
"Are you injured?"
"No." Oh. That was Ingrid.
"Good."
"..."
"..."
…
"I would have cut my way through. Alone. Without your assistance." She sounded… angry, almost? Why, and how? Dedue was one of the kindest people I had ever met.
"My apologies." And moreover, why did Dedue just let people walk all over him like this? He had been like this in Fhirdiad, as well.
"Your apologies are empty."
"..."
"I… I spoke out of turn. I'm sorry, Dedue. His Highness has put his faith in you. You are a valuable comrade, regardless of my feelings." Her expression became angered, in a distant sort of way. "I… the people of Duscur…"
"Save your breath."
"I–"
"There were countless people like you in the capital. People who spat, threw things– insults and stones alike– whenever they pleased. Their anger was natural. I don't begrudge them."
"I– I see."
"You owe me no apology. And I will keep my distance on all other occasions. But on the field of battle, allow me to aid you. If you were to fall, His Highness would grieve."
"I see. Then I will accept your help… on the battlefield."
"Understood."
I couldn't take it anymore. I had to stop this… horrible discourse. "Dedue, how many times are we going to have this conversation?"
The two of them whirled to face me as I stepped out of the underbrush, a scowl painted on my features. "Link–"
"Zip it a moment," I ordered. "You're just going to say something like 'I am used to it'. Because guess what? You shouldn't be 'used to it', especially not when you're a hundred times better person than any of those egotistical morons could dream of being!
"And you." I turned to Ingrid, still seething. "Have you seriously been assuming that just because Dedue is from Duscur, that means he's some wretched baby-eating regicidal…" I trailed off, hands forming claws out of sheer frustration. "Even if Duscur was completely responsible for what happened to Dimitri's father– which, I remind you, they weren't according to both Dimitri and Sylvain– do you really think that gives you grounds to assume that Dedue– Dimitri's right hand, that Dedue– was also involved in that terrible business?"
Both of them appeared stunned at my outbursts. I could understand Ingrid's shock, to be fair, but honestly, at this point Dedue should be used to me barging into situations like these. I would always block the stones that came his way when I could, stick up for him when words were the projectiles, all to the best of my ability. Dedue didn't deserve to have to put up with any of that nonsense. I was glad I had had the good sense to hide my ears for all this time– I would likely have been treated with a neutered but similar xenophobia because of them, if anyone had noticed.
Anger bubbling, I stalked away before I could say something I would regret. I got in the cart, and said nothing for the entire trip back to Garreg Mach.
You heard it here, folks– Link isn't racist.
Review please!
Louie Yang (FF): Believe it or not, the second half of White Clouds is longer than the first half. Creative uses of Link's arsenal are definitely forthcoming. I could see Link in basically any Fódlan faction– his connection to Dimitri makes him a natural fit for the Blue Lions, his personal beliefs probably lean closest to Claude's, and Katáktisi would be a total Edelgard fan.
CuddlyManaki (AO3): If you're not spending all your days as a murderous gremlin, what are you doing with your life?
Equalized Enigma (FF): The Link & Seteth scenes always slap. Every time, without fail.
DarthFlores (FF): Link's 'arc' in pre-timeskip definitely has a lot to do with becoming accustomed to being around other people again. I'd say he still has a fair amount left to go– he has a lot of casual acquaintances, but very few real friends– and he has a lot of trouble with emotional vulnerability. I moved the Battle of the Eagle and Lion to the next chapter because this one was getting pretty long, and I also wanted to do War for the Weak so Dedue doesn't die in post-timeskip. (I forgot that little caveat when I was writing the chapter, and only remembered in the middle of writing Chapter 19.)
A fan (FF): The new name poll has been closed. Thank you for your input, though– I really appreciate it!
Aemon_Targaryen13 (AO3): I believe the actual lyrics of GSS says Fodra, and it's translated as Fódlan. I'm going to pretend that Link's view of age is really messed up and that's why initially he sees Dimitri, Dedue, and Felix as older and definitely not because I just forgot, no way. I assure you that this will not be a mindless Nabatean bashing story– I want to be nuanced with my writing, and Seteth is my favorite character in the game. Katáktisi is supposed to not be very likable by this point in the story. Regarding Maurice, my logic was that if he was turned into a metal dog after the War of Heroes, he probably would have fought in the War of Heroes, so Seiros would have probably worked him into her revision of history instead of pretending he never existed; plus, Katáktisi was forged during the War of Heroes, probably between year 60 and 80 if I had to estimate. Thanks for the feedback, I really appreciate it!
XLilaXTheXSpecterX (AO3): I would be remiss not to! I think Link has already purchased a couple new masks– not any with magic, mind you. I think I mentioned them in one of the earlier chapters off-handedly. There will be more!
hg4fmwzb (AO3): Hi! While I'm flattered that I would be invited to such an event, I fear I must decline. My writing style is simply not compatible with a competitive environment, and I believe it would suffer drastically as a result. I'm not looking for other sources of stress in my life right now. It certainly sounds fun, and I am sorry to let you down like this, but I believe it's for the best. Thank you very much for your offer!
