11th of Wyvern Moon

It had started as a peaceful day, like any other. Macuil had dozed under the sun, warming his old bones. The scratches Seiros had given him were mostly healed, and their was little sand left to irritate them. It seemed the afternoon would pass by just as peacefully, but then for some damnable reason, a collection of humans stumbled upon him. They were shouting amongst themselves, no doubt gawking. Still, Macuil would be content to leave them be.

Then something sharp hit his beak.

Macuil tried to ignore it, at first. He gave a shudder, before settling, which was usually enough to make humans Weigh their mortality.

Then a second something was thrown, closer to his eye. Macuil grunted, and prepared himself. Opening his eyes, he saw a number of humans on foot chasing a wagon, with plenty more riding pegusi. They all wore black armor, and seemed to be shouting something about a bounty. It didn't matter. Macuil stretched his wings, and summoned a sandstorm to destroy the pegusus force. Some held on longer than others, but in short order, all the humans were killed, save for the group in the wagon. They did not attack him, so he saw no need to respond. Smelling the air for the first time, he could sense—

Oh no. Them again.

"What is the meaning of this!" Macuil shouted down to the assembled humans. Seiros and Cichol were not among their number, for whatever reason.

"What we meant, Saint Macuil, was to—"

"—didn't mean for them to find you, much less attack you—"

"—Just doesn't make any—"

"SILENCE." The Saint's voice boomed over the hot sands as he glared down at the assembled humans. Bodies of Imperial Soldiers were scattered everywhere. "This is Seiros' doing. I know her handiwork." A loud, contemptuous sound rolled out of his snout, scattering sand and dust over the group. "Letting these humans know where I was in a pathetic attempt to 'make me see', or some such nonsense. Tell her my answer is still—"

"This wasn't Seiros' plan." A small voice dared to speak up. It was a white haired girl. The one who smelled of Whilhelm and the Crest of Flames. "She's unconscious, and has been since your spat. I lead them to you."

Macuil stared down at the child. "And what, pray tell, was your aim in all this?"

"Our vessel is badly damaged, and Nemesis' soldiers are encircling us." The girl bowed her head, and the rest of the party followed. "We came to beg you to carry us to Leicester, and more friendly ground."

"No." Macuil rolled his eyes. "I thought I made it clear to both Seiros and Cichol that I want nothing to do with their little wars. I do not care if Nemesis truly has risen from his grave, and no amount of begging will change that fact."

"Please sir," The girl bowed deeper. "The archbishop—Seiros—is in no condition to carry us across the ocean, or anywhere else that might constitute safety. If what Se—Cichol has told us is true, it shouldn't take more than a day of your time, and once we are safely away, the empire will bother you—"

"Once again, the answer is no." Macuil snarled. "Seiros and Cichol got themselves into this mess, so they can get themselves out. And besides," Macuil leaned closer to the girl, and let out a burst of hot air. To her credit, the child barely flinched at the sudden swarm of sand blasted into her face. "Don't think I am not wise to your little scheme. You lead these soldiers, your problem, to me. You offer me a bargain, have me solve one of your problems, and you will make sure I don't have to deal with the problem you introduced. No doubt you are planning to divert more of their forces towards me, use me as a convenient way to dispose of more of your problems. " Macuil glanced down at the other assembled humans, all of whom wore tight, stressed expressions. "Well, child? Do you deny this?"

The girl looked up at him. Her face was awash with a desperate determination. "No."

"No?" Her honesty surprised Macuil.

"That was our plan. My plan." The girl continued on, a fire in her eyes. "It was just as you said. Cichol told us you would see through it immediately."

"...Yet you went ahead with it." Macuil tilted his head. "To what end? I have made my position clear. And while it will greatly annoy me, I can find another place to slumber."

"Because it was our only option." The girl said. "The enemy's patrols will tear us apart if we try to flee by sea. The mountains to the west are similarly hostile, and soon to be swarming with wyvern riders. We cannot teleport anywhere nearby. You are our only hope of escaping this place with all of our party alive."

Macuil stared down at the young woman. Her eyes hid a fire crackling. The like he had not seen since the first war. "...And you cannot wait for Seiros to recover? She has enough strength to carry you all."

"Because the empire will keep sending soldiers after us, and we can't guarantee that the archbishop will survive!" The young woman snapped. "You could easily save us! We ask for nothing more than a few hours of your oh-so-busy schedule, that we might save Fódlan from Nemesis' tyranny!" Her voice was rage, white hot and so very familiar. "I plan to split his head open for all the wrong he has done to my nation. After the genocide he inflicted on your people, the least you can do is take us to our first step!"

Macuil took a breath. The other humans glanced between him and their leader, unsure of what to do. For her part, the young woman refused to break eye contact, even as he loomed over her tiny form. At last, Macuil let out a long, withered sigh.

"Understand, human, that this is the last you will ever see of me."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." She shot back. "A coward like you is best left in the dustbin of history."

Macuil paused. The young woman held her ground, staring up at him in defiance. "A coward, you say?" He growled. "You think insulting your only way out is a competent strategy?"

The other humans balked, desperately shouting out excuses. The young woman was resolute. Undeterred. Like Seiros two days before and in ages past. "It's what you deserve."

snorted a dry laugh. "Presumptuous brat." Very much like her indeed.

Macuil had delivered, taking the ship up into the air with his magic and flying them far south, beyond where any imperial patrol would be looking for them. Just off the mainland, near Edmund lands. The group had hidden inside the cabins to try and escape the howling winds during the flight, and were now gathered above on the ship's deck.

The experience had been surreal for Edelgard. She had ridden Wyverns before, but this was another experience altogether. And from the looks on her companion's faces, they all agreed.

"I don't mean to criticize success, Edie, but did you really have to " Dorothea managed. "But did you really have to goad Macuil like that? Call him a coward? For a second there, I thought the whole gamble was about to fall through."

"It was...quite risky." Marie spoke between deep breaths. The flight had not agreed with everyone.

"It was…perhaps unnecessary." Edelgard bit her lip. "But the nerve of that…him. The man he should hate above all else returns from the dead, his family begs him for help, and all he can muster is indifference?" She shook her head. "Men like him make my blood boil."

"Still, this was nothing short of miraculous." Seteth exhaled against the ship banister. "Macuil has always been fickle, but I had thought our only hope was that the years and isolation had dulled his wits. How did you know to go on the offensive with him?"

"Oh. Err..." Edelgard blinked. "I didn't really. It was just…instinct. He didn't seem the type to be impressed by clever words and white lies, so I thought the truth might be better."

"...You didn't know what you were doing?" Yuri glanced at her incuriously, but the expression was quickly fading into anger. "You pissed off that thing, that could have killed us all, just because you had a feeling?"

"Have you ever negotiated with something the size of a castle, Yuri?" Dorothea asked in Edelgard's defense. "Besides, Edie's quick thinking got all of us out of danger. What's to complain about?"

"Of more concern is our next move." Hubert said as he helped Ferdinand vomit over the side of the ship. "Lady Edelgard's wit saved us from annihilation, but we still have to plan our next move. Shall we return to empire lands, or try and break through to the kingdom?"

"The empire knows we are somewhere. Macuil won't be returning. And Claude made his feelings clear, so there's no point in staying in Leicester." Edelgard chewed her lip. "...It would be easier, if much longer to try and break for imperial lands. Faerghus is much closer, but there are bound to be scores of imperial patrols, not to mention their battle lines."

Jeralt grunted, and rubbed his hair. "And I'm sure Yuri will be charging us extra for each..."

"Your stupidity necessitates it."

Dorothea sighed. "In either case, we're in trouble. Should we put it to a vote?"

"I have another suggestion." Everyone turned to see Rhea barely managing to hold on to the railing, wobbling along with the waves.

Jeralt raised an eyebrow. "What, cutting through Garreg Mach? That's still quite the hike, an no less dangerous."

"No." Rhea's eyes gleamed. "No more running. Now, we make our allies and enemies come to us."

3rd of Red Wolf Moon

"General, new reports—"

"—lost contact with—"

"—Haven't heard back from—"

"SHUT UP!" Metodey roared. His staff instantly froze in place, terrified. "I heard it once, I don't need it repeated!" His eyes snapped to one of the lesser officers. "Is this latest insurgency still moving in the same direction?"

"Yessir!" The man gulped.

"Then that's all we need to know. We have a battalion, and will crush Riegan's latest insurgency just like all the others! And this time, I want the Almyran's head!"

For the past week, Metodey had been getting reports of skirmishes with a small, elite force, attacking imperial outposts and camps in former Edmund territory and actively recruiting villagers to their cause. It had been some time since the last large-scale insurrection, but this was undoubtedly Riegan's work.

"It's not him." Norma said lazily. "I told you, it's the imperial defectors, Vestra and Aegir. Riegan was last seen south near Gloucester territory, after the first reports came in."

Metodey sneered down at the woman. She didn't flinch. "Didn't you send a small army after this purported sighting? Aren't you supposed to be out looking for them right now?"

Norma gave him a very long, bored stare. "It's been weeks. They can teleport. Three or four squadrons haven't reported back in."

"Yes, but no one can teleport that many people across the sea that quickly!" Metodey could see the woman fight to keep her eyes from rolling back, which did nothing for his mood. "Listen here, woman—"

Norma lazily picked up the Lance of Ruin at her side and used it to stand up. Metodey had the well honed survival instincts to shut his mouth. Norma barely regarded him before snorting. "That's General Woman to you."

"...My apologies, General." Metodey retreated. "I…merely meant to say that Riegan is slippery. You are new to the Leicester territory, and I promise you, the man's ability to slip through the cracks is undeniable. He has undoubtedly rabble-roused, and summoned up a small army of peasants to strike. Probably for a feint of some kind. It is best for us to simply ride out and crush this army with a small elite force, before dealing with whatever blow the man has planned for us."

Norma shrugged. "Fine. We'll do this your way."

Metodey smirked. "Thank you, General—"

"But not with a small elite force. Use some of the penal forces instead."

His expression faltered. "What do you mean? Surely it would be quickest—"

"No, if Riegan is behind this, it's best to use some of our more expendable troops to deal with the distraction, while the experienced soldiers stay on guard." Norma yawned, and leaned against her Relic. "Plus, you and I will be going out with our personal guard. It won't take too long, right?"

"...Yes, yes, of course." Metodey smiled back. "Have no fear, General. I and my guard will make short work of these worms!" He gave the required bow before spinning around to snarl at his staff. "Well, what are you waiting for? Assemble some men, and let's be rid of this nuisance! Hurry up, before I throw you bureaucrats onto the front lines!"

If Metodey were more observant, he might have heard Norma snort out a laugh as she walked past him.

4th of Red Wolf Moon

It was a clear, sunny day, perfect weather to field their fliers. Metodey marched along his personal guard, just behind the frontlines. Their scouts had reported that the peasants were just an hour or so away. It would be a simple operation, despite Norma's complaints.

"Hey. Metodey." Speaking of…

"Yes, General?"

Norma was dismounted while her wyvern took a drink with the other beasts from the nearby river. "This is what, three hundred men? Shouldn't you have summoned at least twice that? There are quite a few angry townsfolk, given the reports."

"They are half-starved country bumpkins armed with farming equipment. It doesn't matter if we have three dozen or three hundred. They'll flee once they see the imperial banner. Besides, your arial units will be able to chase anyone down!"

Norma blinked, once, twice, and then turned. "Whatever. I'll be above, flying under the sun."

Metodey sneered after the woman, but resumed the march. The sooner they finished this, the sooner the woman would leave him be and go chase after Vestra and Aegir. And it really was just putting down a few peasants. Nothing he hadn't done a thousand times before.

It was just after noon when they spotted the peasant's encampment. It was sizable, with perhaps two thousand people all huddling in tents, if even that. Better yet, they had made camp on flat ground, next to a river. Metodey quickly barked out orders to his men, and they rushed to encircle the camp. The peasants cowered at the display, retreating to the river's edge.

It couldn't be more perfect. "Peasants! I am Metodey, general of the Adrestian Empire! You are suspected of attacking imperial soldiers!" He bellowed out. "But fear not! Let your leaders come, and we will clear this up right away! Surrender, and no harm will come to you!"

The peasants seemed to respond to that. A flurry of activity began in the camp, but it did seem like they were assembling a small group to come out and meet him. Metody nodded to some of his guards, who began to disperse among the soldiers, readying them to charge ahead once he decapitated their leaders.

Not five minutes had passed before their leaders showed themselves. The most obvious was a young man with long orange hair—It was the Aegir boy, perhaps Norma had been right. Still with the bounty on the ex-noble's head, Metodey had just struck gold. Of course the woman would undoubtedly fight him for the corpse, but there were some advantages to being on the ground. He would be able to make the Aegir's body disappear in the chaos of war.

There were a few other people Metodey didn't recognize in the distance, but there was one very strange woman among their ranks. She wore white robes, and had ethereal green hair flowing past her shoulders. In fact, Metodey had only ever heard of the long-gone archbishop Rhea—

Holy shit, was that the archbishop? Forget Aegir, her head would make him the wealthiest man in Fódlan!

The second after that thought crossed Metodey's mind, the woman summoned forth a burst of blinding light. A white-hot fireball erupted from the nova, slamming into one of Metodey's columns. In an instant, fifty of his men died.

As the light faded and peasants cheered, panic and rage struggled to take control of imperial forces. Metodey saw one of his men turn to flee. The general rushed ahead, and pulled his sword on the man. "Where do you think you're going, soldier!?"

The man quaked in his boots. "S-sir, they just annihilated an entire squadron! What hope do we have?"

"Do you see them preparing another blast?" Metodey sneered.

"N-no?"

"Then charge, and stop them from doing it again, or I'll have all your heads! We still have an entire battalion above us! Scatter the peasants, and let the wyverns rip them apart!"

That seemed to be enough to calm the men down. Metodey raised his sword, bellowed, and they all charged.

Norma looked down on the battlefield as the imperial army charged ahead. "Ma'am, shouldn't we begin our dive?" One of her riders asked. "We took heavy losses, and need to make sure that mage dies."

"Nope."

"...What?"

"I said, there's no need." Norma shrugged. "Let it play out."

"But general, surely we should try to help kill the insurgents! Besides, if that mage fires again—"

The smell of magic in the air crackled in the air. Norma quickly pulled the reins, and her mount dived out of the way. The other rider wasn't nearly as quick. Norma watched with mild interest as a meteor spell smashed into him headfirst, sending the soldier and her wyvern crashing down below.

"This seems like as good a time as any to retreat." Norma shouted. "Let's go."

The other riders quickly obeyed, falling back into formation. One of the pegasus riders dared to raise another objection.

"General, are you sure we should retreat? Leaving another general to die seems…cowardly." Norma gave the man a sideways glance. "Not that I would ever accuse you of such a thing!" He quickly added.

"Eh." Norma glanced down at the battle. From the look of things, Metodey had managed to be encircled by a few other insurgents. And from the faint orange glow in two of their hands… "Nothing of value was lost."

It was a clear, sunny day. The battle was a quick, if brutal affair, made all the easier when Dorothea scared off the flying reinforcements. Add to the fact that the enemy commander took the obvious bait, and the encirclement was made all the easier.

"See Claude?" Hilda gave a happy little shrug, her fashionable clothing none the worse for wear. As always. "Aren't you glad we dragged you here?"

"Hilda, this is just another battle." Claude tugged on his collar. "This is no different than all the other times we've fought the empire, except this time you forced me to dress for the occasion."

He had been forced to groom and shave this morning, and Hilda had pulled out a more regal-looking set of clothing from somewhere, and forced him into it. Of course, the shirt barely fit and the pants itched something fierce, but Hilda and the rest of the Deer had just told him to suck it up. It was like his grandfather had never died.

"That's not true, Claude!" Cyri snapped. "Lady Rhea has a plan, and she's been gathering support for us!"

Claude shook his head. Failnaught twitched against his shoulder. "Just because Rhea's here, that doesn't mean anything will change. In case you haven't noticed, people don't like me."

"Claude…" Marianne started.

Raphael cut in. "Look, leader-man. I know you've had it rough, but just give this a chance. People like Rhea!"

"I've given this fight enough chances." Claude shot back. "And besides, Rhea has enough hangers-on. I don't feel like playing lapdog to her."

"Claude—"

It was Leonie's turn next. "Now listen here, buster! You don't get to decide Lorenz died for nothing! If Lady Rhea has a plan, we follow it! My son's father won't go unavenged!"

"Oh, don't you dare use Lorenz' name!" Claude hissed. "He wanted to surrender to the empire more than once, as you oh-so conveniently forget! I—"

"Claude!" Marianne shouted, loud enough to break the argument for a few seconds. "Lady Rhea is giving a speech." She pointed at the entrance to the camp. Rhea was standing on a stack of crates. In front of her, the entirety of the peasant camp stood assembled, rapt and in attention.

"Maybe we should go talk to her?" Marianne managed.

Claude bit his lip, gave his best put-upon sigh, and began to walk.

"—And so, betrayed by a land he called home, the half-prince had every reason to run to the land of his birth!" Rhea's voice was animated, full of fire and passion. "He had lost everything, but still chose to fight for Leicster!" Claude paused, and looked back at his companions. They all had similarly confused expressions. "For five years, he as struggled, fighting, bleeding, suffering! In the name of the Goddess! In the name of country! In the name of freedom!" Even Cyril, who supposedly knew what was happening, seemed confused. "Many have rejected him! Loathed him! But here he stands now, ready and waiting to deliver you!"

The crowd's attention shifted to Claude as soon as he approached. "And now, here he stands before you, after fighting for five hard years, his spirit has only strengthened! His companions, steadfast and true!" Rhea cried out. "What say you to him? He calls you to battle, how will you answer!?"

The crowd roared his name, chanting it to an unheard beat. All Claude could do was stare, trying not to look dumbfounded.

As always, thanks to a href=" " rel="nofollow"Dox/a for beta reading, and Happy Holidays to all!

A shorter chapter this time, but a necessary one. Kind of frustrated about the escape section turned out, but there just wasn't enough time to make it a proper chapter all it's own. Still, I promise something beefier next time. And yes, as mentioned before I have read Dune, now out in theaters. You may see subtle hints in the coming chapters.