Hee hee hee

Chapter XX

Directive number one– take a goddesses-forsaken bath.

If 'cleanliness is godliness' like Linhardt insisted that one time, I was feeling pretty unholy right about now. My clothes were spattered with both native and foreign blood, and apparently my face was in a similar situation. Funnily enough, I couldn't feel too much moisture in that area. How very odd.

I headed into the bathhouse and drew a reasonable amount of hot water. Once again, I marveled at the comforts the Fodraese lived with on a daily basis. Back in Hyrule and Termina, it was such a hassle to heat water to this degree because firewood was usually saved for wintertime to warm up buildings during the wintertime. Magic was nowhere near as widespread there. Well, it was arguably more abundant in Hyrule, but it was wild and untamed. It had not been forced to bend the knee to the lifestyle of the Hylians.

I set my pouch on the far side of the stall. Technically, these were reserved for students in the Officer's Academy, but I had never been called out for using it. I kept my weaponry within what felt like arm's reach of the tub itself, as usual. It wouldn't do to die, nude and alone, in a bathtub of all places. I could scarcely imagine a more embarrassing way to leave the world.

I delicately removed my combat boots, shrugged off my shirt and pants, and permitted myself to sink into the water. After today, I deserved to relax just a little bit, even if I despised the skin and the scars and the heights and the lengths that had been cruelly assigned to me. All of them were oh, so wrong. Maybe it was something about the warmth of this moment, or the silence save the gentle sloshing of the water, but this place just felt… comfortable. It was weird. I was more vulnerable in this state than I ever was at other times, except maybe while I was asleep. That should have made me feel on edge, but it didn't. I felt strangely at ease. I decided I hated it. Best to wrap up here as quickly as possible.

I took a moment to look around my stall in slight confusion. There wasn't a hand mirror anywhere to be found. That was fine– I had the Mirror Shield in my pouch at all times. I had left it near the corner of the stall. I shifted, leaning forward to reach for the bag. But alas, I couldn't… quite make it. Ugh, another reminder of my crippling dysphoria. Grumbling softly to myself, I stood, the water pooling around my calves, and reached over to pick up the pouch.

I dug around for a moment, eventually revealing the garish face on its polished surface. It had been hiding under the skull-shaped mask I had picked up in Fhirdiad. No explosive powers, of course, but it still looked pretty cool.

I looked at my reflection and froze, the blood flowing in my veins transforming into ice water. Because it was not blood that had been stained upon my face. No, that would be a normal explanation for what had occurred.

Hanging beneath my right eye, running along my cheekbone towards my sideburn… were two long, red marks. There was no mistaking it– it was the selfsame war paint that marred the Fierce Deity's Mask. But it was not just paint; as I hesitantly put my hand to my cheekbone, I immediately knew it was a part of my skin.

What. Did. You. Do.

I am surprised this did not occur sooner, Katáktisi admitted. I had thought that, since it did not occur earlier, you would be spared from this more obvious influence.

The 'not-so-obvious' influence being…?

Your response to my programming.

Oh. I thought for a moment. Can you take it back?

Can you unshatter a star? Fair point.

This is… very inconvenient. Seteth and Rhea will ask questions if they see this, and I can't exactly avoid them forever.

And you can avoid Ashe forever?

I bit back a knee-jerk retort. Nobody is going to believe Ashe if he tries to tell anyone about what happened. But they're Nabateans. They run the show. And they'll recognize your marks– Flayn did.

If you must, cover it.

With what? A hood will only work for so long. If I pass Flayn or Rhea or– Farore forbid, Seteth– they'll see it. They'll know. And then we'll both be dead. People are more perceptive than you want them to be, but never as much as you think. If I start wearing a hood all the time, they will notice.

I am entirely aware, Katáktisi snarled. In Fodra, it is normal for particularly vain mortals to wear dye on their face to cover… imperfections. While my markings are far from that, you could do the same if you truly insisted on such… indecency.

My jaw slackened as I processed the sheer lunacy of this statement. Let me get this straight. You normally alter your hosts physically–

Yes.

and when I wore you once and I didn't get your war paint, you just assumed it wouldn't happen–

You wore me several times over the course of many months, so–

And, I continued, stifling laughter, the only solution you can think of right now is to put on makeup. Makeup!

Katáktisi was silent for a second. Yes.

Well, at least Caiaphas had given me the Stone Mask to move around without detection. That had proved to be awfully convenient, even if I hated the fact that he had intruded upon me for some nefarious purpose that Katáktisi and I had yet to learn. Stupid Salesman.

I dealt with the bathwater, got myself dressed, delicately put the Stone Mask on my face– oh, how I had missed the anonymity it provided– and stepped out. If there was anyone I could track down who knew a thing or three about makeup, it would probably be Annette. Hilda was as annoying as a woodpecker drilling at my skull and most likely wouldn't take the problem seriously, and I didn't really know Dorothea all that well despite the occasional music lesson she'd give me. Annette seemed like the safest bet.

I found her in the dorms, apparently preparing to retire for the night. Perfect. She would be alone, which is exactly what I wanted for this offer. I waited for her to stop talking with Mercedes– they were making shopping plans for tomorrow, when the students were off of classes. Eventually, the older girl departed for evening prayers, and I slipped undetected into Annette's bedroom. It was the standard fare, really– a twin-sized bed, a desk, an armoire, and a chair for furniture, although she also had a small shelf stuffed with books.

"It's the night, we've got might, we were victors in the fight, we stomped Kronya and Solon, yeah, that's right…" she started singing to herself as she tidied up a couple of stray clothes strewn about the room. "All magic and spears, with help from the Deers, and the Eagles to really give them a fright!"

It was high time I made my presence known. "Those rhymes are pretty tight."

"Bah!" she shrieked. Maybe I should have approached this slightly differently. "Wh-who's there?"

"Just me," I said softly, taking off the mask. I had positioned myself between Annette and the door, facing away from her to hide the markings for a brief moment.

"What're– how did you even– what do you want, Link?! Don't scare me like that!"

"I'm sorry," I said genuinely. "I used an enchanted mask to make myself invisible on my way over. I didn't want news of my, um, condition to spread around."

"Uh, I'm just going to momentarily gloss over the fact that you just have a powerful magic item that's been theorized to be impossible to craft for centuries–" I froze. I did not know about that. "- but what's this about a condition?"

I turned around, the candlelight illuminating my marred face. Marked, I reminded myself. Marked. Sorry, Katáktisi.

"..."

"..."

"Okay, that is… not a bloodstain."

"Exactly. I think Solon did something to me," I lied. "Expanded on what happened between us in Remire. And I think these markings are evidence of that. I can't just walk around looking like this."

"If it's a curse you're worried about, you should really talk to Professor Manuela," Annette advised. It was a good idea that I couldn't abide by. "She would know a lot more about it than I do."

"It's not a curse," I clarified. "I don't feel any different right now, not like the villagers who went on a rampage. They were feeling ill for almost a month before anything happened. And besides, Solon is dead. I just… don't want to rock the boat right now. And that's where you come in."

"I don't really see how I fit into this."

I tsked. "You're a makeup expert." The girl with the Crest of Dominic blinked. I could feel the tips of my ears burst into flame. It sounded so much more ridiculous out loud. "C'mon, don't look at me like that. It's–"

"Hahahaha!" she laughed. "Let me make sure that I have this right. You grew cool war paint out of your skin because of Solon… and now you're coming to me to cover it up with makeup. Makeup!"

"I don't really have any other options here!" Did she just say the marks of Katáktisi were… cool? It's almost like she didn't remember being murdered by someone with these very marks. Funny how that worked.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm happy to help. It's just funny, is all." Annette took my hand and pulled me into the candlelight, tiny glyphs materializing from her fingers and snaking around the sides of my head. "Well, I'm not detecting any unusual magic. At least, no more unusual magic than you normally have. You should be okay, but if anything changes, talk to someone qualified, okay?"

"Fine," I grumbled, dutifully whipping out a spare notebook and setting a pencil to the page. "What's the first step?"

"Well, first, you gotta make sure your face is clean. That means that you have to be cleared of old makeup, dirt, and general oils."

"I just got back from the bathhouse," I explained. "It's where I noticed the marks in the first place."

"Okay, great." Annette grabbed a spare palette of Goddesses-knew-what that was lying on the edge of her desk. "The first step once you're ready to start putting on makeup is the primer. It'll make the makeup look better and last longer. Plus it protects it from sweat and grime and stuff, which is important if you're going to be running around swinging a sword everywhere."

"Sounds like me," I laughed as goodnaturedly as I reasonably could, given the circumstances. "Step one… primer… what's next?"

Annette put her hand to my chin, tilting my un-marred cheek into the light. "Definitely not porcelain… Alabaster might be a good fit… so would beige… Here." She pointed out two seemingly-identical colors. "Which one of these better matches your skin tone?"

I squinted at the two options. "Uh… these are the same color."

"They aren't." Her voice raised like it was a question.

"I can not tell the difference. Maybe it's the lighting, or maybe your eyes are just better than mine."

"They look nothing alike! Can't you see how the alabaster is so much paler than the beige?"

"No, I can't!"

She sighed. "We'll roll with beige for now. See, the foundation has to match your skin tone, otherwise it'll look weird."

"Okay. I see." I wrote that down as well.

"Next, you'll blend it with concealer. It'll even out blemishes like your, uh… predicament."

"Would it be possible for me to just use the concealer? After all, I'm trying to conceal."

"No. Well… you could, but it would look super unnatural. Anyone with a pair of working eyes would immediately know that something's up. Which I'm guessing you don't want."

"Right."

"Most of the hard work is done by this point. You'll set the foundation and concealer with some setting powder, and brush it into place. All that's left is to highlight, contour, and add blush. See, makeup without those makes your face look a lot flatter 'cause of the uniform color. We have to make the illusion of depth to sell it."

"Uh… huh…" I finished scribbling. "So if I have this correct– first you put primer on… then foundation– elblaster or beige or whatever they're called will do just fine… then you put on concealer… and after that, it has to be blended together with setting powder… and once that's done, you add highlights where you want it to be lighter and contour where you'd want it to be darker, I think… I pursed my lips in thought. "What am I missing?"

The blush, Katáktisi informed venomously.

"Oh. Blush." I sighed, adding that to my notes. "At least I only have to worry about one side."

Annette shook her head. "You have to do both sides."

"But I'm only trying to hide my right…"

"If you only do your right side, it'll look asymmetric."

I groaned. "This is so complicated…"

"Nothing worth having comes easy, y'know?"

I couldn't argue with that. I turned away again, Stone Mask in my hand once more. "Thanks for all your help, Annette. I… really appreciate it."

"You helped me track down my father. It's the least I could do, right?"


"Hey, Link!" Ashe greeted.

I kept my expression schooled. "Ashe."

"Are you doing anything at the moment?"

"I'm kind of busy right now. Is it important?"

"Well, no, I just–" Wanted to talk about what happened in the library.

"Not now." I dropped whatever it was that I was doing– probably something irrelevant– and marched away, trying not to think about how my ocarina was burning kiln-hot.


Stable cleaning again. I liked working with the horses– they didn't judge as much as humans did, and they didn't think ill of others for their words. They really had life figured out. Pull things, carry people around, and eat hay– that was the life of a horse. Simple and elegant. I was almost envious of them, on some level. They were always more intelligent than other creatures– I had always felt some level of connection between myself and Epona back in Hyrule and Termina. But they just did their own thing, and minded their own business. It was something I could respect.

But today, one of them was being… problematic.

"Easy, easy," I whispered, laying a hand on the horse's shoulder and rubbing gently. "What's gotten into you? You're not normally this temperamental."

"She doesn't want to go out because she doesn't want to see more death," a soft voice cut through my thoughts. I pivoted on my feet to see Marianne standing in the doorway, slightly hunched as though she wanted to take up as little space as possible. The bags under her eyes were still prevalent.

"You… know what they're thinking?" I asked. "I could never get more than a vague impression. I mean, I knew she was scared of something, but I couldn't quite piece together what." I hadn't seen Marianne basically at all this year, aside from here and occasionally in the chapel. Granted, a lot of the time I was doing my own work and as such the students sometimes melded into the background, but with her it was different.

"I… do. I'm sorry, but I should be–"

"No, no. I appreciate your company. Sometimes people just like to talk and talk, but it's nice to have someone around who can let the silence speak for them, y'know?" I turned back to the horse. "I promise– we're just going to be taking a walk around the monastery. Nobody's going to be dying today. Alright?" She nickered.

"You shouldn't… want to be around me. I'm… unlucky."

"You sound like Dedue."

"Huh?"

"He was always going on and on about–" I cleared my throat. "'It is unwise to associate yourself with me. As a man from Duscur, if others see you interacting with me, they will want to stop interacting with you.' Took him months to get it through his thick head that I don't care about what other people think. He's stubborn that way."

"I'm not sure where you're going with this…"

"I don't care about the circumstances of anyone's birth," I asserted, momentarily forgetting why I was here in the first place. "Regardless of whether you're from outside of Fódlan, or…" Maybe I needed to make it more overt. "Or whether you have a Crest coursing through your veins. I'm more interested in who someone is as a person. And that's not going to change."

"My… Link, I don't–"

"Yes you do," I stated. "Maurice, right?"

Marianne froze. Maybe going about it like this wasn't the best idea, but I was in too deep with it now.

"It sounds like you've gone through a lot of effort to keep this under wraps," I sighed, "and I don't intend to unravel that. I only figured it out because there was something slightly off about your magical signature– it's so subtle that I don't think anyone else has noticed.

"That's besides the point. What matters is that no matter what Crest you have, you're still you. I just want to make sure that you know that it doesn't define you. And neither should the crummy hand that life dealt you."

"Then what… does define me?" she asked, almost as quiet as the whispers of the wind.

"It's about outlook," I stated. "It's about what you do with what you were given. When I look at you, I see someone who's starting on that long road. I can't pretend to know what your situation is and how that Crest affects you, but I've stood in a similar position when I lost my entire community." She thought I was thinking about the village, but that wasn't what I was talking about, of course. Nothing could measure up to waking up seven years late, in a body that was yours but not. "I know how hard it is to keep going. And it's okay to feel miserable… so long as you don't wallow in it. Because that's what's going to stop you."

You should take your own advice, Katáktisi whispered.

That's different.

Is it?

Shut up.

"I, um… I guess it's odd. Everyone is always telling me to cheer up… but here you are, telling me not to. Your situation must also be difficult for you to understand my position, at least a little."

"I suppose so."

We let the silence speak for us.


It was unusually warm for this early in the Pegasus Moon. Normally, the temperatures would start to change later into the Lone Moon. I could feel the apricity in the air, hear the hustle and bustle of the Garreg Mach marketplace… and watch one Edelgard von Hresvelg and her manservant Hubert discretely packing a cart. My interest was piqued. Just what were they doing? It was probably none of my business. Still, I was curious. I walked up to Hubiekins with no regard for my own life.

"Whatcha up to, Hubert?"

"Her Majesty has some business in the Imperial Capital," Her Majesty's retainer said with a practiced air. "Pertaining to her father. It is none of your concern."

"Oh." He must have been talking about the aging Emperor Ionius IX. I supposed the stress of losing almost all power during the Insurrection of the Seven nine years ago would cause some health issues. That seemed reasonable. "Cool."

Caiaphas' words floated unbidden back to me. "Enbarr. One moon's time," he had said. "I have need of your strength, to save Agartha from its own foolishness. You will follow the pet of the Agastya." It hadn't quite been a month, but if there ever was a time to head to the Imperial capital, it would be now, wouldn't it?

I excused myself and slunk back into the monastery. I slipped the Stone Mask onto my face so that I would not be seen as I began to ascend the Goddess Tower. It was off-limits, after all, so hopefully nobody would come up here. Once I was up there, I casted Farore's Wind just in case to set a warp point to return to– I needed to think ahead just in case of the worst. With that done, I went back and hopped on the cart, and stuffed myself into a corner. In moments, we were on our way. It seemed like hours before anything remotely noteworthy came up.

"I don't believe I've told you this yet, Hubert," Edelgard mentioned, "but my uncle has summoned me to some sort of roundtable below the Capital."

"A clandestine meeting amongst those who slither in the dark?"

"I am unaware of the reason," the princess stated. "All I know is that my uncle deemed it important enough to request my attendance." I tried to piece together the new information. Edelgard's uncle was apparently Agarthan– Lord Arundel had been replaced by Thales for at least a couple of months. I didn't recognize the moniker of 'those who slither in the dark' from any of my experiences with Thales, Caiaphas, Solon, Kronya, or Odesse, but it certainly fit the bill. If Edelgard had ties to Agartha, that meant she was an enemy. Someone to be avoided. Did she know about me and Katáktisi? Did she know the Word? She seemed rather in the dark about her uncle's motives, so I hoped that that was a no.

"I see."

"Hubert, I will need you to delay Lord Aegir until the ceremony is complete. Any risk of an insurrectionist outside of my uncle, Lord Bergliez, and Lord Hevring being aware of… this… is best avoided." So Edelgard wasn't just here to deal with the Agarthans. She was doing… something else as well. Something I would have to quietly observe with the Stone Mask, if possible.

"It will be done, Lady Edelgard."

There was silence save the clopping of the horse drawing the carriage. And, of course, the interminable whirring of my mind, lost in thoughts all alone.


Enbarr was huge. Undeniably, impossibly, incontrovertibly huge. It managed to put Fhirdiad to shame, which had itself been many times larger than Castle Town or Clock Town. The cities of Faerghus had been more built for purpose, all stone and brick and dirt and mortar. The Imperial capital, by contrast, was coated in lush lawns around every building, roofs of terracotta stretching for as far as the eye could see. There was a more refined air to it, as the elements were not Adrestia's enemy as it was Faerghus'. But like the northern country, there was the stench of societal decay on the wind. The Adrestian Empire had been on the decline for some time, and it had only gotten worse ever since the Insurrection of the Seven. It was an open secret that Duke Aegir was in all but complete control of the government. Enveloping me was the hustle and bustle of Empire life, the all-consuming cacophony drilling into my oversensitive ears. The sound slowly died down as we approached the grand and imposing castle.

My legs were asleep. I laboriously shifted my position, the strange tingling sensation flowing through my extremities. I did not make a sound. I did not make a sight. The Stone Mask was getting claustrophobic. I would hopefully be able to take it off soon. I supposed I had to count my blessings– the heir apparent had used a Warp Cannon to get to the capitol, cutting weeks of travel time down to mere hours. Warp Cannons were effectively hotbeds of Faith magic that could teleport small objects great distances in mere moments. The logistical nightmare of getting that many skilled white mages made it unwieldy to use, not to mention the cost, both of which prevented it from being exploited in wartime. Plus it could only teleport one thing at a time, like say, a cart.

At least one of my wishes would soon be granted, as said cart discretely ground to a halt in an out-of-the-way stall. I tensed as Hubert bid Edelgard farewell, stepped into the storage section of the cart where I was hidden, and picked up a large box that I had not dared to open for fear of being heard. I sensed that now was the time to move, so I stepped out into the sunlight. Its warmth was blocked by the Stone Mask, but it was still nice to feel it on the rest of my body.

I decided that this place reminded me of the ancient castle of Ikana. It was decadent, splendorous, but it was not quite what it once was. Something profound had been lost a long time ago. All it was missing was if all the guards were replaced with Gibdos and Redeads.

I continued following Hubert as he lugged about this great box. He steered far clear of all other forms of life, namely the various guards who were currently escorting the heir apparent to her father in the throne room. The place was almost designed like Castle Blaiddyd back in Fhirdiad– a complete rat's nest of twisting corridors, endless rooms, and clandestine corruption around every corner. The main difference was that here in Enbarr, the corruption wasn't only the result of Rufus and Cornelia. Hubert and his unbidden escort veered into the mazelike passageways of Castle Enbarr, descending deeper and deeper below the ground by way of thin, claustrophobic staircases.

I drew in a silent breath through my nose. It was beginning to smell like the Shadow Temple. That couldn't possibly be a good sign. Especially considering the fact that I was now overwhelmed with a near uncontrollable urge to sneeze. My surroundings were dank and creepy. A chill coursed along my spine. I could not hold it in much longer. I swiftly departed from Hubert and his crate, feet splashing in what I hoped was water. We had apparently trekked into some sort of dungeon, given the cells. Spelunking a prison wasn't exactly on the list of things I was expecting to do today, but at this point I was barely even surprised. The sneeze tore itself from my mouth.

What was I doing here, anyway?

I froze. An echo bounced off a far wall and reached my obscured ears. It was the sound of conversation. But no Fodraese words were being exchanged. This was a dialogue in the ancient tongue. These were Agarthans.

There was no mistaking it. Caiaphas must have drawn me here, for this exact moment. If I were to interact with them, it would have to be in the guise of Katáktisi. It would have to be in the form of the Fierce Deity.

I could make out five voices, only two of which seemed familiar. I could easily identify one of them as Thales, the Agastya himself. What was he doing here? I thought I had successfully turned Agartha against Caiaphas by condemning him with Odesse in the form of the Fierce Deity, so how would Caiaphas know to direct me here? The second voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. The other three voices were unknown to me, but they were speaking in the ancient tongue and I didn't recognize any of them by sound alone, so it was clear that they were on Thales' side.

As I approached, the words crystallized into intelligible speech. I kept my ears craned for footsteps and the like as I neared what appeared to be some kind of dining room for prison wards– at least, that was probably what it was intended for. Obviously, were there to be any humans in the room, they would not be long for this world.

I peered into the room. It was empty save for a long, ornate table. About it were spread seven seats, six of which were occupied. Thales was perched at the head of the table, facing the door where I was hidden, entrenched in calculated conversation with a nearby Cornelia, who was seated on the side of the table at his left. Mirroring the Faerghusian court mage was a wall of golden armor. Rounding out the right side were two Gremories, thick veils obscuring their faces. As far as I could tell, the only differences between the two was the strange zigzagging sword resting on the closest one's hip, and the gauntlets bearing the same strange circuitry as the Fierce Deity in this world that graced the further one's arms. If I looked closer, I could also tell that one of them was taller than the other and the furs wreathing their shoulders were a slightly different shade. Rounding out the ensemble was a male figure, wearing a long, pointed hat with a wide brow. I had to respect the fashion choice. The last seat, at the middle of the right side, was conspicuously empty.

A Sagemoot? Katáktisi whispered? Why here, in this den of humans?

A what now?

A Sagemoot, the Crestwraith reiterated, as though that answered any of my questions. The governing body of Agartha is made up of the seven sages. My blood ran like ice. Seven Sages… my mind flitted to Saria. Darunia. Ruto. Impa. Nabooru. Rauru. Zelda. Was there a connection there? When they meet, it is a Sagemoot. From their positions, I may tell you their names.

That made sense. Please.

Thales, the Agastya himself and premier sovereign. Cleobulus, High Tactician and the mastermind of Fodra's political divisions. Chilon, Agartha's Fist and her supreme general. The Twins, Bias and Pittacus– Forger of Ideals and Taker of Blood. Myson, Commander of Interior Affairs and right hand of the Agastya.

I mulled over these new names in my head. That's only six. You said there were seven.

The last is Epimenides. Harbinger of Progress, creator of the Crestwraiths. He has not arrived because he is dead– slain by Seiros in the War of Heroes.

Katáktisi had said that name, Epimenides, a number of times. Enough for it to stick in my mind, at the very least. I was distracted by the distant march of armored footsteps. Despite the Stone Mask still gracelessly attached to my face, I pressed myself further into the dingy darkness as the intruder approached. I was greeted with the white and red mask of the Flame Emperor. What was he doing here? Why had he come here to the Sagemoot?

"You will follow the pet of the Agastya," Caiaphas had said. It hit me– the Salesman must have been referring to the Flame Emperor. Since I had hitched a ride with Edelgard and Hubert to get to Enbarr, it must have been one of those two. It made a little sense, as the Flame Emperor had shown up in Garreg Mach twice already.

There was only one logical conclusion to make. Hubert von Vestra was the Flame Emperor. The masked man was, after all, too tall to be Edelgard.

The armored individual stalked past me and swept into the room with a commanding flourish. Immediately there was a great hush in the room, and I leaned into the doorway to see the action for myself.

"Flame Emperor," Thales greeted coldly as the Emperor moved to stand at the opposite end of the table. I was confused as to why he didn't sit down in the available seat, but Katáktisi was quick to inform me that during a Sagemoot, only the Sages themselves were permitted to be seated. Duly noted.

"I was summoned," he remarked. Because of the muffling of the mask, I couldn't tell if it was Hubert's voice definitively. But it couldn't possibly have been Edelgard. Calling yourself the Emperor as the heir apparent to the Adrestian Empire was not a very smart move. "I expect you have a reason to interrupt my business." Brave, coming from the pet of the Agastya. If Thales was insulted, he did an excellent job of hiding it.

"Your business is my business, of course. If you will notice, we are six," the Agastya pointed out. "A matter has come up of supreme import. Should we be split, you will be the decider." Such hubris! He truly thought the Flame Emperor was his obedient servant, but his introduction was so uncouth. Most likely, there was some four-dimensional chess gambit that I was not aware of.

There will be no deadlock, Katáktisi spat. This is an exercise of power.

What do you mean?

Should my theory be correct–

There was a flash of purple light in the door, and I took a step back to avoid accidentally colliding with it. When the spots faded from my vision, Caiaphas' lanky form occupied the doorway. He looked directly at me, despite the mask adorning my face, and grinned slightly wider.

which it is– you will understand soon enough.

"Ζήτω η Αγκάρθα," Caiaphas greeted with fake warmness, flitting further into the room.

"You know why you have been summoned," Cornelia– no, Cleobulus– said in response. I could not see Chilon's face behind his helmet, but I knew his gaze was locked on the Salesman. Myson's expression was twisted into some form of disdain.

Caiaphas moved without moving, in that unsettling way that he so often did. "I am to stand trial for the crime of sedition, no? You will understand that–"

"That is correct," Bias cut him off. "The Sages have elected to hear your testimony, however." Aha. It truly was as Katáktisi had thought. "The Flame Emperor is present to sever any ties in your fate."

"O Empress of Flame." Empress, huh. I immediately crossed out Hubert from the ever-shrinking list of 'People who could be the Flame Emperor'. "My life is in your hands, it seems. As, do you not believe, are so many others? Oho!"

"What is the meaning of this?" Not Hubert demanded. There was only one person it could be– Edelgard von Hresvelg herself. Impossible…

Katáktisi, what's the Flame Emperor's Crest? I asked.

There… are two. The Crest of Seiros… and the Crest of Flames, came the reply. Bearing two Crests was supposed to be a biological impossibility, but Lysithea had done it, so there wasn't really a reason that the Flame Emperor couldn't. There were only two people I knew who bore the Crest of Seiros– and this sure as hell wasn't Rhea. I knew Byleth didn't have the Crest of Seiros, so she was already off the table.

She must have been wearing something in her boots to make her taller. I had several questions. First of all, why ally with Agartha? I could see Hubert doing it to win a powerful ally for Edelgard, but the heiress herself? Secondly, had it been Edelgard that Odesse was referring to all that time ago in Shambhala? Was Edelgard the one to receive Ηγεμονία?

"You will be silent," Pittacus reminded harshly. Her voice was sharp, but almost melodic.

"Now, now," Caiaphas said. "It is my belief that the world must return to our hands. I have taken a leave of absence from Fódlan, I admit, to pursue Κατάκτηση and Μιζέρια. But what has changed in all these years? Seiros' fist has only become tighter. The mortals still breed like flies– can none see that this is not a good happiness?"

"You admit to conspiring against us?" Bias demanded, folding her arms.

"I only did what any of us would have done, were they not blinded by hubris and complacency." I could sense Caiaphas's grin growing wider without him moving his mouth. "War will come against the Fell Star… and there exists only one vehicle for victory."

"The Σιγίλφάσματα," Cleobulus finished.

The Salesman laughed in that all-knowing way of his. "They have slain their kind in the past. They are more than capable of destroying what little resistance remains from Seiros and her devotees."

"You will not be permitted to upend a thousand years of planning!" Myson screamed, slamming his fist into the table. He was obviously the most loyal to Thales. "Their Saints defeated Nemesis, even with the Elites and the Relics and the power of all the Σιγίλφάσματα!"

"Our current mode of operation has seen results," Pittacus added in that lilting way. "Duscur. The Insurrection of the Seven. Even the Flame Emperor's rise to power was facilitated by us. The Church of infidels is far weaker than it was a thousand years ago." They caused Dimitri's Termina?! My blood was boiling, but I steadied myself– although it took all my willpower to do it. Now was not the time for blind rage.

"And yet, we still rely on proxies to do our bidding," Cleobulus spat, jerking her head towards the Flame Emperor. I could tell she was very confused about the whole affair even through the mask. "The Σιγίλφάσματα could destroy what remains of Nabatea and root out the descendants of the Elites."

"That may be true," Bias admitted, "but I highly doubt open blasphemy against us is the path you wish to walk. Is it not possible to simply incorporate the Σιγίλφάσματα directly into our current plans?"

Caiaphas shifted instantly, and I readied for what I knew was coming. "Oh, but you see– I am not the only one who knows that the Σιγίλφάσματα are being squandered. Aγωνία believes much the same. In fact…!" The Word crawled its way into my skull, leeching my will and dominating it. I stood still, its weight imprisoning my feet. "Please, Κατάκτηση– inform the Agastya exactly how you feel."

I knew that if I resisted, my feet would most likely carry me into the room itself. I did not want myself, Link Harkinian, to be seen by the Sages– or worse, Edelgard. They only needed to know Katáktisi. They only needed to know the Fierce Deity. I would have to take off the Stone Mask to don the Crestwraith. With that in mind, I permitted the Word to control me, doffing my disguise, becoming the Fierce Deity in a flash of light.

I was not afraid. Because for all Caiaphas spoke of the hubris of the Agarthans, he sure didn't choose his own words wisely.

We swept into the room, having to duck under the doorframe to fit inside. The Flame Emperor was utterly stunned behind her mask, the Sages seemed furious at our arrival, and Caiaphas was grinning like he had won.

"Κατάκτηση," Thales greeted coldly.

"As the Agastya wills it, so it shall be," we stated, towering over the standing Agarthan. The one who had summoned us to defend him in his trial. The one who would very soon regret that exact decision. "Caiaphas is an imbecile and a fool. Aγωνία is not to be trusted."

The Happy Mask Salesman turned to me, a hint of fear locked behind his unwavering smile. I made sure to commit that sight to memory. It reminded me of his lack of omniscience.

"A war with Seiros and her armies as they stand would only weaken Agartha unnecessarily," we snarled in the ancient tongue, mine and Katáktisi's voices snapping in and out of harmony in a disjointed, grating grace. "Better for the plan to go forward, for she who bears the Crest of Flames–" Edelgard, surely– "to inherit Ηγεμονία. Only after power is upended and the Flame Emperor has served her purpose should the Crestwraiths be deployed, to purge what resistance and Nabateans remain on the continent."

I could feel the waves of hatred rolling off of the condemned Agarthan. "You–"

"Be silent," Thales commanded. "The punishment is obvious. As the Agastya, I motion that Caiaphas be charged a traitor and put to death, and Aγωνία return to the sarcophagus from whence it was stolen. Opposed?"

"When there is power, there is only one thing to do with it," 'Cornelia' insisted. "Use it. We have but one chance to dethrone Seiros and her ilk. Throwing away a weapon designed to kill their kind because it is potentially destructive is not a cost we can afford!"

"I must agree with Cleobulus, at least in part," Pittacus admitted. "It seems foolish to condemn a man whose only crime was attempting to destroy our enemies. Punish, perhaps, but I do not believe that death befits his actions."

Silence.

"In favor?" Thales continued.

"Ναί," stated Chilon simply, who hadn't said anything this whole time up to this point. Maybe he simply didn't know the modern tongue.

"Your will is mine," Myson boasted.

"I do not believe that the Σιγίλφάσματα are necessary," Bias admitted. "They should remain as a last resort, which is how we have planned to use them up to this point."

Thales' expression did not change, but I could tell he knew he had won. "Then it is done. Flame Emperor, I will permit you to–"

The Happy Mask Salesman reiterated the Word. "We will be saved from your impotence! Tear out their cores, and usher a new dawn upon Fódlan!"

We were powerless to resist. The double helix blade formed in our hand. We could not kill the Sages– our programming prevented us from killing anyone born of Agartha even with explicit orders, unless they came from the Agastya himself– but we could certainly weaken them enough to allow Caiaphas to–

"Διακόπτω!" Thales spat, and immediately we were ourself again. With a shuddering breath as though we had been submerged in water for minutes on end, we dispelled our blade and wheeled on Caiaphas.

"Your dependence upon mortals shall be your downfall!" Caiaphas screamed in the ancient tongue. "Agartha's hubris shall be our doom! Know this truth– the Crestwraiths shall be Fódlan's salvation!"

And with that, he backpedaled out of the room and disappeared in a flash of violet light. There was silence for a long moment. Then another.

"Flame Emperor– your presence is no longer required," Thales barked.

"As you wish," the empress acquiesced while trying to hide the shakiness in her voice, stalking past us and through the door. Her footsteps did not fade away. The Agastya turned to me.

"Why are you here, Κατάκτηση?" he demanded.

"Yes," Myson parroted. "With Solon and Kronya dead, we require your eyes in the den of the beasts." That implied that there weren't any more Agarthans active in Garreg Mach. Good to know.

"Caiaphas seemed to be under the impression that we would take his side at this trial, that we would call for war with Seiros and her livestock. My current host and he had had a business relationship before he obtained Μιζέρια. It was further cemented by my particular design. He thought that we may have swayed the Sagemoot."

"Are you not that embodiment of war, violence, and bloodlust?" Pittacus said suspiciously in that lilting way of hers. "If Aγωνία and Φρίκη were able to be swayed– to have broken free of their programming and abscond from Agartha itself– why not you?"

We blinked slowly. "Aγωνία and Φρίκη have done… what?"

"Both Crestwraiths of which you speak abandoned the Agastya, and swore allegiance to Caiaphas months ago." We knew about that, of course. It was the other part of Pittacus' declaration that had caught us off-guard. "They were able to slay the assassin Dolofonos when he attempted to apprehend them." They were able to do what we were not?! The Salesman had just gotten a lot more dangerous than he already was.

"I had no knowledge of this," we admitted. "Permit me to clarify– I have no intentions of following those traitors. Our loyalties are to Agartha, and Agartha alone."

"You speak with such confidence, Κατάκτηση," Myson snarled. "Must we use the Third Axiom to seize the truth?"

"Caiaphas ordered me to speak my truth during the Sagemoot," we shot back. "Crestwraiths are true to our names. Aγωνία and Φρίκη are the rotting flesh of the world's most shameful fears. They are not constrained by precepts of loyalty. But I am Κατάκτηση. And what am I without ideology?

"You doubt my loyalty? After a thousand years of clawing for a way back to Fodra with Μιζέρια?" We turned our attention to Thales. "Thales– I ask this of you. My programming may be overridden. With an explicit command from the Agastya himself, I may slay that fetid wreck." Anticipation built in our throat– Link's throat, my throat, not ours– as I realized what Katáktisi was angling for. Should Thales accept, and grant us the power to kill Agarthans, it would supersede any other command until Caiaphas was slain. And we could kill them all as I saw fit– excluding the Agastya, of course, but all I needed was to have someone else administer the coup de grace. Like Byleth, or Dimitri, or Seteth, or something like that.

His eyes narrowed. "Very well. I will permit this hunt." We froze despite ourself, hanging onto Thales' every word. "Henceforth, I grant you supreme authority over the life of Caiaphas. You will stop his treachery, and bring me his core. Any Crestwraith that may oppose you shall also be destroyed, should they attempt to obstruct my judgement."

I wanted to sigh. He had foreseen that loophole, and instead only granted me the ability to kill the Happy Mask Salesman or Aγωνία. Still– that was progress. Our mouth curled upward infinitesimally. "As the Agastya wills it, so it shall be." We pressed our left hand to our right breast. Caiaphas's time would come. It would come sooner than he thought.

"Sages– I fear we must depart from this place," Thales announced. "Solon's death at the hands of the Fell Star has accelerated our plans. Κατάκτηση– you will remain in Seiros's maw."

"Ας σηκώσουμε την κόλαση," Chilon stated, his second verbal contribution of the whole Sagemoot. And, in several bursts of purple light, the room was empty. Save for us.

Katáktisi slunk back into the corner of my mind, and we became I once again. I was still in the form of the Fierce Deity, but it was I, Link Harkinian, who was in full control.

I stepped out of the room in which a Sagemoot had taken place, ducking underneath the small door and nearly bowling over the Flame Emperor as I left, who was very clearly dropping several boatloads of eaves. Perhaps I should have chosen my words more carefully. Eh, whatever. This was more fun.

"Just who are you?" the Flame Emperor demanded with a cold malice that was juxtaposed with her closed posture. She must have been claustrophobic. Even if she was the most intimidating figure imaginable, I was not to be cowed so easily. I was fairly certain I clocked pretty high on that index, actually.

"Who am I?" I reiterated. Best to keep the Flame Emperor at arm's length. If she obeyed Thales, she was an enemy. I permitted Katáktisi to select my words. "I am zealotry and apathy. I taught all who draw breath all that they know. And when I am razed, I am born anew. I wonder– who do you think I am?"

"A riddle?" She seemed to entertain the thought. "You claim to be conviction. Conviction may be born of feeling or of calculation. It is the strength of one's ideals, noble or corrupt. And a destroyed conviction is fertile grounds for a stronger one to take root and grow."

I chuckled, a low and rumbling sound that I knew resonated in her bones. "An interesting answer, and not so far from the truth. Although I imagine your answer says more about yourself than it does of me. You may call me Conquest."

"Conquest… You serve Arundel, do you not?"

Ah. She did not know Thales' true name, or perhaps she did not trust me enough to use his real one. Duly noted. "I serve the man who bears his flesh." The hallway was silent save the dripping of what I hoped was just condensation.

"Why did you come here?"

"I was summoned by Caiaphas, the man who was tried and found guilty." My lips curled. "I could ask the same of you, Emp–"

"And who, exactly," the so-called Flame Emperor continued, cutting me off oh-so-rudely, "is this 'Caiaphas'?"

"A researcher of their kind. Much like Solon, worms take him." I couldn't help but pack a bit of vitriol into my speech, towards the man that had controlled my movements so many times. A vision of Dimitri's head being impaled with an arrow such that he resembled a bloody unicorn flashed across my mind. "He wished to use the Σιγίλφάσματα to crush the Immaculate One and her brethren in a face-to-face war, trampling their devotees in the process."

"And the… Sigil–"

"You have asked enough questions," I interjected. "Why did you come here?"

"I have no illusions as to why I was invited to this spectacle," the masked woman stated. "It was a threat. Should one of their own not be safe from punishment for transgression, why would I be spared for mine, should I commit them? 'Arundel' and his cabal are the most vile of creatures, responsible for such gruesome deeds in Remire, Duscur, and Enbarr– but they are necessary for my own goals, and I am necessary for theirs." Truth dripped from her words.

I tilted my head back, appraising the disguised Edelgard anew. She was either monumentally brave, incredibly calculating, or mind-numbingly stupid, or some mixture of the three. "I will admit, Flame Emperor– you are less of an easily-led fool than I had initially permitted myself to believe. Your hatred of them is… dreadfully refreshing."

"You speak as though your own ambitions are not so far removed from mine," the Flame Emperor said, starting to walk down the corridor. I kept up as best I could, but my longer stride meant that I was carried further than she was down the long, dank hallway, and I had to slow down to compensate.

"I would not say that." I had only initially sided with Agartha out of a lack of information and a mild distrust of the Church. It took Remire to alert me and Katáktisi to their true nature. If Edelgard had known that they were behind all of this and took their aid anyways… that was unpalatable in the extreme. I would have to know what had driven her to see all those misfortunes, all those crimes against humanity, and still want to side with them. "You fight for them because it is your choice. I fight for them because I have no choice. It is hardwired into my very being."

"You are one of them, are you not?"

"That is as though I looked upon you and said that since you swing your axe, it is a human."

"You are choosing to speak with me right now. You are expressing dissent towards their cause," Edelgard countered.

"I have my own will and ideals, that is true. But I may not take up arms against them, and when they issue orders I do not choose to obey. In the same way that the sword does not choose to cut."

She was silent. "Then why are you accompanying me, Conquest?"

"What is conquest without belief?" I asked rhetorically. "I would know yours."

"I will create a world where birthright– the Crests, the Relics, the concept of nobility itself– will be meaningless," she replied immediately. "A world ruled by merit, where those who are shackled by the goddess and their station may at long last have power in their hands. The Church chokes Fódlan, and it must be purged. When that is done, those who slither in the dark will find that their time is over. It will be the common people who have long been overlooked who will be lifted up, given the strength that has been denied to them."

"Curious," we admitted. "I would not be opposed to such a world myself." The Church not being a political power, Agartha destroyed, and Edelgard in charge… it was certainly a thought. Still, I had my apprehensions. What would happen to people like Mercedes, though, whom the Church had genuinely helped? What would happen to Seteth, who only supported the Church because he had lived through the War of Heroes and saw the Church as the lesser evil? What of those who would still end up on the bottom, who would still be imprisoned by circumstances out of their control? Would provisions be made for them? Or would they be cast aside by those with the opportunity and resources to capitalize on Edelgard's new world?

"You could join me." I paused in our steps, the distant light of the surface world nearing on the stones. "Your strength… it could be a valuable asset in the times to come. Show the world your true ideals, and we could ensure that Arundel and his ilk would never again be a threat." She wished to see my true face. How bold.

"I suppose we all wear our masks, Flame Emperor. I will take off my mask if, and only if… you take off yours." It was an empty threat– I already knew her identity. It was an exercise in trust, in rebellion against Thales. It was a test, to see just how far down the rabbit hole she had already fallen.

"I cannot abide," the Flame Emperor stated, resolute as steel. "My identity must remain secret. I cannot divulge it to anyone at present, no matter how close they are to my 'allies'."

It was time to play my hand. "Of course, Empress Edelgard."

I could see her hands tighten beneath her gloves. "What?"

"It was obvious. The Flame Emperor had only previously appeared at Garreg Mach Monastery, and yet the very moment you come to Enbarr, the Flame Emperor does as well?"

She turned back to me, expression implacable behind her ceramic veneer. "You will say nothing of this, or I will–"

"You speak with such fire, but I am not your weapon to wield," I snapped. "Still, you intrigue me. I will do as you ask… provided you make one promise to me." When Edelgard did not respond, I continued. "The time will come when your 'uncle' will give you a weapon. As long as he draws breath– you will not use it." After a long pause, she nodded. Beneath her layers of heavy armor, I couldn't tell if she was lying to our face. "Good. I may be inclined to reconsider my previous answer– should you turn your back on 'those who slither in the dark'. Should you refuse to play their game. Should you refuse to suffer their allegiance.

"Because, so long as you consort with them, you shall be culpable for our crimes."

With a flick of my wrist, I cast Farore's Wind, returning to the warp point I had set atop the Goddess Tower, abandoning Edelgard in the depths of her own dungeon. It was somehow nighttime. I quickly took off the Fierce Deity's Mask and reverted back to the form of a child, a child that had died long ago and been replaced with something that was not quite adult, but wasn't not adult either. I quickly lifted the hatch and began to descend–

"Wh-who's there?"

I froze. I was asking the same question.

"..."

There, at the foot of the Tower, stood a Lysithea that was paler than a ghost. Most curious. She must have seen the flash of me taking Farore's Wind. Good eye, considering she was all the way on ground level and I had set the warp point at the very top of the tower, at the apex of the world. Come to think of it, why was she out this late? I'd never seen her at this time of night. Usually Garreg Mach was a ghost town past one in the morning.

"Is this a joke? Come out! You're not being funny, Claude!"

I couldn't risk her telling anyone that I had been in the Goddess Tower. It would raise questions. Fortunately, that was a job that a bit of subterfuge with the Stone Mask could solve very easily. I strolled out behind her, the white-haired mage being none the wiser.

"You would do well," I whispered in her ear and backing up when she whirled, "to believe that this is a dream."

"Who said that?!" Her gaze was frantic. "You're a– a– a ghost!" And with that, she was flying down the sidewalk deceptively quickly. That had turned out even better than I had expected.

In my bedroom, I made haste to take off the invisibility mask. Without skipping a beat, I flopped onto my bed and fell asleep despite having slumbered yesterday. I, after all, had quite a lot to think about, and I was not in a state to do any of that now.


That feels like a good stopping point. Next up will be the Holy Tomb! A cookie to whoever can guess what Annette is singing to the tune of.

Review please!

Pet Peeved (FF): Yeah, fair enough. Still, very interesting!

Atomic_Ben (AO3): Actually, I had sort of envisioned Katáktisi as an equippable item as opposed to its own unit– it would multiply the wearer's stats by ~3x but reduce their growths by 50 percentage points, so the more you use it, the more you depend on it and the weaker you become in the long term. Maybe if the wearer possesses the corresponding Crest, that reduction is only, say, 25 percentage points instead. I can promise, however, that you'll get some more stats once the post-timeskip starts.

CuddlyManaki (AO3): How did you figure out my creative process?!

Equilized Enigma (FF): It'll happen, just not right now.

NaoBea (FF): Really, Remire was Katáktisi's wakeup call. It's just that it's even more powerless than Link is to resist the Axioms. If you know 'the silent place' from the movie Get Out, being subjugated by the Axioms is a lot like that. You can see that Link is able to delay putting on the mask until Solon is attacked directly, which invokes the more powerful Second Axiom. Because the Fierce Deity is closer to Katáktisi in its purest form, it's completely unable to resist.

FlameMail (AO3): And it's going to keep catching up, unfortunately.

Tribolium_Morio (AO3): That's fair. I think there's room for a lot more interpretation and nuance in the second war you mentioned. It talks about how Sothis overturned the old gods, so maybe there was some kind of Nabatean colonialism going on? Obviously that's no excuse for nearly destroying the world and I don't intend to whitewash their gruesome history, but I think giving the Agarthans more flavor is more interesting than the alternative of them all just being mustache-twirling saturday-morning-cartoon villains. Glad you're enjoying the story!

User_Named_Don (AO3): I had to give him some weaknesses. I picked Lances because OOT Link has experience with swords and the Megaton Hammer, but never spears and the like, and I picked Flying because I wanted to have two and there weren't really any other good options that fit the role I wanted him to fill in an army. As I think I've said before, I typically draw from the gameplay of OOT/MM as opposed to the story, and the gameplay is very bare-bones and, well, easy. Link is absolutely skilled and everything you've said is true; I mostly used the sentence you pointed out as an example of the cultural and combat divides between Hyrule and Fódlan.

Aemon_Targaryen (AO3): I said I wasn't going to continue the argument, and I'll stand by that. I do have plans to elaborate more on Rhea as the story goes and have her feed into the primary theme of Cobalt Crescent. Hope that helps, and thank you for reviewing.

DarthFlores (AO3): And now I've made things worse. Thanks for commenting!