"Yah! Rrah!"

The sound of wood clanking against wood echoed across the garden. Two individuals were locked in mock combat, one a young girl and the other a middle-aged man.

"There!"

"Whoa!"

A solid blow to the chest. The younger of the two barely managed to block the strike in time before the practice sword flew out of her hands.

The older of the two let out a soft chuckle. "And that, as your father would say, is checkmate."

Panting heavily, the younger girl wept the sweat from her eyebrow. "Still not good enough."

"Don't be so quick to judge yourself." In contrast to the younger girl, the older man looked like he didn't even break a sweat. "Your swordsmanship is definitely improving. Considering how recently you decided to take training seriously, it's impressive how far you've come in a relatively short span of time. You have your father's knack for picking things up quickly, through and through." He retrieved the wooden sword the girl had dropped. "You have the basics down; all you need is guidance so you can refine your technique."

"Which is something that I don't have."

The older man frowned.

Upon realizing what she had just blurted out, the younger girl shook her head and stammered, "I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean it like that!"

"No, it's fine," the older man replied understandingly. "There's a limit to how much I can show you anyways. Your mother and I may use the same fighting style, but she made several small adjustments to make it more suited for females."

She nodded. "I know. That's why she and Big Sister Lucy have a different stance."

"That's right. Men and women have different body structures, so it makes sense for each of them to have different strengths and weaknesses. Men have the edge in upper body strength, which is why I stand more upright. Meanwhile, women have the advantage in lower body finesse, which is why both Lucinas hunch closer to the ground while keeping their feet farther apart. Wider hips makes it easier to absorb pushback and move to the side; at least, that's what your mother said."

"I know what to do; I'm just having trouble figuring out the how…" The girl pursed her lips. "What is it that I'm lacking? What can I do to be more like…"

The older male rested his hand on her shoulder. "You shouldn't have to be. You are your own person; don't waste your time striving to be someone else."

"But…"

The older man sat down beside her and motioned for her to do the same. "How should I explain this… When I see you fight, it's almost as if you're trying your hardest to imitate your mother. I won't tell you that you shouldn't do that; in fact, from the moment my Lucina picked up a sword, she always wanted to grow into a woman like your mother. However, you must realize that building yourself off of that single image can limit your potential growth as a fighter."

"Are you saying I should just forget Mother's fighting style?"

He shook his head. "I'm not saying that at all. Like I mentioned earlier, it's clear you understand the basics, so don't forget those. But as of right now? I hate to sound brutally honest, but your current skill set is at the bare minimum required to survive a few minutes on a battlefield. Relying on the basics alone will only leave you underprepared for actual combat."

"Then what should I do? Tell me, Uncle Chrom!"

"I would recommend trying to find something that can help to bridge the gap between your preferred fighting style and your strengths as a fighter. You and Lucina, though referring to the same sword style, are two completely different individuals. Lucina may have an edge when it comes to brute force, but you're smarter and possibly even more nimble. If you're having trouble figuring out how to play to your own strengths, instead of trying to imagine something from the past, perhaps you could take inspiration from elsewhere?"

"Elsewhere…" The girl let her honorary uncle's words sink in for a moment. "Maybe you're right," she finally admitted. "I know for a fact that there's no way I'll be able to beat Big Sister Lucy at her own game. I'll just have to find something else to fill in the gaps and create my own original style!"

Chrom chuckled. "That's the spirit, Morgan."

Off to the side, a large, brown-haired man wearing blue-and-gold armor motioned for him to come over. Nodding, Chrom turned back to Morgan. "How about we make this your homework for this week?"

"O-Okay." Morgan stood up and bowed. "Thank you for taking time out of your schedule to help me train, Uncle Chrom."

He smiled in response. "For my friend's daughter? Anything. Perhaps next time, would you like me to invite Lucina?"

Morgan laughed nervously. "If she wants…"

'Something to take inspiration from? If I can't look back on the past…then I'll just have to look for something to do in the present.'

"Whoa…!" "Simply spectacular." "This looks...more than edible."

The students' comments were more than justified. Placed before each of them was a plate of delicious-looking bacon and sunny side up eggs paired with two pieces of toast. Though the contents looked like nothing special, such a platter was a rare sight in the Class VII dormitory.

"I must apologize," said Sharon. "It's taken me some time to familiarize myself with this kitchen, so my cooking has been a bit lackluster."

"Come now, Sharon," Laura responded with a kind smile. "Your skill is something to be praised. This is far more colorful and varied than the breakfast served in my own home."

Jusis nodded in agreement. "I would compare this spread favorably with the breakfast served in the duke's household."

Sharon giggled. "Considering Bareahard's culinary fame, Master Jusis, I'm honored that you think so." She then brought two hot kettles over to the table. "I've also brewed both tea and coffee, if anyone would like some."

Machias raised his hand. "Some coffee would be great."

While Sharon went over to pour some coffee into Machias's cup, her immediate master looked less than enthused.

"Are you...not impressed with the meal, Alisa?" Emma asked.

"I'm sure all of you are happy with her," Alisa replied, "but I object to everything about this. Considering how busy Mother is, I'm sure she needs your assistance far more than we do."

"Heehee. I knew it." Sharon smiled as she set her coffee pot down on the table. "You're really concerned about her, aren't you?"

"Th-That's not-"

"The way you two care so much for each other deep down is one of the reasons I'm so proud to serve you." The Reinford maid then clapped her hands. "But before we get too ahead of ourselves, my lady, I almost forgot to mention that I made plenty of your favorite apricot jam! Would you like me to spread some on your toast?"

Any evidence of disgruntlement that had been present on Alisa's face promptly vanished in a heartbeat. "Oooh, really?!"

As soon as she let her childlike glee show, Alisa was met with a wide range of stares, ranging from playful to suspicious. Immediately realizing herself, Alisa cleared her throat to recompose herself, but she could do little to hide the blush on her face. "S-Stop treating me like a child, Sharon! Though yes, I would like some jam."

Fie smirked as Sharon went to grab some jam. "Sounds like someone's got your number."

"A-Anyways…" Alisa turned to the person sitting next to her. "You never finished explaining what happened after you found your friend, Morgan."

The girl in question was busy digging into her food, so she held up a finger to tell everyone to wait.

"You mentioned that your friend's a wandering bard, right?" Elliot queried. "I wish I could see him someday."

Morgan swallowed her food and rinsed it down with coffee. "Well, he WAS one. Lately, he's been busy with so many other things that he hasn't had the time to travel a whole lot. This was basically a one-time excursion."

"What sort of things does he do?" asked Gaius. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Well…" Morgan crossed her arms and looked up. "Education," she finally answered. "He's the music instructor at St. Astraia's."

"Interesting…" Rean commented. "You know, my sister also goes to St. Astraia's. Maybe I should write her a letter…"

"Hm?" Laura cupped her chin in thought. "But if I recall correctly, the music instructor at St. Astraia Girls' School is none other than…"

"Anyways…" Morgan hastily interrupted. "After he finished his impromptu concert, a local family invited him over for tea. One thing led to another, and I ended up joining him. I stuck around until the beginning of the festival, then I came back by airship and train."

"It sounds like you had quite the eventful excursion," Jusis remarked.

Morgan laughed nervously. "Yeah, 'eventful' doesn't even begin to describe it…"

"WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING, YOUR HIGHNESS?!"

Those who heard Morgan's comment started to talk amongst themselves. "Did she say 'Your Highness'?" "There's no way, can it?" "Now that I think about, I think I've seen that man somewhere before…"

The blonde musician sighed. "I suppose my jig, as they say, is up." He proceeded to take off his sunglasses and gave the crowd an award-winning smile. "Yes, 'tis I! Olivert Reise Arnor! I take it you all enjoyed my impromptu performance?"

Immediately, all of the people gathered sans Morgan started to lower their heads in respect.

"Please, raise your heads, everyone!" the prince insisted. "In fact, I should be the one apologizing for distracting you from preparing for the festival. I only wished to view the authentic sights of Ordis for myself while I still had the time, though I suppose this means I've lived up to my unfortunate title of the Debaucherous Prince."

That drew a laugh from the crowd.

"As of right now, I am no different from the rest of you, so please continue treating me as you would each other." He put a finger to his mouth. "But might I ask that you keep this a secret from everyone else? We wouldn't want my grand entrance at tonight's opening ceremony to be spoiled, would we?

In just a few moments, Olivert put the crowd at ease, dispelling all pretenses of being royalty and adopting a welcoming atmosphere with a few choice words.

"And with that…" Olivert took a moment to bow. "I believe I must bid you all farewell for now. But do not fret! We will see each other again in the evening. Until then, carry on as you will. Have a wonderful rest of the afternoon!"

Morgan took this moment to approach him. "Your Highness, I'm sorry for-"

"We can discuss this later," he said. "If you go further in, you will come across a large house. Go there and tell the maid that I will come to visit her master in precisely three minutes. I will try to lose this crowd in the meantime."

"But-"

He rested his hand on her shoulder and whispered, "I'm counting on you!"

With that, the prince put his sunglasses back on, returned his lute to its case, and went on his merry way. The crowd dispersed to let him pass, though a few people left to follow him.

"I guess I can't turn down a request from him…" Morgan muttered.

She turned a right to make her way further inland. The layout of North Street was structured in the shape of a quarter circle with an orbal factory stationed in the middle, ensuring that there was always a path connecting to the main road that linked the harbor area from the business district. Going deeper into the residential area past some steps led Morgan to a building that looked like an apartment complex on the outside, but seeing as there weren't any other visible houses in the surrounding vicinity, she surmised that this was the place Olivert was talking about.

Taking a small breath to compose herself, Morgan walked up to the front door and knocked three times.

A few moments later, the door opened to reveal a young woman in a dark violet maid uniform. She had dark teal hair and similarly colored eyes. "Good day. Can I help you?"

"Um, hello." Morgan bowed her head slightly. "I've been sent by someone to tell you that he will be visiting in approximately three minutes."

"And might I ask who it is that has business with the count?"

'A count lives here?' After looking behind her to make sure no one was watching, Morgan leaned forward and whispered, "Prince Olivert."

The maid widened her eyes. "Could you please wait one moment?"

Morgan nodded, after which the maid closed the door. A minute or so passed with the sounds of indistinct chatter coming from the house before the door opened again.

"Please come inside," the young maid said, lowering her posture. "Make yourself at home."

"Are you sure?" Morgan asked hesitantly. "I'm only here to pass along a message."

"It is the will of both my master and mistress," she insisted.

"Okay, then…" Morgan took a moment to straighten her uniform. "I guess I'll be on my best behavior until His Highness comes back. Pardon the intrusion."

To Morgan's surprise, the residence was far larger and more lavish on the inside in comparison to the rather modest appearance on the outside. The building was comprised of two stories with doors that presumably led to other rooms and there were multiple paintings and orbal lamps that decorated the walls. To the far right side of the room was a lounge area comprised of a rectangular coffee table surrounded on all sides by two chairs and two couches.

Standing by the lounge in front of the windows was an elderly couple, both dressed in a manner that denoted a position of high status. The man had a neatly-groomed mustache and had his neck-length gray hair tied into a ponytail. He was also dressed in a yellow-colored suit and tied a yellow scarf around his neck. The woman following him looked to be of a similar age and had her gray hair tied into a bun. She was outfitted in a long purple dress and had a light blue stole draped over her shoulders.

"Welcome to our home," the older man called out. "I am Theodore Egret, appointed the title of count by His Excellency, Emperor Eugent Reise Arnor III." He then extended a hand to present the woman next to him, who proceeded to bow silently. "And this is my wife, Suzanne Egret."

Following the maid's example, Morgan put her hands over her waist and bowed respectfully. "It is a pleasure to meet you both. My name is Morgan Daraen, and I have been sent here on behalf of His Highness, Prince Olivert Reise Arnor."

"The pleasure is ours," Count Egret responded. "But please, raise your head. Though our ranks are different, we are not so much as people. I am sure His Highness would say the same thing."

Morgan smiled as she eased her posture. "On that, we cannot agree more."

Both the count and countess invited Morgan to sit down in the lounge area. The maid immediately went to work, bringing over a plate of crackers and pouring tea for all the individuals gathered.

"Judging from your uniform, I take it that you attend Thors?" Lady Suzanne asked.

Morgan nodded. "I do. I'm a part of the newly established Class VII."

"Class VII…" Count Egret stroked his chin. "I had heard about it in passing. The first class in Thors history to combine both nobles and commoners into a single group. I would assume that this, too, is another one of the projects His Highness has been working on."

Morgan raised her hand. "If I may ask, how exactly do you know the prince?"

The elderly count chuckled. "I would argue that there's hardly a soul in Erebonia that DOESN'T know about the prince, but I digress. As for why we are acquainted with each other, I believe it would be best to have him explain for himself." He looked to a clock that was hanging on the wall. "I believe three minutes should be up by now…"

As if on cue, three knocks came from the front door.

"If you'll excuse me." The maid bowed dutifully before walking over to the door. Upon opening it, she bowed once more. "Good day, Your Highness. We have been expecting you."

"You look as well as ever, Setsuna," the prince's voice remarked. "I take it my messenger is already here?"

"Yes. She arrived not too long ago."

As Setsuna the maid stepped out of the way, the guest of honor took off his sunglasses and put them in his coat pocket. Count Egret and Lady Suzanne stood up from their seats and bowed.

"It has been far too long, Your Highness," Count Egret addressed the prince.

"It truly has." Olivert also lowered his posture in response. "We haven't met in person since my return to Erebonia last year. Dare I say, the two of you continue to look well for being in retirement."

Lady Suzanne chuckled. "It would appear that the year in-between hasn't dulled your silver tongue one bit."

"Haha. Flattery goes two ways." He then turned his attention to Morgan. "And Morgan! We haven't seen each other since you left for the academy. Are you enjoying your new school life?"

"Can't complain." Morgan stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "Right, now how about you start explaining yourself? Don't you have an event to plan?"

Both count and countess stared at her in mild shock. "Young lady…"

"It's quite alright, Theodore," Olivert said, putting his hand up. "It is understandable that she would be confused, seeing as I roped her into this at the last possible minute."

"Actually, I've more or less grown used to it by now."

"To answer your question, Morgan…" Olivert continued. "I WAS in the middle of preparing for tonight's opening ceremony. However, I had already set aside some time to meet with the count beforehand. You see, Count Egret served as the advisor for the previous Duke Cayenne; some of the policies that brought Ordis its current prosperity can be traced back to him."

"You stretch things far too much, Your Highness," Count Egret commented modestly.

"I only state the facts," the prince countered. "Since the count retired, he has offered advice to many leaders in the empire. I myself have sought his counsel on more than one occasion, and now I am currently here to do just that. And since the topic at hand has a great deal with Class VII's field studies…" Olivert paused briefly to make sure that Morgan was hooked. "I figured that it if I were ever to run into you, it would be best if you joined in as well."

Morgan pursed her lips. "I'm honored that you would allow me to listen in on your discussion, but it's just…" She rested her index finger near her chin. "Something about the timing of all this feels a bit too...perfect, doesn't it? Even by your standards."

Olivert hummed to himself. "I suppose it does… Well, no matter. You're here now, and it would be beneath me to ask you to leave now." He turned to the masters of the residence. "I trust that neither of you have any objections to this?"

Count Egret shook his head. "Not at all. In fact…" He turned to look at Morgan. "The more we talk, the more I can't help but feel that Mildine would have enjoyed your company."

"Mildine?"

"Our granddaughter," Lady Suzanne answered. "She just entered her first year of junior high school at St. Astraia Girls' School. Unfortunately, due to...various circumstances, she isn't at home all that often, so she is rarely able to meet people around her age outside of school. She couldn't attend this year's summer festival as well…"

Morgan took note of the crestfallen expressions that appeared on everyone who belonged the Egret residence, from Lady Suzanne to Count Egret to even Setsuna the maid. Perhaps it was best to not breach the subject further.

Prince Olivert seemed to have detected the uneasiness in the air as well, so he cleared his throat loudly. "In any case, let us save any talk about your granddaughter for some other time. Theodore, if you would provide us some context…"

Count Egret nodded. "Of course, Your Highness."

"...Say, Morgan."

Morgan looked to Rean. "Yeah?"

"You mentioned that you ran into that baron we met in Bareahard. What was he doing there?"

She shuddered as she remembered her encounter with Bleublanc. "He was just...enjoying the sights."

"He sounds like a creep, if you ask me," Alisa remarked. "He didn't...do anything weird to you, did he?"

Morgan shook her head. "No, he didn't. He did say some cryptic stuff, though. Something about giving his regards to the Severing Chains? I don't know what that could mean."

Off to the side, Sharon caught note of the conversation and chuckled. "Whatever could that mean, indeed…"

Alisa eyed her family's servant suspiciously. "Sharon?"

"Oh, never you mind, my lady," the maid quickly responded. "If I were to offer my opinion, however, this baron friend must have been referring to something in the metaphorical sense. It wouldn't do him any good if he gave his greetings to any sort of chains."

Morgan was impressed by the maid's deduction. "That's a good point. I figured that was probably the case." She sipped her coffee. 'That's what he said too…'

After their lengthy discussion came to an end, Morgan and the prince bid the Egret residence farewell.

"You might want to be careful on how close you get to me," she advised him. "You're a full-grown man, and I'm dressed like a student. We wouldn't want to cause any scandals on both fronts."

He chuckled in response. "People only see what they expect to see. In this moment, I am the wandering minstrel, Olivier Lenheim, come to enjoy a brief respite with an old companion. I'm sure that the people here wouldn't mind." He looked at her in the eyes. "It's rather late to be saying this, but happy belated birthday, Morgan."

"Thank you, Your-" She stopped to correct herself. "No. Thank you, Olivier."

The two of them walked past the steps leading to the Egret residence and found a bench to sit on.

"Onto more pressing matters…" Olivier sighed. "What did you think of our discussion?"

Morgan grimaced. "I'm going to be honest, it's a lot to comprehend all at once, but given what I've seen on our field studies, it makes sense. Duke Albarea raising taxes in Celdic, using the money as funds to renovate Aurochs Fort, and arresting a family member of the rival faction to use as a bargaining chip. They're all incredibly selfish moves in the short run, but in the long run…"

"I had heard rumors within the Intelligence Division that the the two highest-ranking nobles in the Four Great Houses were secretly meeting with each other," Olivie chimed in. "In fact, that is part of the reason why I decided to pay a visit to Ordis: to see if there was anything out of the ordinary. Needless to say, I think I received a little more than I bargained for."

"You and me both." Morgan clasped her hands together. "You know, a friend of mine theorized that Jusis's father wanted to keep his plans protected, but that begged the question of who he wanted to protect his plans from and why. Now that we know from the count that Duke Cayenne has been spending a lot of time visiting the heads of other estates, I think it's safe to say that they're all preparing for something big. But what? And how will they do it?"

"A perplexing matter, indeed," the prince mused. "I suppose the silver lining in all of this is that they won't be doing anything drastic anytime soon. The Albarea household is currently under heavy surveillance for their activities in the past two months, but that only serves to drive the two factions further apart from each other."

"And that's where we come in, right?" Morgan said. "Show the rest of the world a 'third way' where both commoners and nobles can work together?"

"Precisely. And once you and the rest of Class VII graduate, you will be able to go forth and become the foundation of the world." He put his hand to his lips and spread it like he was blowing a kiss. "Mwa! Like poetry on parchment."

Morgan laughed. "If only things were that simple…"

"Perhaps it won't be, but I'd rather place cautious hope in a peaceful future than not do anything at all, especially not when we have the means to make a difference. My time abroad has taught me that multiple times."

"I wish I could meet these friends of yours someday. They all seem like interesting people."

"Liberl isn't as far away as you might think," Olivier mused. "I'm sure that with your current academic standing, you wouldn't have any issues with transferring over to Jenis Royal Academy in Ruan."

Morgan shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe I'll consider it later down the line. But right now, Class VII comes first."

This prince's smile lessened somewhat, which Morgan took note of. "What?" she asked him.

"Truthfully, I had hoped that whatever spurred you to take a spontaneous trip influenced you somewhat," he admitted. "However, it seems you're still the same in certain aspects."

Morgan looked at him, perplexed.

"I have said this before, but if you have any other aspirations, I would encourage you to pursue them while you still can," Olivier advised her. "The road ahead is one filled with risks and tribulations; I don't want you to feel that we pushed you into this position."

Morgan only shook her head. "I don't feel that way at all. You don't need to worry about me." She put a hand to her chest. "My loyalty lies with the royal family. This is something I've chosen for myself."

A chuckle left the prince's lips. "Truly, we're grateful for that. However, I feel the need to remind you that you aren't legally bound to serve us like the Vander family. You must not forget about the other promise that we made."

"I know," she assured him. "I haven't stopped searching for myself. In fact, I've been making a lot more progress now than I did back then."

"If that is how you feel, then I shall respect your decision," Olivier conceded. "Then again, seeing as you are technically an adult as of this year, I would have to. With that said, would you care for a celebratory drink before I return to my preparations for tonight?"

"You will be returning now."

Both Morgan and Olivier nearly jumped in their seats. Standing before them was a tall, middle-aged man with short brown hair wearing the purple uniform for the Imperial Army. Despite his build, he had been able to mask his presence effortlessly.

"Mueller!" Morgan raised her hand in greeting. "Long time no see! It's good to see you!"

"The feeling is mutual, Miss Daraen." Mueller allowed himself to smile for a moment as he nodded. "As always, thank you for keeping an eye on His Highness. Now if you will excuse me, I'll be taking things from here."

"Mueller, I can explain." The calm, collected visage of the Erebonian prince started to devolve into a state of panic. "We were merely catching up! And I had already told you that I would be stepping out in the afternoon, didn't I?"

"Indeed you did," Mueller affirmed. "We both know that you set aside time to greet Count Egret. With that said, I thought we agreed to go together."

"But you looked so busy with handling security! I wished to give you a break from watching over me! I did it with good intentions, I assure you!"

"And so you thought it was a good opportunity to go gallivanting on your own? I've been hearing some questionable rumors about a wandering bard that greatly resembles the prince waltzing around the city…"

"That's, er…" He hastily turned to Morgan. "Morgan! I implore you to lend me your aid!"

A beat passed by with no one uttering a word.

"Olivier?"

"Yes?"

Morgan gave him the most earnest smile she could muster. "I wish you the best of luck!"

"Ah, I've truly missed that smile," the prince lamented. "A shame it's being directed at me."

Mueller covered his face with his palm and sighed. "Some things never change, for better or worse. Let's get going."

As the prince and his bodyguard started to leave, Morgan remembered something that she had been meaning to tell them. "Oh, but before you go…" Olivert and Mueller stopped and turned around. "I ran into someone on the way here, and he claimed to know you, Olivier."

"Did he now?" The prince raised an eyebrow. "And who might this lovely fellow be?"

"He called himself your rival in beauty," she responded. "His name is Baron Bleublanc."

Olivier's carefree expression quickly vanished. He shared a cautious glance with Mueller, whose face grew more rigid than usual. "Bleublanc, you say?"

"I'm guessing you know him?"

The prince laughed dryly in response. "Well, not as a baron, at least. Did he leave behind a message?"

"He said that he is a voyeur at the moment and that his grand debut in Erebonia won't be coming for a while. Oh, and he mentioned to 'give his regards to the Severing Chains'."

"Severing...Chains?"

"Your Highness…"

"Yes…" Olivier nodded his head solemnly at Mueller. "It would appear that the Society is on the move again. If this 'Severing Chains' is anything like the Direwolf and the Bewitching Bell in Liberl…"

Morgan tilted her head quizzically.

Olivier turned back to Morgan. "Ah, my apologies. I don't think it's anything you need to be worrying about. If I were to give one piece of advice, however, it would be to be wary of the people you invite to your inner circle."

"And the Severing Chains?"

"Likely a metaphorical title. You focus on matters pertaining to Class VII. We will handle these matters on our end."

"And also…"

"Hm?"

Morgan shook her head. "Never mind. It's nothing."

The prince walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for telling us this, Morgan. We'll see you later this evening."

"Y-Yeah. See you later."

With that, Olivert and Mueller walked away from her.

Morgan sat back down on the bench and stared at the ground. "Should I have told him about that part?"

Perhaps it was for the best that Morgan had opted to keep that part of the conversation to herself. Divulging it to others would only make things even more confusing than they needed to be.

"So this is the gaze of an alien…"

An "alien" generally refers to someone who comes from a foreign country or nation, but when looked at from a grander perspective, it could refer to anyone whose origins lay outside the Zemurian continent.

For Morgan, it was an apt description that took the term to its most logical, perhaps even illogical, extremes.

'Am I really that obvious…?'

"...Morgan?"

Morgan snapped back to the present. "Y-Yeah?"

"I was asking if you were feeling alright," said Laura. "You look unwell."

"Was I really?" Morgan shook her head. "I was just thinking about some things. Like what should I do today now that midterms are over?"

"You know…" Rean held up his index finger. "One of the Student Council requests I received was from George and Angelica. They mentioned to bring you along if you were free."

"Is that so?" Morgan wondered if a certain bandana-wearing upperclassman had anything to do with that. "In that case, hope you don't mind if I tag along for this request. We can even coordinate our plans for the old schoolhouse along the way."

Emma clapped her hands together. "Oh, yes! Please let us know if you plan on exploring the old schoolhouse."

"Yeah. I'd be glad to lend a hand this time."

"Allow me to extend the same offer."

"Guess I'll help out too."

Rean nodded at the other students who went to Bareahard. "Thanks, everyone. Better watch out, though - I might take you up on those offers!"

That aroused some laughter from the other students.

'Well, no use worrying about it now…" Morgan thought as she smiled with her classmates. 'There's no point in looking back, not when I have something to do in the present!'

She pumped her fists to get herself psyched for the day. 'A good tactician has nothing to fear!'

Author's note: And with that, another chapter reaches its end. Apologies if the order of events somewhat confused you, but there were several things I wanted to add that just couldn't fit anywhere else. That was an error on my part, but to compensate, I assure you that the next one won't be as convoluted. Speaking of the next chapter, it probably won't come out for another few weeks, so I wanted to write this chapter before IRL things keep me occupied. I think some of you will be excited to see what I have planned. What things? You'll have to stay tuned to find out! (▼-▼)✧

Also, I want to extend a special thank you to the people who left behind a follow and a review. It's actually rather exciting to see that people are becoming invested enough to write different theories about things like Morgan's parentage. It feels like I've taken another step as a writer!

(Finally, in regards to the chapter that was uploaded and then deleted, I forgot to add an entire section, so I had to go back and find it. Sorry for the confusion! (ﾉ≧ڡ≦) )

Hope to see you again soon, whenever that may be!