Honestly it's been a rollercoaster of emotions the past few days. Started to think that maybe I lost my touch as the words were not flowing as easily as they once were in that last chapter I posted. Guess we'll see how this goes.

So YOU guys tell me! Love it or hate it?

"We need you to stay at Garreg Mach, Ferdinand," Edeleth sat at the end of the bench of a cafeteria table and rubbed her temples vigorously with her fingertips. Her shorter bangs swung to and fro in front of her face while her thin braid lounged casually over her shoulder.

"Five years of silence," Ferdinand did not sit. He paced on the marble floor behind the emperor, his hands were planted firmly on his hips. "Five years, Edelgard. Only rumors and reports of civil unrest within the Alliance and suddenly we hear of a Holy Kingdom assault just within the Alliance's borders?"

"It is highly suspect," Hubert also did not sit, but rather stood dutifully several feet behind her.

Edelgard did not respond. Her eyes were shut tightly as she attempted to drown out either of their voices. Though she had not opted for the traditional Adrestrian Crown, her smaller golden tiara still weighed heavily upon her head.

"You know how she is," Shamir straddled the bench on the opposite side of her. The former knight didn't turn her head to look at anyone in particular. "Once she gets it into her, there's no talking her out of it."

"Oh, Edie," Edelgard felt Dorothea's warm hand on her back. "I really wish you'd rethink this."

Edelgard's hands snapped from her temples into fists, and before she could blink, she had found one of her fists had collided with the heavy wooden table with a loud THUNK. The table shook violently, even if only for a split second.

No one spoke a word.

Even Dorothea's soothing circular rubbing on her back had quickly ceased.

Edelgard immediately regretted her hostile action. These were no mere soldiers of Adrestria, or Brigid Hunters. They were her family. They laughed together, they fought together… they grew up together.

"Ooooh," Edelgard didn't need to shift her gaze to recognize Leonie's melodic sounds. "You guys made her mad."

"Shut up," Caspar did a poor job of keeping his whisper out of Edelgard's earshot. "You want her to yell at us, too?"

They were childish gestures. Playful banter.

However, Edelgard never tired of the duo's exchanges. Somehow even when it seemed the sun might never rise, the pair would always find a way to lighten the darkness that rested on her shoulders.

They all did.

Edelgard cleared her throat and blinked several times, "I-I apologize. That was highly inappropriate of me."

"We're only worried about you, Edie," Dorothea resumed her circular motions against her back.

Edelgard slowly nodded and thought carefully, trying to assure she lowered her tone before she let her words free from her lips, "I know, and for that, my friends, I will always be eternally grateful."

"Then you know we cannot march to Myrddin," Ferdinand did not soften his tone. His disapproval was clear.

"First off," Edelgard spoke slowly as to not let her temper best her yet again, "you are not marching with us. I need the Adrestrian Prime Minister safe and away from harm should I-"

"Don't say it," Shamir unexpectedly interrupted with her sharp words as she snapped her head away from Edelgard.

The Emperor had become accustomed to Shamir's informal method of communication. Not once had the mercenary ever bowed or even so much as lowered her head in Edelgard's presence.

It was refreshing.

She may have ascended her father as Emperor of Adrestria, but she was still Edelgard. It had taken years to get the rest of her comrades to half the amount of formalities they would display whenever she did something so simple as enter a room.

"If there should be no one to lead this war," Edelgard arranged her words in a way so as to not offend Shamir, "I need the Prime Minister safe. Period."

"Then I-"

Edelgard shot her hand into the air to silence Ferdinand before another word could escape, "I'm not finished."

Okay, some formalities of the crown were appealing.

"Yes, this is most likely a trap," Edelgard continued. "The Leicester Alliance is fighting their own civil unrest, just as the empire is."

"No doubt led by those still loyal to you know who," Dorothea muttered under her breath.

"We don't know if the Leicester Alliance has granted passage to the Holy Kingdom," Edelgard ignored her friend's quip. "Or if Dimitri took it upon himself to use Claude's lands to flank us. But a threat is a threat. Do you mean to simply leave Airmid and Hyrm unprotected?"

Still none said a word.

"Do you wish to tell the people of those lands that their empire has abandoned them?" Edelgard continued. It was only then that she realized her tone was rising yet again.

"It would only bolster the unrest in Adrestria," Shamir coolly stated. "An emperor that won't protect her people could cause a massive uprising."

"You could at least let us accompany you," Ferdinand seemed to resign to the fact that his disapproval had been quashed. "If the information is sound, the fight that would ensue could be massive."

"Not you, Ferdinand," Edelgard was tired of repeating her words. "And when Ingrid and Annette return from their informant, we need you to disperse the information they have as you see fit."

"That's why I'm here," Shamir still did not bring her eyes to meet any of her friends.

Edelgard felt a lump in her throat. She knew her next words were not going to go over well with the unpredictable mercenary.

"Yeah!" Caspar's overly enthusiastic cries were unmistakable. "Me and Leonie got your back!"

"And your front, too!" Leonie chimed as she pumped her fist in front of her.

"Shamir," Edelgard began, not particularly eager to start yet another quarrel. "You are to lead a squadron to the northwest."

The young emperor felt a throbbing heartbeat in her chest as she took in the silence.

Then another.

Shamir slowly brought her eyes to finally meet hers as her head slowly lifted, "excuse me?"

"U-um," I think I hear one of the guards calling for me," Caspar swiveled his body awkwardly before Leonie snapped her hand forward and gripped his arm tightly to prevent his escape.

She wouldn't lie, Edelgard felt like doing the exact same thing right now. She watched as Leonie and Caspar angrily whispered at one another as he desperately tried to free himself from her grasp. Leonie landed a firm punch on his bicep at which the man recoiled and winced.

It was much better to witness this than what she was imagining Shamir must be doing right now. Though the comical display did not stop the burning she felt, no doubt from the mercenary's intimidating gaze.

"I don't think I heard you correctly," Shamir sliced the silence with an ever growing irritation in her voice. "Perhaps my hearing is starting to go."

"That would suck," Leonie quietly stated. "I mean, you wouldn't be a very good mercenary anymore."

Edelgard cleared her throat and turned her head back to face the older woman, though her eyes rested on the table just before Shamir, refusing to make contact. She found a single spot on the table where the darkened curvatures of the wood made a beautiful circular symbol, almost like a crest.

"You see, Shamir," Edelgard's breaths quickened. She may be emperor, but there was something about Shamir that made her feel as if she had just enrolled at the Officer's Academy again. "We seem to be in agreement that this eastern assault is an ambush."

"Uh huh," Shamir enunciated each syllable.

"Well," she continued, quite bravely she must admit, "if that is the case, the land we've gained in the west could be in peril."

"Or," Shamir swung her leg around the bench so that she was now fully facing Edelgard, "this ambush is meant to take your head from your shoulders. Is that what you want?"

"Regardless," Edelgard had thought of the possibility. But she simply couldn't allow the western front to go unprotected from a large assault, at least not without the aid of someone so capable. "That's why Ferdinand-"

This time, Shamir's palm shot up into the air, stopping Edelgard in her tracks. Just as if she were back in school, she quickly pursed her lips and straightened her posture.

"Is. That. What. You. Want?" Shamir punctuated each word. "Edelgard head soccer?"

"Ew," Dorothea couldn't help but let her disgust show as she twisted her face.

"Of course not," Edelgard wouldn't entertain the imagery. "But I need my strongest allies protecting the western front."

She could see Shamir's jawline twitch as her teeth clenched, if she did it any harder Edelgard was sure she would crack a tooth or two.

A loud THUNK.

Edelgard recoiled as the table vibrated once again. She looked up to see the mercenary forcibly lift herself from the bench.

Without so much as a word, she marched to the exit, her footsteps echoed with each hard step she took. Edelgard knew what that meant. The mercenary was capable of being as quiet as any supernatural force or an animal of the wild. But each click of her boots on the marble floor was an angry message.

Edelgard let several seconds pass by, perhaps to let the ghostly sounds of Shamir's boots fade from her mind. Finally she spoke, "gather the Eagles in the morning, we'll meet here in the dining hall to discuss tactics."

"Yeah…" Ferdinand hesitated. "I mean, yes, Edelgard."

"And please let me know the second Ingrid and Annette return," she continued as she lifted herself from the table, "I can only hope it would be before we depart."

Dorothea took her cue and also rose with an exasperated sigh, "I suppose I should be checking in on Lysithea and Flayn anyhow. They've been quite scarce lately."

Edelgard elegantly swung each leg from the bench and began making her way to the same exit Shamir had left through, sure that enough time had passed that they would not come in contact again. At least not for the rest of the night.

It also happened to be the closest exit to the student quarters. To her quarters.

Yes, it was true she could've taken Rhea's chambers as soon as the wretch had fled Garreg Mach, perhaps even before then. But something about taking up residence in such a large space seemed… wrong. Did a leader truly need such a large empty space in order to rule? To strategize?

No. Edelgard felt far more comfortable in the confines of her old student quarters where she could retreat to her moderately sized desk and begin her drawings. As of late, they were the only means of an escape from the bloodshed that had descended upon Fodlan.

To escape the thoughts of him.

Edelgard shook her head, trying to push the thoughts from her mind. She did not care to let the tears free until her dormitory door was firmly blocking the view of any would-be voyeurs.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a cool breeze against her skin. She had finally made it outside. Edelgard could breathe. Her quarters were a short distance from here and then she could let herself fall into her bed and bury her face into the stuffed animal she kept on her pillow.

Few people walked the paths of Garreg Mach, especially at this hour. Most of the soldiers settled their camps outside of the south gates, and the refugees found the town to the east more befitting. But it didn't bother her.

In fact, it was comforting. Edelgard could feel a soft smile form from her lips. It reminded her of the days-

She felt a hard smack on her side, her feet frantically stepped sideways to keep her balance, to keep her from falling to the cement.

Edelgard sprung her hand to the haft of her axe that hung from her belt. Her eyes scanned the direction of the assault. Each eye darted wildly in search of the perpetrator.

The dining room's outer walls were dark. Trees lined the pathway and blocked a clear view to whatever was responsible.

"Show yourself," Edelgard kept hand on her haft.

No one answered.

She took a quick second to see a wooden sword laying silently on the path that she just walked. Was that what had struck her?

Wooden swords don't come out of nowhere.

"That was pretty poor reflexes," a voice called from the dark shadows the trees formed.

Edelgard let herself breathe as she removed her hand from her weapon. Without even thinking she found her right hand had pressed itself against her chest, "Shamir."

"I didn't say to let your guard down," finally the blue haired mercenary stepped out from behind one of the shadows and slowly began a stride toward her.

Edelgard inwardly kicked herself. Half of Shamir's body was exposed, only hidden by the shadows. Had she paid enough attention she could have seen her a lot sooner, "and I didn't say I was in the mood for games."

"You could've easily seen me," Shamir lifted her arm and revealed another wooden sword firm in her grasp. She stopped short of the one she had struck Edelgard with. "If you were only paying attention."

"I didn't realize you meant to attack me," Edelgard furrowed her brows as she watched Shamir study her own wooden sword.

"Then Byleth was a poor professor," she coolly replied.

The name made Edelgard's eyes twitch, as if someone had pressed a fiery cattle prod into her chest, "I do recall you assisting in our education."

"Oh no, I'm definitely a bad teacher," Shamir pointed her toe at the wooden sword that rested on the cement. In one graceful motion she kicked her leg forward and sent the mock weapon flipping end over end toward Edelgard.

Edelgard threw out her hand and deftly gripped the handle. She was not naive, nor was she green. She knew how to handle a weapon, "I believe you were an adequate teacher."

That was a lie. Yes, in her younger years she envied Shamir. No, not envied… She was jealous. Edelgard was jealous of the shared commonalities her and Byleth had. But now, she had grown to see many layers of the mercenary.

And one of those layers included a deadly woman who was fiercely loyal. She was more than just an adequate teacher, she was exemplary.

"You do realize that majority of all of Fodlan wants you dead, right?" Shamir swung her blade down to her side. Though it was only made of wood, Edelgard swore she could hear the wind whistle in its path.

"I am keenly aware, yes," Edelgard narrowed her vision on the former knight. Her knuckles tightened around her own wooden sword. Did Shamir mean to spar?

This was no time to-

Shamir dashed forward in a blue blur and swung her wooden blade down. Edelgard barely stepped aside in time to avoid one heck of a goose egg to the top of her head.

"Shamir-" Edelgard stumbled on her feet.

"Do you mean to give them what they want?" Shamir ignored her words. "Do you mean to throw your life away so carelessly?"

Edelgard let her shoulders relax. That's what this was about.

It was another layer of Shamir. Her worry often showed itself in the most peculiar ways, so beating Edelgard with a stick was not out of question for the mercenary.

But before she could let another thought form, Shamir darted toward her, this time bringing her blade horizontally across her face.

Edelgard bent backwards as the wooden stick swooshed just above her face. She could feel the wind kiss her cheeks, "I intend to throw nothing away."

"Then you believe yourself to be a more capable warrior," Shamir thrusted the tip of her mock weapon forward. Another, then another.

Edelgard felt her muscles beginning to react faster than she could think. It had been quite some time since she practiced the Dance of Water, but it seemed her body did not forget.

"I believe myself to be more than able," she replied to Shamir. Edelgard swung her own stick toward Shamir's side, hoping to return the favor of the bruise she'd surely develop later.

Shamir elegantly twirled her body in a circle and Edelgard's weapon tasted nothing but air.

Interesting.

Edelgard wondered how she was able to avoid the blade without dodging backward. A move she had never practiced.

"More able than myself?" Shamir was toying with her, she knew this. If the older woman so desired, she could have covered Edelgard's entire body with whelps by now. She couldn't deny it, Shamir's movements reminded her of a certain someone. The fluidity, the elegance…

"Perhaps not," Edelgard did not let up. She looked for openings but Shamir's feet never settled in one spot. For a moment, she wondered how the blue-haired woman managed to stay on her feet when it seemed they never touched the ground. "But capable enough."

"To stay alive?" Shamir swung several more times. It was obvious she was still not going at her full strength or speed, though she had begun to up the ante. "Because it sure seems like suicide to me."

Edelgard saw the blade rapidly approaching. Without thought she twirled on her heel, in the same fashion she saw Shamir do no more than just a few seconds ago.

WHAP

Edelgard's hands immediately shot to both buttocks. The stinging was slightly delayed but there was no doubt that she failed to avoid that strike. "Ow!"

She didn't mean to let her whine escape, but the throbbing on her behind had only intensified the red hot stinging.

"Now you have no ass," Shamir's tone was as cool as ever. "Tell me, how do you intend to continue fighting with no ass?"

"I still have an a-," Edelgard quickly noticed the child-like tone in her voice and took a moment to collect herself. "My rear is fine."

"Not if that was a real blade," Shamir used the end of her weapon to point to Edelgard, "you'd be dead. Sliced in half."

"I get your point," Edelgard sighed heavily. She'd known Shamir's point for quite some time now, the only thing she didn't know was whether or not the mercenary had any additional beatings in store. "What would you have me do then?"

Surprisingly, Shamir lowered her wooden sword. She twirled the haft in her hand a few times as if she was assessing its weight.

For a moment, Edelgard thought she saw a glimmer, a reflection in the corner of Shamir's eye.

Impossible.

"I'd have you live," Shamir lifted her head to face her. "Byleth would never forgive me if something were to happen to you when he returns. Or have you given up hope already?"

"Of course not!" Edelgard's voice rose. She felt her cheeks getting hotter. "I-I mean, I will never give up hope."

Her outburst was sudden and surprising. But the feeling of having her own heart just out of reach tore and gnawed at her very soul.

"I think you have," Shamir shook her head as she used her free hand to uncover her face from a few rogue strands of blue. "Otherwise you wouldn't be so quick to do something so stupid."

"You're the one that agreed abandoning our people could very well cause an uprising," Edelgard took a firm step toward her. It was only then she realized her hands were still pressed firmly against her buttocks. Surely, her courageous step was a lot less intimidating with her hands on her rear.

"Maybe," Shamir turned to the side and stepped casually as she continued to twirl her wooden sword in front of her face, "you think he's really gone and you're eager to join him."

Edelgard felt a twinge in her chest. She quickly turned away from Shamir to hide any sign of recoil.

In the past, yes, the thought had crossed her mind. But only briefly.

"Not anymore," the words escaped before Edelgard could suppress them. She lowered her head in embarrassment. Embarrassment and shame. Her arms instinctively crossed in front of her chest, as if Shamir meant to dig her own heart out.

"Any more?" Shamir feigned surprise. Edelgard didn't appreciate the mocking tone. "So you have considered it."

Edelgard didn't answer, instead she stood motionless, determined to protect her heart. Her intertwined arms pressed harder against her chest.

"What if it were true?" Shamir continued, ignoring Edelgard's defensiveness. "What if he was gone? Dead?"

She's goading you, Edelgard tightly shut her eyes, trying to block out the mercenaries words. Don't fall for whatever she's trying to lure you into.

"Crushed by fifteen tons of stone?" Edelgard couldn't tell what Shamir was doing now, but she could hear her boots click against the cement pathway. "You rush off into a battle you're ill prepared for and join him in whatever afterlife you believe in."

Edelgard remained silent. She would not fall for whatever Shamir had planned, but she felt her head shaking as if to physically repel the words Shamir was hurling at her.

"What happens to the rest of us?"

Edelgard felt her body physically jerk. Of all the things she imagined Shamir would follow up with, that was not one she prepared for.

"Are we meant to just carry on in this war without you?" Shamir's voice lowered into a solemn plea. "We already have to do it without him, and I don't need to tell you how hard that's been."

"Shamir," Edelgard started as her arms loosened. "I mean, wars cost lives. We knew this when we started-"

"We didn't start this, Edelgard," Shamir snapped. "Those Agarthans or Whoever Slithers in Some Ditch started this war. Don't forget that."

"I thought you meant only to look after me to keep some promise," Edelgard quipped. In honesty, she didn't know how to win in a war of wits with this woman, but it was an attempt at least, even if only a feeble one. "Some promise you made to him."

"I didn't take you to be dim-witted," Shamir clicked her tongue.

"Did you just call me…" Edelgard thought she had seen her share of surprises, but being called dim-witted was not one of them.

For several seconds the two women said nothing.

No one would ever have the courage to say the things Shamir has, at least not to Edelgard's face. Had this been a different life one might even face an execution sentence for saying such things about the exalted Adrestrian Emperor.

Edelgard released a loud chuckle as her smile widened from ear to ear, "you called me dim-witted."

"Stop it," Shamir didn't return the laugh. She turned her head to avoid eye contact. "It's not funny."

"Actually," Edelgard pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek. "I find it quite entertaining."

"Well, you'd have to be dim-witted if you think your life means nothing to…" Shamir waved her hand behind her, motioning toward the main building of Garreg Mach, "all the brats in there. They care about you. It's always 'family this' or 'family that.'"

"Shamir," Edelgard was quite amused. It was a feeling she had long forgotten, but it was a welcomed surprise. "You asked what would happen to 'us' if something were to happen to me."

"Shut up," Shamir snapped as she lowered her chin, allowing her hair to fall and cover her face. "Go to bed."

It appeared Shamir had forgotten that she was no longer their teacher's assistant, judging by the commanding tone of her voice.

But emperor or not, Edelgard would oblige the mercenary.

"Yes, professor," she teased.

The ruins of Zanado never failed to make Byleth's chest heavy. For what reason, he did not know.

"Because it was our home," Sothis' voice rang inside of him.

Byleth looked back to take in one last glance before the ruins would disappear beyond the trail he was on, "our home…"

"We're not far from Garreg Mach," Sothis yawned as if she had just recently awoken from a slumber. "Less than a day. We must ensure the young ones are safe."

"Right," Byleth held back a yawn of his own as he turned his head to the trail in front of him. It was a less traveled one by the looks of the grown over dirt road. He didn't recall it being this faded before. "They all made it out of the tomb, they must be."

"Just because they made it out of the tomb does not mean they are safe," Sothis snapped.

Deep inside, Byleth knew that. He knew the Agarthans swarmed the grounds of Garreg Mach, and had rained destructive light with their javelins from the sky. Whether any of his students made it to the hill, he was unsure.

But he had to believe they had. However long he was out for, perhaps there was still time to help with the evacuation.

"How did we get here anyway?" Byleth's eyes focused on the change of scenery he approached. The green trees were a stark contrast to the beige, dusty ruins of Zanado.

"Am I to know everything?" Sothis' tone was impatient.

"Well, you ARE the progenitor goddess," Byleth whispered as he searched for any signs of life in the nature that now surrounded them. "And I thought… we had merged. I couldn't hear you."

"I could hear you," she seemed to be trying to soothe him. "I could hear every plea. I had always wondered what you would do without me and now I know. Just like a child that's lost his mother."

He couldn't help but to roll his eyes, "my hair, it's still a pale green."

Byleth ran his fingers through his hair. His fingertips collided with something hard and cold. It was then he remembered he still bore the crown Rhea… or Seiros bestowed upon him. Without a second thought he removed it from his head and tucked it into his belt.

He had no desire to wear a crown of any kind, but at least the gold might buy some nurishment in a dire situation.

"We must have fractured again," Sothis finally offered some form of explanation rather than hurling backhanded insults, "but not fully, or my appearance would have subsided from your hair and eyes."

"Fractured?" Byleth couldn't say that the word appealed to him, but if it meant Sothis was with him again, could talk to him again, then so be it. Honestly, he was getting tired of hearing Sothis would 'always be with him' when he only longed to be berated by his phantom twin once again.

"We must return to Gideon!"

Byleth instinctively dropped to a single knee. The deep, but frantic voice came from further north on the trail.

Heavy clanking nearly drowned out the man's pleas.

Byleth swiveled his body as he crept further from the trail into the woods, careful his feet would not disturb they're surroundings.

"Please! Send a messenger to Emperor Edelgard!"

Edelgard? Byleth stopped in place, he was only a few meters from the path now, but the name ceased his motions.

"This voice sounds… familiar," Sothis added to Byleth's thoughts. He nodded slowly in agreement, not daring to vocalize his internal conversation.

"Can you brutes not speak the common tongue?" The man frantically continued, his anger intensely grew. "They'll be killed if Edelgard doesn't send a regiment NOW!"

Byleth lowered his head, he inwardly counted the clankings and thuds he heard against the beaten path. Seven? Eight?

Every few seconds the man's voice grew closer, and so did the march of whomever forced him to accompany them.

Byleth could see them emerge on the path now. They wore heavy metal armor, horns protruded from either side of their helmets. The splash of red painted on their chest complimented the blackness of the metal.

Adrestian soldiers?

Three soldiers walked in unison and behind them a man weakly followed with his hands bound by ropes that one of the front soldiers held, a potato sack covering his head. The soldier yanked the rope hard and the man fell to his knees.

Four soldiers followed their prisoner. One stepped forward and kicked the man on the ground.

"Those are the arrogant one's soldiers," Sothis did not need to be afraid of being overheard.

Byleth nodded once again, but he couldn't help but feel… something about the hooded man, he just wasn't sure what it was yet.

"Interfering could be dangerous," Sothis warned, her voice not as jovial as usual. "Downing the arrogant one's soldiers would not be a good look. I certainly don't believe it will win you any favors."

He knew his twin was right. Maybe the soldiers were on their way to Garreg Mach to help with the devastation and aftermath, to aid their new emperor.

But the prisoner spoke of an urgent message.

Before Byleth knew what had happened, he found himself standing and leaping to the path the patrol walked with their captive.

The soldiers stopped and recoiled, many grasping the handles of their various weapons. Byleth did not reach for his.

Instead he faced his palms towards them as his steps slowed, "I don't mean to engage."

This show of faith did little to put the guard at ease. None loosened their stance, some even tightened their grips on their sword handles.

"State your business," The soldier in the front boomed from behind his helmet.

Byleth slowly took his right hand and pointed at the man on the ground, "I only wish to know what message the captive carries."

"It is no business of yours," the soldier stood taller as he waved his hand dismissively. "His words and lies are meant for Her Majesty's ears only."

"I am Her Majesty's professor," Byleth continued. His muscles tightened, something seemed… wrong. "It most certainly does concern me."

"Professor?" The muffled sound of the prisoner's voice called from beneath the sack that covered his head.

Still, Byleth could not place the voice, but he was more certain than ever he knew the man. And by the fact that the captive's head shot up at the revelation, Byleth was sure the man knew of him as well.

"Ha!" The leader's exaggerated laugh was only made more ridiculous as he puffed his chest out. "Professor? Do you think the Emperor to still be a mere student?"

Byleth lowered his brows. Is she no longer a student? Had Garreg Mach fallen so badly that the Officer's Academy ceased to be?

"Professor Eisner!" The man pushed himself off the dirt road and back onto his legs, "It's me! It's Felix!"

Felix Hugo Fraldarius. Byleth did know him.

Before Byleth could process why Felix would be bound by soldiers, the guard that held the young man's rope yanked on it once again. Felix stumbled, unable to see but managed to keep himself on his feet, "I care not for your name, a soldier for the Holy Kingdom of Fhaergus is an enemy to Her Majesty."

"Felix," Byleth ignored the guard's formal rebuttal. "What message do you need to get to Edelgard?"

"No speaking to the prisoner!" The soldier took a giant step forward, blocking Byleth's view of the Blue Lion.

He knew a threat when he saw one. Adrestrian soldiers or not, it was obvious Felix carried important information that the Blue Lion felt more imperative than his own life. After all, he only pleaded to get the information to El's ears, not for his own freedom.

Byleth quickly unsheathed the Sword of the Creator, though he kept its chains firmly linked, "I wish you no harm, but I need to speak-"

The soldier rushed forward and Byleth heard the familiar sling of a sword being freed from its cover.

"Must you always engage in such barbarity?" Sothis let out a heavy sigh.

Byleth paid her no mind as he stepped to the side and thrusted the tip of his blade where the soldier's helmet separated from the rest of his armor.

The man immediately dropped the sword he once grasped tightly. He brought both hands to his neck as his steps drastically slowed. The man wobbled, took several more steps upon the path as he gurgled.

Byleth returned his eyes to the remaining soldiers as he heard a loud thud behind him. The soldier he had slain falling to the ground, no doubt.

"Professor, what's going on?" Felix darted his covered head in every direction.

"Everything is fine, Felix," Byleth coolly stated as he brought his sword up and rested it on his right shoulder. He knew the rest of the soldiers would not let the murder of their leader go unpunished.

As if on cue, three more guard's galloped toward him, their weapons cocked and at the ready.

"Aaah!" One cried, "in the name of Her Majesty, your blood will repay your insolence!"

Byleth brought his sword across his face and deflected a blade with a cloud CLINK. The guard stumbled sideways and he saw his opening. A quick thrust under the metal skirt of the torso armor would render him a threat no longer.

"Professor?!" Felix's voice frantically called out, it bordered on a frenzied plea.

Byleth did not answer, instead he only spun his body on his left heel as he lowered himself closer to the ground, letting his sword spin with him. It met resistance as he heard another deep voiced soldier cry in agony.

"For Her Majesty!" Byleth heard one of the guards cry out from behind Felix. Pounding footsteps rapidly approached him.

Byleth cleared his mind, he knew that his body would instinctively take over. A blade's glimmer caught his attention as he swiftly sidestepped and brought his sword down once again.

It was almost as if he could no longer see his attackers. Only blades and blood. Byleth brought his sword across his body to parry another chunk of steel before slicing the air once again as it met a soft resistance.

There were cries of pain, cries of glory. It all blurred together in Byleth's ears.

It was an odd feeling. He had never been so distanced from a battle before. Byleth felt no pain, he was certain he had not been struck, but the soldier's bodies faded from his vision. Yet his body kept moving.

Another strike, another cry. And another.

Byleth widened his stance and used both hands to grip the haft of the Sword of the Creator as he held the blade horizontally above his head. He awaited another shimmer from a sword or an axe.

Several moments passed without a sound.

Slowly Byleth's blurred vision cleared as he saw several soldiers on the ground. None of them moved. Some lay motionless on their stomachs, some on their backs. One laid on his side.

He let several more seconds pass as he eyed each one, ensuring they would not rise again. Once he was satisfied, Byleth closed his stance and sheathed his sword.

What happened? Byleth blinked several times. He would always see his foes' faces in battle, even if they were armored. His body moved faster than before, his blade acted as if it were an extension of his arm.

"P-professor?" A weak, concerned voice called out to him.

Byleth didn't hesitate, he jogged toward the young man and lifted the hood from his face, "it's alright, Felix."

But the Blue Lion caused Byleth to physically recoil as he lowered his brows.

Felix blinked several times, trying to allow his eyes to adjust to the newfound sunlight. But, he was broader, his jawline was more defined than Byleth had remembered.

"Where have you been?" Felix's tone was no longer desperate, but rather irritated. The man that stood before Byleth pulled and yanked at the ropes that bound his hands. "A little help?"

Byleth didn't respond to his question, he pulled his black dagger from his belt and cut the ropes that bound him.

Felix immediately rubbed his wrists as the rope fell to the ground, "finally. Now, I believe you owe me some answers."

Byleth was taken back by the man's new demeanor, it was only minutes ago he was pleading as a captive, "owe you answers? How did you escape Garreg Mach so quickly? And the others?"

Felix eyed him suspiciously.

Byleth became uncomfortable as the seconds passed by. Did the man contain news Byleth couldn't stand to hear?

"Escape Garreg Mach?" The Blue Lion sliced the silence with a hiss. "I haven't been to Garreg Mach in… what? Five imperial years?"

"This is no joke, Felix," Byleth grew impatient. "Edelgard, Dorothea-"

"I do not joke!" Felix snapped at him as he finally released his reddened wrists from his grasp. "Garreg Mach has long been rebuilt since the events of the Holy Tomb five imperial years ago by the Adrestrian Empire! If I were to show my face there, I'd surely be imprisoned as would have been my fate had you not come along."

Five… years?

Byleth let his thoughts echo in his mind. In fact, it was ONLY those words he could hear.

"Five imperial years, huh?" Sothis did not seem as startled as himself as she spoke through her yawns. "That would certainly explain my returned fatigue."

"Professor?" Felix snapped his fingers close to Byleth's face.

Byleth could feel his eyes focus on the man's face once again.

"We have more pressing matters at hand," Felix continued. "We must send word to Emperor Edelgard to head off a Kingdom garrison at Gideon."

"What-" Byleth cut himself short. He repeated Felix's words in his mind. "Why does she need to get to Gideon?"

"I've been feeding information to the Empire," Felix dropped his head. Byleth could see the man swallow hard. "I wanted no place in this war, yet here I am. Unable to serve a mad king but bound by blood to do so. But Dimitri's lost faith in me- damnit, if only I'd seen it sooner."

"What are you talking about, Felix?" Byleth's patience was on its last legs. "What is going to happen in Gideon?"

"The Kingdom took Ingrid and Annette," Felix clenched his jaw tight. "At our last rendezvous… They were waiting for us."

"Why would they take them?" Byleth's mind raced as he struggled to focus at the matter at hand. Images of his students' smiling faces plagued his vision.

"They were my contacts in the Empire," Felix continued, forcibly resting his hands on his hips. "I cannot condone the Kingdom for what it's become. We had a system to feed information to Emperor Edelgard not far from Gideon… but, I must have made a misstep or have fallen out of 'His Majesty's' graces as the latest information I've conveyed had proven to be false on more than one occasion. When we were attacked, we were greatly outnumbered and I'm ashamed to admit… I ran. I thought if I could tell the Emperor we could organize a rescue-"

"What will happen to them?" Byleth let the details of Felix's words fall as his priority rested with the two girls. "Where will they take them?"

"They will be executed, professor," Felix's face fell as he intensified his gaze into Byleth's eyes. "Dimitri and Lady Rhea will be sure to make an example of them. A spectacle of the Church and Kingdom's alliance… it will most likely happen in Blaiddyd."

"Then we better move," Byleth did not hesitate. He began his stride in the opposite direction he started his journey.

"You mean to go alone?" Felix sprinted to catch up to him though he stayed a few steps behind.

"If I must," Byleth gave a firm nod to no one in particular.

He heard a loud sigh from behind him. By the exaggerated disapproval, Byleth guessed Felix opposed his plan.

"Let me get a sword," Felix called to him. "Two against an entire Kingdom and Church? You've always had a flair for the theatrics, haven't you?"

Byleth did not stop his stride, "not the Kingdom and Church. For Ingrid and Annette."