Ashe was writing at his desk in his small, candlelit dorm room when a knock came at his door. Letting out a reluctant sigh, he placed his quill back into the small ink container before standing up and walking over to the door. Initially, he'd expected it to be one of his classmates checking up on him again, as they'd been doing ever since they returned from their mission; which was why it left him even more surprised when he opened the door to see none other than Catherine standing on the other side.

"Oh, Lady Catherine," the archer's eyes widened slightly, though his expression quickly shifted to one of apprehension.

"Hello, Ashe," said the swordswoman, though there was a noticeable strain in her voice.

Ashe swallowed hard, obviously not being too thrilled about the Captain's presence. "Is there something you need, Lady Catherine?" He manages to utter out.

Catherine shook her head. "No, actually. In fact, it's… kind of the other way around. May I come in?"

Though every fiber of the boy's existence wanted to tell the woman to get lost, Ashe suppressed these urges and took a step back to allow Catherine through. As soon as she was inside, she shut the door behind her and took a moment to ensure nobody was listening outside before returning her attention to Ashe.

"Listen, Ashe… After everything that's happened today, I'm certain that you have many questions regarding my involvement in Christophe's death."

The adopted son of Gaspard scowled and crossed his arms. For a moment, there was a tense silence. "...I might."

The blonde wanted to let out an exasperated sigh, but she pulled herself together and said, "Well? Do you, or do you not?"

Ashe gritted his teeth. "Of course I do!" He blurted out, much to his own surprise. "He was my brother! Lord Lonato said Christophe trusted you with his life. That had to have meant you two were close, right? So why? Why did you hand him over to be executed? There must have been another way!"

"There was no other way." Catherine's temper flared. "If there was, then I'd have chosen. On that I swear upon the goddess."

The archer's face fell in distraught as the sudden burst of anger whittled away, for as brief as it had lasted. "So then, why are you here?" He asked dejectedly. "Is it forgiveness that you're after?"

"I can live either with, or without your forgiveness, Ashe." The woman told him before reaching into her pouch, withdrew an aged piece of paper and held it out to him. "But living with a clear conscience would be much harder if you didn't know the truth."

Ashe eyed the parchment in the Captain's hand before taking it tentatively from her. "What's this?"

"Read for yourself." She told him simply, and the boy turned so that his back was facing her before he began reading aloud:

Dear Madrid,

If this letter finds you, then this means that you now have my answer.

I have thought long and hard on your proposition, and every fiber of my being is telling me that an act of sin as blasphemous as this is not the solution that we seek.

However, as the days have gone by, and with the snowstorm allowing me to think on what you've said more than I care to admit, I realize now that this may be the only way in which Fodlan can fully heal. The crests, the corruption, the Central Church… all of it must go. And that starts, as you've said, with the Archbishop. They are all a festering wound that has only stifled our progress as a human race and perpetuated suffering.

While I deeply respect His Highness for his diplomatic attempts to enact change within the corrupted system the Archbishop upholds, I begin to fear that it is all for nought. So long as the majority of the nobles fight tooth and nail to maintain the status quo, there is no hope that we shall ever see true reform.

And for that, you have my utmost support in this endeavor.

Yours in the cause,

Christophe

Catherine watched as Ashe's knuckles turned whiter with every word he read out. Once he was finished, he turned back around to face her with a look of sheer bewilderment.

"Catherine… what does this mean?"

"Ashe…" The swordswoman braced herself. "What you are holding is a letter incriminating Christophe in a plot to assassinate Lady Rhea."

She'd half-expected the boy to jump into a fit of rage for daring to insinuate such a thing, yet Ashe remained in complete disbelief. "But… if this letter is from my brother, then that would mean it predates…" He brought his gaze up to the knight and looked her straight in the eye. "Catherine… Did the church lie about his involvement in the Tragedy of Duscar?"

Catherine nodded solemnly. "Yes. Christophe was a good man- maybe too good. It wasn't in his nature to mistrust people. When the Western Church told him that Lady Rhea had to die for the goddess' sake, or the world's, he went along with it."

"So… Christophe really was guilty of the crime he committed?"

"No- Christophe was indeed innocent of his involvement with the Tragedy of Duscar. The Central Church made it seem that way to cover up the actual reason for his execution." She took a moment to brush aside some loose strands from her face. "You have to understand, Ashe. I wasn't motivated by a personal grudge. When I found that letter, I was forced into an impossible situation. The world was in chaos, and the Church did what it had to do. However…"

The wielder of Thunderbrand then took a chance and took a step toward the young man before placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She'd half-expected him to brush her arm off, but did not. "...That is why I have decided to show this to you now. After all the pain and suffering that had been caused by Lonato's misguided pursuit of vengeance, I knew that you at least deserved to know what actually happened." She then nodded to the letter in his hand. "And it's also why I am leaving it up to you to decide on whether or not Lord Lonato deserves to know before.. Well, you know."

Ashe looked down at the paper and gave her a knowing nod. "I understand."

Catherine managed a small smile. "Good. I'm glad we at least reached an understanding," she told him before turning to head toward the door.

"Catherine, wait!"

The Captain of the Knights paused at the door, turning back to face him. "Yes, Ashe?"

Ashe hesitated, searching for the right words. "I… I just wanted to say thank you. For telling me the truth, for everything."

Catherine's smile widened slightly, and she nodded. "You're welcome, Ashe. Remember, the truth can be a powerful tool. Use it wisely."

With that, she opened the door and left, leaving Ashe alone with his thoughts and the letter in his hand.

x-x-x

Kratos followed Shamir and Cyril as they led him to the left wing of the Monastery, where they then descended another flight of stone stairs leading underground. Once they reached the bottom, two armored knights stood guard at a reinforced door with a small barred window which allowed them to see into the dungeon.

Shamir spoke and addressed the knights. "I've brought the prisoner's visitor as Jeralt ordered."

One of the knights took a long look at Kratos, as though he were mesmerized by the towering white brigand standing behind his superior before nodding finally and unlocking the door to let them through.

Kratos stepped through the door and found himself in a dimly lit dungeon. The space was narrow, with a single hallway lined with six cells on one side. Each cell had thick iron bars, with only the only light coming from a few lit torches mounted on the other side of the wall.

The dungeon only had two occupants. One was the famous knight and mercenary Jeralt, who seemed to be in high spirits as he had a friendly chat with the prisoner in the cell before him. Through the iron bars, Lonato could be seen sitting on the only piece of furniture he had, which was a grimy wooden bucket flipped upside down. No longer in his pristine armor fit for a lord, he was now dressed in dirty brown rags typically issued to prisoners. His once proud demeanor had been replaced with a weary, disheveled look, and he glanced up as the door creaked open.

Jeralt too stopped mid-sentence as he saw who'd come through the door. "Well, it seems like you have some company. Perhaps we'll pick this up some other time." He then greeted the new arrivals. "I have to say," Jeralt told Kratos, "If not for those big red tattoos of yours—among other things—you would've been a hard man to describe and track down."

Kratos grunted, cutting right to the chase. "The prisoner wished to speak with me?"

"That he did," The Blade Breaker nodded. "Said he had no idea who you were, only what you looked like, and was insistent about meeting you." He gestured to Lonato. "In any case, you won't have much time to talk, but I'll be right upstairs if you need anything. Though, I doubt that neither you nor I will have anything to worry about." With that, Jeralt left the dungeon, followed closely by Shamir and Cyril and left Kratos alone with Lonato as the sound of a heavy door closed and locked behind him.

Kratos stepped closer to the cell, towering over the disheveled lord. Now that the two were face-to-face, Kratos could see that the minor lord's right arm was now missing. Lonato scrutinized the man who shattered his shoulder, yet there was no trace of anger or resentment towards Kratos as he spoke, "So—I guess you're the one I should be thanking for that spear you've given me."

Kratos met his gaze steadily. "It was necessary. You were going to harm the boy."

Lonato nodded, a faint, tired smile forming on his lips. "Yes, I suppose I was. And yet, here I am, alive and well. A prisoner, but alive… for however long that will last."

The Ghost of Sparta was starting to grow impatient. "Why did you summon me?"

"I… wanted to thank you." The rebel leader admitted. "At the time, I'd assumed you were just another one of the Archbishop's blind followers—quick and eager to do her bidding with complete disregard for their own autonomy." Lonato shifted on his makeshift chair before continuing. "But never in a thousand years would I have expected you to be my dear boy's professor. When I described you to the captain you just spoke to, I refused to believe that someone such as yourself would take on that role. Even as I gaze upon you now, it's hard to reconcile." Kratos remained silent, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Ashe spoke highly of you, you know. In his letters to me. Said you were a man of few words, but also of immense strength and wisdom. It was evident that he respects you deeply. I suppose… I just wanted to understand why."

Ashe's professor thought for a moment. "The boy is a good student. He has potential. In many ways, he… reminds me of my own son, Atreus."

Lonato raised a brow. "You have a son as well?"

"Yes."

"And where is he now, if I may ask?"

"...I do not know." Kratos admitted. "He told me there was something he needed to do. Alone."

"I see." Lonato grunted. "My boy, Ashe… he was always too optimistic for his own good. Always tries to assume the best intention in others, as every knight in those stories of his were."

Hearing this gave Kratos pause for thought. "You lied to him."

"What?"

Kratos spoke a little louder this time. "Up until now, you never once told him how you truly felt. You sent him away under the pretense that you had moved on. You never allowed him the chance to try to ease your pain- and you allowed your rage to consume you."

Lonato narrowed his eyes angrily at the brigand. "And what do you know of it?"

Kratos didn't budge. "I know the cost of letting anger and grief fester. It destroys everything in its path and harms everyone we care about. You thought you were protecting him by keeping your pain hidden, but all you did was push him away."

"I thought I was shielding him from the truth!" Lonato's jaw tightened, his left hand clenching into a fist. "There was no reason for him to carry the burden of my suffering!"

"And yet you refused to give him that choice regardless." Kratos countered. "You denied him the chance to stand by you and share that burden. You underestimated his strength."

The prisoner's nostrils flared. "Fine, then. Let us assume I did tell him, and Ashe does somehow talk me out of it. Then what? We simply allow the Church to continue using the Goddess' name to justify their tyranny?"

Kratos regarded Lonato with a steady gaze. "I do not care about your personal vendetta. You chose to put many lives in danger, including Ashe. Now, you are paying the price for your decisions."

Lonato scoffed in frustration. "I've accomplished nothing in my plight against the Church. If I wasn't going to die at that woman's hand earlier, then what's the point in delaying the inevitable? What do I have left?"

Kratos's eyes softened slightly. "You can start by making amends with the family you still have left. Ashe still cares for you. Instead, the question you should be asking is, how will you use the time you have left to make things right with him?"

Before he could reply, the sound of keys jangling and disengaging locks brought the conversation to a halt, followed by the dungeon door opening with a loud groan. Both men turned to see Archbishop Rhea and her right hand Seteth stepping through the door, followed closely by Jeralt and a couple other knights who were escorting them.

"Ah, Sir Kratos," Said Rhea with her usual polite and candid demeanor. "I am pleased to see that you are already here. We were just about to send someone for you before we proceed with Lord Lonato's final sentence." She then glances at Lonato, who glared daggers at her. However, the Archbishop pretended to not take notice of this as she addressed her right hand. "Seteth, if you may."

The priest gave a curt nod before stepping directly in front of the cell. Reaching into his cloak, he withdrew a piece of rolled parchment and unrolled it for everyone to see. He cleared his throat, speaking loudly and clearly as he read out what was written.

"Lord Lonato, you stand trial for treason, inciting a rebellion against the Central Church, and desecrating the goddess' name under the guise of aiding such rebellion. In light of these grave charges, the penalty shall be death. However, considering your outstanding lifelong service under the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, of which the Central Church has many strong ties and alliances, a different course has been decided. By order of the Archbishop, you are hereby banished from the land of Fodlan. You are to remain under house arrest on the remote island of Viano off the coast of Albinea; where you shall remain for the rest of your days- with all titles and lands stripped from your name and given provisionally under a different lord until an appropriate heir has been decided upon.

"Should you ever violate these terms or be seen setting foot on Fodlan again, you shall be executed immediately and without trial. This leniency is a reflection of your previous contributions, but know that any further defiance will be met with swift and unforgiving retribution." After finishing reading from the parchment, Seteth looked up at Lonato with a stern expression. "Have you anything to say before your sentence is carried out?"

Lonato's gaze shifted first to Kratos, then to Rhea. His face hardened with a mix of both defiance and resignation flickering in his eyes. Finally, after a long pregnant pause, he took a deep breath, and he gave his answer.

x-x-x

Ashe sat at his desk as he stared intently at the letter Catherine had given him. His mind raced with thoughts of his adoptive father, Christophe, and the truth of what he'd just learned. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows across the crumpled paper as he read the words over and over again.

Catherine's words echoed in his head: And it's also why I am leaving it up to you to decide on whether or not Lord Lonato deserves to know before… Well, you know.

His heart ached. Could he really burden Lord Lonato with the truth, knowing it might break him even further? Or should he let him hold on to his beliefs, however misguided they may have been? Ashe sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. He picked up the letter, his gaze shifted to the candle burning on his desk.

Having made his decision, he held a corner of the letter to the candle, and set it aflame.

Meanwhile, after having just reached her quarters, Catherine immediately kicked off her boots and began to undo armor and let it drop haphazardly onto the floor. Once all of the extra weight had been removed, she moved toward her bed with the intention of burying her face into her pillow, but then the sight of the drawer where she originally kept the letter she'd given Ashe caught her eye. Sluggishly, she went to it and opened the cabinet that was empty save for another letter she'd kept in there as well as a simple gold ring.

At first, Catherine picked up the ring and fingered it in her hands for a moment before eventually moving on to the letter. Years of dust had accumulated on top of the folds, and she blew most of it off before opening it and began to read the words that were written in a familiar handwriting:

My Dearest Cassandra,

I hope this letter finds you well. How have you been? I miss you dearly and long to see you again.

I'm still stuck here in Fhirdiad with my mates. A snowstorm has hit, and we're not able to leave for at least another week. It's frustrating to be away from you for so long, especially with the ceremony coming up.

Speaking of which, there's something I regret having not done sooner- I've yet to introduce you to my new adoptive younger brother yet. I feel terrible about it, especially since you're about to become his sister-in-law, but I'm confident you'll like him a lot. He's a good kid, and I know he'll look up to you.

I'm sorry for having to delay our ceremony again, but please know that you are always in my thoughts. I can't wait to see you and hold you in my arms again.

With all my love,

Christophe

Catherine read the letter over once more before letting out an aggravated sigh. She then tosses the letter back into the drawer and closes it rather forcefully, and opens another drawer where the knight keeps her stash and grabs a bottle of ale.