Chapter 7 – Transfer of Leadership
"What the devil is going on out here?"
Despite the alarm, the noble opened the door wide and poked his head out, confused at the commotion. By the time he realized Felix was hunched in front of the door with no bindings, it was too late.
Felix threw his entire body into the noble's ample stomach, both of them tumbling into the room. He kicked the door shut and locked it, ensuring the soldiers pounding outside wouldn't break in any time soon.
The balding noble who stood behind his brother's chair immediately pressed the knife tip to his brother's throat. "Lord Felix," he sneered. "How nice of you to join us."
Felix didn't address him, instead taking stock of the situation. The man Felix had tackled scrambled to his feet, joining another finely dressed person that Felix recognized as a baron from the surrounding hills. The other two nobles, he was unfamiliar with.
Aside from daggers of their own, none of them appeared to have any real weapons or armor. Meaning if he could only separate his brother from them, this would be short work.
As the fat one mopped his sweaty brow, another figure stepped out from the corner. Unlike the other three, this man was equipped for battle, with a black and gold helmet pulled low over his face and fingering the long blade of his sword. Although outfitted like a soldier, he had more of an air of an underhanded rogue or, Felix realized, an assassin.
This'll be more difficult that I thought. He drew his sword and aimed it toward the one behind his brother. "Erik?" he asked, his eyes not leaving the noble. "Are you hurt?"
"No," his brother said.
The man behind the chair pushed the knife in further. "Drop your sword and it'll stay that way."
"So you three are behind the coup," Felix said. "Why?"
"It's nothing personal," the baron said. "It's just that House Fraldarius can't provide what we want."
The soldiers were hammering away on the door. It sounded like there were a dozen of them now. With that many people chopping axes into and throwing their shoulders against the wood, the doors, however heavy, were bound to give way. He didn't have much time.
"And what's that?" Felix asked, stepping to the right, putting distance between himself and the assassin. That was the real threat in the room and he wasn't sure how the silent entity would react. Felix kept the throwing dagger tucked against his palm and out of sight.
"To be on the winning side of this war, naturally," the baron said.
"In case you haven't heard, the war's over. We won." Felix gripped his sword tighter. "Which means you've lost."
"The Adrestian Empire has fallen, but the war is far from over."
"Enough of this!" The noble behind the chair stomped his foot and pointed the knife at Felix. "Drop your sword on the floor now or your brother dies!"
That was the opening Felix needed. He flung his dagger into the noble's shoulder, striking true. The noble dropped the knife and stumbled backwards, cradling his shoulder. Felix scooped Erik up and behind him, facing down the remaining foes.
"There's nowhere to go." The baron gestured at the door, barraged by all manner of fists and weapons. "You're surrounded. Be a good youth and abdicate your house seat."
"Forget that," the injured noble said, his jacket stained profusely. He picked up his knife and rattled it like a calvary saber. "They both die tonight."
"Felix?" Erik asked in a small voice.
"Stay behind me," he muttered. He looked around. No nearby windows and no other exits. The only windows were on the other side of the room, guarded by the assassin.
"When I say so, run for the nearest window," he said. Erik nodded while the others all drew their weapons.
The injured noble rushed him with a war cry, raising the knife high and stabbing downwards. Felix ducked and sliced across his midsection, then eyed Erik. "Go!"
The boy ran and Felix hurried alongside him. All three of their remaining foes conveyed on them, each brandishing their weapons. Felix dodged a wild swing from the fat man and returned a thrust. The man dropped to his knees, gasping and clutching his chest.
The baron jabbed at Erik, but Felix stretched out his sword, countering it. He left himself open to the assassin, who deftly cut his arm. Felix caught the assassin's next blow with his sword and pushed him away.
The baron tried for Erik again. Felix slashed the back of his leg and the baron fell, wide eyed and scared. He threw away his dagger and held up his hands meekly. "M-Mercy! I beg you!"
By then, the assassin had recovered and jabbed at Felix. He jumped over the baron, again putting himself between his brother and the last foe in the room. Erik fumbled with the lock on the window and Felix kept a steady guard, ready for any attack.
The assassin stepped to the side and his sword twitched right. Felix read the feint easily and parried the blow on the left side. He aimed for the assassin's chest, hoping to end the fight quickly. The other man blocked his attack and jumped back.
Without warning, the door flung open easily. Rather than more soldiers, Ingrid and Sylvain led a dozen armed servants and Fraldarius guards into the room.
Momentarily distracted by the backup, Felix turned back to the assassin, who threw open one of the windows. "Stop him!" Felix shouted.
It was too late. The assassin dove off the ledge and into the night. Felix, Ingrid, and Sylvain crowded the window, searching for him. But he had disappeared into the dark.
"Search the grounds," Felix ordered the guards. The captain of the guards saluted and hustled several troops out of the room at once. Then, Felix turned to Ingrid and Sylvain. "Thanks."
"Anytime," Sylvain said. "You know how I like to make a dramatic entrance."
"Was anyone hurt?"
"Not really," Ingrid said, sweeping an arm at the staff behind her. Some had a few bruises or cuts, but most were no worse for wear. "Seems they wanted a peaceful transition of power."
"Tough luck for them," Felix said, kicking one of the corpses. He turned to the baron, who had two spears trained on him. "Lock him in the cellar. I'll decide what to do with him later."
As the pair of guards carried the baron out of the room, Ingrid grabbed Felix's sleeve. "You're hurt."
He shrugged her off. "It's not deep."
Erik quietly stepped out from behind Felix. "Hey there," Ingrid said, bending down to his level. "You've grown a bit since I last saw you. Remember me?"
He nodded. "Ingrid, right?"
"Yeah, before I went to the academy. You were what, eight, nine?"
"Can't forget me then," Sylvain said.
Erik studied him, his brow furrowed in thought. "Oh, yeah. Lech!" Then looked up at Felix. "Isn't it?"
Ingrid bit her tongue and stifled her laughter in her arm while Sylvain pursed his lips. "I suppose I might have deserved that." He eyed Felix with a clear message that they would have words later.
"We should join the search." Felix handed Erik to Ingrid. "Can you see him to his room and make sure he's safe first?"
"Sure," she said, her voice squeaking and tears in her eyes. "Make sure you get your arm looked at."
Felix patted his brother's shoulder. "I'll be back soon." Then he left the room with Sylvain and several volunteers.
They scoured the grounds until morning, but the assassin was long gone. None of the members of the house had even seen the man until last night and nobody recognized Felix's description of him. "Probably just a mercenary," Sylvain suggested.
That didn't satisfy Felix. "Just one though?" He winced as Ingrid cleaned his wound and tied a fresh bit of cloth on it. "Mercenaries usually travel in companies."
"Maybe his last company was wiped out and he was between jobs."
"But why hire just one mercenary then? Why not a whole outfit?"
The baron didn't shed any more light when Felix, Ingrid, and Sylvain interrogated him. "I don't know who he is, I swear. He showed up and offered to help us take control of Fraldarius land."
"In exchange for what?" Felix asked.
"He didn't tell us exactly what. One moment, please," he begged as Ingrid pointed her spear at the baron's nose. "I think it had something to do with the king."
"King Dimitri?"
"Yes. He spoke of continuing the war. Something about a mission to do with 'the goddess' children.' I don't know anything beyond that."
Felix didn't doubt him, but he wasn't sure what all the business about the goddess' children or the war had to do with any of this. However, they needed to warn Dimitri about these strange events with all haste.
Once they left the cellar, he drafted a letter and summoned a messenger, giving explicit instructions to put that letter in Dimitri's hands. "No one else, understand?"
"Yes, my lord," he said, leaving quickly.
"What do you plan to do now?" Ingrid asked.
"Wait for the boar to receive my letter and go meet with him," he said. "Until then, I'll take my title as Lord Fraldarius. Do you two mind staying for another day? I need at least two people to sign as witnesses for it this afternoon."
Sylvain's eyes widened. "You're doing it today? You're not going to plan it out or have a traditional ceremony?"
"The sooner, the better. I'm not one for tradition anyway. You may as well get some sleep until then." He waved over another servant and asked them to show Ingrid and Sylvain to the guest rooms. Then he went off to find Erik.
His brother was holed up in his own bedroom, his eyelids drooping as though he had been awake all night. "You should really get some sleep," Felix said, checking the windows. Locked tight.
"I will," he said, biting down a yawn. "You didn't find him, did you?"
Felix shook his head and sat on the bed. "No. Do you know who he was?"
Erik shrugged. "I only saw him last night. He didn't speak to me." He played with his hands for a moment and looked up at Felix. "Thanks for coming."
"You needed help. I wasn't about to let them take over."
"Why?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Why what?"
"Why would it matter if they took over? You always said you didn't care about the Fraldarius title." In that moment, Erik appeared the spitting image of Rodrigue, even more so than Glenn. His steely blue eyes fixed Felix with the same nobility their father had. And Felix was swiftly transported back to the days after Glenn's death, when he and his father had fought frequently about it.
"It was his choice," Rodrigue had said. "We should honor it."
"You're glorifying it," Felix had shot back.
"No, I am respecting his sacrifice," he said. "That is the duty of any of us, to serve as the Shield of Faerghus. He was a noble knight."
And then Felix had swung, leaving his father gobsmacked and rubbing his bruised cheek as Felix stormed from the manor.
"Felix?"
He blinked and his father's face dissolved into Erik's. "Because they would have killed you all the same. I'm sure of it. I'm not going to let that happen."
"I'm glad they didn't kill you. They kept saying they would get you."
"They were out of their league against me."
Erik smiled. "That's true. It was like watching father fight. You were so quick."
Felix didn't respond. He merely pulled the blanket up higher on his brother's chest. "Get some sleep."
"Will you stay for a while?"
He nodded. It didn't take long for Erik to fall asleep. The dark circles under his eyes betrayed more than one late night. No doubt the baron and his ilk had kept him secluded for days, threatening him or spreading lies that they merely wanted a peaceful takeover. Although there may have been truth to that. They certainly could've killed Erik at any point, even if it would have brought down more trouble on their heads.
If that had happened though, Felix wasn't sure how he would've reacted. Angry, certainly, and the baron would've felt the full extent of his wrath. But afterwards? He wasn't sure.
When Glenn had passed, Felix had been upset. Mostly at the senselessness of it all. The Tragedy at Duscar had sent shockwaves throughout the kingdom that were still felt to this day. He had wanted revenge on the perpetrators and considered Glenn's choice sheer folly. Honor and a knight's duty. That's all Glenn ever went on about and Felix was certain that had played a part in his untimely demise.
Rodrigue, on the other hand, had taken the opposite approach and placed his son's sacrifice on a pedestal. One of the many reasons they never saw eye to eye, but as he had realized later, it was his father's own way of mourning.
And then Rodrigue was gone too. Felix had had no time to mourn. The war demanded his attention and participation, so all he could do was cut a swath through the enemy ranks to ease his grief.
Now all Felix had left was Erik. He very easily could've lost him and that thought seemed to settle on his chest like a lead weight. He hadn't cared about his house over the years and now that he looked it, half of it was gone.
Erik snored softly beside him and Felix sighed. He had only meant to take the Duke title begrudgingly as a way to end the hostilities around them. However, a certain compulsion welled in his stomach, like an oath he felt bound to. And with a clucking tongue, he noted that it was not unlike his father whispering in his ear about his duty.
He glanced at the side table beside the bed, noting the parchment and ink pots on it. The title wasn't the only compulsion inside him that needed to be quenched. Sitting down at the table, he picked up a quill, determined to finish the letter to Annette and send it out that day, no matter how bad or awful it sounded.
The trip to Garreg Mach took almost no time at all. Then again, the Faerghus army no longer had to move at a careful pace, watchful for any ambush or pincer attack to rout and destroy them. Not to mention the mood was much more jovial and lively, as soldiers joked with one another and a hopeful smile for a better future decorating those refugees who had wanted to accompany them.
There was even time for certain people to become closer with one another. The king hardly left the professor's side, both of them constantly bowing their heads close together and grinning like they were a couple of school children. Annette hadn't seen that side of Dimitri in a long time, not since the academy, not since before they lost the professor for five terrible years. Her reappearance and presence seemed to revive the old Dimitri.
And then there was Mercie. She had tried her best to hide her own romances from Annette, but had failed. Although Annette spent the last couple of days and most of the trip by her father, she had caught Mercedes stealing away to areas unknown when they camped or when they stopped for a short break. She often returned humming a melody, not a care in the world. A few times, she reappeared with flushed cheeks and crumpled clothes. And every time she disappeared, no one could find Dedue either.
Even now, as they approached the tall stalwart gate of Garreg Mach, little glances and coquettish smiles passed between the two. Annette now knew how Mercedes felt scheming and gossiping about her. It's only fair to return the favor.
"You sure seem distracted lately," she said, pulling her horse beside Mercedes. "Someone on your mind?"
Immediately, Mercedes' stiffened and kept her head upright and pointed forward as they rode through the gate. Annette giggled and waggled her eyebrows at her friend. Oh, yeah. I could get used to this.
"Not really," Mercedes said. "But enough about me. What about you? Heard from Felix?"
"Nope. And I don't care." That wasn't entirely true. She had waffled back and forth on the issue, much to her frustration, and held out a little faith to receive some correspondence from him before they left, but nothing came. No letter or messenger. She had resolved to forget about the whole ordeal and she meant it.
"Now about you. What do you plan to do after the ceremony?" She hopped off her horse, guiding it to the stables with Mercedes. "Maybe take a trip?"
"Maybe," Mercedes said slowly, her eyes narrowing.
"Why not to Duscar? I hear it's lovely this time of year."
Mercedes immediately covered her friend's mouth, dropping the reins and shushing her loudly. Unfortunately, her horse seemed to be waiting for that, as he stamped his feet and seemed ready to trot off. Mercedes reached for the reins, but the horse whinnied and tossed its head, keeping them out of her reach.
Thankfully, Dedue snatched the reins, guiding the horse down and back to Mercedes. "Easy, easy," he said softly, stroking the horse's neck. He held out the reins to her. "Here. You should keep a good hold on him."
"Thank you," she said, taking the reins. Their hands remained together though as they stared into one another's eyes. From the side, Annette watched, pleased that she had been one hundred percent right. And as the secret couple finally parted and Mercedes noticed Annette, they both understood two things.
One, Annette was happy for the pair. Between Dimitri and Byleth, and Mercedes and Dedue, she was pleased that her friends were finding comfort and love in one another. Deep down, it was difficult for her. While she continued to put on a brave face about the situation with Felix, she wished she had the chance to experience the same tender relationship everyone else was going through.
Two, while they were at Garreg Mach, Annette planned to tease Mercedes relentlessly about her clandestine affair.
Rhea and her entourage arrived at Garreg Mach the very next day. She spared little time for pleasantries, already making preparations for the ceremony to install Byleth as the new archbishop within a few days' time.
The exact nature of the ceremony was kept hidden from those at Garreg Mach, outside of the Blue Lions and those other select few already privy to the situation. A general buzz grew among the people though, especially as more arrived from surrounding towns and villages, curious as to the purpose after word spread of "a celebration and important announcement."
Rumors and speculations ran wild, from some divine message from the Goddess to more secular predictions such as a merger between the church and the kingdom. Although if the little flirtations and displays of affection between Dimitri and Byleth were any indication, that one could likely happen.
The day of the ceremony, Rhea sequestered Byleth in her room all day. Annette waited with her father and the rest of the Blue Lions outside the sanctuary, where people had been waiting since the crack of dawn.
"Where's Dimitri?" she asked, scanning the sea of faces.
"Rhea asked for him too," Ashe said. He, Mercedes, and Gustave sat with her on a bench, watching the commotion. "And of course, Dedue insisted on accompanying him."
Among the crowd, Annette was surprised to see some of the other former houses and those from the Abyss milling about. Mercedes quickly excused herself to say hello to Yuri and some others, while Ashe greeted Petra and Marianne, leaving Annette with her father.
"Are you ready to leave afterwards?" he asked her.
She nodded. She hadn't really unpacked after they arrived, as they had both planned to return home immediately after the ceremony. She didn't want to let her mother worry any longer about their safe return.
Soon, the aging sanctuary doors creaked open and the excited throng of people filed in. Seats were reserved up front for the Blue Lions and some of the knights, including Gustave.
Rhea approached the dais and pulpit at the head of the sanctuary. Seteth, Dimitri, and Byleth followed, while Dedue and Flayn watched from the side. The professor was fashioned similar to Rhea in a black and white gown, adorned with a royal violet cape. Annette giggled, as Byleth had a grimace that seemed to scream she would be much more at home in her mercenary attire.
Much of the rubble in the sanctuary had been cleared away, but crumbling walls and holes still pockmarked the area, complete with scaffolding and masonry tools. Yet, as if planned, the sun shone through a particular hole in the roof, bathing Rhea in its light and capturing the audience's attention as she looked around the room.
"My children," she opened her arms wide and smiled. "It's so wonderful to see you all here again. It has been far too long since we last met and we have all suffered too much heartache from this terrible war."
She put on a brave front, but Annette spotted the cracks already starting to form in her appearance. Rhea leaned forward, gripping the pulpit tightly and supporting herself. Outside the Blue Lions and a few members of the other houses, the audience didn't notice and listened attentively.
"But after these five long years, with the Goddess' blessing and the talent and strength of our new Faerghus king," she gestured to Dimitri, who bowed and received one from her, "I'm pleased to declare that the war is over."
Cheers and cries of praise rose up from the audience, shaking the sanctuary walls. Rhea raised her hands for everyone to settle down and continued. "We have much cause to celebrate, as this will be a new chapter in all our lives and across all of Fodlan. A time not of strained relationships, but one of peace."
She looked around at the crowd and sighed. "It is why I feel it best that another, more capable individual lead you into this new era." Mutters ran throughout the audience and Annette sensed a growing panic.
Again, Rhea called for silence. "This war has taken a toll on each of us, myself included. I'm afraid I'm no longer in a position to lead you good people at this time. But, please, listen to me!" She had to shout over the worried voices building to a lament. Already, she was having trouble holding herself up, her arms shaking on the pulpit. People were hopping to their feet, pleading for her to reconsider.
Byleth was at her side, surreptitiously helping her stand straight under her robes. They exchanged a nod and Rhea addressed the crowd. "This was not unexpected. After all, eventually, I would have had to step down. It's only sooner than I expected. Which is why I intend to leave you in the most capable hands possible."
She stepped aside, allowing Byleth to join her at the pulpit. "I will still be here to assist with the transition. But I fully believe in this one to lead you well. Just as we have all trusted her on the battlefield, let us now trust her to lead us in the dawn of this new era."
The crowd seemed to ease at her choice candidate. The bubble of tension that had hung over all their heads deflated and Annette rested easy in her seat.
"With the Goddess' blessing, I present to you your new archbishop." Rhea let Byleth fully take the pulpit and wave to the crowd, while she took Seteth's proffered arm. Once the noise died down, they dismissed the audience for the celebration in the dining hall.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay?" Gustave asked Annette as they headed to the stables and retrieved their horses.
"Yes, I've already said farewell to everyone. And I'm sure I'll see them again all too soon."
They led their horses to the front gates, where a messenger rushed in, drawing his horse short as he entered the monastery grounds. He clutched a scroll in his hand, spotted Gustave, and dashed over to him.
"Sir!" he saluted. "Have you seen the king? I have a message for him."
"Likely in the dining hall," Gustave said, pointing behind them. The soldier thanked him and rushed off.
A couple hours after they left, another messenger rode hard past them, heading for the monastery. "Guess word got around quick?" Annette wondered aloud.
Her father shrugged. "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. Now, we'd better get going." He flicked the reins, urging his horse on, and Annette followed suit, heading for home.