*Shrine (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild OST)

**Untold Despair (Tales of Symphonia OST)

***Mountain Village (The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask OST)

****Ambient blizzard sounds

*****Doomed Mission/The Ing Attack (Metroid Prime 2: Echoes OST)

******For Victory (FE9 OST)

*******Caineghis, King of Lions (FE10 OST)

* The young upstart sighed in frustration at his elders. "And I plea to you once again," he reiterated. "there are a number of things simply...untoward about the power Selenos is offering this young man!"

One of the elder dragons scoffed. "What concern of it is yours, hatchling? Loyalty in exchange for our aid has always been an essential part of our dealings with humans. I swear, you young ones reach a couple thousand years, think they've got it all figured out."

"I'm well aware of that, Sir Hudatos. However, you cannot earnestly believe that any human, even an unusually-powerful one, has any business with this kind of power. I would go so far as to say that it doesn't belong in our world."

"Ha! Again with the exaggeration! He probably learned it from those two hags that raised him."

The upstart was becoming rather annoyed, yet still remained calm, essential for making his case. "Or Sir Puros; do you disagree that Selenos has changed recently?"

The second elder remained silent, as if briefly lost in thought. "I always took it as him blowing off steam, but he HAS carried through with his threat to abandon council meetings as of late."

The third elder, while not to the extent of his counterpart, still remained skeptical. "Suppose Selenos is behaving untowardly in his dealings with the humans. What exactly does the young one propose to do about it? It's not as if he'll simply join us for a friendly chat."

By now, the upstart was beginning to feel some optimism; as though the elders were somewhat more open to his proposal. "Of course, Sir Anemos, I do not intend you all to take me solely at my word. Lord Moro, I appeal to you directly for a dispensation; allow me to prove, without a doubt, that the power Selenos is granting this youth simply does not belong in this world. Allow me to journey beyond this world and prove the origin of these evil powers."

The great Astral Dragon remained silent for a moment at this request. "Hmm...that is not a request I can grant lightly, my child. However, since it is YOU making the request, knowing fully well the complications..."

"Oh, come on!" groused Hudatos. "You can't seriously be considering this-"

"Very well, I accept your plea. With this said, I shall summon Selenos to hear his side shortly. However, you know the laws better than any of your kin."

"Of course, milord." said the youth respectfully. "I'm well-aware of the potential disasters that come of meddling in the affairs of other worlds."

"May fortune favor you, young Anankos."*

**Having made their camp on a ridge just outside of the heavy forests of southern Hoshido, Candace and the Flame Tribe's twin warriors and their search for hide or hair of Princess Hinoka, while never perceived as an endeavor with a high chance of success to begin with, was nonetheless one they were all duty-bound (or at least contract-bound) to carry it out to the best of their ability. However, the months-old rumors of an impending conflict and one particular sight informed one of the twins of a fundamental desire- to avoid capture by the Nohrians at all costs.

"What the...what the everloving fuck is this?!" Daisen inquired, outrage flaring in his voice and eyes at once.

"It's one of them 'ranches' those Nohrian bigshots seem to be pretty fond of setting up." informed Candace grimly.

Daisen's grip on the club at his side became almost painful as he witnessed a pair of those oddly-clad Nohrian soldiers calmly and coldly slaughter the mass of "livestock" for some imagined offense or another. "I thought it was just them being arrogant fucks- but this is just sick!"

Candace shrugged lightly. "Never said it ain't, but-"

"What do you really think we can do about it right now?" Hakone posed irritably. "I know you want to storm in first and ask questions later, but-"

"But-"

"The only thing you would succeed in doing is getting ourselves and a good number of those people killed. We've got our orders; find some sign of Princess Hinoka. Now after that, we'll see."

Her twin kicked a clump of dirt in impotent rage. "Fine, you've got a point, sis." he conceded bitterly. "But when that day comes, I don't care if I have to blow myself up, those fuckers aren't taking ME alive."

Even as her twin companions settled into an unsettled sleep, Candace could not help but notice something untoward- shrieks of pain and anguished even more acute than the ones emanating from the ranch- instead, the screams, a woman's from the sound of them emanating from the Nohrian camp down the road from the ranch. She had been around enough to know that this could not be- and was impossible to be a sign of anything good at all. But not even the inquisitive bandit could have foreseen just how relevant said screaming fits would be to their mission and all of their fates.**

***While he'd quite a bit of practice by this point in time, the gloves favored by his tribesmen in this region irritated Naeba a good deal at first. He'd no clue how the crazy bastards in the Ice Tribe did it, as their homeland was supposed to be even more forbidding. Nonetheless, people will go to great lengths for their religious beliefs and members of his nation were no different.

He hailed from quite a ways south himself, near the Flame Tribe's main settlement, but marital and familial ties had bought him north to the White Mountain and the surrounding peaks; where the "end" of winter simply meant a stop to the worst of the blizzards- usually. But then again, Naeba thought as he observed the few trails from his perch- an outcropping overlooking the the white, hostile terrain below, this could actually work to their advantage.

"My inspection is complete, sir!" reported his adjutant dutifully.

"At ease, Meakan. How go our preparations?"

The young man swallowed nervously. "Well, since we'll have blunted most of the enemy's advantages with the terrain, we should be in a good position to hold them off. We should, anyway."

"Wait, why only 'should?' What do our supply stockpiles look like by now?"

"Not good, sir. Not good at all. As we both know, armies march and defend on their stomachs, but what of the people they protect?"

Naeba cursed to himself; given the temple located on Mount Haku itself was the center of tribal religion in this area (and a natural fortress at that), it stood to reason that Nohr would covet it for the mineral resources (just as always), so morale was high in spite of the conditions. But scores of volunteers from town, the only settlement of any size on the mountain, both young and middle-aged, in addition to trained warriors, created its own problems. Ever since he'd joined his wife and her family out here, even on the coldest nights, the sound of the wind comforted him, even on the bitterest of nights. But now? Naeba could only hear its harshness mocking him and the desperation of their people.

"Detach an escort party from our main body, bows and casters mainly." commanded Naeba. "Have them escort the women, the children, and elderly to the temple. Anyone unable to fight. They should be able to survive until we can either stop the Nohrian advance, help can arrive from the south, or both."

"But sir?!" inquired Maekan incredulously. "Have you no faith in our warriors? You'd rather throw material and men at a journey like this instead of halting the enemy? Besides, it would be a death march in these conditions!"

The elder raised a judging eyebrow. "And leaving them to fall under Nohrian control would not be? Or even worse?"

The look of terror and disgust upon the face of his subcommander, as well as the light bow at the waist, told Naeba his orders would be carried out to the letter.

She'd had scarce little exposure to it, thank the gods, but a mere couple of days in the southeastern mountains reminded Corrine of one very important thing- she absolutely despised snow and freezing weather. No elixir, no covering, no shelter, no secret recipe seemed to make a difference, exactly as with the Ice Tribe. Perhaps it had something to do with the whole dragon thing?

Both she and other Nohrian commanders had previous experience with well-trained, highly-motivated enemies with (usual) numerical superiority, true. But in conditions like these? At the foot of the range, it was still freaking spring! And the narrow approaches, poor footing, and literally-freezing weather all took a toll, to say nothing of the terrain advantage held by the enemy.

Of course, one thing had no other option but to make her blood run hot- even with her muscles sluggish from the cold, the inevitable first meeting of the enemy in battle; the tribe's skirmish-scouting party having holed up in an abandoned hamlet a good two stories above the beaten path saw the Nohrian forces at a disadvantage, to say the least. An almost-continuous hail of arrows, spells, and massive snowballs (or the occasional boulder disguised as such) deployed to block escape routes, all conspired to make the affair far costlier in casualties than it should have been; even as Corrine dispatched warrior after warrior, their space to maneuver only seemed to lessen.

In fact, the only reason they managed a breakout when they did was a courageously-foolhardy maneuver by Ira where she broke through one of the frozen barriers, leaping up and beginning to hack and slash at the bowmen and casters with her concealed blade, giving the rest of the unit the chance to start up the other path, dealing with their counterparts on the opposing outcropping.

As the enemy was vanquished and the adrenaline ceased flooding her system, even over the men's celebrations, Corrine was, once again, made very aware of the sound of her teeth chattering at the cold, cursing to herself that the sun (for all its visibility, which was almost nonexistent) seemed largely past the horizon.

"How much longer til we reach where we're going, princess?" inquired one pikeman, holstering his weapon in favor of a knife.

"I-I couldn't tell you." she said honestly. "Sir Armin insisted we were to advance at full speed- what the hell are you doing, soldier?!"

Crouched over a deceased Flame Tribe warrior, the pikeman began to hack away at the deceased's face as he muttered assorted curses and slurs. "Fucking fanatics." he said, finally settling on gouging out his still-opened eyes. "Just making it so they can't go onto their spirit world, princess. Animals have it coming, far as I'm concerned. Y'know they pray to their 'god,' so that he'll drag his scaly arse out of their mountain and burn us all to death, right?"

"Yep," agreed another soldier, his "necklace" of trophies lined with severed ears. "it's even worse with the rice-grubbing slants. They think if they kill one of us, they get a whole harem of Nohrian virgins in the afterlife! No wonder my brothers over there and their buddies cut off the savages' pricks after they waste 'em!"

Corrine sighed, physically and psychologically exhausted by the conditions as well as their ambiguous situation regarding an advance. "I'd better not catch either of you doing anything like this again." she threatened halfheartedly.

The enemy's dignity or all of their lives? Perhaps it was the cold getting to her, but even for Corrine, this time, it was little choice; however, the sight of four of her men holding down a severely-wounded, immobile warrior, one of them literally attempting to forcibly extract a gold tooth from his mouth, disgusted (for a number of reasons) her more than anything, driving her blade through the poor bastard's heart in an act of mercy.

Her colleague, on the other hand, was probably an even more prolific pillager than the men under her command; when the princess accosted Ira, she was in the process of literally severing a warrior's lifeless finger in pursuit of the ring on it. "What do you want?" the brunette asked nastily. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Aren't you cold at all?" inquired Corrine, recoiling in horror at her counterpart's tattered excuse for clothing.

"Nope, not at all."

"Anyway, that's not important right now. There's no way we can continue on, we'll have to make camp here for the night."

Irritated at being interrupted and her quarry failing to slide from the severed extremity, Ira's nostrils flared. "Why the fuck shouldn't we? That Armin prick said 'with all due speed,' right? Besides, we've got at least an hour before sundown, how much farther can this village really be?"

"And if they have another ambush waiting for us? You really want to risk being pinned down AND exposed like we just were? At night, no less?"

***Ira gave a huff of defeat. "Fine, fine, we'll do it YOUR way."

****For all the complaints about her leadership, one of the things for which Corrine was genuinely revered was her down-to-earth nature, thinking nothing of dining with her soldiers or helping to set up camp; granted, given the poor taste her previous interactions with Ira had left in her mouth and the very immediate prospect of a warm fire, made this not especially selfless on her part. Fortunately, the huts and lean-tos erected by the previous occupants made this go somewhat more smoothly, setting aside a few of the former for treatment of the wounded. By the time the sun had retreated under the horizon, her unit had managed to erect a makeshift encampment; if the enemy marshaled the forces to overrun it, they were likely out of luck, but shelter and heat in these conditions proved figurative and literal lifesavers for many, as the harsh winds only seemed to pick up the darker it became.

Shrouded in a blanket and entranced by the barely-audible crinkling of the fire before her, Corrine tried simply to physically separate herself from the horrid conditions, instead focusing on the positives that would come of her completing the mission. "Want the rest of my soup, princess?" inquired the soldier sitting next to her. "I'm not a big fan of potato."

"No thank you -hachoo-!" answered Corrine "I'm just not hungry."

The soldier sitting directly across from the fellow scowled at him. "You're just giving food away?" he asked dismissively. "We've got to make this last, you know. Gods only know how long the resupply column will take getting up here. We could basically end up eating each other before that happens."

The face of the man directly to his left suddenly lit up. "Hey, speaking of which, why don't we tell some savage stories?! You know, take our minds off of it?"

The men murmured in general agreement. "Good idea, Weber." said his neighbor to the right. "Revel's always got some good ones."

****The man sitting directly opposite Corrine (noticed by the princess only due to a slightly-larger-than-average-frame and his bushy black eyebrows), stood up and cleared his throat dramatically. ***** "Alright, a buddy of mine's stepbrother in slant country saw it all with his own eyes about six or so months ago," prefaced Revel just as dramatically. "The guy's brigade was pursuing some of the rats into some little podunk village and the surrounding woods. Everything's normal so far, right? So the locals start getting uppity and our boys take care of business in response. Needless to say, THOSE savages won't be bothering the decent people of the world ever again."

Whether due to actual, wholehearted agreement with the actions, a face-saving measure due to the implicit peer pressure, delirium from the early onset of hypothermia, or some combination of the factors, the most of the nine non-Corrine souls around the fire chuckled with varying degrees of sincerity, Revel resuming after a pause to indulge his vanity before continuing. "Anyway, so they make camp and everything's going fine. Boring, but normal. For three days, no news was good news. But on the third night, a full moon-"

"Oh, gods, what, what?" whined the soldier to Corrine's right, reflexively invading her personal space. "What happened?!"

The storyteller grinned darkly. "Well, in the middle of the night, their commander was woken by a horrible screech. He thought it was just an owl or something; cause it damn sure wasn't something that a normal human could make. But then, just before he could go back to his tent- on the overlooking hills and in the woods- Savages! Savages everywhere! Hundreds of them, thousands of them! Cursing, raving, foaming at the mouth! 'Oh, gods, we need backup, they're everywhere!' cried one his swordsmen before a savage pounced on him, ripped his beating heart from his body and devoured it whole! His buddy next to him cut down a bunch of 'em before they managed to overrun him- few seconds later, all that was left was a pile of bones, his armor and sword!"

Muttering and chattering fearfully, a couple of the men looked to be well on their way to being physically ill; Revel perhaps was getting some sort of twisted amusement out of concocting the most lurid story possible. "It was the most horrible thing the guy had ever seen!" he exclaimed. "After our guys could fight any longer, savages feasting on their flesh and guts, gouging out still-living men's eyes, raping, tearing off flesh, laughing and rejoicing as they did it!"*****

Seating himself back down to the terrified murmurs of his fellows, Revel crossed his arms. "Yep, just like dear old dad always said. It's gonna be either them or us." he said assuredly.

The soldier to Corrine's left scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Bull-fucking-shit." he remarked, most underwhelmed by the tale. "You guys believed him? Really?"

Needless to say, such an observation did not earn the man much favor among his fellows.

"What the fuck, Metzger?!"

"What'd he say that was so wrong?"

"You some kinda savage-lover, Metzger?!"

"Why don't we drop him in the middle of savage country! See how he feels then!"

"It sounds pretty mundane for what those animals usually get up to to me."

"What's so unbelievable about it?"

Metzger growled in frustration, counting off his reasons with his fingers. "Since I have a brain and choose to use it. Sure, it was believable until he got to the flesh-eating, raping part. After that, just- -ugh- and that he got it third-hand? Come on!"

The dirty, irritated glances at Metzger notwithstanding, it was perhaps unsurprising that once Ira's adjutant made his rounds, handing out assignments, Metzger was "volunteered" by his fellows for signal duty; namely, remaining awake for the better part of the night, in the freezing cold, tending to signal fires to beacon reinforcements.

******Chief Kikai's impending summit by the mountainside saw the chance for Hana and Sakura to meet new faces, as well as reunite with old ones, all of them rather interesting. "So, you're back." greeted Kikai with a wide grin. "And in one piece too!"

"It's just like I told you, Chief Kikai," Hana answered sunnily, handing off the odd, foreign garb back to Amagi. "she gives me an order, I follow through."

"Y-yes," confirmed Sakura mousily, her eyes darting about the representatives of the various peoples as opposed to their hosts. "Hana's e-extremely dependable. I-I'd rely on no one else b-before her."

Uttering his first word to a non-Kikai soul in weeks, Amagi raised an eyebrow. "Something troubling you, young one?"

"N-not at all, S-sir Amagi-" fibbed Sakura.

Rinkah however, noticing the general positions of the other representatives and the general direction of Sakura's gazes, spoke up. "If you're still worried about those two fuckers from when you first came around, don't be." she insisted. "Trust me, nearly all of these guys and gals have even less love for Nohr than you or Hana."

Indeed, confirmation of this was forthcoming within minutes as Flora and her guardian made the rounds in the course of their introductions. "Princess Sakura," she began formally. "I am Flora, heiress of the Ice Tribe. This is my man, Florian. He's the only reason I've survived this journey so far."

Mildly taken aback at how she'd been known without any sort of introduction, Sakura nonetheless politely bowed. "A p-pleasure to meet you, Lady Flora." she picked up timidly. "This is-"

Florian, on the other hand, seemed to be at least somewhat familiar with Sakura's protector. "So are the rumors true?" he inquired, a childlike anticipation in his tone. "Did you really burn a whole Nohrian army alive?"

"Technically, yes," Hana replied, as if he was inquiring about her having a second head. "but it was more a team effort with-"

The normally-sullen Florian's face lit up as he shook the swordswoman's hand "Oh, man! You are my freaking hero, woman! It's been my life's dream to give those bastards a black eye like that! Say, I've been hearing some Nohrians talking about how their army in your capital was destroyed by some kind of 'demon' little less than a year ago. By any chance, was that also-"

"Yeah, it was. But I don't think you'd believe me if I told you the whole story. I scarcely even believe it."

Sakura and Flora remaining in the vicinity while breaking off into a separate conversation, Florian chuckled giddily. "You must be a living legend in your country!"

Hana simply shrugged. "I was just doing my job." she half-fibbed. "It was only kind of personal; they wanted to take Lady Sakura from us and that was unacceptable."

Florian's expression was now drained of any of its previous levity. "Well, it's real personal for me. Who'd they take from you before?"

"My father, my uncle, a good part of the population of my home province."

Florian scrunched his eyebrows. "I feel you there, same here. Except with me, it was a bunch of men and boys from our town, all of my father's brothers, and my own, older and younger alike. I'll spare you the gory details, but I was the only survivor. So, yeah, it's real personal for me."

Hana lurched backward slightly. "Oh, gods, it really IS personal! If I were you, I don't think I'd be able stop myself from killing every Nohrian I came across."

Florian smirked darkly. "Well, it's an acquired skill, to say the least. But there's one Nohrian I insist on killing, even if it's the very last thing I do; their commander, that horseman in the demonic black armor. That fucker's sorry excuse for a life is mine, no questions asked."

The swordswoman nodded, a very particular individual in mind. "I can respect that. There are some people in the world who just need killing."

However, not all the introductions proceeded so smoothly; Tristan dismounting his wyvern's back in a nearby clearing, Hana gave a respectful nod of acknowledgement as she and her lady passed by. "So you know these weirdos?" Lupina inquired. "They're supposed to have Nohr running for their mothers with their tails between their legs? They don't look so tough."

"Yes, and for your information, I literally owe these 'weirdos' my life. My aunt would say the exact same."

Motioning the pair over, Sakura, while somehow hesitant, followed suit. "Ladies, this is Lupina, Chieftainess of the Wolfskin." introduced Tristan. "She might look scary, but she's usually harmless."

Lupina grinned toothily. "Until you harm my people, that is." she corrected, extending one of her large, vaguely paw-like hands. "And you must be the princess."

"Y-yes," Sakura confirmed, unsure how exactly to respond to the gesture. "Th-this is Hana, my w-woman."

Glancing up and down Hana's lithe, muscular frame (in a manner that made the princess somewhat uncomfortable), the chieftainess seemed slightly impressed. "Well, I guess you Hoshidans aren't as soft as we've thought you are, huh?"

The swordswoman, already in a rather tense mood, scowled at the dismissive remark and Tristan rolled his eyes. "Come on, Lupina, show a little class." he insisted tiredly, tossing a large slab of roasted meat to a very grateful Heath. "Apart from us, they're almost certainly the people who've been fighting Nohr the hardest."

The wolfish woman scoffed. "Heh, classless? 'Classless' would be me pointing out a term we often put after 'Hoshidan' can mean a cat- among other things."

While the comment went well over Sakura's head, Hana's face reddened slightly at the insulting comparison.

The afternoon also held reunions with old acquaintances as well; given all that was transpiring, those caught up in their own conversations scarcely noticed a lone pegasus touching down, its master, a slight man of twenty or so with soft features and narrow eyes, dismounting the beast and thanking the stablekeepers for their help.

"Princess Sakura," he began politely. "it is truly a relief to see you alive and well."

With this Hana, squealed in delight, embracing the man as if she were her own brother. "Jun! I've been so worried!"

The man chuckled, tousling the swordswoman's locks. "I could have said the same, but maybe I didn't need to; you've just shot up since I last saw you!"

"Erm, Hana..." began Sakura apprehensively (perhaps somewhat jealously as well). "Who is-"

The man suddenly winced, recalling his breach of etiquette, going down on his knee. "Oh, of course, where are my manners. I am Junichiro, Lord Takeshi's man. I was sent to represent him before Chief Kikai."

"Yeah, Jun's really helped a lot over the years." Hana informed. "He's basically my brother too!"

Sakura swallowed nervously. "Oh, yes. O-of course."

Rinkah calling over the princess for advice on gastronomical accommodations for their Hoshidan guests, Sakura reluctantly humored her fiery counterpart briefly. For all her unconscious jealousy of the man, it was, interestingly enough, completely superfluous for one very specific reason. Inquiring about her mother, brother, and the state of Mutsu after her departure, a good deal of the light left Junichiro's expression as he recalled the tales of much hardship and loss, particularly for the common people upon whom the Nohrians would take out most of their frustrations. To say nothing of the bloodthirsty Nohrian folk hero and the actual fate ("Those other guys were right; the Nohrians ARE the real savages in this!") of her uncle and his ragged band of survivors.

"So I suppose there's no chance of you coming back to Mutsu with us?" Junichiro inquired.

"What do you think?" Hana asked distractedly, three-fourth's of her focus on the red-haired princess conversing with Rinkah and the chefs in the distance. "Of course I'm not leaving her side!"

Junichiro sighed tiredly. "Well, I knew that much before I even asked. You really do look at her like I would, well-"

"Yeah; it's just like if I called you away from my brother's side to help the resistance here."

While it was something both were quite tight-lipped about, Hana and her brother's retainer shared one thing- or situation, in common. "I suppose that's one of the possible dangers for people like us, so to speak." said Junichiro. "Or in our situation, I should say."

Hana sighed. "You could say that again." she answered sourly. "You had it easy; you didn't basically grow up with my brother."

"Maybe, maybe not. Takeshi never saw me in that way, as it were. Yayoi's a wonderful woman whose given him wonderful children and I wish them all the best. But the princess on the other hand..."

Recalling his business with the head of the Saizo clan, Junichiro bade his surrogate sister-slash-fellow-sufferer farewell and set off for the other side of the camp. Hana requesting her regards sent to her only remaining biological family, she quickly went to rejoin Sakura.

With the sun starting to dip in the west, the lodge's impromptu mess hall provided even more opportunities for shared revelations; Lupina wished to pay her regards to the aunt of Tristan's in question, Florian's lady was repeatedly forced to prevent him from berating the Flame Tribe cooks, while Rinkah took a much-needed break from scolding said cooks. Much as most who met him, the chieftainess was rather impressed by Shiro. "Aww, look at this little guy!" she cooed, playfully ruffling his blond locks. "Why'd you hafta flee from Cheve? Who could hate a face like this?"

Victoria sighed blankly. "Well..."

While omitting the absolute worst of ordeal, Victoria relayed the whole sordid tale of her daughter, the "sins" she'd committed with the prince and daring to give birth to their son and how their Nohrian "older brothers" saw fit to repay an "uppity cunt" like her; to say nothing of the abuse heaped on young Shiro (and by extension, those like him) for the "crime" of having the wrong father. While Sakura was quite distressed, only having heard a truncated version from Hana, the expressions from the other guests betrayed some combination of shock, horror, disgust, and confusion, more often than not leaning in one of the four directions.

"That's abominable!" Flora remarked. "And they would just come into your establishment and say things like that?"

"I'd asked Father countless times how a people comes to this way of thinking." Rinkah interjected. "He could never give me an answer- told me that's probably how they've always seen us 'savages' around them."

"Are these people from another freakin' planet?!" raged Lupina. "How the fuck does any healthy, sane person think like this?! Let alone a country full of them?! And who the fuck even cares who your nephew's father was anyway?!"

Florian shrugged, his own expression one of cold, silent fury. "Beats me." he remarked tersely. "But that would explain a lot if they were- now, if we COULD prove they were invaders from another world, maybe we could muster the stomach to finally-"

Horrified enough by Victoria's tales, Flora's turned her gaze to her guardian, her own expression one of disgust and disappointment, made clear with a single word of admonition. "Florian!"

"What?!" the champion protested, unusually defensive given his general brashness. "We were all thinking it! I just did it out loud!"

Still not feeling particularly charitable to the country or its people given the news bought by Junichiro, Hana crossed her arms across her chestplate. "I may not be the most well-informed girl, but I'm sure I'd have known about something like that in Hoshido. So would my uncle- he never said a word about it either way. Yeah, it'd be different, to have a non-Hoshidan parent, sure. But not really anything to get worked up over."

"Agreed." said Flora. "Plenty of our tribe's members have Nohrian ancestry, interestingly enough."

"That would not surprise me at all, seeing you would be considered somewhat closer to them culturally." boomed Amagi's voice from a shadowy corner (while the others recoiled, Hana and Sakura had long since ceased paying it any mind). "The same as we with Hoshido; hell, we'd probably have died out long ago had we not been."

A very distinct, derisive scoff emanated from the rafters of the great tent. "What'd you really expect from a people who think the world should be grovelling at their feet?" asked Saizo harshly.

Taking into account that skulking in the supports of others' accommodations was quite rude, his counterpart dismounted from her perch, landing gracefully at Hana's side. "If none of us know, perhaps it could be some vestigial cultural oddity?" Kagero suggested.

Amagi began to stroke his wild, bushy beard. "I suppose, young lady..." he began tentatively. "That's the only thing I can see, realistically. But the trait would have to be very old indeed. And to hold onto it that zealously for that long...?"

No sooner than each group member had managed to distance themselves from the rather disconcerting conversation and the great tent, did the very distinct sound of a gong echoing through the twilight sky sound across the impromptu campground. A respite of several seconds saw the sound repeat, along with Rinkah seeking out her Hoshidan counterpart, looking rather annoyed. "Come on, you guys!" she insisted. "That was the signal to gather!"

"Oh, of c-course!" Sakura exclaimed apologetically.

"Lead the way." Hana responded.

Surely enough, exactly as predicted, the guests had begun to assemble under the great tent, seated atop one of the cushions lined up in single-file rows, Kikai, obviously, was seated at the head of the room, his shadow remaining worthy of his epithet at his side. His counterparts of the other tribes being seated near him, Hana and Sakura, having little experience with the Flame Tribe's formal matters, took three of the empty cushions next to the Wolfskin chieftainess- much to her annoyance.

"Aw, geez, not you two again!" she hissed irritably.

"I-I'm sorry, ma'am," Sakura began. "But-"

"There was no space anywhere else!" Hana shot back. "Anyway, we were just following her lead-"

"Will you three be quiet?!" scolded Rinkah. "Father's about to start speaking!"

Rising from the cushion, the flame chief cleared his throat. ******* "Greetings, my friends! You have all traveled a great distance to answer my plea and I thank you for that fact! However, I wish I could call this a happy occasion, but this is not so, as we have a grave, grave threat to our nations to discuss."

"Yeah, fuck King Leonard! Fuck Nohr!" called one of Lupina's guards near the entrance, shortly being forcibly reseated by his fellows.

Visibly annoyed by the interruption, Kikai continued nonetheless. "From time immemorial, the Kingdom of Nohr has been somewhat of a...trying neighbor, to say the very least. But recently, said conduct has gone from merely belligerent, to simply monstrous. From their unprovoked invasion and reduction of our Hoshidan friends to literal slavery, to the abduction of entire clans from all our tribes for gods-only-know-what vile purposes, said behavior in recent months, despite all efforts to convince them to desist, has just escalated to the point of being completely intolerable."

"You could say that again!" cried one of Fuga's guards, earning him a rebuke from his superior.

However, Kikai, now truly in his element, paid it little mind. "It would be their business and their business alone if the Nohrians wished simply to venerate their new king, Leonard, as though he were a living god. However, that said king has made the attitude of himself and his nation to we 'savages' completely clear- submission or death. It would be little exaggeration to say their kingdom sees no allies or equals, only slaves or enemies, living or not. I cannot speak for the rest of you, but I have no interest in being a slave or a corpse simply for living in my homeland, tending to my people, practicing my religion- exactly as my fathers and mothers did before me!"

This declaration earned the chief a rousing cheer from the crowd, even those such as Flora and Fuga, who generally kept their subordinates on a tight leash, ceasing to even try calming the situation after several seconds.

When the cheer finally died down, Saizo, seeming oddly imposing (later revealed to have been standing on the backs of one of his subordinates), spoke. "And don't think it's going to be some cushy household servitude either." he remarked, outrage simmering beneath his tone. "What you have to look forward to is being literal livestock for them- at best!"

The crowd murmured in concern, terror, and outrage before simmering down several seconds later, the Ice Tribe's resident hothead apparently with a similar idea in his head, took the opportunity to expound upon his life's mission. "Let me tell you a little something about Nohrian 'heroism' from a boy who lived it- and just barely." said Florian, literally shivering with rage. "It's the kind of thing you only survive by playing dead among your slaughtered kinsmen. That horrid smell of burning hair and flesh-"

At this the crowd grew even more raucous with murmurs of disbelief, disgust, and shouts of outrage recalling similar indignities inflicted by the kingdom against themselves and their kin, even reaching the point where Kikai instructed his shadow to deliver several strikes to the gong at his side to drown out the din and restore order. "One thing however, has become painfully clear." continued Kikai. "Against our common enemy, we must either stand together, united to remove the threat to our nations and lives once and for all; or perish separately. Therefore, with these acts of war in mind, in the interest of securing a future- any future at all, for our children, I propose the creation of a formal alliance directed against the Kingdom of Nohr!"

Seating himself once more, the crowd broke once more into a round of raucous cheers, occasionally interspersed with taunts and curses directed at their obviously-absent mutual enemy. "We are on the cusp of a new day for our peoples, my esteemed guests. But I must urgently request your designated representatives come meet with me, as we have exceptionally-important business to discuss; while there will be war- a war which has been forced upon us, in time, tonight, my servants shall see you fed well, my friends!"

*******Explicitly called out by the conclusion of Kikai's speech, Sakura and her swordswoman shortly heeded the request and proceeded outside to the rear of the great structure; unsurprisingly, the other individuals in question, Flora and Florian, Fuga, Lupina, Tristan, Junichiro, Saizo and Kagero, had already gathered, assembled in a semi-circle before Kikai.

"Wow, Father!" said Rinkah proudly. "You really killed it with that speech!"

Kikai grinned tiredly. "Well I should have, seeing how much work it was to organize." he remarked. "But I must ask one last time and confirm; you are all committed to this course of action, yes?"

"You have my word, old friend." confirmed Fuga. "We may not be able to do much given our current situation, but we'll aid wherever we can."

"Bring it on." said Lupina, baring her teeth. "About time you lot took my advice, if I do say so myself."

"Hey, we've been fighting them for years already!" Tristan reminded. "So, of course we're in."

Her bodyguard almost quivering with anticipation, Flora's expression however, remained solemn. "Yes, our nation is united and ready to throw off Nohr's yoke." she half-lied.

"We either win or we die." Junichiro confirmed direly. "Let's choose the former, shall we?"

Kagero giving a murmur of confirmation, her counterpart slammed his fist against his palm. "Exactly." answered Saizo. "After we've dealt with this infestation, I'm gonna personally burn Windmire to the ground."

"Well, milady?" inquired Hana, as if waiting for a response.

Sakura felt her heart leap into her chest, particularly at the prospect of being deferred to on such a monumental, world-changing (one way or the other) decision. "Y-you're a-asking m-me?"

"Well, of course, why would we not?" inquired Kagero. "The princess regent must assent to any official acts of state, no?"

She'd not sought out such a lofty position, true- fate had simply thrust said role upon the young lady. And after all, with great power comes great responsibility, as she well knew. A gentle, sheltered person such as Sakura of course, feared greatly all the things which could possibly go wrong. Nonetheless, the horrible suffering she'd witnessed her own people subjected to, as well as others and her vow made with Hana concerning King Leonard's reign of terror back in Cheve, steeled her on, inhaling deeply. "V-very well." she confirmed. "We will do e-everything w-we can to-"

The girl swallowed nervously, knowing that, for better or for worse, this was a line that could not be uncrossed. "r-remove the t-threat from Nohr."

Precisely as the (other) enamored Hoshidan retainer had pointed out, with this pact, the die was cast; the alliance forged here would either rip out the heart of the empire threatening them all in victory or face complete, utter annihilation. Nonetheless, with this palpable tension in the air, it felt as if a certain weight was lifted from their collective shoulders; there was a certain heartening feeling to ancient, discordant nations putting aside their differences to meet a mutual and mortal threat to their freedom and (more often than not) very lives. But even before fighting started in earnest, there were still a number of practical issues to be worked out.

In a dank, ancient forest located in the northern reaches of the continent, a human-sized figure, rather unassuming save for the white shroud surrounding him, sighed in a combination of anxiety and anticipation before the ancient stone gate; a portal supposed to have been constructed by Lord Moro himself to keep in contact with the dragons of other worlds.

As tiny and fragile as they were, it was not exactly surprising that taking on a human form felt somehow...constricting to members of a certain draconic race, or any of them for that matter. However, it could not be denied that using such a form expended considerably less energy than that of their true forms. For the sake of journeying across the sea of space and time, he would shift back to his true form shortly after entering the gate. Taking a deep breath, as though about to plunge from a great height, Anankos took a couple of tentative steps towards the great energy field before his keen hearing detected a branch snapping underfoot, said foot not belonging to himself.

Turning to investigate the source of the noise, the foot's owner shortly revealed itself; an (apparent) pale, raven-haired young woman of thirty or so, her usually-radiant visage clouded with sorrow. "So...you're truly doing this...?" she inquired sadly. "Once you step through that gate, anything can happen..."

Anankos sighed. "I have no choice, Amaterasu." he reiterated. "If I did not truly feel that man, your brother's pet, was a danger to this world, I would stay here. But I must make my case- Lord Moro and the elders require proof of this otherworldly evil and so proof I will find."

"I see...Anankos, I apologize- for the council meeting. For not vouching for you, I mean."

"Hm, what do you mean?"

"I...failed to support you because I did not want to believe it, but you are correct. My brother- Selenos- he HAS changed. He was always passionate, true. You know that just as well as I do."

Heh, our debates and exchanges were always lively, no?"

"Yes, they were. But lately...he's been so sullen, secretive, and angry...I admit to fearing him greatly."

"And that's precisely the point of this little journey of mine. For all his flaws, I've always known Selenos to be a reasonable soul. Even if I do not find what I am looking for, I'm sure that once he appears before the elders and receives a stern talking-to, he'll see the error of his ways and we can put this all behind us."

"I hope you're correct...for all our sakes."

But the goddess would not need to travel worlds to witness firsthand what was so disconcerting to her fellow about her brother's 'pet', if you will.

He'd had a hard life, true. But while there was much hardship on these dunes, there was also much joy and camaraderie as well. The old village chief's heart wept not only for the horrible fates awaiting his people- the screams and pleas of men, women, and children alike, the galloping of the other tribe's steeds running down their crops and young alike. No, what hurt the chief, a warrior of renown in his youth, was his complete and utter powerlessness to stop any of it.

Nonetheless, clad in his tattered old armor and his old, but well-kept blade, the chief emerged from his dwelling, intent on leading a final stand against the marauders. "Alright, you bastards!" he challenged. "How 'bout you pick on some warriors instead of-"

The old chief was interrupted by his dwelling exploding in a mass of dark, purple flame, some possession of his or another acting as shrapnel to knock him on his stomach. Wounded, but still well enough to resist, the old man staggered to his hands and knees, only oriented by the imminent whinny of a solid black stallion and his master; he could not exactly get a good look at the man, but was well aware of the cruelty dripping from each and every syllable he uttered. "Heh, stupid old fool!" he scolded, dismounting his steed. "Did you really think you would stand a chance of resisting us?!"

One of his brown leather boots kicking the old chief in the face, the old warrior, landing on his backside, blade in hand, got a better look at his assailant; that he was considerably younger was a given (Twenty? Thirty years old? He could not really tell), but the most striking thing about their leader was not his great size (several heads taller than a normal man, in fact), nor the malevolent silver trident in his hand, but the pure malice and lust for power in his wicked yellow eyes.

"You bastard!" the old chief wheezed. "W-what makes you- What gives you the right?!"

The giant laughed evilly. "You don't appreciate just who I am, do you?"

Stomping over to the old chief, the brute kicked the blade from his reach before impaling him through the chest. "Once again, those with power, rule. Those who don't obey- or they die."

As the breath gradually left his lungs as a result of the injury, the old chief mourned that his people, young and old alike, should suffer such a fate, wondering what trick of the gods saw them cross paths with such a man- no, such a demon.