The sky was overcast. It had been for the past few days, but it was only now that Byleth paid any attention to it. After all, it was the first day that it looked like the sky was as dreary as they felt.
They were traveling, on their way to their next mission, given to them personally by Rhea. A local lord had started a rebellion against the Church, and they had been tasked to provide support to the unit that had been sent earlier.
Had that been the whole story, then Byleth wouldn't have felt morose as she did. No, it had to be that nearly everyone in her current retinue had some story to tell, some opinion of the lord - Lonato - that contradicted what Rhea had spoken about.
To some, he was a kind, just lord.
To others, he was a traitor to his land.
To one, he was a father.
"That denial of his is going to get him killed, you know?"
And for one other, he was just another job.
'Shut up.'
The Archer had joined them, and was walking with them. Though, not without a large gap in between him and the next closest person. Byleth had to admit, even just to herself, that the man made for an imposing sight.
Without any blood to cover it up, she could see his armor, or in the case of his chest, the lack thereof. Instead, it looked as if thick belts of liquid gold had flowed into the crevices of his form. They warped around him, forming a facsimile of a chestplate, one with too many holes.
Around his waist was a black half-coat, with the golden belts spilling from his back onto it. It made it look like the entire ensemble was fused onto the man. Byleth privately believed that. The Archer was insane enough to do so, she believed.
As for what he was talking about, she had to begrudgingly agree.
"There must be a mistake…"
Ashe was muttering to himself, glancing nervously at the surrounding trees. He seemed to be wrestling with his own thoughts, unable to shake off the unease that had settled in the pit of his stomach. She knew that he was struggling with the conflicting stories about Lord Lonato, and the man that he had known for a significant portion of his life.
"Should that be the case, then you don't have to worry about anything." While Byleth had been more than patient for Ashe, it seemed that Catherine had reached her breaking point. The professor understood, having been listening to Ashe talk for the better part of a few hours.
"If Lonato truly didn't do anything, and this was just some ploy by his enemies, then we'll likely not even need to do anything." Catherine continued, nodding to the distraught young man.
Catherine, the person leading their group, was as traditional of a knight as anyone she had seen. Honorable, charismatic, loyal. In her armor, and with her weapon, she looked and acted as if in a fairy tale.
"How noble." The Archer gave a slow clap, "Do you usually give such encouraging speeches, knight?"
And there was the reason why everyone avoided the Archer. Not because they were terrified by him - the Blue Lions had grown quite a bit, after their first mission, to the point where the Archer looked only disturbed to them - but because he and Catherine got along like water and oil.
"As if you would know anything about that." The woman scoffed, turning away from the man. This wasn't even the worst argument they'd had over the course of the trip. The worst one by far was the one that almost resulted in a physical fight, which led to the separation of the two. Not that it stopped the dark skinned man from spewing insults at the blonde.
"Focus, we're almost there." As with nearly every conversation after that debacle, Byleth had to intervene. A quick glance at her team, consisting of nearly the entire Blue Lions contingent. Thankfully, they hadn't lost anyone despite their pace and the fog.
As if on cue, Catherine looked around and nodded, "This should do for now." With a clap from her gauntleted fists, she called out to everyone, "Set up camp! We wait for the fog to roll back before we continue!"
"Why not press on?" Byleth had to question the other woman, who nodded in understanding.
"Fog itself isn't much of a problem." She started, "The issue is the rebels themselves. We've no visual cue to see them, and no runner to tell us if they're even close to us. Better to just fortify our current location and wait it out."
"...Alright."
Byleth couldn't help but disagree. The enemy was decidedly weaker than they were. A rebellion may involve some elite knights, and Lonato was apparently no slouch either, but they almost certainly held the advantage.
If Byleth had a say in it, they would've pushed through the fog, assisted their allies by bolstering their strength, or pushed through with the Blue Lions and taken down Lonato. The battle would be won that easily, she thought.
Perhaps that was why Byleth wasn't the leader though. She was thinking of how to win the battle and not the war. No matter how one dressed it up, this supposed rebellion was a war. A small one, within the borders of the same country, sure, but a war nonetheless.
With a breath and a measured glare at the Archer, who was doing nothing but standing, she grabbed a bundle of supplies and started unloading. Their camp would be a small one, no tents or anything. Really, the most advanced thing they would have would be a fire pit to heat some rations.
That, and several whetstones. Byleth knew more than anyone just how important a sharpened blade is. If she didn't keep her sword in good condition, then the likelihood of said sword getting stuck in a body exponentially increased.
Sitting down near the fire, she took one of the offered whetstones and started working. It was oddly soothing, the repetitive nature of the sword sharpening, the sound of the whetstone grinding against the metal.
It was a sound that she preferred compared to the stiff conversation that happened around her.
"Phew." Catherine dropped next to her, her arm wiping her forehead, "Fog like this should be gone within an hour, two at most. We'll move the moment it dies down."
Byleth nodded, before gesturing towards the unused whetstones. With a chuckle, the blonde waved it off, "Thunderbrand doesn't really need sharpening, but thanks for the offer."
The former mercenary furrowed her brow, "Thunderbrand?" Her question elicited a raised eyebrow.
"You haven't heard?" A shake of the head, and a grin in response, "Well I'll be." With a flourish, the knight drew the blade from her back.
It was…odd. An ivory colored greatsword, with three prongs on each edge. Its pommel had a large, smooth, circular gem. Byleth could see the craftsmanship that went into creating such a blade. She could practically feel an aura around the weapon, one that clicked something.
"That's…"
And she wasn't the only one, 'Sothis?' She tentatively asked. The girl had been mostly quiet ever since the talk with the Archer, 'What is it?'
"I don't know, but I feel like I should. That sword just feels…alive."
"This is Thunderbrand, one of the Heroes' Relics." As Byleth conversed with Sothis, Catherine continued, "The Goddess herself gifted these relics to ten heroes, hence the name, which have been passed down to descendant after descendant. Wielding it is an honor that I don't have words to describe."
The other woman held the weapon as if it was the most precious thing out there. If the story she told was true, then it likely was. A good weapon would last someone a couple of months, a great weapon would last for a couple of years. Masterworks could last a lifetime.
Thunderbrand apparently lasted even longer. At least a thousand years, and the blade looked to be in pristine condition. Either this was just a replica of the original, made over and over to replace the previous Thunderbrand, or this was the real deal.
Byleth was leaning towards the latter with how it felt by just being near it.
"Unfortunately for you, you're probably going to have to wait till you get to see me in action." Catherine gave a teasing wink to Byleth, "We're here to deal with the aftermath, not to battle." The blonde chuckled, followed shortly by the blue-haired woman.
"Such an optimist." They were having a good time. It seemed only right that someone would come and interrupt. That that someone happened to be the one person Byleth didn't want to see was just pure coincidence.
The Archer hard waltzed his way towards them, his golden eyes peering down at the blade with undisguised contempt. Before he could even continue, Catherine had gotten to her feet, glaring at the man, "Look, I don't know what your problem with me is. I haven't even met you before today, so can we at least try and get along for the duration of this mission?"
She extended a hand towards the dark skinned man. Byleth thought that he didn't even deserve that much. The man had been antagonistic the moment he'd seen the knight, for seemingly no other reason than to be antagonistic.
Knowing that, she figured that there was no way that the Archer would ever accept burying whatever hatchet there was between them. She was right.
He scoffed to the side, ignoring the offered hand, "Get along with a fanatic cultist like you? You must be joking."
With a grimace, Catherine pulled back her offered limb, "Cultist? Fanatic? If my vows to serve the Goddess and to protect the innocent are as fanatic as you say, then so be it." She glared at the man, who had started to smirk at her tauntingly.
"And here you are, on a mission to put down a lord beloved by his people. All because he didn't like your Church."
Catherine's eyes burned with righteous anger. She grabbed at Thunderbrand, even as the Archer suddenly had those two strangely shaped swords. Byleth got in between them as fast as she could, "Enough. Archer, get out of here." She threw a withering glare at the man, who shrugged, his infuriating smirk not fading in the slightest.
A sigh of frustration, "How you deal with that man, I'll never know."
"I try not to."
"Ha!" Byleth buckled slightly as Catherine gave a 'light' smack to her back, "I can see why! Honestly, I don't know why you even brought him in the first place!"
Byleth blinked as the words processed in her head, "...I didn't though? I thought you did?" There was certainly no way that she would ask the strange man to come along with them. He was a headache enough when in Garreg Mach
Catherine copied her blinks as her eyebrows raised in alarm, "What? I don't even know the man. Why would I invite him?"
The tension in the air was palpable as Byleth and Catherine exchanged bewildered glances. The realization hit them both simultaneously: neither of them had invited the Archer to join their mission. This revelation cast a shadow of suspicion over the entire situation.
"But why?" Catherine wondered, "He hardly strikes me as a man that would do it to get into Lady Rhea's good graces."
And wasn't that the most glaring question. All of the actions that the Archer took had never made any sense to Byleth. No, that was wrong. One part did make sense - all of the man's actions were utilitarian. He did what he did in conjunction with whatever he was planning. The issue was, she had no idea what he was after.
Even after the revelation that he had been killing bandits through some convoluted plan to weed out specific groups, the machinations behind that were nebulous. The man just felt too alien at times, like he wasn't even human.
More than ever, her need to find out what the Archer was talking about grew in leaps and bounds.
A horn interrupted her thoughts before she could go any further.
"The enemy is in the fog! I repeat, the enemy is in the fog!"
Commissioned by: Oliver vasquez
A/N: If you like what I do and want to support me, check out my P-atreon at P-atreon•com(slash)Almistyor.
And a special thanks to: Oliver vazquez, brutalcrab and Tassimo.