(A/N: BATTLE OF EAGLE AND LION UPCOMING
13 DAYS REMAIN…)
16th Day of the Wyvern Moon
Deep beneath Earth's crust sat a kingdom carved into the rocky structures in a series of tunnels that sprawled all across the Eurasian continent, and parts of Africa. It was known as Shambhala, the heart of the Agarthan Empire. In it, Thales sat in his private quarters, which was structured more like a nuclear bomb shelter than anything with its blue tinted lights, lack of windows and blast doors.
Suddenly, an orb on his desk began to glow and dim repeatedly. Thales knew this to be an incoming report from a man he had on the ground in Garreg Mach. He answered. Voice only.
"Speak, Solon."
"Seteth recently arrived with those beasts he left with. It appears not a single life was lost among their joint forces."
"Imbeciles," Thales snarled, referring to his own allies' lack of bite. "What of our own?" Thales barked.
"Complete and total annihilation. I am picking up no signal from Dolofonos's ship, and the battlefield was littered with corpses according to scouts we have near Enbarr. I do believe Chilon has been lost as well. Although…that is hard to confirm?"
"Explain."
"While our scouts did find his wrecked Titanus unit, it was…well…only beasts are capable of such savagery. His flesh and bones were mixed in with scrap metal parts from the wreckage. From what I've been told, we will have to identify him through dental records. Very…scattered…dental records." Solon was referring to the fact that the report labeled what was allegedly Chilon's jaw bone completely and totally pulverized, and the teeth that were found were five or six scattered haphazardly from where his killer has clearly battered his face in until the features were unrecognizable.
"Barbaric," Thales remarked calmly. "And how did Kronya take the news?"
"Oh. Guess he was too weak to truly call himself my apprentice then. Oh well," she smiled devilishly. "Plenty more vying for my attention where he came from."
"As you might imagine her to, my lord."
"Situation normal then. What of Odesse?" Thales asked.
"Still in hiding amidst the scandal, your excellency," Solon stated. "By now he has probably retreated to his off-site laboratory."
"Pay him a visit when you have the chance and tell him to forward any blueprints he has that are even in a prototype stage."
"My lord?" Solon questioned. He didn't like the implications of that request.
"Our forces are being dwindled one after another and if our main goal is to succeed, we need to put demonic beast production into effect now. I can't wait for Odesse to return to Shambhala on his own," Thales remarked.
"I shall speak with Cleobulus," Solon told him. "They have jurisdiction of the location of Odesse's lab. …Are you expecting him to be attacked, my lord?"
"That'll depend on Kronya," Thales stated.
"My lord, surely she wouldn't—"
"That is dependent entirely on Zero," Thales stated.
"Perhaps it is time we ordered him neutralized then," Solon stated.
"No. For the time being, I need him and the Flame Emperor alive, in spite of their transgressions. And if it comes down between Kronya and Zero or Odesse, I'll gladly part ways with one of your apprentices in the short term. It's chess, Solon. And we must be ready to take back the world that is rightfully ours. To that end, I will work with beasts, especially ones of greater intelligence and cunning. Played correctly, Zero could become our greatest asset, just as much as the Flame Emperor themselves."
"I'll not question your insight, my liege. Ah. I hear footsteps. I must go," Solon excused.
"Go then. I've heard all I have needed to for now," Thales stated and the call ended.
On his computer, Thales pulled up a 3-D chess board on an app on his desktop. He moved a black bishop to b4. "Check."
Completely oblivious to the actions of her enemies, Shamir was at the training ground, practicing her longshot. Current record? 1400 meters. She was slowly working her way up to it again. How she practiced was she started at 800 meters, making sure to get six kill shots before upping the distance. With each success, she added 50 meters. With each miss, she subtracted 25. Right now, she was at 1225 meters. She made a successful shot.
"How intriguing. Most people don't use long range weapons with the implementation of the cartridge rifle," Cornelia stated, walking up close to her right shoulder as Shamir lay prone on the ground.
"I'm a shady type of shooter," Shamir stated without adjusting her posture. She used an app on her pad at the monastery to simply move the target down range to 1275 meters. "I'm most comfortable at long range."
Cornelia looked at the stats of Shamir's shooting log from her pad. They spoke volumes to her skill. "So I see."
Shamir took another shot, scoring a direct hit. She moved the target to 1325 meters, and also moved it slightly to the right to force her to change her aim. She loved a challenge.
Cornelia heard the sound of the rifle go off. Miss. Shamir walked it back to 1300. She stood up.
"That's enough for a moment. My chest is starting to get numb from all the reverberation," Shamir sighed.
"Weren't you the one that moved the target in a different lateral direction and now you're giving up?" Cornelia asked her.
"If I had made the shot, I would've kept going, but I've been at this for hours. Also, real battle doesn't have continuous longer and longer shots. Targets move. You have to stay on your toes," Shamir explained, sounding exhausted.
"It's too bad you're not Britannian," Cornelia remarked. "A woman of your caliber must be a nightmare on any battlefield."
"Sure, when I'm called to battle," Shamir responded. "Most of the time, my missions…don't involve battle."
"An assassin then. I always suspected the church had at least one."
"If you're looking for the person that killed Clovis, you're way off base," Shamir stated. "What did you come in here for anyway? Just to flap your gums? You don't seem the type."
"I came here for review the basics after the nightmare that was the Rhodos Coast, then I happened to notice you and your skill. If there was ever a time Britannia and Rome had a falling out, always good to keep an eye on those standing at the pinnacle of ability," Cornelia stated.
"Britannia must be paranoid if they think they could ever become enemies with Rome," Shamir stated dismissively.
"We almost did. Seven years ago, his majesty wasn't exactly in good standing with the archbishop after she said she was taking Japan for herself. As I heard about it from Schneizel, he was prepared to strike a deal with the Almyrans and launch an attack," Cornelia stated.
"Emperor Charles really is the worst Britannia has to offer," Shamir grumbled.
"I can understand why people see him that way, especially with how callous and ruthless he can be. However, when he wants to be, he can be a good father," Cornelia stated.
"I find that hard to believe," Shamir replied disbelievingly. "The man throws his own children away when they're no longer useful to him. Family isn't about conditional support. It's unconditional."
Cornelia shook her head. "Perhaps nowadays and even as close as seven years ago, but I recall a different man, back when I was a little girl. At the time, his majesty hadn't taken to looking like he belonged in a history book about Britannia's 13 colonies. He was a different sort of man. Strong. Powerful. He commanded any room he entered, always escorting myself, Schneizel, Odysseus and Guinevere around, never letting us out of his sight whenever he had us for company, always trying to teach us something or another."
"And then he couldn't keep his dick in his pants. How many siblings do you have exactly?" Shamir asked.
"Enough to make a company under my command, last I checked," Cornelia stated.
"There is no way any sane man has enough love for that many children," Shamir remarked, eyes rolled.
"I…would have to agree. His majesty clearly plays favorites and it's not even well-hidden." She sighed, clutching at her chest. "I always thought Lady Marianne's children were among them. Sadly, I was wrong."
"I wouldn't know the value of strong sibling bonds," Shamir stated. "Never really got along with my own family. So, any sympathy I could share would be empty."
"Well, at least you're honest," Cornelia stated, cracking a smile, folding her arms.
"Life's a lot easier when you fly solo, though a lot lonelier too, as it turns out," Shamir stated. "That's probably why I've stayed on with Lady Rhea for so long, despite the zealotry of the church."
"Ah, I'd nearly forgotten. Despite being a Knight of Seiros, you're also a mercenary, aren't you?" Cornelia asked in the interest of clarification.
Shamir nodded.
"I always thought you a woman of few words, you know, but you're surprisingly chatty once you get engaged in a conversation," Cornelia started.
"Nah, this is rare for me," Shamir smirked. "I don't normally have a chance to talk to people of similar intelligence levels. Usually it's Catherine talking my ear off about this or that in the most annoying way possible."
Cornelia laughed, greatly amused. "I can somehow picture that. Just because she has all of that skill doesn't mean she needs to go flaunting it everywhere. I much prefer how Byleth Eisner keeps her cards close to chest. And yet even so, when she enters a room, the rabble quiets. Catherine enters a room and the authority she carries is present on her uniform, not her sensibilities."
Shamir grinned widely. "Yeah, that's Catherine all right. Wouldn't want to change her for anything though. Woman's got spunk. I can appreciate that in a fighter."
Cornelia guffawed in a scoffing manner. "Didn't think you were the type."
"Oh believe me, when I met her, I thought she was the type of person that just liked the sound of her own voice, but she knows how to reign herself in when it really matters. Kind of jealous really. Catherine knows how to relax. I'm always on edge, uneasy. Judging from your general demeanor, you seem of the same mindset."
"When you relax, things go wrong while you're off-guard. Besides, if people think I'm easy, they'll think they can take advantage of me. Can't have that. Plus, I want to set a good example for Euphemia."
"Ah, so it's a motive of sisterly pride, is it?" Shamir questioned. "I can see that."
"Since you brought it up," Cornelia suddenly said, pinching her chin, "Why didn't you get along with your own family? Sorry if that's too personal. It's just…just like you I don't normally get this chummy with other people, especially non-Britannians."
"Well, first of all, correction, technically I am Britannian now," Shamir told her. "Sort of. I'm sure the island nation of Dagda needs no introduction."
"I…oh." Cornelia felt a touch of unease. She'd spearheaded that invasion.
"You can drop whatever thought just crossed through your head. I was long out of the country before Britannia thought to take it over. Didn't settle in Rome until five years ago, of course. Spent most of my time in Faerghus and later Leicester. I've actually spent most of my life being non-Dagdan than being Dagdan. So, if you're worried about a citizen of a crushed nation looking for revenge, that's not even close to who I am. Although, I will say I dislike the treatment my former countrymen are going through. Britannia has a bad habit of treating non-native citizens like rubbish," Shamir explained. "All men are not created equal. Emperor Charles sure does love that phrase and uses it to run cheap labor into the ground. Britannia's a great nation, if you're not homeless and starving."
"HA! If your razor sharp tongue was a gun, I'd be dead. Apt criticism," Cornelia stated.
"Yet, you do nothing to change it. Interesting," Shamir remarked.
Cornelia was quick to explain herself. "I have an obligation only to my sister and the people I swore to protect. I'm neither smart enough, nor foolish enough to entangle myself in family or global politics. I know how to shoot people and lead an army. I'm proud of both of those things."
"That makes two of us, minus the leadership part. I'm a better follower," Shamir retorted. "Still, I suppose living a life playing to your strengths is understandable. Not everyone has ambitions of grandeur to change the world for the better."
Cornelia's brow furrowed. "Why did you decide to join in with Zero exactly, anyway?"
"He pays me. I'm a merc. Bought my silence too for that matter. All part of the job," Shamir stated.
"So your loyalty is only to coin?" Cornelia questioned.
"I pay back debts too. I'm not completely heartless. And it's unprofessional to let someone buy out an oath of silence." She smirked. "Just in case you were wondering."
"Had to be sure," Cornelia remarked. "Anyway, you never answered me about your family. We kind of got sidetracked."
"Ah, so we did," Shamir realized. "Well, to simplify it, I was one of six siblings back in Dagda. Mom and dad didn't have enough money to clothe and feed all of us all of the time…so I left, made it easier on everyone. Joined a company, became a merc, started learning to kill people. It was just…easier."
"I see. So instead of standing by your family, you abandoned them," Cornelia stated.
"Wasn't a lot worth saving," Shamir said. "And not every family sticks together. Besides, if I hadn't left, I wouldn't have met Catherine, Lady Rhea, or, starting today, you."
"Me?" Cornelia responded. This was her and Shamir's first ever conversation.
Shamir smiled whimsically. "You meet a lot of interesting people when you travel the world, people you feel like you can form long-term bonds with. Zero's not gonna be around forever and my contract with Rhea is set to expire at the end of the school year. And while I have criticisms for Britannia's morals, every country has their issues. Just look at the state of Adrestia right now. I dislike every ruling nation equally when it comes right down to it. It's not a nation I fight for, it's the people at my side worth keeping around." She grinned, getting cheeky. "I'd hate to have to put a bullet in your head, Princess Cornelia. It'd make Euphemia cry."
Cornelia became utterly serious, almost glaring. "It's cute you think that you could if we became enemies."
"Yeah, but why take the risk. I like my head on my shoulders where it is. And just because I didn't get along with my family doesn't mean I don't comprehend its value or anything. Being alone doesn't get you anywhere but lonely. It's hard to let people in, but it's the bonds you make for life that carry you in your darkest moments. And hey, I make a pretty good counter assassin too. You know, just in case you're worried about your sister any day of any given week," she proposed.
"Turning the conversation into a business proposal, shrewd," Cornelia responded.
"Well, I am a professional," Shamir chuckled.
"Well, Shamir Nevrand, consider yourself considered should I ever find myself in that situation. Britannia could use a woman like you among its military ranks," Cornelia told her.
"Heh," Shamir said with a smirk. I hope you appreciate this, Zero. I've gotten a bit closer to one of your primary targets without really trying to. She frowned, watching as Cornelia went over to practice on her own. I really would hate to have to dispose of her though. She may not have Catherine's cheeriness, but she's just as good for Britannia's army as Catherine is for the knights. I sincerely hope that, once you've gotten what you need out of her, you choose to be merciful.
17th Day of the Wyvern Moon
Garreg Mach staff were not the only individuals making good use of the training ground, Shez was a notorious frequenter, adamant about improving her skills to catch up to her former Professor, Byleth the Ashen Demon.
"I must say, despite what you may think, you ARE improving," Arval told her. "In the last battle, the Ashen Demon struggled with the enemy Vishnu's roughly as much as you did."
Shez panted as she stood up, using non-energy practice swords to practice her dual-wielding fighting style. She spoke aloud to Arval. "Yeah, well, best to leave nothing to chance. Neither of us were really on death's door at Rhodos. I don't know what she's like when cornered. Not to mention, she wasn't using her crest.
"…True," Arval conceded.
"Talking to yourself, Shez? Didn't think you were the type."
Arval's presence receded into Shez's mind as the young woman turned to see Gino Weinberg leaned up against a pillar.
"Oh, hey, Gino! And uh…er…" how was she going to get out of this one?
"Nah, it's cool. I talk my thoughts aloud sometimes too," he said, approaching. "Nice footwork though. Need a training partner?"
"You sure you're up for it?" Shez asked. "Us mercs don't exactly fight on the same level playing field you noble folk are used to. Felix took me on once, and he was so mad when I stepped on his foot and shoulder checked him. And that's just one "dirty" trick."
"Ehhhh, it'll be fine. It's just practice," Gino said, picking up two wooden practice swords. "What's there to get worried about?"
"You don't take anything seriously, do you?"
"Life's too short to go through your formative years with a frown on your face. I'll save that for when I'm a dad and have to protect my daughters from predatory guys," Gino responded.
Shez laughed. "Don't think jokes will make me go easy on you." She took a ready stance, putting one sword in front of her, bending her knees, and readying the other blade behind her for a fierce follow-up or a proper blocking stance. "I always take training super seriously."
"Well then, let's see if I can keep up," Gino stated, swinging his swords down. He then held them up, tipping them towards each other, readying himself for the incoming exchanging of blows.
Shez struck first, getting right in there and swinging in for an attack she knew Gino would block. However, she not only wanted to test his sturdiness, but his stance meant he was going to be using both weapons to block and she had an easy follow up strike around the back of his shoulder to his neck.
Before it could connect though, Gino jumped backwards. "Whoa!" he exclaimed. "You really don't mess around."
Shez chuckled, getting ready again. "Told ya. If you don't take this seriously, you're going right to Manuela!" She grunted, flying off her feet and right into Gino's personal space for another flurry of attacks. With every block Gino made to Shez's attacks, he was losing ground by a backstep per strike, and with how many attacks Shez was just throwing out wildly, her ferocity became harder and harder to keep up with before she saw an opening in Gino's crumbling defense. She thrust her practice weapon into Gino's ribcage, slipping between his guard, and knocked him completely off balance. She then shoulder checked him, bonked him in the side of the head with her pommel and brought both weapons sweeping down vertically along his torso, battering him and causing him to double over.
"Ow! Ow! Ow! Okay! Okay! I yield! Sheesh," Gino complained.
"Ho man, you okay, Gino?" Shez asked, wondering if she'd gone too far.
"Yeah, I'm all right. Never had a beating like that before. Yikes. And I thought Nonette could be brutal."
"S-Sorry," Shez apologized, "I figured being the Knight of Three, that meant you knew your stuff. Felt like I couldn't hold back."
"Yeah, and that'd be fine if rank was a determination of brute strength, but it's not," Gino told her, rubbing the sore spot of his head where Shez struck him.
"Huh? Really? But I thought all numbered squadrons did that? I mean…okay, maybe not all of them. But with how Britannia projects its strength, I thought Knight of One meant, you know, number one."
"I mean…it does. Nobody's a match for Bismarck Waldstein, in or out of a Knightmare. But it's not just infantry strength that gets evaluated when you become a Knight of the Round. Stuff like political authority and intelligence, KMF combat, and political status are also evaluated. Heck, if we based things purely on non-KMF strength, Nonette would probably be the Knight of Two and Monica would probably outrank Bradley," Gino stated.
"So, what you're saying is, all your points went into family status and your piloting skills?" Shez asked.
"Yeah, when it comes to KMF combat, I'm untouchable as long as I'm not up against Sir Bismarck, or Miss Nonette. But take me out of the frame and I'm just…a guy," Gino stated. "Maybe Sir Bismarck can get a reputation for strangling a gunman after taking three bullets to the chest and then waiting consciously, and patiently, for medical attention, but not me. As for my family's status…believe it or not, my dad didn't actually want me to join the military."
"Oh, really? That's surprising, given your ability," Shez stated.
"Actually, I didn't know anything about what I was doing. Just kinda signed up, took the piloting test, next thing I know, I'm in front of his majesty and getting rank and status," Gino remarked.
"…You can't be serious," Shez remarked, dumbfounded.
Gino laughed. "I know. Unbelievable, isn't it? But yeah, I took to the Knightmare Frame like a lion to fresh meat. My dad had no choice but to recognize me after that."
"He didn't before?" Shez questioned.
"So, the Weinberg family actually works directly in Britannia military R . We're kind of a big name there. Lloyd Asplund actually worked for my dad directly before peeling off in his own direction," Gino stated. "But, my dad knew I didn't really have what it took to be an engineer or a businessman, so he wanted me to marry into another rich family to expand the family's wealth. Thing is…I had a huge crush on this maid that was working for my dad at the time. Real cutie.
"She should've been in high school when I met her, but she said she was homeless and, for the most part, broke. Well, sort of. She didn't have any parents and she was in Britannia on a work visa the church gave her. She actually taught me a bit about magic theory, but I…couldn't really get a grasp on it, crest or no crest."
"Which crest do you have?" Shez asked.
"Daphnel, if you can believe it. House Daphnel's blood kept fracturing throughout the world since the 9th century. You can find it everywhere except the Empire these days. So yeah, technically I've got a distant relative in the Blue Lions house this year, Ingrid, I think her name is. Ah, but I'm getting off topic. About that girl, when my dad found out I was crushing on her, he dragged her out of bed while she was sleeping and beat her senseless before deporting her back to Rome."
"That's awful!" Shez exclaimed.
"Yeah, and I never forgave him for it, for the most part. I tried to do something, but I was only fourteen. I didn't have any authority over him. All things considered, karma got him in the end. Literally the next day after my friend was getting set to be deported, my dad apparently got castrated by a squirrel."
"He what?!" Shez was startled at just how casually Gino said that.
"Eh, heard the surgeons reattached it pretty effectively, though he now needs Viagra if he wants to perform," Gino chuckled.
Shez laughed nervously, not sure if she should even be laughing.
"What's your friend's name?" Shez asked. "If she's here in Rome, maybe we can go look for her," she volunteered.
"Well, truth is, I never really got her name," Gino said. "She wouldn't tell it to me. She kept trying to push me away, but whenever I saw her smile, I knew she really didn't want me to leave her alone. So, I kept calling her Strawberry."
"Strawberry?"
Gino tugged on one of his small-sized hair braids trailing along the right side of his neck. "Cause of her hair. It was ripe and red like a Strawberry. She hated the name at first, but I kept calling her it just to annoy her, and it stuck."
"You sure you didn't just annoy her until she gave in?" Shez asked, concerned.
"Nah, she was a good sport. Besides, when she was really annoyed, you could easily tell, cause she'd storm off. What a gal," Gino said. "If I saw her again though, I'd instantly recognize her."
"Strawberry colored hair that's not a noble," Shez muttered. "I…don't think I've seen anyone like that wandering around Garreg Mach, but, I'll keep an eye out."
"Yeah, if you see her, let me know, and tell her I said, hey," Gino said.
Shez nodded. "Yeah, I'll do that."
18th Day of the Wyvern Moon
Lelouch had to route his day carefully in order to avoid being spotted by his half-sisters, Cornelia and Euphemia. Fortunately, he could often use a textbook or, since it had worked before, a pair of sunglasses, if he absolutely needed to stroll straight through their path. Being a teen genius gave him leeway to predict the basic actions of others based on demographical information and, given the knowledge he had of his own family, personality quirks.
Euphemia was easy enough to avoid. She spent almost all of her time with the Blue Lions—mostly Dimitri. And Cornelia spent almost all of her time training, teaching, or in her office. Sometimes she'd leave Garreg Mach to attend to more Britannian related matters, which gave Lelouch slightly more freedom.
Of course, when Marrybell wanted to, she'd often let Lelouch know of incoming confrontations. Although the frequency of that warning had declined since their argument during the trip to Rhodos. Lelouch thought that, perhaps, he should request the aid of one of the newcomers to Garreg Mach, the Knights of the Round. Any of the three of them would prove useful to him, both in the immediate and distant future. Having a pawn in his pocket with authority over Cornelia's head would be exceptionally beneficial.
However, Anya had all of the emotional output of a stone, and the girl lacked social common sense. Meanwhile, Gino was about as subtle as a flash bang grenade launched at a cabin in the woods…through the window.
That left Monica Krushevsky, the Knight of Twelve. She was the third most recent addition to the knights, having joined a little over two years ago. Gino had been recruited right before the start of Garreg Mach's school year and Anya had been found and handpicked by Charles just last year.
Sure, Monica had the least authority out of any member of the knights. But that was because the girl's rise to stardom, from what intel Lelouch could gather, had been extremely conventional. She'd joined the military young, the youngest Britannia accepted these days, at age 12. She'd come from a small Barony, the Krushevskys, outspoken critics of Charles's reign. However, this didn't seem to deter Monica at all.
It appeared strange to Lelouch how Monica had risen in rank quicker than his own half-sister. Comparing some of their training data—acquired thanks to Yukiya—Cornelia had Monica beat in just about every category. And a royal was of far greater status than a simple baron's child. Sure, Monica had military competency at a much faster learning curve than Cornelia, and started earlier too. However, given Cornelia's lengthier service, Lelouch figured Cornelia would be up for a promotion by now.
A small mystery, if there ever was one. Yuri had told him that the Krushevsky family was particularly closed off, and so that made infiltrating difficult. That just told Lelouch one thing: they had something to hide.
Lelouch had long held an idea of speaking with Monica in furtherance of his own goals. His fight with Marrybell had simply given him the excuse to speed up his plan, and it was only today, shortly before dinner, that he knew, again, thanks to reliable intel, that he could talk to Monica without being spotted by his half-sisters. He felt Monica would be complaint. After all, she seem quite scared of angering Byleth, as if the legends of the Ashen Demon turned the proud knight into a frightened child. Given how much Byleth was willing to fight for Lelouch's honor and safety, Lelouch knew he could hold that over Monica's head if necessary.
The plan began near the dining hall. Euphemia was out with Dimitri elsewhere in Rome, with Dedue as an escort, and Cornelia was in Neo-Japan, visiting the Britannian embassy. To come across as casual as possible, Lelouch brought some fish up from the pond to the chefs. Byleth and Jeralt both taught him how to fish effectively. It was a skill he rarely put to use, but had mastered nonetheless. His bucket was only half-full, but he was going to make it seem like hunger had gotten the better of him.
He walked up the stone staircase towards the dining hall, nearly walking straight into Monica who had taken the longer, handicap accessible path from the marketplace. She always liked to report in to Bismarck just outside the monastery, according to Yuri's intel, once a week. Lelouch had timed his walk up the staircase perfectly, having caught Monica in his peripheral vision.
"Oh, sorry," he apologized, "Didn't see you there, Monica."
"Oh, no, I should've slowed my pace. Sorry, they're serving Britannian-style Shepherd's Pie, so I'm a little antsy. Wouldn't miss that for anything," Monica responded. Even the pace of her speech was quickened.
Lelouch smirked internally. This too had been part of his plan. "I know I'm not currently with the Violet Tigers, but do you think I could borrow a moment of your time? I know I'm just some rich kid with no parents, but…"
Monica gave a gallant bow, left hand place squarely on her right shoulder. "It is a knight's honor to serve the citizenry, regardless of wealth or status. I have no intended dining partner for the evening, so you're in luck."
Of course you don't. I had Yuri tell Gino he could find a rare animal called a Snipe in the western Roman forest, but that they only appear to cute girls with pink hair. Gino, like an idiot, bought it and took Anya along. He probably won't be back until morning. "I greatly appreciate it, Monica. Just let me give these fish to the chefs."
After handing off the fish and getting in line with Monica for his meal, she and Lelouch sat down near the entrance hall, Lelouch's preferred spot. A lot of people went up and down the entrance hall, so, in addition to people watching, Lelouch could get lost in the crowd if he needed to make a quick getaway.
"So what did you want to talk about?" Monica asked.
Lelouch knew where to start. "It was just puzzling to me," Lelouch said as he chewed and then swallowed a forkful of pie, "I don't quite comprehend how you managed to make Knight of Twelve. Ah," he said, pretending to realize how that sounded even though he knew exactly what he said, "Pardon, I don't mean to suggest you're incapable or anything, but it's just, nobody exactly calls you the Goddess of the Battlefield or anything."
Monica's expression and sigh said it all. Touchy subject. "I honestly don't quite know if I deserve this position myself. But…I think military politics plays a big part. Princess Cornelia enjoys the frontline and going out and slaying Britannia's enemies. She's so focused on the battlefield, she never really takes the time to think about the domestic aspects of the military. Sure, she has leadership qualities befitting an effective politician. If not for her stay here at Garreg Mach, she was his majesty's first choice to replace the late Prince Clovis at the embassy, but if she ranked up, she'd spend less time leading men and more time pushing papers or making tactical decisions from the safety of her bunker. From what I can gather, that's not her style. She prefers to scare the enemy."
"If the King does not ride into battle, his men will not follow," Lelouch responded. "Such a philosophy suits the second princess and her warmongering. Of course, I was under the impression, Knight of Nine, Nonette Enneagram, followed similar behaviors."
Monica visibly shuddered at the mere mention of Nonette. "Nonette has an advantage over Cornelia in that she is far less frozen when it comes to difficult decisions. She just…does things. Spontaneously. And somehow it all works out. Members of the army I spoke to of my peer group called it her X-factor."
"But that I could plan for anything…except the brazenness of the human mind," Lelouch said, as though quoting a book.
"I didn't take you for a philosopher, though maybe I should've expected that given your chess reputation," Monica stated, turning her head as she pinched her chin.
"I consider myself a man of culture, that's all," Lelouch stated. "Do you play chess Monica?"
Monica shook her head. "I know how to play, but my level of skill would probably bore you to tears. My hand maid taught me the Italian Game, but after that…" Monica shook her head, "…Forget it."
Lelouch laughed. "Ha, well you'll only get better with practice."
"It's not exactly a game that appeals to me really. I'd need to devote too much of my day to learn it and master it when I'd rather devote that time to things I'm already good at. I know a lot of people play chess these days, especially in Britannia. It's almost like 'the game for rich people' in this century. But…I'd much rather play video games." She blushed. "Sorry, is that weird?"
Lelouch shook his head. "No. Not at all. Everyone's different. I don't much care for his majesty's All men are not created equal, but I think in this case, it works."
Monica almost burst out laughing, but settled for whipping her head down and grunting. It would've been unladylike to guffaw during a meal. She ate a bit more, drank some water and then said, "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," Lelouch said.
"How are you not afraid to have the Ashen Demon as a surrogate sister? I mean…I know you guys aren't related by blood, but like…with everything you hear about her…aren't you afraid that like, you know, if you displease her…she'll like…chop your head off…or something?"
Lelouch thought how best to answer. He could plan for a lot, but not every question asked to him. Monica's fear of Byleth was plain as day though. He could only imagine what exaggerated tales Nonette had told her. Given the woman liked to scare him and Euphemia when they were kids with ghost stories and collapsed pillow forts, Lelouch's imagination didn't need to take him far. Still, that was a mental exercise for another day.
"Well," Lelouch began cordially, "For one thing, she's fond of me. Has been since we met. Back then, my dad's inheritance was still off the table, so despite coming from a good home, I was broke and homeless."
Monica tilted her head up. "I…can't say I know what that's like, but…that almost happened to me."
Lelouch became intrigued. That had never come up in his intel.
"Well, you see," Monica began, only to stop and shake her head. "Er, never mind. Sorry…I…shouldn't talk about that. Dad would get angry if a scandal erupted."
"So, it's scandalous then?" Lelouch asked.
"You didn't hear me say that," Monica said with the utmost seriousness. This wasn't the usual teen girl embarrassment of "shut up, idiot!" this was a command. Speak not of it or else, basically.
"Well, well, my apologies," Lelouch backed off. "But back to your original question, you asked about the Ashen Demon. Truthfully, I don't think I'll ever know what it's like to be on the business end of her sword. But…when you get right down to it. When you look past the warrior, she's still a girl, well, woman now. Sure, Jeralt wasn't exactly the best at parenting, even during my brief tenure with him, but…well, for a chronic alcoholic, he's never put his hands on her."
Monica sipped water daintily before responding, "Interesting," she said, leaning on one fist. "I mean, I never assume the worst in anyone, but I would've figured with how…withdrawn she is that—"
"That Jeralt beat that into her?" Lelouch asked. "Yeah, that's the normal thought process. But I think a large part of it is growing up on the battlefield so young. I know it shaped me. It's why I'm here." Lelouch was now digging into his cover story. "Seteth is a reasonable person. I'm hoping after graduation to become a tactician for the Knights of Seiros."
"Yeah, that seems like your calling. Of course, Britannia is short on clever tacticians themselves."
"You have Prince Schneizel. You don't need any others," Lelouch quipped as he went for his own water.
Monica laughed, smiling. "Suppose that's true."
With Monica's guard now down, Lelouch believed he could bridge the gap of alliance between them a little. He had no intention of using his Geass today. Not with so many witnesses. Ultimately, the plan was for her to trust him, to lead her to somewhere secluded and then BAM! Instant servitude. Sure, Lelouch didn't enjoy screwing with other people's lifestyle choices. He wouldn't sap Monica of her free will, but she would make an excellent scapegoat for a security breach down the line.
"Honestly, if I don't go the tactician route, I might join Shamir's espionage unit and become a spy," Lelouch said with a friendly enough smile.
"Spy, huh?" Monica asked.
"The church is a neutral party, so all manner of secrets would be at our disposal. For a price, of course, as far as I'm concerned. And believe me, if I became a spy, you'd want me on your side," Lelouch said with a devilish grin. Let's see if she takes the bait and gets what I'm driving at.
Monica froze. Lelouch could see it in her face. At the very least she appeared to be contemplating it with the way her eyes were attempting not to dart around. Lelouch knew why. Spies were useful. Intel gathered, especially rare intel, was recognition. And, for a moment, Lelouch saw a flicker in Monica's eye he recognized: ambition. Inwardly, he smiled. He had her now.
Now it all makes sense. That's why Monica managed to climb up while Cornelia stayed where she was. Cornelia fights the good fight and takes her merits in stride. As long as she can protect Euphemia, it doesn't matter where she ends up. Monica Krushevsky…has long held ambition to climb to the very top. Why? Well, let's see if I can't find out. "Any intel I gather and sell to Britannia, hypothetically speaking, if purchased by you, would help you with internal politics if it was made clear that you were the one that acquired it, don't you think?"
Monica swallowed. Her next statement came with hesitation. After all, if a deal was too good to be true, it tended to be. "But…but aren't you planning to be a tactician?"
"I was, but now that I think about it, being a spy might work, especially if I had someone on the inside I could trust. Think what secrets I could pry. If tactical prowess is my calling, imagine how easily I could gather information. In fact, I could lay the ground work right now," Lelouch said, spreading his hands on the table. "We could form…a team, as it were. I'll need some…assistance from now until the end of the school year, and, in turn, I can become your man on the inside of the church. You could see yourself rise all the way to the spot of the late Marianne at Knight of Two with my help."
Monica imagined it, only to shake her head violently. "Wh-what do you get out of this?"
"The money you would allegedly pay me, obviously. In case you haven't noticed, my younger sister is blind and handicapped. I want her to live as comfortably as she can. If that means making a lot of money through unscrupulous means, so be it," Lelouch replied sternly.
"I don't mean to pry, but…can't healing magic fix her limbs and eyes?" Monica asked.
"If…the injury were purely physical, then yes, but it's also partially psychosomatic too. Additionally, they're old injuries. By the time I could afford a healer, after the incident, it was too late for healing magic to do anything," Lelouch replied, sounding bitter about it.
"I'm…so sorry. I'm an only child, so I can't even imagine…"
"Sympathy won't fix her injuries, but…" Lelouch said, lidding his eyes halfway, "…I suppose it's not the worst thing in the world to have people understand how we've suffered. I want her to get better, more than anything. She's a constant reminder of the incident that left me homeless, but that's all the more reason to keep her safe."
Monica smiled. "You're a good big brother, you know that?"
"Ah, well, it's a gift," Lelouch said with a smile.
"I wish I had siblings growing up," Monica said, leaned over on the table, forking her pie and chomping it. She chewed, leaning on her knuckles.
"There's pros and cons to not being an only child. Nunnally was always energetic. She loved to sprint through the house when her legs still worked, divebombing onto the couch, the beds and her stuffed animals."
"Makes you wish you could go back to those moments, right?" Monica asked.
Lelouch cracked a smile, chuckling a bit. "Well, I don't imagine she would go running around like a child at her current age. Legs and eyes or no legs and eyes," he said as his smile faded, "Nunnally's changed."
"Hmm?"
"It's…nothing, never mind. It's my personal business to worry about," Lelouch responded.
"You know, maybe the reason you don't have to worry about the Ashen Demon so much, and why she likes you, is because you're so personable," Monica said.
Lelouch did a mental double take. "You can't be serious."
"No, really!" She argued amicably. "You've got some kind of…" she curled a finger through her hair, "…magnetism. I seriously feel like if I got to know you better, I'd want to share all my darkest secrets with you. It's weird."
"Maybe you're just easily swayed by a handsome face," Lelouch said, giving his best smile. "Wouldn't be the first time."
Monica laughed. "I have noticed how you have girls from all five houses admiring you from afar."
Lelouch nodded. "So, do we have a deal? About the spy thing, I mean."
Monica outstretched her hand to shake Lelouch's. "You've got yourself a deal, Lelouch Eisner."
Lelouch shook it firmly, smiling. Phase one, complete. Monica Krushevsky, you will make an ideal pawn.
19th Day of the Wyvern Moon
Getting set up for a joint mission with Claude took some doing to avoid getting caught by Hubert and Edelgard. Zero and the Golden Deer going out on the same day that Lelouch Eisner would not be attending classes would be seen as suspicious. Fortunately, this was why Lelouch would randomly skip class on occasion anyway to make it seem as if his disappearance was purely normal behavior. It frustrated Edelgard, but there was little she could do about it, especially now that Byleth was their professor. Any discipline received would amount to a slap on the wrist, and Edelgard had too much unprofessional interest in the blue-haired professor to report her to Seteth. Furthermore, Lelouch's argument was that, as long as he got results, there was nothing to be gained from sitting through pointless lectures.
This allowed him to, as soon as Byleth did her evening check up on him at 1am, stay up until 3am to head out with Claude and members of the Deer invested in the situation. The Ashen Wolves were all basically present for one reason or another. However, Claude hadn't told Lorenz about the operation. And he knew Raphael to be a blabbermouth, so he kept the situation from him and Ignatz.
Much to Lelouch's relief, Nunnally wasn't present, which meant that Marianne, despite her best wishes, had to come along. Balthus and Yuri both knew healing magic, but Marianne was far more adept at it. Much to Lelouch's shock, Hilda was present, despite how early it was. The two houses met in Abyss, right in the hangar bay of the Neverland Mk. II.
Hilda was never more shocked to see Balthus. "Baltie? Is that you?"
"I uh…" Balthus attempted to look for something to hide behind, settling for crouching down behind Zero's cape. Zero, disinterested in covering Balthus now that the consequences were minimal, stepped away from the man as cover.
As Hilda began to chew Balthus out for his life choices, Zero approached Claude. "More than I expected. You even managed to get Hilda to come along."
"I can hear you, you know," Hilda responded. "And for the record, no arm twisting was necessary. I volunteered. Those jerks are the reason Nunna almost died. Ain't no way I'm not paying them back with my axe."
"Good to see you motivated," Zero responded. He turned to the other wolves. "What about the rest of you?"
"Hey, I'm used to getting up early for hunting and fishing. This is just like back home, just with more danger," Leonie stated. "I even brought snacks. Plenty to share."
"I told Lysithea it was past her bedtime, but she insisted on tagging along," Claude remarked, only to get a swift side swipe of the white-haired girl's boot to his shin, followed by a growl from her throat.
"You're going up against those mages in the black robes, right?" Lysithea asked. "I have a personal interest in this mission, Zero. I hope you'll make good use of my talents."
"I wasn't aware you had a history," Zero remarked.
"I'll tell you once we're clear of Rome if it's that great an interest to you," Lysithea offered.
"I'd like to hear about it," Zero nodded. He looked over to Marianne. "You look nervous, Miss von Edmund."
"Um, well…I…I don't feel like I really belong here," Marianne said.
"Hmm?"
"I feel like the Neverland will crash or the mission will be a failure just because I came along," Marianne stated.
"Fate has no meaning to a man like me. There is no such thing as cursed luck. I bend fate and destiny to my will," Zero said, gesturing with his whole left arm as if clutching an invisible grail.
"There he goes again," Hapi remarked, rolling her eyes, smiling.
From down the entry/exit ramp of the Neverland Mk. II, Kronya emerged. "Everything's squared away, Zero," she told him, only to get noticed by Claude and the others. "Ah…"
"Ah, right, forgot you had one of their kind on your side."
"You don't gotta worry about Kronny," Hapi said. "She's one of us. Besides, we wouldn't know where we were going if she hadn't given Zero the coordinates."
"Huh?" Claude questioned.
"I could not have located our target without Kronya's cooperation," Zero explained. "She may wear their face, and wield their weapons, but she isn't one of them. She's one of us."
Claude noticed how Kronya looked visibly wounded to hear Zero say this. He made a mental note to ask about this on the flight.
"Our trip will take two hours. We'll be outpacing the speed of sound and be back before noon if all goes according to plan," Zero stated.
To try and bridge the gap a little, Leonie walked over to Kronya. "Pleasure to be working with you, Kronny. Thanks."
"It's Kronya, actually. Hapi has a bad habit of nicknaming everyone," Kronya hissed. "And I don't shake hands with beasts."
"Sheesh, who pissed in your cereal?" Leonie asked.
"Kronya may be cooperative, but she has the attitude of a cactus," Zero stated, shaking his head.
"Oh, I get it. She has a soft center," Claude joked.
"Watch yourself," Kronya told him, getting irritated. "I stab people who annoy me."
Claude looked from her to the other wolves, Balthus still getting an earful from Hilda, to Yukiya messing around on his phone. "Sheesh, and I thought the Deer were the House of Misfits, but I think you got us beat, Zero."
"When outcasts congregate under one banner, they become stronger than the sum of their parts. I simply have given them that banner," Zero responded.
"You know, I know a guy that loves flashy, hammy speeches like that. Surprised he isn't a lackey of yours," Claude quipped.
"That's his prerogative, but I don't enjoy being upstaged," Zero responded.
Claude laughed. "No, probably not. You strike me as the type that would have me taken out back and shot if I tried to perform karaoke with you."
Even though Lelouch knew better, Zero did not. So, he just turned his attention to Hilda. "Is he always like this?"
"Yes, yes he is," Hilda groaned. "Don't worry, you get used to it."
Zero looked back at Claude and noticed the young man had an unusually bulky looking black back slung over his back. "What's in the bag?"
"Oh? This? It's a secret weapon," Claude said.
"What is it?" Zero repeated.
"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret," Claude responded, putting his hands behind his head.
Zero palmed his visor and shook his head slightly in disbelief.
Yuri felt it was best to just get the show on the road. "Well then, since we all appear to be assembled. Shall we climb aboard and get going, Zero?" he asked.
Zero nodded. "Let's not waste anymore time. Everyone board the Neverland Mk. II. Although we leave under cover of darkness, wew shall drag the truth of Count Gloucester's mishaps kicking and screaming into the light!"
Aboard the Neverland, and on their way to what he hoped was their destination and not a trap, Claude made good on his interest in talking to Kronya. He wanted to know how Zero had twisted the information out of her, so much so that she'd sell out her own people, knowing she'd have to participate in the slaughter too.
Claude caught up to her as she was exiting the mess hall on board the ship, waiting just down the hall so he could intercept her.
"Hey, there! Kronya, right? Got a minute to chat?"
"Ugh, with a clown like you, why?" Kronya snapped.
Claude laughed. "Clown, huh? That's rich coming from you. Are the teardrop makeup and the black bead earrings not meant to make you look like you jumped out of a goth punk band?"
"Tell me what you want before I gut you!" Kronya snapped.
Claude looked sincerely apologetic, "Whoa, there. Take it easy. No need to go right for violence. I honestly just want to talk, that's all." He instantly went back to smiling. "Sorry, the quipping's a bad habit. Can't turn it off."
"I go back to: why?" Kronya asked again.
"Look, I don't know exactly know anybody who'd sell their own countrymen out for a mint, and from what I can tell, Zero isn't even paying you. You're the first member of…whatever you and your people are that hasn't tried to shout "Die, beast!" and kill me on sight."
"I'm an Agarthan and I'm a superior human! A true human!" Kronya snapped.
"Ooh!" Claude exclaimed and then hissed. "See, yeah? I don't buy that for a second." He put his hands behind his head. "If guys are superior humans, why do we keep kicking your butt by the bucket load, huh?"
Kronya glared. "Zero will never find the body."
"All right, all right," Claude remarked, still remaining chipper and cheeky. "I've touched a nerve. I get it. But that still doesn't explain if you're all "superior race"," Claude said, making exaggerated jazz hands, "why you're following Zero. Or is he one of you?"
Kronya growled. "It's none of your business!"
"So it's personal then," Claude deduced.
"I will stab you," Kronya grumbled.
"Ha, uh…sounds like I got it in one. Okay, so is this to your benefit? Betraying your own countrymen, I mean."
Kronya didn't answer Claude. She just glared.
"Look, Kronya. You may not want to believe me, but I belong to two different worlds when you get right down to it. But, mine runs in my blood. I can't just run away from one to the other. I'd be abandoning one family for another," Claude told her.
"Save the sappy speeches for someone who cares," Kronya snapped.
"I'll take that over wanting to stab me. That's an improvement."
Claude then had to dodge a dagger that went whizzing past his head and sailed towards the wall, embedding itself into it a good three inches.
"Right, very mature," Claude remarked, doing his best to hide his shaking knees.
"Is there a point to your inane blabbering?" Kronya demanded to know.
"Look, all I'm trying to say is this: you made a choice today. You're gonna have to do something you're probably gonna hate. As someone who lives in Leicester so close to neighboring Almyra…I know what that's gonna feel like. You Agarthans are kinda cut from the same cloth. Death would be a worthy sacrifice."
"You're wrong," Kronya said without a single shred of jitteriness. "I don't want to be sacrificed or die. I want to keep living." She then realized how little she cared for this conversation. "Look! Stay out of my business! I've been tasked with helping Zero and that's what I'm gonna do! Don't act like you understand me because I don't have to get to know you at all! This is just a mission and I'm Zero's blade! Don't forget that unless you want to be found in bloodstained sheets with a dagger in your chest!" Kronya then realized how she'd phrased that and shoved Claude aside for a private room.
She then proceeded to get under the bed, hugging herself in the darkness, eyes wide with terror. What's happening to me? She thought, sweating. Zero…Zero's just…he's just a beast like all the others. Yet…yet at the thought of pleasing him…I…I feel so happy. She clenched her eyes shut. Dammit! When I shut my eyes…he's all I'm thinking about, and seeing! She opened her eyes, now filled with tears. Thales…help me…I want to go home.
An image of her with the Ashen Wolves celebrating another victory, raising their soda cans before chugging them flashed through Kronya's mind. In a fit of rage, she lifted the bed wholesale and through it against the wall. She then proceeded to completely and utterly break anything she could get her hands on in the dark room. She was, in all effect, having a temper tantrum. At least, that's what she thought she was doing. In reality, her behavior was closer to a psychotic breakdown. Her shortness of breath was accompanied by confusion, and a loss of understanding of who she was.
By the end, the bed frame was a mess, the mattress was in pieces, and Kronya was sitting alone in a messed up, using a pillow case as a blanket, crying into her palms. The pain in her chest, as she sat there crying, hurt so much that she knew, if she didn't need her heart to live, she'd carve it out of her chest and smash it…so it could never hurt her again.
(A/N: This chapter may feel a bit short, but chapters 39 and 40 are already finished. I have enough content to plug three chapters, albeit with two shorter ones, but I feel as if letting the narrative flow is more important than word count. When I post chapter 39…hmmm…well it's sort of dependent on all of you. If I get overwhelming feedback for this chapter, I'll release 39 sooner than planned. Otherwise, I'll release it next week. The same goes for chapter 40.
But, until then, as always, from all of me, to all of you, let your hearts stay human and your wrath draconic. Ja ne!)
SPECIAL THANKS to my Patrons ShawnH and Wizard Aro for their contributions. And if you'd like to become a member, I charge the low, low price of only a dollar just to sign up. I don't offer much, but if you'd like to see content coming—and swiftly—consider subscribing/donating. And I'll see all of YOU next time!