A light fog and drizzle settled over the expansive woods of Fraldarius territory, where the combined forces of the Blue Lions and the Black Eagles had made a temporary camp a couple of kilometers from Conand Tower. The fortress, a large circular stone structure rising approximately twenty stories high, was visible to them as its silhouette loomed above the treetops.

At the center of the camp, Kratos stood under an open canopy alongside Manuela, Dimitri, and Edelgard. They were gathered around a small table where Mimir's head rested beside a structural map of the tower. With them was an older, broad-shouldered man with long orange hair streaked with gray, leaning over the table as he studied the map intently.

"As I'm sure most of you are aware, this-" the man named Gilbert began, his voice low and laced with weariness as he gestured to the map, "-is Conand Tower. Several centuries ago, this area was the site of a massive battle, back when invasions from the north were at their peak. In response, the Kingdom erected this tower as a means of both surveillance and defense. But now, it has been largely abandoned, as most of the bordering lands were annexed and the invaders pushed back behind the Ruska Mountains." He then looked up at the individual around him. "However, Miklan and his band of thieves now occupy the fortress. Therefore, seizing may prove difficult."

"You know your history, Gilbert." Edelgard told the Church Knight with interest. "If I recall correctly, you're from the Kingdom, aren't you?"

From Dimitri's point of view, the veteran knight seemed to have given an ever so slightly scowl for the briefest moment before waving the question aside. "I left my home long ago." He said with a pointed look. "If you have any questions about the mission, I'd be happy to answer them."

Meanwhile, Kratos turned his head toward the rest of the students outside the canopy. They sat together in loose circles, talking amongst themselves. Among them, Annette sat slightly apart, her gaze fixed on the man whose hair color matched hers. Her shoulders were tense as she watched him, but the moment she realized Kratos was looking at her, she quickly averted her eyes, pretending to focus on the damp ground in front of her.

The Spartan lingered for a moment before returning his attention to the conversation at hand as Dimitri gave the old knight a knowing smirk. "That's too bad, Gilbert. Since you're very well informed, I was hoping to hear that you would tell us more."

"In any case," said Gilbert, his tone firm as he steered the conversation away from himself. "While the fortress itself is formidable in its construction, it requires a sizable garrison to operate effectively." He gestured toward specific points on the map. "Thankfully, according to the latest reports, Miklan and his bandits are severely undermanned. They may be able to hold off a proper siege for a few days, but once we manage to get inside, there will be little else they can do."

"Aye, that's all well and good," Stated Mimir, "but we don't exactly have the means to conduct a siege, now do we? And since none of us are keen on standing around outside waiting to be spotted and picked off, we'll need to find another way in." He paused, his eyes rolling toward the darkening sky as a rumble of distant thunder echoed through the woods. "And you know what, that coming storm might just be the cover we need and-"

"-And use it as cover to mask our approach." Edelgard finished with gleaming intrigue.

Dimitri nodded, his brow furrowed as he considered the plan. "Gilbert, are there any specific entry points that would be less guarded?"

Gilbert pointed to another part of the map. "Here. This access point leads to an internal staircase that bypasses most of the main defenses. Scouts under young Fraldarius' unit reported it's only manned by a couple of sentries. It's our best option for entry without alerting the bandits."

Edelgard immediately stepped in, "They shouldn't be a problem. We'll hit them before they even realize what's happening." She glanced at her professor. "Manuela, do you have any objections?"

Manuela shook her head, pulling her cloak tighter against the damp chill of the storm. "None at all. The sooner we can get out of this rain, the better."

Everyone stood silently for a moment as they soaked in the initial plan, until it was eventually broken by the sound of Sylvain's voice. "So, I take it we've got the whole plan in order already?" The redhead put on one of his signature smiles as he walked in under the canopy.

"Ah, Sylvain." Dimitri greeted his classmate. "How did the patrol go with you and your unit? And yes- we have a way inside, but there's still the matter of formation." He turned to Kratos. "Specifically, who will be forming the vanguard during the assault." The prince paused in thought for a moment before he let out a sigh. "Sylvain, about your brother… I know he's been disowned, but…

Sylvain's smile vanished as he shook his head. "Listen, Your Highness, don't bother losing your head over those lowlifes. It's a wasted effort." He crosses his arms. "He is no longer a member of House Gautier… or my brother. He's nothing more than a common thief."

"Are you sure about that? It would be understandable to find this situation… well, regrettable, to say the least."

"Regrets?" The older student scoffed, letting out a bitter chuckle. "Heh, you must be joking. You know we're far past the point of regret. And it always falls on the younger brother to clean up the mistakes of their elders, doesn't it?"

Before either Dimitri or anyone else could respond, Sylvain had already turned on his heel and walked out from under the canopy, heading back to where the rest of the students waited in the light drizzle. Everyone, including Edelgard, watched him go.

"What a mess." The empress said with resignation. "Forsaken by the Goddess, who now demands his execution."

The prince couldn't help but furrow his brow at her words. "What exactly do you mean by that, Edelgard?"

"I mean," She clarified while attempting to mask her impatience, "that there's no reason that Crests should have the power to dictate someone's destiny." The young woman placed a hand on her hip and looked at Church Knight. "Don't you agree, Gilbert? He was just another victim of cruel fate."

There was an awkward pause before Mimir "stepped" in. "Aye, lass, I won't argue that Crests played a large part in these horrific circumstances, nor would anyone deny their influence over the way things are. However," from the table, he gazed up at the white-haired girl with a look of both understanding and reservation. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. It wouldn't be fair to put all the responsibility on someone, or something for the choices that Miklan made now, would it?"

The head's bifrost eyes fell on His Highness for a moment before shifting over in the direction where Sylvain had left. "Take the other wee Gautier for example. The boy had plenty of reason to go down a similar path- maybe even worse. He's got the Crest, aye, but one could argue it brought him more grief than glory, thanks to the abuse and resentment he endured from his elder brother."

"Precisely," Edelgarded emphasized. "Had it not been for the system in place to begin with, then maybe-"

"Don't misunderstand me, lass," Mimir interjected firmly, cutting her off. His golden eyes locked onto hers and his voice steady. "I'm not saying the system isn't flawed. It has certainly hurt a lot of people, but that doesn't erase individual responsibility. Miklan chose to let his anger consume him, just as Sylvain chose not to. That's the distinction I'm making."

Edelgard's expression tightened, a flicker of frustration crossing her face. "So you're saying the system bears no responsibility?"

"I'm saying it matters plenty," Mimir replied evenly. "But blaming it for everything lets people off the hook for their own choices. Miklan's story is tragic, aye, but it's not entirely the fault of Crests or the system. It's also his."

Edelgard fell silent, her hand dropping from her hip as she stared at the table. After a moment, she sighed, her tone laced with reluctant concession. "Well, I suppose we're all entitled to our opinions on the matter."

Back outside, the rest of the Blue Lions and Black Eagles continued to pass the time with conversation. And when Sylvain came onto the scene, he noticed Annette sitting by herself on a nearby log, her shoulders slumped and her gaze fixed on the ground.

With his usual casual stride, the redhead came up behind her, stepping over the log to sit down beside her. His cheerful expression was in place, though anyone paying close attention might have noticed it was more forced than usual. "You know," he began playfully, leaning forward slightly, "the last time my dad made a face like that, it ended up sticking that way. Pretty sure it hasn't changed since."

The girl blinked, momentarily startled by his sudden appearance. She glanced up at him, a faint crease of annoyance mingling with the faintest hint of amusement. "You're ridiculous, Sylvain," she muttered.

"Guilty as charged," he admitted with a grin, leaning back and stretching his arms out. "But hey, if it gets you to stop sulking, I'd say it's worth it."

Annette huffed lightly, brushing aside some loose strand of hair from her face. "I'm not sulking," she said half-heartedly, her voice unconvincing even to herself. "I'm just… thinking about some things."

The redhead tilted his head, his grin fading into a more genuine smile. "Well, lucky for you, I'm great at helping people not think about things. So, what's on your mind?"

His classmate doesn't respond for a moment while tapping a finger on her knee as if to contemplate on whether to humor him or not. "...Your father, did he ever…" She hesitated. "Did he ever come to see you when you were at the Monastery? Or... was it always just about business?"

Sylvain blinked, surprised by the question, before leaning forward slightly with a thoughtful hum. "No, not really. I mean, he wrote letters to me, but I never responded to any of them."

"Really? Why?" Annette asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she looked at him.

"To put it in your own words, it was because they were about business as usual," Sylvain said with a shrug, "You know, 'Do this,' 'Don't do that,' 'Why can't you be more…'" He trailed off, shaking his head before offering her a small, wry smile. "Point is, they weren't the kind of letters that made you feel like someone actually wanted to see you."

"But he was around before you came to the Academy, right?" She pressed.

Sylvain took a deep breath through his nostrils. "Yeah… he was." The young son of Gautier admitted as he stared out into the woods. "Not exactly the warm and fuzzy type, though. He was there to make sure I didn't mess up, as though he was trying to avoid another Miklan-esque type of situation. In fact, let's just say we didn't have a lot of heart-to-hearts."

Annette looked down, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her cloak. "But at least he was there. I mean... that's something, right?"

Sylvain tilted his head, glancing at her. "Maybe. Depends on how you look at it. Sometimes, it's easier when someone isn't around to point out every flaw or remind you how you've disappointed them. But hey, at least you don't have to deal with that kind of thing."

At this, the young girl sighed frustratingly and shook her head. "To be honest, Sylvain, I'd say you're lucky to not have to deal with the things I've had to put up with. Both me and my mother."

The older boy frowned. "Is he really still avoiding you?"

"Every chance he gets," she muttered. "It's like I don't even exist to him."

For a moment, Sylvain considered saying something to further discredit the man talking with their professor beneath the canopy. But after a brief period of introspection, he instead said, "...I'm sure he's not doing it on purpose."

Annette's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing slightly. "How would you know?"

"For the same reason my father refuses to come over here himself to deal with Miklan." He told her simply. "To him, it's easier to just avoid the problem than face the fact that he messed up."

"And you think he's messed up with you?" Annette asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and doubt. "Are you disappointed with the way you've turned out?"

Her question gave the young man pause for thought. "Honestly, I think that remains to be seen. But if I do happen to turn out as anything worthwhile," he nodded toward the tall white brigand beneath the canopy. "Then at least I'll know who to thank in that regard."

Sylvain offered Annette a sincere smile this time, a rare moment of genuine warmth breaking through his usual playful demeanor. "You know what, Sylvain?" She said after a brief pause, her lips curving into a small but genuine smile of her own. "I never thought I'd say this, but that actually makes two of us."

Elsewhere in the camp, Felix sat cross-legged on the ground away from the main group, including his battalion. With his sword in one hand across his lap and a whetstone in the other, he busied himself to ensure that all of his gear were in order, with only the sound of soft ringing metal to accompany him while waiting for the assault to finally begin.

As he worked, Felix became vaguely aware of movement at the edge of his vision. Glancing up, he spotted Marianne von Edmund stepping further into the woods, and the sharpening of his blade slowed. Before long, she stopped roughly thirty meters away, just within sight but far enough to be out of earshot of the main camp.

From her satchel, she withdrew a small tome and held it open in one hand. With the other, she began to summon what looked like frost from the air. Felix watched in silence as the frost coalesced into a sharp, crystalline spike before Marianne threw the ice projectile toward a nearby tree. However, just before it could reach its target, the spike disintegrated midair, scattering into a fine mist of powdered snow that harmlessly dusted the bark. With her back turned to her, he watched as her shoulders sagged in frustration before looking back down at her tome as if to see where she'd gone wrong.

Unbeknownst to her, Felix recalled something he'd meant to address for some time. Realizing this was the best opportunity without interruptions, he glanced around briefly to confirm no one else was nearby. Satisfied, he rose to his feet, sheathing his blade as he silently approached Marianne.

The young woman didn't even notice who was behind her until the boy's voice made her nearly jump out of her skin. "Hey."

Marianne quickly turned, her wide eyes meeting his as she clutched the tome closer to her chest. "Oh! Felix… I didn't see you there," she stammered, her voice quieter than usual, though it was never loud to begin with.

He crossed his arms, glancing at the powdered snow that clung faintly to the bark of the tree she had been aiming for. "Ice magic, huh?" he said bluntly. "Not bad, even if it didn't hit."

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked down at her tome. "I've been practicing," she murmured. "It's… not my strongest, but I'm trying to improve."

Felix tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "Reason magic isn't my strongest either, but I know enough to use it when I need to. Annette's been tutoring you as well?"

"Oh, um… yes, a little. She's been helping me understand some of the finer points of incantation. But I still have a long way to go."

The swordsman scoffed. "I think it has less to do with 'the finer points' and more to do with intent, if your recent attempt is anything to go by."

"W-what do you mean?"

"Your technique isn't the problem. You're hesitating."

Marianne blinked, her fingers tightening on the edges of her tome. "Hesitating?"

Felix nodded, gesturing toward the tree. "Your incantation was solid, but when you threw it, you held back. You didn't commit to the spell."

She frowned slightly, as though processing his critique, then sighed. "I just… I don't want to hurt anything unless I have to."

He arched an eyebrow. "Even a tree?"

She gave a small, sheepish shrug. "Even a tree." Felix gave her a hard look, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as if studying her. Marianne shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, clutching her tome a little tighter. "I-is there something wrong?"

"It's not that something's wrong," Felix retorted after another long pause. "It's more that something about you puzzles me."

"I'm… sorry, Felix. I don't exactly follow."

Felix crossed his arms, his expression sharp yet inquisitive. "Mercedes has told me that you have this… affinity for understanding animals' emotions. Is that right?"

Marianne blinked in surprise, unsure of where the question was leading. "I suppose so. I've always been able to connect with animals. They seem to sense my feelings, and I can usually understand theirs."

He nodded. "In that case… I think it's safe for me to assume that you can also sense what the boar is feeling?"

The priestess tilted her head, her brows knitting together in genuine confusion. "I… I'm sorry, Felix, but what do you mean by that?"

"I mean, your new sparring partner." He told her, uncrossing his arms. "The boar prince."

Marianne was silent for a moment before swallowing. "You mean… Prince Dimitri?" she asked hesitantly.

"That's exactly who I mean," Felix replied, his tone blunt. "You've been training with him more than usual lately. I've noticed."

Marianne was silent for a moment, processing his words. She swallowed again, her grip on the tome tightening even further.. "I've been training with him, yes, but… I don't understand what you're trying to say."

Fraldarius paused, picking his words carefully. "I'm saying," he began slowly, "that the prince is not the kind of person you think he is."

His classmate frowned, and to her own surprise, she began to raise her voice as she said, "But… Prince Dimitri has been nothing but respectful to me. He-"

"Stop," Felix cut in irritably, and Marianne's attempt to push back on his accusations dissipated instantly. "Look, I'm not going to continue wasting my time with this, because it's not my job to babysit others over things they refuse to see. If you think the boar is exactly what he shows on the surface, fine. Stick to that if it makes you feel better." He continued, and his tone became deathly cold. "However, one thing I will say that I hope you take into heart for your own sake: If your gut feeling ever tells you something's wrong when you're around him, you'd do well to listen to it."

Without even waiting for a response, Felix had already begun to turn around and head back to camp, leaving behind a confused and unsettled Marianne in his wake as the thunderclouds gathered overhead.