The rain was beginning to come down harder as Felix made his way up the hill leading to the boar's tent. The beast had seemed to push his tent further away from the group with each passing night that they camped.

The boar wouldn't hear anything Felix had to say, he knew that all well and good. But that didn't mean he would let his old man spare the boar from having to hear it. He couldn't stand the constant dance around such an obvious truth anymore.

"What do you want?" Came the boar's low growl. Felix was only just close enough to be within speaking distance of the beast that glowered at him from the entrance flap.

"… The whole lot of them are just as lost as you are if they sincerely mean to go along with this ridiculous idea of yours," Felix said, ignoring the boar's question.

The boar stared down at him, his hair a tangled and wet mess from the rain. Felix had never been fond of eye contact from anyone — the feeling of being watched while he spoke never felt natural. But when he felt the boar's gaze on him now, it was as though he was looking entirely past him.

The beast saw no one. He assumed people's intentions for them, then lashed out at ideas that no one had voiced. He looked in Felix's direction from behind loose strands of hair, evaluating him, twisting his words.

"You call the wishes of my father ridiculous?" the boar asked menacingly. It was hardly a surprising response, at this point.

"Tch … I have no idea what your father would have wanted to do here. I'm speaking to you," Felix asserted. "You can't possibly hope to come out on top here. We're in the midst of a retreat. So, tell me now — do you understand what charging ahead would mean for us? Or are you simply that set on burying your allies right alongside your enemies?"

"Stay here then, if you do not see the point in what I do," the boar snarled, now looking off in the direction of the enemy encampment. "… I could kill them all myself."

Ravings of a madman— that was all this was. Felix had believed, back at the officer's academy, that the Dimitri he once considered his friend was already gone. At the time, he had thought the boar's calmer demeanor to be some sort of intentional guise.

But now, Felix had to admit he wished he could be speaking to any earlier version of the man. However, it was too late for that. He didn't have the Dimitri from three years ago.

Felix looked up at him, taking in a long, desperate breath.

"Those people back there will follow you wherever you lead them. If you're going out to your death, it means …" Felix gestured back toward the Kingdom's camp. "They'll go to theirs as well."

"It matters not what they're capable of," the boar growled dismissively. "I will do what needs to be done."

"My mistake …" Felix muttered with resigned contempt. "There's nothing to be gained from speaking with a crazed animal who's lost its mind."

"Then there's no use in exchanging words."

The boar looked away from him as he spoke, eyes still on the distant lights of the enemy camp — possibly expecting Felix to turn and leave.

Felix noted with anger that the boar was, not only resolute, but seemed entirely indifferent to his words or presence. He knew words held little persuasive power with the boar … beasts only understood the language of warfare and violence.

An idea sprung to Felix's mind suddenly — possibly a dangerous one, but an idea all the same.

The boar's head turned towards at the sound of a blade being drawn from its sheath. His eyes widened, his brows coming together in anger as he saw Felix pointing a sword in his direction.

"You say you can take that encampment by yourself?" Felix asked as his eyes met the boar's scowl. "Then prove it to me, boar."

He had been coming at this from the wrong angle, Felix realized. Words might be pointless … but that didn't mean there wasn't one thing that might catch the beast's attention.

"If you can't win against one swordsman … even you'll have to admit that staying here in enemy territory is pointless," Felix asserted, slowly and cautiously.

This got a cold, joyless laugh out of the boar. There was no sense of amusement on his face as it contorted into a misshapen grin that leered down at Felix.

"I won't hesitate to cut you down if you sincerely mean to stand in my way." The grin slowly died from his face to be replaced with a glare. "…You'd only be a waste of time."

"Of course you'd say something like that," Felix scoffed. "Can the boar not make distinctions between sparring partners and enemies now?"

The boar seemed to be pondering the proposition, his eyes following the end of Felix's sword. "No one's offered to spar with me in some time …" he muttered.

"Anyone with a remnant of sense wouldn't challenge a beast who'd likely forget it was only training." Felix tightened his grip on his handle with resolve — his hands had already begun to sweat with apprehension.

The boar wordlessly lowered his lance, gripping it with both his hands. His eyes were now fixated on Felix, but his gaze was glossy. It was hard to see any signs of thought behind the boar's expression as the beast studied his opponent. But whatever his inner rationale was, it was evident this had caught his attention.

If Felix could antagonize him further, perhaps it would lure him into attacking and cement the terms of the duel. He was easily angered these days, even by allies. Felix had watched as he had senselessly threatened violence upon people that he previously claimed to trust. Dedue, his father, anyone and everyone.

"Just look at you now," Felix started. "If you manage to live much longer, soon you won't even be able to string two sentences together."

"It matters not!" The boar yelled as he lunged forward with his lance. Felix jumped out of the way with only a few inches to spare.

"It doesn't matter?" Felix echoed resentfully, feeling his heart beat rapidly in his chest as he watched the boar pull back his lance for another blow.

"They deserve to enact their revenge," the boar growled. "The dead deserve their tribute!" Although the boar was engaging him, he hesitated still, as though he wasn't sure exactly what he was doing here with Felix.

"Give it a rest. That's all you've been saying on repeat for years now," Felix scoffed. "I watched people crumble around me after Duscar, but nothing that held a candle to your depravity… so, what is this really? Did the sight of slaughter leave you wanting more?"

The boar yelled as he put his full weight into lunging at Felix — it was just what he needed to throw the boar off balance. The boar outweighed him too heavily for Felix to even hope to knock him to his knees with strength alone. He needed the boar to be reckless, to put himself at risk, for Felix to get the upper hand.

As Felix sidestepped the attack, he put all his weight into attempting to catch him off guard — but all he managed was knocking the boar back a few steps before he appeared to regain his footing. The boar let out a frustrated noise at being pushed, glaring down at his opponent.

"You can't possibly understand any of this!" the boar bellowed, raising his lance for the second time.

The boar wouldn't restrain himself the same way Felix planned to, that was evident enough. Even back at the officer's academy, the boar had little control over his own strength. And that had been when he was trying not to hurt his sparring partners.

The beast who pointed a lance his way now was even less contained.

Felix felt his grip on his sword's handle becoming loose as sweat mixed with rainwater. He felt his heart beating in his chest, the sensation seeming to pulse through his entire body. He didn't need to antagonize the boar any further to keep the fight going — but all the same, he felt his anger take the reigns.

"You're right! I don't understand … because there's nothing in you to make sense of!"

The boar's lance leaped forward at him. Felix pushed himself to dodge the incoming blow, the sharp tip flying so close to his face it might have cut his hair. Frustrated by his target's movement, the boar erratically swiped downward, as if to slice Felix with the end of his lance.

"You weren't there! You can't possibly begin to imagine!" the boar screamed at him, frantically waving his weapon as though his only goal was to end the upsetting words by lodging a lance in the other man's neck. "I saw my father beheaded! I watched Glenn die! I watched him choke on his own blood as it came spewing from his mouth," the boar continued to scream, each sentence accompanied by a vicious swipe.

"SHUT UP!" Felix yelled as he lunged towards the boar, his own movements becoming erratic as well. The animal had left himself open when he raised his arms to swipe at Felix. And now Felix brought his sword down, forgetting his intended restraint.

Disarming the boar, or bringing a sword to touch the skin of his throat, should be his goal for this duel. Wounding him would only put their army at greater risk … but now, a bright red slash lay across the boar's face from his left ear to his nose.

"You think I don't know that?" Felix growled resentfully as he watched blood begin to ooze and drip down the beast's face. He felt an uncomfortable twist in his stomach that he did his best to beat down.

The boar deserved that, he told himself forcefully.

Felix jabbed the end of his sword at the boar in an attempt to hold it against his neck, but it was shot off course by the boar's lance, pushing his blade to the right. The boar was able to take a few steps back and wipe his hand against his face before he brought his palm back, bloodied. He gazed quietly at the red stain.

"I should have died that day," the boar said, his voice barely audible.

"That mind of yours …" Felix scoffed, still gripping the handle of his sword as they stood motionless. "If you're so keen on dying, spare us the collateral damage and go out on that suicide mission by yourself."

This grabbed the beast's attention. The boar's bloodshot eyes suddenly looked up from his hands, his gaze focused on Felix with a newfound sense of recognition.

"Is that what you'd want? My death?"

Felix stayed silent as the boar looked at him. He hadn't expected anything he said here to be genuinely considered … but he realized suddenly that the beast leaving by himself would be the preferable outcome, if it could truly happen. If Felix couldn't stop him, the boar would lead more people to their deaths in the next battle, and then the next … and the next, until the ground below their feet gave way entirely.

Felix felt his frustration mounting as he glared back up at the beast.

No, he didn't need to consider this. He could still win — he could best the beast, and show him his limits.

He knew it wouldn't be easy. In the years since the officer's academy, while many people had gone thin and hungry as war plagued their lands, the boar had only seemed to grow taller and stronger. The large figure towered over Felix as he stared down at his opponent, waiting for an answer to his question that didn't come.

Felix's silence only seemed to enrage the boar king further. Suddenly, he gripped his lance tightly yet again and plunged it toward him. This time, Felix was able to sidestep with just enough space to reach out and grab the lance's handle. Before he could think, he tried to pull the weapon out from the boar's extended arms.

He might as well have been trying to strain against a mountain. The boar, frustrated, pulled back on his lance, trying to free it from his opponent's grasp.

Felix, still holding onto the lance, was instantly flung forward.

Getting the weapon away from the boar had been his best option, but he now found himself much too close to the beast. With his free hand, he swung his blade towards his foe. But the boar had caught on too quickly.

Suddenly, an impossibly heavy force hammered into his torso and sent him falling backward. The boar had kicked him square in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

Felix hit the mud with a cold thud as pain shot up his spine. He attempted to gasp desperately for air before the heel of the boar's armored boot painfully pressed down against his chest, crushing him. He struggled to even cough beneath the pressure of the boar's full weight. The animal only continued to lean towards him, increasing the weight as his eyes studied Felix's face for any sign of a fight left within him.

Or perhaps he simply intended to watch the man below his weight suffocate to death.

Felix fumbled blindly, feeling the cold metal of his sword's hilt against the very tips of his fingers. He made a motion to grab his weapon, but just as quickly as he managed to scoot the handle into his grasp, he felt a deep surge of pain. The dull end of the boar's lance forcefully dug into his wrist as he stifled a reactionary groan of pain. He felt the boar's free hand yank the sword away, bringing Felix's own weapon a mere centimeter away from his neck.

"F-fine," Felix wheezed, shutting his eyes against the rain falling over his face. "Go. I can't stop you."

"Answer my question," the boar growled, still holding the sword to his throat.

Felix could only focus on steadying his breath enough to keep his neck a safe distance from the blade pushing against his skin. There was a beat of silence before the beast broke it once more.

"Tell me!" the boar commanded as he glared down at Felix.

"Do anyone's wishes— let alone mine— even matter to you anymore?" Felix asked, his voice hoarse. "You've been a walking corpse for far too long. Might as well make it official."

Felix felt the weight of the boar's body lift away as he stepped back, sword still held limply in his hand. Felix released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding as he struggled to push himself up. Every muscle in his back screamed against his movements as he willed himself to a standing position. Although the physical weight had left his chest, his heart still beat rapidly. He realized his lack of air had been partially due to fear as he steadied himself. The monstrous force that could have killed him still stood there, but all signs of a fight had left him.

"I'll … take that encampment myself. Alone," the boar muttered, not looking towards Felix.

Somehow, the beast suddenly looked nearly as beaten down as Felix felt.

So … that was it, then. Felix had considered Dimitri already lost to him for years now, but it was another thing entirely to face his imminent death. His emotions were always at war with themselves when it came to the boar — fear, resentment, guilt, nostalgia, and …

"What happened to you?" Felix heard himself ask. He looked up at the boar who silently stared out at the enemy base. "I used to…" Felix started, but faded off, not sure what he wanted to say.

Felix might as well have been talking to himself now. There was no one here who would listen to him, not really.

The creature that had been Dimitri didn't meet Felix's gaze, nor make any acknowledgment of his words.

A brief memory flashed before him of younger versions of himself and Dimitri sparring with their father's weapons — although, "sparring" was a generous word to attribute to the two ten-year-old's who would play tag with training swords.

He had spent nearly his whole life with Dimitri in it. Being with him had often felt like home, but a home with a foundation that was breaking. It now seemed that, finally, he would be walking out as the surrounding walls collapsed.

He's as good as dead now, Felix thought to himself as he looked at the shell of a person he had, at one time, considered his best friend. There didn't seem to be anyone behind those glassy eyes of his as they once again looked out over Felix's shoulder.

The boar's coat was soaked through with mud, rain, and traces of blood as Felix grabbed hold of it and brought Dimitri's vacant face down to his own.

𓆩 𓆪

When Dimitri felt the sensation of a pair of lips pressed to his own, he didn't register what it was.

… What was the man doing?

The person who had just cut his face and told him he wanted him dead was now pressing his mouth to his own. Dimitri stepped back, away from the contact. Felix only gave him another hard look as he gained enough distance to properly see at the other's face.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment before Dimitri turned away towards the distant fires of the enemy encampment — and walked away. If his own death could be achieved alongside his revenge, he would make sure to fulfill it. Without his army, without anyone but himself.

Waiting for them, sparring, it had all been a waste of time that could have been spent out there. He had no need for allies — they would only get in his way.