Archive of Our Own ^beta

The knock on his door startled Ashe awake. What time was it? Ashe opened the door and found Dimitri standing in front of him. He was panting, as if he’d sprinted all the way there.

“Ashe, thank the saints,” Dimitri huffed. “I need to ask you something urgent.”

Ashe sat up. It was the middle of the night, and Lonato’s manor was quiet. He wasn’t sure what had awakened him, but the faintly glowing silhouette in front of him made it obvious enough. The shape was just clear enough to resemble the figure of a young girl. Besides that, the dull light had no distinct features. Ashe, however, already knew who it was. When she spoke, that just confirmed it.

“Daighre,” she said softly. “I need your help.”

Ashe’s jaw trembled when he tried to speak. Finally, he forced the words out.

“I… I can’t,” he muttered. He hadn’t been Daighre for a long time. “The people here need me. The kids lost their parents when they were too young to remember. I’ve been taking care of them ever since. And Lonato… his son was killed.” Ashe’s voice slipped into a whisper at the admission. “I’m all they have. I love them. I can’t leave them.”

The vague form was quiet, as if she was thinking. 

“What do they call you?” she wondered.

“Ashe.”

There was a playful chuckle that seemed to echo through the air. “Ashe… I like that, but I won’t be using it until I talk some sense into you. You’ve always had such a bleeding heart, Daighre. That’s admirable in the right situation, but this is the fate of the whole continent at stake. You won’t be able to keep your family safe if war breaks out. And trust me, it will. At least hear me out?”

Ashe sighed. “Fine.”

“You should be grateful I went out of my way to come talk to you,” the girl scolded. “It’s not exactly easy, you know.”

“Sorry,” Ashe half-heartedly offered. She let out a dramatic sigh.

“Well, it’s fine. I need you to get into the Officers’ Academy at the monastery. Act as a regular student and try to inject some compassion into the place. My current vessel managed to send me back to before everything went wrong. I have my memories, but she doesn’t. We need you to help the prince. If you don’t… Well, the outcome was so bad the first time that we’ve had to go back over and over just to try and fix it.”

Ashe leaned back on his hands. “That’s a big ask,” he noted. “I mean, I’ll have to avoid Seiros. She’ll recognize me, certainly.”

“Oh, please, she hasn’t seen you in centuries.” The light form shifted as she observed Ashe. “Maybe you should dye your hair, though.”

Almost unconsciously, Ashe reached up and twirled a lock of his pale green hair between his fingers. She was right.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he said. “Just start from the beginning. What exactly do you need me to do?”

“Ashe, I think it’s a wonderful idea! But I have to ask, why the sudden interest in the Officers’ Academy?” Lonato asked. He and Ashe were baking a cake for Ashe’s little brother when Ashe decided to broach the topic. Lonato didn’t know Ashe was Saint Daighre. He’d almost certainly guessed that something was off about him, what with the fact that he hadn’t aged in the seven years he’d been living with him, but there was no way of knowing how much Lonato truly knew.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I didn’t want to bring it up until I was sure,” Ashe lied. “I think there’s a lot I can learn from the professors there, and it will be nice to meet people with similar interests.” At least it wasn’t all lies. Ashe felt a little guilty about being dishonest, but he hoped he could make it up to Lontato and his siblings one day. There would come the right time to tell them everything. Ashe just had to hope that they wouldn’t treat him any differently when he did. 

Lonato gave him a proud nod and heartily patted him on the back.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’ve taken such an interest! I’ll write to the monastery and we can have you start the admission process as soon as we hear back.”

Ashe grinned at him and wrapped him in a hug. “Thank you, Lonato.” You don’t know, but you might be saving Fodlan.

After the War of Heroes, the Five Saints went their separate ways. It is unknown what happened to them during this time, but there were many legends and stories of the period that seem to point to the Saints continuing to help humanity. There were countless tales of a kind young woman visiting a sick ward, only for the occupants to be cured the next day. There were legends of a mysterious beast protecting villages from wild animals or helping with the harvest before a particularly harsh winter. Children who lost their parents to sickness or starvation were often taken care of by a ubiquitous “older brother” figure until they found other accommodations or were old enough to be independent. 

The humans of the time might not have known it, but looking at these strange occurrences with a modern eye can give us more insight into who these mythological figures might have been. The previous examples were likely to be Saint Cethleann, Saint Macuil, and Saint Daighre respectively. Small miracles like these were how the Saints continued to carry out the Goddess’ will, even after the War of Heroes.

-Excerpt from a history textbook written by the Church of Seiros

Ashe spent the next few weeks taking entrance exams, gathering recommendation letters, and packing to leave for the monastery. When the day came to leave, he hugged both his siblings tightly and promised to write to them when he got settled in. Lonato was practically glowing with pride.

“I’m proud of you, Ashe,” he said when Ashe approached him. “You’ll make a wonderful knight.”

Ashe couldn’t help but smile at the praise. “Thank you. I’ll work hard.”

“I know you will.”

Ashe mounted his horse and waved goodbye to his family as he rode away. Gaspard was only about a day’s ride away from Garreg Mach Monastery, so he would be much closer to home than most of the other students. The first thing Ashe did when he was out of sight of the town was stop and pull out the bottle he’d stowed inside one of his bags. It was supposed to bleach his hair--currently a dull sage green--to a more inconspicuous dirty blond, which was far more common among residents of Faerghus. He applied the sticky solution to his hair and kept riding. After a few hours had passed, he stopped again and washed the dye off. 

…Grey. Ashe’s hair had turned a silvery grey. He looked ridiculous! Ashe mentally chastised himself for not testing the dye ahead of time. Well, it was too late to change it now. At least the green was hidden, and that was what really mattered. He might stand out a bit more with grey hair than blond, but they were both better than the green. Green was conspicuous. It would attract the archbishop’s attention, and if he wanted to get his mission done, he needed to be seen as a regular student.

Ashe kept traveling until he made it to the city that surrounded the monastery. The monastery was located on a mountain. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but it was about to. Ashe was more than a little exhausted, so he was ready to get checked in to the academy and lay down for the night. The monastery’s entrance hall was crowded with soon-to-be students waiting to check in. One of the knights took Ashe’s horse to the stables, and Ashe joined the line. As he did, the girl in front of him whirled around, grinning. She had bright orange hair tied into two loops and a cheery smile.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” She greeted happily. “This is so exciting, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Ashe replied excitedly.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself! My name’s Annette. I’m in the Blue Lions, what about you?” 

Ashe smiled. “I’m Ashe. I’m also joining the Blue Lions.”

Annette squealed and jumped up and down a few times. “No way, we’re gonna be classmates!” She glanced behind her and realized she’d reached the front of the line. “Oooh, it’s my turn. Nice to meet you, Ashe!” She waved goodbye and approached the check-in table.

Ashe was next. As he stepped up to the table and made eye contact with the man who was sitting there, his face dropped.

Cichol? There’s no way.

The other man had a similar expression of surprise and confusion, but he composed himself much more quickly.

“Ah, my apologies. You… reminded me of someone,” he said. His eyes went narrow with suspicion, but he continued to act as if he thought Ashe was just a student. “Name?”

“Ashe Ubert.” As he said it, Ashe winced. For the first time, he wished his name was less on-the-nose. For crying out loud, he was a fire dragon! The man looked puzzled, but he still didn’t say anything about it.

“Um… I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ashe. My name is Seteth; I’m an advisor to the archbishop.”

Ashe put on his best innocent face. “It’s nice to meet you too, sir,” he said with a smile. “I’m glad to be here.”

There was no way Seteth was actually Cichol, was there? There had to be another explanation for his green hair, his eerily familiar face, his own strange reaction to seeing Ashe. Ashe just couldn’t think of one at the moment.

“I just need to know your date of birth for our records,” Seteth prompted.

“Ah, Wyvern 16th,” Ashe quickly lied, moving his birthday forward by one day. Maybe it would have been less suspicious if he’d picked another month entirely, but he wasn’t that quick of a thinker. At least he’d had enough foresight not to say his actual birthday. Seteth was clearly already suspicious of him, and if he heard Ashe say his real birthday, which also happened to be Saint Daighre Day, that would not help the situation. “Imperial Year 1160.”

The year, at least, Ashe had prepared for. It was harder than he thought it would be to guess what was the youngest age he could believably claim. Like all the other surviving Nabateans, Ashe had stopped aging physically long ago. Ashe’s age freeze had happened in his mid twenties, although he couldn’t remember exactly how old he’d been. For the first time in his life, the fact that he had always appeared slightly younger than he was was working to his advantage. He figured that he could get away with saying he was nineteen, but anything younger than that would likely look suspicious. Ashe had been worried about standing out among the students, but glancing around the entrance hall, he was less concerned. The other students seemed to have a wide range of ages, from their mid teens up to their early twenties. Ashe figured he would fit in just fine.

Seteth marked something in his logbook. “Thank you. Head up the stairs behind me and some of our professors will help you with a quick physical examination. After that, someone can show you to your room.”

“Thank you,” Ashe said, his posture going ramrod straight.  He picked up his bags and practically sprinted away from Seteth. On the upper level of the entrance hall, there were staff members helping the students who’d gone before Ashe. An older man with a monocle and well-groomed mustache waved Ashe over. 

“Good evening, welcome to the Officers’ Academy,” he greeted. “I am Hanneman. I’ll be one of your professors. Can I have your name?”

“Ashe Ubert,” Ashe said again. Hanneman pulled out a notebook and flipped to a page toward the end.

“Thank you. I’ll have you step over here so I can record your height.”

Ashe followed where he motioned without a word. Hanneman muttered under his breath as he recorded the statistics.

“Hmm… 176 centimeters. Excellent, thank you, Ashe. The other thing I’ll need from you is to hold your hand over this device.” Hanneman patted a mechanical device that resembled a table with a blank, white top. “This tests for the presence of a crest. Since we don’t have anything on file for you, we think it’s prudent to check if there’s anything there that hasn’t been discovered yet.”

Ashe froze for a split second, then held his arm over the sensor. It would look suspicious if he refused the test, especially after the Crest of Daighre inevitably showed itself in combat. For a few seconds, the shadow of Ashe’s gloved hand shaded the machine, then the shape faded into a circular symbol. Ashe tried to look surprised.

“W-What does that mean?” He asked frantically, turning toward Hanneman. The professor stared at the crest, a look of mild shock on his face.

“That, my boy, means you possess a crest,” he softly explained. “The Major Crest of Daighre. Fascinating! I’ve never met a bearer of a major Daighre crest!” He excitedly jotted something down in the notebook and turned back towards Ashe, a grin on his face. He seemed like a completely different person than the stoic, composed man he’d been before.

“Ashe, my boy, I’d be very interested to learn more about you. Do you know where your ancestors were from? I wonder if the crest has affected your constitution, especially considering you didn’t know about it before. Would you--”

“Hanneman, quit harassing the students!” A woman with a brown bob called from across the room. Hanneman scoffed.

“Ugh, she doesn’t understand my academic pursuits,” he complained to Ashe. “Well, have a good  evening, Ashe. I hope we can become well-acquainted! I’d love to show you my lab sometime so we can find out more about your crest.”

“Uh, good night,” Ashe squealed as he quickly backed away. That couldn’t possibly have gone worse. Why did he even try? If Hanneman breathed a word of this to the archbishop, Ashe’s identity was sure to be discovered.

Ashe finally settled into his bedroom on the first floor of the dormitories. He melted into bed and went to sleep without even unpacking.

Classes didn’t start until next week, but Ashe was supposed to meet all his classmates tomorrow. That was when his mission started. 

He needed to save Prince Dimitri.

“The little prince felt guilty that he was the sole survivor of the Tragedy of Duscar,” Sothis explained. “The pressure he put on himself made him go mad.”

“Why couldn’t you go back and stop the massacre from happening in the first place?” Ashe asked, his voice bordering on accusatory. “Surely that would solve the issue.” 

Sothis choked on her words. “I… we tried,” She quietly admitted “My vessel didn’t have enough power. This is as far back as I’ve ever been able to get.”

“I see…” Ashe frowned and stroked his chin. “So you want me to go to the Academy and help his highness see reason?”

“Don’t let his rage consume him,” Sothis pleaded. “There’s no way for you to stop the war, so don’t even try. I’ve gone back dozens of times. There is always war, but what we can do is minimize casualties. I can’t get through to the prince without a body of my own, and my vessel doesn’t retain memories when we go back. Every time, I try to explain things from the beginning. Every time, she is skeptical. She doesn’t start to believe me until the prince is already too far gone. That’s why I have to ask you to try this time.”

Ashe gave a slow nod. “I understand,” he said. “But why me? Why not go to Seiros or one of the other saints?” 

Sothis hesitated. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know if they would be helpful. Macuil and Indech are stuck in their beastly forms, and they seem… rather hostile. When I said that I still have my memories, I only meant memories of previous loops. Before that, I have nothing, so I don’t know what they were like before. As for Seiros… She's changed. Like the prince, she was ravaged by grief. She went to lengths that no one should, just to bring me back. I don’t trust her to treat the situation with the care it deserves. Cethleann and Cichol have sided with her, I think. I was never able to find out much about them…” Sothis awkwardly trailed off. “I don’t know what Seiros was like before, but she did awful things to my vessel and I on some of the loops. I want to help everyone, if I can. Including Seiros. I just don’t think she’s stable enough to take on the responsibility.”

Ashe’s frown grew even deeper. “I see…” he paused and thought for a moment. “In that case, you must have met me in a previous loop, is that true?”

If it were possible, Sothis’ featureless form looked rather uncomfortable. 

“Yes. I’m not going to tell you what the circumstances were, though,” she huffed. Ashe almost laughed at the assertion.

“Um, okay. Why?”

“You don’t want to know,” she insisted. “Trust me. It’s better if you don’t.”

Ashe opened his mouth to argue, but decided against it. “Fine,” he mumbled. Sothis laughed at him.

“What, are you angry at me? Don’t be childish,” she taunted. “Anyway, once I go back to my vessel, I won’t be able to speak with you again. It takes too much power to manifest separately from her. You’ll meet Byleth at the academy. Please do anything you can to help her out.”

“I will,” Ashe assured.

“I’ll be watching,” Sothis told him. “I can’t speak to you, but I’ll still be with you. Thank you for agreeing to do this for me, Daighre.”

“You’re welcome,” Ashe whispered. He blinked, and she was gone.

Ashe discovered the morning after he arrived at Garreg Mach that the Blue Lions class was distinctly separated into two halves; those who were punctual, and those who were extremely not.

Ashe was the second person to arrive at the classroom where they were all supposed to rendezvous. The girl who was already there had long blond hair loosely braided down her back and a training spear strapped to her shoulder.

“Ah, good morning!” She greeted with a wave. “You’re in this year’s class too, right?”

“I am,” Ashe confirmed. “Ashe Ubert, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Ingrid Brandl Galatea.” Ingrid held out her hand and gave Ashe’s a hearty shake. The pair couldn’t get in any more words of introduction before they were joined by the final members of team “punctual.” Two men walked into the classroom, already engrossed in their own conversation.  One of them was broad-shouldered and dark-skinned, with whitish hair pulled into a short ponytail on one side of his head. The other had blue eyes and a choppy blond hairstyle. Alongside the black and gold uniform that the others wore, he also sported a blue cape, designating him as the class leader. Ah. So this was Prince Dimitri. Ashe observed him for a few seconds. He appeared… startlingly normal. On the outside, he didn’t look like he was wrestling with the guilt from the Tragedy of Duscar that Sothis had mentioned. Although, Ashe supposed, if it were obvious, someone would have helped him work through it before his anger bubbled over and Ashe’s presence wouldn’t be necessary at all. Dimitri gave Ashe and Ingrid a tight-lipped smile.

“Good morning, Ingrid. And… I don’t believe we’ve met yet,” he said to Ashe. Ashe gave him an especially big smile, trying to look open and kind.

“We haven’t. I’m Ashe.” They shook hands. Dimitri’s eyes went slightly wider when their skin connected and he had to clear his throat before he spoke again.

“D-Dimitri,” he introduced. “And this is Dedue.”

“Good morning,” Dedue dipped his head in Ashe’s direction.

The four of them simply waited around for another twenty minutes. No one else from the Blue Lions house appeared. 

“Should we go wake them up?” Ingrid wondered. “We were supposed to get breakfast together, but if we wait much longer, I don’t think it will be breakfast time any more.”

“I’m sorry,” Dimitri said with a slight awkward chuckle. “I figured everyone would be awake by now, but maybe the time I picked was too early.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “It’s not your fault, your highness. If they had any discipline, they would be awake by now. I’ll go grab Felix and Sylvain.”

“In that case, I shall search for Annette and Mercedes,” Dedue volunteered, standing up and following after Ingrid. Ashe couldn’t have asked for a better opening. He and Dimtiri sat in silence for a few moments, before Dimitri broached the barrier.

“So, where are you from, Ashe?” 

“I’m from Gaspard, Your Highness,” Ashe cheerfully answered. “Before I came here, I helped my adoptive father take care of the territory. Most of the time, that just meant helping the townspeople by watching their kids when they had to travel, though,” Ashe admitted with a laugh. Dimitri got that wide-eyed, blank, entranced expression again. Ashe couldn’t tell for the life of him what it meant.

“Ah, that sounds…” Dimitri thought for a moment, a peaceful smile slowly falling across his features. “Lovely. Can I ask what brought you to the Officers’ Academy?”

Ashe nodded and leaned back in his seat, draping one arm over the back of the chair. “I’ve always loved reading the legends about past knights. I want to make a difference in the world. You know, I want to help as many people as I can. And I figure that this is a good way to do that.”

Dimtri smiled. “That’s a very noble motivation. Goddess, I swear one of our classmates is just here to pick up women. He was a childhood friend of mine, but he’s somewhat of a skirt chaser nowadays.”

Ashe giggled. “That’s interesting… I met some of the kids from the other houses yesterday. It seems like most of them have pretty big personalities. Maybe your friend will fit in here after all?”

Dimitri started to speak, but he went quiet when Dedue reappeared in the classroom entrance. He sat back down next to Dimitri, apparently having been unsuccessful in locating Mercedes and Annette. He looked a little uncomfortable.

“Um. Apologies, your highness. Annette said that she and Mercedes would join us as soon as they were able to locate Mercedes’ undergarments. Apparently she lost them somewhere in her luggage.”

Ashe clapped a hand over his mouth to hide his laugh, and Dimitri just looked puzzled.

“It was probably best not to press them, in that case,” he finally agreed. “Good job, Dedue.”

Dedue chuckled and looked at the floor. “Thank you.”

Mere seconds later, Ingrid arrived again. Apparently she had much more luck in finding the remaining two members of their class. She practically had to drag a tall, red-headed boy into the classroom, and she was trailed by another man with thin eyes and dark hair in a disheveled bun on top of his head.

“Found them,” Ingrid flatly announced. The boy she was dragging pulled away and rubbed his shoulder.

“Yeah, now let go!” He screeched. “You’re gonna mess up my hair.”

The dark-haired boy behind Ingrid scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “For Sothis’ sake, Sylvain, get your priorities straight.”

Dedue cleared his throat. “Is anyone else getting hungry?”

Ashe, Ingrid, and Dimitri all raised their hands. 

“Good. I was under the impression that this meeting was to have breakfast as a class,” Dedue sighed. Dimtiri clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Let’s head to the dining hall. Mercedes and Annette will find us when they’re ready.”

That was how Ashe found himself seated between Dimitri, and the dark-haired boy, who he learned was named Felix, at an overcrowded table in the dining hall. Apparently the Golden Deer and about half of the Black Eagles had the same idea of having a class meal, so the three classes sat together and quickly merged into one big group instead of three mixed ones. It felt more like a social event than an icebreaker. Ashe already felt like part of the group. Everyone was very friendly. Well… most of them, anyway. Felix was a little too busy getting angry at Sylvain to pay much attention to Ashe, but that was okay. After about five more minutes, Annette and Mercedes reappeared and joined in as well.

It was such a picturesque scene, like something out of a novel. A big group of schoolkids, eating together and playfully yelling at each other across the table. If Ashe hadn’t heard the stories with his own ears, he never would have thought that in just a year, the same group of students would be killing each other.

If Ashe had anything to say about it, they wouldn’t be.

He knew what Sothis had said; that the best he could hope for was to minimize casualties, not stop the war entirely. But he could always hope. He would never know until he tried.

The day before classes were supposed to start, Professor Byleth finally made her appearance. She seemed reserved, stoic, and a little shy. Once she had been assigned to the Blue Lion House as their homeroom professor, she made it a point to get to know the students a little bit better. On the second day of classes, Ashe was admiring some of the rare plants in the greenhouse when she approached him. She walked so quietly, it was almost eerie.

“Oh, hello, professor,” Ashe greeted. “Did you come to look at the plants too?”

She nodded.

“Oh, cool. This greenhouse is pretty incredible. I haven’t seen some of these plants in--I mean, I thought some of them went extinct centuries ago. It’s fascinating that we’re able to restore them, don’t you think?”

Byleth tipped her head to one side. Ashe squinted as he looked into her blue eyes, almost as if he’d be able to see Sothis behind her gaze if he looked hard enough. Are you watching, Sothis? Ashe wondered. Can you tell if anything has changed yet?

“You seem well-informed on the subject,” Byleth noted. Ashe waved her off, though he was secretly flattered.

“Ah, thank you. My adoptive father is the real expert. I knew a little about botany before I met him, but he taught me most of what I know.”

“Interesting.” Byleth blinked once. “Well, have fun.” She crossed the aisle and struck up a conversation with the greenhouse keeper. Ashe left soon after, only to run into Hanneman again by the fishing pond.

“Oh, Ashe, just the man I was looking for!” He said with a smile. “I do hope you’re not busy. I’ve been talking with Linhardt--he’s a student here who’s rather gifted in crest research--and I was reminded that we never finished our chat! I was hoping you could come with me for a few more tests…” He kept talking, but Ashe stopped paying attention. He glanced around, toward the pond and dining hall, trying to think of a way to get out of more crest testing. 

But then he spotted her. None other than Cethleann was standing in the doorway to the dining hall. This time it was absolutely unmistakable; there was no element of uncertainty like there had been with Seteth. Whoever that girl was claiming to be, she was definitely the Cethleann Ashe had once known. She was halfway facing Ashe, so it was a miracle she hadn’t already seen him. If she weren’t already engrossed in a conversation with one of the students from the Black Eagles, Ashe probably would have been caught. He needed to get out of here before she saw him. 

Ashe did the only thing he could think of for a quick escape and interrupted Hanneman’s explanation of the tests.

“Sure! Lead the way!”

“You see, I was fascinated to see that you possess the Major Crest of Daighre for a few different reasons,” Hanneman rambled as he led Ashe to his office on the second floor of the main monastery building. “Minor Crests of Daighre are of average rarity among crest bearers; not particularly common or uncommon. On the other hand, the last known bearer of the Major Crest died over forty years ago. It’s likely that they were a distant relative of yours, and the recessive crest presented itself in you. You have younger siblings, don’t you? Perhaps one of them—”

“Oh, I’m not related to them by blood,” Ashe quickly interjected. It was one thing for him to be wrapped up in this, but he didn’t want to get them involved as well. “I took them in when their parents died, and we think of each other as family.”

 “Ah, I see,” Hanneman sighed, sounding slightly disappointed. “Well, no matter. Of course, being born a commoner, you weren’t tested at birth as most noble children are, so that’s probably how the crest has existed within you undetected for the past nineteen years.”

Ashe nodded along as Hanneman spoke. Maybe it was a good thing to let Hanneman come up with his own theory. If there was a more normal explanation for Ashe’s crest, maybe people would be less likely to assume an unusual origin. Maybe Seteth, who Ashe was now almost certain was actually Cichol, would have just enough plausible deniability as to not confront Ashe about his clearly suspicious origin. 

He doubted it, but he could hope.

As annoying as the tests were, Ashe was now hopeful that they would end up helping him at the end of the day. Maybe he was just being overly optimistic, but this might end up working in his favor

Ashe tried to spend as much time with Dimitri as possible. He hoped he could provide the support the prince needed. He hoped that Dimitri would be comfortable enough to open up to Ashe about the Tragedy of Duscar before the war started creeping in. 

Ashe found himself wondering if Dimitri’s feelings toward the tragedy were anything like Ashe’s own feelings toward the other Nabateans. Nemesis had killed most of them at Zanado a millennium ago. Ashe had only survived on dumb luck, as he’d been living outside Zanado at the time. He sometimes wondered why he’d been granted life among all the others. Why was he now worshipped as a saint when he’d never done anything to truly deserve it? The War of Heroes, gifting his blood to form a Crest, taking in all those children… he’d only done what anyone else would. Ashe knew he had nothing to be ashamed of, but the guilt that he had survived when others hadn’t even had the chance to fight never fully faded. He wondered if Dimitri could relate to that feeling. Ashe had to hope that Dimitri would one day be willing to talk about it, then he could find out. Perhaps Ashe was being too cautious, but he didn’t want to put Dimitri off by directly asking him about the tragedy. It wouldn’t be genuine unless Dimitri wanted to speak about it willingly, and Ashe didn’t want to dredge up his trauma until Dimitri was ready.

As the weeks passed, Ashe also found himself wondering if maybe Dimitri would want to hear about Ashe’s doubts as well. 

Ashe hoped so. Dimitri was surprisingly easy to talk to.

“Good morning, your highness,” Ashe greeted with a smile. He was sitting in his usual spot in the Blue Lions’ classroom, waiting for class to start. Dimitri opted to take the empty seat right next to him.

“Morning, Ashe. You know, it’s fine if you just call me ‘Dimitri.’” Please, please, call me Dimitri. I need to hear how my name would sound in your voice…

Ashe laughed. “Okay, if you say so.”

He’d said the same thing every other time. It never lasted more than a day.

Dimitri tried desperately to think of something to say. Saints, he was bad at this. Mercifully, Ashe spoke first, once again proving that he was the genuine counterpart to everything Dimitri pretended he was.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you something. What’s your favorite food?”

Dimitri’s eyebrows raised at the question. “I’d have to think about that… Why do you ask?”

Ashe went slightly red. “Well, I was hoping to cook for the class sometime, so I’ve been trying to figure out everyone’s likes and dislikes.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you like to cook,” Dimitri noted. Ashe excitedly nodded.

“I love it!” He said with a grin. Dimitri thought for a moment.

“Well… My favorite dishes are all things I enjoyed when I was little. Sweet buns and saghert and cream come to mind. I guess I have a bit of a sweet tooth.”

Ashe nodded. “Ooh, me too! I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Dimitri.”

“Of course!” Dimitri tried to ignore the way his heart soared when Ashe said his name.

Just then, Professor Byleth entered the classroom and started lessons for the day, but Dimitri was struggling to focus. He’d never met anyone as earnest and hardworking as Ashe. He really was what Dimitri wished he could be. Instead, Dimitri had to try his hardest to imitate how he wanted so desperately to behave. He had to act as if the ghosts of his parents and all the knights who died in the Tragedy of Duscar weren’t tormenting him for revenge. He had to act as if he wasn’t a monster just for surviving when no one else had.

Dimitri was a good actor. But acting was all it was.

He needed to stop himself from getting close to Ashe. As much as he wanted to, Dimitri would just make things worse.

That’s why he did his best to ignore the way his breath fluttered when Ashe smiled at him, the way he wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

Dimitri tried to watch Ashe through his peripheral vision. Goddess, he was beautiful. The light from a nearby window fell directly across his face, almost making him glow. His freckles were a dark contrast against his pale face, his green eyes both relaxed and attentive as he listened to Professor Byleth’s lecture. 

…Well. Surely, a little bit of watching couldn’t hurt.

Lonato’s hand trembled around the shaft of his lance.

Christophe would be avenged.

The central church would rot for what they’d done to him.

Byleth left the audience chamber, a flat expression on her face. She’d just received her class’ mission assignment for the month. It was a worrying one.

Once Byleth found an empty hallway, she leaned against the cool stone wall to decompress. She had to figure something out. 

“Lonato is Ashe’s father,” Sothis reminded from the back of Byleth’s mind.

“I know.” Byleth crossed her arms as she thought. “I should talk to him about it.”

“I would think so!” Sothis scolded. “I figure he would appreciate the warning. Now, get going. We don’t have all day!”

Byleth nodded, outwardly unaffected by the harshness in Sothis’ words. “Okay.”

She found Ashe in the library with Annette and Dimitri. Ashe was perched on one of the ladders to the upper shelves, retrieving select books on the way down. As Byleth entered, Annette was calling up to him,

“Ashe, do you see ‘The Chemistry of Reason’ up there?”

Ashe reached for a deep red book and partially twisted his torso to show it to her. 

“Is it this--oh, hello professor!”

“Hello,” Byleth said. “Do you mind if I join you for a moment?”

“Course not!” Annette assured. Dimitri just silently motioned to the empty chair across from him. Byleth was a little surprised to see him in the library; it was much more common to find him in the training ground. He propped his chin on his hand and watched as Ashe descended the ladder while balancing his precarious stack of books. Dimitri sported the same easy smile that Byleth often saw on his face, but this one looked different. This time, some of the calm reached his eyes. 

Byleth didn’t know what that could possibly mean.

“You’re so naive, he obviously likes Ashe,” Sothis reprimanded. She giggled a bit, sounding more sinister with every word. “This is going well.”

Byleth ignored her. 

“What are you three up to?” She asked. 

Ashe sat down next to Dimitri and dropped the books on the table in front of Annette. “Just studying. Annette offered to help us with math, and we were going to head down to the training ground to spar for a bit when we’re done here.”

Byleth nodded. “Well, that’s very diligent of you, good job. Ashe, I was hoping I could talk to you about something outside. I’ll just need a few minutes, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Um,” Ashe glanced at Dimitri, then Annette, looking concerned. “Sure. Is something wrong?”

“No,” Byleth assured. They left the library and stood in the hallway outside. Ashe looked distinctly nervous.

“Professor, is this about…” Ashe started to speak, but then trailed off. “What is it?”

“I wanted to tell you that Lord Lonato started a rebellion against the church. Our mission this month is to help with the cleanup. I’m telling the rest of the class tomorrow, but I thought you should know.”

Ashe blinked and his concerned expression went blank. Whatever he’d been expecting her to tell him, it was clear that he’d been caught off-guard. 

“I…” He stammered out a few incoherent syllables, then took a deep breath to calm himself down. “Are you joking?”

“Joking?” Byleth asked incredulously. Ashe glanced at her and shrugged.

“Sorry, but that’s… really hard to believe,” he said breathily. He looked a little dazed. “Well… if that’s all… thank you for telling me, professor.” He turned back to the library, but Byleth stopped him.

“Are you really okay?” She asked. “You don’t have to come with us. You can stay here if you need to.”

For the first time, Ashe gave her a small smile.

“Thank you professor. I’ll think about it and get back to you, okay?”

Byleth nodded. “Okay. If… If you need to talk about it, my door is open.” The words were foreign to Byleth, but she knew it was the type of thing that teachers should say to their students. Byleth desperately wanted to be a good teacher, but she often felt so out of her depth. She wanted to be there for her students, but she didn’t usually understand their emotions.  But she did her best, and she hoped that was enough. 

“Thank you,” Ashe said before entering the library again, his previous cheerful expression replaced with a blank, dazed one.

The fog disappeared when the mage was killed. The battlefield was now clear, and Byleth could see more militia ahead. Among them was a stern-faced man on a horse. Lord Lonato. The rage on his face was unmistakable.

“The fog has cleared… There’s nothing left to hide you or the filthy Central Church from the judgement of the goddess!" He yelled across the battlefield. To Byleth’s left and right, Dedue and Ingrid both shied away from Lonato’s words.

“We’ll be okay,” Byleth assured her students, before rushing in at a sprint.

Before she could reach Lonato, a boy jumped between them. He must have been hiding in the trees above them, because it almost appeared as if he’d materialized from nothing. He had neatly trimmed sage-colored hair, and sharp green eyes to match. He held two daggers in his hands, each blade enveloped by an unnatural green flame. In the darkness of the battlefield, his face seemed almost magnetic. The voice in the back of Byleth’s mind gasped.

“Who is that?” She wondered. “Why is he so familiar?”

“Lonato,” the boy said sternly. “What in the goddess’ name is going on here?”

“I--” Lonato’s jaw fell open in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Answer my question,” the boy insisted. The whole battlefield seemed to be holding its breath. Miraculously, the fighting had temporarily halted in surprise at his mysterious appearance. Lonato spluttered, then the anger quickly returned to his face.

“The Central Church had Christophe killed,” he spat. “If you don’t understand why they need to be quelled, you are not my son.”

“If everyone settles down and we have a rational discussion, we can come to an agreement,” The boy insisted. 

From behind Byleth, Catherine called, annoyed, “who even is this kid?”

The boy glared at her. Lonato just scoffed.

“You’re naive. Christophe deserves to be remembered as the hero he was. Their false accusations will no longer slander his name.”

Next to Byleth, Dimitri stiffened, and his grip on his weapon went dangerously slack.

The mysterious boy’s face shifted to something a little more uncomfortable. “Look, Lonato. I loved Chris too, but--”

“How can you POSSIBLY say that when you won’t see the evil of those who condemned him to death?” Lonato roared. “I’ve had enough of this!”

Without warning, Lonato surged at Byleth, raising his spear above his head. Byleth lifted her sword to block it, but before she got the opportunity, the boy jumped between them again and blocked the blow with his own forearms. The pointed blade on Lonato’s lance sliced across his arm, making a deep cut in the skin. He roared in pain, but he stood his ground. Lonato’s face had once again transformed; this time to an expression of guilt and concern. His weapon was coated in emerald green blood, and flowing from the boy’s arm was a similar strange substance. Through silent tears, the boy gritted his teeth and spoke.

“Revenge is not the answer, Lonato. It will not bring him back. It will not ease your grief. All revenge does is cause more anger.”

Lonato glanced between the tip of his spear and the boy’s face, seemingly shifting between confusion, concern, and exasperation.

“Who are you?” He softly asked. The boy clutched his injured arm close to his chest, and through all the pain, managed to smile.

“Daighre.”

For a few seconds, Lonato froze. Finally, his grip on his spear loosened and it fell to the ground underneath his horse. 

“I knew it,” he whispered just before Thunderbrand sliced through his neck.

Dimitri crossed his arms and stared up at the saint statues in the cathedral. The five statues were arranged in a rough semi-circle. He approached the middle statue and gently brushed his fingers over the placard. The statue itself was of a young-looking man wearing leather armor over tight-fitting clothes, all covered by a long, draping, hooded cloak that flared out behind him. One hand rested over his chest, and the other reached in front of him, as if he were offering it to someone. The inscription described Saint Daighre, just the one Dimitri had taken an interest in recently.

A statue of Saint Daighre, one of the Five Saints. It is said that he was a soft-hearted diplomat who held compassion for everyone he met. In battle, he was dextrous and skilled with a bow.

“How long have these been here?” Dimitri asked the statue artisan. The man perked up a bit when Dimitri spoke.

“Ah, taken an interest in sculpture, have we?”

“Yes, a little,” Dimitri said. It wasn’t all a lie, but he was really only interested for a very specific reason.

“The statues have been here as long as the monastery has existed, coming up on 995 years now.”

“Interesting…” Dimitri mused. “Do you think this is what the Saints really looked like?”

“It’s impossible to say for sure, but considering when they were made, I would guess that they are quite accurate.”

“I see…” Dimitri stared at the Saint Daighre statue’s face, examining it closely. “Well, thank you for the information.”

“No problem. Come back any time.”

Dimitri nodded and left. Something was off about that statue. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he could tell that something was going on. Did this have anything to do with the people behind the Tragedy of Duscar? Was he being too paranoid? He needed to talk to Dedue about this. Or Ingrid. Or Ashe. Or Felix. Or anyone. He just needed to know that he wasn’t going insane in thinking that something was strange here. 

Ashe went on the mission.

He hoped he could convince Lonato to stand down, show him that seeking retribution would only make things worse. There wasn’t anything he could do to get the Knights of Seiros to stop attacking, but if he could make Lonato rethink the rebellion… maybe he could save him.

Instead, all he saw was Catherine’s sword cleanly severing Lonato’s head.

The world seemed to go silent in an instant. Ashe’s vision went white. He staggered backwards. He would have fallen, if Dimitri hadn’t caught him from behind. 

“Ashe? Ashe!”

Dimitri wrapped his strong arms around Ashe’s shoulders and they cried together until the sun came up.

It was two weeks after Lonato’s rebellion. Ashe hadn’t been in class since, not that anyone held it against him.

Annette tried to talk to him. He barely had a word of reply. Dimitri tried to talk to him. He was appreciative, but not very receptive. Byleth tried to talk to him and he was just silent. 

Until he appeared on her doorstep in the middle of the night.

He didn’t wait for her to invite him inside. He barged past the door, looking angry.

“I need to talk to Sothis,” he said, his voice understated and restrained. Byleth’s head was immediately filled with her voice, almost as if the sound of her name had summoned her.

“No, no! He wasn’t supposed to…” She groaned. “How could he do this to me?” 

“Who’s Sothis?” Byleth asked after a too-long pause. Ashe looked unimpressed.

“I already know about her, professor. Please, it’s urgent.”

“Tell him I don’t want to talk to him! Tell him I’m sorry, I tried to save Lonato every time, nothing ever worked!”

“What are you talking about?” Byleth groaned. She turned to Ashe, trying to make sense of the situation. How did he know about Sothis? How did she already know what he wanted to talk about? “Ashe, can you explain? I don’t think she’s going to.”

Sothis started protesting, but Byleth tried to drown her out. Ashe nodded and shifted from foot to foot.

“This is going to be hard to believe, but I hope you can trust me. Sothis came back in time from a future where war ravages Fodlan, and she came to me to help stop it. My real identity is Saint Daighre. I was supposed to fly under the radar and try to change the future, but I don’t care anymore. I think you should know anyway, professor. I won’t be able to hear her voice, so I hope you’ll tell me what she says.”

Byleth’s expression didn’t outwardly change, but inside, she was panicking. “You mean… everything you said is true?” she asked, directed at Sothis.

“Yes, you fool. Will you believe it if it comes from someone other than me? ”

“Ah…” Byleth blinked, trying to suppress her shock. Of course she hadn’t been willing to believe it before! It was strange enough that she had a little girl living in her head all of a sudden, so it only felt more unbelievable when she started rattling off about going back in time and a war that was coming. “Well, in that case, I guess we have to stop it,” Byleth said plainly. “What do you want to say?”

“You knew Lonato was going to die,” Ashe accused, staring into Byleth’s eyes. Byleth knew he was talking to Sothis, not her, but the anger in his face was still a little concerning to have directed at her. Sothis started speaking, and Byleth translated as she did.

“She says, ‘yes, I did. But if I could have done anything to stop it, I would have. You have to trust that what came to pass was fate. Turning back time over and over was never able to save him. I couldn’t tell you that ahead of time, or you’d just resent yourself for not being able to stop it.’”

Ashe wilted slightly. “When you said you’d met me on a previous loop, was that what you were talking about? Did I appear on the battlefield?”

Sothis confirmed, and Byleth nodded. “‘Actually, you showed up on most of the loops. Slight changes in Byleth’s previous choices altered the process, but never the outcome. Six times, you fought with Lonato and opposed the Central Church. Twice, you sided with the church. Twenty-three times, you tried to mediate. Five times, you weren’t there at all. Every single time, he ended up dead. I’m sorry, Daighre, but I don’t think anything could have been done.’”

“It’s Ashe,” Ashe spat. “And you’re wrong. I’m not going to tell you to go back again, but I’ll always believe that you’re wrong. There’s nothing that can be done now, but if I’d known what was coming, I could have stopped it. That’s why you need to tell me exactly how this war happens, so I won’t make the same mistake again.”

Sothis went quiet. Byleth wasn’t sure what to say. Ashe just looked anguished. Finally, Sothis spoke.

“Fine, you win.” She chuckled and mused to herself. “Maybe we can change things, after all.”

Dimitri found Ashe in the cathedral, leaning casually against one of the pillars that lined the room. He had a stoic expression, but when he saw Dimitri approaching, he offered a tight smile. 

“Hey, your highness,” he said miserably. Dimitri stood next to him and leaned into his shoulder. 

“I’m glad to see you again,” Dimitri admitted. “I know I already said it, but I’m so sorry about Lonato.”

“I appreciate that,” Ashe whispered. Dimitri scooted imperceptibly closer and wrapped his arm around Ashe’s shoulders. Ashe rested his head on Dimitri’s chest. “All I can do now is remember him,” he said softly. 

Dimitri’s hold tightened slightly. “I understand how you feel,” he admitted. 

“It’s awful that we live in a world where so many people can relate to this…” Ashe mused. He rested his gloved hand over one of Dimitri’s and gently gripped it.  “In the future, I hope no one has to lose anyone like we have.”

Saints, Ashe, how perfect are you? The thought crossed Dimitri’s mind before he could stop it. He felt his face burn and he was glad that Ashe couldn’t see it from this angle. 

“That’s admirable,” Dimitri finally said. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to admit what he’d been thinking. “Ashe, I want to take revenge on the people who killed my parents,” this was something Dimitri discussed so rarely that the words felt foreign and wrong on his tongue. Still, he continued. “I need to avenge them. I need to rid the world of people who would do something so heinous. If you want… sometime in the future… I can help you get payback for what the Church did to your father. I understand how he felt, too.”

What Dimitri didn’t say out loud was that he didn’t exactly deserve life either. He hoped that by devoting himself to the dead, he could make everything up to them.  

Ashe thought for a moment, while Dimitri just took in the sight of him. From their unconventional embrace, the most Dimitri could see of him was the side of his head. His silvery hair faded into a desaturated green toward the roots. Odd. How hadn’t Dimitri noticed that before? He didn’t have time to ponder it further before Ashe spoke. 

Neither of them had any way of knowing, but the words Ashe used had been said before. In a different timeline, in a different place, to a different man. But they were just as sincere as they had been the first time. 

“Revenge is not the answer, Dimitri. It will not bring your family back. It will not ease your grief. All revenge does is cause more anger. Trust me.”

The dreaded knock on Ashe’s bedroom door came in the unholy hours of the morning.

Seteth.

Of course. It was bound to happen eventually. Before Ashe could feign ignorance or ask him what he was doing there, Seteth spoke.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you, Daighre?”

Ashe expected to feel anxious, but all he got was relief. He’d spent centuries coming up with new identities, but it was different when it came to Cichol. He was family. It felt so good to know that he no longer had to pretend as if they were just professional acquaintances. Out of all of this, avoiding him and Cethleann had been the most painful part  Ashe’s lips melted into a relieved smile and he surged forward, holding Cichol tightly. Seteth returned the embrace just as fiercely.

“Cichol…” Ashe whispered, unable to say anything more. He felt Seteth’s hands tighten over his shoulders. He tried to speak, but ended up just letting out a half-sob that Ashe could tell was from joy.

Why had Ashe ever tried to hide this?

The months at the academy continued. Ashe no longer made any active effort to conceal his identity. After Seteth’s initial confrontation, the rest of them started coming in droves. By the end of the next month, Flayn, Linhardt, Hanneman, and Lysithea had all figured it out (in that order). The fact that Ashe was not Ashe was essentially an open secret to the staff of the Officers’ Academy. Most of the students remained in the dark. He let his hair grow out and didn’t bother dying the green roots. He kept making plans with Byleth and Sothis, discussing the details of the wars of past loops and trying to decipher the motivations of every party involved. Eventually, Ashe pulled Seteth into it, and they got him involved as well. Rhea remained uninformed. Sothis had insisted that she not be told, and even Seteth had agreed after a bit of convincing.

On the 16th day of the Wyvern Moon, Ashe received countless birthday wishes from his classmates. On the 17th, he got only 2, but he didn’t mind. It was about that time that the small team decided their plan was finally ready to be put into action. After hours and hours of discussion, they’d come to the conclusion that, like Sothis had initially told Ashe, a war was inevitable. They just had to show the Empire, Kingdom, and Alliance that they were not each other’s enemy. The true enemy were the Agarthans, who had manipulated everything behind the scenes. In past loops, they’d turned the nations against each other by sowing seeds of distrust and conflict. Ashe hoped that they would be able to unite the nations thanks to their foresight of the enemy’s plans. If the three nations knew that their true enemy wasn’t among them, they would be able to fight back, united. 

So Seteth called a meeting with the house leaders. They were going to explain everything. Everything. Sothis’ time travel, Ashe and Seteth’s identities, the future war and the true enemy. On the night before the meeting, Ashe found himself pacing back and forth across Seteth’s office, shaken with nerves. 

“There’s no way they’re going to believe us,” Ashe worried. “Who would? It’s a wild story and it makes absolutely no sense!”

“Calm yourself, Ashe,” Seteth comforted. “We need to keep our heads. The house leaders are all intelligent, reasonable people. If we answer all their questions with resolve and certainty, they will accept the truth in time.”

“What about Edelgard?” Ashe worried. “She hates the church! Or Claude! He was so unpredictable in the past loops, so how do we know what he’ll do this time? Even Dimitri—he’s still obsessed with revenge over the Tragedy of Duscar! What if he learns the Agarthans were behind it and goes on a rampage? Or—“

“Daighre,” Seteth said sternly. That made Ashe quiet down. “You’re worrying about hypotheticals again, and it’s just making your anxiety worse. Any snags in the plan we encounter, we will deal with then they arrive.” Seteth’s face faded from mild annoyance to concern. “Now, please go get some sleep. You’ll make yourself sick at this rate.”

Ashe let out a relieved sigh. “You’re right,” he admitted. “Good night, Seteth.”

“Good night, Ashe,” Seteth called as Ashe left. “Sleep well.”

Ashe got back to his room and fell asleep almost instantly. 

He hadn’t even been asleep for an hour before the knock on his door came. 

Dimitri sat up in the library long past midnight, fighting sleep. A history textbook about the Five Saints was open in front of him. He tried to keep track of his own thoughts, but it quickly grew too complex to manage, so instead, he took notes.

Dimitri stared at the sheet of parchment for a very long time, then tentatively wrote “associated with fire” under the “both” column. It could all be a massive coincidence, but at this point, that seemed unlikely. Was this why Ashe’s very existence seemed too good to be true? In the most literal sense of the phrase, he was an actual saint? On the surface, it seemed impossible, but all the little details seemed to point to it. It would explain a lot. 

Dimitri wanted an explanation.

The knock on his door startled Ashe awake. What time was it? Ashe opened the door and found Dimitri standing in front of him. He was panting, as if he’d sprinted all the way there.

“Ashe, thank the saints,” Dimitri huffed. “I need to ask you something urgent.”

“Um, okay. Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Dimitri’s lips twisted uncomfortably. “Can I come in?” He asked. Ashe nodded and stepped out of the doorway.

“Of course, take a seat,” Ashe swept his hand over his bed and Dimitri sat at the foot.

“I have to ask you something, and you can’t act like I’m crazy,” Dimitri prefaced. Ashe’s eyebrows shot up in concern.

“Dimitri, are you okay? Of course I don’t think you’re crazy! Now, stop being cryptic and tell me what’s wrong!”

“Are you Saint Daighre?” 

Ashe sat down next to Dimitri, his eyebrows furrowed.

“How did you know?” He asked darkly. Dimitri gasped.

“I was right! I knew it!” Dimitri grabbed Ashe by the shoulders and stared at him. “Why are you here?”

Ashe opened his mouth, but no words fell out. Finally, he said, “whoa, slow down, Dimitri. How could you tell? I mean, what gave it away?” Ashe frowned and looked almost self-conscious. “You don’t… mind, do you?”

Dimitri wordlessly pulled out a folded piece of paper from his breast pocket and passed it to Ashe. Ashe scanned it; a page of notes comparing him to historical accounts of Saint Daighre, questions about Ashe’s past, some inconsistencies about his story. In one corner, there was a small doodle of a smiling man with some question marks above his head. Despite the situation, Ashe smiled a little.

“Dimitri, is this supposed to be me?” He asked incredulously with a slight laugh. Dimitri’s face went red and snatched the paper back before Ashe could take another look.

“Um, that’s not the important part!” He insisted. “Just answer my question, please. Why are you here?”

“Don’t be embarrassed, I’m flattered” Ashe assured. “And… It’s a pretty long story. At the meeting tomorrow, I’ll explain everything, I promise. Can you trust me enough to wait until then?”

Dimitri paused. “I… I don’t know. I just don’t understand why you’d…” Dimitri didn’t finish his sentence, realizing halfway through that he didn’t know what he wanted to say. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, I’m just confused. ”

“There’s an explanation for everything,” Ashe promised. “I’m here to help.”

“I believe you,” Dimitri breathed. “It’s just… we’re friends, aren’t we?” There was a bitter tang to his words, but Ashe didn’t notice it. 

“Of course,”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was going to. You just figured me out before I had the chance.” 

Dimitri leaned backwards and rested his head against the back wall. He looked slightly flushed, but he’d calmed down, for the most part.

“Okay,” he muttered faintly. Ashe rested a hand on his forearm in an attempt to ground him, and it seemed to work. Dimitri’s tense face relaxed a little and he managed to close his eyes when he felt Ashe’s touch. “Who is going to be at that meeting tomorrow? And what is it for?”

Ashe thought for a moment. “Professor Byleth will be there,” he started. “So will Seteth, Edelgard, and Claude. And, of course, you and I will be there too. It’s a small group. It’ll be very relaxed and casual. We just have a lot of things to explain, and we want to make sure you’re all fully informed.”

“Okay,” Dimitri repeated. “Thank you,” 

“You don’t have to thank me for anything,” Ashe said. “If you’d like, you can stay with me tonight.”

Dimitri smiled. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

They sat together in comfortable silence for a few more moments. Ashe rested his head on Dimitri’s shoulder, and Dimitri had to focus very hard not to fall into a puddle of nerves. Eventually, he spoke.

“So, would you rather I call you Daighre? What do you prefer?”

“I like Ashe,” Ashe said. “I think it suits me, don’t you?”

“It does,” Dimitri agreed. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you choose it?”

“It’s a little embarrassing, but it’s after a character in a storybook I read a long time ago,” Ashe bashfully admitted. “Sir Ashe was a knight who was always kind and helpful to everyone. That’s the type of person that I aspire to be, so I thought the name might be a good reminder. Eventually, it started to feel like it belonged to me, too.”

Dimitri gaped, surprised that even someone as universally good-natured as Ashe still had aspirations of being a better person. The more Dimitri learned about Ashe, the more confident he felt that Ashe was too good of a man to be associating with Dimitri. Dimitri was too selfish not to feel his pull, so he always found himself in Ashe’s presence anyway. Maybe that was part of the monster inside him, too.

“Ashe, you’re already like that,” Dimitri said, amused. Ashe scoffed.

“That’s flattering. I try my best,” he said. “But I’ve still got a long way to go.”

Dimitri disagreed with that, but he didn’t say anything. 

Instead, he just laid down in Ashe’s bed and let his eyes fall closed.

Edelgard felt uneasy. Why had she been called to a meeting so early in the morning? What did the church want with her? Edelgard was the first to arrive at Seteth’s office. He was sitting behind his desk, looking as imposing as ever. Unusually,  there were five simple wooden chairs arranged in an arc on the other side of the desk. Four other people… Edelgard pondered. Who could they be?  

“Good morning, Lady Edelgard,” Seteth greeted. “Please take a seat, and feel free to pour yourself some tea if you’d like.” For the first time, Edelgard noticed a tea set laid out on the desk. She sat down, her hands folded awkwardly in her lap. Something was clearly wrong here. The church couldn’t have discovered her plans, could they? Edelgard tried very hard not to sound desperate when she spoke.

“Good morning. Now that I’m here, do you think you could explain the purpose of this meeting? I must admit, I’m intrigued.”

“I’ll explain everything when the others arrive, otherwise I’ll just end up repeating myself.” Seteth said. Just then, a pristine, white-robed woman strolled past and poked her head into the office. Edelgard’s gaze burned with hatred.

“Good morning, Seteth.” Lady Rhea’s voice was soft, just as always. Edelgard knew it was all a farce. “And good morning to you too, Edelgard. What are the two of you doing up so early?”

“Lady Edelgard was looking for some supplemental reading for one of last week’s lessons,” Seteth lied without hesitation. “I happen to have some old writings in my collection that fit the topic, so I thought she might be interested.”

Lady Rhea nodded and left. It was then that Edelgard decided she liked Seteth.

“Why would you…?” She trailed off, turning back toward him. He had a dark expression, and he looked almost conflicted.

“This will all make sense in time,” he said cryptically. “Please don’t mention this meeting to Lady Rhea.”

Edelgard huffed. Frankly, she was tired of feeling in the dark. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait much longer. About two minutes later, Dimitri arrived with one of the students from his house, and the two of them chatted with Seteth like they were all old friends. Five minutes after them, Professor Byleth arrived, giving everyone a polite nod but offering no words. 

And they still waited.

“Excuse me, who exactly are we waiting on?” Edelgard asked, annoyed. “I don’t have all day!” She did have all day, as there were no classes, but she didn’t want them to know that.

Dimitri cleared his throat. “I believe Claude is the last person,” he offered.

Edelgard sighed. “Well, that explains it.” She'd learned long ago to stop expecting punctuality from Claude.

Another fifteen minutes passed before Claude arrived. It was nearly half an hour after the time they’d agreed to meet, and Edelgard was getting more and more anxious by the second. When the final house leader entered, she was almost ready to strangle him for being so late. He arrived with an easy smile and a casual wave, as if he hadn’t been the source of all of Edelgard’s panic for the last half hour.

“Good morning, compatriots,” Claude said with a laugh as he whirled into the room.

“You’re late,” Dimitri and Edelgard muttered in unison.

“That’s neither here nor there, my dears,” Claude winked at Edelgard when they made eye contact, and he plopped down into the final empty seat, closing the door behind him. “Anyway, what’s up?”

Seteth shared an uncomfortable glance with Byleth. Finally, he spoke.

“To preface, I understand that this will be hard to believe, but all I ask is that the three of you hear us out. Ask any questions you like, as we want to make sure you’re confident that we’re telling you the whole truth. Byleth?”

Seteth motioned toward her and she nodded resolutely.

“The goddess is sharing my body,” she said plainly. She offered no further clarification. Edelgard wasn’t sure what to say to that--had the professor gone crazy? Was this some kind of prank? She glanced around to gauge the others’ reactions. Dimitri had furrowed brows, and he was clearly deep in thought, as if he were connecting the dots in his head. The other student next to him (Ashe, Edelgard thought) looked unsurprised, almost bored. On his other side, Claude had already broken into a grin.

“Um, what?” He chuckled nervously. “Yeah, nice one, teach. What did you expect us to do, freak out? That’s not funny.”

“It’s true,” Byleth said. “I was born in this monastery twenty-one ago. Rhea was trying to revive Sothis. In an attempt to do this, she gave me the goddess’ crest stone--her heart--and through it, she shares my body.”

“It’s true,” Seteth said. Edelgard stood up and braced her hands on the desk in front of her.

“I don’t know what this is supposed to be, but if you just called us here to waste our time, I’ll be leaving,” she spat. “We have more important things to worry about than some juvenile prank.”

“Edelgard, please,” Byleth said, a sad frown falling across her lips. “There’s no need to have an outburst.” Embarrassed, Edelgard fell back into her seat and crossed her arms across her chest. “Just let me tell the rest of the story, then I’ll explain anything I can. Okay?”

Edelgard silently nodded.

“In the future, there will be a war that ravages Fodlan. Tens of thousands will die, including some of your classmates. After the war, I use what remains of Sothis’ power to send her back in time. This was an attempt to save those who died in a pointless battle with the wrong enemy--she doesn’t have her own body, so it’s easier to send her back than myself. She arrived here from the future just before the school year started. Armed with knowledge of the future, she set out to stop the war from happening. She came to Ashe, here,” Byleth motioned toward him. “And recruited him to help. Seteth and I got involved with the plan as well. And we want the three of you in on it, too. We’re asking for your help to prevent these deaths, to make sure the real culprits behind all the anguish in Fodlan are dealt with.”

Dimitri’s eyes widened. He looked like he was going to speak up, but he stayed quiet. Ashe rested a hand on Dimitri’s upper arm and whispered something Edelgard couldn’t hear. Edelgard had bigger problems at the moment. They knew about the war. That meant Byleth was telling the truth. As unbelievable as it seemed, there was no other way she could have known. 

Claude glanced around the room. “Wait, you’re serious?” He asked after a pause. He leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the corner of Seteth’s desk. “Prove it.”

Byleth and Seteth shared another concerned look. Edelgard thought she saw Byleth’s eyes slip toward her for a moment, and Edelgard’s chest clenched with panic. If Byleth was telling the truth, that meant she knew everything Edelgard was planning. Edelgard couldn’t just let Byleth spill all her war plans--how was she supposed to stop this? What could Edelgard do? Was there any--

“Edelgard starts the war,” Byleth said coolly. 

Edelgard’s entire world collapsed. She stared at Byleth with a slack jaw and fear in her eyes, but Byleth didn’t care. “Dimitri rampages. Claude ends up leaving Fodlan entirely. When you're fighting each other, there's no universe where all three of you survive.” 

It seemed like every eye in the room turned toward Edelgard. Suddenly, she was a misbehaving child again, trying to explain her actions but stammering over every syllable. Suddenly, Edelgard, who was always poised and articulate, could barely get a word out.

“I--I--There are perfectly valid reasons! The nobility system upheld by the church is oppressive, and--”

“So it’s true then,” Claude questioned with a cocked eyebrow. Edelgard realized too late that by trying to justify herself, she had confirmed her intention to declare war on the church.

“Fine, it’s true!” She held up her hands in surrender. “But don’t act like I’m the villain here! I’ve thought this out. The deaths are regrettable, but it’s necessary to bring about a better future.”

One of Dimitri's fists slammed down on Seteth's desk, splintering the wood. “Edelgard, did you really just say that?” He asked incredulously. “Did you ever think that--”

“Settle down,” Seteth said, his imposing voice just loud enough to be heard. Everyone reluctantly stopped arguing. “The reason we brought this to your attention is not to breed distrust. Quite the opposite. We want to unite you. Think of it like this; no matter what happened in the other timelines, what matters is your actions this time. Those timelines do not exist anymore. Don’t hold grudges against people for actions they have not yet committed. Just because you believe you know what’s coming does not mean it’s too late to change things. Our goal here is to get rid of the real enemy, and that is best achieved by working together.”

“Who are these true enemies you keep talking about?” Claude asked. 

“Edelgard is already familiar with them,” Byleth answered. “Those who Slither in the Dark. They’re also called Agarthans.” Edelgard tensed. “I’m sorry for what you went through as a child, Edelgard.”

“I…” Edelgard bit her lip. It was unnerving for Byleth to know so much about her. Even if there was a valid explanation, Edelgard couldn’t help but feel like she’d been spied on.

“They’ve been working against Fodlan for over a millennium. They orchestrated many tragic historical events, and even recent ones. I’m not going to claim they’re the only thing that’s wrong with this continent. I don’t believe that, and neither do any of you. But I can say with confidence that uniting against them will only make our situation better.”

“Wait, a millennium?” Dimitri interrupted. “What did they do back then?”

Seteth started to speak, but he couldn’t get the words out. His face was twisted with something that looked like anguish, but Edelgard couldn't tell. Finally, he choked out, “A-Ashe, can you explain?”

“Of course,” Ashe said, slightly nervously, speaking up for the first time. Edelgard had briefly wondered why he was there, but frankly, she’d had better things to worry about as soon as Byleth brought up the war. Now, perhaps the question in the back of her mind would be answered. “A little over 1,100 years ago, the Agarthans massacred the race of people living in the Red Canyon, the Nabateans. There were only six survivors. About 100 years after that, they indirectly caused the War of Heroes.”

“Wow,” Claude said plainly. “Not that I don’t believe you or whatever, but how do you know? I mean, that was basically forever ago.”

Ashe looked slightly uncomfortable, but he answered the question. “I was there. Seteth, too.” 

Claude looked like he wanted to dispute it, but instead he said, “what the hell, at this point, I’d believe anything. You guys look good for your age.”

Ashe awkwardly laughed. “Um… Thanks.” 

Edelgard rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, is that all you have to say? What do you mean you were there?”

Ashe almost withered under her glare. “Nabateans have a very long lifespan. Seiros gathered the other survivors, and we eventually fought in the War of Heroes. You know the Five Saints? That’s us. That’s why Sothis came to me when she first arrived in this time… she already knew who I was.”

Claude cocked his head to one side and a devious grin grew on his face. “No way, which ones? Wait, don’t tell me, I want to guess. Edelgard, what do you think?”

Edelgard scoffed. “Claude, are you incapable of ever taking anything seriously?”

He put his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, sorry I don’t have a stick up my ass,” he sighed. “Dimitri, what do you think?”

Dimitri frowned. “I feel as though it would be unfair for me to guess, since I already know.”

“Dammit, it’s up to me, I guess. Okay… hmm…” Claude thought for a moment, making a rather dramatic show of it. “I think Seteth is Macuil and Ashe is Cichol… and I just realized I don’t actually know anything about any of the saints and I am not the right person to be doing this. Just tell us.”

Seteth gave him a look that was half-concerned and half-amused. “Cichol,” he introduced. “Though, I’d prefer if none of you used that name in public, for obvious reasons.”

Ashe nodded. “Daighre, and same.”

Claude leaned back again in what Edelgard was quickly learning to recognize as his “asserting dominance” pose. 

“Okay, prove it. I’m in if you can prove that you’re both actually saints. You guys have made a lot of good points, so I’m inclined to believe you, but I need a little more.”

Ashe glanced nervously at Seteth, then stood up and held out one of his hands. An acidic green flame lit in his palm and licked up his arm, spreading quickly and burning hot but not seeming to cause him any pain. When Dimitri saw it, his eyes widened and he stiffened. Ashe shook his arm and it went out in an instant, leaving his skin unmarked and his clothes un-singed.

“I can’t be burned,” Ashe said. “I’m the only person in Fodlan’s history to have this trait. Even bearers of the Crest of Daighre don’t have that ability. Check with Linhardt or Hanneman if you don’t believe me.”

Seteth took a more practical approach. He tucked his thick hair behind his ears to show off their sharply pointed ends. He grabbed a storage box from the bottom shelf of his bookshelf and pulled out a small canvas, about the size of a sheet of parchment. The painting was weathered and faded, but it had clearly been lovingly maintained. The painting showed two people dressed in casual but well-made clothes; unmistakably Seteth and Flayn. Along the bottom, stark black ink spelled out “Cethleann and Cichol, imperial year 63” in elegant cursive. Seteth handed the painting to Claude, who closely examined it.

“Provided he’s willing to keep quiet about it, you can have Ignatz look at that. I’m sure he can verify the age.” 

Claude looked satisfied with this, and Seteth took his seat again.

“Can we trust the three of you to fight back against the Agarthans?” He asked. Claude was the first to agree.

“Fuck it, why not? I don’t even know if I believe all this crazy stuff yet, but if it is true, these guys definitely seem like bad news.”

Seteth’s jaw tightened a bit, but he nodded. “Thank you.”

Dimitri was the next to speak up.

“Before I agree to this, I have just one question.”

“Anything,” Byleth said. Dimitri hesitated for a moment, then asked,

“These Agarthans, did they have anything to do with the Tragedy of Duscar?”

Byleth gave a slow nod. “Yes. They instigated it.”

Something hardened in Dimitri’s face. When he spoke, his voice was low and restrained.

“Very well. I’ll do anything, in that case. The dead will have their justice.”

Byleth looked a little concerned, but moved on. “Thank you, Dimitri. Edelgard?”

Edelgard’s breath froze in her throat. She hated Those Who Slither in the Dark. But she hated the Church of Seiros too. Would she really have to work with one of them to eradicate the other? That had already been her situation before, but now that she was faced with a choice, she wasn’t sure which she preferred.

“Do the three of you really believe that we can do this?” She asked after a pause. “Do you think we can stop Those Who Slither in the Dark?” She glanced up and looked at Byleth, Seteth, and Ashe individually.

“I do.”

“With the three nations working together, I do.”

“If we work hard, yes.”

Edelgard inhaled and let out a deep breath. 

“Very well. I’ll join you to get rid of them. But don’t think this changes how I feel toward the Church. Once Those Who Slither in the Dark are gone, I will turn my blade back toward the Church.”

Seteth nodded, looking slightly amused. “That’s fine,” he said. “This project isn’t associated with the Church. We are aligned with all of Fodlan. A temporary truce is all that’s necessary.”

“As long as you know that, then I agree to help.”

The students of the Officers’ Academy sat around the largest table in the dining hall. Everyone was there. Dorothea had even coaxed out Bernadetta. The Battle of the Eagle and Lion had just finished, and the friendly rivalries between the students had dissolved instantly upon returning to the monastery. They passed around food and drinks, and the energy ramped up with every minute.  The climax arrived when Ferdinand stood up and cleared his throat until everyone was paying attention. 

“Rejoice, for inspiration has struck!” He said with a laugh and a dramatic hand gesture. “We should have a big class reunion at the Millennium Festival in five years!”

“Oooh, good idea!” Hilda called from down the table. “I’ll totally be there!”

“Me too,” Annette said. “Everyone, say ‘aye’ if you’ll be there no matter what!”

A chorus of “ayes” shook the room, and the date was set. 

“It seems as though the Flame Emperor has turned against us.”

“Preposterous. We made her what she is; she has no one else to turn to.”

“You say that, yet she ignores our summons.”

“Give her time.”

“Perhaps it was foolish for her to go to the monastery. The followers of that false goddess could have swayed her to their teachings.”

“She despises the church. She has no good reason to betray us.”

“Hmm… I think it’s worth looking into.”

“And so, the Church of Seiros, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, the Adrestian Empire, and the Leicester Alliance all declare war on the people of Agartha. Fodlan will not stand for this oppression any longer!”

“I told you.”

“Alert the agents in the Empire. It’s time we show Fodlan that we will prevail.”

There was an army marching toward the monastery. They were due to arrive in two weeks. Naturally, the students were tense, but they had all committed to staying to fight. Most of them still didn’t know the full story, but they had been told that the Agarthans were the enemies of Fodlan. 

Rhea was so enraged that she didn’t even ask for an explanation. She paced the halls of the monastery’s third floor, muttering to herself about getting her mother back. 

The Knights of Serios almost never left the training ground. 

Regular classes ground to a halt. Instead, the students attended strategy meetings.

Byleth emerged from her bedroom one morning with light green hair and a shell-shocked expression. No one had the heart to ask her exactly what had happened, except for Seteth, who was later spotted hugging her fiercely and weeping.

Dimitri went quiet. It was rare for him to speak to anyone other than Dedue, and when he did, he seemed distant.

The occupants of Garreg Mach Monastery hunkered down and prepared for the assault that they knew was coming.

The soldiers fought, but the monastery crumbled. 

Knights, soldiers, and students battled with ferocity, but the outcome looked like it would be a stalemate. There were many accounts of a large beast appearing once the battle had slowed. This beast attacked the Agarthans without mercy, but the rampage was so indiscriminate that many soldiers died on both sides. Because of the beast’s attacks, the ground around the monastery grew unstable, and both sides were forced to retreat.

Though Garreg Mach Monastery was located in a geographically advantageous area, it remained largely untouched in the following years of war because of the unstable ground.

 -Excerpt from a history textbook written in Imperial Year 1394

Byleth woke to a familiar voice coaxing her awake. 

“You. How long do you intend to sleep?”

Impossible. 

Right before the battle with the Agarthans, Sothis had said “I’m sorry, but you need all the power you can get.”

She hadn’t explained everything, and Byleth’s hair had turned green. Like Seteth’s. Like Rhea’s. Like Ashe’s. Like Flayn’s.

Most importantly, like Sothis’. And since then, Byleth hadn’t heard Sothis’ voice once. 

So it was impossible that it was her this time. 

“Get on your feet! Right now! I’ll coddle you no longer. You’re just like a child, always needing me to hold your hand…”

Byleth jolted up, her eyes wide. She didn’t recognize the landscape around her, all she saw was rubble and trees and a hazy sky. The last thing she remembered was the ground crumbling beneath her at the battle… how long had it been?

When someone saw Byleth was awake, he rushed over. He looked concerned, which didn’t help Byleth feel any better about the situation. 

“Hey! A-are you awake?”

Byleth pressed a palm to her forehead and tried to stand up. She was a little unsteady on her feet, but it wasn’t terrible. 

“W-where am I?” Byleth muttered. The man answered instantly. 

“We’re in a village at the base of the monastery. I was surprised to see you floating down the river. Garreg Mach is upstream of here, but that place has been abandoned for years.

Byleth’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“The Church of Seiros isn’t there anymore. Pretty sad if you ask me… I mean, tomorrow was supposed to be the Millennium Festival.”

Byleth staggered back a step. She’d been asleep for five years? The Millennium Festival… it was a long shot, but the students were supposed to be having a reunion then. Byleth nodded and gripped her sword tightly. 

“Thank you. I’ll be heading up there.”

She started to walk away, and the villager called after her,

“Hey, are you crazy? That place is practically falling apart! It’s not safe!”

Byleth simply called over her shoulder, “my students need me,” and left. 

She took the hike to the monastery and found Dimitri slumped against a wall in the goddess tower. 

It really had been five years. 

He was noticeably older. His hair had grown out, and it was tangled and scraggly. He wore a draping fur cloak over his shoulders and an eyepatch over one eye. When he glanced up at Byleth, he had an expression of shock that was quickly replaced with stoicism.

“Dimitri, I’m so glad to see you,” Byleth whispered. He frowned and looked away. 

“I’m sorry, Professor. I’ll kill those bastards, I swear it.”

Byleth looked confused. 

“Dimitri, where are the others?” She asked sternly. The heat in her voice was enough to startle him into looking at her again. 

“They’re here,” he promised, resting an armored hand over his heart. “Those who died are living within me. Those who were killed by Agartha will have their peace, whatever it takes. Then… then I will fight with Edelgard against the Church of Seiros.”

Byleth’s eyes widened. Surely he wasn’t saying all the other students had died! Why did he now have a grudge against the church? How could Byleth have spent five years sleeping when she could have been helping? Where was her father?

Byleth didn’t have time to voice her countless questions, because there were footsteps on the stairs behind her. She turned and was instantly filled with relief. In front of her stood a mix of faces she’d feared she would never see again. 

Sylvain,

Leonie,

Dorothea,

Raphael,

Petra,

Mercedes,

And… Seteth.

They all looked shocked to see her, but not as shocked as she was to see them. 

“Professor, you made it!” Mercedes said with a smile. “I’m so glad to see you!”

Byleth blinked a few times, unsure what she was seeing. 

“M-me too. It’s good to see all of you.”

“Well, we said we’d be here, didn’t we?” Raphael asked with a boisterous laugh. “No silly war is gonna stop that!”

“Yes,” Petra nodded. “My commitment is having great importance to me. I will be keeping my word.”

Behind Byleth, Dimitri stood up and leaned against the wall. Of course, he’d seen his classmates scattered around the land throughout the war, but it was a different feeling entirely to know that they would all be gathered in one place. 

It was equal parts hopeful and uncertain. Equal parts heartwarming and horrifying. 

Dimitri didn’t say anything, he just stood by Byleth as she talked with the others. When the group left the goddess tower to go back to the monastery’s main entrance, he silently followed. Of course, that was before he saw that the entrance hall was packed with even more familiar faces.

In one corner, Dedue and Ingrid chatted— Dedue and Ingrid getting along? Even Dimitri cracked a small smile at that. 

Dorothea practically sprinted to join Edelgard at one of the tables, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and giggled as Edelgard went red. At another table, Claude, Hilda, and Ignatz cheerfully waved to the group as they entered. Everyone Dimitri saw was familiar, but different. It was a little overwhelming—he hadn’t really expected to live this long, let alone see his classmates grow up alongside him. 

But then he spotted Ashe. He was in the back of the room chatting with Caspar. He looked exactly the same, and it was so familiar and comforting that Dimitri couldn’t stop starting. 

Ashe had gone missing after the battle five years ago. Dimitri assumed he’d died just like everyone else he’d ever loved. Ashe was added to the ever-growing list of names that Dimitri needed to avenge.

But there he was. Just like Byleth, he’d come back to life and shattered Dimitri’s perception of the world.

The rest of the group dispersed into the crowd, but Dimitri made a straight beeline for Ashe. Caspar saw him coming and left, while Ashe’s face lit up.

“Dimitri! I’m so glad you’re safe!” Ashe scanned him up and down. “You look good.”

Dimitri grasped him by the shoulders and couldn’t decide if he wanted to hug him or shake some sense into him. 

“I thought you were dead! ” He scolded. “Where have you been?”

Ashe’s lips fell into a pout. “I’m sorry. I was injured pretty badly in the battle five years ago. I fell into one of the sinkholes that opened when Sei--Rhea transformed and attacked, and I was asleep for a while. I tried to find you when I woke up two years ago, but you were hard to pin down.”

Dimitri blinked, too stunned to stay angry. “You were asleep for three years? What are you talking about?”

Ashe shrugged. “Nabateans do it as a defense mechanism to recover from severe injuries. I didn’t have much choice.”

“Ah, that must be what happened to the professor,” Dimitri mused. Ashe looked surprised.

“She’s alive? That’s great news! No one had seen her in so long, I was starting to get worried.”

“Yes, she’s here. Apparently, she just woke up today.”

“That’s lucky timing,” Ashe noted. “Honestly, I’m just glad to see that so many people made it here safely. I haven’t seen anyone from school since I woke up, so it’s very comforting to see we’ve all survived the last five years.”

I love you, Dimitri thought.

“Yes,” he said. 

Dimitri left before he could make a fool of himself. He hadn’t expected to see Ashe ever again, so the sudden resurgence of his feelings from five years ago had hit him hard. It was rather unnerving to think that Ashe had looked noticeably older than Dimitri when they first met, but now those roles had reversed. It was just another reminder that Ashe was frozen in time. 

Dimitri wouldn’t have cared if it didn’t help him justify staying away. Dimitri didn’t deserve someone like Ashe, so he’d take any excuse he could not to pursue his stupid crush. Not only was it an inconvenience to Ashe, but it would impede on Dimitri’s revenge. 

So Dimitri walked away and didn't look back, even thought he so desperately wanted to. 

The army’s generals were crammed into the cardinal room on the second floor of the main monastery building. There were as many chairs as possible squeezed in around the large table, but it still wasn’t enough for the entire population of the Officers’ Academy, plus whomever remained of the Knights of Seiros. There were more people standing around the edges of the room than in the seats, but it was important for everyone to be there. 

Now that everyone was back in one place, they needed to set their war plans. 

Ashe hadn’t been living in the war as long as his classmates had, but even in the two years he’d been awake, he had become excruciatingly familiar with the state of Fodlan. The Agarthans had subjugated the Adrestian Empire and unseated many of the noble houses that sided with the Kingdom and Alliance. Edelgard’s father had died, but of course, they didn’t let her ascend the throne, so the empire had spent the last few years without an official ruler. Seteth somberly said that most rumors pointed to Rhea and Jeralt being imprisoned in the Imperial Capitol. Edelgard, Hubert, and Ferdinand were refugees who were actively being hunted within the empire’s borders, so the three of them recounted how they’d been hiding in the Alliance. Byleth sat quietly and took everything in, trying to put together a timeline of the years she’d missed. Dimitri sat next to Claude and alternated between gazing at Ashe and actually paying attention. Claude noticed almost immediately, and kept giving Dimitri knowing glances. 

The armies had consolidated, so now Fodlan had more manpower than they ever had in the war. The Agarthans were headquartered in Enbarr, because their underground cities had been the first places to fall at the start of the war. 

The plan was to begin with a stealth mission into the empire’s capital. Since travel in and out of Enbarr was strictly monitored, anyone who had fought in the battle at the monastery had done their best to avoid it. Since they didn’t know anything about the conditions inside the city, they needed to gather information before attempting an all-out attack. 

After the plan was solidified, there was another overpopulated meeting to decide who among the army’s generals had the least conspicuous appearances. The first thing they did was eliminate a large number of them who would be too recognizable. The remaining group was small, but still too big to enter the capital without drawing suspicion. They tried to narrow it down yet again.

“Sorry, but I totally stand out too much!” Hilda was the first to speak up. “Not that I don’t want to help out, but my face is just too darn memorable! Drat!” She gave an exaggerated frown, followed by several eyerolls from those seated around her.

Hubert raised his hand before speaking. “I nominate Linhardt,” he said. Linhardt, who’d been half-asleep against the wall behind him, startled slightly at the sound of his own name.  Hubert continued as if he hadn’t seen anything.

“His father replaced Ferdinand’s as the Prime Minister--it’s not unexpected for him to travel into the city.”

Linhardt groaned. “You would think, but they don’t trust me at all. Whenever I go anywhere in the Empire, it’s like the guards physically don’t know how to leave me alone.” He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "It's really been getting on my nerves, actually."

“Never mind, we definitely aren’t sending Linhardt,” Edelgard said seriously.

The discussion continued for a very long time, and the group finally decided who would be infiltrating the capital: Ignatz, Marianne, Annette, Ingrid, and Leonie. They were set to leave in just two weeks, and forge false identities in the meantime.

When they returned, the war council would meet again and theorize how to flush the Agarthans out of the Empire.

Ashe went into town at least twice a week, disappearing for hours at a time. As much as Dimitri didn’t want to, he was curious. It was a week after the stealth team had left the monastery that Dimitri asked to accompany him. Obviously, this was purely born out of boredom, and not any ulterior motives.

When Dimitri asked if he could go along with Ashe, he received a warm smile and an armful of assorted ingredients dumped into his arms. The pair ended up inside a small apartment in the town with no less than seven children living in it. As soon as Ashe opened the door, the children rushed to greet him. None of them looked related, and their ages appeared to range from their late teens to barely out of toddler age, though they all looked cheerful and happy. Was this where Ashe kept disappearing to? Dimitri should have stayed at the monastery…

“Hey, everyone,” Ashe greeted as they entered. “How’re you guys doing?”

“We’re fine,” said one of the older ones, a girl who appeared about fifteen. “How’s the war planning going?”

Ashe chuckled. “Classified, Ellen. Like every other time you’ve asked. Anyway, this is Dimitri. He decided to tag along this time.”

Dimitri, not expecting to be acknowledged, gave an awkward wave. Some of the kids gave him curious glances, while others barely seemed to notice him at all. He didn’t say anything. Ashe chatted with the kids for a few minutes, then made a beeline for the back of the apartment.

“Okay, I brought the stuff for gratin,” he announced, “It’ll be ready in two hours.” He took a few steps toward the kitchen, then turned back. “Dimitri, do you want to help me?”

“Uh,” Dimitri froze. He had no idea what he was doing in the kitchen. Surely, he’d just mess everything up, right? For Sothis’ sake, he could hardly taste ! But Ashe had asked for his help… Well, if he was told exactly what to do, it couldn’t be too hard, could it? “Sure.”

The kitchen was a small room at the back of the apartment. Once the door was closed, Dimitri set his load on the counter and leaned against it, gazing at Ashe with a mixture of reverence and amusement.

“You never change, Ashe,” he said, almost smiling for the first time in a while. “How long has it been since you’ve been taking in kids, 1200 years?”

Ashe shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he joked. “I’m only 25.”

“Okay, sure.” Dimitri scoffed. After a few seconds of silence, Ashe’s face fell into a more serious expression, and he offered more explanation.

“They all lost their parents in the battle five years ago,” he explained. “I’m just doing what I can.”

“What about your siblings at Gaspard?” Dimitri wondered. “How are they?”

Ashe perked up a bit. “Oh, they’re doing well. My sister’s nineteen now, and she’s taken over most of the governance in the territory. My brother is seventeen, and he’s taken an interest in sculpture lately.”

“Interesting…”

“Anyway, I’ve been back to visit a few times in the last few years. They were pretty shocked to see me alive, but it was great to catch up."

“I can imagine,” Dimitri nodded. “I was too.”

Ashe laughed. “Yeah. That first conversation was a tricky one. Well, I’m glad they’re doing well for themselves, and that I’m able to help others while I’m here.”

“You really haven’t changed,” Dimitri mused under his breath. His tone was light and casual, but his thoughts were resentful. Not toward Ashe, but toward himself. Seeing how Ashe had remained so calm, so good, even after the war, just proved that Dimitri was the lesser man compared to him. 

Dimitri desperately wished he could be as level-headed as Ashe. Ingrid always said nothing would ever change if Dimitri didn’t talk about his thoughts. As dramatic as it felt, Dimitri started to speak. 

“Ashe, can I talk to you about something?” 

“Of course,” Ashe agreed. Dimitri kept going and didn’t stop. 

“I’ve spent the last five years seeking revenge for those who died in the Tragedy of Duscar. I want to give myself to this purpose, to atone for surviving when they didn’t get the chance. I believe that the Agarthans deserve death for what they’ve done. I believe these things with my whole being, but I wish I didn’t. I wish I could be as carefree as you. I admire you, because you’re a better person than I could ever be.” Dimitri felt like he could have died of embarrassment. How pathetic could he possibly be? Now he was bothering Ashe with his horrible thoughts, crawling to him to validate his sick revenge fantasies? He should have left Ashe alone from the beginning. 

But when Dimitri met Ashe’s eyes, he was surprised to see not disgust in his face, but concern. Ashe was silent for a few moments, then he spoke. 

“Dimitri, I want to get rid of the Agarthans, too. But you’re thinking about it backwards. You don’t need to devote yourself to the dead or justify your own survival. Their deaths were not in service to you. You don’t owe them your life. I’m not as carefree as you think… I hate the Agarthans who murdered my people, who left all those kids homeless. But I can’t let it consume me. I believe that I owe it to the people who are still alive to protect the world, to make it a place where tragedies won’t happen. If anything, I think you should feel the same. Live on in spite of everything Agartha has done to you—not for the purpose of purging them. After all, if you do that, you’ll have nothing to live for when we succeed.”

Dimitri’s single eye widened. He needed a moment to process the whole of Ashe’s monologue, but the first thing he zeroed in on was Ashe’s assertion that he wanted the Agarthans dead. 

“I thought you didn’t believe in revenge?” He asked. Ashe shook his head. 

“I don’t. But I do believe in justice.”

Dimitri scoffed. “They are one and the same," he asserted. Ashe shook his head once more. 

“No they’re not.”

“What’s the difference?”

Ashe cocked his head. “I’ll use an example. Why do you dislike the Church of Seiros?”

“Rhea,” Dimitri said simply. “At the battle, she killed indiscriminately, just to get to the Agarthans. Many of her own knights were killed because she couldn’t think clearly.”

“That’s revenge,” Ashe said. “You may not see it, but that‘s what you could become, Dimitri. Revenge will go to any length. It’s ‘at all costs.’ Revenge is blind. Justice is realistic.“

Dimitri hummed, not fully willing to accept Ashe’s words yet. “Well… I’ll think on that,” he finally said. Ashe nodded. 

“That’s all I ask, just consider it. Thanks for trusting me enough to talk about it. If you want to chat about anything, my door’s always open.”

“That’s kind of you to offer. Thank you,” Dimitri said quietly. 

There was no further conversation, but the two of them stayed in comfortable silence while Ashe kept making dinner. Dimitri appeared outwardly calm, but he was inwardly spiralling. There was no way it was really that simple. Realistically, Ashe was probably only the fifth or sixth wisest person Dimitri had ever met, and he was the only one who had given such an answer to Dimitri’s plight.

He was also the only one Dimitri had ever asked, but that had nothing to do with it.

Could he really just accept that he’d wasted the last five years of his life making the world worse rather than better? How was he supposed to accept that the goal he’d devoted his life to meant nothing? Ashe hadn’t exactly said that, but the implication seemed there. Dimitri had been seeking vengeance or nearly a decade--if he didn’t have that to chase, his life was practically meaningless.

If what he said is true, what do I have to live for?

Ashe pulled the gratin out of the oven, completely foregoing the oven mitts on the counter and just grabbing the dish with his bare hands. Dimitri was alarmed for a moment, even though he knew Ashe would be fine. The image didn’t fit in Dimitri’s mind, so his pulse quickened even when he knew nothing was wrong. 

“It smells wonderful,” Dimitri said, trying to shake off his earlier worries. “Sorry I couldn’t help with anything,” 

Ashe waved him off. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m glad we were able to talk. You’ll stay and have dinner with the kids and I, won’t you?”

Dimitri nodded. “Of course.”

They ate around a large table in the main living room. It was an overly-boisterous imitation of a normal family dinner. The younger children scrambled to claim the biggest portions, while the older ones scolded them and tried to appear nonchalant. Ashe tried to keep everyone in check, but the atmosphere was still very energetic. Dimitri stayed quiet for the most part, but he did enjoy the meal, and seeing how the children interacted with each other reminded him of what he’d once been like. It was so normal!  

When Ashe and Dimitri left, the sun had set, so they walked through the dark streets to the monastery. They parted ways once they got there, but Dimitri quickly ran into Seteth. He was standing straight in front of the entrance to the second floor dorms, his posture ramrod-straight and his figure cutting a rather striking silhouette. His arms were crossed over his chest and his expression was rather dark.

“Prince Dimitri, I need to talk to you about my cousin,” Seteth said matter-of-factly as soon as he saw Dimitri coming. Dimitri liked that about Seteth--he never bothered with niceties. Dimitri could see why Byleth liked him so much.

“Fine, go ahead. Um, who?” Dimitri asked. Seteth scoffed, almost as if he were going to laugh.

“Daighre, of course,”

“You mean Ashe?” Dimitri asked. “Wait, you’re his--”

“Here’s the thing, your highness. It’s obvious to even the densest among us that you have feelings for him. I care a great deal for my cousin, and I just wanted you to know before taking this any further that I’ll do anything I can to give him a good life. That involves shielding him from heartbreak. He’s naive. If you aren’t serious about this, don’t pursue him.”

Dimitri blinked a few times. “Naive? I don’t think he’s--”

“He’s naive,” Seteth deadpanned. Dimitri seriously doubted that, but Seteth seemed committed to the idea, so he decided not to argue. Instead, he addressed the issue directly.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Seteth,” he said quietly. “I already know well enough that he deserves better than me. I’m not going to say anything about it.” 

Seteth looked almost startled that Dimitri had accepted his admonishment so quickly. He took half a step backward, thought for a few seconds, then tipped his head in Dimitri’s direction.

“Well. That’s good, then, Have a good night, your highness.”

He vanished as abruptly as he had appeared, leaving Dimitri both confused and slightly offended.

Byleth slept, her head resting perfectly in the crook of Seteth’s shoulder. Seteth was awake, but he didn’t move for fear of waking her. 

It had been a very long time since he’d loved anyone in this way. For whatever reason, one Seteth himself barely understood, the strange, wide-eyed, stoic mercenary had found her way into his heart. When he closed his eyes, he saw the battle that had claimed his wife’s life all those centuries ago, but this time, the one he couldn’t save was Byleth. That day would remain his biggest regret forever. 

The fear was irrational. Seteth knew this. Byleth was more than competent in battle—she would never need anyone to watch over her. But nightmares weren’t logical, and anxieties never abated. 

So if Seteth held Byleth a little closer, if he was a little protective of Flayn, or a little overzealous when it came to Ashe—could anyone really blame him?

Dorothea stood in the doorway of Edelgard’s bedroom, the dusky moonlight spilling in behind her. Half-awake, Edelgard stirred in bed and sat up. Her ivory hair, usually elaborately twisted in an updo, fell in her face in tangled trusses. Her lavender eyes blinked groggily. Dorothea smiled to herself. 

Saints, is this the woman I’ve fallen in love with?

“It’s just me, Edie,” Dorothea whispered as she slipped into bed next to her. “You can go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” Edelgard mumbled. She fell asleep immediately. Under the mist of nightfall, she didn’t have the mental presence to be flustered or admonish Dorothea for her impropriety. That was why Dorothea did it, after all. Edelgard would be mortified when she woke up, but in the meantime, Dorothea could hold her close. 

Three weeks later, the stealth team returned. The five of them stood at the head of the cardinals’ table and recounted their experiences. Despite the group’s large size, everyone was perfectly silent. 

“To speak plainly, life is mostly normal for the commoners of Enbarr,” Ingrid began. “If they keep their heads down, they can go about their lives.”

“You’re forgetting the giant mechanisms in the palace courtyard!” Leonie scolded. “There were these huge robots controlled by magic just sitting around in the open, where everyone could see them. It’s a threat, there’s no other way of looking at it.”

“Yeah,” Annette shuddered. “They were creepy, alright.”

“It’s true that the townspeople have to watch their actions, but most of the pressure falls on the nobility,” Ignatz mused. “More than anyone else, they’re walking on eggshells. They all know what happened to the ones who opposed the Agarthans at the beginning.”

“In that case, I doubt we can count on support from those who keep their seats, even superficially,” Lorenz said. 

“We don’t need it,” Claude insisted. Edelgard nodded. 

“Compared to us, their numbers are so small that we’ve got it made if we can get everyone into the capital.” 

Byleth hummed and tapped her chin a few times. “Don’t underestimate them. They are few in number, but they control powerful ancient magic. This battle will need to be quick and decisive. If we eliminate them before they have the chance to use these weapons, the war will be won.”

“Exactly,” Felix interjected with a smirk. “Speed and stealth will be key factors in this fight.”

“Before all that, we need to figure out how to smuggle our army into the city in the first place,” Lysithea reminded everyone. “That will be a tedious process.”

“She’s right, that should be the first priority,” Seteth nodded. “Claude, you’re something of a tactician, do you have any ideas?”

Claude smirked. “I thought you’d never ask.”

For most of them, it would be easy. Using forged identification and spreading the arrivals across several weeks would help them avoid suspicion. 

But it wouldn’t be that simple for everyone. 

The “high risk” group were the ones who were far too recognizable to attempt using a false identity. They included Edelgard, Dimitri, Claude, Byleth, Seteth, Petra, Caspar, Dedue, Hubert, Ferdinand, Lysithea, and Linhardt. There was Ashe, as well, but Claude needed him to play a slightly different role. 

“Ashe, bud, you’re still fireproof, aren’t you?” He asked one day, casually slinging an arm over his shoulders. Ashe looked slightly confused by the question. 

“Um, yes?” He answered. Claude smiled. 

“Fantastic. That’s all I needed to know for now.”

“Wait, what do you mean—”

Claude left without clarifying. 

Ashe knelt to the wooden floor of an abandoned warehouse that was just inside the borders of Enbarr. He’d managed to sneak into the city without drawing attention the day before, thanks to hair dye and makeup. Mercedes, who’d been in charge of the operation, insisted that they go for the same silvery gray he’d had back at the academy, out of some sense of nostalgia. Ashe had to admit, the look had grown on him, and it felt a little nice to have it back. It almost reminded him of a time when things were peaceful. 

A few dozen meters away from the empty building, there was a guarded checkpoint that travelers had to pass through to enter the city. Beyond that, hidden somewhere in the thick forests, the final group that had to be smuggled into the city was watching and waiting for Ashe to call the guards away. 

Ashe ran his fingers over the smooth grain of the floor, and as he did, lit the planks ablaze. The fire flared up faster than it ever would have if it had started naturally. Under Ashe’s watch, the emerald colored flames engulfed the room almost instantly. Within minutes, the entire building was burning. Through the smoke, Ashe glanced outside the window once again. As Claude had expected, the guards were rushing over, temporarily abandoning their post in their haste to put out the fire. Ashe’s part in the infiltration was over. He had to trust that the others would manage to sneak through while the guards dealt with the fire. Ashe left out the back and ran away before anyone could notice he was there in the first place. 

Dimitri peered into the city from his vantage point in the forest, watching the building that he knew would soon be consumed by fire. 

Ashe was in there, burning himself alive. 

(The ground was burning and the people were screaming and Dimitri’s head was spinning. All the world was fire, and the flames pressed in on him until he couldn’t breathe.)

The warehouse burst into flames and Dimitri’s heart pounded in his ears. 

“Will he really be okay?” Dimitri asked frantically, taking a step forward. Byleth stopped him by resting a hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, Dimitri.”

“He’ll be fine, your highness,” Seteth interjected. “I promise.”

Dimitri’s shoulders slumped. “You’ve seen him survive worse than this, right, Seteth?” He asked. His voice was low, seemingly an equal mixture of fear and fury. Seteth nodded. 

“Many times. He physically can’t be burned, and he has total control over his own flames. Trust me, Claude wouldn’t have come up with this plan if it were dangerous. You have nothing to worry about.”

Dimitri forced himself to take a breath. He was overreacting, like he always did. “If you say so,” he breathed. “You’d better be right.”

The now-deceased Count Varley owned a villa in Enbarr which now served as the army’s main base of operations. Bernadetta had taken her father’s title and kept her head down the last five years, and now it was paying off. In the eyes of the Agarthans, Bernadetta was just an eccentric, reclusive noble who wasn’t a threat to them at all. She was “Count Varley” in name only, for she had no obligations or responsibilities.  Now, the fact that she was so neglected by the farce that served as Adrestia’s central government would work in her favor.

The villa was rather crowded with all the officers, as well as their chosen soldiers and mercenaries, but they had to make it work. Every single room was transformed into a bedroom, and with six or seven people to a room, everyone fit. Bernadetta felt a little bad about the tight conditions, but it was short-term. The army had slowly filtered into the city over a period of three weeks, and now they were just waiting on one final group before the attack plan could solidify.

Bernadetta waited by the main entrance. They would be here soon.

She tried not to flinch when the door flung open, but she couldn’t help it. It was Ashe—a lingering smell of smoke thick in his clothes and a large smudge of charcoal on one of his cheeks. Bernadetta jumped back when she saw him, the image slightly frightening. He was slightly out of breath. 

“Hello, Bernadetta,” he greeted, and her nerves quickly dissolved. “The others should be here soon.”

“O-okay,” Bernadetta nodded. “Are you okay? I mean, what exactly happened?”

Ashe awkwardly laughed. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Claude had me start a fire near the checkpoint so everyone could sneak past. No one was hurt.”

“Oh!” Bernadetta gasped. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised, but it was still a little jarring to hear about it. “Well, if you need—”

Bernadetta was cut off by the door opening once again, and about a third of the missing group filing in. 

“Yo, nice job, Ashe!” Claude immediately said. The two did an elaborate high-five, and Claude turned toward Bernadetta, his expression immediately going back to a serious one. 

“Hey, thanks for letting us use this place, Bernie. We don’t wanna draw too much attention, so we decided to split into groups so people won’t notice us all coming here. The others should be here by tomorrow morning.”

Bernadetta nodded and tried to appear as though she knew what she was doing. Everyone else seemed to, and she couldn’t bring herself to be a burden. 

“Okay. I’ll let everyone else know and we can meet up in the first floor lounge once everyone gets here.”

“Sounds good, thanks!” Claude said cheerily. He was a little too high-strung for Bernadetta to handle in large doses, but being acknowledged was still nice sometimes. 

Bernadetta left to spread the word that everyone had made it into Enbarr safely. 

“Did you hear there was a fire on the outskirts of the city last night?”

“No, but why does it matter? Those things happen.”

“Sure, they happen, but the flames usually aren’t green.”

“Green? I think that can happen when certain metals burn… you’re searching for connections where there are none.”

“No I’m not. You know all those stories from our ancestors—one of the surviving Nabateans had control over fire. Considering what Seiros did at the monastery five years ago, it would make sense if the other survivors also got involved.”

“Goodness. I still think you’re being overly cautious, but I suppose we can investigate the fire further.”

“You’ll see. There’s something going on.”

“I wanted to thank you for sticking by me all these years,” Edelgard said. “It looks like the end of this war is coming, but I still have my own battles to fight afterward. I need to make sure the Church can’t mislead Fodlan anymore. I… I love you, but I understand if that’s not what you want. I just wanted to give you the choice.”

Dorothea laughed. “Edie, listen to yourself. I’m not going to abandon you. The Church of Seiros barely exists anymore.”

“Rhea is still out there somewhere. She’s the root of the Church’s problems. Dimitri thinks so too. Once he’s crowned king of Faerghus, he’s going to help me hunt her down.”

“Well, if that’s how you feel, I’ll stick with you,” Dorothea assured. “Don’t be silly, I wouldn’t leave you over something like that.”

Edelgard slowly smiled. “That’s reassuring. Thank you, Dorothea.”

“I told you something was wrong. There’ve been so many people entering the city recently. We have to find them.”

“We will.”

The army didn’t have time to get their footing before the Varley Villa was flooded by an unnatural wall of water. It took barely an instant for everyone inside to be submerged without warning or tossed beneath the waves. Most of the water drained quickly. 

“Shit, they found us!” Someone shouted. The flood was clearly caused by magic—there was no other explanation. 

Byleth stood up, soaked, standing in water up to her knees. She yelled to anyone within earshot,

“Watch your backs! The Agarthans are around here somewhere! Attack if you see them!”

There was no hesitation. They might not have had the chance to plan their battle, but now that they had the opportunity to take out some of the Agarthans, they were going to take it. People blurred past Byleth, rushing to the outside of the property to find whoever had casted the spell. She followed, pulling out her sword as she ran. She pushed to the front of the crowd and spotted a small group of people perched on the wall that surrounded the property. One of them was holding a glowing ball of magic, and the others held various weapons. While they were clearly the leaders, there were also dozens of regular soldiers guarding them, standing in the soaked grass in defensive stances.

Byleth grabbed Edelgard, who’d been walking past. 

“Spread the word. Don’t go after the generals until the others are taken care of. Be cautious.”

Edelgard nodded resolutely. “Yes, professor.”

She was gone before Byleth could tell her that the title wasn’t necessary. Byleth charged at the nearest soldier and took him down with a few slashes. She dodged a bolt of lighting from one of the mages, and when she whipped around to see who’d attacked her, Felix was already locked in a duel with the mage. Byleth turned toward a brawler as she threw a punch. The woman’s gauntlet grazed Byleth’s hip, but she managed to avoid major damage.

Claude soared over her on his wyvern, and when Byleth blinked, an arrow had skewered one of the brawler’s eyes. She staggered for a step, then collapsed.

Byleth waved up toward Claude and turned toward the next opponent.

On the opposite side of the yard, Dimitri slashed through anyone brave enough to approach him, all while steadily marching toward the wall where the masterminds were perched. They would all pay for what they’d done. To Dimitri, to Ashe, to thousands of people across their brutal history. Dimitri would have his vengeance. He would make sure they all felt the same pain they’d shown Dimitri’s family--

No.

He would cut them down so Fodlan would be safe. He would look to the future, not the past.

He would have his revenge, but he would do it calmly.

Justice.

Dimitri paused, and though his body kept moving, throwing out attacks left and right, his mind was quiet. He took a deep breath.

For the first time in years, his head was clear.

Dimitri kept fighting, but this time, he did it with precision and care. He would not become Rhea. He was better than that. At least he hoped he could be.

Ashe nocked an arrow and drew back. His hands sparked as he tried to light its tip aflame, but he was still soaked from the flood. He’d have to make do with regular arrows. Was that why they’d used water? Did they somehow know he was there and they were trying to make sure he couldn’t use fire?

Saints, was Ashe the reason the army had been discovered before they were ready?

He tried not to think about it. There would be time to worry over the details later.

He loosed his arrow and watched as it found its mark in an enemy soldier’s chest.

Seteth flew over the battlefield, desperately scanning the ground.

Flayn was tending to an injured soldier. She knew to stay away from the dangerous aspects of battle.

Ashe stood near the back of the fighting, firing arrow after arrow into the fray. He would be fine.

Byleth was in the center of a fast-paced battle. Opponents came at her left and right, but she took them all down without blinking. She was thriving.

Seteth drew his spear and dove down next to her. His wyvern circled her for a few steps, but she continued to slash through the enemies that surrounded her.

“Get on!” Seteth yelled over the cries of battle. Byleth glanced up at him, thought for a few seconds, then sprinted over, climbing onto the wyvern’s back behind him.

“Take me to the generals!” She called. “If we take them out, the others might surrender.”

Seteth nodded, and seconds later, they landed gracefully on the wall, just meters away from the battle’s masterminds. One of them, an older looking man with a deathly pale face and a large forehead, nearly screamed when he saw them.

“You!” He shouted at Byleth. “The Fell Star… you were supposed to be dead!” 

Byleth tipped her head to one side. “Sorry to disappoint,” she deadpanned. To Seteth, she whispered, “I’ll hold them off. Bring the others up here.” 

At the same moment Byleth lunged forward, Seteth drew back, taking to the air again to collect more fighters.

Byleth had learned to trust herself when it came to battles. The lingering residue of Sothis’ power within her gave her some chances to fix mistakes, but it wasn’t infinite. Byleth had to learn from her mistakes and try again if this went poorly.

A spiked arm made of pure darkness held her by the neck, forcing the air from her lungs. She struggled, but she couldn’t break free.

She went back.

She dodged the attack and managed to disarm the mage who had casted it, only to come face to face with a pale woman with bright orange hair. She was fast. Inhumanly fast. No matter how many attacks Byleth threw at her, she dodged them all. Until, that is, Edelgard dropped in behind her from Seteth’s wyvern and cleaved the woman over the head with her axe. Even her unnatural speed couldn’t protect her from the attack she didn’t know was coming.  

Byleth nodded gratefully at Edelgard and turned to the final general, a tall man with streaked white hair and pupilless eyes. Seteth soared past once again, and Ashe dropped onto the wall on the general’s other side. Right next to him, Claude landed from his own wyvern, holding his elaborate bow with an arrow already nocked. On the other hand, Ashe’s was slung over his shoulder and he’d switched to a pair of daggers. For a heartbeat that felt like an eternity, everyone on the wall was completely still, trying to gauge the situation. The Agarthan general smirked and crossed his arms.

“Hmph. It’s nice to see all of our pests are gathered in one place. This should certainly make it easier to crush you.”

No one replied. Behind Byleth, Seteth landed for the last time with Flayn and Dimitri in tow. The general targeted Claude first. A ball of purple flame charged in his hand for a split second before thrusting the magical weapon in Claude’s direction. There was barely enough time to react, but Ashe managed to shove him out of the way just before the magic hit, taking the brunt of the hit himself. Of course, he was unaffected by the fire itself, but the mist emanating off of him indicated poison. Ashe stumbled and dropped to one knee, pressing a hand to his chest, which was emanating an ominous purple light. Claude stood up, rubbing a scrape on his elbow, and tossed Ashe an antitoxin from the bag at his hip. The general watched this exchange in surprise.

“What on—”

But Dimitri didn’t let him get that far. He lunged forward and went for a stab to his stomach. The general saw the movement from the corner of his eye and managed to step back just in time so the stab missed his vital organs and ended up lodging in one of his hips. Dimitri yanked his weapon back and the man howled, falling to the ground and clutching his side. 

The rest of the group didn’t need any more preamble. As soon as they saw that he’d been immobilized, they gave up on being cautious and rushed toward him with their weapons drawn. Byleth was the first one to get to him. Her sword slashed across his throat and he collapsed, falling off the far side of the wall.

The world went silent. 

The following hours were a blur. 

The army managed to clear out all the stragglers, and they tended to the dead and wounded long into the night.

The war wasn’t over, but it was damn close. If they could reclaim the palace itself, that would be it. 

“This has to be quick,” Seteth started at what felt like the millionth in an unending series of strategy meetings. “They know we’re here now, so we don’t have the element of surprise. But we managed to take out a lot of their soldiers. I have full confidence that we can win this war with just one more decisive battle.”

Next to him, Byleth just silently nodded. She scanned the room and was rather disheartened by what she saw. Nearly everyone was injured in some way, and the atmosphere in the room was downright miserable. Aside from the battle injuries, no one had really dried out yet and the villa was still soaked, so most people were shivering and shaking out their wet hair and clothes. Mercedes and Flayn circulated through the room healing who they could, but they had clearly worn themselves out beyond their normal capabilities. Byleth frowned. 

“Look, everyone’s clearly very tired,” she finally spoke up. “We won’t be able to pull this off if you aren’t well-rested. Everyone, go get some food or sleep, and we’ll continue this discussion in four hours.”

A grateful sigh made its way around the room, and the fatigued group quickly dispersed. Only Seteth stayed. 

“What are you going to do when the war is over?” He asked after a pause. Byleth thought. She’d never known anything other than battle, so she wasn’t sure. Still, it might be nice to be able to relax. 

“I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “Edelgard says she’s going to war with the church, but I don’t think she’ll really do it.”

Seteth stiffened. “I hope not. The church barely exists at all, these days. And Rhea… we don’t know if she’s still alive. I know that she’s misguided, but she’s family. I don’t want to put her through more pain.”

Byleth nodded once. “I think the stress got to her. If we find her, it might be best if she settles down somewhere calm and quiet to live until she’s feeling better.”

Seteth hummed and stroked his chin. “I agree. She needs to recover from her long imprisonment. But… someone should rebuild the Church of Seiros. Someone has to make it better, bring the people of Fodlan together.”

Byleth raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to hint at something?”

Seteth weakly chuckled. “You caught me. I know I once told you that our future is yours to decide, but I still wanted to ask… will you take this on with me? There’s no one I’d rather work alongside.”

Finally, finally, Byleth smiled. “I’d love to.”

“Thank you, my love,” Seteth beamed. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“And don’t worry about Edelgard,” Byleth assured. “I’ll convince her to hold off for a while. I’m sure she’ll have bigger things to worry about after this, anyway.”

“What are you going to do when the war is over?” Dorothea mused. She and Edelgard had claimed one of the few bedrooms on the second floor that had avoided the flood, and she was gently brushing her fingers through Edelgard’s hair. “I know I’ve asked before, but now that it’s so close, everything feels much more real, don’t you think?”

Edelgard nodded, content. “I agree. And, well… I suppose I will be crowned Emperor. That’s certainly strange to think about.”

Dorothea giggled. “Sure is.”

“I don’t know if it’s really worth it to wage war on the Church of Seiros anymore,” Edelgard said softly, voicing the thoughts that she’d been too scared to acknowledge ever since they’d surfaced weeks ago. She knew Dorothea wouldn’t judge her for it, but it was still nerve wracking to admit that she might have been wrong about the Church. Dorothea paused before speaking. 

“Oh? Why do you say that?”

Edelgard felt herself flush, inexplicably defensive, even though Dorothea’s words were the furthest thing from an attack. 

“Well, most of the problems were from Seiros herself… and we don’t even know where she is or what she’s been doing these past five years. I now know that there’s more merit to the belief system than I originally thought, and I have reason to believe that the church might actually be… you know, true. I still think there are problems with the organization, but I’m starting to wonder if my previous view was a little too simplistic.”

Dorothea continued to gently comb through Edelgard’s hair. “I’m glad you’re self-reflecting. I think it’s a good idea to wait a while so the Adrestian Empire can stabilize. It takes time to recover from a five-year invasion, after all. How about you make sure everything is situated here, and you can reconsider in a few years?”

Edelgard found herself nodding along. “You’re right, Dorothea. That’s what I’ll do.”

“You should know by now that I’m quite smart,” Dorothea teased. “What would you do without me?”

Edelgard smiled. She knew Dorothea had meant it as a joke, but she really was right. What would Edelgard do without her?

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m so glad I have you,” she admitted. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh? Ask away,” Dorothea said smugly, almost as if she knew what was coming. Edelgard deeply inhaled.

“Do you want to get married when the war is over?” She asked. “I want to spend the rest of my life ruling Adrestia with you. I can’t imagine doing this without you, and I would be deeply honored if you would consider it.”

Dorothea was quiet for what felt like weeks. Edelgard was too nervous to look her in the eye, so she stared stubbornly ahead of her. Until Dorothea spoke, and all her nerves evaporated.

“Oh, Edie, I’ve been wondering when you would ask,” she said with a laugh. “I was planning on doing it myself, but it looks like you beat me to it.”

“Please tell me that means what I think it does.”

“Of course I’ll marry you,” Dorothea confirmed. 

Edelgard’s whole world soared. 

“You were right.” Dimitri leaned in the doorframe to the small basement kitchen that Ashe was rifling through. Ashe must have heard him coming, because he didn’t look surprised at all to see Dimitri. 

“Right about what?” He asked after a pause. Dimitri sucked in a breath. 

“About me. I realized it during the battle. I’m—I was just like Rhea. I don’t want to be like her. I can’t be blinded by anger in battle.”

Ashe’s face melted into a smile. “I’m so glad,” he said. “That’s good to hear.”

Dimitri nodded curtly, then abruptly changed the subject. “What are you going to do when the war is over?”

This time, Ashe answered without hesitation.

“I’ll go wherever I’m needed,” he said. Dimitri nodded as if he’d said something profound. Seteth’s words from all those weeks ago kept repeating in his mind.

“If you aren’t serious about this, don’t pursue him.”

“I think you’ll be needed in Fhirdiad,” Dimitri said quietly. 

He was serious. In fact, he’d never been more serious about anything in his life. Dimitri still thought that Ashe deserved better, but now Dimitri was determined to become that person, whatever it took. Ashe glanced up at him, confused. Dimitri was too nervous to hear his response right away, so instead, he rambled on and on, spilling out his thoughts in the most tactless way possible. 

“I think I’m in love with you, Ashe. If you’re amenable, there’s nothing I’d like more than to have you by my side for the rest of my life. W-whether that’s as the dear friend you already are, or as something more, I’m happy either way. Just, please consider it. I want your help to rebuild Faerghus. I don’t want to do it without you.” 

Ashe’s expression was unreadable. Dimitri scanned every feature individually; his dusty green eyes, his freckled cheeks, his recently dyed hair. He was the exact picture of when Dimitri had first met him. Dimitri couldn’t tell if he was surprised or disappointed. But it only seemed an instant before Ashe spoke and cleared everything up. 

“Dimitri, I love you too. But I don’t think you realize what you’re asking. I don’t want to cause you any harm, and when I live with humans for more than a few years, that’s usually where things end up.”

Dimitri blinked. “Do you mean you’re unlucky or something?”

Ashe shook his head. “Nothing like that. I just mean it’s a little jarring for people when I always stay as I am. Being around me seems to make people uncomfortably aware of their own mortality. I don’t want to do that to you, Dimitri. You deserve a full life without me around to bog it down.”

Dimitri didn’t hesitate. “I don’t care,” he insisted. “I want you with me, whatever that means. I’ll find a way to deal with those feelings if it means you’ll give me a chance. Please,”

Ashe nervously chewed his lower lip. “Are you sure?”

Dimitri simply nodded. Ashe smiled, stood up, and tightly hugged Dimitri around the torso. Dimitri wasn’t sure what to do, but then he relaxed into the embrace and returned it. 

“I’m so glad,” Ashe said. “I didn’t expect I would like you so much when I came to the academy. But the way you’re always striving to be better is truly admirable.”

Dimitri almost laughed. Ashe had stolen the words from his mouth. “I was thinking the same thing about you. You’re wonderful.”

Ashe sighed. “I’m nothing special, but that’s nice of you to say.”

Dimitri rested his head on top of Ashe’s. “I think we should work on your self esteem. But do you really mean you’ll come back to Fhirdiad with me?”

“Of course.”

Dimitri wasn’t sure if he wanted to leap for joy or cry tears of happiness. After just one more battle, he would be free. 

And, more importantly, Ashe would be with him. 

The remains of the Agarthan army fought diligently, but they had been so weakened by the previous battle that the fight was already won, even with the other army’s lingering fatigue. 

There were deaths and debilitating injuries, but they managed to recapture the Imperial Palace with relative haste. 

And in the basement, they found the prisoners that they had been so desperately seeking. 

Seteth flocked to Rhea and Byleth to Jeralt, but they were both filled with too much relief to speak. 

And then the real battle began: rebuilding Fodlan and bringing peace to the wartorn continent. 

Epilogue

Sacred Daughter

Rhea

The former archbishop retired once she was rescued from her imprisonment. No one knows exactly what happened to her, but accounts of the time claim that she was still filled with rage at the Agarthans. Accounts from shortly afterward, however, claim that she had found inner peace and reconciliation with what she’d lost. 

King of Unification

Claude

Immediately after the war, Claude entrusted governing of the Alliance to the other members of the Golden Deer house. For nearly twenty years, he vanished, and no one in Fodlan knew where he had gone. That is, until King Dimitri opened his borders for diplomacy with Almyra. When he came face-to-face with their king for the first time, he was shocked to find an old friend smiling back at him. 

Iron-Willed Emperor

Edelgard

Devoted Heart

Dorothea

Edelgard took the throne and did her best to rule Adrestia. It took patience and time, but the Empire eventually returned to the thriving country it had once been. Once that happened, she decided that war against the Church of Seiros was no longer necessary, and, in fact, would be a rather futile move on her part, considering the identity of the new archbishop. While many claimed that the Empire’s resurrection was solely due to Edelgard’s stern nature and strength, the Emperor herself often cited her wife Dorothea’s wisdom and determination as the true reason behind it.

Guardian of Peace

Byleth

Ally to the Archbishop

Seteth

After the war, Byleth and Seteth traveled across the continent together to spread the teachings of the Church of Seiros once again. After several years of efforts, Byleth was unanimously appointed as the new Archbishop, a role she accepted with great pride. All the while, Seteth was by her side, and it didn’t take long before the two were married. They retired after more than fifty years of service, and historical accounts aren’t sure what happened to them afterward. However, fables telling the stories of a couple that would appear in times of trouble and bring relief started cropping up soon after their retirement, and these stories would persist for centuries. 

Wartorn King 

Dimitri

Fleeting Flame

Ashe

King Dimitri was a well-known and loved figure, renowned for his level-headedness and careful judgment of every situation. Despite King Dimitri’s historical prevalence, not much is known about his spouse, Prince Ashe. Most accounts from the time revere him as an exceedingly kind and generous man. The royal couple adopted many children together, who all grew up to be wise rulers and knights themselves. King Dimitri died at the age of eighty nine, and legend says that Prince Ashe was at his side as he passed, still a perfect picture of youth. Historians agree that this was likely an exaggeration. There is no death certificate on record for the prince, but the generally accepted story is that Ashe died soon after Dimitri did, because all mentions of him in palace records disappear about two years after the king’s death. 

To this day, there are stories of a young man taking in children who experience tragedy and giving them good lives. Despite his many charges, no one can come to a consensus on his name.