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Chapter Text

31^st of the Verdant Rain Moon, Imperial Year 1161

A Duscur mother cradled her new-born baby, smiling down at him softly. The boy shifted and grumbled, revealing the mark on the right of his chest, just below his neck.

Her husband had already identified it as Diablos, a powerful Aeon for a Scion to have.

In Duscur, those the people in Fόdlan call summoners are known as Scions, and Eidolons are called Aeons. In the past, Scions were respected and revered, people believing them to have been granted favour from one of their gods and giving their Aeon to help them. However, one group of Scions became filled with greed and the war they waged devastated the country. Since then, Scions became deeply mistrusted and feared, most communities casting them out, believing them to be omens of doom and misfortune. Though it was better than Fόdlan’s outright hostility and condemnation, they still found it better to hide their gifts.

However, these thoughts didn’t trouble the young woman, her husband was highly knowledgeable about Aeons, coming from a long line of Scions himself. His though was Faerie, an Aeon skilled at healing magic, so the more complex Diablos would be a different challenge, but his family had long kept records of various Aeons.

She looked towards the future in hope, Dedue was a strong baby, and she was certain that he would master the powers given to him by Diablos, complex as they were.

She hummed gently, rocking the boy gently as he settled, not even twitching as his father came in from the forge.

He’d dropped everything when she’d gone into labour, rushing to her side, and abandoning his work. He’d spent the quiet after the birth tidying and shutting down the forge as she fed and settled their son. Now though, he softly approached and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“He’s already asleep?”

She nodded gently, “Yes, he dropped off as soon as he was done eating.”

He lowered himself into the only other chair in their small home, near the fire, “I looked into the kind of magic he’ll have.”

She looked at him in interest, each Aeon granted only a certain selection of magic, though the size of the selection varied, and while he remembered that Diablos’ magic was complex, he didn’t fully remember what type it was.

“Apparently Diablos is a master of Space-Time magic.”

Her eyebrows shot up, Space-Time magic was very complex and rare, they only knew it existed because of old Scion tales and records. To think that her son had access to such a rare magic.

Her husband grinned, “I know, I barely believed it myself, but Faerie assures me that’s the case.”

An Aeon could converse inside the mind of their Scion, even if they weren’t currently summoned, and her husband often said that Faerie was very talkative.

She looked down at her sleeping child, “Is there something coming, why would our son be given such a magic.”

“I don’t know.” He smiled again, “But there’s no use worrying over it now. We don’t need to trouble him until he’s older.”

He had a point, it would be a few years at least before Dedue would even be able to summon Diablos, they would wait until his sixth birthday for that, and even longer before he would be able to do any really powerful magic. For now, they could just enjoy having their new son.

Dedue grumbled and shifted again, and she carefully tucked the blanket wrapped around him in a bit, covering the mark once more.

“One day little one, you’re going to be a better Scion than even your father.”

“Hey!”

Her husband gave a soft cry of pretend indignation, but she simply smiled, and he shook his head, “Just because Faerie doesn’t have a single aggressive spell to her name.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that.” She assured him, “I just meant our son would be better because he would have an amazing teacher.”

He gave a soft laugh, “I love you.”

He carefully came over and gently stroked Dedue’s head, “And I love him too.”

  18^th of the Harpstring Moon, Imperial Year 1162

A young couple fondly watched their sleeping baby, observed by an older man who sat in silence. Raphael, currently fast asleep, had arrived in the early hours and much later than expected. By now, it was long into the night, the day consumed by looking after Raphael and his mother after the birth. At this stage, the boy could be summed up in a single word.

Big.

He had a big body, could make a big noise, and had a big appetite to go with all of that. All the healers that had looked at him had agreed that he was going to stay that way, and the family had jokingly wondered where he got his size from since most of them were pretty average in that regard. They then decided that his great-grandfather’s size had skipped a couple of generations, he’d been a top War Master in his time, but one couple knew that the boy’s size wasn’t the only thing that had skipped generations.

As the couple continued to watch over their sleeping child, the older man looked to his wife, who’d been quietly tidying around the room, and they came to a silent understanding. The man spoke, “Well, we should leave you two to get some rest, you know he won’t sleep long enough to give you a decent night’s sleep.”

The young man turned from his son, “Are you sure father?”

He smiled, “Don’t worry son, we’re not going far.”

His wife agreed, “Indeed, and don’t hesitate to come to us if you need any help.”

Bidding their farewells, and promising to return in the morning, the new grandparents took their leave, soon exiting into the cool night air. The house they left was slightly bigger than those of most commoners, the boon of having a successful business, and had been inherited from the two people who now slowly walked to their own, more modest, home nearby.

They were sure to be well out of earshot before broaching the topic that was on both their minds.

“Are you certain that he has the ability.”

His question was deliberately cryptic, couldn’t be too careful after all, but his wife understood.

“Yes, the mark is on his right shoulder. Thankfully, everyone there was far more concerned with the birth, I managed to magically hide it before it was noticed.”

He gave a sigh of relief, “That’s good.”

There was silence for a bit, until she sighed herself, “I’d hoped it’d not manifest in anyone, especially since it didn’t with our son.”

“But we never could be sure it wouldn’t.” He pointed out, “The ability to summon is passed down through bloodlines.”

“I know, but I’ve never heard of it skipping a generation before.” She looked at him, her face creased with worry, “Maybe we should’ve told…”

“We had good reasons not to.”

She nodded, “I know.”

Summoning, an ability that was rarer than crests, and didn’t have nearly the prestige. It was dogmatically treated as a sin and an affront to the Goddess, the church claiming that summoners meddled in the order of nature and her will. This meant continent-wide persecution and hostility, with any discovered summoners finding swift and harsh judgement.

Of course, the ability to summon was entirely inherited and no one who had it got a choice about it, so entire families were destroyed centuries ago after the initial declaration by the church. However, some summoners survived, and their powers lingered on as they hid them from the world and continued to hide their children.

Unfortunately, unlike crests that need proper equipment to identify them, summoners had a physical mark somewhere on their bodies that identified their Eidolon, the being that they could summon. This meant they physically had to hide the mark, an impossible task for a baby.

“We should’ve told him.”

His wife said those words with deep regret, regret he fully felt.

She was also a summoner, able to call upon Sylph, but that information had not been shared with their son. He hadn’t been born with the ability, so they believed that if the worse happened, he would be genuinely ignorant of his mother’s ‘sin’ and spared punishment. Sadly, this meant he bought into the church’s doctrine and believed that summoning was evil, and they feared what he and his wife would do if they knew about Raphael’s power.

“The illusion spell I’ve used is strong, and subtle, no one will notice it’s there.”

Her words pulled him from his thoughts, and he nodded, “At least that will give us time.”

Sylph granted his wife illusion magic, and years of practice and necessity had made her skilled, she could create ongoing illusions that were hard for most mages to detect. However, it wasn’t a permanent solution, any illusion she created will dissipate with her death, but they would hopefully get years to work things out.

He looked to her once more, “Do you know which Eidolon he has?”

“I’m planning on looking into it.”

Chapter Text

15^th of the Red Wolf Moon, Imperial Year 1172

“Get up boy!”

Raphael blinked dully, shaken awake and blearily looked up.

“Grandpa…?”

His grandfather pulled him roughly out of bed, “There’s no time Raphael, you need to get ready to leave, now!”

Still confused, the boy slowly began putting on the clothes his grandfather threw at him, “Why…is it Grandma?”

He knew that she’d been ill for some time now, had something happened?

His grandfather paused briefly, then sighed, “Yes.” He grasped Raphael’s shoulders, “I’ll explain everything to you soon, but first, we need to leave.”

Raphael was still confused, but something in the man’s eyes stopped him questioning further, he simply nodded and swiftly got ready. Soon, he was creeping after his grandfather, through the dark house and towards the door. They’d just reached it when a single voice stopped them.

“Father, what are you doing?”

His grandfather closed his eyes and breathed deeply, but Raphael looked back and spoke up, “Pa?”

His father spoke calmly, “Raphael, come here.”

In normal circumstances, he’d have obeyed without question, but something in his father’s voice made him hesitate, as did his grandfather pushing him lightly behind him.

“You don’t want to do this boy.”

Grandpa’s voice was low and warning, but his father was not intimidated by the older man.

“No, you don’t want to do this.”

“How could you consider your course of action, he’s your own son!”

“That’s why I’m doing this, if the church knew what he was, it would be a disaster. However, Lord Essar has offered to cure…”

“You can’t trust that man!” Grandpa’s voice had risen, and was now closer to a shout, “There’s nothing to cure! Even if there was, Essar wants nothing more than to control him for more power.”

“It’s still better than the alternative!” his father snapped back, “The church will simply kill him!” He sighed, “The research Lord Essar’s relative has done in crests alone surely means…”

“Absolutely nothing!” Grandpa snarled, “Hanneman Von Essar renounced his status and works for the church, Lord Essar has none of his research!”

“It doesn’t matter.” Raphael’s father shook his head, “I’m sorry Father.”

Suddenly, rough hands grabbed Raphael, yanking him back towards the door. He let out a yelp of surprise and his grandfather spun round, but the boy was pulled away. His vision blocked by a hefty shape, he heard a soft thump, but was out the door before he knew it, crying out.

“PA!”

His father came but didn’t help him. Instead, he looked to a strange man, who bowed to him respectfully, “Your assistance is most appreciated Master Kirsten. Lord Essar promises to do everything he can to heal the boy’s affliction.”

That was the last Raphael saw of his family for a long time.

13^th of the Ethereal Moon, Imperial Year 1172

Dedue fought through the deep snows, aimlessly wandering the wilderness of Duscar as he pulled his cloak tightly around him.

He had nowhere to go, and no family to turn to, not anymore.

His life had been peaceful, growing up in a quiet little village with his mother, father and younger sister. He’d taught many things about his gift as a Scion and had even summoned Diablos upon his sixth birthday as per family tradition. By now, he had the ability to use several of his lower level spells thanks to his training and practise, but it hadn’t been enough.

Monsters, what had attracted them, he didn’t know, but several giant wolves had descended upon their home. The people had moved to defend themselves, with some initial success, but they weren’t equipped to deal with such creatures and more kept coming.

His father had pushed him and his sister into hiding, running out to join the defenders, his mother close behind, but neither came back and one wolf found them. He’d tried to use his magic, but the wolf was too big, forcing them to run for it.

Which was exactly what the monsters wanted them to do.

They got corralled into a dead end, along with everyone else, and the wolves began snatching stragglers and easy targets from the panicked.

Including his sister.

He hadn’t seen it, the crowd had separated them, but he’d heard her scream and he’d reacted without thought, calling Diablos forth in raw terror.

It was over in moments.

Diablos came, in his full form, and not a single wolf escaped him. All of them were caught in his powerful magic and destroyed there and then, but it was far too late for his family, and the village went with them.

Everything afterwards was a blur of grief, fear and confusion, and suddenly, he found himself alone in the wilderness, the people of his village having cast him out because they blamed him for all their woes and loss.

Only Diablos kept him going.

“There’s a cave ahead. You should rest there tonight.”

Dedue nodded, “Okay.”

As his Aeon, Diablos could speak to him in his mind since he’d been summoned at least once, and he’d pushed Dedue onwards.

“You’re almost there.”

The boy didn’t answer, but pressed on, soon coming to the cave Diablos had pointed out. It wasn’t very big, more a hollow than a cave, but it was shelter and could be warmed by a fire. A scarce advantage Dedue had was that he’d been given a few scant supplies before he was thrown out, so he had enough to create a fire with the wood Diablos had told him to gather on the way.

Soon, the small flames flickered against the gathering dark, and he sat and stared at them numbly.

“Dedue…”

Diablos’ voice was gentle.

“Yes?”

“It’s okay to grieve now. I’m here, and I always will be. So, grieve.”

Dedue did.

1^st of the Guardian Moon, Imperial Year 1173

Raphael stood fearfully in front of Lord Essar.

In appearance, the noble wasn’t too intimidating, he was tall, thin and bore a regal air, but there was something in the way he looked at him that terrified the boy.

He’d been brought to an isolated manor and had spent some time there in a simply furnished room, under careful watch. Lord Essar had come a few days afterwards and had carefully examined the mark on his right shoulder, one Raphael was sure hadn’t been there before he was taken. The noble had been delighted about it for some reason and had left once more, leaving strict instructions.

In short, Raphael was allowed a little leeway around the building, but couldn’t leave it, not even to go into the grounds, and apart from the guards and the couple of staff that dealt with him, there was no one else around.

Eventually, after a couple of weeks of him just simply wandering the building, Lord Essar returned, and demanded his presence in the huge grounds.

The Lord paced around him, then cast an eye over the surrounding area, before finally settling back into a seat that had been brought out for him.

“Now boy, here’s what I want you to do. Summon Alexander!”

“What!?”

One of the guards whacked Raphael around the head, “Do not question Lord Essar boy!”

He winced as the man went to strike again, but Lord Essar intervened, “Enough, I suspected that he hasn’t been made aware of his abilities.” He looked back at Raphael, “You are a summoner boy, and that means you have the ability to call upon the powers of an Eidolon, in this case, Alexander. What you need to do is speak his name, and he shall appear, fail to do so and you’ll be punished accordingly. You have three chances.”

Raphael gulped, he had no idea what Essar wanted, but he didn’t have any other choice. The noble gestured to the empty grounds, and he turned to face them, speaking in a trembling voice. “A-Alexander.”

Nothing happened, one chance down.

“Alexander.”

Again, nothing. He glanced back at the Lord, who simply stared at him, and he swallowed again, body trembling and desperation made his voice more akin to a frightened squeak.

“Alexander!”

This time, he felt something, a shift inside him and a sort of surge. The atmosphere around them changed, and light began to glow before him. It grew and shaped itself, taking on a distinct form, around him, the guards gasped and he dimly heard Essar speaking in excitement.

“Yes, that’s it!”

Suddenly, the light dissipated, revealing what could best be described as an armoured fortress. Its head was that of a helm, but the body was more like a metal plated building as it towered over them and the manor.

All Raphael could do was stare as the being seemed to gaze down upon him, he had no idea what he’d done, but it was both amazing, and absolutely terrifying.

Suddenly, he felt exhausted, and he just about noticed his rapid approach to the floor before he blacked out.

He slowly came to, finding himself back in the room that had been made his since being brought to the manor.

Early morning sunlight came in through the window, indicating he’d been out all night.

“Are you alright little one?”

Raphael gave a yelp of terror and fell out of the bed, causing the sudden voice to rapidly speak apologetically.

“I’m sorry little one, its only me, Alexander.”

Alexander, the same thing Lord Essar forced him to say. Raphael frowned.

“Alexander?”

“Yes, I am the one you summoned yesterday.”

“You mean, the massive knight in the grounds? I summoned you?”

“Indeed.” Alexander spoke gently, “I assume you know little of what is happening. In short, I am what your people refer to as an Eidolon, and you are my summoner. The one you know as Lord Essar forced you to summon me yesterday, but the amount of magic you used to do so caused you to collapse.”

“I don’t understand, I don’t know what’s going on, they just took me, and Pa let them…I…don’t know…”

“Raphael, it will be alright. Just know that I will do everything I can to look after you.”

Raphael curled in on himself, gripping his knees tightly, “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Chapter Text

Blue Sea Moon, Imperial Year 1175

In the years following his exile, Dedue had travelled far with Diablos’ help.

At the Aeon’s suggestion, he’d headed out of Duscur and into Faerghus, but the suspicion and discrimination from the people there caused him to head south into the Empire. As he travelled, he gradually learned skills to help him survive on the road and somewhat pay his way. Unfortunately, a child travelling alone was always going to attract attention, so he ended up keeping his head down out of sight and notice, and never lingered somewhere longer than necessary.

He’d been told enough by his parents to know that Scions (or summoners, as the people of Fόdlan called them) were persecuted even more greatly here, secrecy was paramount.

As he travelled through the Empire, he attracted less attention, but Dagda and Brigid began their invasion, and he fled eastward, away from the war. With so many commoners fleeing or being forced out, he became just another face in the crowd.

This brought him to where he was now, a tavern in a small village out amongst the remote hills.

He’d convinced the owner to allow him to work for food and lodging, and the man had even offered him some gold for it as well. As such, he’d stayed for a few days to earn some money and stock up before moving on. In these isolated communities, very few people cared about his origins, they were all far removed from the issues of the world and paid them little heed. To most there, he was a wandering boy and little more than a passing oddity.

As he helped with bits of the cooking and the bar-work, a conversation between two patrons at the bar caught his attention.

“I’m telling you, that old manor that belongs to the Essar’s, there’s something funny going on up there.”

The speaker was a local hunter and his companion, a local farmer, shook his head, “Don’t be ridiculous. Yes, there’s few people staying there now, but its probably just some member of the noble family who screwed up and got sent away to avoid staining the family name. These things happen in the noble circles.”

“But the place was basically abandoned for years, now people live there, and don’t tell me you haven’t seen the odd light that comes from it at times.”

“What manor?”

The two men looked at Dedue in surprise, and the farmer answered, “Oh yeah, you wouldn’t know kid.” He explained, “Basically, the Essar family who oversee the area, have a big old manor house way up in the hills. It used to be a deeply private retreat for them until several years ago, then until about two and a half years ago, the place was abandoned.”

The hunter took up the explanation, “But then, a few members of staff and guards moved back into the place. They occasionally come to the village and the farms for supplies, but no one is allowed anywhere near the building. On top of that, bright light sometimes can be seen from the direction of the manor.”

The tavern owner’s wife cut into the conversation, “Don’t let his rumours bother you lad, that light is nothing more than a trick of the sun on the hills.”

An older man at the bar also added his opinion, “I don’t know about that Brenda, I studied a bit of magic in my time and there’s something funny in the air when that light shows.”

“So, they’re practising some kind of magic.” The famer threw in, “Nothing odd about that, especially amongst nobles, and the Essars in particular.”

The old man shook his head, “It doesn’t feel like any magic I know, and it doesn’t account for the other strange thing.”

By now, Dedue was very interested, “What other strange thing?”

The old man leaned forward, “It was a bit after they started using the manor again, one night, a bunch of fighters came through the village at close to midnight. I was having trouble sleeping that night and saw them from my window, funny thing was, they had a young boy with them. The poor lad looked exhausted and terrified if you ask me. Even stranger, those same people came back through the village the next day from the manor, and the boy wasn’t with them.” He took a quick swig of his ale, then continued, “I’m telling you, there’s something going on up there.”

The farmer scoffed, “C’mon, its obvious what happened, one of the Essars had a fling, got an illegitimate child who showed a talent for magic, and now they’ve hidden the kid away to preserve the family name while they train him.”

The old man tapped the bar counter, “And I’m telling you that normal magic doesn’t feel like that, you wouldn’t be able to feel it from this distance anyway. Something about it is different, and powerful, I’d stake my life on it!”

Much later that night, Dedue sat in his loaned room, deep in thought.

“You’re suspicious about that manor, aren’t you?”

Diablos said that as more of a statement, rather than a question, but Dedue answered anyway, “Yes, a strange magic, and a mysterious boy taken there in the dead of night. It seems strange.”

“You think he’s another Scion?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t be surprised, of course you’d be unknowingly keeping an eye out for someone else like you. Though, another Scion would account for the traces of magic I’ve been sensing.”

The boy gasped in surprise, “You’ve been sensing magic!?”

“Yes, though it was so faint, I assumed it was an old trace and of no importance, but it could be that we’re simply too far away for me to get a good sense of it.”

“Do you think It’s worth investigating?”

Diablos answered without hesitation, “Yes.”

For the last two and a half years, Raphael had only two sources of comfort, Alexander and Skipper.

Alexander had been an invaluable friend during his imprisonment, the Eidolon giving verbal advice, comfort and simple presence. At the very start, he encouraged Raphael to keep their ability to converse a secret, something the boy did gladly, and he’d been there throughout the days, weeks and months.

Skipper was slightly different in that he wasn’t actually a person. In reality, Skipper was a stuffed otter toy that Raphael had found in one of the unused rooms. Not being allowed personal belongings, he’d smuggled the toy into his room and cuddled it at night for comfort, hiding it away when he wasn’t there.

The days passed in constant routine. Every morning, he’d be awoken by a bang on the door at dawn, he’d dress for the day, choosing from clothes that were all the same, and then be escorted to breakfast. Once, he’d eaten the same porridge, he was taken to the library for ‘testing’, bringing him into contact with the only other person that spent any large amount of time with him.

The mage, whom Raphael never learned the name of nor saw their face, would proceed to order him to perform the spells he knew, which consisted of Holy, and Cure, until he ran out of energy. He’d then rest and start the castings all over again until he had to rest once more and repeat until lunch. Once he’d eaten, he then got free time to wander the empty manor until he was summoned to the grounds and made to exercise by the same mage. This led to dinner, which led to being washed, which led to being locked in his room and left to sleep until the whole thing began again the next morning.

Night was by far his favourite part of the day.

Once his door was locked, he’d take Skipper from his hiding place and settle into his simple bed. Once ready, Alexander would then tell him a story, the Eidolon bringing to life ancient fairy tales and legends, taking Raphael away from his imprisonment and far away to magical lands and exciting adventures. Sometimes, the Eidolon would tell a story of family, or one of some mystery solved by close friends, other times, he’d tell of dramatic battles, or of strange and incredible people who lived far from Fόdlan.

No matter what story he told, Raphael would always be enthralled until he finally gave in to sleep.

“So, little one. What story do you want tonight?”

Raphael rolled onto his side; Skipper already held in his arms.

Though he sort of knew he should be too old to still need to have a stuffed toy in bed, he never wanted to give the habit up, Skipper was too valuable to him now.

He thought for a moment, then answered, “Can I get the one about Ike, and the way he and Queen Elincia faced down Ashnard?”

Alexander chuckled in his mind, “You do rather like that one.”

Raphael smiled, “Well yeah, Ike is really strong, and he doesn’t start as a lord, not like in lots of the other tales.”

The Eidolon laughed again, “I see, just remember that it’ll take several nights to get through the whole thing.”

“I know.” The boy’s smile became sadder, “It’s not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Don’t say that Raphael. You’ll leave this place one day. I am certain of it.”

He turned his eyes longingly to the window, “But when? How long do I have to be trapped here?”

Alexander sighed, “I cannot say, but you will be free one day, and I will go with you wherever you choose to go.”

The smile returned, “Thank you.”

“Now then. I believe I have a story to tell.”

As the Eidolon weaved his tale, Raphael let his mind take him to the places he described, losing himself in the fantasy of characters who were free.

Chapter Text

Blue Sea Moon, Imperial Year 1175

For a quiet private retreat, the manor house was stupidly big to Dedue’s mind.

Of course, to a noble, it was probably smaller than most, but the boy still thought it ridiculous. Who needed a second home that size anyway?

He scouted carefully around the base of the overgrown garden walls, looking for a way in. The main entrance was locked shut and he’d seen the very bored guard on the inside, keeping an eye on it, but it seemed there were few people about the grounds. According to what he’d learned in the village, few people had been seen residing at the house, though several were sure that one of the Essars visited the place periodically, though in a very secretive way.

His eyes caught sight of what he was after, sturdy vines that reach up to the top of the wall around the back of the house, with thick bushes at their base. It seemed that the manor’s occupants weren’t too concerned with tending to anything outside the walls, and that suited him just fine.

Dedue lightly tested his natural ladder, and carefully began to climb, strength and skill built up over his near three years of exile coming into play. Soon, he reached the top and carefully peered over the top of the wall.

The grounds were large, and mostly left wild behind the building. There was no one in sight, so he took the chance to climb fully onto the wall and leap into a handy tree growing close to it. Moving about carefully, he found himself a secure perch, the summer leaves allowing him to hide in plain sight.

As he kept watch, he spoke quietly to Diablos, “Is the magic you’ve been sensing any stronger?”

“Yes, it is.” The Aeon swiftly responded, “And it is definitely connected to another Aeon, in fact an Aeon has been summoned here several times, though not for a while. Even you should be sensing it in some way.”

Dedue frowned, “Is it that weird tingling sensation in the air?”

“That’s the one. Normal spells aren’t really traceable after casting unless you’re an experienced mage or Scion, but a full summoning leaves noticeable traces for quite some time, and over large distances. That’s likely why they’re basing themselves somewhere so remote, to avoid notice.”

Dedue spotted movement, and watched carefully as a blonde boy jogged around behind the house and beneath the tree, he was hiding in. He waited until the boy went around the corner of the manor before carefully climbing out of the tree to follow him using the overgrown bushes as cover.

In time, he found himself around the front of the house and watched as the other boy came to a halt in front of a robed and masked figure. Dedue couldn’t hear what they said from his hiding place, but it seemed the other boy was being put through some sort of exercise regime, as he was sent on another lap around the house.

“I don’t like the look of that mage.”

Diablos’ tone was suspicious, and Dedue understood, “Agreed, there’s something about him that just feels wrong.”

“Other than his ‘I’m an evil mage’ robes and sinister beaked mask?”

The boy gave a small smile at the Aeon’s dry words as he answered, “Yes.” He frowned, “Its like there’s a sinister air about him.”

“Its dark magic, and a kind that’s more potent than what can be used by normal mages. This guy uses some seriously screwed up spells if his magical presence is like this.”

“So, there is definitely something going on here.”

“That’s right, and I think we need to get that boy away from him as soon as possible, whether he’s a Scion or not.”

Dedue nodded firmly, “We’ll do it tonight.”

Night eventually fell, but Dedue gave it a bit longer just to be sure.

He’d stolen his way around to the back of the house during the afternoon, staking out the kitchen entrance. He’d barely seen anyone as he’d waited, only the boy and the mage, and a singular cook who stepped out of the back door to swig some ale. Other than that, the grounds remained empty and quiet, indicating very few people actually in residence.

The coast clear, Dedue dared to leave his hiding place and stole over to the door, he paused beside it briefly to listen, but heard nothing from the other side and carefully tested it.

It swung open quietly, and he warily peered around it, finding himself in some sort of storage space leading to an open doorway beyond. Creeping over to this, he checked the kitchen, finding the same cook from before tending to the huge fireplace.

Dedue raised his hand and muttered a single word.

“Slow.”

Immediately, the cook’s motions reduced to a crawl, and the boy hurried across the kitchen and out the next door into the main house. As its name suggested, the spell ‘Slow’, very temporarily slowed the flow of time for a single target and was one of the spells Diablos granted him. It was harmless in and of itself, but it was a good way to slip by people, since, to their perception, he’d be moving too fast for them to notice him.

Safely in the hall, Dedue snuck onwards, past the dark dining room and some sort of lounge, before slowing down and stopping just before an open door that had firelight coming out of it.

Carefully, he peeked around the doorframe, only to duck out of sight quickly again upon seeing two men within what was some sort of study.

The sinister mage from earlier, and what looked like another mage.

They were deep in conversation, so Dedue listened carefully.

“Lord Essar will be making another visit soon to check on the boy’s progress, we’ll have to make sure that the house will be ready to receive him.”

“Of course, and I’m sure he’ll be pleased with our progress so far.”

“Naturally, the boy’s pool of magic has grown considerably since we started, even without us enhancing it.”

“I must say I’m surprised; the physical training was initially to strengthen him enough to increase his chances of surviving the enhancement procedures, but it seems that strengthening his physical body has strengthened his magic pool as well.”

“Indeed, it looks like a summoner’s magic is linked to their body, perhaps the stronger their body, the more magic they can store and expend.”

“If these are the results with traditional methods, imagine what the enhancements will do.”

“I can, I believe Lord Essar will be keen to move onto those now.”

Dedue nearly gasped, they were planning some sort of enhancement experiments, he had to get the boy out of here, even more so now there was no doubt he was a Scion like him, but how to get past the door?

He carefully peeked in again and spotted an open ink pot on the edge of the desk the mages were sitting at.

Perfect.

He focused on the pot, and barely whispered another spell.

“Centre-shift.”

This spell momentarily shifted a small object’s centre of gravity, it was short-lived, but effective on this particular target.

The ink pot toppled of the desk, spilling its contents over the floor and eliciting cries of frustration from the mages. As hoped, both of them were distracted and swooped to clear the mess up, giving him the chance to shoot past the door.

Quietly, he padded down the hall until he reached the stairs, which he scuttled up into the dark corridor above.

Most of the rooms here had open doors, but were largely empty or had covered furniture, however, one room had its door tightly closed, and he headed straight for it. Trying the door revealed it to be locked, increasing its chances of being the room he was looking for. Unfortunately, he was no good at picking locks and none of his spells were any use for that either. He glanced around and his eyes fell on a key hanging from a hook beside the door.

That would work.

Raphael had been listening to Alexander’s story, when the door to his room rattled.

The Eidolon stopped speaking, and the boy sat up in bed, holding Skipper a little tighter.

“I think someone is trying to get in.”

He knew it got locked every night, he’d tested it himself before, but any of the guards would know this as well, they wouldn’t try to open it without unlocking it.

There was silence, then the familiar sound of the key being inserted and turned, the door giving a soft click and swinging open to reveal a complete stranger.

Raphael could only stare, as a boy about his age stepped into the room and whispered urgently.

“Uh, hello. I’m Dedue, I’m here to rescue you.”

Raphael blinked, “Rescue me?”

The other boy (Dedue apparently) nodded urgently, “Yes, I mean, I assume you want to get away from here.”

“Yes, you most definitely do.”

Alexander’s prompt pulled him from his surprise, and Raphael practically flung himself out of bed, “Yes! Yes, I do!”

Dedue hushed him, “Not so loud!” He quickly glanced out the door, “Get something to travel in, quickly.”

Obediently, Raphael grabbed some of the clothes he had and changed swiftly while his rescuer kept watch. Soon, he was ready to go, and the other boy smiled, “Good, now follow me quietly.”

He led the way out the room, Raphael close behind and still holding Skipper, and the two boys snuck down the corridor and onto the staircase. They’d just reached the bottom, when the large front doors swung wide open, revealing one of the guards.

Both parties froze upon seeing each other, then the guard snapped to his senses.

“OI! What are you doing!”

Raphael cringed, mind instantly jumping to the fact he was going to be punished for this, but Dedue acted, throwing his hand out and speaking commandingly.

“Demi!”

Instantly, the very air around the guard seemed to warp and twist, then the man was flung backwards out the door. Before he could really register what had happened, Dedue had grabbed his wrist and began dragging him out the open door.

“Come on!”

The sound of people coming up behind them spurred him on, and soon they were both sprinting across the grounds, around the manor, and towards a large tree by the wall. Glancing back, Raphael gave a cry of fear.

“They’re gaining on us!”

Once again, Dedue grabbed his wrist and sent back a quick smile.

“Hastera!”

He felt a strange feeling wash over him, and suddenly the world was flashing past in a blur. Then he realised that it was because they were moving faster, much faster. Another look back revealed their pursuers to be moving extremely slowly, unnaturally slowly.

Before he knew it, they were at the tree and climbing its branches, then they were over the wall, down some vines and sprinting away from the manor. It filtered through that they were now going at normal speed, but the distance they’d covered was enough, they were going to be hard to catch now, he was free.

Raphael burst out laughing, even as he kept running, the jubilation at this revelation fuelling his limbs, giving him more strength to keep running.

They kept going, until exhaustion finally brought them to a halt amongst a small copse of trees and they sat down, panting heavily.

Once they’d finally got their breath back, Raphael looked to his saviour.

“Thank you so much.” He leaned back, “I can’t believe I’m out of there!”

Dedue grinned, “You're welcome.” He then looked at him enquiringly, “You know, I didn’t ask you for your name, did I?”

Raphael laughed, “No, you didn’t.” He grinned back, “Its Raphael.”

The other boy nodded, “Okay.” He stood, “We should keep moving, try and put as much distance between us and them as possible.” As Raphael also stood, Dedue kept speaking, “I’ve stowed my stuff away in a small cave nearby, so we’ll grabbed that first. Then we’ll push northwards towards the Alliance.”

“Then what?”

The boy hesitated at Raphael’s question, “I don’t know, didn’t really think that far ahead.” He scratched his head, “I’ll probably keep travelling, but if you have a home to go to…”

“I’ll travel with you.”

Dedue stopped and stared at him, “Huh?”

Raphael smiled, “In truth, I don’t think I’ve got a home to go to anymore, so could I travel with you instead?” He then frowned as a thought occurred to him, “Though, I guess you might not really want to travel with a summoner considering that…”

“It’ll be fine.”

He blinked at the other boy’s answer, “Really?”

Dedue nodded, “Yes, I don’t mind you being a summoner either, in fact I’m glad you are.” He grinned and pulled down the front of his shirt to reveal the mark just below his neck and to the right, “Because I’m a summoner as well.”

Raphael gaped, “Wait, you as well.” It then clicked, “Is that how you could use all those weird spells?”

“Yes.” Dedue held out his hand, “So, shall we travel as friends?”

Raphael beamed and clasped his hand, “Of course.”

They shook hands.

Chapter Text

Harpstring Moon, Imperial Year 1176

Over the months following Raphael’s rescue, he and Dedue had continued to travel through the Empire.

With the Dagda and Brigid War being eventually brought to a close, restoration work began in the east of the Empire. Due to this, they headed that way, instead of towards the Alliance as planned, picking up work through the rebuilding efforts as they travelled. They kept on the move, certain that Lord Essar would be searching for them, however, it came to pass that House Essar was abolished due to political changes within the Empire, relieving their worries about pursuit.

Regardless, they remained careful, never staying in one place too long, and as they travelled, Dedue taught Raphael more about his abilities as a Scion.

“Holra!”

A burst of light ruptured around the upright log, sending it flying into the air, and Raphael grinned and spun to shout to his friend.

“Did you see that! I finally did it!”

From where he was tending to their campfire, Dedue looked up and returned the smile, “Indeed, well done.”

When he’d rescued him, the only spells Raphael could use were ‘Holy’ and ‘Cure’, the mages at the manor had been far more focused on increasing the boy’s pool of magic power, rather than teaching him spells, so while he could cast his spells far more often than others like him, his choice of options was limited.

Alexander granted him Holy magic and some healing magic, so they’d been working on expanding Raphael’s repertoire. Now he could use the three main healing spells, Cure, Cura and Curaga, basic defence spells of Protect and Shell, and finally, Holy and its more advanced form Holra. Fortunately, many of his spells could be passed off as normal faith spells used by priests and bishops, provided no one heard him say their actual names, but they still used them sparingly to be absolutely sure.

Still grinning, Raphael sat down across from him, “Great!” He then frowned, “Though I guess I still have a bit to go before I start casting it reliably.”

“Yes, but I found that once you’ve done it once, it becomes easier to do it again.”

“I’m still catching up to you though.”

Truthfully, Raphael was further behind then Dedue with regards to number of spells available. He now had use of Demi, Grava, Slow, Slowra, Slowraga, Haste, Hastra, Hastaga and had even just achieved Stop, though its effect did not last long. However, Dedue could not cast as many in a row as his friend, Raphael’s magic power pool was very large.

This meant that he thought Raphael was closer in terms development to him than the other boy thought.

“Not really, you can still cast more spells back to back than I can.” Dedue looked thoughtful, “I wonder why that is?”

“Its because of these!” Raphael flexed his muscles and Dedue smiled.

Interestingly enough, Holy magic wasn’t particularly good at harming people, it was very powerful against monsters, but not humans. As such, Raphael had been working on his physical strength alongside his magic, saying that he needed some way of fighting back against human enemies since he couldn’t hurt them much with his spells. Dedue had pointed out that Gravity magic, though powerful, could not land a killing blow, meaning his was limited as well but his friend continued his training.

“Its like you said.” The blonde continued, “The stronger our bodies, the more magic we can store.”

“That was just a theory of those mages.” Dedue reminded him.

“Makes sense though.” Raphael grinned, “I have more magic than you and my muscles are bigger.”

“Still…”

Yes, Raphael had bigger muscles, but Dedue wasn’t that far behind since he’d also been training his physical strength, he believed it was also because the mages had forced the other boy through intensive spellcasting sessions every day.

Dedue let the conversation trail off as he began collecting the tools and ingredients together to start cooking.

The following afternoon found the two of them entering a small town.

Having been travelling the wilder areas for some time, they were relieved to reach civilisation again, and didn’t initially notice the whispers and looks that followed them. They still had a fair bit of money from their last bit of work, so the plan was to simply get more supplies and stay in an inn before moving on.

As they walked the market area, Raphael became aware of the looks they were getting, and he leaned closer to his friend.

“Everyone seems to be staring and whispering about us.”

Dedue frowned, he’d been the subject of such scrutiny before when he first began travelling, a lone child wanderer was very strange after all, but it had happened less over the years. This was because he and Raphael were both tall and big for their age, so they stood out less now they were in their teens, meaning they were less odd to the casual observer. However, they seemed to be attracting a lot of attention.

He casually adjusted his clothes, wondering if his mark was somehow showing, only to find that it was fully concealed as normal. Glancing at Raphael revealed that the one on his shoulder was also safely out of sight.

They continued their shopping (though the merchants seemed comfortable only bartering with Raphael) despite the continued whispers, and eventually found a reasonable inn to spend the night.

The inn doubled as a local tavern, and the two of them sat in the corner of the crowded room as the locals finished off their hard days work with drinking. It was potentially more crowded because they’d heard that a mercenary group were passing through town as well, and there were more than a few armed patrons that night.

Initially, Raphael and Dedue were left alone, but still they were getting strange looks and were surrounded by whispers, though much of it seemed to be focused on Dedue.

Eventually, a loud voice carried over the tavern buzz.

“I don’t know why they let one of you in!”

The declaration came from what looked like a Kingdom merchant, who was staggering drunkenly towards the two boys, waving his tankard around as he spoke loudly.

“Its disgusting, letting murderers like you mingle with us!”

His voice dripped with disgust, and the tavern grew slowly silent.

“Duscur scum!”

He spat at Dedue, missing him, but making his point clear.

Raphael had been watching warily, but at this he stood, ready to move if the man went any further, who took no notice.

“You deserve everything you got, yet you still come here, eat our food, drink our drinks! You don’t have the right to the scraps!”

He was getting closer, spittle flying from his mouth as he vented his scorn, and the tavern owner was already moving his way to intervene.

“You’re nothing but scum, cowardly, murdering scum!!”

He wound up to swing and Raphael moved to stop him as Dedue jumped to defend himself, but neither had to do anything since the man was grabbed and pushed away by a weathered, strongly built man with a shield slung across his back.

“That’s enough.”

The drunk merchant snarled and made as if to attack, but the other man stood firm and scowled, “This isn’t Faerghus and he’s only a boy, the very fact he’s here should tell you that he has nothing to do with what happened.”

The drunk scoffed but the man was unfazed, “Now, I suggest you leave, before you take on what you can’t handle.”

The merchant glowered and looked ready to take a swing, but then glanced around. Dedue noticed others, likely mercenaries, standing tense and ready to act at moments notice, and the merchant must have seen them too. Not so drunk as to lose all self-preservation, the merchant threw his empty tankard aside and staggered out, hurling threats behind him.

“Consider yourself lucky scum! But your reckoning will come, kingslayer!”

Their saviour snorted and turned to the two boys, “Are you kids alright?”

They nodded, “Yes sir.”

Raphael frowned in confusion, “What was that about?”

Dedue shrugged, “Many in Faerghus have hated my people for a long time now.”

The man’s eyes widened in surprise, “You mean, you haven’t heard?”

A feeling of fear creeped into Dedue’s mind, “Heard what?”

Raphael still looked confused, “Yeah, we’ve not been in a settlement for a while…”

The man’s expression became one of pity, “Then there’s a lot you need to know.”

Garland Moon, Imperial Year 1176

It had been many days since the man, Jeralt Eisner, had told them what had happened.

The Tragedy of Duscur.

The assassination of King Lambert and others followed by the subjugation and near destruction of Duscur by Faerghus. The Kingdom effectively attempted to wipe Duscur and its people out, rendering the land nigh on unliveable and dead, the few survivors scattered.

Jeralt had tried to assure him that there were survivors, those who’d been travelling like Dedue, or had luckily escaped the Kingdom armies and fled to the Alliance or Empire, but that meant little.

Dedue had been largely silent and withdrawn in the following days, and the two boys had left town the following day, saying their farewells and thanking Jeralt before they went. Since then, they’d gone off road, wandering the wilds, and Raphael had given his friend space and time, unsure as to how to help.

Dedue sat by the fire late into the night, as he had done many times in the last few days.

Raphael slept nearby, breathing gently and deeply, he’d yet to push anything, respecting Dedue’s silence, but that didn’t make the older boy feel any better.

In truth, he felt…detached…from the whole thing. He’d been exiled long ago, assuming he wouldn’t be returning since he had no family left, but now there was nothing to return to. Shouldn’t he feel more than this?

Duscur was his homeland, the people were his people, shouldn’t he feel more pain, more grief? But then again, most of them were faceless strangers to him, he had no more connection to them than he did to the people in the town they’d left.

He tried to remember those from his home village, but other than some faces, he couldn’t conjure anything else up, he’d pushed them from his memory after he’d left. Probably not surprising since they’d cast him out in the first place, why would he want to remember them.

But the land itself, couldn’t he at least feel for that, it had never been the height of fertility, but to be useless for anything? And what of the act itself, he may not feel personal attachment to the people, but surely he could be angered and saddened by that at least. Attempting genocide for the actions of a few was appalling (Jeralt had not hidden his disgust for the Kingdom’s actions when he spoke to them), wasn’t that alone enough to spark fury?

Dedue sighed.

But it was done already, anger wouldn’t change it, and maybe that was why he felt detached.

He thought of finding other survivors, maybe help them, band with them as they sought a new way of life. They could travel the Alliance and Empire, live out their lives that way…

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

Diablos’ question echoed softly in his mind.

“What do you mean?”

“You are a Scion. What if some of the survivors know this? What if they want your power?”

Dedue knew where the Aeon was going with this, “They’ll want revenge.”

“Exactly, revenge on the Kingdom. While their anger is justified, they’ll likely risk becoming like the Kingdom they despise, willing to slaughter innocents in retribution. Could you imagine what they’d be like if they had access to your power…Raphael’s?”

He could, and that’s what concerned him, “I know. It’s just…”

“I’m not saying ignore them and do nothing, but maintain caution, you and Raphael are two of the most feared and desired type of people on the continent. Those filled with ambition, rage and grief would want Scions on their side.”

“I know.”

Dedue watched as the fire slowly died. They had to be careful, that’s why they travelled, why they ended up where they were now.

He glanced over at the sleeping Raphael.

The church would want them dead; others would want them for their power, and yet others would just irrationally fear them because that’s what they’d been taught.

The fire died.

Dedue sighed and stretched. They would head to the Alliance, maybe find out more about what happened.

He noticed Raphael’s blanket had slipped off, and he carefully replaced it over the younger boy and smiled.

He’d traded Duscur for a brother months ago, and he wasn’t going to let old ties take him away as well.

Chapter Text

Red Wolf Moon, Imperial Year 1176

Raphael and Dedue had gone eastward once more, entering the Alliance from the south to avoid Faerghus and its heavy discrimination against Duscur.

People’s attitudes were mixed, some hated Dedue on sight, others had no problem with him, but most were at least suspicious of him. In the Alliance, things improved. Some still showed open dislike or suspicion, but most seemed more accepting, the common thought being that Faerghus’ treatment of Duscur was too extreme, even if they were wary of Dedue. The greatest suspicions came from members of the church, likely because Duscur’s parthenon of gods was known and the Church of Seiros disliked the thought of them having gods besides the Goddess.

Regardless, they travelled on, but they found no other survivors of Duscur, only stories saying they’d been through and moved on, or rumours that some were in hiding to avoid the Kingdom.

They continued to get by with odd work as they travelled, making a bit of a tour of their journey as they visited Derdriu and wandered the various territories, but things were a bit harder due to monsters, particularly giant wolves, being more active at this time of year.

The wolf snarled and growled, pacing around them carefully.

They’d been off the beaten track a little, and a giant wolf had stalked them and then attacked, seeking food. Raphael and Dedue had been in such a situation once or twice before and dodged quickly and prepared for a fight.

Giant wolves covered ground too quickly for a person to simply flee, you had to beat it back or kill it, hence why mercenaries and hunters were frequently employed to deal with them. Both boys carried a basic sword to deal with combat, but a monster’s hide was too tough for such things to be effective, but they had other tricks.

Dedue slashed the beast’s leg, causing it to snarl and focus on him, meanwhile, Raphael moved away and held up his hand towards it.

“Holra!”

Light ruptured around the wolf causing it to reel back with a howl. Raphael’s magic, while weak against humans, was powerful against monsters, and the beast turned its attention to him.

“Slowra!”

Immediately, the wolf’s movements slowed. Normally, ‘Slow’ would’ve been enough for a single target, but Dedue had found that monsters were so big, ‘Slowra’ was needed to affect a big enough area to slow them down.

With the advantage Dedue had given them, both boys pressed their attack, Dedue slashing the legs and Raphael readying another spell.

“Holra!”

Once again, light struck and the wolf howled, the attacks undoing the slowing spell, it growled and snarled before limping off into the surrounding forest, looking for easier prey. They grinned at each other, savouring their victory, when a sudden shout rang out from behind them.

“LOOK OUT!”

They spun to see another giant wolf bearing down on them, when a horse galloped in front of them, its rider wielding a lance that they drove into the beast’s eye. The wolf snarled and swiped, but the rider skilfully dodged the attack, jabbing quickly with their lance as a swordswoman appeared as if from nowhere and struck from the side.

Back and forth the dance continued, the rider and the swordswoman alternating blows and constantly moving, confusing and enraging the wolf as it twisted and turned, biting and snapping in vain, until the swordswoman lunged and stabbed her blade into the beast’s injured eye, right into its brain. It gave one last roar of pain and fell heavily onto its side, very much dead.

The woman casually pulled her sword from the carcass and looked to the two boys: her face emotionless.

“You used magic?”

She was looking at Raphael, and the boy floundered a little, “Erm…yes...I know a little Faith magic that a monk taught me.”

Apparently, this was all she needed, since she simply nodded and began cleaning her blade, meanwhile, the horse trotted up to them and its rider looked them over.

“Are you kids alright?”

“Captain Jeralt!?”

It was indeed the man who they’d met in the Empire, and Jeralt frowned before recognition dawned, “I remember you two. You’re the kids that were travelling through the Empire.”

Dedue nodded, “Indeed, and thank you for helping us once again.”

Raphael grinned, “Yeah, thanks a lot!”

The mercenary gave a small smile, “Think nothing of it.” He frowned and then made as if to speak, but another warrior came running out of the trees, “Captain Jeralt! We heard the sounds of battle and were about to help.” He grinned, “But you and your daughter have already dealt with it.” He gave a mock glare, “Couldn’t you have at least let us have a shot as well, you’re always getting the glory.”

Jeralt gave a wry smile, “Sorry about that, you just have to learn to move quicker.” He grew more serious, “Now, let’s camp out in the area for a while, we’ve been contracted to deal with the monsters here and at least one giant wolf is still around. We should scout out any others.”

The man nodded, “Of course sir!”

As he ran off back to the rest, Jeralt turned back to the boys, “Why don’t you two come back with us. The wilds around here are not the safest place for two kids.”

Raphael and Dedue glanced at each other uneasily, the woman had clearly seen Raphael’s magic and there was a chance Jeralt had as well, what if he was suspicious of what they were? However, his invite seemed genuine, so maybe they could pass Raphael’s spells off as normal Faith magic.

Coming to silent agreement, Dedue nodded at Jeralt, “Thank you.”

The rest of the mercenary group weren’t far, and they arrived to find them in the early stages of setting up camp.

The boys received little more than passing glances as they followed Jeralt and the swordswoman, whom the captain had introduced as his daughter, Byleth, and they soon came to a large tent, already up, that seemed to serve as Jeralt’s.

Entering, they found it already prepared for use, the mercenaries clearly worked fast. Byleth placed the pack she’d been carrying to one side and made as if to leave but her father stopped, “Wait a moment Byleth, there’s something we need to clear up first.”

Not even a flicker of surprise crossed her face as she stopped and waited, Jeralt gestured for them all to sit and poured out water for them all, handing it out before he spoke.

“Now, I’ll be blunt.” He looked pointedly at them both, “You’re summoners, aren’t you?”

Panic flashed across both their faces, and Dedue quickly opened his mouth to give an excuse, but the captain halted him, “Look, I saw enough of your fight, you”, he pointed at Dedue, “you used a spell I’ve never seen before, and you”, he pointed to Raphael, “your magic was definitely not Faith magic, I’ve seen more than enough of that branch in my lifetime to know the difference.”

He smiled reassuringly, “Look, I’m not about to declare you kids the spawn of evil and turn you in for execution, in honesty, the church’s condemnation of summoners was always an issue for me. I just want to remind you to be careful, even in the wilds people could be watching. You’re just lucky it was only me and my daughter that caught you this time.”

“I assume you don’t want me mentioning this to the rest of the company.” Byleth stated.

“Yes.” Jeralt answered, “While most of our company are indifferent to the church, they might still react dangerously, even if they don’t, the less people who know the better, you know how mercenary tongues loosen up when drinking.”

She simply nodded.

The captain returned his focus to the two, still nervous boys, “Anyway, I can assure you that neither I nor my daughter will give out your secret, but I still have an offer for you.” He gave each of them an appraising look before continuing.

“How would you feel about joining my mercenary company?”

Raphael blinked in surprise and Dedue was equally stunned.

Seeming to understand their surprise, Jeralt explained further, “As I said earlier, I saw you two fight that wolf, and seeing a monster off by yourselves, magic or no magic, is impressive, not to mention travelling and surviving under your own steam at your age. I think you could both benefit from professional training and mercenary work gives you a bit more security than simply taking what comes.”

He smiled, “Of course, I’ll make it clear now that we’ll keep your abilities secret even if you say no, I have no desire to coerce anyone.”

Silence reigned for a short while, and Raphael and Dedue stared at each other, wondering how best to answer. Eventually, Jeralt spoke once more, “Anyway, there’s no need to answer right now. Take your time and speak to the company and think about it, they’ll happily give you some pointers and training regardless. You can give me your decision tomorrow.”

That night, Dedue and Raphael lay in their own small tent, discussing Jeralt’s offer.

“What do you think?”

Dedue considered Raphael’s question, “I’m not sure, the slightly steadier pay would be good, and we’d still be constantly on the move, which we’ve been trying to do.”

“But we’d be around the same people constantly, wouldn’t that make it harder to keep our Aeons secret?”

“Maybe, but I think Jeralt has already considered that, and as long as we’re careful, we should be alright.”

“Well, Alexander seems to be up for it.”

Dedue blinked, “Is he?”

Raphael nodded, “Yeah, I think he considers mercenary work an okay compromise between continuing to travel but have some sort of stability. I mean, remaining anonymous is all well and good but we haven’t exactly got a plan for the future.”

Dedue couldn’t deny that, they were basically just wandering aimlessly, training to be mercenaries wasn’t exactly an earth-shaking goal, but it was some sort of plan.

“I agree.” Diablos stated, “This Jeralt is on your side, and considering how much everyone fears Scions, that is a miracle in and of itself. I believe joining the company is best, even just to keep you safer from bigots who hate you because you’re from Duscur.”

Dedue smiled, “Well, Diablos seems to agree, and he says having an ally is impressive considering everything else.”

Raphael smiled back, “So, we’re joining then?”

“Yes, yes we are.”

Chapter Text

Great Tree Moon, Imperial Year 1178

Having spent over a year in Jeralt’s mercenary company, Raphael and Dedue were now established members, though their age kept them more as trainees than anything else.

With Raphael only just about to hit sixteen, and Dedue being sixteen going on seventeen, Jeralt didn’t want to make them full-time fighters just yet. It seemed foolish since his own daughter had been fighting full-time even when she’d been younger than the boys were now, but Byleth was born into the mercenary life and had taken to it with astonishing ease. Raphael and Dedue were still learning basics.

After they’d initially joined, Jeralt himself had taken on their training, but it soon became clear that they’re strengths lay outside his.

He was a horse riding, lance wielder, and that wasn’t going to work for them. While they could put a decent amount of strength and competence behind a lance, their abilities with a horse were quite bad, mounted units they were not, nor ever going to be. Instead he let them try out several fighting styles and they found that Dedue took to the axe, and would likely prove useful with heavy armour, and that Rapheal, while also great with an axe, had a slightly greater tendency towards brawling.

As such, he passed their training onto others in the company who excelled at those particular skills.

In terms of the boys themselves, Jeralt didn’t regret his offer, both worked hard and well, and put full effort into the tasks or jobs they were given. Yes, Raphael somehow consumed at least double the amount of food as anyone else, but he did seem to genuinely need that amount and his work output made the expenditure worth it.

He smiled slightly as he watched the two boys run over sword drills with Byleth. While they had their specialties, Jeralt was a firm believer in having a well-rounded knowledge and experience of all combat styles, hence why Byleth had a solid understanding of all weapons and could competently use any of them if she really needed to, though the sword clearly remained her best. As such, he ensured that all under his command had basic skills in at least one other weapon type.

As he watched Byleth critique Raphael’s technique, his smile grew a little, she may show very little emotion, but his daughter certainly seemed to have a knack for teaching. Perhaps the lack of emotion meant that people understood she wasn’t trying to belittle or embarrass them, just correct them.

His second-in-command quietly joined him.

“Keeping an eye on your kids?”

Jeralt gave him a look, “Only one of them is mine.”

The man simply folded his arms, “Really Captain? The way you dote on them says otherwise.”

“I don’t ‘dote’ on them.”

“No, but the Brothers are definitely your favourites.”

The ‘Brothers’, a name for the two boys that had partly started as a joke, considering their closeness to each other. Naturally, the name had eventually stuck and basically everyone in the company referred to the duo in that way, especially since they were mostly assigned to different parties as a pair.

Jeralt was about to protest but gave up. Yes, he would admit that Raphael and Dedue were his favourites (barring Byleth, obviously), but the rest of the company had joined as adults, the two boys had been the first kids that had joined them (again, excluding Byleth), they’d needed more attention than most.

His second used his silence to press his argument, “You’re also more protective of them than the rest of us.”

At this, Jeralt snorted, “Maybe, but I’m definitely not the only one.”

Of that, he was certain. He’d seen his company surreptitiously move around Dedue if there were signs of aggression from the populace due to his heritage, keep a far closer eye on them during combat than they needed to and even openly defend them from the few fools that acted on their bigotry towards Duscur.

The other man shrugged, “Maybe, but they’re still your kids.”

Jeralt gave him another look, but didn’t argue further, “Anyway, what are you actually here to talk about?”

His second became more serious, “We’ve received a request from Count Gloucester, apparently he wishes to hire us to aid with the increase of bandits in his territory.”

Jeralt nodded, “I see.” He considered it for a moment, “Well, it shouldn’t be anything we can’t handle, and we’ve just finished up with our current job. Send word to him that we’ll take his offer.”

“Yes Captain.”

As the man strode away, Jeralt looked once more at the boys and smiled as they sparred with Byleth.

His kids were learning fast…

No! They were not his kids, only Byleth was his child and that was final!

He glanced at them again, smiling even more as Dedue and Raphael childishly pulled faces at Byleth when she beat them again and then sighed.

Oh, who was he kidding.

Guardian Moon, Imperial Year 1179

Jeralt breathed in the cold, crisp air.

Snow lay around their camp, blanketing it in white and silver, but he’d seen more winters than he could count, and it bothered him very little these days. His mercenaries were equally unconcerned, they’d travelled and fought in such conditions before, and they went about their tasks as normal.

The captain’s keen eyes noticed the lack of two boys in the vicinity, and he frowned briefly, then dismissed his surge of concern.

They were nearly men these days, and well-trained as well, they could handle themselves. The company had just finished a job and he’d granted his mercenaries a day of rest a recuperation before marching on, Raphael and Dedue had likely gone off somewhere quieter to practise their magic in secret.

True to his word, he and Byleth had kept their silence on the boys summoning abilities, even learning more about how their powers worked over the last couple of years. Practicing their spells was difficult when they were constantly in the company of others, so he’d arranged things to allow them to train their natural abilities.

He had to admit that they were impressive, though the limitations were unusual, what with Dedue’s aggressive spells being unable to deal a killing blow, and Raphael’s being far less effective against people. He’d seen Diablos and Alexander themselves once, and he was both impressed and slightly scared.

He’d started to understand why the church feared summoners (or Scions, as Dedue called them). The power of an unseen, unheard goddess started to look less impressive next to the visible, clearly powerful titans that were Eidolons. Who’d waste time praying in front of statues when they knew someone who could summon a near literal living fortress, or slow down time, of course the church was scared of them.

It also made Jeralt wonder why the claimed to be loving goddess would condemn Scions. Their powers weren’t something they claimed or stole, they just had them, and it wasn’t like Raphael or Dedue had some ingrained desire to conquer and destroy.

He snorted at the thought.

Raphael was far too nice to anyone that wasn’t an obvious threat, give him unlimited power and he’d probably use it to give everyone food or puppies or something. Jeralt doubted the boy would abuse power since everyone was a potential friend to him unless proven otherwise. As for Dedue, he just seemed content with living his life, and while he wasn’t as open and friendly as Raphael, he saw no need to condemn anyone until they did something wrong.

Surely it made more sense for the goddess to teach Scions to use their powers wisely rather than flat out branding them as evil?

He sighed, he’d pondered it many times and still hadn’t come to a definitive answer, and he doubted he would right now.

Instead, he strode off through the camp towards their training area, Byleth was likely there practicing, and a friendly spar would be just the thing, he hadn’t sparred with his daughter for awhile because of their work.

As he walked, he sensed something off.

He was a father, and he’d been training young knights and squires years before that, he had a sixth sense for mischief. He couldn’t see them, but he was certain that a certain pair of absent boys were about to spring something on him…

FLUMPH!

With a soft sound, a snowball impacted on his back and he turned to see Raphael grinning from ear to ear, and the clear culprit of the assault. Another snowball hit him, and he saw that Dedue had circled around to get him from the side.

He stared for a moment at the smirking teens, raised an eyebrow…then swiftly ducked down, scooped up some snow, made it into a ball and launched the projectile at t Raphael, scoring a hit directly in the boy’s face.

The war was on!

The boys retaliated swiftly, managing to score several hits as Jeralt gathered ammunition, but soon he was returning fire with prejudice and accuracy. Raphael and Dedue attempted a pincer movement, but Jeralt was experienced and outmanoeuvred them both, striking hard and fast with his snowballs.

But they were merely a distraction.

He surged forward, heading straight for Raphael and near tackling him, getting him into a headlock. The boy may have a lot of muscle, but Jeralt was certainly no weakling.

“Cease fire Dedue, I have a hostage!”

Playing along, Raphael bravely called out to his compatriot, “Don’t do it, don’t surrender!”

Grinning wickedly, Dedue simply continued launching snowballs, taking advantage of the fact that the captain could not return fire while holding his friend.

With Jeralt distracted by the pelting, Raphael managed to trip him up and the captain found himself tumbling backwards. Before he could recover, Dedue pounced and he found himself wrestling with both boys at once, and strong as he was, he could not contend with both of them.

Soon, he was pinned to the ground, Raphael and Dedue sitting victoriously on top of him. They grinned at each other and fist bumped in celebration.

“Okay boys, get off!”

Obediently, they removed themselves and let the smiling Jeralt up, who jokingly shook his head at them, “Honestly, assaulting your commander, that’s worthy of serious punishment you know.”

Knowing he wasn’t being serious, they looked completely unrepentant and he waved a finger at them warningly.

“There will be revenge for this boys, mark my words.” He cracked his knuckles, grinning as he did so, “You’d better start running.”

Laughing, they sprinted off, likely to cause some more mischief elsewhere, but he didn’t follow, merely shaking his head fondly and turning away. He came face to face with Byleth, who’d clearly been watching the whole thing, not that he was bothered (most of the company had likely been watching it), but there was something in her gaze.

She wasn’t smiling, on the surface her face was as expressionless as ever, but there was definitely something like amusement in her eyes. She nodded after the boys’ retreating backs.

“They’re good kids.”

Jeralt simply nodded in reply but his smile grew a little at his daughter’s statement.

Seemed they’d wormed their way into her heart as well.

Chapter Text

Great Tree Moon, Imperial Year 1180

It was still dark out but Dedue and Raphael were already up and about.

Jeralt had informed the group that they were leaving Remire village early that day, so they were just about ready to go when the three strangers approached.

They were an odd trio, wearing some sort of uniform with each person having a different coloured cape, the blonde and dark haired boys with blue and yellow respectively, and the white-haired girl with red. They had to be about their age, and each one was armed, and they were sure they were bringing trouble.

Dedue swiftly turned and headed off to get Jeralt, leaving Raphael to meet the teens along with other members of the company, and he found him in the hut he’d been lent for their stay.

“Captain Jeralt!”

The man turned away from Byleth and Dedue continued.

“There’s three teenagers in some form of uniform approaching the village, I think they want to speak with us.”

Jeralt sighed, “Now what?”

He strode out, Byleth and Dedue close behind, and soon reached their visitors.

“What are three kids like yourselves doing out here?”

The blonde boy bowed politely, “I apologise for our sudden intrusion, we were ambushed by bandits while at camp and have been separated from our companions. We were hoping to ask for your aid in defeating them.”

The other boy chimed in, “They’re after our lives, not to mention our gold.”

Jeralt appraised them, “Well, I have to say you’re staying very calm about this…wait…that uniform…!”

“Sir!” A member of the company sprinted up, “A group of bandits has been sighted near the village outskirts!”

The girl gripped the handle of her axe tighter, “Those will be the same ones that attacked us.”

Jeralt sighed, “And they followed you right here.” He quickly gave commands to the messenger, “Tell the company to move to defend the village, we cannot let them attack this place.”

The man nodded and rushed off, as the blonde boy spoke up, “Please, let us assist you. we couldn’t handle the whole group by ourselves, but we have been trained in combat.”

The captain gave them a quick glance and nodded, “Fine.” He looked to Byleth, “Take the Brothers and lead these kids, I’ll be right behind you.”

With a simple nod, Byleth signalled her understanding.

Truthfully, the fight wasn’t proving particularly difficult.

The group that came at them was relatively small, most of the bandits likely occupied with the rest of the company and weren’t particularly well-trained either.

Dedue easily blocked a blow with his shield (while he didn’t have the full armour yet, he did have a large shield), and struck back with his axe, wounding the bandit in front of him. Nearby, Raphael beat down another with his gauntlets as an arrow from their new ally wounded another. Next to him, the blue-caped boy struck out fiercely with a lance, while the girl swung an axe of her own, neither of them showing much in the way of mercy. Byleth was ahead, skilfully disarming, wounding and killing their foes in her usual, emotionless way, each move efficient and with purpose.

So far, things were going well, but then the girl overstretched herself.

It was a lucky shot on the bandit’s part, the girl had just overswung her axe slightly, loosening her grip and letting her opponent disarm her, almost by accident, causing her weapon to spin away from her and out of reach. She delivered a swift kick, winding her assailant and backing off, but the bandit leader had spotted her position.

Leaping up from where Raphael had floored him earlier, the man charged right at her, axe held aloft. Before anyone could react, Byleth was there, in front of the girl and ready. She countered the blow and sent the bandit leader reeling back, causing the rest to turn tail and run, their leader scrabbling after them in an undignified retreat.

Jeralt, who’d been dealing with bandits further away, rode up and gave his daughter an odd look, “Did you just…?”

“The Knights of Serios are here!”

A sudden shout announced the arrival of several soldiers in armour, and as their apparent commander gave commands to his men, Jeralt groaned.

“Why did it have to be him?”

“Him?”

Raphael looked at the captain in confusion, and the man merely shook his head, “You’ll see.”

The newcomer rushed up, “Captain Jeralt! Its been years since I last saw you.”

“Good to see you Alois.” Jeralt responded, “And enough of that ‘Captain’ nonsense, I’m not your captain now.”

Seemingly unabashed, Alois carried on, “You’ll always be a captain to me.” He addressed Byleth, “And you must be the captain’s child.”

She inclined her head politely, “I am.”

He grinned, “Yes, you have the look of the captain about you.” His gaze fell on Raphael, “Ah, and you must also be one of the captain’s children as well.”

The boy blushed and rubbed the back of his head, “Actually, I’m not. Me and Dedue joined his company a few years ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just saw you and assumed…”

“Anyway,” Jeralt interrupted, “I’m guessing you’re here for these three.”

He gestured at the three teens, and Alois smiled, “Of course, and I should thank you for assisting them.”

“Don’t mention it.” He glanced briefly at Byleth, “Anyway, we should be on our way, it was good to see you Alois, and goodbye.”

“Yes, goodbye Captain.” The knight then shook his head, “Wait, I absolutely cannot let this end here, I insist that you accompany me back to Garreg Mach Monastery. Before you try and disappear all over again.”

Jeralt sighed, “Don’t worry, not even I would try and run from the Knights of Seiros. Just let me organise things with my company first.”

“Of course, Captain, I need to organise the knights as well.”

With that, Alois strode off and Jeralt gave Raphael and Dedue a meaningful look, and they followed him away from Byleth and the other teens. Once they were a good distance away, he turned to them both.

“Right, I think you two know this but still. Garreg Mach is the centre of the church, which is very dangerous for you both. If I could, I’d let you two sneak away now but Alois has seen you, it’ll look suspicious if you both disappear before we get there, and I think I’ll end up staying there long-term.”

Dedue frowned, “So what do we do?”

“For now, be very careful. Fortunately, the church isn’t exactly on an active hunt for Scions such as yourselves, as long as you keep your marks and magic secret, they’ll think you no different from anyone else. After a few days, you should be able to leave and be on your way, even if I end up stuck there, so, as I’ve said, be careful.”

Raphael bit his lip worriedly but nodded.

“Okay.”

“So, how’d you two end up being called ‘the Brothers’?”

They were marching to Garreg Mach, with Jeralt and his mercenaries mingling with the knights, while Byleth, Dedue and Raphael were walking with the three students, introduced as Dimitri, Claude and Edelgard.

Raphael glanced at Claude and the young lord shrugged, “Well, I’m curious. I mean, you two are clearly not actually related so why did Captain Jeralt call you ‘the Brothers’?”

Raphael smiled, “It started as a joke, me and Dedue joined the company together and the others joked about us acting like brothers, so the name just stuck in the end.”

“I’m curious as to how you ended up as mercenaries, you had to have joined as children.”

The two boys shared a brief look before Dedue took up the explanation, “Both of us…lost our families several years ago. We ended up travelling together until we met Captain Jeralt, he offered us a place in his company and gave us training and a wage.”

“In exchange for sending you into battle.” Edelgard put in.

“Actually, it’s only recently we’ve been taking a more active part in combat.” Raphael explained, “We’ve been trainees for a good part of our time with the company, and rarely out on the battlefield properly. We barely knew combat basics when we started.”

“I see.” She looked ahead, “There it is, Garreg Mach.”

Dedue and Raphael were on high alert as they were led through the large corridors and vast halls of the monastery.

This was the centre of the religion that condemned them, and neither of them could help but be on their guard, especially since they were about to meet the head of the entire organisation, Archbishop Rhea.

Unsurprisingly, she’d wanted to meet Jeralt and Byleth when they arrived, but she’d also requested that Raphael and Dedue join them, making them very worried.

Alexander spoke quietly in Raphael’s head as they approached the large doors that led to the audience chamber, “Be on your guard young one, don’t fear using my power if you need to. Hopefully, she just wants to see you because she thinks your Jeralt’s son they way that Alois did, but keep your eyes open.”

The doors swung open and they were led inside the empty room, their escort retreated, leaving them stood there waiting for the Archbishop’s arrival. Soon, the Archbishop herself regally entered the room, projecting an aura of calm all around her, but Alexander wasn’t convinced, “There’s something different about her, something…inhuman.”

Raphael didn’t respond, but he sensed what his Aeon meant, there was some strange power coming off her, but he focused as she addressed Jeralt.

“Jeralt, it is good to see you once again return to us.”

He responded formally, “Lady Rhea, forgive my silence all this time, I know it has been many years.”

She smiled, as if in understanding, “And it seems as if the Goddess has blessed you with three children over the years.”

Jeralt coughed awkwardly, “Actually, only Byleth is my child. Dedue and Raphael joined my company a few years ago.”

“Perhaps by blood.” She answered, “But it is clear that these two boys are strongly connected to you.”

The two boys in question glanced at each other, apparently their presence was asked for because the Archbishop saw them as Jeralt’s adopted sons.

She paused for a moment, before speaking again, “Jeralt, I’m sure you’re aware of what I’m going to ask.”

He sighed, “You want me to re-join the Knights of Seiros, I won’t say no but…”

“Your hesitation surprises me. You were one of our most celebrated knights.” She looked at the two boys, “Of course, I won’t force you to abandon your two charges. I wish to offer them a place at the Officers Academy, since my request will mean changes for them. Naturally, I will count your services as a knight as a suitable replacement for the usual payment required.”

“That’s…very generous, but I believe they are old enough to make the decision for themselves.”

At Jeralt’s statement, Rhea looked at them expectantly.

That evening, Raphael was sat in his new dormitory room, questioning Alexander.

“Why did you encourage me to stay, this is the most dangerous place in the world for us!?”

“Firstly, I don’t think the Archbishop was going to take no for an answer and refusing her offer would’ve looked far more suspicious. Secondly, this is a prime opportunity.”

“For what?”

“Haven’t you ever wondered why the church condemns Scions so? What their reasoning is? Have they ever given a reason beyond ‘Summoners are evil!’?”

Raphael frowned, “Actually, no, they’ve only ever said that that they are enemies of the Goddess.”

“Exactly, the reason for their stance is unknown, in fact there is very little known about the history of Scions. It’s not like anyone is teaching it to people.”

“And you think there might be more information here?”

“If it exists, this is the most likely place. They may condemn them, but you can be certain the church will keep information about Scions, ‘know your enemy’ and all that.”

The door swung open, and Dedue, walked in, tugging at the collar of his new uniform.

While the Officers Academy had uniforms in their size, Raphael had a good deal more muscle mass than most students, so while Dedue’s fitted him almost perfectly, Raphael could barely get his shirt on and the jacket was a lost cause. Thankfully, it seemed there was a fair bit of leeway in the dress code, so he could probably get away with it.

The older boy shut the door and spoke quietly, “Did Alexander explain why he wanted us to accept the Archbishop’s offer?”

Raphael nodded, “Yeah, he thinks this is a good place to find out more about Scions, and why the church hates them so much.”

“That was Diablos’ reasoning as well.” Dedue frowned, “And they have a point. The church never really explains why Scions are supposed to be evil.”

“Weren’t Scions also condemned in Duscur?”

“Not to the same extremes.” Dedue answered, “We would’ve been under intense suspicion and be unwelcome in most places, but it wasn’t an absolute death sentence.” He paced a little, “According to legend, Scions used to be revered, but some become corrupted by their power, and the resulting war between different Scions nearly destroyed Duscur. That’s why my people didn’t trust them, though I don’t know when this war was supposed to have happened.”

“Maybe the same war led to the church condemning them as well.” Raphael mused, “Though I don’t recall ever learning about such a war, the church always seems to go on about the Ten Elites and the war with the King of Liberation.”

Dedue smiled, “It seems that there is a lot we don’t know.”

They remained in silence for a while, considering what they didn’t know and could maybe learn in the coming days, until Raphael finally spoke.

“What house are we going into?”

Dedue shrugged, “I don’t know. Usually, they put students into a house based on their country, but we don’t really have a home country. Apparently, we’ll just be placed in the house that Byleth will be in charge of.”

Raphael smiled, “It’s weird, I never thought of Byleth being a teacher, but now I can’t help but picture it now she’s going to be a professor.”

The older boy also grinned, “Indeed, I’m actually looking forward to seeing how the other students will react to her teaching style.”

The younger boy winced, “Most of the nobles probably won’t be used to her bluntness.”

While knowledgeable and fair, Byleth was not delicate in her criticisms, if you were doing something wrong, she’d tell you straight out. However, she didn’t avoid giving praise either, you did something right, she’d also tell you that straight out.

Raphael and Dedue had flourished under her tutelage, but other students might not take to it so much.

Dedue chuckled at the thought, “No, I think a lot of them won’t like it to begin with.” He sighed, “Anyway, we should probably turn in for the night. We’ll find out what house we’re in and meet our classmates tomorrow.”

The younger boy nodded in response, and Dedue left to return to his own room. Raphael pulled Skipper out of his bag.

He’d never fully shaken the habit of sleeping with the toy otter, while he could and would sleep just fine without it, he still felt far more comfortable sleeping with it. In all honesty, a dark room reminded him just a little too much of his time spent imprisoned in that lonley house, with no idea of when or if he’d ever leave it. Skipper had been a source of comfort then, and remained one now, in this room surrounded by people who’d kill him if they ever knew the power he had.  

Chapter Text

Great Tree Moon, Imperial Year 1180

Dedue rose early the following morning, heading out to explore the monastery.

They’d pretty much gone straight to their meeting with the Archbishop then been taken on a swift tour of the main locations within the grounds by Professor Manuela, namely dining hall, classrooms and their own rooms. As such he wasn’t that accustomed to where everything was, and it was a big place to find your way around. Apparently, it was something of a day off for all the students and professors, due to the shake-up of Byleth’s appointment and what happened the day before, so he decided to make use of the time by finding his way around, meeting his fellow students and taking a look at the library.

He came to Raphael’s room and walked straight in, years of sharing tents and rooms making having separate quarters rather novel to them. Unsurprisingly, the younger boy was still in bed, and Dedue strode over and poked him.

“Raph, its morning.”

Raphael grunted, yawned, then sat up to stretch and respond sleepily.

“Okay.”

As he came to full wakefulness, Dedue opened up the cupboards and casually tossed clothes for the day at him. Without looking, the boy caught them and started to dress fully into the uniform he was given the day before. As expected, the shirt only just fitted, forcing him to keep it in check with braces and a wide belt, Dedue was initially going get him to try the jacket as well, but one look at the shirt buttons nearly popping off made him decide it wasn’t worth it.

Once ready, Raphael grinned and headed for the door.

“Time to eat!”

Dedue gave a knowing smile, “I assume you know how to get to the dining hall then?”

The younger boy smiled back, “Yeah!”

The older of the two shook his head fondly, he was willing to bet that despite only arriving yesterday, Raphael could probably find his way to the dining hall from anywhere in the monastery on instinct alone.

They stepped out into the morning sunshine, and Raphael led the way to the dining hall. As they strolled, they kept an eye out for any other students, but only saw monks, knights and a few visitors to the monastery. They did however receive several curious, and sometimes suspicious, looks, but such a thing was barely new to them and no one attempted to stop or speak to them.

Soon, they stepped into the large dining hall where breakfast was already underway, and they spotted the uniform of the academy scattered about the tables. Once again, they were the subject of scrutiny as they entered, though Dedue spotted a couple of servers diving into the kitchen upon Raphael’s arrival to emerge with considerably more food, and he suppressed a grin. No doubt Captain Jeralt had forewarned them about the boy’s vast appetite.

They joined the queue waiting to be served and watched the people around them, Diablos commentating in Dedue’s head as they did so, “Wow, there’s so much Faith magic about I can basically taste it. Seriously, how many bishops and monks do they need?”

“It is a monastery for the church.” The boy thought back, “Is it really surprising there’s a lot of them?”

“Not really, but there does seem to be far more Faith wielders than those that practice Reason magic. Its odd that there’s enough of them to make their presence this notable, not to mention the number of soldiers the church has. Why does a religious organisation need an army anyway, and why are they training future nobles?”

“The church does seem to wield an unusual amount of power over Fόdlan…”

“Dedue?”

He was pulled from his discussion by Raphael’s voice, and focused on the younger boy, who nodded towards the rest of the room, “I don’t think she likes you very much.”

Following his gaze, he saw the blonde student glowering at him in suspicion. He looked back to his surrogate brother and shrugged, “I’m guessing she’s a member of the Blue Lion house, they all hail from Faerghus and will have spent the last few years being taught that those from Duscur are the spawn of evil.”

“Seriously?”

“Though we were allied, that mostly was only between the ruling families of each nation.” He explained, “The majority of people in Faerghus still held prejudices against my people, not that everyone in Duscur was blameless in that regard themselves. The tragedy only inflamed the hatred that already existed, so many wouldn’t have questioned that view.”

Raphael sighed, “And they’re still holding onto it.” He gave Dedue a worried look, “Here’s hoping Byleth doesn’t choose the Blue Lion house.”

They soon collected their food and found a place to sit.

They chose the table with the most students, but sat a seat or two away from them, close enough to take part in conversation, but far enough away to not engage if required. However, Claude almost immediately waltzed right up to them and sat down, an easy smile on his face.

“So, Seteth told me that Byleth is going to teach and whichever house she picks gets you two as well.” He winked, “Here’s hoping she goes for the Golden Deer.”

“Claude, must you so brazenly bother others. It is not befitting of nobility to simply engage with others in such an improper manner.”

This was said by a young man wearing a flashy rose and sporting a weird haircut. He gave Claude a disdainful look, who simply leaned back casually, “And no one is ‘more noble’ than you Lorenz.”

Lorenz gave a dignified sniff and cordially inclined his head at them, “Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, at your service. No doubt you have heard of my family.”

Raphael frowned, “Um…not really…”

“What!” The boy’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline, “My family is a key member of the ruling body of the Alliance!”

Dedue glanced at Raphael, “Actually, you have heard of the Gloucester family. Remember that bandit routing job the company took on a couple of years ago?”

The younger boy thought for a moment, “You mean the one where the bandits tried to hold me hostage at one point and the company beat them senseless?”

Dedue nodded, “Yes, that job was given to Captain Jeralt by Count Gloucester.”

There was a pause, then Raphael’s eyes lit up in recognition, “Oh yeah! I remember now! He tried to get half the company to serve him as knights afterwards.”

Lorenz coughed, “Anyway, Count Gloucester is my father, so I’ll be taking his place…OOF!”

He was roughly pushed aside by a short-haired girl.

“Did you say Captain Jeralt!”

Claude, clearly amused at Lorenz who was now sprawled across the floor, introduced her, “This is Leonie Pinelli, she’s actually only here because of your dad, Jeralt.”

Dedue, spluttered at that, “He’s not actually our father.”

The young lord grinned, “Really, because I heard Rhea wanted you two in the academy because you were Jeralt’s adopted kids.”

Leonie leaned forward eagerly, “Really, the captain adopted you two?”

“Well…no.” Dedue protested, “I mean, he asked as to join his company when we crossed paths a few years ago, but that’s all! He didn’t adopt us!”

“There you both are.”

An official voice came from behind them, and all eyes fell upon Seteth, who was looking down at Raphael and Dedue.

“I was looking for you both to inform you that you’ve now been officially added to the academy role.” The man folded his hands behind your back, “That being said, when we were sorting out the paperwork, we had no surnames for either of you, since Captain Jeralt was unaware of what your family names were. As such, you’ve been registered using his name, so you are both down as Eisner, if you wish to change it, please come and see me in my office. Good day.”

With a formal nod, he departed with a swish of his cape, and Raphael and Dedue simply looked at each other before looking at Claude, who gave them a smug smile.

“So, not adopted by Captain Jeralt huh?”

It was some time before they escaped the dining hall.

Leonie was eager to speak to them about their time under Jeralt, whom she’d apparently met several years ago and received some training from him, and she wanted to know everything. Claude, meanwhile, was more interested in Byleth, wanting to know what kind of person she was and how she’d likely teach. In return, he happily told them how the academy worked.

There were three houses of students, that much they already knew, but each house had a lead professor, with Manuela, Hanneman and (as of today) Byleth, taking one each. Teaching, however, was shared, with different professors taking different specialties. Professor Manuela primarily taught Faith magic and medicine, Professor Hanneman mostly taught Reason magic and combat history, and Byleth was going to be in charge of tactics and the theory of normal weaponry. There were also other professors, such as Professor Jeritza who was in charge of practical training and combat, as well as people such as Seteth who would also hold seminars and give lessons on other subjects when their duties allowed.

One of the main tasks of the House Professors was to speak with their students and assign them to classes based on what they wanted or needed to learn. For example, there was no point sending a student who was going down the path of an armoured knight to practical lessons in magic. Some theory lessons and demonstrations were mandatory (even if you were never going to use magic, knowing what the activation of a spell looked like was useful for not getting a fireball to the face in battle) but you only had to attend the lessons decided on with your House Professor. Of course, no one would stop you from attending lessons on other subjects beyond your specialties if you wished, the professors were not going to turn away those eager to learn.

In essence, there was a good bit of leeway for change and personalisation in what you learned. Of course there were always going to be set goals for each student, and apparently each house would receive a mission each month that had to be completed by the end of the month, acting as something of a monthly exam for the class, on top of any additional mock battles or mission the House Professor may decide to do.

By the time they’d run over all of this and satisfied both Claude and Leonie’s thirst for knowledge about Byleth and Jeralt respectively, morning was well on its way to noon.

They set off around the monastery, exploring its vast grounds and finding the fishing pond and greenhouse first. Dedue was swiftly distracted by the examples of Duscur flora he found there, striking up a conversation with the greenhouse keeper who’d tried to salvage as many of the plants as she could. She hoped to one day reintroduce them to Duscur and said he was welcome to use the greenhouse and tend to them anytime he liked.

From there, they headed up alongside the dormitories and located the sauna, slightly taken aback by the presence of a sauna in a monastery, they didn’t investigate any further, instead choosing to carry on into the training grounds.

They were basically a courtyard that had been set aside for training for the academy, but there were plenty of training weapons and dummies about, as well as a large group of students.

The blonde girl from the dining hall was there, and she gave them a dirty look before resuming her practice with a lance. A red-haired boy was trying to flirt with her, with little success, while another pair of students practiced archery to one side. The centre was taken up by Dimitri and another, severe looking, boy who were in the middle of a spar, Dimitri wielding a lance against the boy’s sword.

The blonde boy noticed them and halted the spar.

“Dedue, Raphael, welcome. I’d heard you two were joining the academy.”

The red-haired boy approached them, “Hey, aren’t you two the ones who helped Dimitri out with those bandits?” He gave a friendly smile, “Sylvain Jose Gautier, and thanks for digging him out of that hole he dug himself into.” He winked at Raphael, “And I bet you get loads of girls fighting over those muscles.”

“Uh…?”

“Sylvain!”

The blonde girl glowered at Sylvain, who held up his hands defensively, “C’mon Ingrid.”

They devolved into an argument as the severe looking boy stared at them appraisingly, “The boar kept talking about how impressive you were in battle, I wish to see your prowess for myself.”

Dedue looked him up and down, “And you are?”

“Felix Hugo Fraldarius.”

Dimitri smiled at them, “While Felix is as straight to the point as ever, I would much like to spar against you both myself. The way you both fought yesterday was impressive.”

“And you want to spar now?” Raphael looked to Dedue, “What do you think.”

The older boy nodded, “I see no reason why not, we have yet to train today.”

“Wonderful.” The prince looked between them all, “How about Felix and I take you both on as a team.” He glanced at Felix, “Provided you don’t mind.”

The other boy considered for a moment, “Fine.”

Sides agreed, Dedue and Raphael located suitable training weapons and stood facing their opponents. The four combatants readied their stances as the surrounding students gathered to watch, each side gauged the other, assessing the opposition until Sylvain started the fight.

“Begin!”

Immediately, Dimitri charged forward, using the same head-on tactics he’d employed against the bandits, aiming for Dedue. Taking the attack upon his shield, Dedue pushed back, but found the lord to be unusually strong, so he swiftly swung it outward, unbalancing the other boy as his lance was shoved aside. Dedue attempted to take the opportunity to land a hit, but Dimitri had recovered swiftly, and deflected with his lance haft before attacking once more, forcing Dedue to block.

Meanwhile, Felix had moved for Raphael, but while there was a lot of brute force in Dimitri’s techniques, Felix employed far more speed with a fencer’s precision, putting Raphael on the defensive. Gauntlets couldn’t block as well as other weapons, so he had to rely more on dodging and ducking, but Felix moved so quickly he was hard pushed to achieve even that, never mind hit back.

However, they had one distinct advantage.

While Dimitri had the power to overwhelm Dedue, and Felix was far more agile and quicker than Raphael, they were fighting independently, whereas Dedue and Raphael had long since turned fighting as a pair into second nature. So, even as they were seemingly pushed back, both boys drew their opponents steadily towards the other, and when they were close enough, they struck.

Suddenly, in a single movement, the two boys swapped positions, catching Felix and Dimitri off-guard. Dimitri was in mid-stab, and Raphael dodged into the space between his foe’s hand and the lance tip, grabbing the lance haft, he yanked it towards him, wrenching Dimitri completely off-balance, and delivered a solid blow to the stomach. Felix however, found his blade striking the immovable wall of Dedue’s shield, said shield was sharply swung outwards, the force sending the sword flying from Felix’s hand, even as the axe head came crashing in from the other side.

Thus, the fight was won.

Dimitri and Felix were sat upon the solid ground, Dimitri winded by Raphael’s punch, and Felix nursing the bruise received in his side from Dedue’s training axe. Around them, the other students applauded, Sylvain even giving a raucous cheer, as the victors politely held their hands out to help the defeated back up.

Once he was on his feet, Felix gave a ghost of a smile, “Impressive, it seems that you have some skill.”

Dimitri grinned, “Indeed, that was an excellent bout, and amazing how you turned things around so swiftly.”

Raphael rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Well, you were both pretty impressive yourselves. In a 1v1, I don’t think we would’ve won.”

“Indeed.” Dedue admitted, “We had an advantage in that we’ve fought together for some time, a one-on-one match would’ve turned out very differently.”

“I wouldn’t be completely sure of that.”

A new voice joined the conversation, and Edelgard stepped forward from where she’d been watching the match.

“While your teamwork is exceptionally refined, your individual skills are quite impressive.” She eyed them, “Is that a result of Jeralt’s training.”

“Well Captain Jeralt didn’t do all our training.” Raphael answered, “When it become clear we weren’t going to fight the same way he was, he passed us on to other members of the company that specialised in our respective weapons. Though he did make sure we had an understanding of other weapons as well.”

“I see.”

“Wow, you’ve barely been here a day and you’ve already impressed the princess.” Claude stepped out of the crowd and grinned cheekily, “Keep this up and you’ll have every noble here begging you to give them your aid.”

Edelgard gave him a sidelong look, “Well, their skill certainly warrants the attention.”

The Alliance lord gestured casually, “Looks like they’ll be stepping out of their adoptive father’s shadow soon.”

He gave them a mischievous look and Dedue sighed, “Captain Jeralt didn’t technically adopt us.”

“I mean, maybe not technically…” Claude grinned smugly, “But neither one of you are rushing to Seteth’s office to get your surname on the academy records changed from ‘Eisner’.”

“This boy is sharp.” Diablos commented, “I like him.”

Chapter Text

Harpstring Moon, Imperial Year 1180

It had been an eventful end to the month, between joining the academy, becoming part of the Golden Deer house, and the mock battle at the end, Raphael and Dedue had barely had time to catch their breaths.

The mock battle had apparently been a way of examining Byleth’s talents (and theirs since they’d been on the actual combat squad), and the new professor had definitely impressed with a resounding victory. Afterwards, they, and the other students, had been in discussions to decide which classes they’d be attending. Since they were doing just fine so far, they remained on the routes they’d been on already, heading for armoured knight and brawler, meaning that they’d actually be sharing several classes. However, there were some basic classes that could not be skipped.

“Magical Basics?”

At these words, Raphael looked up at Dedue over his vast breakfast.

“Is that our first class?”

The older boy nodded, “Indeed, it appears to be compulsory for anyone who hasn’t had formal magic training previously.”

The blonde shrugged, “Claude did say that basic classes happened for everyone.”

“I know.” Dedue frowned, “But I wonder how it’ll work for us?”

A large, open courtyard had been set aside for the lesson (since it contained a practical element and no one wanted a student to accidently set fire to something), and many students were present.

Those set on classes into magic were absent, since they’d all already had basic training elsewhere and this was meant for people who’d maybe not studied magic at all. Dedue and Raphael were stood with the other Golden Deer students, and Leonie glanced at them.

“I have to admit, I’m surprised you two haven’t been taught the basics already. Doesn’t Captain Jeralt have mages in his company?”

Raphael grinned, “Yeah, but it was pretty clear that we were more suited for physical fighting, so we never got lessons.”

Truthfully, it was because they didn’t know how normal magic would react with a Scion’s powers, so it was decided that they wouldn’t find out. Unfortunately, they had no choice now.

“If you could all give me your attention please.”

Professor Hanneman’s voice caused any conversations to cease as the students gave him their attention.

“Very good.” He cleared his throat, “Now, as you all know, this class will focus on the basics of spellcasting, how magic works and teach you the method of casting the spell Fire. So, if you could all take a seat.”

Those standing sat on the wooden benches placed at one side, facing a large blackboard for the professor to use, and Hanneman wasted no time in beginning his explanation, drawing diagrams on the board as he did so.

“The basics of magic. No doubt all of you have seen or encountered magic in some form by now. All spells require a formula of some sort in order to activate, though the principles of those formulas differ between Reason and Faith magic, but they also all need magic power.”

He gestured around them.

“Magic resides all around us, and a mage draws that power out of the air in order to create the spell, and it is the formula that allows that to happen. Different people draw the magic out at different speeds, thus making a spell they cast stronger or weaker as a result. The faster you can draw magic, the more power the spell receives.”

He paused briefly to acknowledge Felix’s hand, “Yes?”

The boy spoke, “So is the amount of power a person can wield in a spell set, or can it be increased somehow?”

The professor nodded, “Yes, like with physical strength, your magical strength, if you like, can be increased through proper training, however, natural tendency still plays a large role. If a person with great aptitude for magic, and a person with lesser aptitude receive the same amount of training, the one with greater aptitude will still have more powerful spells because of the natural advantage. Some of the most powerful spells will be inaccessible to someone with little aptitude, since they simply cannot draw in enough magic to power them, even with a correct formula.”

This time, it was Ignatz who spoke up, “What do you mean professor, is having the formula correct not enough.”

“No.” Hanneman explained further, “Every spell has a time frame in which magic can be drawn in order to fuel it between beginning to cast and the completed casting. If you do not draw in enough magic to fuel the spell in that time, then it fails, hence why those who draw it in quicker make more powerful spells, they get the minimum amount of magic required and then some extra, increasing the spell’s strength.”

“That’s rather different from how yours works.” Alexander commented to Raphael, “As Scions, you and Dedue have an internal store of magic, but it seems other mages cannot store magic, only pull it in from the air around them.”

Beside him, Dedue put forward a question to the professor.

“Sir, if mages draw magic in in order to use it, how come some people are more resistant to being struck by spells than others?”

“An excellent question.” Hanneman looked delighted at the prospect of expounding further on the subject, “While a formula allows a person to consciously create spells, all living creatures naturally draw magic in to deploy as a barrier when targeted by magic, once again, the speed of this unconscious reaction dictates the barrier’s strength. The more magic you can pull in within the timeframe, the more the barrier decreases the hostile spell’s effects, granting you greater resistance.”

Leonie was frowning in confusion as she spoke up, “You said ‘all living creatures’ does that mean that animals can use magic as well?”

“Yes, and no.” The professor answered, “Producing a barrier against magic is a purely instinctive reaction, needing no more thought than breathing, which is why animals can do it, Pegasi in particular produce strong barriers, hence a Pegasus Knight’s greater spell resistance. However, the conscious use of magic to form spells is beyond animal instinct, thus it is only used by people, the only possible exceptions may be monsters, but how their abilities work is still being studied.”

“What do you mean professor?”

Professor Hanneman looked thoughtful for a moment, “Well, it is a bit off topic…but if you have an interest.” He began to pace lightly as he explained.

“Monsters seem to have a different style of magic compared to other creatures, while they draw in magic the same as anything else, they actually seem capable of storing it within their own bodies. This ‘magic pool’ allows them to project barriers so strong that they weaken physical attacks as well as magical ones, of course, sufficient force shatters this protection but the fact they have enough power to create such defences is remarkable. The preferred theory at this time is that the ‘common’ monsters, such as giant wolves and birds, are actually normal creatures born with this ‘magic pool’. This store of magic continues to grow, increasing the size and power of the creature as it does so, thus creating a monster.”

At his words, Dedue and Raphael glanced at each other briefly, monsters had an internal store of magic they way they did? Slowly, Raphael put up his hand.

“Has there ever been any people born with a magic pool?”

Hanneman adjusted his glasses briefly before answering, “To the best of my knowledge, no. Though there is a theory that summoners had a form of internal magic, but, thankfully, no one has encountered a summoner for a long time, it is likely that they’ve disappeared by now.”

At his words, there was a muttering among the students, one or two, such as Ashe, looking confused, while others, such as Ferdinand nodded knowingly. Noticing this, Hanneman turned back to the board and cleared off a space upon it.

“I see that you all have an interest, so I think we can afford to deviate a little further.” He turned back around and fixed them with a stern look, “However, remember that being a summoner is strictly forbidden by the church, that power is dangerous and corrupting. While magic works with natural forces, summoning is entirely unnatural, and can be incredibly detrimental when used. This is all purely to make you aware of what they can do.” He briefly smiled, “Of course, as I’ve said, it seems that summoners have all but vanished these days, so this will likely remain simply academic knowledge.”

He returned to the board and began his explanation.

“Now, summoners are called as such because their power allows them to bring forth a powerful creature, called an Eidolon. There is little record of what these Eidolons are, but their power is very destructive.” He peered over his glasses at the students, “Ailell, the Valley of Torment is said to be the result of one such Eidolon.”

There was a collective gasp from the students as the professor continued.

“Apparently, the abilities granted to a summoner varied from user to user, but they all used some form of spellcasting that required neither formula, nor the drawing in of magic, hence why it is believed they had some sort of internal magic, though this was the source of their corruption.”

Claude was leaning forward in interest, “What do you mean?”

Hanneman fixed him with a look, “People should not carry magic within them, it is far too dangerous, and it is believed that having internal magic slowly twisted the summoner’s heart and consumed their mind and soul. While the methods of doing so are now unknown, the summoner would make some sort of contract with the Eidolon, receiving their power in exchange for themselves, this is why Eidolons are often considered to be demons of some sort, leading mankind away from the Goddess and against her. That is why gaining the power of summoning is strictly forbidden, anyone who does so will only seek Fόdlan’s destruction.”

In Raphael’s mind, Alexander spoke quietly, “It seems this is the lie the church tells the people.”

After Professor Hanneman’s explanation of summoners, he brought the lesson back towards basic magic, and the learning of the Fire spell.

After going through and explaining the formula of the spell, the professor gave them time to memorise and practise replicating it before they would each take a turn at casting it once, though Raphael was having enough trouble getting the formula right.

“How does this even make sense?! Why does magic require all these symbols and shapes?”

“It does seem needlessly complicated.” Alexander responded in agreement, “A very roundabout way of casting a spell indeed.”

“It’s not too bad.” Dedue put in, “Though it is very…awkward to do.”

“That is enough practice everyone!”

At Hanneman’s authoritative tone, the class halted their practice of the casting motions around the courtyard and turned their attention to the professor, who proceeded with his instructions.

“Now, if you would all take a seat, I will call each of you up in turn in order to attempt a proper casting, as large as the courtyard is, more than one person throwing a fireball will be dangerous.”

He glanced around the class as they retook their seats, then nodded at Dedue.

“Dedue Eisner, if you would please go first.”

Calmly, Dedue stood and took his position facing a target down the other end of the courtyard, listening to Hanneman’s final instructions.

“Now, aim to hit the target if you can, but don’t worry if it takes a few attempts to work, I’m not expecting any of you to produce a perfect spell from the very beginning. Whenever you’re ready.”

Taking and deep breath, the boy ran through the casting motions and chanted the incantation, a magic circle appeared in front of him, then faded out, resulting in nothing and causing the professor to nod knowingly.

“It seems you forget a key part of the formula; you’d swapped the second and third symbols around, try again.”

Dedue repeated the motions several times, correcting the errors Hanneman pointed out, until he completed it in its entirety, forming a fireball. However, instead of being sent towards the target, the whole thing flared and disappeared in a sudden flash of flame, causing everyone to jump in surprise.

“Oh my!”

Hanneman peered at Dedue in interest, “It appears that your drawing of magic is unstable, making the spell itself unstable. It’s a rare occurrence, but sometimes a person is naturally unable to draw magic in in a stable manner. There’s no serious concern, just that you’ll never be able to use magic well.” He nodded approvingly, “Your formula was perfect that time, but it appears that becoming a mage is not a suitable path for you.”

He dismissed Dedue to his seat and called forward the next person, slowly going through each student one by one. Not everyone produced a full fireball (Dimitri’s attempt resulted in a pathetic wisp of flame), but Hanneman seemed happy regardless. Eventually, as the only person left to go, Raphael was called forward.

Like all the others, he stood before the target (that now definitely had scorch marks), and ran through the casting procedure, however, it took him more attempts than the others to get the formula correct, resulting in many failed castings, until Hanneman talked him through it as he cast.

“Very good, that symbol first, then create the formula around the circle, allow the triangle to form, add the second then third symbols and…”

BOOM!

Raphael briefly formed a fireball, then found himself flung back as it exploded with powerful force, causing several students to yelp in surprise. For a few moments, he sat in a daze until he registered a pair of hands on his shoulders.

“Are you alright kid?”

He looked up at the sound of the familiar voice and was surprised by who he saw looking down at him in concern.

“Captain Jeralt?”

Jeralt smiled briefly, “I was nearby when I heard the explosion and came running to see what had happened.” He glanced at the courtyard and grimaced, “Messy…”

Looking the same way as the captain, Raphael discovered that the place he’d been standing now had a small, smoking crater, and Professor Hanneman was staring at it in shock.

“My goodness! I’ve never known anyone’s drawing of magic to be that unstable.” He eyed the boy, “Are you alright?”

Raphael nodded, “Yeah, just a bit bruised after being thrown back.”

Satisfied, the professor nodded and looked back at the crater, which Claude examined before giving a low whistle, “I guess we should call it good fortune that you find magical formula hard to understand.”

Seteth, likely alerted by the explosion swept into the courtyard, his eyes taking everything in at a glance, “What happened here?”

“Nothing to worry about.” Hanneman answered, “It seems that young Raphael’s ability to draw in magic is very unstable, something that can happen in people and result in very unstable magic spells.”

He looked at Raphael, “Though I suggest that you no longer attempt to cast any spells.”

Glancing again at the crater, the boy nodded, “Yes professor.”

Claude grinned slightly, “At least it was only a Fire spell, imagine what would happen if you tried casting something like Ragnarok.”

Seteth visibly blanched as he considered precisely that and responded swiftly, “I think it would be for the best if we never find out.”

After the destruction Raphael wrought, the class was brought to a close, and the decision to keep Raphael from any sort of practical spellcasting allying Seteth’s fears of random explosion in the monastery, that day’s classes continued.

Most of them were basic classes in various fighting disciplines, as well as Byleth’s introductory Tactics class. It wasn’t until they met in Dedue’s room after dinner that the two boys discussed what happened in the first class.

“So, Scions and normal magic techniques don’t mix very well then.”

Raphael smiled briefly, “Yeah, seems that way. Though I wonder why…”

“Diablos told me.”

“Huh?”

Dedue began to explain further, “You know how normal mages draw magic in from the air to cast spells?”

Raphael nodded, “Yes, that’s what Professor Hanneman said.”

“Well, part of the formula used to cast spells is to activate that magic draw, and it is designed to pull in as much magic as it can, that’s why those who draw magic quicker have more powerful spells.”

He paused briefly and the younger boy nodded in understanding, allowing Dedue to continue.

“Mages don’t have an internal magic pool, however, we do, so instead of drawing from the air, the formula takes magic from our pool of magic, which is a much quicker process and the formula will try to take as much magic as it can.”

Raphael sat upright as he realised where this was going.

“So, the formula takes way too much magic and overpowers the spell!”

Dedue grinned, “Exactly, and that is why our formula spells become unstable, they can’t handle the extra power.”

“But your Fire spell merely flared up.” Raphael frowned, “My attempt exploded.”

“That’s because your magic pool is bigger than mine.” The older boy responded, “Considerably bigger, so the formula put far too much power into the spell, leading to the explosion.” His brow creased in worry, “I’m just glad Professor Hannenman simply thought our magic drawing was unstable.”

“Well, we’ve done the basic magic course, and although we have the Faith one left, I think Professor Manuela is going to leave us out of the practical castings.”

“I guess.” Dedue kept frowning, “Though I don’t like the way they describe summoning magic, do people truly believe that we’ve made pacts with demons?”

“I must admit, I find being called a ‘demon’ rather offensive.” Alexander commented.

“It seems to be the lie that they’ve been told for a long time.” Raphael said, “Though I wonder who started it?”

“The church maybe?” Dedue answered, “Though they’d have had to have some serious power to get their lie accepted throughout the continent.”

Raphael yawned and stretched, standing up to return to his own room, “Well, maybe we can find out something about that while we’re here as well.”

Chapter Text

18^th of the Harpstring Moon, Imperial Year 1180

“There you are kid.”

Raphael and Dedue glanced up from breakfast to find Jeralt smiling down at them, he handed Raphael two boxes, and the boy swiftly opened the top one.

“Wait, are these steel gauntlets?”

The man grinned, “Happy Birthday kid, Byleth told me you’re ready to use these now. They’ll hopefully be a big help for your mission later this mon…oof!”

He got no further as boy gave him a bone-crushing hug, “Thanks captain!”

Jeralt prised himself from his grip, “No problem, now please let go before you crush me.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Once released Jeralt nodded to the second box, “You should probably open that one as well.”

Inside the next box, Raphael found and iron axe and a note.

Raphael

Please note that we’ll be stepping up your axe training to help your proficiency with it catch up with your brawling techniques.

Happy Birthday

Byleth

Behind him, Hilda commented from where she was unashamedly reading the note over his shoulder.

“Looks like someone’s the favourite student.” She frowned, “Though who gives weapons as birthday presents…”

“Birthday!”

As if summoned by the Goddess herself, Mercedes seemingly warped to their table, her tone one of gentle admonishment, “Raphael, why didn’t you say anything? I’d have found something nice for you.”

“Uh…”

She smiled, “Never mind, I’ll bake a nice cake and some sweets for you later.”

Still a little baffled by her sudden appearance, Raphael stuttered, “Well, Dedue was planning to cook something as well…”

“How wonderful!” Her smile grew, “Why don’t we make a proper birthday tea, I’ll make the sweets and Dedue can make the savoury, and I’m sure Lorenz can help make some actual tea.”

Smirking, Jeralt left the room, leaving Raphael to be gently bulldozed into a birthday tea by Mercedes while Dedue watched it unfold in amusement.

The birthday tea ended up as more of a birthday party, since it felt like half the students decided to turn up. The majority of their class was present, as were several of the Blue Lions and a few of the Black Eagles.

Mercedes’ sweet making became more akin to a full military operation when loads of people wanted to help (including the potentially coerced Marianne and Benadetta), and Dedue somehow ended up with two trainee chefs in the form of Ashe and Seteth’s sister, Flayn. Lorenz and Ferdinand conspired on the tea-making and were determined to find a tea that Raphael would like, leading to a long tasting session that he was forced to attend, and somehow, Hilda had found time to make a bracelet for him which she handed over during the ‘tea’.

All in all, it was a considerably larger affair than he was used to, with previous birthdays being celebrated with either just Dedue, or marked mostly by gifts from him, Byleth and Jeralt, since mercenary work didn’t stop for birthdays.

He mostly sat there a little bewildered by the whole thing, answering questions from Caspar (how did you get so big?), allaying Lorenz’s concerns about the tea (let it never be said that Lorenz Hellman Gloucester makes a sub-par cup of tea) and being fed plate after plate of food by Annette (she seemed to have made it her mission to find out the exact limit of his now legendary appetite).

It was much later, after Seteth had firmly brought the party to a close, that Raphael was sat in his room with Alexander commenting on the evening.

“Well, most of your fellow students seem like a nice bunch…if quirky.”

Garland Moon, Imperial Year 1180

“So, that mission was an…interesting…pick for students.”

“The Academy is designed to teach students about combat, so putting us in actual combat does make some sense.”

“But why is a church instructing others in warfare?”

As they walked to the dining hall, Raphael and Dedue discussed the last month’s mission. Their class had been assigned to deal with bandits in the Red Canyon, an area that was apparently sacred to the church. The mission itself hadn’t been particularly challenging for them, their time with Jeralt had meant they’d dealt with bandits before, but for some of their classmates, their first brush with real warfare had been difficult.

“Well the Academy was originally set up to train the young nobles of the time to deal with invasions from Almyra, and its purpose is to ensure that the next generation of leaders remain prepared for more attacks like it.”

Dedue glanced at Raphael, “You know a lot about it.”

The younger boy shrugged, “Defending Fόdlan’s Throat is kind of a point of pride in the Alliance, live there long enough and you’ll hear all about it.”

“I see.”

The conversation paused as they got their food, resuming once they’d sat down. Raphael spoke around a mouthful of breakfast.

“Do we know what mission we’re getting this month?”

Dedue shook his head, “Not yet, I assume Byleth will be told today.”

“May I join you?”

A new voice entered the discussion, and Edelgard sat down beside them.

Since joining the Academy, they’d spoken very little with the Adrestian heir, the princess seeming to keep something of a distance between herself and others (excluding Hubert), and to be honest, they felt like they didn’t have much of a read on her.

She fixed them with an appraising stare, “I heard that you two nearly single-handedly completed your mission last month.”

“Not really.” Raphael answered through a mouthful of bread.

Dedue sighed, “Don’t speak with your mouth full.” He then glanced at the princess, “I’m sure the people who told you that exaggerated. Everyone in the class played a part.”

“Yet it was your exploits that everyone talked about most, alongside Professor Byleth’s.” She leaned forward, “I know Jeralt and his company trained you, but the way you handled yourselves in the mock battle, and what I’ve heard, suggests more experience than your time with the mercenaries would’ve granted.”

Raphael, remembering to swallow his mouthful first, answered, “We travelled around by ourselves for about a year before Jeralt offered us a place in his company.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we travelled through the Empire for a while, then the Alliance, so we had to learn to take care of ourselves a bit. Though the company really improved our basic skills.”

“You didn’t travel through the Kingdom?”

Dedue shook his head, “No, since I am originally from Duscur, travelling through the Kingdom would’ve been too dangerous.”

“Of course, the prejudices of Faerghus would’ve made things difficult.” She focused on Dedue, “Have you ever thought about trying to restore Duscur?”

Raphael glanced his way, and frowned at the princess, as Dedue answered, “Yes, I have considered it, but I do not think it lies within my power to do so.” He looked down, “By the time of the Tragedy, my connection to my homeland was…tenuous…at best. I hadn’t lived there for a few years already by then, and I no longer knew anyone there.”

“I see…”

There was an awkward silence before Edelgard stood and nodded at them, “Excuse, I should take my leave.”

Once she was out of earshot, Raphael glanced at his friend, “What do you suppose that was about?”

Dedue frowned, “I’m not sure.”

As the month progressed along with their lessons, they began taking additional battles to further improve their real-world combat skills. Most of these battles involved dealing with minor bandit groups or monster gatherings, and there was always a platoon of church knights waiting in the wings to back them up if needed.

It was shortly after one of these skirmishes that Raphael and Dedue found them.

It had been a ‘bloodless victory’ on their part, no serious injuries or fatalities on their side. The bandit group had been small and unorganised, posing little danger to the trained students and Byleth’s tactics, the battle was over swiftly and Dedue and Raphael were doing a careful search of the area for anymore of their foe in hiding when they came across the injured wolf.

They both were immediately on guard, wolves were very rarely alone, and an injured animal could be very dangerous even if it were alone.

As expected, the wolf growled at them dangerously, but then stopped suddenly, settling for just watching them, unsure as to what to do, they stood there a moment, only to be distracted by a squeak as a rat stuck its head out from between the wolf’s paws.

That was odd, while normally a wolf would see a rat as a snack, this wolf showed little interest in eating the rat, and the rat seemed unconcerned about what should be an imminent death.

Carefully, the younger boy started to approach the pair.

“Raph…”

Despite Dedue’s concern, Raphael continued to approach the animals.

“I think we’re okay Dedue, I want to see if we can help it.”

With a sigh, the older boy followed, keeping his eyes fixed on the wolf, who seemed okay with their approach, not even baring its teeth as the blonde moved behind it.

“It’s his back leg. I think one of the bandits got him with their blade, I’m going to try and clean, then heal the wound, keep him calm.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, pet his head or something.”

Despite his better judgement Dedue found himself gently petting the wolf’s head, the creature only wincing now and then as Raphael used some of the water he was carrying to wash the wound out before closing it. The rat had moved and clambered up the blonde’s arm to settle at on his shoulder, watching him as he worked.

“Check if anyone is around.”

Dedue swiftly scanned the area, seeing none of the classmates close enough to see what was going on.

“Its clear, go for it.”

Quickly, the younger boy held up his hand and muttered the spell.

“Cure.”  

A glow, and soon the wolf’s skin knitted back together again, leaving no trace of the former wound except some missing fur. They expected the wolf to realise it could walk and then be on its way, back to the wild, instead, it stood, tested its leg, then immediately jumped up to lick Dedue’s face, tail wagging like crazy.

“Um…down boy!”

Raphael grinned at the display of affection, “He’s really friendly.”

He tickled the rat on his shoulder under the chin, and it squeaked in response, now seemingly content to stay where he was.

“Do you think we can keep them?”

While their classmates were surprised when they returned with a wolf and rat in tow, only Lorenz voiced any doubts about taking them back to the monastery, which were quickly stifled by Marianne’s sudden uncharacteristic outrage when he suggested leaving them behind. Either way, they had little choice, since the rat was still using Raphael as a perch, and the wolf had decided to follow them whether they liked it or not.

Seteth on the other hand, was not as accepting.

“So, you went on a training mission to deal with bandits and returned with a wolf.”

“And a rat.” Raphael added with a little indignation, pointing at said rat that had now temporarily moved to sit on his head.

“And a rat.” Seteth amended tiredly, “And you decided to bring them both back here.”

Raphael nodded, “Well, they both seemed really attached to us now, it didn’t feel right to just abandon them.”

It wasn’t even a lie, the rat had remained with Raphael the entire journey back, and the wolf had stuck to Dedue’s side like glue, even obeying his commands.

Seteth looked to Byleth, “And you’re happy to allow this.”

The woman’s response was simple, “Yes, the rat wasn’t going to leave Raphael and the wolf would’ve simply followed us back anyway.”

The man sighed and they knew he didn’t really have an argument against letting the animals stay. The Academy didn’t have a ban on pets and there were so many dogs and cats around the monastery already that a rat and a wolf weren’t going to make much difference. As long as neither animal was too badly behaved or outright dangerous, they weren’t breaking any rules, no doubt Claude had already checked for them.

He gave another sigh, “Very well, but they’re your responsibility, understand?”

Raphael gave a smile that would put the sun to shame, “Understood, we’ll make sure that Fenrir and Carbuncle will remain on their best behaviour.”

“That is reassuring. You are dismissed.”

Once they’d vanished, Seteth saw Jeralt hanging about outside his office and beckoned him in, the knight clearly smirking.

“He’d already named them then?”

Seteth raised and eyebrow, “It seems so.” He sighed for the third time in ten minutes, “They were keeping those pets no matter what I said, weren’t they?”

“Pretty much, Raphael was dead set on it and good luck trying to deny him without feeling like an absolute monster, especially when he pulls the kicked puppy expression.” The knight grinned, “We should just count ourselves lucky that he’s yet to use his manipulative capabilities for malicious reasons.”

The dead earth cracked and crunched underfoot, scarred and burned by the hatred of Faerghus four years before.

Duscur was a dead land, uninhabitable and abandoned, the pompous lord who owned it not even using it for himself, except to cast out the unwanted from the rest of his land, it was a country of desolation, darkness and sorrow.

He would inflict that same sorrow upon the kingdom himself, let them taste the senseless slaughter they inflicted, feel the desolation as their land dies beneath them, and despair at the horrors he would inflict upon every scornful, hated…

“Patience, that will soon come.”

His constant companion soothed his vengeful thoughts, allowing him to focus on the task at hand.

“I know Charon, thank you.”

“Of course.”

He turned to his fellow people, more of Duscur who were ready to take all the steps needed for their retribution.

“We’ll soon be in the heart of Duscur, we’ll begin preparations there.”

The assorted men and women nodded in understanding.

Chapter Text

Garland Moon, Imperial Year 1180

“So, we’re now helping the church stamp out dissidents?”

Raphael glanced at Dedue, being the only one to hear his quiet question, “I guess so, I mean, Lord Lonato is staging an armed revolt, but simply going straight to fighting without even trying to talk things out…”

“There’s more to it than that.”

They both nearly jumped out of their skins as Marianne softly broke into the conversation, glancing back towards where she was marching behind them as she looked up at them.

“Threatening violence and turning your blades on the church is the same as attempting to attack the Goddess.” She looked down again, “That hubris is the same as that shown by summoners.”

The boys shared a quick glance, before Dedue spoke carefully, “What do you mean?”

She glanced up again briefly, “It’s what my mother told me. Crests are given by the Goddess, but summoners used blood rituals to gain their powers. They believed themselves so powerful, that they attempted to destroy the Goddess and make themselves gods, their attempts destroyed themselves and nearly everyone else, only the Goddess prevented Fόdlan’s complete destruction. That’s why summoning is a forbidden magic.”

“That’s right.”

A new voice affirmed Marianne’s words, and Catherine, who their class was accompanying, began to stride alongside them, speaking strongly, “I understand some of your concerns, but by turning on the church, Lord Lonato declared war on the Goddess, as her followers, we must face him and punish accordingly.”

To demonstrate her own faith in her words, she held her blade, Thunderbrand, up meaningfully, the sword glowing as if in anticipation.

Raphael looked at it warily.

“Is it supposed to be glowing like that?”

Her expression morphed into one of confusion, “Are you telling me that neither one of you have heard of Hero’s Relics?”

Both boys shook their heads, and her confusion became shock, “That’s a surprise.” She gestured at Dedue, “Now I’d understand why you hadn’t, but you Raphael, you’ve never heard anything about them?”

“I mean…maybe…a long time ago?”

She shrugged, “Doesn’t matter, I’ll happily tell you now.” She launched straight into her explanation, “Basically, Hero’s Relics are weapons or artefacts that work with crests, a relic can be used by anyone as a weapon, but only someone who bears the correct crest can use a relic’s full power. When held by someone with the correct crest, the relic will glow, the way Thunderbrand does in my hands, and relics require different crests, Thunderbrand requires the crest of Charon, which I carry.”

“Charon?” Dedue frowned thoughtfully, and Raphael also felt he’d heard that name somewhere before.

Seeing their frowns, and thinking they were confused who Charon was, Catherine elaborated, “One of the Ten Elites, all crests go back to them, they were heroes to whom the Goddess first gifted crests.”

A knight ran up, interrupting the conversation, “Lady Catherine, there’s a heavy fog rolling in.”

Distracted, she nodded, “I see it, let’s move to a slow march and move cautiously, we don’t want to be ambushed in this fog.”

As she joined the front of the group, Raphael whispered in Dedue’s ear, “Didn’t you once tell me that Charon was an Aeon?”

The older boy gently nodded, “Yes, while I never got the chance to take my father’s records of Aeons with me, he did tell me of Charon, he said that he was a dangerous Aeon to encounter.”

“Indeed, he is.” Alexander added, “Charon is both powerful, and dangerous.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember what I taught you, about differences between Aeons.”

Recalling his knowledge, Raphael answered, “Yes, you said that while you and Diablos are like ‘normal’ Aeons, there are more powerful ones, like ‘Grand’ Aeons.”

“Exactly, unlike me and Diablos, a Grand Aeon chooses a summoner they deem worthy of them, and often will lay out a test or require a ritual that must be completed before receiving their power. An Aeon cannot disobey a command from their summoner, but we have our own moralities and values, the same as humans. Charon is a Grand Aeon that chooses a summoner that best suits his own purposes, and his magic is considered particularly dark.”

“What is his magic.”

“I do not know, only that it was thought of as horrific and terrifying as you can get.”

“So, why does an Aeon, known as horrific, share a name with one of the Ten Elites?”

“That is indeed a very good question.”

Any further deliberation or discussion was halted when Fenrir, at Dedue’s side as he now always was, stopped suddenly, hackles raised. The wolf gave a low, menacing growl, his eyes fixed on the fog around them. Dedue turned his gaze on the nearby Byleth.

“Professor…”

She glanced his way, took one look at the growling Fenrir, and immediately gave a hand signal to order everyone into combat positions. Those who could see her in the fog, obeyed, and those who couldn’t took their cue from those around them, meaning that their class was prepared and ready for the first two warriors to charge out of the fog.

Neither reached them, as Catherine met them head on, with one slash, the first was down, and a second slash felled the other, both of them dead in the space of a breath, Thunderbrand glowing brightly. As if retreating from the sword’s light, the fog partially receded, revealing a troop of soldiers and an older man in more ornate armour sat upon a horse among them. Though he’d never seen him before, Raphael was willing to bet that this was Lord Lonato. The lord’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Catherine with hatred.

“Thunderstrike Cassandra, your blind zealotry brought about the death of my son.”

Catherine strode confidently forward, “I no longer answer to that name. I am Catherine, of the Knights of Seiros.” She swung Thunderbrand down to point at Lonato, “Now face the blade of one who serves the Goddess!”

In response, the fog closed back in, and Byleth swiftly gave commands.

“All of you, be prepared, an attack can from anywhere while they use fog as cover, stay close and always have at least one other person watching your blind spots.”

With the arrival of several soldiers, the battle begun in earnest.

Sticking together and defending Marianne, who was their main healer, slowly pushed forward behind Byleth. As they held the front, Lorenz, Hilda and Leonie protected the flanks, with Claude, Ignatz and Lysithea, attacking with bow and magic from the centre of the group. Though throwing out the odd Nosferatu, Marianne was largely focused on healing the others, mostly Dedue who was taking the brunt of the attacks. While he could block most with his shield, some nimble opponents could inflict a wound or two on him before Raphael managed to beat them down.

Catherine seemed to be everywhere at once, Thunderbrand flashing as she swung, stab and parried her way skilfully across the battlefield, barely giving the other knights with her a chance to fight themselves. Byleth was also carving her way forwards, her precise strikes tempered from a lifetime of fighting displayed effortlessly.

However, the fog remained, and with its thick covering over them, they were more reacting and defending than actually making headway. The enemy seemed unhindered by the conditions, and it was Lysithea who growled in frustration, “This fog, it has to be caused by a mage, I’m certain of it!”

Byleth spoke to her directly, “Do you know of a way to find out where?”

The girl blasted a swordsman with a miasma spell before answering, “Not precisely, but they need to be somewhere between us and Lonato, that would give them the best coverage to hinder us without hindering him. They’re probably hiding in thick trees or bushes to remain undetected.”

The professor swiftly gave her commands, “Raphael, Dedue, break off and find that mage, do what you can to stop this fog.”

“Professor.”

Acknowledging her orders, the boys broke off and pushed forward into the nearby undergrowth, as Byleth took up their position defending the front of their group. They moved swiftly, their natural senses for magic guiding them towards the mage (now they knew to look for fog creating magic) and Fenrir’s keen senses and warning growls alerting them to any incoming assailants. Two men tried to jump them, but one blow of Dedue’s axe and two strikes of Raphael’s gauntlets felled them, however, for the first time, they registered something off.

“Dedue, they have no armour or proper gear.”

The older boy nodded, “They’re not soldiers or knights, they’re militia, normal people.”

The younger stuttered, “But, why? Why is he using untrained villagers to fight, if he needed more fighters couldn’t he have hired mercenaries?”

Dedue crouched down beside the fallen men, “Maybe they willingly joined him.” He checked them, “They’re still alive.”

Raphael joined him, and they shared a look, nodded, and the younger boy held out his hand.

“Curaga.”

Immediately, light glowed about the two men, as their wounds began to close and heal. The moment it faded, Dedue also raised his hand.

“Slowra.”

With time briefly slowed for the two militia, the boys hurried off into the fog, continuing their search for the mage causing it. With Fenrir’s help, they avoided anymore confrontations with militia, and were soon approaching the fog’s source.

As expected, there was a mage there causing it, but he was also accompanied by two other mages, who were there to defend him, and all three were definitely neither militia nor Lonato’s own forces. With beaked masks and pointed hoods, they clearly stood out as a separate faction, likely allied with Lonato for this fight.

“Watch yourself Dedue.” Diablos warned urgently, “These guys are of the same ilk as the ones that were holding Raphael captive.”

Dedue had recognised that immediately, he remembered how twisted the magic of those mages had been. Upon their arrival, the two guards raised their hands, dark magic spells already forming. Dedue raised his shield but Raphael moved faster. Planting himself in front of him, the younger held up his hands defensively as he cast the spell.

“Shell!”

On command a sphere formed around him, blocking the two miasma spells. ‘Shell’ was a defense spell specifically for magical attacks, unlike ‘Protect’ which was designed for physical assaults. It had its limits, and needed to be maintained, but two miasma spells were no match for it.

While one mage stepped back in surprise, the other sneered.

“The wayward summoner, we were warned you might have new tricks.” He circled his hand, likely creating the formula for another, more powerful spell, “Don’t think you can best us that easily.”

Unfortunately for him, the fog was still being generated, and while it prevented their allies from seeing the enemy too quickly, it also meant no one could see Dedue and Raphael use their powers, hence why Byleth had chosen them to find the mage in the first place. They had excellent tools to deal with most threats.

Stepping around Raphael, Dedue pointed his axe at the casting mage.

“Stop!”

Instantly, the mage froze mid-cast, his magical formula hanging motionless in the air. ‘Stop’ briefly halted time for a single target, they were immune to damage while it was active, but it was perfect for temporarily removing them from the fight.

Raphael charged forward; one hand raised towards the other mage who was hastily preparing another spell.

“Holy!”

Light burst from the ground beneath the mage, causing him to be flung back with a scream. Normally, Raphael’s Holy magic wasn’t very effect against people, but it seemed Dark Mages were the exception. The third mage left off his fog creation spell to defend himself, but it was too late, the boy’s gauntlets took him out of the equation permanently.

As the fog began to rapidly clear, the Stop spell faded, causing the mage to launch his spell at thin air. Dedue had already moved beside him and dealt him a stunning blow with his shield, knocking him down but not killing him. Fenrir launched himself at the man, and pinned the mage to the ground, growling ferociously as Dedue stood over them.

“What are you planning!?”

Dedue knew it in his gut, these mages had their own agenda, beyond Lonato’s, and he wanted to know what it was.

The mage’s answer was a single, harsh word, causing him lurch unnaturally, and simply die, leaving Dedue with no answers.

Still in battle, the boy quickly focused on his surroundings, only to find that, with the fog gone, Catherine and the other knights had already made their way to Lonato’s position, leaving a trail of enemy forces, both militia and soldier, dead or wounded in their wake. Byleth held their class back, keeping them away from the confrontation about to unfold.

With the other knights dealing with Lonato’s entourage, Catherine took on the lord himself. Thunderbrand ready, she prepared for the fight.

“Prepare to face judgement for your heresy!”

Lonato snarled, “The only heresy, comes from your own Archbishop!”

With a roar, he drove his horse forward, lance ready as Catherine, charged to meet him. Lance met relic with a clash, Catherine managing to unbalance him causing him to fall from his mount. Skilfully righting himself, he met her again on foot, but this time, instead of clashing together, Catherine’s blade cut clean through his lance haft. Lonato had only a moment to realise his position before Thunderbrand swung down, bringing his revolt, and his life, to an abrupt end.

In the deathly silence that followed, Dedue couldn’t help but feel that the glow of Thunderbrand mirrored the colour of the blood it spilled far too well.

The march back to Garreg Mach was quiet and solemn, at least for the students.

The knights were talking and laughing, as if nothing unusual had happened. The opinion of the knights seemed to be that they’d performed some great sacred service for the Goddess and were talking about the honour and glory they might’ve achieved. The only one of them seemingly affected was Catherine herself, while she’d been the heart of the banter and conversations on the way to battle, she was quiet and withdrawn now, only speaking to give commands.

Dedue had heard from Claude about the letter detailing Rhea’s assassination that’d been found on Lonato’s body and agreed with their House Leader that it was far too obvious to be anything but a distraction. However, future plots were far from any of the student’s minds.

While missed in the chaos of battle, it became all too obvious afterwards that they’d struck down militia, not just soldiers and knights. For those who’d only really experienced battle for the first-time last month, that had hit some of them hard. Why had normal people, farmers, smiths and weavers, chosen to fight in a battle against trained fighters? They must’ve known they’d be facing fully fledged knights, so why go through with it? Did they even get a choice?

Dedue felt they did, others mentioned that the militia fought as if they believed in what they were doing, so what had the church done to raise them up against it? He gathered that Lonato had personal reasons, but that wouldn’t rally the common people behind him in such a way.

The final question lay in the mages, what were they doing there. One of them clearly knew of Raphael (that knowledge worried him the most), but what did they have to gain from Lonato’s revolt?

He moved forward, coming alongside Byleth, to speak to her.

“Professor.”

She looked his way, saw his expression, and moved closer so they were less likely to be overheard.

“The mages, the ones causing the fog, they seem connected to the ones me and Raphael encountered before.”

She nodded in understanding, “When we return to the monastery, I need you and Raphael to tell me everything you can.”

“Yes professor.”

Chapter Text

Garland Moon, Imperial Year 1180

They just got time to settle down in Byleth’s office before she was immediately questioning them.

“What do you know about the mages you encountered?”

Raphael was the one to speak first, “Well, when I first met them, they were working with Lord Essar. They knew I was a summoner and kept me at an isolated manor, basically, they spent two and a half years building up my strength. I didn’t know it at the time, but they were planning some sort of enhancement experiments. Dedue got me out before they reached that stage.”

Byleth folded her arms and inclined her head in thoughtfully, “How did they know about you to begin with?”

The boy looked down, “I think my father told them, he handed me over to them.”

“What!?” Dedue stared at him in surprise, “I thought you’d been kidnapped, I never knew that your own father handed you over to them.”

Raphael rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uneasy, “I mean, I think they told him that they were going to ‘cure’ me. Though Grandpa flat out told him that wasn’t what they actually wanted.” He glanced up at Byleth, “Do you think my father might know more?”

She shook her head, “Unlikely, they either told him little, or straight out lied about who they were.”

“Oh.”

She looked to Dedue, “Is that all you know?”

“Pretty much.” The older boy frowned, “After I rescued Raphael, we never saw them again, until now. Diablos, said that their magic felt warped and twisted, more so than a normal dark mage’s, that’s how the other ones we encountered seemed, and one of them even referred to Raphael as ‘wayward summoner’.”

Raphael continued, “We thought the mages that took me were working for Lord Essar, but maybe they were part of their own group that was only working with him.”

“But what interest does a group have in both experimenting on a summoner for an Empire noble and also assisting a Kingdom noble to revolt against the church?” Dedue asked, “Perhaps they are a larger organization than they seem.”

“For now, we can only remain alert.” Byleth leaned forward, “I am now certain that the assassination plan we found on Lord Lonato is merely a distraction, and I do not doubt that the church thinks the same. I don’t know how they plan to proceed, but I think Claude is already planning to look into alternative targets for intruders during the Rite of Rebirth next month. I’m sure he and the other house leaders are planning to look into this themselves, perhaps we should help as well.”

“Professor, we could keep our senses open for more traces of their magic. Unless they know how to conceal it, we should sense their strange magical presence easily enough.”

“That is a good idea.” Byleth stood, “I’ll meet with Claude and the other leaders.” She gave them a meaningful look, “Keep an eye out for each other.”

Blue Sea Moon, Imperial Year 1180

“Raphael, if you keep feeding him like that then he’s going to get fat.”

“He’s a growing rat! Carbuncle needs lots of food.”

“The only way he’s growing is outwards.”

Ignoring Dedue’s arguments, Raphael continued giving his rat titbits from the plate of food he’d brought from the dining hall, Carbuncle eagerly snapping the morsels up. With a sigh and a shake of his head, the older boy gave up and returned to the book he was reading over. It was all about Charon, the original holder of the crest of Charon and one of the Ten Elites. Ever since their conversation with Catherine, he’d been looking into the elite, trying to work out if there was a link between them and the Aeon, Charon.

So far, he’d only found the information that the church gave out to everyone, that Charon was a hero that fought alongside Saint Seiros, but there was something suspicious about the information, mainly the lack of information. For a great hero, there was very little to be found, even the book elaborated more on the crest and its bearers after Charon, than Charon himself. It seemed odd that there was only basic details to be found on the hero, especially since entire noble lines were considered as such because of the crest he’d had.

“It does seem very strange, why say so little about their supposed ‘great heroes’?”

Diablos had become only more cynical about the information they could find, in fact, it wasn’t just Charon, there was little to be found on any of the original crest bearers, barring the four saints and Seiros herself, only what was common knowledge because of the church.

Dedue shut the book resignedly, “I don’t think we’re going to get much of use out this one.”

“Not just that one.” Raphael pointed out.

He wasn’t wrong, though they’d searched for anything more about the church’s reason for hating Scions, the library, for all its books, held little information on the subjects they were after. Beyond the church’s declaration that summoning was ‘evil’, there was little saying why. Even looking beyond the library books had only produced stories and tales, each one seemingly vastly different. Some claimed that summoning was blood magic, others said it was forming contracts with demons, yet more claimed it came from child sacrifice, or corrupt mages, a couple of the kingdom students said summoning came from Duscur, and was a form of strange curse magic, some Alliance students said it was Almyran tribal magic, while a few from the Empire claimed it came from Dagda or beyond. Even talking to Petra, who hailed from Brigid, only brought up more horror stories.

“Summonings are dark spirits.” She claimed when Dedue brought the topic up, “They lead people astray, promising much power to those who bind themselves to them, but they only spread chaos, and suffering.”

So even in Brigid, summoners were considered evil, it was strange how seemingly every country reviled summoners, and they could find no solid information as to why.

“Knew I’d find you two here.”

Claude sauntered up, sitting himself beside Raphael, “So, since it’s a day off and all, are you going to join us in our little investigation?”

“You mean try to work out what the enemy’s true target during the Rite of Rebirth is?” Dedue asked.

“Exactly.” Lysithea plonked herself down beside him, and soon, many more students, including Edelgard and Dimitri piled into the Golden Deer classroom (that had previously only held Raphael and Dedue), pulling around chairs and tables to form a rough gathering around the two of them and the house leaders.

Edelgard opened the discussion, “I’m assuming, since we’re all here, that we believe that the note detailing the assassination plot is nothing but a distraction.”

“Of course.” Hubert smiled sinisterly from his position behind her, “The ruse is laughably transparent, I doubt anyone wouldn’t be able to see right through it.”

“Unless they’ve deliberately made it that way.” Lysithea pointed out.

“Ooh, like a double-bluff!” Annette bounced excitedly, “Like, make a fake note to be found, so we think their trying to distract us from something else, but actually be after the Archbishop the entire time!”

Marianne spoke up quietly, “But why would anyone want to harm the church?”

“There are many who disagree with the church and its methods.” Edelgard stated, “You can’t deny that they can be very harsh with anyone they deem heretical or threatening towards them.”

“Anyway.” Claude interrupted, “The question isn’t about the church and its methods, but rather what would be the enemy’s target if the note found is to distract us from what they’re actually planning.”

“Well, the church must have a lot of artefacts and relics.” Ashe spoke up, “Maybe they intend to steal them.”

“I can’t help but feel that that isn’t the case.” Dimitri folded his arms, “If they wanted to steal such things, then hiring a good thief would be a far simpler and more efficient way of achieving that. They wouldn’t need to incite Lord Lonato into a revolt and plant a fake note.”

“Firstly, I think we need a little more information.” Claude smiled, at Dedue and Raphael, “Now, after the battle, I noticed that some of the mages didn’t seem to be a part of Lonato’s forces, I assume these were the ones that were creating the fog to hinder us. Now, since you two were the ones to fight them, I thought you might have picked up some more information about them.”

All eyes fell upon them, Dimitri and Edelgard looking particularly interested by Claude’s words, and the boys briefly froze. Just about to bite into some meat, Raphael quickly did so, leaving Dedue with the job of answering.

“Not really.” The older boy looked thoughtful, carefully considering his words, “Though they seemed to be allied, I do not think that they were under Lord Lonato’s command, and their garb marked them out as another group.”

Edelgard, leaned forward in interest, “In what way?”

“Firstly, their robes weren’t normal mage uniform, and they all wore strange beaked masks, along with pointed hoods.”

“Masks and hoods?” Lysithea fixed him with an intense gaze.

“Yes.”

She fell into silence, her brow creased in troubled thought, but said nothing else.

“Dedue.” Diablos spoke gently, “Giving them a little more information might help us get some more back.”

He could see the Aeon’s point, but the boy hesitated, these people weren’t stupid, and he didn’t want to inadvertently give them enough information to work out what they were.

“Actually, me and Dedue have encountered them once before.”

Raphael took the decision out of his hand, his voice quieter and softer than its usual, jolly tone, and Dedue glanced at him in surprise. The younger boy returned the gaze, his eyes relaying his intention.

Obviously, Alexander had made the same suggestion as Diablos.

At his words, everyone became noticeably far more interested, with Dimitri prompting further explanation.

“What do you mean?”

“Years ago, I was…kidnapped by mages like them.” The boy carefully answered, “At the time, I thought they served Lord Essar, but now I think they were just working with him.”

Several of the Empire students raised eyebrows or made noises of surprise at this, but didn’t interrupt, as Raphael continued.

“I was held captive by them for two and a half years, they were planning some sort of ‘enhancements’ but never actually got to performing them, they’d used the time they had me to build up my physical body to improve their chances of success. Dedue rescued me before they did anything else.”

By now, he held the attention of everyone in the room, Lysithea regarding him as in a whole new light, and even Hubert displaying a glimmer of surprise.

“Intriguing, I was not aware that Lord Essar had been involved in such things, while he was found to be far from suitable for the Empire, that particular piece of information seemed to slip by those that investigated him.”

The dark mage’s tone suggested that he found his lack of knowledge of Essar’s role as a personal failing, and Dedue made a note to keep a close eye on Hubert, certain that the other boy would be doing the same towards them.

Mercedes, unsurprisingly, was more concerned with Raphael himself, “That must have been horrible for you, being held captive like that.”

Raphael shifted uncomfortably, “Well, it wasn’t as bad as it sounds, it’s not like I was being beaten and starved. I got three meals a day and as long as I behaved, I wasn’t mistreated.”

“Still, being taken from your family and being kept prisoner shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

“Wait!” Hilda, who’d largely appeared uninterested in the discussion, suddenly cut in, “What if Raphael is their goal, and their using the fake note to distract us so they can kidnap him again?”

“That is a likely possibility.” Claude narrowed his eyes slightly, his mind clearly turning, “If the mages working with Lord Lonato are from the same group as the ones that kidnapped Raphael, then they have been active in at least two territories, both the Empire and the Kingdom.”

“They’ve been in the Alliance as well.” Lysithea amended quietly, “Going by their description, they sound like they are the same group that my family have encountered as well.”

“So, they have, or have had, a presence in all three countries.” Claude continued, “That means its likely they know that Raphael is here, if they’ve spent two and a half years already, preparing him for their ‘enhancements’, then they’re unlikely to let go of a chance to finish what they started.”

“Not necessarily.” Edelgard countered, “Goading Lord Lonato into attacking the church and planting a fake note would be a lot of unneeded effort just for a simple kidnapping, they likely have a far bigger goal in mind, likely something that would affect the church as a whole.”

“That as it may be, they may certainly try a kidnapping while pursuing their main goal.” Lorenz put in, “At least we shouldn’t dismiss the possibility entirely. I suggest we formulate a strategy to have people around him as much as possible for added protection.”

“Wait, what…!?”

Hilda halted Raphael’s exclamation at this, “Now Raphael, we know that you and Dedue are basically joined at the hip and you have Fenrir around all the time as a watchdog, but it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra person or two about just in case.”

“Agreed.” Claude added, “Though I don’t envy anyone trying to get past that wolf of yours.”

“Squeak!”

As if indignant at being forgotten, Carbuncle let out a squeak from where he was polishing off the last of the crumbs from Raphael’s now empty plate.

The leader of the Golden Deer grinned, “Oh, you as well Carbuncle, woe betide anyone trying to hurt your master while you’re around.”

“Squeak!”

“Oh, I’ve just had an idea!” All eyes turned on Caspar as he scratched his head after his loud exclamation, “There’s this place in the monastery where something happens this month, now where was it…Oh I know!”

Lindhart was sleeping beside him, and the blue-haired boy rudely jabbed his snoozing friend in the side, “Hey Lindhart! What was that place you told me about, the one where something happens this month?”

The green-haired boy blearily opened his eyes and answered with a yawn, “The Holy Mausoleum, it’s usually sealed off to the public except during the day of the Rite of Rebirth. Apparently, the tomb of Saint Seiros is found there, and is always heavily guarded.”

“Unless the knights are potentially redirected elsewhere for other reasons.” Claude added.

“Like a suspected assassination attempt on the Archbishop!” Hilda finished.

Edelgard nodded in agreement, “Assuming the church is their current target, the Holy Mausoleum is a likely place to find evidence or some such thing that might tarnish or even damage the church.”

Dimitri followed their train of thought, “And with the knights occupied with keeping an eye out for assassins, they could slip into the Mausoleum during the height of the festivities and search it at their leisure.”

Claude smirked, “That does seem the most likely plan. Though if we’ve figured it out, then the church certainly has.”

Leonie frowned, “But this month’s mission is to patrol areas of the monastery during the Rite of Rebirth.”

“Areas which all happen to be near the entrance to the Holy Mausoleum.” The House Leader explained, “I think the church is counting on us working this out and doing something about it.”

“Wait, isn’t it dangerous to leave something like this to students like us?” Annette asked.

“That’s exactly why they’re doing it.” Felix stated, “The enemy will unlikely underestimate us because we’re students, and we’re here to learn battle techniques and strategy. The church is using us to blindside them.”

Hubert seemed impressed, “A risky gamble on their part, but will prove to be quite effective.”

“I see you’ve worked it out then.”

Everyone jumped as a new voice joined the discussion, and Byleth strode forward from where she’d been hanging around behind the group, listening in.

Raphael stared at her, “Professor, how long have you been listening to us?”

“For most of the discussion.” She answered bluntly, “I thought it best to let you all come to the conclusion yourselves before I stepped in. You are here to learn after all.”

Claude shook his head, “I’m guessing you’re now going to discuss your strategy for the actual day with us.”

“Of course.”

After the long strategy meeting with Byleth and the other students, they had a plan in place for the Rite of Rebirth, and Raphael had his own rotation of bodyguards.

They hadn’t dismissed the possibility of a kidnapping and several of the students were now taking turns to hang around him during the day and accompany him most places. Unfortunately, Byleth had included this bodyguard rotation in her strategies for the coming month, so he couldn’t even really protest, and Jeralt was also behind the idea as well, and Raphael knew it was no accident that the battalion chosen for his training in combat leadership just happened to be Jeralt’s own mercenary group.

The problem with this was that it was hard to look further into the church’s condemnation of summoners when he had other students with him all the time, leaving Dedue to attempt further research on his own since he could break away from the entourage, but he was at least learning a lot more about his fellow students.

For all her trying to act like an adult, Lysithea really still liked childlike things, like dolls and sweets, and Raphael had been slightly pushing to see how much he could get away with treating her like a little sister. He thinks he got further than most, probably because she’d started treating him more warmly since learning about his time kidnapped, and while she vocally said it wasn’t necessary or ‘adult’ to do so, she never failed to take him up on his offer of giving her a piggyback.

Mercedes seemed to have added him to her large list of fellow students to mother and spoil. Hanging around with her always resulted in a baking session and she never failed to let him lick the spoon or the mixing bowl once she was done with them, as well as sample the finished product, though finishing up the left-over cake icing remained an exclusive Annette right.

Lorenz and Ferdinand had taken it upon themselves to work on his tea-making skills. They seemed to it consider it their ‘duty as nobles’ to refine his manners and etiquette, and he’d been forced to sit through several meals using more cutlery than he really thought he needed to and perfecting the proper way to hold a teacup. Personally, having become used to eating whenever he felt like it and not worrying about ‘proper’ form, Raphael didn’t see the point, but they were at least nicer about teaching him ‘proper manners’ than Ingrid was.

Having Hilda around usually turned into an accessory making session, though they disagreed on what made a good accessory. She always wanted them to look dainty or pretty, whereas he saw no issues with decorating it with things like bear claws and wolf fangs. She insisted that women wanted pretty things, not ‘tough-looking’ ones, but he knew Byleth often wore the bear claw necklace he’d made her for her birthday a couple of years ago, so he was sure she wasn’t completely right.

Dorothea usually pulled him into singing lessons. He and Dedue had once been singing a comic ditty they’d learned from one of Jeralt’s mercenaries together during their kitchen duty, and she’d heard them. She then announced that their voices were too nice to go to waste and proceeded to give them singing lessons using the things she’d learned at the opera. Occasionally, Professor Manuela joined them, showing how she could be incredibly hard to please when it came to song.

Caspar kept wanting to spar and get bigger muscles, Ashe wanted stories about their travels, Sylvain kept trying to drag him along to pick up girls, Annette helped him with some of his written work, Petra told him about Brigid, and asked him questions about what Fόdlan was like amongst the villages and towns beyond the cities and even Marianne would talk to him and show him good ways to care for horses and some of the other animals around the monastery.

All in all, while it seemed unnecessary to have people hanging about him for his protection, he wasn’t disliking their company.

Dedue sighed as he ran his finger along the shelves of the library, none of the available books looking like they would be of any use to him.

The room was largely empty, Lindhart was in his usual corner pouring over some tome about crests while Lysithea was leafing through a huge volume of what looked like complicated magic at another desk. There were also two monks, on duty to lend a hand and sign books out if required, but they hailed from the Kingdom initially and only really tolerated his presence (with near continuous scrutiny as if expecting him to start setting the place on fire or something), they weren’t going help him out.

Settling on a book of church history, Dedue took it from its position and headed over to a free desk. While it wouldn’t give him any explicit answers, it might have hints and clues if he looked between the lines a little. He slowly worked his way through the pages, only looking up when Fenrir gave a short, low growl from his position at his feet, to see Ingrid standing nearby staring at him.

Her staring wasn’t anything new, she often watched him with suspicion whenever they were in the same area, and he wasn’t surprised to learn that she considered him and anyone from Duscur to be the enemy. Picking up on her dislike of his master, Fenrir always took the opportunity to growl and bare his teeth at her when he could, and when she’d muttered some racist remarks about him, he was sure Fenrir was the one to rip up some of her uniforms when she wasn’t looking. There was no evidence, but the wolf had looked just a little too innocent when it was brought up.

Regardless, seeking him out was different, and she clearly wasn’t here for the books since she was obviously staring at him.

“Do you need something?”

She glowered slightly, but responded curtly, “There have been reports of people disappearing in Lord Kleiman’s territory.”

“Kleiman? Isn’t that the lord who now rules over Duscur?”

Dedue didn’t respond, but knew that Diablos was right, and he had a suspicion of what Ingrid was considering.

“And you think I might know something about it?”

“Well, the area is what was once Duscur.”

Dedue sighed, “Contary to popular belief, being from Duscur originally does not mean I have full knowledge of what happens there, especially since I had left the country long before the tragedy occurred.”

She snorted, “And why should I believe your word alone?”

The boy shook his head, “Considering that I have been with my class or within the confines of the monastery during my whole time here, I do not see how I could be a part of, nor orchestrate anything within Lord Kleiman’s territory, which is what you seem to be implying.”

“Yet these disappearances occur after someone from Duscur enrols at the academy, at the same time as his Highness. The timing is suspicious.”

“Only because you wish to make it that way.” Dedue folded his arms, “Have you ever considered the fact that the majority of Duscur’s people had neither knowledge nor connection to the death of your king? Unless you truly believe that every person in an entire nation was aware of and knowingly complicit in the murder of the king, his family, and a dozen knights.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Say what you will, I know you people have no honour.” With those parting words, she walked out, but Dedue resigned himself to increased scrutiny from her.

“Seriously, how can anyone with a semblance of a brain not see the hypocrisy and foolishness of the Kingdom? Bigotry towards what is different is truly a powerful force.”

Dedue frowned but didn’t answer, what Ingrid told him playing on his mind.

He couldn’t help but feel uneasy about people disappearing in Kleiman’s territory. While he felt no desire to avenge his people (frankly, he’d have to kill nearly every kingdom knight to achieve that) others would. If a survivor of Duscur was behind the disappearances, then it could lead to another purge of whatever other survivors were left, including him.

That and he felt that it was bigger than a few disappearances.

Chapter Text

Blue Sea Moon, Imperial Year 1180

“Raphael, it seems Hubert is heading your way.”

At Alexander’s warning the boy looked up from the tactics book he was studying (while book study wasn’t his favourite, he did what he had to for lessons) and saw that the dark mage was indeed heading his direction.

To be honest, he and Alexander had been expecting this. Hubert had been very interested when he revealed that Lord Essar had held him captive and was likely to want to more, not surprising since it was something of a common secret that Hubert’s role was to do all the shady stuff for Edelgard as her vassal. Information was a key part of his duties that Hubert took very seriously.

Raphael’s current friends/bodyguards were Lysithea and Annette, and he noticed the younger girl tense and watch Hubert warily as he sat across the desk from where they were sitting.

“Ah, Raphael. I was hoping to ask you some questions.”

The dark mage’s tone was as mildly creepy as always and between that, his oddly pale skin, and clearly meant-to-be-evil-looking way he wore his uniform, the boy wondered if Hubert enjoyed making people uncomfortable, maybe he was actually a vampire!

“I very much doubt that.” Alexander commented on Raphael’s thoughts, “Though he is dressed for the part, I’ll give you that one.”

Focusing on said mage, the boy answered Hubert, “What questions?”

“About Lord Essar, and his involvement with your…kidnapping.”

“I don’t like that pause, I think he believes there’s more to your story, be careful.”

His Aeon’s warning in his head, Raphael nodded, “Okay.”

Hubert smiled, but it wasn’t warm, “Thank you.” He launched straight into his questions, though it seemed closer to a subtle interrogation than just some questions.

“Firstly, how much did you see of Lord Essar, you seem confident that he was involved?”

Raphael thought for a moment, “Well, I was taken from the Alliance to an isolated manor in the Empire, I was there a few days then Lord Essar showed up. He left again pretty quickly; I think he was checking they got the right person. It was then a couple of weeks before I saw him again, he stayed longer this time, I think because he and those mages worked out my fitness regime and he wanted to make sure it was going well. After that I only saw him occasionally, whenever he’d come to check up on my progress, beyond that it was mostly the mage overseeing me, and the couple of staff and guards around.”

“I see, so Lord Essar left things in the hands of the unusual mages.”

“Mostly.” Raphael shrugged, “I guess he couldn’t oversee things personally very much because he was a noble, it probably would’ve been suspicious if he regularly disappeared to an isolated manor. Dedue said that even locals only had rumours about people being in it.”

“That would make sense, Lord Essar would not have wanted anyone to know about him being involved with abduction and child experimentation, especially since you came from the Alliance initially.” He looked thoughtful, “Though it was more likely the kidnapping aspect he was concerned with.”

The mage’s keen eyes regarded him once more, “And what was the regime the mage initiated?”

“Be careful how you answer little one.”

Again, Alexander gave warning, and Raphael responded, using some of the suggestions the Aeon gave him, “Mostly building up strength and stamina. I had exercises in the morning, then a bit of free time after lunch, then more exercises in the afternoon, then it was dinner and that was basically it. I was allowed to roam the manor in my free time, but I couldn’t go into the grounds without permission, and since it was just me and the few responsible for me, there wasn’t much about the house either.” The boy scratched his head, “They were building up my physical body, to increase my chances of surviving their ‘enhancing procedures’, at least that’s what Dedue overheard them talking about.”

“I see.” Hubert’s eye narrowed nearly imperceptibly, indicating he didn’t quite believe the answer, “And why did Lord Essar, or the mages, choose you for their potential enhancements?”

“This is going to be trickier.”

Raphael hesitated, “I’m not sure, they never really said what they were planning, and I’ve never thought about why they picked me…” He trailed off, Hubert leaning forward, clearly looking for something more, and a flash of inspiration struck.

“Hey, do you think they picked me because of my unstable magic draw?”

Briefly caught off-guard, Hubert blinked in slight surprise, “Your what?”

“Unstable magic draw.” Raphael looked at him in surprise, “You didn’t know?” He smiled, “Basically, when we did the compulsory Magical Basics class, we found out that if I try to use magic, it blows up because me drawing in magic is unstable.”

“Oh, I remember Sylvain telling me about that!” Annette (who’d also been watching the conversation intently) cut in, “I never thought about it being the reason for your kidnapping!”

Raphael posed his 'theory', “So maybe my body reacts to magic differently or something, and that’s what they needed for their ‘enhancements’.”

Annette, fired by this potential theory, spoke excitedly, “Maybe, hey Lysithea. Do we think we could look into this, maybe find some similar theories or ideas that other people came up with?”

The younger girl nodded, her mind clearly considering the possibilities, “Yes, maybe we should. I never thought of there being a connection.”

“Let’s go then!” The redhead, fired by her enthusiasm, bounced to her feet and gathered her things, “C’mon Raphael, you can study in the library while we look at possible answers, and help us out when you can.”

As she zipped off towards the library, Lysithea also jumped up, hastily gathering up her things as well, “Annette, wait!”

Raphael gave an apologetic nod to Hubert, “Sorry, but I really need to go with them, if only to stop Lorenz getting upset at Annette for leaving me behind.”

Unusually taken aback by the sudden turn of events, the dark mage merely nodded, “Of course.”

With a smile, the boy gathered his stuff and hurried off, as he ran after Annette (who’d now just tripped over her own feet in her haste), Alexander spoke to him, pride clear in his voice.

“Little one, that was a very good move, coming up with that ‘theory’.”

Dedue was quietly looking over another book about Charon in the library (and receiving little knowledge, as usual), when Annette burst in, Lysithea and Raphael following behind. As the redhead began scouring the shelves, talking excitedly to her younger companion as she did so, Raphael gave the startled Tomas an apologetic nod and joined Dedue at his table.

Lorenz, who’d been a little further down the same table, addressed the excited Annette, “What are doing?”

She spun round and saw him, her eyes lighting up as she did so, “Lorenz, perfect! We need your help with something.” She spotted some of the others present in the library and quickly addressed them, “You too Merce, Lindhart…Oh! Dorothea and Marianne, you’ll be a big help as well.”

Effectively pressganged into assisting by the eager Annette, the mages of three classes were soon gathered around the one table, pouring over multiple magic books and discussing at great length various thoughts and theories. Bewildered by the sudden surge of activity, Dedue looked to Raphael for explanation.

“What happened?”

In as much detail as possible, the younger boy related his conversation (interrogation) with Hubert. Once he’d finished, Dedue’s brow creased with worry, “So Hubert is looking deeper into things. I’m not sure that’s particularly good.”

Raphael nodded, “I think we gave him enough to satisfy for the moment, and my ‘theory’ certainly threw him.” He glanced at the mages on the next table, where it seemed Dorothea and Lorenz had entered a, still quiet, but slightly heated debate, “I mean, it’ll at least keep those guys occupied for a while.”

“Still, we need to be careful. Hubert isn’t going to let things lie.” Dedue’s also glanced at the next table (where Annette and Lysithea were staring so closely at a book, that their noses were nearly touching it), “That being said, if they come up further evidence of your theory’s possibility, it might distract him.”

“Here’s hoping.” Raphael glanced around him, before speaking once more, “So, any luck with looking into Charon?”

The older boy shook his head, “No, any books on the subject simply cover the same basic points. From what I hear, the church strictly checks every book entering the library, removing any they deem ‘unsuitable’.”

“So, if any of them deviate from the church’s version of things, they’re not here?” The younger boy questioned.

“Indeed.”

Raphael sighed, “This really isn’t getting us anywhere. I mean, I get that the church hates Scions, but I thought they’d have something, even if it was just a long list of their supposed ‘evil deeds’, to act as a warning for the faithful.”

“That’s the weirdest thing.” Dedue answered, “There’s nothing, and not just about Scions, but the Ten Elites as well. There’s no record of when they received their crests, nor what they did after the defeat of Nemesis, and there’s nothing on Scions in history either. No record of a named Scion, no record of any deeds, and apart from a brief mention of Ailell being caused by an Eidolon, nothing else appears, not even which Eidolon caused the valley or why their Scion had them do it.”

“So, if Scions have done basically nothing since the days of Seiros, why does the church continue to make them out to be some sort of beings of destruction and evil. Why does every other country seem to hate them?”

The older boy shook his head, “I do not know.”

This statement covered their situation best, not even Diablos or Alexander could give answers to their questions. Apparently, beyond basic knowledge of summoning magic, as well as speech, their own powers and names, neither Aeon knew anything else. They believed that if they had had different Scions previously, they likely lost their memories of that time upon that Scion’s death, meaning that if they had been around in the past, they no longer remembered what occurred there.

Dedue looked thoughtful, “In Duscur, legend says that Scions were once regarded by people as champions of the gods, however, they grew corrupt, and waged a war that nearly destroyed the entire land. Since then, they have been treated with suspicion at best.”

“Do you think that war is the reason?”

At Raphael’s question, Dedue nodded, “Possibly, at least, I think we need to step away from history, and delve into folklore, the more obscure, the better.” He looked up, “We have a free day tomorrow, maybe we should head into town and see if we can find some books of fairy tales or legends.”

It turned into quite a party heading down into town the next day.

It seemed that several members of the classes also had business to attend to on their day off. With various people needing or wanting to shop, Lorenz and Ferdinand had apparently been running their tea supplies down a fair amount, Mercedes wanted some more ingredients for her baking, Claude claimed general curiosity and Leonie and Ignatz had apparently been asked to help get supplies for their class by Byleth, who was also accompanying them. In short, there were a lot of them heading down into town that day, especially adding in those who were coming because they felt like it, rather than for any particular reason.

As the large group noisily left the monastery gates and headed down, Raphael and Dedue found themselves accompanied by Ashe and Dimitri. While the archer chatted away happily, the prince was quiet, and somewhat awkward. Regardless, the main group soon separated into smaller parties, each going their separate ways, and the four boys headed in the direction of the main market.

While their main aim was the various stalls which sold books, they also needed other things too, such as quills, ink, and other materials for their lessons, so they browsed various other stalls as they went. Soon Raphael was distracted by one of the meat stalls and he dived off dragging Ashe with him, leaving Dedue behind with Dimitri, the older boy sighed, and shook his head fondly, and continued on his way towards the bookstall he’d spotted, the prince quietly tagging behind.

He glanced back, the silence feeling awkward, and then spoke, “Dimitri?”

The prince jolted in surprise, though likely not from the use of his first name. Dedue knew the prince insisted on others forgoing his title at the Academy, so it seemed it was more the fact he was addressing the prince.

Dimitri answered, “Yes, Dedue?”

Dedue sighed, “You seem to have been avoiding me since our sparring match when I first arrived.”

The boy had noticed this, initially, he thought it was because Dimitri didn’t want to be seen associating with someone from Duscur or had felt embarrassed about being beaten by said Duscan. However, he now felt that the prince’s reluctance to be near him wasn’t due to the usual racism of Faerghus, but instead some other issue.

“I’m sorry.”

While confirming Dedue’s suspicions, the short answer didn’t really explain why it was the case.

“Do you avoid me because I’m from Duscur?”

“No, I mean, yes…but not for the reason you think!” The prince sighed, “Dedue, do you not hate Faerghus for what we did to your people?”

“Now that’s a loaded question.”

Ignoring Diablos’ comment, Dedue thought very carefully before answering.

Did he hate Faerghus? They did attempt to wipe out his entire race just because of a single assassination, he’d not been there, but he knew enough to know that the purge would’ve been brutal. He couldn’t imagine the cries, the screams of children as knights slaughtered them alongside their parents, punishing an entire nation for the act of a few, who may not have even been from Duscur.

To be honest, he always felt his gut clench uncomfortably whenever he heard someone talking about the ‘honour’ of the Faerghus knights. Where was the ‘honour’ in annihilating an entire people for the deaths of a dozen or so? Diablos wasn’t wrong to call it hypocrisy, but where did that tie into hating the whole kingdom?

In all honesty, he got on just fine with many of the Blue Lions, Ingrid hated him, Felix seemed to dislike everyone, and other students always gauged him with suspicion, but others like Sylvain and Mercedes had no issues with him, and in all honesty, was the entire kingdom responsible? Truthfully, no, it was the knights who performed the actual slaughter, though you could say that the people didn’t stop them, and probably cheered them on.

“No, I don’t believe I do.”

Dimitri stared at him in shock, “How could you not hate us!? The kingdom destroyed Duscur, though they were innocent.” He looked down in shame, “And I couldn’t stop them, though I knew Duscur wasn’t to blame.”

Dedue spoke carefully, “Dimitri, I ask you. What would hating Faerghus achieve?”

“Achieve?”

“Nothing.” The boy explained firmly, “Hating an entire nation is what led to Duscur being destroyed. If I were to hate all of Faerghus, and attempt to punish them for Duscur, then I would be guilty of the same hypocrisy.”

Dimitri gazed at him, clearly thrown by what he was hearing, “I do not understand…”

“To seek revenge would only make me like the knights who killed my people.” Dedue looked down, “That being said, I do not forgive the kingdom, nor the knights.”

“I see.” The prince looked away, “I apologise for bringing it up, and I’ll understand if you wish to keep your distance.”

“There is no need for that.”

“What!?”

Dedue sighed at the boy’s confusion, “Dimitri, you were a child at the time, why should I blame and punish you for what was beyond your control?”

“Because I should’ve done more, I should’ve stopped them…”

“And how would you have achieved that?” Dedue halted the prince’s self-blame, “Prince or not, you were a child. The people responsible would’ve acted, no matter what you said or did, I do not blame you for Duscur.”

“Dedue…” Dimitri sighed, and gave a small smile, “Thank you.”

With their tense conversation over, they continued to look through the market.

Though Dimitri remained quiet, it seemed more because he was considering what Dedue said, not because he felt awkward or unwelcome. Ashe and Raphael more than made up for the prince’s silence, chatting away as Ashe told Raphael all about the various stories of chivalrous knights he’d read, recommending several books as they continued their search. They had found some books of folklore and tales, but most were basic, or children’s books, not exactly what they were looking for. Then, Dedue spotted something very out of place, but very familiar.

Duscan script.

He hadn’t truly seen it in years, but he recognised the writing of his people anywhere, and his mind boggled at how it had survived and then ended up here. Drawn to it, he went straight over and carefully lifted it from its position on the stall, his world crashing to a halt as he recognised the worn cover.

It was his father’s records.

He remembered the book well, it was a family heirloom, a record of every Aeon his family knew of and had encountered, passing it on down the generations, each Scion of the family filling in more knowledge gained as they grew and learned about their Aeon and power.

He’d been able to take the records with him when he was exiled, and he assumed the book had been destroyed, how’d it ended up here? He swiftly leafed through the pages, reaching the last couple of entries.

Faerie, his father’s Aeon.

She’d granted him powerful healing magic, and Dedue remembered her from his first lessons in using his powers, her playful personality and how she teased his father mercilessly, aided and abetted by his mother. His father had been so passionate about Aeons, proud of the power his family carried, and proud of him.

Temporarily lost in memory, Dedue didn’t realise that tears had begun to fall, not until Raphael gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Dedue?”

The older boy turned, and seeing the tears, and the writing inside the book, his eyes lit up in understanding, and he spoke again, choosing to speak in Duscan. Dedue had taught his native tongue to the other boy, and they’d sometimes use it when they could.

“Is it important to you?”

Dedue nodded gently.

“It was my father’s.”

The younger boy grinned.

“Then we’ll get it!”

Before he could thank him, Dimitri gently cut in, “Dedue.”

As he looked at him in confusion, the prince smiled, “I’ve already settled a price, you can take the book.”

“Dimitri.”

“I know enough to recognise the script as Duscan.” The other boy explained, “It wouldn’t be right to let you pay for something that’s rightfully yours.”

Dedue stared at him in surprise, then smiled and nodded gratefully, “Thank you, Dimitri.”

The moment he returned to the monastery, Dedue wasted no time going through his family’s records, Raphael joining him.

Many Aeons could be found inside, most detailing the form their mark took on their Scion, though some detailing more about the magic they granted. As well as Faerie, Diablos was also found within, most of the writing on his pages written by Dedue’s father. It seemed that his ancestors had only really known the Aeon’s name, symbol and the magic type they granted, his father had then added in the details that he’d discovered as Dedue grew up, such as a drawing of the Aeon, and the names of some of the spells he granted. Seeing information missing, the boy made a note to fill in what he’d learned since and scanning through also revealed that Alexander had no pages yet, so he also planned to create some, with Raphael’s help.

Sat beside him, Raphael commented in wonder.

“That looks really detailed.” He then scratched his head, “Though I can’t read it, so I’m guessing that.”

Dedue glanced at him, that was right, he’d taught the other boy how to speak Duscan, but never to read or write it (though Raphael knew enough to recognise script when he saw it). Well, he had good reason now.

He pointed out different lines on the page, “Its basically a record of Aeons written by my family. Over the generations, they added whatever information they found, so some things are more detailed than others. For example, there are a few Aeons whom they only knew the name of, while others have information on their appearance, symbol, all the spells they grant, and so on.”

In his head, Diablos gave a noise of approval.

“I’m impressed, your family were as thorough as they could be. Considering the complete lack of books on the subject, this is probably the most complete source of information on Aeons on the continent.”

Still staring at the book, Raphael mused aloud, “I wonder if Charon is in here?”

“I’ll check.”

Dedue began searching through the pages, eventually coming to a set with limited information.

“Here he is, but there’s not much about him.”

For Raphael’s benefit, he began reading the page aloud.

“Charon, though I’ve only encountered stories of him, I know is considered a Grand Aeon. Like others of his rank, he requires additional work to become tied to a Scion. I do not know what rituals or tasks are required of the Scion who wants his power, but from my research, that is likely for the best. When I heard of his magic, I could barely believe it, how could anything pervert it in such a fashion? However, it remains consistent throughout my research, so I must treat it as the most likely truth.

Necromancy, that is the magic he grants.

Why the gods would allow such a magic to remain, I do not know, but I am glad that the way to his power remains lost. For it is not just his magic that is corrupt, but Charon himself, it is common in all his stories that he looks for those filled with hate, that yearn to inflict horror and pain upon many, for that is Charon’s wish as well.

However, for some reason I cannot fathom, Charon shares his name with one of F ό dlan’s Ten Elites of history. Though the stories of Charon the Elite are older than the stories of Charon the Grand Aeon, I cannot help but feel they are linked. My suspicions only grew when I discovered the mark Charon leaves upon his Scion, for it indeed matches the Crest of Charon, so prized in F ό dlan.

What this means, I do not know, but I warn my descendants, and indeed any Scion, do not seek Charon’s power, for he is no friend of this world.”

Beneath the words, sat the symbol of Charon, which was indeed a match to the Crest of Charon. In silence, the two boys contemplated the words before them, and what they could possibly mean.

Eventually, Raphael spoke, “So, the Aeon Charon, is linked to the Ten Elite Charon?”

“It would seem so.”

The younger boy’s forehead crinkled in thought, “But, how? Are the Ten Elites actually all Aeons, that got remembered as heroes?”

Dedue frowned, “I do not think so, the Elites passed their crests onto their descendants, but Aeons can’t have descendants. Also, the people with crests cannot be Scions themselves, an Aeon’s symbol appears on the skin, but a crest needs specific equipment to identify, plus, an Aeon can’t be bonded to more than one person at a time, and we have multiple people bearing the same crest, even within Garreg Mach.”

“But how can the crest and Charon’s symbol be exactly the same?”

“I do not know, that alone suggests a link, but don’t know what the link could be.”

Raphael looked down at the book again, “This doesn’t make sense, but your ancestor can’t be lying, and we know the church is careful about what information their books contain, so…”

“So, they must be keeping secrets and hiding parts of history.” Dedue finished.

Raphael looked up at him, worry in his eyes.

“So, what is the church trying to hide?”

“What are you doing, what is this!?”

The man struggled against his bonds, yelling at the figure above him. In response, the figure spoke scornfully.

“This is your retribution, the punishment for all of Faerghus, for that land of hypocrites and murderers. I will bring about such horror and calamity, that none shall survive, and your kingdom will become a land of shadows and fear.”

Sweating with terror, the bound man pleaded desperately, “Please, I have a family, we’re just farmers, we had nothing to do with Duscur! We’re just a farming family that can barely make ends meet on the poor land we’re given!”

The figure raised a knife above his victim.

“That does not matter. As all of Duscur was forced to suffer, all of Faerghus shall suffer. Just be glad that you die before the horror that is to come.”

The knife came down.

Chapter Text

Blue Sea Moon, Imperial Year 1180

The day of the Rite of Rebirth came around swiftly, temporarily changing their focus from the mysteries of Charon to the more pressing mission.

In preparation for the day, Byleth had organised various training missions between the different classes, getting them used to working with students of other houses before the actual event. The main team consisted of several fighters from across the houses, the others acting as back-ups and watchers in other parts of the monastery, this main team’s mission was to stake out the entrance to the Holy Mausoleum, following in anyone who entered when the rite got fully underway.

To no one’s surprise, Dedue and Raphael were on the main team alongside Byleth. They were backed by Mercedes, Lysithea, Claude (who was also acting as Byleth’s second), Petra, Lindhart (who wasn’t missing this chance to see the Mausoleum), Felix and Hubert (whom Dedue was certain was there to also watch how they worked and report back to Edelgard). Since the enemy’s aim was likely to be closer to thievery rather than battle, they assumed they wouldn’t be prepared for intense combat. Regardless, Byleth came prepared with one of the monastery’s messenger owls, to be sent to the other teams so they could follow behind as back up.

Plan in place, they took up positions and waited.

As they lingered in the shadows, Raphael couldn’t help but consider what they’d learned about Charon, how the Aeon was potentially linked to the Charon the Elite. Since discovering this, they’d found little else, none of the other Aeons in Dedue’s book shared a name with one of the Elites, and the church library wasn’t going to produce much of use either, leaving them with more questions than answers, but a thought had been bothering him, and he took this moment to consult his Aeon.

“Alexander?”

His voice was barely a whisper, but the Aeon responded, “Yes little one?”

“Where do you Aeons come from?”

“Come from?”

“Yeah, I’ve wondered for a while.” The boy explained, “I mean, humans are born right, so how is an Aeon ‘born’?”

“Now that…” The Alexander hesitated, “Now that is a very good question.”

“You don’t know?”

The Aeon’s reply was tinged with thought, “No, in fact the earliest time I can remember is when you first summoned me. However, we Aeons must all have some sort of origin point. Why do you ask little one?”

Raphael explained his thoughts, “Well, we know Charon was one of the Ten Elites, and that there is also an Aeon called Charon as well. However, stories of the Aeon only start after the Elite, so what if they’re one and the same? Like, Charon somehow became an Aeon at some point.”

“That is indeed a fascinating thought.” Alexander responded, his voice sounding impressed, “The timings as we know them do work, maybe all Aeons were people before becoming what we are now…”

A familiar magical presence interrupted the conversation, and Raphael readied for action, seeing a group of armed intruders, led by a mage in familiar robes descend the steps to the mausoleum. As planned, they gave it a bit of time before following, planning to trap them within the mausoleum and work out what they actually wanted, but soon, they descended after them.

Thanks to their pre-planning, and Byleth’s leadership, they scored yet another victory.

As expected, the intruders hadn’t been fully prepared for a full-on assault from the students, nor had they realised the competency of said students. However, Dedue couldn’t shake the feeling that things would’ve been far more difficult if the mysterious ‘Death Knight’ had joined the battle. For some reason, the skull-masked knight simply sat upon his horse, watching the battle unfold, they’d heard the mage try to command him, but the knight seemed to believe that fighting them was beneath him. As per Byleth’s orders, they avoided fighting him, and it appeared he was content to merely observe as long as they didn’t engage him directly. In the end, he disappeared magically when their student reinforcements, closely followed by Catherine, came down the stairs after them, just after Byleth cut down the lead mage with the strange sword that’d been in the casket that should’ve held the remains of Seiros.

With Catherine rounding up the last of the intruders, and the Archbishop personally thanking them all for their actions, the mission was a success, but what happened afterwards concerned him.

“Wait, executed!”

Claude nodded, “Yeah, those involved were sentenced to death for their crimes, including inciting Lord Lonato to rebel. Lady Rhea passed the judgement herself.”

“That seems harsh for such a quick trial.” Raphael stated, “I mean, it feels like she just decided they were guilty and passed judgement.”

“It’s a fair judgement.” Marianne said with conviction, “Going against the church in such a manner is like going against the Goddess.”

“But still…”

“Either way, it’s not our decision.” Claude concluded, “I think our main concern should be what they were after in the first place. It seemed like they weren’t expecting the sword to be in the casket. The mage was definitely surprised when he found it there.” The house leader smiled slightly, “And what’s more, Rhea has given it to Teach to use.”

“Seriously!” Leonie frowned, “Why would they leave it her hands? Isn’t it very valuable if they went to such lengths to hide it in the first place?”

Claude shrugged, “You’d think so, but I guess the Archbishop decided to leave it with Teach since she’s capable of wielding it.”

Dedue frowned, “That sword is a relic weapon isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Lysithea answered, “Apparently it’s called the Sword of the Creator, at least according to the rumours I’ve heard.”

“And those rumours are right.” Claude affirmed, “Legend claims that the blade once was used by Nemesis.”

Dedue was still frowning, “Don’t relics require crest stones? The sword doesn’t have one.”

Claude’s grin grew, “So you noticed that, huh?” He also looked thoughtful, “All the other relics have crest stones, but the Sword of the Creator doesn’t, yet it seems to work just fine in Teach’s hands, it glows and everything.”

He smiled again, “Anyway, I’m sure Teach will soon tell us what next month’s mission is, in the meantime, good work everyone.”

“The Sword of the Creator was within the casket; however, the crest stone had already been removed.”

Arundel, a lord of the Empire merely nodded, “Unsurprising, it wouldn’t make sense to keep both in the same place after all.”

The other figure, masked and wearing armour and robes continued, “However, the new professor was able to wield it.”

“They were?” Now this surprised the lord, “Without a crest stone that shouldn’t be possible.”

“Regardless, the sword glowed.” The masked figure affirmed, “The church has let the professor to continue using it.”

Arundel frowned, “What is that woman thinking? Leaving such a thing in the hands of a mercenary?”

“I do not have enough information on the professor to act.” The masked one stated, “But I will continue to keep an eye on them.”

The lord nodded, “If that is your decision, then so be it.”

The other figure continued, “And with regards to your request, I assent. The Death Knight is yours to command, use him well.”

“Thank you Flame Emperor, your generosity is appreciated.”

With a single nod, the masked figure warped away, leaving Arundel alone. However, he addressed the shadows.

“Solon, what are your thoughts on the matter?”

A hunched and twisted man emerged from the shadows, no doubt where he’d been watching from the beginning, and answered dismissively, “No doubt the so called ‘Archbishop’ has some form of scheme in mind. She shows a degree of favouritism to this new professor, having Jeralt re-join the Knights of Seiros and grant places at the academy to his two surrogate sons in an effort to keep her at the monastery.”

“So, you believe there is more to this ‘professor’ then meets the eye?”

“Yes, their appointment was suspicious enough, but granting them the Sword of the Creator and sending their class on missions that are unusual for the academy speaks of deeper goals.”

“I see.” Arundel then nodded, “For now we will merely observe.” He looked to Solon in askance, “And what of our other project?”

At this, Solon grinned, “It seems that the boy’s escape five years ago has actually worked in our favour. His building of strength over these years has actually rendered the need for our planned enhancements obsolete.”

The lord visibly perked up at this, “You believe he is ready for the transplant procedures?”

The twisted mage spoke confidently, “I do. He will make a prime vessel for the crests. Our previous experiments revealed that while crest bearers can indeed carry multiple crests, the crests themselves will conflict, shortening the bearer’s lifespan. However, if someone could bear all crests, then balance would be maintained between them. As a summoner, his body is already used to carrying immense power, adding crests would be a mere drop in the bucket when compared to an Eidolon.”

Arundel looked pleased at Solon’s words, “While we are missing one particular crest, it should be easy enough to obtain for the procedures, and if we time things correctly with the so called ‘Flame Emperor’s’ plans, we can deal with multiple concerns at once.”

Solon nodded in agreement, “Indeed, and with your permission, I can begin preparations to both acquire the last crest source and the boy for the procedures.” He grinned, “Once they are complete, might I suggest we arrange a test of the results on our growing problem in Duscur.”

The lord smiled approvingly, “An interesting proposal, not only would our ‘problem’ be dealt with, but we may do so in a way that does not risk tipping our hand. Leaving the church floundering around trying to cope with it would also lead to further weakening of the Kingdom, not that is particularly strong anymore to begin with.” He nodded decisively, “I approve, proceed with your plan.”

Solon bowed, “Of course.” He chuckled sinisterly, “That woman and her church have no clue what they are dealing with. She believes the crests to be the bars of the cell, in truth they are the keys and like all keys, they can open, or lock the prison.”

Verdant Moon, Imperial Year 1180

“Raphael!”

Dedue received no response to his call, and he couldn’t help but feel his worry build.

He’d entered Raphael’s room that morning to wake him up as normal, but the younger boy hadn’t been there. Thinking he’d simply woken up earlier than him for once, he’d headed to the dining hall, only to find it devoid of Raphael as well. The other students there hadn’t seen him either, and the cooks also confirmed he hadn’t been by to eat. Dedue had then begun to search the areas where Raphael would usually be only to come up empty. He wasn’t training, he wasn’t in the classroom studying, nor the library, he wasn’t with any of the other students and none of them had seen him that morning.

In the end he’d resorted to wandering around calling the other boy’s name, to no avail.

“Dedue!”

He turned to see a frantic looking Seteth, who wasted no time speaking to him, “Have you seen Flayn?”

Dedue shook his head, “No.”

Seteth wrung his hands, “I’ve looked everywhere for her, but no one has seen her.”

“I do not like the sound of this. It sounds too familiar to our issue with Raphael.” Diablos noted.

Dedue frowned, “Raphael has also disappeared, I cannot find him either and no one else has seen him.”

The man’s eyes widened, “What, Raphael is also missing. Perhaps we should search together then.”

Despite their best efforts, they found no trace of either Flayn nor Raphael, and Seteth was soon barging straight in to speak to Rhea, his worry overruling his usual respect of etiquette.

With Seteth swiftly explaining the situation, the Archbishop frowned.

“So, both Flayn and Raphael have disappeared. I doubt that this is merely coincidence.”

Seteth was frantic, “I can’t think where they could be! There’s been rumours of this Death Knight in town, if Flayn has been taken by someone like that…”

“Seteth, calm yourself!” Rhea continued in a softer tone, “I think of your sister as family as well, we’ll do all we can to ensure that both Flayn and Raphael are brought back safely.”

She addressed Byleth, with whom she’d been meeting with before Seteth burst in, dragging Dedue with him, “Professor, I will put Catherine and the knights on your mission for this month. They will be able to deal with Miklan and the retrieval of the Lance of Ruin. Instead, I would like you and your students to assist in the search for Flayn and Raphael. I have no doubt that your concerns would be more on the search than anything else anyway. Do not hesitate to work with the other houses as well, it served you well last month and I see no reason it will not work again.

Though it was for merely a moment, Dedue was sure he saw concern fall across her face at the mention of Raphael’s disappearance, to then be replaced with determination as Rhea gave her instructions. She nodded in response as the Archbishop dismissed her and gave Dedue a meaningful look, silently instructing him to follow her out.

The moment they’d left the audience chamber, Byleth turned to him, “Dedue, find as many of the students that helped last month as possible and tell them to meet in the Golden Deer classroom tomorrow morning. I will speak with Professor Manuela and Professor Hanneman and ask the same of them.”

“Yes professor.”

Raphael tugged at the bonds around his wrists and grunted into his gag in frustration.

He remembered an armoured knight bearing down on him the night before (at least he thought it was the night before) and barely getting the chance to defend himself before being knocked unconscious. He then had blurred memories of coming to, only to be sent unconscious again by an unnatural sleepiness until he finally awoke properly to find himself bound and gagged in an unknown chamber somewhere underground (at least he thinks its underground).

The barred iron door in front of him grated as someone slid across what sounded like a bolt and swung open with a squeaky-creaking sound. A twisted and hunched man entered, his unnatural black eyes appraising him with something akin to excitement.

“Ah, as I expected. You have a heavy resistance to magically induced sleep. It took a lot of repeated casts to keep you under long enough to bring you here, no doubt you’ll have the same resistance to the silence spell. Gagging you was indeed the wisest option.”

Raphael glowered; the man wasn’t wrong. Despite the differences between mage magic and summoning magic, they shared a common weakness in that not being able to speak rendered their users unable to cast spells.

The man moved closer, continuing his examination as his hand briefly glowed, and he nodded as if confirming something, “Good, it seems I was correct in my judgement that our planned enhancements are now unnecessary. Once we have what we require from the girl, the procedure can continue as planned.”

Raphael’s mind raced, there was a girl here? Was she a captive like him, and what was this ‘procedure’ this man was talking about?

His captor smiled, “Good to know that the two and a half years you spent in our care were not wasted.”

The boy’s eyes widened, of course this guy was connected to the mages who’d held him captive before, and in his head, Alexander spoke.

“If I were to guess, I believe this man is some sort of higher-ranked member of the group. Stay strong little one.”

He may not be able to call upon his power, but Raphael took comfort from Alexander still being present. The man smiled in satisfaction.

“Things are certainly going well.”

Once again, students crowded into the Golden Deer classroom, this time with Byleth and the other two professors sat in the middle of the gathering.

The monastery had been scoured the previous day and neither Raphael nor Flayn had been found, nor any evidence of where they went. With it now almost certain that their disappearance was no accident, knights had been dispatched to look beyond the monastery grounds, and Dedue knew that Jeralt was leading the search and had sent his mercenary company out on the hunt as well. The students had officially been assigned the task of searching the monastery once more but no doubt Byleth had called this meeting to approach the situation from a different angle.

For his part, Dedue was filled with the nervous energy of worry, he couldn’t rest at all the night before, and if it hadn’t been for Jeralt basically ordering him to bed, he’d have continued the search all through the night. Now, he couldn’t help but fidget anxiously, though he was trying his best to focus and calm down, knowing that would be far more helpful towards finding Raphael.

Byleth wasted no time opening the discussion.

“Now, we all know that Flayn and Raphael have disappeared, and we’ve been ordered to search the monastery again. However, I believe we need to work out why they were taken in the first place in order to find them.”

Everyone noted how Byleth had said ‘taken’ like it was fact rather than a theory, but no one particularly believed that there was any other possibility. Edelgard was the one to speak up first.

“Firstly, we should ask why Flayn and Raphael would be targeted.”

Claude, who’d no doubt been considering possibilities since he first heard the news, swiftly gave a suggestion.

“Well, we know that the same mage group that worked with the Western Church also kidnapped Raphael when he was a child. It’s likely it’s the same group looking to finish the ‘enhancements’ they’d planned back then. Though I don’t see how Flayn fits in, unless she just happened to be a witness of Raphael’s kidnapping, so they took her as well.”

Hanneman adjusted his glasses, “Well, Flayn does carry the Major Crest of Cethleann, but, while rare, it is not unique, making kidnapping her from the monastery a very risky plan.”

“Unless they decided that since they were targeting Raphael anyway, they may as well take Flayn at the same time.” Claude countered, “Though that does leave the question of why they need the Crest of Cethleann.”

Hubert spoke up from his position behind Edelgard, “Annette, I know you were looking into a possible connection between Raphael’s unstable magic draw and possible goals of the mages. Did you uncover anything?”

The red-haired girl shook her head, “Not really. While there have been instances of people’s magic draw being unstable, its not a very common thing. Plus, we can’t find any example of someone’s magic draw being as unstable as Raphael’s.”

Manuela sighed, “So that still leaves us with the question of why they’d both be targeted. To be honest, there isn’t much to connect them.”

“Maybe they’re planning to transplant Flayn’s crest into Raphael.” Lysithea quietly mentioned, as eyes fell on her, she explained further. “I mentioned before that I’ve seen the mages Raphael encountered before. That’s because they’re the reason I have two crests, maybe they’re trying to somehow put a crest in someone who doesn’t have one.”

Hanneman frowned, “If that’s the case, then it makes sense that they’d need someone who already has it in order to transplant it to someone who does not. However, why choose Flayn, if they just want to transplant a crest, why not use another crest bearer who is easier to get a hold of? Unless they particularly want the Crest of Cethleann.”

Manuela, “While I get understanding what they’re after is important, surely we should be more focused on working out where those kids have been taken? I don’t want to think about how horrible any form of experimentation on them could be.”

Dimitri nodded, “That is true, finding them in time should be our main focus.”

Mercedes spoke up, “Okay, but where do we start? The monastery has already been searched.”

“Not necessarily.” Lindhart put in, “There are many secret passages and unused areas of Garreg Mach. In fact, the original plans drawn up by the architects have long since been lost, so there’s no one these days who actually knows what the entirety of the monastery looks like.”

Claude frowned thoughtfully, “So, they might still be in the monastery, just in an area that everyone has long since forgotten about or is hidden.”

Leonie shook her head, “But where would we start looking, even the areas we know about are sprawling. It could take weeks to carefully scour every area for some sort of secret passage or room.”

“I think its less about finding the place, than finding the people.” Edelgard stated, “To take them from within the monastery, would require someone who already works for the church. That would be the only way they could kidnap them while maintaining anonymity, it would also explain how they could know about a secret area of Garreg Mach.”

“Okay, but who could that be?” Sylvain asked, “Its not like we have a small pool of people to choose from.”

“Well firstly, we can probably count out most of the knights and monks.” Ashe said, “To achieve something like this, they’d have to have some sort of authority to pull it off.”

“Well then, we can also discount Seteth and Rhea for obvious reasons.” Dimitri added. He then nodded at the professors, “And you professors as well. Barring Professor Byleth, you’ve been here for years already, and Professor Byleth, you can also be removed as a suspect for obvious reasons.”

“So, who has a degree of authority and has only joined the monastery recently?” Claude asked, “They seem like a good place to start.”

“Maybe Tomas.” Hilda put forward, “He started here just before the school year began.”

“I don’t think so.” Annette put in, “I mean, he’s pretty old. So, I don’t see how he could overpower someone like Raphael, he’s also worked here in the past.”

“True.” Hilda conceded, “He’d have to get some help to deal with Raphael and having a group of people attack a student isn’t exactly subtle.”

“What about Professor Jeritza?” Felix suggested, “He also started working here recently, and I sensed something…odd in his fighting style. He also would have the skill and strength to subdue Raphael.”

Hanneman frowned thoughtfully, “If I remember correctly, Professor Jeritza was recommended to the academy by Lord Arundel of the Empire, and it is true that he only started just before the school year.”

Manuela was also looking thoughtful, “He does have the skill and strength to capture someone like Raphael, and I’m sure I’ve seen him often disappearing off at night. When you add that to his skill set and those rumours of the Death Knight roaming town, things do seem to add up just a little too well. I mean, he even wears a mask all the time.”

“So, is Jeritza is a suspect?” Byleth asked.

“Well, its worth investigating at least.” Claude answered, “And there was someone referred to as the ‘Death Knight’ in the Mausoleum, but they didn’t fight and simply warped away when things went against the intruders.”

“Let’s not act too quickly.” Byleth advised, “I suggest we keep a close eye on Professor Jeritza for now, and also look into other potential suspects. If we do this wrong, then we could end up putting Flayn and Raphael into greater danger.”

Raphael was cold and uncomfortable.

No one had been in his cell since the man from earlier, and he had no idea how long he’d been a captive. Only that it had been quite some time since he was very hungry and sore from being bound for so long.

By now, he was certain he was underground. The air was stale and cold, causing him to shiver from time to time, and the only light came from a flickering torch beyond the bars of his cell door. Occasionally, a mage or soldier in odd armour would wander past, but none of them paid him any heed, likely certain that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Not that they were wrong in that assumption.

He’d tried to twist his hands out of their bonds several times, but to no avail, and any attempt to get his gag off came to nothing as well. Leaving him resigned to the fact that he wasn’t getting himself out of this.

“Do not fear little one.” Alexander encouraged, “I have no doubt that Dedue, Byleth and Jeralt have noticed your absence. No doubt they are searching for you as we speak, and as a student of the academy, the church also has a duty to find and rescue you. They will be here soon.”

Movement outside his cell attracted his attention, and he saw the man from earlier staring through the bars at him. The man smiled in a way that filled Raphael with fear.

“It’s time to begin.”

Chapter Text

Verdant Moon, Imperial Year 1180

Though they had the beginnings of a plan, Dedue still couldn’t relax, and was once again scouring the monastery after the meeting.

Taking Lindhart’s words about the sprawling monastery into account, he began poking around back corridors and obscure rooms, tapping wall panels and pushing shelves to see if he could locate some lost passage. He was still limited in where he could look, places like living quarters, offices and suchlike were out of bounds unless he had good reason, and since most of them had been searched already, he didn’t have a good excuse to search again.

Unfortunately, the places he could search yielded nothing, and now he was more wandering the monastery out of anxiety than anything else. Eventually, Dimitri dragged him to the training grounds to help him train, but it was clearly just an excuse to try and distract him for a while.

Dimitri’s training lance crashed against Dedue’s shield, causing him to stumble back slightly.

He recovered and swung, forcing the prince to dodge, but Dimitri swiftly countered, dealing him a hefty blow that winded him, ending the spar as he sat heavily on the ground.

“You’re letting yourself get sloppy kid.”

Dimitri blinked in surprise at the newcomer to the training grounds.

“Captain Jeralt.”

The captain strode towards them, leaning down to give Dedue a hand up, “Looks like I’ll have to give you a spar myself, and kick you back into shape.”

Jeralt gave Dimitri a pointed look, and the prince swiftly excused himself, leaving the knight the training lance he’d been using. Readying himself, the man nodded at Dedue.

“When you’re ready.”

Moving into a fighting position, Dedue shot forward, shield front and centre, and swung his training axe. Jeralt easily parried and dealt a light tap with the butt of the lance.

“You’re giving me more openings than usual kid.”

Tightening his defence, Dedue tried to bait the captain into attacking, Jeralt obliged but when the boy attempted to capitalise on it, the man swiftly countered and gave him another tap.

“You’re advertising your intentions too much!”

Again, Dedue dived in for an attack, only to be parried and struck again. This process repeated until Jeralt finally disarmed him, ending the bout.

As the boy panted for breath, the man sighed.

“Dedue, I know how worried you are, but if you keep on like this, then you’re going to be too exhausted and distracted to actually help him.”

Dedue looked down guiltily, knowing full well that Jeralt’s words were true, but still responded, “I know, it’s just, I don’t want to feel like I’m doing nothing.”

“Of course not. You’re Raphael’s surrogate brother, so why would you feel anything else?”

Jeralt glanced down himself, “Believe me, I want to spend every moment right now looking for him, and I’m not going to be satisfied until I’ve seen him safely back with us with my own eyes.” He turned his gaze on Dedue, “However, I’ve got to slow down and think about it, not just roam the place with worry. The rest of the students are looking into this as well, and the lead you have is a possible one, you need to focus and help them as much as they’re helping you.”

He smiled encouragingly, “We’ll find him and Flayn kid.” He then glowered, “And if the ones responsible have hurt one of my boys, you can be damn sure I’ll make them regret it, if Byleth doesn’t get there first.”

Dedue smiled slightly at that, while she seemed blank most of the time, he did remember several times where Byleth had been a little more pointedly ruthless with anyone who’d actually hurt him or Raphael. She certainly cared in her own way.

He looked up at Jeralt, “Thanks Pa.”

The captain smile grew wider at the rare mention of their parental bond. While the company (and now the majority of the monastery) were fully aware that they were basically Jeralt’s adopted kids, they rarely actually referred to him using a fatherly title, mostly out of habit. Occasionally however, it did happen.

Jeralt briefly ruffled his hair, “We’ll find him kid, promise.”

Though heeding Jeralt’s words, Dedue did keep up his own search over the next few days, as well as helping the other students out with their own tasks towards finding Raphael and Flayn.

Sometimes he was with Lindhart and Annette, searching through various books on the monastery to see if they could find any reference to some forgotten area that they could’ve been taken to. Other times he roamed the town with Claude, helping him listen out for rumours and such that might lend some clues, paying particular attention to whisperings of the ‘Death Knight’. Occasionally, he was out searching beyond Garreg Mach with Jeralt’s company, all of them very keen to find Raphael, and once or twice he was helping Hanneman, as the man researched further into Flayn’s crest and the possible reasons for targeting her specifically.

With regards to Jeritza, several of the stealthier students, like Ashe and Petra, were keeping a near constant watch on him. Unfortunately, he hadn’t yet done anything even close to incriminating himself, making them wonder if he was a false lead, and soon, they were holding another meeting.

“I don’t like this. Those poor kids are going through who knows what, and we’re not even close to finding them.”

Hanneman nodding in agreement with her lament, “Indeed, if only we could find something more solid than simple suspicions, as it stands, I can’t find any certain reasons as to why someone would target them in particular.”

Annette slumped in frustration, “And we haven’t anything about forgotten or secret locations in the monastery either. I get that the original architectural plans disappeared, but surely someone thought to try and map the place afterwards.”

“Unfortunately, it seems that the church likes to leave a lot of things a mystery.” Edelgard added.

As the conversation continued, Dedue found himself stroking Fenrir’s head. The wolf hadn’t left his side since Raphael’s disappearance, sticking even closer to him than usual. They’d tried to use his superior sense of smell to track the boy, but the wolf had lost the trail very quickly. Whoever had taken him had likely planned for them trying to use the wolf’s keen nose, which was really unfortunate…

“Squeak!”

A high-pitched squeak interrupted the meeting, and Dedue blinked in surprise at the rat that was now sat on the table in front of him.

Carbuncle.

The boy gaped, Carbuncle hadn’t been seen since Raphael vanished, they’d assumed the rat was still with him (since he stayed at the boy’s side the way Fenrir stuck firmly with Dedue) or was surviving on his own. However, here he was, reappeared and staring up at Dedue expectantly.

“Wait, isn’t that Carbuncle?” Claude asked in bemusement.

Hilda glanced at him, “You mean, Raphael’s pet rat?”

Dedue nodded, “It is, though I haven’t seen him since Raphael vanished, I assumed Carbuncle was still with him.”

“Squeak!”

Carbuncle gave another insistent squeak, and Fenrir placed his head on the table right next to the rat. It looked for all the world like the two animals were having a silent conversation, suddenly, Carbuncle jumped on the wolf’s head and the two of them dived out the door, only pausing for Fenrir to give a commanding growl to the stunned humans.

Without thinking, Dedue was on his feet and running after them.

“Fenrir, wait!”

The wolf didn’t stop, and the boy pursued him, not realising that the students and professors were also following behind. Away from the classroom and through the gardens between the Entrance Hall and the Main Hall the chase went, monks and knights jumping in surprise at the mad dash of Fenrir, Dedue and three professors and many students running after them.

Fenrir left the gardens and made straight for the staff living quarters, bowling a knight over in the doorway and charging straight inside, Dedue leaping the bewildered man to follow. They continued on until the wolf screeched to a halt outside one door and began madly scratching at it, trying to get in.

Dedue reached the pair and attempted to calm Fenrir down.

“This is Jeritza’s room!”

He hadn’t realised that Manuela had arrived right behind him, and he looked up at her as she squared her shoulders.

“I knew he had something to do with this.”

Without hesitation, she barged in the room, “Jeritza, tell me where those kids are or so help me…argh!”

Her furious tirade was abruptly cut off by her cry of pain, and Dedue flung the door open to see the Death Knight, fully armoured, pulling a knife out of Manuela’s body. Before he could react, Fenrir flung himself at the knight, but he seemingly vanished into the wall, barely evading the wolf’s bared fangs.

Just too late, everyone else arrived and Hanneman was immediately at the fallen Manuela’s side, “Professor Manuela!” He looked back and spoke commandingly to Edelgard, “Help me get her to the infirmary, this wound needs more than the little Faith magic you all know.”

The girl obediently complied, the pair sweeping Manuela out of the room. Meanwhile, Dedue had gone to where the Death Knight vanished, and swiftly found the secret passage hidden within the room, he looked to Byleth.

“The Death Knight, he stabbed Professor Manuela and fled down there, that must be where Raphael and Flayn are!”

She nodded in understanding, and give the remaining students crisp and clear commands, “All of you, get your gear and prepare for battle, as swiftly as you can. Time is of the essence!”

Raphael lay on the floor, his mind a haze and his body exhausted and numb from pain.

There had been several ‘procedures’ since he’d been kidnapped, and in all honesty, he could barely remember what they did, only the pain and Alexander constantly talking, encouraging and comforting him as they worked. He dimly remembered the twisted mage mention ‘a resounding success’ and ‘his body has accepted them well’ but everything else was blurred.

They’d left him bound and gagged between each one, but they needn’t have bothered, his body felt so battered and exhausted, he could barely think straight, never mind using magic or putting up a fight.

The gentle touch of something small and furry bleed through his foggy mind, and he tried to focus on the small thing moving in front of his face. It slowly became clear, morphing into a familiar set of whiskers.

“Squeak!”

Carbuncle?

The rat snuffled his face, giving gentle squeaks as he did so, and Raphael groaned through his gag.

“Squeak, squeak.”

Carbuncle gave some comforting squeaks, then disappeared from his sight, he thought he heard the rat scuffling under the door of his cell, but soon drifted back into his blurred limbo, assuming the whole thing was a dream.

Clashes and shouts pulled him out of the fog once more, and his cell door rattled and swung open as several blurry figures rushed in.

“Raphael, kid?”

He barely registered the gag being pulled off and his bonds being sliced through, instead focusing on the face that gradually swum into view above him, revealing its rugged and familiar features.

“Pa?”

Jeralt gave him a huge smile of relief, “Its okay kid, you’re safe now.”

“Pa…they did…did something to me.”

He gradually realised that he was being lifted off the ground, but kept his focus on Jeralt’s face, which was suddenly joined by Dedue’s.

“Raph! What did they do?”

“Dedue?”

Jeralt spoke commandingly, “Dedue, you and the others take him out of here and straight to the infirmary, me, Byleth and the rest can deal with the rest of the battle. The way back is clear.”

Raphael found himself transferred into Dedue’s arms as Jeralt vanished. He felt Carbuncle clamber on to him, and snuggle against his neck, squeaking gently as his older brother swiftly carried him out of the cell and into the light of the monastery.

Their mad dash after Fenrir had an unexpected payoff in that it had attracted Jeralt’s attention, who’d then wasted no time taking command of the (now armed) students and pursuing the Death Knight into the passageway.

They’d found a complex of corridors and rooms beneath the monastery, and were greeted by the Death Knight himself, who seemed fascinated with Byleth and Jeralt, and he wasted no time in challenging them with his own forces.

Some of the enemy were definitely from the same mage group they’d encountered before, but others were from an unknown faction, though likely the same group.

The battle proved harder than the others they’d had so far, but with Jeralt and Byleth splitting and commanding two groups of students, they pushed through and battled well. All the while he kept lookout for wherever they were keeping Raphael, but it wasn’t until Jeralt captured one of the soldiers and threatened him, that they finally got an answer.

They fought their way through, Jeralt cutting a swarth as the students backed him up. Fenrir also attacked with ferocity, the wolf leaping upon foes with fear inducing snarls (sometimes causing the enemy to retreat outright rather than face his fangs) as he brought them down. Carbuncle had transferred to Dedue’s shoulder for the battle, but sometimes the rat would fling himself upon and enemy’s face, biting viciously and opening them up for a blow from the boy’s axe.

Soon, they reached Raphael’s cell, and Ashe had the lock picked in a trice, Jeralt and Dedue nearly running him over in their haste to reach the kidnapped boy. While he had no obvious injuries, except burns from the ropes tightly binding him, Dedue knew something was wrong with Raphael. The younger boy’s eyes were unfocused as he looked up at Jeralt, who held him in his arms as Dedue removed the gag and cut through the ropes.

“Raphael, kid?”

Jeralt spoke urgently, trying to get a response, and Raphael’s eyes cleared a little as he tilted his head slightly.

“Pa?”

Relief poured out of the captain, and he beamed, blinking away a couple of tears as he answered, “Its okay kid, you’re safe now.”

As if he hadn’t really registered the words, Raphael frowned, “Pa…they did…did something to me.”

Jeralt had already started to lift the boy, and he briefly glanced at Dedue, clearly knowing something wasn’t right as well. Dedue moved to his side, taking in his surrogate brother’s features.

While still having no injuries, Raphael was pale and limp, seemingly exhausted as his forehead crinkled as if he was experiencing some sort of pain and sweat was clear on his near feverish brow.

“Raph! What did they do?”

He didn’t get an answer as the boy looked at him like he just realised he was there.

“Dedue?

Jeralt took charge, “Dedue, you and the others take him out of here and straight to the infirmary, me, Byleth and the rest can deal with the rest of the battle. The way back is clear.”

Dedue nodded in understanding and soon took Raphael into his arms, Carbuncle left his perch on his shoulder and snuggled into his master’s neck, squeaking softly. Holding his brother tightly in his arms, Dedue swiftly retreated back to the passageway, Ashe, Fenrir and other members of Jeralt’s squad supporting their retreat.

Claude had heard legends of ‘The Blade-Breaker’, but it was one thing to hear them, and quite another to see him in action.

Jeralt was ripping through the enemy ranks, weapons quite literally breaking under his assault. Most of his squad weren’t with him, so Claude assumed they’d found Raphael and were taking him back to the surface, and he likely wasn’t in perfect health if Jeralt’s ferocious attack was anything to go by. The mercenary wasn’t just fighting, he was furious.

They knew Flayn was somewhere in the centre of the underground complex, they’d seen her when they arrived, just before the Death Knight appeared and whisked her away after challenging them, his warning of her death if they didn’t reach him quickly enough ringing in their ears. Their main goal was to reach him, and they were making good progress, what with Jeralt’s one-man rampage and Byleth’s lethal skill. The professor’s fighting was also different, while it was seemingly the same as ever, there was definite anger in her eyes and strikes, making it clear that these people had pushed the wrong buttons.

They reached the central room, and with Jeralt basically kicking the door down, both he and his daughter confronted the Death Knight.

Flayn and another girl lay behind him, but he paid them no heed, as he greeted Byleth with apparent joy, made sinister as it echoed out of his skull-shaped helm.

“Finally, you have arrived.”

Jeralt wasn’t interested in dramatic greetings, “Hand over your captives and tell me what you did to my son.”

Well, if anyone doubted Jeralt’s parental love for Raphael, they had clear proof of it now.

“They are of no concern to me. Take them if you wish.” The knight answered dismissively, “I do not know what they did to the boy, I had to bring him here, nothing more.”

Jeralt snarled, but his long experience as knight and mercenary allowed him to put personal emotion aside, “Well you’re going to come with me, the church will want to know who you serve.”

“Kill me or be killed by me.” The Death Knight declared, “I do not seek mercy nor give mercy.”

Words done, the knight leapt forward, swinging his scythe down with lethal intent. Suddenly, the Sword of the Creator lashed out, Byleth expertly attacking with its whip form and forcing the Death Knight to dodge, halting his sudden advance. The professor nipped in, trying to close the distance and nullify the scythe’s reach, but the knight expertly parried the attack, forcing her to dodge instead.

Back and forth they danced, sword and scythe flashing in the dim light of the room. Claude, Mercedes, and Dimitri had taken the opportunity to slip past the duel and reach the unconscious girls. Neither of them looked severely hurt, but they didn’t stir as they picked them up and hurried back out the door, away from the skilled combatants.

Their healers moving in to check the rescued captives, Claude joined the rest of the students watching the duel in awe.

Neither gave any quarter, dodging, ducking, parrying and countering, each looking for their chance to finish the battle. However, it was not meant to be.

In a brief lull, a mysterious, armoured person appeared from nowhere.

“Enough, you are having too much fun.”

The Death Knight responded, sounded annoyed at the interruption, “Why do you interrupt my game?”

“You’ll get the chance to play again soon.” The figure replied, “For now, you will withdraw.”

The knight paused briefly, then answered, “Very well, I shall withdraw.”

As before, he warped away, leaving only the new enemy behind.

“Who the hell are you?”

At Jeralt’s aggressive question, the figure turned to answer, “I am the Flame Emperor, and I will forge a new world. We will meet again.”

With that, the ‘Flame Emperor’ also warped away, leaving them with victory, but a lot more questions.

Claude didn’t like getting more questions.

It was a long few days for Dedue.

After their successful rescue of Flayn, Raphael and the other girl (called Monica apparently), all the captives were brought to the infirmary to join Manuela. Thanks to the advanced healing skills of the monastery staff, the Professor Manuela recovered quickly from her stabbing. It had fortunately been a fairly clean wound (more the shock of the strike taking her out rather than the wound itself) and easy to heal magically, meaning that she almost immediately started attending to the other three. Monica and Flayn seemed to be more shaken and underfed than actually hurt. They’d actually been under the effects of a sleep spell most of the time and had little memory of their time in captivity, so, after a little overnight rest and a decent meal, they were soon out and about again, though Seteth’s concerned hovering around his sister would last much longer.

Raphael was a concern though.

Despite having no physical injuries, he was clearly in worse shape than the others. He’d passed out during the journey to the infirmary, and didn’t regain consciousness, he was also as underfed as the others, likely worsening his condition, and had indeed developed a fever, leaving Manuela very worried until it finally broke after two days.

Dedue had remained by the younger boy’s side for the entirety of his free time, with Jeralt and Byleth in just as much, helping cool his brow, get food and water in him, and just sitting there at his bedside. Carbuncle had also stayed put, either cuddled up next to Raphael or perched nearby, the rat getting food brought to him regularly by Marianne, and only disappearing for very short periods.

Due to his dedicated watch, he knew that Rhea herself had been by to tend to the boy, and that there seemed to be a dedicated rotation between Catherine, Alois and Shamir guarding the infirmary door. Even Fenrir, who stuck to Dedue’s side all the time, remained on guard at the infirmary if his master left, giving suspicious looks and growls to anyone unknown going within six feet of the unconscious boy.

He also knew that Hanneman had carefully taking a little of Raphael’s blood, saying that he hoped he could use it to work out what they’d actually done to him. They’d barely seen him since, suggesting that he had either found nothing, or what he had found was of great interest, and it wasn’t until the third night that they received any information.

As usual, Dedue was right beside Raphael’s bed, though Rhea, Seteth and Manuela were also in the room, quietly discussing his condition.

Dedue looked up from his vigil as Hanneman burst in excitedly, barely remembering to collect himself and use proper conduct.

“Ahem, Archbishop, Seteth, Manuela.” He nodded to each in turn, “I believe I may have discovered what has been done to young Raphael.”

Though it wasn’t really a conversation he was supposed to be listening in to, Dedue paid close attention. Apparently, the others weren’t too concerned with his eavesdropping, since they knew he was there and weren’t sending him out, or they assumed (correctly) that he’d do everything he could to find out what Hanneman had discovered anyway.

Rhea glanced his way and nodded, seemingly accepting him into the conversation as well, before addressing the crest scholar.

“I see, please continue.”

Hanneman obliged, “Well, after taking a sample of his blood, the first thing I did was try and see if it bore a crest. One of our theories was that they were trying to artificially transplant a crest into someone who is crestless, however, attempting to use my instruments on it produced an unusual result.”

“And what result was that?” Manuela asked.

“It nearly destroyed them.” Hanneman answered, “Most of my time the last few days has been spent repairing and improving my equipment. Every time I tried to study his blood, my instruments seemingly couldn’t handle the strain, however, bit by bit I managed to build a picture. It soon became clear that he had some sort of crest, but I couldn’t work out which one, until I finally managed, with a considerable amount of help from young Lindhart, to make my equipment robust enough to identify and study the crest.”

“And what is his crest?” Seteth asked, “I assume you’ve found out.”

Hanneman shook his head, in astonishment, not denial, “And that’s just it, its not one crest, or even two. He now carries all of them.”

“What!”

Rhea’s exclamation of surprise was nearly unbecoming of an Archbishop, and Seteth and Manuela stared at Hanneman like he’d gone mad.

The scholar nodded in affirmation, “I checked multiple times, and even got a second opinion to make sure I wasn’t seeing things, or my equipment had broken again. I can assure you that Raphael now has every crest.”

While Seteth and Manuela seemed to still be recovering from this revelation, Rhea was already frowning in thought, “How is this possible?”

Hanneman had folded his arms, head tilted thoughtfully as he carefully spoke, “While it is only a theory, I’ve been studying his blood all day and Lindhart and I believe that it may be the answer.” He focused on Rhea, “From discussions with Miss Ordelia, it is clear that having two crests greatly shortens one’s lifespan, as well as affecting aspects of physical appearance. However, despite having all of them, Raphael’s body seems to be adjusting to their presence rather well, his current state being merely temporary as it does so. He should be just as healthy as before once it has finished, likely waking in the next couple of days.”

Dedue joined the visible sighs of relief at the news that Raphael was going to wake up and recover soon, but Seteth knew there was more, “So why is that? Why is he going to recover with no issues if others with two crests will suffer from shortened life?”

“Because he has all of them.” Hanneman answered, “It seems that one can have a single crest and receive only the benefits, because it’s the only crest they have. In Miss Ordelia’s case, the second crest competes with the first, while she gets the benefits of both, the two crests remain in opposition, negatively affecting her body. We can assume that the same result occurs if you have more than two, however, by having all of them, they balance each other out, with the Crest of Flames acting as a binding agent, uniting all the other crests and tempering their power. That is why his body remains healthy, in fact, it could now be stronger than ever. All we can do now is wait until he wakes up to see if which of the crests’ powers he has, if any.”

“You mean, he might not have any of their boons?” Rhea asked.

“It is impossible to tell at this moment.” The scholar explained, “Because they balance each other out, it could be that none of them grant their individual benefits to him, or they all do, or only some of them do. Regardless, it is highly likely that he can now draw out the power of any relic he chooses.”

“Rhea?” Seteth addressed the Archbishop, who was now frowning deeply, “How do we proceed? Having all crests will certainly throw him into the sights of many people.”

Rhea closed her eyes, carefully thinking and it was some time before she finally opened them to fix Dedue with an intense look, “I assume we can trust you to keep this secret?”

Dedue nodded swiftly, “Yes Lady Rhea.”

She gave him a small smile then continued, “For now, we shall keep this information among ourselves. At least until we have a clearer understanding of what our enemy is trying to achieve. I will inform Captain Jeralt and Professor Byleth, they deserve to know what has happened.” She looked to Hanneman, “Please make sure that those who assisted you also keep it secret.”

He nodded, “I’ve already told them to remain silent about it until I spoke with you, I will ensure that they maintain that silence.”

She nodded gratefully and addressed them all, “We will also inform Raphael himself once he awakens, but we must remain on guard. Seteth, please increase our patrols of the monastery and search for any other potential passages similar to the one they used this time. I very much doubt they will allow Raphael to remain out of their grasp.”

“Of course, Lady Rhea.” Seteth nodded in confirmation and then swept out the door, likely to attend to his tasks immediately, as the Archbishop gave further instructions.

“Professor Hannenman, Professor Manuela, please continue your studies on how this will affect Raphael’s abilities and health, Professor Byleth may also assist you.”

Nodding in understanding, the two professors also left, already starting to discuss (or bicker) how they were going to carry their instructions out. Left alone with Dedue, Rhea smiled warmly at him and spoke softly, “It goes without saying, but take care of him.”

“Yes Archbishop.”

Chapter Text

Verdant Moon, Imperial Year 1180

Raphael proved Hanneman right, and he did indeed slowly awaken within a couple of days.

Fortunately, Manuela managed to give forewarning of the boy’s imminent awakening, and Byleth, Jeralt and Dedue were present and ready to greet him. Many of the other students also wanted to be there, but Manuela firmly put her foot down, declaring that only family needed to be present (and giving Claude a frosty glare when he suggested that since the Eisners and Dedue technically weren’t blood relatives, then the other students could also count as family) so no one else but them were around when the time actually came.

He took his time over the whole thing, giving a lot of grunts, sleepy groans, and very teenager-like grumbles, before he finally opened his eyes and gave a huge yawn. He blinked at them owlishly a couple of times, then smiled tiredly.

“Hi.”

Dedue yanked him into a hug, as Jeralt clapped a hand on his shoulder, and even Byleth gave a small, but visible smile. No words were spoken for a while, just them simply enjoying Raphael being properly back with them, but eventually he spoke up.

“I don’t remember much, but thanks.”

Jeralt merely shook his head, “No need for thanks kid, you know that none of us were just going to leave you with those scumbags.” He paused, then frowned, “I have to ask, though you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to. Do you remember what they did?”

The boy’s face fell, and he answered slowly, “Not really, just that it hurt, and Alexander comforted me all the way through it…”

“That’s likely for the best, and don’t worry about remembering.” The captain smiled, “And thank Alexander for me, it puts my mind at ease knowing he has your back.”

Raphael’s smile returned at that, then he looked worried as he looked to Byleth, “Umm, how long has it been, since I was…taken…that is?”

The professor’s small smile disappeared at that question, but she answered without ceremony, “You were missing for over a week, and you’ve been here in the infirmary for about another week, though you’ve really only been sleeping for the last two days, instead of in any actual danger.” Her voice softened, “What they did to you greatly affected your body, Professor Manuela says that you’re still going to feel pretty weakened even now. You’ll make a full recovery, but it’ll take a little time.” As she spoke, she’d gently pushed him back down onto the bed, and pulled the cover over him from where it’d fallen after he woke up, “So you’ll need to rest a lot.”

Ignoring the fact that she’d basically tucked him in like a child, Raphael looked to them nervously, “Do we…do we know what they…did?”

Looks were exchanged between them, and a silent decision was made. Rhea had left where and when to tell him to Jeralt’s discretion, and he didn’t believe in beating about the bush and hiding it for even a short while. Taking in a deep breath, he carefully explained.

“In short, they found a way to implant every crest into you, your body getting used to them all is why you’ve been out for so long. Hannemen believes that having all of them keeps a balance between them, so they won’t badly effect you once you’ve recovered, but he and Manuela do want to keep a close eye on the effects.”

“All of them?”

Raphael visibly whitened as he asked, fear creeping into his voice as he kept speaking, “Aren’t crests a big deal amongst the nobility? What does it mean for me if I’ve got all of them?”

Dedue smiled comfortingly, “For now, Rhea has decided that only us, and a few select others know. The other students are not privy to this information.”

The younger boy visibly relaxed, but his brow soon creased with worry again, “When I was being treated, did anyone…you know…see my mark?”

The older boy shook his head, “No, their magic told them you had no physical injuries, so there was no need for a visual examination. No one has seen Alexander’s symbol.”

Raphael gave a huge sigh of relief at this news, but Jeralt used it to raise a concern, after swiftly checking that they were indeed the only ones in the room.

“Even so, will having crests and an Aeon cause problems?”

There was a long pause before the younger boy answered, which was revealed to be because he was listening to Alexander.

“No, Alexander doesn’t think so. He says that even with all crests, their power alone isn’t enough to mess with his, he believes that’s why they needed a Scion like me to do it. My body is used to holding magic power.” He glanced up, “And the ones who kidnapped me this time are definitely the same group that kidnapped me as a kid. One of them flat out stated it.”

The man nodded in understanding, “I had a feeling that may have been the reason for targeting you. They’ve been working towards this for some time, which makes me wonder what exactly they’re planning if it involves this much preparation and time. I’m sure this goes well beyond the Western Church.”

The sound of the door swinging open ended the conversation, as they all snapped their heads towards it in surprise, and saw Claude leaning in and giving a cheeky wave.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, finally decided to re-join us.”

As he waltzed on in, followed by the rest of the class, Jeralt sighed, “What are you brats doing here? I thought Manuela told you to keep out?”

The house leader smiled casually, “Well, a certain knight who often says vicious things about Dedue, may or may not have suddenly developed a nasty stomach bug that causes him to throw up everywhere, thus requiring Professor Manuela’s attention. So, we took that to mean that we could now visit.”

Behind him, Hilda spoke up, “Oh, so that’s what you meant by ‘I’ll organise a distraction’!”

“Claude, are you saying that you used one of your underhanded tactics to arrange this.” Lorenz commented reproachfully.

Claude was rather unrepentant, “Look, the poison will wear off after awhile with no side effects. You guys were the ones desperate to come in and see Raphael awake.” He held up the box he was carrying, “Besides Lorenz, do you want to be the one to go back and tell Mercedes we didn’t deliver the cake she and Annette baked for him?”

The young noble didn’t deign to reply, but it was clear that he saw his rival’s point and protested no further as the class crowded in. Not that anyone could blame him, Mercedes’ quiet disappointment was something no one wished to be on the receiving end of. Once they were all gathered around his bed, Claude revealed the cake with a flourish.

“One get-well cake, courtesy of the Blue Lions, and delivered by the Golden Deer.” He grinned, “Oh, and I believe Dorothea is currently bullying the Black Eagles into doing something for you as well, I think it might be a glad-to-have-you-back card signed by all of them.”

Raphael couldn’t help but laugh, especially when Hilda began berating the house leader.

“Claude! That was supposed to be a surprise!”

The boy held up his hands defensively, Leonie rescuing the cake before it became a victim in the impending argument. Ignoring the bickering match building, the others quickly dived in with their various greetings and statements of relief at Raphael’s recovery. Ignatz assured him that he’d made notes of lessons he’d missed which he could use, Leonie told him she’d kept his equipment in good order, he thanked Marianne profusely when she quietly mentioned she’d been looking after Carbuncle, Lorenz took awhile to inform him of his pleasure at his recovery and Lysithea was quiet but did carefully say that he could speak to her about what happened if he needed to.

All in all, it was a very entertaining and rowdy time, until Ashe suddenly appeared at the door panting.

“Everyone, Manuela’s on her way back!”

Instantly, everyone’s expression became panicked and Claude snapped out a single command.

“Golden Deer, scatter!”

With a flurry of activity, the house rushed out of the infirmary and vanished, the echo of their rapid footsteps in all directions just fading away as Manuela came back in. She frowned in confusion.

“Where did that cake come from?”

“Is that all that was there?”

Catherine nodded at Rhea’s question, “Yes Lady Rhea, when we reached the tower Miklan and his gang had been using for their base, they were no longer there. Their supplies, weapons, even personal belongings were still there. It was like they simply vanished, leaving everything as if they all just briefly went out and intended to come back. The Lance of Ruin was also left behind, so we retrieved it but…”

“But there’s no sign of Miklan or his followers.” Seteth finished.

Rhea frowned with worry, something she’d been doing a lot more recently, “There aren’t even any reports of them continuing their assaults on villages and travelers?”

Catherine shrugged, “That’s right, and I don’t see how they could attack anyone with no weapons, there’s not even been any sightings of them.”

Seteth folded his arms, “This is yet another strange occurrence, on top of a great many others. This does not sit well with me, taking into account the reports of people disappearing from Lord Kleiman’s territory, this seems far too suspicious.”

“Agreed.” Rhea addressed Catherine, “Take what knights you can and look into these disappearances. While we may have retrieved the Lance of Ruin, there have been far too many mysteries and problems occurring for us to ignore anything.”

The knight bowed, “Yes Lady Rhea, I’ll begin looking into right away.”

“I wish to know what you intend to do with Raphael?”

Lord Arundel remained seemingly unfazed by the Flame Emperor’s aggressive tone. “Flame Emperor, surely you can see the potential in the boy having greater power. You’ve already shown an interest in swaying him to your cause.”

“Perhaps.” The emperor responded, “But I am now concerned with what you have done.”

The lord’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, “All we have done is gifted him all crests, the success of such a thing shows potential for your own situation, yes?”

Though the mask hid their face, you could practically feel the glare coming from the Flame Emperor, “You continue that work?”

“All to improve your cause and remove that false goddess from her throne of lies.” Arundel replied smoothly, “I know you’ll agree on the advantages having him on your side will bring.”

“If he chooses my side.”

The Lord smiled meaningfully, “Then I suggest you succeed on bringing him to your side.”

The Flame Emperor did not respond but warped away leaving resentment behind them.

“Hopefully the ‘Flame Emperor’ won’t start causing problems.”

Arundel snorted at Solon’s words, spoken as he slithered out of the shadows, “I doubt that they will, they have no intention of betraying us just yet, not when they believe they are using us.”

“Yet we are the ones using them.” Solon chuckled darkly, “A pity the ‘Flame Emperor’ will not see the dream they pursue.”

Arundel glanced at him, “A pity indeed.” He continued onto other matters, “What of our…problem…in Duscur?”

The twisted mage reported bluntly, “He is ready to begin his grand plans, the darkness he’ll unleash will consume the Kingdom with terror, I doubt it’ll recover even if he is stopped, which serves us well.”

“Do you believe that our plan will work?”

Solon nodded firmly, “Yes, the boy’s Eidolon is in direct opposition to our problem, Alexander will purge it from existence with the boon the crests supply. Then, when the time is right, those crests will break the seal and bring our plans to fruition. The Empire’s heart and blade will be destroyed, the Kingdom will collapse under the weight of its own hypocrisy, and the Alliance will be unable to muster even a slightly unified defence.”

Arundel smiled in approval, “Good, and with summoners condemned by the church, Fόdlan is completely ill equipped to deal with what is coming.”

Solon grinned in anticipation.

“Eden will rise.”

“How interesting, it seems that my hypothesis was somewhat correct.”

Raphael looked confused at Hanneman’s words, “Hypo-what-now?”

The scholar seemed unfazed by the boy’s confusion, “Hypothesis, my theory that your new crest would enable you to wield the power of a relic.” He gestured to the Lance of Ruin, currently glowing in Raphael’s hands, “That glow indicates that you can draw out the lance’s true power, though we won’t do so here.”

The boy grinned, “It also feels like there’s more strength in my arms than ever!”

Hanneman frowned, “Really?” He looked thoughtful for a moment, “It initially appeared that having all crests nullified the usual benefits of having only one. Perhaps holding a relic temporarily unlocks the boon of its matching crest…” He smiled, “For now, please return the lance. Lady Rhea was gracious to lend it to us to test my theory, but it must be returned to House Gautier.”

Raphael handed the lance back over, the glow fading and the greater strength he’d felt disappearing as it left his hands. The Archbishop and Manuela had been watching, and the physician checked the boy over.

“Well, I can’t see anything wrong. Does anything feel off to you?”

He shook his head, “No, I feel normal.”

She seemed satisfied, “Good, it seems Hanneman was right, and there’s no lingering effects from having all those crests transplanted.” She smiled at him then looked to Rhea, “Well, if this little test is done, perhaps we can finally let him out back into the madness that is the Golden Deer?”

The Archbishop gave a small smile of amusement at that, “Of course, I’m sure the other students are eager to see him out and about again.” She turned her smile on him, “Do please be careful, we’re still not entirely sure what effects your crests will have, but I’m certain you’ll continue to do well.”

He grinned and nodded respectfully, “Thank you Lady Rhea.”

With permission to leave, he finally walked out of the infirmary, not at all surprised to see Dedue right outside the door waiting for him. The older boy grinned, and easily fell into step beside him as they headed for the stairs down and out, speaking as they went.

“So, what happened with Hanneman’s ‘test’?”

Raphael answered quietly, since it was still secret, “It glowed in when I held it, and he thinks that holding a matching relic activates a crest’s power.”

Dedue looked thoughtful, “So, unlike Dimitri’s, which always gives him increased strength, yours only do such things if you’re holding the right relic?”

“Seems that way, though I’m sure Hanneman will research further, I let him take more blood and some of my hair for further study.”

The older of the two laughed a little, “That’ll keep him happy for a while.”

“Thankfully, studying such things won’t reveal your Scion powers to him. My power won’t run through anything that is no longer a part of your body.” Alexander commented.

Raphael smiled but didn’t reply, looking to Dedue has he spoke up as if remembering something.

“Oh, don’t be surprised if Lindhart speaks to you about it, apparently he was the one that helped Hanneman find out what they did in the first place, so he knows as well.”

“And I guess he’s sworn to secrecy?”

Dedue shrugged, “Yes, but I think he likes the fact he’s only one of two people that can research it. I think he’s really interested in the limits of crest power and really wants to know how you having all of them will work.”

“So, he’s going to be asking me a lot of questions?”

“Yes, pretty much.”

As they walked, they finally reached the Golden Deer classroom, and were greeted enthusiastically by the filled-out room that certainly had more than just the house in it.

“Finally, he returns!”

It was Claude who’d given the first greeting, but everyone else was close behind, with those like Mercedes coming in close to fuss over him, while others followed up with hearty back-pats and statements of their pleasure that he was out and about. The jovial return went on for several minutes, until Raphael finally managed to speak.

“Everyone, thanks, but why are you all here?”

It was Edelgard who answered, “We were all told to meet here. Apparently we’ll have a shared mission between the three houses.”

Dimitri continued the explanation, “It seems that our continued joint efforts have impressed, or this mission is considered too large for one class to handle alone.”

“Or the church is being cautious.” Claude added, “Considering what’s happened so far, it could be they’re playing things carefully for the moment. One, well two actually, of their students were kidnapped, I can see why they’re being careful.”

Flayn smiled, “Either way, I am very pleased to be joining the rest of you in your lessons.”

“Huh!?” Raphael looked at her in surprise, “You’re joining the Academy?”

The girl laughed and nodded, “Yes, I convinced my brother to let me join your class.”

“That is correct.”

As per usual, Byleth’s voice cut in as she strode into the classroom. The gathered students settled down and found seats as she made her way to the front, giving Raphael a welcoming nod as she passed. Once she reached her goal, she turned and wasted no time in explaining their new mission.

“Now, since you all performed admirably during the investigation and rescue, there will be no official mission at the end of the month. However, the church has asked you all to join the Knights of Serios in a new investigation that’ll remain our mission until such a time as it is completed.”

She pulled over a board that had a map of Faerghus pinned to it and pointed out a section of the map.

“There have been reports of people going missing in Lord Kleiman’s territory, notably around the area of Duscur.”

At this, Ingrid gave Dedue a very obvious and suspicious glance, but said nothing. Dimitri, meanwhile, looked concerned.

“Do we have any idea as to why people are vanishing?”

Byleth answered simply, “No, the knights are beginning an investigation as we speak. Our mission is to help with the investigation and, if required, head out to deal with whatever is causing these disappearances.” She paused briefly, then continued, “You should also know, that Miklan Guatier stole the Lance of Ruin, however, when Catherine led a group to where he and his bandit gang were hiding out last month, they found that they’d also vanished, leaving behind all their supplies and weapons, including the Lance of Ruin.”

There were murmurs of surprise around the room, which fell silent as the professor spoke again, “There may be no connection between the two, but the church considers this to be too many strange occurrences together. We’ll be seeing if there is a connection between Miklan’s bandits and the other disappearances.”

She fixed them all with a look.

“Now, shall we discuss how to proceed?”

Chapter Text

With Raphael’s disappearance and subsequent recovery, research into Eidolons had been halted. Now though, Dedue and Raphael returned to their investigation, mostly focusing on trying to match up Eidolons with other historical figures.

Remembering Raphael’s theory of Charon potentially becoming an Eidolon after their death, they thought that matching Eidolons and other historical figures might give more clues. Alexander and Diablos were also intrigued by the possibility, likely curious to discover who they were before they were Eidolons and encouraged this line of investigation.

“There little one, that name looks familiar.”

Raphael paused his reading of an account of the War of the Eagle and Lion and scanned back across the page, finding the single mention of the name Alexander was potentially referring to.

“You mean, Pan?”

“Yes, I’m certain he’s in Dedue’s book.”

Raphael looked across Dedue’s room to the older boy, who was sat at his desk, “Hey Dedue, is there an Aeon called ‘Pan’ in your family’s records?”

Dedue quickly began leafing through the records that were open beside him, “I think there was, hang on…here!” He stopped turning the pages and focused on what he’d found, “It seems Pan was the Aeon of another Scion my father encountered.” He then frowned, “Apparently not that many years ago.”

“You sound surprised?”

The older boy’s frown deepened, “I remember my father spending several weeks away from home, when I was much younger, I didn’t realise that he’d encountered another Scion.”

He shook his head and refocused on the page, “Anyway, Pan was the Aeon of someone who came from north of Duscur, from across the sea. Pan apparently grants something my father called ‘modifying’ magic.”

“Modifying magic?”

“Yes.” Dedue ran a finger along the page, “It enhances or weakens aspects of the target, like lowering their physical strength, boosting their resistance to magic, even temporarily increasing their pool of magic power. Basically, it improves your combat abilities and lessens the abilities of your enemies.” He looked round at Raphael, “What was Pan known for in history?”

The younger glanced at his own book, “He was apparently an ally of Loog, the first king of Faerghus. He assisted Loog during the War of the Eagle and Lion, though that’s all it says, he doesn’t seem to be mentioned much.”

“So, still nothing much to go off of?”

Raphael looked thoughtful, “Maybe one of the students from the Kingdom might know more. I mean, Dimitri is descended from Loog, perhaps his family passed down information on his allies that doesn’t make it into the history books.”

“Perhaps…”

“Raphael, are you sure you’re ready for this?”

The boy grinned at Lysithea, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fully recovered and ready to go!”

They were in the training grounds, Raphael keen to return to his routine and build up the strength he’d lost during his kidnapping and subsequent recovery, but Lysithea (and several others) didn’t seem convinced that he was ready yet.

From the side-lines, Mercedes spoke warningly, “Just don’t overdo it, you don’t want to attempt too much too soon.”

From the centre of the grounds, Jeralt spoke up on Raphael’s behalf, a small smirk playing about his lips as he did so, “Why do you think I’m the one sparring with him? I’m trying to judge just how much he’s ready for.”

His words seemed to satisfy the worriers, and soon Raphael was out and facing Jeralt, gauntlets at the ready. Many of the students were gathered in the grounds, either training themselves or simply watching, and the crowd watched with interest as the two fighters prepped themselves. At the captain’s nod, the spar began.

Dedue watched from the side, while confident that Jeralt knew what he was doing, he still didn’t like to have Raphael out of his sight just yet. His new steel axe was held loosely at his side, a birthday gift from Jeralt alongside a new shield from Byleth. Due to the events of the previous month, his birthday had nearly been forgotten, but his classmates had noticed the impending date and planned accordingly. The celebration had been similar to Raphael’s (if not a little bigger due to it acting as a celebration of Flayn and Raphael’s rescue as well) and he smiled a little as he thought back on it.

“Well, he certainly seems to be recovering well.”

Dedue looked to the side, seeing that Hanneman had appeared and was watching the spar as well.

“Professor?”

The man continued to watch the spar, even as he replied, “I thought it would be a good idea to observe Raphael in training.” He lowered his voice, mindful of others around them, “Its possible his crests could be granting him greater strength or other attributes. Even a light spar will showcase any such boons better than normal.”

Dedue simply nodded, it made sense, and Hanneman was tasked with seeing exactly what Raphael’s new crests were capable of after all. He re-focused on the bout, noticing the clear signs that Jeralt was holding back, but Raphael was still tiring fast. After a couple more moments, the captain called a halt.

“You did well kid, but I think that’s as far as we can push things for the moment, take a rest.”

The boy did as he was ordered, moving to the side and sitting down panting. Carbuncle left the stone wall he’d been perched on and quickly clambered up his master, settling on his shoulder. Chuckling, Raphael scratched the rat’s head fondly, and gave him a treat which was quickly gobbled up with relish.

“Dedue, why don’t you and Ingrid spar for a bit.”

Dedue blinked in surprise at Jeralt’s suggestion, but swiftly nodded and made his way to the centre of the training grounds, equipping a training axe on his way. As he approached, he watched Ingrid ready herself, her eyes narrowing at him meaningfully.

This wasn’t going to be a friendly spar.

He readied himself, gauging his opponent until Jeralt gave the signal.

“Begin!”

Ingrid moved in, swinging her lance with prejudice in a manner more akin to Dimitri’s overwhelming aggression, instead of her normal feinting and precision. Dedue braced, taking the attack upon his large shield. Having upgraded to full armour he could now afford to take more hits, no longer only having a shield to deflect blows, and he swiftly moved to strike back. As his axe swung round, Ingrid deftly dodged the blow. Taking advantage of the opening, she stabbed in and he turned his shoulders, deflecting the strike with the armoured pads there. Instead of swinging his axe, he launched himself forward and heavily barged her. The girl gasped in surprise as the impact flung her backwards, forcing her to drop her lance in surprise and fall to the ground. He quickly stood over her, holding his axe pointing down at her throat, preventing her from rising.

“Enough!”

With Jeralt halting the spar, Dedue stood down and Ingrid sullenly got to her feet. Jeralt gave him a nod of approval before critiquing them both.

“Dedue, that was a good use of your armour, using the best protected areas is a good way to remain alive in a fight, but remember to watch when you swing. A skilled opponent may be able to use the opening to strike your weak points. Ingrid, you were too aggressive in the beginning, you’re naturally skilled at dodging and precision strikes. Next time focus on baiting an armoured opponent into attacking, opening a chance for a counter-attack, I know you use a pegasus, where aggressive hit-and-run tactics can work well, but you need to be able to adapt in case your mount isn’t around for you to use.”

He glanced at Raphael, “Do you think you’re ready to go again kid?”

The brawler stood up with a smile, “Yeah!”

The man smirked, “Fine then, how about you spar against someone else instead of me.” His eyes scanned the crowd, settling on another Blue Lion, “How about you Felix, I know you’re looking at brawling alongside the sword, sparring against a brawler could be useful.”

The swordfighter merely nodded and made his way to the centre as Raphael trotted out excitedly. Dedue frowned in concern, Felix wasn’t known for holding back and Raphael was still not at full strength, was this really a good idea?

“Felix, remember that this is to help him get his strength back. Maybe go a little easier than you usually do.”

It seemed that Sylvain shared his concerns, the redhead cautioning his friend. Whether or not the words sank in or not remained unknown, since Felix didn’t answer, and soon, both boys were facing each other.

“Begin!”

As expected, Felix was moving the moment Jeralt started the bout, shooting in swiftly as was his style. While still not at full strength, Raphael had become familiar with the other boy’s methods, and swiftly sidestepped the blow to counter with a short, sharp jab. Felix however, had recovered quickly from his miss, and he nimbly hopped back, cleanly avoiding the strike and nipping back in with his own counter. Stabbing forward, he aimed for Raphael’s gut, but the boy suddenly wasn’t there.

He’d sidestepped, then twirled, the quick spin taking him around Felix and behind the swordfighter. Completely blindsided, the boy ended up on the receiving end of a swift two-punch combo into his back, causing him to stumble forward.

Dedue had moved back to stand next to Dorothea before the bout, and the songstress gave a clap and a cheer at this manoeuvre, “Beautifully done Raphael!”

She smiled at Dedue, “I started giving him dancing lessons a while ago, he has a good sense of timing and it looks like he’s incorporated some of the steps into his fighting style.”

He stared at her in surprise, “When did you start teaching him that?”

“When we had that bodyguard rotation going for him.” She promptly answered, “He seemed pretty eager to give dancing a shot when I mentioned it to him, and once we found out that he was actually rather good, we kept the lessons going. I think he’s even been doing lighter routines to help build himself back up after his recovery.”

She looked back at the ongoing spar and smiled, “Wow, he seems to really be using those steps now.”

Once again, he focused on the bout, and Dedue noticed the clear differences in Raphael’s technique.

Originally, he’d used a more standard technique for brawlers, but it was clear that Dorothea’s lessons had changed this. The younger boy’s movements were now fluid and smoother, easily transitioning between attack and defence in a manner that kept Felix guessing. Instead of straight steps and haymakers, he now had more circular motions and jabs, constantly rotating around Felix and moving into the swordman’s blind spots. He still used the powerful punches he used to favour, but they were less common, and he wasn’t guarding much, instead simply getting out the way entirely.

The approach seemed to enable him to last longer than when he used the standard style against Jeralt earlier, perhaps because his blows and dodges were more efficient with expending his energy.

That being said, Felix was very skilled, and even with Raphael’s new style, he was keeping up well and rarely leaving openings to be exploited. When it came to adaptability, the swordsman was very competent (whereas some of his more ‘knightly’ peers were less so) and he had no qualms about attempting ‘dirty’ fighting, throwing in several punches and kicks himself.

By now, the bout had attracted the attention of everyone present (even those who’d actually been there to train) and there were plenty of cries of support. The Golden Deer were being particularly vocal with their support of Raphael (Claude had even got most of them to start a chant) while the Blue Lions were mostly backing Felix. The Black Eagles were more divided, though Dorothea was clearly very proud of Raphael’s new techniques. Behind them, Dedue spotted Alois joining the cheers of the Raphael supporters, his voice ringing out over the others.

“That’s it, Raphael! Make your old man proud!”

Despite this, the two boys kept their focus, waiting for their moment to claim a decisive blow. Then, as if tiring of their ongoing duel, Felix switched to becoming highly aggressive, pressing home with a flurry of swift blows that were leaving Raphael hard pressed. The swordsman was surrounded by a faint glow, with his crest occasionally flashing in the air behind him, an indication that it was now giving him a little boost.

Crests were known to do such things, giving an extra boost on top of their more consistent boon, especially in high-stress situations like combat. With Felix’s crest now more active, many of the onlookers started to believe the spar was about over, assuming the crest would give the Blue Lion the advantage to win with brute strength.

This seemed to be the case, especially when Raphael just about blocked a hefty blow that caused him to stagger back. Dedue spotted Sylvain moving forward, as if he was worried Felix might get a little carried away and strike too hard, but there was no need.

Raphael recovered, and seeing Felix bearing down to deal the final blow, he crouched, his legs coiling like springs as he readied a counterstrike. Suddenly, the Crest of Fraldarius flashed behind him, his body wreathed in a glow stronger than Felix’s and he launched himself forward.

The crowd gasped or cried out in surprise, and Dedue saw the moment Felix realised what just happened, before Raphael’s blow, powered by both his leap and activation of the crest, struck him soundly in the gut, sending him flying backwards several feet and ending the bout.

Silence fell over those gathered as Jeralt hurried over to Felix to check how he was while Raphael stood frozen in shock, realising just what had happened. With a bit of coughing, Felix sat up, apparently only winded by the unexpected punch, and Alois swiftly began herding the gathered people out.

“Come now everyone, the spar is over and I’m sure you’ve all got things to do. Professor Hanneman and Captain Jeralt can deal with what happened.”

Obeying the knight, the students shuffled out, many of them murmuring or loudly discussing about what had happened, while others gave Raphael curious looks. Though seemingly fine, Jeralt insisted that Felix check in at the infirmary, entrusting Mercedes and Sylvain with taking him there and the captain waited until they’d also left before addressing Raphael, whom Dedue was now right next to.

“Are you alright kid.”

Shaking off his surprise, the boy nodded, “Yeah, but what about…?”

“Felix will be fine.” Jeralt answered, “I’m certain he was only winded, and he might get a bruise but that’s nothing Manuela can’t fix.”

“Okay.”

Hannenman sighed, “Though this event may have ruined keeping your crests secret.” He saw Raphael look guilty and quickly reassured him, “Its not your fault, we weren’t expecting one of them to activate like that.”

“How did it happen?” Jeralt asked sharply, “I thought they only activated for him when he held the right relic?”

“That was my theory yes.” The scholar answered ruefully, “Perhaps they also activate in response to a matching crest. It didn’t do so until Felix’s did, maybe your Crest of Fraldarius activated to combat his.” He left off his musing, “Regardless, it would be best to report this to Lady Rhea, the story of what happened here will likely be spreading around the monastery like wildfire by now.”

Jeralt sighed, “Oh boy.”

“I see, this is an unfortunate turn of events.”

At Seteth’s words, Raphael looked down ashamedly but, like Hanneman, the Archbishop’s second was reassuring, “It was not your fault, in truth we should have considered the possibility of your crests activating in front of others.” He folded his arms, “Though it does leave us with the question of how to proceed, like it or not, people now know that you at least have the Crest of Fraldarius.” He looked to Rhea, “Perhaps it would be best to dispense with secrecy?”

The Archbishop closed her eyes briefly, “Considering recent events, I believe that may be best. With the Western Church uprising, the recent kidnappings and the mysterious disappearances in Faerghus, allowing rumours to spread would cause more harm.”

Jeralt seemed unhappy, “Lady Rhea, are you sure that’s best? If people know Raphael holds all the crests, it will attract a lot of attention to him, and not all of it good. That’s why we kept it secret in the first place.”

Hanneman was the one who answered, “While that is true, it is likely people will discover his other crests, even if we pretend he only has the Crest of Fraldarius. If they do indeed activate in response to other crests, then its only a matter of time before the others respond to the other students.”

Jeralt sighed, “I see your point, a lot of them have crests so sparring against any of them could cause his to activate.”

Throughout the discussion, Raphael stayed quiet, Dedue staying close to his side. To be honest, he was worried, while he initially didn’t get why they were so highly valued, he was aware that people wanted crests and they’d affected the lives of several of his classmates. Simply paying attention quickly informed you that crests were valuable and many people wanted them. What would they do to get their hands on someone with all of them?

Rhea’s words pulled him from his thoughts, “With things as they are, I believe continuing to keep this secret will only create more trouble for Raphael later. I shall personally address the students and explain our initial secrecy.” She smiled reassuringly at Raphael, “Do not fear, I’m certain the Goddess will watch over you.”

With a nod of farewell to those gathered, she left the Audience Chamber, likely to prepare and give her address, Seteth however lingered and gave Raphael more practical advice and reassurance, “Raphael, if anyone should give you any problems because of this, then please bring them straight to me, I will deal with them. For now, I think you and Dedue should avoid places like the dining hall and training grounds until tomorrow, the Archbishop will address the students but they’ll still likely mob you for answers themselves. I’m sure Professor Byleth will be happy to deliver some food to your rooms for dinner, and I’ll make sure people know not to bother you.”

With a reassuring smile and a nod of his own, Seteth left the room. Hanneman also nodded a farewell and followed, likely to resume research with his new knowledge, and Jeralt clapped them both on the shoulder.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you two to your rooms.”

Following Seteth’s advice, they remained away from everyone else until the following day, however, it was a school day, and they would not be able to hide forever.

When she delivered their dinner, Byleth had informed them of Rhea’s address to the students and promised to help keep people off of their case as much as she could. However, they knew Raphael would be the topic of much discussion and scrutiny no matter what anyone did, and it became obvious the moment they stepped outside.

Whispers followed them as they walked to the dining hall, monks, nobles, students and knights alike stopping and staring as they passed. Unnerved, Raphael moved closer to Dedue and Fenrir glared at anyone who stared too long, occasionally baring his fangs at the one or two who looked like they were going to approach. The moment they entered the dining hall, conversation trailed off, leaving behind an oppressive silence as everyone stared at Raphael. At this, Fenrir gave a low growl and a bark, and people swiftly looked away and resumed their conversations, though still regularly glancing in their direction.

The looks and whispers continued, with some people regarding Raphael with something more akin to awe while others looked uncomfortable. They tried their best to ignore those around them, receiving food from awkward servers and finding seats a little distance from others.

Naturally, they weren’t going to be left alone.

As expected, Claude soon joined them, several other students in tow. Raphael sighed and the house leader held up his hands appealingly, “Okay, firstly, we’re not here to accuse or interrogate you, just checking that you’re alright.”

“And to offer some help.” Sylvain added, “If people start giving you trouble because of your crests, just come tell me okay. Most of us know the kind of attention having a crest can get you. The good and the bad.”

Beside him, Mercedes nodded in agreement, but anything she was going to say was interrupted by more students turning up, apparently taking Claude’s approach as a signal to come as well. Several of them began talking at once, asking questions and making comments, revealing a bit of a divide in opinions. Some seemed to be impressed with his acquisition of all crests, talking about it like it was some kind of honour. Others seemed to bristle at this, stating the problems it could cause, with Lysithea being one of the most vocal in this camp. To their credit, Claude, Edelgard and Dimitri seemed to be trying to bring some order to the sudden mess, attempting to convince the students to stop with their debates and questions and leave Raphael alone.

For his part, Raphael just looked overwhelmed by the sudden surge of attention, glancing around the group frantically, eventually looking to Dedue in despair. With the younger boy clearly uncomfortable, Fenrir growling away beneath the table, Carbuncle looking ready to leap on someone’s face and bite their nose off, and the conversations getting louder and more heated, Dedue had had enough.

“SHUT UP!”

Having leapt to his feet, his voice boomed out throughout the dining hall, silencing everyone and making people jump and stare at him in shock. With their attention secured, he spoke more quietly and with firmness.

“Look, I know that crests are a big deal but that doesn’t mean you can just charge over here and mob us! Go away and leave us alone!”

Some of the students looked ready to retort but Edelgard beat them to it, “Indeed, there was no need for this whole thing, and I’m sure we all have things we need to prepare for class.”

Taking her very clear hint, the Black Eagles quickly dispersed, and Dimitri hurried the Blue Lions out as well, the Golden Deer lingered, mostly to give some short apologies before also dispersing. The rest of the dining hall continued to stare, some of those present looking scandalised at Dedue’s outburst, but an authoritative voice cut through the silence.

“I do believe you all have things to be getting on with.”

Seteth was in the doorway, likely attracted to the previous hubbub, and conversations quickly resumed while some people hurried out the room at his firm words. His eyes fell on Dedue as he gave the boy a small nod of approval, then gave Raphael a kind smile before disappearing with a swish of his cloak.

Though the stares and whispers remained, classes passed without incident.

The Golden Deer seemed to have made a concerted effort to continue treating Raphael exactly the way they had before, and none of them seemed annoyed at Dedue’s outburst that morning. The Black Eagles also seemed to be taking this approach, likely spearheaded by Dorothea since when she next saw them, she spoke only about the dance steps Raphael had incorporated into his fighting and made no reference to his new crests whatsoever. The Blue Lions were a little more mixed, most were going the ‘carry on as normal’ route but a couple were colder to the two of them, likely because they felt slighted by Dedue’s earlier yelling.

That being said, there were differences to be seen.

Edelgard and Lysithea were watching Raphael more closely, though the younger girl seemed to be doing so more out of concern than the imperial princess. Oddly enough, Marianne seemed to be avoiding him, occasionally looking at him with what seemed to be guilt for some inexplicable reason, while others were hanging around more. In fact, it felt like the bodyguard rotation of earlier months had been unofficially re-established.

Eventually, the students seemed to accept Raphael’s new crests, but there were changes beyond them that started cropping up.

Mainly his greater prominence in other people’s eyes.

Members of the church and visitors to the monastery treated him with much more respect, whereas he’d once been another student, he was now spoken to as if he were also a noble. There’d also been a surge in interest from noble circles. Naturally, knowledge about his crests had swiftly spread beyond the monastery (so many people came through it was inevitable) and that meant they wanted those crests.

Already he’d received multiple marriage proposals from nobles wanting him to marry their daughters (Sylvain seemed to enjoy setting fire to those when Raphael let him), offers to be adopted into different noble families (Jeralt wasted no time ripping those ones to shreds, with prejudice) and offers of knighthood from several lords once his time at the academy was done (probably with the aim to eventually lead him to marriage or adoption as well).

There’d been those with similar proposals coming to the monastery in person, often on the pretext of other business, and a series of formidable defences had appeared to dissuade them.

If they were lucky, they came up against Seteth, who simply kept them occupied with conversation and politeness, so they ran out of time. Often, Claude took on this role as well, his natural charm and gift with words delaying them for even longer than Seteth’s best efforts. It was interesting if one with an adoption proposal ended up facing off against Jeralt, the captain took great pleasure in speaking proudly about Dedue and Raphael, pointedly referring to them as ‘his boys’. If he wasn’t around then Alois took over, continuingly calling them ‘Captain Jeralt’s sons’ until said noble got the message that this wasn’t going to work.

The most entertaining was if any of them came face-to-face with Byleth.

Making full use of her patented blank expression, she would simply answer them with bland and completely unhelpful responses, causing them to get more and more frustrated until they finally gave up and stormed away.

All in all, things were actually going rather well, and Raphael’s new prominence had actually started to be more a source of amusement than difficulty.

Then their mission took a nasty turn.

Chapter Text

Horsebow Moon, Imperial Year 1180

The first indication was Byleth suddenly being summoned by the Archbishop in the middle of class.

Leaving behind instructions to study a certain historical battle and its strategies in her absence, she hurried on out. Naturally, the students immediately ignored their instructions and began speculating on what happened.

“What do you suppose the Archbishop wants?” Ignatz asked.

“It probably has something to do with our mission.” Claude answered confidently, “I bet something has changed with it.”

“That was our thinking as well.”

Edelgard’s voice came from the door, and she swiftly walked in, closely followed by the rest of the Black Eagles.

“Professor Hanneman was also just summoned by the Archbishop.” The princess explained, “We also saw Professor Manuela heading that direction as well, so I assume the Blue Lions will soon join us.”

As if on cue, Dimitri and the rest of his class also appeared at the door.

“I see your professors were also summoned.” He stated, “We also saw Captain Jeralt and Catherine heading for the sudden meeting. No doubt something has happened.”

The other two classes made themselves comfortable around the classroom, and Claude opened the discussion.

“So, anyone have any idea what’s happened?”

Ashe spoke up nervously, “Well, a few days ago I heard two of the knights talking about going out on patrol in Lord Kleiman’s territory as part of the investigation, maybe they found something.”

“Or whoever is behind the disappearances found them.” Hubert mentioned ominously.

“Flayn, has Seteth mentioned anything to you?” Claude inquired.

The green-haired girl started a little, but answered promptly, “Well, nothing specific, but I do know that several groups of knights have been sent as part of the investigation. I think Shamir was heading it up.”

“So, either they found something that required immediate attention, or something happened to one of the groups.” Dimitri theorised, “I don’t see what else would prompt such a swift gathering of the professors and top knights.”

“Whatever the case, I believe we should expect to be heading out ourselves soon enough.” Claude added, “And it’ll likely be a battle.”

“Of course, you’re all here already.”

All eyes fell on the door and Hanneman walked in, closely followed by Manuela and Byleth, the scholar gave a sigh, “While I recall giving my students rather different instructions, I suppose its for the best that you are all here.”

Byleth took up the explanation, “As you’ve all probably already assumed, the investigation into the mysterious disappearances has uncovered something. One of the knights who was sent out returned to the monastery alone.” She paused, “He was…erratic…and making little sense, but what we managed to get from him was enough to convince the church that immediate action needs to be taken. As such, we, along with a large contingent of knights led by Jeralt and Catherine, will be marching for Lord Kleiman’s territory immediately.”

Hanneman continued, “Now, our main task will be to find Shamir and the other knights and assist them in any way we can. We do not know for certain what it is we’ll find, however, judging by the state the knight returned in, it will potentially be very dangerous.” Here, he paused for a moment, as if unsure as to how best to say his next words, “This isn’t for certain, but it is likely, going by what little information we have, there is an Eidolon and a summoner involved.”

Eyes widened, and students exclaimed glances and murmured to each other. Dedue and Raphael shared a meaningful look, but Byleth’s next words pulled back everyone’s attention, “Now, we must prepare for departure. Everyone, we shall meet outside the monastery gates, ready to march, in one hour. Make sure you’re prepared for anything. Class dismissed.”

Swiftly, the students left the classroom and scattered, all moving to prepare for their sudden march, but Byleth halted Dedue and Raphael.

Waiting until everyone else had left the room, she spoke quietly, “Dedue, can you bring those Aeon records you told me about with you, we may need them. Also, be very careful, if we are indeed going up against someone like you, you might be forced to use your powers. Please, do so wisely, but I’ll do what I can to cover for you if needed.”

They nodded gratefully.

Within the hour, the students were kitted out and ready to march. The Knights of Seiros were also prepared, and Rhea herself stood at the monastery gates to send the force on their way. Beside her stood Seteth, his face grim and his eyes fixed on Flayn with worry, Rhea stepped forward to give a few parting words.

"Knights of Seiros, students of the Officer’s Academy, you are heading towards uncertainty, but I am certain that the Goddess watches over you all, may she see you brought back safely.”

Giving a nod to Jeralt, the captain spoke out commandingly, “Everyone. Move out!”

As they marched off, it was clear to see the difference in this mission than the others, the faces of the knights were grim and worried, and unease hung over the force like storm clouds. The students were at the centre of the group, surrounded by knights who’d clearly been ordered to prioritise their safety, and the three houses were mixed together. There weren’t nearly enough mounts available for everyone, so most were on foot, above them, pegasus knights and wyvern riders flew in formation, with two groups positioned to the side to watch the flanks. Jeralt rode at the head of the force, Catherine was with the rear-guard, Alois headed up the right flank, while another high-ranking knight had command of the left. Manuela was with the healers (she’d be heading up the battlefield infirmary if required) while Byleth took command of the students, with Hanneman assisting as her second.

It would take a day or two to reach their destination, especially since they could only move as fast as the on-foot units, and as night began to fall, they made camp.

The students ended up making several campfires relatively close to each other, causing them to form a loose group around them. Many were sat exhausted, not used to a full day of marching, while those who had mounts were actually standing, suffering from severe saddle soreness. The evening meal was shared out and was mostly eaten in silence for a while.

“So, we’re potentially going to be going up against an Eidolon.”

People’s eyes looked to Edelgard, who was focused on Dedue. He returned her gaze and she continued speaking, “I was wondering if Duscur had ever had any dealings with such things, there is little information to be found on what Eidolons are actually capable of in Fόdlan. I was hoping maybe someone from outside might have more information, it isn’t good to go into battle with so little information.”

Dedue carefully considered his answer and decided that some common knowledge wouldn’t cause a problem.

“We have had summoners in Duscur before, but they were always treated with great suspicion, if you ever even came across one.”

“Really?”

He nodded, “Yes, the legends say that summoners were once revered, they were believed to be granted their gifts by Duscur’s gods. However, they became embroiled in a devastating war that nearly destroyed all of Duscur, ever since then they’ve been regarded with great distrust, whatever few survived.”

“I see.”

Around them, the other students had become far more interested, and Dimitri joined in the conversation, “Did the legends ever detail what the Eidolons could do? I agree that knowing everything we can could be very helpful for what lies ahead.”

“A little information couldn’t hurt.” Diablos encouraged, “If they believe that it was merely as an interest, we might be able to explain a little more. If it truly is an Eidolon we’re about to face, the more they know about how we work the better, they are woefully unprepared to face one.”

Dedue hesitated and glanced at Raphael, the younger boy gave a little nod, and he then looked to Byleth who was also part of the group. She too gave a consenting nod, likely also believing that more information would be better at this point.

Carefully, he reached into his pack behind him and lifted out his family’s records. He could use the fact it was written in his mother tongue to his advantage, editing what it said to make it look like a record of interest, rather than because of his inherited power.

“Actually, my family kept records on any summoners they encountered, they wanted to know how to deal with them.”

Dimitri looked surprised when he recognised the book, “I remember that! I bought it for you because I recognised it as Duscan writing, I didn’t realise it was your family’s to begin with.”

Dedue nodded, “When I left my home, I ended up leaving it behind. I’m not sure how it ended up in the marketplace after so many years.”

“Wait, you have a book with information on Eidolons!?”

Their conversation had clearly attracted Catherine’s attention, and her tone made it clear she considered said book to be very dangerous.

“Its just information about them.” Dedue quickly stated, “There’s nothing in here that could teach you how to use an Eidolon.”

She still looked uneasy, but Jeralt (who’d also joined the gathering) spoke up in Dedue’s defence, “Catherine, we know the church’s teachings about Eidolons, I can read Duscan and have checked that book myself, you couldn’t possibly use it to summon an Eidolon. Its just information on what they can do, information we could sorely need soon. I was the one who told Byleth to ask him to bring it.”

She seemed mollified, likely seeing the captain’s point on the information’s value, “I understand.” She nodded to Dedue, “What does it say?”

He carefully opened it and held it in such a way so people could see inside as he leafed through a few pages (making sure to avoid Charon’s entry), “The problem is that each Eidolon is unique, they grant different types of magic, so unless we know which Eidolon we’re potentially up against, you can’t really plan for them.”

“So, what sort of magic have they been known to grant.” Claude asked with obvious interest.

“Lots of different types.” Dedue answered, “Some grant fire magic, ice magic, defensive magic, healing magic, holy magic…”

“Holy magic?” It was Lysithea who asked this time.

“It’s apparently similar, or at least looks similar, to Faith magic. This book sometimes calls it Light magic as well.”

Marianne looked uneasy, “How could an Eidolon grant magic similar to the Goddess?”

“No doubt it has differences.” Catherine answered. She then nodded to Dedue, apparently her interest now overruling her concern, “What else?”

“Well, the magic is far more varied than Faith or Reason.” He continued, “There’s also been enhancement magic, wind magic, even time-space magic.”

By this point, Hanneman had joined the discussion, and his monocle popped out in surprise at what he heard, “Did you say time-space magic!?”

Dedue nodded, and eyes widened at this, Hubert seemed to be very interested, “So, its possible that there’s a summoner who can control even time. Quite interesting.”

“According to this, only very locally.” Dedue answered, “As in, their spells only affect a single target or small group, and only temporarily. There’s been no record of someone affecting the world at large or even a reasonable force with it. They couldn’t freeze an entire army in time or anything, at least not according to this.”

“So, even Eidolons have limits.” Annette mused, “I guess that’s good news for us.”

“Yes, but the Eidolon itself has far greater power than the summoner.” Dedue continued, “The summoner can call upon their Eidolon and bring them into the world, though its dangerous to do so.”

“In what way is it dangerous?” Edelgard inquired, “If the Eidolon is far greater than the summoner, why not summon them.”

“Because of the power required.” He answered, “This says that an Eidolon can only come into the world if they are summoned, but maintaining their presence uses up a lot of magic power. It wouldn’t take long before the summoner collapses from exhaustion, and if the summoner doesn’t sustain their presence, then the Eidolon can’t stay.”

“So, if an Eidolon is responsible for what’s happening, the best way to stop it would be to remove the summoner?” Catherine asked.

While very uncomfortable with what she meant by ‘remove’, Dedue nodded, “Yes, without a summoner, the Eidolon shouldn’t be able to do anything.”

She smiled, “That’s good to know.”

“Is there anything else?” Claude put in.

Once again, Dedue hesitated, but saw an opportunity to maybe have people consider summoners slightly differently from the way they were portrayed.

“Yes, but it’s not necessarily related to fighting them.”

“That may be the case, but it would be good to know just in case.” Dimitri encouraged.

Dedue hesitated a little more, then spoke once again, “Well, according to the book, it says that only a few Eidolons require a ritual or pact to gain their powers. They’re called ‘Grand Summons’ and they’re said to be far stronger than normal ones. The book claims that most summoners are born with their powers.”

“What!” Hanneman looked absolutely shocked, “I always thought you had to form a contract with them, but your people believed summoners were born with their magic?”

“It could be possible.” Edelgard put in, “I mean, the reason we need this book is because there is very little knowledge kept about summoners, and there’s no clear answer as to where their power comes from.”

Claude seemed to be of a similar mind, “I mean, some of the magic listed there doesn’t sound particularly demonic, like healing magic. That doesn’t strike me as ‘conquering the world’ type magic.”

“That as it may be. The church still clearly claims summoning as forbidden magic, and if we are about to face a summoner, our task is clear.” Catherine stated. She looked meaningfully at the group, “Now, we will start marching early tomorrow, I suggest you all turn in soon, the knights will handle keeping watch.”

She strode away to continue with her duties, and Hanneman soon departed as well. Jeralt lingered a moment to nod at them all before he too returned to work. The students however, continued the discussion, Dimitri questioning Edelgard.

“Edelgard, you seem rather critical of the church’s teachings about summoners?”

“Perhaps I am.” She responded, “But I believe there is reason to be. Apart from declaring them to be evil, the church says little about why they are branded as such. The reasons given are all stories and folktales told by others, even the method of becoming a summoner is merely in hearsay.”

“What do you mean?”

Her eyes regarded the whole group, “Professor Hanneman said that summoners formed contracts with Eidolons, gaining their powers. Yet, in the Empire alone, I’ve heard that summoning magic is a form of blood magic or requires virgin sacrifice, I’ve even heard that summoning is a form of tribal Dagdan magic.”

Petra piped up, “In Brigid, Eidolons are considered dark spirits, wishing to spread chaos.”

“And many in the Alliance think it originally comes from Almyra.” Claude added.

Dimitri frowned, “What is your point Edelgard?”

The girl fixed him with a look, “Why are there so many variations on where summoning magic comes from and what it actually is? Any information about them is more akin to rumours and fairy tales, than actual facts. The only solid information we have is that the church declares the practice evil.” She gestured at the book in Dedue’s hands, “That book is the closest we have to an actual credible source of information on the subject, and we only have that because a family decide to uncover and record information. If summoning is indeed evil, why does the church not give us solid information and proof as to why?”

Around the group, several students were frowning, considering her words.

“This is remarkable, its like they’ve never thought to question it before.” Diablos commented in Dedue’s head, and he could see the Aeon’s point.

He’d noticed a kind of ignorance that the people of Fόdlan seemed to share. They had never seemed to question what they were told, crests were considered a thing of great prestige, yet on paper, they merely gave minor boosts to certain things and let someone use particular weapons. He’d seen crestless students match and even surpass those with crests at the academy, Sylvain’s crest didn’t stop Dedue from beating him in most of their spars, and Raphael was physically stronger than most, even before he got all his crests transplanted. Everyone just seemed to assume crest holders were better because that’s what they’d been told all their lives, the same way they believed summoners to be evil because everyone said so.

This in mind, he joined the conversation.

“Why does the church have so much power?”

At his question, all eyes fell upon him, and he clarified what he meant, “In Duscur, we worshipped several gods, who had different roles. Naturally, we had our equivalent of the church as well, an organisation dedicated to overseeing religion, but they did not have the power the Church of Seiros does.”

Mercedes looked at him in interest, “What do you mean?”

“They did not have their own army.” He answered, “Nor did they have the authority to execute those who wronged them. It seems strange that the Church of Seiros has both an army as well as the authority to mete out severe punishment when it deems fit.”

“But the church is the representatives of the Goddess.” Marianne spoke up quietly, “They have her authority.”

“Yet they act in a manner that does not necessarily line up with what they teach.” Edelgard stated, “They teach that the Goddess is loving, yet declare her punishment for those who disagree with them. The ones who broke into the Holy Mausoleum were barely given a trial before being sentenced to death, and summoners can be killed outright with no trial or chance to defend because it is claimed to be the Goddess’ will. What loving goddess would condone the murder of certain people?”

Marianne looked visibly shaken and upset by Edelgard’s words, “But the Goddess…”

Knowing how much she prayed, Dedue intervened, “I do not think the Goddess herself is evil, but it sometimes seems that the church is using its power in ways that are not right. We only have their word that everything they teach is of the Goddess but ultimately, the church is comprised of flawed people.”

This seemed to console her a little, “So, you think some might be abusing the Goddess’ teachings?”

“Possibly.” He smiled a little, “Though we had several gods, the Goddess was recognised in Duscur as well. We believe the gods of other nations are those nations guardians, and the Goddess of Fόdlan is considered benevolent.”

She smiled at that, “I see.”

“Returning to the matter at hand.” Edelgard continued, “The most reliable source of information we have on summoners claims that they are born with their powers, if that were the case, it would put the church’s condemnation of them in a whole new light.”

Dimitri was frowning, “I see your point Edelgard, but is this not merely supposition at this moment. You said yourself that the origin of summoning is unknown.”

“But that book does seem more reliable than other sources.” Claude threw in, “I mean, it was written by people who’d actually encountered summoners.” He looked to Dedue, “Right?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

Claude smiled, “So what is more likely to be true, tales passed on by people who’ve never met a summoner, or a book written by people who have?”

Dimitri looked between the other two house leaders, clearly finding difficulty in coming up with a counter-argument. He eventually sighed.

“I concede that the book’s claim raises concerns if it is indeed true.”

Claude grinned, “Look, I’m not trying to raise a revolution and claim the church is nothing but lies, but you have to consider other options beyond what you’ve been taught. As Dedue said, the church is run by people who will be flawed, I’m sure more than one person here has experience with systems being corrupted by the wrong people. History attests to it happening.”

By the time the students had turned in for the night, and morning rolled around, they’d been left with a lot to think about.

As she’d warned them, Catherine had them up and marching early, maintaining their formation from the day before. Little of interest happened as they marched, leaving the students plenty of time to continue discussing what was talked about the night before.

It seemed Edelgard’s open questioning of the church had caused others to consider things for themselves. Many were debating the way things were run in Fόdlan, with some, like Ferdinand supporting the current state of things while others, like Sylvain, questioned its integrity. The conversations were held in hushed tones, people mindful of the fact that they were surrounded by church knights, but as if their eyes had been opened, people were questioning what they knew.

Dedue had ended up in several discussions about how Duscur had been, Edelgard, Dimitri and Claude seemed particularly interested in how governance worked, while Mercedes was eager to hear about Duscur’s gods and forms of worship. Considering her devotion to the Goddess, she seemed remarkably understanding of his people’s beliefs. He was also asked to explain further how different types of summoning magic worked, Byleth in particular encouraged these discussions, though from a strategic point of view.

However, the most interesting conversation came when they halted for a brief rest.

Dedue sat exhausted on the ground, it wasn’t easy marching in full armour. Raphael had disappeared to refill their canteens from the river they’d halted beside, leaving him sat on his own until Ingrid came up.

He eyed her in concern, he assumed she was going to question him about what was happening in Duscur, as if he was somehow responsible, but instead she halted a short distance away and fiddled with one of her armour straps nervously.

He stared at her for a bit, then spoke up.

“Are you needing something?”

She opened her mouth as if to speak, before looking away again a few times, before finally blurting out.

“I just wanted to apologise.”

He blinked in surprise, not sure about what he was hearing, “Apologise?”

She stared at the floor, “About how I’ve been treating you.”

His eyes widened, he certainly wasn’t expecting this, and he wasn’t sure what he was meant to say.

She continued speaking, wringing her hands awkwardly, “I had a fiancé once, his name was Glenn, but he was with the King when the Tragedy happened.”

Dedue didn’t respond, getting the feeling that this was something she had to get off her chest.

“Anyway, when Duscur was blamed, I guess I saw an easy target. I was so angry, and grieving, that I didn’t even give what I was told a second thought. I wanted someone to pay, and I convinced myself that what I was told was true, I think I’ve been conditioned to think that way about a lot of things.” She looked up at him, “But now, I can’t help but look at what happened and question it.”

“In what way?”

She sighed, “Most ways. I’ve spoken to a lot of people at the Academy and seen a lot of viewpoints. Seteth said some things I couldn’t stop thinking about, and then Dimitri told me what you said to him.”

Dedue’s mind drifted back to the marketplace, and the awkward conversation he’d had with the prince, “You mean where he asked me if I hated Faerghus?”

She nodded, “Yes, and when he told me how you answered, I couldn’t believe it, I wanted to cling onto my beliefs, I don’t think I wanted to be wrong. Then everyone found out about Raphael now having crests, and when I saw how he suddenly went from someone nobles didn’t care for, to a person they all wanted to know, it started to hit home.”

She hesitated a little before continuing, “My family is poor for nobles, my father wants me to marry to help us with our financial situation, and my crest means that lots of wealthy people are interested.” She sighed, “When Raphael started getting all those marriage proposals, I couldn’t help but see my situation. They only wanted him for his crests, the same way they only wanted me for mine, and the more I looked at it, the more I saw how wrong and stupid it was.”

She shook her head, “Once I started looking at things in that way, I couldn’t help but look at what was done to Duscur, and the brutal hypocrisy of it. How an entire country suffered for the actions of a few, and last night, when Edelgard and the others were talking about the problems with the church, it really opened my eyes.”

She looked directly at him, “Anyway, I wanted to apologise, and it probably isn’t nearly enough, but I want you to know that I hope to at least get on a little better with you.”

Dedue sat in silence for a long time, considering her words and sincerity, before finally responding.

“I accept your apology.”

She gasped in surprise, but eventually recovered and gave a small bow, “Thank you. I hope to prove myself worthy of your acceptance.”

With a farewell nod, she departed, and Dedue watched as Dimitri intercepted her and said something, confirming his suspicions as to who else had done a lot of the work of bringing Ingrid to her new viewpoint.

As expected, they had to stop for the night once again, and the campfire discussions were mostly taken up by strategy for the next day. They’d reach what was once Duscur by midmorning, and they wanted to be ready for whatever was waiting.

The final stage of the march was silent, everyone was alert and poised with their destination so close. Verbal commands were replaced with silent signals as they pushed on into Duscur, only the seriousness of their mission stopping Dedue from completely halting in shock at his first sight in years of his homeland.

Duscur was a dead land.

He’d heard that it’d been rendered barren, but seeing it was another story. The soil was burnt and broken, with little to no greenery to be seen. Occasionally they passed the ruined remains of Duscan homes, a few burnt timbers left to fall apart on their own. Even the forests hadn’t been spared, blackened stumps left where once stood mighty trees, and no animals could be seen or heard.

It was destroyed so much, Dedue didn’t recognise where they were going, only realising when Diablos prompted him gently.

“Dedue, we’re heading towards your home village.”

He gasped and stumbled, feeling Raphael’s hand grab his arm and support him, worried gazes were cast towards him by the other students, and they wordlessly pressed in a little closer to him. Unfortunately, it was his home village that they were heading for.

He couldn’t bring himself to gaze around at his old home when Jeralt called a halt in what was once the village square.

“We’ll halt here. I’ve sent scouts on ahead to see if they can locate Shamir’s group, we’ll await their return.”

As the knights fell out to rest and patrol, Jeralt headed straight for Dedue, who by this point was visibly shaking and pointedly looking down. Waving away the other students, the man spoke gently, “Dedue?”

The boy’s voice was barely above a whisper, “This was my home.”

The captain’s eyes widened, and he quickly gestured to Raphael, “Take care of him, have a sit down somewhere.”

The younger boy nodded and began guiding Dedue away, but he shook his head.

“No, I need to face this.”

Jeralt appraised him, worry clear on his face, “Are you sure?”

Dedue nodded and finally brought his eyes up to look upon the ruins of his old home.

As expected, it had been burnt and abandoned, while Diablos had destroyed a lot of it when he defeated the giant wolves years earlier, the people had clearly rebuilt it as it was. The layout was the same as he remembered, and memories of him as a child playing in the square sprung to mind.

Now though, only remnants remained, empty buildings sat like grim sentinels, their insides gutted by flames years earlier. There’d been a statue in the square, honouring the god of the earth, but it had been torn down and smashed, its pieces left scattered across the remains.

His eyes fell on the village hall, the largest of the village’s buildings and where many events and festivals had taken place. He found himself being drawn towards it, paying no heed to Raphael right on his heels, or the other students following at a more respectable distance.

It too had been touched by fire, the walls blackened and burnt, however, more of it still stood, strong stone walls continuing to stand. He stepped through what had once been impressive double doors, long since burned to ash and halted just inside. Stricken by what he found.

For endless moments, he merely stared, barely comprehending what he saw, then it came, the churning bubbling emotion as he finally understood and felt what it meant for Duscur to be destroyed.

He didn’t notice Raphael tightly hugging him, as he fell to his knees, anguished sobs bursting forth at the cruel, horrific fact laid before him.

Human remains left piled across the floor, a countless number of bones, some blackened and burnt beyond all recognition, leaving a clear indication of their fate.

They’d been burnt alive inside their own village hall.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around him, and Dedue turned his head to sob into Jeralt’s chest, neither caring nor noticing the students that had followed him in.

Horrific didn’t cover it.

Claude and the others had only followed out of concern, keeping a respectful distance. They’d immediately picked up the pace when they heard Dedue’s cry of pure grief, but Jeralt had beaten them to it, instantly hugging the boy to him, with Raphael clinging onto his brother from the other side. Their eyes quickly turned upon what was before them and Claude went numb.

“This is…its…”

Ashe’s quiet voice fell silent, and Claude understood why. How could you describe this? He heard frantic muttering, and he knew Marianne was praying for all her worth and it faded away as Mercedes guided her away from the mass grave. He glanced around, and saw that Ingrid had become deathly pale, she swayed slightly and looked about to keel over until Sylvain caught her, half-carrying her out. Before she left, he heard her speaking, almost to herself in a hollow voice.

“How could I ever have considered this noble?”

Lorenz and Ferdinand seemed to be bristling with fury, the eloquent nobles apparently too enraged to speak. Felix looked blank, and Claude didn’t know what to make of it when the boy turned and left with barely a word. Annette had started to tug the still shocked Ashe outside, her hands visibly shaking as she did so. Dimitri’s face had turned to stone, his expression swirling with so many emotions it was impossible to tell what he was thinking, Sylvain briefly reappeared to firmly pull the prince out. Petra was speaking in her own tongue, and Claude got the feeling she was performing some sort of religious rite from Brigid, once done, she bowed to the remains before them and left. Caspar was muttering angrily, Lindhart trying his best to drag the boy out but not succeeding until Leonie and Ignatz finally helped him.

Claude’s eyes fell on Edelgard and Hubert, their faces impassive as they stared. The princess shared a look with him, before following the remaining students out, all stone-faced and horrified. Before he followed suit, he glanced at Byleth, who’d arrived last. She stood as still as a stone looking like some ancient monolith, her face unreadable as she gazed upon the testament to Faerghus’ brutality. Then, as if becoming another person, her eyes softened as she joined the family hug around Dedue, helping guide the grief-stricken boy out into the light and away from the traumatic sight.

Later, when Dimitri finally broke his silence and declared his intent to give the remains a proper burial, Claude and many others joined him without hesitation.

Chapter Text

Horsebow Moon, Imperial Year 1180

Their self-appointed task was long and grisly work.

They didn’t have proper tools for digging, making do with blades and hands instead. They chose to start right in front of the broken statue, considering it a suitable resting place for the victims they intended to honour. Unfortunately, the ground was hard and difficult to dig, but Dimitri began using his lance to stab the earth, taking advantage of his additional strength to break it apart. Caspar soon joined in, and the pair of them worked away diligently, breaking the soil enough to enable others to begin digging it out properly.

Most of the Blue Lions worked with a certain fervour, Ingrid in particular, but it would still take a long time. Marianne, moving with a determination that was unexpected, led a small group back into the village hall. What they were doing was unknown, but no one questioned it and Flayn took a few others off elsewhere, briefly mentioning something about finding some sort of flowers for the grave.

To be honest, they had no real plan, the easiest thing would be to dig a large grave and simply throw the remains in, but no one seemed to be comfortable with that method, so they continued to dig.

Around them, the Knights of Seiros muttered and looked between themselves, clearly confused by the students’ actions, but did nothing to stop them. Whether they had Jeralt to thank for that or not was unclear, but they appreciated being left to it.

They hadn’t been working long when Dedue, stony-faced but now dry-eyed, appeared, Raphael and Byleth in tow. Work briefly halted, the students unsure what to say, however, Dedue stepped forward and joined the work, eyes steady. Without words, they continued, Raphael joining Dimitri and Caspar while Byleth disappeared into the building after Marianne’s group. Their work sped up somewhat after this, for Fenrir, by Dedue’s side as always, joined the digging, the wolf’s claws eagerly raking up the soil and moving more than the students.

Work continued in a subdued manner, words only exchanged to give instructions or make suggestions, and it was only once they had a reasonably sized hole, did they discover what Marianne’s group had been doing.

They left, carrying a rough stretcher between them and on it was some of the remains, mainly one skeleton arranged as respectfully as they could. Clearly, she’d decided that they were going to do their best to match the remains and bury the dead in as complete a manner as possible.

Understanding her intent, Dimitri helped them lower the first skeleton into the grave they’d dug, there was a moment of silence for the unknown person, then Dedue and Dimitri levered the excavated earth back into the grave, burying the first of the victims.

Wordlessly, work began on a second, as Marianne’s group went back inside once more, and the cycle continued. A grave would be dug, a body would be brought out and then respectfully buried, the students doggedly worked on, but there were times where one or two of them needed to stop for a moment. The times a child’s skeleton was brought out were particularly harrowing, the first time caused Ingrid to nearly collapse, her face white with horror, and Flayn audibly sobbed. Others swallowed hard and pressed on, continuing their act of decency and, from the perspective of some of the Blue Lions, repentance.

Finally, as daylight was rapidly fading, the final grave was covered, the last of the victims finally giving respectful rest after too many years. The students stood in silence, staring at the rows of graves they’d dug, Flyan’s group had failed to find any flowers, however, they had come across some brightly coloured stones, possibly painted at some point in the past, and carefully placed one on each grave.

Most of them looked to Dedue, unsure as to what to do next. While Mercedes and Marianne knew some of the church’s funeral rites, it felt disrespectful to the Duscan people to use them for this situation. Instead, Dedue stepped forward, clasped his hands in prayer, and spoke in his mother tongue. In respect, the students bowed their heads as he spoke, not knowing what he was saying, but maintaining their silence. Eventually, he finished speaking, bowed to the graves, then turned to his classmates, his eyes tearful with gratitude.

“Thank you.”

There were a few nods of acknowledgement, but nothing was said, for there was nothing that needed to be said, and he walked away from the graves, Raphael at his side, back towards where Jeralt was waiting at the entrance of his tent.

Normally, the two boys had a tent of their own, but no one was going to comment on them staying with Jeralt that night. As the students also dispersed, preparing for rest as the knights continued to await the scouts’ return, Claude was struck by this moment of unity the houses had shared, and the work they’d done to honour those who’d been left unhonoured.

However, the true horror of their mission was nigh.

It was the sentry’s alarm horn blaring in the night that marked the beginning.

Trained for this, those who were asleep were quickly roused and readying for battle. Jeralt bounded out of his tent, already armed and shouting at the watchman.

“Sentries, report!”

The sentry’s voice was audibly shaking as he stammered out his reply, “C…Captain, enemies approaching from the north. Its…its…”

“Pull yourself together man!” the Captain shouted harshly, “Who is approaching us?”

The man’s voice was a terrified howl, “It’s the dead Captain! The dead are walking!”

“What the hell!” Jeralt sprinted to the sentry’s position, eyes fixed northwards for merely a moment before he was shouting orders.

“Everyone prepare for battle! Knights form a defensive perimeter, focused northwards. Alois, take your men to the left flank, do not let them surround us, Catherine, take the right. Byleth, you and the students protect the rear, flying units, get yourselves air-born and prepare to cover us from above!”

The knights and students obeyed swiftly, taking up their positions with Byleth organising the students. The air was charged with anticipation and apprehension, they’d all heard the sentry’s words, but there was little time to consider them. Raphael stood shoulder to shoulder with Dedue, and behind him, he heard Lysithea gave a groan.

“This magic, what is it? It feels so…wrong.”

He briefly glanced back seeing her brow creased in discomfort, the other mages also seemed to be feeling something similar, with the Faith users looking particularly pale. Reaching out with his own magic, Raphael sensed what they were feeling.

“This power, this is far too dark for any normal magic.”

He agreed with Alexander, it felt oppressive, like a humid day, even the stars in night sky above seemed dimmer, as if a shadow had cast itself over them all, it made him feel sick.

“Professor!” Claude’s call, from where he was riding his wyvern above them, came down, the boy’s usually confident voice shaky and fearful, “I can see them coming from ahead of us as well, heading in from the south!”

“Students, steady yourselves.” Byleth’s encouraging voice sounded from the middle of their front line, as all eyes fixed on the darkness ahead, “Flyers, keep watch over our flanks and rear, I’m sure the knights can hold their positions, but we can’t be too careful. Frontline, brace yourselves, maintain formation and focus on defence, do not charge in recklessly. Archers and mages, ready your bows and spells, aim carefully.”

Behind him, Raphael heard Lysithea begin chanting and create a spell formula, priming it to activate the moment she needed it to. Beside her, Ashe nocked his bow, carefully raising it and aiming between the front ranks, ready to fire. Next to him, Dedue took a solid stance, moving his shield to block himself and Raphael in preparation, all along their formation, the students steeled themselves, readying as they heard the erratic thumping of approaching footsteps.

Then they appeared.

Looming out of the darkness, the enemy approached, and it was only Byleth’s firm command that stopped many of them from going into shock at what they saw.

“Steady!”

Shuffling swiftly in a disorganised mob, the enemy approached. Stretched grey skin pulled taught over bone, moving with an awkward, jerky gait as if they were hideous puppets on twisted strings. Sightless eyes seemingly staring at the students before them, and not a single noise being issued, except that which was caused by their moving feet.

The dead came towards them.

“Ranged units, fire!”

Byleth’s sharp command rang out, and an array of arrows and spells launched themselves at the monsters coming their way. Some momentarily halted before moving forward once more, arrows sticking out of their torsos seemingly doing nothing to stop them. Those hit by Lysithea and Hubert’s dark spells also showed no affects, shrugging off the usually potent spells as if they were minor irritancies. Other forms of magic were more effective, Lorenz’s fire spell burnt one to ash, setting fire to its neighbour at the same time and destroying it too, Dorothea’s lightning blew one apart while Annette’s wind spell cut straight through another, causing it to fall to the ground and twitch disgustingly. The most effective however were the Faith spells, one of Marianne’s pillars of light completely disintegrated its target, and Alexander swiftly took note.

“Raphael, I think these things are animated by dark magic, Faith magic should be particularly potent.”

Wasting no time, the boy yelled to Byleth, “Professor, they seem to be really weak to Faith magic!”

The professor acknowledged the shout, and swiftly gave another command, “Faith users, focus on attacking, Lysithea, Hubert, your spells aren’t affecting them, take over healing duties as best as you can!”

Even if it wasn’t their best subject, all magic users learned at least basic healing, it made sense to have as many people capable of emergency first aid as possible. Though accepting her command, Hubert threw out some advice of his own.

“The magic animating them seems to be focused on the head, remove that and it should stop them!”

With the first of the creatures upon them, there was no more time for talk.

Dedue’s axe ripped through the neck of one, causing its body to collapse and cease movement, a rush of darkness spilling out of the wound. Raphael had switched to his own axe instead of his gauntlets for the fight, and he took out a second. A third was nearly upon him when an arrow buried itself into its eye socket, it staggered back and fell, dark magic pouring out of the wound. One of Marianne’s light pillars managed to strike three at once, causing them to disintegrate into dust while Ingrid swooped down on her pegasus, her lance blade cleaving though the neck of another that was about to overwhelm Dedue.

Though showing no form of organisation, the creatures were relentless, heedlessly pressing forward with neither thought nor regard to themselves. The students tried to valiantly maintain their defensive line, but the enemy’s reckless aggression swiftly weakened it, turning it into a more mobile battle.

Byleth seemed to be everywhere at once, cleaving through necks with the Sword of the Creator and disintegrating foes with her faith magic. Petra was nimbly moving about the battlefield, striking from the strangest of places and saving hard-pressed front-line fighters. The flyers, under Claude’s command, engaged in hit-and-run tactics, swooping down to strike and swiftly taking to the skies once again, using their advantage of flight to its fullest. Ferdinand had taken control of the horseback fighters, and they ploughed through the enemy in tight formation, relieving pockets of students valiantly defending themselves from the onslaught. Dimitri was a whirlwind of destruction, his lance flashing about like a living thing, stabbing and slicing as bodies fell like wheat before a reaper. Felix was equally ferocious, and the two of them carved their way through the throngs, seemingly unaware of the way they were instinctively covering each other’s back. Sylvain had managed to organise the remaining students into a moving circle with the mages and archers at its centre, the group’s numbers swelling thinks to the efforts of the flyers, mounted units and Petra. The circle slowly rotated, weapons pointed outwards and creating a wheel of blades, defending the ranged units within as they threw out spells and arrows.

Raphael and Dedue were back-to-back, trying to fight their way towards Sylvain’s circle. Their respective axes swung around them, striking down their foe as they covered each other’s blind spots. However, no matter how many were struck down, the enemy numbers never seemed to diminish, then Raphael spotted the lone figure at the edge of the fight.

They were hard to make out in the chaos and darkness, but they were watching the battle, interestingly enough, they would occasionally raise their hand, and more of the creatures would rise from the ground and join the battle.

They’d found who was responsible.

“Him, I’m certain they are a summoner.”

Alexander’s voice spoke clear and confident, and Raphael nudged Dedue during a brief lull in their fight.

“Over there, he’s the one causing this.”

Quickly managing to see where Raphael was indicating, the older boy dispatched another creature before laying out a plan.

“Understood, we’re far enough away from the others, I’ll slow them, and you charge him.”

“Got it!”

Beating off a few more, the older boy raised his axe towards the group between them and the summoner.

“Slowra!”

Immediately, the creatures slowed, their movements reduced to a snail's pace, and Raphael broke away and charged through towards his target. The enemy summoner stepped back in surprise, briefly shocked by the assault, and the boy wasted no time capitalising on it.

“Holy!”

The man looked down as light ruptured up from the ground, throwing him back, swiftly bearing down on him, Raphael swung his axe, scoring a deep wound in the summoner’s chest. He cried out in pain, but swiftly held his hand out towards some of his creatures.

“Consume!”

Dark magic was dragged out of his creations, the bodies falling lifeless to the ground as it swirled through the air and was absorbed into him. Within moments, the wound Raphael had caused healed over, and the summoner stood strong.

“I see that this’ll prove a greater confrontation than I thought. This battle is yours, but nothing can stop what is to come.”

Raphael opened his mouth to cast another spell, but the summoner spat out a single spell of his own.

“Raven Wing!”

A flurry of feathers whirled around the enemy, blocking him from the boy’s view, when they finally dispersed, the summoner was nowhere to be found.

Swiftly looking to the battle behind him, Raphael saw the creatures stutter to a halt before falling over, nothing more than corpses once more. A deathly hush fell over the battlefield, and Raphael shared a meaningful look with Dedue.

It was only going to get worse.

The aftermath was grim, to say the least.

Even the highly trained knights had been shaken by what had happened, and Jeralt had ordered all the remains of the enemy to be gathered up and burned. In terms of losses, they’d come off lightly, the creatures had been disorganised and simple, so the trained knights had easily fought them off and Raphael engaging the summoner had avoided them being overwhelmed by sheer numbers and exhaustion. Injuries were prevalent amongst the students, and healing was slower since their Faith users had tired themselves out using their aggressive spells during the battle.

It wasn’t long before Raphael and Dedue were reporting what happened to the commanders.

“So, there is someone creating these…things.” Catherine shook her head, “This is not looking good.”

“But the moment they left the creatures were no longer animated.” Jeralt mused, “That means that dealing with this person will prevent them from making anymore.”

“Easier said than done.” Hanneman responded, “To create such things, and so many of them would require an incredible amount of magic. There’s no spell I know of that can do such a thing.”

“So then, is it likely the work of an Eidolon?” Catherine enquired, “Considering the power involved, and the nature of what happened, that seems most likely. We suspected as much before we even set out from Garreg Mach.”

Dedue glanced at Raphael, both of them were thinking the same thing, and they both knew of an Eidolon whose potential magic matched up to what was happening. Unfortunately, it would hit a little too close to the church and what they taught.

Deciding that holding silence could prove more detrimental if their hunch was right, Dedue spoke up quietly.

“Actually, there is mention of an Eidolon whose rumoured powers match up.”

Catherine perked up, “Really, which one?”

He hesitated, “Well, my ancestor only encountered stories, so it could well be wrong, but there were tales of an Eidolon who granted necromancy.”

“Necromancy.” Hanneman looked aghast, “How could anyone conceive of using such a perverted art?”

“They are only stories.” Dedue affirmed, “But that magic makes the Eidolon be considered one of the most dangerous. My ancestor made it very clear that their power should not be sought out.”

“What was this Eidolon’s name?” Catherine asked, “Did they know?”

Again, Dedue glanced at Raphael, then took a deep breath before answering, “According to the book, the Eidolon was referred to as Charon.”

Silence reigned as his answer sunk in, with Catherine being the first to speak, “Charon! As in Charon of the Ten Elites?”

Dedue swiftly shook his head, “There is not much to confirm it. My ancestor was confused as to why they shared a name, it is possible that the Eidolon is not connected to the Ten Elites in any way, merely sharing a name with one of them.” He frowned, “Duscur and Fόdlan have often been in opposition to each other. It is possible that the Duscan people long ago named an Eidolon they feared after one of the Elites out of spite.”

Jeralt nodded, “That might well be the case, or the stories gave the wrong name to your ancestor.” He moved the discussion on, “The main point is that there are stories of an Eidolon that can grant necromancy, considering what happened here, this Eidolon is likely responsible.”

Catherine nodded, “Yes, you’re right. I’ll inform the knights about what we’ll potentially be up against. It might be best if we start moving.”

Jeralt agreed, “Agreed, the main force came from the north, we know the summoner was creating the ones the students dealt with, but the others marched in like an army. It is likely that our enemy has based himself further north, so we’ll march that way. I know we were waiting for the scouts but considering what happened…”

“I understand.” Catherine departed, likely to begin mobilising the knights, and Jeralt addressed Byleth, “Get the students ready, if I could I’d prefer to send them back to the monastery, but I think we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

She nodded wordlessly.

Soon, they were once again on the march, unease hanging over them all alongside the lingering emotions of the previous battle.

Despite their half-night of sleep, no one felt tired. They were running on a nervous energy, alert and watchful to all around them as they marched in silence. Once again, commands were giving via signals rather than verbally, and as they pressed onward, more than unease began hanging over them.

“That magic is back.”

Lysithea’s statement was quiet, but audible, and Hubert was quick to agree.

“Indeed, though it is very faint. I believe it is coming from some distance up ahead.”

Edelgard, glanced back at her retainer, “Is it another army heading our way.”

He shook his head, “I do not believe so. It feels more like we’re heading towards it instead of it coming towards us.”

Suddenly, Jeralt’s hand swung up in command to halt and the knights and students stopped their march. Lysithea spoke to Dedue, “Why have we stopped, can you see?”

Since he was a full head taller than most, Dedue could clearly see over the front ranks, and he describe what was going on to the others.

“There seems to be a small group heading our way. I don’t think they’re an enemy, at least, it’s far too small a group to actually be a threat.” He fell silent for a moment as the mysterious group approached, until they were close enough to identify.

“It’s Shamir and a couple of knights, they look pretty rough. Jeralt’s gone to meet them but I think they’re all that’s left of the patrols that were sent here before us.”

Jeralt and Shamir conversed for a long while, the woman likely giving her report which, if their expressions were anything to go by, was not pleasant or good.

Jeralt dismissed them and Shamir and what was left of her knights merged with the main force, Manuela and several healers rushing in to tend to their clear wounds. Jeralt faced them all, his face even grimmer than before.

“Everyone, our enemy has made their main camp up ahead. According to Shamir, they are preparing for some sort of major ritual. Our mission is to disrupt this ritual and bring those responsible to justice. They are desperate and dangerous, this will be a kill or be killed battle, but if we fail, what happened last night will nothing compared to what will come.”

He nodded to Catherine, who stood before them and held Thunderbrand aloft.

“Knights of Seiros, you vowed to serve the Goddess. Know that we carry out this task in her name, do your faith proud and remember that she protects us!”

The knights cheered in response, and the march began anew.

As they approached, the magic they could sense grew stronger.

By now, it was as if the very air had been tainted, and the sun, that had finally risen as they marched, seemed dim and cold. Everyone was now uncomfortable, even the non-mages sensing the corruption around them and all were grim-faced and alert.

The force divided into three separate groups, one lead by Catherine, one Lead by Alois, and the third under Jeralt’s command. This group also contained the students, ordered to keep close formation and retreat behind the knights if necessary. The plan was simple, Catherine’s force was to be the frontal assault, buying time for Alois and Jeralt to lead their forces in a pincer movement around the enemy. Their main aim was to eliminate the summoner, halting the ritual and preventing him from raising an army.

It went wrong from the very beginning.

They never even got a chance to initiate their strategy, instead they were greeted by a whirl of black feathers, causing the summoner and several others to materialise mere feet in front of them.

“Greetings, Knights of Seiros.”

In the light of day, their enemy’s features were clear and easily recognised as Duscan, and Dedue’s breath hitched in his throat.

Catherine, however, was already moving, seizing the opportunity that had been presented. With incredible swiftness, she cleared the distance between them and swung Thunderbrand, the blade alight as if with anticipation. The summoner did not move, nor even attempt to fight back or dodge, and the relic bit deep, cleaving him in two with one swing.

The summoner fell in silence, and Catherine had enough time to turn and view her handiwork, before a louder, chilling voice echoed around them.

“Well done, descendant of mine. While anyone could’ve completed the final part of this ritual, I am rather pleased it was a bearer of my blood that did so.”

The knight swiftly retreated; eyes fixed on the corpse she’d made.

Blood flowed upwards, horrifically twisting into a human shape. The Duscans around it fell to their knees, arms held upwards as if in worship. Some sort of energy was drained out of them, and their bodies aged before their very eyes, rapidly fading into dust. This energy swirled around the twisting blood, causing it to solidify and change, morphing into flesh and armour, soon becoming a towering humanoid figure, wielding an all too familiar blade.

Thunderbrand, or at least a dark replica.

The figure looked down, and spoke in a normal tone, as if this were nothing more than a simple conversation.

“I am Charon, first wielder of Thunderbrand and now a master of Necromancy.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Diablos exclaimed, “Are you telling me that the summoner was nothing more than a mask? And how can he be sustaining his existence in this world!?”

Dedue had no answer, Charon had somehow used the death of his summoner to materialise himself, which shouldn’t be possible, not even for a Grand Aeon. Catherine tightened her grip on her weapon, eyes blazing with fury, “Who are you, really!?”

“As I said, I am Charon.” The Eidolon smiled, “I am well aware of Seiros’ lies, and the fairy tale of the ‘Ten Elites’ and the so called ‘blessings of the Goddess’ that are the crests.” He casually swung his own blade around, seemingly playing with it, “Now, while I know we’re inevitably going to fight, I thought a nice chat first wouldn’t go amiss.” He waved his hand carelessly, “Afterwards of course, I’m going to have to continue my plan of decimating Fόdlan with an army of the dead and killing you all along the way, but still.”

He then paused, and looked thoughtful, “Actually, having a chat will involve monologuing, which is never a good idea, so I’ll just move straight onto the decimation part.” He looked down at them all, “I suggest you prepare for battle.”

He raised his version of Thunderbrand, then slammed it point first into the earth. The ground shook and huge cracks split around them, everyone staggered for balance as the earth shifted, dividing their forces in one move. As the ground settled, Dedue clambered to his feet from where he fell and took stock of who was with him.

On the plus side, it was all the students, on the negative side, it was only the students.

Somehow, they’d been shifted behind Charon, and far away from the knights. They were then further divided by large chasms. The Eidolon looked around at his handiwork seemingly pleased.

“Yes, this should be interesting.” His eyes briefly regarded Dedue and Raphael, “Don’t disappoint me now.”

“Dedue!”

Raphael’s cry pulled his attention, and Dedue glanced at him, then down into the chasm where the boy was pointing.

Swarming up the sides came the undead, a countless number of them who were out for blood and now there were even wyverns and pegasi among them. Looking back at the rest of the students, he gave a swift command.

“Form up, now!”

The situation compelling them, they obeyed, forming a defensive circle around their ranged members and healers. Fortunately, there was only one chasm near them from which the dead poured out, but there were more than enough of them to surround them with ease. All too soon, the fight raged.

Hacking, slicing and bashing with his shield, Dedue cut down wave after wave of the undead, around him, all the other students were fighting with desperation. Magic and arrows flew here there and everywhere, blades flashed about like a storm, and everywhere he looked there was grey skin, sightless eyes and twisted teeth. No matter how many were cut down, more would always take their place, and above the battle, Charon continued to speak as if he were discussing the weather.

“Now, while initially against a monologue, I thought it might be nice to tell you all a few things, since you’re here and all. Firstly, why Duscur? Well, it’s quite simple really. When the Kingdom did their, in my opinion, entertaining genocide, a lot of negative emotions such as hate, fear, anger, rage, so on and so forth, permeated the land. I can use those emotions to create my undead army.”

He paused momentarily to address Catherine, “Oh, descendent, watch out for the ones behind you, I’d prefer it if you didn’t die before I finished my explanation.”

He continued, “Now, strictly speaking, calling my magic necromancy is a bit of a lie. I don’t actually raise the dead, instead I create dark magic constructs that look like the dead. However, I can use the lifeforce of others to power myself and enhance my abilities. The ritual you came here to stop was actually completed when you killed my summoner. We had a contract you see, firstly, he sacrificed his connection to the summoning he was born with to make me his Eidolon. Then he offered his life up to allow me to take a permanent form in your world, of course, we had to perform several other sacrifices and steps along the way, but he was very keen to see Faerghus destroyed, and since that was part of my plan anyway, I agreed.”

He briefly left off once more to comment on the battle, “Nice shot from that sniper, the force from that arrow caused one of my creations to do a triple backflip, I’m impressed.”

Beside him, Sylvain spoke out in disbelief between strikes of his lance, “Is this for real!? Is this guy seriously waffling as we get slaughtered!?”

With one of the other groups battling the dead, Hanneman was side-by-side with Manuela.

Surrounded by knights, they fought from within the circle that had been formed. Charon's first move had scattered their army all across the battlefield, and the chasms he'd caused prevented them from joining up, as well as spawning the undead.

Blasting several with fire as Manuela healed one of the armoured knights shielding them, Hanneman glanced Charon's way.

"His power is unbelievable, summoning all these creatures. Just how powerful can an Eidolon be?"

Several were felled by Catherine strikes with Thunderbrand, before she swiftly dived into the circle for healing before joining the frontline again. Tending to her swiftly, Manuela spoke as she did so, "Has anyone seen any of the students!?"

The knight snarled, "No, that thing's crazy attack at the start completely divided us. They must be fighting elsewhere."

Blasting another creature, Hanneman spoke up quickly, "Manuela, I understand your concern but right now, we need to focus on our own survival. The students have been taught enough to defend themselves, and we have no choice but to trust they'll do so."

Catherine shook her head, "That as it may be, none of us are surviving this if we don't stop that Eidolon!"

"I'm not sure how we can." The scholar admitted, "His power is on a level that I have never seen, I think only another Eidolon could stop him."

Charon continued to chat as he watched the battle unfold.

"Its wonderfully ironic if you think about it. The Kingdom's own actions are the reason I'll now be able to destroy them. Their massacre filled Duscur with such negativity, that my powers practically work on their own. The survivors were so full of vengeance, so desperate to get justice that they were willing to do anything for it. When I made my offer, that Scion practically jumped on it, he didn't even question what it was I was asking of him. Soon, he and his followers were bringing me sacrifice after sacrifice. Faerghan men, woman and children taken from their pitiful little farms and homes, some begging for help from their dead and gone fake Goddess. Then he found one suitably filled with anger and jealousy, now what was his name...ah yes! Miklan! All his negative emotions gave my Scion a nice little power boost once he killed him."

Charon then clapped his hands, as if just remembering something, "Oh, before you die! I must thank you for all those knights your church sent this way, their ritual slaughter was most helpful in building enough power for my little comeback, and your valiant defence last night showed me that you'd all make a suitable opening battle for my upcoming butchering of the continent."

He paused, then spoke as if thoughtfully, "You're all holding out rather well, though a few groups have succumbed. I was expecting something a little more though."

They battled on, weariness creeping in as they repeatedly struck down foe after foe.

A scream sounded from above, and Dedue swiftly turned his gaze heavenward to see Ingrid’s pegasus plummeting to the ground, brought down by the undead wyverns that tore it apart as it fell. Ingrid herself had been unsaddled, and she fell as well. With a roar, Caspar flung himself out of the circle, battering enemies this way and that as he threw himself beneath her, barely catching her. A mighty burst of light scattered the foes between them and the circle, and Marianne, her arms outstretched towards them screamed at the top of her lungs.

“MOVE NOW!”

Caspar shouldered Ingrid and sprinted through the opening Marianne had created, returning to the, very relative, safety of the circle. Claude’s wyvern landed with a crash, the beast’s wing torn to shreds as the boy swiftly dismounted and ducked into the defensive ring they’d formed. However, the wyvern wasn’t done yet, and it rose with a roar and flung itself onto the undead hordes, its ferocity buying them precious time.

“Dedue, you know what has to be done here, it’s the only way this madness is going to be stopped!”

The boy nodded grimly, secrecy be damned, they were all going to die if this wasn’t ended soon. Their foe would never stop coming unless Charon was taken out, he had no idea how the knights were faring, but right now, the lives of his classmates was in his hands.

“Raphael!”

At his call, the younger boy looked to him, understanding in his eyes, and he nodded, ready to do what had to be done.

Claude’s wyvern was still rampaging, attracting the attention of the undead and giving them breathing room. Taking advantage, Dedue faced his classmates and spoke swiftly.

“Everyone, me and Raphael are about to do something, I need you to let us do it and protect us while we do so.”

Looks of confusion were thrown his way, but Edelgard answered without hesitation, “If it gives us a fighting chance, then do it!”

Nodding, Dedue turned to Raphael, “We’ll go first and attract his attention, then you two make your move.”

Rapahel nodded once and Dedue faced Charon, practically bellowing his next word.

“DIABLOS!”

Far from the students, Jeralt was fending off the hordes himself alongside some of the knights, when a sight he’d seen only once before attracted his attention.

Clouds of what looked like bats swirled above them, merging together to form a black sphere that morphed into a monstrous form.

Diablos appeared in all his glory, his mighty wings beating the air and his long tail lashing as he gazed upon Charon. The enemy Eidolon looked surprised.

“Diablos, I was not expecting you to show up!”

Dedue’s Eidolon opened his arms, speaking one word in a thunderous voice.

“Stopja!”

Something pulsed across the battlefield, and instantly, all the undead froze in place, unable to move against them. While Dedue had said a summoner couldn’t freeze an entire army in time, Diablos himself clearly had no such restrictions.

Charon glanced around him, “Well, well, your famous space-time magic. I must admit its impressive.”

“End this Charon!” Diablos demanded, “Or have it ended for you!”

The other Eidolon seemed unconcerned, “As remarkable as your powers are, you know as well as I that you cannot stop a Grand Aeon such as myself. I am on the different level from you.”

Diablos smirked, “But even you have weaknesses.”

With regards to the students, most were gaping in complete and utter shock at Dedue. The boy himself, however, was focused on his magic draining out of him as he sustained Diablos’ presence. He looked to Raphael.

“Now!”

The boy slammed his fists together, the crests he now bore all visibly flashing behind him as he did so.

“ALEXANDER!”

Now, a bright light appeared, and Jeralt watched as it formed the mighty bulk of Alexander. Behind him, knights gasped and cried out in awe at the near literal, living fortress.

For his part, Charon seemed flustered, “Alexander, so it was you!” He then laughed, “Come now, while I will admit that your holy magic can be problematic for me, you lack the power to truly stop me.” He then faltered and frowned, “Wait, how do you have more power, where is this boost coming from?”

A pair of wings burst from Alexander’s shoulders, and even Jeralt could feel the surge of magic building around the Eidolon as he answered his foe, “Prepare yourself Charon, this evil will be purged now.”

Charon pointed his dark version of Thunderbrand at him, “Well, this is slightly inconvenient, but your big attack seems to be rather slow to charge, I can cleave you in two before you can even finish prepping yourself.”

Diablos pointed one of his claws at him, speaking commandingly, “Stop!” Charon froze, as immovable as his undead army, and Diablos grinned, “While my magic cannot harm you, not even you have the power to refuse time.”

Magic was still building, and Alexander gave an order to the watching humans, “People, I suggest you get down and brace yourselves. The aftershocks are going to be bumpy!”

Jeralt instantly turned to the awestruck knights around him as Alexander’s shoulder plates opened.

“EVERYONE, HIT THE DECK!”

The Eidolon fired, his voice ringing out like a bell.

“Holy Judgment!”

Clinging to the earth, everyone watched in amazement at the power that was displayed.

Strands of light burst from Alexander’s shoulder, soaring into the air and spiralling down upon Charon. At the last moment, Diablos dispersed into a cloud of bats and vanished, his spells coming to an end, but it was already too late for his foe.

Charon had time for one scream of rage before the light struck, raining down like hailstones upon him. Explosions of white light shook the earth, the people hanging on for dear life as the ground bucked and shook violently at the impact. Such was the attack’s force that the rumbles were felt even as far as Fhirdiad, and Rhea gazed at the horizon from Garreg Mach, sensing the vast magic being expelled beyond her sight.

A shockwave of light spread from the focus of the impact, healing the wounds of the knights and the students, and obliterating Charon’s undead army. For what seemed like an age, the ground shook and trembled as the light burned, but slowly, the earth settled, and the light faded, leaving behind silence.

At the centre of a vast crater, caused by Alexander’s attack, Charon slowly fell to his knees, gazing, as if still frozen up at the sky. Before him, Alexander was stood where he’d appeared, he seemed to regard his foe for a moment before speaking.

“Begone Charon.”

As if in response, the defeated Eidolon began slowly turning to ash, but his mouth slowly moved, leaving behind some halting, parting words.

“Do not think…this is all…I know…what is coming…”

Charon faded away, the last of his ashes spiralling into nothingness. Alexander lingered for a moment longer, then slowly disappeared in a gently flurry of feathers.

The battle was done.

Chapter Text

Horsebow Moon, Imperial Year 1180

Dedue stared up at the sky, maintaining Diablos’ presence for so long having drained him completely. Raphael was right beside him, and he managed to turn his head to look at the younger boy and grin.

“We did it.”

The other Scion gave a tired laugh and answered, “Yeah, though I don’t think I’m up for anymore world-shattering events for a while.”

“Dedue.” Diablos spoke quietly, “Remember who just saw what you did.”

With that, the boy’s relief evaporated, as he realised just what position he and Raphael were in now.

The students had seen everything.

He and his brother were exhausted, if the students acted upon the church’s declaration that Scions should die, then there was nothing they could do to stop them. Their magic was drained, and their physical strength was spent, they probably couldn’t defend themselves from a kitten right now.

With great effort, he managed to sit up and look at his classmates.

Shocked was a bit of an understatement for how they looked, though they didn’t yet seem to be thinking about how to kill them, so that was good. Claude stepped forward a bit and winked.

“Well, I guess we can count ourselves lucky for what just happened. Maybe the Goddess smiled upon us and sent a miracle.”

Dedue frowned in confusion, was Claude trying to cover for them?

Behind the house leader, Marianne nodded and clasped her hands, “Yes, it must have been.”

Edelgard smiled, “While I can’t say I think the Goddess is responsible, we certainly owe our lives to whoever is.”

“It was awesome!” Caspar blurted out, “I mean, did you see the big fortress one? It completely destroyed Charon!”

“I was more impressed with the one that halted the entire army.” Lindhart responded from where he was sat wearily on the ground, “To freeze them like that must have taken incredible amounts of power.”

The students, flopping down with relief and exhaustion chattered amongst themselves, as if Raphael and Dedue hadn’t done something completely heretical and illegal right in front of them. The two boys looked at each other in bewilderment. What was going on?

Claude had made his way over and sat with them. He gave them another wink and a grin, before casually pulling up his left sleeve out of sight of the other students to reveal a mark of two ravens, one white, one black, circling each other.

A mark of an Aeon.

They gaped at their house leader, and Dedue muttered quietly, “Seriously, you’re one of us as well!”

The Reigan heir grinned and nodded, “Yeah, another summoner hiding in plain sight.”

“What did you do?” Raphael hissed, knowing that Claude had somehow made their classmates not realise what they did.

The other Scion grinned, “Huginn and Muninn specialise in magic to do with thought and memory. I slightly altered their memories of what happened to edit out what you did.”

Dedue blinked, there was such a thing as magic that could alter memories?

Claude glanced back at the other students briefly before speaking again, “Look, I’m going to come clean right now. I can’t completely erase memories or control minds and such, the human mind is too strong for that. What I did was subtly alter how they remember what happened, but the real memory is still there. If we give them cause to doubt what they remember, the real one will resurface.”

Dedue nodded in understanding, “Basically, we need to pretend to be as clueless about what happened as they are.”

Claude nodded, “Exactly.” He winked, “Now, I need to go and say the right words to make my version of what happened stick. You two need to rest up after sustaining your Eidolons for that long.”

Leaving the bewildered summoners behind, Claude began mingling with the students, to check on his house as much as to make sure his alterations to their memories didn’t come undone.

Altering human memories was a tricky and difficult art, the human mind was very strong after all, and it took more than magic power and words to alter the memory out with trauma. The true memory would always be there, lingering beneath the artificial one, and could supersede what he’d planted if he didn’t make his alterations stick.

So, he roamed through the exhausted students, checking on his classmates and acting the part of someone who had no clue where the Eidolons came from, reinforcing his alterations by doing so. If someone seemingly remembered things the way you did, then you were more likely to accept that version of events.

To be honest, he wasn’t sure if it would’ve even worked on this many at once, he’d only used the spell on single targets before, not a group, but he didn’t have time to come up with anything else. Dedue and Raphael being Bearers had surprised him, yes, he’d been sure they’d been keeping some sort of secret, but not the fact they had Djinns.

In Almyra, summoners were called Bearers, and Eidolons were Djinns, and you hid your status as a Bearer there, though for different reasons than in Fόdlan. Bearers were highly sought after as potential instruments of war or assassination and were considered nothing more than tools for the rest. They would basically be enslaved for their abilities and the number of people able to summon Djinn had dwindled to nearly nothing due to the treatment they received from their owners killing them off.

Claude being a Bearer had been a massive shock for his family, the Royal Family of Almyra’s dirty little secret.

In short, Claude’s Almyran grandfather had had a serious fling with a Bearer in his possession, the resulting child showed no signs of sharing that power, so they’d been treated as a legitimate member of the family, their true parentage only revealed by the birth of their son, Claude.

Since then, he’d not only had to wrestle with his dual heritage, but hide the fact that he had a Djinn, something that was made easier by the magic he wielded.

“So, two Bearers alongside you at the Academy, I feel this is way too coincidental to not be some sort of divine providence or destiny.”

Huginn mused lightly in his head, and Muninn responded, “Maybe, but we’re lucky that we managed to cast the spell as quickly as we did, it might not have stuck otherwise.”

When it came to altering memories, the sooner you did it after the event you wanted to alter, the better. You couldn’t let the mind settle on it, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to change it, the spell was likely only as successful as it was because he cast it immediately, before his classmates really registered what was happening.

Claude held in a sigh, and glanced back at the other two Bearers, now talking together seriously.

Two more people like him, both at the Academy, and in his house even! Huginn had a point about this being far too coincidental, perhaps the gods decided to show him a little favour this time, or maybe there was something he was missing.

The aftermath of the battle was long and exhausting.

Their forces had been scattered all over by Charon’s first attack, and it took some time for all of them to actually meet up again. Once they did though, it revealed just how hard they’d been hit, the battle may have been short, but it had also been brutal, it was a miracle that the students had fared as well as they did, with no losses or serious injuries.

Jeralt had made them march a bit of a distance away from the battleground, they had no idea how stable the ground was now, so the further away they were, the better. However, he gave the order to make camp as soon as he deemed it safe enough, knowing how weary, both physically and emotionally they all were.

Despite this, theories and discussions upon Charon, Alexander and Diablos ran throughout the camp. Some claimed that Alexander and Diablos were Eidolons while others claimed them to be messengers of the Goddess, but the hottest topic was Charon.

All of them had noticed his connection to the Ten Elites and heard his claims about who he was. The pious claimed them as nothing but lies, declared by an enemy of the church to entrap and confuse the faithful, but others seemed less convinced, it was hard to not believe more in the being they’d actually seen and fought, rather than the words that had been preached at them.

Sat by the student’s fire, Dedue listened to the conversations around them and thought. He now sort of understood the Church’s fear of Scions. Their silent, invisible Goddess would look less believable beside an actual Aeon that could appear before you, no wonder they wanted people to distrust them.

It whittled their power too much.

“Dedue, Raphael, are you two alright!?”

Jeralt’s concerned voice interrupted his musings, and he looked up along with his brother at their father’s worried face.

Raphael answered, “Yeah, we fared pretty well, no serious injuries to speak of.”

The man smiled in relief, then frowned again, “I need to speak with you two in private.”

Nodding in understanding, Dedue and Raphael stood and followed him away from the rest, none of the students batted an eyelid, not thinking much of Jeralt wanting some private time with his two boys after what had happened, though Claude watched them leave knowingly.

The moment they were out of earshot of the rest, Jeralt turned and hugged them, somehow getting his arms around both of them.

“I’m glad you both made it.” He then looked at them fearfully, “Did anyone see you use your powers?”

They glanced at each other, they knew this conversation was coming, but it wouldn’t make it any easier for their father, and Dedue answered, “Actually, all the students saw, but they don’t remember doing so.”

Jeralt’s face rapidly went from fear to full panic, to complete confusion as Dedue spoke, “What do you mean?”

Raphael took up the tale, “Claude is a Scion as well, he used his magic to make them forget we summoned Alexander and Diablos, but he warned us that the memory is still there. If we’re not careful and don’t stick to the story they believe, they could remember what actually happened.”

Jeralt ran a hand down his face, brow creased with concern, “So Claude knows, but the others don’t, as long as we don’t give them reason to be suspicious of what happened.”

Dedue nodded, “Yes, and I doubt Claude is going to reveal us to anyone.”

The knight sighed, “Agreed, even if it is only out of self-preservation. An Eidolon being behind what happened is bad enough, but if the Church knew that summoners were in the Academy…”

He didn’t finish, but both of them knew what he was thinking. Scions were so rare, that despite the intense stigma around them, they hadn’t suffered because no one knew what they were, and the Church wasn’t actively looking for them. However, the appearance of multiple Eidolons in one place could cause them to actively seek Scions out.

Dedue blanched as he thought of something else.

“Pa, my book. They know I have it and Diablos is in there; the church will want that book!”

The man also paled, “You’re right.” He stared at him intently, “Is there anything written there that ties you directly to Diablos?”

Dedue shook his head, “No, my family never put the names of the Scion in, only the Aeon and what they could do.”

He was thankful for that bit of caution, due to the suspicion of Scions, his family never named actual Scions, just in case undesirables got their hands on it.

“Also, I never got around to adding Alexander, so there’s nothing about him in there at all.”

Another small mercy, there was nothing tying Raphael to being a Scion.

Jeralt stood thoughtfully, considering their options, before speaking once more, “In that case, can I ask that you give the book to me? If I give it to Rhea, it’ll help disconnect you from Scions apart from your family’s scholarly interest. If there’s no name in there, then they won’t think to look for a connection between you and Diablos, not with the students believing that you two weren’t responsible.”

It made sense, the book magically disappearing would be suspicious, but him relinquishing it willingly automatically gave the appearance he had nothing to hide. That and Claude altering the student’s memories meant that he had an alibi, as far as they were concerned, the Eidolons just appeared, and could’ve easily been summoned by someone else.

“We’ll do that.” Dedue agreed, “Though I’m worried about the fact Diablos’ symbol is in there.”

That was the main problem, the marks of their Aeons weren’t exactly cunningly hidden, wearing clothes and privacy meant they’d stayed undiscovered, but the moment he or Raphael didn’t have their shirts, their marks would be seen.

“I think I can help with that.”

Claude’s voice cut in, and the house leader joined them casually, not at all phased by them jumping at his sudden appearance and Jeralt’s suspicious glare.

“What do you mean?”

The knight’s voice was threatening as he spoke, and Claude wasted no time explaining, “My magic does more than alter memory, I can, to an extent, trick the mind as well. Make it ignore things it shouldn’t.”

He tapped his arm, where his mark was, “It’s how I hide my mark. I don’t make it invisible, but I can make it…un-notable.”

“What do you mean?”

Claude gestured to his mark, “I can make it so if people see my mark, they don’t care, they don’t think about it. As long as I don’t draw attention to its existence, they won’t look twice at it. So, not invisible, but of no importance either.”

Raphael groaned, scratching his head, “I don’t follow.”

Claude thought for a moment then explained differently, “So, you know how noble houses have servants everywhere?”

He received nods.

“Well, it’s like them. The servants are working around the house, but most nobles don’t notice them unless they do something to attract attention to themselves. They’re basically invisible, the nobles know they are there, but they don’t bother with them unless something makes them. In short, I can enchant your marks so that people will ignore them unless you make them focus on them.”

Jeralt gave a rare smile, “I see, hide it in plain sight, like a vase on a shelf everyone knows exists but doesn’t think about.”

Claude grinned, “Exactly.”

Raphael was frowning, “I’m not sure I fully get it, but basically, you can make it, so people don’t care, even if they see our marks?”

The house leader turned his grin to him, “That’s a pretty good description actually.”

Dedue smiled, “Then we’ll do that.” He looked to Jeralt, “Right Pa?”

The man nodded, “Yes, it’s a good plan, and our best option.”

Claude winked, “Right then, let me work my magic.” He then looked serious a moment, “Bear in mind, it isn’t fool proof, so I’d suggest covering the mark when you can. Just don’t draw attention to it, like refusing to take your shirt off for healing or something. Suspicious minds are more likely to notice what they shouldn’t.” He looked to Raphael, “You first Raph?”

The other Scion removed his shirt and turned, revealing the mark on his shoulder, and Claude held his hand over it and spoke quietly.

“Perception Skew Pemanaga.”

There was a glow around the mark, that faded leaving no trace it had been there, and nothing seemed unusual, until Dedue felt his eyes drifting away from the mark, as if he didn’t want to look at, it quickly leaving his mind. He forced his eyes back, only to have them drift away again and he heard Claude chuckling.

“Effective, right?”

Dedue looked to him and shook his head, “It’s strange, it’s like I know it’s there and I can see it, but I have no interest in it.”

The boy grinned, “I’ve found that hiding in plain sight is often the best way to hide.”

Chapter Text

Horsebow Moon, Imperial Year 1180

“So, I assure you faithful of the Church. The Eidolon that claimed to be Charon merely lied, it sought to shake our faith in the Goddess, but her divine providence destroyed the web of lies it tried to create. Truly, we are blessed to know her protection, and she will continue to bless us and…”

Claude restrained himself from rolling his eyes.

While he’d expected it, he did feel disappointed at the church’s official declaration of what happened. They were claiming that Diablos and Alexander were sent by the Goddess to destroy the evil Eidolon, the ‘fake’ Charon, but then again, they had been lying too long to stop now.

He’d always been suspicious of the church and what it taught, maybe not the majority of the teachings themselves, but the way they were used for justification. It seemed that the Archbishop’s authority on what the Goddess willed was absolute, even if it technically contradicted her teachings, and that was far too much power.

“They really will do anything to keep their lies going, won’t they?” Huginn muttered in disgust.

“But why?” Muninn questioned, “What are they trying to hide that requires such lengths? What secret possibly needs to be kept that badly?”

Claude had pondered that many times himself, what secret did the church fear that much?

“Honestly, this speech is such a farce!”

Sothis’ voice rang through Byleth’s head, and the professor barely reacted (now used to the potential Goddess commenting on what was going on) merely silently agreeing with her.

While her father had encouraged her to be suspicious of Rhea, this blatant lie sealed it for her. The Archbishop could not be trusted, she and her church had something to hide, something to do with summoners.

“I certainly think so as well.” Sothis remarked, “While we know I’m no Eidolon, there is something familiar about them to me. I must have encountered them before at some point, but when, and for what reason? What happened to make the church lie about them like this, what is the truth behind the Elites, their Crests, and their Relics? How does it all tie together?”

She growled in frustration.

“Urgh, I hate having so many questions and no answers! Especially since I feel like I should know them already!”

“We’ll find them.” Byleth assured her, “We’ll find out what the church is hiding.”

Students sat silently around the Golden Deer classroom after Rhea’s speech, no one yet broaching the topic that was on their minds.

Since their eventual return to the monastery after facing Charon, the classroom had become something of an unofficial meeting place for the top classes of the three houses. More often than not now they congregated there, and it seemed to be considered a ‘safe’ place to discuss what they’d seen.

Unusually, it was Dimitri who started things.

“I think we can speak openly; do we truly believe all the church said today?”

Edelgard responded, “No, I prefer to trust my own judgement of what we saw.”

“It makes no sense for Charon to lie to us.” Lindhart added, “He believed he was going to wipe us out, why waste time and effort lying to us when we were going to die anyway.”

“But why is one of the Ten Elites an evil Eidolon?” Annette asked, “How does that even work?”

“It certainly makes what they’ve taught before deserving of more scrutiny.” Dimitri looked between Claude and Edelgard, “You’ve said before that the church’s teachings about summoners are potentially flawed, what do you think about them?”

Everyone listened in closely, as Claude gave a careful answer.

“I think that summoning magic isn’t that different from other kinds of power. It can be good or evil but inherently neither, just another form of power.” He gestured briefly around them, “Look, Faith magic is tied to the Goddess who is supposed to be good, yet there are Faith users willingly running with bandit groups and helping kill innocents. Faith magic isn’t inherently ‘good’ so summoning magic isn’t inherently ‘evil’ either.”

“I agree with Claude.”

Marianne’s soft voice echoed from the back of the gathering, and all eyes fell on her, causing her to look down at the floor awkwardly. Hilda gently nudged her.

“What do you mean Marianne?”

At her friend’s encouragement, the girl looked up again and spoke a little more confidently.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I thought that, if summoning was so evil, why doesn’t the Goddess just get rid of it? Why leave it in the world if its evil?” Her voice became a little bolder, “So I agree with Claude, summoning is just another form of magic, and how evil it is depends on how it’s used.”

This small speech seized everyone’s attention, most were aware of Marianne’s almost obsessive praying, so to see her admit her doubts about church teaching was quite something.

She looked down again, “I believe in the Goddess’ teachings, but I think the church might preach some that are not from her.”

Edelgard nodded, “I also agree, summoning is merely another form of power that can be used well or badly, depending on who does so.”

Dimitri smiled, “To be honest, its good to have others confirm as such, since I too have been thinking the same.” He sighed, “Faerghus has always tried to be devout, but there are a lot of things I have been questioning, especially over the last few months.”

At his words, there was a flash of something in Edelgard’s eyes, likely missed by many, but Dedue was one who noticed.

Dimitri carried on speaking, “The church preaches on the Goddess’ compassion, yet Lord Lonato was struck down without trial, along with the Militia that followed him. That does not sit well with me, and the two that defeated Charon, I’m certain they were Eidolons, which means someone summoned them. If they were truly evil, why defend us and attack another who uses their power, what happened doesn’t add up to what the Church claims.”

Edelgard focused on Dedue, “Your family wrote that book about Eidolons, do you still have it? Perhaps we can use it to learn more than the Church teaches.”

He shook his head sadly in response, “I’m afraid not, after what happened, the Church requested I hand it to them.”

She sighed, “That is unfortunate, but I doubt you had the option to refuse.”

Dedue agreed with that, he was certain Rhea wouldn’t have taken no for an answer, in fact he felt that she hadn’t been refused in a very long time. Guess that happens when you lead the one organisation that span three separate countries.

“Well, why don’t you share what you remember?”

He looked at Claude, who’d made the suggestion, weren’t they supposed to be careful not to unintentionally draw attention to the altered memories? The other Scion gave him a small smile, and Dedue remembered what he’d said.

Hiding in plain sight is often the best way to hide.

Wyvern Moon, Imperial Year 1180

The Battle of the Eagle and Lion was drawing near, commencing at the end of the month.

Despite (or perhaps because of) what happened the month before, the Church had decided to continue the age-old tradition of the Academy’s biggest mock battle. This lent an atmosphere of excitement to the month, an air of competition buzzing around the student body, even though the three main classes were mingling far more often than in previous years.

The Golden Deer classroom had remained something of a hub, and a ‘safe’ location to discuss certain topics. As he listened, Raphael started to realise that they hadn’t never thought about what they’d been taught before, they just never felt secure enough to discuss their thoughts before. It was obvious that even amongst nobles, Crests weren’t as wonderful as the Church preached. A Crest carrying responsibilities and baggage that was really unnecessary. As someone who’d gained his Crests only recently, Raphael knew the differences they caused well.

He was still getting requests from various nobles and others for marriage proposals, recruitment as a knight, adoption…and it was getting tiring. That was on top of Rhea’s now greatened interest in him personally, with the Archbishop often requesting him to speak with her, mostly asking how he was doing bearing all the Crests, as well as telling him a lot about the Knights of Seiros, unsubtly hinting at how well he would do there if he joined.

Frankly, he had no interest in joining the Church, the fact Rhea would likely kill him without batting an eye if she knew of his abilities made joining her knights unappealing. Never mind the fact he didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her, though it wasn’t just her trying to get him on side.

Edelgard was also pushing for his services. She’d mentioned more than once about how switching classes was possible, that the Imperial Army was always looking for skilled fighters, as well as her own offers of taking him on as one of her knights after the Academy. However, some of the other nobles had noticed this and were also giving similar requests in response.

Dimitri had often mentioned what a boon he’d be to the Kingdom knights, and Lorenz would frequently mention how it would be an honour to serve House Gloucester. Claude wasn’t making many bold offers, but Raphael was sure the other Scion wanted him on side as well.

To give them their due, unlike the other nobles and Rhea, the students were just as keen to recruit Dedue as well, and not just because they realised Raphael likely wasn’t going anywhere without his surrogate brother. It seemed they were as impressed by Dedue’s abilities as they were Raphael’s, so at least they were wanting him for his actual skills, not just the Crests.

Then a slightly more worrying proposal arrived for him.

It was a letter like many others, and he’d already dismissed it until he read its opening line.

Dear Master Kirsten

That got his attention, since he’d not used his real last name for years, no one knew what it was. These days, he was either ‘Master Raphael’ or ‘Master Eisner’, how could someone know his actual surname?

I hope this letter finds you well, and that you’ll give serious consideration to its contents.

While I understand that you have not been in contact with your family for some time, I am certain you still have some sort of concern for their well-being, particularly your sister.

His blood ran cold as he thought of his little sister.

Maya had been pretty young when his father had handed him over to the mages all those years ago, and he’d adored his younger sibling. However, due to what had happened, he’d never seen or contacted her since, he doubted his father would’ve taken him back, and he wondered if she’d even known if he was alive or not.

He didn’t like the way this letter was going.

With this in mind, I wish to make a certain proposal to you about your future after the Academy.

Naturally, I am sure you are aware of your unique gift of Crests, amongst other talents, presents a great many opportunities for you. Once you have graduated, I would be honoured if you would use these gifts in service of my House. As a proud noble house that is growing in prestige within the Alliance, I am sure you can see the benefits of joining it.

Of course, I mean to offer you more than a meagre knighthood, instead I would make you my heir and successor, since such rare gifts deserve only the best. With no blood heir of my own, this would both secure my house and your future as a potentially powerful noble in the Alliance, perhaps even a member of the Roundtable itself.

That being said, I would have certain expectations of you and how you would run my illustrious estate and wavering in those expectations may lead me to having to take action to rectify such errors.

If you choose to refuse my most generous proposal, then I will simply look for other methods of securing my House. I can assure you that your sister has certainly blossomed since you last saw her.

Please come and see me at my estate with your reply within the week, and I am certain that you will not involve the Church in this affair. Your Grandfather is a guest of mine and not in very good health after all, any additional stress the Church could cause may be problematic for him.

Sincerely

Lord Acheron

Raphael cursed.

Chapter Text

Raphael moved as quietly as he could through the monastery, heading towards the gates to the town.

Despite the letter’s instructions, he had told Dedue about it (causing the older boy to near panic), and they’d decided to follow it through. However, neither of them considered it to be anything less than a trap of some sort, and while Raphael went to the meeting alone, Dedue would keep watch from the shadows, ready to assist when needed. No doubt Jeralt and Byleth would likely kill them for this, but the chance that Acheron had Maya wasn’t to be ignored, they’d just own up to it later.

In honesty, Raphael wasn’t sure what to do, he hadn’t seen his sister in years. After his father handed him off because of his Eidolon, he’d never once tried to return home, nor even make contact. He’d heard nothing of his family over the years, and even his new crests hadn’t caused them to reach out to him, they weren’t stupid, they’d have to have worked out who he was when the news spread from Garreg Mach.

Maybe Acheron was to blame for that.

Regardless, he honestly wasn’t sure how he felt about Maya these days, he probably wouldn’t even recognise her since so much time had passed, and it wasn’t like she knew much about her brother.

He passed through the gates and into the town, eyes searching for Acheron’s associates. At this hour, not many people were about, but none of them looked like the kind of people he was looking for…

Then a pair of men caught his eye.

Hooded and cloaked, they loitered at the entrance of an alleyway, seemingly staring at him. One nodded, and the pair retreated further into the alley’s shadows, beckoning him to follow.

“Be on your guard little one.” Alexander warned, “Remember that we do not know what to truly expect.”

Taking his words on board, Raphael cautiously made his way towards the alley, putting on his gauntlets as he did so, Acheron said nothing about him being armed, so he wasn’t taking chances. Certainly, Dedue would be close behind ready to give him aid, but it was only wise to be ready.

He frowned as he walked further into the shadows of the buildings, the two men had seemingly vanished into nothingness, and something felt wrong…

“Little one, some sort of spell is activating!”

Alexander barely managed to give his warning before light blinded Raphael and he was suddenly elsewhere.

Claude groaned and cracked his neck, stiff and tired from pouring over book after book in search of some decent answers.

Frankly, he was investigating far too much, not just crests and the truth behind the church’s teachings, but Byleth and why Rhea was so interested in them, Raphael being kidnapped and given every crest, this group pulling the strings behind others, Charon, and why a Djinn was the same as one of the Elites. He had lots of puzzle pieces, but it was like having fragments of a picture, but with no idea how big or complex it was meant to be.

Never mind the back-stabbing politics he had to learn and keep watch over as heir to the Sovereign Duke, and it was politics that were now demanding his attention.

“Are you sure Muninn?”

“Certainly, something is happening in the Empire. There are odd troop movements and a building up of forces. Nothing huge or dramatic, but definitely there. The strange thing is that its not including all the nobles. Aegir is carrying on as normal, but Bergliz seems to be gearing up for something.”

Claude rubbed his forehead tiredly, “So, parts of the Empire are preparing for war, but with who?”

“Unknown, but even preparing for war is a bit of a stretch at the moment, though they’re certainly prepping for something.”

Claude frowned at this information.

While Huginn and Muginn granted him magic that somewhat manipulated thoughts and memory, that wasn’t their true strength. That lay in their ability to get information, and their skill of the sub-summon.

For most Djinn, fully summoning them into existence took up a lot of magic power, continually eating it away at an alarming rate. Huginn and Muninn however, were a twin Djinn, two Djinn in one. If Claude summoned one, but not the other, it greatly decreased the magic power required, and that was the sub-summon.

With only one of the ravens summoned, Claude could sustain their presence for long periods of time but doing so weakened the effects of his own spells, and the summoned raven would also have far less power without their twin.

Regardless, they would have enough to co-ordinate their spies, the ravens, crows, rooks, and other such birds of the world.

Huginn and Muninn could command real carrion birds, using them to spy on the world, these birds were Claude’s true eyes and ears, and the source of much of his information.

The birds themselves couldn’t be fully controlled, his Djinn’s magic could not override survival instincts (so he wouldn’t be calling on the aid of a ferocious crow army anytime soon), but they had no issues hanging around different areas and watching for awhile if they weren’t in any danger. Since nobody really paid any attention to random crows and such hanging around, they could pick up a lot of information unnoticed.

Claude sighed, “Let’s just keep an eye on it for now, it could just be the Empire back-stabbing itself again.”

“Perhaps.” Huginn answered, “Though problems in the Empire could become problems for you.”

“Then I’ll add them to the pile.” Claude muttered wearily.

He knew his dream of removing prejudice was never going to be easy, but he had to admit that he hadn’t fully realised just how many huge hurdles he was going to have to clear. Fόdlan’s suspicion of other nations was deep-rooted, not that he could really blame them, pretty much all the surrounding nations (his own birth nation included) had tried to invade at some point, often several times. As such, it was no surprise Fόdlan was slow to trust anyone beyond their borders.

However, there was understandable suspicion, and straight-out ignorance and superiority complexes, unfortunately, many people (particularly nobles and such) believed that being from Fόdlan inherently made them better. Claude though, knew that the only reason Almyra wasn’t more of a threat was because they weren’t really trying to invade, they were simply fuelling their warrior culture, for better or worse. The Alliance wouldn’t stand a chance if Almyra truly wanted to conquer them, especially not with the Roundtable nobles being more interested in back-stabbing and one-upping each other than actually, you know, running the country.

He sighed again.

Honestly, the system itself wasn’t bad, a council discussing and agreeing on things was a good method of governance on paper, but it had its clear flaws and no real method of fixing things if the council refused to agree on anything due to personal selfishness. Like many systems in Fόdlan, it had stagnated and lasted long enough with no real alterations that its problems were far more visible than its benefits.

He looked back down at the book in front of him, one detailing the history of the church, then growled in frustration.

It was just another rehash of the same story the church preached, and utterly useless to him. He knew the church wasn’t telling the whole story, something was missing (or just wrong) which meant there was something to hide.

Sadly, they’d done a very good job of removing whatever it was from their records, the only suspicious thing was how the records had obviously been altered. Real accounts would have differences, depending on the author’s bias and experience, but all the accounts the church had were far too similar to each other (and far too positive towards the church), making them suspicious.

Claude closed the book and shoved it aside, moving onto the next one.

Moving from one place to another instantaneously, was a strange experience.

Dedue was aware that a couple of the students had shown the potential to use the complex Warp spell, but he’d never been on the receiving end of one before. Not only was the sudden swap from dark alleyway to misty lake disorienting, but the magic itself felt incredibly bizarre.

He shook his head to regain his bearings, readying his axe for battle, only to find no one else around except Raphael.

He’d been close behind the younger boy, ready to step in if needed, and had rushed forward the moment Diablos had sensed the strange magic. Naturally, he’d been caught up in the spell as well, leading them to where they were now.

They were stood before some sort of stone alter, built onto a lake that was covered in an ethereal mist. Scanning the area for any signs of trouble, he saw the stone paths built upon the water’s surface, stretching to the dim, shrouded shore.

“Where are we?”

Raphael asked cautiously, backing closer to Dedue, his own eyes scanning around for danger, “Is this Acheron’s trap?”

“This is no trap.”

A deep, rumbling voice, echoed from the mist in response. Both boys looked around swiftly, unsure as to its direction, the words seemingly reverberating around them. Upon the alter, a massive shape began to materialise as the mists parted, revealing scales and shell, the hide of a dragon that seemed to be combined with a tortoise. A ferocious face looked imperiously down upon them, briefly displaying its fangs in what looked like a smile, before speaking once more in a voice without the previous enhancements.

“I am Indech, one of the ‘Four Saints’.”

Taken completely off-guard by the creature’s appearance Dedue gaped, whereas Raphael pointed out the obvious.

“You’re a dragon!”

For his part, Indech merely gave a laugh.

“Indeed, I am a dragon, little human, or rather, little Scion.”

Dedue had recovered enough to respond and realise what the dragon had just said.

“You know of our abilities?”

“Indeed,” Indech replied, “It is one of the reasons I called you here, but first.” He focused on Raphael, “I must ask for your forgiveness young one, the letter you thought you received from Acheron was actually from me. The real Acheron has no knowledge of your sister’s connection to you, nor is she in any danger. I needed your attention and willingness to come someplace I could warp you here, so I created a lie to attract you and your brother.”

The relief was obvious on Raphael’s face at this news, but he was soon questioning the dragon.

“That’s good to hear, though how did you know about her, and me, and why create a fake message like that anyway if you wanted to see us?”

The dragon explained.

“I have watched over many Scions such as yourself over my long lifespan, I do not agree nor condone the church’s teachings about those such as yourselves. That is one of the reasons I do not interact with it much. Instead, I do what I can to protect them. The Archbishop believes that the world is safer without Scions, however, I am certain that your powers are necessary, especially in the coming days. In short, I have watched over both of you for much of your lives.”

He sighed, “I suppose that ‘watched’ is the key word here. I might seem impressive, but my power is not what it once was, so in truth, my ‘protection’ is minor at best.” He smiled, “Still, I did what I could, when I could.”

He frowned, “In regard to my deception, while I could’ve warped you here from within the monastery, the Archbishop would’ve noticed, and this conversation is not one for her to hear. I created the fake letter; certain it would bring you out of the monastery and to a place where I could arrange this meeting without arousing suspicion.” He eyed them both, “Would either of you have come if I sent a message from a supposedly dead saint, requesting a secret meeting?”

Dedue did see his point, they definitely wouldn’t have come if asked like that, though it did bring up another, obvious thing they needed to straighten out.

“You are a dragon, yet you also claim to be Saint Indech? As in, the same Indech that fought alongside Saint Seiros over a thousand years ago?”

“I am.” Indech answered, “A dragon such as myself lives immeasurably longer than humans such as yourselves. All of the saints still exist, Cichol and Cethleann are now more involved in the world after a long absence, Seiros has always been meddling, and Macuil has left this land. He became far more…jaded…after the war with Nemesis, and is disgusted by humankind, he cares little for what happens in the world now.” The Saint looked thoughtful, “Though I admit he cared enough to assist me with this.”

Indech looked down upon them, “Which brings me to the reason I brought you both here.”

The dragon lowered his head, bringing it closer towards them, “What is coming, is powerful, far more powerful than the Aeon Charon, whom you defeated in Duscur. We need Scions to face it, as we did many centuries ago, and I believe it to be no accident that three of you have come together now.” He looked down at meaningfully, “I do not know how, but an ancient Eidolon, known as Eden, is gaining strength. He has yet to break the seal put upon him over a thousand years ago by my mother, but yet his influence is clear. Someone, somewhere, is attempting to break his seal.”

“Eden, what Eidolon is that?”

Dedue frowned, he’d never heard of an Eidolon by that name.

“I’ve never heard of him either.” Diablos confirmed, “Not even a whisper.”

Indech shook his head and sighed, “Truthfully, not even I know much of his true nature.” He frowned, “Even for a Grand Eidolon, Eden is extraordinarily powerful. In fact, he might as well be considered a god, he might not be a creator, but that is the level of power he wields.”

“Dedue.”

Dedue glanced at Raphael, and the younger boy was looking thoughtful.

“Remember what Charon said, when Diablos and Alexander defeated him? He said, ‘I know what is coming’.”

Dedue’s eyes widened in realisation, “You think he was talking about Eden?”

“Maybe.”

Indech nodded, “Indeed, in fact it was Charon’s arrival that alerted Macuil to Eden’s growing influence. Which is when he reached out to me about what was to be done.” The dragon sighed, “He may not care about humanity, but at least he still agrees that Eden is far too big a problem to be ignored.” He focused on the two Scions once more, “As I’ve said, I do not know who is attempting to break Eden’s seal for certain, but it must not be allowed to happen.”

“Okay, hold up a moment.” Raphael held up his hand, “I get that Eden is trouble, but why, and how did you seal him in the first place if he’s that powerful?”

The dragon inclined his head at him, “Of course, I forget that much of that history has not been preserved.”

He frowned for a moment, as if considering where to begin, then spoke once more.

“Eden appeared in this world over a thousand years ago, before Fόdlan, Nemesis, or anything of that sort occurred. To this day, I remain unsure as to what it wanted, or even what it truly was. Eden was some sort of Eidolon, but it was very different from any others. They forced some humans to worship it, destroyed others, made huge swaths of land bountiful then scoured it, there was no real rhyme or reason to its actions. To be honest, I’m not sure Eden itself knew what it wanted. My mother stood against it, tried to end the cataclysms it wrought, and found a way to use the combined power of herself and all her children to seal it. Scions stood alongside her, using their own Eidolons to fight Eden as my mother prepared the seal. Ultimately, they were victorious, and Eden was sealed away, ending the chaos and destruction it brought.”

He shook his head.

“However, no seal is perfect, and it would only be sustained if the powers of my mother and her children, those such as myself, remained. Furthermore, under the right conditions, a Scion would also be able to break it, doing so was very difficult at best, but it was still plausible.”

He gave a sad sigh.

“After Nemesis, Seiros decided that the best way to protect the seal, would be to have no Scions, stop their power from being passed down entirely. This was when the church began declaring Scions, and the act of summoning to be evil, and myself and Macuil strongly disagreed. Unfortunately, Cichol was otherwise occupied, so the two of us could not sway her and we departed from her side. Macuil chose isolation, becoming more jaded at the world as time went by, but I started working to protect and preserve Scions, not just because they did not deserve persecution, but also because I knew that when, not if, Eden returned, we’d need their power to face it.”

He gazed upon them.

“The power that maintains the seal, is what you know as crests, as long as even one crest exists in a living bearer, so too does the seal continue. However, a Scion can still break it even if the crests exist, you must prevent that from happening. I was never told how a Scion could do this, only that it was possible, so find out who is attempting to do so, and stop them.”

Dedue stood dumbfounded, this was the answer they were after, the reason the church condemned them? To prevent one Eidolon from being summoned, keep in place a seal fuelled by the crests? At least Fόdlan’s obsession with them made sense, the church pushed them as gifts from the Goddess to ensure they survived. Have them in noble lines to make certain that the crests would be passed down, continuing their existence. Was that also the reason for the relic weapons? To act as incentives to have a crest.

Indech was still speaking, and he refocused on the dragon.

“Of course, I do have a gift for each of you, something myself and Macuil, begrudgingly, created.”

There was a small surge of magic, and two sets of weapons materialised before them, a pair of bladeless gauntlets, and an axe with a shield. At first glance, it was clear these weren’t normal weapons. While not relics, they had an ethereal glow about them, and made from a material that seemed to be dragon scale. The gauntlets had crests carved upon them, a different one on each hand and the symbol of Alexander on both, while the axe and shield bore the symbol of Diablos.

Raphael picked up the gauntlets in awe, “These are for us?”

Indech smiled, “Yes, they were especially designed for you both.” He gestured at the gauntlets, “Those gauntlets are designed to work with the crests of Indech and Macuil, specifically to further enhance the spells of Alexander, trying to use one without the other will make them effectively useless, since they are little better than gloves unless you are the one wearing them.”

Raphael slipped them on and jumped in shock as blades of light sprung from them when he clenched his fists, disappearing once more when he unclenched them.

Indech motioned at the axe and shield, “Those ones are designed to work with the power of Diablos, instead of the axe strengthening your magic, your magic strengthens it. The shield acts as additional magic storage, allowing you to use your powers more before running out of magic. Just remember that it too takes time to replenish itself as well.”

He glanced between them smiling, “Of course, you two turning up with such obviously special weapons is going to look suspicious, so they all have an additional power. Look at them, focus your magic and say ‘camouflage’.”

Doing just that, they gasped as the weapons seemingly changed appearance to look like normal steel weapons. Indech chuckled at their reactions.

“Clever, isn’t it. As you can see, the built in Camouflage spell makes them appear normal but remember that while it lasts a long time, it’s not permanent. You’ll have to regularly use it, or anyone will see what they truly are.”

He looked serious once more, “With these weapons, I hope you can find a way to prevent Eden’s return. There has been a group working in the shadows for some time, the same one you’ve encountered before, I would consider them the most likely suspects. Though I have as much knowledge as you about what they’re actually doing, I only know what they’ve done in the past, not what they’re planning in the present for the future.”

He nodded, “Now, it is time I returned you to Garreg Mach, and I hope for your success. Sadly, my power as waned greatly, so what help I have given is about all I can do.”

He gave a farewell smile.

“Farewell young Scions, and may you be successful.”

With a surge of magic, and a blinding light, Dedue and Raphael found themselves back in the alleyway they’d been in before.

Chapter Text

Wyvern Moon, Imperial Year 1180

“Seriously, Indech, you met the Saint Indech, one of the four saints and who is also, of all things, a dragon!?”

Raphael grinned, seemingly not bothered by Claude’s shock, awe, and franticness, “Yeah, he wanted to talk to us about what’s been going on, since it seems to be heavily tied to summoners like us.”

If anything, this made Claude more put out, “And what am I, chopped liver!? Why wasn’t I invited to the secret lore dump session!?”

Dedue tried to console the upset house leader, “Maybe he thought that trying to get all three of us was too difficult, and that we’d tell you everything anyway.”

“But, I have so many other questions for him!”

Jeralt sighed at the young Reigan’s antics, still upset and angry that Raphael and Dedue went to a suspicious meeting without consulting him and Byleth, even if it had ended up providing far more information than they’d thought.

When Indech had returned them to Garreg Mach, the two boys had wasted no time in locating Jeralt, Byleth and Claude, passing on what the dragon had told them. Initially, Jeralt had wanted to berate his sons for their idiocy in attending a blatant trap, but Indech’s message to them had forced him to other concerns.

“Claude, you’ll have to hope you can get your questions answered another time. For now, we need to consider what this dragon claims, namely about this…Eden. An Eidolon that is apparently so powerful, the church has spent centuries lying to try and keep it sealed.”

This calmed Claude down, and the boy shook his head, “So all this time, the big deal about crests was because of Eden, and the fear of it.” He sighed, “It’s sad because that fear led to the near annihilation of summoners in Fόdlan.”

Byleth was quiet and thoughtful, “Do you think Eden is the reason Scions are feared even beyond Fόdlan?”

Dedue frowned, “Maybe, if Eden follows the rules of other Aeons, then someone has to summon him. Perhaps an ancient Scion summoned Eden, then others tried to use their own powers to fight back, leading to the war my people spoke of. An all-out war between Scions would be devastating, especially if Eden is as powerful as Indech implied. It would make sense that countries beyond Fόdlan would be affected as well.”

“Provided Indech is telling the truth.” Jeralt added sceptically, “I do find it convenient that he would simply have all this information to hand over.”

“I mean, while I admit to being highly suspicious a lot of the time, I don’t see what he would have to gain from lying about this. “Claude countered, “He’s a dragon that’s been ignored for centuries and is considered dead. What would be the purpose of weaving a story about some super-Eidolon, what would he even gain by handing out powerful weapons and telling outlandish lies? It’s not like Raphael and Dedue are going to overthrow the church and all three nations because of it.”

Jeralt relented a little, “True.” He frowned worriedly, “But he hasn’t given us much that is practical to go off. How would we stop Eden’s seal breaking, we know it requires crests but not how they are used to create it? In addition, the group he thinks are trying to break it are actively transplanting crests into people, surely, they want to be taking crests away if they want to break the seal, since crests are what sustain it.”

“Unless they’re trying to fulfil the requirements to enable a summoner to lift it themselves.” Claude suggested, “They gave Raphael, who they know is a summoner, all the crests. I think Lysithea’s transplants were experiments, tests to see if crest transplants were possible. If crests sustain Eden’s seal, then perhaps a summoner who has all the crests can summon Eden, breaking the seal.”

Raphael scratched his head, “So to stop Eden breaking free, I just don’t summon him. That seems like a pretty bad plan on their part considering all the preparation they did if I could foil it just through refusal.”

“To be honest, their whole plan so far seems to be incredibly complex and flimsy.” Dedue responded.

While they continued debating possibilities, Byleth was quiet outwardly, though in her mind, she and Sothis were in deep discussions, or rather, Sothis was being very vocal with her thoughts.

“None of this makes any sense.” The potential Goddess grumbled, “While we have an answer for the Church’s obsession with crests and the continued condemnation of summoners, we have even more questions about what our enemy is up to, and who they even are.”

Byleth remained silent, as confused as her companion. If the group that kidnapped Raphael wanted to release Eden, then why make more crests? If their aim was to give them to a summoner to break the seal, then why did they make it easy to rescue the one they had. They may have been surprised by Dedue the first time, but if they were spread across the continent as they seemed to be, why did they let Raphael roam free for years, and why not take him from the monastery entirely when they kidnapped him here? It would’ve been far harder for them to rescue him if he was somewhere remote and hidden, it was like they needed him at the monastery.

“Indeed, that might be the answer.”

Sothis had clearly been following her thoughts, and the goddess sounded impressed.

“It would make sense for the seal to be as complex as possible, perhaps its more than just crests holding it in place. It wouldn’t surprise me if they needed their summoner to not only have all the crests but be in a particular place as well to break it. Garreg Mach is the heart of the church, which, going off this new knowledge, seems to exist mostly to conceal and maintain Eden’s seal, it is likely that the building itself acts as a part of that process, hence its construction and placement.”

She gave a thoughtful noise, “Yes, this sort of set-up sounds familiar, perhaps I’ve seen something like it before, or maybe, I created something like it…”

She growled in frustration.

“Gargh! It’s like it’s just on the edge of my mind, I’m sure I know more about this but what am I missing!?”

“Regardless, it is obvious that Raphael is key to their plans. I doubt it’s an accident that Indech gave him and Dedue powerful weapons.” Byleth answered.

Sothis agreed, “That is true, they made sure he had all crests, he must be a part of breaking the seal. Though they’ll need some way of forcing him to do so…” She paused, as if suddenly considering something, “Unless…they have a way of making him without his consent, perhaps they only need him in the right place, not his assistance. Either way, he is probably the most important person in the monastery right now, we must not let him fall back into their hands.”

“The key is ready, milord.”

Arundel, or rather, Thales, the pale imposter of the lord, bowed before a coffin like structure, made from black metal and bearing eerily glowing lights.

“Good.”

A strange voice, that both whispered and echoed, drifted around him, its tone one of pleasure, then sharply changing to command.

“I command more, you will use other projects, repeat the Duscur experiment!”

Thales frowned in wary confusion, “But milord, everything for your release is in place, surely it would be more prudent to wait?”

“Do you question me!?” The voice was harsh, and furious, then became soft and comforting, “Thales, do you doubt my plans, ones which I have chosen to reveal in part to you who remain faithful? Remember that I am Eden, I do not see the world as you do, my plans and thoughts extend beyond your perception, to paradise.”

“My apologies milord, I should not have questioned you. Is there anywhere in particular you wish for it to be done?”

“Wherever you see fit, though have it done next moon. Allow them a moment of respite.”

Obediently, Thales bowed and stood, “As you wish Lord Eden, the Paradise to Come.”

The fake lord strode away into the darkness, the persona of Arundel flowing smoothly onto his features as he went. Once alone, the voice echoed out into the silence, whispering in longing, and desperation.

“Yes, the Paradise to Come, that is our need.”

 The Battle of the Eagle and Lion came around very suddenly.

As occupied as they were with the information given by Indech, the month raced on by, soon reaching one of the biggest events of the school year. Unlike the mock battle of their first month, all students would be taking part under the leadership of their professors, the battle acting as a showcase of their gained skills and tactics.

In the days approaching the battle, good-humoured rivalry developed amongst the three houses.

In all honesty, it was somewhat strange to suddenly be in competition once again. The events of the year had ended up causing the separate classes to work together more often than not, and the harsh battle from the month before had strengthened inter-house bonds. Even in the week just before the battle, the houses were mingled most of the time, and while there had been attempts to ‘learn’ opposing house strategies, it was very much done as a joke or for fun than any real subterfuge.

Even the march to Gronder had been filled with light banter and camaraderie instead of heated rivalry, with the house leaders using a board game of all things to decide the starting locations of each house. While there was definitely a desire to win driven by personal and house pride (not to mention the prize for the winners), the urge to give their all was also powered by the need to display their strength to their friends in other houses.

The battle itself proved to be a grand and challenging affair.

The other two houses had proven formidable opponents, with Dimitri and Edelgard largely taking command of their forces. Whether by some prior agreement or not, the professors seemed to be acting more as seconds rather than commanders, standing back and letting the students take the lead, and Claude smoothly commanded them.

The Black Eagles reached the central hill first, a vital point to control the battlefield, placing Bernadetta on the ballista, they sought to strengthen their control of the hill, letting the nervous girl accurately assault the other two houses from afar. Dimitri, coming from the east, focused his house upon the hill, attempting to take it and Edelgard’s advantage through a pincer movement, from the east and curving from the south. He led the eastern charge, lance stabbing and thrusting, defeating those that came too close, while Edelgard hung back, commanding her troops from her house’s starting position.

Not wanting to get embroiled in the intense battle between the other houses, Claude divided his forces to the east and west, aiming for their opponents’ weaker northern lines. This made the two teams perhaps weaker overall, but they’d spent the month working on becoming a skilled smaller force, rather than a large army, partly because Claude seemed to excel at working in such a way. Raphael and Dedue spearheaded a side each, acting as the main frontline fighters.

Of course, each side wasn’t completely undefended (neither Edelgard nor Dimitri were that foolish) so they had to push their way through. Dedue would admit he had a lot of difficulty trying to best Petra on the western side with her unpredictable, swift combat style, and afterwards, many agreed that the duel between Felix and Raphael in the east would become the stuff of Academy legend. However, the Deer prevailed and came in the back of each opposing house to claim the central hill and defeat much of the opposition.

With Claude on the ballista (both for long-ranged support and to help him keep an eye over the battle) and Dedue and Raphael leading the charge beyond the hill, they soon broke through the Blue Lion’s hastily constructed defence after their retreat, removing them from the battle. After that, they focused upon the Black Eagles who’d used the time the Deer spent on the Lions to reinforce their position. They proved harder to overcome, and Edelgard in particular remained strong and nigh on immovable until the very end. Eventually it was Raphael, his crest of Seiros activating in response to hers, that finally managed to outlast her and strike the ‘killing’ blow.

It was almost anticlimactic when Seteth matter-of-factly announced the Golden Deer as the victors of the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, though the jubilation of the class more than made up for it.

Then Claude proclaimed is intent for the joint ‘feast’.

Though weary from the march back, the students flung themselves fully into the so-called ‘feast’.

Though expected, there actually wasn’t more food than there usually was in the dinning hall, but they treated like a magnificent spread regardless. Though usually a stickler for the rules, Seteth seemed to elect to ignore the rowdy gathering and flagrant breaking of the usual curfew, and it continued long into the night. Friendly jabs, comments and critiques of the mock battle were tossed about as they ate, along with several, obviously exaggerated, stories of events that occurred within it (the retellings of Dedue’s duel with Petra didn’t sound anything like the way they remembered it). Conversation flowed freely among the students as they ate together, laughed together and even engaged in friendly contests (though the Blaiddyd vs Blaiddyd crest arm wrestle between Dimitri and Raphael came dangerously close to breaking one of the large dining tables).

As the night wound down and raucous partying made way for quieter conversation and discussion as some students began drifting off to bed, Dedue sat back in contentment, Raphael and his rat Carbuncle still finishing off what little food remained at the table beside him. He gently petted Fenrir’s head, the wolf having placed it on his lap during the course of the evening and smiled to himself.

For once, it had seemed like there hadn’t been three houses, or even three countries, just a bunch of students having a feast together. Claude had shared a little of his dream with them, his desire to end prejudice and increase cooperation, and it was a lofty, and likely not fully obtainable goal. However, the ‘feast’ Claude had proposed had proven, that even for a short while, the nations could spend time amicably together, leaving hope for the future.

He spotted Edelgard quietly leaving, Hubert following her like a loyal shadow as always, and he realised that she’d been as distant as she always was, even during the height of the festivities. Now though, in the glimpse he’d unintentionally caught as she left, he noticed something he hadn’t before.

She had seemed…sorrowful.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24

Red Wolf Moon, Imperial Year 1180

“Any luck with that one?”

Dedue glanced at Raphael briefly, before closing his book with a sigh.

“No, how about you?”

“Nothing in here so far.” Raphael looked at the book he wasn’t even halfway through yet, “Though I’ve not exactly got very far.”

“You’ll get there.”

“It would help if the letters didn’t move all the time.”

As long as he’d known him, Dedue had been aware of Raphael’s difficulty with reading, the younger boy saying that, to him, it looked like the letters moved around as he tried to read. He hadn’t been too concerned, since he could manage well enough to get by, but it did mean any book study was slow going for him, and they were doing a lot of that.

Byleth had posed a theory that the monastery itself was part of Eden’s seal, so knowing that it was very unlikely they’d find information on Eden, they decided to look into the seal, maybe finding more about how it worked through how the monastery was built. Unfortunately, a lack of original plans made it harder, and anything on the monastery was more about its history rather than its construction.

He hated how used to dead ends he’d become.

“Is everything alright with you two boys?”

Dedue glanced up to see Tomas nearby, a helpful smile on his face, and he held up the book he’d finished.

“Do you have any books focused on the construction of the monastery? I know the original architectural plans have been lost, but was there any that talked more about its design rather than its history?”

The librarian raised an eyebrow, “An interesting topic of study. I assume this is out of personal interest?”

He nodded, “Yes, I was just curious, its an odd place to choose to build the seat of the church, though I guess it was the centre of the Empire at the time. I was also interested as to why its laid out the way it is.”

Tomas smiled, “I suppose that where it is placed is unusual, but it is a monastery and was thus expected to pick a place closest to the heavens, where the Goddess is said to reside. Garreg Mach is in the mountains for this reason, and I believe Saint Seiros likely choose the centre of Fόdlan to represent how the Goddess should be at the centre of the continent’s lives. As to its actual design, I’m afraid there are no real reasons given for it, it seems the thinking behind the way it was built was lost with the architects.”

“I see.”

The librarian gave an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry I can’t be much more use, unfortunately, such information was not deemed important enough to preserve.”

With that, Tomas shuffled off towards his desk, leaving him with no other potential leads, until Raphael suddenly tapped his arm.

“Hey, Dedue. I think I’ve found something!”

He leaned closer, to look at the page alongside the younger boy as Raphael excitedly, but slowly read out what he’d found.

“Garreg Mach monastery was completed on the 25^th of the Ethereal Moon, Imperial Year 185. The event was marked with joyful celebrations in honour of the Goddess, thanking her for her provision throughout construction and to pray for her continued blessings over the people. Its construction had been like none other, for it had included a feat of building work that had involved creating a new ground layer so it could sit above the ruins of Garreg Mach Temple, said to have been the place from which the Goddess created Fόdlan.”

He grinned at him, “I think that’s what we’re looking for, its not the monastery itself, but what it was built on top of, maybe it was placed here to keep the original seal hidden, by hiding the ruins of the building that actually maintained it.”

“Maybe.” Dedue leaned closer to the page, “Does it say anymore?”

Raphael shook his head, “No, its only mentioned here, the rest of it seems to talk about the celebrations and rites performed.”

Reading it quickly himself, Dedue confirmed his brother’s words for himself, this sentence was the only mention of the temple that came before the monastery, and it was likely that there was no other mention of it in other books. This particular one was quite old, so he wouldn’t be surprised if more modern texts omitted it entirely, though now they had a lead.

“So, there should be ruins beneath us, it makes sense since we know there are underground passages hidden down there. Maybe they were all leftovers from the previous temple.”

“Do you think those ruins are the reason why the original plans for the monastery are gone?”

“Most likely, they want the seal kept as quiet as possible, they probably removed evidence of the old passages not long after the monastery was finished, I guess this mention was so small they missed it.”

Raphael frowned, “But how are we going to get to them? I know they sealed off the one they took me and Flayn down, and it’s not like we can go poking around looking for other entrances.”

Dedue was silent for a moment as he considered, then answered, “Let’s just take this to Byleth first, maybe she might have an idea.”

“I knew it, the monastery is indeed part of Eden’s seal!”

Ignoring Sothis crowing in her head Byleth nodded at the two boys in front of her, “Good work you two, this is something we can use.”

Dedue still looked concerned, “Maybe, but I don’t see how we can investigate any further. The ruins should be beneath the monastery, so how do we get down there?”

“There is method we could use.”

Byleth didn’t need Sothis reminding her to work that one out, she’d discovered Abyss and the Ashen Wolves not long after she’d arrived. Her father’s suspicions and warnings about the church had caused her to poke around the monastery when she could, and she had discovered a passage of sorts that went to Abyss near her own room. The church seemed aware of it, and even used it themselves when they needed to, but she’d often made use of it herself to get news that might not travel around those on the surface. While Dedue and Raphael had researched in the monastery library, she’d been doing research of her own in Abyss, which had its own library of books that had been rejected from the monastery one. Sadly, she’d not encountered much, but had found indications that Fόdlan’s history was not what the church claimed it to be, and there were also rumours to be found amongst the people who moved through the secret town below.

The Wolves might be able to assist her.

They’d grown somewhat comfortable with her, maybe because she’d occasionally shared her knowledge and skills with them, and in return, they’d often give her information that could be useful, and she thought she could get their help in studying the ruins of Abyss.

She nodded to the two boys, “Don’t worry, I’ll be able to take it from here.”

Raphael blinked in surprise, “How?”

“I have an idea about how to investigate further. For now, focus on your studies and preparing for this month’s mission.”

“But what about Eden?” The blonde boy protested, “We need to know about his seal as well!”

She levelled him with a look, “I will let you know what I discover, if anything. Your other studies are as important, I want you as well-trained as possible Raphael, and it’ll be hard to allow you both to follow this up. Focus on your studies and leave this with me.”

Dedue picked up on her tone and appealed to his brother, “C’mon Raph, she has a point. We don’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves and what we’re researching, and we are getting a little behind in class.”

Raphael sighed in defeat, “Okay.”

Byleth gave a small smile, “Thank you.”

Discussion over, the two boys left and Sothis hummed in approval.

“A good decision, Abyss isn’t really a place we should take them, particularly considering the circumstances around Raphael.”

Byleth agreed, Yuri’s influence kept Abyss reasonably safe, but it was not a place for academy students to be roaming. In truth it wasn’t a place academy professors should be, but Byleth wasn’t like other professors, and had a reputation as a legendary mercenary with the skills to back that reputation. Dedue and Raphael however should not be sent down to a place that regularly had criminals and other such people within it.

She was not letting Raphael and Dedue go somewhere so potentially dangerous.

The month rolled onwards, though unease hung in the air due to the mysterious illness in Remire Village.

Its symptoms were varied and odd, with Professor Manuela declaring that it was most likely a result of poisons or dark magic. For the moment, the knights were keeping an eye on the situation, but had yet to do anything else since only a few seemed to have succumbed to it so far. It was the mission of the Golden Deer to investigate further alongside Jeralt, once another mission of his was complete, but the church was reluctant to let the class get too close to the village until they knew a little more.

There had been mutterings of it being the work of a summoning, Charon still fresh in the minds of many, but so far, no Eidolon had actually been sighted.

While he no longer had access to his family’s records, Dedue could remember a lot of what had been in them, and he could not recall an Aeon that could achieve an effect like this one. Diablos and Alexander also couldn’t bring one to mind, so it had been assumed that it was something else.

Unlike previous months, the houses had been given separate missions, though it didn’t stop them from collaborating more often than not, since the other missions were patrols and helping deal with bandits, and thus didn’t require vast research. However, there wasn’t much that added up to what was going on, leaving little in the way of useful information.

Then came the day it suddenly changed.

“This is…”

Dedue understood why Claude couldn’t find the words, there was no describing it, other than Remire was literally tearing itself apart.

Buildings were burning everywhere, people were running about in a melee, some screaming in fear or crying out for loved ones, while others laughed maniacally, striking out at anything they could see. It was complete chaos and madness.

They hadn’t expected this, not even when they’d been swiftly ordered to prepare for battle and hurried out of the monastery by Byleth, Alois and a recently returned Jeralt, apparently, they too didn’t fully know what was happening.

“We have to get down there!”

Ever one for action, Leonie was quick to recover and make a move, but Hilda intervened, “And do what! We have no idea what’s going on, those people rampaging could be sick and not at fault.”

“Even if that’s the case, we have to get those who are not affected out of there!” Leonie countered, “If we’re careful, we can take out those rampaging without killing them.”

That would be easier if there was less chaos, Dedue briefly considered Diablos, maybe he could freeze everyone in time long enough for them to evacuate the unaffected without being attacked by those stricken with madness.

“Technically its possible, but I don’t think you can maintain my presence long enough to evacuate everyone. Not to mention the fact it would reveal what you are.”

He was right, it wouldn’t work that easily, but he had to do something!

“Hey, what’s with those guys?” Raphael pointed to a group on the other side of the madness, “They seem to just be watching, have they caused it?”

Jeralt’s eyes narrowed, and he gave a low growl, “Its likely, but saving the people comes first.” He gave his commands, voice strong and steady, “Focus on rescuing those who haven’t succumbed to whatever this is first, I’ll take the knights to reign in the rampaging villagers. We have the skill to strike without killing, you lot don’t yet. Byleth, you command the students.”

Byleth nodded and swiftly gave her own orders, “Pair up and don’t allow yourselves to separate, find everyone you can and bring them back in this direction. Avoid engaging those rampaging and whoever it is that is watching, saving lives, and preserving your own are top priority.”

Heat from the burning buildings pulsed around him, but Raphael ignored it and pushed forward behind Dedue and Fenrir.

So far, they’d managed to rescue four villagers (thanks in part to Fenrir finding them), thankfully all of them fit enough to retreat down the path the boys had cleared to safety under their own steam, and they continued pushing down the western side of the village. Rampaging villagers had tried to stop them, but fortunately, Dedue could deal with them without raising his blade.

“Grava!”

The space around two maddened men warped and twisted, flinging them back and briefly stunning them. They still jerked disturbingly, whatever was driving their madness causing their bodies to writhe but weren’t a danger for the moment. Since Diablos’ Gravity magic couldn’t land a killing blow, Dedue could fling his spells around without worry, and the powerful ones were great for taking assailants out without actual death. Claude was overhead on his wyvern, and he swooped down to allow his mount to grab the men in its claws and carry them off somewhere they could be held without harming others. This system was allowing them to clear their area and create a safe evacuation path.

“HELP!”

A high-pitched cry came from nearby, and Raphael and Dedue sprinted behind Fenrir to its source. It had sounded like a young boy, hastening their steps, and they swiftly rounded another building, expecting to find a terrified child, but instead found someone else.

“Tomas!?”

The librarian gave a dark chuckle as Fenrir gave a low, warning growl, “Not at all little summoners, Tomas was merely a disguise, one to help me get the blood of the girl Flayn to finish off a certain project.”

Dark light swirled around him, and the features of Tomas warped hideously to morph into the face of a mage Raphael remembered well, the one who’d planted all the Crests within his blood.

“You! You’re the one that kidnapped and experimented on me!”

The man grinned cruelly, “I am Solon, and yes, I am the one you can thank for your new Crests.”

Raphael raised the gauntlets Indech had given him meaningfully, letting their disguise drop to reveal their true nature, “Why, why have you done this to Remire?”

Solon was almost dismissive, “I could have done this experiment anywhere, its success at Duscur was very notable, and it has proven most successful here as well.” He leered at them, “I was given no particular target, so I chose one that might bring you here so I could test another project.”

He barked out commandingly, “Death Knight!”

The sound of a warp spell behind him caused Raphael to spin, just in time to see the Death Knight, fully mounted and kitted in his black armour, materialise before them.

“I hope you will let me have my fun.”

The knight’s voice rattled sinisterly out from his skull-like helm, and Solon sneered back in response, “You will capture the blonde brat, alive and unharmed. Feel free to play with and slaughter the other one to your heart’s content.”

“Very well.”

Dedue immediately shoved Raphael behind him, “Raph, get ready to run!”

He pointed his axe at the Death Knight, speaking confidently, “Stop!”

The knight’s armour glowed and sparked, and he laughed, “Is that all?”

“What, how did that not work!?”

Raphael stared in bewilderment; the Death Knight was immune to Diablos’ time magic!?

Solon cackled behind them, “Fools, that is armour designed for those who once hunted summoners, it nullifies the spells granted by Eidolons. The methods of creating such armour were lost many years ago, but I have now discovered how to replicate it, your magic will not help you.” He addressed the knight once more, “Death Knight, as I said earlier, the blonde brat is to be brought alive and unharmed, kill the Duscan!”

With that repeat of his earlier command, Solon warped away, leaving them facing off against the Death Knight himself. Their foe’s horse took a step towards them, and its rider raised his scythe for battle, ready to charge towards them.

Fenrir moved first.

The wolf, who’d been loyally at Dedue’s side, launched himself towards the knight with a terrifying snarl, the knight’s horse whinnied in terror, throwing its rider off in a panic and bolting away from the predator. The Death Knight was thrown onto his back, only just rolling in time to avoid the wolf’s fangs bearing down at his throat and stood swiftly. However, Dedue was already moving, and he smashed into their foe shield first, knocking the knight off-balance. Raphael was right behind, and his gauntlets shone with light, their blades fully extended and ready to strike. The Crest of Indech flashed behind him, and one of his fists struck twice in a blur, its speed temporarily increased, and pierced the black armour.

The Death Knight grabbed his face and forcefully pushed him back, catching him off-guard and causing him to stumble, allowing the butt of the scythe to come in and strike him in the stomach, winding him. Dedue was forced to block the lethal scythe blade, the force of the strike pushing him back several steps.

Fenrir leapt in with a snarl, but a sharp kick sent the wolf flying with a yelp, and the Death Knight faced Dedue.

“Give me more!”

Dedue braced his shield, ready to take the blow as the scythe swung in again, but the knight hooked it around its edge and yanked, wrenching it from his arm that gave an audible crack as it broke. The boy stumbled forward with a cry of pain, right into a blow to the head from the scythe butt, brutally stunning him and making him collapse to his knees. Raphael hurled himself forward, but the Death Knight kicked out, winding him yet again and throwing him onto his back.

With Fenrir seemingly unconscious, and Dedue stunned, Raphael knew he had to get up and move, but instead found he could only clutch his stomach, coughing and spluttering, the previous blow having incapacitated him completely for the moment.

The Death Knight strode towards Dedue, who was clutching his arm in a daze, holding his scythe aloft and ready to strike him down.

“You fought well.”

The scythe struck…but it wasn’t to be.

There was a mighty flash of light, and the blade rebounded of some sort of barrier, the force of the rebound forcing him back. The Death Knight barely had time to react to this sudden event, before the extended point of the Sword of the Creator lashed from behind, almost wrapping around the scythe’s shaft.

Byleth charged, sword retracting back into its blade form, her face morphed into a ferocious snarl.

“Do not touch them!”

Her warning was level and deadly, far from a shout but clear as a bell and sharp as her blade. The Death Knight turned her way in delight.

“Finally, we fight again.”

Again, the Sword of the Creator lashed out like a snake, looking to strike any weak point in its target’s defence. The knight dodged skilfully, but the professor pressed the attack, closing the distance and forcing him onto the defensive. Raphael could only watch in awe as she moved like an artist, fluid movements, the sword dancing like an extension of herself, each strike precise and without waste, but laced with focused fury. The Death Knight was being pushed back, his own skill finding its match in the wrathful Byleth, looking like the demon of her reputation.

With a skilful move, that Raphael couldn’t follow, the Sword of the Creator wrapped around the scythe’s blade, yanking it from the knight’s grip, and he leapt backwards to narrowly avoid the follow up strike. Putting distance between them, he swiftly backed away.

“I see that Solon has left, so I too shall retreat. We will meet again Ashen Demon.”

A warp spell signified him fleeing, and Byleth growled in frustration, before turning to them, her snarl falling away to leave behind a look of concern.

“Raphael, are you badly wounded?”

He gathered his wits enough to shake his head and answer, “No, just winded. He was ordered to capture without harming me.” His eyes shot to his brother, “But Dedue…”

At his answer, she’d made his way to Dedue, who was still kneeling on the ground in a daze, clutching his broken arm and seemingly unaware of the cut on the side of his head where the scythe had struck it. The now recovered Fenrir was beside him, nuzzling and pawing him with little whines, and Byleth gently moved the wolf aside so she could examine him.

“Dedue?”

He blinked in response, and looked confused, “Byleth?”

She gestured Raphael over, “Quickly, use cure on his head wound, I think he’s only concussed, but it looks like he took a heavy blow to the head. Manuela will need to see him as quickly as possible.”

“What about his arm?”

She shook her head at his question, “Its broken Raph, so that’s beyond the healing magic we have, he’ll need a well-trained Faith user and time for that one.”

That was a fact about healing magic, what the academy taught was mostly first aid and combat healing, meant for open cuts and wounds. Things like bone and muscle were more complex and required greater skill in healing magic, and more time, none of the students or knights with them had the skill to heal a broken arm like this. Even Alexander’s healing spells were designed for cuts and wounds, using them on Dedue’s arm would cause more problems than they’d solve.

As he cast cure on Dedue’s head wound, Byleth gathered materials to temporarily splint the broken arm. Out of it as he was, Dedue did little to resist, and soon they were holding him between them as they helped him walk back to the others, the professor giving a report on what happened as they did so.

“We saved who we could, but Solon’s ‘experiment’ has cost these people a lot. Those who’d been affected by what he’d done didn’t make it, and the buildings are too far gone to salvage, all we can do now is help those who survived get back to the monastery.”

“What about Solon? He’d revealed that he’d been disguised as Tomas all this time, and he was the one that forced me to gain the Crests.”

She looked at him briefly, “So he is likely an important member of those who’ve been behind what’s happened at the monastery and with you.” She glowered, “He revealed himself to us as well, but fled as soon as the battle went against him, father is furious, even more so because the Flame Emperor showed up as well. They tried to get me on their side and claimed they had nothing to do with this, but their Death Knight being here makes it clear they are also connected to Solon somehow.”

“What do we do?”

She gave him a small, comforting smile, “Firstly, get Dedue to a healer, then see to the people who’ve suffered because of this. Then you both need to be with your classmates, this has hit the rest of the Deer hard, we’ve saved a lot of people, but there’s also a lot we haven’t.”

Chapter Text

Ethereal Moon, Imperial Year 1180

Remire had hit the Deer hard.

None of them had been ready to face the horror it had been, though some, like Claude, were trying to put on brave faces. How much had been lost became very apparent when they escorted the survivors back to the monastery, there was a pitiful few remaining, with a large chunk being orphaned children. Many of them were taken in by the church, and Raphael knew that Mercedes had begun comforting and teaching them when she’d heard what happened.

Dedue was the only member of the class to receive a serious injury, the others had been more involved in rescuing survivors as opposed to actually fighting, Jeralt and the knights had handled most of the maddened victims and the enemy. His broken arm took some time to mend, even with Manuela’s skills, the issue not being actually fixing the bone, but keeping it aligned correctly as you did so. His arm was in a sling for a week, with daily visits to the infirmary for Manuela to put it through a round of magical healing to speed the process up. Fortunately, the blow to his head had only been a concussion, but she kept him overnight just to be certain, but it didn’t develop into anything else.

After yet another attempt to get a hold of Raphael, the students had definitely re-established the bodyguard rotation of earlier months, and the Knights of Seiros had increased patrols and presence around the monastery. Jeralt had also dispatched his mercenary company out in search of Solon and the Flame Emperor, he was furious about what had happened at Remire, and was often out on patrols and searches of his own.

Byleth had stepped up their lessons, alongside the rest of the faculty, and had informed Raphael and Dedue that she was looking into the ruins beneath Garreg Mach, but it was going to take some time. For the moment, they focused on their lessons.

“Guess what everyone, the church is continuing the traditional White Heron Cup this year!”

As had become the norm now, many of the students were gathered in the Golden Deer classroom after lessons, and the majority looked up as Claude seemingly bounced in with that report.

Hilda frowned, “Isn’t that the inter-house thing, were each one picks a student to represent them in a dance contest?”

Claude grinned, “That’s the one, apparently this year, the winner is going to get lessons from an actual professional War Dancer.”

A War Dancer was someone who’d been trained to use dance to inspire allies during battle, it involved an unusual branch of magic where dance movements could be used to enhance someone’s capabilities very briefly. Many War Dancers were skilled in both sword and reason magic for their own defence, but were primarily expected to inspire allies, not actively fight.

Annette looked excited, “Being a War Dancer would be so cool, and the winner will be trained by one?”

“That’s what Teach told me.” Claude answered, “She’s been asked to select a candidate for the Deer, and I assume Manuela and Hanneman have been told to do the same for their houses.”

“Well, we know who’s going to be picked for the Eagles.” Caspar stated, “Dorothea has already got dance training, and she’s good with magic and sword as well, I’d say she’s a definite winner.”

The girl in question winked cheekily at him, “Why thank you Caspar, that’s really sweet of you to say, but there are one or two here that could give me a run for my money if they tried. I was primarily trained in song, not dance.”

Hilda leaned forward in interest, “Ooh, who do you think could challenge you then?”

The songstress smiled, “Well, I think Annette could do well with practice and Felix has the coordination, if he manages to have a facial expression that isn’t a scowl.”

Felix grumbled at that, muttering something about him being picked being a ‘stupid idea’, but Annette looked really pleased, “Really, I thought I’d be a little too clumsy to be a dancer.”

“Only because you’re always hurrying everywhere.” Dorothea advised, “If you slowed down a little then you’d make a great dancer.”

“What about the Deer?” Claude asked, “Which of us would you think would suit?”

Lorenz cleared his throat, “Well, I am trained in many social dances, as befitting of one in my position, I’m certain I could bring the required elegance to the role.”

Dorothea sighed, “Sorry Lorenz, but a War Dancer needs more than elegance, I’ve looked into the way their magic works and it requires a degree of…charm as well.”

Lorenz looked aghast at this dismissal of his talents, but Leonie spoke up before he could respond, “So, who do you think should represent the Deer?”

The songstress smiled, “Why, Raphael obviously.”

There were surprised noises from around the room at that declaration, the loudest of which came from Raphael himself.

“Me! Why do you think I would be a good pick!?”

Dorothea winked at him, “Raph, don’t underestimate yourself, you’ve already got a handle on the dance moves I’ve taught you, and you use them in your fighting techniques now as well.”

“But I can’t use magic, and I only know the basics of the sword, never mind the charm thing!”

“You don’t have to use magic or a sword to be a dancer.” Ignatz stated, “I’ve heard of War Dancers using lances and all sorts before, and charm just means people trust you. You’re reliable and helpful, which is the kind of thing a dancer needs.”

“Exactly.” Dorothea added, “Translating brawling into dancing isn’t that difficult, not when you’re already incorporating dance steps already. With a little practice, I’m sure you’ll be able to produce a wonderful routine.”

Raphael still didn’t look that convinced, “Well, I’m sure loads of others could a lot better than me, and Byleth seems keen on keeping me in brawling, so I don’t think she’s going to pick me.”

No sooner had he finished speaking, Byleth herself entered the room and strode straight over to him.

“Raphael, I’m choosing you to represent the Deer in the White Heron Cup. You’ve already had some dancing lessons and I think you’ll be the best choice. Please come to my office later so we can organise some time to give you further lessons.” She looked around the rest of her class, “I know some of you also have some dance training, please help Raphael out with training, since I only know a few things myself.”

Claude, looking like he was trying very hard to not laugh, casually saluted, “Sure thing Teach, the Deer will make sure our representative is at his best.”

She gave him a nod, gave Raphael an encouraging smile, and then left the room again, leaving the brawler staring in shock.

“Huh?”

Dedue was fairly sure there was an ulterior motive to Byleth choosing Raphael as the representative in the White Heron Cup.

Considering what was going on, he felt that some of the thinking was that as a dancer, Raphael could be pulled back from a frontline role in battle. Since his job would be to bolster his allies, there was reason for him to always be with another at any given time, as well as a prime unit to be defended. A War Dancer was too valuable an asset to be thrown into combat carelessly but had to be close to the most dangerous action to be the most effective. Raphael had experience in the frontline and was trained enough to take care of himself when the need arose, but Byleth also had a good excuse to ordered him to retreat if things got too dangerous, especially useful since he was a target again.

Of course, he’d need to win the contest to get the War Dancer training, but the Golden Deer had taken their professor’s instructions to help him to heart and were fully involved in the preparation and practice for the big day. This, Dedue believed, was Byleth’s second reason for picking him, the class were now distracted from memories of Remire because of helping Raphael out.

Hilda was spearheading the actual routine construction, having done a little dancing herself, and was seeing what moves Raphael already knew and teaching him a few more. Lorenz was also involved in this part, while boastful, he was very knowledgeable about the social dances of the nobles, apparently well versed in the different styles from across Fόdlan, and he helped the boy with the finer details of his presentation. Leonie and Ignatz were not as helpful in creating the dance routine, but they were capable of creating the music for Raphael to practice since they knew how to play a couple of instruments, while Lysithea had been looking up what sort of things were expected in a dancer, while also adding in her own dance training. Claude mostly acted as a critic, reporting back on how he thought the routine looked to an audience, as well as offering moral support.

For his part, Dedue had mostly taken on a moral support role as well, practicing alongside Raphael to help him feel less self-conscious, but he had suggested various Duscan steps and techniques he dimly remembered from his childhood to be incorporated in as well. Byleth had indeed given up some of her time to help teach him as well, but she ended up mostly observing, since the students actually had more knowledge about dance than she did.

Slowly but surely, Raphael’s routine for the cup began to take shape, and Dedue had to admit he was quite good now he was actually practicing seriously and getting assistance in putting everything together. Though he would have stiff competition.

As expected, Dorothea was chosen for the Black Eagles, and Annette was picked for the Blue Lions. He’d seen Dorothea practicing and it was clear she was skilled, on top of knowing how to perform to a crowd and get them hooked on what she did. Annette wasn’t far behind either, she still occasionally tripped or stumbled, but the more she practiced, the more confident she became, so she’d also be a solid contender.

Watching Raphael run through his routine, Dedue smiled as Diablos commented on it.

“I have to admit, he’s certainly bringing it all together, I never thought he’d be able to move so gracefully.”

Dedue had to admit he was a bit surprised himself, Raphael had always been very much a brawler, big on muscle with just enough technique to give himself an edge, but now he was far more technical and flowing with his movements. Even the blonde’s muscle mass had changed, while he was still on the bulkier side, and his muscles were well developed, they had actually become more toned over the months at the Academy. Likely a result of him going from primarily weight training to a more balanced regime to help him regain lost strength after his kidnapping. Now, he had better muscle toning letting him perform more dance-like movements, though something had been bothering Dedue.

“What about how his magic works though? We can’t use normal spells because our internal magic pool overloads them and makes them unstable. Will it do the same for a War Dancer’s magic?”

“I don’t think so.” Diablos responded, “Normal spells are cast through use of a formula, which is a rather set method of performing magic. From what Lysithea was telling you, the magic of a dancer is more fluid, they don’t create a formula, just use their movements to manipulate magic in the air to enter a person and empower them. Without a formula fixed on drawing in as much magic as possible, Raphael will have more control over how much he can manipulate. In this case, his magic pool will likely be a boon since he’ll be able to empower someone with more magic than a normal dancer. He might even be able to use his dancing to draw magic into his internal reserves more quickly, or even transfer his reserves into another Scion, like you for instance.”

Dedue blinked in surprise, “So, he could potentially use his spells even more often since he can replenish his magical energy quicker, and enable me to do the same thing?”

“Yes, in fact this might be another reason why Byleth picked him for the cup.”

Raphael finished his routine, to excited applause from Hilda, “That was great Raph, but don’t forget to smile as you dance, that’s the key to getting the judges on your side. If you look like you’re enjoying yourself, then the audience will enjoy it as well.”

“Indeed.” Lorenz agreed, “You’re not just trying to be correct technically, but draw people into the dance as well.”

The boy grinned, “Got it!”

Hilda smiled back, “Good, now we need to sort out the other important thing, namely your outfit for the cup!”

Raphael frowned, “Outfit?”

Lorenz nodded, “Yes, you will need suitable attire to accompany your dance, as well as enable you the freedom to perform it well. First impressions are a big thing, and the correct clothing can make all the difference.”

“But I don’t really own that much…”

The noble waved his hand dismissively, “Do not fear, this contest isn’t just about you, but also the honour of the Golden Deer house and the Alliance, I would be most remiss in my duty if I did not do what I must to achieve the best result. We shall go to the market and see about organising suitable garments for your performance, I should have enough in funding to cover it.”

“But…”

“No buts Raphael.” Hilda interjected, “As Lorenz said, the outfit could be the difference between a win or a loss, and he’s offering to pay, so this is the perfect time to get some stylish new clothes.”

“Indeed.” Lorenz looked to Hilda, “Now, we need to organise a day to head to the market, then decide where we are going to look first.”

“Well, there’s this tailors that does the cutest outfits…”

Unable to get a word in edgeways, Raphael and Dedue could only watch as Hilda and Lorenz, and soon the rest of the Deer, organised a trip to the market to purchase an outfit for Raphael’s performance.

As Raphael shuffled nervously, Dedue clasped a hand on his shoulder.

“You’ll do great Raph, I’m sure of it.”

The blonde smiled back, seemingly a little more at ease, and gave a nervous laugh, “Its kind of stupid, I feel the way I did before our first real battle, I didn’t realise performing could be so scary, I’m not even at risk of dying!”

“From what I’ve heard, everyone gets nervous before performing.”

“But I’ve walked into battles feeling less scared than this!”

It had been two weeks of heavy practise and preparation, and Raphael was just about to go out and do his performance for the White Heron Cup. For what it was worth, Dedue thought he was going to do really well, he’d come leaps and bounds in his dancing since being picked (no small part in thanks to the Deer’s sometimes intense tutoring) and was showing the skill Dorothea claimed he had. However, he was up against the gifted Annette, and the force of performance that was Dorothea, so he understood why his brother would be nervous.

“Just go out there and do your best, I know getting the win would be great, but its not really going to matter if you don’t, no matter what Lorenz says.”

Raphael laughed a bit more at that, “True, though I think he’ll keel over if I don’t win, or at least be as dramatic about it as possible.”

He tugged at his collar, still seemingly a little unsure about his attire.

Hilda and Lorenz had indeed gone all out on getting Raphael an outfit for the competition and had used a brawler’s tunic as a base to go off of. War Dancers traditionally had more flowing robes, but they’d decided to go more unconventional, both with the outfit and the dance, or rather, the outfit was designed to fit the unconventional dance.

Instead of graceful, elegant movements, they’d opted to building a routine around more powerful motions, incorporating kicks and brawler motions alongside spins and even a few acrobatic moves. Since Raphael was trained as a brawler, he was more comfortable using those moves and actually looked more elegant and graceful doing those than doing traditional dance techniques. To accommodate this routine, robes had been ditched entirely, going for freedom of movement supplied by a brawler’s kit instead. There were of course extra tassels and sashes, and Ignatz had suggested adding a couple of bells on bands around the wrists, adding their little jingles to his movements. A white sash came over his left shoulder and down to his belt, where its ends were tied in a knot and then left dangling in a roguish manner. This sash went over a gold tunic, embellished with black thread that ran in a continuous pattern around the seams, and he wore black trousers with gold thread that ran down the sides in a pattern of the various Crests. On his feet were comfortable, slip-on shoes, maintaining the black/gold theme and fastened neatly with buckles.

All in all, it was a simple, but eye-catching design, which fitted Raphael perfectly since he’d been properly measured for once.

The argument between Hilda and Lorenz leading to the design had been something to behold, it had sometimes got so heated, Dedue had been surprised Hilda hadn’t brained the other noble at times, but they’d eventually come down to this design. They’d then taken Raphael to a tailor that would normally be well above their usual budget and had the fitting and ordering done, Dedue’s eyes had nearly melted at the amount that was asked for, but Lorenz had handed the money over without even a blink as he’d promised.

Jeralt’s expression when he’d seen Raphael’s new clothes had been something else (Dedue hadn’t realised the man’s eyebrows could go that high) and Byleth had even broken out a smile when she saw it. The rest of the Deer had been ecstatic and some of the other students had been equally impressed and Dedue was aware that a few flirtatious looks had been thrown Raphael’s way.

Squeezing Raphael’s shoulder again, he gave one last encouragement, “Just go out and enjoy it Raph, you’re going to impress no matter what.”

The three competitors were going to dance separately and apparently lots had been drawn to decide the order, leading to Dorothea starting proceedings.

As expected, she walked onto the floor like the opera star she was, dressed in a flowing dress that blended elegance and extravagance. Her walk was all poise and grace, measured movements that drew in the attention of those around her, her skills as a performer on full display. She performed an elegant waltz, apparently one from a famous opera judging by the comments Dedue heard from the audience, and moved flawlessly around the floor, entrancing those watching. She finished slowly, beautifully singing a few lines to round out her routine and showcase her incredible voice, until finally ending with an elegant curtsy.

Applause thundered around the hall, which Dedue considered to be well-deserved, and she glided back to where the other two were waiting.

Annette was second, and she more skipped out onto the floor for her routine, but her energetic smile engaged the audience watching and was dressed in a shorter, brighter dress to match her personality. She too went traditional like Dorothea, but her movements were bouncy and perky, going quicker than Dorothea’s elegance, but technically quite good. She had a couple of quick spins here and there and held it together well, but unfortunately, she did have a slight stumble, but quickly recovered and kept going as if nothing had happened, finishing with curtsy like Dorothea.

Again, applause resounded around the hall, maybe a little quieter than Dorothea’s, but still exuberant, and Annette gave a little wave and bounded off to join the other competitors.

Last, came Raphael, and he strode out with his trademark sunbeam smile, and Dedue grinned as he watched his brother’s confident strides, remembering Lorenz lecturing him on his presentation (confidence Raphael, confidence!). Soon, he was stood at his starting point, and launched himself into his routine perfectly on cue.

While Annette and Dorothea had been very grounded, Raphael was anything but, leaping and jumping, using sweeping kicks and arm movements to propel himself into each movement. His routine was far from traditional but it garnered oohs and ahs from the audience as he performed steps that looked as natural on the stage as they did on the battlefield, causing them to gasp when he included a couple of flips, not once missing the beat.

“When did he learn to do that!?”

Dedue didn’t respond to Diablos’ exclamation, but he was equally surprised. He hadn’t seen Raphael’s routine in its entirety and hadn’t realised he’d picked up such things and then incorporated them in, Hilda gasping beside him suggested she hadn’t known either.

Raphael finished with a set of three leaping spins before bringing his feet together and bowing to the audience. There was a pause, then an eruption of applause, with some of the Deer giving out loud whistles in support of their representative.

Instead of returning to the side again, Annette and Dorothea charged out, the former nearly shrieking in delight.

“Raphael, that was amazing, when did you learn to do that!?”

Surprised he awkwardly tried to stutter out an answer, but Alois’ booming voice cut across from him.

“And now, the judges shall reveal their votes for the winner!”

Silence fell as everyone waited with bated breath and Shamir announced her vote.

“I choose…the Black Eagle house.” She nodded at Dorothea, “The performance was flawless and breath-taking.”

Excited whispers came from the Eagles, but quickly fell silent as Manuela began to speak.

“I choose…the Golden Deer house.” She winked at Raphael, “Though all strong, that performance was the most unique one I’ve seen in a long time.”

More excited muttering came from around the hall, but Alois quickly stemmed it by starting his announcement.

“So, the deciding vote comes down to me. As such, the winner of this year’s White Heron Cup is…”

Tension built, and Dedue felt himself tense up as well as he awaited the final verdict.

“The Golden Deer house!”

Raphael blinked in surprise as the hall reverberated with cheers and applause, before beaming like the sun.

“I won? I WON!”

Running on the high of Raphael’s victory, the Deer were more motivated than ever, and the cup was heavily talked about for some time after its conclusion.

For Raphael himself, he was out of class for a week, undergoing the promised War Dancer training, but was loving it and Dedue had spent many nights of that week helping him by being the subject for him to test his newly learnt skills. The War Dancer herself loved having him as a student, apparently impressed with the amount of magic Raphael could manipulate through his dancing, likely his Crests and Alexander helped in that regard, but it was great, nonetheless.

As the festival for the completion of Garreg Mach grew closer, thoughts turned to the upcoming ball, the biggest event of the school year, alongside the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Many students were excited and discussing who they were going to go with, but the Deer seemed to be opting to go as one big group and seeing what happened, rather than worry about who was going with who.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t going to last.

“Hey, it’s Dedue, isn’t it?”

Dedue turned in confusion, finding a red-headed girl addressing him, “Huh? Oh, you’re Monica, aren’t you?”

The girl smiled, “Yes, that’s right.”

She’d been imprisoned alongside Flayn and Raphael, but he had to admit he’d been so concerned with his surrogate brother, he’d barely paid her much thought. He remembered it being said that she was staying at the monastery to graduate properly, but he’d barely seen her around.

She’d kept speaking, “Sorry it’s a bit out of the blue, but I was just wanting to quickly ask for your help with something. See, I’m meant to be moving some stuff from the stables, but I haven’t really got the strength to do it, could you please give me a hand?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, thank you, you’re the best!”

She skipped off towards the nearby stables, Dedue following behind, and soon they were entering one of the stalls, currently empty and being used for storage. Dedue had entered first and he looked around at the variety of crates.

“What is it you’re needing to move?”

He was unaware of Monica drawing a thin blade behind him, her smile now something more sinister.

“Oh, just one thing.”

He gasped in shock as something left a light cut across his arm, hearing Monica’s now ominous voice.

“You!”

Whatever was on the blade worked fast, and before he could even respond or call for help, he collapsed into deep slumber.

Chapter Text

Dedue groaned as he awoke from his drugged sleep, senses dulled by whatever had been used on him. The sound was muffled, and he went to open his mouth only to find it stuffed with some material and firmly covered by cloth.

Snapping to wakefulness, he instinctively went to rip the gag away, but found his arms bound tightly down, and soon realised just how helpless he was.

He’d been strapped down to some sort of heavy table, thick belts around his chest and arms, wrists, legs, and ankles, holding him down. His gag was thick cloth, rendering his cries of shock to nothing more than muffled grunts. For some reason, he’d been left bare chested and barefoot, and he shivered in the cold atmosphere of the windowless room.

He was being held somewhere small and built from stone, some old bookshelves and a desk were in one corner, and ahead of him was a heavy wooden door. There were several crates in another corner, as well as a variety of strange tools scattered across the desk that looked newer than the rest of the furniture, his captors likely having repurposed the room for their use.

His eyes fell on one of those captors, and he gave a snarl that was easily stifled by his gag. At this, Monica gave a mocking smile, “Ooh, so scary!”

The girl turned to the door and called out in a voice that was far too cheerful, “Solon, he’s awake for you!”

On cue, the door swung open, revealing the mage from Remire, who’d disguised himself as Tomas. Dedue glared at him, but he briefly glanced at Monica as well.

Was she also in disguise? It seemed likely considering what Solon had done, just how many of these guys were pretending to be someone else?

The mage appraised him, “Good, we can begin the experiment.”

‘Monica’ giggled, “Finally.” She then looked disappointed, “Too bad he’s gagged, I was looking forward to his screams.”

“Unfortunately for you, the gag is necessary to prevent him using his magic.” He leered, “Though it won’t completely silence his screams, I can assure you of that.”

Cold dread ran through Dedue. He was to be experimented on? Were they going to forcibly implant Crests in him the way they’d done for Raphael?

He began struggling against his bonds, finding that there was no chance they would yield. Regardless, he kept trying, even calling out muffled spells in the hope they’d somehow work.

“Dedue, calm down! You know that’s not going to work!”

Diablos’ voice rang through his mind, and Dedue obeyed, focusing on Solon who seemed amused by his struggles. He loomed over his subject, “This particular experiment should be interesting. We’ve discovered how to turn people into demonic beasts, but how could we alter the procedure with a summoner?”

He turned away briefly but soon returned holding a glass vial containing some sort of red, glowing shard.

“Since a summoner is used to holding magic power within themselves, they should be able to carry a crest stone shard within their bodies, unlike others who can only handle having it fixed to the skin. Place this inside them, and its power simply kills them.”

Solon smiled cruelly.

“Now then, this will be interesting.”

Paws pounded upon the ground, a wolf’s eyes scouring ahead as he ran, following the scent of the one he was supposed to be guarding.

He’d been too distracted, keeping watch on Raphael instead of Dedue, making the classic mistake of assuming they knew the enemy’s target, and now the Duscan was missing. It hadn’t been long enough yet for the church to take note, but he knew something was wrong, and Carbuncle agreed with him.

Fenrir rounded a corner, coming to a lesser used area of Garreg Mach that contained a disused church. The scent lead inside and the wolf sprinted towards it, a sense of something seriously wrong powering him.

He had to get there, Bahamut was relying on him!

A hideous roar thundered from within the church, its volume and force halting Fenrir in his tracks. It was a merge of rage and pain, an ear-splitting shriek that could no doubt be heard even at the monastery and was followed by the church wall being obliterated by a demonic beast of incredible size.

It stood on two enormous back legs, immense back hunched as its forelegs were held out in front of its body, massive claws constantly clenching and unclenching. Unlike other demonic beasts, there was no glowing stone upon the head, but this one was clearly far stronger.

It shrieked again, smashing itself into the walls of the church and shattering them, its feet slamming down and shaking the very ground itself as it staggered around. This was not wanton destruction, this was a creature writhing in pain, shrieking in agony, and lashing out blindly at all around it. Its mighty tail swung and demolished the walls behind it, and they came crashing down, the entire building now becoming little more than rubble.

As the beast continued thrash about, Fenrir rapidly tried to find Dedue’s scent, only to discover that the scent was coming from the beast itself…Dedue was the demonic beast!

The wolf stopped, had he been transformed into this monster!? Was that why it was in such pain, was Dedue still in there somewhere!?

Fenrir’s eyes narrowed, no matter the answer, the monster was a danger to everything around it as it rampaged. If Dedue was still inside it somewhere, then they had to find a way to make him human again and if he got close enough, he could find out if the boy had indeed been transformed. Furthermore, they had to contain things before it began destroying buildings with people in it, it may be in too much of a frenzy to target anything specific, but that was possibly even more dangerous, especially when the knights showed up. They were no doubt on their way right now, and they would attack without question, he had to give the creature something else to fight!

“Carbuncle, I need you here with me now! I don’t care if you need to break cover to do it, I’m about to do the same because this is an absolute emergency!”

Fenrir didn’t wait for a response to his telepathic message, instead he focused inwards, and released the seal on his true form that Bahamut had placed to maintain his cover.

The shrieking roar had been heard around Garreg Mach, and knights and students alike rushed to where it came from.

Jeralt was one of the first to arrive, not even his long experience preventing him from stopping in shock and horror at the sight of a demonic beast far larger than any seen before, in the middle of a fight with a wolf of equal size.

The wolf was no monster, it was far larger than the giant wolves and its fur shone like silver moonlight, ice fragments scattered around it, spiralling from the fur itself, and the ground beneath seemed to freeze beneath its vast paws. It threw itself into the demonic beast, seemingly trying to pin it down and halt its rampage, but the beast fought back savagely, though it frequently gave another shriek and thrashed as if fighting itself.

Jeralt began barking orders, shouting at those who were coming from all corners to see the cause of the uproar.

“No one approach them! Knights, get the students and people out of here!”

Many obeyed, but a couple of knights, either too panicked or shocked to hear his commands or stupidly trying for glory, charged towards the warring beasts. The wolf saw their approach, and briefly left of the fight to slam a paw down and produce a blast of cold air that blew the knights away from the melee. As they tumbled back unharmed, the demonic beast smashed into the wolf, and their struggled continued.

“All of you, do as Captain Jeralt commands!”

Seteth swooped down upon a wyvern, his voice carrying with the authority of a battle-hardened general. No one sought to disobey the Archbishop’s second, and soon the knights were hastily getting everyone away as Seteth landed beside Jeralt.

“Captain, we need to find some way to get this under control now!”

Jeralt shook his head, “How, those creatures are well beyond normal monsters, we’d need a full army to even have a hope of halting their fight.” He nodded at the two beasts, “The wolf seems to be trying to keep that demonic beast in place, and judging by the damage, that beast came out of the church…”

“Captain!”

With a shout, Seteth grabbed Jeralt and hauled him onto his wyvern, displaying more strength than he should really have, just as his mount launched into the air, narrowly avoiding a chunk of masonry hurled by the demonic beast. Taking to the air, they circled the battleground as the monster brawled.

“You are correct.” Seteth agreed, “I doubt we have the forces to stop them both, perhaps we should evacuate the area and wait for one to be victorious, then attempt to do something about the victor.”

“Wait, what’s that!?”

Jeralt had spotted something on the ground, and he ground his teeth together when he recognised Raphael running towards the monsters.

“Dammit kid! What the hell are you doing!?”

Seteth, spotting the same thing, let out an uncharacteristic curse and immediately guided his wyvern into a dive towards the boy. Suddenly, Raphael reeled and fell back as if he’d just hit some sort of wall, and a transparent, ruby, coloured surface briefly shimmered into existence where he’d been running.

Landing in a cloud of dust, Jeralt leapt of the wyvern and sprinted towards the confused looking boy, “What the hell are you thinking boy, charging towards two fighting monsters like that!?”

His wide eyes looked to his surrogate father, “I thought I heard Dedue screaming in pain, then Carbuncle started sprinting in this direction! I think Dedue might be in the middle of this somewhere!”

Cold fear ran like ice in Jeralt’s veins, “You think Dedue is in the middle of this?”

The boy nodded, “Hilda said she saw Fenrir running in this direction before the first shriek, then Carbuncle started charging this way too. I followed but just hit something.”

Seteth had been examining the point where Raphael had seemingly collided with something, and he frowned.

“There appears to be some sort of invisible wall here, likely some sort of magical barrier.” He slammed his fist against it, and once again, a transparent, ruby, coloured surface briefly materialised, causing the man to nod, “As I suspected, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this barrier surrounds the two creatures.”

“Wait, someone is containing their fight?” Jeralt also struck the barrier, “But who has the magical power to make something like this, and so quickly as well?”

“That would be me.”

He was answered by a light, airy voice, and all eyes fixed upon its source coming from just the other side of the barrier.

Carbuncle.

The rat glowed briefly, then, with a flash of light, morphed into a strange, blue-green furred creature, with a large ruby fixed upon its forehead. It twitched its long, rabbit-like ears, and appraised them with shiny black eyes as its long, fluffy tail gently waved behind it.

“I am Carbuncle, the master of defensive magic. The barrier is mine, I’ve put it up to try and contain the fight and prevent it from causing any more damage. Fenrir is attempting to calm or halt the monster’s rage.”

“Fenrir?” Raphael’s eyes widened in realisation, “You, mean, that giant wolf is Fenrir, the wolf that’s been with Dedue all this time!?”

“Correct.” Carbuncle answered, “In short, Fenrir and I were sent by Bahamut, the rat and the wolf were our disguises in this world, are true forms are what you see now. We’ve been forced to reveal ourselves to try and save Dedue, somehow, someone has turned him into a demonic beast.”

“Dedue is that monster!?” Jeralt slammed his fist against the barrier, “How do we turn him back!?”

“We don’t know.” Carbuncle admitted, “We have no idea how this has happened, but it looks like Dedue is fighting the monster from within, that’s why it’s in such pain. No doubt Diablos is also doing everything he can to help, but whatever corruption has caused this is strong, we’re trying to find a way to contain it.”

“CARBUNCLE!”

A roar came from Fenrir and Carbuncle immediately sprinted towards the fight, leaving Raphael and Jeralt stuck helplessly outside the barrier.

Dedue fought and strained against his bonds, the straps holding him to the table feeling like steel.

The moment Solon had touched the shard to his chest, he’d felt pain unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He screamed into his gag in agony, bucking and writhing in his bonds, not seeing the shard sink into his chest and disappear entirely. He didn’t notice the room warp and darken around him, Solon, Monica and all the furniture bar the table he was strapped to getting swallowed by darkness. Instead, all he felt was a burning running through his veins, his every muscle, and his bonds tightened upon him. He fought against them, desperate to escape the agony he was feeling, but the more he struggled, the tighter they became, slowly crushing him as they bit into his skin. His gag also tightened, expanding to cover his nose and clamp down, slowly suffocating him as he strained to free himself.

He had no idea how long he fought, time was meaningless, all he was aware of was his fight to get free, to survive.

“De...ue!”

He kept struggling, kept fighting, barely hearing the voice trying to reach him.

“Ded…e!”

The gag continued to clamp down, cutting off his air, and he felt everything darken as he reached the cusp of succumbing.

“DEDUE!”

The shout seemingly rang out around him, and as if in response, his bonds and gag loosened, causing him to glance around.

Diablos?

“Dedue, this fight, it’s not happening in reality, it’s happening in your mind, your very heart. Right now, you have the body of a demonic beast, but you haven’t lost your mind and heart to it yet. Your bonds, those are your perception of the corruption trying to choke you out of existence, to remove your heart and let the body become a monster entirely.”

He didn’t understand, this wasn’t real?

“It is real, and dangerous. I’ve managed to use my power to slow the corruption within you, but it is still trying to kill you, this place is how your mind perceives this happening. We’re trying to find a way to reverse it, or at least contain it, but we need you to fight. Don’t give in to fear and panic, that only speeds it up, stand firm instead of struggling, we will save you, just hold firm.”

He still didn’t really understand, but he could hold firm, and as his bonds seemingly began to tighten again, he tensed and mentally tried to make them stop. In response, they did, then soon attempted to tighten once again, and again he demanded they halt.

How long this cycled continued, he had no idea, his bonds and gag tried to tighten and choke him, but he refused to let them, refused to give any ground to whatever corruption Diablos said had gripped him. The effort exhausted him, drained him in a way he couldn’t understand, but once again, Diablos pulled him from his fight.

“Dedue, we’ve almost done it, get ready!”

He looked up, and instinctively closed his eyes as a blinding light lanced down from above, obliterating the darkness and pulling his conscious mind out of the depths of his own heart.

What happened, Jeralt had no idea, one moment, Fenrir and the demonic beast were fighting, the next, Fenrir and Carbuncle morphed into light that was absorbed into the beast.

The beast gave one last shriek, the sound reverberating in their ears as it thrashed about. The barrier Carbuncle had created seemingly shattered, as the beast collapsed into dust that soon vanished into nothingness, leaving behind the small, exhausted form of Dedue, lying sprawled in the debris of the church building, which had been pounded into little more than shattered stone.

Without thinking, Jeralt rushed to the boy’s side, Raphael right on his heels, and he pulled Dedue into his arms, frantically checking for a pulse, sighing in relief as he found it, weak, but going steady.

“He’s not fully safe yet.”

The mercenary jerked in surprise at the unexpected voice, taking a moment to recognise it.

“Diablos?”

“Indeed, I can talk to you as long as you have physical contact with Dedue.” The Aeon responded, “It’s something we all can do, though we don’t do so very often.”

Raphael had his hand on Dedue’s shoulder, and the look on his face suggested that he could hear Diablos as well, so he asked the next question.

“Diablos, what do you mean he’s not fully safe?”

“Myself, Carbuncle, and Fenrir have found a way to temporarily keep the corruption sealed. Between my space-time magic, Carbuncle’s defensive spells and a helping of power from Fenrir, we’ve created a sort of containment within Dedue to seal the corruption that transformed him. However, it will not hold indefinitely, in fact we don’t think it’ll hold very long at all, and Dedue doesn’t have the strength to hold it off the way he did this time.”

“Especially since me and Fenrir had to junction ourselves to him to pull it off.” A new voice added.

Both Jeralt and Raphael looked at each other in confusion.

“Who’s that!”

“Carbuncle.” The voice answered, “Myself and Fenrir are also Aeons, and now we’re junctioned to Dedue, the way Diablos is. It was the only way to make the seal work, though his body has had a bit of a shock in having two Aeons suddenly add their powers to what he already had. If you take a look our symbols should’ve appeared on him somewhere.”

They both looked at Dedue more closely, and sure enough, they spotted a new symbol on the opposite side of his chest to Diablos’, moving him carefully then revealed a third symbol in the centre of his back.

“Does this mean he has access to the spells of you and Fenrir now?” Raphael asked.

“If he lasts long enough, yes.” A third voice, likely Fenrir’s, answered, “As we’ve said, we’re holding things at bay for the moment, but we’re on borrowed time.”

“Captain Jeralt?”

Jeralt cursed, he’d forgotten that Seteth had seen and heard their side of the conversation, he’d been there the whole time. He looked up at the green-haired man, to see him standing close by, arms folded as he spoke in a carefully measured tone.

“I shall be blunt. Dedue is a summoner, is he not?”

Raphael tensed beside him, and Jeralt reached for the sword at his waist, ready to move the moment he needed to. They wouldn’t be able to convince Seteth he was mistaken, the man was no fool and the symbols of the Aeons were clearly visible for anyone to see, if he had to fight the entire church to protect his boys, then that’s what he was going to do.

Seeing his movements, Seteth held out his hands non-threateningly, “I am not about to inform the Archbishop and have you dragged to your deaths.”

Jeralt did not back down from his defensive stance, “And why wouldn’t you tell her, you’re her closest advisor.”

“Correct, but that doesn’t mean I agree with all aspects of her doctrine.” He inclined his head a little, “The doctrine concerning summoners was created a long time ago, and I do not agree with it, the reason I haven’t challenged it more is because there’s been no summoners seen in years, I did not wish to make waves over something that hasn’t actually been put into practice for a long time.” He nodded to Dedue, “Also, it is obvious that his Eidolon was one of the ones that saved the students and church forces, including my sister, a couple of months ago, he is owed a considerable debt of gratitude.”

Slowly, Jeralt relaxed his stance, but continued to hold Dedue protectively, and Seteth took that as a sign of acceptance, “Now, please tell me what happened, as swiftly as possible. The knights will no doubt be with us soon to investigate what has happened.”

“Fenrir, Carbuncle and Diablos have managed to temporarily seal whatever turned him into a demonic beast, but its not going to last long.” Raphael answered before Jeralt could make a decision.

“Kid…”

“Pa, we don’t have any other options!” The boy was helping support Dedue, and he looked to Seteth pleadingly, “Do you know of any way to try and undo what was done to him?”

Jeralt shook his head but looked to the green-haired man as well, “Well, if you’re going to help, now’s the time.”

Seteth’s brow was creased in a deep frown, “There is no method I know of to undo something like this, in fact this is the first I’ve heard of someone being turned into a demonic beast without a relic.”

“But…”

“However,” Seteth continued over Raphael's interruption, “There is someone who might be able to help, but it involves taking Dedue away from here to see them in person, and we may not have time to get him there before this seal you’ve mentioned breaks.”

“Maybe we can ask Indech for help?” Raphael looked to Jeralt, “He transported me and Dedue a long distance before, maybe he can do so again and get us to this person faster.”

“Indech!” Seteth looked at him in wonder, “Are you saying that you have met Indech before!?”

“Uhh…” The boy floundered for an answer, realising what he’d just let slip.

The Archbishop’s second folded his arms, “Indech is the very person I was hoping to consult, and you’ve already met him before. I believed he’d mostly retreated into isolation, using his power to keep people from discovering him.”

Raphael looked down awkwardly, “Well, he kind of summoned us, he said he’d been watching over summoners for years now.”

Seteth smiled, “I’m not surprised at that.” He frowned once more, “Though if he summoned you two, and there have been two Eidolons sent by Bahamut, as Carbuncle said, then I see that something far greater is occurring. Naturally I wish to know more but Dedue is the more pressing concern.”

The sound of rapidly approaching people halted their conversation, and Seteth swiftly ripped off the cape part of his robes, tossing it to Jeralt, “Quickly now, cover his markings with this, I’ll deal with the knights.”

In the lead of the approaching throng, was Byleth and Alois, the knight shouting to them as he approached, “Master Seteth, Captain! What happened.”

“Alois, there’s been another attack upon the monastery by our enemies.” Seteth promptly replied, “They attempted to use monsters in the assault, and I fear there is more to this than we think. Dedue Eisner was severely wounded in the attack, and I need to take him to a specialist to treat his injuries. He’s been the victim of some dangerously potent dark magic that requires a very particular treatment that the monastery cannot supply.”

At these words, Byleth swept straight over to where Raphael and Jeralt were still holding Dedue between them, crouching down to check on him herself as her eyes silently asked her father what actually happened. He let her take his place in supporting the boy, allowing Diablos and the other Eidolons to fill her in as he added additional information that they had imparted to Seteth’s explanation.

“That’s not all, we need to find the student, Monica. Dedue managed to stay alert long enough to tell me that she’s involved in what happened. She was with Solon and is likely also someone like him, simply pretending to be ‘Monica’ in order to help with these events.”

Seteth looked briefly surprised by this but swiftly added, “No doubt she’s already escaped and potentially dropped her disguise already, however, conduct a full search and investigation of this area and the monastery, we cannot let such people roam free to attack again. From now on, all students must be accompanied when leaving the monastery grounds, and we must increase patrols and tighten security immediately.”

Nodding to his superiors, Alois swiftly agreed, “Of course, I’ll get on that right away. Do you need me to make a report to the Archbishop?”

“No.” Seteth nodded towards Byleth, “I’ll give Professor Byleth a full report to take to Lady Rhea, I’m afraid Dedue’s injuries are too pressing and myself and Captain Jeralt must leave immediately, I’m entrusting the safety of Garreg Mach to yourself and Catherine in our absence.”

“Understood sir!”

Alois gave a swift salute then marched off, giving orders to the surrounding knights, and clearing the gathering of students and townsfolk away from the area. The knights dealt with, both men swiftly returned to Dedue’s side, and Byleth looked up at them.

“What do you need me to do?”

“I’m guessing the Diablos filled you in?” She nodded at Jeralt’s question and he continued, “Good, we need you to take a report to Rhea, obviously some of what happened needs to be altered.”

“Indeed.” Seteth agreed, “We need to make sure we have a suitable story to give her, if we could quickly go over it now.” He looked to Jeralt, “If you could see to getting yourself and Dedue onto my wyvern ready to go as we do so, we’ll depart as soon as Raphael and Professor Byleth have a suitable report to give.”

“Will you wyvern get him there in time?”

The man gave the worried Raphael a comforting smile, “He’s faster than he looks, and considering you’ve said that Indech has been keeping an eye on you both, I believe he will likely speed up our journey considerably once we’re far enough away from Garreg Mach.” His face became serious, “For now, you and the Professor need watch out for yourselves here, everything that’s been happening is focused around you two, and I fear that our enemies my make another move in Jeralt’s absence. Keep your eyes open, and stay on your guard, and do not do anything reckless.”

He looked to Byleth, “Now Professor, let’s get this story straight.”  

Chapter Text

With Byleth armed with a suitable story for Rhea, and monastery security organised, Seteth wasted no time in getting his wyvern into the air, Jeralt and the still unconscious Dedue safely on its back.

Silence reigned between them for a while, but Jeralt was getting more information from Fenrir and Carbuncle as he held Dedue securely in his arms. It was Fenrir doing most of the talking, since Carbuncle and Diablos were focused on maintaining the temporary seal they’d created.

“So, it was Bahamut who sent us here in disguise. He’s another Aeon, though well beyond ones like us, and he sensed that Eden was starting to stir, so he wanted us to investigate and seek out summoners that could help deal with him.”

“And you found Dedue and Raphael?”

“Exactly, we knew what they were the moment we met them, hence why we tagged along and stayed by their sides.”

Jeralt looked down at Dedue, still completely still and silent, but breathing gently, “For which I’m pretty damn glad.”

“Understandable. Anyway, Bahamut is very concerned about Eden, I don’t know what he’s planning to actually do about it, he doesn’t quite follow the same rules as the rest of us. From what I know, he’s way too powerful to be junctioned to a summoner and then summoned normally, I don’t even know how you’d go about bringing Bahamut into this world.”

“So, we can’t expect him to conveniently turn up and deal with Eden for us?”

“Unfortunately, no, we can’t.”

“Jeralt?”

The captain looked up towards Seteth, sat expertly in the saddle as he guided his wyvern onwards, and the man looked back briefly at him.

“Perhaps now would be a good time to inform me of what has been happening, this obviously goes beyond the events of today, and I am curious as to how Eden and Bahamut are involved.”

Jeralt hesitated but gave in, Seteth was putting his neck on the line helping them right now, and he had a feeling that the man might have some insight into the mysteries they had.

“Well, there’s a lot more questions than answers, but very well.”

For his part, Seteth did not interrupt except for specific clarifications as Jeralt explained what they knew, starting with his knowledge of Raphael’s initial time as a captive years before and running through the events of the last few months, as well as the few theories they had. The man was silent for a few moments after he’d finished, likely considering what he’d been told, but soon responded.

“I see, you believe that this group we’ve been dealing with is aiming to revive Eden. That does make a degree of sense.”

He went silent again, and Jeralt assumed that was all he was going to say until Seteth spoke once more.

“You are correct in some of your theories, Garreg Mach was indeed built to protect what was left of Eden’s seal.” He gave a sigh, “During the war with Nemesis, the temple that once stood where the monastery is now, was badly damaged. Seiros feared that the seal would be weakened by this, unfortunately, we did not know the exact magic used to construct the building to act as this seal, simply repairing it would not have worked. Instead, the ruins were covered over to protect them from further harm and the monastery was built on top to conceal them further.”

He glanced back once more, “However, I couldn’t explain to you how the temple maintained that seal, the magic used to do so was never really shared with others or recorded.”

Jeralt sighed himself, “Naturally.” He then frowned at Seteth, “You’re a lot older than you look, aren’t you?”

The green-haired man chuckled, “Of course you would see that, since you’re somewhat similar yourself.”

He smiled briefly, “Considering the circumstances, it may be best to come clean that I’m aware of these things because I am, truthfully, Cichol.” He sighed, “I’ve kept it secret all this time, but no doubt Indech would reveal it unintentionally, and you’d likely work it out from the fact I know one of the Four Saints personally.”

Jeralt was surprised at how unsurprised he was at this revelation, it should have been huge news, but he felt he might’ve suspected it for some time, especially considering his suspicions of Rhea.

“And I assume that Rhea is actually…”

“Seiros herself, yes.”

His suspicions confirmed, Jeralt glowered slightly at Seteth’s back, “So why, if you were against it, did you let her begin persecution of summoners?”

Seteth looked downward, as if guiltily, but answered softly, “I was…otherwise occupied…when she declared summoning to be evil. I’d lost my wife at the time, and my daughter was not well after the war with Nemesis. It took years for her to recover, and by the time I was ready to engage with the outside world again, Rhea’s church was already an established power and its doctrine widely spread. At this point, the damage was already done, summoners had all but vanished, so as I said before, I thought it best not to make waves over doctrine that had not been truly applied in years. As you’ve seen for yourself, Rhea has not been told ‘no’ in a very long time.”

“No, she hasn’t…”

They lapsed into silence again, but Fenrir quickly drew Jeralt’s attention, “We need to hurry, the temporary seal is starting to deteriorate!”

The man’s eyes snapped up to the other, “Seteth, Fenrir says we’re running out of time!”

The secret saint glanced back, “No need to worry, as I suspected, Indech seems to have sped up our journey considerably, we’re approaching him now.”

They’d steadily been flying lower, and soon they were dropping into the mists that had formed below them. Despite the conditions, Seteth guided his wyvern down skilfully, soon landing upon a huge stone alter upon the waters of a lake. The moment Jeralt’s boots touched the ground, the mists rolled away, revealing Indech in all his glory.

The huge dragon wasted no time in giving orders.

“Quickly, place the boy before me and let me have a look. Macuil should be here any moment.”

Seteth looked at the dragon in surprise, even as he helped Jeralt lift Dedue from the back of the wyvern.

“Macuil, how did you get him to come? I thought he’d all but abandoned Fόdlan?”

“He mostly has.” Indech answered, “But I stressed that it was an emergency more than what kind of emergency it was.”

As they lay Dedue out in front of the dragon, Jeralt looked over him as he cradled the boy’s head in his lap, noting his deterioration. His head was shining with a sheen of sweat, and now he was twitching and grunting in discomfort, instead of remaining in still unconsciousness. Indech lowered his mighty head closer, and his eyes carefully roamed over Dedue’s form, the dragon muttering as he did so.

“I see, they’ve somehow infused a Crest stone shard inside his body, it’s trying to dissolve and spread its power throughout him, that is the likely reason as to why he’s turning into a Demonic Beast. A normal human would’ve died outright by now…”

Further musings were cut short by the approach of mighty wings, announcing the arrival of Macuil.

Unlike Indech, who resembled a giant tortoise, Macuil was far more reminiscent of a bird of prey. Though having four legs like his fellow saint, his head was beaked with a crest of horns, and his huge wings ran right along the majority of his back. As he landed, he addressed Indech haughtily.

“Indech! This is your emergency!? I expected some trouble with you, not a human.”

The other dragon was unfazed, “This ‘human’ is Dedue, one of the very summoners you helped enchant the weapons for.”

“I thought I made it clear that that was where my obligation ended, I want nothing to do with humans.” Macuil’s eyes fell upon Seteth, and he snorted, “Cichol, you’ve finally deigned to join the rest of the world. You shouldn’t have bothered; I washed my hands of humans a long time ago.”

Seteth merely folded his arms, “I am well aware, though I’ve also been informed of you supplying some aid to Dedue and Raphael already.” He shook his head, “However, we have no time to talk with each other, Dedue is at risk of turning into a Demonic Beast imminently, perhaps you might be able to help us prevent that?”

Like Indech, Macuil brought his head closer to the boy and growled, “A Crest stone shard, haven’t they desecrated or kind enough? Now they’re chipping of pieces of our hearts and sticking them in other humans, disgusting!”

“It has no real will of its own, being merely a piece, so its power is trying to force him into becoming a dragon, turning him into a monster instead.” Indech added, “Perhaps we could find a way to stabilise its power, by sharing some of our own?”

Macuil’s eyes shot up to look at him incredulously, “You intend to share our power, some of our very selves with a human!? Summoner or not, I will not allow our very essence to be put in the hands of one such as him. I’m not Seiros, handing out my blood to make loyal puppets out of humans!”

“I’m not suggesting we make him a puppet.” Indech argued, “And while I’m aware of your opinions, we do not have much choice but to try. Eden is returning, and he is one of the only summoners we have to try and prevent that, we can’t afford to lose him, no matter the cost!”

“But to share our essence with him…to make him close to a dragon! Its unheard of, we don’t even know if it will work!”

“No, we do not.” Indech conceded, “But the shard is too deeply lodged and fused with him now, it cannot be removed, or its effects undone. Our only chance is to guide its power to something he can control, to remind it of where it came from and cleanse the corruption it now bears.”

At this point Seteth joined the argument, “Indech, do you believe this will work?”

The saint nodded his great head in answer, “I believe so, but I cannot say it will with true certainty. Something like this has never occurred before, anything we try is unknown territory.”

Seteth nodded once decisively, “Then we shall try, if Macuil will not assist us, then we have to hope that what meagre power I have left will suffice.”

“Wait Cichol!” Macuil gave a sigh, “You may make use of my power as well.” He glowered at them, “Though this is purely to increase our chances against Eden, once this is done, you will receive little more aid from me.”

Indech smiled wryly, “Of course Macuil.” He looked down at Jeralt, who’d been watching the argument in silence, “Jeralt, is it? We shall need your aid as well, it may be from long ago, but you have a little of Seiros’ power running through you, we’ll need as much as we can get for this.”

The mercenary, far too concerned with helping Dedue to care how he did so, simply agreed.

“Understood, what do you need me to do?”

“Merely hold Dedue and focus on drawing out the power of your Crest. Cichol and I shall do likewise, Macuil, I shall entrust guiding our power to you and the Eidolons, you’re far more adapt at such things than the rest of us.”

The other dragon grunted in response, “Hmph, then we should begin immediately.”

All of them gathered around Dedue, who was now clearly  twitching and jerking as the monster started to regain control, and Jeralt continued to cradle the boy’s head as Seteth placed a hand upon his arm. Indech and Macuil moved as close as their large bodies allowed and soon Macuil gave the command.

“Now, reach down for your power, you need only bring it up to the surface and I shall handle the rest.”

Jeralt visualised himself reaching into his core, he could feel his Crest of Seiros, usually a fickle beast, respond and start to surge as it occasionally did in combat. As it grew, another power, older and stronger gently took hold, and he fought the instinctive urge to fight the outside force. Macuil’s magic began siphoning his Crest power away, and it was bizarre to experience, he could feel his power flowing into Dedue, and while he couldn’t read thoughts or feelings, he just…felt Dedue there…like some strange presence. He could feel the twisted nature of the power inside the boy, sensed it shrink away and retract from the power Macuil guided in from himself and the others, but soon it started to push back. In response, Macuil pressed harder, weaving their power around the corruption, prising it away from another power within. Piece by piece, he pulled the shadow away, the angry, twisted shadow that wanted to cling and consume. It was as if the dragon was removing a parasite, a foreign entity seeking to only feed off Dedue, and he carefully removed and destroyed every last scrap of corruption, soothing the unseen scarring left behind.

How long it took, Jeralt had no idea, time became meaningless as he focused only on keeping his Crest power drawn out, but gradually, he felt a shift in Dedue’s power, or even his very core. Gone was the corruption, and now Macuil turned the power they were giving towards healing, letting it flow over the damage to Dedue’s very being, gently repairing it, and making Dedue seemingly…more…than he’d been. He felt human, but there was now something not as human about him, but instead of a vicious corruption, it felt like it was…right…something that was meant to be. Eventually, Jeralt felt his Crest resonate, seemingly reacting to something new.

Dedue now had a brand-new Crest.

He had no idea how he knew, but Jeralt felt without a doubt that his surrogate son now bore a Crest that was all his own, utterly unique in the world, and it was at this revelation that Macuil finally gave the command.

“Enough, it is done.”

Jeralt released his hold on his Crest, suddenly feeling the full weight of his far too many years of life, rendering him weary beyond compare. Regardless, he looked to Dedue, still cradled in his lap, to find the boy still unconscious. However, he was breathing deeply, and regularly, as if merely sleeping, and the sweat on his brow was dispersed as his body lay there calmly. He looked to Indech.

“Did it work?”

The dragon took a moment or two to answer, breathing heavily as if as exhausted as him, “Yes, the corrupted power is gone. Macuil managed to dissolve the Crest stone shard and allow its power to safely merge with Dedue. Our power has stabilised it, and it has become a part of him, creating its own Crest.”

Macuil wearily shook his head, “Incredible, I’d not believe it if I hadn’t been a part of it myself. The first new Crest in countless years, perhaps even the first new dragon.”

“You think he might be a dragon now?” Seteth asked in shock.

“It is still unknown.” Macuil answered, “As it stands, he is no longer in any danger, we have successfully assisted the shard in dissolving and morphing into a new, stable Crest. However what further abilities this may grant is unknown, his powers as a summoner seem unharmed, and likely even strengthened, but I cannot tell if he has the capability to transform as we once did.”

He stood and spread his wings, “Now it is done, I have other matters to attend to, I will need to re-enchant his weapons to allow them to work with his Crest. After which I will have finished my part of this affair.”

He paused for a long while, before gesturing with a claw, apparently causing a bright sword to materialise beside Jeralt.

“Give that blade to the third summoner…Claude, wasn’t it? It should work with his Crest of Reigan.”

With that, Macuil took flight and disappeared into the skies.

Darkness, light, surges of power, everything was jumbled in Dedue’s mind. He dimly remembered fighting…something…but it was confused.

Painfully, he cracked open his heavy eyelids, seeing ethereal moonlight above and gradually registering the feeling of fabric beneath him, and some sort of cloak draped over his body. Beneath his head was some sort of pillow, though it felt more like some scrunched clothing masquerading as a pillow, and an arm of some sort was across him, as if to hold him in a comforting embrace.

“Ah, the young dragon awakens, I’d advise you don’t move much, your body has been through a long, painful process and it needs all the rest it can get.”

The mighty head of Indech swam into view above him, blocking out the moon in the sky, a smile gracing the dragon’s features.

“As I said, you’ve been through quite the ordeal, in short you were nearly turned into a monster, but we managed to prevent that from occurring. I’m sure you’ll want to know the details later but for now, know that you are safe here at my lake while you regain some more strength.” His eyes flicked to Dedue’s side, “Not to mention that your adoptive father is unlikely to let you out of his sight for the foreseeable future.”

Dedue turned his head to look to the side, registering that something was pressing against it, and came face to face with the sleeping Jeralt. The man’s brow was heavily creased in a frown and his arm was wrapped protectively around Dedue.

The boy found himself agreeing with the dragon’s assumption, he still couldn’t remember clear details of what happened, but he knew it was bad enough that his surrogate father would’ve been shaken by it. Jeralt and Byleth weren’t going to let him and Raphael go anywhere without supervision now.

Indech gently touched his forehead with his nose, “I think its best if you try to return to sleep, Jeralt is going to be in slumber for a while and you need even more rest.”

Dedue didn’t answer, his few moments of wakefulness had seemingly drained him, and his eyes were already sliding shut. Instead, he turned on his side and unconsciously tucked further into Jeralt’s protective embrace, burying his face into his father’s chest like a child. Though he didn’t awaken, Jeralt did briefly tighten his grip on Dedue as the boy returned to peaceful slumber.

Seteth left his wyvern in the capable hands of the stable master and made straight for the Audience Chamber.

Though drained by his part in stabilising Dedue, he’d returned to the monastery as soon as he was able, knowing that Rhea would want a report on what happened. He’d spoken at length with Indech before departing, his brother informing him that it might be a day or two before the young summoner would be strong enough to travel back and had opted to return and prevent Rhea from sending out the knights to find them with the plan to return and pick both Jeralt and Dedue up later.

The issue now lay in giving the Archbishop a suitable explanation for what occurred and his swift departure. The story he’d given to the knights would not satisfy her, since she had more than enough power to handle dark magic corruption, it had to be something else to cause him to take Dedue away from the monastery. Exactly what to tell her was the tricky part.

Despite Cichol being older than her, Seiros had always been more suited to guile than himself, a trait that had only grown over her long years as Archbishop and being active in Fόdlan’s affairs. She was not stupid, nor easily lied to when her suspicions were aroused, and recent events would’ve certainly done that.

A knight approached him, “Lord Seteth, the Archbishop has requested to see you in the Audience Chamber.”

He nodded in acknowledgement, “I had assumed as much, please inform Lady Rhea that I am coming immediately.”

With a salute, the knight hurried off, no doubt to pass the message on, and he resumed his journey to the Archbishop.

“Brother!”

A journey that was soon interrupted once more, causing him to halt and turn.

“Flayn…”

“What happened brother? Is Dedue well?”

His daughter’s worried eyes appraised him as she asked, leading to him giving a swift response.

“It was a near thing, but he will be well. However, it will a couple of days at least before he can return to the monastery.”

She visibly relaxed at his words, and he gave a small smile before giving a thoughtful frown.

“Actually, I am about to report the matter to the Archbishop and I would like you to accompany me.” He briefly glanced up and down the corridor before speaking his next words, “What happened is of some importance to you as well.”

She looked at him in understanding, “I see, then I would be happy to join you brother.”

He gave a smile and a nod, before resuming his journey once more, Flayn walking alongside him. Soon, they reached the double doors of the Audience Chamber, and the guards swiftly swung the doors open, allowing them to enter without even breaking stride. As always, Rhea was stood regally at the foot of the steps to her chair, seemingly awaiting them with serene calm. There was no one else present within the room, Rhea likely assuming his report needed privacy, and she was unsurprised at Flayn joining them for the meeting.

“Welcome back Seteth, I have been concerned since your abrupt departure. How does Dedue fare? Professor Byleth’s report suggested he was in a serious condition.”

This was the point he had to be careful with what he said, attempting to give enough to satisfy her without revealing, or giving hints towards, what they didn’t want her to know. Dedue’s new, unique Crest, and his status as a summoner were the two big secrets they needed to watch, and he, Indech and Jeralt had opted for the dangerous gamble of revealing the Crest, to try and cover for his powers as a summoner.

With the professionalism expected of the Archbishop’s right-hand man, he gave his, carefully considered, report.

“The same foes responsible for the incident in Remire village, and kidnapping Flayn and Raphael attacked us once more, this time targeting Dedue. They attempted to turn him into a demonic beast, using a Crest Stone shard, fortunately, through a combination of luck and willpower, he managed to keep the transformation at bay until something could be done to stop it.”

He took a breath, gauging her reaction. While yet to speak, her eyes had briefly flashed with surprise and now held an interested gleam. He continued.

“I resorted to drastic measures and took him to Indech.”

She started a little at this, “And he was willing to assist?”

Seteth, after speaking with Indech, was aware that she hadn’t parted with her brother on favourable terms. Since then, Indech hadn’t been involved much with the church or Fόdlan’s politics, the dragon being of the opinion that Seiros was meddling too much in the continent’s affairs. Naturally she’d be suspicious of his willingness to be involved.

“Considering the unusual circumstances, yes he was.” Seteth responded, “The procedure itself is unheard of, and if this group is willingly carrying out such experiments, then finding a way to counteract them is vital. Between myself, Captain Jeralt and Indech, we found a way to fight the shard’s corrupted effects.”

They’d opted to leave Macuil’s part in things out, since he’d estranged himself even more than Indech, and Rhea would know there was more to the story if he was involved, considering his disgust with humanity.

Seteth took another breath, then took the plunge, “We were successful, and we managed to cause the shard to properly fuse and disperse its power through his body, however it has caused him to develop a unique Crest, one that is all his own.”

“What!?”

At this, Rhea clearly showed her surprise and she gazed at him intently, “Is that all it has done?”

“We are unsure.” He answered honestly, “He is currently regaining his strength, and while Indech confirms his Crest is unique, it is not clear if other effects have occurred, or if he is still fully human.”

“You mean, he might be like us!?”

Flayn finally spoke up, her voice a mix of shock and hopefulness.

“Perhaps.” He answered in a measured tone, “But if more than a Crest is present in him, it is likely to only be more minor similarities.”

That is what he and Indech believed, though Macuil had left behind the thought that Dedue might have a dragon form. He and Flayn were proof that their people could lose their ability to transform while retaining other traits, it was likely that Dedue would be more like Jeralt, having a lengthened lifespan and greater strength and power.

“As it stands, we do not yet even know what his Crest does, and we will not be able to discern as much until he has regained more strength.”

Their current theory was that his Crest would enhance his summoning magic, with Indech already believing that his magic pool had been increased at the very least. Hopefully, it would also have some effect on his physical prowess, which they could use to cover its boons to his magic.

“I see.” Rhea closed her eyes thoughtfully and Seteth watched with concealed wariness.

If their gamble paid off, the knowledge of Dedue’s Crest would hopefully draw her attention away from other things about him, also, strange magic like some of his summon’s spells could be passed off as a result of his new Crest if need arose, particularly considering the unusual circumstances in which it arose. Unfortunately, Dedue would be right at the top of her list of important individuals, alongside Raphael and Byleth.

Jeralt, since Seteth was now privy to the secrets of his surrogate sons, had disclosed the circumstances around Byleth’s birth and his following departure from the Knights of Seiros, and he now regarded Rhea with greater suspicion. He didn’t agree with everything she did and preached (summoners being evil key among them), but whatever she’d done to Byleth as a baby seemed questionable at best, but it did explain her sudden promotion to being a professor and seeming favouritism from Rhea.

There were too many mysteries around the monastery, and she seemed to know more than she let on about some of them.

Eventually, Rhea opened her eyes as if coming to a decision, “For the moment, let us use discretion and keep this knowledge between us.”

This had been the expected response, Rhea’s main technique had become deception, attempting to keep the fragile stories she’d weaved over the centuries together. Naturally she’d keep knowledge of a brand-new Crest secret, they were supposed to be gifts from the Goddess, so if a new one appears from nowhere that could lead to others considering Dedue to be blessed by her, or some sort of divine messenger. This in turn could start division in an already divided church, especially since Dedue wasn’t a full practitioner of the faith.

Regardless, secrecy was best, if people didn’t know about his Crest, he would receive less attention, an ideal situation considering his summoning abilities. As such, Seteth nodded.

“Of course, it could bring him undue attention and cause more issues on top of those we already have. My initial story of an assault from strong dark magic should suffice to explain his sudden absence and recovery.”

Rhea smiled, “Indeed, I assume you will return to Indech to bring him and Captain Jeralt back here? I am aware you returned without them.”

“Dedue was still not well enough for travel, and the healing we performed drained Captain Jeralt also, it seemed better to leave them under Indech’s protection while I reported to you what had occurred.” Seteth stated, “Dedue should be well enough to travel in a couple of days, I shall bring them both back then.”

She gave him a small nod of gratitude, “Thank you Seteth, in the meantime let us ensure that we give him a suitable cover for his absence.”