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Chapter Text

1.

Kasumi sat atop the horse, a slight shudder running through her that she was not sure was entirely from the chill of the air. She’d been assigned to scout out the area with the three other horse-mounted heroes- not an unfamiliar task, she thought, recalling the summoner’s unique moniker of “horse emblem” as they had embarked with the quartet.

She was at least grateful for one familiar face, as daunting as said face might be- ahead of the mounted group was the crown prince of Nohr, Lord Xander. He’d been one the troubadour only recalled seeing in passing after she had joined the white haired dragon child’s army back in her own world, often discussing strategy with his younger sibling, a serious look furrowing his brow. But he seemed to be a fair ruler, she had lived at the border of the tense kingdoms of Nohr and Hoshido, but had no experience seeing anything further than that of either capitol. But it was still nice to recognize someone in the unfamiliar world, and she had felt herself giving small smiles of recognition every time she’d pass a vaguely familiar face in the halls of the castle.

The other melee fighter in the team she didn’t know as well, a cavalier from a land that’s name seemed all too familiar from the youngest Nohrian princess- she’d been assured it was spelled differently, however. She was friendly- not one to mince words, but her directness and honest smile couldn’t help settling a few nervous bubbles that had been starting in Kasumi’s stomach. The hero- she believed her name was Sully, was further up now with Lord Xander- both needed to be ready at the forest’s edge to guard the other two members from direct attacks.

In the clearing, however, this left Kasumi alone with the last member of the team. And Kasumi wouldn’t deny that at her introduction she couldn’t help feeling a not-quite-unwarranted shiver down her spine. The woman had introduced herself, in an unshaking and quiet yet intimidating tone, as a master assassin from the World of Blazing- The Blue Crow, Ursula. She’d warmed up- perhaps, to the summoner after a tense fight, and once Kasumi had recalled her offer to the young non-combatant of eliminating anyone at their order. Kasumi felt herself praying to never be that “anyone”.

The sound of hoofbeat barely registered to Kasumi until she heard the familiar eerily calm tone.

“Kasumi, was it?”

The mounted healer felt herself jump in the saddle, gently urging Zitronnen around as she responded and wishing he’d bring his head up a bit more for her to hide behind. “Y-yes! T-that is-”

Luckily, the sound of two sets of hoofs in the vicinity interrupted Kasumi’s stuttering reply.

“Be on your guard,” came Xander’s stern tone, steady but blazing with the fire of battle. “The enemy has started their advance. They have a few fliers and infantry, so the forests won’t hold them back for long.”

Kasumi felt her stomach drop in a sudden worry, but the other ranged fighter merely gave a nod of understanding, opening her tome with a steady gaze. Of course, thought Kasumi, another bout of nerves starting at her chest. Here were a master assassin, mounted cavalier trained since childhood, and the crown prince of a nation. And then there was her- she wasn’t even the best troubadour, the youngest princess of Nohr, and countless others surely, could easily surpass her in that.

“Focus.” The tone was just a bit gentle, and that unfamiliarity caught her by surprise. Sully and Xander had long left to the edges of the woods, and this time she whirled Zitronnen around in time to see clearly the look on the assassin’s face. Though her eyes were downcast to the spells with a thoughtful look, there was an unmistakable smile on her face- not a cruel one, but it seemed almost encouraging, as unbelievable as that seemed to the nervous healer.

“You’re on edge. That’s understandable in battle, but as jumpy as you are now, even an amateur could land a hit on you.” She continued, and it was unmistakable now.

“S-sure… I mean, thank you!” What was the right response? She hadn’t expected someone with such an intimidating presence, and not even someone she remotely knew at all, to be so….. not unapproachable. “I mean-” The assassin’s eyes flicked upwards, the smile playing on her elegant lips now just a hint teasing. “T-that is to say-”

But the noise of winds passing through the frigid air turned both riders to the sky, a pegasus knight soaring above the forest right for them. Kasumi felt herself frozen, hands shaking at Zitronnen’s reins. She knew she needed to move- but how to? All she could see was the sword growing ever closer, and closer, before-

“Move!” The order brought a surge of motion into Kasumi’s arms, and with a flick of the reins Zitronnen galloped out of the attack. But when she looked over, she couldn’t help calling with worry in her voice.

“M-miss Ursula!” The mounted mage had taken part of the attack, and Kasumi could make out a red stain to her shoulder that didn’t match the purple of her clothes.

The assassin gritted her teeth, glaring daggers at the flying knight that had attacked. “You- will not live to regret this.” With one flick of her hand, the spell collided with the Emblan soldier, sending them and their mount backwards towards the forest.

“The fool is downed. No doubt the others should make short work if they are foolish enough to attack further.” Though her tone seemed still steady, the mage had shifted her hold on the tome, now tightly clutching the injury to her arm.

Wordlessly Kasumi spurred Zitronnen closer, already raising her staff as the healing light encompassed the mage, in the green of the healing spell the sword wound closing. “T-there, is it any better now?” She finally spoke, feeling her grip tighten at the staff. It was probably her fault the other mounted warrior had gotten hurt by the attack- she was at least grateful it hadn’t been a horseslayer lance.

The assassin finally met Kasumi’s eyes, looking over the lingering bloodstains on her glove, and then to the healer, who was quite surprised at the approving glint her gaze held.

“Freezing up at an attack- you are far from perfection.” That was certainly true, Kasumi thought, hanging her head.

“But-” Ursula continued, her voice with the hint of something lighter, “somehow I don’t mind it as much from you.” Kasumi’s head whipped up, a shocked look on her face that met the smile from the assassin. “After all, with enough practice and hard work, as you seem capable of-”

Even if the mage was cut off by the approach of the victorious melee heroes, Kasumi had heard enough to feel her nervous jitters replaced by a hopeful grin.

2.

Kasumi let out a shiver, the snow already seeping through her heels. She missed riding atop Zitronnen, somehow it felt more secure than being on foot. Especially like this. She’d been dressed for the June festival, in one of the beautiful white gowns befitting of newly wed couples. It was a little unusual- from what she’d heard it was more close to the Nohrian fashion at marriage ceremonies than the Hoshidan, which had also been practiced in Izumo. In any case, it seemed just as restricting of movement, but she found she could move decently, even when wielding the makeshift weapon of an ornate stand.

It was perfectly suited for the mild weather of the chapels and gardens they’d been formerly fighting in- not so much for the snowy trails of Nifl. Apparently there was a new development in the fight with Muspell, and the Order had been swiftly pursuing it. Kasumi, however, was not as caught up- she’d been in the midst of the June festival- she kind of wished she was back there, grimacing as she shifted her position in hopes of a dryer footing- unluckily one she didn’t find.

The sound of blades clanging sounded not too far away now, and Kasumi adjusted her grip on the makeshift lance. The battle was surely drawing closer to where she was.

A flap of large wings caught her attention, the sound almost familiar as she braced her weapon in front of herself, the gust of wind blowing her hair back as the large animal- a fearsome looking wyvern in Muspell armor- approached. She could hardly make out its rider besides intimidating horned armor and the glint of a drawn sword- one that quickly collided with her defensive spear.

It was then that Kasumi ventured an eye open, brows furrowing as her other eye mirrored the motion, both with a bit of surprise- she didn’t look familiar at all but something of her steady gaze and bearing couldn’t help reminding Kasumi of the royal families of her homeland, even Duke Izana- that sort of regal and solemn bearing of the heirs to the throne. Though it was much different being opposite one with that composure- especially this woman, donned in the armor of Muspell.

Their weapons breaking apart with a clang, Kasumi ventured a glance to her feet, seeing the snow that had been pushed backwards by her stance. The wyvern landed- a distance away but still much to close for comfort- as its rider disembarked, steadily approaching Kasumi.

“You fight bravely, young Hero.” She was an enemy, but her tone sounded so…comforting? So respectful? Kasumi couldn’t help being taken aback. “Do not worry, I do not wish to harm you- my fight is with your commanders.”

Kasumi was frozen in shock for a moment more, before shaking her head. Now was not the time to freeze up, even if the enemy swordswoman was really pretty, and polite too! She squared her shoulders, the stand once more held defensively.

The wyvern rider stopped, hand already going to the hilt of her blade. “I see. I should not doubt the fight of one from the Order of Heroes. My apologies.” She gave a slight bow, and Kasumi almost instinctively found herself replying.

“I-it’s okay!” The words left her before she had a chance to think, and a nervous laugh soon followed as the enemy rider met her eyes with a curious tint. “I mean… that is…”

“If I may ask,” the Muspell soldier began, a slight smile playing on her lips, “What is your name, Hero?”

“K-kasumi. Ah, that is, I’m Kasumi, from Izumo. This dress is.. that is I’m not accustomed to it yet, but I’ll- I’ll give you a good fight.” What was with those lines? There was a strained smile on her face, but inside Kasumi was panicking- why did she say nearly the same thing she had to the Summoner? Why was she saying anything at all?

“Likewise, Kasumi.” The steady tone from the enemy wyvern rider was so calm, and without a hint of derision. She gave a bow, hand still ready at her sword’s hilt. “I am Laegjarn, eldest princess of Muspell. I am pleased to be your opponent.”

A princess! No wonder she had that similar aura, Kasumi thought, a sudden light feeling filling her chest. Wait, no, this wasn’t the time! Opponent- oh no, sudden panic started, replacing the giddy light feeling with one of dread. There was no way she’d win against someone as skilled as Laegjarn, even with a weapon advantage.

“Ready yourself, Kasumi!” Her beautiful voice was turned to a battle cry, and Kasumi shut her eyes tightly as the sword grew ever closer to her raised stand, when suddenly a new sound reached her ears- a howl?

A sudden gust of wind shook Kasumi’s long hair, blowing it the opposite direction as before, and she heard the sound of a sword clattering and Laegjarn’s voice in a teeth gritted sound somewhere farther away. Hoofbeats approached through the snow, and Kasumi ventured an eye open- the Muspell princess had been knocked back, sword raised at the blast of a magic attack as she stood in front of her braced wyvern.

“Do not underestimate an assassin of the Four Fangs.” Kasumi’s head snapped up, she knew that cool tone!

“Ursula!” She turned, a smile dawning on her face. From atop her horse, the Blue Crow smiled, a bit of a smirk but with some comfort in it too.

“You didn’t freeze up this time. It’s not perfection, but you’re getting much closer, Kasumi.” She chuckled, taking in the wide smile on the usually anxious healer’s face.

There was a cry somewhere in the distance, and at the sound Kasumi whirled back to see Laegjarn already mounting her wyvern. “We will retreat for now.” Her expression was solemn, glancing between the two Heroes. A slight smile played on her lips. “But I will await a future encounter with both of you.”

Kasumi somehow found herself watching the retreating wyvern until she could no longer make out the outline in the cloudy sky.

3.

The charred forests of Muspell that so many battles had taken the summoned heroes to as of late always set Kasumi on edge a bit. She wasn’t alone, she felt, seeing the others in the party stiffen. She found herself wishing that there had been someone she recognized more traveling to the battle this time, but she felt that she’d already gotten a lot more confident in the fights in the unknown lands since the time she was assigned to the all-horse mounted team. She followed now at a slow pace at the back of the group- armored knights even seemed ahead of her at this pace.

But she suddenly sped up, at a familiar call from the Commander. At the head of the group with her were the Askran royal siblings and the Nifl princesses- she knew them from passing well enough, but hadn’t actually spent much time in their close company.

And now they all seemed quite concerned. Kasumi didn’t have to wonder why for long, as she noticed an armored man leaning on an icy sword, his hair, even the icey blue streaks at the end of the solemn grey, clinging tight to his brow with sweat and blood.

“No…. I can’t fall here..” The other fighting royals were already braced for the advancing enemy soldiers, and though their formation in front of the man in the burnt armor was tight, he looked weak enough to be downed by as little as a wayward arrow.

So Kasumi was fast to begin her work. Staff raised, she cast the healing spell as many times as she needed, with every charge of it another nasty burn or bloody cut seemed to fold over itself, leaving only clean skin below the violently torn or burnt fabric.

She was about to raise it one more time, focusing the spell on a cut on the man’s cheek, when a gauntlet met her arm with a gentle but firm touch. She couldn’t help jumping, a small squeak escaping her.

“I’ll be fine now.” He looked up now and gosh dang now that Kasumi could see his face clearer he really was quite something. There was a gentle look in his blue eyes- a startling light color like the tips of his hair. “The others might need healing as well after the battle,” he continued, and staggered to his feet, still leaning heavily on the sword’s hilt as he pulled himself upright.

“S-sure!” Kasumi squeaked in response, clutching the staff. He was a lot taller, and now that she had dismounted Zitronnen to look at his injuries, stood a head over her. Said horse chose the moment to nudge her gently with his head, and she gave another surprised noise at that, but was grateful for the opportunity to break eye contact.

Why was she getting so worked up, she wondered? Almost not noticing the hand that helped her mount the horse, she looked down too late to see the swordsman leave his hand from the beige horse’s side, a kind smile on his battered face. It was a smile Kasumi couldn’t help returning awkwardly.

“I apologize for not saying so earlier, but thank you,” he said, giving a bow. “I would have likely not made it for much longer without your healing and kindness.”

“N-no problem! Just happy I could help out!” She replied back, one hand nervously to the back of her hair. She already felt a bit less nervous, taller than the foot swordsman atop the horse. “O-oh, I’m Kasumi, by the way,” she introduced, a bit awkwardly. “A troubadour from Izumo. Nice to meet you.”

“Well met, Miss Kasumi,” the man replied with a bow, and the same heart-stopping smile. “My name is Hrid, Prince of Nifl.”

Chapter Text

There was a wistful look in the Prince of Nifl’s eyes, a look that Kasumi met with concern. It had been several days since the group from Askr first reunited with the prince, but the slight feeling of discomfort in the air had barely dissipated. It was understandably so- with his arrival Hrid brought news of the possibility of a traitor in their midst.

In some ways, Kasumi was not as surprised as she expected to be. She had grown to know several heroes trained in espionage and related tactics, she reflected on as the group made their steady progress through the burnt forests. But here, they were all so open about it- it was not their world, and through some means or another they had given their trust to the Summoner, the leader of their forces.

The prince was different. He had loyalty, undeniably so, to his younger sister, Fjorm, who had been a valiant fighter in the army’s ranks for some time now. But he had been weakened much from his constant battles with Surtr’s forces, and despite his hand steadily resting on the icy blade at his side, it did show.

As the light blue eyes darted to meet hers Kasumi broke her gaze off, instead opting to look at the ground as Zitronnen slowly trotted alongside the others around them. The rhythm of his hoofs set her at ease, if just by a fraction.

“S-sorry for staring….” Kasumi felt her voice come out softer, an unaccustomed heat at her cheeks. She ventured a glance back to see the Nifl prince give a curt nod, his expression serious but not angered.

“It is understandable. I have arrived bearing such unpleasant news, and cannot offer much in exchange for your help.”

Kasumi wanted to say something in response, to comfort him perhaps, but could think of no suitable reply.

She caught him staring again much later, when the group had stopped to rest for the night. The dancing sparks of the campfire illuminated his face, and though many of the burns there had healed it seemed almost a reflection of them once more.

But the ice cold gaze was not directed at the fire. Instead it lingered on the beige horse that had been tethered to rest for the night.

“I thought so.” The voice was familiar, but it made him jump all the same. “You like horses, Prince Hrid?”

As the royal turned sharply, Kasumi felt herself freeze up with nerves. “Ah- I’m sorry to surprise you! It’s just…” Her voice trailed off as the prince stood to approach.

“No need to apologize.” His voice was steady but gentle, and he stopped a ways away from her, posture relaxed but still polite, and she found it put her at ease.

“You are correct. In Nifl, I usually fight on horseback. But seeing as my objective in Muspell was one of stealth, it would only serve as a tactical disadvantage.” His eyes still lingered on Zitronnen, and Kasumi felt a relief in her shoulders. Maybe, under the heavy weight of the crown, the prince could use something more relaxing. Something to remind him of his home and all he loved there.

She took his hand without thinking, pulling the prince along after her. “This way,” she called in response to his startled sound, but felt no resistance from him. Leading him to the horse, Kasumi smiled as Zitronnen’s head tilted in curiosity at the new person.

“Zitronnen, this is Prince Hrid. He’s a horse rider as well.” She spoke, patting the horse’s head gently. The fur under her fingers was soothing, and she guided the large animal towards the Nifl prince.

“It should be okay, he seems to be at ease around you.” The prince’s laugh was a bit dry, and it made Kasumi stop, a bit of regret at her choice of words. But Hrid seemed to not mind, hesitantly reaching a hand out to offer the horse, who sniffed at it before pressing his large face onto the prince’s palm.

Before long, both seemed as close as old friends, the horse contently nuzzling the prince’s gentle touch. Kasumi felt herself relax at the sight, leaning back as she watched the two in the dim light of the fire. The prince seemed so much more at ease, and the fire highlighted the gentle look in his weary features, but curved into such a relaxed way it seemed a rare and beautiful sight.

Kasumi felt her own eyes tiredly closing, and didn’t notice Hrid’s approach until his hand found her shoulder. The touch of his bare fingers was cool, even through the fabric of her shirt, but it was a comforting feeling.

“I must return your apologies, this time I seem to have startled you.” He still spoke in the same formal manner, but there was a slight laugh at his lips. “For this moment, you have my immense thanks. I feel as though my thoughts have been cleared and spirits lifted.” He gave a low bow, and Kasumi felt her heart flutter in that moment. “You have my immeasurable gratitude.”

Chapter Text

“Kasumi dear.” The words made her jump, even more than from the beat. Nervously the troubador’s eyes slowly shifted from the ground they were advancing on, meeting the horse mounted assassin across from her.

“Y-yes?” She felt her voice nearly squeak in response, the feeling bubbling in her chest seemed harsher than she remembered it. She tended to be a mess around the Blue Crow- the elegant and poised woman made her heart beat so quickly, hands shaking with a sort of excitement she wasn’t entirely sure of the source, but it was a warm and happy feeling at its core. This- this was different. A shred of it still remained, like a spark in the long-doused fire. She felt awful at it- this wasn’t how she felt- or felt she should feel, but maybe after what had happened, she deserved it.

“Kasumi…” Delthea’s voice seemed an echo of Ursula’s sentiment, the young mage standing between them in the row holding her tome to her chest in a way that seemed so different than her usual cheerful and playful self. She glanced up, her bangs hanging low over eyes, before glancing away again. Kasumi broke the eye contact too- now here she was making Ursula worry and Delthea feel bad. Was there anything she could do right? The frustration came out in her tight grip on Zitronnen’s reigns, who gave a short whinny more nervous sounding than usual.

“S-sorry… I won’t slow you down today. D-don’t worry about me.” She forced the words out, though they felt stale on her tongue. It was almost a godsend when the sound of music began, turning their attention to the enemies advancing. She’d at least do her part here, if nothing else.

By her other side, the last member of the party gave a sigh, stoic and dutiful as always, but with a flash of deep empathy in his eyes for the second he turned them to the troubadour.

Kaze detected the footsteps long before the mage had even turned the corner. But he stopped at her voice as she called out. He didn’t feel much like hiding in the shadows- maybe it was the old memories had recently resurfaced in his thoughts.

“Hey- Kaze, was it?” Delthea had had it on her mind the whole battle, and with every hit to an enemy her resolve had only grown. It was beyond obvious to her that the two- Kasumi and the mysterious ninja- knew each other. She didn’t really know how or why, but she suspected that perhaps Kasumi seemed to like those mysterious and brooding types. But more than that there was something of trust between them- something maybe more shared than that. And she didn’t want to sit by idly, watching as Kasumi suffered-her friend, maybe even her best friend, who’d kept her company when she was lonely or homesick, who’d woken her from nightmares of the voice in her head being not her own, reassuring her that she was here and safe, and was truly herself. And she was not about to let that kind person lose to herself.

When the ninja only barely turned in response, he heard Delthea give a laugh, a bit of nervousness in her tone. He didn’t have much doubt why she had approached him- it was obvious to him that the young mage was attached to Kasumi, almost like a sister. And that assassin too- they may be from different worlds but the shadows of those in that shared trade were no stranger to him- no matter the place they had that same familiarity. Said assassin he could sense- somewhere close by, just close enough to hear, but he did not doubt her intention either. He’d seen how ruthless she was in battle, as befitting as one of the elite killers of her world, but also the side she showed around his old friend- patient and almost gentle as she explained the uses of magic, the arts of espionage combat, and mostly the smiles on both women’s faces as they talked.

So it was not a matter of not trusting these two, he thought, as the younger mage continued. “So, I was wondering at the battle before, and a few before it too. You’re from the same world as Kasumi?”

The question seemed to warrant a response, so the ninja nodded, keeping the stoic look on his face and the same formal posture as usual. The young Valentian mage didn’t seem daunted by the daggers in his hands, if anything her look had a slight bit of curious intrigue and wonder- well, under the cloud of concern for her friend.

“Yes. Kasumi and I are both from the World of Fates. There, she was one of the court musicians of Izumo, and a trusted advisor to Archduke Izana. I was under the service of the nation of Hoshido, which maintained neutral relationships with it. We both came to fight under Corrin, when the young noble was forced to raise an army and fight.”

“Oh, really? That’s neat,” Delthea replied, but her eyes darted elsewhere in a nervous sort of way. The ninja could guess what she was trying to find the words to ask- it seemed clear enough to him that both mages were concerned for Kasumi, but he stayed silent. Better to actually address the question if it is what they want to bring up.

“So, ummmm, this is a liiiittle weird to ask, but-” Delthea gave a nervous smile despite the concerned look in her eyes, nudging the dirt path with one foot in an unsure way. “-do you know what’s up with Kasumi?” He’d been anticipating it, but it still got him by surprise. “Like, I know the last fight in Muspell was tough for everyone in it, is that why?”

Kaze looked away, not to escape but to gather the words that would be best for this. He’d wondered how to address it from that moment the other day.

The ninja was on the second team sent out to Muspell, he could feel the scorched cinders at his feet as he walked, but it didn’t faze him. No, none of the horrors that he saw the others look at with pity and fear in their eyes- not until that terrible cry. One he recognized the sound of.

“Kasumi!” He could see her now, Zitronnen standing faithfully at her side at the edge of a clearing, but even the horse seemed to have a look of pity on his face. Kasumi herself was crumpled on the ground, head downcast as her now messy brown hair failed to hide the falling tears in her eyes.

And now, Kaze could see why. In her arms was a head of green, the ornate gold of the Muspell headdress on the general cracked and charred, the ends of her hair also painfully burnt. Though her eyes had been closed, he could see the tears and blood at the corners of them unmistakably clearly, as well as the dabs to them, as if to wipe away all of it, even the pain. Now, however, Kasumi was still, her only motion the occasional wracking sob. Her gloved hand was pressed up with the still woman’s limply interlocking her fingers, which she returned in vain with urgent squeezes. Her tears fell on the woman’s still face, mingling with the blood and wiping away the ashes.

Kaze stayed silent as he dropped to a kneel at the healer’s side, but he glanced over to her. She didn’t meet his eyes but had undoubtedly sensed him.

“K-kaze….” Her voice was cracked and broken, as another wave of tears left her eyes. “Kaze, she-”

A hand gently found her shoulder. The sensation felt so familiar but so bittersweet. “I tried and I t-tried to heal her. B-but not even one wound would close!” Kasumi’s lip curled as the tears kept falling, rubbing the corpse’s still hand to her cheek as if desperate to recall that warm sensation.

“I- I failed again. F-first Izana, now…..L-laeg….”

Now it wasn’t a hand, but two arms, the green cloth soft against her teary face as the ninja hugged her from behind. She wanted to say something- thank you? Go away? Or mostly, what and why is this?

“You did not fail. Not for Laegjarn, and certainly not for Izana.” He pressed his head to the back of Kasumi’s brown wavy hair, the sensation was just a bit familiar and comforting, despite the troubadour’s shaken state. “You were there for her.” Though as he spoke, he knew how hollow the words must feel. It had been his luck that in his case the one he had let down, the young child of the Queen, had survived and returned safely, even grown to trust him. Gosh knows his mistake had been much more grievous than whatever Kasumi had played a part in. But the pain was unmistakable, and that feeling he was quite familiar with. If it had been solely his fault, then it could have been preventable, had he only been more dutiful. Had he been better- that must be the same thoughts that were troubling the troubador in that moment.

The mage looked back at him curiously and he felt himself wondering whatever sort of expression he was making. But there was a flicker of a smile that eventually reached his lips.

“Kasumi is…. she lost someone dear to her in that battle. Perhaps they were on enemy sides, but it was painful to see her go.” He recalled once in passing hearing the troubadour’s excited retelling of her first meeting with that general- no, princess, he could remember the thrill in the Izumo retainer’s tone, her eyes lighting up even in the shadowy evening, and the flush unmistakable on her face as she had gushed about the encounter with the sword wielding wyvern rider during the rendezvous with his scouting team in what seemed ages ago.

Delthea’s eyes softened, mouth curving to a shape of shock and sorrow as she looked down. Though there was no surprise in her reaction, and he figured she must have also had a similar grief.

“She’s strong. But this is a very hard time for her.” He wasn’t sure what more to say, and Delthea had fallen silent as well, she wasn’t fumbling any more and looked down at her feet.

“I see……. Kasumi…”

From the shadows, the assassin had indeed been watching her fellow mage converse with the Hoshidan ninja. Ursula gritted her teeth behind the perfect lips- her feelings manifested in the tight grip of her tome. This whole situation was so…… imperfect. Kasumi had worked so hard, improved so much, and just for this? She remembered the general that the ninja mentioned- undoubtedly skilled in combat, if not a much different field than her own, and she definitely remembered Kasumi’s shy but pure hearted feelings for the young woman. These feelings of loss and mourning were something she rarely considered- she couldn’t afford to as an assassin, but she could see as clear as day how much they affected the healer.

“In any case,” she could hear the ninja’s calm yet sympathetic tone, it seemed so far away. “She needs some time to recover, but it's clear how much you-" He seemed to linger on it, as if adding silently a “both” for the assassin’s ears only, "-mean to her. It’s a terrible time for her without question, but being able to spend time with you likely means so much to her.”
Delthea stopped at the genuine words of praise, her feelings caught in her throat. Usually she didn’t bat an eyelash at such praise when it was towards her magical abilities- she was a natural talent, of course. But this was different. Sometimes she worried that she just got in Kasumi’s way, or brought her down with her own problems, she tried to be light hearted as always around the healer for that reason as well. But the words were so genuine and so honest. She could only nod in response.

Kaze gave a flicker of a smile, eyes turning to Delthea as he nodded, before flicking to the shadows of the hallway that masked the Blue Crow. “I am grateful as well. Our paths may be different here than in any other world, but I have been helped here by Kasumi, and I do not plan on not returning that feeling.”

Chapter Text

It had been a while since that fateful day, and Delthea had heeded the ninja’s advice about her friend’s current overwhelming emotions. She was a bit hesitant to reach out- she’d known loss for sure, she could barely remember that grey morning from childhood standing in front of the twin tombstones with her brother, but she remembered his face streaming with tears though he kept silent, his then-shorter hair not obscuring a thing. She hadn’t quite understood at the time, but she did feel a cold loneliness- a loneliness of the two kind voices she knew in her heart that she’d never hear again, and the two sets of strong adult arms that would never lovingly embrace her and her brother again.

Nevertheless she made an effort to break through that fog that seemed to nearly be tangible around the Izumo troubadour, sitting near her at meals and even visiting the stable- she’d seen the quiet form of her friend curled to her horse’s side, an occasional sob breaking the silence of sleep. It had taken her by surprise to see she was not alone there, as the assassin leaning at the stable diagonally across gave a finger to her lips at Delthea’s look of surprise, her smile sly but just a bit melancholy. She’d explained to the Valentian mage the sleeping spell, one for a dreamless repose, as she pointed out in the tome. The younger mage thought she saw that blue lipped smile drop for that moment.

But that had been days ago, and today particular Kasumi had looked quite cheerful- much more so than before. She’d gone out to combat with another team of heroes, a few who were learning newly acquired skills and needed a little extra healing due to them. Upon returning her smile was tired but genuine, perhaps being able to help others had brightened her mood.

She’d sat down at the same table in the mess hall that day, noticing as she glanced back at her side a small wrapped gift in Hoshidan fabric that hadn’t been there before. The sweets enclosed were different, but bore a striking resemblance to ones she’d often enjoyed in Izumo. It didn’t leave much to guess who had been the sender, even without seeing the tail end of the ninja’s purple scarf disappearing hurriedly down one of the hallways.

She noticed Delthea nearby, as always, and this time found the words finally reach her throat to call over to the teen mage, the smile coming to her face more naturally this time. She didn’t fail to note how the girl’s brown eyes lit up as she hurriedly took a seat at Kasumi’s side, grinning widely. It felt nice to talk with her again- they didn’t discuss anything too heavy or serious, but felt chuckles in both of their throats. Someone was going around with a new striking pair of red glasses, and when Delthea suggested them on her brother she didn’t fail to notice and soon after tease Kasumi over her reaction.

“My, you look in good spirits today, Kasumi.” The smooth voice cheerfully mingled with the laughter, as the other blue mage approached with her usual poise.

“Yeah- wait, how much of that did you hear?” Kasumi felt her face flush a bit. At the assassin’s quiet and knowing chuckle, she felt her face redden more. “Ursulaaa! Just because you’re a stealth expert doesn’t mean you should just do that without warning!” But before long all three’s chuckles softly mingled, a sound of relief and release of the tension that had been repressed for so long.

“Speaking of stealth,” Ursula added after clearing her throat, the smile still spread across her lips. With a lightning fast movement her hand snapped to grab a familiar purple scarf, and with the sound of a surprised male voice Kasumi couldn’t help smiling again.

“Really now, to be caught so easily. It makes me wonder if you were even trying to conceal yourself,” the Elibe assassin added, but the criticisms seemed more in jest and playfulness than anything else. Kasumi met the familiar ninja’s eyes, and both felt themselves smiling and laughing with relief.

“Thank you.” The first time it was a bit quiet, as Kasumi looked down at the now half finished wrappings. But it seemed to quiet the other three, and she felt six eyes trained on her. “No, really.” She turned around, beginning to stand and face all of them. They’d done so much, supported her so much the last few days. That sting of guilt and defeat was still a fresh wound to her heart, but with their care and gentle support, each in their own way, she felt it slowly but steadily closing. “You all…. I can’t say it very well, but tha-”

“Kasumi!” The summoner’s voice broke the still and warm feeling with a new wave of worry. Their tone sounded so urgent, so …excited? The troubadour nearly felt her heart drop in nervousness- what possibly could be going on? She hardly noticed the other three square themselves, body language defensive as they stood around her.

They stayed close at her side as the summoner took her hand, leading her to the familiar light of the summoning circle. What was going on? She still had no idea, but despite the surprising actions none of the others seemed to be angry at her, or demanding of her- but that just confused her further. She found herself missing that prince of Nifl- though she’d only known him briefly he always seemed to say things plainly and simply, not leaving a single detail to question no matter the urgency of the situation, and being so unfamiliar with these lands she was greatly reassured by that.

Kasumi still was in a daze when the summoner shot that odd-shaped sacred weapon towards the stone, nor when the red orb collided with it, sending a wave of smoke and light across the small gathered group.

The headdress was the first thing she saw above the fog, unbroken and shining in the light. It was almost too much to take in, but Kasumi leaned forward anyways, eyes wide with a hope she didn’t dare want to let herself accept should it be false. But as the figure became less and less obscured, she could see everything clearly- the red and black armor, the color of smoke and ash, the startling green hair complete with its golden streaks, those piercing yet gentle red eyes, full of confusion but also maturity and formality, that wandered for a few moments to her new surroundings before locking on Kasumi’s brown ones with a heart stopping recognition.

The healer couldn’t help herself any longer- if it was a mirage, if it was a dream, so be it, she couldn’t resist any longer, and with tears in her eyes and a wordless shout rushed forward, right into the summoned hero’s arms.

She felt a warmth somewhere both close and far away, the same she had felt in the mess hall moments before, and somewhere she knew that those she had grown to care so much for were by her side. And she felt the armor too, and especially the strong but gentle warmth of the arms beneath it that embraced her back.

“Kasumi….. I cannot quite remember, but you are… you are familiar.” Her voice was gentle, without the painful coughs of blood, without the cracks and dying gasps. Kasumi squeezed her waist tighter, minding not the hard armour. A gauntlet found her head, gently running metal-cased fingers through her long brown hair. “I’m here now. I’m sorry to worry you.”

Finally she found the words to speak, looking up at the wyvern rider with a teary smile. “Laegjarn….”

“Yes?” The Muspell general’s touch was comforting and as warm as a crackling fire.

She liked the way the woman’s name sounded on her tongue. “Laegjarn,” she repeated, snuggling into her warmth. She would protect her this time. She’d keep those wounds healing, and would brave even the fires of Muspell with her staff to keep them from consuming the one she loved so much. “Don’t worry either. This time, I’ll protect you too.”

Chapter Text

The pain was overwhelming. The flames were overwhelming. She could already no longer hear the desperate shouts in that gentle and familiar voice, and the warm sensation from the gloved hands that desperately reached for her had gone too. She knew they must still be there, the teardrops falling on her charred skin as well, but she could no longer feel anything. She knew she was not long for the world, but the worry and guilt pushed her to stay. More time, more time, she needed to tell them. They had to- they had to save her sister. Or she would have met this fate for nothing.

“Laeve- tai…” Her lips struggled to form the words, until the last bit of energy had died, extinguished like a smoldering candle.

She was not expecting to ever awaken, but certainly not to this feeling.

“Oh neat, you’re alive.” The words were the first she could make out after the fuzziness had started to dissipate, slowly as her consciousness brought them into focus. She had never heard the voice before.

Her instinct was to open her eyes, look around or ask something, but at the slightest muscle she felt the pain return once more, and despite the pain at any words she could not help but scream.

“Whoa, easy there.” The voice was as laidback as before, but with a slight air of concern in the words. There was a pressure to her shoulders, and though the pain still remained she felt as though it had lessened considerably. “Can’t be moving around right after getting your life back.”

The words made her stop, heart dropping in her chest. That must have caught the owner of the voice’s attention, as it changed once more.

“Sorry, sorry, it must be a lot to take in all at once.” She could feel something lighter beneath her eyelids, as if that vision which had been irreparably charred by the flames was slowly returning. “But you must’ve had some important things, to want to come back this bad. Well, you’re back.” The voice gave a short laugh, again with an almost caring sound. “Just sit tight a while longer, and I’m sure you’ll settle them before long.”

The general of Muspell, Princess Laegjarn, could not help but comply, what little strength she had spent, but she felt much less pain as her consciousness left once more.

It had been several months since then, she thought. The patrolling route was good for that quiet introspection that came with solitude, one that took second priority to surveillance but that was welcome nonetheless. With the wind of Askr gentle behind her, she almost felt as if she was someone else. Yes, this sort of life was nothing she would ever have dreamed of before, back when she had lived in Muspell as a general of Surtr. Those days, her only thoughts were of protecting her sister from the fate she had witnessed so many times before- the older siblings whose shadows she had followed, who were so much stronger than herself, falling one after the other as they inevitably failed. Falling to the flames, the flames of their father.

The flames in Askr were different. Small, tentative, from practicing mages, sometimes they were warm and bright and soft from torches and campfires. She’d seen burns here too, but they were ones sustained from practice battles most of the time, and they always seemed to be looked to by the kind and diligent healers of the Order.

Including Kasumi.

The thought brought a warm feeling to the rider’s chest, even on the cool winter day. When she had felt her life fade in the troubadour’s arms back in Muspell, she had never expected to even see the young woman again. Much less so soon. The light had cleared and she knew her sight had returned too, blinking as the crowd of onlookers came into view. And there, growing closer and closer until she had wrapped her arms around her, was that very person. She had cried into Laegjarn’s chest, warm and salty tears, and her embrace was warm around her waist as well. It was an embrace she readily returned.

She learned then too of her sister, who much to her relief had survived with only minor injuries. That dreaded Rite of Flame the Order had prevented the younger swordswoman from performing, and now Laevetain, as the last surviving member of the royal family, had become the new ruler of Muspell. Of course the news had put Laegjarn much more at ease, and shortly thereafter a message was dispatched to bring the news of her arrival to her sister. Perhaps the reunion was not one either one of them had ideally wanted, but it was a comfort nonetheless to her.

The sound of hoofbeats came from the ground below, gradually growing louder as the rider approached, and Laegjarn slowed her wyvern, flying lower to the side of the familiar brown mount. Atop it was the mage she expected to see, the woman she had first met on opposing sides the very time she also met Kasumi.

“In the middle of something?” The mage assassin’s voice was raised slightly to counter the sounds of their mounts, but she seemed calm as always. “Something has come up, it seems.” Her expression was cool, but there seemed a bit of tenseness in her lips, as her expression turned to the ground.

“Thank you for letting me know, Ursula.” Laegjarn replied formally, bowing her head slightly from atop the wyvern. “Where is it?”

“Near the summoning ruins. Some of the others have already gathered, if they are still there from before.” Laegjarn was not surprised, the group that Kasumi often fought alongside seemed close, yet had seemed to not object to her presence despite her role on the enemy side. But despite the knowledge she could not help a worry that had begun to build in her chest- with all hope she would make it in time, if it was anything that would put Kasumi in danger.

To her relief it was not. She and Ursula had arrived around the same time as Kasumi, who had rushed a bit nervously to Laegjarn’s side as she dismounted, the feeling of the gloved hand in her own a familiar and welcome one that the wyvern rider returned with a smile. The three of them had headed forward together to where Delthea and Kaze stood, in front of a blue maned horse and its familiar rider.

“P-prince Hrid?” Kasumi’s voice was soft, as if hesitant to believe the sight before her eyes. The healer had dismounted, gloved hands still tightly clutching Zitronnen’s reins, but she seemed to have frozen in that position.

Laegjarn could not help feeling a chill as well, the sight of the Nifl crest decorating the horse’s saddle could not help but bring back the memories of every other time she had seen it- through the flames of the war, as she had steadied herself and her thoughts in her best efforts to prevent casualties for either side.

But now was not that battleground, she reminded herself. The territory in Askr was neutral grounds, and besides that the war was over. But the sight still left her shocked. She hadn’t seen much of the eldest prince of Nifl during the war- mostly just his younger sister, who had allied with the Order. He had the same ice blue eyes, but like his sister’s they were hardened slightly by the painful ravages.

The prince steadied his horse with an ease and gentleness that could not help but remind Laegjarn a bit of Kasumi. His voice was steady, and less deep than she had expected, and he spoke with a practiced tone of formality that sounded familiar in her ears.

“I apologize for the commotion and hope my arrival is not interrupting anything. Would it be possible to speak to the Summoner, would they be available?” His voice lingered slightly, as if weighing whether to say anything more, and his eyes flitted to Kasumi for just a second, their look just a hint longing.

“I- I missed you!” Kasumi replied, louder than she had wanted, before looking down at the shock of her own bold words. “I- I mean, I’ll get the summoner right away!” As if avoiding her honest outburst, she hurried, still leading Zitronnen, to the summoning ruins ahead.

There was something just a bit pleading in the prince’s glance to Kasumi as she left, but it dissipated under formality as he shook his head slightly, dismounting but still standing close to his horse. Laegjarn could not help but wonder if he was summoned from another world or had merely traveled from the same one like his sister- like herself. He seemed to share the mutual familiarity with Kasumi at least.

When Laegjarn’s eyes glanced to the prince, she broke the gaze as their eyes met, suddenly feeling self conscious at the impoliteness of staring. But the Nifl prince spoke first, dissolving the moment’s awkward silence.

“I apologize for my rudeness.” Laegjarn ventured a glance, and to a slight surprise the prince was bowed deeply, a slight blush of embarrassment dusting his icy cheeks. “I fear I have let my curiosity come before manners, and I am deeply sorry for that.”

Somehow the words seemed to relax Laegjarn’s nerves, if just by a small bit, and she gave a smile while returning the bow. “It is no problem, Prince Hrid. You must have many questions about this new place.” There was empathy in her words, and the Nifl prince’s eyes softened at the tone as well.

“Thank you for your kindness, Princess Laegjarn.” He looked as though he wanted more to say, but did not, instead giving a polite stance, one hand at the reins of his horse. If her feelings could take physical shape, she wondered that they would not look too dissimilar to that pose- the polite and restrained posture of a diplomatic heir, with all effort to cover any motions that would be rude or impolite, despite the worry and curiosity brewing beneath.

The others were silent as well. Kaze stood a bit away from the others, eyes constantly scanning the area- the not too distant ruins, the road to the Order’s base castle, and the gathered few. Ursula also watched in silence, one hand occasionally thoughtfully resting at her lips as the other held her tome, ever at the ready. Delthea had given a soft laugh, but looked away from the others, clearly not inclined to share whatever had amused her. They may not have much connection but their friendship with Kasumi, Laegjarn could not help but wonder.

Her thoughts were interrupted at the approaching hoofbeats from the castle road, and with a smile of relief she could see the rider approaching was in fact Kasumi. However, that feeling changed as she noticed Kasumi’s expression- there was an uncertain and worried glint in her eyes.

“The Summoner has called us.” Her voice was serious and a bit colder now, but somehow her eyes still shone with a hopeful light. “Another war has begun, and we are all needed for it.”

Chapter Text

Right away Kaze could tell the sound was unfamiliar. It was unmistakably the strong gusts of a wyvern’s wings, he could be sure of that, but it was not any he had grown to know, not that of the Nohrian riders he had known from his own world, nor that of the general he had grown familiar with here. It was only natural that he turned slightly at the sound- he was, after all, making no effort to hide himself at the approach, and doing so suddenly would be for the worse.

The mount drew closer to the ground, and its unfamiliar rider leaned over the side, equally unfamiliar to him. She was dressed in the spring festival garb from this world he had grown familiar with, but nevertheless she seemed more than at ease wearing it.

The rider leaned forward on her mount, slowly and deliberately crossing her legs at the saddle. “Kaze, was it?” Her voice dripped like honey, but there was danger beneath the sweet surface. She continued before he could confirm without batting an eyelash, and he could not help but wonder if she had already known who he was. “I wonder if I couldn’t ask you for a little bitty favor. You see, your dear friend Kasumi, who has been fighting the Tempest with me until just recently,” she continued.

Kaze had relaxed himself, thinking over the rider’s words. “Well, something must have happened to frighten the poor thing. Ever since we returned to the castle she’s been white as a sheet, with the most dreadful look.” Her tone seemed somewhat mocking, but despite that Kaze could not help wondering if there was a hint of genuine concern in the woman’s voice. “Do be a dear and check up on her, would you? I’ve heard you two are quiet close.”

On the last few words she leaned forward, sliding the carrot tip of her arrow to Kaze’s chin. It took all of his instincts to not respond defensively, but he focused on her words of Kasumi- that was truly concerning. The troubadour may have been from another course of events than himself, but he could remember those that had transpired- likely many of the tragedies and disasters had played in front of Kasumi’s eyes. Perhaps something similar had happened during the mysterious Tempest that brought back those terrible memories?

But for now, he kept himself steady as the carrot left its place at his neck. He must have flinched, for the rider gave a pleased smirk, and he was glad the bow he gave was an excuse to break eye contact. “I already plan to, but thank you for your concern.”

The rider seemed satisfied, readjusting herself on the wyvern, spring-adorned bow now set across her lap. “And do tell me how she’s doing, won’t you? I would hate to not know about such a darling thing as her.” Kaze gave a nod once more, but it was a more cautious one- he would have to discuss with Kasumi herself before making any decisions on this particular matter.

The rider’s face seemed concerned for just a second, but it was replaced by a smile. “I’m afraid I must be going, what a shame. But do check up on Kasumi, won’t you darling?” Despite her familiar and calm words, as soon as the rider held the reins to the wyvern, Kaze could tell she was just as much an expert as any.

The unfamiliar wings beat away, but he could make out the approaching footsteps clearly- those were more than familiar. He knelt in respect as their owner approached- perhaps here was different, but he still felt the old deference return in the presence of others.

“General Laegjarn.” He greeted the eldest Muspell princess in that way, but this time she did not respond with the usual modesty and urges for him to rise.
“She’s left.” Laegjarn’s voice was low and frustrated, but after a few moments she knelt as usual, offering for Kaze to rise, which he did.

“That was Loki.” Her words were brief, and there was something a bit tense to them. Kaze had heard the name before- like Laegjarn and her sister, she had worked for King Surtr, whose violent destruction the Order had previously opposed. But unlike the two sisters, and even their father, Loki had not been seen in Askr since the end of the war- always on the opposing side in every rare encounter- it seems perhaps she had taken the side of their new enemy now.

Laegjarn broke the silence, her tone serious but not aggressive. “What did she want from you?” There was a worried shadow in the general’s fierce red eyes, and coupled with the already growing worry for Kasumi, the ninja could not help but feel a bit unease at what exactly had transpired in the Tempest.

“She has joined us during the Tempest, it seems, and has been fighting alongside Kasumi.” Laegjarn’s brows furrowed at the news, one gauntleded hand pressed to her lips in deep and worried thought.

“I see.” Her words broke the silence, and despite her attempt to sound neutral there was still much tension in them. “And how is Kasumi- has she returned from the Tempest as well?”

Kaze felt the worry growing in his chest. “She has…. but it seems something that transpired there has affected her badly.” In an instant Laegjarn’s eyes widened with worry, stopping in her pacing and staring ahead unfocusedly.
“I was going to see her now-” he said after a moment, and to his relief the general responded with a nod.

Her voice sounded distant and detached. “I’ll be there…. shortly.” Kaze nodded, giving a bow out of formality at his leaving, but before that stopped briefly at the stone-still figure. It was unnatural and unbecoming, but he reached out, giving a gentle pat to the general’s arm- at least it seemed to break her from the daze. Her red eyes had returned to focus, though there was still worry and sadness in them.

“Thank you. It was weak of me-” She stopped, as if catching herself. “Now, Kasumi. Please, see to her. I will be there soon.” She repeated the words, but Laegjarn seemed to be more grounded, more herself- the clever general Kaze had gotten to know, whose orders saved lives at every battle. He could leave with a bit of the worry on his chest lifted.

The Order’s castle was extensive and grand, but in the expansive castle there was a small area that Kasumi greately preferred. It was on her request one day, when she had worked up all of her courage, that the arrangements were made for shared quarters between the small group of other Heroes that she trusted. She had hoped at the best for her new friends’ quarters to be in proximity to her own, but had not expected the end result of her inquiry to be shared quarters for all of them.

It was to those quarters that Kaze headed now, and the memory of the first time they all had lodged there he felt with a pleasant nostalgia. Kasumi, her face flushed with embarassment, asking in a small voice if his wife was alright with this. It could not help but make him chuckle at the situation- he could never bear to court, much less wed another- the sacrifice he had gladly made for the young heir was the only suitable end for him. But maybe in her world he was different.

The ninja stopped at the door, body stiffening before moving skillfully to the side, shrouding himself in the corridor’s shadows. He was not alone.
“Despite your looks, you are an assassin after all. Impressive, Kaze.” The voice from the opposite side of the hallway was deliberate, but was one he was quite familiar with, even before its owner stepped slowly out of the shadows, her heels clicking on the stone.

Kaze gave a bow in return, also stepping into the light to meet her in front of the door. “The same to you, Ursula.”

The assassin known as the Blue Crow did not waste time on formalities, addressing Kaze with a serious look in her eyes. “I take it you are here for the same reason as myself?”

He gave a nod at her glance to the door, it was clear that they shared the same motivation. “Correct. I was given word that something may have happened during the Tempest.”

Ursula gave a sigh as his words finished. “I can hardly blame the child. Those are a ghastly experience,” she murmured with a low tone. Kaze could recall hearing of a past Tempest regarding the assassin group that Ursula had been a part of in her own world, as well as its enemy there.

After a moment the tome-wielding assassin continued. “She arrived here close to an hour ago, and I have been monitoring the doorway since. Her signs of life within have not faded either.” Ursula’s words were cold in choice, but there was undeniable concern in her tone.

The ninja gave a nod, a grateful look in his eyes. But Ursula seemed unfazed by it. “It is merely the job of an assassin to monitor the lives of others- my choice in this place just happens to be to not take it.” Whatever her way of showing it was, he could tell that the skilled assassin cared for Kasumi as much as any of the others.

A quiet voice from the other side of the door interrupted the bated silence. “Ursula? Kaze? Are you both there?” Kasumi’s voice was hesitant and only barely audible, but both assassins let out their breath at the relieving voice.
It was Ursula who answered. “Yes, both of us are here. May we enter?” After a tense silence the soft and hesitant affirmative answer came, and it was with relief that the two of them pushed open the door.

The room’s interior was largely the same, save the cot that Kasumi usually used, now bundled with a thick horse blanket that the two could easily recall seeing atop her horse, Zitronnen. The shape under it was clearly the size of the troubadour, whose head peeked from it just a bit.

The light was dim, but it barely hid the dark circles under Kasumi’s eyes, nor the paleness of her blood-drained face. But she still attempted to reply cheerfully to the two assassins she trusted so much.

“H-hey…. sorry about this. J-just a little tired after the Tempest, I guess,” she said with a nervous laugh, hoping they would take no notice of her state. That was not the case, as both drew near, sitting on the bed opposite hers and looking at her concernedly.

Ursula opened her tome, leafing through it with a leisurely air that was beginning to have a relaxing effect on Kasumi. Next to her, Kaze was also silent, but instead had turned his head, staring at nothing in particular. The expression Kasumi knew too well, and it pained her to see that look and to do nothing. But as she tried to move herself forwards, she felt the bitter clamp to her chest, and could only collapse back under the blanket.

“My, you certainly do look tired today, Kasumi.” Ursula’s voice was hard to read, all emotion masked. It was something Kasumi recognized with apprehension, but she forced the instincts away. There was no reason to be scared here- she was safe as long as she did not do anything.

But her eyes lifted up at that particular moment, meeting the cruelly narrowed blue of the merciless Blue Crow. “Perhaps you would like to never awaken, hm?”

The assassin hardly lingered a second, tome open and one hand already growing with magic, before sending it dissipating into the air with a sigh. Her expression had no hint of sadistic amusement, only quiet realization playing upon her lips.

“As I thought, you’re afraid of something.”

The sudden change in the tome assassin’s demeanor made Kaze freeze as well, cautiously lowering himself from the guarding stance in front of Kasumi. Ursula’s actions had caught him by surprise, but his instincts had moved him in an instant to the side of his friend, even before he had finished thinking so. But it dawned on him, as the other assassin closed her tome, what her plan, however cruel, had been.

And that plan had been effective. He could hear a quiet sniffling from behind the blanket, growing slightly louder and less restrained. As he turned to meet Kasumi, he could see her eyes obscured with falling tears, hair a mess and face red as the dark circles beneath her eyes became more and more watered.
In one clumsy motion Kasumi took the embrace offered to her by the ninja, fingers desperately clawing to his fabric as she let out a cry. Ursula drew nearer as well, and Kasumi’s embrace extended to her as well, minding not her mentions of such clumsy and foolish actions. But despite these words, she as well did not stop Kasumi, nor draw away.

It took some time until Kasumi was able to form words, but she did so, her usual caution slightly lessened from emotion.

“I… I don’t want to see you killed….” That was the first thing either of them could make out, and it was met with looks of wry surprise from the two assassins.

“You do realize who you are saying this to?” Ursula asked, dry humor in her tone despite her lack of a smile.

Kasumi only shook her head, wiping another tear from her cheek. “I know…. but.” Her mouth curled as if trying to find words, but only sobs came out.

Kaze rubbed her back, feeling the sobs ebb as she softly muttered between them. “I miss Lord Izana… I just want to see him again.” Her tone was so painful, and somehow seemed to resonate with his own feelings- ones he would never share and ones he did not deserve to have. Not for the lord he had failed.
Now the ninja found words failing him, as he tried to find something to say to ease his friend. Promising that that would be soon was impossible- none of them knew what whims their Askran superiors would order for them. And even if they were to see each other, it may be even more painful for Kasumi to have to fight the lord she was so devoted to.

Her next words were soft, but both assassins heard them clearly. “If it was his orders…..” It was as if something clicked for the ninja, and judging by Ursula’s face, she had had the same thought. The recent arrivals and change in attitude from their leaders in this world, the bits and pieces they had heard from the Tempest Trial- if such violent threats were made, he could easily see how it could have been hard for his friend to bear.

It still left Ursula with confusion, even after the realization. How this childish healer trusted her, a trained assassin who had killed countless before, but such resolves of bloodshed from another left her in such a state. But somehow, in this moment to her, it mattered not. Kasumi was clearly at her lowest point- the person she had been glad to fight by the side of, now reduced to cowering prey. It was the sort of sight that would have, had Kasumi been her lord, led to an instant decimation of the pitiful leader. Perhaps it was because they were closer to equals- perhaps that was it. It could not be something as foolish as ‘friendship’, that she knew well.

There was much the two assassins could do, and that they were unparalleled in. They had infiltrated guarded secrets of their own worlds, strategized with impeccable cunning, and slain enemies without the slightest hesitation. But in this moment, there was little they could do. Little, besides being at either side of the shaken healer as she cried out in finally released fear, in the castle that's light held more terror and cruelty than its darkness ever had.

Chapter Text

“I want to see Lord Izana again.”

The words escaped before she could stop them, but it wasn’t like her odds of victory were great as she shook of the last remnants of sleep. Her eyes adjusted slowly, blinking in the dim morning of the stable. She’d fallen asleep there again it seemed, and a nudge and soft whinny behind her snapped her out of the tired melancholy.

“Ah- Zitronnen..” The beige horse snorted softly, but didn’t seem irritated in the slightest, if not just a bit more awake than his rider. Kasumi felt a sigh of relief on her lips, wondering for a moment what to say.

“Just… thinking about the past.” That was the truth, after all. “Do you remember Lord Izana too? He was always very kind to us, despite that we weren’t from Izumo.” She couldn’t quite tell, but the horse’s eyes looked soft and understanding. Even if her words weren’t understood, Zitronnen had always been her friend- someone to listen to her troubles when she needed it.

Today was a big day for the Order, after all. More advancements were to be made regarding the invasion of Hel, the realm of the dead. Kasumi had been ordered to join the parties advancing in the morning- though it did calm her just a bit to think she would at least be alongside some of her trusted fellow Heroes. Kaze, as well as Hrid, were to be participating as well.

However, when she arrived at the appointed time, neither of them were anywhere to be found. A sudden worry clenched at her throat- what if……no, that was unthinkable. They had to be safe here, right? But her doubts had grown so much as of late, she almost was inclined to think they would be safer on the unknown battlefield than in Askr, at the will of the commanding officers of the Order.

Of course, all four of them happened to be present, as if to further escalate the anxiousness welling in her chest. She slowed Zitronnen, hands shaking at the reins. Perhaps, if she was lucky, they wouldn’t notice- she could just blend into the crowd when more Heroes arrived….

But luck was not on her side, and she felt her blood run cold when the Summoner turned.

“How are you faring, Kasumi?” Prince Marth’s voice was steady and friendly, a much-needed anchor in the whirlpool of anxiousness that Kasumi felt in her chest. Things had, after all, become a bit better as the rest of the Heroes arrived. There had been only a few in the group, and unfortunately neither the Hoshidan ninja nor the Nifl prince were among them, but fortunately there had been enough for her to make herself scarce among them.

Even the confrontation with the Summoner, as confusing and nerve-wracking as it was, had not been as bad. He had only nodded at her, a finger to his lips as Kasumi met his green eyes as lifeless as a frozen pond. The look confused her, and was almost as terrifying as her nerves- what could those eyes, with that same trapped look that she felt, possibly mean? He had only shown it for a moment, swiftly lowering his head once more as soon as one of the other three had roughly grabbed his shoulder to get his attention.

But those worries would have to wait until later, and Kasumi gave a nod to the prince in response. “I- I’m fine. Thank you for asking.” Wait, that sounded rude- especially to a prince. “Uhm, how are you, Prince Marth?” He was quite an exemplary example of one, all things considered- kind and compassionate to his comrades and even enemies, and modest without being dismissive of himself. From what she’d heard, he had had his share of painful experiences- but even those had not destroyed the goodness he displayed.

Yes, he was a good leader- the sort that inspired others to follow him. That was what Kasumi thought as the prince, with a kind but wary smile on his face, addressed the group of heroes. He was a good leader and a good lord- but he was not her lord.

All she could see was darkness. Was this truly the land of the dead? Everything felt fuzzy and unfocused as the colors and shapes started to return, and what she saw she felt she could not put to words.

The sounds, the feelings, everything was the same- save one voice.

She recognized the man’s voice- his pleas growing more and more clear, as if she was drawing nearer to him.

Then she could make out a face- the combination of his ombre hair was like an autumn leaf, cascading down his long bangs and ponytail. But as peaceful of a sight that was, his expression was anything but- eyes almost overflowing with tears as his teeth bared in desperation.

If Kasumi was acting upon logic, she would say she had never seen him before. But there was something more in her chest that felt- that knew otherwise.

“Can you- will you save her?” She recognized the words for a moment, but despite that the sound was muffled in her ears she knew in her heart what they meant. That feeling of overwhelming worry- for a loved one he knew was in dire peril. Kasumi nodded, and the man’s hands felt as warm as a campfire in her own. Her face felt just as warm for that instant.

What had she been doing? Where had she been? Kasumi could not think of it. It was all a blur, but there was a warmth in her chest still. That, and a terribly longing, missing feeling.

Something felt as if it resonated with that here. It was all too clear in her eyes, as if to only conflict with the feelings in her head. Even the sound was too clear, too distinct- from the consistent dripping somewhere in the temple-like room to her own footsteps clacking on the tiled floor.

And before long, another set of footsteps joined her own pacing.

“You’re going to-” She could not keep it in as she saw the white haired man in armor steady his lance, brows furrowing harshly over his cold but shining eyes. She had never seen him before (and something of that sentiment felt familiar) but she felt all too well that this fight he must be preparing for would be his last.

The man froze up, head jolting for just a half second, before returning to his steeled stance in resignation. “Yes. It is what must be.” His voice was bitter, but there was something broken in it as well.

Kasumi felt her hand ball into a fist, eyes turning for a moment to the ground, before returning to the knight in faded teal armor.

“Don’t give in to your fate.” And she said his name clearly, as if it was one all too well known to her.

“Kasumi?”

The troubadour whirled around, dodging an arrow that took off a bit of her jacket’s trim as it grazed past her waist. When she met the Elibean hero’s questioning gaze, Lyn had not even begun to lower her bow arm, the arrow surely meeting its target, as the shout in the distance confirmed.

“Lady Lyn! Is everything alright?” She’d forgotten until now that they must have all separated upon arrival- her thoughts had somehow blurred, as if in a dream. She’d seen something- or done something, but what it was she could not remember, save for a warm, longing, and urgent feeling in her chest.

Lyn nodded, adjusting another arrow in her bow. “Yes, it’s fine. But we could use some help, if you’re able.” The horse rider nodded in the direction behind her, and Kasumi recognized at the gate of something resembling a dam, an unmistakably familiar face.

Her eyebrows furrowed, and the feeling in her chest seemed to confirm it with her. “No problem,” she replied with more confidence than she thought possible. Lyn’s smile was kind and relieved, but she barely noticed it. The only thing in her thoughts was the girl ahead, enveloped in an otherworldly purple aura, with eyes blank and cold.

Somehow, they’d done it. Delthea had not recognized her, nor did Kasumi really expect her to- for some reason. She had not changed much since before, and the cheerful and teasing personality she was accustomed to seeing from the Zofian mage was still chillingly absent. But this was still Delthea- this was still her friend. Kasumi held the girl steadily in one arm, raising the staff with the other as the scrapes and wounds faded from her arms. Delthea did not struggle or resist, but instead stared back blankly, in a way that almost looked confused. But she was safe- for whatever reason she had agreed to follow the Order- the statement made Kasumi’s heart waver in recognition, but the feeling of dread in her chest had subsided to what must be relief- someone’s relief, at least.

Lyn and the others were preparing to leave, and Kasumi had just helped the blank-eyed mage atop Zitronnen in the same preparations. But something stopped her.

“Sorry about this, Delthea,” Kasumi said in an apologetic tone to the seated mage behind her. But Delthea’s answer was steady and monotone, with no sign of disapproval.

“It matters not. Do what you will.” An unnervingly cruel chuckle passed her lips, so unlike the cheerful Delthea she knew, who at her most cruel would do only a harmless prank. “I’ll kill whoever gets in your- our way.”

“Uh, Lady Lyn?” The Sacaean lord turned around from atop her horse, but her confused look was replaced with one of realization. “There’s something I still need to do. I’ll catch up in a bit.” Ordinarily the determined tone, especially from herself, would have left Kasumi in shock, but somehow it did not even occur to her now to feel anything of the sort.

Lyn nodded, her expression a bit hesitant, but her eyes shone with respect as they met Kasumi’s. “Very well. Take care, Miss Kasumi. And let us know if you need any help.”

Somehow, it never occured to Kasumi to look back as she rode further into the darkness.

The hall of the wedding banquet was pristine, and despite the battles the only stains on the white carpets were from spilled wine and cake. Kasumi wondered, with a slightly morbid grin, if this had upset the bloodthirsty side of the possessed young mage, but Delthea at the most seemed disinterested, playing with a fallen flower with the tip of her boot, the flowers at her head sliding just a bit forward on her bangs.

Kasumi, on the other hand, had changed into more than just flowers. Someone from that same late spring festival town remembered her from the previous year, and had insisted she try on the same wedding ballgown once more. Delthea would have laughed, had she had full control of herself, but even in her heart wrenching state it did bring a bit of relief to Kasumi’s heart to see her, for half a second, suppress a chuckle behind her Death tome.

From then on, they had ended up in fight after fight- it was, after all, a festival of competition. And somehow, Kasumi could not shake the feeling of someone with ombre hair there previously- but it all felt like a faded dream, and anything besides that she could not recall.

“Wait, is that-?” The voice was familiar, and Kasumi turned in surprise, the sight before her nearly making the long-restrained tears fall in an instant. Standing a ways away were none other than Prince Marth and his fiancee, Princess Caeda, dressed in the same white ceremonial clothing as herself.

Caeda approached, her long white gown billowing as she rain. “Miss Kasumi, is it?” There was a gentle and kind look in her eyes, and though Kasumi had barely met the Talys princess, even within Askr, she could see how the young woman inspired others, much like her fiancee did.

When Kasumi nodded, the princess gave a relieved smile. “Thank goodness… we were all worried about you when you did not return.” Her eyes were downcast for a moment, and Kasumi could not help feeling bad at the pained look on her face- they had barely even seen each other, but that the princess cared so much about even such an unknown member of their company- it left her quite surprised. But it was not a bad surprise in the slightest.

“Sorry for worrying you.” Kasumi’s words were genuine as she gave a low bow, fingers clenching at her stand-turned-lance. “I.. just ended up here after-”

The hoofbeats had stopped as Marth approached, carefully descending from his horse to Caeda’s side, and the expressions on both of them were understanding, not reproachful in the least despite their evident worry.

“It’s alright,” the prince replied in an understanding tone. “The nature of battle can lead to separation,” he continued, and Kasumi could hear an all too clear melancholy in those words. “What’s important is you’re alright.” Caeda nodded in agreement, and Kasumi allowed herself a small smile in return.

“We also heard from Lady Lyndis of your help in the battle,” Caeda added, and at the familiar name Kasumi’s eyes widened with sudden worry. “She’s fine, as are the others in her group- your healing aided them with avoiding serious injuries.” The words of praise made Kasumi relax just a bit.

But she was by far most relaxed when the Altean couple had led the way back- somehow the nervousness about returning to Askr faded away in that moment, her only desire to see everyone again.

The light was bright from the portal, and it made her think of another time. When the light cleared, he’d be standing there- her lord, complete with his dazzlingly groomed white hair and a relaxed smile. At the opposite side from where she would stand was the grinning dojo head, fluffy brown hair and sharp toothed smile as bright as morning light. Kasumi raised a hand to her brow as the light grew, and those familiar images faded- she knew in that instant that they would not await her when the light cleared.

What did await, she ran towards with tears in her eyes. They had all gathered, it seemed. The purple haired assassin had an indifferent look on her face, but she stood far too readily and smiled just enough to not mask a positive feeling. The ninja opposite her as well, despite his usual calmness, did not even try to hide the light in his eyes. Even the hooded dragon seemed to tilt her head curiously, her eyes shining just a bit more lively. The mage at her side pulled at the hem of her cloak, unlike the others fully displaying her feelings as she ran forward to meet Kasumi, throwing her arms around the healer’s waist.

When the tears had cleared once more, she could see all their faces around her- the people she had grown to care so much for, here in this new world. And two sets of hands at her back as well- two smiles, both beautiful and calming. Laegjarn’s expression was of overwhelming relief, the kind look in her eyes bringing even more tears to Kasumi. Hrid had melted just slightly from his serious look, instead closing his eyes as his arm reached Kasumi’s shoulder, giving a squeeze as if to confirm she was real.

At her back, a small hand tugged at her cloak, and the Delthea from that world squeezed her way to Kasumi’s side. Her eyes were still emotionless, but her hands gripped the healer’s coat tightly, cold body pressed to Kasumi’s side.

The feeling from those surrounding her was an overwhelming warmth, and one Kasumi would not forget for a long time.

Chapter Text

Time had passed swiftly as the last chills of winter dissipated, heralding the arrival of spring. The only place that severe coldness remained, perhaps, was in the expression of the healer. It concerned Laegjarn to see Kasumi like this, her eyes burdened with some inner torment no matter how hard she tried to smile cheerfully. The Muspell general was not unversed in hiding emotions, and it was all too clear that this was what her trusted comrade was doing.

In truth, it seemed to be worrying the entire small group. They all tried their best to hide it, but it was apparent on their faces. Any mention of Kasumi would dim the spark in their eyes with a somber air, as if worried about the state of the healer. She herself was with them less and less, and though Ursula had reported her to have been sleeping in the stable with her mount, Zitronnen, it still brought a cloud of worry over the whole group. What could have happened to Kasumi specifically- what could have brought about this sadness and worry?

Part of it Laegjarn could understand, from what she had learned of Kasumi’s past and the lord she cared about and was unable to save the life of. That sort of thing had never been anything to trouble her- her only lord was King Surtr, her father, the unquenchable flame that would ruthlessly strike her down far before he himself was killed. Everything was to protect the life of Laevatein, her sister- but the two of them were on more equal footing than Kasumi and her lord. But she understood that desperate feeling and wanting to do anything to save the life of another. And it crossed her mind that perhaps Laevatein had felt the same hopelessness as Kasumi, during that period of time when her life had faded.

But if this did play a role in Kasumi’s struggles, it was not the only thing. Something recently must have instigated it. Kasumi was not the sort of person to get worried over nothing, after all. And to let the others know and see her like this without trying to hide it, it must be something very bad.

She sought answers first, as suggested by Delthea, with the man from the same world as Kasumi. But when Kaze had had nothing more to share, he joined them in asking the others from his and Kasumi’s world- though in his timeline he was not close to Kasumi, perhaps there was another that had been. But no matter who they went to, Nohrian or Hoshidan, royalty or retainer, no one knew anything more on the history or troubles of the Izumo living healer. Even when they asked the dojo head who had once served under the same lord, he only fell silent, the bushy brown hair hiding one eye but not the resigned and mournful look on his face.

Weeks turned to months, and the life of those conscripted to the Order of Heroes went on- the warriors were eventually ordered to head to the battle their leaders sought in the Realm of the Dead. Kasumi was among them.

It did put Laegjarn at some ease to know that she at least wouldn’t be alone- Hrid and Kaze were also to play a role in the advancing battles. But that was only a slight relief- Kasumi’s distraught state had barely changed over the months. Of course, Laegjarn and the others had done everything they could think of to be there for their friend and comrade, and it was not as if Kasumi was not grateful for it, but even her relieved smiles and kind looks had something cold and hurt still behind them.

Perhaps that last look the troubadour gave her still haunted her, as Laegjarn found herself unable to sit still in the castle fortress of the Order after the advancing army had left. Her feet and heart drew her away from any staircase she knew would pass the barracks of their group- seeing it like that, with the worry for Kasumi already eating at her, would only make things worse. She could not afford it- would not let herself break down as well. She was someone who had once been a general of the cruel and merciless Kingdom of Flame- she could at the very least try to uphold that for the sake of the others. After all, she thought with perhaps a bit of wistfulness, it was not as if she was anywhere as kind or strong as those royal children who led the Order. She could never be like them.

The sights had changed as Laegjarn left the castle, but she hardly noticed it. Any rational thoughts had been put aside with the emotions she struggled to hide around the others- the worries a general and strategist should not have. But here, the others were nowhere to be seen.

Why was she brought back? She had chosen to die, after all- she would gladly do so if it meant the safety of Laevetain. The others hadn’t made that choice- their lives had been ripped from them forcibly. All her elder siblings, all the people in Muspell and Nifl, even the queen and eldest heir of the latter, and the younger sibling of her fellow general- they had done nothing to deserve their deaths.

And what good was she now? There were others- many others, stronger and braver and kinder than herself- ones who would surely be able to help Kasumi had their positions been reversed. The commanding officers of the Order most of all- they were always spoken of by everyone save the Summoner with such reverence and respect, they must be worthy of it. Compared to them, she was nothing. She was used to such harsh thoughts, but somehow they cut deeper now.

When she looked up, there was a sight that somehow put the worries aside like a shocking gust of winter air. A ways away, just barely visible in the morning fog, was a figure. Red hair billowed loosely, but it was not in a familiar shape of any of the Order’s occupants. The figure’s clothing as well was a shocking white, unlike anything Laegjarn had seen worn by the Order. And yet, there was something familiar about the gold trim…

She could hear soft footsteps behind her, and by the sound the identity of their owner was no surprise. However, why and how her younger sister had followed her here was.

“Laegjarn.” The younger swordswoman’s reply was curt as always, but she stayed close to her elder sister, hand already clenched around the hilt of her blade that shared her name. “You left the castle, and I followed.”
Somehow the company made something in Laegjarn’s heart relax, and she felt a smile cross her face- a feeling that was most welcome. “Thank you, Laevetain.” It took only a nod, and somehow the feeling seemed nostalgic of the days the two had served under the banner of Muspell. In cautious synchronicity the two advanced through the mist in the direction of the redhead.

“Such caution. Of course, as to be expected of Muspell generals.” His voice was clear and cool, sounding rational and unfazed. There was a smile on his lips as red eyes looked the duo over, but it seemed more out of politeness than any genuine happiness or even amusement. Something about him seemed to radiate an urge for caution, but there was also an impression of resonating mourning- a feeling that Laegjarn was taken slightly by surprise.
She echoed the politeness in her reply, as she and her sister stopped their advance. “Former Muspell generals, excuse us.” She bowed her head slightly at the stranger, but before she could continue with her question, he answered it.

“How did I know? Well, if not for the emblems on your armor, the advancing techniques make it all too clear. Though there is some change, most of your strategic technique resembles that practiced for thousands of years.” He tilted his head, red asymmetrical bangs falling as his lips curved into a thoughtful look. “Judging by your headresses, I would guess that both of you are of the Muspell dragon’s royal blood… forgive me, I have hardly had reason to keep up with the recent bloodline past the first century.” His words seemed disinterested, but gesture seemed to impatiently suggest Laegjarn to speak.

Laevetain gripped the sword and looked up at her sister, who could see the start of annoyance in her eyes. But she only shook her head- so far, this stranger was not a threat- and now they had no reason to cut him down.
“I am Laegjarn, and this is Laevetain.” Her words were clear and serious, but they were met only by silence. “And…” The man barely moved, as if only now registering that his own introduction was necessary.

“Red Priest- second Red Priest of Askr. Not that it means anything to this kingdom anymore. I guess ‘Arle’ will suffice.” His tone was striking- pride and respect, followed by bitterness, then ending with a dry disinterest. The title somehow explained his appearance, from the long red hair to the priestly robes reminiscent of Askran royal uniforms.

“Sir Arle,” Laegjarn repeated, more out of politeness and loss for words than anything. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He only waved a hand in response with the same disinterest.

“Yeah, I suppose same for me. At least I know something more about modern Muspell strategy now- even if it is kinda boring.” Laegjarn tried not to take the harsh words to heart.

But Laevetain acted quicker, instantly drawing her sword to the side of Arle’s throat. Her eyes fixed on the taller priest before Laegjarn could say or do anything in response, and the younger general’s expression was unmoving even if she had.

“Take that back. Whoever you are, I will not have you insult my sister.” Her words were as serious as always, but there was a spark of rage in her eyes. And as Laegjarn looked at her, the feeling in her gut seemed to only get heavier. It was not directed at Laevetain but rather herself.

Arle seemed surprisingly unresponsive, even with the sword pointed at his neck. He only adjusted his long red hair slightly, glancing at the curved blade before back at the duo.

“I take back what I said. My intention was never to insult your sister.” His voice was still the same unreadable tone, but there was nothing mocking nor scared about it- it did sound genuine, enough for Laevetain to slowly lower the sword, though the daggers in her glare were still fixed on Arle.
“And your sword is most fascinating to view up close. I must honestly detract my statement entirely. This has been a bit interesting.”

He turned to leave, white coat swishing in the slight breeze, and Laegjarn’s voice surprised herself.

“Wait.” Why had she called out- what could he possibly know that could help her? But at the same time, she could not stop herself from asking. It may be her only chance, the mysterious priest could have some information about a way to help Kasumi. He seemed to have knowledge of the Order, and in all honesty, seemed to know even more than that.

Arle stopped, not even looking behind him. “If you seek answers, I suggest that you investigate the Askran beaches. As the seasons change, an opportunity should present itself.” And with that, the mysterious priest, his white coat and red hair as well, vanished into the misty Askran morning.

Behind the Muspell duo, the sharp eyes of an assassin had seen it all. So the beaches were where some secrets could lie. Even besides her value of perfection, the Blue Crow had hardly been able to accept it- that powerless feeling that haunted her since the day Kasumi had confided in her. Well, no matter. It seemed the new mission had presented it to herself- what with the priest, Arle, speaking in a voice just loud enough to be heard from her distance. He was another point of inquiry, but her investigation of the Askran priest would have to wait- after all, this promising source for helping improve Kasumi’s life was much more important than ending the odd man’s.

Chapter Text

1. Clarisse
It was just like before. She could feel the warmth of blood pooling around her, doubtless from the sword wound. How was she to have known that damn enemy could counter her arrows like that? The others were too far away to help, that was certain, and even if they weren’t there were much too many surviving enemies still out for blood. No, she was a goner this time. But unlike that time so long ago, there was no one else around- she was truly alone.

The Archanean assassins had arrived in the service of the Order, one after another- herself and Legion first, and many months later Reese- or rather Katarina, as she called herself now. Not that Clarisse cared anything of her- there was nothing between them, silly promises they made as children aside. She’d said that countless times, and thought it countless more, but now she couldn’t bring herself to even picture the older girl’s face. She was almost grateful for the blood at her face, for it was not just that blood that stained the edges of her eyes now.

At last she felt her eyes droop, what little strength she had left in her fingers fading more and more, despite how she clutched at the bow in her hands. Well, at least now she’d be free of that silly contract….

“Hey, can you hear me?”
She could feel it, somewhere, numbly spreading through her entire battered body- the unmistakable healing magic. Was it really- had she- had she taken pity on her own miserable failures? Was she given a second chance?
It wasn’t like her hopes were that high, but when she opened her eyes what little she had was crushed. The woman in front of her could not be any less familiar- she looked puny and weak, and that look she had reminded Clarisse of Reese- far too much for her liking. But she barely had the strength to grunt in displeasure, much less wrinkle her nose at the healer.
But whatever she had done seemed to have caught her interest, as the healer’s face changed to concern- again, such a sickening look. “Oh no, you look even worse. Did the wound open up again?”
Clarisse ignored the worried chatter- she felt too exhausted to chase the woman away, but her eyes had the strength to scan their surroundings- the same battlefield as before, but too quiet to be the midst of a battle. “We’re still here…?” She wondered aloud, mostly to herself. But the annoying healer had heard, and replied with that same uncertain tone.
“W-well, yes! But don’t worry, the fighting is over. The others were able to take care of our remaining enemies, and someone said you went in this direction when I arrived with the reinforcements, so-” Her explanation suddenly stopped, and her eyes clouded with something Clarisse couldn’t quite pin down. When she did continue it was in a softer tone. “I’m just glad I wasn’t too late.” Somehow even the harsh sniper couldn’t think of an annoyed response.
It was quiet for a moment, and maybe, just maybe, Clarisse didn’t quite hate this. The healer’s magic was still gently but steadily healing her, and even the pain from earlier bruises and scrapes seemed to be dissipating. It was relaxing- almost.
“Ah- I’m sorry for my rudeness.” The healer’s voice shattered the silence, but somehow Clarisse found her tone less annoying than initially- just a tiny bit less. “I’m Kasumi of Izumo, just another employed by the Order of Heroes. Your name is Clarisse, is it not?” The sniper mustered the strength to nod her head an inch, almost grateful an introduction wasn’t necessary.
They spoke for a while longer- or mostly Kasumi did- of the results of the battle (a closely won victory, and her talk of Clarisse’s own efforts being a key in gaining it did make her chest puff weakly with pride), of the current activities of the Order (at which subject Kasumi’s disinterested tone happened to catch the archer’s interest- she’d have guessed a cheerful goody-two-shoes like this healer would be all peachy with them), and on whatever else came to mind for Kasumi. It may have been, under any other circumstances, an infuriating and terribly boring conversation, but at the moment Clarisse could still feel her bones and wounds healing, and it allowed for that necessary time for her to recover.
When at last she could stand, she did, stretching as much as she could without feeling a jolt of pain return. It would surely still take some time to recover completely, but even she had to admit it was better than the alternative- she didn’t dare look back at that expansive bloodstain on the ground where she had lain.
Kasumi seemed to struggle to her feet after her, and for a brief moment the thought of the danger a healer faced flashed through the assassin’s mind. Her hand reached out before she could stop herself, and she was filled with horror as Kasumi took it, steadying herself on her feet.
At least it was brief, as Kasumi let go, letting Clarisse return to crossing her arms- no way was she letting herself try something so ridiculous again. No, she’d be safe- not even take a glance at that weirdo healer.
“Let’s… keep that between us…” Kasumi’s voice was quiet, and was that embarassment she heard as well? It sparked the sniper’s curiosity, but she stopped herself (barely) from looking back at the healer. “I’ve been such a burden lately…. but I want to figure it out on my own.” There was something once more unplaceable in her tone, and this time Clarisse couldn’t help but turn. Kasumi looked as flimsy and weak as before, sure, but something in her eyes was the farthest from that- it was a look of pain and sympathy, but also unwavering determination and resolve.
For a moment Clarisse was lost for words. But she found them soon enough, giving a nod as a smirk crossed her lips. “Sure. But you owe me for it.” Something in her felt just a bit more relaxed. “Guess that makes us even now.”

2. Kronya
The imposing figure cut a remarkable silhouette against the sunset-lit windows of the concert hall. The dusky sun seemed to compliment the dragon god’s eyes, which stared at Kasumi, stern and unwavering. It was a while until she found her voice to reply.
“…Lord Duma!” ‘Lord’, was that proper? He was, after all, considered a god in Valentia- or so she’d heard from the others. Maybe she should bow too, just to be sure? To say she wasn’t worried would be a lie- sure, there were deities among the heroes contracted to the Order, but it wasn’t as if seeing them was a day-to-day occurrence. And besides, she’d heard bits and pieces about the Valentian dragons in particular- enough to not ever want to mess with them.
“Child of a foreign land. There is no need to grovel.” The rumbling greeting was surprisingly- not as damning as she expected? Perhaps her reply had not been as rude as she feared, for the imposing dragon held out a hand to stop her. “You have done a service to those who bear my nation’s inheritance,” he continued, but now it was a new feeling of shock that twisted at Kasumi’s gut. What could that mean? ‘Inheritance’? ‘Service’? What service? She had no idea, but the feeling of apprehension only escalated more and more every second.
It grew to a peak as the dragon god’s hand shifted, from a halting motion to an extended and offering one. And then, as if the windows behind them had instantly exploded in light, everything was lost from view.

Duma had seen many things in his long existence, and in truth, the odd reactions of the one-time guard to his country’s heirs were worth no more surprise than a raised eyebrow. But still the scene unfolded, and the reaction was appropriate. The mortal’s reaction initially was nothing more or less than he would expect from an average one, but as soon as he had extended his hand the change in behaviors became clear. The woman’s face blanched in an instant, dark eyes clouding over, as if she was no longer in this world. She remained that way for no longer than a moment, but just as soon as the look appeared it vanished, leaving only her eyes full of terror and a terribly shocked look on her face.
Duma did not expect a reply, but the response was intriguing, if only a bit. Perhaps the rumors of this mortal- this “Hero” being touched by an unknown power were true. The thought was all that remained, however, as the one that it regarded had hastily made her way somewhere else. It was not out of fear of himself, but something else- a drive of some kind.

In retrospect Kasumi felt a little bad for the dragon god and her regretful behavior- he didn’t deserve that ridiculous horrorstruck look she had surely given him- after all, he was not the one it was directed at. But who it was, she could not say. In the burst of light, she saw something- a hand extended, cruelly, and something else- she could not remember it with any clarity, but it made her heart heavy to even think of it. It was a fear of death- of someone’s cruel demise, that she could be certain.
The Summoner had reached an accord with some new Hero, she had heard, and was currently escorting them to the castle from the battlegrounds they had met as enemies. Lately such procedures interested Kasumi very little, but she still found herself heading in that direction. Something in her chest felt tight, a sort of apprehensive dread- but considering how her mood had tended lately it was little surprise.
What was surprising, however, was the face that awaited her beside the Summoner- one she recognized not from a smile, but a twisted and pained look of death.

3. The Blue Crow’s Plan
The knife was carefully aimed, but it did not seem like the sort meant for throwing, as with the sacrifice of an albeit nearly worn-out tome, Ursula ceased its trajectory with ease. No doubt there was one nearby who had thrown it. Well, she had always suspected that there was at least a few in this Order organization that must not be too loyal to the Summoner, despite the contracts that bound them all. But in this case, their target was not that person.

Kasumi continued her walk to the stables, completely oblivious to what had just occurred in her vicinity. She stopped, as if noticing something, but Ursula was far too skilled in stealth to let herself be detected, and after a moment the healer shrugged it off, continuing to the stables.
Once the door was closed with Kasumi inside, too far away to hear or take any note, Ursula turned her gaze sternly to the direction the dagger had come from. If its wielder would not make themselves known, she could still easily eliminate them. But that was not the case, as the still unfamiliar face of the red haired woman came into view, the shadows obscuring her from the small grove of trees slowly fading to the midday sun.
“You.” The woman’s voice was slow and deliberate, dripping with scorn. “Why’d you get in the way of my target?”
Ursula tossed the now useless tome aside, dagger still embedded within it, instead opening her usual one. Even in the daylight, her face was obscured by the magic emanating from it, as well as the shade of the smattering of trees she stood beneath. “What business do you have with ending her life?” Her own voice was calculated, but the days she would have proceeded by slinging spells before hearing the assassin’s reasons were past.
The woman- Kronya, she thought was her name- scoffed, glancing at the stable with a look of disgust before her eyes drifted away. “Like I should answer you.” It did not change Ursula’s stance, however, and something told the Blue Crow that it may not be long before her latest prey relented.
Finally, the Fodlan assassin sighed, crossing her arms. “I don’t need a reason to want to kill any of you pathetic Hero scum, but…. her in particular. Always standing in front of my kills. Always asking how I am, if I’m not hurt.” Ursula studied the woman’s face- that frustrated look would otherwise have been delightful to see on an opponent, but there was something familiar about it. “And that look… just that look makes me want to cut out that worm’s eyes!” She gripped the dagger in her hands tightly, and Ursula felt her own spell hand twitch- why, she dared not ponder. Something like friendship- she’d told Kasumi before that she had no interest in it, and the healer had been fine with her answer. And that was how it should stay.
Something was bothering Kasumi, that much was sure- something serious. But Kasumi was not the only one bothered- not just within their little usual group, and not within the Order as a whole. No matter how alone that healer may think she stood, she was not the only one in unrest within the Order.
As she thought on it, the silence was broken by Kronya’s sigh- a defeated and frustrated tone. “Not that there’s anything I can do about it now, thanks to someone.” Her tone was biting at Ursula, but the assassin barely noticed. “Guess I’ll have to wait for another chance.”
A smile crossed the shadowed face of the Blue Crow, the spark of an idea. Maybe the chance that Kronya desired would arrive sooner than she thought.

4. Kaze the Negotiator
He should be dead- he’d always been sure of that. Yet here he was: Kaze, the ninja of Hoshido, brother to Saizo the Fifth and most regrettably the one who had caused the death of the Hoshidan king due to his inaction. But he was not any of that now- he was many things he would have never considered in that life he lived before. He was one who lent an ear and his daggers in the service of crown royalty, and despite their status was always treated with kindness and respect. He was someone who was a friend- a trusted comrade.
And now he stood in the dimly lit room, back to the door, as the three female assassins stared down each other with looks that could kill.
Sure, as a ninja, he had experience in espionage, and would, if the circumstances forced him to, take a life without hesitation. But for him, it was something he was still inexperienced in, and weighed heavy on his mind, even if he did not- could not show it. It was not self-imposed virtue that made him different from Ursula and the others, but rather skill. He was nowhere near the same person as one of the elite assassins who had threatened an entire continent from the shadows. Nor did he wish to be. But that was his path and Ursula’s paths, and the more time he spent around Kasumi and the others, the more he was sure in the conviction that neither way was right or wrong, but simply their own paths.
“I’ll just go… watch the door.” His voice was undertone, but cut through the silence unhindered. Even when he exited the door, it was clear that none of the other three were going to budge an inch.

Watching the door, Kaze soon found, was a much more engrossing task than he had at first guessed. Almost as soon as he had assumed the post, a passing group of heroes had led to a discussion with the Order’s royal commanders on the conversation behind the door, as well as its occupants. He did have to concede that Ursula, when she had first told him of the purpose of that day’s meeting, had made a very good point- the skills of those meant to serve from the shadows are quite different, if not openly opposite, the goals and skills of many of the Order’s other occupants. There were those among their number- children who hadn’t yet dirtied their hands with the blood of others- and should never have to, he thought.
So with that feeling cemented in his thoughts, he continued the conversation- as heated and strained as it got- until the four, even the Summoner, whose eyes had wandered the whole time in a certain unplaceable manner, clearly troubled by more things than he’d ever care to let on.
He felt a twinge of empathy at the back of the departing Summoner from another world, but the white coated young man soon disappeared from view, and his attention was also turned- this time to the sound of the door finally opening. Into the midday sun- the ghastly light of day- stepped the Blue Crow herself. Her expression was an uncommonly serene one, and her eyes met Kaze decisively with a nod.

“Keeping guard?” She gave something like the start of a chuckle. “Acceptable. It would have gone much less smoothly had we been interrupted.” Kaze’s eyes showed no sign of changing despite a slight movement scanning the doorway, but she could not help but find his tightening grip on the dagger amusing- no doubt spurned by his noticing.
“Oh, are you concerned?” He was a ninja- a master of stealth and espionage in his own right, and never shirked from that, but his steadfast morals always amused her. How he could have so much compassion towards others despite the occupation that they shared- if nothing else it was an amusing notion.
She gave another small chuckle before replying, wondering idly how long she could sustain this tension for. ” You needn’t be. We have… come to an agreement, after all.” His brow twitched, shoulders stiffening in a defensive pose.
And as if to reinforce that, the other two assassins stepped out of the dark room after her.
“Ugh, back to spending more time with those annoying Heroes.” Kronya’s voice was sarcastic, but clearly relieved of some of the uneasy tension from earlier. Even her posture was more relaxed as she boredly played with the hilt of her knife. “Now, that fight you mentioned, on the other hand-” she added, a sadistic glint in her visible eye as she glanced to Ursula, at which the assassin just gave a knowing smile and wink.
“What about you, Clarisse? You’ve been awfully quiet.” Ursula’s voice was soft towards the sniper, but with a knowing shadow to it. The blonde archer gripped her bow at the greeting, eyes widening slightly before returning to her usual indifferent look.
“N-not that I care, but…” She trailed off, adjusting her hold on the bow before one hand slipped through a stray lock of hair in a way that exposed any feelings she had tried to hide in silence. Her composure had changed as well- like Kronya she had relaxed, with something else a bit less like a hardened assassin and more like any other young person happy to have company. “…It’ll be nice working with you… I guess.” Her voice was quiet and reluctant, but with an unmistakably genuine tone.
Ursula smiled, giving a small but decisive nod. “Then it’s settled. We’ll meet at the next battle. I must admit, it is nice to be in the company of such…. individuals with shared talents.” Her eyes scanned over the two she had been talking with previously- convincing them had been easier than it seemed. Kronya may be impulsive, but she was honest with her desires to the point of being too transparent in them- perhaps in exchange for her evident talent in disguises. Clarisse was almost the opposite, clearly still struggling with acknowledging her own feelings and desires. But the stress and turmoil from this somehow came out in her skill with the bow- a deadly and vindictive arrow that never failed to torment its target. They would certainly be interesting to work with in the upcoming battle.
Her eyes met Kaze once more, the other two dissipating to return to whatever tasks they had been doing prior- she was not as foolish enough to think them all ‘friends’ as some of the Heroes did, nor would she ever want to be that foolish. “Of course, including you as well.”
This time, the ninja was not able to hide surprise from his face, and gave a clearly surprised look. In response Ursula simply continued, secretly enjoying the shocked look that had graced his face. “Yes, of course. We already have experience fighting together often, do we not?”
“Besides, despite our differences, there is much benefit from your stealth.” Even despite the enjoyment she gained from the ninja’s reactions to her words and teasing, there was something comfortable about talking with him-perhaps it was the close company that they both kept with the rest of the group sharing that area of the barracks- despite the overflowing dissimilarities within them, there was something they seemed to all share when together. And despite her value of perfection- the perfection Lady Sonia exemplified- there was something Ursula had come to value from Kasumi and the others as well.
She turned to leave, but Kaze’s voice stopped her. “Ursula- I must apologize.”
“Why for?” She turned over her shoulder, a cruelly teasing look in her eyes- one less like a crow and more like a cat about to pounce at any moment. “Are you going to confess that someone was actually eavesdropping on our earlier meeting?”
He shook his head hastily. “No, nothing of the sort.” The comment, though spoken teasingly, was not without merit- there had been quite a bit of such as of late, after all. “I wanted to apologize for my mistrust of you. Even though we have been acquainted for quite some time, I still often feel wary around you.” He spoke it honestly, but with a twinge of regret- as if these facts somehow caused him pain. “Despite that you have given no reasons-“
Ursula moved swiftly but smoothly, tilting the ninja’s chin up with the spine of her tome. “I am the Black Fang’s elite.” The old title, though one that had little meaning in this world, somehow sparked an old exhilarating feeling in her chest. “You should do well to remember that that is more than enough reason.” His breath had stopped- poor man, she thought with a smirk, pulling the tome away as she folded her arms. Teasing anyone within the group was always a pleasure, but to do so to one of the most composed was a special treat she intended to savor.

“In short, don’t worry on it, Kaze.” The ninja looked up, his stance resumed immediately- he had trained his whole life, even such an unexpected advance could only faze him for a moment (though, he was glad it was not on the battlefield all the same). The assassin continued, the same cold glint in her eyes. “A lack of trust is the opposite of a weakness.”
Even as the assassin left, he could not help feeling something a bit warm. She said she did not trust them, nor care at all- he did not doubt the cold and hardened perspective of an assassin- but there were plenty of others in the Order that would make powerful allies. She could have approached any of them, even her former allies within the Elibean Black Fang. However, the ones that had been in the meeting before were different- perhaps a bit like he had been when he first arrived in Askr. There was nothing he knew of this world, and nothing left for him in his former one- and somehow meeting Kasumi and the others had changed that, it had given him the future he had never been able to see before.
Perhaps an assassin could not trust easily or at all, but he would, if he had not also been one, be inclined to call that notion by that name.

Chapter Text

The group had barely rested for long, even after the last of the generals’ demise. The words of their commanding ruler were to press forward, so press forward they did. And with every step, Kasumi felt her body clench more and more- not from any outward influence but something much more important within.

Whenever the rulers spoke she felt her fists ball once more. Did they know how many had been sacrificed and were being sacrificed for them? For their goal of killing and death to any who would get in their way? They had all claimed to want peace, but jumped at the moment’s opportunity to kill or invade. Was it for glory? For revenge? She did not know, nor wished to. She’d never had to know this feeling before, back in Izumo.

But that was then, and now was now. No matter what they learned of the personal horrors committed by the ruler of this land, it was no excuse to just mindlessly crave bloodshed. She could not stand by without saying anything any longer, and for the first time, began to clear her throat to address the royal trio, whose backs were facing her.

All that came of her voice was a surprised sound; a hand cooly and deliberately placed on hers made any resolve of words fade away to a squeak. The owner of that hand smirked at her, but Loki’s eyes were knowing- as if she could tell exactly what Kasumi was going to say.

“Oh look, dear!” Loki’s voice was sweet, but Kasumi had known her enough to know that something unknown and deadly lurked within the sweetness as well. “Your wrist… I’ll heal it right away, sweetie.” Even through her gloves she could feel Loki’s grip become vice-like and unmoving, stopping any attempts she would have even thought about making to speak her words from before.

“But that won’t do either. You’re all worn out from your injury, too.” Her expression looked a sympathetic pout, but the wink she quickly gave Kasumi let on her true intent. “Would you three be dears and let us rest for this one?” She turned around with a coy smile, but the three she was addressing were nowhere to be seen- only the army of heroes behind them, which was already at its tail end.

“They didn’t seem to have a problem,” replied one dagger user with a shrug- Kasumi had barely seen him around but something told her his name was Matthew. “And you’re hurt, so you’d better rest anyways. We’ll make do somehow!” His voice was laidback but confident, and even though the sympathy was for Loki’s ploy, it still set something in Kasumi a bit more at ease.

That had been before the final battle. With some luck none of her close companions were the ones who were called away to fight in the depths of Hel, so Kasumi remained at Loki’s side as the sorceress scrutinized her- looking for injuries, she would say, but there was something uncanny about her look. However, it had been barely a moment before a few of the other remaining healers had arrived, distancing Kasumi from the former Muspell general, and it was only at that point Kasumi felt as if she could breathe again.

She made small talk with the healers, they were always sociable and kind when their paths happened to cross. The pink haired Elibean cleric she had barely seen before, but she spoke with such confidence despite her whimsical requests that Kasumi couldn’t help but smile. The Nohrian queen also gave a soft chuckle, and Kasumi could not help wondering if even in her world they could have become friends- Lady Camilla, no matter her garb and position, had always been respectful and even kind, and the regal one that had joined recently was no exception.

But any wistful thoughts that had clouded the healer’s feelings were blown to the side by the arrival of her friends- at the first sound of Delthea’s voice calling her name she felt her thoughts become alert, instantly running to hug the little mage as soon as she bounded out of the fog with a cheerful greeting. The others followed close behind, guarded and alert in posture but with relieved looks on their faces to finally have some reassurance as to the safety of all of their number.

After Delthea was Idunn, her cloaked figure cutting through the mist as she walked steadily forward, only her eyes moving unwaveringly about the group. But her multicolored gaze rested on Kasumi, and she gave a slight nod, as if letting the others know, in her way, that for now they were all back together. And with that nod, Kasumi felt the nerves start to settle in her chest as her hands finally unclenched.

“You’re looking… not as bad as I expected,” Ursula greeted coolly with a hand to Kasumi’s shoulder, but her voice had a more rounded sound to it, matching the almost comforting touch. It was one Kasumi felt herself leaning into, the smile on her face was surely as imperfect as always but now, she didn’t care- just that Ursula and the others were safe.

Kaze followed at the outskirts of the small group, as if making sure they were all there safely, but met Kasumi’s eyes with a curt and polite nod. The healer returned the gesture, but neither of them could hide the smiles on their faces.

Hrid’s eyes also scanned the group as he walked, horse’s reins in his hand. With the other he gave a wave to Kasumi, stern gaze softening in an instant. “You’re alright…” He sighed, and as Kasumi returned the wave with a smile and a light feeling in her chest, but concern tinged it when she registered the look on the Nifl prince’s face- she knew that distant and uncertain grieving look far too well.

“Kasumi!” Laegjarn dismounted her wyvern as soon as its claws had touched the ground, rushing to Kasumi’s side, and as Ursula stepped back her gauntleted hands soon found their way to Kasumi’s shoulders. At the touch Kasumi felt her heart jump, the weight of her troubles melting into a soft comfort. “Thank goodness…. I was worried they had called you to fight.”

Kasumi stopped mid-nod, the last bit of Laegjarn’s words recalling the uneasy memory of the prior events. “They did, but-” She scanned the crowd of gathered Heroes until she saw the top of the Muspell tactician’s hat. And it was the unease of a year that bubbled from her chest, floating her voice to call out to the mysterious and dangerous tactician.

“Oh, Loki?” The scheming strategist turned, intrigued by the call from Kasumi. But despite her poise, something about Kasumi’s expression fazed her, if only for a moment. Her eyes were serious and determined. It wasn’t like they had been when she stopped Kasumi from confronting the commanding royals- in that moment there was rage and built up resentment, but now that burning anger had cooled to something far more thought out.

The mystery of it was almost too much- yet it was the most tantalizing thing about Kasumi, and the staff user leaned in with a deliberately fake smile. “Yes, darling?”

“Just what are you up to?” Her friends crowded at her side, but they did not seem to want to stop Kasumi- if anything the steadiness and calmness of her words seemed to settle them in their own anxiousness. Perhaps they had become too used to their leaders’ self interested rashness, Loki wondered. Kasumi was not without her faults, but she was also quite different than those royal children who had caused so much death and suffering as of late.

“If you hadn’t stopped me before, the worst that would have happened is the Askran rulers would distrust or dislike me. I wasn’t injured in the slightest- er, physically that is, nor were you even around before. There’s a reason you need them to not worry regarding me, isn’t there?”

For a moment Loki was silent, in contemplating thought it seemed. Laegjarn knew that look too well. It was the look she had when pondering how to next toy with her conversation partner, and she and Laevetain had been on the receiving end of it more times than she could count. Her hand instinctively gripped Niu at her waist, the other hand stiffening at Kasumi’s shoulder, as if ready to push her back and away from any danger at a moment’s notice. Of course, the sort of danger Loki presented wasn’t that that could be protected with a sword or even a body to shield.

“You really are clever, dear. Maybe too much so- you haven’t the protection of a god like that Askran priest.” She chuckled, eyes wandering in particular to Hrid and then Laegjarn, stare piercing and knowing in a way that made the flame commander’s blood run cold. “I will ask you this much- of all the worlds that are, that could-have and would-have been, why do you suppose it was that of the Realm of the Dead that our little Order faced?”

Kasumi froze up. “Wh-what do you mean?” But her nervous tone betrayed her thoughts, and Loki could tell that all too well.

She gave another laugh, quiet but deliberate. “Besides the ones our darling Majesties have slain there’s many more that have died. An older brother trying desperately to save his darling sister,” she paused, locking eyes with Delthea, who bared her teeth angrily despite the tears starting at her eyes. “Or a king who sacrificed himself for his people- people who were insufficient to prevent his demise.” Kaze’s eyes could not stay meeting Loki’s for long, but when his gaze returned it was accompanied by a drawn dagger. “I do believe quite a few faces here would be familiar to the ranks of the dead.” By now most everyone had at least joined Laegjarn’s ready pose, eyes trained on Loki as she carefully but confidently approached the now defensive group.

“So? We all are familiar with that.” Kasumi’s tone was as defensive as her friends’ stances, as if her words would protect them from Loki’s.

“You evidently are,” she replied without missing a beat. “But I ask you again, clever little Kasumi- why do you suppose the path of the realm of Askr crossed with that of the realm of Hel?” She smirked, eyes somewhere far off, as if she was imagining their commanders- or if she could see them all too clearly. “No doubt any realm that enticed battle would have earned the ire of the Order- righteous and just wrath, I’m assured.”

Kasumi could not even notice Loki approaching her, her thoughts were still struggling over the meaning of Loki’s honeyed words- the meaning that loomed like a menacing shadow. “No, it was not for any of their sake that we encountered Hel- it was for yours.”

“Do tell me, did you ever wish to see that person again?” The Archduke. She could not help the image of that cheerful smile as it appeared in her head. “Did you ever wish to return to that life in which you were so comfortable? To be wanted, to be accepted?” It was as if the images-no, memories- were becoming clearer- Chihaya was there too, and both her dear friends smiled so kindly, so invitingly. “To delight in your own talents?” With every word, Kasumi could hear her own ringing in her head, and her hands slowly raised to the sides of her head, as if to drown the sound out. “And did you ever consider a price to it?”

It was as if everything shattered in an instant- memories of everything from the last year washed over her like a wave. Going to hatsumode with Laegjarn and Hrid, being comforted by Kaze and Ursula, meeting Delthea in that odd other world and the ethereal events that transpired there. Her meetings with Kronya and Clarisse, the odd friendship with that mounted reaper, the feverish summer with Ursula and Laegjarn- all of it was both drowning and shattering in an instant. Her legs gave out, and her voice too- and all she could do was scream in a crying shout.

“Kasumi!” Everyone’s voices sounded, not in perfect unison of timing, but completely unified in emotion. Delthea followed Kasumi, studying her face for a moment before turning her glare towards Loki. Kaze also moved at lightning speed to Kasumi’s side, hand steady at her back for support. Ursula’s crouch was more modified, but her posture was forward, as if to shield Kasumi and the others with her now fully open tome. At the other side Idunn took a step forward, eyes still unwavering but perfectly trained on Loki.

Hrid was about to join the assassin, when Laegjarn moved at an almost invisible speed- directly towards Loki. He didn’t even have time to call out her name before the general acted. Niu was embedded into the wall inches from Loki’s throat, on the other side of which was Laegjarn’s hand, gauntlet curled into a powerful and unmoving fist.

“Loki.” The crown princess of Muspell’s voice was low and soft, but Hrid was sure of the anger in it as well. “I may accept your own teasing and manipulation when it is directed at me. But I will not allow you to harm Kasumi. Not ever again.”

“Harm?” Loki’s voice was still smooth despite her proximity to the blade, but Hrid felt as if there was something just a bit more nervous in her tone. “I merely was granting the child’s wish. I’m sure you have questions as well, General, as to why you were brought back. Brought here.” Her wording was deliberate, and Laegjarn’s posture jolted. But she remained at the same position, the only change being the tightening of her knuckles at the sword.

“Why, with unlocking Kasumi’s real power-” Laegjarn’s motions cut her off, just as fast as before, but this time Hrid began to call out the general’s name in worry, running forward to her side. But what awaited him was not the worst of his fears.

Laegjarn’s blade remained to Loki’s throat for a moment, but released without so much as cutting a thread of her choker.

“I told her I have no desire for those answers,” Laegjarn muttered as the strategist made her leave- a bit more hasty than Hrid had ever seen her, he thought with some surprise. “But I don’t think that’s the last we’ll hear of this business.” Hrid could only watch in silence, a guilt starting at his throat from the outburst, as the Muspell general walked away from the group- her posture said enough, that she needed some time alone.

He’d felt guilt before at the suffering and death of his people and family when King Surtr had slaughtered and tortured them. He’d felt helpless- just as he had for all those months, seeing Kasumi silently suffering. And now he felt even more helpless- he felt as if they all did- seeing her reduced to pitiful screams and tears, curled into a ball on the ground. And added to that, he felt a different bitter flavor of guilt- at Laegjarn, who he could also do nothing for, and who had been so strong, stronger than he knew- then and now.

“Hrid, we’re going back inside.” Kaze and Ursula were each supporting one of Kasumi’s shoulders as the ninja called to him, and the three of them and Delthea, who was walking ahead and saying quiet and soothing things to Kasumi, left towards the castle. Idunn followed close behind, giving one last nod at Hrid, and her eyes were as unreadable as always. Hrid gave what little of a nod of reply he could muster, but was silent. He stayed, as if rooted to the spot, until the last color had faded from the dusky sky.

Chapter Text

The footsteps approaching were unmistakable, and from their first echoing sound in the courtyard path Kasumi could tell their owner all too well. The memories of those bright days of the past came flooding back, as if heralded by that familiar sound. But for that very reason, Kasumi was hesitant to even begin to turn behind to look, as if at the motion the entire happiness of her past and potential future would crumble away into nothingness. In a way, it would- those idyllic memories that left her far from this world were perhaps the very thing she clung to to ground herself- now so especially.

It was just like that time, when she'd followed the archduke through the bustling marketplace of Izumo, parts equal of curiosity and dread filling her chest. And cutting through the hubbub, those same footsteps accompanied the very same young man who now approached.
The word- the name- it escaped her lips before Kasumi could stop herself. The name of a friend from another world- one who may bear the same face and mind as this one, but who was surely different, she reminded herself as the sinking feeling of loneliness and regret returned once more.

But much to her surprise, he stopped. He tilted his head in that honest manner, just as he had when they were back in Izumo. Kasumi only stared back, mirroring his pose without thinking. But then his eyes widened, an honest grin breaking on his face, and the feeling of dread turned to an overwhelming hope that made her chest ache just as much.

"Kasumi, it's...?"

"It really is you! Chihaya!"

The two could not hold back any longer, and clasped arms as they had in another world, in what felt like so long ago. Chihaya's smile was just as warm and innocent, as if conveying the feelings they both felt at the welcome reunion of friends. If she could see her own face as well, Kasumi would surely have been shocked at how much more relaxed her expression was, as if a year of inner strife melted away with just that one moment.

There was no words for several moments, just laughter- a bit self conscious and nervous at the long awaited and seemingly impossible reunion, but honest and open sounds from their now-freed hearts.

Finally, the silence was broken by Chihaya, the initial happiness on his face replaced by something more akin to worry- a nervous, unsteady sort.

"You're not... er, I mean, you aren't, you know...." His face had taken to a dusty hue, and for a moment Kasumi did not know what to make of it. But after he finally finished the question, it clicked.

"You aren't, you know... married?" Of course, only matters of romance would get Chihaya this tongue tied- even back then. But the oddity of the question could not help shocking his fellow retainer, and it took Kasumi a moment to even think of how to respond.

"No? Erhm, at least not at the moment. Or ever, really?" It wasn't like Chihaya to ask something as absurd- of course, he could be a bit dense and hard to read at times, but it was never done with malice.

Chihaya's face was wrinkled in contemplation, when at last he let out a sound of clarity- a bit between a grumble and a shout, frustrated but with a hint of light heartedness as well.

"What a fool I've been!" He ran a hand through his flyaway brown hair, laughing. His eyes met Kasumi's with a lighthearted but apologetic way, as if to answer her confused look.
"I was bamboozled, you see. Utterly hoodwinked, flimflammed, conned, put it how you will." And then it all became clear.

"Both of us were." Kasumi added as Chihaya's voice trailed off, responding to the gloved hand that gently was placed to his shoulder, and with the words of apology and explanation said his expression once more returned to its previous smile.

What fools they'd been, that was true. All this time Kasumi had believed with all her heart that even Chihaya would not- could not be the one she knew. How long he'd been summoned to Askr she didn't even know- she'd never bothered to even check and find out for sure.
All those days and nights, when the anxiety and fear had clawed the breath out of her throat and chased sleep and peace of mind from her company- all that time could have been spent at least trying. But somehow, standing next to Chihaya, just as if they were back in their own world, she could not even start to be upset about that. No, the only feeling she felt was a laughing relief and a smile that would not leave her face.

Chihaya laughed too, and both of them laughed and clasped each other's shoulders and reminisced like nothing had changed.

But things had changed- they were not in Izumo. After the laughter of relief and friendship had settled, Kasumi felt that same dull ache return. It still felt a bit empty, even with meeting Chihaya again. There was still someone- someone who meant a lot to both of them- missing. Someone they had both seen die before their eyes, and in that moment had known they would never see again.

Chihaya asked the question, or rather started to.

"Is... has Lord Izana...." This time, Kasumi did not need to hear him finish, and merely shook her head.

"I thought so." Chihaya's voice was as bitter as it could be, as he was honest with all his emotions, not just the happy ones.

It was a while until Kasumi spoke, the words were not ones she had debated over, but rather just seemed to come out.

"Even if.... even so. We're still here, both of us."

Chihaya made a soft affirmitive sound, and though his eyes were downcast he was clearly listening.

"So, Izana... isn't too far away." She did not notice the lack of the proper respect for the lord who had employed both her and Chihaya, but it mattered not to either of them- in this moment it was not just as a lord and employer that they felt towards the Archduke- it was as a friend.

"And even if he is, we're still his retainers. We're still Izumo's retainers."

"That's right." Chihaya's voice gained strength as he repeated it. "That's right! It doesn't matter the distance in worlds or time, we'll still keep his spirit with us!" The sword instructor's hand squeezed Kasumi's shoulder. It was not a hearty gesture, but much more personal and soft, yet still full of the decisive intensity of his words.

Kasumi nodded back. She met the one eye that wasn't covered by the fluffy bangs, and with it Chihaya's expression softened as well, as if both of them were finally able to rest from a heavy burden that had weighed them down for so long.

Chapter Text

Hyperion took to the skies of the Askran kingdom and, just as readily, to its food. For both of these reasons equally Heath was content.
Of course, as a mercenary, it was his job to fight, so the ease of his wyvern partner was a crucial aspect of battle. But the large wyvern was not just another tool of war to him. They'd been together even before he'd left Bern behind, and side by side they'd somehow survived against the odds. It would be no understatement that Hyperion was his most trusted partner and friend.
"How is it, Hyperion?" The rider called to said friend, giving a pat to the wyvern's back as the large dragon dug into the trough of food, only looking up briefly, a satisfied expression on his food-covered face before digging back into the meal. The sight made Heath smile, but it was a relieving one nonetheless- if Hyperion was satisfied, he usually could be as well.
Still, a shadow of a doubt lingered on- though he was not sure exactly what or why.
His attention was turned away from the apprehension at the sound of the wyvern's nose bumping about the now nearly empty trough, still eagerly examining for any remaining morsels.
"You want seconds?" Heath's answer was with a light tone, a little chuckle on his lips at his partner's eagerness. "Okay, I'll see if they have anything. You worked hard today, no wonder you're so hungry!" He called back to the wyvern as he left, but he was already out of earshot when the stable encountered a surprise visitor.

It didn't take long for Heath to return, a slightly smaller bucket of leftovers under one arm, but when he did it was with the surprise of noting another visitor to the stable. He hadn't met too many people from Askr- he'd recognized Lord Eliwood and his friends of course, but there were many more that were total strangers, fighting for kingdoms that he'd never heard even mention of in Elibe.
The woman who stood inside the stable was one such stranger, but something of her posture was familiar. There was a certain commanding restraint in her bearing, and the gold adorned crest and headdress of her outfit was such that the ex- soldier of Bern could not help finding familiar.
He must have been staring in shock, for soon the composed woman turned her fire-red eyes to him. Her gaze was not angry, but it was stern and serious, and Heath felt compelled to say something.
"Is there something I can help with," he started, hesitating a bit before going with his best guess as to her title- somehow it felt fitting. "er, General?"

The woman looked a bit taken aback, eyes widening a bit with surprise. But her expression soon changed, instead a small smile starting on her face, gentle and honest despite seeming a bit out of practice.
"Please do not bother with those formalities, I am simply another under the Order of Heroes now. You can just call me Laegjarn."
Something seemed familiar, like he'd heard the name before, but most of what Laegjarn had said he did not fully know. Yet what was clear he understood perfectly, and it was with relief that he replied.
"Likewise, Laegjarn. I'm Heath, and this is Hyperion. It's nice to meet you." He gave a smile, gesturing to the wyvern, who was being oddly quiet, despite the proximity of his refill of lunch.
Laegjarn gave a polite nod in greeting, though for a moment after her eyes wandered to the door, as if anxious about something outside.
"It's nice to meet you as well, Heath. I apologize for my early leaving, but I have to check on something." She gave a curt bow to accompany the explanation, glancing to the wyvern rider once more before leaving. "I look forward to working with you."

Heath waved as she left the stable, but stopped mid-wave when the realization hit him. "...Princess Laegjarn, general of Muspell..." He'd been that informal to a princess? The heir to one of the major kingdoms of this world? Sure, Lady Louise back in Elibe hadn't minded the formalities- neither had many of the other royals- but that was then, and now was now. The rider smacked his head, gritting his teeth with a sudden worry. Hopefully an apology would be sufficient later.
In this realization he hadn't noticed another stranger arrive, even poke his head in at the stable door, and now the man called over to him. His clothes and gold armor was neatly groomed, and like Laegjarn he wore a headdress and the mark of a royal crest, albeit of a much different style than the Muspell royal's.

"Please excuse my sudden intrusion. Is there anyone else in the stables currently?" The man scanned the interior with serious icy blue eyes.

This time he wouldn't mess it up. Though he didn't recognize the symbols, he knew this man must be of royal blood- what title he wasn't sure but he wouldn't take any chances. "Just me and Hyperion, your Majesty." He gave a formal bow, but nearly capsized the bucket of scraps, luckily recovering it in time. Still, it wasn't as befitting of the address as he'd hoped.

The man's eyes suddenly changed, as if defrosted from their icy seriousness, and he ran into the stable, hands out to help catch the bucket. He stood off, a bit awkwardly- it surprised Heath a bit as it was not what he had imagined the man to be from his first impression.

The man looked around, this time out of a tinge of embarrassment, and there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "I am sorry for the inconvenience I have caused. Are you alright, sir?"

That's what I should ask you, he couldn't help but think in incredulity, but instead Heath shook his head. "No, I'm fine. Uh, your Majesty." He fumbled a bit with the words, remembering to add the title at the last moment.
The man smiled a bit more, still a bit stiff and icy, but there was something gentle in his expression as well. "Just 'Hrid' is fine here. You need not worry about formalities."

There was a moment's pause, and like Laegjarn, Hrid turned his attention outside, as if worried about something in the distance. "Well, I am afraid I must be going. I hope to work with you again soon, sir Heath." And with the same briskness as he had appeared, the man left.

The two royals, one after the other- the way they'd seemed to be looking for something uneasily- it was confusing enough just being in this new world, but this was even moreso. Whatever had they been looking for, thought Heath as he finally began to unload the scraps into Hyperion's trough.
And then, as if to answer his question, there sprang out from behind a barrel of hay in the corner, the very person.

She couldn't be older than some of the younger members of Lord Eliwood's group- maybe on the older side for a kid, but still very much one. The girl dusted off her mage robes, brushing a few bits of hay out of her brown hair, all with a cheerful and unbothered expression on her face.
"Whew, it was a hassle hiding from those two. But they're gone now." She spoke aloud, but then turned to Heath with a questioning look. "Right? Unless you're covering for them, mister?" There was an accusing look in her eyes, and Heath could not help feeling that despite her youth, this kid was powerful.
"Nah, you aren't. You don't look worried enough if you were. Besides, someone with such a sweet wyvern wouldn't be that scheming." She glanced to Hyperion, winking to him- which Heath was sure was ignored by the chowing wyvern.
"Well, that's because he was probably busy eating..." he replied under his breath, almost not intending to say anything. But soon, another voice caught his attention.

"Delthea? Is this where you went?" Another woman stood in the doorway, expression looking worried but with a shadow of relief already starting on her brow.

"Oh, hey Kasumi-" the mage girl started, being pulled into a hug by the newly arrived young woman. Kasumi, as she was called, had a different sort of outfit from the others, and though it was as foreign as all the others in design, Heath would guess it to be the outfit of a mounted healer.

"I'm just glad you're alright after that last battle. Did you see Hrid and Laegjarn yet?" This earned a sigh from Delthea, who looked away with an expression that gave away her answer.

"You know Princess Laegjarn and..." Heath started to ask, stumbling on what Hrid's title was- he was royalty for sure, but he realized just now he had not heard specifically what.

"Oh, you met them already?" Kasumi asked, expression shifting to an excited, if not a bit flushed, one. "I hope you all will get along- er, that is, with them and the whole Order." The excitement seemed dampened with practicality, and it was not without surprise that Heath noted the descent of excitement and interest in her tone at the end of the sentence.

"They've all been very good to me..." Heath trailed off, still a bit unsure to the situation and the sudden excitement since he'd gotten back from getting the kitchen scraps.

"Yeah, they're great... er, that is, that's great!" She recovered her words quickly, but not before a slight blush had dusted the healer's cheeks. "Please let us know if you need anything, or have any questions about life here." Kasumi explained, her expression taking on a bit more life. "By the way, this is Delthea and I'm Kasumi. I'm from Izumo, in the World of Fates."

Something seemed familiar about the healer, but Heath could not put his finger on it. "I'm Heath, and this is Hyperion. Delthea's already met him."

Delthea grinned, giving a little laugh, the wyvern having finished his seconds poked his head out from the top of the stall. She gave a confident look as she introduced herself. "I'm Delthea, and I'm one of the best mages around, even in this world. I'm from a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, but that's not important now." Despite her words there was something a bit sad about her tone.

There was a quiet moment before Kasumi spoke, her expression lined with worry and sympathy. "Delthea, I think Hrid and Laegjarn are only looking for you because they're worried. If something had happened to Fjorm or Laevetain they'd be terribly upset, and they care deeply about you as well." Kasumi looked up, an apologetic expression directed towards Heath.
"Sorry."

"It's alright." He replied, stepping into Hyperion's stall. They needed their moment, and his friend needed a quick brush down and check.

He wasn't intending to listen in on the conversation between the two, but the bits and pieces couldn't help reminding him of those murky and apprehensive thoughts from earlier- the thoughts that had troubled him since he arrived in Askr.

"..back there..." What had he been doing? He remembered fighting in Lord Eliwood's army. But what had happened after that....?
"..they were calling for you..." Someone had been calling. It was like he was asleep, maybe... like being under a clouding spell. But he remembered someone calling. And he'd had no reason not to take that chance, follow that call.

That was it! He stiffened suddenly, eyes wide.

"Hey, Mr. Wyvern guy!"
"Heath, right?"
The mercenary snapped to attention, nearly falling back onto Hyperion. Delthea and Kasumi were standing next to the stall, and Kasumi's expression seemed to shadow in concern as her eyes met his. "Heath.. are you feeling alright? You look..."

"Just a bit shocked." He replied quickly, holding up a hand as if to recover.

Kasumi's expression looked understanding, a little smile on her face. "Being summoned is a stressful ordeal." Heath could not help but nod in agreement to the statement.

"I remember hearing someone. When I was summoned, hearing someone calling out." It still puzzled him, but the words left him so naturally.

Kasumi stopped, expression still cloudy. "It may have been the Summoner. They are the one that fulfills the role of calling everyone who is summoned, whether it is consciously or not."

It seemed a decent explanation, but something still didn't feel quite right. In fact, even after Kasumi and Delthea had left, the feeling still sat heavy on Heath's chest. Who... who on earth had that been?

Worlds away, a pair of serious dark eyes stared at the horizon from the ramparts of an old castle. Behind them, the Elibean's thoughts were clouded, lost in the memories of the past and the promise that was once made and broken in a land long past.

"Huh, a mercenary gig sounds pretty sweet. Y'know what, I might join you." The wyvern knight turned, grey eyes taking on a look of surprise at the Ostian courier's words. But the servant only smiled back with that same laidback confidence. "I'll keep in touch- promise."

The words of long ago ringing in her ears, a bitter and wry smile spread slowly across the spear wielder's lips.

"Sorry Heath. Guess even now I can't keep that promise." The hand resting on the parapet clenched for an instant, before relaxing, as if to calm her nerves. "I can't leave until I see this through. But don't worry- you aren't alone there." Though her words only sounded half convinced, her teeth bore with determination, and at last the warrior from another world turned away, disappearing into the shadows of the castle.

Chapter Text

The winter was beginning to end in Askr. There had been snow, like the previous year, but it could not compare to the chill of Nifl, at least to Hrid. This winter had been different from the last as well- though perhaps the temperature was roughly the same it had felt colder, more cut off. But perhaps that coldness was not solely from the season. And even now, in the first days of spring, the prince of Nifl felt as if his heart was still buried under a thick layer of unyielding snow.
Everyone had been in low spirits after the war with Hel- though perhaps the group that shared the same quarters for different reasons than their leaders, who triumphantly had returned from the final battle with the title of god-killers on their shoulders. The battle that they had witnessed was not a physical one, and was one that could hardly have any victors in it. Perhaps worst affected by it was Kasumi- tortured by worries that Hrid could not see, and felt he would never know, who had finally confronted the mysterious strategist that had formally worked for Muspell only to have any hope seemingly shattered. From what he knew, the lord she served in her own world had died, and her hope had been to find any word on him, either in the realm of the living or the dead- to no avail. Loki's taunting had only further driven that despair in. And there was nothing he could do about it- or perhaps it was more clear to say that he did nothing.

"Hrid?"

A clear voice broke through the cloud of his thoughts, and the prince turned from his seat at the window. It was Kasumi herself, standing at the doorway. In the candlelight she looked more rested- maybe even happier than he'd seen his friend in a long time. That alone was a warmth, however faint.
"Are you alright? You seem.... tired." Kasumi approached, one hand moving towards his own, and when he did not resist it came to rest lightly atop his. Without her gloves the warmth from the healer's hands was even more notable, not just in temperature but in movement, even as her hand solely gave his a comforting squeeze.

Tired? Had he gotten any sleep? Maybe he had- it seemed the usual amount, but somehow everything seemed far off that morning. "Perhaps I am feeling a little.... tired." His eyes drifted away, but caught a glimpse of Kasumi's as they did. The healer's gaze seemed comforting- not necessarily a happy sort, but not blaming, not judging- just comforting and sympathetic.

He wouldn't fail again. He would do anything he needed for Kasumi- any of the ones he had grown to trust in the Askran Order of Heroes. Even at the cost of his life.
He must- he had to believe that. He couldn't fail them, not again. His other hand moved, resting atop Kasumi's warm one with a gentle touch. The healer smiled, and he let his eyes meet hers. Something in his chest did seem to be thawing, giving in to that warmth of spring.

But the worried shout suddenly shook both of them.

"Kasumi! Prince Hrid!" It was Kaze, his usually calm voice turned to a worried call. "It's-"

The two hurriedly followed the ninja all the way to the infirmary room, and the sight of the cot made their hearts stop. Lying as still as a statue atop it was Idunn, her body eerily still save for the faint motion of her chest- a flicker of faint hope in her steady breathing.

Everyone else was gathered as well- Ursula standing, as if to guard, but closer to Idunn's cot than to the door; Delthea holding the edge of her cape nervously, valiantly fighting back tears but with an expression that seemed to be crying out for the dragon priestess. Kaze moved to the other door, but his eyes stayed on Idunn's still form with clear worry in them.
"Fae...." Delthea's voice was shaky, but she tried to steady it. The young dragon, Idunn's beloved little sister, was away on a mission- they'd all seen the two happily say their goodbyes with a cheerful promise to meet later. But now the memory seemed bitter- terribly so.
By the side of the cot was the newest member of the small group, crouched over in despair as his messy green and white hair hung over his eyes, gritted teeth and furrowed brows only barely visible.
"Why... why couldn't I...." Heath's voice sounded broken, one hand clutched in a fist, still wearing his gauntlets. "She wanted to tell me something.... is this because of me?"
By his side Laegjarn stood, her expression stern but not uncaring as she placed a hand on the man's shoulder with a comforting gentleness. It seemed a natural motion, and though her expression was clearly strained by the situation there was no blame in it.
"It is the 'sleep sickness'. Many have fallen to it, and perhaps because of the Order's battles with the nightmares, Idunn has as well." She stated the facts clearly, in a way that seemed to dispell all doubt. "It is not your fault, Heath. You did a very good thing to take her here- she can get the cure readily when it is found. The Order is investigating it, after all." She said it convincingly, as if there was no reason to distrust the Order- the very leaders who had never stopped treating her like an enemy general.
Heath's head moved upwards, finally meeting Laegjarn's red eyes. Something in his own look seemed to change- from despair to a solemn determination, as if emboldened by just the presence of the wyvern general. He nodded, standing swiftly by the other wyvern rider's side.

"It's going to happen either way." Hrid turned at the voice- it was Kasumi who had spoken. Her face was downcast, head tilted down like Heath's had been. There was a faint worry in Hrid's heart- the memory of those terrible days the previous year, when the paranoia and despair had nearly destroyed his friend. But now, something felt different- he could feel it without a doubt.
"It may be tomorrow, or the day after, but if we wait it'll only be longer. We have to find how to stop this- our own way. Let's go with the Order, and find out how to help Idunn." Kasumi looked around at the ones she trusted- the ones who had helped her so, who had fought alongside her in battles both physical and emotional.
"There's a lot of others suffering also-"
Ursula cut her off, but she moved forward, resting a hand at Kasumi's chin. The motion was direct, but the expression that flickered to Kasumi's face was a more steady one, as if the touch had infused confidence in her.
"That does not concern me. However, having a powerful.... associate unable to fight alongside... is another matter altogether." The assassin gave a smile, and despite her cool tone she seemed happy- even proud of the healer. "Prove your words true, Kasumi. I will join you."
"Idunn's been... well, everyone..." Heath's voice was more steady now, eyes moving from the sleeping woman to the whole group. "I'm in also. I won't forget what you've all done for me and Hyperion." His expression had the faintest smile, and an old confidence had seemed to return to his face.
Laegjarn nodded, eyes meeting Kasumi with a smile. "I would be honored to join you, Kasumi."
The healer met her gaze, relief on the wide smile she gave. "Thank you, Laegjarn." Her voice was gentle, full of gratefulness.
"Kasumi!" Delthea smiled, some of the clouds in her expression seeming to clear. But her eyes turned back to the dragon with a sad look. "But... I don't want to leave her all alone...."
"Delthea." Hrid spoke before he realized it- but even so, his voice was steady, almost as if he was speaking to Ylgr. He walked to the side of the mage, crouching ever so slightly to her eye level. "Your concern is very kind, and in addition a sound point. I have an idea. I will stay with Idunn, and send word if anything changes in Askr." He had not thought of it until the moment, but somehow the words felt natural. Delthea's look was relieved, and she smiled with a nod, running to Kasumi's side to sink into the hug offered by her.
"If I may ask, who would you intend to send, Prince Hrid?" Kaze asked in a low but polite voice. His expression was conflicted but dutiful, as if offering himself.
Hrid shook his head- the ninja thought readily of others, but Hrid could see the conflict clearly on his face. "There are others staying in Askr that are not involved in the Order's plans for the investigation of the nightmare realm."
"Death Knight." Kasumi spoke the name suddenly, voice full of conviction, before looking down as if flustered by her own sudden boldness. "Er.... he should be here, and we have met before...."
Hrid gave a nod- somehow it seemed a bit comforting to see Kasumi's confidence, as well as the more cheerful side that had once seemed so unreachable. He would not let them hurt her, or any of the others- not again.
"I will ask him if he would be willing to." Kasumi smiled back, a beaming look of relief as she nodded. "I think it would be good if you went with them, Kaze." When the ninja nodded, his stoic look could not hide the hint of relief in his eyes.

Kasumi's gaze lingered on Hrid even before he noticed the concerned look. "Hrid, are you... okay with this? Being here alone...?"
There was a flicker in his heart at the words- a memory of the ruins of icy homes and buildings and two new gravestones of ice. But he shook his head, as if to shake away any doubts or worries. "I'm with Idunn. And if I stay here, neither of us will be alone." He smiled- it was confidence they needed, not worry or doubt for him.
"We'll be waiting to welcome you all back." He hoped it would be true- he must believe it would come true, and he looked at the group of them. It was warmth- that very warmth he was feeling in his chest, even moreso than any worries or fears. He must believe in that warmth.

Chapter Text

The rain poured relentlessly outside, a steady stream that blanketed the windows of the dimly lit meeting room with countless trails of water. The room was dimly lit inside, but that hardly bothered the small group who met inside. Or at least, it hardly bothered them most of the time.

"It seems our services may be needed in the Order's planned information gathering." Ursula's voice was steady and clear despite her quiet tone, but she had no reason to raise her voice to the small gathering of only three. "Despite what they may insist, they have had to rely on... such services every time in their past endeavors." It was hardly amusing, although it had been perhaps the first few times. The leaders of the group were always so defensive over the nature of their organization- calling it the "Order of Heroes" and stubbornly insisting on the nature of their goals. But the assassin had been under the service of Askr to know that titles and words were all it was- when it came down to what had to be done, there was just as much backstabbing and deceit as in any other group she had seen or worked with. And it definitely was not as neatly organized as the Black Fang, her former employer within the group in particular.

"So? Why should we bother with those runts?" Kronya's voice had a bored intonation, but her red eyes gleamed with a flicker of interest in the dim light. "Buut... I guess it'd be more fun than just waiting for the bloodshed to come to us, huh?" She ran a finger over the hilt of her knife, a smirk crossing her lips to replace the bored expression of before, and despite her initial words it was clear she was already preparing for any future fights.

From the other corner of the room the last member was silent, but that was no surprise to Ursula. She continued without batting an eyelash. "The three of us, of course, will be sent out. However, due to the... 'possibility of battle'..." the words made her almost laugh as she paused, "it would be best to have a healer and a non-ranged fighter accompany us."

"If it's a close fighter, leave it to that gloomy skeleton," Kronya replied, eyes barely leaving from her knife, but already her tone had seemed to be lifted at the thought of potential battle. "Hell, he'd probably be grateful to go." In truth, sometimes Kronya wondered why that very reaper knight didn't work alongside the small assassin group more often. He seemed to run in some of the same unlikely circles as they did, even in Askr. But a part of her was almost glad at that fact- even seeing the faces or traces of any of those worms from Fodlan brought back memories and feelings she would rather strangle any trace out of.

"And as for healers...."

"Kasumi." Clarisse spoke for the first time in the meeting. Her voice was stiff and her eyes didn't even look up from the bow in her hands, the one she had been gripping with white knuckles for the entire meeting. In the silence she finally looked up, meeting the other two assassin's gazes with a harsh defiance in her eyes. "What? She's friends with that knight, or whatever he is. And why shouldn't we ask her?"

In all honesty, Kronya had thought of that healer as well the second Ursula had mentioned needing one. Unfortunately. That troubadour was utterly unfazed by her, no matter what was said about her. And the look she always had- it brought back those awful memories just as the trash from her original world did, but it was almost worse than even them. They would look at her with disgust and hate, but that was not how Kasumi looked at her. And that made it so much worse.

So she was inclined to laugh- a harsh and cruel laugh that usually was reserved for her enemies. "That softy? Really, Clarisse, I thought you were smarter than that." Her tone was biting, a cruel reply that would surely chase away those unwanted memories from her own thoughts.

Clarisse stood, still gripping the bow tightly, and even in the dim candlelight Ursula could see the young sniper's expression shift. It was not as if the air of their meetings was ever light, but now it was growing more dangerous and unstable with every second.

"Well..." The archer's brows furrowed, lip wrinkling with growing anger. Today the dark meeting room had only seemed to conjure unwanted shadows, especially after what she had heard the Order's leaders discussing so light-heartedly earlier that day. It felt as if those shadows were closing in on her- she did not dare to have hope, but it was as if any shred of stability was about to be swallowed by them. So she reacted, just as she always had- the only thing that might chase them away- that might chase away those people or anyone else.

"Well, I'm smart enough to know not to trust you either." There was nothing but anger and rage in her gaze, that flickered at Kronya with a stronger flame than any of the room's candles. "You'd run back to your precious little boss if they were summoned to the Order- both of you would." Her gaze turned to Ursula with just as much of an accusatory glare. "If they were out there you'd backstab everyone in this Order just to please them."

"You stupid worm!" Kronya's voice cut through the quiet of the room, dagger raised as she rushed to Clarisse, the sound of bow and dagger clashing soon clanging through the rain. "As if I'd ever join those dirty backstabbing maggots!" Her expression was intense, eyes widened in something more than just anger as she screamed the words.

"After what they-"

Suddenly her eyes grew wide, dagger hand relaxing as she jumped back, as if changing her mind. The dagger assassin's posture suddenly changed, no longer on the attack, not even battle ready at all. It was only a reserved look, neutral but unflinching as her head tilted down, hiding any expression under flame-red hair. "Mark my words, if any of those scum ever show their faces here, I'll cut them down like the beasts they are. And I won't hesitate to do the same to anyone else in this castle." She flicked the dagger one last time before returning it to the belt at her waist, and silently, without hesitation, left the room.

It was just two now. Ursula looked to Clarisse, but the young woman's eyes would not meet hers. Her head was turned to the window, a blue light reflecting on her profile from the glass, tinting her face in the same melancholy light as the defeated look in her half closed eyes. But just as soon as she had, she looked down once more, only moving to retrieve the quiver of arrows from her chair.

"There's no need for any more than one, right? I'll get Kasumi and that knight. Anyone else would just hold us back." Ursula didn't say anything in response, but even if she had she knew it would not change the archer's mind. And just like the Agarthan assassin before, Clarisse left the room without a sound.

Alone in the candlelight, Ursula stood in the empty meeting room. This sort of thing was not something unexpected, nor did she thing it would be the first or last time such a situation occured. But then again, it was to be expected of even other assassins. Their level wasn't that of perfection, after all. But the familiar thought seemed to have a bitter tint now, and a strange feeling was starting in the assassin's heart even before she snuffed out the last candle in the room.

Days had passed since then. The rain had passed, but the small pools of water remained in the old pathways of the more rundown area of Askr's capitol. It had been about a year since she had reason to be in that area, but Ursula found herself returned to it. And she was not the only one.

There was no mist this year, only the red haired man in white robes, standing among the soaked dead grass of the ruins.

"Ah yes, the eavesdropping assassin. I understand it is within your line of work, but it's just as common to princesses as it is scoundrels nowadays." His tone was bitter and sarcastic, biting through the summer air. "Of course, it's only praiseworthy if it's the former doing so." His tone spoke more truth than his words, biting and caustic at every syllable, but something in it seemed painful, the same way a wounded animal's hissing might be.

Ursula was hardly impressed by the recognition- she was not sure he had noticed her when she had followed the Muspell heirs from the Order's base the day they had encountered him, but now it was clear that the eccentric young man's observation powers were more than she had suspected. Only slightly more.

"Do you always introduce yourself to those who could kill you in such a way? Unlike the gracious Generals of my company, I won't hold back." If anything she was amused- the odd feelings had been slightly disrupted to said amusement, a welcome change.

But the words that Arle spoke brought those feelings back in full force.

"I imagine not everyone's happy about the most recent recruits of the Order." His eyes barely wavered, as if he was expecting the reaction. "Of course, I know it's rude to ask things you know the answer to."

He walked forward. "I've heard about the Blue Crow, just as I've heard of the Black Fang as a whole. I imagine you'd place yourself at her right hand, just like before. Lady...."

Ursula's tome hand was already raised, and both of them could feel the static energy already gathering in the air. "Know your place, priest. That name isn't worthy of your dirty lips."

Arle's mouth closed, and he half raised his hands in surrender, but his expression seemed more satisfied than ever- infuriatingly so. It was as if he was merely looking for an answer he already knew was correct.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't dream of it. But between the two, who would you choose?" Somehow his tone seemed cruleler than before- a bitter and defeated sound that didn't seem natural in his voice. "Only one can be perfection, can't it?"

Ursula's hands had begun to lower, but they returned after the taunting words left the priest's mouth. But it was only a warning, the man was already making his way back. Nor did Ursula really feel like completing the threatened spell, an unnatural feeling in her stomach. But she would not give him the sight of her dropping her posture, and the electricity only faded from the air after the red haired man had vanished from sight into the ruins.

It was true- that was the worst part of it. In the rare moments when Ursula was unable to stop those thoughts, she knew it. She had only known that perfection, ever since she met Lady Sonia. It was the only thing that mattered, the only thing worth valuing. But it was something vastly different from the life she had grown to know now.

Still, she was the Blue Crow. She was an assassin, a merciless killer- that had not changed. If Kasumi was like the commanding trio of the Order, or even the drab legendary Summoner, perhaps she would not have these feelings. But Kasumi was not. Of course, the healer was far from perfect, but she also never had that disparaging look, the sort that insists on everything following a saccharine web of falsehoods and fake smiles. Because of that person, there was no need, no reason for Ursula to be anything but the Blue Crow, the assassin elite of the Black Fang- anything but herself.

There was a sudden feeling at her shoulders, and it snapped the assassin from her thoughts. But as she turned, there was no reason to reach for her tome to call upon a bolt to strike her unknown assailant- the feeling at her shoulders was nothing more than a towel to dry the rain at her hair and face, offered by the prince who also occupied the shared living quarters.

Hrid's look had changed too since the last year. Especially lately, his eyes looked tired and defeated. It was not a look that became the stiff aura he had, but it was also free from any pretenses- as if a look to his innermost thoughts. But even as he wore such a weary expression, there was a genuine look of concern in his eyes.

The assassin could not help but smirk. Such a person had ever thought himself capable of performing an assassination? The subject had come up before, and despite his determined rebuttals she still fond the idea nearly incredulous. Of course, his attempt had been far from successful, and if not for the timing of the Order's interference in the conflict between the kingdoms, said assassination attempt would have likely been his own end.

Still, she did not mind the overly soft gestures- at least not in the moment, and instead took the towel, wiping drops from her purple bangs as she turned to the prince. "Oh, how considerate. I suppose it is worthy of some thanks."

Hrid gave a nod and a smile, but the smile did not reach his eyes. It almost reminded Ursula of the expression she had seen on Kasumi's face so often the previous year- the look of worry and despair that had nearly consumed the healer. "Of course, it would be wise to look after your own health before others, Hrid." Her tone was calculated- of course, it was not concern. What would it matter to her if he worried himself into any trouble? It was merely an observation.

The prince gave a laugh, but like his smile it was hollow. "I can only offer the same to you." For a moment, Ursula hesitated, one hand reaching again for her tome- was he about to make the same threats? But there was something different. His voice had not the rage of Clarisse's nor the coldness of Arle's, nor was there the knowledge of that feeling she was troubled by that the other two had had.

"Whatever happens.... take care of them." He spoke suddenly, eyes flickering but in a different way than Clarisse's had. There was something similar- the cornered and desperate look, but instead of anger Hrid's eyes were almost pleading. "I'm staying here... I know how strong you are." He swallowed, as if trying to force his thoughts together. "I trust you... and all the others." That's right, they were to leave soon- the matter had hardly concerned Ursula, but if anything it brought slight relief now. It seemed now Clarisse would have no reason to be concerned about having any company in her mission, but she would probably have to find another healer, she thought with a wry smile.

But the words from the prince still made her chuckle. "You trust an assassin? What a prince you are."

Hrid's expression didn't change. "It's the truth", was all he said, and Ursula could tell he meant it. "I...." There was hesitancy in his voice, and the tired look was clouded with guilt now as well. "I... have no reason not to, nor should I not. You've been there for Kasumi and the others... just as..." His voice faded away, but Ursula did not pry to guess at his thoughts.

Instead there was something more settled in her chest- was this relief? Whatever it was, it was a welcome feeling for the moment at least.

"You can put your worries to rest, Prince Hrid." She spoke every word genuinely- it would be carried out without fail.

Chapter Text

It was the night after the most recent group had left for Dokkalfr. Some had already been sent, but there were still many Heroes within the Order's headquarters. That particular part of the living quarters, however, only housed two now.

Hrid returned from the window to the chair at the side of Idunn's bed. It was better for her to be in their area of the barracks now, since the others that usually were there were now gone, with only Hrid remaining out of them. Idunn's condition had not changed- for better or for worse, but Hrid could only hope it would remain so.

He could not help but still feel a slight worry- the feeling that had troubled him, a doubt, however slight, that ate away at his confidence. Would he really be enough? Could he really help Idunn- help Kasumi and the others?

He stayed diligently watching over Idunn, even when the door creaked open and the one who had opened it sprang upon him.

The room was dimly lit, and only vague sounds echoed in it. That is, until the clatter of footsteps and clinking of metal filled the silence- but it only seemed to heighten the sensation of unease. But it wasn't until the sound of that familiar voice that the healer felt true panic.

Just as surely, the sight of the voice's owner confirmed Kasumi's worst fear- clothes in tatters and restrained in chains, the person she had been missing was forced into the room with a painful growl. What had... what had happened in Askr? That was the first thought that Kasumi could comprehend. How had this happened to Hrid? A million possibilities, each more and more worrying, rushed through her head. Had he gone off alone to try and stop the enemies- or had the Order's base fallen- and what of Idunn? Was she safe?

But any worries were pushed away as if by the same rough hands that pushed the prince to the ground. There was the sound of wheels- a cart loaded with things Kasumi could not make out was approaching where the others crowded around him- what was this? Were they to interrogate him? Kasumi could almost not bear to look, but there was something of the prince's steely blue eyes she could not bear to turn away from- she couldn't leave him alone, not here.

Hrid! Kasumi wanted to run forward, grab him and pull him somewhere safe- anything. Even just call out his name. But it was as if she was not even there- only her consciousness viewing everything. As the unknow figures closed in on him she was sure whatever was to happen was beginning- his voice raised in desperation as eerie chuckling filled the room. The screams and cries grew only louder and more pained, and despite the feelings that overwhelmed her she could still not make a sound. Hrid! Hrid!

"Hrid!" Finally she could hear it- her own voice as she shouted the prince's name. She could feel it too- the pressure to her vocal chords, the sensation of breath in her throat, her eyes shut tightly with intensity. But when they opened, there was not the scene there had been before- not the strained body of Hrid, or any of the others. Not even the room remained. Instead, someone she had never seen before stood before her.

The woman was striking, even besides the magenta wings like a butterfly's that fluttered steadily at her back. Her clothing seemed to be interwoven with thorns and flora, even her hair seemed as if it was blending with the flowered headdress at her high ponytail. Despite her otherworldly appearance, her expression was something very clear to Kasumi- a look of cynicism, long crushed of all hope.

"What...." It was all she could muster- all thoughts having subsided to sheer confusion and numb surprise.

The woman spoke, her voice dry and harsh, hopeless as her expression. "As I thought. So disgusting." At the silence, her eyes met Kasumi's with a piercing gaze. "Having such perverted thoughts- such wanton desires with no regard whatsoever. There's not a soul in this 'Order' that isn't a despicable reprobate."

"Who...are you?" She had not intended to speak, nor to ask the question, but somehow it left her lips. The woman only furrowed her gaze.

"I am Plumeria, the dokkalfar of lewd dreams. The most base and self-satisfying desires.... it is my unfortunate duty to satisfy every filthy one of them." The disgust dripped from her words as her lip wrinkled ever so slightly.

"....a dream....?" Kasumi thought aloud, a small spark of hope starting in her eyes. But the gaze that they reflected on was as cold as ever.

"Why does it matter to you? Wouldn't you rather it be real?" The dark elf moved forward, anger burning in her eyes as if to counter the shake of Kasumi's head. "Don't give me that look, it's too late for trying to hide your feelings. I could see the blush on your face as clear as if I'd seen your own dirty thoughts!"

Despite her words the dark elf's face had already started to redden as well, though it did not diminish the anger in her expression. What was with this mortal- it was as clear as anything that this fantasy- or whatever it was, in truth she could not say without any doubt it was wholly fantastical- was of her own making. But her refusal as well did not have the signs of a shameful lie- she could not accept it but somehow the reaction seemed genuine.

"I mean... maybe they are dirty thoughts." Kasumi's voice was small and a bit flustered, but there was something unwavering in it just the same- something Plumeria had hardly ever heard in the voice of any mortal she'd encountered. "But... it's more scary than anything, if I'm being honest. If I did see...." Her voice trailed off, as if too flustered- or horrified- to say what she had seen. "If that did happen, I think all I'd want to do would just be able to help him escape. That'd be my desire."

What was this? The dark elf was dumbfounded. Was this mortal just this badly in denial? She was nearly certain these couldn't be lies- but it was too absurd, too improbable to possibly be the truth.

The scenery flickered, and she had good reason to stop the unsteady contemplation of this strange mortal. "You're waking." Somehow she wasn't sure if she was relieved, happy, or sad.

The mortal's eyes widened, as if with sudden worry, and she rushed forward. Suddenly Plumeria's hands were in hers, clutched tightly and fervently. It was so sudden an action she took a moment to fully respond, but in that moment before she felt something warm yet unknown. "Wait, you said.... is it really just a dream? Is Hrid really okay, back in the Order? And Idunn? Wha-"

But the moment was over, and the realization had set in, as Plumeria pushed the mortal away. "How- how dare you!" The look in the dark elf's eyes was even more angry and hurt than before, and it was clear she was on edge. "To lay hands on me...!" The mortal's expression shifted again, but Plumeria barely noted it at the moment. "Your little act is for nothing. I have no intention of helping you, nor the rest of your sordid Order."

"M..my order....?" The guilt that had begun to well in Kasumi's throat at her overly forward gesture subsided slightly, pure surprise replacing it. Why had she said that- she was only a minor hero in the Order- it certainly wasn't hers.

"Don't try any more mind games with me, I won't be fooled. I'm not going to become yours like all the others."

It was in a cold sweat that Kasumi awoke. The others were sound asleep as she moved to her knees, eyes wandering to each of their faces in the dark of the tent. But after relief set in, her thoughts were elsewhere- on the dream she had seen, and unwantedly lingering on the words of the dark elf- Plumeria- she had met within it. And lingering especially on the last name she had said.

"I'm not going to fall under your control...... summoner."

Time had passed since the Askr Order and its Heroes had invaded Dokkalfr, and it was to be expected that Plumeria's work searching for the invaders was increasing every day. In truth, perhaps she preferred it- more time searching for those mortal degenerates would mean less time having to send them their terrible fantasies. However, she would rather them be gone for good- out of the way of the Lady she served.

As she hovered across the fields of purple and dark blue foliage, her thoughts could not help returning to that encounter. Now she was certain; that person must not have been the Summoner. Perhaps that group from the realm Askr had prepared a false Summoner in place of them? An underhanded tactic for sure, but with what she'd seen of their fantasies she would find it not out of place for such degenerates.

But the thoughts of that person, body double or not, still remained with her, loathe as she was to admit.

"It's more scary than anything," "All I'd want to do is just help him..." What nonsense. She could hardly believe that person could say such a blatant lie- despite that it didn't feel like such. And even if she had somehow convinced herself it was true, it was the fantasy that that mortal had called upon..... But still, that bothered her as well. It was almost as if that specific dream she had shown had been different....

There was a flicker of movement in the underbrush, and Plumeria was relieved for a respite from those thoughts, brushing off the faint feeling of worry that had seized her chest in that moment. It was nothing- maybe just left over from her talk with Lady Frejya a while back, if it was anything at all. Nothing more than an echo of that terrible memory- certainly nothing to do with that mortal she had met, the one who was not the Summoner.

No, now her attention must be directed at that person- she had to admit that the dark purple hood made good camouflage with the flora of her realm. But this little espionage would end now. One hand already raised with her magic, she narrowed her eyes at the target. She wasn't from this realm, one of those from Askr's group no doubt. But the dark elf could not say for certain that this person was a mortal either- not in the same manner as the others.

In the beam of magic that person's eyes, downcast as they were, shone with a dark aura, and Plumeria felt her breath catch in her chest- something was off. Was the woman under the effect of a nightmare? But even as she studied her, she felt something blocked, just as her spell seemed to dissipate harmlessly around the mysterious stranger. It was not the work of a nightmare, though the energy felt similar. No, it seemed an older, more arcane magic- one that maybe even preceded the entire realms of the elves.

The woman's head slowly raised, hood falling away to reveal pale lavender hair. The gaze that met the dark elf was piercing and unyielding, with one red and one green eye that were both steadily trained on their attacker. She didn't speak- somehow that made it even more unsettling. But the woman's arms began to raise, as if preparing for her retaliating attack.

Was this person with Askr? The thought gripped Plumeria, and she moved back instinctively, a sudden defensive panic starting in her chest. She had to give her strongest attack- somehow she felt it must be so, without any doubt. But even as she raised her arms, gathering the magic at her fingertips, she could not help but feel as though she would never forget this feeling- the pressure in the air as the mysterious woman stared at her unflinchingly.

The woman's form changed, but she could not make out anything, as if the shadows themselves had come together to conceal her. Something large, with a long neck, loomed in the shadows, the same eyes of red and green trained on Plumeria.

Now! Something urged her, and with a shout she did not expect to give Plumeria let the attack go, focusing on the set of unyielding eyes in the darkness. Whether her attack had met its mark she could not see, nor even hear or feel- only the darkness that seemed to grow and grow.

It was not darkness now, but light. An unending blankness that seemed to stretch on forever, unlike anything Plumeria had ever seen.

But perhaps it was not completely blank. As if surfacing with drops of water, faint colors seemed to flicker all around- some shaky, like the scribbles of a child, and some in neat, delicate lines. Scenes of people- faces that beamed with every expression. Landscapes grand and mundane. They all lingered for moments before disappearing again, like fish shyly flitting to the surface of a pond.

As if pulled from the flickering images, one seemed to remain, and Plumeria could not help her own faint curiosity, drawing closer to that figure. It looked like the same purple cloak.... and yet...

The figure turned, and the gaze of red and green met her once again, but in such a way she felt at first as if it was a completely different person. The woman did not smile with her face, but something in her eyes seemed to- a gentle and relieved one as she began to mouth the words.

"Th-"

The dark elf, elite guard to the queen of the realm of Dokkalfr, stood at the edge of the area she was surveying. She could not shake the feeling in her chest, and stood completely still for a moment. It was an unsettling sensation, yet not one that left her with unease, completely.

There was something else- as if a fire that had long ago been snuffed out had been rekindled, faint as it was. A warmth she must have forgotten- or maybe never even known. If she had been inclined to think more on it, she may have called it "hope".

But Plumeria had other matters to attend to, some movement catching her eye in a thicket somewhere almost out of sight. The thoughts of her situation returned- the hunt for the invaders from Askr and the awful things those mortals had wished and done. So the dark elf left swiftly, and didn't see the sleeping form of a hooded woman with lavender hair, nestled among the dark purple flowers with a rare smile resting peacefully on her face.

Chapter Text

Somehow Kasumi could feel it must be a dream, as familiar as the sight was. It was Askr, the very castle town neigboring the base of the Order of Heroes- but something felt off somehow. Buildings were changed- somehow they looked newer than she remembered. And the people too- they were different than she'd seen before.
It was as if- no. It must be a dream.
"You are correct."
Had she spoken aloud by mistake? The affirmative voice echoed, and she whirled in its direction. There stood a hooded figure, as if risen from a stretching shadow of evening light itself. But there was something visible of the face- white hair and downcast eyes. Something of the figure seemed ethereal and unreachable, but yet also exhausted in such a human way.

"I am...." The voice was solemn and commanding, and sounded not quite its own. "I am the God of Death."
Instantly Kasumi felt her heart sink. Even without the title she had had a grave impression from the stranger, and now with knowing it she felt a jolt at her heart at the memory of the previous war Askr had waged. So many had been slain for the ambitions of the Order- by the Summoner and Embla even the god of Death. Though said god had looked quite a bit different than the figure before her now, but the thought could not cut through her all-clouding worry.
"I was once called.... Archaentos... not too long ago." The God of Death continued, and the piercing gaze shifted to something different, still lingering on Kasumi without faltering, but with a light that seemed almost wistful.
The gaze seemed so nostalgic, so regretting now. It was as if the air had changed, and Kasumi could finally feel words reaching her throat.
"W-why have you called me here, God of Death?" She wondered if her speech had been polite enough- he had called himself a god. Was he the same as Hel? Or was he the predecessor- or even a God of Death from another world that was connected to Askr?
The God of Death did not respond, only turning his head. And then, as her eyes followed the god's gaze, the scene changed.

Somehow it felt as if she was still in this strange alternate Askr, but the place was much different- it was darker and tighter, a hole below ground. But she hardly had time to examine the location before the sound reached her ears- a child crying by her side.

The girl was small- she was younger than Delthea by several years at least. Her face was stained with tears, clothes dirty from doubtless trying to leave this small space. As close as it was Kasumi knelt down, holding out a hand towards the child to offer, speaking quietly a few words of comfort. Her gaze glanced upwards to notice something wooden and circular above, suspended by a rope. A well..... who had put this poor child in here?
"Mother....." The girl sobbed in a broken voice, and Kasumi could not take it any longer, reaching foward to put a hand on the child's shoulder to comfort her.
"Hey hey, it'll be alright. I'll-" But her hand never reached the girl. It went through her completely, as if Kasumi was made of nothing at all. She stopped in shock, eyes changing immediately from worried concern to astonishment.

"This is but a memory. It is even less than a dream."
The God of Death spoke, and Kasumi turned. His gaze was unflinching to the child, who could only continue to cry, curling in a ball with her arms to her knees, and to Kasumi as well. "It is... in fact, the last human memory this child would ever make."
"She too, is known by another name now."
Kasumi looked back at the child, whose head raised silently upwards toward the well's entrance, with just a flicker of pleading hope in them. That look- those eyes.... It was so different yet there could be no mistake.
"Plumeria.....!"

The god nodded. "It would not be long until that child would become an alfr by the hand of their Queen." His expression was unchanging, but Kasumi's wasn't.
"What are you doing." It was not a question, but the healer answered anyways. She had moved to the side of the girl, and despite her inability to do anything was looking over her with concerned eyes.
"You cannot change this. Nor can you change the end that soon approaches her."

Kasumi's voice was quiet, but broke the silent pause with determination.
"Maybe not. But she is still here, and I am still here. There's still a chance- all is not lost." No, she would not- could not give up. If she was there, she would do everything she could.

"This too will end." The God of Death seemed unfazed. "When you awaken from this shadow of a memory- this foolish dream- you will forget it all as well."

Kasumi was quiet again, but her eyes kept on the girl, who had seemed to relax just a bit, eyes still full of tears but with just a slight air of being comforted.
"That might be so also. But my feelings won't end after this. I will still want to- I still will be there for the ones I care about. And the ones who need it."

The God of Death was silent, as if in deep thought. But finally he spoke.
"Prepare to awaken, mortal." His words were serious, yet his voice had changed in a way he, the God of Death, did not expect. There was something stirring within him like a mortal curse- a feeling far too warm. And something- a sensation of the company of another- one that could not belong to this bringer of death.

The girl's eyes suddenly lit up with shock, as if something had appeared before her, and everything faded from Kasumi's view as if obscured by an all-persisting mist.

As The God of Death had said, so too did the memory, but Kasumi awoke with a heavy heart. Delthea did not expect to be pulled into a hug as she was snacking on her breakfast rations.

Something was off. Something was very wrong.
"How foolish, to think you could get away with such a thing." His body was younger, weaker- but whether from despair or inexperience he was not sure. Despite that, he struggled- ultimately in vain, the gauntleted hands that held his arms back and head down were unmoving as a statue's. The uniforms he remembered, but years of memories of them stained with blood made the sight of them, unstained and frustratingly clean, stick out in that moment in a horrible shock.
"Youll live... at least, at the moment. But the moment a suitable heir is found, you will be swiftly executed, of course." The words were more infuriating than any sight. He didn't care about that, about himself. No, it was another reason that he struggled and another reason that he felt the despair welling in his chest, blood from his bitten lip dripping down his chin in desperate anguish.
"You'll never see those two again."
He would like to refuse to give them anything- any of his despair, any of his reaction. But at those words he saw red, a scream breaking his lips as he felt his consciousness leave completely.

The field they had stopped to rest in was quiet- not to an eerie extent, but almost like a welcome respite. It had been an uneventful day, what with many forces of the Askran Order of Heroes already stationed along the path that Kasumi and the others had followed. This area was no exception, and along the way they had run into a few armored guards the healer remembered seeing before. One had even pointed to them the way to the clearing, a wide but kind smile on his face.
There was a slight nervousness in the silence- it left Kasumi alone with just her thoughts, most notably the worries. So much had happened, and just remembering the sight of Idunn's heartbreakingly still form or the dream she had been shown of Hrid (even if it was just a dream) would sometimes leave her wanting to just lie down and cry.
Maybe she would have, if all of this had happened last year. But now was different. She had to do something- to keep hoping and believing in them all, just as they had supported and believed in her even in her lowest moments the past year. And even if it meant following hot on the trail of the very people who had instigated the awful events of the last year, she would protect the people she cared about- she would not just sit idly with "i wish" and "wouldn't it be nice" as words alone.
But even as she clenched her fist, the thought of Hrid's widened eyes and Idunn's slow breathing made her heart falter, face already growing hot with what would threaten to become tears.
The shout snapped her out of it.
"Uh, you guys from earlier! A little help?" It was the armored knight from before, but his smile had turned to a worried shout. Kasumi immediately turned, alertness replacing the tearful look in an instant as she ran toward the guard with a concerned call.
"It's a group of the nightmare soldiers- there was someone in the middle of them. My buddy over there's holdin' em off right now, but we might need some-"
"-healing?" Kasumi chimed in. The armored knight looked annoyed at being cut off for a half second, but then nodded, concern replacing any personal slight.
"So, can ya help?"
Kasumi nodded before thinking, but then turned to where she had been. The others were busy setting their things safely, surveying the area carefully. They were all concerned, she had no doubt.
"I won't be long!" She called, waving. Delthea and Kaze, who had been retrieving their weapons from the carrying bags, looked over their shoulders to her, giving nods and waves back. With that, Kasumi felt a bit of confidence return to her as she followed the knight to where the attack had been.

It must have been a firece battle- broken armor, some shattered beyond repair, lay strewn around the battered purple grass. But any traces of the nightmare soldiers had disappeared, perhaps they had vanished as a bad dream does upon waking. But one set of armor remained, and it cut a much more formidable figure than any of the nightmares would have.
But as intimidating as the sharp points of the armor was, the sight was something Kasumi could not help feeling comfort at. At least usually- the black armor, battered and sunken, as if the one inside had crumpled into nothing, sent another wave of worry through her as she ran to the side of the one employed by the Order.
They'd first made acquaintance last year. It was not a pleasant time for Kasumi, but even in her worst times, when worry and despair had almost completely consumed her, that jutting black armor had cut through, an unmistakable silhouette against the blinding light. The horse-riding knight in full armor was stoic, the skull shaped mask concealing any possible expression aided by his equally unreadable voice. But somehow, whenever they were sent to battle at the same time, the sight of that knight put her at ease- it was as if that scythe and the unflappable one who wielded it could keep everything away. The worry, the fear, the sensation like crushing at her soul and the nights of nothing but crying- all of it would fall before the Death Knight.
They had talked too- a bit, but it was nothing much. But somehow that had been just what Kasumi had needed. It was always crisp and to the point, with no half-hearted "concern" done out of small talk, no belittling or even an awkward disconnect that was no fault of either side. It just had felt natural. And that natural feeling was one of the many things Kasumi could now see had kept her grounded as everything had caved out from under her.
Now she felt much less grounded, but at the moment it did not concern her. All her concern, all her attention, was to the armored warrior surrounded by broken metal and scorched grass.
"Death Knight! Death Knight!" Are you alright? She wanted to ask that, but it was clear he was not fine. However, despite the crumpled look of the armor, as she moved to steady the knight's torso she could indeed feel that there was still someone within the armor. That worry assuaged, she could feel relief flow through her whole body.
However, with that came a flood of more worries to follow it. Was he breathing normally? Was he bleeding under the armor? The gauntlets on the man's wrists were too thick to check properly, and as expected the full face armor left no room to check for a pulse at his neck.
Panic was quickly setting in, and Kasumi found her hands moving upwards, supporting the man's back and shoulders as she studied the mask, removing one hand to hover questioningly at the neckline.
"Hold."
The voice took her aback, and the healer looked up to see another silhouette of black armor cutting through the afternoon light.
"Oh good, you're back!" The armored knight from before sounded relieved- he was somewhere further back, but even then his voice seemed out of focus in Kasumi's spinning head. She hardly thought- only a feeling a mix of fear and awe as the fully armored figure approached.
"Your intentions may be fair, but a mask is more than just protection of one's face. You are not prepared to go through with this." The knight's voice was solemn, cold but not unfeeling. In fact, it seemed to know all too well the words he spoke. The sword landed in the dirt as his hands, clad in heavy gauntlets, rested atop it. It was a posture of dominance and intimidation, but did not seem threatening- only a warning.

A cough broke the silence, and Kasumi looked to follow the sound- it was from beneath the battered armor in her arms.
"Death Knight...!" The man moved slightly, as if testing out his limbs again, sharp motions and winces that were less hidden by the muffled voice revealing not only his injuries, but also life.
A smile of relief had begun to grow on Kasumi's face and she kept the hand at the knight's back steady. "I'll have you healed in just a moment longer." There was confidence in her voice, but she did not think on it- only raising her staff arm towards the knight's armored body.

When Kasumi returned to the field where the others had now set up camp, she did not return alone, now holding the reigns of the black armored horse gently but securely. The animal followed with a firm gait, as if aware that the one leading it was not its master.
"You've returned." Ursula's voice was cool but her smile was welcoming, and she stared over the horse and Kasumi. There was a serious cloud on her face- of course she remembered their plan and must have immediately understood what the sight meant.
But even so, her reply was calm. "The horses are resting over there," she said with a gesture. "Kaze and Delthea are scouting the edge of the clearing, and Laegjarn and Heath are surveying by the air." The assassin had a satisfied look as she explained, meeting Kasumi's eyes steadily as if to instill confidence with her. "But there seems to be no anomalies here specifically. We will likely move on in the morning."
Kasumi nodded. Her eyes wandered to the horse, then to Ursula. The question was hesitant at her throat, but she forced herself to ask.
"Um, Ursula... There's, from Askr..."
"The one you had arranged to before- the Death Knight, was it?" Her tone was steady, expression cold but not cruel. "If he is here, he may as well join us. After all, we are all here under the orders of the Order." She gave a small chuckle at the last repetitive words, the sound wry and unconvinced. But her words were genuine, and Kasumi gave a nod as she headed to the other horses.
She could not help but wonder about the Death Knight's horse- what was its personality like? They'd only seen each other in battle, after all. Maybe Zitronnen would get along with it- she could not help but hope so. The memory entered her mind before she could stop it- Idunn gently patting the manes of her own and Hrid's mounts, gentle words in an ancient tongue spoken as she soothed them, as if she could understand exactly how they were feeling.
"Healer."
Kasumi jumped, startled as she whirled around. Still wearing the battered armor, as if he was the ghost of a battle-worn soldier from long ago, was the Death Knight.
"D-death Knight!" She nearly dropped the reins, catching them in her hands and fumbling for a moment before handing them, gently as to not upset the horse, to its partner. "H-here you are."
The armored knight gave a nod.
"Thank you." His voice was serious, unreadable as before. But something of that set Kasumi at ease- she had gotten the feeling when she first saw him that he had just been through something horrible, and not just related to the battle.
"Er, you're welcome." She was grateful, but did not quite know how to respond, one hand fiddling with a string at her capelet.

"For before, that is." The knight clarified, and somehow Kasumi knew what he meant as he tilted his neck ever so slightly. "This mask.... this armor..." There was weight to his voice, as if something painful was stifling at his chest, keeping the words back.
"It's okay. You don't have to change." Her own words left smoothly- too smoothly, and Kasumi was taken aback by them. "Er, that is, out of your armor. Or mask. Or if you want to, you can, but-" She stopped, feeling just a bit put on the spot and looking away from the glowing red from the hollow eye sockets.
"You're....you. Is what I mean." Her voice was quieter, but the knight did not speak- nor did he seem to make any sound at all, standing stock still. Even his cape seemed frozen in place. "I don't.... no one here needs you to become anything else. Just....we're here for you, just the way you are." Her eyes finally rose, hesitantly meeting the glowing red as a smile, awkward yet genuine, started on her face.
The knight was silent still, but he finally moved- a nod.
"I have news..... from Askr." His body seemed unsteady as he began to step forward, voice exhausted as if the last energy was finally leaving him.
"You can rest first," Kasumi replied, holding an arm out, and the knight did not resist as the worn gloves took the spiked metal of his gauntlets, steadying him by the forearm. "I know the news is important, but you are too." What indelicate phrasing, Kasumi thought, embarrassed at herself, but she hardly minded at the moment- as long as that workaholic knight got some rest.
She thought she heard the ghost of a chuckle as the reaper knight turned, walking away towards the assembled makeshift tent.

"You have arrived from Askr?" The other knight in full armor turned to face him after the healer and his horse that he had sent ahead were out of sight. Somehow the ruined field seemed to fit the two knights- the other armored knight, after relievededly checking his companion with a wide grin, had also left range of earshot to resume his post at the forest's edge.
"Yes." He replied- it came naturally, without any thought on the matter. The gauntlet extended to him, and when he took the hand the grip was strong, unflinching. But it was different than anyone else he had seen- anyone else he had worked for especially so.

"The child was wise to not remove your helmet." The other knight broke the silence, his words the subject that the Death Knight's thoughts had lingered on. "But it was almost as if she could understand, more than just pity or fear."
That was true, he had gotten that impression as well. This person.... the way that healer treated him was different from anything he had known. He was not feared, nor hated or despised. But equally so he was seen as himself, without any clouded thoughts. It was something he could not understand.
"In any case, you have business with them. That much is clear." The armored knight's voice was clear and steady, as if nothing could escape his notice. "Go. That person is surely waiting."

Even now, as the moonlight had completely enveloped the purple-tinted fields, the knight sat awake, unable to sleep. It was as if the terrible nightmare of something that he could not allow to pass would return the moment he closed his eyes.
"We're here for you, just the way you are." Was that really true- that tiny healer thought herself able to protect him- the blood soaked reaper. But there was something he could not brush off- a genuine tone that he was unable to dismiss as simply fantasy.
Those thoughts eventually left him as the night hours grew, but no nightmares descended on him this time as he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep in the realm of nightmares.

Chapter Text

Heath was used to being on the move in unfamiliar territory- it had been so in Elibe under Eliwood's banner, and even before that as a mercenary and soldier of Bern. But this place was different- it was as if every shadow resembled one all too familiar from long ago, and every sound of the forest the voice of a dead brother in arms, haunting his memories. Of course, it was called the "Realm of Nightmares"- such thoughts were probably an inseparable part of it.

Even Hyperion seemed uneasy as they began to clean up the makeshift camp that morning, the wyvern had eaten much less than he had thought. He could not help wondering if perhaps he wasn't the only one remembering the other riders the two of them had grown up alongside, and he could not help approaching the wyvern. It was on very few occasions that Hyperion had needed to be urged to eat, but at least he was touching more of the food- Heath could feel at least a slight bit relieved.

The others were up as well- that injured knight in full armor had still been recovering, so they had left rations at the entrance to his makeshift tent. But now he was also awake, having just returned the now-disassembled shelter to a bag at his horse's saddles.

The black armored knight stopped, glancing around with a slow but steady motion, and Heath felt himself freeze as the glowing red gaze behind the skull fell upon himself, as if death itself stood before him. The others had noticed too, and if they had been occupied, they had ceased any movement, only staring back at the knight.

Kasumi was the first to break the stillness, moving forward a bit towards the knight. She looked about to speak, but suddenly looked away, hands held to her chest in a tight squeeze, as if to calm herself.

"Sir Death Knight." Laegjarn's voice now cut the silence, giving a respectful nod towards the knight. In truth, the appearance had startled her at first, but she held no ill will towards the knight of a distant land. His habits may have been bloody, and visage intimidating, but she had seen much blood in the many battles under Muspell. Besides, there was something different about this person- she was much more strongly reminded of her sister than her father, though the reaper knight's weapon did seem to resemble his much more.

"I believe you have news from the Order's base in Askr, if you would be ready to share it." Her tone was polite, but all the while she felt herself growing apprehensive on the news. It could not help but stir feelings of times when Laevetain had been assigned alone on a dangerous mission, and the dreadful worry she had felt of not knowing if her sister would return from them alive.

The knight gave a nod, pausing before speaking. "I was instructed to send news to your group by Prince Hrid of Nifl." His tone was unchanging, not hesitating on the name of the person he barely knew. There was no difference to him between some foreign prince or anyone else- if they fell in battle their blood would all surely be the same.
"He has been staying in the order with the priestess- dragon Idunn. But they have both vanished from Askr."

At the words the knight observed the group through the deathly helm- their surprise was not hidden at all. They seemed to show it in different ways- some with audible gasps, others, like the dagger wielding man and the tome wielding assassin, more subtlely with just a shift in expression. It mattered not to him- his task was only to deliver the information.

However, he felt compelled to continue.

"There were signs of a struggle, but no bloodshed and not much injury. With the Order's royal commanders away, there was not much reason to expend resources at the moment."
The silence hung heavy in the air, but Kasumi finally spoke in a soft voice.

"Hrid..."

She had worried about this- something in the prince had seemed different as of late. He was clearly troubled by something- that had surely been his reason for staying behind. Perhaps Loki's harsh words towards her had hurt Hrid as well- that had surely been the start of it, she tried to recall. That he had been made to suffer for something not even meant for him.....

"Kasumi!" Delthea's voice sounded close to her, and she felt the shorter girl lean into her side. The gesture was kind, but somehow her thoughts would not return, stuck somewhere else under this new cloud of worry. It was just like...... just like something...... had it been a dream?

Yes! She'd seen it- it must have not been too long ago. Hrid, taken somewhere she had never seen before, in danger and in pain. And the one that had shown that frightful sight to her.... the dark elf, Plumeria!

"Kasumi." Ursula's voice rang in her ears, her tone was controlled and cool but had something of concern in it.

If she could just meet Plumeria again.... she must know something more! And if she asked nicely, or begged her, maybe the dark elf would help her? She had to believe- they were in the realm of the dark elves, after all. There must be some chance, however slim.

And what had happened to Idunn, also? She had only seen Hrid in the dream- was something just as awful happening to her as well? Or was it not- by some miracle could she be safe somewhere? She would beg Plumeria time and time again if only she could know about those two!

"Miss Kasumi!" Heath's voice rang, mingling with the others, and as her vision cleared the healer could see she was not standing alone now. Delthea tugged at her capelet gently, a worried and urgent look in her brown eyes that softened as she met them. Ursula's gaze also regained its coolness at contact, a slight smile flitting onto her purple lips with more concern than she usually showed. Heath gave a honest smile, worry still clouding his eyes as he removed his hand from Kasumi's shoulder with a hint of an embarrassed blush starting at his face. Kaze's eyes lingered a moment, before closing with a nod, confidence and belief in his posture.

And Laegjarn- Kasumi met her red eyes with confidence, and the look could not help but draw the former Muspell general in even more. The healer had changed so much in just a year, she could not help but think. There was confidence there- something so genuine, something she had made for herself. It made something in Laegjarn's chest feel at ease just to meet that gaze.

"Everyone... thank you." Kasumi's tone was steady. "I'm sorry to have worried you. But I promise, we will find them and if they need it, save them. I won't let.... I won't let them down." She said it half to convince herself, but she actually felt convinced at those words- it was a surprising and new feeling, not like anything from before.

The Death Knight stood apart from the others, turning as if to leave once his news was delivered. But Kasumi could not help remembering that sight from before- the broken sound in his voice as if his heart had been shattered by something. Perhaps he had been subject to one of the nightmares of this realm- or something even worse.

She stepped forward, running to catch the gauntleted hand in her own gloved one. The knight stopped, and the skull gaze looked down at her. She met it without hesitation.
"You too, Death Knight. I won't let any of you down." She turned, looking back to the others. "We can do this- together." It was as if in that moment any doubt had dissipated completely.

And it was enough for the knight to comply, and a set of black armored boots followed after her own footsteps.

It was the third time now. That's what Kasumi thought as she drew near the clearing. Just like it had been in the realm of nightmares, the grass in the Askr field was terribly torn where the battle had taken place, as if the blood spilled had ravaged even the land itself.

When she first arrived, she thought that person had already breathed her last. But the shallow heaves of her chest snapped the healer out of her shock, and she ran forward, despite the dropping feeling in her chest that told her without a doubt she was too late.

Plumeria wasn't as badly injured as Laegjarn had been on that terrible day. With only a few scrapes and bruises from the battle, in the past she would have been happy to have faith in the dark elf's survival. But something still told Kasumi without a doubt she would not be able to leave the empty battlefield alive, even as she raised her staff in vain, crouching as she held the woman's body close to her own.

"Y-you're here...." The voice that spoke was ragged and hoarse, as if every word was excruciating to speak. Judging by the state of the aftermath, it probably was.
Despite the dread and hopelessness, the words from the one who was considered the Order's enemy made Kasumi smile. "Yes. I'm here, Plumeria."

The red eyes met hers with defiance, a deathly shade already starting over them, before the white haired alfr broke her gaze, turning her head away with a wince. Kasumi couldn't help making a sound of shock, and began to move to adjust her position- any way it might relieve Plumeria of unnecessary pain.

"Why..... Why did you come back? The Order.... those other... filthy mortals..... are long gone..."

Kasumi's heart dropped again. She would have expected as much- their goals were different from hers, after all. The defeat of an enemy leader was nothing more than a step forward, someone who deserved to be struck down.

"You're..." Kasumi started, but she found herself unsure what to say next. They weren't friends, that was for sure. They were barely even acquaintances. But yet, she felt something since they had met- something she couldn't particularly say. Of course, Plumeria was beautiful, undoubtedly so, but it was more than just an attraction to looks.

As if reading her thoughts, the dark elf scoffed. "You... mortals.... all think alike.... only interested... in one... thing..." Her voice was bitter, but there was something just a bit teasing in it, and as Kasumi made a startled sound, she gave a soft chuckle- one that rattled in her chest, but did not detract from the slight softening of her expression.

"I'm... just teasing...." Her eyes turned, an odd shade of surprise and contemplation passing over them. "I... wonder why, though....."

The look of pain returned shortly, however, and the alfr's body was wracked with coughs. Although she shook violently, Kasumi could tell it was of not her own strength, and that she did not have much time.

"Plumie!" She dropped the staff- every healing spell had been useless, and she wanted to be there for that person no matter what- even if it would only be for a moment longer. The shortened name slipped her tongue, but it felt natural in that instant.

"You.... no, Kasumi..... that... is your name...." The dark elf's voice was fading fast, eyes already slipping out of focus. "Your... dreams are your own...."

"You must...."

The signs of the battle were clear, and it was with ease that the group was able to find it. Kaze was a bit relieved that Delthea was least aware of the marks of the terrible battle- she hopefully would have little experience of such things, and though they would not say readily, so were Ursula and Death Knight.

Laegjarn led the way, however- these signs were the most clear to her, they were as familiar as a trail for a past general of Surtr. But she hardly noticed them- only worry about Kasumi clouded her thoughts as she pushed forward. Already the news about Hrid weighed heavy on her. If he hadn't chosen to stay behind- if they had been more vigilant- if only she had been stronger! But she knew those doubts and regrets would make no difference. Protecting those she cared about- in this moment and every other- would.

When she came to the clearing, she could see Kasumi crouched on the ground. She called out the healer's name, starting to rush forward before something stopped her. The scene- something of it- it felt so unsettling. As if she was somewhere else- as if she had seen it before and felt she should be somewhere else.

Kasumi stood, but despite the fact there was no one or nothing save her healing staff, it felt as if she should have been next to someone's fallen form. The healer's eyes met hers, and she could see they were tinged a slight pink, like she had been crying.

But this time was different. The feeling in her eyes was changed- it was not a look of despair. Instead, it was something more determined. A serious but gentle look that seemed to fit her perfectly.

"Kasumi-" Kaze began. There was a shade of guilt on his face, and Laegjarn wondered if he may have felt- or known- about that unsettling feeling she had felt just moments ago.

"Everyone." Kasumi's hands tightened on the grip of her staff, a steadying gesture but one now with fiery determination.

"Thank you." The gentleness on her expression grew, eyes traveling to meet all of the gazes that rested on her. "I'm so glad to be here with all of you."

"But there's something I still need to do." The looks were serious. "I've gotta see this through. I have to find out what's happened."

The group met each others' gazes, as if the determination had been transmitted with just a look.

"We all do." Laegjarn's voice was firm, but it was met with the nods and confident looks of all of the others, her red eyes meeting the gazes of them as she spoke.

Kasumi could not help but smile wider, despite the hot feeling in her head as she felt the tears fall. But they were not those wholly of sadness and mourning- they were of happiness at the people she cared about, the happiness they had that she would protect. All of them, from the past and the present.

Even you, Plumie.

"The prince is dead. You will never see him again."
The summoner heard those words, and he blinked, eyes downcast. The feet he could see below were not his own- that much was a terrible nightmare. Everything of his body felt changed- altered, in the worst possible way.

Those words, on the other hand- they were the farthest from a nightmare.

The queen of the realm of Dokkalfr stood before him, and with the eyes that were not his own, the summoner- no, Ichihara, met hers. It was odd, he couldn't help thinking. Forced to be in the body of the one he disliked so, he was finally feeling the confidence to stand up for himself. But despite the discomfort, he would not let himself stop.

"Funny you should say that, Your Majesty." The voice, too- it was not his own. That voice, which had often gloated so smugly towards defeated enemies that were soon to be slain by others- it was a sound that made his skin crawl. But he could not stop- he mustn't. So he spoke in that voice, as lowly and as free of emotion as possible.

"Because that sounds like a good dream to me."

Nothing had changed- at least in a way. No matter what he said it seemed the Queen of Nightmares could not hear- or refused to hear- a single thing. He had felt the same way many a time- ever since he had been drawn from that hopeless battlefield to the Order's shining golden gates and empty words of order and peace. He had had no voice- so he had long ago given up even trying.

But he would not give up now. The ones he cared deeply for might be gone, but he would not let the memories of them die as well.

He had no real option but to stay with the Queen, her words changing at every passing moment. One second regretful- one second enraged. He felt uncomfortable with this- in this body, with this person he hardly knew. If this was a dream- even a good one where the leaders of the Order were forever out of his life- he wanted it to end.

And as if willed by his thoughts, it did.

There was grass beneath her body, and Kasumi felt the drops of morning dew upon her face as she blinked her eyes awake. The view around her was not completely unknown- it looked to be in the vicinity of the Order of Heroes' base. What had she been doing to fall asleep in such a place....?

Then she remembered in a flash- there had been some sort of sleep spell within the borders of Askr- Idunn...... they had looked for a way to awaken her.....

A gloved hand to her head, she could feel the memories returning, as after a restful sleep remembering the responsibilities of the new day. There had been something else..... Hrid! He had been in danger. Someone had shown it to her... was it just a dream? That person, too...

"Plumie...." The name left her lips without a conscious thought, and at the sound of it she felt her heart ache. It was like when she thought of Lord Izana, or that awful day when she thought she had seen Laegjarn for the last time.

The memories were foggy and vague, like they were lost in a mist. But she still had the feeling, as clear as day, and that was enough to keep the last misty tendrils of those important memories.

She stood up, looking around. She had been there with the others too- they'd joined her without hesitation, despite how much trouble she'd caused them the previous year. Delthea, Ursula, Kaze, Heath, Laegjarn... even Death Knight. They must- they must be safe! She would not let them be hurt any more!

But then shouts reached her ears as she turned, relief flooding her at the sight of the companions in arms she had been so worried for- safe and approaching her with relief in their eyes as well.

"Kasumi!" Delthea ran forward, pulling her into a tight hug that almost caused Kasumi to lose her balance as she hugged the mage back.

"Delthea! I'm so glad you're alright."

"You look like you're still in one piece, that's good." Ursula's voice was cool as ever as she looked Kasumi over, but there was still a sliver of relief in her eyes. "It's vexing... I can't think of how we must have ended up here." The assassin placed a finger to her lip, eyes turning shadowy with thought.

"But everyone seems to be here, and safe. That's good." Heath approached with a small smile, but he still glanced around cautiously. At his side Hyperion followed, shaking the dew off his scales in an almost doglike manner.

"Hm. That's awfully optimistic of you to say." The assassin replied in a cold voice, expression shifting slightly from the slight smile and nod she had given in response to Delthea's wave. "It is only by luck that we were not ambushed in a surprise attack."

"Do not worry." As if carried on the breeze, Kaze stepped out from the shadows of a nearby tree. "I have just finished scouting the area, there seems to be no one else here but us." His eyes were serious as he relayed the information, but that could not hide the gentle and caring ease in them. "This grove is a bit far from the Order of Heroes' base, but if we start there now we should arrive within an hour."

Like a statue the Death Knight had stood still, but as he turned his head he gave a slight sigh, a melancholy sound that Kasumi could not help feel resonating with. Idunn.... would she still be at the Order's base? Not to mention everyone else there- would anything worse have happened to all of them? She could feel the old paranoia that had only now changed to wary cautiousness threaten to return. No, she couldn't- not after the trust everyone had given her. She would not let them down- she must not! That is what she thought desperately as she tried to keep positive thoughts. Everyone here was safe, that was good! But her thoughts could not help returning to the uncertain fate of Idunn and Hrid.

Suddenly, a horse's whinny broke the silence. Her eyes turned to Zitronnen, the usually quiet horse was turning his head, nudging at Kasumi and stamping uneasily. Ursula and Death Knight's horses seemed equally stirred, and Hyperion batted his wings along with Laegjarn's wyvern.

The group's attention was suddenly averted to a shade of purple under the trees, drawing closer to the group. The wyverns and horses' noises settled, and they instead turned, just as their human companions did, to look undisturbed at the approaching figure.

It couldn't be- it was too good to be true. Was this another dream? Kasumi could not stop the tears in her eyes, despite how much she tried.

And when the eyes of green and red met hers she knew she could not hold back.

"Idunn!"

Chapter Text

Everything seemed to happen in a fog around her, the dragon priestess could not help but think. First their voices- ringing in her ears as Kasumi and the others approached in a rush. That healer first... the concern in her eyes was her own, but something seemed so familiar, as if it was the ghost of a memory lost long ago. And all around the others crowded- the stern but kind wyvern general, the young mage with the honest tongue, the mercenary from King Zephiel's homeland whose voice shone with worry and guilt. Even the three that stayed towards the back of the group- the ninja and the assassin, and the one cloaked in skeletal armor that she had not seen before- had care, shadowed as it was, to them.

The sound of voices echoed in her ears, but it was not a bad sound- far from it. In fact, there was something welcoming to it, something that made a feeling stir within her.
She felt the need to speak those exact words later, as the healer's gloved hand clutched hers warmly and securely, not wavering for a moment.

"Thank you."

She had wanted to say that then..... it was as if the memory had left her. There were other memories as well, but she felt as if that one was the most recent. There had been a woman with broken eyes who she had faced against, and when she had she had felt as if she had been asleep just as in Elibe for so many years. But now she was awake- that was sure to her.

And there was something else. Something worrying- though she could not completely tell what. But she could tell it was fast approaching.

Unfortunately, it struck before she could even speak.

Delthea blinked, eyes adjusting in a daze. What had happened- hadn't she just been there with Kasumi and the others? Idunn was there too- she was safe and awake and seemed very much herself without a doubt. But now all of them- all of it- was gone.

As if she was in a dark place, her vision began to grow more clear. That view she knew- it was the sluice gates of Valentia, the ones leading to Rigel. She had been there before, but she could not, and did not want to recall much of that time- it was when she had first joined the army of the boy who would one day become the Emperor.

Of course, there was a good reason why she did not want to recall it. But she had little time to stew on those awful memories- other feelings, strong and overwhelming, were soon replacing them as the oh so familiar silhouette shifted into view through the mist.

"Lu- is that really you?"

She ran towards him, not bothering to mask the happy excitement in her voice. At the moment she didn't care- she had so much to tell him! With all she'd done he'd surely have no reason to boss her around any more!

But she stopped as the mist cleared. His face seemed angry, if not partly obscured.

"Delthea." Something in his tone was off- it was stern and scolding, as if confronting her after she had skipped practicing. But it was unnerving slightly- she was almost inclined to doubt if it was really him.

"Why did you run away from home?" Memories of that day resurfaced, and any doubts and hesitation was replaced by terror as those moments seemed to flash before her yet again. Those mages with Duma's group.... the threats and cruel laughter, and the moment she had ceased to control herself, as if she had been completely cut off from everything.

"Why....? Why.....?" Luthier's voice grew louder, and she did not register if it was his own any more. She could barely make out the scene before her, much less that person drawing nearer and nearer, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"Why!" His voice was such a deathly cry that she could not help but meet his eyes- and then she gasped, frozen in a horrible shock.

That face- the one that had always been so full of life, so unflinching- was covered in bruises and blood. His clothes were torn and hair disheveled, and limbs bent at unnatural angles. His eyes were desperate, and she could see in horror that the light of life was leaving them.

"Why.... did you kill me....."

Her brother crumpled to the ground, and Delthea felt her body shake, before finally letting out a gut-wrenching scream.

The sight was familiar to Ursula- that church within the kingdom of Bern. She had been sent there on an assassination mission- a fateful one, regrettably. But it was still night now. Perhaps, just perhaps.... this would be a second chance.

"You'd run back to your precious little boss if you could". That memory returned in a flash, Clarisse's angry and accusatory glare with it. The Blue Crow pursed her lips in slight irritation. Was it really the time to ponder this, here and now? But her thoughts did not seem to be leaving. It was true, her life in the Order was much different than it had been in Elibe, and meeting that little group was the sole reason for anything gained in it. But even still....

"Ursula." She knew that voice, although something of it made her feel just a touch off. But she did not think twice as she turned around, assuming a low bow.

"Lady Sonia. I am ready for my mission." She looked down- that was without a doubt the form of Lady Sonia, the one she had served faithfully in the Black Fang.

The Lady's laugh caught her by surprise, and with regret she felt a heavy guilt start in her chest- she must be too late. No matter, she would take the punishment without question. She had failed all that time ago, and failure was not accepted in the Fang.

But instead, the Lady only continued speaking, voice full of scorn.

"Your mission? Did you forget? You have failed. You couldn't even kill a traitorous little girl. And now....." Ursula did not want to look up, but with a growing horror she felt as though she could not stop herself. Sonia was different- her body was losing its poise, crumpling to the ground as she bled, clutching her face and the wounds covering her body.

"Now all of the Black Fang is dead. Now.... I am dead" She spat the words with the last breath of life, and Ursula could not help those imperfect tears from welling in her own eyes as she stumbled backwards.

Heath knew that village- it was the very day he had left Bern, never to return. He knew that scene- the villagers, terrified and unarmed, forced into the center of the shabby town to await their execution by his squad. And the faces around him, honest and good comrades in arms he had long since parted with forever- they were all alive and well again. He felt as though he might cry at the sight, but the pride and hope welling in his chest kept his posture together.

He would see this through, even if it was just a memory.

Not everything was pleasant about that memory, of course, as the voice of the leader cruelly rang in his ears as the people shuddered, huddling together feebly.

Where was Commander Vaida? She should be there, telling off the one who had ordered their attack. But she was not- something was wrong. Very wrong.

The people cried in terror, and Heath could not keep silent. The words of the Commander he remembered well, and spoke them with confidence, even as his heart wavered. Where was she- whatever could be happening. What... what was this?

The leader stepped forward, and Heath's eyes focused on him for the first time. That face, that bearing- it couldn't be. At the time, His Highness would be but a boy- and not a king, but Prince..... Zephiel?

The heir's voice was stoic, as it had been when Heath had seen him in the Order's grounds. Those cruel orders- they could not be his.

"Very well. If you would betray us...." He gestured, and a new figure stepped forward. At first Heath did not remember, but then in a terrible moment it registered with him. That armor- that posture- he did not want to meet that familiar face but he could not bear to look away.

"Commander Vaida.....?"

She did not speak, only readying her spear. And then she lunged forward in attack.

All of this was wrong- so wrong. Heath did not want to fight her, not here or ever. He had been prepared to when he followed her to leave Bern, and when he joined the forces of Eliwood's army later still. But this- this was more than just that. She would not allow this slaughter- she was the one who had opposed it- she was the commander that he and the others had been ready to give their lives for.

"Vaida? Why?" He cried out, but only the sickening piercing of armor and flesh met his ears as a response.

He could not stop staring as the commander's body motionlessly left the bloody end of his spear, collapsing lifelessly to the ground. It was as if his gaze was frozen to that horrible sight as his ears rang, screaming in horror and despair.

"With their masters gone, the nightmares- the last remnants of regret and negative feelings manifested by them- have no guidance. But they seek, as if by instinct, those whose feelings resonate with their cores."

Kasumi whirled around, desperately searching in the darkness.

"Who said that?" But somehow, the voice seemed too familiar- too undoubtedly familiar.

And then she saw him, stepping out of the shrouding fog. He was taller now- much so. She had heard of such in the accounts of the Order and their battles- the shadowy, monstrous Rokkr. But she never expected to see one of anyone she knew well- least of all Hrid.

But there he was, icy blue eyes just about frozen over, as if void of any feeling whatsoever.

"Welcome, Kasumi." His voice spoke her name, but seemed not to register anything. "This is your nightmare."

She had leapt upon Zitronnen, and the horse had followed her lead. But even with the speed, the Rokkr was much bigger, and her healing magic fell weakly against the sword wielded by the gigantic Rokkr- it was not Gjoll, and seemed as contrary to Hrid as the frozen look in his eyes. She had known something bad had happened with him- how had that been? Someone..... someone had told her..... or rather, had shown her.....

The thoughts shadowed her like storm clouds, and she did not see the blade crashing down until it was too late. The force threw her from Zitronnen's back, and the horse reared in surprise. That whinny caught her attention, and she forced herself into a bracing position as she landed, gritting her teeth through the scrapes and bruises as she held her staff up desperately. This... was a nightmare? She would willingly believe that, but the pain- it felt too real.

"Your dreams are your own." Who had said that? Someone.... someone had....

"Plumie....." Her voice trailed off, and she could not help the tears from welling- tears she had fought to hold back since that fateful day she had walked in on the sick room to see Idunn's unconscious form.

"I'm sorry!" She cried in apology as the shadowy energy of the Rokkr's attack flooded around her. "I..... I can't fight....."

"But we can!"

Someone- had someone spoken? Kasumi braced herself, forcing herself to follow that sound- had she just imagined it? But something flickered before her eyes- a person wearing a mage's coat, arms raised in a spell. And another form- one on horseback, wielding a lance unflinchingly. Who- who were they? She blinked, hoping to make out a better view, but the visions were gone, engulfed in the shadows.

But she was not done either- it was as if a new strength was welling in her, and Kasumi forced herself to her feet.

"I- I won't give up on you." Those words were honest, and Kasumi didn't try to stop the tears from flowing. "So..... if I have to... I will fight you, Hrid!"

The healer pushed forward one step at a time, forcing herself to move against the rush of dark energy. But even over the roaring in her head and all around, the rustling of cloaks- unmistakable to her ear- caught her attention. She almost dared not hope, but turned in spite of herself.

And there she was- the Dark Priestess herself, gaze of red and green steadily blazing ahead.

"Idunn!" The dragon blinked, eyes moving unhindered to meet Kasumi's.

"Let's keep onwards. This will pass, the more we fight it." Her words were quiet but filled with a soft determination and sureness. Kasumi nodded, pressing another step forwards.

"Kasumi! And Hrid too, huh. Well, no matter!" Her head turned as Delthea approached, a smile on the mage's face. "I'm with you too." There was something undoubtedly serious in her eyes, and Kasumi returned it with a nod and a smile.

One more step.

"What.... is that The Prince?" Heath's voice was shocked, but his gaze steadied as he looked over the others. "My spear is yours- all of yours." His voice shifted- determination replacing initial startledness as his posture shifted, moving to Hyperion's back in one trained motion.

And just a bit more. It seemed to get easier with every familiar voice.

"Lady-" The assassin's shocked voice calmed with deep sighs that grew more restrained with every breath. "Excuse me." The Blue Crow's eyes assesed the group before looking up at the monstrously large Prince of Nifl. "So, it has ended like this after all. Do not expect me to hold back." Her voice was serious, but though ruthless it did not seem as cruel as it could be.

Kaze's arrival was as silent as he was, but his voice reached Kasumi before she could see him. "Do not worry, these shadows are suitable for me. I am with you, and will not falter- not now or again." And his voice was sure of that as well. All the same, Kasumi smiled at the direction his voice came from, another worry lifted from her chest.

"You... all of you. How strange." The voice rang in that eerie, unreadable way, but it was surely that Reaper's. The armored hoofsteps confirmed it even before Kasumi could see the knight. "Are we to slay this.... shadow? If so, it is yours to do." The Death Knight raised his scythe, but it seemed not a premonition of death- it was something much more like a shield to protect in that gesture.

"Kasumi! Thank goodness..." The flapping of wings was so familiar, and Kasumi looked to her side with great relief.

"Laegjarn!" The wyvern rider met her eyes with a smile full of comfort, but then both of their gazes turned to the giant.

"So this is a Rokkr...." Laegjarn's voice was serious, but as contemplative as it was it was tinged with sorrow. "I never wanted to fight against you again, Prince Hrid....."

Kasumi looked around- it was as if the purple shadows had cleared just enough for the small group to make out each other in the fog.

"Is it really..... I thought Rokkrs were different from the people they resemble." Heath asked, even as his hands gripped the spear and Hyperion's reins tightly.

"I believe that is usually so." Idunn's reply was serious. "But this.... this is the Prince that we all are familiar with."

It was a despairing phrase, but Idunn had been there with Hrid- if anyone would know, she would. Did she-

"I am sorry. I do not recall more than that." Her voice, so steady and serious, sounded crestfallen and broken in that instant, and Kasumi moved forward, putting her hand in Idunn's once more.

"It's okay, Idunn." Delthea sounded comforting, just a bit different from her usual cheery tone. "It's great you can tell us all you have." There was something that seemed more than just sympathy- as if she knew the same experience.

"So, I suppose we must hold our own. If there is no way...."

It couldn't be- they couldn't! Hrid..... they must have a way to save him. She couldn't give up on him- not if he was still there, in front of her!

She had to believe in him.

"Your dreams are your own.... nightmares, pleasant dreams, everything in between.... if you accept them....." Was that what she had said? She had looked at Kasumi with so much fervent intensity, even as her body weakly shivered in the healer's arms.

"If you want to save anyone, you must accept them."

If there were still nightmares, and they had connected to the negative energy of the Rokkr, just maybe......

And Kasumi could recall clearly now- that dank and miserable dungeon cell from that vision, and its painfully familiar occupant.

"Hrid!" Her voice was her own- it rang out in the dusky cell as she ran forward. The prince's clothes were tattered, and as she forced his head up from the hard brick floor, she could see the despair in those icy eyes- it was despair, but not that frozen blank look of the Rokkr. Hrid was still there.

"I...." His voice was a hoarse cough, full of pain and guilt as his face shadowed with shame. "I failed.... everyone. Mother..... Gunnthra.... Fjorm.... Ylgr..... All of Nifl."

"Hrid." Kasumi held him closer, brushing the dirt-soaked bangs from his forehead. His body shivered with the cold air of the dungeon meeting the exposed cuts and bruises, and with the silent sobs he could not stop himself from crying.

"You.... Laegjarn..... Idunn... and everyone else. I have failed you too." His voice was even more broken, fading away without any hope. "Even here, I...."

"I believe in you!" Kasumi spoke in sudden urgency, and she held the prince by his tattered shoulders. The broken eyes of ice blue met her own in wounded surprise, and she could not break the gaze even as her own tears began to fall.

"I believe in you!" She repeated, giving a squeeze to his shoulders as if hoping it would bring some comfort. "You're someone I care about... you're someone really important to me. I believe in you- I love you. So... don't give up. Believe in yourself, too." She spoke honestly, and did not break away from those ice blue eyes, broken as they were, that seemed as though they too were melting.

"Believe in yourself!" The sensation was like waking- but it was too soon! Hrid- he had... he had to.....

Kasumi reeled backwards, and she could hear the voices around her. But then, a deafening cry broke through it all, and she stared upward at its source. The Rokkr, towering above, was lurching unsteadily, letting out a shout in that voice too familiar but too distorted and loud. And then, as if broken, the purple mist exploded around them, rushing like waves of a violent ocean in the air.

And when the smoke had cleared, standing in the field of Askr near the Order of Heroes' base, was- completely untouched, as if nothing had even scratched his armor- Prince Hrid of Nifl.

Kasumi stayed frozen a moment, disbelief flooding through her. Then the prince's body swayed unsteadily, as if his legs would give out at any moment. The healer rushed forward, and many more footsteps met her ears as she did so, hands meeting the prince's torso as the two dropped to a kneeling position.

"Hrid?" His head lolled, but he was still conscious. Eyes blinking, as if to stay awake, his head slowly tilted upwards.

Whe he spoke, his voice sounded broken from disuse. "......Kasumi...?" The ice blue eyes met hers with concern, scanning the faces around him. "Laegjarn... Idunn..... everyone....? Why....."

"Uh, hello?" Delthea replied with a tone that sounded much closer to her usual snark. "You thought we wouldn't notice or be worried about- huh, what was it you did, anyways?" She tilted her head. "Well, it's in the past, now. You gotta focus on recovering now."

Kaze gave a nod, stepping forward to offer one shoulder to prop up Hrid. "Delthea is right. We should head back to the Order without delay." He steadied his stance, but met the prince's eyes with comfort- a forwardness that perhaps he would not have been inclined to show when the Nifl prince first met him. "I am relieved that you are safe, Your Majesty."

"How are you feeling, Hrid?" Laegjarn's tone was concerned, and in that moment Hrid could feel no regrets, no guilt towards her- only a gentle camaraderie.

"I... don't feel any injuries. But I appreciate your care. Thank you, Laegjarn." He spoke in reply, not noticing that he did not hesitate now as he met the red eyes with his own.

"You sure you don't want me and Hyperion to fly ahead? I can try to find a healer or someone to help," Heath offered, concern in his eyes as he glanced at Hrid, gaze flickering to Kasumi as if unsure if he should offer to help prop Hrid up in her place.

"It's... very kind of you." Hrid spoke, meeting the wyvern rider's grey eyes. He had been so hard working- Hrid hadn't spoken with him long before, but there was an earnest kindness in his actions and words. "I... would appreciate your company just as much." He tried to keep his gaze to the others, but he felt as though he could barely keep his eyes open.

A soft laugh reached his ears, and he forced some energy to follow it.

It was Ursula, as he had thought. She replied in a cool voice, as if suspecting his thoughts. "Don't worry. It's just.. the thought still amuses me. That you thought yourself capable of an assassination. But... in a way, it is an amusing, that fruitless but determined one. I suppose, on you that is." Her words would have been harsh, had Hrid not met the assassin's cold gaze- that cold gaze seemed warmer than he thought. "But there are many other things you can do, and superbly." A rare bit of praise, Hrid could not help but think as exhaustion overtook him.

"Hrid?"

"Hrid!"

He was unconscious as they lifted him gently towards the barracks- even as the Death Knight had gone on ahead to fetch the prince's Nifl steed- and after the knight had returned, a purple cloaked stranger by his side who had newly arrived in the Order's grounds from the continent of Magvel.

When Hrid next felt consciousness regain its hold on him, he was in a place that seemed familiar. It was a warm, comforting feeling- the feeling of home.... it couldn't be....?

"Mother!" He sat up with a shout, not yet registering the pain, but when his eyes blinked into focus it was not the frosted interior of the Nifl capitol that awaited him but the humble barracks of another far off, if not unfamiliar, land.

Even as he felt the sorrow grip him, there was something else- something that was new to him, yet comforting all the same. The ones who perished- the land he had grown up in- all of it was gone. But this place- this place was not lost.

His eyes scanned around, and met the concerned ones of the healer that had suddenly opened wide at the prince's movement.

"Kasumi.....?" He could feel his voice cracking, but he could not break the gaze.

Suddenly the healer moved forwards, gloved hands gripping his own tightly, squeezing them as if to make sure he was really there.

"Hrid! Are you alright? How are you feeling?" And then he remembered- something horrible had happened to Idunn- he had felt unworthy to accompany Kasumi, Laegjarn and the others after he had been unable to do anything that day Loki had tormented the healer at the last days of Askr's assault on the realm of the dead. How he had felt- disgusted and ashamed at himself most of all, especially after the worry he felt changed to bitter guilt at his own lack of trust of his now comrades.

He remembered something else- something that was also bitter and shameful, that made his eyes break from Kasumi's gaze and hesitate to meet it again. But what it was he could not recall- only that it had ended. So he willed himself to meet that look- it was not one of disgust, or abhorrence or disappointment, or anything he had been expecting.
Instead he leaned into the touch, giving a murmur of affirmation.

"Is.... everyone?" His words were quiet, reluctant.

"Yes." Kasumi spoke in a gentle tone as she put a hand gently to his shoulder. "Idunn is fine- she's being checked over by Knoll- he'd had a similar thing happened in his world, and was more than willing to help."

"Knoll....?" Hrid asked in a quiet tone. How long had he been unconscious, he wondered.

"Ah, that's right. He just arrived in Askr when we all got back- he's from a place called Magvel. The leaders of the Order are away at the moment, so...." Her voice trailed off with uncertainty, and Hrid could not help feeling a shiver of worry creep into his body as well- there always seemed to be a new conflict, a new war that costed the lives of many. He may have been involved in one- his weakness may have cost many their lives- but he would not let it happen again if he had any strength at all. And he would... he had to see to that.

His hand gripped the gloved one back in a determined squeeze, but the sound of the door opening made him jump, severing him from the thoughts as he felt a new wave of exhaustion sweep through his body.

"Ah, that's them now- Knoll, how was Idunn?" Kasumi stood up, her voice worried but gentle at the same time. Even so, her hand did not leave Hrid's, steadying him to a lying position on the cot.

"Lady Idunn seems to not have any injuries, nor does she seem to be under any control." He did not recognize the serious voice that spoke, nor the bit of swishing purple robes he could make out.

There was a slight uncertain silence before Kasumi spoke again, kneeling down to Hrid's face.

"Hrid, do you mind if Knoll has a quick check of you? Just to make sure there's no control of the Rokkr- or the nightmares- or anything else anymore?" He focused his gaze as the hand gently brushed his hair from his brow, and Hrid could make out a man with a morose look and purple hair next to Kasumi. The stranger had a serious look to him, but just as unmistakable was the concern on his face- a concern that showed something much more personal at this sight. Hrid gave a nod, trying to hide the exhaustion as much as he could, but he could already feel himself losing consciousness once more.

Idunn waited in the room adjacent to the small group's sleeping quarters. She somehow didn't feel too tired, despite everything that had happened. The mage- Knoll- had checked her with magic that seemed impartial and thorough, yet soothing all the same. He was somewhat of a researcher in his own world, and he seemed just as dutiful in it despite only arriving in the base of the Order moments ago.

"Thank you for your patience. I have recorded everything." The mage spoke in that same serious tone, but he could not hide the hint of relief in his voice from Idunn's ears.
"And... the results." She spoke, though she felt she knew them already.

"No one- or nothing- has any control over you or Prince Hrid. I will let your companions know in detail in this report."

"They are just inside the next room." What an odd human. "Why do you not simply tell them?" He seemed different than other mortals, more closed-off despite his evident care.
The man looked a bit reluctant, eyes shifting down before he spoke. "Hearing such news from a dark mage such as myself... it would not be pleasant."

"You do know that I am known as the 'Demon Dragon'", Idunn said, and there was something odd in her own tone- this 'teasing' perhaps she had picked up from Delthea and the others. However, it felt only natural.

The man seemed a bit surprised, even as he tried to hide it, but his eyes lifted, meeting the Dark Priestess' ones for a moment before returning to his notes once more. "I... if they really would not mind, I will deliver it in person. It is quite important news."

Knoll went to the door, not completely free of doubts but somewhat assuaged, to his own surprise. What odd company for him to meet in this world- but their plight was something he could not just sit and watch from a distance. The memory of that chamber under Grado was too fresh in his mind, especially as they had recounted the occurrence they called "Rokkr". It seemed all too clear why he had been called into this place. He had thrown himself into the research, but only now was realizing the strange feeling- they seemed to have no distrust of him whatsoever, despite being a stranger and more, a dark mage. Perhaps in this place he wasn't a condemned traitor, but still- it was a shocking change from that dungeon cell.

Behind him the cloaked dragon woman followed, but she did not seem upset by the sight within even as he gasped- the three of them- the healer and the wyvern rider princess, hands clasped tightly as they slept, the hands of the sleeping ice prince in the cot intertwined with the other two. And on their faces- looks of a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

The place was unknown- it was nowhere in Askr, he was sure of it, nor was it of any of the other worlds they had encountered in the company of the Order of Heroes. Even if it had been a place he had know, Prince Hrid would have been wary- something in the air felt off, very strikingly so. The ruins of stone seemed so close a semblance to those in Askr, where the Summoner had often gone to, accompanied by the leaders of the army, and where he had journeyed to himself what felt like so long ago, when he had resolved to repay his debt with himself.

If he had been alone, perhaps the eerie atmosphere would have been overwhelming. But with them, the memories of that attack that he had only just regained himself from were somehow muted, halted from returning in full force to haunt his every thought.

"Hrid. It seems to be safe this way." Laegjarn's voice cut through the silence with a clear tone that seemed to remind his feet of the solid ground they were on. The former general of Muspell- the princess and heir of the kingdom of flame- turned to him, giving a discreet nod. At the moment it was as if the worries, the insecurities- all of it had vanished. There was only the fact that Laegjarn and he were on the same side, companions in arms.

That person too.

The healer from Izumo followed next to Laegjarn, looking back at Hrid with concern in her dark eyes. But when he followed, she said nothing, only giving a slight smile and a nod. But on her face there was something more serious, more grave- as if she felt something more for this unknown place more than he or Laegjarn could understand.

The wyvern general's eyes flickered- she had noticed it too. But the three continued in silence along the winding stone staircase that led to a circular platform- almost like a long destroyed parapet.

The uncanny similarities only escalated from there. Lining the walls, weathered by wind and rain but not unrecognizable, were symbols. They seemed like those of Askr, the kingdom's royal crests and legendary weapons. And one in particular- the legendary and mysterious artifact wielded solely by the one called the Summoner.

It was almost the same shape as the indentation at the center of an old stone altar- one that bore a striking similarity to that of Askr's summoning altar.

Hrid spoke before he could think, but this time he did not feel even a shade of regret or doubt after he said it.

"Don't!" The image of that person flashed to his mind- his younger sister, how the unwavering determination burned in her ice-colored eyes, but how terribly she had faltered, overcoming to the curse of the ritual she had performed. He stepped forward as if it would somehow stop that memory from coming true a second time, and this time he could see clearly the healer- that person he cared for, who had cared for him. Who had saved him.

He would not let that person-the one who he could see with a sinking heart was indeed holding that telltale relic- suffer the same fate, no matter what.

Kasumi met his eyes only for a second, and as if realizing his meaning broke away from the gaze after just a moment, wavy brown hair falling to hide her expression from sight.
"He's right. You mustn't." Kasumi turned at the touch to her shoulder, instinctively looking to the face of the wyvern rider. But though Laegjarn's tone was quiet, her red eyes were serious and unflinching, as stern and unwavering as they were filled with pain- the same pain she had felt what seemed like ages ago.

The hand at her shoulder was gentle but unrelenting, as if putting all the wish to stop her into that one touch. Laegjarn's gaze was just as determined, and like Hrid's determination as unyielding as ice, Kasumi could not bear to keep the fire of the gaze and turned away.

"I...it won't... kill me." She finally spoke in a soft voice, her own memories returning to that time years ago that had left such terrible scars on her two dear companions. She could tell their worry, and she remembered the terrible things they and their families had suffered from rites performed at places just like this in their own kingdoms.
She remembered her own previous home too... and the great sacrifice that was once made there.

The two were silent, but she could feel it in their gazes on her, the gazes she would not even, could not even, meet.

"It won't kill me..." She repeated, mustering up the last shreds of courage from the growing doubt and apprehension in her chest. "This place..... I just need to do one thing, and...." She knew- perhaps it was only intuition, but she had no doubt. That person was alone.... that person would only suffer more and more, if she could not muster the strength to go through with this.

"The person who performs this... may lose themselves."

That was the words she could make out- it had been a text she had seen somewhere in this world. It was not death- that much was clear. But it still filled her with a sense of dread.

She wondered if Hrid and Laegjarn knew that phrase as well, but somehow she felt as if they understood.

She stepped forward, but neither of them held her back. Neither of them spoke any more, and something had changed from their presence. Hesitantly the healer glanced around, but the worried gaze that met her was not an opposing one. It came now from either side of her. The two were both taller than her, but as she turned her head between the two they met her eyes without hesitation.

And together they proceeded to the altar, the heir of fire, the heir of ice, and the one who held that world's key.

The object in her hands was battered, scratched and beaten from use. It was not her own, she knew that. How she had ended up with it, in this world, she did not know. But she knew of its past- it was a tool used by those with power in that world to bring death to those with less than them.

But now, it would bring not death to those who had lost, but life.

There were many questions in Kasumi's head, but she did not care at the moment. The strength of the ones she loved at her sides, she moved forward in one motion, plunging the weapon into the indentation of the altar, the only thought in her mind of that person- seeing that person again, giving that person another chance.
And with that, the dream ended.

In the waking world the door opened, and the demon dragon and dark mage entered on the three sleeping figures, hands entwined as they slept dreamlessly.

Somehow she was alive. She should not be, she knew it, but there were other things to occupy her thoughts now. The Lady was dead- she and Triandria were still alive. All of it was wrong- it should have been the other way around. But grief and pain chased away the traces of concerns and worries from her mind.

Someone had entered- mortals, stepping foot carelessly upon the place of the dokkalfr. Even the grief and regret would have to wait, as she and her fellow dokkalfr assumed fighting stances. The mortal strangers spoke- an offer, a hope. She felt her eyes widen in astonishment-

And then, as if waking from a dream, everything faded to white.

It was a familiar sight, she could not help but think. No one's dreams were like that.... well, perhaps almost no one. But this was no dream- she was sure of it.

The white smoke dissipated, and all around her she could see mortals gathered. This was the world of those mortals- Askr. All around her they gathered, and she saw the looks on their faces as disgusting as their sick dreams.

And then she could make out that face- that person- standing away from the crowd but looking at her with wide dark eyes filled with hope. An odd, unrestrained, but not unclean, hopeful look.

"Plumie- Plumeria!"

She could not stop the smile that started, small as it was, upon her face. Nor could she stop herself from advancing from the summoning platform to the healer that stood, clutching her staff as her eyes never faltered from the dark elf.

"Kasumi."

Chapter Text

1. Recovery
"Hey Laevetain!" The Muspell princess did not need to turn, but she did all the same, relaxing her sword hand from the training stance.

"Delthea." The mage grinned at her as she approached. Perhaps it was due to her sister and Delthea both sharing quarters in the same group, but the young mage had grown to spend more and more time with her. She did not dislike it- there was a strange feeling, a sort of warmth that she had not known much of in Muspell.

The Valentian mage pushed something towards her- it had a sweet smell. "Here, I saved you one!"

"It's food. A bun." She observed.

"Yup! Made 'em in the dining hall, they're a recipe Kaze knew. They turned out pretty good!" She spoke with a cheerfulness that did not completely register to Laevetain, yet she felt herself relax. Perhaps she was hungry. She took the bun that was held to her, and thought she saw the mage's eyes grow brighter with the gesture.

The cheerful voices seemed so familiar, even from a distance, as Hrid made his way around the courtyard. He had to recover his strength, and even a short walk could be of great help for that. It still surprised him- an absolutely happy and relieved surprise- that everyone had been safe from that attack. He could not recall anything, save the despair and hopelessness he had felt, but he still could not help but feel some guilt on it. But relief at everyone's safety and his own survival overpowered that guilt and shame, no matter how strong it was. He was here now- he would make it.

"Prince Hrid." He turned, the voice had grown familiar even after only a few days. Knoll, the royal dark mage from Magvel, had offered to accompany him, and partly out of worry of his own state not endangering anyone else, he had gratefully accepted the offer. "Are you unhurt?"

The man's voice was so serious, so clearly worried. Hrid did his best to hide any pain as he replied. "I'm fine... just..." His voice trailed off as he rested against the wall, happy that the mage stopped by his side as well.

"I suppose it's just... memories of those who are gone."

The mage's face darkened, gaze turning away.

"I'm sorry. I am grateful- wholeheartedly so. Everyone has given so much for me, and that is what saved me. That is why I am here now. You also, Knoll... though you do not even know me, have been so thorough to make sure that I am well."

Knoll was silent before he replied, voice sounding far away. "I do not mean to reprimand you, Prince Hrid. Whatever you are feeling... it is out of place for me to say, but you should not hide from it." He spoke honestly, yet there was something bracing in his words, as if he was expecting to be hurt for them.

Hrid thought in silence, but when he spoke it was in a gentler tone, as if to comfort the man. "Wise words, I thank you for them. You do not mind if I speak my mind?"

The mage shook his head, but he still avoided Hrid's gaze. But the Nifl prince would not force him.

"I am from a land tied to this one, Askr, called Nifl. Not too long ago, our capitol fell to an invasion. In that war, my mother.... then, my sister.....and another sister suffered a terrible blow as well." Even in saying the words, he could see their faces. Mother... Gunnthra.... and even Fjorm. Though she was still alive, he worried more with every passing day.

Knoll was silent once more, his whole body shifting as if turning inwards on itself. When he spoke it was in a distant voice.

"Forgive me for asking, Prince Hrid, but, do you..."

"Do I ever want to see them again?" Hrid finished after the mage trailed off. "I do not mind the question, do not worry." He looked to the mage- it was as if a weight was being lifted in his chest, as painful as it was to talk about. "It... is impossible. The dead cannot return. But I still have my memories of them. That is more than forcing something upon them, more than they have already suffered." He recalled the war with Hel- those thoughts had stirred in him at the first mention of the kingdom of the dead. But he had resolved himself to this, and his feelings had not changed on that matter.

"I.... see. I ask for your forgiveness for such questions, Prince Hrid." Knoll's voice was distant once more, but Hrid could hear something unmistakable in his voice- something painful.

"It is no trouble. And please, do not worry about formalities. I am just Hrid, if you would be willing to. I am of no royal station here in the Order of Heroes." He looked once more to the dark mage, and finally the man's eyes raised to hesitantly meet his. Slight as it was, the mage gave a nod, and his gaze did not shift away this time.

2. Encounter
She did not know it yet, but it was to be the last time Kasumi would stand upon the parapets of the treasure hall of Askr.

She had gone there with the others for a practice- the area, housing powerful artifacts (some native to Askr but most were plundered from the lands they had warred with), was currently under siege, at least according to the Commander. The enemy who would attack the peaceful land must be eliminated- that was their mission. But Kasumi had never encountered any enemy there before, save some volunteer soldiers who had made an effort to act as training opponents.

But today was different. After everyone else had gone, she saw someone there- and it was not one of the civilian volunteers. The woman was clad in white and stood with a noble aura overlooking the setting sun.

"You have come, child of destiny." She spoke, voice deep and commanding, yet not aggressive- much less so than she often heard from within Askr.

"Or should I say Kasumi, retainer of Izumo." The words were addressed to her, thought the healer as the shock faded slightly. Was this woman... was she the mysterious enemy the Order's royal leaders had been so dead-set on slaying?

Her shock took the form of silence, even as the woman turned, discerning yellow eyes lingering on her as the warm sunset illuminated the gold set upon her green hair.

"I must apologize, firstly, for the actions of my colleague. I have no doubt that her words and deeds have caused you great misdirection and inconvenience. But I am glad to see, despite Loki's trickery, that your strength has not waned." She spoke clearly, giving a slight bow.

It clicked in an instant- Loki's colleague? She must be quite powerful- not unlike a god. Realizing her rudeness Kasumi stepped into a bow as well, a low and formal one. She felt a bit afraid, but not any desire to fight the mysterious woman as the Order wished.

"N-no, I'm fine..... thank you for saying that, though, Lady...." She replied, hoping her tone was not too informal.

"Thorr. I am Thorr, some mortals call me the god of strength." So she was a god! Kasumi kept looking down, too hesitant and unsure of any perceived rudeness to look up at the woman's face again. "It is true that I seek out those who are strong, who might wish to join their strength with my own." She explained. Kasumi could not help but be a bit surprised at her humility- speaking with her did not feel like talking with any of the gods of distant lands who were summoned to Askr.

"Some were among that number- some that now keep other company." Kasumi felt the gaze rest on her steadily but not maliciously, and she hesitantly raised her eyes to meet Thorr's. The woman continued, her tone serious. "Those who had nowhere to go, and no reason to follow the ones who had summoned them. No one to connect with in Askr- many of them would find their way to me, and I would welcome their strength without hesitation."

"But some of them have found their place elsewhere." Her words sounded full of thought, even puzzlement at the statement she spoke. "I believe that place- the place they desire to be in- is not a solitary strength, but with the company of another."

Kasumi felt the eyes stay on her, and a question of one word slipped out her voice in a parched tone.

"Me?"

"Yes. More than my strength, they have wished to stay in this place they have found- a place alongside yourself." There was something unreadable in her voice, and though it was not a threat it felt like the air before a great natural disaster- a force held back just barely from a deadly strike. A shiver went down the healer's back- despite anything the Order said or wished, she herself did not want to oppose the mysterious Thorr.

"Do not fear, chosen one." She spoke, this time it was calm, without even a hint of that repressed power. "I have no reason to fight you- at least for the moment. I shall attempt to keep my colleague's wiles in check. I would ask that your strength does not falter, and that you continue as if this meeting has not happened."

"For the bonds between you all are a fragile thing, and there are others you have yet to meet that may yet need that place only you can show them."

Kasumi could not recall much more of that evening- it was as if it was a trance. But as the leaders of the Order began to guard the treasury with more and more forces close to Askr, she had no reason to return. Something felt uneasy as well, and she was almost glad to have a reason to not go back to the sun-soaked walls of the treasury.

3. Home
The invasion of the Alfr kingdoms had not been a pleasant affair- Heath had been in wars before, and seen the devastating effects on not only the soldiers but innocent civilians. That the kingdoms were not largely inhabited was a comforting thought- or perhaps now there had been no civilians left from their previous fall.

In addition to the pressures of the war, there was something that now unhindered, had started to hang like a heavy cloud over his thoughts. That was the future of his homeland.

In Elibe, he would have been proud to believe in Prince Zephiel, the kind and just heir who had been aided by Eliwood and the others. But the records in Askr told a different story- and not just the books, either. He'd heard the name of Bern scorned on the bitter words of many other Heroes, and he feared that the cruelty and violent, glory-seeking trickery he had fled from was the only thing that survived of his homeland.

But then what of the Prince? Surely he had survived- he had heard mention of Zephiel, the king of Bern. He could not have been so corrupted.... that could not have been so, could it?

The thought was awful to him, but it was not solely for his own feelings that he had felt dread sink in when the Heroes who were from his own homeland arrived. He recalled the words of Commander Vaida- her belief in the Prince and his power to help others and restore their homeland to a truly virtuous place. If she was summoned, only to know a terrible truth... he did not want to think on it. When they had been stationed in Dokkalfheimr, he had not the time nor strength of emotion to think on it, but now he did.

Somehow he found himself in the library, and not in just any area but that of the records of poem and song. The wooden bookshelves loomed around him like a forest hiding shadows of the past.

"Do you... need something, mister?" A small voice brought him out of the half-memory, and he turned his head to meet the gaze of the child who had spoken. She had blue hair the color of clear water and was dressed in white, but her eyes were broken and sad, even as they filled with a mild confusion, looking him over.

"Oh- it's nothing." Heath replied, suddenly feeling self conscious. Why had he come into the library in the first place? But something- curiosity, or maybe even homesickness, urged him to speak.

"Do- do you know if there's any songs from Bern here? Bern, in Elibe?" Why had he asked that? That place, home of his birth or not, was forever gone to him. He had no love for the place that would slaughter its own civilians, in his time or later. Yet there was something else in his chest, something he couldn't turn away- and that was why he spoke.

The girl looked up, as if running through the records in her head. Then, after a careful pause, she shook her head. "There aren't many songs from Elibe yet, and most of them are from Lycia, Nabata, or Etruria. A few from Ilia maybe, and a few old dragon-songs, but none from Bern."

That confirmed it. Why had he suddenly felt a sinking dread when the girl shook her head? But it was not her fault- if anything, he still didn't know why he had been there, and was no closer to figuring it out now than before.

"Thanks- sorry for disturbing you." He gave a wave to the child as well as a bow- he'd been in Askr long enough to know that there were lords and royalty everywhere, even as unassuming as the sad girl- and turned to leave.

A few days later, Heath had taken Hyperion out on a patrol. The wind was good and the weather was nice- a pleasant spring breeze- yet he could not wholly enjoy it. There was still something uncertain lingering in his chest- the same feeling he had been under that day in the library. He had not wanted to approach the others from Elibe, especially the three from Bern- it was as his heart would burst at any news, good or ill. Most of all, he thought back to those times- when he was young and took to the skies with Vaida and the rest of her group. Before he'd known those feelings, before when he could have nothing but love for his homeland.

He urged Hyperion closer to the ground, as the wyvern slowed to land. But even above the gusts of the wyvern's great wings there came another noise, a song drifting on the wind. And not just any song- it was one he knew.

"This... is an old song."

Kasumi looked up from the bow she had given to see with disbelief the writing held before her- music, written similarly to the Nohrian notation. The gauntlet of King Zephiel held it, but it was not a grip of intimidation- rather, she felt for the first time that the king was now here not as the lord of a nation, but as a person.

"The notes here are that that was taught to me, but likely versions are known by every child in Bern. I do not know the meaning, or even who wrote it." His grip loosened as Kasumi hesitantly took the paper, her touch gentle, holding the paper of the song as if it was a living thing.

"But for me it is a song of home, and the people who make it so."

She had been nervous when she first approached the King of Bern that day in the library, but now she played without any nerves whatsoever. The sky had been so beautiful, yet somehow sad that she felt she could not do anything but play it. It was as if the air itself cried out for that very melody.

She wondered what Heath would think, what his home had been like. Had he been missing it when he asked Azura about music from Bern? She had told the troubadour a day later as they were heading back from a mission, puzzled over the curious meeting. Kasumi didn't know what her own home was like now- the place of her birth was not one she held many feelings for, and even less positive ones. But to her, the home- the people who made it so, as the King said- that was Izumo, and Chihaya and Izana most of all. But as far as people went, she could almost feel home, despite the discomfort she still felt within the walls of Askr's castle and the Order-controlled grounds, with the people she had grown to trust and care for. Her thoughts turned to them as she played, and the wyvern's wings added a counter-rhythm to the violin song.

She finished as the footsteps approached, and Kasumi glanced to her side as she put the violin down. Heath stood there, tears at his eyes that he did not hide, as if transfixed by the melody. Hyperion as well had a thoughtful look on his face, tilting his head to the side in contemplation of the familiar music.

"That...that was the song we used to sing as children." Heath spoke, disbelief in his voice. "Wherever did you find it?" His tone was in wonder and surprise, but sounded as if it came from somewhere far away.

"I...I asked someone...." Kasumi's voice trailed off, now feeling a bit embarrassed- it didn't seem too intrusive, she hoped. "And he told me about this song that he knew."

"A song from Bern... so that's what it was about!" A smile began to spread on the mercenary's face, and he stepped forward, extending a hand to Kasumi as she set down the violin in its case. But instead of a shake, she felt herself pulled into a hug- a tight, yearning one. She could hear the fall of teardrops on Heath's metal armor and feel the dampness at her own shoulder.

"Thank you." That feeling- the memories of his brothers in arms, of Commander Vaida- perhaps that was all he had wanted, to feel the feeling he remembered again, the one he had felt from them. It was as if with that song, he was back there in those small towns of Bern, training alongside them, all of them who were alive and happy.

And Kasumi relaxed into the hug, her own hands reaching Heath's back to comfort him. The wind seemed to carry that feeling- the far off but somehow closer than they think feeling of home.

4. Conversation
"Well met, Lord Amaltheus," the one clothed in the attire of Muspell greeted, bowing her head in a polite motion.

"To you as well, Lady Gwythain," came the reply from the one in cloth of Nifl, as his voice smiled at the reply, bowing his own head.

"I trust the battles were not too taxing?"

"Not at all. After all, Lady Masila was by my side."

"Sheesh, you're all so formal today." The Lady herself added, her own tone an accent unmistakably Elibean in origin. "How long must you keep this up?"

Amaltheus and Gwythain glanced at each other, then back to Masila. With hesitance Amaltheus began his reply.

"Well..."

"We have had visitors as of late... more than usual, and more interested in us than usual, as well." Gwythain explained, her tone cautious.

The door to the dimly lit building opened, and all three fell silent. But the one who entered was not that visitor, nor was it one unknown to them- in fact, that silhouette in the doorway was a very familiar sight.

"Idunn!"

The dragon priestess gave a bow as she entered the stables. "I am back. I must have worried you, I am sorry for that." There was a smile slightly larger than usual as she made her way to approach the two horses and wyvern of her comrades in arms.

"See? What did I say, she'd stop by sooner or later." the caramel-colored horse in the stable across commented knowingly, but with just a hint of teasing.

"Zitronnen, you know it all!" Masila stamped, but her tone was good natured, as if playfully pouting.

Idunn could not understand them, in truth, or rather she could not directly understand their exact words. The language of the animals across the many worlds was one that humans were hard-pressed to have any knowledge of, and even for dragons it was quite rare and difficult to have a chance of understanding. However, she began to get to know not just the riders, but also the non-human partners of the ones who had invited her into their close company under the contract of the Order of Heroes.

Gwythain the wyvern was not from Muspell as Laegjarn was, she had heard that from the general herself. Her home ravaged and conquered, Laegjarn had taken the small dragon in her younger years, and in that chance kindness gained a lifelong partner. She was dutiful and serious, but more than anything loved her rider, and held the Muspell heir in the highest of regard.

Like Gwythain, Amaltheus was not solely of Nifl blood. The parents of his parents had been horses of foreign diplomats, who moved to Nifl with their riders generations ago, and he was the child of that diplomacy. With a blue mane to match his lord and rider, he kept a dignified appearance on the battlefield, but it was clear to any who saw the prince and his horse that Amaltheus was dearly fond of Hrid.

Masila had been in the Black Fang for nearly as long as the Blue Crow, who she admired immensely. After her previous riders, a corrupt family, had been robbed on the road by the Black Fang in the days shortly before Sonia's arrival, she had instantly admired the elegant assassin and had devoted herself to Ursula without hesitation. With anyone else she was stubborn as could be, but despite that seemed to be warming up to the others faster than she'd like to let on.

To each of the stalls Idunn approached, and the wyvern and horses allowed her to pat their heads and necks. They trusted their own riders and partners the most, but they were starting to grow fond of the lonely dragon priestess as well, and it was clear they shared their partners' concern for her well being in the time after she had fallen ill.

She had just been patting Zitronnen's head, the last one of the group gathered (Heath was away on a scouting mission, and the Death Knight, however hesitant to join, was currently on a different assignment at the time- Idunn was curious about the horse clad in black armor with the steady disposition), when the door opened a second time.

"Hello?" A voice called, and Idunn recognized it, if slightly. There was another who she had sometimes seen going in and out of the stable- that person, a dragon like herself but from a different land, had arrived while she was still sleeping under the power of that mysterious calamity. But she had heard of the unusual young dragon who had an exceptional understanding of the language of horses, wyverns, and other animals that worked closely with those in the summoned ranks of the Order. "I don't mean to interrupt, would it be better to come by later?"

Idunn shook her head but did not move, towards the door or away from it. "No... I have no problems, and I think they would not have any as well," she replied with a glance to the partners of her teammates. With that, the door opened wider, and the young woman, her maid's outfit the same sea-blue as her hair, stepped inside.

"You can.. understand them?" Idunn finally asked, studying the dragon with a careful but not prying gaze.

Lillith gave a nod in response as she took a brush and a bucket of food from the side of the stable. "Yes, I once worked as a stable girl in a castle of the Nohrian royal family. It was to cover my true intent at the time," she explained, her voice carrying a wistful tone, "but I did not mind the company of the horses and wyverns there at all." Her words rang true as her mouth curved into an honest smile.

Idunn nodded in understanding, and silence began to fill the stable air- not an uncomfortable one, but a peaceful, neutral one. Idunn watched the other dragon check on all the animals gathered, and Lillith did not seem to mind the watching gaze of green and red.

At last Lillith broke the silence, her work finished as she turned to the Elibean dragon. "You know them as well, that I can also see." She gave a smile, one that had a touch of comfort in it. "Though you cannot hear their words clearly, you can sense their feelings, as one can an old friend. It's because they trust you, and you trust them." She spoke, as if she could predict Idunn's distant confusion at the statement. But as little as she could fathom the meaning- this trust, it was still something very new to her- she found the words to be true. She did trust them- them and their riders both. And she could feel their trust as well.

Idunn had stayed in the stables after Lillith left. The sun was already low as the first streaks of gray night were setting in across the horizon, flowing like a river across the forests bordering the Order's base. She knew from Zitronnen that Kasumi had sometimes stayed in the stable, even when beds were available within castle walls- she could see from his posture and the few extra blankets that, especially the previous year, were sometimes kept in the horse's usual quarters. But there was no sign of her tonight, nor anyone else.

So with one more visit to each of them, the dragon priestess set off, heading towards the quarters of her companions once more.

5. Reminder
Even as far away from Elibe as they were, at times Ursula could feel some semblance to her days in the Black Fang, with all the familiar faces that had slowly begun to fill the grounds of the Order of Heroes. There were the Reed brothers, of course, and with the later arrival of the Angel of Death the original Four Fangs were assembled. She'd seen others from the Fang as well, or former members- an assassin who had deserted some time ago. But this was not the Black Fang, and as they were all under contract of the Order, there was nothing she could do about punishing traitors as she would have liked to. For a while the assassin had contented herself with the fact she had seen no sign of that upstart wyvern riding mercenary who had suddenly garnered so much of her lady's attention.

But it still could not help but sit unwell with her, at least that had been her main sentiment on the matter until recently. And as it happened, she found herself facing one of those very traitors as she turned a corner of the Order's hallway. Though in truth, that person wasn't the last person she wanted to see- at least at the moment.

Ages ago, when there was no talk of Askr, or contracts, or Orders of Heroes, she remembered seeing that child for the first time. Her lady despised the girl so, and faithfully she had felt the same way. The girl was only barely older than Delthea, and she thought for a moment why she never felt any annoyance or frustration at the other mage who she kept close company with. Perhaps it was the difference in the two girls' dispositions, but perhaps it was also by her deference to her lady's will. Her lady... the memory carried a bitter and torn feeling she could not recall feeling previously.

So at the moment, she did not have any feelings of spite towards the green haired child, the traitor who had indirectly led to her disgrace and death.

The child made a sudden movement, her purple cloak rustling nervously as she moved. Ursula was brought by the sound out of her thoughts, and studied the girl. She did not look afraid- or rather, she did not look afraid of Ursula herself. The child clutched the tome to her chest tightly, as if she had something to say but was not sure how to begin.

She might as well speak, but it wasn't to help the pitiful child. "Do you have something you want from me, child?" She spoke. She couldn't remember the name of that one who the White Wolf and Mad Dog, even the Angel of Death, had been so devoted to- it was short, and started with "n" perhaps, but she couldn't remember any more beyond that.

"M-miss Ursula!" The girl squeaked in an uncertain voice- earnest as it was Ursula hardly noticed it. She couldn't imagine how that child had managed to stand up to her lady- but at the thought of that one so familiar to her her brows furrowed as the odd feeling returned, and she gave a frustrated click of her tongue.

Perhaps the child thought the sound was directed at herself, for she continued. "I-I just thought you would want to know... Mothe- that is, Sonia...." She trailed off, meeting the gaze that suddenly sharpened upon her.

It was done out of habit, but Ursula's body language suddenly relaxed, the eyes full of death suddenly softening, not to anything gentle or understanding, but a dry, far-off look instead. She remembered the mention of her lady on that rainy day in the clandestine meeting room, but that memory too seemed even more bitter in her thoughts- now that it had come true.

"Well, she's been contracted by the Order of Heroes. Or, at least they encountered her..." It was true then, the Blue Crow thought, looking down. Before, when she had first been summoned, it had been all she wanted. But now, somehow, she wasn't sure how to feel.

The silence broke, a strange and unfamiliar tone in the voice she knew.

"When I decided to leave the Fang, I had to say goodbye to a lot of people I cared about." The girl looked down, and Ursula now noticed her tone- honest and without any hatred or scorn towards her- if anything it was a strange sort of empathy that filled her words. "Uncle Jan, even my brothers and father...." Her voice broke, as if it was hard for her to keep from crying.

"But I made my choice. I wanted to do what I could. And I met kind people there too- both Jaffar and I did." There was suddenly a strength to her words, a strength that surprised the assassin just as much as the eyes that suddenly met her own. There was still fear in them, but there was also an unflappable determination.

"So..." Her voice trailed off again, but her gaze still lingered, not to be deterred.

Ursula would have liked to give a chuckle, to break that sudden confidence against her, but she was stopped in that moment. The comparison was different, of course- what good would these so-called 'kind people' be to her? But it was a feeling she felt she almost knew- that dilemma the girl must have faced all that time ago.

So instead, she only spoke one question. "What is your name, child?"

The girl seemed shocked by her words, as if she hadn't prepared her response. But after a moment's time, she spoke.

"It's Nino. My name is Nino."

Nino- that was the name of the one who had killed her. Perhaps knowing it was doing justice to an old adversary- that thought was more comforting than any other reason that she could be inclined to wonder.

But she did not feel as uneasy as she gave a short nod to the mage child, turning as the two of them parted in opposite directions in the hallways of the Order.

6. Visitor
The road from Nidavelir to Askr was a long one, especially without the technology accessible to few but the king's household. In truth, the traveler could almost consider himself such- but that was for neither here nor now. And more relevantly, he didn't have access to such advances to begin with. But he was not without his wits- that, at least, was still his own.

He'd heard and read songs of travel, poems to speak when the road seemed unending and treacherous, but he had not the heart to speak a word, even in prose. Instead, his thoughts ran over the old words his throat did not dare to speak aloud, and within his head it seemed to brighten the way, if just by a tiny bit. There would be a time for songs- yes, a time would surely come, he believed. And after all, his goal was to seek out the Master of Songs, the great Music-Voice of a far off land.

But he was not traveling for the purpose of a concert. It was for something, he was afraid, much more grave and serious.

And so, pulling the billowing cloth tighter to his body with the large gauntlets that reached to his forearms, the traveler from Nidavelir continued on the road to the Order's headquarters.

Chapter Text

The morning was pleasant, and once more Askr's landscape was beginning to turn to a warm spring. The Order, as they had grown accustomed to, had become involved in another war, this time against the kingdom of Nidavelir, but at the moment only a small group had ventured to the front lines. And as there was, at the moment, no threat of invasion, the small group could feel content to relax on that mid-spring day.

Of course, their "relaxing" was not completely so- there was still training to do, and as of late Plumeria had joined Laegjarn and Heath on their patrols of the surrounding roads to the capitol, keeping an eye on any who might need help, be it from thieves or brigands or simply from an injury or broken cart. What exactly tended to happen on the patrols none of the three were eager to say, but no one in the small gathering pried.

"Practice again?" Delthea gave an exasperated sigh, flinging up her hands and the magic book along with them.

Laegjarn smiled. The Valentian mage was so different from her own sister, but that was understandable. For the two of them, practice had been the only way to survive- only by being the strongest could one survive in Muspell, even its royalty. But she liked the cheery attitude of the mage- the girl was so free spirited, always speaking her mind without a bit of hesitation. Even more than that, she had become a good companion to Laevetain, and one who showed such kindness and friendship to her sister was a friend to her as well.

"Well, even fine skills must be honed." Laegjarn said, her tone gentle as she looked to the mage, who pouted at her a bit. "Besides, the practice you do now is something that you won't have to do later."

Delthea grumbled, crossing her arms, but her face looked as if she was contemplating it. "Well, you've got a point... kinda...." She gave a smile, heading over to the dark mage with the purple hood, giving a tug to his robed arm. "C'mon, Mr. Gloomy! Let's get this training over with!"

Knoll gave a sound of surprise at the sudden gesture. In truth he was still not accustomed to the way people of this world seemed to act towards him- the dark mages of this world weren't treated with any of the fear, dread, and avoidance that was customary for Magvel. But then again, the dark mages gathered in the Order were quite unlike the ones he had known from his own home. And in this place, even more so- it was as if nothing had happened, as if he had no involvement in the Dark Stone, or dark magic....

But that was not the case. And he felt that somehow, it did matter to them too- it was not as if these people ignored those facts about his life. Yet why else would they treat him with such kindness unless they deluded themselves? Even now- he had first thought he was to be a test subject or practice dummy the first time the mage girl had dragged him to "practice", but in reality she just wanted to practice- alongside him, not on him. The others were the same way- he wasn't something to them, but someone- to work alongside, not to use. And he was not used to it.

"Take care not to overwork yourselves!" Hrid called as the two left for the training grounds. He had begun to feel much better- that time he had spent as a Rokkr still felt so recent, even though he was sure the seasons had changed since then. As he glanced at the spring scenery, he felt relief in his chest. The last time he had seen such a sight, his heart had been clouded with worry, guilt, and despair. But now.... he was fine, and all the others were too. He glanced in the direction of the dragon priestess- she had seemed fine since he arrived, and he hoped she had not suffered much during the period of the supposed "sleep sickness".

Idunn, in truth, didn't remember much of it. Like the time long ago in Elibe, she felt as if a heavy white fog hung over those memories, obscuring them from view. But she did not mind it, in fact she had a sensation that, if she were to remember, it would be unbearably painful. Whether there was the same pain in that more recent time she did not know, nor want to know.

She studied the flowers along the path- in one of these gardens in Askr was where she was first put to stay. She was not to leave it- the Order's leaders had been adamant after that first occasion when the youthful anima mage had gone off with her after they were summoned. But even then, the others had found her. In the garden made only for military might, that healer had appeared, and with her the others as well. Soon, that garden had become filled with flowers and plants of all kinds- shrinking flowers of purple who hid from the sun but blossomed in the night, vibrant yellows and earthy oranges that popped out from the garden, herbs of both poison and medicine hiding in the shadows of the other plants. And even the dragonflowers that had first grown in the garden were not her sole dragon companions- the one who had shown her such kindness- her sister- soon grew to be with her once more.

Kasumi herself sat reading a book- a song book from the library. The languages of Nohr and Hoshido she was versed in, but she loved the tongue of Izumo the most. Even surrounded with the notes she could lose herself in, she felt herself missing those gentle sounds. But there were songs she could hear nowhere else in the world but here- the songs of other worlds. She had learned one from Bern in Elibe, and afterwards had curiously searched through the books of the library. Many were missing, damaged, or torn to bits, but there were still some that survived. She had made notes as well when she heard a catch of something from another Hero- those records she felt she must do her best to record.

She smiled- her life was a bit like that. She still missed Izumo- her heart ached for the land not of her home by birth, but the place she had found that felt like a home- but she cared deeply for the ones she had met here. Her loyalties and love lay with them, not the Order or their kingdom, and it eclipsed anything she could feel negatively about the group that they were all bound to.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her look up. They were not armored- it couldn't be Heath or Death Knight. There seemed to be the sound of a cloak rustling- perhaps it was Ursula, returing from the stealth meeting with Kaze and the others? But when she looked up it was none of them- in fact, it was no one she knew.

The stranger was hardly tall- in fact, he seemed barely taller than she was as she stood. He was wearing a thick cloak that covered his face and body, and what of his feet were showing from below seemed to be clad in a strange sort of armor. It was slightly familiar, as if she had seen it recently... but she could not remember completely.

"Can I... help you?" She asked, closing the book and studying the stranger. She could see from the corner of her eye that Laegjarn, Hrid, and Idunn had stopped what they were doing and moved close to her, giving cautious glances at the stranger, who stood some distance away from them.

"Is this... the kingdom of Askr?" The stranger had a medium tone, yet his voice was unreadable.
Kasumi glanced at the others, thinking over how to reply. But the sound of wings growing closer stopped her from having to.

Plumeria looked first at the stranger, then at the others. Her eyebrows furrowed, expression stern and distrustful. Raising the sphere of thorns, she turned to the stranger, her white hair tinged with thorny vines billowing as she did so.

"Yes, you are in Askr. If you would like to hear more, please tell us who you are and what your goal is here." Her voice was stern, leaving no room for compromise.

The stranger reached for something under the cloak, and Plumeria readied the magic sphere, hovering above the ground. "Get behind me," she said in a low tone.

But then the cloak fell away. Beneath the hood was a lined face, somewhat weary and framed by wavy dark hair and with a short dark beard at his jaw, but with eyes that shone with something that hardly seemed of ill will. With the cloak cast aside his full clothing was visible- under the cloak he wore an outfit that seemed to cling to his skin, covering his arms, hands, and legs. Kasumi remembered where she had seen that sort of clothing before- it was not unlike that worn by Reginn, the youngest princess of the very land of Nidavelir that Askr was at war with.

"A real Alfr!" He spoke with joy in his eyes, and somehow his tone sounded different than before- warm and confident and full of energy. "I never thought I'd be able to meet one... I thought the worlds of Alfr were lost forever.... and you two!" He held out his hands with excitement, and the others could see that they were encased in large gauntlets of metal, several times bigger than their own but that seemed to function the same as fingers, each joint with a natural articulation. "The colors of Muspell and Nifl...! The Changing Land, Askr, truly lives up to its reputation!" He smiled widely, but at the glares he cleared his throat and gave a low bow, now with a restrained and somber bearing that seemed befitting of an emissary.

"My apologies for my outburst, I hope you will forgive me. My name is Sindri, and I am a craftsman of the royal seat of the kingdom of Nidavelir."

"Nidavelir.." Kasumi repeated, thinking of her earlier comparison of his clothes to that of the land's princess. But at that memory she felt a sinking feeling in her chest- if he was from the land the Order was at war with, would that mean he was to be their enemy? She remembered when she had first met Laegjarn on the opposite side of battle.... and that terrible day in the Temple of Fire when she thought they would never meet again.

Sindri shook his head sadly, meeting the looks of the five of them. "Indeed, that is true. The kingdoms of our homes are engaged in another terrible war. I cannot speak on behalf of the entirety of my homeland, but I please ask that you give me a moment of your time. My reason for presenting myself before you is not one of battle."

Kronya would be disappointed, Kasumi thought, but she was definitely not. She would prefer to have a peaceful negotiation any day, though she didn't know why Sindri had arrived.

"We are pleased to hear that as well," Laegjarn spoke, and Sindri gave another small bow to the princess-general of Muspell. "Please do not worry too much. Think of it today as merely... messengers." After all, the heads of Askr and the Order were away- though she felt it would be uncouth to say as much. "What is it you would like to discuss?"

Sindri looked around at the others, studying each of their faces. "I apologize. While there were records of many different kingdoms, even that of the Alfr, which was considered little more than a fable to many, we lacked any records of worlds beyond them within the libraries of Nidavelir. But I have learned that perhaps only one from a world beyond may be able to help save my homeland. Something horrible has befallen our king, and perhaps other kingdoms will fall and many innocent lives may be lost if I hesitate."

The king... Plumeria remembered the nightmare she had seen- it had not been hers to deliver, being a plain nightmare with no suggestive qualities, but it had shown the three siblings of the Nidavelir royal family, and the sudden change that had gripped them all, especially the two elder ones. "So you too think there has been a change with him."

Sindri nodded solemnly. "I have heard that Princess Reginn was captured by Askr earlier, and was seeking their aid in that matter. But even so, even as I am not of the royal family, I cannot sit idly watching His Majesty lose to a power not his own. Not if there is something I can do to try and prevent this."

From his cloak Sindri drew a scroll, holding it in his large gauntlets. "It is said that there is a song that can restore one's true heart, and that perhaps with a Master of Songs, a great Music-Voice, can one who is lost may find their way back to themselves." He smiled wistfully as he looked over the scroll. "Perhaps it is merely poetic writing, or perhaps such a thing does not exist anymore. But I could not do nothing, so I came here seeking the libraries of Askr."

Hrid looked at the traveler from Nidavelir, trying not to let the sinking feeling reach his face. He did not distrust the man, but neither did he want to say too much. Yet he could feel that Sindri was truly, as he said, there without ill intentions.

After a moment's debate he spoke. "I fear that you may not find what you are looking for here. The libraries of Askr have become scattered, and many of them are lost or destroyed."

Sindri's eyes seemed to change, not into surprise but in resignation, as if he had expected that news. "It is as I feared. In the Changing Kingdom of Askr, much is not safe. Wars ravage the land outside the capitol, and even villages within the land's protection are left without resources and support as it is pooled to the royal capital to fund such wars." He stopped, expression suddenly changing to a frightened and worried one. "I deeply apologize for speaking out of place."

"No, you are correct." Plumeria said, her tone dry. She had seen it on patrol with Laegjarn and Heath- it was one reason she had agreed to start going with them regularly. Artifacts were often looted from ancient tombs and temples throughout the countryside in order to be placed in the treasure vault, and many things were taken to be used by the Order's higher ups and the royal family- what wasn't taken by them was often fought over or destroyed in collateral damage of battles. The three of them had begun taking food from the mess hall to send to villages, and bringing them leftover clothes and wood for their homes.

"But why are you interested in the library? And what's a Master of Music?" She spoke, shaking aside the memories of her childhood as a mortal that had somehow bitterly resurfaced.

"Ah yes! I suppose that, like talk of Alfr, was only thought to be a bedtime story in my kingdom." Sindri went on, eyes lighting up like before. Something about him was just a bit endearing, and Kasumi felt herself slightly more inclined to trust him. Not to mention the idea of learning about the world of Nidavelir made her feel a bit excited- a way to learn of it without invading it.

"The story of the Master of Music is a sad tale, but one with a happy ending." Sindri gave a smile, and his voice seemed to take on a poetic and gentle air. "I remember hearing of it as a child in the halls of Nidavelir. In the days before the coup, it was the inspiration of many a beautiful seidjarn, and many seidjarn instruments were played upon in the palace. According to the legend, the Master of Music selflessly gave their own life, pouring themselves into a song until they had become nothing at all. But that song gave hope to those who had none, and it gave them the strength to keep going. And although the Master of Music was of physical body and life no more, they lived on through their legendary song."

"That sounds like...." Kasumi thought. In truth it sounded too familiar to her, and she knew at once who she would be inclined to consider such a selfless master. But her lord the Archduke was not a musician, nor was he here in the Order, and she wistfully thought that in the end could not truly help Sindri or his homeland. At the thought she remembered Loki's words as well- the words that had brutally shattered her from her sorrow and had forced her to understand that that was truly gone, and that she would not go back to it if it meant the end of the ones she had grown close to now. It felt like it had been so long ago, yet now the memory was stinging and biting as if it had been moments ago, vividly replaying in her mind.

As if snapping her out of the vision, she felt the paper beneath her hand, the book she had collected of music from different Heroes and the scraps from the library grounding her back to the present. That's right..... that story could be about any of those people.

"I... I know a few people who might be that Master of Music you seek." Kasumi spoke hoarsely, trying to pluck up the courage. She was just an arranger and musician, certainly not such a master, but she did have an ear for it, and had heard some stories from other Heroes. But she had to do something else first. "If you'd be ok with it, I'll check with them first to see if they'd be ok with it."

"That would be very appreciated, Good Lady," Sindri replied thankfully, giving a sweeping bow. Kasumi gave a bow herself, and trying to shake off the nervousness hurried away, clutching the book to her chest.

Sindri shook his head after she had left. "I appreciate the gesture, but I wonder whoever could be here. Somehow I believe that if any have the power to save the people of Nidavelir, it would not be one who would be known as a Master."

Idunn studied his face in silence. The words were mostly lost to her, nor did she think that Sindri, however friendly, recognized her or knew anything of her- he seemed to only know those from the same lands as Askr and his own homeland. But something of those words worried her. The thing he spoke of, this legend, it was not like the Lord of a kingdom, whose title was gained by inheritance. No, it seemed something far different. But no matter what, she would go with Kasumi and the others if it was their decision to go.

But even then, their future seemed just as clouded- an uncertain and deadly air to it seemed to have appeared since the sad and cryptic legend Sindri had recalled had reached their ears.

Even though they had recovered greatly since the day he was summoned to Askr's Order of Heroes and requested by the worried looking healer almost immediately to examine the two that had mysteriously disappeared, Knoll still felt the urge to keep an eye on both the dragon priestess and the prince of Nifl. He had learned a bit more about the foreboding phenomenon known as Rokkr. Most of those who appeared as them, enlarged and completely engulfed in a fell power, simply vanished into dust upon their defeat. They were not the same ones that were summoned to the Order's ranks, not even remotely. Yet Hrid had become one, somehow- and he was afraid to say that perhaps before he had, Idunn had as well.

Yet their recovery was a miracle- a kind of hope he would have sadly dismissed as fantasy if it had not been presented directly before his eyes. Even after they had been lost to a force not their own, they had somehow regained themselves. Had it been through their ascended status- he had heard rumor that the royalty of many of the lands, including Nifl and Muspell, was the descendants of ancient Divine Dragons that bore the names of the lands themselves. Idunn as well was a dragon- one with a power similar to the Divine Dragons. Perhaps the strength of this blood had led to their return to their own selves. But he was not wholly convinced. It still seemed all too hopeful, with a distinct lack of facts, and the scattered library of Askr did not aid in that. But he was grateful for what he had.

He was grateful to the others for their treatment of him, but perhaps grateful was not the word- incredulous would be closer. Even Idunn and Hrid patiently indulged his worry and interest, going so far as to invite him to fight alongside them in training after he returned with Delthea from practice that morning. Today was one such instance, but it was not to be the three of them alone. A newly arrived Hero was to be joining them, but who it was he had no idea.

That man, a stranger but surrounded in a terribly familiar gloom of evil magic, was not who he expected, nor even wanted to see.

He had briefly heard the name- a knight of Renais, land of the twin prince and princess who had been the childhood companions to Grado's own prince. But that knight had betrayed his homeland to Grado for reasons Knoll was not fully aware of. It was all too clear to see now. The magic was the same as the Dark Stone, and it shone in Orson's eyes and the lance he raised from atop the horse. It even seemed to seep in his words as he spoke the name- Monica.

Knoll was stricken with shock and felt himself unable to move. Memories flooded back of that terrible day that his lord had shattered the land's Sacred Stone- when he had seen him accept that terrible and great power. He could feel his own voice straining as it had, when he shouted in vain at the prince, though he made no sound now. He could feel the hands that grabbed and held him back, that threw him into the prison cell where he would await his end.

But then he felt a hand, not those rough ones from that time before, but a gentle touch to his shoulder. His eyes focused suddenly, and he turned in shock at the sensation, not realizing the expression of terror on his face until after it had softened in realization. The sad and solemn ice-blue eyes of Prince Hrid of Nifl gazed back at him, and he remembered where he was- this was the training grounds surrounding the Order's base, and he was here now- not in Grado, not on that day anymore.

"Knoll, are you going to be alright for the training? You needn't push yourself." Hrid's voice was quiet and steady, yet full of a care that he could not conceal wholly. But Knoll shook his head. He would be fine now. That time had passed.

And soon this time, as well, faded into the sunset of the day. Training was over, and although it had not been pleasant, it went more smoothly than it could have. Knoll found himself weary, but less in body and more in mind. Even so, Hrid and Idunn had remained near him throughout the practice battles, keeping an eye on him just as he had for them many a time. It felt ironic to him how things had changed after just one chance meeting.

"I am sorry to have troubled you," he said finally to the two of them after they had gotten a chance to relax, the battles all finished for the day. "I was not expecting to...." He trailed off, unsure of what to say. "...meet another from Magvel today."

Idunn's eyes were serious but not cold, and she blinked in response without moving her head. "It is no fault of yours, Knoll. Nor was it any trouble for either myself or Hrid."

Hrid nodded in agreement. "Idunn is correct." He gave a small shudder, gritting his teeth for just a moment. "I cannot say that it was anything like what you felt, but it..... shocked me to make acquaintance of the knight called Orson today."

Knoll remembered their conversation before and Hrid's words of his lost loved ones. Was the memory of that conversation on his mind as well just as it was for himself? He felt he owed the two of them an explanation in any case, even as he was loath to talk about it.

"Orson is from the same continent as myself, Magvel, but from the nation of Renais. You may have met its Prince Ephraim and Princess Eirika, among others." The two nodded, seeming to recognize the names. "Orson was a knight of that nation, but his loyalty changed to that of the Grado Empire. By some means, his deceased wife, Monica, was returned, or promised to be returned to life." He sighed. He did not want to face the truth that followed, but it was all too clear to him, and he could not hide from it forever- it was his duty and study as a dark mage to the truth, even if it hurt.

"That promise... that means... was Prince Lyon."

The two were silent for a moment, before Hrid spoke in a soft voice. "Your lord?" His eyes looked hurt, as if it was he himself who had been betrayed. "Oh Knoll.... I am so sorry...."

Knoll blinked, unable to find even the capacity to shake his head. "It is not your fault, Prince Hrid. It is better that I know of it now than live on in a cloud of ignorance." But even so, he felt his throat tighten, short of breath as if he were about to lose consciousness. It was as if his every loyalty to Grado was choking him as punishment for the words- even the very thoughts of the truth that he had once again uncovered.

"Do not strain yourself." Idunn spoke, and Knoll felt his head spinning, after a moment a cool hand pressed to it. And then, he could not recall anything.

"How is he doing?" There was a voice, somewhere out of focus.

"You were right in time." Another familiar voice. Where was he? He remembered something- he had been talking about the Sacred Stones to someone, about Grado. Had he become exhausted during research? "It's lucky you brought the extra canteen of water with you, Sir Death Knight."

He ventured an eye open- that name was not of Grado, yet it was familiar.

Yes, it was returning to him now. And with it, the reason that he had mentioned his homeland.... and the terrible clenching of his chest that followed it.

"Do not mistake it for courtesy. I was merely... commanded to take it." He blinked and could make out the figures that became less blurry as his eyes adjusted.

"Perhaps it is heat sickness." The purple hoods at his side were not of a Grado dark mage, but of Idunn, who spoke as she pressed not a hand now, but a cool cloth to his forehead. "Some travelers have suffered from it in Nabata. Fae told me."

"It could be. He hadn't seemed to take any drink or provisions, even in the midst of battle today." Prince Hrid was there too, ice blue eyes cautiously trained on him. He turned back to the skeleton-faced reaper knight who was still standing, but upon a closer look did seem crouched downward just a slight bit. "Even if it was just by order of another, you have our thanks for sharing it with us." He gave a nod and slight bow to the knight, who was silent but did not seem eager to leave.

As Hrid turned back to him, his face relaxed with relief. "Thank goodness, you're conscious. Are you feeling a bit better, Knoll?" He asked, voice full of concern. Knoll found he could not even contemplate the words and only gave a nod back.

A canteen was placed in his hand with care, and he turned his head to see Idunn steadily holding his arm. "Drink. You will feel better." He did not feel he could refuse, nor did he want to, and raised it up to his lips. The water had a cool feeling to his throat, and seemed to clear his head as he drank it in slow gulps.

"I... have caused unnecessary worry to you all again." He spoke with regret in his voice. But the prince of Nifl only shook his head.

"Do not feel bad. You couldn't help it- today was unusually hot, and I am sure it was unexpected stress for you in addition to that."

Knoll began to stand, taking the hands that were offered but his expression seemed gloomy still. "Even so, it is for matters of the past that I have been affected. Nothing can change what has happened- to Orson, to Grado, or to anyone." He thought on it- even with the terrible truth that was presented- that the one he had trusted with everything was willing to manipulate and soil a grieving and distraught life as means to a selfish end- he still could not completely ignore his own past. It was the place he had served, and he could not find contempt for the time he had led in service of that land and that liege.

To his surprise Idunn's eyes were downcast, and she seemed to be nodding as well. "There are things... they are lost to me. I will never return to them, in this place or any other." The dragon woman's voice was far away and full of pain.

"I am as my scythe is. Our place is on the battlefield. It is only suitable for those who command me to use me as such- even if it is my place to break there alongside it." The one who had spoken did so in a voice that, despite its covering echoes, was full of understanding, even as his armor hid any trace of human emotion.

Hrid was silent. He had known them all for some time, of course some for longer than others, but it still left him in shock. They all had served different lords, but they all had served someone. Someone who was willing to use them without question- someone had made them into their tool of war.

"You're more than that." He finally spoke. "Maybe in the past, it was not so. But you are here now- we all are." He had sometimes wondered, now more often than ever, of the rebuilding of Nifl. He was the eldest of the family, and the throne, if it was to be given to the charge of a Nifl royal once more, would be charged to him. It seemed clear in his mind what he would do without fail- what he would dream of and work tirelessly to achieve.

"You may have been used in the past, but you are yourselves here and now. Even if that has been lost, it is something that you have now. And there are people who will help you regain it, if you have want or need." He spoke every word from his heart, and would have embraced all three of them if they had wanted. But they did not- they only stared at him, but it was not stares of annoyance or doubt, merely blank shock.

After a long moment, the Death Knight stirred, walking softly away without a word. But he gave a tilt to his head, as if in response to Hrid's sudden words and offer. Idunn met his eyes as well and there was a gentler look to them.

And after a long moment, he felt the hand squeeze on his own. Knoll was still holding it after being helped to his feet. The mage's eyes that turned to him for a moment seemed just a bit more focused and relaxed.

Chapter Text

As it turned out, things had gone better than anyone could have hoped. Shortly after Sindri's arrival Ursula and Kaze had returned from their earlier battle and were informed about the mysterious traveler. Heath and Death Knight had also heard shortly afterwards, as did Knoll and Delthea, but not one of them had any idea about the "Master of Music" or a way to help save the kingdom of Nidavelir, as its craftsman hoped.

However, letting the traveler explore the library, or rather its remains, went much more smoothly. With the combination of the stealth experience of Kaze and Ursula added to Laegjarn's seamless strategy, even the Nidavelir craftsman was able to enter the library without anyone taking note. Though in part it was due to the absence of his seidjarn gauntlets, which Knoll and Heath had offered to watch outside. Perhaps to keep his traveling cloak drawn around him so as to not show too much of his clothing and face, Sindri had asked the others to open and hold the books for him, and even the charred and mangled scraps he poured over with unmaskable fascination. But despite his cheery spirits they were, at the end of the next day, no closer to finding what he sought regarding his king.

"It's no bother," he had replied cheerily at Laegjarn and Kasumi's disappointed looks and Knoll's apologies when outside. "Such a matter is as arcane as time itself, and even in the great halls of Nidavelir's palace, not much survives from before the coup. As it is, that tale was but a childhood yarn. Finding any record of it once more would be nothing short of miraculous." The man gave a smile despite his words, adjusting the large gauntlets over his arms, which twisted as if trying the large hands out once more.

"Well, if you're sure..." Kasumi had responded hesitantly. Her own investigations had gone well enough: at Sindri's story she was reminded of Azura, the Valla-born princess and songstress who had, she had heard from some, given her life through a song at a time when either of the warring nations had completely defeated their opposite opponent. She also recalled hearing of the dancer of Elibe, the beautiful and mysterious Ninian, who had once brushed with death to be revived by a miraculous magic. Both of them she had sought out, and neither had any problem with their stories being told to, or even meeting with Sindri, yet when she related parts of the stories, he had refused both.

"They both sound to be brilliant musicians, and more than that upstanding and selfless individuals," he had said, but his eyes were sad. "I thank you for regailing me with their stories, and I thank them in turn for their permission in doing so. It is enough to hear of them." And he had sadly given a nod to his head, but decisively turned away. She wondered whatever this "Master of Music'' must be for even those two to not be who Sindri was searching for.

She was debating this internally, but was happy to be snapped out of it by a sound from the distance. Looking up she noticed the Death Knight standing a ways off, but he did not draw nearer.

Without thinking she ran forward, relieved at the sight of him. Maybe he would, if he was comfortable with it, be able to shed some light on the dilemma. "Death Knight!" She called as she approached, but stopped short before him. He stood perfectly still, yet it was not a peaceful stillness- instead it seemed one of complete consciousness- an uneasy and on edge sort that she knew too well.

"What happened?" She spoke after a pause. There was worry and fear in her voice but not of the reaper knight, but for him. After all, he was here now, and if there was anything that could harm him, or any of the others she cared for, she could now do more to keep them from that harm.
But the skeletal helm did not rest on her face, instead tilting in the direction of the curious craftsman. The voice that spoke was not cruel, but it was grave and unwavering, full of somber and ominous warning.

"It is not safe now for one of Nidavelir to be in these grounds."

Perhaps by a stroke of good fortune, no one had been too far at the moment, and the small group was able to be gathered without too much delay. Several of them had been helping Sindri with his exploration of the library, and a few others were in the proximity, but most everyone had finished up with what business they had.

"What's the big idea? I was just gonna go get sweets with Laevetain in town when you called." Delthea grumbled, crossing her arms. "I don't know why, but I've been in a bad mood all day," she muttered under her breath. "This had better be important, Moody Bones!"

Kasumi stood next to the mage, a look of sympathy on her face. She hadn't liked to do it, especially with how cheery Delthea had looked- even Laevetain seemed to be half smiling when she had approached them. But even after the news Laevetain had refused the offer to come with Delthea to the gathering, saying she instead had something to do in the town.

Laegjarn also seemed uneasy at the mention of her sister, but she seemed to be trying to hide it, forcing a smile when she asked Delthea.

"So, Laevetain went to town today?"

The little mage looked up, giving a little nod. "Uh, yeah, that's right Miss Laegjarn." Her grumpiness had softened a bit talking with Laegjarn. "She said there was something she needed to do."

A flash of worry crossed Laegjarn's eyes, but a voice interrupted them.

"Don't worry, Laevetain isn't alone. There were others from the Order going to town today as well." It was Ursula who had spoken, and the assassin gave a smile- one that did not reach her eyes, but all the same it was not one of cruelty. "I believe Clarisse and Kronya were both planning to go- not together, of course. Not to mention many more... straightforward members of the Order."

"Fae..." Idunn spoke, adding softly the name of her sister.

"Oh, I didn't know your sister was also planning to go with them," Ursula responded, and there was just the tiniest hint of concern in her voice. "Of course, that child... Nino," she said with a slight bitterness to her voice, "was also among them. But even should there be danger, there is another former member of the Four Fangs with them as well. One would be quite foolish to cross the Angel of Death purposefully." She spoke coolly, but it made Kasumi smile- she wouldn't have mentioned the ones who betrayed her in the past so casually if not to try and alleviate some of the worry from Idunn and Laegjarn. Of course, she'd never want to point it out to Ursula, especially with the cares she had taken to try and hide that consideration.

"Are all the delays finished?" The Death Knight's voice, cold and unflinching like a deadly fog, took to the air, filling it with the feeling of dread from before. Everyone fell silent, and most of the gathered crowd looked at the reaper knight with silent worry.

"Everyone seems to be accounted for," Knoll spoke, breaking the silence, but his voice had no command to it, instead directing his gaze to where Hrid and Laegjarn stood, head bowed ever slightly. The chill that had hung in Hrid's heart at the icy words was diminished slightly by a pang of pity- what had the man been through before coming here- what sort of a lord had he served? But he gave a nod to the statement.

"Knoll is correct," he said after scanning the gathered group himself- no one seemed to be missing. "Please continue with your news. Do not worry about our shock or feelings, we appreciate hearing it from you." He spoke the words, but all the while could not help feeling a dread in his heart. He had heard something about Nidavelir, but still a worry gripped him for his two living relatives in the Askr capital... If something had…

"Nidavelir troops have arrived in the Askr capitol and the royal grounds with the purpose of invasion." The knight spoke solemnly and to the point, his words not wavering a hair. "It is said their purpose is the reigning queen."

The group was frozen in shock- invasion to Askr was not new, and they all had seen the destruction caused by the kingdom's frequent wars on its villages and towns bordering the capitol. And though they had seen and known the cruelty shown in the capitol, none of them had actively wished any harm upon the citizens- the ones who had been pulled into these battles against their wills.

But more than any of the Heroes, Sindri seemed distraught.

"Already? But... they could not have had the numbers, nor the means to make it here!" He was shocked and his face had lost all its color, his eyes looking even more tired than before, weariness turned to distress.

"Perhaps it was the Order." Kasumi had intended to think it to herself, but the words left her instead. "The royalty of Askr can create the gates to other worlds. It could have been a mistake..." The thought was too worrying, despite how little she had faith in them. But to doom their own people, wittingly or not... it was too horrible, and that she had arrived at that idea was even moreso. She didn't want to distrust them that much, nor blame them for such a thing if they truly had not done it. "Or it could have been a trick, or some other power," she added quickly. Some other power... a distant memory of a strange altar and an object that had resembled the Summoner's legendary weapon seemed to surface to her mind in a flash, and then was gone. But there had been another like the Summoner's weapon- two of them. That could be it…

"Whatever the cause, they are here now. Those in the Order are urged to kill or take prisoner any from Nidavelir they should encounter." The skeletal gaze did not rest on Sindri this time, but instead lingered on the faces of the other summoned Heroes.

There was silence in the air for a long moment that felt endless, but it was broken not by a voice but the rustling of cloth. Sindri had kneeled, the damp earth staining his pale cloak. His hood was thrown off and gauntlets were placed to his back, and his head was lowered in submission.
"I am of Nidavelir. You may do whatever you wish with me." He spoke in a tone unlike anyone had heard from him. All of his joy and excitement, even caution, was gone from him. Even defeat and despair seemed to have left him, and his tone had not intent to draw pity through tears or pleas.
The sight jarred something in Knoll- the feeling of those chambers beneath the royal castle of Grado, the memories of the moments he first had lost everything- even the freedom of his own life. He knelt beside Sindri without thinking, but even then the man did not stir.

Laegjarn was silent. She had seen many submitted in such manners to Muspell- the survivors begging for mercy, begging to be spared- pleas that she was never able to answer. But she had not seen one like Sindri- the man could have fled as soon as he heard the news, he could have begged or tried to negotiate with them. But instead- she was shocked by the actions and found she could not speak.

By her side Heath gripped the lance tightly. For him there was no question. Innocent civilians of the city may be in danger, but if that was the case the course was not to cut down another innocent, but to defend the ones who needed it. Yet he felt frozen in place- perhaps by dread or perhaps by memory.

"I can't....." Kasumi finally spoke, but she could not finish it. Her hands had gripped the staff with nerves, and as she tried to settle the spinning in her head by glancing around at her close companions, she noticed not a single weapon was raised at the man from Nidavelir. Something seemed to stop spinning, though a hot fear was still filling her chest.

"We can't." Idunn spoke, as if continuing her thought. The priestess had looked around as well, and though she still could feel very little, there was something in the bodies of her companions that she could put into words when they could not. "We cannot dictate your life or death, Sindri of Nidavelir. It is yours and yours alone."

Delthea sniffled, but curled her hand into a fist. "That's right!" She spoke, feeling something return to herself. "We can either just stand around here doing nothing, or we can go kick some buns and save some townspeople in the capitol town!" She was already feeling a bit better. "So who's with me?"

"I am!" Plumeria spoke before she could register it- it was as if at Delthea's words she was not the noble dokkalfr of the present, but the little girl from many years ago. The memory stung a bit- maybe if she had known someone like the spunky mage... but she could protect that child now, and prevent any from suffering what she had. She cleared her throat, hoping no one had taken notice (that accursedly perverse healer was smirking- she obviously had!) and spoke again. "That is, I agree with Delthea. We can do more going there than just sitting here. We must make haste to the town."

But even as they did so, Ursula held out a hand in a stopping motion. "You are forgetting the matter of our good Sindri of Nidavelir," she spoke, using Idunn's wording. "Even if we press nothing to him, others of Askr, or even of the Order may be more than willing to imprison or execute him. After all, only we knew of his arrival. And even if he is to survive this, it will be exceptionally hard for him to keep living in the Order's grounds, or any part of Askr, much less returning to his homeland."

That was right.... Hrid thought. It seems there had been a new dilemma that arose with the war, even after those with his homeland and Muspell, the kingdom of Hel, and the Alfr kingdoms had ceased. But then again... they had gained experience from each of those. And maybe now they could put that experience to use.

"I may be the last person to hear this suggestion from," he spoke, noting the irony of the words he was about to suggest. "But would it be possible to split up and then regroup? Some of us could go to the capitol town to protect the citizens and learn more of the invasion and war, and the others could go about finding a way to hide Sindri or help him return to Nidavelir."

Kaze looked thoughtful from where he had been standing towards the back. Someone needed to keep a lookout for if anyone would notice the group, especially noticing Sindri. He had been unnerved by the news, as well as Sindri's surrendering of his life, but perhaps the latter was not utterly unknown to him. He recalled the first time he had properly met the young Corrin, who had refused to take his life even when presented with it. Somehow he was not surprised at the mercy shown by the ones he had grown close to, yet he was surprised by Sindri's submission. He was not a warrior, or did not seem one outwardly, but the swiftness of resignation of the Nidavelir craftsman sent a sad pang to his heart- what had the man endured to make him so quick to surrender his own life?

But he could see merit in the suggestion raised by Prince Hrid. The man was resilient, he thought with admiration. Only a short while ago had he been barely able to walk about, recovering from a deadly spell, and judging by his feebleness of body, an unforgiving imprisonment that preceded it as well. Idunn had also seemed to be weakened, but she had recovered more quickly, perhaps due to being a dragon.

He gave a nod to the statement. "I believe Prince Hrid raises good points. If the plan is acceptable, I believe it may be effective." He gave a low bow towards Laegjarn. "Princess Laegjarn, would you be willing to lend your strategy as well?"

Laegjarn nodded. It was the second time in such a short period for someone to ask for her advice and strategy on a matter outside of battle- first Kasumi and now Kaze. She had thought when she had first begun living in the Order's grounds that her strategy was nothing but weakness- a weakness that had failed before the unbreakable bond that the Order's leading heir must have shared with the Summoner of legend. Even now she had doubts about herself, but she felt that it was beginning to change, little by little. Perhaps, she thought, perhaps there was just the sliver of a chance that her strategy could be used for things to help others- and perhaps that was not utter weakness.

"I will help as well." Idunn stated, moving to stand next to Kaze and Hrid.

"But Idunn- " Delthea asked, a worried look in her eyes. It was clear she was thinking of the young dragon that had gone to town for a fun outing. But then she shook her head, instead a smile of determination blazing on her face. "Then I'll protect Fae extra hard for you!"

A rare smile crossed Idunn's face under the hood. "Thank you, Delthea. I shall keep an extra lookout for you, as well." Delthea nodded with a big grin at the dragon.

"I believe it would be better to have less in the first group Hrid mentioned," Ursula stated in agreement. "Perhaps only those who are the most specialized in espionage and strategy, as a larger group would only draw more attention. And as such," she smiled with just a hint of pressure to her expression, "I will go to the capitol town with the second group."

"But-"

"Or do you not want to work alongside me, Delthea?" Ursula strode to the side of the mage girl, her voice more teasing than threatening as a smile played on her blue lips.

"N-no, it's not that! It's just that the town's like, the most sunlit place in Askr. And you don't even like bright places! You don't even like to go usually! Plus, Nino'll be there! And you don't even like her either!"

Ursula sighed, her smile turning to one of being found out. "You are correct on both points. But in order to achieve perfection- and with it, success in this plan, it will take doing unwanted things." She smiled again, a fake smile yet a teasing one. "So do put up with working with me, dear."

"You know I didn't mean it that way! Hmf!" Delthea turned away in a pout, but her spirits seemed to be lifted as well despite it.

"What about you, Death Knight? And Knoll?" Kasumi spoke, looking over the two. The knight was still standing as still as before, and Knoll looked up from where he was crouching by Sindri's side.

"I will go where I am needed. As I doubt my research will have any fruit to the matter of espionage, I believe that would be the matter of protecting the town. Perhaps I can create a diversion with my magic." Knoll spoke without standing at first, and instead offered a hand to Sindri. The gauntlets clanked to the ground as he stood, aided by the dark mage, but his head was still bowed low.

"Don't forget about yourself," Kasumi was about to add but someone else spoke first. To her surprise it was Plumeria, who tossed a giant spider model to the mage that Kasumi recognized as his own handiwork. "If you need a decoy, you might as well use this. More people are scared of spiders than of dark mages in this place. Besides, you cannot be replaced easily." She spoke with a solemness that seemed to affect the mage, for his eyes seemed to change as he gave a nod, tucking the model under the folds of his robes.

"I will bear that in mind." And then after a moment's pause he added two soft words. "Thank you."

"I am where I am to be needed." The reaper knight spoke after a pause.

"Then would you be alright with going with us to the town?" Kaze suggested in a quiet voice- it was not hushed from fear, but rather sounded full of respect and somberness.

"You are asking me to sate my scythe's blade on the blood of the invaders?" The reaper spoke solemnly, but there was an unsteady tone in his words, as if he was trying to hold part of himself back. But when no one spoke against him, he nodded. "Very well. I shall take to the bloody field of battle once more."

"As for me, I'll go where I'm needed too." Heath said, but his hand was already firm on the lance and eyes were filled with an intense look- sympathy and compassion to the lives at stake, no matter if they were of Sindri or the townspeople of Askr.

"A messenger..." Laegjarn spoke aloud. Then looked to the others, but mostly to Heath. "Heath, would you be willing to act as a messenger between the two groups? Once we have set out, can you find those in the town and give them the message, going with them to meet up with us? If we are able to make it out of Askr and in the direction of Nidavelir, we shall do so, but it may be hard to regroup without both knowing a location." Her words were calculated and calm, with the air of the expert strategist-general of Muspell.

Heath gave a nod, and there was a slight smile on his face that had not been there before. "I will do all that I can."

Laegjarn nodded, giving a smile. "Thank you for your considerate act. There is no time to lose, then." She spoke to the whole group. "Those going to the capitol must set out at once. Remember to stay together, and do all you can to protect the lives of civilians and those who cannot fight back. Remember what we are fighting for. And those staying here, we are to go on a scouting mission for materials. Gather supplies for all of us- provisions, materials for travel, and anything else. It doesn't need to be said, but only we know of the true reason for this. Is everyone prepared?"

There was a resounding nod, and with the former Muspell general's nod, the groups set out. No words were spoken, and if they were the sounds of clamor of the small group's bustle drowned them out.

Chapter Text

Without any further delay they had sprung to action on their plan. Laegjarn was by no means rusty at strategy, despite that it had been some time since she had had reason to plan such a serious matter, and had quickly summed up the initial outline of a potential plan. After defending the capitol, those going to protect the citizens with the rest of the Order would wait for Heath's arrival, at which they would head to the outskirts of Askr to rejoin the others, who would be heading to Nidavelir with a disguised Sindri. As many of the Order's Heroes were being sent on recon missions it would not be unheard of, despite being the opposite direction of the capitol. Furthermore, it would be where the Nidavelir war forces would be coming from, so their passage to the capitol could be seen as merely a counterattack if need be.

She was a bit sad to not be heading to the capitol, but she would have to trust the others. She had no problem with that- she had known them long enough, especially Delthea, and she was sure that Laevetain would not only be supported but be comforted to have her close friend arriving to help defend by her side. She wondered if Idunn was harboring similar feelings, as her little sister as well was embroiled in the fight, but the dragon priestess did not put any of her thoughts to words.

It must have felt odd once, she thought absently after they had finished the first round of early preparations and were all now going their separate ways to check locations and gather supplies for the treacherous journey ahead. She had been enemies with Nifl, part of the army who destroyed the land and its people, yet now here she was, discussing strategy with the son and brother of those her father had murdered. Her own siblings too had died to his hand, she thought- somehow that thought seemed to surface when it would not have been able to before. They weren't all that different. The thought was just a bit comforting despite the pain. And not just in their losses were they dissimilar- she felt as if the others, not only Prince Hrid, also felt the unknown sense of belonging and comfort that she did, being in their company.

As if echoing her thoughts, she looked over at Kasumi as the troubadour stood by her horse. She seemed rooted to the spot, but for what reason Laegjarn was not sure. She could not help but feel worried for her, and approached.

"Kasumi." The healer's head snapped up in a flash, meeting Laegjarn's eyes with a look of nervousness fading to assurance. "Sorry to have startled you."

"N-no, it's alright...." Kasumi replied, but her voice trailed off. "I-it's just the nerves from starting out..... but I wouldn't have it any other way." There was pain in her voice- worry and emphatic sorrow alike, yet there was a determination that kept her going as well. "I'm with you... all of you... and we can do something. So... it's... I'm alright. Really." She smiled up at Laegjarn. Suddenly the memories from long ago seemed to resurface, and she felt immense relief at the mere fact that today they were able to fight back to back, on the same side. "I'm glad you're doing the strategy, Laegjarn. You're- er, that is, it's wonderful." She felt her face flush and looked away.

Laegjarn gave a gentle chuckle, the general's hand finding her own and giving it a squeeze of comfort. "It's funny. I feel like something good will happen today, even in the midst of all of this awful war and bloodshed."

Laegjarn smiled. What an odd confession- yet she felt it was genuine, coming from Kasumi. Then again, the healer did carry a surprising amount of hope, especially regarding those who had none for themselves. "And I hope it does happen." She leaned into the shorter woman's shoulder as the two gently dropped hands, returning to their preparations.

As Laegjarn headed away, Kasumi hurried in the direction of the stables, Zitronnen's reigns clenched tightly in her hand. The horse gave a snort, yet seemed to understand the strange foreboding feelings she carried more than even she could. She could not shake it, even after admitting aloud to Laegjarn- something was going to happen, just beyond the horizon. And it would happen soon.

Something did happen soon, but it was the approaching booted feet that stopped before her. She looked up to see the crossed arms and smug but thoughtful expression and white hair on that familiar face.

"I saw the heirs of Nifl and Muspell just a moment before." Kempf's expression was serious as he spoke, looking Kasumi up and down. "Whatever could such esteemed leaders be planning, I wonder?"

Kasumi gave a small smile in response. It wasn't that she didn't trust Kempf, but she felt her heart was in her throat with worry. Not only for their flight to Nidavelir that loomed like storm clouds up ahead, but the already encompassing storm that was the invasion of the capitol. There was so much out of her control to do, and the ones she cared so much for were heading directly into it- she believed in their strength but still, who knows if they would be safe?

So she made a safe reply in what she hoped was a steady tone. "Oh, they're just preparing to investigate the area around the capitol. To make sure the other villages are secure, and not in danger like the capitol." That was true, Laegjarn had been flying around the area and had been concerned regarding a few villages that she planned to check, with it being in addition another means of covering their advance towards the border of Nidavelir.

The explanation seemed to satisfy the Friegan knight, and he put a gloved hand to his chin with a satisfied smirk. It relieved Kasumi to see, not just for the safety of Laegjarn's careful strategy but also peace of mind for the proud and haughty general. She had met Kempf in battle a while back, when the Order was charged to capture him under their contract in another world, as they had many others. Ursula's had been before her time, and she had not been involved in the ones that lead to Death Knight's or Heath's joining. Only the Delthea whose thoughts were clouded by a wicked spell she had fought to save, and that had been months ago. The poor child seemed to have adjusted well, and though it understandably made Delthea uncomfortable, the one who seemed her twin in all but personality was starting to settle into life in the Order, occasionally even visiting some of Kasumi's companions as well.

Kempf, on the other hand, had struggled greatly. He spoke out indignantly on the uncouth behavior of the royal family (Whelps, he called them, and it made Kasumi smile somehow) and took blow after blow until he could no longer stand and at last the contract was made.

After that it had been Kasumi's task to heal the proud Friegan general, and in contrast with his deathly silence it was a relief when he began to, half-conscious and unwithholdingly bitter, mumble angry tirades about his peer, a man named Reinhardt. Since then he had been someone the healer could count on, if not someone who she only saw on occasions. And on that day he had offered to help with the patrol, seeing as many of those she knew were busy preparing for the journey to Nidavelir looming ever closer.

"Such a task is hardly suited for the heirs to the thrones, do you not agree?"

Kasumi did not respond. She could agree to part of Kempf's words- she did feel worried for Laegjarn and Hrid, even though she was sure they could hold their own. Somehow, she had thought they all might be free from conflict and war for just a while longer, but it was not so. And she would not turn a blind ear to the plea of the man who had traveled all the way from Nidavelir to petition for the lives of his friends and fellow countrymen. But she didn't feel it had anything to do with their royal blood on the contrary, and she worried just as much about everyone else as well. None of them should have to do this. It had something to do with the Summoner and Askr again- why did it seem they were always involved, dragging innocent lives into their wishes for glory or control?

"I wish they could spend more time in their kingdoms as well, General Kempf." After thinking it over she replied to the Friegan at her side. "But if we want to try and save the lives of those in Nidavellir and get to the truth of this war, we have to go. I don't think any of us would stand idle, Laegjarn and Hrid included." Besides, she thought with a shade of bitterness, it seemed like it would be impossible for them to return to their homes without much negotiation. Nifl and Muspell, after all, were both now jointly-controlled by Askr, and for safety, or control's sake, their royal heirs were mostly all residing in the Order's base.

"I appreciate your diligence, child." The Friegan general's voice was cold, with a hint of irritation in it that he made no effort to hold back. "But you needn't concern yourself with those strays." His eyes narrowed, giving a dismissive sniff, and Kasumi couldn't help but follow the cold gaze to where it rested- the Elibean mercenary who was currently packing some of their things to the saddlebags of their horses and wyverns.

"Heath?" The healer's voice was questioning as she turned back to face Kempf without missing a beat, tilting her head in a questioning way. "Maybe he's not been here for as long as Laegjarn and the others, but what's the matter with that? You've hardly been here longer than him, to be fair." There was a slight nudge of teasing in her voice, but there was no cruelty or dismissing in the healer's tone- in a way it made him more irritated.

"Well, that- That's not the problem here!" He couldn't help it as his voice became more agitated, but tried to steady himself. They were naive, Kasumi and her group- just children in the world of battle and strategy, unlike himself. It was up to him to guide them- and teach them what irredeemable scum these sorts of traitors are, he thought with a wry smirk.

"He works hard, and doesn't hurt anyone unnecessarily...." Kasumi's voice was clear, even if she didn't understand his real points her own thoughts seemed sound. "I think he's great!" But at the last line the Friegan could not help seeing a slight red flush on the healer's face. Ah, so that's how it is. No wonder she wouldn't see his unflappable reasoning, he thought with a smug chuckle.

The healer must have taken note, as Kasumi broke off eye contact, looking down in a self conscious sort of way. "That is to say.... he's a good person and an important person to fight alongside. Maybe you don't trust him.." Hah. What an understatement. And I never will, Kempf added in his head. "..But I believe in him, and I'll be there for him. And all the others too."

It seemed like the silly fantasy of a child, but something had changed in the healer's tone, even in the time since they'd met. There was something more steady, more confident. As if the grand words of protecting others were something she could actually accomplish- something she would accomplish without any doubt.

But the strategist had made his decision. "Very well. If you wish to keep company with backstabbing traitors, it is your own grave to dig." Despite the cruel words, he couldn't help wanting to see what would happen- how, if at all, the little healer would achieve success. "But you had better make it back alive. There is still a space below my grand accolades that would be reserved for you, if you can make it." Of course, he would be fair. Someone who had assisted him, however slight and accidental, would not go without some meager reward.

The healer gave a smile, not a fitting look for one who would be preparing for a potentially dangerous and deadly war and its tasks, he thought with slight disapproval. However, though they were summoned under Askr, the motivations of the Heroes were different than that of the kingdom's leaders. He could hardly think Kasumi was out to cut down another world's ruler to fulfill her own goals- perhaps it would be a shame, but he could not help but believe in- however slight- the odd and unusual drive of the healer from another world.

She may have decided to make an exception on this occasion, but Ursula still much preferred to attack from the shadows, and the battle torn town that stretched out before them was more than enough reason to doubly firment this in her thoughts. In the sunlight that hid nothing, Askr guards- not those of the Order but ordinary humans, not Heroes- rushing into battle with the unreadable seidjarn of the Nidavelir army, only to be slaughtered as they followed the flag of the Order. Townspeople pushed each other aside, even children and elderly being left behind to their doom, and the more able bodied citizens fighting each other in a thoughtless frenzy, barring doors and leaving their fellows to be killed outside. Some threw fruit or stones at the invaders from Nidavelir, and more jeered at the few Heroes that had gathered, from those desperate on the streets to those barricaded behind walls.

They called them weak, they called them fools. They spoke the lands of Nifl and Muspell with fear and hatred in their voices, and just as many rocks hit Laevetain as they did the Nidavelir soldiers. Yet the young princess general did not budge, not even seeming to notice them as she readied her sword.

"D-don't worry, Princess Laevetain." Ursula recognized the girl by her side- that foolish green haired child, Nino. Well, she supposed she could agree with the violent and desperate crowds on one point at least. "I'll do my best! And you're doing your best too! S-so, don't let it get to you!" She stood her ground at least- it was the very bare minimum, Ursula reminded herself with scorn even in her thoughts- but her legs were locked under her and she clutched her tome close to her chest.

"Don't forget me, too!" Fae smiled, popping up on the other side. She went over to a citizen on the street, struggling and clutching a twisted leg. "Here, take this! It'll help you a little!" The dragon slipped a small bottle into the outstretched hand, before pulling out another phial towards some bruised and cowering children that looked no older than her. She continued, helping those aside with the aid of a few other Heroes before returning to Nino and Laevetain. "Mr. Wrys gave me those vulneraries, so I figured they'd need them as well."

Nino gave a shaky laugh, but her smile was genuine. "That's great, Fae! Good job!" Idunn's sister smiled and giggled childishly- a jarring sight on the field of carnage.

"Okie dokie!" Fae said with a smile after a moment, giving the other two a nod. "Let's go help some more people!" Laegjarn gave a slight nod as she blinked and Nino murmured in encouragement, and the three of them took off.

But there were still troops from Nidavelir not too far away- Ursula could see them even before Knoll's warning.

"Oh, you chased off that brute from Muspell." Someone called crudely from inside a house. "Thank goodness. I'd take those Nidavelir flunkies killing off weaklings on the street over those destroyers any day."

"Or those do-nothings from Nifl! They should be here instead of us, being cannon fodder for these invaders!" Another house called out in response with a brutish chuckle. There was a resounding and cruel laugh from within the first, and it seemed echoed from all around the street.

But the laughter fell silent at the sound of crunching wood. Death Knight had stepped forward, and the tip of his scythe had cut through one of the wooden barricades at a window.

Without even turning his head he spoke. "That is not something that is yours to choose. And if the ones who lack the power to run are weak, then I suppose that those who would not even use their abilities would be even worse." His voice dripped like death, and the streets fell silent.
But the reaper knight drew the blade from the wood, not breaking it any further.

"You...." Plumeria spoke, and her face was stricken with shock. It was not fear, but seemed completely and utterly stunned. Something in her chest felt almost like crying- as if those words, that confrontation had freed something in her.

"My blade is not to be wasted on meaningless things. It is much better suited for drawing the blood of those who can present a challenge." The reaper seemed more lively somehow, and he tilted his masked head at Plumeria. "Perhaps, were we on opposite sides again, you too would pose as such."

"You're right." Plumeria spoke, a hand to her hip as she replied in a dry tone. "We've got to spread out- it'll stop more of them that way. And until Heath gets here I'm the only one who can take to the air."

She glanced around. Ursula fought strongest from horseback, and Knoll also seemed most used to fighting from solid ground. So she cast her eyes on the other two.

"Kaze. Can you follow me to the other side of the town?" The ninja nodded in response, head bowed seriously.

"And Delthea. Hold onto me." It was a statement, not an offer, but Delthea still tilted her head.
"What, suddenly in the mood for a hug, Big Sis Plumie?" She'd taken to calling her that- it was probably a joke, but the dark elf found she didn't mind. "I did wanna fight with Laevetain and Fae, buuut you're right, this is more important now." She stepped forward, taking Plumeria's hand casually. Even so, she gave a surprised yell as the dokkalfr swooped her up, taking to the air across the rooftops, Kaze jumping nimbly close behind with his eyes to their shadow below.
"Watch for enemy archers. We're an easy target for them from here." Plumeria warned as she looked to Delthea, who was recovering from her initial shock and now was scanning the streets below with a careful gaze.

Amid the fighting, a small group pushed their way through the crowds of both Askr citizens fleeing in panic and Nidavelir's summoned Heroes and armed forces. "Get away!" and "Make way!" The shouts rang out. They were with the legendary warrior, the Summoner, after all- a homecoming that needed to be savored by the one who was so cruelly captured by Nidavelir's treacherous ways.

Ichihara, meanwhile, rolled his eyes from under his hood. He had never been to Nidavelir, save that small glade he had followed the Order themselves to. In fact, he had been completely unaware of his whole supposed kidnapping up until the moment he had heard rumor of "the Summoner's" capture just days ago.

Perhaps it was because he had taken to a change of wardrobe. With the help of a few heroes- a deft seamstress-spearwoman who had listened to his request but unflinchingly challenged him to sew some of it himself, and an elegant lady of war who had instructed him on the details of its embroidery. The new garb was black like his old uniform, yet kept some of the same shape as the Summoner's robes he had been made to wear. But unlike those clothes that seemed to weigh like a chain upon his body, the one he had made for himself was light and almost comfortable. He'd thrown away the old cloak as soon as he had returned. The memories of those terrible events, the uncomfortable dream the Queen of Nightmares had trapped him in, he wanted to throw away along with it, but he was grateful to do at least that.

However, it seemed another had found it, or at least there was someone posing as him. What's more, the fool seemed to have gotten themselves captured by the forces of Jotunheim, who turned them over to the Prince of Nidavelir, he had discovered in the rumors that had circulated through town and the Order's grounds.

Although he missed not being noticed by the Order and the kingdom, Ichihara found in his heart he did not want another to be suffering for something that was his alone to bear. So, begrudgingly but not unwillingly, the Summoner had set out for Nidavelir, where "he" was supposedly being held.

That was days ago. It had turned out that it was not as a political prisoner that "he" had been captured, but for the plot of a powerful forest hermit instead. In a way that was almost worse, considering it was another under that cloak- the scheme was to take his life in exchange for a powerful force. Perhaps Ichihara would have willingly agreed not too long ago, but he had changed now. And he would not let another suffer that fate as well.

He had sprung upon the forces, and those of Nidavelir and Askr alike were thrown into a panic. Arrows and spells flew all around him as he dodged swords, axes, and spears- it seemed he did not look too dissimilar to the replicas that the hermit had made, and to them he must have seemed just another invader from Askr. But he had a job to do, and he did so, tackling the hooded figure in the garb he had so often worn and sending them both rolling away from the others, out of sight in a dim glen.

He threw back the hood in a motion fueled by worry, frustration, and anger- why would some fool- any fool- want to pretend to be him? Who in any world would want to be in his position, treated like a tool by the foolish leaders of the Order? His answer stared back with vehemence in his dark eyes, white hair mussed up from the sudden motion as he glared back angrily at the real Summoner.

"Who.... are you?" was all he could say.

"Who are you?" The stranger retorted back in a defensive tone, snarling the words at him. Yet even in the awkward position he seemed to have a firm and controlled bearing to him as he adjusted himself.

Ichihara shook his head. He didn't have time for this. "Never mind. I need my cloak back now. You can take this one." He threw off the cloak- the one he had sewed with care, with all of his hopes for himself- and placed it in the stranger's lap. If he had had time to think he would have been filled with sorrow at the parting, yet he could only think now of how close the Askr forces must be getting, and how he could avoid them ever knowing the "Summoner" was not him. He would not let this stranger, proud and haughty as he was, be blamed for his own faults.

The coat was already slipping from the man's body, revealing the finely pressed forest green suit and armor beneath it, and Ichihara gratefully pulled it from him, wrapping it around himself. There. Now they would never know, or at least he hoped not.

"Go. Before they get back. Run for it." He looked the stranger dead in the eyes, and without flinching he stood, forcing himself to hurry back towards the clearing where the fight earlier had been. He had not seen the white haired man again since then.

Yet behind the royal Askr forces came another group. It was very small, in fact it was of only two people, and they were quite far behind. Yet the two young men watched them carefully.

"That unkept fool is a hero here?" The white haired man snorted in disapproval. "I think this one fits him more, complete with its shoddy embroidery."

The other gave a raised eyebrow. "I didn't expect you to be so strict about such matters," he commented with a doubtful air.

"Well, it's only natural for me to take notice. A keen eye is important for one of a noble house. But even a bit of error stands out, even if the rest is fine." His hands were tight on the fabric as he studied the gold design. "Most of it is....not bad. But it was clearly made by two people." His voice was quiet and introspective, a far cry from the proud and dismissive words he spoke just moments before. "I should know."

Hrid and Idunn stood at the edge of the Order's grounds. It felt like the time had flown by, yet here they were. All seemed to have been able to be set to the plan, as dangerous as it was, and the group accompanying Sindri was nearly ready to set off in the direction of the inventor's homeland. He had been wrapped in thick cloaks and sat atop Amaltheus by Hrid's side, face unreadable yet something of his bearing seemed miserable. Hrid could hardly blame him. He had come seeking a desperate peace, yet hot on the footsteps of his own came an invasive force that would make him an enemy of the very people he had so selflessly entreated.
He let the man have some space, and steadied his horse, turning to Idunn. It seemed like it had been not too long ago the two of them had been being checked by Knoll and the others after returning to the Order. He could not remember any more of that time than before, and he hardly wanted to dwell on most of what he could remember of that terrible nightmare-like place. Yet there had been warmth- he remembered Kasumi, and being called back from it all by that very warmth- the very warmth he felt in the strange but welcoming company. He felt it now, with Idunn, as the members of their small group drew near.

"Prince Hrid." Idunn spoke, and the prince's head tilted towards her. "You have changed."
In response the prince gave a small laugh, putting a hand to the back of his head. "You did not used to smile or laugh this freely."

"I apologize," he replied, but some of the formality in his tone was gone, replaced by an honest sound. "I am not much one to make jokes or smiles. But I have felt better, especially the last few months. I am very grateful for the kindness and consideration you and everyone else have shown me."

"I could say the same to you, Prince Hrid." Idunn replied, her eyes distant yet not cold as she scanned the horizon. "I had nothing, nothing to offer you...... yet even so. I do not know why you and your companions have treated me so, yet I am grateful for it."

It was hardly nothing- even knowing a bit of what had happened to the dragon priestess in the past Hrid could not think that. Besides, he doubted any of them here had befriended Idunn for reasons of wanting something from her. He was about to say so when he heard a soft voice.

"They are here." Sindri's voice sounded hoarse as his head tilted up. Sure enough, Kasumi and Heath were making their way from the Order's grounds to the meeting place. Heath flew low, and Kasumi seemed to be talking with him.

"Anyways, don't pay any mind to him." She spoke comfortingly, and looked at Heath with a soft look. "He's been betrayed, sure, but that wasn't any reason for him to say those things!"
Heath looked away, clearly not completely convinced. But he mustered a small smile at the healer as they drew nearer to the others. He smiled at Idunn and Hrid, stepping off Hyperion, as Kasumi followed in dismounting Zitronnen.

"Lady Idunn and Prince Hrid. We are here." He stood firmly, positioning his spear swiftly at his side, the marks of a former military man. Kasumi followed slightly, standing up straighter yet still holding her staff as usual.

"Heath." Idunn spoke in a soft voice, yet met the wyvern rider's eyes without hesitation. "And Kasumi." There was a lightness in her gaze at both of them as her eyes slowly moved from one to the other. "I am glad to see you both ready."

"Laegjarn should be here soon also," Kasumi continued with a smile, and as if on cue the sound of wings cut through the air. Gwythain landed by the fellow wyvern's side, and in one fluid motion Laegjarn dismounted from the wyvern's back.

"I apologize for the delay, but I have grave news. It seems King Fafnir of Nidavelir has almost reached the throne room of the royal castle."

From atop the horse Sindri moved suddenly, and for the first time his face was visible from beneath the hood, dark eyes blazing with worry and stained with tears.

"No! He can't....." The man crumpled at the saddle, turning down once more.

"Do not despair, Sindri. The main force of the Order is also close behind them, and in their midst is Reginn, Fafnir's sister. I have no doubt if such a confrontation does occur, the Order would not allow any harm to come to their own royal family. Nor would Princess Reginn to her family."

Laegjarn spoke with comfort, yet she felt doubt at the supposed situation she posed. It would be nothing short of a miracle for that to occur, yet it would make their flight not only easier, but not in vain as well.

Idunn nodded. "It is a possibility. And it has not come to pass either way. That alone is reason enough for hope." She spoke to Sindri without faltering, and he seemed to relax just a hair.
"If that's the case we've got no time to lose." Hrid broke the silence in a low voice. "Is everyone prepared to leave? We do not know when the next time we reach the Order's grounds will be." But there were no voices of disagreement, and everyone's eyes locked with the Nifl prince in unflinching determination.

"Heath, if you would?" Laegjarn spoke to her fellow wyvern rider, and he seemed relieved to return to his position atop Hyperion's back. Giving a nod and just the hint of a smile to the mercenary, she turned to Kasumi, an idea playing in her mind.

"And Kasumi, you as well. Would it be possible for you to also accompany Heath to the capitol to find the others? The two of you can cover more ground than a single person." A cloud seemed to have lifted from the healer's face, and she nodded earnestly, adjusting herself to the saddle of the horse as well.

"Well then, we're off." Heath said, giving a small smile to the others. "Let's all meet again at that village," he called, waiting for the nods from the others before Hyperion rushed forwards, swiftly flying towards the capitol city ahead.

"I-I'll go too." Kasumi added. She felt a strange nervousness in her chest. She was relieved, without a doubt, to be going to the capitol. The thought of those she cared about fighting what could be their end filled her with worry, on top of that for the citizens of Askr who were spared from so many of the fights- especially those of the capitol, which had seen hardly any battle compared to the border villages that were so often ravaged by Askr's many wars. It put some of her worries to rest to be heading there, staff in hand- maybe just a few more could be saved.

Yet there was something else, even more than that, that filled her with nervous worry. But she felt she must press ahead, and that preposterously enough, the unknown that awaited would not be a bad thing.

Chapter Text

She'd rode alongside Heath, the shadow of the wyvern knight hovering from above her. But as they neared the town they had decided to split off, approaching from either side to look for their companions. Both ways were crowded with people, mostly Heroes and Askr guards, but there were some civilians and a few battered metal shells that seemed as if they came from the Nidavelir army's forces. The air was filled with shouting and screaming, and that alone was enough to stir the uneasiness to a boil in Kasumi's chest. Yet she kept onward. Where healers were already working she kept going. There were surely those that needed help. Like a strike of lightning a memory- or perhaps something else- flashed across her mind, a scared and crying little girl with a strangely familiar face, dressed in rags in a dark space. But then it was gone.

Kasumi shook her head- there were surely those, of all ages, who would need help. And she pressed forward on Zitronnen, trying to ignore the tears and heat of her own face.
Those memories seemed to resurface as well, without her want or consent they flooded back. When shouting in the marketplace- not that of Askr, but that of a place so far away- was in peaceful cheer. When voices called out her name in a friendly tone- one voice that she would surely never hear again. And another…

"Hey, Kasumi!" She stopped, pulling the reins back, but it seemed Zitronnen had also halted at the familiar sound.

"Chihaya?" She said incredulously, whirling to the sound of the voice. Sure enough, there he was- fluffy hair even more messy with the heat of battle, but a wide grin on his face as he waved from the street. He was kneeling next to a soldier in Askr's uniform, bandaging the young person's arm with a strip of cloth that was quickly turning red.

"Can you help me with this? I'm doing the best I can, but I think-" He gave a smile, yet she could see it was strained with worry.

"No problem," Kasumi replied, lifting her staff up. Others could heal for greater distance, or for more people, but she could do her best with what she had- and definitely help this guard. The healing spell enveloped the injured soldier, and she could see with relief the bleeding seem to stop beneath the bandage.

Struggling to stand, the guard of Askr made it to their feet with Chihaya's support, and the swordsman flashed a grin at his old friend. "Thanks for that!" He smiled, and the soldier as well gave a small nod of thanks.

"Is anyone else hurt?" Kasumi asked worriedly, but Chihaya shook his head.

"There were other healers a while back, but they went ahead just a while ago. I found this guy under some rubble- the others that were there..." His voice trailed off, but the shake of his head said enough. "You've saved this guy's life. Thanks for that."

Kasumi shook her head as well. "It's no problem. Where were the fights earlier?" she asked, trying to think of strategy the way Laegjarn would. "I can head there to check on any that are wounded."

Chihaya grinned. "Now that's a great idea!" His expression turned thoughtful, and he adjusted his hold on the guard, pointing down another street. "I think there was more fighting over there when I got here."

Kasumi gave a nod. "Right. Thanks, Chihaya. Take care of yourself." She followed the street as Chihaya had pointed out, and sure enough the damage to buildings seemed to be growing greater, despite that there were no people, alive or not, injured or not. Maybe there really had been enough healers from the Order, she thought while trying to hold onto a bit of that hope. Yet she was comforted- Chihaya was here, too. Even if they couldn't fight alongside their lord again, they would not give up what they had gained from their time with him.

Even in the dim light of the battle-torn city, Heath could make out a striking sunhat among the crowds below. He leaned down on Hyperion, and the wyvern followed his movements to approach a space to land, clear of any civilians or buildings. To his relief the owner of that hat was indeed Ursula, and by the time he landed he could make out the others as well. There seemed to be no injured townspeople, nor any of the forces of Nidavelir's invasion. Just the four of them- he could make out the horned helm from the shadows of an alleyway, and the dark purple cloaks of the Grado mage as well as he surveyed the damaged buildings and blood stained cobblestone paths with a muted sorrow in his eyes.

Yet all three turned their heads to him, and seemed eager to hear his words. He would not leave them waiting, and Heath spoke before the wyvern had even touched the ground.

"They're ready. Is everything.... fine here?" He looked around, already knowing the answer- it was written on the damaged houses and spilt blood.

"Does it look fine to you?" Ursula replied sarcastically, but her tone was cool and unfeeling as she looked through half-opened eyes at the scene around them.

Knoll was more tactful in his reply. "The civilians that can walk have been evacuated, and a few healers were here just a moment ago to take those who couldn't. They've all been moved from the houses in case there is any more damage done." He had hesitated a moment before speaking, but when he began it was in an almost hurried tone, words spilling from him filled with pain, as if he was feeling the suffering that had been wrought upon the land itself.

"We have done what we were sent to." The Death Knight added, voice unflinching as doom. "Our next task now awaits."

Heath gulped, but he gave a nod. It was true, there was little they could do now. At least the people were safe. That was all he could ask for.

"Don't worry your pretty young head about it," Ursula spoke to him, words dry and caustic, yet somehow comforting in an odd way. "You're doing your part, and you can rest assured that the lives of many of these weak fools will be spared because of that."

It was enough comfort for the moment, and Heath nodded gratefully. In truth, part of him was glad to leave the sorry sight, the scenery that felt as though it was inlaid upon an older and more painful memory.

"And then, once the armor was off, you should have seen the blood!" Kronya described, voice full of delight. It took all of the stoicism and training he had endured as a ninja not to give in to the sick feeling starting in his stomach, and Kaze forced himself to nod. The battlefield that had once been a town, on top of the events of the morning and the unexpected dilemma that had occured, was giving him too close a memory to the times he had spent a prisoner of the castle in the outskirts of Nohr, where he had nearly met his end.

"Yeah, well." Clarisse cut her off, and her eyes flickered to Kaze for an instant in something that just might have been sympathy. "They're all dead now. They'll regret running their stupid mouths." She said with a cold look to the battered bits of metal that littered the street.

"Huh? What are you talking about, Clarisse?" Kronya asked, her tone cold but just a bit teasing. "They didn't say a thing. You filled them with arrows before they could even scream. What a shame."

Delthea turned from where she had been talking with Plumeria, recognizing the familiar voices and running over. Somehow she had found out, possibly from Katarina, that Clarisse was also a younger sister like herself and had been nothing but friendly to the abrasive markswoman. Though Clarisse didn't know how the mage had come by that information, she didn't seem to mind it too overtly, though she wasn't going to encourage her either.

"Hi Clarisse! Hi Kronya! You're getting along now!" Delthea waved as she ran over, and Kaze couldn't help giving the two a warning look. It was a battlefield, of course, but he hoped they would spare the little mage the gory details of their bleeding out enemies.

"Delthea...was it?" Clarisse tempered her reply with feigned indifference, but she turned away, hiding her face behind her golden hair. Kronya waved in return, giving a smile, though she stopped mid-wave as if registering something.

"Oh wait, no. That must have been the other Delthea." She stated, her expression that of recognition.

Delthea fell silent, the smile dropping from her face now. She knew about the one who shared her past, who shared her entire self. The only thing that person didn't share was her future- she was stuck, seemingly forever, as the puppet of those creeps who had abducted her from the village back in Zofia.

She didn't hate the girl- how could she hate herself? But just the thought of meeting her overwhelmed her with such emotion that she couldn't bear to think any longer about it. Especially not at the moment. They hadn't met too many people in the town, enemy or civilian, but the ones they had seen fleeing had said some cruel things about her friends. She hadn't hesitated to give them an earful, and tell them off about their rude lies about Muspell and Nifl, even about Plumeria and the other alfr, but it had seemed to make no difference. In truth, she felt like crying, or screaming, but she wouldn't dare do that now, not with so many people around. She had to act mature- not just so they wouldn't treat her like a kid, but for their sakes too. She couldn't imagine that Plumeria or the others liked having those things said to them either.

So she forced herself to brush off the comment. Worrying about her other self would be for another day. "Oh, is that so," She replied flippantly, maybe too much so, for Kronya and Clarisse fell silent and looked away.

"Well, we'd better regroup with the others from before." Clarisse said curtly, looking to Kronya with a nod- not a friendly one, but one of understanding nonetheless.

Kronya also gave a sigh. She hadn't completely forgiven Clarisse, or Ursula for that matter, and the three of them hadn't worked together since that rainy day so long ago, but at the moment she didn't care. "Yeah, where they are there might be more enemies to stab," she commented in agreement. "Even that bossy Kempf guy has gotten off his high horse and come down here- well, I guess he’s still on a high horse. This time he’s shouting about some mercenary not outdoing him.” She gave a shrug. “Anyways, we'll tell the others we ran into our favorite trope of weakling runts," she said with a look, half teasing and half challenging pointed towards the three of them.

"It was nice to see you guys too," Plumeria retorted, unfazed. "Now go." She shooed her hand at the two assassins. "Go cause a bloodbath somewhere else."

"You know what? I like that dokkalfr," Kronya muttered with a grin to Clarisse as the two of them left, and the sniper gave a small flash of a smile.

The strange feeling had been growing in Kasumi's chest ever since she entered the battlefield, and when she suddenly recognized the weapon pointed at her, it grew to a new peak. Staring down the legendary weapon with her heart in her throat, she managed to squeak out a response.

"S-summoner!" Raising her staff in surrender, she looked down, catching a flash of serious eyes under the hood. Something about that person seemed changed since she remembered seeing him last, as if there was a new light in his young but sunken eyes.

"Why aren't you on horseback, troubadour?" The summoner asked in a dry tone, but he did not seem angry despite the legendary weapon being raised.

"T-the streets are narrow, and now quite damaged. I didn't want Zitronnen to twist an ankle or anything." She started. Worry seized her chest- this time not from any cryptic premonition, but of the very real chance their plan might be found out, or at least complicated. Of all the people to run into, she had to run into the summoner! She felt herself looking around for the three from Askr's highest positions- they never let the summoner out of their sight. And if they caught wind of the plan, they would surely stop it from going through- for an understandable reason, of course, they were the enemies of Nidavelir now. But she still could not think of them with anything less than a fear that even eclipsed that for Nidavelir's forces and the mysterious deadly power they may be tapping into.

"Relax." The Summoner's tone was stern, but it sounded almost sarcastic. "Those three went on ahead to the throne room. But I heard that some villages might be raided in the area around." He tilted his head up. "You're always looking for an excuse to get away, aren't you?" One red eye shone back in the darkness, and it seemed to know all. "Well, here it is. Don't worry, I'll let everyone know of you and your buddies' selfless endeavor of heroics." He spoke the words but they were clearly sarcastic. Yet Kasumi felt grateful- if the Summoner truly meant it, they would have less reason to worry now about being discovered.

With a hasty word of thanks, Kasumi ran off, and the cloaked Summoner gave a sigh, returning to the shadows.

"You're the second person who's borrowed that coat in the last few hours, you know that?" Ichihara replied as his uniform was returned to his hand. He gave a wry smile to the red haired man who held it out, adjusting his long hair with a frown.

"I'd reckon I'm the second person who's been mistaken for you in it too," the Red Priest countered, his voice equally dry and biting. He could hardly recognize the Summoner- the young man with the dead eyes who had been constantly paraded around by Askr ever since he arrived under mysterious circumstances. Now he seemed changed- those eyes were not dead, and the new flame of life beneath them seemed to have transformed his whole being. It almost made Arle not hate him as much.

"It's a good thing replica Summoner relics are not hard to come by nowadays. I'd say it's the favorite autumnal disguise of the capitol's children." He gave a sarcastic snort at the prop weapon- it was finely made, but out of wood and paint and could not even fire anything.

Ichihara gave a sigh. He missed his old coat, but he would have to move on at the moment. Maybe after all this was done he could ask Oboro and Camilla to help him make a new one. But it couldn't be helped now, and besides he had had his own questions to ask the mysterious so-called Red Priest of Askr.

It felt like an eternity had passed before Kasumi finally could make out the forms of the three she knew- and these three almost call friends- standing on the ruins of the street. It was enough for her to drop Zitronnen's reins and run forward as the horse slowly cantered behind as if in respect for the reunion she had awaited so worriedly.

"Kasumi!" Delthea was the first to say anything, though from his bow Kaze had noticed as well. The mage tackled Kasumi into a hug before drawing back, hands on her hips. "What took you so long, you big dummy?"

The healer could not help giving a laugh at the childish pout. "Sorry, Delthea. I was held up with a few things." She'd tell them all about Chihaya and the Summoner later. "But I've got news from the summoner. He wants us to check the villages," she repeated, but gave a wink. As luck would have it, those were the same villages that were in Laegjarn's strategy. As expected from the tactical genius of Muspell, she thought proudly, and could not help smiling with an air that made her feel as if she was off the battlefield, somewhere safe with the kind wyvern general and her friends.

"Ohhhh. I getcha." Delthea copied the wink very obviously, cracking a smile. Kaze gave a little smile as well- they would be horrible at stealth, both of them. But it was a little endearing seeing their faces lighting with cheer, and could not help catching to him.

He was glad he did not have to break up the friendly air between the two, as Plumeria cleared her throat pointedly. Kasumi's expression changed to a slightly flustered one, and she bowed her head in apology. "Oh sorry, Plumie. You're right, we've gotta move out now." She looked around at the three of them, the healing staff now held in a more confident grip. "Are you all unhurt?"

Plumeria shrugged and the others shook their heads. "We'll manage. It wasn't anything more than a couple skirmishes, nothing more than anyone else." She looked around the ruined capitol. In truth she couldn't wait to be rid of it. She had harbored for a moment the idea that seeing it again would free some long repressed bitterness she had harbored for this place, much like her childhood home. But seeing it destroyed, hearing the cries of children and violent shouts of adults- it just made the painful memories burn worse like old scars. She had tried not to show it but she truly felt exhausted.

But luckily, the others seemed just as eager to move out, and it was not long before the four of them were far down the road out of the capitol town. There were others there, but everyone was moving with gusto and had no reason to notice the group of Heroes heading in the direction of Nidavelir.

But there was one person to whom they did not go unnoticed. To be fair, he had frozen up in shock as well, and was spotted by them at nearly the same time. Delthea was the first to notice, but when Kasumi followed her gaze, she stopped in shock, once more her heart leaping to her throat. There was something unmistakable of the autumn colored hair of the stock-still man, nor the piercing cold gaze of the one on horseback beside him.

But it was more than familiarity that Delthea felt. The single word left her before she could think.

"Brother....?"

Chapter Text

"Summoned Heroes. You shall assist me."

He had heard those words, knowing they were as real as the solid ground he felt beneath his feet. This place seemed a shadow, a deathly one, as if it were born directly from his memories of that day- the bodies that had lain before him, too young to have been slain, he wished without any hope.

But with those memories- with that shadow of death- there came the inseparable rage and spite. The fool who ordered them about- this general with his conceited and lofty demands and eyes that seemed to regard them all as nothing but disposable pawns- he would not serve such a blowhard. Nay, he would defy this arrogant fool!

But even when he left, turning hard at a fork in the road, he was followed.

".....You are delayed."

"It's a bit hard to follow this place," one of the summoned Heroes stated apologetically. "With all the traps set about it."

"....Were there not two others?" But the tone shifted in disinterest. "Not that it matters. This is enough for the moment."

It was enough to stall the Order of Heroes that approached, and not even as toys or pawns did that one care about the missing two- they were, to that person, not even worth a passing thought.

He had noticed the footsteps for some time, but it was only after he was a good distance from the place they had all been summoned and he could sense no more of that cloudy air of the one who had brought them that the knight turned around, pointing his spear at the one who had followed him.

"Stay back, villain! What business do you have following me here?" He didn't recognize the man at all- his hair was an autumnal color of cascading reds and oranges, and his capes seemed to indicate him as a mage.

"I could say the same of you," replied the mage from the defensive stance he had swiftly taken, his eyes scrutinizing his opponent. He had to admit, for a no-name mage, the man's gaze was remarkably sharp, as if perceiving his every intention and already on guard.

He gave a scoff. "The business of a knight of-" He stopped, remembering. No, he had rejected them long ago, too. Just as he had rejected them now- and like then, it had not made any difference to them if he left. The thought left him in a moment of melancholy, but he hardened himself, chasing the empty feeling away with angry thoughts. "In any case, my business is not yours to know, mage." He spoke the last word with a spiteful biting air, and glared at the stranger with disgust- as if that stranger were all that he had ever despised.

The mage gave a sigh, and for a flicker it was as if his older sister was standing there before him- it was the knowing sigh of an older sibling. That flicker faded as quickly as it had appeared, but it was now curiosity coupling the rage he felt as he studied the mage.

"It's clear you're leaving them. I guess this summoning isn't strong enough to force us to follow exact orders, or it's weaker with distance." He spoke in thought, glancing about at the barren and dead trees that surrounded them. There was no sign of the other summoned Heroes and the general, not even a rustle or a voice on the wind, save for their own.

"Is that so...." It was interesting, he thought- perhaps they had a chance of escape, after all! The thought almost made him smile.... but he remembered what he was doing, and anger overtook the momentary relaxation in his face.

But even as he felt his chest burn with rage, he could not find words to spit at the mage, stranger and unremarkable as he was. On the contrary, it was another thought that was starting to creep into his mind. Perhaps, if they were both separated from the summoned Heroes......

"Mage. I have a proposition." He spoke the title with an air of superiority, but it was much less vindictive than his first greetings had been.

"Oh? Whatever could it be?" The mage tilted his head, lowering his hand from the thoughtful position at his chin. Then with a bow he added "my lord." It may have been sarcasm, but the former knight decided to take it at face value- a wise respect to address him as.

"As you have foolishly wandered off from your other... " He would not call them "Heroes", even if it was a title- such unworthy fools did not deserve such a word. "...from the others called here," he amended. That was better. "I will deem you a place to accompany me."

"O gracious lord," the mage said, this time he was sure it was sarcasm, but he pretended not to notice. "Where might we be traveling to?" The tone carried some seriousness at the end, though, and he thought on it.

The question was genuine, and his answer was as well. "Somewhere far from here." There was anger in his voice, but it was quieter, and more wary, with none of the attacking tone as before.

"You can say that again," the mage replied, and for a moment he felt as if they were not strangers but two friends, two comrades in arms, together in a dangerous situation.

"Del...thea?" He asked, almost doubting that that was the sound of his own voice. He could hardly feel the ground beneath his feet, and it was as if he was spinning around at an unwieldy speed. Was this real.... could this be real? If it was then....

"Luthier....?" The voice that answered back left no doubt- that was the tone of the spoilt little sister that so often had aggravated him- complaining about practice and constantly teasing him. Yet he had missed that voice, he had missed those times in their tiny village when their bickering and arguments had so often filled the quiet air. It seemed like he had spent an eternity wandering since then. But that eternity was over.

"Lu!" The girl rushed forward, and a smile dawned on the young man's face. Then the hands curled into fists rained down on his chest, and he found his littler sister's usually harmless attack had more force to it now. It was enough to make him flinch, putting his hands up.

"Ouch! Delthea!" His voice rang with clear shock. "When did you get so... strong?"

"Uh, since forever?" The mage girl placed her hands on her hips. "Anyways, is that any way to greet your long lost little sister?" She glared him down and he was inclined to retort.

"You're one to talk! The first thing you did was punch me on the chest!" He countered. The affectionate annoyance that filled his head was so familiar that he did not notice it replacing the tears.

"That was nothing. Weakling." She huffed, crossing her arms. "And you're the one who always goes on and on about training," she went on, rolling her eyes.

"Magical training," Luthier clarified in a stern tone. He was unaware of anyone else or anything else, and the two of them might as well have been back in that sleepy village in Valentia. "In any case..." But the footsteps finally caught his ear and he looked up from the start of his lecture. All around them was gathered a group of people he had never seen.

One man wore the unmistakable robes of a dark mage, and a woman next to him was clad in similar ones. Were they here to attack? The others did not seem to be dark mages, however- a man clad in armor such as he had only read about in books of the continent across the sea, armor that hailed from the land of dragon-mounted warriors. There was another in even more unknown garb- it seemed like that of a thief, but something was unmistakably different in the makeup of his clothing. There was one other woman, taller than the other, who seemed to be a mage from the tome she carried under one arm, yet her clothing was utterly different from any mage of Valentia. By her side was another woman, even stranger looking in appearance as she seemed to have wings like a giant butterfly sprouting from her back and vines interweaving with her skin and hair. And in the shadows there was an armored figure who he could have easily assumed to be a cavalier, if it was not for the face that shone back hollow, like a skeleton.

And tilting a head with a look of confusion but unmistakably flushed cheeks, was a brown haired young woman who met his eyes. Luthier stopped- there was something strangely familiar, as if something had clicked. Then he remembered.

"You're the one.... in that storm."

The woman gasped, pressing a gloved hand to her mouth. "It... it was you....the two of you?" She looked on the verge of tears, and Luthier heard the knight move forward. He had forgotten about his traveling companion as well.

"Yes." The knight spoke, pursing his lips. "I cannot say what compelled me to act, nor what this peasant mage thought as well. Yet we did so, that is true." His tone sounded cold and distant, yet it shook as if he was terribly hesitant under the haughty tone.

"Ah!" Everyone turned as the silence was broken, following the direction of the surprised exclamation. All eyes rested on Delthea as she pointed at Fernand accusatorily.

"I remember him! He's that guy that turned against the Deliverance guys and was always getting in our way! What's he doing here?" Her tone shifted to the question in a nonchalant way, but she still stared down the taller man with a glare that would have rooted anyone to the spot.
The knight hesitated before he spoke, eyes diverting as if to not meet those of the childish mage. "My name is Fernand, child. And you are correct. I have no reason to give my life for those fools and their shallow goals." He spat, the word of the group he had once helped found lingering in the air like a foul stench. Yet he would not speak cruelly to this child, especially not the sister of the one who had saved his life, loathe as he was to admit it.

"But your brother is different." He spoke after a moment, and something had changed in his tone, even as he still refused to make any eye contact with any of the gathered group. "I.... do not have any reason to despise him. In fact...." He shook his head, turning away from the group as he walked slowly from the gathering.

That was that. The mage of the peasant village had reached his destination- he was reunited with the family that he had. There was no reason for him to stay wandering, especially not with the one who had been his enemy. Fernand hated it- the sinking feeling in his chest that made him want to stay, that made him want to beg Luthier and the others to take him with them. Yet he would not. His place was not there.... where it was he could not say, but it was not....

"Where are you going, Fernand?" The voice stopped him, but at the last moment he decided not to look back. Yet he could not bring himself to take another step away.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he spoke. A noble must keep decorum in his words and posture, even among farmers and strangers. "You have no reason to stay away from your family now, Luthier. Nor do you owe me anything."

"That doesn't answer the question. Why are you leaving?" The stern tone countered. Fernand gritted his teeth- his well thought reply was wasted.

"You have no need of me." He would keep his voice steady- he must. "As your sister said, I am your enemy."

"Former enemy," Delthea corrected. "If you haven't already noticed, Mister Fancy-Pants," she continued in a mocking but childish tone, "we're not in Valentia anymore. So all those things don't apply. I mean, even Duma and Mila have to act all chummy back in the castle."

The gods... the gods of Rigel and Zofia, who had sent their nations to war? It was enough for Fernand to do a double take. "Got your attention now," The mage replied smugly.

"T-that is nonsense. Surely you are still following that-" Fernand sputtered, trying to keep his composure- he had decided to not attack the sister of the person he had grown to trust, and unfortunately that extended to her companions, or possibly previous companions, he thought with a hope creeping in that he could not stop. "That... farmer's son.... Alm."

"Nope. He isn't even here," Delthea replied, unfussed. She could not see the man's expression but she did see his body twitch, and could not help grinning. This was turning out to be quite amusing. "And there's plenty of even more interesting people around, anyways."

Ursula agreed. She couldn't claim any credit for the little mage's absolute verbal toying of the stranger- that was all her own quick tongue. Yet it made her feel proud of the girl who had so often fought alongside her.

Luthier, on the other hand, could not help feeling half-embarrassed and half-proud. At every turn he had wanted to scold Delthea, or tell her to stop, but he could not find the words to speak. He thought without second guessing himself, and found he truly did not want Fernand, as bossy and haughty as he was, to leave. In a strange way he felt as though he had enjoyed his company in those strange and lonely days.

"So, do I have to convince you any more?" Delthea asked in mock innocence. "Or do you admit defeat?" She smiled sweetly. The tables were clearly tipped in her direction.

"Sir Fernand...." Why was that voice so familiar? He had been called that, by that voice.....

"If I may be so bold, please stay. At least for a while."

Ursula shot Kasumi a look, and Plumeria did as well. What was she saying? Wasn't this supposed to be a secret mission? Yet there was something in the healer's face. It reminded Ursula of the look she had seen from the healer many a time- to Delthea, to Kaze... to herself. So she merely folded her arms. Let the child do what she pleases. If there was a mess to clean up, it would be hers to clean.

Plumeria was less convinced. "Kasumi," she hissed under her breath. The man did not seem to be one of the more perverse mortals she often encountered, yet he seemed to have the air of a nightmare all around him. The other too... it was as if he was a living target for Triandria's sort of nightmares. Yet he was Delthea's brother and seemed decent at such, and she would not willingly separate a family that cared for each other in any respect.

The name reached Fernand's ears, and something in his heart dropped. He had never heard that name before. But he did not feel like leaving either. Even if it meant admitting defeat to a child.
So he turned around, raising hands in a mock defeated pose. "Have it your way, little mage."

"My name is Delthea," she answered in echo of his own words, and held out a hand even as she met his eyes with a devilish expression. He took the hand, and as Luthier had implied earlier, the grip that returned the handshake seemed surprisingly strong. "Good to be working with you, Fernand."

"Likewise, Delthea." He managed, trying to mask his surprise. But he had a feeling Delthea had noticed, as she gave a small smirk before dropping the handshake, walking to her brother and nudging him as she muttered something to him.

"E-excuse me? Delthea, how on Earth do I owe you anything?" He exclaimed in confusion, turning around to his sister, who was now cackling as she headed down the road. "Delthea!"
Kaze gave a shrug before following after the two, and the whole group began to start to move. In a way it reminded him of his own childhood- he and Saizo hadn't argued much, but they had had their moments. But he could tell that the two were happy to be reunited at last.

"Um, Sir Fernand." Kasumi spoke, and Fernand's head turned. The healer, he could see, had a horse as well, a honey colored one that seemed a capable animal and stood patiently by its rider's side.

"Just Fernand will suffice." He found he did not really care to be called by any title, at least in the moment. In this place, he would do without it- it was not Valentia after all, and any title from there meant nothing here.

"Fernand... then. We're heading somewhere that could be dangerous... are you okay with that? I need to ask Luthier as well."

He doesn't get a title either, Fernand wondered for a moment, yet the familiarity did not seem strange to him as much as he would have expected to think. But he pondered the words for a moment.

"I will not speak for... Luthier," he started, feeling inclined somehow to finally address the mage by his name. Their situation had changed, after all, and he felt he must oblige it. "But I have no qualms with such actions. It was my decision to accompany your group, and it would be of ill decorum to change my mind after doing so." He somehow wanted the strange healer to be fazed by the curt tone and flowery words, to assure him that no, things would not be different here than in Valentia.

But she only shook her head with a small but gentle smile. "Even so, you've got every reason to let us know if anything is wrong. Or if you have any questions or anything."

"I have one," he spoke before he could stop himself. But he forced himself to ask it. "Where are you from.... Kasumi, was it?"

Kasumi tilted her head. It was a strange question, yet something of it felt familiar. She thought a moment before she replied.

"Izumo. I'm from Izumo- or at least that's where I've lived before coming here. It's a neutral duchy between Nohr and Hoshido, but it's kinda small." Fernand stared back, blinking in astonishment. Of course, he was from the same world as Delthea- he probably had no idea what those places were. "Sorry, that probably doesn't help."

The knight, or former knight blinked again, but then he shook his head. "On the contrary," he spoke, and there was something genuine in his tone. "It gives me a new topic to research when next there is access to the proper resources." His words were still lofty, but there was a sound to his voice that seemed so earnest it could not help but make the healer smile.

Luthier could not shake the feeling, no matter how the moments grew to minutes and the minutes steadily into hours, that he had seen the horse riding healer before. Yet it seemed to contradict all explanation. In Valentia, those who could perform healing magic were the likes of clerics and saints, and never had they been accustomed to riding atop horses. But the familiarity could not be shaken, try as he might.

Finally he had reason to approach her, but it was not for the purpose of questions. On the contrary, it was for a much more critical matter for that moment.

"Would someone please tell Delthea that it's her turn to be lookout?" Mid-argument with his sister he could not help calling to no one in particular at first, but mid sentence he noticed the dark eyes of the healer meet his own. To his surprise, she cantered over to where he and his sister had been arguing.

"Delthea, if it would be alright. We should be at the village we were going to meet Laegjarn and the others at." The healer offered, leaning down to talk with his little sister. He saw Delthea's eyes light at the name, much to his surprise.

"You mean, you're ok with me being the first person to spot her? Sweet!" Delthea grinned widely. "I can't wait to tell her! And Laevetain too! We can finally gossip about our big siblings together!" She grinned mischievously as she ran ahead.

"No, not running! You'll be spotted in an instant!" Luthier called back in scolding, and as his sister slowed to a walk he shook his head, burying it in one hand. From the horse that was walking at his own pace came a chuckle, gentle and not mocking, and Luthier could not help asking through his hand.

"How do you do it?"

The healer gave a shrug, making a quiet sound. "I dunno... I don't know either, really. I don't have any siblings, which is weird...." She felt a strange sense of deja vu at the words, but in a strange way it made her smile. "... but your sister is a good kid." Luthier met her eyes with doubt, and she felt compelled to continue. "I mean it! She's talented and knows it, and I get how that can be....."

"Utterly frustrating?" Luthier finished, and Kasumi gave a sigh. In a weird way it seemed like she might even understand.

"But I grew up in a tiny village too, so maybe I can relate. Just a little bit." She made a motion with her thumb and forefinger, and the smile she gave along with it Luthier could not help thinking was a little cute in its awkwardness.

"Is that so? I can hardly imagine you were as much of a handful as she is." He said, but he could not help but feel a bit proud as his sister now scanned the horizon with a careful eye. The woman with the butterfly wings was hovering- hovering! by her side, but he felt himself crack a wry smile- it seemed Kasumi hadn't been the only one playing older sibling to his sister in the time she had spent in this world.

Kasumi sighed, but there was a smile on her lips. "I don't know.... I feel like I was a lot different as a kid."

She had a point, a person could change much with time. Maybe he- gods forbid- had been the same way before Delthea was born. It made him shudder a bit at thinking of himself over ten years ago causing all the trouble that he remembered Delthea doing. "You raise a good point,” he replied morosely.

The young healer gave a laugh- it was gentle, not mocking in the slightest. "I don't think there's anything wrong with that, though," she replied thoughtfully. "Things can change.. people can chance, or things can change them. Or both, I suppose," she mused, and Luthier could not help but notice the slight wistfulness creep into her voice.

But it passed in a moment, and she met his eyes next with a smile that seemed almost shy. "In any case, I'm glad we could meet- er, all of us." She looked down. "Delthea's told us a lot about you, it almost felt like we got to know you a little as well." That must be why, thought Kasumi. That must be why he seemed so familiar.

Luthier would have ordinarily shuddered to think what Delthea was telling others about him behind his back, but he did not feel worried about it at the moment. There was something comforting about suddenly being in the midst of other people again- that is, people who were not trying to murder him or kidnap his traveling companion.

"Luthier." The tone sounded serious, and he snapped to attention. The healer leaned down to him and he could see that her eyes seemed clouded with a grave seriousness.

"Yes?" He replied curtly. He did not know why, but clearly there was something serious that needed discussing. His thoughts flew to Delthea first- had she gotten into trouble in this world as well, somehow?

"Is it Delthea? Did the... did the Duma Faithful....?"

Kasumi froze, as if understanding his meaning. But she looked over to the little mage, who seemed to have two bodyguards in the winged woman and the well-dressed mage who stood on either side of her. Her words were slow and deliberate, not leaving her gaze from Luthier's sister.

"Delthea...." Her eyes lingered on the ponytail, "...is safe. She has not encountered any of the ones who..... took her before."

Something seemed off, but Luthier would ask for clarifications at another time. "Then you wanted to discuss something else," he continued.

Kasumi met his serious gaze in silence for a moment before nodding. "That's correct." She glanced around at the others, nearly stopped in motion as even her horse stilled. "Luthier, what we're.... what we're doing now could get dangerous. But we all decided to do it, even Delthea."
Luthier nodded. "It was dangerous in Valentia too. But I would not part from Delthea for the world, even if it costs me my life. Her powerful magic....no, more than that. Her life, her happiness and future.... must live on, even if I cannot." He spoke without hesitation. He had looked death in the face too many times since he was brought to this unknown realm to hesitate now.

"I hope it will never come to that. And none of us would see you die if we could do anything about it." She said it just as unflinchingly, and he could not help wondering if she meant it for herself as well. "But I still wanted to make sure."

Luthier gave a slight bow. It was a courtesy he had not completely expected, but it was a pleasant surprise. "Thank you for making sure. And rest assured I will give you and your group everything I have."

"M-my group?" Kasumi seemed taken aback, and the horse moved suddenly. "Er... I'm just a healer... you see, we're part of the Order of Heroes," she began to explain.

"Order of Heroes? Do tell," Luthier replied with a patient smile. Something told him this would be a long story, but he was more than curious enough to listen.

Chapter Text

As the daylight crept away to the gentle curtain of dusk, the group made their way from town to town. It wasn't long until they met up with Heath's group, already helping in the first town, which had suffered damage during a fight between Nidavelir and the Order as they both had made their way to the capitol. The people there seemed less cruel than those of the capitol, and had no snide remarks or stones to throw at any of them. They were cautious, but opened up a bit upon news that the strangers, bearing formidable weapons and in a sizable number, were of Askr's army.

After the repairs had been completed, the villagers had invited them all to stay for dinner- a small and measly amount of food, yet they prepared all of it. The leaders of the village apologized time and time again that they could not prepare more, and it did seem that around the village there were spots that had been worn by something that was now gone. Perhaps the scant amount of food had been related to these missing things.

"It would be our pleasure to stay, but I'm afraid we must continue onwards." Laegjarn had politely declined with a sympathetic sorrow in her eyes as she bowed before the one who had invited them. "There are other villages we are tasked with visiting." She seemed relieved when the villagers, with disappointment apparent on their faces, gave nods of recognition.

But she pulled from one of her own saddlebags a cloth sack, stuffed with dry foods, rice, and other provisions. She lifted it with ease, but it looked to be heavy as she sat it before the villagers, whose disappointment turned to incredulous surprise.

"These are provisions from Askr to help in days to come, and as recompense for the damage caused in this war. Please use them freely."

The villagers stared in shock, unable to say anything more. But Laegjarn just gave a small smile, nodding politely before turning back to the others. "We should go while it is still light."

Kasumi had been just as silent, struck by Laegjarn's kindness. As her clasped hands wrung each other, she could not help but breathe out the name with a smile. "Laegjarn..."

"She's really something. I couldn't tell it like that, even to give them the food they need," Plumie stated by her side, her voice low but with no hint of bitterness. "I'm glad she's in this Order, there aren't many mortals like her."

Kasumi gave a nod of agreement, looking over at Plumeria with a smile. "She's great, isn't she!"

As they made their way back to the horses and wyverns, as well as the rest of their supplies, Heath gave a small laugh of relief as he saddled Hyperion. "I'm glad she's been able to do this too. We've seen these villages before on patrol, but there wasn't so much we could do back then. But General Laegjarn- er, Laegjarn helped us in preparing the supplies, what would keep best for the towns over here."

Kasumi stopped in shock atop Zitronnen, only breathing out an impressed "wow".

As if she had overheard them, Laegjarn's voice clearing her throat caught their attention, and the three turned to see the wyvern general with a slight flustered expression. "I only did what I could. These people deserve much more." She looked down, holding the reins up in one hand as if to hide her face. "Muspell is- was- a place where only the strong could survive, at the expense of anything else. Askr should not be so as well." The flusteredness had gone, instead a grave shadow seemed to hang over the woman's face.

Every town was nearly the same- having sustained some damage from a fight previously. With all the manpower of the small group, the repairs and support went smoothly, even in the fading light of dusk. Horses and wyverns could pull wood and other supplies, and the mages could use their magic as well to take out rotting or broken beams to be replaced. Even at one point Sindri had ended up helping Delthea with playing with some of the young children of one village, and at the smiles and laughter that soon arose, his face seemed to return to the smiling fascination he had worn when he first arrived in the Order's base.

It was not long until they came to the last town- the one closest to Nidavelir. It seemed the same as the others, though perhaps it was damaged just slightly less. But just as welcoming were its people, and despite their proximity to the entrance to Nidavelir, they seemed to have more food and provisions than the others that had been closer to Askr.

As the repairs wrapped up, it was clear it was too late to travel, and despite their best efforts, even the strongest members of the group were beginning to feel too exhausted to continue. So Laegjarn had finally accepted the invitation to stay the night, one that the old village elder gave a wrinkled smile at her response.

"We haven't had visitors from Askr since that priest and his young ones years and years ago! What was his name, again?" The village elder raised a gnarled hand in thought.
"May.......Maybey..... Mayson...." The weather-worn voice trailed off into muttering, as one of the younger people went to the elder's side with a supportive look.

"In any case, we appreciate your help." A young and strong man said with a warm smile. "It's very kind of you to offer to help us with the planting."

"And with protection and news about those Nidavelir invaders," another younger person added in a wary but grateful voice. Kasumi tried not to look, but she felt as if out of the corner of her eye she could see Sindri stiffen where he stood. He'd put the gauntlets away in his bag, but even then his garments were distinctly of Nidavelir under his robes.

But there was no more mention of invaders, Nidavelir or otherwise, the rest of their time there.

The glow of the village's humble houses stood out in the dusky sunset, and although it reminded her of the town she had been born and raised in, it seemed so full of a warm and welcome quality she had never felt there- nor she had felt anywhere else in Askr either, save for perhaps the quarters she shared with the ones she trusted now. Despite the humble roofs with not even a hint of luxury, the village was not one of hunger and suffering, and that thought alone was comforting.

Despite their efforts to avoid detection the entire time, not one of them could have sat idly by when the townspeople around them bustled with the summer planting and harvesting. Heath and Laegjarn had taken their wyverns to the fields, helping to spread water and seeds across a larger reach of the land. Even Fernand had, with a sour look but no words of complaint, been convinced to look over and check the structure of some of the barns and sheds. He had begun to refuse the suggestion earlier, out of earshot of any villagers of course, but a few sharp words from Delthea had surprisingly silenced him, the worst thing leaving him now an occasional sigh or glare, but nothing more.

Sindri had found his way to where Kasumi was, adjusting the saddlebags of some of their horses. Those who rode horses had assisted in hunting for edible plants and herbs in the forests a further way off, and had been given a few for provisions as thanks. A kind gesture, Kasumi thought wistfully. She wondered if there had been such kindness in the place she was born- perhaps not to herself, but to others.

"These people are so kind." Sindri's voice was little louder than a sigh as he breathed out, looking all around with a wistful stare. In the light of distant candles his face seemed older and worn out, even as the hint of a smile played at his lips. There was no doubt the man was an inventor of the war-torn kingdom, a survivor of a coup that took many lives- and a truly heroic individual.

Kasumi nodded, following the royal inventor's gaze across the landscape. The fields here, far from the capitol or any contested states like the Treasury, seemed so peaceful, so free of strife. Yet they too had spoken in fear of Nidavelir, the unknown enemy they had been told of. If they had known the same as those in the capitol about Muspell, Nifl, or any of the others, perhaps they would hate them as well.

"Do not worry," Sindri spoke again, as if guessing Kasumi's thoughts. "I do not blame them, nor feel anything against them." His eyes were filled with sorrow, but as he said they were not condemning in the slightest. "There are people like them in my homeland- people who helped me to recover when no one else would. If it were not for them I may not be here before you as I am now. Or at all." He spoke the last words softer, and his eyes were even more somber, as if reflecting on a terribly painful past that only he knew.

"But they shall not be harmed. We have to press on, so that that cannot come to pass." He spoke with determination in his tone, yet it was marked with a great sorrow- there was no doubt that he was fully aware the protection he spoke of might very well mean drawing the blood of the lord he served so faithfully.

The somber mood lifted as Sindri gave a laugh, and Kasumi followed his gaze to see what had caused it- crouching awkwardly and brandishing dried fish like miniature spears on either side of a stray cat were Luthier and Death Knight. Even with the knight's hidden face he seemed just as flustered and determined as Luthier. The troubador couldn't help a small laugh, feeling her chest tighten for that same unknown reason when she saw the mage blow a strand of now-messy bangs from his face with a furrow of his brows.

As Sindri gave a nod, turning to answer a call of one of the villagers at the edge of the clearing, Kasumi felt a shadow fall upon her. Even before checking she felt she could tell its owner as she turned, smiling with recognition. Yet the hidden face that looked back at her had a more somber air.

"Death Knight," she spoke the title, and for what felt like the millionth time the knight puzzled over his situation. Having that name spoken in a tone anything but fear and contempt- it was strange to him. Just as strange as the little group that he had accompanied yet again. He had no obligation to them, not like before when he had been tasked with a charge to complete. This time was different, there had been no orders, no goal. So why had he joined them?

That question was only outweighed by one more that hung even heavier at his side, and with a fluid and deliberate motion the knight acted on it, taking it off his belt and into his imposing gauntleted hands. The healer's eyes widened with recognition, then grew solemn in understanding.

In his hands was the hilt of a lance- a cursed lance fueled by violent vengeance, yet a broken one nonetheless. The two of them had found it months before, on a battlefield that resembled highly that of the land the Death Knight had known his entire life. But this weapon was unknown to him, and something in its power he could not help but wanting to distance himself from. So it had been with relief that he had allowed the Summoner to take it from them, for closer inspection in Askr, where it had stayed for many months.

But now it was back. It had been left for him, but not without apprehension he had taken it.

"You got it back," Kasumi stated, but it was her tone that took the knight by surprise. It was not a sound of fear, of aversion, or even anything remotely agitated. Instead her voice sounded gentle and full of a somber care. Behind the mask he looked, unsure what to expect on her face. The look was one of the same sort, eyes that rested on him and the broken weapon in his hands with a gentle but steady gaze.

"It... should not be mine." He spoke, feeling glad for the warping of his voice. "For just reason or not, it is the weapon of a prince. Of an heir to the throne. Not for someone like me."

Kasumi was silent and he knew she was taking in his words. But still her eyes stayed gently upon him. Then, slowly but not hesitating, she raised one gloved hand, then the other. They rested on his black spiked gauntlets, then moved to the top of the spear's broken hilt. It seemed to radiate an ominous dark aura, but in that moment he could feel it was not one of malice or aggression- it was like a tortured scream of pain, wailing in silence as the eerie eye in the blade swiveled violently.

But then the eye's frantic movement ceased, and it relaxed once more. The sudden surge of energy seemed to have subsided and the ominous presence seemed to have returned to only the average amount.

"I won't force you to." Kasumi spoke, and her words rang of honesty. "If you'd prefer, I'll hold onto-"

"No." The gauntlets closed in one swift motion around the weapon, but the grip was not deathly tight. "There is none, including you, who should bear this here." The eyes glowed red behind the skull mask, but there was something more there than just anger. "I shall keep this, then. Until my soul is wrested from my body, or until this broken weapon shatters to pieces."

Kasumi looked down, a sigh on her pursed lips, yet she said nothing against him. "You aren't alone," was all she muttered as she looked down.

"Sure, no one can know what your true feelings are. But whether we know or not, we will stay at your side-myself included." She looked away, and the somber knight wondered at what true feelings the strange little healer must be feeling at that moment.

I will not lose you... I will not lose any of you. I won't let it happen again.

The dusky sky was fading from the sky, a rosy hue illuminating the gentle darkness of early evening. As the last warm bits of light faded lightly the humble rooftops of the village, warm glows began to appear from within them. Villagers carried lanterns or candles, placing them in the windows cheerfully, and outside a warm bonfire blazed, the smell of roasted meat and vegetables tantalizingly filling the air.

Around the side of the village sloped a gentle hill, and that was where Kasumi found Laegjarn. She sat neatly on the grass, her wyvern Gwythain resting patiently at her side as she patted the wyvern with one gloved hand. The warm glow of the village seemed to illuminate her smile even more than usual, and Kasumi found herself at a loss for words at the gentle glow of her expression.

As if taking notice, Laegjarn's head turned gently to meet the healer's gaze. "It seems we are here again." She gave a little chuckle, and it didn't take more than that for Kasumi to realize what she was referring to. Under the lights of all of the torches the feeling did seem a bit familiar- yet it was nothing like the Temple of Fire in Muspell. In fact, it could hardly be more dissimilar.

"I've probably said it before," Kasumi replied, taking a seat next to Laegjarn as a small smile crossed her lips, "but you are better than that." She thought of Surtr, of Askr, of all the horrible things that had been done, and even to contrast to Laegjarn she could not bring herself to elevate them to the presence of her, even in words. "There's nothing bad or evil about flame, it's all about the person. Just like everything else." She stared out at the town, unaware of the vindictive furrow of her eyebrows until she felt her face soften at the sight of the others, milling about with the townsfolk.

"A-at least, that's what I think...." She trailed off, suddenly feeling self conscious. How lofty of her to talk, especially about the ones she felt so bitterly towards for those same reasons- how hypocritical.

But Laegjarn only smiled, holding out a hand. It was as if her worries melted away with that gentle gaze- the wyvern general's fire was of that sort. It was a fire that burned, firm and steady yet gentle and merciful.

"I may not show it well, but trust my words that hearing that from you means a lot to me."

Laegjarn spoke with a soft voice, but it sounded with a genuine ring. There seemed something so different than in the past, and Kasumi was struck by how much Laegjarn had changed. That she had been there to help her grow to accept herself, that she had played some role, small as it was, to helping her recover from the horrors of her past experiences.

Laegjarn.

She had just opened her mouth to speak when a sudden squeeze gripped her palm. In surprise she followed the arm- Laegjarn's face was contorted, teeth gritted as her other hand balled into a fist.

"Laegjarn?" Now the name was spoken with worry and concern. But the wyvern general did not speak a word in response- instead she only shook, legs unsteadily collapsing to the ground as she made a soft sound- but one that was clearly of pain.

"LAEGJARN!" Kasumi shouted the name now, too afraid to take her eyes off the woman who had collapsed. She rushed to Laegjarn's side, holding her shoulders and turning only slightly to shout the name, hoping someone- anyone- would hear.

"Laegjarn! LAEGJARN!" She frantically looked over the woman's writhing body for any signs of injury, but horrifyingly there were none. Even so, she writhed as if every bit of her body was in horrible pain, jaw still clenched despite the cries she made that caught behind her shut teeth. Her headdress had fallen, bits of the golden piece stained with dirt.

And then Kasumi realized. Under the messed bangs of green and gold, Laegjarn's eyes were shut tight.

She had seen that before. The woman's eyes caked with blood and horrid burns. Her body then was too weak to struggle so, as the last life had left it.

And she knew, without a doubt. That time had somehow returned a second time upon her loved one.

"LAEGJARN!!"

Unable to bear any longer, the wyvern general finally let out a horrible scream of pain that seemed to shatter the fading light of the dusk.

Plumie had heard the shouts from the village. She had little need for good food, being a dokkalfr, but somehow a few of the children had pushed a skewer of grilled vegetables into her hands and upon trying it, she could not help but admit that it was not bad. Somehow she'd found herself a ways from the fire's glow, even chatting absently with Ursula and a few from the village when the familiar sound of pained cries caught her ear. It was as if the cheery mood vanished at that sound, as the villagers' faces instantly fell, turning worriedly towards the sounds.

But she recognized the voice. Not that, but she knew the name it spoke. And as much as she hated to admit it, that mortal would not take that tone without a good reason.

No, she was assured of the genuineness of the despair before the other voice joined it in a deathly cry.

Instantly they had rushed over, Hrid and Delthea closest to the front, but the others were hot on their heels. The sight that awaited them was a bitter and cruel one- Laegjarn, the poised and clear-headed general, the eldest of Muspell who had, despite her parentage, never done anything to cause any of them harm, struggling pitifully on the ground, wracked with a pain that from the first glance seemed gut-wrenchingly irreparable. And at her side, desperately clutching her shoulders, was Kasumi's sobbing form.

Hrid hesitated a moment, blue eyes filled with surprised pain, before he turned away, shouting warningly towards the villagers who had begun to approach and asking for water and any vulneraries that they could spare. The others seemed to break from a spell at the calls, some reluctantly breaking themselves from the horrible sight to search their own packs for supplies. As Knoll had started to go, Hrid's hand gently caught his shoulder, and with a somber face the prince asked him something in a low tone as the two approached from the side.

Knoll observed for a moment, but his face took on one more shadow than usual, shaking his head.

"I am sorry, Prince Hrid. This is nothing like what I observed from yourself or Lady Idunn. In truth, I can say nothing about anything." But that was not entirely true. He felt it- death was in the air. And it seemed to be encompassing the form of Laegjarn, whose struggles had grown weaker and weaker with every second, burning like a horrid flame.

From the commotion of noise or their own pounding thoughts, no one heard the flap of wings until she was already upon them.

"Make way! Move!"

Kaze knew that voice. He had heard it what seemed an eternity ago, but his memory was not failing. Yes, it had been in the spring, he thought as he felt a shiver run down his spine at the recollection.

Yes. Without a doubt, it was.....

"Loki." He spoke, already readying a dagger. Whatever her aim was, he would not let her near them. He would not let her hurt Kasumi or Laegjarn, or anyone else for that matter, again.
But the gaze that fell on him was not the toying smirk, but an ice-cold, uncompromising stare.

"Out of the way, ninja. Unless you want to cause the loss of your lord yet again." The words hit more brutally than any physical blow, and Loki pushed him aside as he could only stare back in wordless shock.

The others seemed to fare no better, and even with the stiff resistance, it was hardly a moment before the trickster of Zenith stood at the opposite side of Laegjarn's now hardly moving form.

"Let go." Her hands were cold on Kasumi's, and the healer looked up with wide, tearstained eyes. She was just as surprised, if not moreso, than Kaze had been, as she had not noticed Loki. Everything seemed to sound fuzzily in her head, as if she was somewhere cut off from anything and everything.

Yet Loki's words cut through even that haze with a brutal sharpness.

"What part of 'let go' do you not comprehend, you silly child?" The tone was as far from teasing as it could be, and if it was not the truth before her eyes Kasumi would not have believed that it was Loki who spoke. Yet she would not release her grip. She wouldn't let... she couldn't lose Laegjarn. Not to Loki, not to anyone. Not again.

"Do you want her to die?" The trickster raised her voice just a fraction of an inch, but it was enough, and Kasumi's grip faltered, a choked sob starting in her throat. In an instant Loki pushed her away and she fell, still looking up at the barely moving form that lay limply in Loki's arms.
"That's what I thought," was all Loki said in response.

No one stopped her as the trickster approached her own wyvern, but Kasumi's eyes followed the green head without faltering, as if afraid the woman would disappear if she as much as blinked.
But just as Loki was about to take off, she ran forward, stumbling unsteadily but with an undaunted desperation in her eyes.

"Wait! What are you doing with her?" She cried out, even as she knew Loki would never say.

The trickster looked to the still form in her arms, then to Kasumi and the others who had gathered. A hint of her usual smile flickered on her face- but even then, it may have just been the light.

"You'll see."

They'd all gone to the largest house in the village, a meeting room that had been prepared for their lodging but that had been hastily re-set up for the impromptu gathering. The elder and a few young people had gathered, dispensing drink and blankets to the group. They had rounded up what few vulneraries they had, but the effort seemed sad now, as not one of them could even guess where Laegjarn was now.

Or even if a vulnerary would help her.

Luthier hardly had known what to make of it. He saw Kasumi, who Delthea seemed to have grown so close to, and who he could admit he was already feeling a slight affinity towards, talking with the official-looking warrior who rode on those dragons- wyverns, they were called. But he had not even spoken to her, and had barely even done so with Kasumi.

Yet he still felt a pang in his chest, as if he wanted to do something- anything to help.
He scanned the room. Everyone seemed restless- some worriedly pacing, like his sister. The woman with the wings stood by her side, but her expression seemed equally worried. The purple haired mage woman stood leaning against a wall, holding a flask of water with a tense expression and speaking in a biting tone towards the two, as well as to the man in the strange green clothes who was standing stiffly, half cloaked in the shadow of a wall beam.

Others were seated, but they hardly looked better. The dark mage was sifting through a book with the other in the dark cloak, and loathe as he was to admit, the man, regardless of profession, seemed full of genuine concern. The woman next to him stared blankly, yet he could not see any malice in her look. Even the knight with the skull mask seemed to not cast a shadow over them of harm, but almost of shelter.

He scanned the room for Fernand, who he caught talking quickly with the man with the gold circlet- a prince, he guessed. The prince waved down another man- a well-built young man in armor with wild-looking hair, but whose expression and voice were both full of earnest concern and worry. His eyes wandered again, resting on the odd cloaked man. From under the hood two eyes met his, and he felt shocked, breaking the gaze away. It was as if the strange hooded man could read his face so clearly- he found he did not like it.

Breaking away, he found himself walking towards the door- maybe he needed a bit of fresh air. But he was not alone. Staring blankly at the window was none other than Kasumi. She was still, even her breathing seemed inaudible, yet he somehow could tell that something was off.

"Kasumi..?" He hesitantly ventured the name, as if hoping the presence of another would somehow defuse the tenseness in the air.

The breathing seemed to grow louder now- louder and faster too, and more unsteady by the second. But Kasumi's gaze was still ahead, at the dark window.

"L-laeg.....Laeg...j...jar...L.Laegjarn...." She repeated the name over and over, voice growing more and more unsteady. Her eyes were filled with tears, but they seemed to roll back as her whole body shook.

Luthier acted before he could think. His hands flew to Kasumi's shoulders, gripping her firmly as he felt how weak her shoulders felt at his hands.

"Kasumi!"

"Look at me!" He half-shouted, eyes meeting hers through wayward strands of hair. But somehow, she complied. The eyes filled with tears met his own, seeming to finally come into focus. But her breathing was still frantic and unsteady.

"Listen to my voice." He said, desperate to find something to say. What would help? He felt as if everything had left him, his usual demeanor most of all. All that mattered- all that he cared about- was calming her down.

"How many candles are at the mantle?" He asked in a steady tone. Kasumi gave a little gasp of surprise, but her eyes seemed to grow steady, focusing on the scene behind him.

"T-three..." She spoke in a broken, hoarse voice. Then another sob left her, and Luthier gritted his teeth. That woman who had been carried away was from a flame kingdom! Good job reminding her, he internally reprimanded himself.

"Now look at me. What color is my headband?"

Kasumi was silent another moment, before she eventually replied. "G-grey..... or... kinda... green-ish gold?" She spoke hesitantly, yet her breathing seemed to be growing more and more steady with every second.

"Good. Now, last one." He looked at Kasumi's eyes. They were filled with sorrow and pain, yet they did not falter.

"What color are my eyes?"

Kasumi's breath caught in her throat, and for a moment Luthier panicked. Had he made another mistake?

But to his surprise, a hesitant smile began to tug at the corners of Kasumi's mouth.
"Brown... they're brown...." She answered thoughtfully. Luthier gave a smile of relief as well. It was only sinking into him now how rashly he had acted, and he was mentally kicking himself for being so forward. There was no way she'd ever want to be his friend after this!

But then it surprised him- the touch of two hands, holding his arms. He looked down in surprise- Kasumi was grasping the sides of his arms. Something in her grip seemed unsteady, as if she was doing so in hopes to not fall to the ground. But there was strength as well- strength that surprised him.

"You... probably want to rest?" He asked, and once more the words seemed to come awkwardly to him. But the healer nodded, as if she was not fazed at all.

"Y-yes..... thanks Luthier," she answered, the two of them making their way to a wooden bench at the side of the room.

Luthier was glad the shadows of the room hid his surprise and the self-conscious flush to his cheeks that followed. "I-it was nothing!" He replied, trying to sound curt and to the point, though he had little faith he had succeeded.

They waited for what felt like an eternity after the elder left, a look of sudden recognition having came across the wrinkled features after hearing something spoken by another young person. Even as she knew how fruitless it was, Kasumi felt a hope rising in her chest. Maybe... just maybe.... The elder had mentioned a priest of Askr visiting in ages long past. Maybe that person had brought some kind of advanced healing! Maybe this little village knew what had happened to Laegjarn! Maybe.... anything.... anything that would save her from this suffering. Anything at all.

The elder and the young people emerged at last, and Kasumi felt her breath catch in her throat. Shuffling along behind them was someone wrapped in a thick cloak. The shape looked almost like Sindri's appearance now, or even like Idunn or Knoll from a distance. But the coat was not purple like theirs, nor greyish-brown as Sindri's outer coat was. Instead it was dark, but tinged in a jagged red at its torn ends. It was a look that seemed to click immediately- the fires of Muspell.

The elder shuffled forward, clearing a dry throat before proceeding in a slow yet calculated tone.
"Eh-hem. Travelers from the Castle of Askr," the elder spoke, tone official. "I understand your plight. We have consulted any records in the village, but there seems to be nothing about Loki, nor about what happened to your companion, the Princess Laegjarn of Muspell."

Kasumi felt her heart drop, the elder's offer of their village's blame for the harm caused falling deaf on her ears. Laegjarn..... was gone. She must be. It was only the fact that Luthier sat at her side that kept her from slipping off her seat to collapse on the ground.

"But we of the village do humbly make a request of you. Do you still plan to travel to Nidavelir from here?" The elder looked first at Hrid, then at Kasumi. The prince, who had stood close to the villagers, also turned back, his ice-blue eyes warm with concern and the remains of wiped tears.

Kasumi gulped. She resisted the urge to look for Sindri- that would only bring attention to him. But she had promised him. They all had. Laegjarn.... she would want them to see that through.
So she gave a nod.

Hrid looked back at the elder, seconding the notion. "Yes," he replied solemnly. "That is still our intent."

The elder nodded, gesturing with the gnarled walking stick to the hooded stranger. "Then if you would be so kind, there is one who also needs to get there, but was without proper protection to make a journey alone."

The hooded stranger stepped forward, but there was still no change in their gait to suggest any trait whatsoever. "You see, her health is poor and she cannot fight, and even besides that it is a perilous journey to make alone. So she has been staying here for the time being. May I introduce Amarna, a wandering scholar."

Amarna gave a small nod. It was enough for Kasumi's heart to make its final sink, and she felt exhaustion overtake her.

Bonus Story: Played Upon a Stage

Hardly any time had passed before the streets of Askr's capitol had returned to normal. Bustling stalls lined the streets, and the faces of the people seemed more cheerful than they had ever seemed before. But of course the ones who passed before them were the members of the Order of Heroes. These people would only be shown their best- that was what Askr was and should be to them.

But even so, today was different. Laevetain remembered the harsh insults and stones thrown at her, just for her birth as an inhabitant of Muspell. It had happened during the attack on the capitol, but even before then not a day had passed without pointed whispers and glares when she had had any reason to go into town.

Of course, she knew the reason. She had seen it herself- just now, in fact.

By her side, Fae smiled cheerfully, talking with Nino about the play they had just watched. The little dragon imitated the effects- smoke, explosions, and much more, as Nino carefully recited some of the lines that the one playing Nifl's princess had spoken. Those had been close, if not the same, as the words Fjorm herself had spoken. As expected, she was part of the Order now, and had remained there ever since Surtr's defeat.

But even as only beaming smiles shown around her, Laevetain's chest was filled with a sinking and bitter feeling. Everything else about it..... had been wrong.

"Laevetain." The cool voice spoke softly, but the tone was clear. Turning her head, Laevetain looked to the one at her other side- Delthea. She was so close to the other one, but the difference in them was just as striking as the similarities. There was a fog around this Delthea- a shroud of something malicious, as if someone else had taken her over for some foul means. As she observed it she could not help thinking of the Rite of Fire, if it would have taken over her in the same way. It did.... it took the life of her kind and brave older sister.

"You are not satisfied." Delthea spoke, and it was not a question. Laevetain could not help but wonder if she was easy to read- perhaps she had changed- softened- during her time in the Order.

For a moment there was silence. Then Laevetain spoke.

"No. Maybe not." She truly wasn't- nothing about the play, which was passed as the history of the war between Muspell and Nifl, had been even remotely true. The Summoner and Fjorm had killed Surtr by breaking through his invincibility and rebirth. Gunnthra, Fjorm's elder sister, had been tortured to death by Surtr, and it had been her brother, Hrid, who had entrusted her with the sacred ice lance. Helbindi, who had not been shown at all, had stalled Surtr with his life in order to protect the youngest Nifl princess, Ylgr.

And most of all, her own sister, Laegjarn, had given her own life in the Rite of Frost to protect hers- it was Laegjarn who had saved her, not the other way around.

"Laevy?" Fae's voice called her out of her gloom, and Laegjarn turned to see the little dragon looking up at her. "Do you miss your big sister?" Her voice was so innocent- of course, to her there was probably nothing troubling about the play. None of them knew well what had happened in the war, but also none of them would trust the words of slander over the real person that they knew.

Laegjarn was inclined to agree, giving a slow nod in response to the question. "Yes. Yes, I do."

"I miss my big sister too." Fae looked genuinely sad, and Laevetain could see clearly the empathy on her face. "But she'll be back soon. And so will your sister, too!"

Laegjarn gave a small smile at the kind words that seemed to lift her sunken heart, even if by only a little.

The group did not notice the arguing duo that were just out of earshot in the bustling crowd.

"I told you, brat. You can't just run off like that!" The man was accustomed to glares from the people of Askr. He wasn't royalty, and all his family was dead. But he wasn't going to change- he had been hated in Muspell too. Besides, there were more important things now. Like stopping that little brat of a princess from going off on her own towards the kingdom Askr had recently declared war on.

"But I saw them! Fjorm with some stranger in a blue and white coat! That's why I have to go find Hrid and tell him!" She rebutted insistently, and Helbindi would have rolled his eyes if not for the strange words. Those were the colors of Nifl.... a horrible thought had flashed in his head, of the old rituals that that land and Muspell shared- a live sacrifice for the ancient lands' guardians.

"No. Way." He crossed his arms. That only settled it further- it was way too dangerous.

"But I need to tell him!" The little girl cried. Despite her youth, her face shone with determination. "Please, Helbindi! I don't want to lose anyone else again!" He knew that feeling all too well, just as he knew the youngest Princess of Nifl had experienced it, just as he had.

Clearly, there was only one option. The former Muspell general gave a sigh. "Fine, you win. I'll go in your place, just tell me what I need to say to your brother."

Ylgr looked back, shocked. "But..."

"You can't go off on your own, kid. You're the princess of Nifl. Your people there are depending on you, and here you keep those trash of Heroes in line when no one else will." The kid was wise beyond her years, and more often than not she'd talked sense into some of the most disagreeable members of Askr's army.

"So I'll go instead. This sorta thing is nothing for a general of Muspell. All this filth, fighting to the death- it's nothing I can't handle." He took a tough tone, yet he still felt a bit worried. It had been so long since he had left the Order- they clearly did not trust him, even now. He had no idea what the battle methods and means of Nidavelir were, but he had to try. For the sake of that brat- for the sake of not breaking up another family.

He was surprised to be pulled into a hug, but it only furthered the determination in his chest. He would not let Ylgr suffer the loss of her family as he had.

Chapter Text

In truth, the village had not been far from the border of Nidavelir, but every step had seemed an eternity to Kasumi. The weather was fair, blue skies as far as the eye could see, but they seemed to be bitter and mocking- beautiful blue skies that that person would never be able to see.

As they had been starting preparations to leave, she had tried to approach the stranger, Amarna. The sight of the ragged robes in Muspell’s hues had sparked a tiny sliver of hope- perhaps Amarna could tell her anything about a way to help Laegjarn. But those hopes had been dashed to nothingness, as the traveler would not even so much as look at her. The elder and the others had explained Amarna’s plight- she had likely lost her home and everything she held dear during King Surtr’s reign, whose ultimatum of strength and destruction could have no use sparing the lives of those who researched and recorded peace. She hardly spoke, if at all, to the others. But it still pained her somehow to always see nothing but the mysterious traveler’s back.

At least she could feel a slight empathy. Gwythain, the loyal wyvern of Laegjarn, had been left behind as well, as Loki had evidently carried her on her own mount. As if recognizing the colors, the wyvern had happily approached Amarna, and a strange spark of impossible hope had temporarily seized Kasumi’s chest- but that too faded bitterly. It turned out the village was known for making a stew beloved by wyverns, and Amarna had been helping with its preparation during her stay there. When the dragon’s face seemed to fall Kasumi could feel sympathy, and stayed by the saddened reptile’s side for the first few legs of the long journey.

But even with time Amarna had warmed up to the lost general’s mount, and had even taken to riding atop her on occasion. It was only Kasumi she seemed completely averted towards. But Kasumi could admit that she was not in the best place to gage the reaction impartially.

Before long, they had made it through the land of Nidavelir. Many buildings seemed to be abandoned, houses mid-reconstruction shifted to makeshift barracks lining the streets. But all through the city they were empty.

The throne room of Nidavelir, as well, was nothing at all like that of Askr. It was hard to tell, from what Sindri had mentioned, that anything had been in disregard or decay, simply from how strikingly different it was. Everywhere they looked the group could see thin lines of metal cylinders, countless in number but each was without a doubt essential to the purpose. A sound like a steam kettle hissed from them as the group passed, and there was a faint but not intrusive hum and clink in the distance, as if the very castle itself was ever advancing with every soft and steady noise. It was nothing like the bricks and stones of the castles in Askr, the red carpets and banners bearing the emblem of the kingdom and glory to the royal family. That was what Kasumi thought as she passed through the hissing rows of pipes. She did not hate it, but despite that she knew she should, she could not find any feeling at all within herself. It was as if she had lost the capacity to feel anything, positive or negative, even as the world moved around her. But at least the constant movement kept her from the shadow of what she had experienced. She would face those feelings- those terrible things- later.

Sindri moved forward at the head of the group, and there was a shine to his eyes and purpose to his step that had been long gone, ever since the day the news of Nidavelir's invasion of Askr's capitol had first reached him. It was as if he had come back to life in this place- in his homeland. But despite this, he moved ever onwards, and it was not a joy of homecoming that lit his eyes but a gritted determination that blazed behind the steady gaze. Robes flung back, the soles of the tight clothed shoes tapping softly at the floor, and metal gauntlets clenched at either side, he looked right at home amongst the pipes of the Nidavelir capitol.

Another striking difference from Askr was the people, or rather the lack thereof. Only a bare few attendants monitored the palace halls, more than half who looked to be unversed in combat and who drew back at the armor and animals of the strangers.

But one did not. She stood at the base of a grand stairway, one that seemed to ripple out at the center with a pattern of more gears than any of them had ever seen before, each as large as a cart's wheel. The woman who stood at the side of this fixture was striking and tall, with serious eyes that commanded them to halt even before her outstretched hand. Her arms were robed in cloth, but even through it her motions reflected an unflinching strength.

"Halt. Who goes there?" She spoke, voice stern and commanding, yet not harsh on the ear. They could not help but comply, even the mounts, as the horses and wyverns seemed to fall still by their partners' sides.

Sindri stepped forward, part of his posture seeming confused for a moment, but he soon continued with the poise he had shown before.

"I ask for your remittance, good lady, I have not previously made your acquaintance. My name is Sindri, and I am a craftsman of Seidjarn who has been under the patronage of King Fafnir."

The woman's stern eyes did not falter. "I see not the King here. Perhaps you can return again when he is present." Her tone was strict but not cruel, and the suggestion rang genuine.

"My deep apologies, but I am afraid I am not here to see my patron the King today." Sindri's head was bowed low, and Kasumi wondered how he could hold back the pain as he spoke his lord's name. Even at the mention of Fafnir, the artisan seemed to be shaken to the core at the uncertain fate of the king he devotedly served, but now he acted as if nothing was amiss. It was enough to start within her just the ghost of a sliver of admiration- for a moment at least.

"Then please elaborate, Sindri the Craftsman," she replied unflinchingly. "What is your purpose here?"

A tense second passed, then another. But then the tension was broken in the most unexpected way- an unknown voice that rang out in the large and open hall.

"Oh, is that Sindri?"

"Yes, I think it is. I bet he's here to pick up his things? He always stops by when he's working on a project." A couple of attendants had stopped at the edge of the hall, temporarily stopping their sweeping to wave towards Sindri before heading into the next room.

The woman's face had changed to a thoughtful but slightly shocked look, as if she was processing this information.

"So you're just an absent-minded artist who forgets his materials in his patron's residence...." She spoke, as if fitting together the pieces of Sindri, his odd friends, and his sudden appearance. "And you must be running behind schedule so you stopped by before the King's own return...."

Sindri was still in his low bow, so his face was unreadable. But curiosity was already starting in the minds of many in the small group. Fernand was giving a small smirk- was this guy for real? He sounds like a real procrastinator, Luthier was thinking, just like someone he also knew. A daring sort, Ursula was contemplating, a hand to her lips. Between faking such confidence lately to these hurried escapades, if the woman's guess was true, in his own unique ways this strange man might be worthy of some of her respect- at least some.

Finally, the woman spoke. "Very well, Sindri the Craftsman. You may stay as long as you need." She lowered her arm, and now the group could see it was wielding a thin but powerful-looking staff with a slim blade running at the bottom segment of it. She continued with a sigh, and something of her earlier aura of impassibility seemed to drop. "Besides, who am I, a stranger to Nidavelir, to stop its child from returning to the land of his birth?"

And it was then they realized that her garb was different from that of the people of Nidavelir. Similar, in some ways, yet different. The draped cloth was gathered at the joints and not as long as the robes Sindri and the others in the castle wore, and the tight cloth that covered her body as well seemed to be lessened, instead ending at the middle of her limbs rather than covering them completely.

"My greetings, Sindri and his company. I am Aurvandil Alta, ambassador of Jotunheimr."

Sindri threw himself fully into the castle as soon as he got a moment to. He had told them, however briefly, that the grounds were theirs to explore or even investigate as they saw fit, and if they cared to they were even welcome to leave. He had thanked them thoroughly, but he seemed to have pressing things on his mind, and quickly excused himself.

"He is, no doubt, deep in research," Knoll had answered when he was asked by Delthea. "I have seen others react like this, when a pressing matter weighs heavily upon them and the only response is to search for an answer. I have felt it myself as well."

"Oh my Mila, that sounds so boring!" Delthea groaned, dragging her hands across her cheeks. "My brother had the same boring old answer, too!"

Luthier sputtered from her side- he hadn't been keen to trust Nidavelir, as it was clearly the homeland of the one who had threatened himself and Fernand when the latter had disguised as the Summoner of Askr. Between that unknown and dangerous place, and the equally unknown and dangerous dark magics of the ones within the traveling party, he had kept both eyes open at any cause for suspicion, not even excluding Sindri from his scrutiny. But it was hard to say if it worried him more than the presence of the dark mage from the land called Magvel. To say it was surprising that the man spoke the same as his own answer would be a gross understatement.

But he was too shocked, and dare he say a bit curious, to keep defensive. "You... you enjoy research as well?" He asked before he had fully processed the words, immediately freezing up. Of course he enjoys research, he thought while mentally slapping his wrist. He's a dark mage! They dabble in horrid magic, like the control of others!

The man only gave a nod, solemn but sincere. "It is true. I only wish my research had been more fruitful to a good cause- in the end it only took more lives than it saved."

Luthier stopped, staring back in shock. He had never thought of things like this- that maybe, even if one practiced a dangerous magical art, they could have good intentions.

"But surely... surely there are some fields of magic that cannot bring such harm. No, not only magic- research in general. Like- like the favored foods of cats!" He stopped, but it was too late. What a frivolous thing to say, he thought while kicking himself internally.

But a small smile played on the dark mage's lips. When he spoke, Luthier was surprised by how gentle his voice sounded.

"Luthier, was it? Thank you for what you said. If you would be willing to, I humbly ask that you show me your own means of research."

"O-of course. Knoll.... is that right?" The man gave a small nod, and the realization dawned on the anima mage. An invitation to research together- this was surely a sign of friendship? Perhaps, maybe just in this world, knowing a dark mage- Knoll, a friend- wouldn't be a cause for concern.

He smiled to himself, unaware that Delthea had walked away minutes ago, leaving the two nerdy mages for something more interesting.

The air was fresh in Nidavelir, and that alone seemed to put the animals at ease, Heath thought with relief as he stood by the side of his wyvern. With Sindri's blessing and the assistance of the castle's few attendants, they had been given leave to tend to their own needs from the journey while at the castle. However, even now Heath could not find that castles, even as unknown as this one, suited him. It wasn't until he had made it to the open air of the courtyard that he felt he could breathe deeply. As if seconding his feeling Hyperion nudged his shoulder and he gave a small smile.

Somehow, thanks to the villages they had stopped at on the way, none of the animals of the group had been in want of food, as they had provided both meat and feed for the wyverns and horses. It had made him happy to see the farms, full into the summer harvest and with a safe prosperity, despite their meager houses, even as the wars Askr waged skirted close to their doorways. But if the people were not used, he could have hope.

It distracted him, as well, from the feeling that had hung heavy over his chest ever since the day they departed. He had just heard it in passing, just by chance, yet the distrustful scoffs of the pale haired general had stuck with him more than any weapon wound he had sustained in the past. He was a traitor- it was his decision then to betray Bern, and he would not hesitate to make it again even now. Yet the words still stung. Of course, he should have known that others would have good reason to distrust or even hate him. He had no ties to any of them, no reason for them to trust him. Even the others from the Elibean continent he hardly knew- Idunn had lived in the time when Eliwood's son was the leader of Pherae, and Ursula had been a member of the assassin's group that opposed Eliwood's. It felt clear and hung heavy and full of a sinking weight on his shoulders- they were all strangers with no reason to care about or even trust the likes of himself.

"You there." The voice struck him from his sinking thoughts, and he turned around- that voice was still new to his ear.

"Me?" He remembered now, this was the man who had joined them on the way to the first village. He had the bearing of nobility, but it was utterly different from any of the lords or ladies of Elibe. There was something starker and more caustic to his posture, as if he was constantly on a vindictive guard against someone or something.

"You are the master of a wyvern, are you not?" He asked in a terse tone, but his glance to Hyperion seemed wary, as if he had not seen much of them in the past, a notion that could not help but surprise and interest Heath.

It was a moment before he answered, moved to by the impatient and urging jerk of the young man's head.

"Uh, yeah, that's right. Though I'm not really a master of it, just a mercenary. And Hyperion's more like a partner than anything else." He explained with a smile he hoped was friendly.

"Very well." The man replied, and gave a curt nod. "It would not do for you to tend to all the animals alone. Have you any familiarity with horses?" He spoke as he approached, leading his own horse. The others had left their horses, and wyvern in the case of Amarna, in the courtyard. It seemed to have no stables, or at least none for horses.

"No, not really. Just what I've seen from everyone else here and in Elibe." He explained, feeling put on the spot.

The knight gave a smirk that seemed just a bit cocky. "As I presumed. In that case, it is only proper that I assist you, as there seems to be no stable hands in these grounds." His tone was lofty, yet even as his words flowed in a condescending air there was something of his manner that seemed lonely, as if he had had more reason for approaching than a doubt in Heath's knowledge of horses. Heath could sympathize with that feeling at least. And besides, they had little choice in the matter. At least his thoughts were given reason to leave the hopeless feeling they had been lost in before now, and for that he was grateful.

"I'm Heath, by the way. Don't think we spoke much before, with all the hurry the last few days. I'm with the Order of Heroes now, like all the others, but I'm a mercenary originally." He gave a smile as he extended a hand.

The man stared back for a few moments, as if debating whether to return the gesture. But when he did there was no condescention in his eyes or manner, if anything he seemed only wary and cautious.

"My name is Fernand. I suppose I too am contracted to this Order of Heroes. At the moment that is all I am." He spoke with a decisiveness as he returned the gesture, and his grip was firm and unwavering.

Even the fountains of Nidavelir were strikingly different, as Idunn observed, stepping out into a side wing of the castle. The water gurgled in a low circle of metal that seemed to glow with unseen light. From the top spouted an elaborate array of cylinders, each extending a spray of water in an unreadable but yet beautiful design. It was enough for the dragon to stop, staring in reflection.

Then she noticed the figure in dark robes by its side. Maybe it was the unreadable shape that brought her to her innermost thoughts, but something clicked. Her eyes focused with recognition as she stepped forward, the words leaving her mouth without even a hint of hesitation.

"It is quite unlike anything you have known, is it not?" She spoke the words lowly and deliberately, and they were not in address to the mysterious scholar, but with an air completely different.

Amarna, for her part, was silent, but she made no move to protest the suggestion of the other woman.

"Why have you not told any of them?" She spoke clearly, voice cutting through the silence in a tone just louder than the gurgle of the water, yet the quiet intensity of her words made them ring without a doubt. "They will find it eventually as long as you remain with us. Kasumi especially-"

But she cut off as a hand extended, wrapped in gauze, from the multitude of tattered robes. And though there were no eyes that stared back at her, she caught a glimpse of bared teeth, a look both of defiance and bitter frustration.

"I... cannot." She spoke quietly, softer than Idunn had, but full of just as much unwavering determination. The look was gone in a flash, hidden under the shadows of the robes once more.

But Idunn did not feel satisfied somehow. It was as if something was stirring, deep in the recesses of the memories that were too stained with pain and anguish to ever willfully recall- the only fragments that had survived from those ancient days.

"As sure as that dragon’s blood runs through your veins, they will find out as I have. Even though I can no longer bear to recover, I cannot forget the sensations that wrested my soul from its past." For just that instant the dragon's words grew dark, but it was not with the darkness of the Demon Dragon- it was something long predating it, a pain unbearable that had preceded even that darkness that once had threatened to engulf the entirety of Elibe.

But in just as quick a moment, as if cooled by the breeze, that tone passed and Idunn's face and body relaxed. It was as if the sensation had retreated back, back into the thoughts and memories far from her consciousness, somewhere deep buried and unreachable. Even at that moment, as she stared at Amarna, she could half convince herself that the person before her was truly as she claimed- a blind scholar who had long wandered from her ancient homeland.

"Very well. My words were harsh and I apologize for that, good Amarna." She gave a nod, and her voice had returned to the cool, nearly emotionless tone she usually kept. "Would you be so kind as to forget this meeting? Of course, I shall do the same."

Amarna barely moved even as the dark priestess left the fountain's side to the shadows of another hallway. Only slightly did she nod in acknowledgement as the two-color gaze rested on her one last time.

The courtyard, it seemed, was not a quiet place at midday. Fernand and Heath soon learned that firsthand, as in the middle of brushing down a few of the horses a bell sounded out, followed closely by the sounds of many shrill voices all speaking at the same time. Soon the sources of the voices approached, many children, young and old, spilling out of the passageways and into the lit square. The children scattered, each doing their own thing. At the edges a few adults stood watch, and Heath noticed several had metal armor on arms or legs, similar to the large gauntlets Sindri wore but smaller in size.

Even as all the children and even a few adults, who were dragged along for a game of tag, scampered cheerily but noisily around the square, Heath noticed that his new companion stayed silent. His eyes looked over the crowd from where he stood at his horse's side, yet they did not focus on anyone before them. It was as if his gaze was far away, on some time long in the past.

Heath gave a little smile in empathy- he could definitely relate. He thought suddenly of that song that Kasumi had played for him- when that sound reached his ears, it was as if he was the same age as the kids who frolicked about, playing with his old friends and their equally young wyverns as Commander Vaida kept a watchful eye over them.

Suddenly he felt a tug from his side, and he turned with a start. Hardly measuring to his hip armor was a little child, their blonde hair like a messy whirlwind the color of hay.

"Hey mister," the kid said, giving his shirt another tug.

With a smile the wyvern rider knelt down, balancing with his hands on his knees. "Yeah, what is it, kid?"

"What're those weird lizard things? Did you bring 'em here? And what about those hairy tall things?" The kid pointed a finger out towards Hyperion, who looked over with a curious glance before turning back to his nap under the sun.

Heath couldn't help and give a chuckle. Perhaps due to the use of seidjarn, children of Nidavelir would have never seen a horse or a wyvern. He didn't envy them, he thought with a smile at Hyperion, who was now back to his nap.

"These are called wyverns. Where I'm from, people ride on them and can soar through the skies." He spoke proudly, smiling as he recalled the happiest of his memories atop Hyperion's back. "See the green one? His name's Hyperion."

"Uh-huh." The kid nodded, staring for a moment before turning back to him. "What about the hairy things, then?"

"Those are horses. People ride them across the land. They're faster than a person moving on foot, but horses spook easily. Then again, wyverns can't fly if their wings are injured by arrows," he explained.

The kid looked shocked, and he wondered why. He didn't have to wonder for long. "That's a horse?" The kid's voice was incredulous. "No way, you're lying, mister! Horses are super pretty in all the books Noct reads! And they can talk, too!"

"Excuse me, child." Heath looked up. He hadn't heard Fernand approach with all the chatter in the air, but now the knight stared down the little child with an unflinching glare. "There is no finer mare than this. She is a beautiful and strong horse, and none other, not even in a book, can compare." He glanced at the other three horses, stopping a moment as if sizing them up. "These ones aren't bad either. If you cannot appreciate that-"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down, hotshot!" The kid gave a smile, raising hands but smirking teasingly. "I'll lay off the comments about your 'horses', just simmer down." The kid gave air quotes at the word "horses", but winked at the two of them. "Gosh, they sound like Sindri when someone insults his seidjarn."

"Well, that's to be expected, Lumi." Another child spoke, sitting at the courtyard steps and holding a book to their chest. This child was older and calmer than Lumi, and their black hair fell darkly over their face as they surveyed the strangers carefully. "Just like in the stories, these animals are to these strangers as seidjarn are to us."

Lumi looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. "I guess you're right, Noct." Giving a smile, the kid looked just a bit embarrassed. "Guess we got off on a bad foot too, huh hotshot?" But Lumi hardly looked bothered, and gave a spin, striking a pose theatrically. "I'm Lumi! The bookworm is Noct. We live at the orphanage next to the castle grounds."

"Orphanage?" Heath asked, suddenly remembering what he had heard about Nidavelir- many adults were lost in battles in recent times, and families were torn apart. He regretted saying anything.

But Noct just gave a shake of their head. "It's not a secret or anything. Our parents were killed when we were babies, all the kids have the same story, give or take. Some lost their folks in the coup, and many more after that as well. The big kids and adults can't fight, so they help take care of us instead."

"Yeah, that's right!" Lumi added cheerily. "Some of them lost an arm or a leg, so Sindri made 'em braces like his!"

"Braces...?" Fernand asked, a hand to his chin in thought. "So, those are...."

"Yup, his arms are all wobbly without 'em," Lumi replied with a nod.

"I..." Fernand looked down, suddenly breaking his gaze with the sunny child.

"It's okay." Noct barely looked up from the book, but when they did it was an untroubled glance. "You guys are new here, no wonder you don't know."

"No, I apologize, Lumi and Noct of Nidavelir." Fernand gave a low bow to the children. His voice was serious as usual, yet it seemed more shaken than Heath had yet heard it.

Noct looked at the man, their eyebrows knitting in perplexion behind the black bangs. But Lumi just gave a dramatic flourish.

"You are pardoned, Mister Hotshot." the kid said in a lofty voice. A scheming smirk crossed Lumi's face. "But in exchange for your pardon, you and Lizard Guy have to play tag with all the kids."

"It's Fernand to you, child." His voice was indignant, but something of the humorous exchange made Heath smile. "And this is Heath." He gestured an arm to the wyvern rider, but it was his tone that surprised him. It was not the dismissive tone he usually spoke with, but with the same respect as when he had first defended his trusted partner to the children. "You would do well to respect him as well."

"Maybe I will..." Lumi put on a thoughtful pose, but still wore a smirk. "But you hav'ta catch me first!" The kid darted off, speaking in a sing-song teasing voice.

"Why that little..." Fernand clenched a hand before starting off.

"Don't fight a kid, Sir Fernand," Heath started cautiously, also getting to his feet. But he somehow couldn't shake the feeling the man would never dream of harming a child.

"Of course not. I am no brute." He spoke sharply in response, affirming Heath's suspicion.

"Also, about.... before." Heath felt inclined to speak, and even through the noise his words seemed to have stopped the proud man, as he froze, turning his head. "Thanks for what you said about me."

Fernand was silent for a moment, before he spoke in a calculated tone. "It is not worth mentioning." His head remained half-turned, as if he refused to show Heath his full expression. "You are evidently a man of character, regardless of any station or past. At least, I am inclined to think so at the moment."

"Hey Hotshot! You're waay cold!" called Lumi from somewhere down the hallway. "You better warm up those horse feet if you're gonna even get close to winning in tag!"

"You'd better go too, Mister Heath," Noct added, looking up from the book. "Or Lumi'll never let you be able to do any business in the castle."

"Is Lumi really that powerful?" Heath couldn't help asking as he started to sprint alongside Fernand.

"Powerful annoying," Noct replied. "You try doing anything with songs being sung in your ear or your hair being constantly pulled." The kid gave a knowing smirk, a smirk just like Lumi's.

The garb of Nidavelir was nothing like any Kaze had seen before. Their clothing clung to the skin even more than the underclothes of some ninjas, and all, even guards and attendants, seemed to wear it. It was even more noticeable in the castle, where few wore armor or seidjarn suits as the Princess Reginn did.

The architecture too was completely unique, and it was as Kaze was examining the pipes that snaked up the side of a hallway when a voice caught his attention.

"E-excuse me." He turned around to see a small group of women in the clothes of castle attendants. They looked at him with rapt attention, and he was inclined to bow.

"Yes, what can I do for you?" He could be unseen if he wished, but there seemed no need at the moment. Sindri had, after all, introduced them as mercenaries and travelers, and it might only arouse suspicion if he was to stay out of sight.

Still, he felt unsure at times, especially when he was approached in cases like this. He had heard in another world- the world that Kasumi was summoned from- the one who shared his origin was married and the father of a young child, yet for him it felt like a world away. He was not meant for such a life- he had made that choice before he was even called to Askr.

The woman who had asked met his eyes, her face reddening as she turned away. Another by her side put a hand to her shoulder in comfort, speaking for her friend. "She wanted to know your name and where you're from." The woman smiled, batting her eyelashes as she kept her eyes on his. "We don't meet many travelers here for peaceful reasons."

Kaze blinked. Did he have something on his eye- was she trying to tell him to check? But he just responded, making a mental note to check in the fountain's reflection later.

"My name is Kaze." He figured there was no point in hiding it, as he had already heard several of the others give their names. "I am from a distant land, that is true."

He was going to ask for the names of the women, but then another, who had hid behind the first two, spoke.

"Sir Kaze!"

"Just... Kaze is fine." He spoke, a little chuckle on his lips. Was it formality here? Or just a habit of the woman who had spoken to him. "But thank you for your courtesy." He gave a little bow, and the small group glanced at each other, giving quiet laughs amongst themselves.

"Kaze then," The woman corrected. "What's your homeland like? Is it a lot like Nidavelir? Or is it different?" She asked in a dreamy tone.

As if stirred by the words, memories of the things he loved most seemed to resurface. The quiet moments of his childhood, before his brother had had to take up the mantle of revenge. The kindness of the royal family, despite what he had done. And even that child who had every right to hate him....

"I'm sorry!" The woman spoke worriedly, and Kaze looked at her, suddenly realizing his cheeks were wet with tears. "I didn't mean to upset you!"

"No, it's not a problem." He tried his best to give a smile free of worry. "These are happy tears, I assure you." He wiped a hand to his face, hoping his expression was more becoming, and though the initial strength of the sudden wave of homesickness had ebbed, he still felt a bittersweet nostalgia in his chest.

"If anything I deeply appreciate your questions, as I have not thought of my homeland for some time." He smiled, trying to compose his words as best he could. "My homeland is a land with a goal of peace and tranquility. It is a land under blue skies and the gentle pink of cherry blossoms, where even the smallest touches of nature are filled with wonder."

And so he continued, speaking of the good, and even some of the bad, of his homeland, of course leaving out mentions of his childhood.

He wondered about mentioning the war, as the story began to spiral on. The women had joined him to sit at the steps of the hallway, listening with rapt attention as if they could see the mountains of Hoshido in his very words. Eventually he decided for it, but spoke plainly as to not censor or romanticize the suffering and destruction with poetic language.

Once the tale was through, he glanced over, wondering if his listeners would be filled with disgust at the story. But instead, the group all looked back at him with a somber understanding in each woman's eyes.

"Oh, Kaze. Even your beautiful homeland suffered a brutal war...." The first woman spoke, her words full of empathy, before she buried her face in her hands with quiet sobs.

Kaze started to stand, raising a hand. "My apologies! I should not have spoken so much-"

"No, I appreciate it," the woman said, sniffing and wiping the tears from her eyes with the hem of her long robe that she clutched like a tissue. "It means a lot to hear the truth about other places. So often the stories are full of only good things that I sometimes feel alone in the world."

The second woman gave a sad smile. "Of course it means a lot to us. We all lost our lifestyles, even family, to the coup and the following wars." She glanced around the hallway of the palace, as if remembering those times. "Most everyone our age did. But even after everything, King Fafnir helped us and even let us work here since we couldn't fight."

"Sindri too!" piped up the last woman who had spoken. "I don't know where he came from, but ever since Fafnir started sponsoring him he'd always cheer us up with tales like yours!"

The other women murmured in agreement, the sad expressions on their face replaced with smiles of recollection. "He's not as handsome as Kaze, but he's a better storyteller." One said with a grin, and the others gave their agreement to the statement, ignoring Kaze's surprise at the description of himself. 

“Er- don’t tell him I said that.”

Further from the courtyards and hallways of the castle, where the streets of the city were visible in the clear day, a lone guard stood looking over the town. But there was not much to see below that the old watcher had not already known. It was, at least, some relief to him that the capital city had become empty- those who were unable to fight had always been offered sanctuary by Lord Fafnir in bygone days, before his current string of conquests had begun. And he and the others who remembered had made sure the true wish of his lord was always honored.

But the old guard was not alone. He gave a winded chuckle, feeling his bones creak with age and exhaustion alike as he turned around. And although the one who stood behind him had a visage terrifying to behold, he gave him a warm smile all the same.

"I must admit, you gave me quite a fright the first time I saw you and your friends," the guard greeted with a chuckle, voice rattling but warm all the same. "Forgive me for saying so, but your face and armor are like the specter of death I always figured would come for me one of these days." Even in the face of his own mortality, the man's laugh was unshaking and friendly.

And even the Death Knight was not immune to his feeling, even as he stared back unflinchingly.

"Old man. You make light of your own life.... Why?"

The man gave another laugh, adjusting himself at the guard tower. "I.... have not much to be alive for. What I had...." He trailed off with a bitter sigh, and although his face still bore a smile it was a sad, if not honest, one.

"Long ago, my parents served the royal family as their guards. Naturally, it became my job as well. But among the guards, there was one I grew closer with than any other- one who I had decided, with all my heart, to share life with for the rest of our days."

He gave a sigh, even as the love of that time long ago showed in his words. "But those days were all too short. Her body became weak, from a sickness that had no cure. But before she left me, she told me to be happy- to love and support our daughter for both of us."

"And so I did, as best I could. I was never there as much as she deserved, what with the life of a castle guard. But she blossomed on her own, and grew into a wonderful young woman. And just like I had, she found the one she loved. If only they could have spent those days forever- I would have been happy to pass from this realm then."

The old guard shook his head, the words melancholy and free, and there was something in them that seemed to resonate in the body within the knight's hollow armor.

"Even in those times Nidavelir had its share of bloodshed- perhaps there was nothing as large-scale as now, but there were countless skirmishes, what with supplies being as scarce as they were in those days. He..... was wounded beyond recovery in one of those fights. My daughter, and the little baby not yet born, lost him forever."

The guard gave a sniff, turning his head across the empty city. "I did not spare anything after that- every coin saved meant nothing to me but to protect their health. So when the pains grew worse, I sent for an aide- a famed nursemaid and midwife from Jotunheimr. She went to see the doctor there, but even so the strain on her body only increased. I had made up my mind to leave my service- not even the crown was more important to me than my family."

He paused for what seemed like an eternity, eyes forlornly scanning the empty streets, as if trying to make out a glimpse of the ghosts of his past.

"So?" The voice that started surprised the skeleton knight- it was his own. "Did she survive the ordeal of birth?" He did not know why he asked, but he also would not stop himself from speaking.

The guard's eyebrows raised with slight amusement, but his eyes seemed to relax- a gentle gesture, and utterly foreign to the Death Knight. "They survived. By not only good fortune, but by the will of those two brave souls and the generosity of the midwife Atla. I could not have been more happy in my life than on that day." The guard beamed, as if living out the moment as his eyes welled with tears at the memory.

"But even that miracle cast a shadow. I needed to return- in that short time, the king and queen were slain in a coup. Even if I was rejected for abandoning them, abandoning Nidavelir, I had no choice but to do so.”

“My daughter, however, thought otherwise. She tried to convince me to stay, no matter what I said. It was as if she could not understand whatsoever. I fear my temper that terrible day was heated- more than it ever should have been." His words turned bitter, and the eyes that had so kindly gazed upon the reaper now looked down, as if unable to meet another's.

"I told her.... I told her to stay. That I would never see her again. And she told me to leave her forever, in turn. That was.... many years ago." His voice was shaky as the old man took deep breaths, steadying himself. "I have not seen her, nor her little baby, since."

There was silence upon the outlook for a moment, only the whistling of the wind and the rustling of distant fabrics. But then a sound broke the silence- a sigh. And when the Death Knight followed it, he saw the sad smile of the old guard. But it was different now- as if it had been relieved of a heavy burden.

"For listening to an old man's ramblings, there's thanks." He reached out a shaky hand, touching the spiked pauldrons of the knight without even a hint of fear. In fact, the touch was gentle- as if he was touching not a formidable specter of death, but a patient child. "I know now you have not come for my soul, but I thank you for reaping my regrets." And as he stretched his body, the knight figured he could see the hint of an experienced veteran behind the wrinkled skin and friendly smiles.

"Care to join an old man in his rounds?" He gestured with his hands, and his smile was warmer than ever when the reaper knight silently followed to his side.