Chapter Text
Claude had run from death before, enough times to know that he couldn’t rely on anyone but himself to escape it. And now he was running through the forest as fast as his legs could carry him, dashing by the red-gold light of the rising sun in a desperate attempt to evade the small army of bandits that had descended on his camp.
Branches whipped across his face or snagged on his uniform, which made him consider dumping the ridiculous yellow cape that Seteth insisted he wear as the Head of the Golden Deer.
Something heavy crashed through the undergrowth behind him, and he resisted the urge to groan.
“Claude, wait up!” the Boar Prince of Faerghus yelled, true to Felix’s nickname as he smashed through the forest with enough noise to wake the dead back in Almyra.
Of course those two had seen him running and had chased him, making every single gods-damned bandit stampede after them. Claude might have felt bad about leaving them behind to potentially die, but he’d seen both royals’ ridiculous strength, firsthand.
They probably would have been fine, even without weapons, but Claude needed to live if he wanted to fulfil his dreams. If it meant that potential competition died, so be it.
Claude looked ahead and his heart skipped at the sight of two figures standing in the clearing ahead of him, illuminated by golden sunbeams like the heroes in some epic story.
What the hell? How did the bandits get ahead of us?
Then the momentary fear turned into relief as he drew closer and saw that the duo was dressed in black plate armor that was far nicer than anything a bandit could have.
“Hello, there!” Claude pushed through his aching muscles and throbbing lungs to plant a friendly smile on his lips as he approached the two warriors.
It was a young woman and a young man of similar age-twins, perhaps? - who bore remarkable resemblance to one another despite the curious differences Claude could see on them now that he was mere feet away.
The woman was holding a well-balanced and clearly well-maintained longsword of shining steel almost as dark as the strange metal sabatons covering the entirety of her long legs. Her dark hair fell around her shoulders, her pale doll-like face set into an absolutely blank expression as eyes darker than the night sky bore into Claude.
The man Claude assumed was the woman’s brother was wearing thick Kingdom-style black plate armor around his torso and legs, while unusually thick gauntlets and armor of interlocking metal plates extended from his hands to his bulging shoulders. His hair was shorter than his sister’s, and a black cloth had been tightly wrapped around his eyes.
Was he blind?
Claude glanced at the plethora of weapons the man was carrying: two swords like the one his sister carried were sheathed on either side of his waist, while a long spear of dark wood was strapped to his back, its wide serrated head more akin to a small sword blade.
Wait, were both sides of that spear bladed?!
“Who are you?” the woman asked, her voice as bland and emotionless as her face.
There was no hostility, no curiosity or anything in her dark eyes, not even as she held her sword in a practiced, professional stance. Mercenaries, then, and hopefully ones who had friends nearby.
“I am Claude von Riegan,” Claude did a sweeping bow of the sort that would ordinarily appease stuffy nobles, but neither twin seemed fazed. “A student from Garreg Mach’s Officer’s Academy.”
“Claude!” Dimitri and Edelgard came crashing from the forest, both heirs disheveled and gasping for breath. “Do you know these two?”
“No, we don’t know him, or you,” the unnamed man spoke in a voice as empty as his sister’s, and Claude could have sworn that the eyes under his black blindfold flickered green for a split second.
“We are students of the Officer’s Academy from Garreg Mach,” Edelgard spoke up, scowling as she tried to dislodge the flurry of burs that had stuck to her uniform, cape, and hair. “We were attacked by bandits while on an exercise, and our Professor fled.”
Claude couldn’t blame Professor Reeves: the army of bandits suddenly appearing would have been enough to make anyone flee. Too bad the man had been cut down before he could get far, but at least Claude hadn’t shared that fate.
“They’re after our lives, not to mention our gold,” Claude said, hoping that these two mercenaries would be swayed by the promise of payment. “We could use all the help we could get.”
“If you can provide compensation, then we will help you,” the brother looked past Edelgard, his hands going to his swords and drawing them with a loud metallic ring. “Belle, take them to Remire. Father can handle the details when you arrive.”
“Our enemies approach,” the sister nodded. “How many?”
“I count maybe a dozen or more,” the brother reported. “Bandits, as Claude said: poorly armed and unorganized. I will deal with them.”
Wait, what?! How?!
Claude swallowed his shock and looked over the mercenary again, the ease with which he handled his blades while his sightless gaze watched their oncoming foes. He could hear branches snapping as heavy bodies smashed through the undergrowth, gruff voices baying like dogs.
“I see ‘em!”
“Gut them! Don’t let a single one of those noble brats live!”
Dimitri stepped forward, a frown on his lips. “Sir, I will not just run away while a blind man-”
A flash of dark steel so fast even Claude’s keen eyes could barely catch it silenced the prince, who stared with wide eyes as several strands of his unkempt blonde hair trailed to the earth.
“I am blind, not helpless,” the mercenary said. “Belle: take them.”
“Yes. Come, all of you,” his sister sheathed her own sword and then shoved Claude and Dimitri in the direction that they’d been running in before, her hands strong and uncompromising. “Byleth will be fine.”
Belle and Byleth, huh? These Fodlanese always had such curious names.
Belle shoved Claude again, forcing him and Dimitri to break out running to avoid being tossed onto the ground. Edelgard followed in silence, glancing over her shoulder at Byleth as he stood like a statue with a sword in either hand, waiting for his opponents to come.
“So, uh, how far is Remire?” Claude asked as he dashed in the direction that Belle had pushed him in.
The mercenary suddenly stomped past with shocking speed, easily overtaking both boys in a flurry of loud clanking while her dark hair whipped wildly behind her.
“Follow me, and don’t fall behind,” her voice was somehow perfectly placed so that it came from between the unusually loud clanging of her armor.
Claude was impressed, to say the least.
And so they ran, following Belle through the forest until she suddenly stopped dead in front of them.
“Hey, why are we-” Claude’s words died in his throat at the yawning ravine that gouged deep into the earth before them. “Oh, holy shit.”
“Claude,” Dimitri growled as he came to a halt beside the duo. “We are House Leaders: we must-”
“Be examples to our classmates, yeah,” Claude waved his hand dismissively. “Belle, how are we going to cross this?”
“I throw you,” came her bland answer.
“W-what?!” the students blurted as one.
“Uh, are you trying to kill us?!” Claude spluttered. “There’s no way you can throw all three of us across that huge ravine!”
Belle just shifted her blank eyes to Claude, nodding as if she’d simply suggested having the tea and cookies that Fodlan’s nobles seemed so fond of. “Of course I can.”
She grabbed both him and Dimitri by the fronts of their uniforms and shoved them to the edge of the ravine, nearly tossing the boys into the yawning gullet of the earth.
“Ma’am, please reconsider!” Dimitri yelped, looking as if he were about to put his inhuman strength to good use as he tensed his muscles.
“This should be interesting,” Edelgard mused with a smirk, a spark of annoyance flickering through Claude.
Dimitri, please put your inhuman strength to good use!
Was this irony? Claude had been so willing to let the other two die and now he was probably going to fall to his doom unless Edelgard intervened.
Belle lifted her arms and chanted, conjuring pale white arcane sigils before her fingertips. Magical energy rippled around Claude, and all the weight of his body suddenly lessened as if he were walking on air.
“Wait, what kind of magic is this?” Claude looked down, startled to find a faint rippling aura of energy encasing his body and shimmering beneath his feet like a platform.
“Gravity magic,” came Belle’s response. “Don’t move too much or you’ll break it.”
Gravity magic? Claude had never heard of that before.
Belle lightly pushed his back, and he found himself floating through the air with the chasm right below his feet. Already, his mind raced with different ways he could use this type of magic to eavesdrop and spy, to get himself into places where nobody could see him.
Too bad he wasn’t skilled with magic, or else he might’ve tried to ask Belle to teach him. And she probably would have refused.
“You’re heavier than you look,” Belle muttered behind them.
“Hey!” Claude protested, glancing down at his body.
He wasn’t as large as Dimitri, but he wasn’t a scrawny weakling, either. Countless hours of drawing back the thick cords that served as bowstrings had made his arms and shoulders stronger than most, and he’d done enough cardio to keep himself in decent shape.
“Not you: the other one,” came the mercenary’s droll response.
“Sorry?” Dimitri asked, unsure if he should be offended or apologetic.
Claude’s feet hit the soft ground and he nearly jumped out of his skin: he’d been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t realized they were so close to the other side. Dimitri landed alongside him, and Belle’s magic faded as the two boys hurriedly shuffled away from the edge of the chasm.
“Okay, that was pretty impressive,” Claude murmured, wondering just what other juicy secrets this woman and her brother were hiding. “I’ve never seen gravity magic before.”
“It’s pretty rare magic,” Dimitri said from alongside him. “Or, so Annette says. I’m not too well versed in the magical arts.”
Claude pat the broad shoulder closest to him, Dimitri’s armor cold against his fingertips. “Me neither, my friend.”
“Friend?” Dimitri scowled at him, his disheveled and partly chopped hair swaying around his eyes as the blue orbs flashed with dangerous light. “You ran and left us to die.”
“Hey, I made a strategic retreat, which would have worked if you and the princess over there hadn’t chased me and brought every single bandit with you,” Claude shrugged, but the menace he could feel emanating from Dimitri had every single survival instinct on full blast.
He’d heard rumors of how Dimitri had literally ripped people apart during some rebellion a few years ago, back in the cold northern reaches of Faerghus. The prince valued loyalty and honor above all else, which could be a useful tool to exploit, but the dark rage that Claude sometimes saw within his blue eyes was a reminder that Dimitri was far more dangerous than he’d first thought.
“They’ve followed us!” Edelgard’s shout made both boys stop bickering and look back at the two women on the other side of the chasm.
Four bandits were crashing through the undergrowth towards the group, their unshaven faces gleaming with sweat as mouths missing several yellowed teeth split into wicked grins.
“There they are!”
“Kill the boys, first! The girls are quite good looking!”
“Let’s have some fun with ‘em first, then kill ‘em!”
Edelgard stiffened and reached for the dagger that rested on her waist, and even Claude winced at the bandit’s insinuation.
He’d seen how horribly women had suffered during tribal raids back in Almyra, becoming trophies or slaves to the men who’d been fast enough to grab them. Sometimes, but only rarely, they were treated well, but others... Claude pushed that image from his mind as the four bandits closed in on Belle and Edelgard.
“We have to get back across,” Dimitri insisted, scanning the ravine for any way to traverse it.
“No, you stay there,” Belle commanded, her dull voice firm and oddly compelling. “Girl, you’re with me.”
“What? How?” Edelgard’s confused questions turned into a stammered cry as Belle scooped the smaller girl into her arms and then ran towards the nearest tree. “W-what are you doing?! Release me at once!”
Claude sorely wished he had his bow as the bandits turned course to give chase, but he had the feeling that Belle was about to perform something incredible.
Belle jumped at the thickest part of the trunk, snapping both of her legs forward with blinding speed while chanting an incantation. She slammed into the tree with a harsh crack, making Edelgard yelp and sending shards of wood flying as she ran up the tree trunk like it was nothing .
“What the hell?!” a bandit yelped, giving a voice to everyone’s thoughts.
Claude was utterly at a loss for words at the mercenary’s absurd display of athleticism, enshrouded in a faint veil of gravity magic that probably kept her from falling right onto her back. But that alone couldn’t possibly keep her tethered to the tree, and he took an even closer look at the woman’s unusual legs.
Belle leaped up onto a thick branch spanning the ravine and dashed across it, hurling herself and Edelgard over the void. Claude saw four strange protrusions now jutting from her metal-covered feet, and the ground shook as Belle slammed into the forest floor next to the two boys.
She set Edelgard down, not seeming to care as the girl straightened her ruffled clothes with embarrassment written all across her red face.
“What is that woman?!” a bandit demanded as the grimy ruffians looked around for a path of their own.
“Bah, let’s go back,” another suggested. “Tell Kostas that the brats hid behind an army of mercenaries.”
“What army of mercenaries?” a third asked in confusion. “I don’t see no army.”
The fourth bandit shoved the third into the ravine, the poor bastard screaming as he was swallowed up by the abyss before a faint, sickening impact silenced him. Claude scowled at the brutality, but he could see why the fourth bandit had done it: no point in having an idiot refute your lies in his confusion to get everything right.
“Come,” Belle said, metal clanking as she turned and stomped away into the forest.
“Hey, hold up!” Claude ran after her, hearing Dimitri and Edelgard do the same after a few moments of hesitation.
Belle led them down a well-worn path of dirt and crushed foliage through the forest, occasionally glancing back to make sure that the trio was following. After several minutes of dashing through the flame-hued forest, the trees and shrubbery peeled away.
Tall earthen walls surrounded a cluster of simple wooden buildings with thatch roofs while the limbs of a large windmill rotated lazily above the settlement. A sturdy wooden gate lay wide open before the group, and Belle led them right up to it.
“Back already, kids?” a gruff, older man with scruffy orange hair strolled out to greet them, his eyes narrowing when he saw the students. “Who are they? And where’s Byleth?”
He was clearly a seasoned warrior: dressed in heavy plate and chainmail covered by an orange surcoat, with a small triangular knight’s shield strapped to the back of his shoulder. His eyes spoke of a veteran’s patience, and his rough face was marked with several scars.
“Some students from some Officer’s Academy who we encountered in the forest,” Belle answered, pointing at Claude. “We came to an arrangement that Byleth and I would deliver them to safety from the bandits pursuing them if they would pay us afterwards.”
The knight balked as if he’d seen a ghost, all color draining from his rough features as he stared at the students’ uniforms. “Officer’s Academy? Damn it all...”
Oh? The secrets just got better and better!
“We apologize, but could you work out the details on payment with them, Father?” Belle asked. “I’m going to return to Byleth and ensure that none of the bandits followed us here.”
“Father?” Edelgard repeated aloud, her confusion evident in her voice as she looked between father and daughter.
“They, uh, take more after their mother,” the knight grumbled, his eyes hard. “And as for payment...just forget it. Return to the monastery and leave us alone.”
“Wait! Who are you?” Dimitri stepped forward.
“Not important,” the knight growled, reaching out and grabbing Belle’s shoulder. “Get your brother back here on the double. We’re leaving for the Kingdom as soon as everyone else is packed up and ready.”
This guy had a history with Garreg Mach, eh? The monastery hadn’t been mentioned, yet he knew exactly where they were from. Claude was tempted to stick around and see what he could glean, but the deadly look in the knight’s eyes as he surveyed the students made his better judgement return in full force.
“Captain: we’re almost ready!” a mercenary in plate armor and chainmail with a fur collar emerged from the village, the insignia of a broken sword displayed on his kite shield.
“Oh, I’ve heard of you!” recognition blazed through Claude as he snapped his fingers in triumph. “You’re Jeralt, the Blade Breaker! The mercenary that Leonie never shuts up about.”
“Leonie?” Jeralt scowled. “From Sauin village? To think she got to the Monastery...”
Footsteps came from behind, making everyone turn to see a bloody Byleth trudging back towards them, the object he was holding in his hand making even Claude curse under his breath.
“Kid, what the hell?’ Jeralt groaned. “Why did you bring that back here?”
Byleth lifted the severed head of a bandit by its greasy knotted hair, ignoring how its ragged neck continued leaking blood on the ground beside him. “Do either of you three recognize this man? He was the leader.”
Claude glanced at the dull grey eyes of the bandit leader, frowning at the shocked expression frozen upon the face while a mouth missing several tombstone-grey teeth spread open in a silent scream.
“No, I don’t know him,” Claude and Edelgard said at the same time, with Dimitri silently shaking his head as he stared at the severed head.
Byleth shrugged and dropped the head, letting it bounce against the dirt. It rolled towards Edelgard, whose face hardened with anger and something eerily similar to disappointment before she lifted a slender leg and kicked the head as hard as she could muster. The disgusting sound the head made as it careened into the forest and slammed into a tree made a shudder go up Claude’s spine as he reminded himself to keep a closer eye on the Imperial princess.
“Was that really necessary?” Jeralt asked.
Edelgard paused, surprise and concern warring on her features before she schooled herself. “My apologies.”
“Alright, you two miscreants!” an older man trudged out of the village, dressed in a dirty, well-worn tunic and breeches that spoke of his occupation as a laborer. “Let’s see what kinda damage you’ve done to my work now!”
His face was wizened yet oddly strong, with a sharp nose and high cheekbones that spoke of someone who would usually hold a softer, more political role, if the scarring and wrinkles hadn’t mangled them. Grey eyes akin to storm clouds gleamed with intelligence and annoyance, while wispy grey hair parted atop his head in a manner not unlike some of the monastery’s monks.
The man’s arms, however, were rippling with muscles while hands callused from untold years of hard labor were clenched into rough fists. He looked like a blacksmith that had grown up angry and would probably take a hammer to anyone who challenged the quality of his work.
“Go on, kids,” Jeralt sighed, motioning for his twins to go with the angry old man. “I’ll deal with these three.”
A cold sweat formed on Claude’s neck.
“Come on, come on!” the blacksmith grunted with an irate and impatient wave of his powerful hands. “Let’s take this where I can use my tools.”
The twins shuffled by in silence, all three of the curious strangers disappearing from sight behind the village walls.
Jeralt turned to the students, his face hardening as he folded his arms. “Your names and titles. Now.”
“I am Claude von Riegan, grandson of Duke Riegan of the Leicester Alliance,” Claude repeated his fancy bow.
Jeralt grunted and glared at Dimitri, who stepped forward and did a more relaxed bow.
“I am Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, sir,” he introduced himself. “Crown Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.”
Jeralt’s faltering glare shifted suspiciously to Edelgard, an eyebrow raised as if he already knew and feared her answer.
“Edelgard von Hresvelg, Princess of the Adrestian Empire,” she reported with a cool, calculating voice, offering a slight curtsy.
Jeralt deflated. “Seriously, kids? The future leaders of Fodlan’s major nations? Why couldn’t you have saved three gutter rats?”
“Uh, Sir Jeralt?” Dimitri asked in a hesitant voice.
A loud whirring noise emanated from the village, probably waking up everyone inside as it was followed by metallic screeching and crashing.
“WHAT THE HELLS HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?!” the blacksmith’s voice bellowed with enough force to startle birds from all over the forest. “THERE’S GUTS ALL OVER THE PLATES!”
Jeralt pinched his nose and inhaled deeply, his other hand going to a flask on his waist.
Claude and Dimitri shared a concerned glance while Edelgard actually took a step away from the village.
“WERE YOU CLIMBING TREES, GIRL?! YOU GOT WOOD SHAVINGS IN THE SPRINGS AGAIN!”
“Is, uh, this normal?” Claude asked.
Jeralt’s only answer was to take a deep swig of his canteen, a dead and empty light in his eyes.
“I AM GOING TO RIP THOSE ARMS OFF AND BEAT YOU WITH ‘EM, BOY! MIGHT GIVE YOU SOME SENSE! HOW MANY TIMES TO I HAVE TO SAY DON’T SEPARATE THEM WHILE THEY’RE SWINGING!”
Separate? What the hells was this psycho screaming about?
More crashing, whirring, and shrieking of metal followed each eardrum-shattering bellow, and the frequency with which Jeralt gulped down more of what was in his flask greatly increased.
After enough screaming to make Claude’s ears ring and wish he could have a drink as well, the village fell silent.
“Is it over?” Dimitri asked, his soft voice almost too loud in the deafening silence that followed.
“There they are!” another voice boomed, this one far friendlier and familiar.
“Oh, Goddess, not him,” Jeralt groaned, taking yet another swig of his canteen before scowling and tipping it over. “Shit, it’s empty already?”
Alois and a battalion of white-armored Knights of Seiros stormed towards the village in a storm of clanking and rattling, several of them sporting new dents and green stains on their armor.
“Why, Captain Jeralt, is that you?!” Alois boomed as he approached the group while he grinned like a boy meeting his hero. “Goodness, it’s been ages!”
“Alois,” Jeralt grumbled.
They knew each other? Word around the Monastery was that Alois had been a squire to the previous Captain of the Knights of Seiros, but that captain had disappeared about twenty years ago after a great fire.
“I never imagined I’d run into you like this, Captain!” Alois continued jabbering on, his eyes beaming as brightly as his smile. “Everyone had thought you were dead for so long, and then we began hearing rumors of a Blade Breaker named Jeralt! We tried tracking you down, but my goodness, you were a hard man to find!”
Jeralt grunted. “I’m not a captain anymore, Alois. I’m a mercenary, and one that has a contract that needs to be fulfilled in the Alliance. This is where we part ways.”
Wait, hadn’t he said the job was in the Kingdom, earlier? Why was he so desperate to get away from the Church and its people if he’d been the former Captain?
Alois’s bubbly face fell. “Oh...in that case, I bid you farewell, Captain.” Then his expression did a complete reversal. “Wait! It can’t end like this! Come back to the monastery with us, Captain! Lady Rhea will be thrilled to see you again, and we all owe you for saving the heads of our three Houses!”
Jeralt muttered a dark oath under his breath. “I didn’t save them: my kids did. If you want to pay them, do it and take your students.”
“Kids?” Alois’s eyes grew comically large as he looked around. “Where are they?”
As if on cue, Belle and Byleth emerged from the village in silence, their faces blank and their respective legs and arms freshly gleaming and oiled.
“Who are they, Father?” Belle asked, her hand drifting to her sword.
“Oh, you’re the captain’s children?” Alois sent them both a beaming smile, not faltering when neither twin reacted. “I can’t say you look like him, but...”
“They take more after their mother!” Jeralt snapped.
“You know them, Father,” Byleth pointed out, at which the Blade Breaker sighed.
“I know Alois, yes, but not the rest,” he looked at the two blank faces. “You alright, Byleth? I know you can hold your own, but I still worry.”
“Wait, is he blind?!” Alois blurted. “Sir Byleth, if there’s any help we can give you, please do not hesitate to call on me!”
Claude felt a smile curve his lips at the loud, boisterous knight’s declaration, accompanied by a flamboyant thumbs up which Byleth couldn’t even see to begin with.
“Thanks,” came the dull reply.
“I insist that you all come back with us!” Alois declared, spreading his arms in what one could call a welcoming gesture if the one doing it hadn’t been covered in white plate with a heavy axe on his back.
“Please, you must allow us to repay you,” Dimitri insisted.
Jeralt looked like he wanted to refuse, especially as more and more mercenaries began trickling out of the village, sizing up the Knights of Seiros with grim, determined expressions.
The Knights, in turn, were bunching together into a tighter formation, readying swords, lances, and axes for a potential fight as tension electrified the air.
“You aren’t thinking on running off again, are you?” Alois asked with a wounded look on his face, slowly lowering his arms.
“Even I wouldn’t dare run from the Knights of Seiros,” Jeralt spat, folding his arms as he sighed. “We’ll go with you, but only if you can provide lodging for my company.”
Alois brightened immediately. “I’m certain we can find space for your people in town with the garrison! Lady Rhea will be greatly pleased to see you again!”
“Captain?” one of the mercenaries looked at Jeralt with a frown. “Are you sure? We can take ‘em and get the hell out of here!”
“The Church will only send another army after us if we do,” Jeralt shook his head, shoving his flask back onto his belt. “Lower your weapons, all of you! There will be no trouble with the Church unless they attack us first!”
The mercs sheathed their weapons, albeit hesitantly, and Claude made his way over to the twins as they were speaking to their father.
“Listen: I want you two to stick together no matter what, got it?” Jeralt was saying, his face grim. “No matter what the Church tries to make you do, don’t let your guards down.”
“I don’t know what this Church is, but we’ll be on guard,” Belle’s statement made Claude nearly stumble over his feet.
How did they not know about the Church of Seiros?! Was Jeralt really trying that hard to isolate them?!
Curiosity was almost driving Claude mad at this point: what was Jeralt’s history with the Church; why were his kids so unique; and why did Claude have a feeling that everything was going to change from this point on?
“Let’s go,” Alois called, waving them all on.
“Don’t trust anything that the Church tells you,” the Blade Breaker growled at the twins.
“Yes, Father,” Byleth nodded.
Jeralt clapped both of them on a shoulder before heading towards the mercenary company and barking orders.
“Bah, I should have known the Church would have shoved their noses into my life again, despite everything I’ve done to avoid them,” the blacksmith with the voice of a god growled. “I’d just leave, but who’d take care of those two morons if I did, eh?”
The twins were left alone, save for Claude as he approached.
“Looks like you’ll be coming with us after all!” he said cheerily, swearing that Byleth was staring right at him through that black blindfold. “I look forward to becoming better acquainted with both of you!”
Belle just stared blankly at him, neither twin betraying even a hint of emotion. It would have been easier to read to damn rock!
“Trying to bother them, Claude?” Edelgard asked in a testy voice as she strode over to them with Dimitri on her heels like a faithful hound.
“Hey, I’m just trying to be friendly with the people who’d rescued us!” Claude lifted his hands in surrender, internally sighing at the interruption.
Their Highnesses were probably still a little sore from being, well, bait for the bandits. Claude could see their agitation written plain across their royal faces.
“We are lucky that we found them,” Dimitri nodded. “Even if we did so while running after you, Claude.”
“And bringing every single one of the bandits after us instead of scattering to split them up,” Claude reminded them.
“We aren’t armed, Claude,” Edelgard pointed out with a scowl. “We would have simply been run down and surrounded.”
“And we wouldn’t have been in any shape to fend them off,” Dimitri added. “Against superior numbers, even our Crest-infused strength wouldn’t have helped for long.”
Claude tried not to roll his eyes as he recalled how he’d once seen Dimitri literally pick up a wagon that had fallen on its side in order to get it back on its wheels. He could probably have broken the bandits like twigs.
“We’re all just lucky to be alive,” Claude shrugged. “Thanks to these two.”
“They are strange, indeed,” Belle commented to no one in particular, earning a raised eyebrow from Edelgard.
“What do you think, Sothie?” Byleth’s voice was almost too soft to hear, and Claude stole a glance to see if he hadn’t been the only one to hear this strange question.
Sothie? Who was Sothie?
Neither Dimitri nor Edelgard had reacted to the odd question, so perhaps they hadn’t heard it.
Interesting!
“Let’s go!” Alois called back. “Garreg Mach Monastery awaits!”
Claude nodded to himself as a cool breeze washed over the new day, rustling him and whispering a promise of an exciting future.
Maybe it would be worth coming to Fodlan, after all?