Archive of Our Own ^beta

The days of Heroes summoned to Askr were always filled with energy. Even on days where they weren’t actively battling against the Emblian Empire, the Forces of Hel, or whoever else threatened the peaceful kingdom, there was such a large number of people from different worlds, each with their own history and culture, that it would be difficult to get through a day in the Order of Heroes and not learn something new. There was a near constant flow of new Heroes, so if there was ever a chance for the commotion to die down, it wouldn’t be long until the excitement would pick back up within the hour.

            It hadn’t been very long since Roy himself had been part of that wave of new and exciting faces. He thought back to his first few days in the new realm as he began his morning routine.

            It was incredibly disorienting to suddenly appear in a strange land, but there had been several kind Heroes eager to help ease him into life in the Order, including—thank the gods—a few familiar faces. Being able to spend time with his dear friend Lilina and their teacher, Cecilia, had made it feel almost like he had never left.

            But he had left, and every time he stopped to think about the war still raging in Elibe and the army missing not only he and Lilina but one of their Mage Generals filled him with dread.

            “The army will be fine without us for a brief while,” Cecilia had reassured the young lord a few days after his arrival. “We have a duty to this kingdom, so we must aid it however we can. Besides, there are a great many Heroes from Elibe’s past and present as well as from places we’ve never even dreamed of. Askr has given us a once in a lifetime opportunity to learn of the past without fear of the future; that’s a bit of respite I think all of us could use,” she gave a knowing glance his way as she spoke.

            Roy had reluctantly agreed, and the young lord made an effort to learn more about the people who came before him. Many of them had been surprisingly easy to get along with, once the initial “Ooh, you look so much like your father”s and “I never thought this could be possible”s and “Wow, you’re shorter than I’d expect”s were out of the way. Hearing about his home before the war from people who had lived through it was eye-opening, and Roy’s studious nature overtook him more than once to jot down a few notes mid-conversation (much to the mild confusion to whoever he was speaking to). He and Lilina talked into the night about all of the fun things they would do if they were able to reunite with their fathers again, and Roy could feel himself genuinely starting to like the idea of staying in Askr.

            The bustling lifestyle of the Order left little time for one to stew in their worries, yet a few troublesome thoughts slip through the cracks all the same. It had started when he had first encountered Rebecca, the young girl that would eventually become Wolt’s mother. Upon finding out he and her future son were so close, the homely archer was absolutely overjoyed. Her excitement proved to be infectious; Roy and Lilina spoke of meeting their fathers with renewed vigor. More Heroes from Elibe kept coming, many of them eager to speak with him once they realized who he was. Even the current state of the World didn’t seem to dissuade them, and a few of them reassured him just as General Cecilia had, telling him tales of how they had carried on even when his father was unable to lead them, or how he inspired them even the odds were stacked against them.

“Lord Eliwood is really something else,” he had heard more than once.

“He’s like a natural-born leader!”

“Even after suffering so much, he leads his troops with a confident smile.”

“You two are so alike, I’m sure your troops look up to you in the same way.”

“Just wait until he gets here, I’m sure he’ll be quite impressed!”

As weeks turned to months, Roy’s unease of the war in Elibe lessened considerably, but a new fear began to take root in his heart. Now the constant stream of Heroes dreaming of reunions, his father’s comrades admiration of him, even Lilina’s eagerness for either of their fathers to arrive made him strangely uncomfortable, but Roy pushed aside the unpleasant new feeling in an effort to heed General Cecilia’s advice.

 Then, just as he was beginning to fall into the routine of fighting for Askr, forging tentative friendships with the other Heroes, and researching other Worlds in the Askran library, a force came over the castle that seemed to erode his burgeoning new resolve almost completely.

            Lord Hector had arrived in Askr, but it was not the man Roy and Lilina had known. This was not the venerated head of the Lycian League who intimidated other nobles with his large build and stony gaze, but a fiery young man with no courtly manners and a penchant for sparring matches. The only thing that seemed the same between the two men was his complete adoration of his daughter, for as soon as he realized who she was he hardly left her side. Roy had thought Lilina would be bothered by her father’s behavior, but the young mage was ecstatic for the opportunity to see her father again. Which was fine, he supposed, but he found himself feeling slightly uncomfortable around the pair of Ostians—whether or not it was because Hector was always either talking about Roy’s father or glaring at him for sitting less than five feet away from Lilina he couldn’t be certain—so the time he spent with Lilina gradually lessened. Now he barely saw her at all.

            That’s alright, Roy thought. She and Lord Hector were always close, and it’s not like she’s my only friend here.

“Good morning, Roy!” a voice startled him out of his thoughts. Roy nervously waved a greeting to the approaching figure.

            “Good morning to you too, Marth,” Roy fell into stride with the prince around his age, still trying to focus back on the present. “Heading to the Coliseum already?” the sounds of hundreds of pairs of feet echoed off of the polished stone floors as Heroes went about their morning routines, and conversations had to be held in close proximity as a bit of a precaution.

            Marth shook his head, blue eyes shining with excitement. “No, actually. Kiran is preparing to summon new Heroes to Askr! I’m hoping to get there early enough to witness it for myself. Nowi told me that it’s very—” Roy’s feet slowed for a moment, allowing Marth’s voice to be drowned out by the commotion as he pulled ahead.

 Another summoning… Roy’s thoughts grew hazy as the fear he’d been desperately trying to keep at bay surfaced with a vengeance. What if—

A gloved hand reached out and grabbed his wrist, making him jolt. “Roy, are you alright?” Marth asked, blue hair slightly disheveled from traveling against the crowd. “I’d nearly lost you!”

Roy hesitated before nodding. “Yeah, I…guess I’m still tired,” he answered, taking notice of a few passing grumbles directed at the two idiots who decided to stand still in the middle of a crowded hallway.

Marth gave him a strange look before continuing with his usual smile. “I understand—oof—what you mean,” a tall man in dark robes bumped into him while he spoke. “Anyway, as I was—ah—saying, would you like to go—do pardon us, miss—with me?”

Roy went between staring at Marth’s hand to watching as more people bumped into the poor prince. He made his decision quickly to at least end the prince’s torment. “I—ow—don’t see why not,” he answered as a young girl in heavy armor pushed past. “We should probably get moving,” he added sheepishly.

“Quite so,” Marth laughed. “Follow me!” he led the way to the summoning chamber, oblivious to his companion’s growing unease with every step.

Roy had always envisioned the summoning of Heroes as a private, sacred affair. The sizable crowd that greeted them when they arrived at the altar begged to differ. Although the space around the stone relic was cleared of people, the entrance was packed to the brim with Heroes and the occasional curious servant, each as visibly excited as Marth had been.

“I suppose they all had the same idea as we did,” the prince laughed nervously as he gently tugged on Roy’s arm. “Come, let us see if there is still some space near the front.”

“Why are there so many people here?” Roy wondered aloud.

“Well,” Marth said as they circled around the crowd, “it has been quite some time since Kiran has performed a Summon. And, to be fair, I remember Commander Anna mentioned there always being a few spectators. I think everyone is just hoping to see a friend or loved one join them here in Askr.”

Roy watched a girl with long navy-blue hair near the front jump at the sight of them and immediately give up her place, stuttering something about “aiding the Hero-King”. Marth tried to stop her, but she was already gone. “Oh, Lucina…” his friend sighed before turning to face him, his smile soured slightly. “Well…I suppose we have a spot now. Shall we?”

“R-right,” Roy sputtered, deciding it better not to call attention to it—he was acutely aware by now that personal affairs in Askr are as long, difficult, and often painful to explain as they are to understand. He followed Marth into the small opening in the horde of people. It actually had a clear view of the Altar, and he could see Kiran gathering several gleaming stones of various colors from its base. Roy thought about the girl who had moved from their spot and felt a little guilty. I wonder who she’s waiting for…?

A close look at Marth’s face showed that he was feeling the same way. His brows were knit together in frustration and his eyes were pointed directly at the boot heels of the person in front of them. He wasn’t watching the ceremony at all.

“Uh, hey,” Roy lightly tapped his friend’s shoulder. “Do you, um, know what all of those different stones are…?” He asked the first thing that came to mind, and he would have mentally kicked himself for such a simple topic if it hadn’t immediately caught Marth’s attention.

“Oh!” Marth exclaimed like someone who had been too absorbed in boot heels and self-loathing to focus on the thing he dragged his friend to. “I had actually asked about it before since I remembered them from my own summoning. Kiran was kind enough to explain, but I didn’t quite understand it.” The prince rubbed the back of his head in light embarrassment. “I do remember that you and I had both come from a formation of red stones, so I suppose color has something to do with the type of Heroes to be summoned…?”

Roy furrowed his brows in thought, enjoying the distraction. “Maybe it—”

“Ah! Roy, look!” Marth pointed excitedly. “I think the rite is starting!”

From their spot in the crowd, they could see Kiran brandishing the sacred weapon Breidablik, taking aim at the altar. In a flash, the Summoner shot an orb of many colors at the center of the altar. Once it connected, the colors inside traveled through the carved runes like water flowing through a canal to each of the stones Kiran had placed, each shifting to the color of the corresponding stone once they connected.

Aside from a few gasps, the air around the crowd was still. Roy glanced up at Marth and found the prince completely mesmerized by the display. “No matter how many times I witness it,” Marth whispered, “I will always be in awe of the spectacle of magic.”

“Yeah…” Roy agreed, though his anxiety from earlier had come back full force. Now that the moment was upon him, he couldn’t hide his apprehension.

“Nervous?” Marth asked with a knowing smile.

Roy thought carefully about how to respond. He and Marth got along well, but he still hadn’t known him for very long. He wasn’t sure if ‘we chat idly about things over tea and spar sometimes’ was a deep enough friendship to disclose his deepest insecurities with. “…I suppose I am. You don’t really know what kind of person will come until they arrive, you know? If they know you or not, and how they’d feel about you if they do…or something like that.”

“I understand completely,” Marth said, smile nearly dipping into a scowl. “As exciting as a new face always is, I find myself half-dreading to hear ‘by the gods, the Hero-King!’ from whoever arrives,” He put both hands on his face acting as if he were about to faint, which garnered a snicker from Roy. Several people in the crowd shushed them as the ceremony continued.

            A deep crimson stone at the head of the altar began to shine brighter than the rest, siphoning the light from the other channels into itself until it gleamed like a signal fire, its light pulsating in a low hum. “Great Hero!” Kiran beckoned to the altar with hands outstretched. “I beg of you to lend your aid to this war!”

            For a moment, everything was still. It seemed like everyone in the crowd was holding their breath, and Roy could swear in that moment he could hear their hearts beating. Then, all at once, the light in the stone pulsed faster, the humming growing higher in pitch and volume and Roy had to fight the urge to cover his ears. The brilliant red light grew stronger and stronger until it no longer seemed to be red at all. The stone’s song ended with the sound of the heavens tearing open in a flash that made Roy shield his eyes. The light faded, leaving the altar covered in tall clouds of billowing smoke.

            Ears ringing and vision spotty, the young lord couldn’t tell if the rite was over or not. The crowd seemed to share his confusion, as no one made a move amidst the moaning and nervous laughter that bubbled from within it. Finally, someone at the front of the crowd—one of the younger Heroes, from the sounds of it--called out “Hey, someone’s there!”

            The crowd erupted into excited chatter as whatever pretense of order was shattered as people tried worming their way to the altar to be the first to see the newcomer. Roy was pushed and shoved by people all around him, and he had lost track of Marth and the altar completely. Instead, his vision was a sea of squirming torsos and frantic legs. A particularly large Hero with familiarly solid armor surged past him, knocking him and several others to the ground as the crowd continued to move around him. By the gods, I’ll be trampled if this keeps up!

            Finally, Hector’s booming voice overpowered the crowd, whooping excitedly: “Woo! Eliwood!”

The crowd had calmed significantly as the Hero was revealed, but Roy froze on the spot. No, his head was reeling. No, no, no, please no.

            Roy hastily tried to get to his feet as he heard Lord Hector’s voice approaching. “Excuse me, pardon me, sorry,” apologies flew out of his mouth as he tried pushing past various Heroes in a desperate effort to leave the sanctuary before their paths crossed. Just melt into the crowd, he thought as he squirmed past a few slightly-annoyed mages. Put as much distance between yourself and them as possible. He slid past two heavily armored women with a hastily uttered apology. He could see the door that lead to the rest of the castle from where he stood. It was so close!

I just need some time to prepare myself, then we’ll talk. I just—

“Ah, there you are! Lilina thought she saw you,” Hector’s voice cleaved through him like he had been struck with Armads itself. “Where are you headin’ off to? There’s someone you gotta meet!”

            Roy stood still, his back to Lord Hector and the person he least wanted to see.

            Don’t turn around, don’t turn around, don’t—

            But he did, and whatever composure he still had vanished as soon as he saw the man next to Hector’s face. It was as if he had stepped out of the portrait that hung in the great hall of Roy’s home back in Pherae. Red hair and blue eyes that matched his own, the same blue robes he had seen his entire childhood, and a few freckles around the bridge of his nose.

            Lord Eliwood, Marquess of Pherae.

            His father.

            He watched Eliwood scan his face before his eyes lit up in shock and recognition.

            “You’re—” he began, and Roy’s mind blanked. His legs started backing away of their own accord.

            Then he turned and ran out of the sanctuary without a word.

“Not that I’m not understanding, Roy, but don’t you think it’s been long enough?” Marth asked the large pile of books and anxiety tucked away in one of the castle library’s many alcoves. He stared at the altas closest to where he assumed the back of his friend’s head was and swallowed hard when it didn’t answer. “I mean—er, that is to say—it’s been a few weeks since you’ve even considered glancing in Lord Eliwood’s direction. I really think that it may best if you both—” the sudden eruption of the mountain of books drowned out his concerns as Roy gave an exaggerated stretch and put a book labelled The Economic Systems of Jugdral back on the shelf closest to him.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that, Marth. I’m fine!” he flashed a bright smile as he immediately ducked behind the pile of books once more.

“I’m sure you are,” Marth picked up a book from the top of the stack closest to him and frowned. “Quite a few, ah, page-turners you’ve got in your collection here, hm?” he said with all  the grace of a person unaccustomed to lying to make their friends feel better.

“Oh, for sure! That one in your hands there is really quite interesting! It’s about…uh…you know,”

“‘On Roots and Tubers from the Faerghus Territories?’” Marth’s pleasant smile faltered a bit more.

“Oh!” Roy exclaimed like someone equally bad at lying about being fine. “I-I mean, yes! The agricultural patterns of other Worlds sure are fascinating, aren’t they?”

“Roy.”

“Marth,” Roy poked his head out of his makeshift fortress. “I know what this looks like, but I’m fine! I’m just trying to catch up on learning about other Worlds while I have some extra time. I’ve been a little busy lately.” He laughed sheepishly.

“I know. Kiran mentioned how you’ve been throwing yourself at missions for the Order lately. They seem rather worried, actually,” Marth returned Roy’s attempt at being casual with a pointed look.

Roy’s resolve crumbled like sand. “Well…you know. Always have to keep Embla or Muspell or Hel or whoever else threatens us at bay, right?”

            Marth’s smile hadn’t changed, but the look in his eyes conveyed something along the lines of I’m not sure if ‘we chat idly over tea and spar sometimes’ is grounds for staging an intervention.

            Several moments of the two boys flashing their equally fake smiles passed—Roy refusing to relent, Marth having run fresh out of subtle probing methods. They likely would have stayed that way for much longer had the library’s large double doors not slammed open with considerable force.

            “Where is he?!” snapped a feminine voice.

            “Oh, be quiet!” shouted back a mage from the upper levels.

            Roy froze on the spot, eyes locking with Marth’s. ‘Is that Lilina?’ he mouthed at the prince.

            Marth hesitated a moment for giving him an apologetic nod.

            Roy’s eyes widened with horror before hurriedly disappearing back under the shelter of books. All the while, Lilina’s angry stomps drew closer.

            When the young noble turned the corner, her piercing gaze tore through Marth, who in turn helplessly gestured to the conspicuous pile of books next to him. Lilina nodded in understanding.

            “Roy, can we please talk about this?” She asked the pile calmly. When she heard no response, Lilina took her hand and slapped the top layer of books to the ground, earning a few looks from annoyed library guests. “Roy.” Her voice was as calm as before, but there was an edge behind it. Marth took a few steps back. “I know you’re back there.”

            Roy made himself a little smaller behind the wall of books. Maybe she’ll give up? He thought, knowing for a fact that Lilina never gave up on anything. The rest of his thoughts were interrupted by something tickling the top of his head. Against his better judgement, Roy looked up. His eyes met a familiar blue pair framed by matching long hair that was now framing his face.

            “Hi,” said Lilina.

            “Hello,” said Roy.

“May I come in?” she asked, tapping a book from her side of the book wall.

“Uh—” he faltered, trying to escape her hair.

“That’s a no, huh? In that case,” she said pleasantly as her face disappeared from view. Roy listened to the sounds of books scraping across carpet in mounting horror. Once there was enough space for her to fit her arm through the gap, she grabbed Roy’s shoulder with a force completely unlike what her appearance would suggest. “You’re coming out,” She emphasized the last word with a powerful yank of Roy’s shoulder. Roy couldn’t hold back a yelp has he was sent careening backward, crashing through several books on textile trading as he was completely and utterly exposed on the library floor. A choir of shushing sounded from throughout the two floors as books continued to fall one after the other.

Lilina dropped her friend with just a little too much force, and Roy realized that Marth was still there, having seen the entire exchange. Marth, for his part, just gave a useless wave at Roy’s direction, as if what Lilina just did was a normal part of his day. From above him, Lilina gave the prince a meaningful look and inched her chin towards the door.

Marth stared blankly at her for a second before recognition lit up his features with a soft “Oh!” and a hand over his mouth for good measure. “I’ll, er, leave you two alone, then,” he said with a polite bow and turned to leave.

Roy sat up at once. “You’re leaving?” he called out to his retreating friend, deciding that momentary embarrassment would be bearable if it meant he wasn’t alone with Lilina.

Marth responded by walking away faster.

Traitor! Roy called out in his head with a dirty look. He made a mental note not to go easy on him the next time they spar.

The hand on his shoulder gripped tighter as Lilina sat herself down next to Roy, staring expectantly at him with arched eyebrows. Well?

 Roy glanced around nervously and said nothing, unsure of what she wanted from him.

“I suppose I’m going first then,” Lilina sighed with a small smile before snapping to a serious expression. “Talk to your father.”

Roy sputtered. “But—”

“No buts!” she lightly smacked his knee with a free hand. “You might have been able to dance around the topic with Marth, but that won’t work on me. And you don’t have your mountain of books to hide away with either.”

Roy looked at the pile. “Would you believe me if I told you I actually found them interesting?” He asked sheepishly.

“I would if you weren’t using them as an excuse to avoid your problems,” Lilina said bluntly, nose crinkled in irritation.

Roy deflated, unable to voice what he knew Lilina wanted to hear—and what he dreaded to speak into reality.

Lilina’s expression softened. She let go of his shoulder, knowing he wouldn’t run off anymore. “I know it’s weird, but it’s not so bad once you get it over with! My father was absolutely overjoyed once he got over the initial confusion, and I know Lord Eliwood would love nothing more than to catch up with you as well.” She smiled encouragingly at him, but the smile he gave back was weak and pained.

“It’s not just that it would be…weird,” Roy began. “It’s just that—I mean, I’m—I’m not—” the young lord stumbled over his words, the thoughts seeming to get stuck in his throat. Worse still, he could feel the telltale signs of getting worked up, his ears and cheeks rapidly heating up. He turned away from Lilina in a vain attempt to keep her from the noticing the deep red staining his face, the act itself making it worse.

“Easy, Roy. Take your time,” his friend gently palmed his back, speaking quietly so as not to make more of a scene--which he was grateful for.

It seemed like a quarter of an hour passed of Roy stumbling over his words and apologizing to Lilina for taking so long and not wanting to say anything at all before he gave up and put his head in his hands in frustration.

Lilina looked more than a little apologetic, her righteous fury subsiding. “Hey, if you need a moment I—” she started to retract her hand when she heard mumbling from Roy’s hands.

“I’m nothing compared to him,” the words slipped through his fingers before he could stop them, causing him to clamp them harder to his face in shame. No doubt all of him was bright red at this point.

Lilina was completely taken aback. “What?” was all she could manage.

But Roy wasn’t done. His restraint had failed hm, and now the floodgates were open. “He’s a competent leader, a talented swordsman, almost everyone that’s ever met him adores him, and now he’s here in his prime! I could barely live up to him back home for the sake of the army’s morale. How could I possibly compare to him at his absolute best as he is now?!”

He was gesturing wildly by the time he was done, talking a mile a minute and spiraling into his own head. He was practically incoherent by the time Lilina had enough, oblivious to her attempts to stop him,

“—oy. Roy!” she called to him frantically, arms firmly braced on his shoulder. It took a few seconds for him to stop mumbling insecurities and finally meet her eyes.

“Has all of that seriously been on your mind he’d arrived in Askr?” She asked him both out of concern and utter disbelief.

Roy stared at his feet, face on fire, before nodding his head, shaking it, then nodding it again.

Lilina stared blankly. “I understand you’re feeling overwhelmed, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to explain to me what that means, Roy.”

Roy drew a shaky breath before he answered. “I suppose…yes and no? I’ve been thinking about it a lot more since he’d arrived, but I guess I’ve been dealing with it since…the war…started…” Roy, already off to a weak start, gradually trailed off as he slowly realized that he had never mentioned any of this to Lilina at all. He took a tentative look at her face and felt a stab of guilt in his chest.

Lilina looked like he had just slapped her, her face a horrible combination of shock and hurt. She bit her lip as she digested the information her best friend had given her, fidgeting with her hair in an increasingly uncomfortable silence.

If any gods are listening, please feel free to strike me down now, Roy thought bitterly.

Eventually, Lilina spoke, subdued and barely above a whisper. “We tell each other everything,” her voice was thick with effort. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dealing with so much pain?” her eyes were watery, like it was taking all of her willpower not to just burst into tears right then.

“What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I know that your father just died and your homeland is tearing itself apart, but can we talk about me for a minute?’” Roy asked in an exaggerated version of his normal voice.

Lilina winced at the mention of her father but nodded. “Well, not like that, but yes, that is, in fact, exactly what you’re supposed to say.”

Roy’s eyes narrowed. “That is definitely not true.”

“Yes, it is. Pain is relative, Roy. I do not want you hiding yours away from me just because you think my lot is worse. So please tell me if you’re hurting from now on?”

Roy was silent for a while before looking up at his friend, studying the hurt in her eyes. “…I will,” he said finally. “And…I’m sorry for hurting you.” He squeezed Lilina’s hand, brows knit tight in self-loathing.

“You’re forgiven,” she said, smiling genuinely as she squeezed his hand back. “How are you feeling now?” she asked, shooting him a hopeful look.

Roy thought for a moment. “Well, I nearly made you cry, and that never feels good,” he said simply, unaware of the pink dusting Lilina’s cheeks.

“Y-yes, but neither does holding all of those awful feelings! Sometimes you just let them out, right?”

“Yeah…” said Roy, but he didn’t really mean it. He knew Lilina wouldn’t blame him for it after apologizing, but he had still hurt her. Not to mention, it wasn’t like she had disagreed with any of Roy’s doubts.

Because they’re true, a voice in his head sneered, and he felt his frown deepen.

A strange look passed over Lilina’s face, but it quickly vanished as she gave a large, painfully casual stretch, grunting with the effort. “Well, I’m glad we were able to talk for a bit, but I’m afraid I must be going. Sharena has invited me to tea and I’ve already declined twice before,” she said and shot Roy a guilty smile. “If you like, I should be done around sunset. Would you meet me in the gardens then? I’d like to talk to you more.”

It was Roy’s turn to look a little guilty. No doubt Lilina had been worried sick about him the past few weeks, and he had neglected having any long conversations with her out of fear of what had just come to pass. “I’d like that as well. I missed you, Lilina,” he told her honestly, a small smile spreading across his face for the first time in weeks.

“I missed you too,” she said gently, still seated next to him. They shared a moment of quiet, staring intently at each other before Lilina abruptly turned away, Lilina’s face was as red as her robes as she shot up like an arrow. “I-I’ll be off, then! Goodbye, Roy! Lookingforwardtoourchat!” she called to him walking as fast as her legs would carry her without seeming like she was running away from him.

Roy looked at the path Lilina took in confusion. That was odd, wasn’t it? He thought to himself. I’m sure Sharena wouldn’t mind if she was a bit late, she seems so nice.  

Roy mulled over Lilina’s behavior for a bit longer before deciding to let it go. She could tell her about it later that evening, anyway. He smiled again as he thought of how lucky he was to have a friend like her. A gentle warmth spread through his body, then quickly dissipated when he saw the mess of books lying in the corner.

I should…probably put those back. He thought, picking up a few of the volumes that Lilina had knocked over, a fading smile still on his lips.

By the time all of the books had been placed in their shelves and Roy had apologized to a few steaming members of the library staff, the shadows outside the windows grown long and gangly, stretching from one side of the spacious halls to the other. Roy hurried out to the library to find the entrance to the gardens. A few Heroes waved as he passed, to whom he hesitantly waved back. People seem to be in good spirits, he thought as he walked along the polished stone corridors. Perhaps that’s an omen of the coming days.

The sun had thankfully still not set by the time the young lord found the old wooden door to the gardens, only just barely tinging the sky orange. The door’s iron hinges creaked slightly as he pulled the handle. A gust of cool evening air brushed his red hair away from his eyes as the door swung open, revealing beautifully cultivated flower beds, deep green shrubs, and blossoming fruit trees—all arranged to be as aesthetically breathtaking as possible. The flower beds, currently housing delicate pink and periwinkle blooms for spring time, lined a simple cobblestone pathway that led to a clearing of small wooden tables for tea parties and whatever else Heroes did in their spare time out in nature. Lilina would likely be waiting for him there.

Roy followed the path, half-expecting to bump into Sharena on her way back from her chat with Lilina and being a little surprised when he didn’t. That normally wouldn’t have been cause for concern—a castle this massive naturally had as many entrances to its meticulously kept gardens as needed to show them off—but there were hardly any Heroes or servants on the grounds at all. No idle chatter drifting from the tea area, no younger Heroes playing in the grass, not even a pair of romantics watching the sunset. Roy tried to keep his nerves at bay, his boots clacking against stone seemed to echo despite being in the open air.

His ears finally picked up a solitary conversation as he neared the white gazebo that marked the entrance to the Tea Gardens, though the wind rustling through the leaves of the orchard trees obscured anything other than the presence of sound.

Roy’s brow furrowed in confusion. Are Princess Sharena and Lilina still catching up? It’s been a couple hours at least. Roy hated the idea of interrupting a conversation with the two nobles, but he was certain that Lilina wanted to meet at this time.

I’ll at least see if they need more time. He thought. I can wait.

As he entered the gazebo, however, he saw that the two seated at a table were not his friend and the princess, but rather two gentlemen having a very heated argument about military strategy.

Roy must have been standing there for a few minutes before one of them had even noticed he was there.

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this. Find me again when we aren’t disturbing the peace,” said one, glancing at Roy with disdain and rushing past him, the other man yelling after him, pushing Roy with considerable force. Roy huffed.

I suppose that not everyone gets along in Askr, he thought as he propped his elbows on the edge of the gazebo, waiting for Lilina to arrive.

Ten minutes pass, and still no Lilina. The sun is beginning to sink into the horizon, dyeing nearby clouds in brilliant gold. Roy normally loved sunsets, but he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy the view as a familiar feeling of dread pooled in his stomach.

She said she’d be here, didn’t she? Why hasn’t she shown up yet? His thoughts began to buzz around as he tried his best to not look desperately around the gardens for her.

Five more minutes feel like agony. The arch of the gazebo framed the sun, now low enough to look at plainly, almost perfectly between the two posts. Roy forced himself to enjoy the view to keep his thoughts at bay, but it didn’t help much. At this point, his mind was a full choir of self-deprecation.

She’s still upset from earlier; I just know it.

Sharena talked her out of meeting me somehow.

When was the last time I bathed? Do I stink? I probably stink.

Roy was so focused on watching yet not watching the gorgeous view in front of him that he almost didn’t notice the footsteps hesitantly approaching him.

What he failed to notice, however, was that those footsteps were far too heavy to belong to the small Lilina, and so when he whipped around with a cry of  “Oh, thank the gods I thought—” he was as disappointed at the lack of blue hair and knowing smile as he was mortified by the tall man with familiar red hair standing directly behind him.

“Ah,” said Eliwood, unable to vocalize anything else and looking just as frightened.

Roy stood slack-jawed, opening and closing his mouth for several seconds before turning just as quickly back around, as if the other man was an apparition he could will away.

            Instead, he took a step closer, the wooden foundation creaking under his boot. “Forgive me,” he said with what sounded like considerable effort. “A friend of mine told me to meet him here at sundown.”

            A few seconds of silence passed as Roy tried and failed to come up with something to say.

            His father eventually broke the silence again. “Are you…waiting for someone as well?” He asked as he tried and failed to covertly step closer, old wood creaking below his boots.

            Roy didn’t turn around, but it seemed like he had found his voice at least. “Yes—” his voice came out in a nervous squeak before he covered it up with a loud cough. “I mean, yes. It’s…uh, it’s Lilina. She told me to meet her here.”

            “I see,” said Eliwood with a small chuckle, voice light with fondness.

            Roy pulled his arms in closer, hoping his father wasn’t watching him too closely, and hoped desperately that Lilina would come soon so that he could very politely escape as soon as possible. Just tell him that you’ll go wait by the nearest entrance.  He thought and moved to tell him just that.

            “I—"

            “Might I…wait here with you? You have quite a lovely view at the sunset.” asked Eliwood, completely shattering Roy’s genius plan. “I will leave as soon as Lilina arrives, of course!” he added on quickly. “You kids need your privacy I’m sure—”

            “It’s fine!” Roy blurted out instinctively at the mention of Lilina before realizing his mistake.

            Eliwood’s eyes widened in surprise. “Truly?” he asked, taken aback.

            Roy couldn’t think of anything to say and nodded, quickly turning to watch the sunset.

            “Well…in that case…” Eliwood muttered before tentatively walking up to the edge of the gazebo where Roy was. A white wooden beam separated them, giving Roy a small comfort that his father wasn’t too close.

            Eliwood heaved a contented sigh from somewhere on Roy’s left, but Roy didn’t react. Instead, he stood completely frozen, too tense to even really breathe comfortably.

            Please, please get here soon, Lilina! He begged.

            But Lilina still did not come, and the two men sat in increasingly uncomfortable silence.

            By now Roy made no attempts to hide his concerns about his friend, regularly craning his neck in both directions in the vain hope of seeing a shock of red and blue approaching against the slowly darkening landscape.

            He heard rustling to his left, and the occasional strand of red hair bobbing in and out of his vision let him know that Eliwood was probably looking for the same thing.

            Practically choking on dead air, Roy had decided to send out a lifeline. “So,” he began, trying not to notice how Eliwood jolted at the sudden noise. “who…are you waiting for?” he tried to make the question sound casual, but the persistent awkward squeak in his voice gave him away in an instant. He had just hoped that his father was significantly less observant in his younger days.

            Evidently, he was correct, if the completely natural and not at all forced cough he had heard from the other side of the pillar was any indication. “Oh, he’s just a Hero that I’ve befriended during my time here. I believe you may know him as well? His name is

Marth,”

            “Oh!” Roy exclaimed, genuinely relieved. “Yes, I know him. He’s very kind. We spar and…uh, chat over tea sometimes.”

            “That’s good,” said Eliwood. “I, myself have made a habit of sparring with him. He’s far more skilled than he looks,” he laughed knowingly. Roy allowed himself a chuckle at his own memories of being knocked flat by the gentle swordsman. He almost missed his father quietly remark “I’m glad you’re making friends here.”

            And, well, Roy didn’t exactly know how to respond to that. It was a natural thing for a father to say, wasn’t it? But something about his tone bothered him.

            Why does he sound so…relieved?

            “Were…were you worried about me?” He asked, feeling both bolder and more frightened than he had in weeks.

            “Of course! You’re my son! I…I’m always worried about you,” Eliwood said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

            Roy politely declined mentioning that his father was currently only about a head taller than him, and not nearly old enough to be the father of a teenage boy.

            “I…appreciate it,” he said as though it wasn’t quite the right word, “but I’m sure by now you’ve been briefed on the existence of other Worlds. You, uh, don’t have to act like my father if you don’t want to,” He flashed an awkward smile to his left before remembering that there was a massive post between the two of them.

            This should end the conversation between us amicably, right?

            “Oh, I know. I do want to!” the other man said just a smidge too eagerly.

            “Ah,” said Roy, and the thick silence enveloped them once more.

            This is worse somehow.

            Roy squirmed in the encroaching twilight. He thought briefly about braving the silence for as long as it took for Lilina to get there—whenever that would be—but there was something about Eliwood’s response that nagged at him for some reason.

            “Why?”

            “Bwuh—” Eliwood sputtered to his left, clearly not expecting a response.

            “Why do you want to?” Roy asked again.

            Eliwood was silent for a long time. Roy had almost thought he had left somehow. “That…is honestly rather difficult to answer,” he said finally. “Maybe it has something to do with the magic that Summons us here, but there are just some things I understood as soon as I came here. One of which being that the little boy I left back home in Pherae and the tall, red-haired, blue-eyed teen Hero I’m chatting with right now are one in the same. And yes, I know you likely aren’t really that same boy, but that doesn’t matter. When I look at you, my mind tells me ‘that’s Roy, that’s my son,’ and, well, that’s good enough for me.” He laughed then, and it was overflowing with warmth.

            Roy’s hand flew up to his reddened face, embarrassed and unused to so much parental affection. His better judgement told him he should say something to such a genuine outpour of emotion, but he couldn’t think of anything other than a noncommittal “I see,” and focused on staring directly ahead and not looking anywhere near the other man’s direction. He could tell Eliwood was still talking, but he couldn’t pick out any sort of specific details from the seemingly endless stream of babble.

            The young lord’s nails dug into the white paint. He had thought his father would find the situation just as awkward and uncomfortable as he did, but he just kept talking. Back home, he had never thought is father to be so…chatty. A kind and well-respected nobleman, Marquess Eliwood of Pherae carried himself with the aura that sort of title would suggest. The man Roy knew from his most recent memories had a calm air about him, amicable yet deliberate; a man used to debate. Seeing him prattling on like…well, like a boy close to Roy’s age nervously and desperately stalling for time made Roy feel more than a little odd.

            “Are you alright over there?” Eliwood called out, snapping Roy out of his thoughts. “You’ve grown rather quiet.”

            Roy’s first instinct was to purse his lips tighter together and say nothing, but the footsteps he heard draw closer caused him to practically leap away from the approaching man, arms thrust forward. “Nononono I’m fine!” he lied, wracking his brain for a less panicked response. “I’m, uh, just wondering when Lilina is going to arrive. She is…quite late is all,” he laughed nervously. It wasn’t technically a lie, anyway.

            The footsteps stopped just short of his outstretched hands. Thank the gods, he thought, feeling that whatever higher power that was enjoying watching him squirm was throwing him a bone for once.

            However, the new lack of distance between the two lords allowed Roy to look at the other man’s face for the first time that night—and the bitterly sad smile it held.

            “You really don’t want to talk to me, do you, Roy?” he asked, voice soft. His face was still that of the young Lord Eliwood in his prime, but the eyes creased with sympathy that stared him down with a hint of apprehension held the years of a much older man.

            “I…” Roy said lamely, unable to muster up even a flimsy excuse. There would be no point, anyway—Eliwood was completely right.

            As the air around them came to a steely halt, Roy had the distinct feeling Lilina was never going to arrive.

            An unknown emotion crossed over Eliwood’s face before he took a small step backward. “It’s alright, I understand. Like I’ve told you, I was made aware of a great many things when I was Summoned to Askr. I know everything about the World you and Lilina come from, and I—” His eyes dropped, unable to look at Roy’s. “I can only beg your forgiveness for its condition.”

            Roy felt what color was left in his face drain away in an instant. “W-what are you saying?” he asked.

            His father flashed that same bitter smile. “There’s no need for that, Roy. Lilina told Hector and I everything. About Bern, my illness, about…Lyn and Hector’s deaths,” his voice faltered but he continued. “All I have heard from people of your World is that everything my friends and I did, all we sacrificed, eventually ends in a colossal failure, unable to ensure a safe future for our people…or our children,” he glanced at Roy as if he had just been kicked in the face.

            Roy stood in silence, eyes darting between Eliwood and literally anywhere else.

            “Ah, forgive me. I’ve talked your ear off quite enough. I’ll…take my leave of you now,” he said as he turned to walk away.

            Roy’s head went blank. “W-wait!” he reached out and grabbed the other man’s wrist. “Don’t go!”

            Eliwood’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But…I thought—”

            “You didn’t fail us!” he cried out unthinking. “Lilina, Wolt, and I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you and everything you’ve done. You’re—you’re heroes!”

            Eliwood shifted uncomfortably in Roy’s grip. “Roy—”

But Roy wasn’t done. “You can’t be a failure! If you’re a failure, then that means I must be something even worse! I’m expected to lead both Pherae and Ostia’s forces in your place, but I’m not strong, cunning, or experienced enough. Half of the army’s already surpassed me in terms of power; I couldn’t catch up to them if I tried. And yet, because I’m your son, they treat me as the most important thing on the battlefield—they protect me with their lives, they would rather die than have me come to harm, and every day I’m terrified that my incompetence is going to make that happen.

“They need someone who is fierce like Lady Lyndis or strong like Lord Hector, or just…anything like you at all, but they don’t! They want me to be like you—I want to be like you—so badly, but I’m nothing like you. I’m the failure.”

Hot tears fell freely down Roy’s face as his throat clamped shut, mercifully damming the torrent of endless fears and insecurities from spilling out any further. This was a cold comfort, however, as he was now acutely aware of Eliwood staring at him, and it only made him more embarrassed.

Why did I say all of that? His thoughts were erratic.

Why did I say all of that to him?

            Why is he just looking at me? Why isn’t he saying anything?

            Why am I still holding onto him? That last thought was punctuated by him letting go of the other man’s wrist as if it was a hot iron, watching it fall uselessly to his side.

            Roy suddenly desperately wished for Eliwood to start babbling again, as his continued silence while he watched him have a breakdown was far worse to bear.

            I have to get out of here, was the only coherent thought Roy had at the moment, and he began to back away.

            I have to get out of here, I have to get out of here, I have to—

            A hesitant hand gripping the end of his glove stopped him dead despite the lack of strength behind it.

            Roy slowly brought his eyes to meet the other’s—despite every fiber of his being telling him to keep running—and saw that Eliwood’s eyes were brimming with tears of his own, lower lip quivering. Slightly.

            “All this time,” he said, voice strained, “have you been carrying all of this pressure yourself?”

            Roy said nothing, but that seemed to be answer enough for Eliwood.

            “Oh, my poor boy,” he cried, pulling Roy into an awkward sort of embrace that the other neither reciprocated nor pulled away from, as unsure as the hands hovering over his back.

            “I know that one conversation will not alleviate all of the burden off of your shoulders—trust me, I know,” Eliwood said from somewhere above Roy’s head. “But know this: there is not a single thing you could do in this world or the next that could make me ever consider you a failure. In fact, the more I hear about what you’ve done in mine and Hector’s absence, I only grow more and more impressed. You’ve brought hope back to so many people that had lost it, and I know you will continue to do so for however long it takes until Elibe is safe again. War lays heavily on the minds of every Hero that comes to Askr, but those that know you speak of you and your deeds with a smile. And is that not a wonderful thing?” He gave Roy’s back a small rub before moving his hands to the young lord’s shoulders. “Look at me,” he coaxed gently, and Roy reluctantly obeyed.

“I know that the little boy I left back home is not the exact same as you, but when I hear of the good things you do for these people, I grow more and more eager to return to him and watch him grow into the young man standing before me now. You are my son, and I could never be more proud of you, Roy.”

Roy looked at the man standing before him—at the gentle warmth that radiated off of his tearful smile—and for the first time since his arrival he saw not the marquess, the adventurer, or the hero. Instead he saw the man that tended to his skinned knees, told stories of his mother on nights when they both missed her, who wrote letters filled to the brim with love and support when he studied abroad.

The man that was always patient, always gentle, always loved him no matter what.

Roy hadn’t been aware that he was crying again until he felt a few large drops hit his gloves.

            “Oh, Roy. I’m sorry,” Eliwood took his hands off Roy’s shoulders. “I didn’t mean to—”

            He was silenced by Roy throwing his arms around him, holding him for dear life. “I’m—I’m sorry, father.” Roy attempted to speak through his sobs. “F-for—avoiding you—and--”

            “Shh, it’s alright,” Eliwoood resumed patting his son’s head, slightly confused but focused on comforting the boy to the best of his ability.

            “I—I was—so scared—”

            “I know,” Eliwood’s hand paused for a moment. “I was too.”

            “Mwuh?” Roy’s head snapped upwards, face still soaking wet.

            “Between you avoiding me and everything I’d learned of your World since being Summoned, I was rapidly growing convinced that you hated me. I had half a mind to run away when I saw you here tonight.”

            “W-what?!” Roy looked at his father in shock, chest heaving from sobs he was forcing back down.

            “Indeed. My only thought was ‘by the gods, he can’t even stand to be near me. I must be a horrible father!’”

            “No!” Roy gasped before shoving his face back into his father’s chest. “No, no, no.” The incredibly sparse amount of self-control he had just gotten back all but disintegrated, and he was back to sobbing uncontrollably while his father provided what comfort he could.

            Roy felt too many different emotions as he stood in his father’s embrace. His embarrassment at crying—crying loudly—in public wrestled with his guilt over causing his father pain, running away from his problems, likely scaring Lilina away with his ugly crying, and that amorphous, shadowy feeling of not being enough hanging over it all.

            And yet, a part of him felt…nice, somehow. His father’s warmth surrounded him, patting his head like he had done countless times when he was a little boy, just holding him for as long as he needed. He was reminded of how much he had wished for that same warmth during sleepless nights in his tent, unsure of what tomorrow held and feeling so utterly alone. He seemed to be just short of the mark in almost all things, so of course the person he loved and respected most would feel the same, would look at him with those same worried and unsure eyes as so many others back home?

            But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. It seemed so obvious to him now—as it should have been from the beginning, he berated himself—but all he could do was feel relieved. Yes, that was it, guilt, embarrassment, fear, relief all flowing out of him at once, seemingly without end.

            Roy didn’t know how long they stood out there in the darkening sky, only that there was a charming path of lanterns dotting the gardens by the time he could breathe normally.

            “Feeling better?” Eliwood asked once Roy had finally pulled away.

            “Yes,” Roy’s voice was hoarse and his eyes felt as if they were made of cotton, but he felt weightless all the same. “I—”

            That missing weight hit him like a sack of bricks once he realized those lanterns had not been lit when he had arrived.

            “What’s wrong, son?” Eliwood followed Roy’s line of sight. “Ah.”

            “You don’t suppose those were lit remotely by magic, do you?”

            Eliwood grimaced in sympathy. “No, I do not believe they were.”

            “Oh, gods,” Roy buried his face in his hands and slumped to the ground. “please don’t tell anybody else about how much I cried,” he mumbled through his fingers.

            Eliwood made a face at that. “Now, Roy; there’s nothing wrong with cry—”

            “Please, father?” Roy begged, face fully red.

            “Alright, alright. I won’t tell a soul,” Eliwood replied with a clear note of amusement in his voice. “I wouldn’t worry about servants gossiping, though. Something tells me that people who serve the Order of Heroes are used to some…interesting situations.”

            Roy nodded, though his face wore a deep frown. “If you say so…”

            “Ah, look! The first stars are out!” Eliwood ran to the sill and excitedly pointed at a smattering of lights in the distant sky.

            Roy looked at the starry sky and gave a contented sigh. Although there still weren’t many out, the gentle twinkling up above them combined with the warm glow of the garden’s lanterns made the young lord feel completely at ease. “I wish Lilina had made it. She would love watching the stars come out like this.”

            “Is that so?” Eliwood chuckled as he gave his son a knowing look.

            “F-father! It’s not like that at all! She’s my friend, you know that,” Roy’s face was dusted with red.

            “Alright, alright,” Eliwood’s eyes danced with mirth. “I am sorry that you two were unable to meet.”

            “It’s alright. She’d probably find this a more favorable outcome, anyway. She and Prince Marth both have been trying to get me to speak with you for ages,” Roy laughed, but stopped when he saw his father’s furrowed brow. “What is it, father?”

            “Prince Marth, you say?” he asked with a hand on his chin.

            “I…yes. I had seen him in the library today before meeting you. Now that I think about it, he was acting rather odd once Lilina showed up,” Roy offered up, unsure of what point Eliwood was trying to make.

            “And he had told me to meet him here at sundown after an unsuccessful attempt at getting me to approach you. At the exact time Lilina told you to meet her here.”

            The realization hit Roy a moment later. “You don’t mean--! Those two--!” He was shocked beyond words.

            Eliwood burst into laughter. “Indeed. It would seem that your friends were not content to simply watch us keep dragging our feet,” he said while trying to stifle a laugh—both at the situation and Roy’s rapidly deteriorating composure.

            “I can’t believe they would use us like that!”

            “I know, Roy.”

            “Lilina poured her heart out to me, made me feel horrible, only to end up tricking me!”

            “I know, Roy.”

            “And I fell for it! I fell for Marth trying to trick me! Do you know how horrendous of a liar that man is?!”

            “I do, Roy,” Eliwood said as he ruffled his son’s bangs with only a slight hesitation. “I am also well aware that you have had quite the day and should probably get some rest.”

            “But—”

            “Especially since a certain workaholic son of mine has himself scheduled for dawn patrols for the next three days,” Eliwood punctuated his last point with a pointed look in Roy’s direction that the young lord expertly avoided. He didn’t voice it, but there was a clear question of Why on Earth would you do that behind the expression that Roy was definitely not looking at.

            “Yeah, well…Kiran needs all the help they can get, you know?” Roy said casually.

            “Mhm. I’m sure,” said Eliwood. “Now, to bed with you,” he gently pushed Roy forward.

            “Alright, I’m going,” Roy laughed. “Though I’m definitely aiming for Marth’s leg when we spar next,” he added bitterly. He’d have mentioned Lilina too, but almost everyone in the Order of Heroes knew that you bothered Lilina at your own peril.

            “Very well. Make sure to aim for his right,” Eliwood said casually.

            “Why’s that?” Roy asked.

            “So he won’t be terribly sore after I hit his left,” Eliwood’s eyes had a twinkle of mischief that Roy was unaccustomed to, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

            “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Roy smiled as he turned onto the path. As he stepped forward, however, he found himself unwilling to leave. “Uh…” he tried to think of something to say but once again came up short. “I hope to speak with you again sometime.”

            Eliwood’s expression softened. “So do I. Sleep well, Roy.”

            Roy stood with his back to his father for a moment before quickly turning around, surrounding Eliwood in an awkard, but meaningful hug. “Sleep well, father,” he answered before letting go as quickly as he embraced him and running off towards the nearest door, the sound of his father’s muffled laughter barely reaching his ears.

            The next few days passed by with relative ease, neither an attack nor sign of bandits. Which made for a peaceful—if very boring—round of morning patrols for a certain young lord. He rose before the sun on mornings he was tasked with patrolling the grounds, yet Roy had found him self bursting with energy regardless of how early it was.

            Today he walked briskly from the Heroes’ quarters to the Plaza, flagged by the beginnings of a sunrise through the castle’s large windows. Still early for most, but much later than he had been rising as of late. There was the vague beginnings of a crowd in the Order’s halls, scattered patches of early-risers and insomniacs, but it was nothing compared to the bustle that would overtake them in less than an hour’s time. For the moment, Roy enjoyed the quiet and regarded the other Heroes with a friendly wave as he headed toward his destination.

            “A good morning to you, Lord Roy!” a familiar voice called as he walked past, and while he didn’t stop, Roy slowed slightly to allow them to catch up.

            “General Cecilia, good morning!” said Roy, giving his teacher a courteous smile. “It’s good to see you.”

            “And you as well. It feels like quite some time since I’ve been able to speak with you or Lady Lilina,” Cecilia’s voice was warm and calming, as usual. “How have you been faring recently?” her tone was consistent, but Roy recognized something in the question that reminded him of being quizzed during his studies.

            “I’ve been doing quite well, recently. I’m actually headed to the pegasi stables at the moment. I missed the original lift up to the Aether Resort and Eir offered to give me a ride.”

            “The Aether Resort? I thought you were still banned from the task board. Something about an overabundance of scheduled hours…?”  she asked with the air of someone who already knew the answer.

            Roy faltered for just a moment. “Well…yes, but…I’m not scheduled, but I wanted to help out in the fields today anyway,” Roy hesitated before adding “…my father is scheduled for today.”

            “I see,” Cecilia hummed in satisfaction. “That is good to hear. You must send Lord Eliwood my regards. For now, I have my own business to attend to. Have a good time, Roy,” the general smiled warmly as she broke off of Roy’s pace, waving him off as she disappeared down one of the castle’s many hallways

            Roy waved back, feeling a little embarrassed, and quickened his pace to the stables where Eir was waiting, her spectral Pegasus already saddled.

            Aside from a polite greeting and warning to hold on tight, the princess was silent for the duration of the ride--for which Roy was grateful, as he was still very unused to flying. If Eir was amused or offended by the young lord’s distinct lack of grace, she made no indication and instead solemnly guided her steed to the smaller of two islands suspended in the clouds, flying along the golden chain that tethered them together.

            Roy gripped the pegasus’s hide tightly—which held despite feeling like grabbing smoke—as it rose high in the air above the Aether Resort to prepare its descent. “…You wished to visit the fields today, correct?” Eir asked above the roaring wind currents.

            Roy frantically nodded, doing his absolute best to remain composed.

            “Very well…” Eir guided her Pegasus in a circle before plunging down.

            Roy bit the insides of his lips as the wind whipped at his face. Don’t scream don’t scream don’t scream—

            “We’ve…arrived,” Eir spoke quietly, averting her eyes. Sure enough, the Pegasus had touched down on the cobblestone paths that encircled the various buildings of the Aether Resort without the young lord’s notice.

            “Ah,” he spoke thoughtlessly before forcing a cough and straightening up his hair. “I mean, thank you very much for ferrying me up here, Princess Eir.”

            “It was no trouble,” said Eir. “I…am happy to be of service whenever you need me. However…” she anxiously fiddled with her silvery hair.

            “However…?” Roy asked, still seated on the pegasus.

            “…Please do not grab Snorri like that next time. He may be dead, but he can still feel discomfort,” she looked away, as if ashamed.

            “O-oh. Right,” Roy’s face turned a bright shade of pink as he slid off of the beast’s back—which was relatively easy since it didn’t actually have any hair. “Sorry about that…Snorri,” he patted the pegasus’s flank apologetically, ignoring the whuff-whuff of his hand passing through the black clouds that made up its “body”. The animal knickered in response.

            Eir gave a ghost of a smile before turning to the fields, where a few Heroes were gathering farming equipment. “They’re starting without you…” she said, pointing.

            “Oh, right!” Roy ran off towards the other Heroes before turning back around and yelling “T-thank you, Princess Eir!” without stopping.

            Roy was only vaguely aware of the sound of a pegaus taking flight behind him as he raced toward the crop fields, boots pounding on the stone path. His nerves melted away to excitement with every step, and soon his face was beaming like the sun far above him.

            It doesn’t matter what happened before or happens later, he thought. He breezed through the process of putting on gloves and a hat, giving a bright hello to the other Heroes before running into the dirt of the fields.

            Just for now,

            He looked out over the rows of tilled dirt and smiled at the familiar head of vibrant red hair tucked into an ill-fitting straw hat.

            I’ll live happily.

            “Father! I’m here!”