Chapter Text
Every other student at Garreg Mach Monastery seemed so mature, so grown-up. Dorothea was tall and elegant, barely even awkward at eighteen. Ingrid and Dimitri were proper, straitlaced, and earnest. Leonie was self-sufficient and independent. Raphael and Dedue were tall and strong. Felix was sharp and skilled. Even her seemingly carefree house leader, Claude, had a surprising amount of composure, and even the shiest students, Bernadetta and Marianne, were older and seemed to have more experience under their belts.
Here, more than ever, Lysithea felt like a baby.
She had always been the baby of the family. But she was too young to even remember her older siblings. They had been torn away from her before she even knew their names. Reading the Ordelia family register, she tried to convince herself that she recognized her siblings’ names, but it didn’t matter now that they were gone. She’d been the only one remaining, so her parents had lavished their love on her.
Father had sheltered her, never denying her anything she wanted. It was hard to say no to him, but once she got older, she had to start pushing him away, because Mother wanted her to grow up. She loved Lysithea, but she knew Lysithea couldn’t stay “their baby” forever. Lysithea’ s condition made her even more determined not to be a baby anymore. She wanted people to take her seriously. If only she’d hit her growth spurt before coming to Garreg Mach, or her voice had lost some of its preteen shrillness.
In reality, all those kids around her were just that, kids. Except for the oldest students like Mercedes and Sylvain, they were kids as curious, eager, and quirky as she was. If they seemed mature, it was only because they’d had to grow up too quickly. Lysithea understood that perfectly. There had to be other people who felt like she did, who wanted to retain their childhood innocence and hold onto it, yet they couldn’t, pressured into their roles as future rulers, the heirs of noble houses, or the inheritors of the family business.
But she was too preoccupied with her own education to worry about her classmates. If her housemates in the Golden Deer invited her to a study party again, she’d have to turn the invitation down. Doing anything productive had been utterly impossible with Hilda and Raphael there, and Lorenz and Claude’s argument had consumed most of the rest of the time. The most productive session she’d had was archery with Ignatz and Claude. When he wasn’t trying to keep Hilda and Lorenz in line, Claude had no trouble focusing, and Ignatz seemed a lot less nervous without Raphael around. Leonie had joined the mix, making training even more enjoyable. Though she’d learned a lot, her hands had been shaky after working with the bow all afternoon. The place she really belonged was the library.
The library was the best place for people taking their studies seriously. It was much better than going to the training grounds, where she always ran the risk of getting hurt or overexerting herself and passing out, and no one needed to see that. If anyone knew how “frail” she was, they’d baby and coddle her. She didn’t really want to do any sort of weapon training at all, especially because she was so gifted in magic. Lifting a tome was no trouble at all, and she memorized the spells so quickly that she didn’t need the spellbook anyway.
Having conquered the beginner spellbook in two weeks, she’d moved on to the intermediate book. She was studying Reason magic, elemental spells. Faith magic still presented a challenge to her. She understood the theory well enough. Faith spells required a powerful feeling, usually religious belief, but she had never been particularly religious. Instead of going to the church service that was being held early that morning, she excused herself by saying she really needed to finish an assignment. She wanted to figure out if there was another method to casting Faith magic successfully.
The library was almost empty. The librarian had gone to church. None of the usual suspects—Claude, Ignatz, Linhardt, or Ashe—roamed the library. Lysithea could settle in for a quiet study session and, with no one around, maybe even try conjuring a spell. Then she heard the door creak, and soft footsteps entered the library. She waited until the person had walked to the back of the library to look up from her book.
It was the girl she’d seen in the library a few times before. She had light brown skin and purplish-pink hair done up in a fancy braid. Lysithea was pretty sure she was a member of the Black Eagle House. She hadn’t met her yet, but she thought she remembered her name being Petra. Though Petra wasn’t in the library nearly as often as the boys, she was the girl who visited the library most frequently—after Lysithea, of course. She didn’t know very much about Petra, but she did know that the books people read revealed their interests and priorities.
She continued to read the passage where she had stopped before Petra had come in, glancing up now and then to see if she’d picked out a book. Petra stood with her chin between her forefinger and thumb, inspecting the shelf with one hip cocked. Straightening her posture, she reached out and pulled a textbook about magic from the shelf.
Lysithea’s stomach turned over. Was Petra a mage, too? It wasn’t that Lysithea didn’t mind working with Marianne, just that it could get stressful always having to encourage her, and no one else in her house was particularly skilled in magic. Except for Lorenz, who was considerably talented and had even studied magic in the Kingdom, but he was a pain, always going on about his noble duties.
The Black Eagles, on the other hand, seemed to have a lot of talented mages. Petra was always here looking for books. Unlike Linhardt, who’d asked her time and time again about her “secret” even though it was none of his business, Petra had never bothered her. Maybe Petra had a Crest, too. Or maybe she didn’t. Lysithea really didn’t know much about her. But she was eagerly scanning the book, one hand holding it open, one tracing each line from beginning to end, engrossed in her studies.
Lysithea hardly realized that she’d been staring at Petra just as intensely as Petra had been staring at the book until she slid the book back onto the shelf. Lysithea blinked herself back to reality, returning to her own reading. No, she just wanted to study magic with someone from a different class. It had nothing to do with Petra being a girl, and nothing to do with how eager and invested she looked when she read books, the same way Lysithea felt whenever she dove into a book. And it definitely had nothing to do with that funny feeling in her stomach she got when she looked at Petra. That was probably a sign she needed to head to the dining hall for a break. She was getting better at maintaining a proper schedule. It was necessary to make the best of her time rather than wasting it.
—
Half an hour later, when the bells chimed eleven, Lysithea left the library, arriving at the dining hall early. She would probably be the first one there, as Petra’s nose was still buried in a thick tome when she left, and everyone else would be in church for a half hour longer.
She was delighted to see they were serving rabbit skewers. Though she’d have to pick off the vegetables, she loved wild, gamey meats. Especially the sweet fruit sauce they marinated it in, which was beyond delicious. It was hard to go without grabbing a piece of cake, but she hadn’t been productive enough that morning to justify it. Plus, she needed something meatier to give her more energy.
She’d just begun delicately scraping the hunks of meat off of the skewers when someone cleared their throat in the middle of her task. She prepared to fire a smart retort, but she froze when she saw Petra standing in front of her holding a tray.
“Is this seat for the taking?”
Lysithea blinked, dumbfounded. “Um…”
“If you were wanting to sit alone, I am not meaning to invade on your privacy. However, I have been seeing you in the library, and I could not help but to notice how hard you are studying. May I also be breaking with you?”
She had seen her in the library, too? Had she been watching her?
“Sure. I mean, yes. Go ahead. Though I might not be able to talk much, seeing as I’m eating one of my favorite meals right now.”
“I am eating the same thing!” She smiled. Her wide brown eyes lit up with excitement, enthusiasm in her every word. “Oh, my apologies for not giving you my introduction. I am being called Petra, and I am a member of the Black Eagle House. What are you being called?”
“My name is Lysithea. I’m from the Alliance, so I’m in the Golden Deer.”
“It is nice to finally be meeting you, Lysithea. You can probably be seeing that I am not from Fódlan. The language of Fódlan has many difficulties… is difficult for me to learn. But I am giving my hardest trying.”
“You don’t have to worry. I can understand you just fine.”
“Truthfully?” Petra’s expression turned a little bashful, and Lysithea’s heart skipped. “That is having much meaning to me. You have my most heartfelt thanks.”
Lysithea offered a small smile, then turned back to cutting up her meat. Petra turned to her lunch as well, also scraping the meat and vegetables off the skewer and cutting the meat.
“Are you not liking vegetables?” Petra asked.
Lysithea wrinkled her nose. “They’re gross. You can have them.”
“My gratitude.”
Petra forked the peppers and onions onto her plate one by one. She stacked a few on her fork, then added some meat and took a bite.
“So you are liking wild meat,” she said. “I have been noticing many Fódlan nobles eat wild meat, but they are not liking to hunt. But some commoners are enjoying hunting. How is it for you?”
Lysithea frowned in thought. “I’d never really thought about going hunting before. Besides, magic is more my forte. It’s not really worth it to waste a spell on a rabbit or deer.”
“Hunting with magic would be having challenges. Magic is making much noise and spectacle. Prey would be noticing magic very quickly and make its escape.”
“That makes sense.” She’d never thought too much about magic being loud and shiny. “Bows and arrows would help hunters to avoid being noticed.”
“So you have never been hunting?”
“Never.”
Petra’s eyes widened. “I can barely be imagining a life without hunting. I come from Brigid. It is a small archipelago in the sea off the Empire’s coast. We are always hunting in the jungles of Brigid. When we are not hunting in the jungle, we make harpoons or fishing rods so that we can be catching fish. Hunting has importance, not only for food, but also for life. We must be using the land for its plentiful gifts and thanking the land for what it is giving us.”
Lysithea hummed with a short nod to show her interest. “When you don’t have everything handed to you on a silver platter from the time you’re born, you really have to work to get it. I appreciate that you’ve experienced that yourself.”
“So you are understanding the importance of working with hardness? But when you were saying you were not hunting, that made me suspect that you are a noble.”
“I am, but it’s somewhat complicated. And it’s not something I asked for.”
All she really wanted to do was have a quiet life with her parents. She didn’t want to participate in any politics. Currently, she was trying to convince them to give up their land. But her parents hardly budged, even knowing exactly what the Insurrection of Seven had gotten them.
“What I really meant about hard work is that it’s annoying whenever people call me a prodigy. I don’t have a gift. I’m just like any other student, except I work twice as hard. And because I focus on magic, I have my own weaknesses.”
Petra’s eyes lit up. “You are having skill in magic? I am having much interest in Fódlan magic!”
“Does magic not exist in Brigid?”
“There is magic in Brigid. But magic is having much difference from Fódlan magic. There is no, um, magic of light. I am not sure how you are saying this in the Fódlan language. It is coming from believing in the Fódlan goddess.”
“Faith magic?”
“Yes, Faith magic. People of Brigid have skill in the magic of fire, wind, and thunder. And we are not using spells to cast this magic.”
“So your magic is like our Faith magic, just with elementals instead of light.”
“Yes, because it is coming from inside you. From little pieces of the Spirits that all are making their homes inside of us. We call the Flame Spirit, or the Wind Spirit, or the Spirit of Storms, and the Spirits grant us magic and protection. The Spirits are having similarities with the Fódlan Saints, but only because they are giving us protection. The Spirits are not people like the Fódlan Saints. The Spirits are being the wind and the flames themselves.”
“Wow,” Lysithea marveled. “That sounds fascinating!”
Petra’s explanation opened new doors for her. She’d never studied how magic was casted in other countries, and hadn’t realized there might be other ways to conjure the various types of magic. Then again, she didn’t recall seeing any titles on the magic of Brigid, or Morfis, or Almyra in the library. Could Reason magic really be cast without spells or tomes?
Maybe she could help Petra figure it out. They could figure it out together.
“Hey, Petra, maybe we can find a way to help you call on the spirits.”
Petra raised her eyebrows. “We can be doing that?”
“Of course.” This would give her the chance to get to study magic with Petra, just like she’d thought about while she was in the library. “Learning a new way of casting magic would be insightful and enjoyable. And I want to learn not to rely on spells, too, so I’ll help you.”
“This is very selfless of you. I must be showing you how to hunt as repaying.”
“Really? You think a mage like me could be a hunter, too?”
It wasn’t as if she’d been completely disinterested in archery. She could manage a bow just fine. And considering magic did draw on just a little of her precious energy—her very life force—every time she used it, she needed a backup.
Petra nodded, again with her infectious enthusiasm. “You are having my promise. If you teach me Fódlan magic, I will be teaching you the way of Brigid hunters.”
“Then we have no time to waste. Let’s start drawing up a schedule right away. First, we’ve got to start with theory. We can’t jump right into practice.”
“A theory of hunting?” Petra hummed in thought. “Hunting is very practical. I must be making time to think about a theory of hunting.”
“No problem. I’ll start first. Can you meet me in the library Wednesday afternoon? It’s usually less busy in the middle of the week.” Mostly she’d chosen Wednesday because that was the day Linhardt was usually out fishing.
“It is a deal,” Petra said with finality.
—
Petra had begun crafting the point of a new harpoon. It wasn’t that her old harpoon she’d brought with her to the monastery had broken, more that Lysithea would need one, and the blacksmith at the market in Garreg Mach did not sell harpoons, only fishing rods. Petra knew the difference between theory and practice, but it was hard to talk about something she just naturally did, something that required strength and a knowledge of one’s body and environment.
She couldn’t get too absorbed in crafting the harpoon. She still had to meet Lysithea that afternoon, and she felt more excited about that than anything she had learned that day. Even their class trip to the stables had not been more exciting than her promised magic theory session. The more Petra knew about how magic was cast in Fódlan, the better she could learn to call on the Spirits and harness her innate magic power.
Lysithea was tapping her foot, her fingers laced together on the table, when Petra arrived in the near-empty library.
Petra’s stomach dropped. “I am not having lateness, am I?” she said, wringing her hands as she came up beside Lysithea.
“Actually, you’re right on time. It’s been about half an hour since the church bells went off.”
“You are having a great sense of time passing. This is also a skill that I possess.”
“It’s because I need to make the most of every minute.”
“That is also why I am carefully tracking time. I cannot afford to waste any of it.” She pulled out the chair next to Lysithea and sat down. “That is meaning we must be… I mean, begin.”
Lysithea glanced quickly at her. Pierced by the fierceness of Lysithea’s pink gaze, Petra’s heart skipped.
Lysithea turned to the thick book in front of her. “This is a good text for beginners. It’s called The Compendium of Light and Dark. It talks all about Reason and Faith magic and the basics of casting. Spell memorization, casting stance, focusing spells, dealing with energy depletion. It’s all covered in here. I’ll keep it brief, since I’m sure the Black Eagles are learning at least some of this.”
Petra reached in the bag slung across her body and took out her small spellbook. “I have been given this.”
“Oh, good, so you’ve got the beginner book. I can help you with that, since I’m almost done with the intermediate book.”
“You are moving with quickness. Is there a secret technique to memorization? I would be learning magic with eagerness if I was having better memorization.”
Lysithea hummed. “I could tell you the way the Compendium and the professors say to do it. Or I could teach you my way.”
“I have heard the way that comes from the professors. Our professor is saying this. First, you must say it in your head. When you are saying it out loud, you may have an accident with your magic. You must say it in your head three times. Stare at the book and hear the spell in your head. Then you must be trying to say it out loud. And you must be focusing.”
“And is that way working for you?”
Petra frowned. “It would be working, but I am having difficulty with pronouncing spells. The spells are from a very, very old version of the Fódlan language. I am only knowing the modern Fódlan language. So I am falling over the words, even when our professor tells us how to say it.”
Lysithea nodded. “It’s tricky at first. Especially since the spellbook doesn’t tell you how to pronounce the spells, because they just assume everyone knows how to read runes. I’ve got something that’ll help you with that.” She opened the cover of the thick book and pulled out a chart. “Here’s a key I copied from a tool that manuscript scholars use.”
“I can be having this?”
“Sure. I don’t really use it that much anymore, since I’ve memorized the runic alphabet.”
“This will be giving me a great help.” Petra folded the chart along its trifold lines.
“Anyway, that whole thing about saying spells out loud? That’s not true. It’s an old superstition. You can say a spell normally and nothing’ll happen. Casting is all about position and focus.”
Petra smiled. “That is giving me relief! I was afraid to be trying the words out loud. But I learn best when I am reading to myself out loud. Especially because I am still learning Fódlan’s language.”
“So do you want to try memorizing a spell the way I do it?”
“What is the way you are doing it?”
“I say it out loud. Close my eyes and repeat it under my breath. Sometimes right before I’m about to cast, and sometimes when I’m just walking around the monastery or waiting for dinner. Waiting in line is a great time to learn spells. Like this… Rendhut fo pristis eris, nad llac ym dehe.”
Petra tensed, waiting for a spell to appear, but nothing happened.
“See? It doesn’t matter if you say it out loud like a normal sentence. There’s no intent to cast the spell. If you want something to come out of your hand, you have to put your mind into it.”
Petra’s shoulders untensed slightly. From what Lysithea had said, spell memorization was only one piece of the puzzle. But she was glad to hear that she would get a chance to say the words out loud, and that it was only a Fódlan superstition that saying the words would always cast the spell.
“When we get to casting, I’ll show you the proper stance. But for now, we can talk about focusing spells.” She turned to a page in the book that was dog-eared on both edges. “Focus is something that comes from your mind. You have to block everything out of your mind and once you’re in the proper stance, you can cast.”
“Focus and stance. I have understanding.”
She knew all about blocking everything out of her mind and being in the proper position. Knowing those were also important elements of fighting with magic made her feel just a little more confident that she really could learn magic.
Lysithea turned forward a few pages to another dog-eared page, and pointed to an illustration of a robed mage extending a hand forward, glittering white magic arising. “And on the topic of stance, this is one of the lines from the Compendium that’s always stuck with me. ‘Think of yourself as the weapon.’ When I get ready to cast a spell, it’s kind of like the tension when you’re pulling a bowstring. I put all of my focus in it, I feel tension build inside me, and when I release the spell it snaps.”
Her brow knitted in concern. “Does that explanation make sense?”
Petra nodded vigorously. “That is making much more sense than what our professor said. You are… you are putting it in a way that I can understand it. I was thinking that maybe I would never learn Fódlan magic, that I should be focusing on the way of fighting I know best. But now I am having more confidence because you are showing me the techniques that are helping you have success in casting magic.”
Lysithea’s expression went blank. Her pale cheeks flushed slightly, and Petra’s stomach did a backflip. Mashing her lips together, Lysithea averted her eyes. Petra wrung her hands in her lap.
Lysithea stuttered before she blurted, “I’m glad!”
Petra startled. “Lysithea?”
“To tell the truth, I was a little worried my methods were nonsense. After all, not all of it is from the Compendium. Not all of it is what the professors would teach at the School of Sorcery. So it did make me sort of wonder if people looked at me and thought I really was just gifted. But to hear someone say my methods could work for them really makes me happy.
“And…” She hesitated, her pink blush deepening, making warmth mottle Petra’s face. “I’m glad you feel like you understand better. You’ll still have to put in a lot of work yourself—memorizing spells, honing your focus, getting the proper stance, and not draining too much of your stamina—to be a truly skilled mage.”
She met Petra’s eyes again. Petra’s heart was thumping in her throat. Her hands were clammy from wringing them.
“If I must work with hardness, then all I can do to be showing my gratitude is to teach you what I know.”
“I look forward to it,” Lysithea said, looking up with a smile as her blush lightened.
—
Lysithea’s nerves over wielding a weapon again were allayed not only by the fact that this was supposed to be a theory session, but that she was learning from Petra. Petra had taken her methods seriously, her warm brown eyes shining with enthusiasm. Lysithea couldn’t help but feel encouraged by that. Not only had Petra been kind and attentive, she was no-nonsense, too. She got down to business and didn’t waste any time. Though there was no way she had the same reasons for doing so, it comforted Lysithea to know that another student took everything as seriously as she did.
She rushed to their appointed spot. Petra had chosen the training grounds, and she’d suggested they go there after dinner when it would be relatively empty, particularly on a weekday when all the students who spent the afternoon swinging weapons went back to their quarters and buried their heads in books. Around this time, she’d usually be heading to the library. But it would do her good to be on her feet and get some fresh air. Though she’d hated when doctors had always recommended that, like being outside would make her Crests disappear.
Lysithea burst in the double doors. Petra sat with her legs folded underneath her, changed out of her uniform shirt into loose shirtsleeves. There was a spear in her lap, and she was filing the point with a metal tool. She looked up and her eyes lit up, making Lysithea’s already rapid heartbeat skip.
“Oh, Lysithea, you are looking exhausted. Were you running here from the dining hall? You must catch your breath before you are speaking.”
Lysithea breathed in and out. Her chest felt tight, her head light. She couldn’t faint in front of Petra. If she did, then Petra might not want to teach her how to hunt.
She sat down next to Petra when her breathing had begun to even out.
“Are you needing water?” Petra unscrewed the lid on her canteen, pouring a little water in the lid and offering it to Lysithea. “Here.”
Lysithea drank, then handed it back to Petra. “Thank you.”
“You are welcomed.”
“What’s the spear you’re working on?”
“Oh!” She lifted the spear, holding it with both hands. In the light from the sunset, Lysithea could see the pronged blade and the intricate, thin carvings decorating its handle. “It is a harpoon. In Brigid, we are using this to hunt fish. But this one…” She lowered her head, smiling bashfully. “I am gifting this one to you, Lysithea. For being such a good friend and teaching for—teacher of me.”
Lysithea’s jaw dropped. “But you worked so hard on it. All the little details in the carvings, and this blade… I can’t possibly accept a handmade weapon of this quality.”
“You must be accepting it. It is a token of my affection for you. As a close friend of mine.”
“Thank you so much.” Lysithea’s heart felt full, her head spinning not with exhaustion but disbelief. A token of affection. Blood was pumping in her ears, rushing to her face. “It’s so beautiful I almost don’t want to use it.”
“Do not have worries. When I show you my own harpoon that I was bringing… brought along when I had arrived from Brigid, you will have understanding that these carvings give good luck on the hunt. They are representing an offering to the Water Spirit.”
“Is your bow carved as well?” Lysithea couldn’t help but look down at her own bow sitting in her lap, which she was sure would look plain in comparison. She reached over her shoulder to the quiver and pulled out an arrow.
Petra picked up her bow, which was wider and thinner than Lysithea’s. “There are no carvings in the bow. Only in our harpoons and spears.
“Are you wanting to start with the bow and arrow? That is for hunting on land. We can also be learning about hunting fish in the sea.”
“Let’s start with the bow and arrow. I already have some experience with that.”
“Then be showing me your stance for firing an arrow.”
Lysithea picked up her bow and arrow and got to her feet. On the other side of the training grounds sat a target board that the students and faculty who were archers must have used that day. She positioned the bow next to her face, then drew the arrow back. Her arrow flew diagonally, hitting the edge of the board.
“It’s been a while for me,” she admitted, feeling shame heat her face.
“Have no worry.” Petra got to her feet, walking over to Lysithea. “I am seeing a few issues with your posture. When you are not having the right posture, that is preventing you from firing your arrow to the right place. Here, direct your eyes toward me.”
Lysithea turned her head to her left. Petra lifted her bow, placing her left hand on the bowstring and bending her elbow until the back of her hand brushed her cheek, and gripping the bow with her right hand. She stood tall and straight, feet slightly apart. Lysithea mirrored her position and was prepared to face front and shoot another arrow.
“Wait,” Petra said.
She hung her bow over her shoulder and walked over to Lysithea. She wrested Lysithea’s anchor hand away from her face, then pushed her tilted elbow down. Lysithea’s heart seemed to stop as her breath caught in her throat.
“You must be keeping this in line with the ground, and your hand must not be smashed into the side of your cheek, only lightly resting there. Now try firing again.”
Lysithea pulled back and fired. The arrow missed the board.
“Keep your elbow more in line with the ground,” Petra said. “Part your feet a little more. You are standing with your feet too close. You must be standing solid like a tree or a stone.”
Lysithea breathed in. She gathered the same focus she used when casting a spell. Then she drew the bow and fired.
“You are getting closer!” Petra cried. “You are already showing improvement. Your posture is becoming better.”
“Thank you. What can I do better next time?”
“You must be having more confidence. Your arms are not staying steady when you are firing your bow. If your arms do not stay steady, you may fire too early or too late. You must be learning to fire when it is the exact time.”
“How do I keep myself steady?”
“You must be practicing on regular occasions and building up strength in your arms to be wielding the bow. The harpoon can also be helping you with this. It will help you get used to holding a weapon instead of casting magic.”
Lysithea could already feel her arms turning to jelly just from having held the bow up for a few minutes. “Can we move on to the harpoon?”
“Do you need to be taking a break?”
“No!” Lysithea snapped.
“All right. We can be starting with the harpoon.”
Petra set her and Lysithea’s bows and quivers off to the side, then brought Lysithea the gift harpoon, and showed off her own.
“The harpoon is just like the lance.” Petra twirled it around before clutching the handle at two different points. “Only it is having an extra point to be spearing the fish’s lips, like a fishing hook.”
Lysithea mirrored Petra’s pose, making sure her feet were apart this time.
Petra nodded. “Good. Now, you must be making a motion of stabbing, and then a motion of scooping.” She demonstrated each technique. “With a harpoon, you are wanting to catch the fish that are nearest to the coast. You may also be swimming while using the harpoon, or using it while you are standing in a boat. So you must be keeping your balance while doing these motions.”
Lysithea lunged forward, imitating the stabbing motion that Petra had demonstrated. Then she tried a scoop. She tried to stand up straight, but her head suddenly felt light, and she hit the ground with a thump.
“…sithea! Lysithea!”
Lysithea forced her foggy eyes open. She was flat on her back, Petra looming over her, eyebrows raised in concern.
“Are you all right?!”
Lysithea blinked a few times, groaning.
“Lysithea, should I be taking you to Professor Manuela?”
“No!” Lysithea nearly shouted, making Petra flinch and draw her head back slightly with a frown. “I don’t need her to worry about me, and besides, what if she makes me stay overnight? Everyone in my class is going to know I had to stay in the infirmary, and it’s going to spread around the monastery.” She paused to swallow a cough. “Nobody needs to think of me as some frail infant who can’t even lift a weapon!”
“Lysithea…” Petra shook her head, tucking a stray hair behind Lysithea’s ear, making her breath catch in her throat. “Perhaps I am not understanding your whole meaning, but I am not thinking of you as a baby.”
Lysithea’s heart soared. “That means a lot to me. Thank you.”
“But how old are you being?”
“Fifteen. And this whole thing has nothing to do with how old I am.”
“I am also having fifteen years!” Petra’s enthusiasm quickly faded. “But I am having much difficulty. I am going through much more than I should for my age.”
She helped Lysithea get to her feet, walking her over to the columns and sitting her down so she leaned against one of them. Pouring water into the lid of the canteen, she handed it to Lysithea and sat down across from her.
“Do you know what is happening to my country after the Brigid and Dagda War? Our country is becoming a vassal of the Empire. This is unfortunate for Brigid because it is no longer having independence. My father had been killed in the war, so I am being sent to Garreg Mach Monastery as a peace offering.
Petra frowned. “I am the Princess of Brigid, so I am supposed to be a ‘peace offering.’ That is what they say, but I am feeling like a prisoner. I am never asking to be sent to a school with so many Fódlan nobles where I am having trouble speaking their language and learning their strange ways of thinking and fighting. I am trying to make the best of it, to put as much time into learning as I can. I know I must be doing this for the future of my country. But I long for someone I can feel safety around. And this has been very hard to find because my classmates are all children of Empire nobles.”
Laying her hands in her lap, Lysithea clenched them into fists. Petra was a princess, but now she was a hostage, a prisoner. She wanted to tell Petra, tell her all about how the Empire had hurt her and her family, destroyed her chance at living past twenty. But she couldn’t open the cage of her heart. She didn’t want to lift her sleeves and show her the deep scars from the restraints, or loose the chains that protected her fragile heart from the cruelties of the world.
“I could never understand how it feels to be the hope of your country. But I understand how it feels to be the hope of your family. I’m all my parents have. They have high expectations, and I only have so much time to meet them. So I have to make the most of the time I have. It’s…” She sighed. “It’s not that I’m a prodigy or that I’m trying to impress the older students. I have a reason to work hard.
She lowered her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t compare my burdens to yours. Really, it’s nothing like what you have to face.” Even if we’re both in our respective situations because of the Empire.
“You do not need to be apologizing. We are both the same age, but we are most alike because we are only children. This is making our lives difficult. Our fates have already been decided, and we are not given a choice.”
Lysithea couldn’t bring herself to correct her, to tell her about all her dead siblings. How could she?
Instead, she thanked Petra, for telling her about something so personal and giving her the wonderful gift of the harpoon. She would treasure it, and practice to prepare to catch fish.
—
Petra had been repeating spells under her breath all week. She’d begun memorizing the spells, with the help of Lysithea’s rune chart and the memorization method she’d suggested. She’d gone off campus and practiced casting. But the problem was focusing. She found it hard to focus lately, even when she went hunting. Now that she’d confessed to Lysithea, someone outside her house, about what the Empire had done to her, her family, and her country, she felt more uncomfortable than ever around the members of her house.
It wasn’t everyone, of course. Dorothea was blameless; she had no power in the Empire’s political game. But the rest were tied to the nobility somehow. Even if they were kind to her, one day they would replace their parents. One day, she might have to face them as enemies. Knowing that Caspar’s father had killed her father only cemented that it might happen one day, no matter how much she hated even thinking of it as a possibility.
She kept thinking about what she had said to Lysithea about looking for a safe place. She had done a lot of thinking about Lysithea, more than she cared to admit. The blunt edge of her high voice, her pink eyes shining with spirit and enthusiasm, her soft white hair, and her intelligence and kindness. Even if she was sharp and rude sometimes, she had never been mean to Petra on purpose. Not to mention Lysithea understood her plight, being a young teenager who felt she was trapped. Lysithea also felt like she had to work harder, not only because she was younger but because she felt crushed under the weight of her family’s expectations. Maybe Lysithea could give Petra the safety she needed to feel.
Maybe Lysithea needed someone who made her feel safe, too.
Petra showed up at the training grounds at their planned time, early in the morning on Sunday to cut church again. Having offered a quick prayer to the Spirits the night before, especially the Wind Spirit, Petra hoped the power of the Spirits would aid her in finally casting a spell successfully.
Lysithea stood in one of the corners of the training grounds, holding a spellbook that resembled Petra’s in both hands. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Petra said. She set down her satchel and pulled her spellbook out. “I have memorized many spells. But I think I am still needing your help.”
“Show me your stance.”
Petra stood with her feet slightly apart, then extended her hand like the mage in the book had done. She folded her hand in toward her chest, bending her elbow, then extended it outward.
“Palm inward, not upward,” Lysithea said. “You’re not serving dinner. Inward to the left.”
Petra repeated the casting motion.
“Thumb and little finger stationary. The spell will travel off your three inner fingers. But don’t put them on top of each other. Like this.” She held her hand palm out with all the fingers together, then turned it so it was perpendicular to the ground. As she splayed her fingers apart, her three middle fingers turned outward, and her thumb and pinky turned inward.
Petra copied the pose, then redid the casting motion.
“Not quite,” Lysithea said. “You need a little more motion behind it. You’re kind of stiff, and you’re putting too much force behind it. Less force, more motion. Stand back, will you?”
Stepping aside, Petra watched as Lysithea recited an incantation, then unfolded her arm. Dark squares burst forth from her hand in a purplish mist, distorting the air around them.
“This is having magnificence!” exclaimed Petra.
“That was dark magic. Something you probably won’t be able to cast.”
“Hubert is also casting this magic. How are both you and Hubert having this ability?”
Lysithea frowned. “I’m not sure why Hubert would be able to. But anyway, that doesn’t matter. Go on, give it another try.”
Petra nodded. She recited a Wind spell, then extended her arm just as Lysithea had done. Only a weak burst of green light came forth.
She furrowed her brow. “My apologies. I practiced before our meeting. I am not knowing why it is taking me so long to have success.”
“You don’t have a Crest, so it’s going to be a little harder for you.”
Lysithea had said it in a tone that sounded like she didn’t really want to say it. Besides, was that really true? In Brigid, magic was cast with ease, especially fire and wind magic, without any Crest. Dorothea and Hubert did not have Crests, and they were greatly skilled in magic.
“Sorry. That wasn’t what I wanted to say,” she began.
“No. You have no reason to be apologizing. It is not a problem with my stance or with memorizing the spell. The problem is that I must be casting my magic the Brigid way. The spell is stopping my focus. I must not be saying it.”
“Right. You wanted to see if there was a way to cast without a spell.” She lowered her head, a blush rising to her cheeks. “I… I tried doing it myself. But the routine of reciting the spell keeps me focused. Plus, I don’t really know how to call on the spirits, because I’m not from Brigid.”
Petra’s heart pounded in her throat. “You have been trying to cast magic without saying a spell?”
“I wanted to try. To see if I could give you any tips before you tried doing it. But it seems I just can’t do it.
She scowled. “This is what’s preventing me from mastering Faith magic. I just need a spell. It’s like my safety blanket or something. But if I learn to cast Reason magic without using a spell, then maybe I can get better at Faith magic.”
“How long has it been a struggle?”
“Elemental magic comes so easy to me. And so does dark magic. But anything that requires inner light, I just can’t get beyond calling up Nosferatu. I feel like I’m stuck.” She was trying and failing to hide her very evident frustration. “I shouldn’t be complaining about my personal issues while I’m trying to teach you. You won’t learn anything that way.”
“Maybe you can be trying with me? We can be trying the same spell. I will call on the Spirits to help both of us.”
Lysithea raised her eyebrows. “Do you really think the Spirits would help me?”
Petra nodded firmly. “If you believe in the Wind Spirit, it will grant you its aid and its protection. Just like all the other Spirits. Are you having readiness?”
“Yes. I’m ready to give it another try.” There was that confidence Petra knew.
“Turn forward. Close your eyes. Be thinking of the wind. Be thinking of a day with breeziness. Let the breeze intensify in your mind until that wind is becoming a storm.”
Once Lysithea had followed her instructions, Petra turned forward and closed her eyes. She thought of a gentle sea breeze and let the breeze pick up in her mind until it began to rustle the leaves on the trees, until the trees themselves were swaying, until her braid was blowing behind her.
Please, Wind Spirit, grant me the strength and power of the wind!
Power coursed through her veins as she opened her eyes, and a green gust of wind sparkled in front of her, dissolving into the air in a cloud of glitter.
Lysithea gasped. “Petra, that was perfect!”
She turned her head toward Lysithea, who had extended her hand, but there was no trace of green in the air around her. Her surprised expression turned to disappointment as Petra faced her.
“Sorry. I can’t do it.” She sighed.
“Think with great intensity. I am believing that you can be casting a spell. You must believe that you can be doing it, too!”
Lysithea hesitated, then a determined look began to surface on her face. “No, you’re right! I can!”
She closed her eyes, turning forward again and clasping her spell hand to her chest. Petra watched and waited and was shocked when what erupted from Lysithea’s extended hand was not a Wind spell, but a blinding explosion of shimmering golden-white light.
“I did it!” Lysithea cried, a wide smile on her face. “I finally cast Seraphim!”
“That was having incredibleness!” Petra exclaimed. “We are having great success today!”
“You were right, Petra. Thinking hard, or focusing, just wasn’t enough. I needed that extra little belief. Belief in myself. Maybe that’s the real reason why it’s called Faith magic.”
“Yes, it is important to be believing in our own ability, even when it is being difficult to have confidence.”
Petra frowned. “I must be admitting to you… Sometimes I am having trouble believing in myself, too. But when I see how much eagerness you are having, I know that I must believe in myself. It is not that we are having rivalry. It is that you are giving me your support without holding it back.”
Lysithea’s eyes shimmered. “Yes, I feel that way, too. I guess I was having a bad day yesterday. I could hardly even focus, let alone believe that I could do it. But…” She paused, lowering her head. “You always lift me up. Make me feel so much better about being so enthusiastic about learning. You never talk down to me or make me feel like I’m too smart for my age. I really feel like you’re my equal.”
Petra hesitated. In status, she absolutely was not Lysithea’s equal. Paradoxically, she was both a princess—higher—and a prisoner and a citizen of Brigid—far, far lower. But Lysithea didn’t care about status. She hadn’t meant it that way at all.
“I am feeling the same way,” she said. “You are always giving me much respect even when my beliefs are different from yours. Students are looking dirty at me when I do not go to church with the others. Students are looking dirty at me just for walking around and sitting in the dining hall.”
Lysithea scowled. “How can they be so judgmental? They don’t know you at all. They have no right to do that when they don’t know what you’ve been through.”
Petra nodded. “I am knowing they are having no reason to be thinking this, and also that no matter what they are thinking of me, I must be trying my best and believing that I can do it. But sometimes it is too overwhelming. I am wishing I can go back home.”
Her momentary anger faded. “I wish that, too. Even if I really wanted to come here. I thought I was going to learn from the best. But the most annoying part is my classmates. They just don’t understand. They don’t get what it’s like. Not the way you do.” She lifted her head, gazing deep into Petra’s eyes. “Petra, I… I feel safe with you.”
Petra’s heart caught in her throat. She could feel a wide smile forming on her lips, heat rising to her cheeks. “That is a wonderful thing to be hearing from you.”
Suddenly struck by an odd impulse, she seized Lysithea’s hand and clasped it in both of hers. “Lysithea, I want to keep believing in you until we are apart. I want you to keep believing in me. Will you be believing in me?”
Even when she returned to Brigid. Even when she fought the Empire.
“Of course,” Lysithea said. “I will.”
Thank you, Wind Spirit.
—
Rabbits were more active at dawn and dusk, so Lysithea chose dusk when she’d be more willing to eat a second dinner. Meat for breakfast didn’t sound so great. She’d been preparing all week in between practicing her spells. Though she hadn’t figured out how to cast an elemental without the aid of a spell, she felt she was getting closer, mostly because she had now progressed to the advanced Reason spellbook and she was making her way quickly through the intermediate Faith spellbook. Her small fingers were callusing from working with the bow and arrow, but she’d started hitting the target more consistently, even getting closer to the bullseye. And after her conversation with Petra, knowing both that Petra believed in her and that she had to believe in herself, she felt that much more confident in her abilities. If Petra could be both a mage and a hunter, then so could she.
Petra was waiting at the gate of Garreg Mach, quiver strapped to her back and bow in hand. She wore leather fatigues; Lysithea assumed she’d sewn them herself. Lysithea had changed into pants. If she had the option to wear pants instead of the skirt for her uniform, she’d honestly prefer it.
“Are you having preparedness?” Petra asked. “I am forgetting to say last time that you must be getting in the right set of mind.”
“Yes, I’m ready.”
Really, she felt kind of jittery, but she didn’t want to say anything about it. She needed to believe she could catch her prey.
Petra set off on the trail into the mountains. “We must be moving with quietness and keeping a far distance from our prey. The rabbits are in the field. We must be seeking cover in the trees.”
The path from Garreg Mach became lightly forested as they ascended the hill. Petra led them to a stand of birches, stooping to the ground.
“Remain in patience and silence,” Petra whispered.
Lysithea knelt down on one knee, keeping the other foot flat on the ground. She grasped her bow in one hand.
“Scan the area.”
Lysithea looked out at the field spread before the birches. It was mid-autumn; the grass was still dewy, and a pale blue fog lingered in the air. Birds were just beginning to chirp. The air was completely still, with no trace of wind, but a damp chill still permeated her clothes, goosebumps rising on her arms.
Slowly, rabbits arrived in the field from the woods. On the edge of the thicker woodland, a doe fed on the grass.
“Where are you aiming?” Petra whispered, her warm breath tickling Lysithea’s ear.
There was a large, plump adult rabbit in the middle of the field. The other rabbits were dispersing, which would give her a chance to strike that one without hitting a different target. Lysithea lifted her bow, positioning her anchor, leveling her elbow with the ground.
“You have my acknowledgment. Fire when you have readiness.”
Lysithea squinted her left eye, then drew the bow back and let the arrow fly. As it hit, there was a loud squeal of agony that sent a shudder down her spine, followed closely by another squeal as Petra hit her own target.
“Your concentration is unable to be believed!” Petra breathed, getting up from her stooped position as the rabbits scattered.
Blood pounded in Lysithea’s ears. Steadying herself against a nearby birch, she got to her feet and followed Petra to pick up her quarry.
“First, you must be removing the arrow.” Petra picked up her rabbit with one hand and yanked the arrow free with the other, causing a little drop of blood to trickle from the wound. “You must be using a powerful force to remove it, because we are not wanting the arrowhead to be stuck.”
Lysithea lifted her rabbit. It was still warm, though it felt limp, boneless. She pulled just as Petra had done, removing the bloody arrowhead from the body.
“Are you wanting to do it here? I am thinking we will have a clean and flat workspace in the monastery kitchen, and working there may be easier. I have told them before that I may be in the kitchen cleaning animals that I am getting from the hunt.”
“No.” She was afraid she’d change her mind on the way back to the monastery.
“Before we are cleaning the rabbit to be cooked, we must be making a fire.” Petra set down her rabbit and walked over to the forest. The doe spooked and ran away as she disappeared into the trees. She returned quickly with an armful of brush. With her arms exposed from the sleeveless shirt she wore—covered by a leather vest—it was evident just how lean and muscular she was.
She set down the brush. Lysithea backed up as Petra closed her eyes in concentration, then extended her spell hand. Flames erupted from her hand, lighting the brush up in red and orange.
“You learned how to cast Fire,” Lysithea marveled.
“I wanted to be giving you a surprise,” Petra said, bowing her head bashfully. “Here.” She reached inside her satchel for a small linen tarp, unfolding it to a larger size. “This is being the same fabric as a tent. It will help protect our rabbits from dirt before we are cooking them.”
Lysithea lay the dead rabbit down on the tarp. Petra handed her a sharp dagger.
“First, make a very tiny cut. Then,” she reached under the hide with a few fingers and spread it open, “this is all you need to be removing the hide.”
Lysithea cut open the hide, then tore it open just as Petra had, toward both ends of the animal until almost all of it was exposed.
“Now, you must work the legs free from the hide. Be pulling all four legs out with force.”
Lysithea followed her instruction.
“Pull the hide off at both ends, until the head and the bottom are able to be seen.”
She swallowed. Now it looked decidedly less like a furry animal and more like a piece of meat.
“Now what happens that I removed the hide?”
“The head, tail, and feet must be coming off. First, the feet.”
Snap! Snap!
Lysithea’s stomach lurched. “Did you just break its feet off?”
Petra continued, completely unfazed. Snap. Snap.
Lysithea shivered. It would be quicker just to get it over with. She snapped all four feet free, then watched Petra to see how she removed the head and tail.
“Next is a very difficult part. You must make a very exact incision, because you are not wanting to cut into the rabbit’s intestines.”
Petra turned the carcass onto its back and sliced the skin open, gently and slowly. “Just like this.”
Lysithea slowly sliced just under the surface of the rabbit’s skin, exposing everything inside. Blood left red prints on her fingers. Her forehead felt hot.
“Right here, use two fingers. Reach down toward the back of the rabbit and push out all of its insides.”
Reaching into its chest cavity, Lysithea pushed her hands into the rabbit, reaching under its heart and lungs. She had begun to push the organs out just as Petra had, when dizziness suddenly struck her. She removed her fingers, gasping breathlessly as she fell back onto the grass.
“Lysithea? Is everything being all right?”
Lysithea’s mind felt blank. There was a smear of blood on her white hair. They had strapped her to a table when she couldn’t even think, with her limbs splayed apart like a helpless dead rabbit.
“Are you not liking the sight of the blood? Or maybe it was the smell? It is taking me a while to be getting used to this. I am also feeling nausea when I was first going out and hunting.”
“It’s not that,” she managed, though she had grown short of breath. “I know it’s nothing like that was, but…” She stopped to catch her breath. “It makes me feel like I’m no different from them and what they did to me…”
“Huh?” Petra squinted. “Can you be explaining?”
Lysithea’s stomach dropped. “Forget it. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“If you are wanting to be telling me, then I will be listening.”
“But surely you don’t want our rabbits to spoil?”
Petra shook her head. “I am caring more about you than about the meat.”
Lysithea’s heart fluttered. There was no reason to hold it back. Petra had already told her all about why she felt so lost and trapped. Petra always believed in her, and most of all, Petra had become her safe place. It was not only that she felt compelled to tell her. She had to tell her.
“When I was very young, only two years old, I wasn’t an only child. I had four siblings, and I was the fifth. I’m from House Ordelia. There was another noble house near ours, House Hrym, that rebelled against the Empire, and House Ordelia provided aid to them. House Hrym attempted to defect to the Alliance, but the rebellion was quickly quashed. Strange people, mystical mages, from the Empire came and destroyed House Hrym.
“Then the strange mages kidnapped me and my siblings. Though I was too young then to remember it now, my parents watched my siblings die from the experiments they performed on us. I was the only child who survived, and even as young as I was, my hair turned white. Because of those experiments, I now bear two Crests. Because of that, my life has been greatly shortened. And that’s why I don’t have much time.”
“This is horrific…” Petra’s eyes widened. “Is it a possibility that the strange people also had done experiments on Edelgard?”
“I’ve suspected that for a while, but I haven’t had any reason to approach her.” She lowered her head. “The Alliance did nothing while my family suffered, yet the Empire could never be a hospitable home for the lone child of House Ordelia.”
“I am also finding it hard to be with the children of the Empire nobles. However, sometimes I am feeling that is the only way to make those nobles’ children understand that both I and Brigid are deserving of independence. I am only having so much time to make them understand that…”
Lysithea blinked, feeling her eyes burn with tears. “There’s never enough time…” She slammed her fists against her lap. “We’ll never have enough time!”
Sobbing, she collapsed into Petra’s shoulder, and felt warm arms around her.
“It’s not fair! It’s not fair!” she shouted, the leather of Petra’s vest stained dark by her tears, muffling her voice.
Petra rubbed her back, leaning her head down so it was pressed to Lysithea’s. “It is unfair. But I will always be with you. Believing in you.”
“Then why don’t you join my class? So you can always be with me?”
Petra lifted her head just as Lysithea did. “I was going to be asking the same of you. I want to remain with you and protect you. Will you be coming with me, Lysithea?”