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A jagged black mountain pierced a blood red sky. A vast barren landscape surrounded the summit until the earth met the sky. Swirling winds and rains battered the rock, carving into it like so many knives. At the peak of the mountain sat a large opulent throne, unphazed by the chaos that surrounded it.
A child stood at the base, carrying a pack nearly as large as himself. As if suddenly realizing the weight of the burden he bore, he doubled over, gasping for air. Various weapons and supplies nearly crushed his body as the wind crushed his soul. Every howl carried with it a whisper, cruel voices he could not identify.
“You are a servant, a tool of the Empire.”
“Your weakness is a disgrace.”
“You’re holding her back.”
His vision was obscured by his long black hair, soaked and swept by the unrelenting storm. He tried to let out a cry- of pain or of anguish he did not know- but no noise came.
“You cannot cry… you cannot feel… you can only serve.”
Looking up the steep slope, he could see El… no, he could see Lady Edelgard. She was clearly struggling to climb, yet she would not allow herself to rest. Hubert tried to chase after her, to support her, to help her. But as he ran, the mountainside underfoot turned to loose, black pebbles. Slick with rain, they gave way as the panicked child scrambled upward. Losing his balance under the weight he bore; he fell face forward. He slid backwards, leaving a trail of bloodstained stones behind.
“You’ll never reach her.”
“She’ll leave you behind.”
“You can’t even stand. Pathetic.”
As he struggled to get up, he looked desperately for Lady Edelgard. No sooner had he found her- still moving ever upwards- did he noticed another figure, an impossibly tall silhouette. It stood in front of the throne, at the eye of the storm. A strange aura filled the air- empty, cold. In its hands the figure held a sword, ablaze with golden flame, which it now raised up over its head. The intention was clear- to smite Lady Edelgard, to destroy all that she hoped for, all that she climbed for. His liege, his life, his very source of meaning, all at risk. Yet she did not notice, but continued to climb to her doom. Perhaps she was too focused to see what lie ahead… perhaps she simply did not want to. Hubert tried to scream out, to warn her, but again… no sound came.
"Worthless."
Instead what came was crash of brilliant white light, and a deep roll of thunder that seemed to shake the whole accursed world. The lightning cast the whole of his vision into monochromatic chaos- the mountain, his enemy, and his liege all slowly fading into the blinding light. He saw only a burning hot white… then a searing red… fading into a cold black…
Then suddenly, the deep brown of a wooden ceiling. He sat up violently, his breath shallow. He was in his own bed, in his own body. No longer drenched in rain, but in sweat. His body ached with the dull throb of a wound long since healed. His mind reeled- his vision clouded for only a moment.
One deep breath…and then another...and then another. He did not know how long he sat there, steadying himself. His mind, of course, knew that it was simply another nightmare. His heart, however, was unwilling to simply let go. In the end, it was his mind that won out. Before he knew it, he was standing, moving over to the bowl of water by the foot of his bed. He splashed his face with the cool water- washing away the sweat that had built up over night. It was not enough to wash away the uncertainty he felt. He splashed himself again, gritting his teeth. He did all he could to put any feelings… and distracting emotions away… to push them down. He had to focus on why he was here… not only at Garreg Mach, but in this cruel world at all. He wrung out his hands and sighed. He had one purpose, and one alone.
“For Lady Edelgard.”