Chapter Text
His father’s blood was on their hands. They would answer for what they did.
Ashe crashed through the trees, panting heavily as he surveyed the forest. The white fog hung heavy in the air, wrapping tightly around the branches and coating everything in a thick white blanket.
He regretfully put down his bow and leaned it against a tree. The fog was so dense in the woods it rendered it all but useless. Ashe unsheathed his axe, reluctantly. Such a crude weapon. He turned it over in his hands, trying to get comfortable with the feel.
“I really should practice more with this,” Ashe chided himself.
He scanned the clearing looking for any indication of where the Bishop was hiding. The Church of Seiros had tasked the Professor with hunting down members of the Western Church, a rogue group who had branched off decades ago. Since then, they had conspired to assassinate Archbishop Rhea, the leader of the Church of Seiros . This was the same group that had manipulated Lonato, Ashe’s adoptive father, convincing him to raise an army against the Church. Lonato died in the ensuing battle.
Ashe had begged the Professor to let him come, to make the Western Church answer, one way or another. So here he was, hunting down the Bishop, their leader.
Everything was still. The silence dragged on.
Maybe he hadn’t run this way, Ashe thought.
Suddenly there was a rustle of branches and Ashe caught a flash of black and gold against the fog, the Bishop’s mask. Ashe took off at a sprint, doing his best to not let him escape again.
They ran for what felt like hours until suddenly Ashe burst through the trees into a wide field. At the far end there was a cliff that loomed over the lake below. The cool breeze coming off the lake pushed back the blanket of fog, letting Ashe see clearly. The Bishop was standing at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the water below. He hesitated, as if contemplating jumping before turning to face Ashe, white robes billowing in the breeze.
Voice calm, the Bishop addressed Ashe. “Well now boy, you have me cornered. I saw a glowing orange sword earlier, so you must be one of the fools that Thunderbrand brought with her. She never was one to take prisoners. So, you must be here to kill me.” The Bishop paused, taking in Ashe, when a sneer crossed his face. “Though I’m curious if you are up to the task. You can’t even hold that axe,” he taunted.
Ashe did his best to adjust his grip on his axe. Why were his hands so sweaty? He’d been in countless battles by now, though mostly against monsters. This was different. He could see the Bishop’s mask, hear his breath. If he chose to kill him, he’d remember this one.
Ashe hadn’t really considered killing him, he was so focused on getting his answers. This would be his best chance to extract revenge if he wanted it. To avenge Lonato. He could end it all right now. The Bishop deserved death. For everything he had done.
Ashe wrestled with it before deciding death was too good for this monster. “I want answers,” Ashe said, his voice betraying his rising fury. He wiped his hands, one at a time, on his blue tunic, just in case death needed to be an option again.
“What answers could you possibly want from me?”
“What did you do to him? To Lonato. You killed him! Lonato’s blood is on your hands,” Ashe growled.
“Were you Lord Lonato’s page or something? Indeed, he was a devout believer. All we did was provide Lord Lonato salvation.” The Bishop was calm and direct.
Anger rising, Ashe bit off his next words. “Salvation? You used him and threw him away. You took him from me! He was my only family left!”
“A necessary sacrifice in the war to free this world from the blight that is Archbishop Rhea. He willingly walked this path.” The Bishop’s tone was patronizing now.
“LIAR” Ashe howled as he stepped closer to the Bishop. “HE WAS A GOOD MAN. HE WAS A GOOD KNIGHT. HE’D NEVER DO THIS WILLINGLY”.
“Grow up boy. The Church has blinded you, made you believe yours is the moral cause. They are the ones who betrayed Lord Lonato. They are your true enemy.”
The Bishop started walking to his left, but Ashe turned, staying square to him the whole time. “Do you even know the truth of what happened to Christophe? Lonato’s son. Your adoptive brother if I understand you. Has Thunderbrand explained her role in all of this? The lies she has perpetrated in the Church’s name?”
Ashe slowed. Thunderbrand? That was the second time he used that title. It was the name of Catherine’s sword, so he likely was speaking about her. She was a well-known knight of Seiros, with an even more well-known sword. What was that about lies? Catherine had been spreading lies?
“I know Catherine turned in Christophe. It was for his role in the Tragedy of Duscur.”
“Typical. Of course, they would try to suppress this too. Always needing to appear in control. Have they ever mentioned the other plot to assassinate Archbishop Rhea?” The Bishop asked, voice heavy with condescension.
This stopped Ashe dead in his tracks. What did he mean by “other” plot? There were no other plots. The Church would have said something by now. What could he be talking about? The Bishop wasn’t making any sense. Lies? Plots? Deception? That wasn’t how the Church of Seiros operated. They represented everything that was good in the world.
Before Ashe could ask anything else, there was a flash of orange and a burst of blood as Catherine ran past Ashe and slammed Thunderbrand straight through the Bishop’s chest. Stunned, Ashe gaped at her. Where had she come from? The breeze from the lake had cleared the fog out, so his visibility was almost perfect. And. Wait. Why was the grass wet? Hadn’t it been dry earlier?
Ashe looked down to find his leather boots soaked. He was standing in a pool of dark, sticky liquid. Blood. He turned, horrified to see the dead bodies of two assassins behind him. Dressed in white robes, they were obviously members of the Western Church. The jagged slashes running through their torsos told him all he needed to know; Catherine had killed them. Her sword’s branch like protrusions made its wounds distinct.
Had Ashe really been that focused on the Bishop that he had completely blocked out the rest of the field?
“Get back to Lady Rhea. Now Ashe” Catherine ordered.
Blood still boiling, Ashe wheeled on Catherine. “How could you do that? He was responsible for Lonato’s death. I needed answers.”
“This is not about what you need. This is about doing your job. Your anger has gotten the better of you, Ashe. Look around you. The Bishop was stalling. You’d be dead if I had gotten here even a second later.” Catherine paused to wipe sweat and blood off her brow. “Now, go back and protect Lady Rhea while I clean up here.” Her voice was crisp, full of command. She expected to be obeyed.
As Ashe worked to get his breathing under control, his anger was soon replaced by shame. He had abandoned his troops, abandoned his responsibility. Abandoned Ingrid.
That last thought sent a shiver down his spine. Ingrid was going to be mad. Very mad.
When they had first arrived, Dimitri and the Professor had given orders. They split everyone into pairs, leaving Ashe and Ingrid to defend Lady Rhea. The Professor had scouted the area and found a large clearing with good visibility to serve as their base of operations. It allowed Ashe and Ingrid to set up a strong perimeter where they could play to their strengths. They were a formidable pair. With her pegasus, Ingrid was able to scout out enemies for Ashe and his archers before they got too close. It had become a comfortable rhythm for them. They were so in sync that they were able to anticipate each other’s movements now. It was only natural, after being paired together almost every day these past five months.
The battle had been going smoothly until Ashe had spotted the Bishop lurking just outside of his range, right at the edge of the fog. Rather than call for Ingrid, he took off after him on his own. This was the man who had led Lonato astray. Had killed Lonato. Ashe couldn’t let him escape. So, he ran into the fog. Alone. With the benefit of hindsight, it was an incredibly foolish decision. At the time though, it felt like the only course of action.
Ashe backtracked to retrieve his bow, grateful to see it was still where he had left it, unharmed. Bow in hand, he worked his way back towards Lady Rhea. Ashe continued to brood over what the Bishop had told him. Was the Church really hiding something? Was Catherine lying to him?
Something about Christophe’s death had never sat well with him. Christophe wasn’t like that, someone who could plan the massacre of the royal family. He was always kind to Ashe, even though Ashe was adopted. He was introspective and trusting, seeing the good in everyone. So why would he have been involved in planning such a violent event. Yet, it had been hard to argue with the Church, so everyone just nodded and went along with it. Accepting it as fact. There had never been a reason to doubt the Church before.
Before he could follow those thoughts any further, he spotted Ingrid heading his way. She had blonde hair, beautiful pale green eyes, and despite being only five foot five inches, she could intimidate anyone in the Blue Lions, Prince Dimitri included. Ashe could tell she was enraged as she started to storm towards him. He quickly debated the merits of slinking back into the woods to hide a little longer. That would only delay the inevitable though, and likely make her even angrier. Best to face the music now.
“What on earth were you thinking? Charging off like that on your own. You left me completely exposed. Whats worse, you left your troops alone too” Ingrid yelled.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry” Ashe said sheepishly.
“This is so unlike you!” Ingrid threw her hands up in exasperation. “What could have possibly possessed you to do something so foolish. Even Sylvain has more sense about him than to charge off into the fog. Alone. Leaving his partner behind. Alone.”
“I saw the Bishop and I just…” Ashe trailed off, the excuse sounding poor even to him.
“Oh…” Ingrid said, deflating. “I forgot. Your father was caught up in their schemes, wasn’t he? Did you catch him? Force him to explain himself?”
“No” Ashe lied. He wasn’t willing to drag her into this, not when he didn’t even know if there was anything to be dragged into.
She hesitated, looking more and more uncomfortable as the discussion drifted away from the battle. Rather than her normal confident posture, she seemed anxious. Her shoulders were slumped a bit and she was looking at the ground more than usual. “Ashe I… “she started, then cut herself off, cheeks glowing a light pink. Composing herself, she managed to get out, “Never mind. The Professor and Prince Dimitri have gotten back already. It looks like the battle is over and the Western Church routed. Let’s give our reports. I don’t intend to leave out your little escapade.”
“You go ahead, I think I need a little more time to cool off.” Ashe let out a deep sigh. Ingrid always was a stickler for rules.
“If you’re sure. I’m ummm always here if you need me.” Ingrid hesitated. She looked away from Ashe, shuffling her feet. “To watch your back. I mean. In the woods, of course. I don’t want us to lose such a talented archer.”
With that, she lingered a few more seconds before awkwardly reaching out to give his hand a squeeze. Then she turned and hurried back towards Lady Rhea and the others.
Ashe watched her leave, his spirits lifted, slightly. As he veered into the woods, he thought about their relationship. Ingrid didn’t make sense. She had such a rough exterior, giving commands with ease, rarely showing emotion. Yet she also had a soft side hidden beneath her stoic persona. It made rare appearances, but it seemed to be a little more frequent now after so many battles side by side. They had come to rely on each other heavily. At this point, she was probably his best friend.”
A crunch of twigs brought him back to the current moment. Thinking it was Ingrid, he joked, “so you decided to watch my back after all.”
“While I do have your best interest at heart, I doubt I am who you meant,” said a deep voice.
Ashe turned, staring straight into the soulless gaze of the Flame Emperor. The mysterious figure who had visited Professor multiple times, offering cryptic insights about doom to come.
Ashe fumbled for his axe, but his hands were shaking too much to get a proper grip. As it clattered to the ground, he took a hesitant step back, muscles tensed to dash at any moment.
“I am not here to hurt you, merely to show you what the Church has hidden from you. About Christophe. About your family.” the Flame Emperor stated, tone flat.
“Why should I trust you? The Professor doesn’t trust you so neither will I.” Ashe wanted to project confidence, but the words came out more squeak than roar.
“I’m not asking you to trust. I’m simply providing you information. What you do with it is up to you. The Bishop wasn’t lying earlier, the Church has been keeping secrets for quite some time now. You’ll find it all here in these papers”. With that the Flame Emperor casually extended his arm, a rolled bundle of papers in his outstretched hand.
Not trusting the situation, Ashe stooped to grab his axe, keeping his eyes on the Flame Emperor the whole time. Then, cautiously, he edged forward, axe held at the ready. This was likely a trap Ashe thought, but the temptation was too strong. For his part, the Flame Emperor didn’t flinch, didn’t move at all. He just stood there holding out the papers.
With the papers within reach, Ashe jumped out, taking one hand off of his axe, and snatching the papers cleanly. He quickly stepped back, out of striking distance of the Flame Emperor, heart pounding in his chest. He adjusted his grip on his axe, prepared to defend himself against an attack. Yet the Flame Emperor simply lowered his hand. Slowly. Deliberately. Risking a glance down, Ashe skimmed over the papers. He couldn’t get past the first page. The words didn’t make any sense. The timeline it showed was all wrong.
“I don’t understand, where did you get these?” Ashe asked but when he looked up the Flame Emperor was gone.
Realizing this was the second time tonight the enemy had been able to sneak up on him, Ashe headed back to join the others. As he walked, he tried to understand everything that had just happened. The Flame Emperor had watched him, heard his conversation with the Bishop. He had offered papers to support that conversation. Was there truth here? Was the Church truly hiding something?”
“Ashe…Ashe…ASHE”.
Jerked from his thoughts, he looked up to see Catherine and the Professor staring at him, Catherine angry while the Professor seemed more curious than anything.
“Where were you?” Catherine barked.
“Sorry, I was on my way back when I found these on one of the bodies. They are papers about my family, I think” Ashe lied. If he said the Flame Emperor had given them to him, they probably wouldn’t let him keep the papers.
“What happened? Catherine told me you were almost ambushed. You left your post,” Professor asked, her tone flat. She expected a sound justification for his decisions. It's not that she didn’t care, the Professor just didn’t show emotions like most people.
“I’m fine, thanks to Catherine. I’m sorry for running off like that.”
“You left Lady Rhea and Ingrid exposed. You’re better than this. You clearly need a refresher on tactics. Expect extra work this week when we get back to Garreg Mach.” It wasn’t a punishment per-se. The Professor felt he lacked knowledge, so she would force him to gain it.
Ashe turned and walked away, an unseen burden weighing down his shoulders. He had made Ingrid mad. And the Professor had assigned him extra work on top. This wasn’t what he pictured. He had come here for answers, but all he found were questions.