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The imperial base camp was quiet at this hour, long before dawn, with only the night watchmen on patrol. The training grounds were still, the mess hall empty, and the only sound from the stables was the occasional neigh from the horses and pegasi. Edelgard drew in a deep breath of the cool night air and tried to engrave in her memory the fleeting stillness of it all. Soon it would be shattered by the rolling tides of war. A war she herself had planned and would now wage with all of her strength for the sake of Fódlan’s future.
She was committed to this. She had been since she’d gained the Crest of Flames. Why was it then that now, on the very cusp of everything she had planned for, it felt as if something were missing?
A prickle of unease shivered down her spine as she passed the empty command centre. Perhaps it had been that morning’s conversation with Shez that had prompted all of this.
“I’ve heard rumours that the Church has been throwing gold at mercenaries by the handful to bolster their defences,” Shez had said with her usual zest.
Edelgard nodded. “That’s to be expected since we managed to draw off their main force, though we can’t rule out assistance coming from the Kingdom. Faerghus has always been steadfast in its support of the Church. That’s why we must strike quickly.”
Shez waved off the comment with a shrug. “Yeah of course. But I’m really hoping I’ll get lucky and the Ashen Demon will be there.” And then, punching a fist into her open palm, “I’m ready for that rematch. I’m way stronger than I was two years ago.”
Edelgard pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m not certain I would call it ‘lucky’. The Ashen Demon is, by all accounts, a formidable foe and we will have quite enough of those with Rhea and Seteth and the remaining knights. It would be preferable if we could hire her ourselves.”
Shez grumbled something that might have been “spoil sport” but she covered it with a cough and Edelgard let it slide and busied herself with sorting through a pile of reports on foodstuffs and arms.
“You know it’s funny,” Shez said, her brow furrowed, “but when I think about it, she reminds me a bit of Jeritza.”
Edelgard didn’t look up from the list of army staples being shipped in from the south of Adrestia. Minister Hevring had done an excellent job of building up provisions over the past two years. The imperial army would not lack for bread or hay. “How so?”
“The same sort of flat tone when she spoke. And that sort of feeling of… You know when you talk to Jeritza and you feel like he’s only half there?”
Edelgard went stiff, eyes fixed on the report so as not to betray herself—or Jeritza. He was only half there, after a fashion. The person who remained, the one Shez knew from the academy and around camp, was a shell of a human being. Inside the shell was rage and violence and death. She had found him, given him purpose and direction for his violent madness and it had been enough to anchor what was left of his humanity. If the Ashen Demon was like that, someone so damaged that she remained only a husk of a human being, then she would be a dangerous opponent indeed.
She hummed thoughtfully as she rearranged the reports without really looking at them. “While I do wish you luck in any possible rematches, Shez, for the sake of the entire army I hope we don’t encounter the Ashen Demon at Garreg Mach.”
But now as Edelgard trod the camp’s worn cobblestones, she found the conversation lingering in her thoughts and it was not easily dismissed. Was the Ashen Demon yet another victim of the nobility’s obsession with crests? Like Jeritza? Like herself?
Nodding absently to a sentry who’d paused to bow, she tried to shake herself out of this sudden funk. She could not undo the suffering that had already been perpetuated in the name of the crest system, but she would change things, create a better future where none would suffer for their crest—or lack of one—any longer. I must remain focussed on my goals.
Yet no matter how often she told herself this, how resolute she was in her course of action, she could not shake the feeling of… wrongness… that had hounded her since she’d woken from yet another fitful sleep.
Perhaps it was simple nerves. After all, things had gone so smoothly these past two years, better than she could have hoped for when she’d first arrived at the Officers Academy, still under the thumb of Lord Arundel and his minions, still enslaved to the persona of the Flame Emperor. But she had not had to go through with that farce and surely they’d achieved the best possible outcome: they had rescued Monica and in doing so had unmasked those who slither in the dark and wrested Enbarr from their control. Though they had failed to capture Thales, they had at least ousted him and replaced his cronies with a cadre of ministers and generals Edelgard could trust.
She’d also been fortunate enough to enlist Shez. Her transformation and its similarities to Thales’s kind was worrisome, but she truly believed Shez was unaware of the source of her powers. Perhaps she’d been an unwitting experiment as many others had been by Thales’s mages or Cornelia. One of the few regrets Edelgard had was that, given how short her time at the academy had been, she’d never had the chance to broach the subject with Lysithea von Ordelia. Edelgard had it on good authority that Lysithea had been the first successful (that was to say, surviving) test subject for the blood reconstruction surgery. And while that was certainly a regret, it did not account for the gnawing feeling of unease that made a return to bed impossible.
If it was indeed pre-battle nerves there was no one she could confide in. She was the emperor and must be the steel will of Adrestia, a bastion of resolve through the coming trials. Even Hubert couldn’t hear of this; he would worry if she seemed to waver. She had sometimes wished for someone who could provide counsel—a different perspective than his that she knew so well. A trusted confidante. A partner and an equal.
But she knew very well that it was folly to wish for such a thing.
Edelgard stopped in her tracks when she spotted a figure by one of the watch towers, not a soldier, but a tall man in a long coat. As she drew closer and the flicker of torchlight illuminated his features, she realized it was professor Hanneman. He was stroking his chin, apparently in deep thought, just as he had always been at the academy. “Professor,” she greeted him. “It’s late for a stroll, isn’t it?”
He started. “Oh, Your Majesty, good evening. It is late, but I’m afraid at my age sleep can sometimes become illusive. I find a brisk walk is often more productive than a good deal of tossing and turning.”
“I could not agree more. Would you like some company for your walk?”
The pause before his reply gave away his surprise. “I would be honoured, your Majesty.”
For some moments the only sound was their footfalls on the worn paving stones and it was clear to Edelgard that she would have to speak first. “I must admit, Professor, when you first accepted our invitation to join the imperial forces, I was surprised.”
He nodded. “Given that I relinquished my title and holdings within the empire and have been employed by the Church ever since, I can understand your surprise. But I assume Lord Vestra has looked into my past quite thoroughly by now.”
Edelgard was glad for the lack of light that disguised the colour coursing up her cheeks. “I apologise, Professor, but Hubert felt it was necessary given your longstanding tenure at Garreg Mach.”
“Quite understandable under the present circumstances.” He adjusted his monocle. “I assume you were informed about my sister, rest her soul.”
Something swooped above them and dove into a patch of long grass, likely an owl snatching up the mice that had converged on the camp, eager to burrow into the army’s grain stores. “Yes. She was married off to a low-ranking noble eager to improve his status. But when she failed to produce a crest-bearing heir she was abused and neglected, leading to her early demise. I am so very sorry, Professor.”
He kept his gaze straight ahead as they continued to stroll. If anyone had seen them they would never have thought their conversation was anything more than polite chatter. “It was not an isolated incident. I knew many noblemen who behaved much the same way. And I detested them all.” He shook his head and seemed for a moment to become almost another version of himself—younger, brasher, angrier—a shade of that younger man splashed across his face for the barest instant. And then it passed and he was merely the distracted, sedate older gentleman so well known at the Officers Academy. “If you’re concerned about my loyalties, Your Majesty, you can rest easy that I support your goal wholeheartedly. I believe we only differ in that I am less certain that the crest system can be so easily done away with.”
“I am open to your counsel on this matter, Professor.”
He huffed into his moustache. “I’m afraid all my research has failed to help matters now just as much as it failed to save my sister twenty years ago. But if I do learn anything that would be of use I will certainly share it.”
“Thank you, Professor Hanneman. That’s all I ask.”
They were within sight of the camp’s command center once again, the gold and crimson banners of Adrestia draped on either side of the entrance. Tomorrow they would finalize their plan of attack on Garreg Mach. Would the Ashen Demon be waiting for them? Or perhaps the Immaculate One if Rhea chose to reveal her monstrous true form. There was much Edelgard hadn’t told her allies about how strange and terrible their enemies truly were, that the forces that controlled the Church were every bit as inhuman as the peculiar magic of those who slithered in the dark.
Edelgard had no regrets about fighting the Immaculate One. She was prepared for that. She’d been created for that. But the thought of the Ashen Demon unsettled her yet again, the idea that she too could be a victim like Hanneman’s sister, like herself, and that they might still need to defeat her… That troubled her far more than Rhea did.
“Your Majesty?”
Hanneman’s voice jarred her from the thoughts that had left her standing and staring at the golden double-headed eagle. She too was of two faces, two selves, two crests. But how could it be otherwise?
“Professor, do you… ever think of how your life might have been had circumstances been different?"
He let out a long sigh as he too turned to stare up at the Adrestian eagle in all its majesty. “I must admit that even I occasionally question my choices. If my sister had lived I suppose I would have remained in the empire. I likely would have married and produced heirs. But once I saw for myself what it meant to come from a crest-bearing line I lost any desire to continue that lineage. My research is my legacy, one that I hope will do the world more good than the propagation of crest-bearing blood would.”
“But would you have been… happier?” She darted a glance at him, but in the dim light it was impossible to make out his expression with any certainty.
“Perhaps.” He shook his head. “Who’s to say? I made the only decision I believed I could at the time. If it meant that I missed out on another path, another course of life, well…” He shrugged and then turned to face her. “My dear, young emperor, we all have doubts that stalk us in the late hours of the night. No one can turn back the hours and know for certain what results a different choice would have yielded. We can never know what it is we might have missed by choosing the path we did.”
“We can only forge ahead on the path we’ve cut for ourselves. Yes.” She let out a long breath. “Thank you, Professor. I appreciate your candour and I believe I’ll try to get some rest now.”
“Goodnight then, Your Majesty.” He offered a bow and took his leave and Edelgard slowly made her way back to her quarters.
The feeling of unease had not left her. The formless sensation that something was wrong, something was missing, remained like a miasma she inhaled with every breath. But she would persist in spite of it. Whoever was waiting for them at Garreg Mach, whether it be Rhea, the Ashen Demon, or the goddess herself, Edelgard would face them and cut a path towards a better future.
The End