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“…In two days’ time you’ll be able to see the illustrious streaking light of Sothis’ comet dash across the night sky. Did you know that there is an ancient legend that goes with this? Quite peculiar –and fantastical, if you’re into dramatics. The story goes like this: at the pinnacle of the comet’s appearance, you can cast a ritual. Whoever your lover is on the fateful evening will be your soulmate forever. But uh,” Hanneman chuckled and adjusted his spectacles. “It is so very unscientific! Nothing like crests. Moving on to today’s assignment…”
Claude waved in and out of Hanneman’s lecture. This, now this piece of information piqued his interest. He usually isn’t invested in nonsensical fairytale legends but lately Claude’s mechanically sharp mind has been fixated on one specific person. That is, his girlfriend Lysithea von Ordelia. A person Claude treasures above all others, even himself.
Besides his visions of uniting Fodlon under one banner he’s been thinking about their destined future together. They are perfect for each other in every facet. It’s like the universe crafted them for the sole purpose of being each other’s lover.
She’s smart, he’s crafty.
She’s stubbornly single-minded, he’s an optimistic visionary.
She’s got blade-sharp quips; he’s got lighthearted humor and charisma.
The house leader doesn’t waste time taking notes. Everybody knows the gist. But Claude is curious about Sothis’ comet. How romantic is that, to be tethered to your lover’s soul for eternity?
He’d find out if this legend holds any water. But as the bell tolled, signaling class’ end, he darts out to find Lysithea.
Sweet-smelling scents of lavender and freesia guide Claude’s footsteps. As he gets closer he also identifies a hint of musty ink –Lysithea is almost always in the library. Another thing Claude loves her for. An endless quest for knowledge. She’d use it to defend the weak and help those in need while Claude…used his talents opportunistically. But hey, if it all worked out, even with casualties, everything would be a win-win. And Claude isn’t going to lose when it comes to anything important to him.
He passes by many classmates along the way. The courtyard is bustling with activity. And unfortunately for Claude, he sees something that sets his blood afire. Freezing mid-step, his whole body tenses, his fists clench, and his jaw does too. Green eyes narrow maliciously at Hubert and Ferdinand who are laughing with Lysithea.
Laughing. Hubert isn’t a jolly guy. It’d be scarier if he was with a stony face like his. That sadistic bastard doesn’t laugh unless it’s with cruel heartlessness. Hubert von Vestra is the very definition of scheming callousness. What could he possibly want? Nothing good.
Indignant frost calcifies Claude’s blood. It takes all his strength to hold himself back, to not lunge at these stuck-up rivals.
“…I was wondering if you’d like to accept my invitation to the dance? A lady so pretty and scholarly like yourself showing up without any company or a man by your side would be heartbreaking! Unthinkable!”
Gods. Doesn’t anybody get tired of Ferdinand’s sappy heroics? Claude can’t imagine being him for a day.
“And let’s face it, my harsh friend Hubert is not one for romantic frivolity. I’d be honored if you let me be your date that evening, Lysithea!”
Gliding forward, he hovers behind his girlfriend, and offers his best deadly-sweet smile. Claude’s arms drape over Lysithea’s frame and pull her close. I’m here.
“She’ll be declining both of your invitations, gentlemen.”
“Agh! Is that so?” Ferdinand blinked several times and clutched his heart. What a drama king. “But Lysithea doesn’t have a beau! No official invitations have been made.”
Claude stifles a sigh. A bouquet of flowers and an obnoxious show of claiming a lover. What an outdated tradition. Another way for the rich to boast about what they have. “Love is more than silly invitations and stagy declarations. It’s about true devotion. To be there when the other needs you, to do whatever it takes, to love them when the world is falling apart around you.”
Hubert’s cold snake-like eyes bore into Claude’s. “As I recall, Lysithea is her own person. Shouldn’t she decide who her company is?”
Before Claude could spit an insulting witty answer Lysithea said, “Sorry but I’m not attending.”
“You’re not?” Baffled, Ferdinand staggered as if he had been wounded by a stabbing knife. “But parties are essential! It is in a noble’s blood to-”
“Yes, yes, I know. To me they’re a waste of time. I’d rather be surrounded by minds full of wisdom than empty airbags, thank you. Our studies should be put first before anything. Good day.”
The two quickly depart from the open courtyard and into the quieter halls of Garreg Mach. Smiling with her eyes closed, she clasped a dainty hand over Claude’s. He instantly wrapped his arms around her and hummed, content. All his troubles, anxiety, and anger vanished instantly.
“It’s okay Claude. I can handle myself.”
“I know,” he inhaled, feeling like he’s walking on air. If only he could make these fleeting moments last forever. “But they were practically all over you.”
His gentle grip became stronger than snake coils and his anger rumbled deeply within his voice. “Hubert looks at you like something to sink his teeth into and Ferdinand…he’s so uppity, like a living fairytale prince. He’s every girl’s dream, guy.”
The white-haired witch snorted –but her smile is warm. “Hubert looks at everybody that way. And you’ve got some imagination to think Ferdinand of all people, would be every girl’s dream guy. He’s not my type. He’s an honorable noble but his personality is…gaudy and enraging.”
Uncertainties impale Claude’s sturdy carefreeness. What if Lysithea left him? Left him for someone better?
Normally nothing bothers him, even when things don’t go according to plan, but Lysithea is his everything. She signifies what paradise is. And he can’t stand it when others unapologetically try to sweep her off her feet.
His whole life Claude has been treated less than nothing. A throwaway. A meaningless life. What if the person he cared for most left him? Would anybody be able to see him as more than a low-born rogue? He wears a flashy title but that means nothing without lineage.
“Claude.” Her playful gaze softens. She intertwined her hands with his and smiled at him. He melted into her, mesmerized by those pale lavender eyes.
“I’m yours.”
He leans forward and kisses her velvety lips, once, twice. Each time hesitant to let go. “You’re mine.”
Ever since they got together they’ve confirmed their love for each other like this. Common ‘I love you-s’ were pointless and unsentimental.
“I won’t leave you,” Lysithea whispered. Scarlet scars both of their faces. The world around them is just a backdrop to the fireworks.
Claude’s eyes carry a menacing glint. “Even if I feel like tearing them apart limb from limb?”
She shook her head. “That just means you really care about me. Love without jealousy isn’t love at all. Nobody ever saw me as capable and strong but you do. You’re all I need, Claude.”
The two are summoned with the rest of the Golden Deer to the gates. Byleth is leading them on a mission to slay some bandits raiding towns inside Seiros territory. Splitting the forces evenly they descend into the valleys and attack a group of bandits running wild in a village.
Whistling arrows arc high above the trees and fell two bandits hiding in the woods. From this high up on a rooftop, Claude can easily deal swift kills. The bastards are sent scrambling into the depths of town and from both sides Ignatz and Ingrid ambush them. Few manage to flee but the rest suffer a grotesque fate.
The archer and his friends loot whatever they can from dead bodies. Ignatz flinches as pools of blood trickle down stone streets, a mix of sympathy and fear highlights his face. “We should bury them. Heartless or not they are human beings like us.” He sheathed his knife and carefully avoided the blood fast approaching his boots.
Ingrid scoffed. “Bury them? They don’t deserve graves.”
Their words fall on deaf ears. Claude is transfixed on something else. Blood. He looks at their haunting dead stares. Blank and cloudy. Crouching, he lowers his hand into the pool of blood and watches globs of it drip from his fingertips. He remembered some helpful potion guides stored in the medical ward, ones that would ensure him future victories.
“More bandits incoming!” Ingrid hissed. Time to move.
Lysithea burst through the tall medical ward doors and ran over to her lover. “Claude!”
He’s lying in a bed, shirtless and wrapped in bandages. The witch tackles him in a hug, her beautiful white hair pooling around him. “I was worried! Manuela said you were badly hurt!”
“I’m fine,” he held Lysithea’s hand and kissed her knuckles. Her love is an elixir. And her cute pout makes his heart flutter.
Claude almost feels bad for faking his injuries.
“Stay with me?”
Lysithea sighed and rested her head on his chest. “I will. Otherwise you’ll get hurt again.”
She dreams. Falls into a lull. Claude’s voice is a cure for the intellectual witch’s insomnia.
Lysithea plunges into a blurry vague world of past memories. It was a rainy day. Quiet. A perfect day for studying. But as she carried a stack of books to an empty library table she saw Marianne, Annette, and Mercedes giggling and whispering. Cards are laid out.
“What are you guys doing?” Leaving her books at an empty table Lysithea walked over to them.
“Annette got a gift from one of her distant relatives,” Mercedes said. “A new invention of fortunetelling. Doesn’t it sound exciting?”
“I know my fortune will be bad…” Marianne sadly muttered.
“It won’t! I’m sure of it! We got to have a few lucky days in our lives,” Anette’s cheerful gaze lands on Lysithea. “Why don’t you join us?”
“Okay.”
Taking a seat she stares at a smiling Mercedes. “What would you like to know?”
Lysithea takes her time to answer. She’s not one to place high stakes on prophesying but maybe some things are worth tuning into the spiritual. “I…I’d like to know about love.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Mercedes clasped her hands together and smiled sweetly.
“Okay! Let’s see…” Anette shuffled the deck of cards. “What do you want to know?”
The white-haired witch has big dreams. She, like Claude, wanted to make a better world and override her shortcomings. To show everybody that she is more than her flaws, that she too can achieve something great. Lysithea loves Claude but she was always worried he’d find someone better. She isn’t as pretty, girlie, or strong as the other girls at the Officers Academy. Her only talent is her smarts. Or at least, that’s what Lysithea thinks.
“I want to know if true love is forever. If soulmates are real.” Lysithea never wants to be apart from Claude. It’d hurt too much. Worse than a knife to the heart. Worse than drowning.
Mercedes slowly turned over the cards and described each one’s meaning. “You’ll have a long happy life with someone and…oh, this is morbid. Ice and death. Death usually means something bad but in this position, it means it’ll help from afar.”
“Death?” Lysithea’s brows furrowed. “How can death be helpful?”
Pale lavender eyes open to complete darkness. The entire ward is empty. Claude is gone too. Lysithea pats the bed covers and wonders if she’s hallucinating. There’s not a single torch lit either. She doesn’t even hear the metal clacking of the guard’s boots on patrol for curfew. No nurses are on nigh shift.
Unnerved by the immense soundlessness and potential (otherworldly) dangers, Lysithea strides carefully. Her whole body trembles frightfully. She puts her hand over her tome, ready to shout a magic spell. “P-Please don’t b-be g-ghosts!”
The doors are locked. A heavy bolt is latched over them. Why? With a grunt she swings the bolt up and opens the door, and it groans loudly in a vacant yard.
Fire. Smoke clogs the air and reaches over Garreg Mach like a vengeful army. Above is a big fire crackling among the watch towers and mountainous woodlands. Lysithea blindly wanders, trying to find an exit, when she narrowly dodges crumbling bricks.
Coughing and sputtering she hardly notices a looming shadowy figure emerging from the smoke. Hearing a wissshhhhing of metal in air, Lysithea turns to see an armored bandit swinging a sword at her. She waves her arm up, fearing that this would be her last moments, when Byleth comes to the rescue.
Metal meets metal. With a flick of her arm Byleth disarms the bandit and kills him. “Come on, this way!” They run out of Garreg Mach into the safety of descending forests, now littered with tents and campfires. Seteth greeted them and rounded up some Seiros guards.
“Now that everyone is accounted for we’re going to send in some knights to detain the remaining bandits and put out fires.” He along with a small unit, dispersed into the castle.
“You aren’t hurt are you?”
“No.”
Byleth waved a hand and guides Lysithea to the Golden Deer camp.
Everyone is hunched around a fire, awaiting Hilda and Raphael’s hearty meal roasting on a spit. Claude looks up and jumps to his feet, tackling his lover in a hug. “You’re safe!” A playful smile unfolds on his face. “I guess we need each other. I’m not letting you go.”
“What happened?”
Byleth sheathed her sword and thoughtfully narrowed her eyes at the blaze. “A fire broke out. Then a group of bandits broke in and we had to evacuate. It was strange. They looked human but it was as if they were under some sort of spell or drug. Like adrenaline but far more dangerous.”
Claude slung an arm over his lover’s shoulder, his carefree expression on his face again. “We made it out okay. You want us to go looking for ‘em, Teach?”
“And miss out on this?” Raphael started serving juicy slabs of meat while Hilda poured drinks.
Byleth nodded. “He’s right. We’ll let Seiros handle it. We should get rest and then help out tomorrow.”
Today Sothis’ comet would pass by. Lysithea is excited about the event but for now she’d do her best to help those hurt from the bandit attack and fire. Thankfully hardly anyone had any serious injuries. Some looked gruesome but they were survivable. Lysithea had swung by the marketplace to buy potions for the healers. She now is walking over to deliver them when she sees three people hiding between chaotic rows of tents.
“You…you can’t be serious,” Bernadetta mumbled. “The bandits were all over Garreg Mach like ants! The knights found your eyes with their things. Next to a d-dead body.”
“I’m always serious!” Hubert hissed. Both of his eyes are gone, replaced by grotesque scars and hastily applied bandages. He sits upon a wooden barrel and tosses a makeshift cane aside angrily.
“I know what I saw. The bandits didn’t blind me.”
“But everything was covered in thick smoke,” Edelgard reasoned. Their voices are lowered and laced with uneasiness.
“When I find the bastard who did this to me I’m going to-”
“Save your anger,” Edelgard helped Hubert to his feet. “Let’s go get some food.”
After quickly delivering the potions Lysithea pushed past crowds of busy attendees and made her way to the Golden Deer camp. “Where’s Claude?” Her voice is spitefully curt.
Hilda stops polishing her axe and says, “He went hunting in the woods. Do you need a hand?”
“No. It won’t be necessary.”
Trekking into the shady woods, Lysithea lets nothing slow her pace. “Claude, where are you?” Lysithea freezes when she gets a whiff of blood. A strong sharp metallic scent.
But there’s no trace of dead animal anywhere.
She slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream when a severed human arm drops in front of her. Quickly looking up she finds a smiling Claude. He’s perched on a sturdy branch and has one leg swinging. “Like my gift?”
“C-Claude! You…you’re the one who blinded Hubert and hurt Ferdinand?”
His handsome smile dropped and his eyes darkened. “That isn’t all I did. Give me some credit. I started the fire, drugged the bandits’ drinks with a strengthening potion, and lead them to Garreg Mach.”
He jumped down from the branch and started pacing back and forth. “I can’t stand it when others try to get between us. You’re the one good thing in my life. I always had to desperately fight for what I wanted and I learned it’s the only way to accomplish anything.”
“They’re our friends, Claude!”
“For how long?”
They stare at each other in bitter silence.
“This peaceful academy life won’t last forever. War is too profitable and there’s a lot to gain. People don’t care about the amount of losses or casualties as long as they get the crown in the end.”
“But to spill blood? Like this? I-”
“Lysithea,” Claude grabs her arms and closes the distance between them. “I’m doing this for me and you. We’ll come out of this alive. No kingdom in history has ever been obtained through bloodless means. I’m just making sure we get the advantage when war eventually strikes Fodlon. We have Byleth too. She’s the perfect weapon for us. For the Leicester Alliance. We can change things.”
“I don’t want to lose any of my friends.” Night falls over the sky faster than plagues wipe out entire towns. Diamond-pretty stars glitter in endless darkness. Sothis’ comet streaks across the universe, hurtling like coins flickering and fall into a wishing well.
Claude kisses Lysithea, capturing her lips, and her heart with his aspirations. “You won’t. We’ll reunite Fodlon under one flag. We’ll gather as many forces as we can and then come out of the war as champions. Heroes. Imagine it. You and me as rulers. We can make this world a better place.”
Lysithea meets his lips with hers. She refuses to lose her soulmate. If she had to jump into the unknown to be with Claude, she would. He can’t brave this alone, not without her. “If you must bleed the world for your goals then I’ll be with you until my last breath.” Sacrifices must be made in times of war, don’t they?
He kissed her again as the comet turns in the sky. “I’m yours.”
“And your mine.”