Chapter Text
She preferred nightmares to dreams.
Her nightmares were simple: the massacre at Zanado, her final clash with Nemesis, falsified visions of Cichol struck from the sky, Cethlean ran through, Macuil and Indetch staring blankly through her soul...
But then she awoke, and they were once again in the distant past.
To her dreams, that was the agony.
Really though, she usually just avoided sleep outright. Given her nature, she needed far less than humans did regardless, so she saw no need to waste her time in such a way.
Cichol would chide her for that.
Cichol was busy weeping over his daughter's comatose body.
Cichol probably had nothing to say to her, these days.
Regardless, that meant she heard the three young nobles far before she saw them.
They were bickering amongst themselves, panting slightly as they did, racing through the undergrowth with reckless abandon as they tried to devise a plan to escape their pursuers.
She sighed, and drew her worn steel sword. Her shield, a small leather buckler, was already strapped to her arm. Carefully, she pulled her hood over her head, tucking most of her green hair and her pointed ears carefully out of sight.
Sure enough, the three of them crashed through the undergrowth towards her, stumbling to a stop as they realised the clearing they had reached was occupied.
One, a boy dressed in gold, shot her an uneasy glare even as his face kept in a light smile. The blonde garbled in blue visibly startled, before beaming widely at the sight of aid. And the girl-
She bore the Crest of Serios.
She could tell the second she took in those lilac eyes. Her crest burned in this girl's veins.
A Hresvelg.
...Given the colouration of their outfits, she would presume that would make the blonde a Blaiddyd, and the brunette a Riegan. Descendants of those so called Heroes...
"Are you a mercenary?" Her descenda- the Hresvelg asked, glaring into the shadows with... with the Sword of Serios, of course. That ancient holy relic of the Imperial line. "That is good fortune indeed. We're being pursued by bandits- we will recompense you finely if you grant us your aid."
"What she said- we're all pretty well off, one way or another," the Riegan boy laughed drawing his bow, "Unless you're another bandit. Then we're just three innocent students, not a penny between us..."
"Claude, save your jests!" the Blaidydd sighed, readying his lance, "I'm sorry to ask this of you, stranger, but... we have little other avenues..."
"I'm not a mercenary. Simply an old warrior with many a regret." She said. "On my honour, your deaths will not join them."
"Glad to hear it. Here they come!"
The bandits were chaotic and unorganised. Without a word, the archer skittered up a tree with surprising agility, looping his legs around a branch and dangling for an unobstructed shot. Questionable posture, but given the other twos non-reactions, she'd place faith he knew what he was doing. The Blaidydd took position at the front of their little group, breaking the uncoordinated wave of enemies with wild swings of his spear.
Those that made it past him were easily dispatched either to Serios' gleaming sword or...
Well.
Serios' current sword.
Despite herself, she snorted slightly as she kicked one of the assailants back, shield already poised to intercept the next and sword still embedded in the second.
Mother was surely laughing gleefully at this little prank, from wherever she rested amongst the stars.
"I'm glad you have the time to find amusement." the Hresvelg chuckled breathily, panting heavily. She deftly flicked the blood from the wavy blade before darting forwards again, "I am Edelgard, by the by. Edelgard Von Hresvelg."
Edelgard... What a fine name...
In her momentary distraction, a bandit leapt at her. An arrow swiftly replaced his eye.
"You're welcome!" the archer cheekily winked, two more arrows already knocked. "If we're doing introductions, the names Claude Von Riegan!"
"Dimitri." the lancer offered in between fierce blows. "Dimitri Alexandre Blaidydd. A pleasure to meet you, despite our circumstances."
She remained silent, launching herself over his head to slam an axe wielder to the ground. Honestly, these bandits were so beneath her she hardly even needed a sword...
Soon, only the bandits leader remained.
Soon, no bandits remained.
"You fight extraordinarily well," Dimitri praised, pulling out a cloth to wipe clean his lance. "Apologies again, for interrupting your... whatever it was you were doing out here."
"Merc or not, we'll happily reward you for giving us a hand back there..." Claude chuckled, dropping from his perch with the ease he reached it, swaying slightly as the blood rushed from his head. "...Just as soon as we remember where our camp is... we don't exactly have much cash on hand..."
"Goddess only knows how long that'll take us..." Edelgard sighed, "It would be much easier if a certain someone hadn't dashed away at the first sign of trouble..."
"Hey, my tactical retreat was going just fine until you two chased after me."
"Is that what it was? Here I thought you were boldly leading them away from the camp..."
"That sort of mentality will make a naive ruler." Edelgard scoffed, "His intentions were clear as day- if not in his character then in the noise he made as he fled..."
"Ah, but will you're mentality not make for a paranoid ruler?" Dimitri softly chuckled, "One cannot always assume the worst of people..."
"Okay, if you two are hashing out the qualities of a ruler, I'm out." Claude sighed, "So, stranger, want to pick a direction and pray?"
"...You came from the north- at some pace at that. It shouldn't be too hard to find your trail and follow it."
"And we're saved once again!" Claude laughed, a shadow over his eyes, "Is there anything you can't do?"
She remained silent.
"Hold a conversation, evidently," Edelgard scoffed. She was scanning her appearance head to toe, now the dangers had fully passed. "...Not a bad trait, mind. Some people should truly take such an example..."
"Still... may we have the honour of knowing your name?" Dmitri asked. His politeness sharply contrasted the wildness with which he fought...
A boy wearing a jesters mask, a girl who's searching gaze never rested, and a haunted shadow pasting on a smile...
"I... have had many names. The most recent was... Rhea, I belive?" she answered. "That will do as well as anything..."
"...And so, the mysteries grow ever deeper." Edelgard chuckled, "Still, it would be rude to pry before even repaying yo-"
"...tta get... At least one!"
The slurred snarling was their only warning, as the bandit leader threw himself to his feet, launching himself at the nearest of their little gro-
Edelgard.
She was fast, to her credit. Pulling a dagger from her belt in the blink of an eye. It would do little against his axe.
For a blink, it was Wilhelm.
Serios didn't think. She threw herself between her descendant and her attacker.
Pain exploded against her back.
Instinctively, she lashed out with her mother's gifted power.
Her crest flared to life behind her.
And darkness engulfed her vision.