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Chapter Text

Prologue – Viole(n)t Winds of Fódlan

The forests of an unknown land burned with the last light of dusk as three figures sprinted through the undergrowth, their breaths ragged, their armor splattered with dirt and blood. Blonde man led the charge, his spear gripped tight, his blue cape torn by brambles. Behind him, white haired young woman moved with sharp precision, axe in hand, while black haired man with a skin darker than the others brought up the rear, his bowstring taut as he glanced back at their pursuers.

Bandits. Dozens of them. And gaining fast.

- We can’t outrun them! – the woman snapped.

- Then we stand. – blonde man said growled.

Black haired man nocked an arrow:

- Love the confidence, Your Princeliness, but we’re a little outnumbered—

A shadow dropped from the trees. It landed between them and the bandits with a thud, sending up a cloud of leaves. The figure straightened slowly, a woman with wild violet hair, one eye obscured by her bangs, the other a piercing the same colour as her hair. A sword rested lazily on her shoulder, its edge gleaming despite the dim light.

- Need a hand? – she asked, her voice laced with amusement.

The three of them froze. The blonde man recovered first recovered first:

- Who might you be?

- Right now? The name will suffice. I’m Shez, a merc. I could help you if you pay me nicely. I’m not asking much

- A mercenary? – the woman asked. – But unfortunately we have no coin to pay you.

- Edelgard is right. – the blond man said. – Forgive me. I’m Dimitri, this is Edelgard. – he pointed at the woman to the right. – And this is Claude. – he pointed to the man to the left. – We’re students, and our camp is not too far. When we’ll return to the camp, we’ll pay for our help. Do you mind?

- Fine. – The woman shrugged – Pay me when you get to camp. Either way, those guys look like they need a good stabbing.

- I like her. – Claude grinned.

The portal snapped shut behind Violet with a sound like a sigh, leaving her standing in a sun-drenched forest clearing. Above, the sky stretched endless and blue, dotted with clouds that reminded her of the nights spent with her brother in Telius. For a moment, she just stared, the familiarity of it all tightening her throat.

- Something wrong? – Mavka’s voice slithered from her shadow.

- No. – Violet said, too quickly. – Just… memories.

Before the shadow could pry, a clash of steel rang out close. Too close. Violet turned, her boots crunching over fallen leaves as she drifted toward the noise. The forest thinned, revealing a scene of chaos:

A whirlwind of purple hair and blades, laughing as she parried three bandits at once. Dimitri, his spear a silver blur, holding the line with almost feral intensity. Edelgard, precise and deadly, her axe cleaving through armor like parchment. Claude, arrows flying faster than curses, his smirk never fading.

But Violet’s gaze snagged on the treeline to the right. There, a hulking figure barked orders, the bandit leader, his face scarred, his axe notched with old blood.

- Wow. What a pathetic worm. – she muttered.

- Interested? – Mavka purred.

Violet didn’t answer. She leaned against a tree, arms crossed, watching.

The last of the bandits crumpled under Dimitri’s spear, leaving only their leader and a handful of stragglers near the treeline. The brute roared, hefting his axe.

- This must be their leader. – Dimitri said, his spear ready

Shez blinked. A violet arc split the air. The bandit leader’s arm tumbled to the grass before his scream could even form. Another flash, horizontal this time, and the bandit fell dead without any sound. The woman stood there, her back to them, as the body hit the dirt. No sword in her hand. No sword at all. It had vanished the moment the kill was done. Shez’s fingers tightened around her own blade.

- Just like mine.

The woman turned her head slightly, casting a glare over her shoulder, not at the students, not at the corpses, but at Shez. Cold. Calculating. Then she faced them fully, silent as a shadow. Dimitri was the first to break the stillness:

- Who—?

- You looked like you needed a hand. – the woman said flatly.

- Well, that’s understated. – Claude burst out laughing. – Pretty sure the Knights of Seiros can scrape together pay for one more mercenary after that display.

Shez didn’t join in. She was too busy staring at the stranger’s empty hands. The woman noticed.

- Something the matter? – she asked, voice like frost.

- Nah. – Shez forced a grin. – Just admiring the speed.

Lie. Or half of one, anyway. The speed was terrifying. But that wasn’t what set her teeth on edge. She summons blades too. Just like her. And she’s never met anyone else who could.

Violet

HP 100(150)

Str 97(145)

Mag 50(75)

Skl 123(184)

Spd 125(187)

Lck 90(135)

Def 81(121)

Res 87(130)

Likes: ???

Dislikes: ???

Skills:

- Vantage: seeing the opening in enemy’s, Violet will attack first, if foe attacks her.

- Perfect Astra: stronger version of Astra. It’s faster and Violet never misses her attacks.

- Luna: Violet’s keen eye lets her see the opening in the enemy’s defense and attack their defenseless spots.

- Adept: the faster she is, the more consecutive attacks she can perform at a time.

- Shadow Play: Mia can cooperate with Mavka to turn the tables in battles. Their tactics are not always predictable.

- Violet Blue: Violet’s outer form. Her hair changes to a mix of strong violet and fading blue. Her eyes shine with firey blue colour. Often uses it to aura farm.

- Complete Annihilation: similar to Astra. In a certain radius she moves in a lightning speed and destroys everything she chooses in mere seconds.

Shooting Star: a sword made of Violet’s feelings, her emotional extension.

Weapon ranks: Swords – Mastered, Spears – Mastered, Axes – A

Chapter 1 – The World of the Academy

The fire crackled, casting flickering shadows across Violet’s face as she sat alone, her gaze fixed on the dancing flames. The others mingled nearby—Dimitri speaking quietly with Dedue, Claude exchanging jabs with Hilda, Edelgard observing them all with that calculating stare.

Shez dropped down beside her without ceremony, stretching her legs out with a groan.

- So. – she started, nudging Violet with her elbow. – About that blade-summoning thing. How do you do that?

Violet turned to her, the firelight catching in her green eyes. A slow, knowing smile curved her lips:

- It’s a long story. If we stick together, maybe I’ll tell you someday.

Shez opened her mouth to press further, but.

- Ah! There you two are! – Alois’s booming voice cut through the night as he lumbered over, his armor clanking. – I’ve got a proposition for you both!

- We agreed! – Shez groaned. – Payment here, then I’m gone.

Violet said nothing, her eyes flicking between them, amused.

- Yes, well, slight hiccup! – Alois rubbed the back of his head, sheepish. – Turns out we’re a bit light on funds at the moment. But! The Church of Seiros will pay you handsomely if you accompany us to Garreg Mach. Consider it a… delayed bonus!

- Fine. – Shez scowled. – But the second I get my coin, I’m out.

- Wonderful! – Alois beamed, then turned to Violet. – And you?

- I don’t mind. – Violet tilted her head, her smile softening. – That’s what my heart says, anyway.

- Whatever that means. – Shez smirked

Violet’s grin widened, just a fraction.

And for a moment, under the starlit Fódlan sky, something unspoken passed between them. A challenge? Curiosity? The first thread of a bond neither could name. Then the moment broke, and the fire burned on.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 – New Occupation

Garreg Mach Monastery loomed before them, its towering spires and ancient stone walls casting long shadows in the afternoon sun. Violet tilted her head back, taking in the sheer scale of it, colossal, imposing, alive with history. It reminded her of the grand cathedrals in Begnion, where she would go with her father when she was little, though this place hummed with a different kind of power. Beside her, Shez whistled low.

- Damn. Fancy digs.

They were led to the audience chamber, where a woman stood waiting. Rhea, her light green hair cascading like a waterfall, her presence both serene and unshakable. Her smile was warm, but her eyes held something older, something Violet couldn’t quite place.

- Welcome. – Rhea said, her voice like a hymn. – I understand you’ve both done the Church a great service. As thanks, I would like to offer you the opportunity to study here at the Academy, free of charge.

Uh. – Shez’s eyebrows shot up. – No offense, but that wasn’t the deal. We were supposed to get paid, not enrolled.

- You are a mercenary, are you not? – Rhea’s smile didn’t waver. – Knowledge is its own currency. Here, you could hone your skills, learn strategy, and perhaps even find a new path.

- Tch. – Shez crossed her arms, considering. – Fine. I don’t have a house or a merc group anyway. Might as well. – she shot a glance at Claude, who grinned back. – Guess I’ll roll with him. They seem the least stuffy.

- A fine choice. – Rhea nodded. – I will arrange it. – then her gaze turned to Violet. – And you?

Violet met her eyes, unflinching:

- I appreciate the offer, but I’d fit better among the Knights. I’ve already studied…in my homeland. – a half-truth, smooth as silk.

Rhea’s expression flickered, just for a moment, with something like recognition. But she merely inclined her head:

- That will be more difficult to arrange, but I will see what can be done.

With that, they were dismissed. As they stepped back into the hall, Shez nudged Violet:

- Knights, huh? Could’ve taken the free ride.

- I prefer to earn my keep. – Violet smirked.

- Yeah, yeah. Just don’t get too cozy with the holy types. – Shez laughed.

Violet didn’t answer.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 – First Mission as a Knight. The Lions

A month had passed since Violet joined the Knights of Seiros, or at least, since she had been granted provisional status among them. The arrangement was loose, more of a formality than a true induction, but it gave her freedom to move, to observe, and to wait. That morning, Seteth found her in the training yard, her blade a silver blur in the dawn light. Her appearance changed. No longer her orange jacket, just a white Seiros armour and uniform. Without her bandana now she felt like a different person now. Seteth cleared his throat, his expression as unreadable.

- You’ve been assigned to accompany the Blue Lions on their mission this month. – he said, his tone leaving no room for debate.

- What’s the task? – Violet sheathed her sword.

- Zanado. The Red Canyon. Bandit remnants have been sighted there. Your role is to ensure the students return unharmed, not to clear the field for them.

- Understood. – Violet nodded.

Seteth studied her for a moment longer, as if waiting for her to protest, to ask why she had been chosen for this. But when she said nothing, he turned on his heel and left.

The Blue Lions’ classroom was bathed in the golden light of late afternoon when Violet pushed open the door. The chatter inside died down as all eyes turned to her, some curious, some assessing, some, in Sylvain’s case, openly appreciative. Dimitri rose from his seat with princely grace:

- Lady Violet! It’s an honor to fight alongside you tomorrow.

- Just Violet is fine. – she arched an eyebrow.

- We will be grateful for your assistance. – Dedue nodded.

- Good. – Felix leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. – I’ve been hearing the boar prattle on about your skills. Would’ve been annoying if you turned out to be all talk.

- I won’t be doing much fighting. – Violet’s lips twitched. – My job is to make sure you don’t die.

- Wow. Stoic and deadly. – Sylvain propped his chin on his hand, grinning. – My favorite combination in a woman.

- Sylvain! – Ingrid’s palm met her forehead with a smack.

- Haha. – Violet chuckled. Her lips curved into a smirk. – I’ve met your type before. Let’s just say he didn’t end well.

- Yikes! – Sylvain clutched his chest in mock horror, though his grin never faded.

- Do you really think we’ll be alright? – Mercedes clasped her hands together, worry creasing her brow. – It’s our first real battle...

- Of course we will! – Annette piped up, bouncing on her heels. – We’ve got Dimitri and Felix! And now Violet too!

- Again. – Violet held up a finger. – I’m here to prevent corpses. Not make them.

- We’re still glad to have you with us. – Ashe offered a shy smile.

For the first time since entering, Violet’s expression softened into something resembling warmth:

- You’re a colorful bunch. – she turned to leave, pausing at the door. – Try not to disappoint me out there.

The moment the door clicked shut behind her, the room erupted.

- She’s terrifying. – Annette whispered.

- I like her. – Felix said.

- Oh, I definitely like her. – Sylvain sighed dreamily.

Ingrid’s groan could be heard all the way down the hall.

The Red Canyon's crimson cliffs loomed overhead as Violet stood with her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her standard-issue sword, a deliberate choice to conceal Shooting Star's presence. The bandits ahead were sloppy, their approach loud and uncoordinated, but danger lurked in even the clumsiest swings when wielded by desperate men.

- Ready, lion cubs? – she glanced over her shoulder at the Blue Lions.

Dimitri nodded, his grip tightening on his spear. Felix smirked, already stepping forward. Dedue did that as well, stepping forward to protect Dimitri. The others, Ashe, Annette, Mercedes, Sylvain, Ingrid, formed up with varying degrees of confidence.

- Go. I'll watch your backs. – Violet motioned them ahead.

The Lions moved in, their inexperience evident. Dimitri overextended, his raw strength carrying him too far ahead of the group. Felix was precise but isolated, cutting down foes but leaving his flank open. Dedue’s defense was impenetrable, but the bandits were too fast for him to counterattack. Ashe's arrows found their marks, though his hands shook slightly with each shot. Annette fumbled a spell, the wind blade going wide and kicking up dust. Sylvain and Ingrid held the line, but their footwork was still untested. Violet stayed in the center, her gaze flicking between them like a hawk.

An axe-wielding bandit broke through, charging her with a roar. She didn't draw her sword. Instead, she twisted, caught his wrist, and shoved him straight into Dimitri's path. The prince skewered him without breaking stride. Archers loosed a volley at her from the cliffs. Violet didn't flinch. Her sheathed sword flashed, deflecting arrows with sharp pings of steel on steel, sending them harmlessly into the dirt.

Mercedes gasped as a bandit lunged at Annette, only for Violet to appear between them, driving a knee into the attacker's gut and hurling him back with a throw that cracked stone.

- Wounds are fine. – Violet called over the chaos. – Death is not. Keep moving.

They pressed forward, getting themselves across the stone bridge. Violet glanced back, taking stock of the Blue Lions. Dimitri, Felix, and Dedue moved with lethal focus, their blades already stained. Ingrid and Sylvain held their ground, but their eyes betrayed the weight of what they'd just done, lives taken, not just sparring dummies struck. Ashe's hands trembled around his bow. Annette stared at her shaking fingers. Mercedes clutched her staff like a lifeline.

First kills.

Violet said nothing. There were no words for this moment. Only the next step forward.

The bandit leader waited at the other side, flanked by two swordsmen.

- C’mon. There’s not much of them left. – Violet turned to the group.

The first lunged at her, steel glinting, only for her to slam her fist into his wrist, sending his sword clattering to the ground. A sharp kick to his ribs sent him flying backward, tumbling into Dimitri's path. The second came high, aiming for her throat. She sidestepped, caught his collar, and hurled him toward Felix like a ragdoll. Neither bandit had time to scream before the prince and the swordsman cut them down.

The leader froze, his bravado crumbling. Violet didn't give him the chance to run. She stomped, cracking the earth underfoot, a distraction as Dimitri's spear and Felix's blade found their mark from opposite sides.

- Oops. – she looked at the ground. – A bit overdid it.

The man fell without a sound. Silence. Then:

- That was... excessive. – Ingrid said, eyeing the shattered ground where Violet had struck.

- Effective, though. – Felix countered, wiping his blade.

Dimitri studied Violet, something unreadable in his gaze:

- You didn't draw your sword once.

- Didn't need to. – she shrugged.

Mercedes knelt beside the fallen bandits, her healing glow useless now:

- They were just... people.

- They were bandits. – Dedue rumbled.

- Doesn't make it easier. – Ashe swallowed hard.

Violet turned away, her voice low but carrying:

- It never does. But hesitate, and you'll be the one bleeding next time. These people chose this life. To kill. To rob. To…abuse. You shouldn’t feel pity for them.

The words hung in the air, heavy as the canyon's ancient stones.

- Great job today, Lions. Go back. I’ll catch you later. – Violet said.

The Blue Lions moved ahead, their voices fading into the canyon’s rust-colored haze as Dimitri led them back toward Garreg Mach. Violet lingered, her boots scuffing the bloodstained earth where the bandits had fallen. The silence was thick, broken only by the distant cry of a hawk circling overhead. Then.

- Playing teacher now? How quaint. – Mavka’s voice slithered from the shadows, dripping with amusement.

- It’s just a job. A responsibility. – Violet didn’t turn.

- And here you were torturing Koschei not so long ago. – the shadow purred. – What happened to ‘no mercy’?

- It’s different. – Violet snapped, finally glancing at the inky pool of her own shadow. – These are just kids.

- You didn’t even draw your sword.

- They didn’t need me to.

- You’re soft on them.

- They’re just kids. – she repeated, quieter this time. – I… want to be more…Mia with them. With these people.

- But?

She hesitated. The wind whistled through the canyon, carrying the scent of iron and dust:

- I don’t know. Something feels off. Like I’m… not quite myself. – she sighed. – Maybe I haven’t gotten over it yet. Their deaths. My family.

- Healing takes time.

Violet smirked, though there was no humor in it:

- Since when do bes know about feelings?

- I’ve been watching you long enough. – Mavka said lightly. – Humans are… interesting.

- Whatever. Let’s go back.

She turned her back on the corpses, on the canyon, on the ghosts that clung to her like cobwebs, and walked away.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 – The Life of the Knight

The clang of steel echoed across the training grounds as Violet leaned against the pillar, watching the Blue Lions drill under the morning sun. Dimitri shattered training dummies with raw force, his strikes more suited to a battlefield than a courtyard. Ingrid and Sylvain sparred, her precision clashing against his fluid feints. Ashe fumbled with his bow, while Annette cheered him on between her own wind-magic exercises.

A shadow fell beside her.

- Spar with me.

Felix stood there, his practice sword already in hand, his gaze sharp enough to cut. Violet didn’t look at him:

- We’re on different levels.

- Exactly. – he shot back. – That’s why it’d be good practice.

She finally turned, studying him, the stubborn set of his jaw, the hunger in his eyes. The same look she’d seen in the mirror years ago.

-...fine.

They faced off in an empty corner of the grounds. Felix took his stance, muscles coiled. Violet stood loose, her borrowed training sword dangling from her fingers like an afterthought.

- You’re not even ready. – he snapped.

- I don’t need to be.

He struck first, a lightning thrust aimed for her shoulder. Violet twisted, letting the blade pass so close it ruffled her sleeve. Before Felix could react, she tapped his ribs with her sword.

- Point.

Felix snarled, attacking again. A flurry of slashes, each faster than the last. Violet moved, not with speed, but with something worse: anticipation. She sidestepped, parried, or simply leaned out of the way, her sword meeting his only to redirect it elsewhere. Tap. His wrist. Tap. His knee. Tap. The back of his neck. Each touch light as a whisper, each a killing blow had the blades been real.

- Stop holding back. – he demanded, his voice sharp with frustration.

- If you so want to. – Violet smirked, a flash of something dangerous in her eyes.

Then she moved. Her wooden sword became a blur, striking with terrifying precision, each blow landing with enough force to send shockwaves up Felix’s arms. He parried the first, blocked the second, but the third slammed into his ribs hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs.

- Gh—! – he staggered back, teeth gritted.

Violet didn’t let up. Her next strike came from above, a brutal downward slash. Felix crossed his arms, bracing *crack* his practice sword shattered, splinters spraying across the floor. The impact sent him crashing to his knees, his sword arm trembling violently.

Silence. Violet stepped forward, the tip of her wooden blade hovering just before his face:

- I was still holding back. – she said, voice low. – Want to continue?

Before Felix could answer, Dimitri rushed over, his expression a mix of concern and awe:

- Felix! Are you—?

- I’m fine. – Felix snapped, shoving himself to his feet. He flexed his trembling fingers, then looked up at Violet and smiled, sharp and exhilarated. – You’re strong. Terrifyingly strong. I got the message. – a pause. – Still, I want to continue. If possible.

- You want to beat me with boredom? – Violet arched an eyebrow.

From the sidelines, Sylvain nudged Ingrid with a grin:

- Felix just got beat down in more than one way.

Felix shot him a glare but didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he turned back to Violet, his gaze burning:

- I’ll process this. And then I’ll come back.

Violet studied him for a long moment before shrugging:

- Suit yourself.

As she walked away, the whispers began, some awed, some uneasy. But Felix just stood there, staring at the broken pieces of his sword, his mind already racing.

How do I surpass it?

Violet’s boots clicked against the stone path as she made her way toward Seteth’s office, the midday sun casting sharp shadows across the monastery grounds. Then. A presence. Cold. Calculating. Lurking just beyond the edge of her vision. She didn’t turn.

- You’re with Edelgard, aren’t you?

A pause. Then, a voice like oiled silk slithered from the darkness.

- Why, aren’t you an attentive one?

Hubert stepped from the shadows of the nearby building, his gaunt features half-hidden beneath the brim of his hat, his smile thin and humorless. Violet turned to face him fully, her own smirk sharpening:

- Suspicious already? I’m flattered.

- There are no records of you. – Hubert said, his gloved fingers twitching slightly at his sides. – Not in the Empire. Not in the Kingdom or Alliance. You simply... appeared. – his eyes narrowed. – That makes you a potential threat to Lady Edelgard.

- Relax. – she chuckled. – I’ve got no plans for your precious princess. Just doing the Goddess’s work.

- How droll. – Hubert’s lip curled. – You’ll forgive me if I don’t take you at your word.

- Forgiven. – she said, waving a hand. – But if you’re so worried, why not try killing me now? – her grin turned feral. – Though I promise you’ll regret it. Greatly.

For the briefest moment, her eyes flickered blue, a flash of something inhuman in the sunlight. Hubert went very still. Then, with a slow exhale, he inclined his head:

- For now, you pose no active threat to Lady Edelgard. But make no mistake, I will be watching.

He turned to leave.

- What a weird type.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 – The Way She Bandit

Violet pushed open the door to Seteth’s office without knocking, the wood rattling against the stone wall as she strode in.

- Seteth. I’m here.

The green-haired advisor looked up from his desk, his expression as unreadable as ever:

- Ah. Good. I have a mission for you. – he slid a parchment across the desk. – Bandit activity in the western Kingdom. You’ll be accompanying Alois.

- Why? I can handle it alone. – Violet didn’t bother picking up the report.

- You’re quite confident in your abilities. – Seteth’s eyebrow arched.

- And you’re quite bad at hiding that you don’t trust me.

A beat of silence.

- Of course I don’t. – Seteth said bluntly. – A woman with no history, no records, who simply appears and asks to join the Knights? That is not merely unusual, it’s suspicious.

- Fair. – Violet smirked.

- I appreciate your work thus far. – he continued. – But that does not mean you’ve earned my full trust.

- Whatever the boss is saying.

Violet leaned against the monastery gates, arms crossed, as Alois came trotting up with his usual over-enthusiastic grin.

- Ah, Violet! Looks like we’re stuck together! – he boomed, clapping his hands together. – Though I suppose you could say we… knight be mates now!

Violet blinked. Then, after a full second of processing, she laughed:

- Okay. That was a good one!

- Glad someone appreciates my genius! – Alois beamed. – Most people just groan. – he scratched the back of his head, suddenly sheepish. – And, ah, sorry again for dragging you into all this Monastery business. I know it wasn’t part of the original deal.

- It’s fine. – Violet shrugged. – Didn’t mind it, actually. – she pushed off the wall and jerked her chin toward the road. – You ready to go?

- Just need to gather my troops!

- I thought it was just us. – Violet’s eyebrow shot up.

- Oh, don’t worry, our numbers are knight too shabby! – Alois winked.

- I’ll wait outside. – Violet sighed, but there was smile on her face.

Violet's smirk lingered as Alois marched off, his terrible pun still hanging in the air between them. Then Mavka's voice dripped from the shadows like poisoned honey.

-...you laughed at that? You, who once tortured a demigod mid-monologue?

- It was decent wordplay. – Violet shrugged.

- Of course. The woman who annihilates entire battlefields with a flick of her wrist... has the humor appreciation of a tavern drunkard. – Mavka's sigh was theatrically long-suffering. – I should have known. You've always had distaste for actual wit.

- Says the demon who thinks 'eternal suffering' counts as punchline.

- At least mine are sophisticated.

The bandit camp sprawled before them, far larger than the reports had suggested, but Violet only smirked:

- Actually too few. – she muttered. – Shall we go?

- Let's crash them violetly! – Alois grinned, hefting his axe.

- Better than your last one. – Violet chuckled.

Then she moved. The first bandit barely had time to shout "It's the Knights—" before her Brave Sword cleaved through his chest, silencing him mid-breath. Chaos erupted. Bandits poured from tents, weapons raised, only to meet a storm of calculated violence.

The first lunged at her with a spear. She twisted, driving her elbow into his spine with a sickening crunch. The next two came together. She kicked one's knee sideways, shattering the joint, while her free hand slammed the other's face into the dirt hard enough to crack teeth. A third swung an axe, she caught his wrist, snapped it backward, and rammed her forehead into his nose in one fluid motion.

Twenty seconds. Twelve bandits down. None dead. Behind her, Alois and the Knights were still engaging the outer guards, their own battle cries ringing through the camp.

Two massive figures burst from the largest tent, their axes gleaming with fresh polish, too clean for ordinary bandits. Violet's eyes narrowed.

- Oho? Boss fight? – she mused, spinning her sheathed sword lazily.

The first brute charged, swinging wildly. Violet danced around him, letting him tire himself, even nudging him off-balance with playful kicks to his shins.

- Stand still, you little—! – the second roared, joining the fray.

Violet grinned. Then. She leaped, clearing the first bandit entirely, and stomped onto the second's shoulders, driving him face-first into the dirt. A second stomp to his spine*crack*just enough to paralyze, not kill.

The first whirled, axe raised, only for Violet to parry with her sheath, the force rattling his teeth.

Before he could recover, she rammed the sheath through his mouth, knocking him flat. One final precision strike to his ribs, bones snapping, but organs untouched. The leader gurgled, then passed out.

Violet wiped imaginary sweat from her brow:

- Phew. Didn’t think I’d have to work this hard to not kill someone.

- By Seiros, lass, you moved like a blizzard with a grudge! – Alois jogged over, gaping at the carnage.

- Got 'em alive. Hurt, but alive. – Violet gestured to the moaning leaders. – We could get some bounty for their heads.

Alois blinked. Then, ever the professional:

- Guess you could say they got... over their heads!

Violet burst out laughing, while behind her, Mavka’s shadow visibly facepalmed.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 – Familiarizing With The Students

- Did you summon me? – Violet pushed open Seteth’s office door without knocking.

- How did the mission go? – Seteth didn’t look up from his paperwork.

- Yeah, about that. – Violet leaned against his desk, grinning. – It went pretty good. Their activity? Looks like we… bandit.

A heavy silence.

Seteth slowly lifted his gaze, pinching the bridge of his nose:

- Did you get that from Alois?

- Yep. – Violet’s smile widened.

- I see. – he exhaled deeply. – Perhaps spending time with him is not the best influence.

- Excuse you, it’s a great joke. – Violet scoffed.

- Never mind. – Seteth cut in, sliding a sealed letter across the desk. – Deliver this to Bernadetta. Her room is in the dormitories.

- This is why you called me here? – Violet picked up the letter, raising an eyebrow.

- It would benefit you to familiarize yourself with the students. – he said, already returning to his documents. – Consider it part of your duties.

- Alright, boss!

As she turned to leave, Seteth added without looking up:

- And please. No more jokes.

She just smiled.

Violet stared at the letter in her hand, turning Bernadetta's name over in her mind. Had she seen this girl before? The monastery was full of students, but this one didn't ring any bells.

- Guess I'll find out. – she muttered, stopping in front of a door plastered with "DO NOT DISTURB (OR ELSE)" signs.

She knocked. Silence. She knocked again, harder. A tiny, trembling voice seeped through the wood:

- W-who's there?!

- Violet. Got a letter for you. From your— – she squinted at the seal. – —mother?

- Liar! – Bernadetta shrieked. – Knights don't deliver mail! You're here to kill me!

- Now now, let's not rush things—

- THAT'S WHAT AN ASSASSIN WOULD SAY!

Violet sighed, looking around. No witnesses. In one fluid motion, she leapt, jumping over the dormitory, and rapped on Bernadetta's window. The girl slowly turned, only to come face-to-face with a smirking Violet perched outside her third-story window.

- Hi.

Bernadetta's scream could've shattered glass. She bolted for the door, yanked it open and collided straight into Violet, who was already leaning against the hallway wall.

- Now now. – Violet said, waving the letter. – Just delivering mail. See?

Bernadetta scrambled up, tried to slam the door, but Violet caught it with two fingers:

- I don't bite. Promise. – her gaze flicked past Bernadetta to the desk, strewn with half-finished novels and dramatic sketches. – You write stuff?

- SHE SAW. SHE SAW. SHE SAW—

Violet sighed, tossed the letter onto Bernadetta's bed, and strolled out:

- Later, Bernadetta.

The door slammed shut behind her. A lock clicked. Then three more.

- That was unnecessarily traumatic. – Mavka's voice oozed from the shadows.

- But was it?

Chapter 6x – Bernadetta

The training grounds echoed with the sharp clash of steel as Violet and Felix circled each other, their blades flashing under the midday sun.

- Your shoulder’s too stiff. – Violet remarked, parrying his strike with ease. – Loosen up, you’re telegraphing every move.

Felix gritted his teeth but adjusted his stance. His next slash came faster, cleaner.

- Better. – Violet said, deflecting it. – But your footwork’s still sloppy. Pivot on your back foot, not your heel.

Felix growled but obeyed, his movements growing sharper with each correction. Meanwhile, Mavka’s voice slithered from the shadows, low and urgent:

- The imperial brats are plotting. Hubert and Edelgard. Whispering in the far corner.

Violet’s eyes flicked toward the edge of the grounds, where Edelgard and Hubert stood, their heads bent together. She kept her voice barely audible:

- Not now.

- Did you say something? – Felix froze.

- I said don’t get distracted! – Violet snapped and in that split second of hesitation, her blade nicked his wrist.

Felix hissed, glaring at the thin line of blood. Violet lowered her sword, frowning. She’d hit harder than she meant to:

- That’s enough for today.

Felix opened his mouth to argue, but she was already walking away.

Once out of earshot, Violet hissed under her breath:

- What did you hear?

- Nothing concrete. Just… schemes. But you already suspected them.

- And if anything happens, I’ll handle it. – Violet smirked.

She turned on her heel and headed toward the dormitories, Bernadetta’s room, specifically.

- Checking on your favorite recluse?

- Perhaps

Violet leaned against Bernadetta’s door, knocking lightly.

- Bernadetta.

- GO AWAY! – a muffled shriek.

- Hey, come on. – Violet sighed. – We’ve established I don’t bite.

- N-NO HUMAN CAN BE IN TWO PLACES AT ONCE! – Bernadetta’s voice trembled through the wood.

- Let’s just say I’m really fast. – Violet said, waving a hand dismissively. – But that’s not the point—

- THAT’S EXACTLY THE POINT!

- I just want to talk.

Silence. Then the sound of furniture being dragged across the floor, probably barricading the door.

- Fine. – Violet muttered. – I’ll wait.

She slid down against the wall, crossing her legs, and settled in.

Daylight faded. Students passed by, giving her odd looks. She ignored them. Evening fell. The monastery grew quiet. Night deepened. Mavka grumbled about wasting time, but Violet didn’t budge. By morning, her back ached, but she didn’t move. Then, creak. The door cracked open. A single grey eye peeked out and the door slammed shut again. A beat. Then it opened once more. This time, Bernadetta noticed: Violet was asleep. Hesitant, the girl crept forward, her curiosity outweighing her fear. She reached out, fingers trembling, and lightly touched Violet’s hair.

- It’s still too early, Mom… – Violet mumbled in her sleep.

Bernadetta’s lips curled into a tiny, involuntary smile. Then Violet’s eyes fluttered open.

- Told you I’d wait. – she said, voice rough with sleep.

Bernadetta yelped, diving back into her room and slamming the door. Violet stood, stretching stiff muscles. She didn’t knock again. Just said, softly:

- I just want to talk. Promise.

A long pause. Then. The door inched open. Bernadetta peered up at her, eyes wide but no longer bolting. She welcomed Violet in and sat on her bed.

- W-What does a Knight of Seiros want with me? – Bernadetta’s fingers twisted in her sleeves as she stared at Violet.

- I want to know what’s bothering you.

- N-Nothing’s—! I mean—! Why would you—?!

- Breathe. – Violet said softly. – I’m not here to judge. Just… to help, if I can.

Something in her tone made Bernadetta pause. The girl’s shoulders loosened slightly:

-...your voice. It’s… like my mother’s.

- Tell me about her. – Violet smiled. – About your family.

Bernadetta hesitated, then, in a rush, the story spilled out. A father who saw her only as a political tool. A childhood locked away, punished for every "unladylike" hobby. How he would tie her to the chair to sit still. And how she ran from her home and enrolled into Academy.

When she finished, Violet exhaled slowly:

- Funny. I had the same problem.

- Hmm? How so?

- My father was a wealthy merchant. He wanted me to study this noble bullshit just to marry some noble at some point. One day he said that I will marry some noble brat, disgusting thing, really. That’s when I snapped and ran from home. I returned 15 years later. But when we met again and finally forgave each other, my family… – a sob clawed at Violet’s throat. She bit it back, jaw tightening. – I don’t blame you for hating him. That kind of behavior… it’s unacceptable. – a pause. – But family’s family. We don’t choose it. And that’s the only thing we have in our life. – she pushed off the bed, turning to leave. – Thanks for sharing your story. Hope it… helped, even a little.

The monastery courtyard was bathed in the golden hues of dusk as Violet stepped out of Bernadetta’s room. She tilted her head back, watching the first stars blink to life.

- Huh. Already evening.

From the shadows at her feet, Mavka’s voice slithered up, thick with amusement:

- You’ve gone soft.

- Don’t know what you’re talking about.

- Liar. – Mavka purred. – That girl’s problems are nothing to you. A spoiled noble brat with daddy issues. Yet you sat there, playing therapist. Even cried, or almost did. – a pause. – That’s not Violet. That’s Mia.

- Perhaps it is. But she died. Along with my parents that day.

- Did she? – Mavka’s form rippled, stretching lazily. – Because the woman who tortured Koschei until he begged for death wouldn’t have wasted a day comforting some trembling student. But Mia? Mia would’ve.

Violet stared at the horizon, where the sun’s last embers burned.

-...that is not the case. Just forget it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7 – An Assassination Attempt(?)

Violet strode into Seteth’s office, the door clicking shut behind her. Catherine stood beside him, arms crossed, her gaze sharp as the blade at her hip.

- You called? – Violet said, leaning against the wall with practiced ease.

- There are rumors of an assassination attempt on Lady Rhea. – Seteth’s expression was grim.

- Wow. Would be bad if I was the assassin, huh? – Violet smirked.

- This is not a joke. – Seteth said flatly. – And my distrust of you remains justified.

- Then why give me such a mission at all?

- Because your skills are undeniable. – Catherine cut in, stepping forward. – I’ve heard the stories. Saving the Lords, joining the Knights, taking down bandits bare-handed. – a slow grin spread across her face. - You’re not half bad for someone who popped out of nowhere. Might even be a real challenge for this. – she tapped the hilt of Thunderbrand.

- What’s that? – Violet’s eyes flicked to the sword.

- A Hero’s Relic. – Seteth explained. – It can only be wielded by those with the corresponding Crest. – he studied her carefully. – You were examined by Hanneman, were you not?

- He asked. Didn’t see anything. – Violet shrugged, then turned back to Catherine, her smirk returning. – So, you’re my babysitter? Better keep a real close eye on me. Just in case I am a real assassin.

- Oh, I plan to, alright. – Catherine laughed, though her grip on Thunderbrand tightened.

- Just patrol the monastery. – Seteth sighed. – And try not to cause an incident.

- Hey, it’s me you’re talking about. Be assured your mission will be completed with a 150% result. – she turned to leave.

Few days later. Night

The moon hung high over Garreg Mach as Violet and Catherine patrolled the silent monastery grounds, their footsteps echoing against the stone. The air was cool, the night still, too still for Catherine’s liking.

- So. – she said, rolling her shoulders. – Wanna spar? Quick match. Just to pass the time.

- Wouldn’t want you exhausting yourself on duty. – Violet didn’t even glance at her. – I’d be fine, though.

- You doubt my skills?

- Just stating facts. But if you’re that eager, how quick do you want it? Me toying with you? Or lightning fast? – she smirked.

A beat. Thunderbrand hummed at Catherine’s hip, as if sensing its wielder’s irritation. Then Catherine laughed, shaking her head:

- Yeah, we’d better save this for our free time. Wouldn’t want to explain to Seteth why we wrecked the courtyard.

- Smart choice. – her smirk widened.

High above the courtyard, Rhea watched from her window, her emerald eyes fixed on the two knights below. The moonlight cast long shadows across her face as she spoke without turning.

- Is this patrol truly about assessing threats, Seteth… or observing her?

Seteth folded his arms, his expression unreadable:

- The rumors may well be a decoy for something else entirely. But the timing serves us. If there is danger, we’ll see how Violet reacts. And if there isn’t…Then we learn how she conducts herself when tested.

- She has proven herself trustworthy these past months. Need we still question her?

- Caution is not distrust. – Seteth replied, his voice firm. – It is prudence.

Below, a sudden crash echoed, the sound of a body hitting stone. Rhea’s gaze sharpened.

- Though I suppose subtlety is too much to ask for. – Seteth sighed.

- Well. One rat down. – Violet smirked, as she looked at the unconscious mercenary sprawled at her feet. His dagger lay a few feet away, glinting uselessly in the torchlight.

- That was fast. – Catherine’s grip tightened on Thunderbrand.

- Told you I’d be fine. – Violet said, dusting off her gloves. – You’re welcome, by the way. Though. – Violet nudged the unconscious mercenary with her boot. – Only one?

- No one else around. Either we got lucky, or... – Catherine scanned the empty courtyard, Thunderbrand humming at her hip.

- Or this guy was late to the party. – Violet finished, cracking her neck. A beat passed before Catherine's eyes widened. – A shame for him, really.

- The Holy Mausoleum.

- What?

- Seteth suspected it could be a decoy. Follow me.

Violet shrugged and followed.

When they arrived the sacred chamber echoed with the aftermath of battle when they arrived. Claude's Golden Deer students stood amidst scattered weapons, their professor looking far too pleased with themselves. Catherine bolted to the far end of the room where the Relic lay undisturbed.

- Thank the Goddess. – she muttered, shoulders slumping.

Violet's attention snapped to a familiar purple-haired mercenary leaning against a pillar.

- Shez!

- Hey, Violet. – Shez grinned, pushing off the wall. Her eyes raked over Violet's uniform. – So you actually joined the Knights? Though I guess I shouldn't be surprised. – she tapped her temple. – Heard the stories - 'Violet Knight knocks out armed bandits bare-handed.' And here you are, playing guard dog.

- Still holding up here, I see. – Violet crossed her arms.

- Could be worse. – Shez shrugged. – Plenty of battles, free food, decent beds. Missed your chance to sign up, though.

- Nah. It’s you who missed your chance. Everyday missions, a lot of free time and hey! They pay pretty good.

- Knighting's not really my thing. – Shez laughed, stretching her arms behind her head. – Student life's more fun anyway.

- Well, someone actually doesn’t regret becoming a student here.

A pause. Then Shez's grin turned sharp.

- Wanna spar? I've gotten better since last time.

- If you've heard the stories, you know sparring with me doesn't end well. – Violet raised an eyebrow.

- Heard, yeah. – Shez rolled her shoulders. – Want to see it for myself.

- Tomorrow?

- Deal.

Chapter 7x – Shez

The training grounds lay empty save for the two warriors circling each other, blades glinting in the afternoon sun. Violet stood with one hand behind her back, Brave Sword held loosely in her right.

- You start. – she said, tilting her sword toward Shez.

- Wait. I heard you never even draw your sword for spars. – Shez blinked.

- Call this a special occasion. – a ghost of a smile played on Violet's lips.

Without warning, Shez lunged, twin blades crossing in a vicious X-slash. Violet sidestepped effortlessly, the wind from the strike ruffling her hair. Steel rang as Shez pressed the attack, diagonal cuts, feints, a whirlwind of strikes that would have overwhelmed any normal opponent. Violet parried each blow with minimal movement, her sword arm a blur.

- Not bad. – Violet admitted, deflecting a particularly sharp combo. – You're more experienced than the others here.

- And you're still holding back. – Shez panted, grinning through the exertion.

Violet's smirk returned. Then she moved. A single horizontal slash. Shez barely raised her swords in time, but the impact sent her skidding backward, boots scraping dirt.

- My turn.

Violet became a storm. Every strike carried the weight of a falling star, precise, relentless, inescapable. Shez's arms trembled as she blocked, her defense crumbling. Then Violet raised her sword high for a final downward strike. Then—

BOOM.

A shockwave of purple energy erupted as their blades locked. Shez's form shifted: hair streaked violet-orange, eyes burning with unnatural light, a crackling aura wrapping around her like a second skin. Violet didn't flinch. She tilted her head, still pressing down as Shez strained against her blade.

- Interesting. – she murmured just as Shez slashed upward, forcing Violet back for the first time.

The air between them hummed with power. Shez panted, her purple aura flickering like dying embers. Violet's smirk didn't waver.

- Special powers, eh? – she mused, tilting her head. – Colour me impressed.

Shez wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, grinning through labored breaths:

- Your turn. Show me yours.

- Don't know what you're talking about. – Violet said lightly, twirling the Brave Sword.

- That night in the forest. – Shez pressed, circling. – When you killed that bandit leader? Your sword vanished after. Just for a second, but I saw it.

- Guilty. – Violet paused. Shrugged.

A sigh. Then she extended her free hand. Blue light erupted from her palm, coalescing into Shooting Star, its blade shimmering like captured starlight. Shez's eyes widened.

- I knew it!

The sword vanished as quickly as it appeared.

- Wha—? Why not use it? – Shez demanded. – Chicken much?

- Don't need to. – Violet said, rolling her shoulders. – And someone might be watching.

- You already draw suspicion beating people bare-handed! – a beat. Then Shez's grin turned sly. – So... can you shapeshift too?

- Maybe. But I'll only show you in a private room. – Violet matched her smirk.

Shez's face flushed crimson. Then she barked a laugh:

- Okay, okay. 1:1 on mocking.

In the next heartbeat, Shez vanished. Violet's eyes flickered with genuine surprise*clang* Her blade intercepted Shez's strike millimeters from her ribs, reflexes perfect.

- What?! – Shez gasped.

- Told you I don't need it. – Violet's grip on her wrist was iron.

With a vicious twist, Shez's second blade clattered to the ground. Then Violet pivoted and slammed Shez into the dirt with a 180-degree vertical spin. The impact knocked the air from Shez's lungs. Her aura snuffed out, hair and eyes snapping back to normal as she wheezed:

- Okay... ow.

The training grounds lay in eerie silence after the clash, dust settling between them. Shez groaned, rolling onto her back as the last remnants of her transformed state faded. Violet stood over her, offering a hand, not out of courtesy, but amusement.

- Still alive? – she asked, smirk firmly in place.

Shez grabbed her wrist, letting Violet yank her upright with surprising ease:

- Barely. – she grumbled, rubbing her sore shoulder. – You fight like a demon.

- Funny you’d say that. – a flicker of something unreadable passed through Violet’s eyes.

Shez shot her a sharp glance but didn’t press. Instead, she bent to retrieve her fallen blade, sheathing it with practiced motions:

- So. That sword of yours.

- What about it?

- It’s not just some fancy magic trick, is it? – Shez crossed her arms. – You summoned it like it was part of you.

- It’s complicated. – Violet shrugged, but there was a tension in her shoulders now.

- Everything about you is. – Shez muttered. Then, with a sudden grin, she added. – Guess that’s why I like you.

- You’ve got a weird definition of ‘like.’

From the shadows at their feet, Mavka’s voice slithered into the air, lazy and smug.

- She’s not wrong.

- The hell was—? – Shez jumped, eyes darting around.

- Nothing. Just the wind.

Shez didn’t look convinced, but before she could argue, the distant sound of approaching footsteps cut through the tension.

Catherine’s voice rang out, sharp with suspicion.

- What in Seiros’ name was that noise?

- Just a friendly spar. Right, Shez?

- Yeah. Real friendly. – Shez hesitated, then matched her grin.

- Uh-huh. Rhea wants to see you, Violet. Now. – Catherine’s eyes narrowed.

- Duty calls. – Violet shrugged.

As she walked past Shez, their shoulders brushed, brief, deliberate.

- Next time. – Shez murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. – You’re showing me that ‘private’ trick.

- Keep dreaming.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 – A Violet Massacre

Two weeks later. Violet was, as usual, the last to arrive. She nudged the door open with her boot, arms crossed as she leaned against the frame:

- Sorry I’m late. Saw a cute cat near the stables. Couldn’t resist giving it a scratch.

The room’s atmosphere was thick enough to choke on. Catherine’s fingers drummed against Thunderbrand’s hilt. Shamir’s stare could’ve frozen a volcano. Even Alois wasn’t cracking jokes.

- Sorry.

- Flayn. – his usually composed face etched with something raw. He said, the name brittle. – Has been taken.

- Who? When? – Catherine asked.

- Sometime after midnight. Her room was undisturbed, bed made, no signs of struggle. – Seteth’s voice frayed at the edges.

- Professional work, then. No evidence? – Shamir’s eyes narrowed.

- No ransom note? No demands? – Gilbert stroked his beard.

- Nothing. – Seteth’s knuckles whitened. – Which means they want her alive… but…why?

- Where do we start? – Violet asked.

- Question everyone. Search everywhere. Find her. I beg you. – Seteth’s gaze pinned her.

Violet barely made it ten steps outside before a gloved hand seized her arm.

- You. – Dimitri loomed over her, his blue eyes sharp as shattered ice. – You’re new here. And Flayn vanishes the same week you start patrolling the dorms?

- Wow. – Violet didn’t pull away. – Jumping to conclusions and bad math. Two-for-one special? – she tilted her head. – I was with Catherine and Shamir last night. Drinking. Ask them.

His grip tightened, then released:

- I… apologize. – He rubbed his temple. – This is unbecoming of me.

- Nah. You’re just worried. – she jerked her chin toward the classrooms. – Your class searching too? Mind if I tag along?

-…very well. – Dimitri hesitated. – But stay where I can see you.

- Aw, Prince Charming’s protective.

They nearly tripped over Shez sprinting around a corner.

- Violet! Finally someone useful. – she panted, bracing her hands on her knees. – Been looking all over for you.

- See anything suspicious last night?

- Manuela was hauling something creepy near the infirmary. Looked like one of Jeritza’s masks.

- Professor Jeritza? Now that I think about it. he’s been absent all day. – Dimitri stiffened.

- Guess we’re checking his room.

Jeritza’s door swung open with a whine. Manuela lay sprawled on the floor. Dimitri crouched, pressing two fingers to her neck.

- Alive. Just unconscious.

Ashe lifted a big hole near the bed:

- Uh… everyone? There’s a hole here.

- Shouldn’t we wait for the Knights? – Mercedes clasped her hands.

- Hey, I am the Knight. – Violet smirked. – Flayn might be in danger. – she glanced at Dimitri. – Well? Your princely call.

Dimitri knelt beside Manuela, checking her pulse once more:

- I'll take her to the infirmary. The rest of you, be careful. – his gaze lingered on Violet. – Violet, please.

- Hey, don’t worry. I’ll get your cubs back in safety.

Without waiting for a reply, she hopped down into the dark passage, the Blue Lions scrambling after her. The tunnel was narrow, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and something metallic. Annette’s fire spell flickered in her palm, casting jagged shadows on the walls:

- This place is creepy. – she whispered.

The tunnel opened into a vast underground chamber, its high ceiling lost in darkness. Torches lined the walls, their flames unnaturally still.

- What is this place? – Annette gasped.

- More importantly, who are they? – Felix’s eyes darted across the room.

Figures clad in dark robes emerged from the gloom, their movements synchronized, weapons glinting. Violet cracked her neck:

- Looks like we’re crashing a cult meeting. Everyone, play nice.

Then they noticed. A knight in black armour, his mask a skeletal reaper’s grin, stood at the far end of the chamber. The air around him seemed to warp, as if reality itself recoiled.

- Nice mask. – Violet called, waving. – Is it Halloween already?

Ashe’s breath hitched:

- T-that’s the Death Knight! The one they say—

-…was in the Mausoleum. – Felix finished, blade drawn.

- ‘Death Knight’? – Violet smirked. – Wow. Someone’s really into their edgy phase.

The Death Knight didn’t react. Instead, he took a few steps to Violet.

- You…

- What, something on my face? – Violet tilted her head. – Sorry, didn’t have time to take care of it this morning. – she stepped forward. – Where’s Flayn?

The Death Knight’s mask tilted slightly, as if amused.

- Find me… and find out.

Then he was gone. Silence. Then Sylvain whistled:

- Okay, that was terrifying.

- Ok, kids. Stay vigilant as we move forward.

Violet’s sharp eyes caught the faint shimmer to their right, a warp tile half-hidden beneath centuries of dust. She crouched, tracing its edge with a gloved finger. The glyphs etched into the stone pulsed weakly under her touch.

- Huh. Convenient.

- Is that… a warp tile? Here? – Annette leaned in, squinting.

- Looks like our edgy friend’s not the only one who likes dramatic entrances. – she glanced at the group. – I could pop over alone, but. – she shot Felix a pointed look. – That’d be suspicious, right?

- You’re not fooling anyone. How do you even know what that is? – Felix’s scowl deepened.

- Contrary to popular belief, I do read. – Violet rolled her shoulders.  – Those boring books in your library? Yeah, some of us actually finish them.

- And you just happened to memorize ancient warp mechanics? – Ingrid folded her arms.

- What can I say? – Violet smirked. - I’m a woman of many—

-…bad habits? – Felix muttered.

-…talents. – she finished, flipping her hair. – Anyway. Here’s the plan: Mercedes, Dedue, Ashe, you three take the tile. Scout ahead, see if it leads to Flayn or a back exit.

- J-just us? – Ashe’s eyes widened.

- Yep. – she counted off on her fingers. – Mercedes keeps you alive, Dedue smashes anything in your way, and you. – she flicked Ashe’s forehead. – Spot the traps before they spot you. Easy.

- Oh, a little adventure! How lovely. – Mercedes clasped her hands together, serene.

- Understood. – Dedue gave a single nod.

- And what about the rest of us? – Sylvain whistled.

Violet jerked her thumb toward the shadowed archway ahead:

- We’ll take on the main hall. Try not to die before we regroup. Though with me by your side, it’s quite problematic, unless you really really good at killing yourself.

They moved. The battle began. Felix’s blade flashed, cutting down another mercenary, but his glare was fixed on Violet’s back as she strolled ahead like this was a leisurely stroll.

- Are you ever going to take this seriously? – he snapped, kicking a thief toward Sylvain. – Flayn could be—!

- Partially. – Violet called over her shoulder, not even turning.

- They could be hurting her. Is this a game to you? – Felix’s sword hand trembled.

Violet paused. For the first time, she looked back and the ice in her stare made Felix freeze mid-step.

- You have no idea what it looks like when I’m 100% serious. – a beat. Then she shrugged, the cold vanishing under her usual smirk. – But saving Flayn? Yeah. That part’s non-negotiable.

Felix opened his mouth.

- Incoming! – Ingrid yelled.

Another wave of enemies surged from the shadows: archers nocking arrows, thieves flipping daggers. Violet didn’t even draw her sword. Instead, she shoved the nearest mercenary into Annette’s line of fire, sidestepped an arrow, and, while the students were busy, leapt clean over the next cluster of foes, boots barely grazing their heads as she landed and kept walking.

- Wha—? Hey! – Sylvain gaped after her.

But Violet was already gone, vanishing down a side passage.

Steel groaned as Violet kicked open another door, the sound echoing through the empty chamber beyond. To her right, a gaping hole dropped into darkness that she jumped over. And there. More enemies. Mages. Brawlers. All turning toward her. She glanced over her shoulder. No students in sight.

- Finally.

Her smile twisted. A snap of her fingers and Mavka unfolded from her shadow, shifting into a perfect replica of Violet, down to the last strand of hair. Violet extended her hand. Shooting Star materialized in a burst of blue flame, its edge humming with pent-up energy. Then.

BOOM

A shockwave of power erupted, shaking the chamber. Violet’s body warped: blue aura licking like wildfire, hair streaking violet blue, eyes burning with azure fire.

Mavka’s copy grinned, cracking her knuckles, repeating after Violet.

- Now. – Violet said. – We’re actually serious.

- W-what are you—? – the nearest mage stumbled back.

Violet’s sword flashed:

- Don’t worry. It will be quick.

A shockwave rocked the dungeon, sending pebbles skittering across stone. Sylvain caught himself against the wall.

- The hell? Cave-in?

- No... that felt intentional. – Ingrid steadied herself, spear at the ready.

- The enemy magic? – Annette looked at the ceiling.

- Whatever it is, we're too far to help. Keep moving. – Felix's eyes darted down the darkened corridor.

The brawler charged first, muscles coiled, fists raised. He blinked. His arms hit the ground before he did. Violet’s boot crushed his throat before a scream could escape. The others froze. Then they ran.

- Too late.

Ten fell in the time it took to draw a breath. Limbs severed, spines shattered, throats slit mid-step. Mavka’s copy moved in eerie sync, her borrowed blade a silver blur.

This wasn’t ‘Mia’ side students were familiar with. This was Violet. Her true power.

Five more crumpled like puppets with cut strings. Then silence. The air itself seemed to warp, pressure mounting until even the torch flames stood still. Then Violet disappeared. For one suspended heartbeat, the remaining enemies stood frozen, eyes wide. Then she reappeared.

*click*

The sound of Shooting Star sheathing was their death knell. Bodies separated at joints they didn't know were cut. A spearman's torso slid from his hips. An archer's raised bow arm toppled while the rest of him remained standing. She looked around:

-…maybe overdid it. – she mused, flicking blood from her sleeve.

The next door exploded inward. There, the Death Knight. Flayn lay beside him, unconscious but breathing. No words. No theatrics. Violet moved. Her blade carved into his ribs before he could react. He groaned, laughed, the sound wet and guttural.

- More—

Her sword arm blurred for the decapitating strike and froze mid-swing as a new figure warped in the corner.

- Halt. – the armored man's voice brooked no argument. – You're having too much fun.

- We're not... done... – Death Knight's chuckle bubbled with blood.

- We are.

A pulse of dark energy and both vanished. Violet’s aura snuffed out. Hair and eyes bled back to normal as she knelt beside Flayn, fingers pressed to her wrist. A steady pulse. She exhaled.

Violet's shadow pooled naturally at her feet. She wiped blood from her cheek with a thumb.

- Had fun?

- Finally we could fight without restraints. – Mavka's voice was a purr from the darkness.

Later the students appeared in the room. Mercedes was the first through and the first to collapse, her knees hitting the blood-slick stone with a wet smack. Her gloves came away red. Annette's hands flew to her mouth, a high-pitched whimper escaping through her fingers. Even the men froze. Sylvain dropped his spear. It clattered loudly in the silence. Felix's sword arm trembled for the first time in his life. Dedue took a single step back, unthinkable for the immovable vassal.

The chamber looked like a butcher's nightmare. Severed limbs draped over shattered furniture. A head leaned drunkenly against the far wall, eyes still wide. The floor was red, not with patches, not with spills, but covered, like paint poured from a bucket. And there. Violet emerged from an adjoining room, Flayn cradled gently in her arms, pristine white robes untouched by the carnage. She blinked at them:

- You look like you saw a ghost.

- Did... you...? – Felix's throat worked. He gestured weakly at the abattoir.

- No. – Violet deadpanned. – They just killed each other. Of course it was me.

- I said be serious—! – Felix's voice cracked.

- I was. They threatened Flayn, it was the right thing to do. – she interrupted, shifting Flayn's weight. – Flayn's safe. That's what matters.

A beat. Then:

- The Death Knight? – Felix managed.

- Ran away. – she strode past them, boots leaving sticky prints. – Let's go. She needs a real healer.

As she passed, Sylvain let out a shaky laugh:

- Deadly woman... – his usual smirk was nowhere to be found.

Ingrid and Felix turned identical glares on him.

- We are not telling anyone about this. – Felix said.

- Dimitri should know. – Dedue's bass rumble cut through.

- Absolutely not—

- It's better. – Dedue insisted, helping Mercedes up. – For his safety.

Felix opened his mouth. Closed it. Swallowed bile.

-...let's just go.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9 – Consequences of the Actions

Violet turned another page of Fódlan’s Bloodline Chronicles, her fingers tracing the faded ink of a Crest diagram. The morning light through the stained-glass windows painted her hands in fractured colors, red like the blood she’d spilled, blue like the fire she’d unleashed. The creak of the library doors interrupted her thoughts. Seteth stood in the threshold, his posture rigid, his usually composed face lined with something unreadable. Violet closed the book with a soft thud.

- Come to scold me? – she asked, tilting her head. – Or thank me?

Seteth approached, each step measured. When he spoke, his voice was low, strained.

- Flayn is alive because of you. For that… you have my utmost gratitude. – his hands, clasped behind his back, trembled faintly. – The students were quite clear. You cut through the enemy forces alone to reach her.

- Just doing my job. – Violet’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

A beat. Then Seteth unclenched his fist and started talking:

- Yesterday. We scouted the place underground. We…saw that…We assumed this was you. – his voice dropped to a whisper. – Who are you?

- Just a girl who’s been restrained too long. – Violet leaned back, stretching her arms behind her head.

Seteth’s jaw tightened. The answer didn’t satisfy him, but he let it go.

- As a token of gratitude for saving Flayn. – he said slowly. – I will… suspend my suspicions. But. – his gaze hardened. – Do not repeat what happened down there. The students are terrified.

Violet’s smirk faded.

- Mercedes spent the night in the infirmary. – Seteth continued. – Annette and Ashe haven’t spoken a word since. Even Dimitri admitted the others are ‘distracted.’

Violet looked away, her fingers tapping the book’s cover:

-…sorry. Didn’t realize it’d shake them up that bad. – she meant it.

Silence stretched between them. Then Seteth’s eyes flicked to the tome in her hands:

- You’re interested in history?

- I’ve read history in every— – she caught herself. – …Every book I could find here.

Seteth’s eyebrow arched, but he sighed instead of pressing:

- Consider yourself relieved of duties this month. A personal thanks.

- No. – Violet shook her head. – Send me somewhere. Somewhere the kids won’t have to look at me while they… process. The Western Church, maybe. I’ll investigate. Quietly. Or not. Your call.

Seteth studied her, then nodded:

- Very well. But. – he turned to leave, throwing one last warning over his shoulder. – Do not overdo it. We don’t want problems from you.

The library doors clicked shut behind him. Violet exhaled, reopening her book. From the shadows beneath the table, Mavka chuckled.

- Aw. And here I thought you enjoyed the mess.

- I did enjoy it. – she held it up like a shield, her voice a murmur barely louder than the settling parchment.

- Obviously. – Mavka purred. – But the little lambs’ bleating was… unexpected.

- I’ll think of something. Make it right. – Violet’s thumb pressed hard into the page, creasing the corner.

- They’ll forget.

The book snapped shut. Violet exhaled through her nose, staring at the stained-glass reflections splashed across the table.

- Bad move. – she admitted quietly. – But the temptation…This power’s still new. I wanted to see.

- And you did.

- Yeah. – her laugh was hollow. – At what cost?

Violet descended the stairs, her boots scuffing against worn stone. The setting sun bled through the arched windows, painting the corridor in hues of rust and gold, colours that almost hid the blood still caked under her nails.

- Violet.

Dimitri stood at the base of the steps, his broad frame blocking her path. The usual warmth in his blue eyes had hardened to flint. She didn’t stop:

- Your Princeliness.

- What happened last night? – he sidestepped, forcing her to pause.

- The mission. – she said. – Flayn’s safe. That’s all that matters.

Dimitri’s gauntlet creaked as his fist tightened:

- The others haven’t slept. Ingrid keeps checking over her shoulder. Ashe nearly fainted when a pot clattered in the dining hall.

Violet’s smirk faltered. She turned fully to face him, the fading light catching the shadows under her eyes:

-...sorry. – the word was uncharacteristically soft. – But you don’t need to worry. I won’t hurt any of your little lions. – she tapped his chest right over his heart. – This? – her voice dropped. – Only for enemies.

Dimitri studied her face, the downward tilt of her lips, the way her fingers trembled slightly before she shoved them in her pockets. For the first time, he saw past the snark: regret.

- I’ll… speak to the others. – he said at last. – Assure them you’re not a threat.

- Good. – Violet’s smile returned, but it was smaller. Gentler. – That’s why you’re their leader. Why I like you.

Her hand clasped his shoulder, a fleeting touch, before she brushed past him, her footsteps echoing down the hall. Dimitri didn’t turn to watch her go.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10 – Confession by Steel

The oak doors exploded inward, splinters raining onto the stone floor. Violet stood in the wreckage, her Shooting Star resting lazily on her shoulder. The bishops, hoods thrown back to reveal faces more suited to dark mages than holy men, froze.

- Knock knock. – she said, grinning.

Silence. Then—

- Sorry to drop in unannounced. – she took a step forward, boots crunching glass from shattered lanterns. – Funny thing, I happened to overhear your little… plan. – her smirk sharpened. – Don’t worry. I’ll leave no witnesses.

Her sword slid free with a hiss.

Miasma erupted from the nearest mage’s hands, violet-black tendrils lashing toward her. Violet laughed, pivoting on her heel as the spell tore through the space where she’d stood. She was a blur darting between curses, kicking off walls like gravity was a suggestion, her shadow peeling away from her feet to slither along the floor.

The mages tracked her, hands glowing, never noticing the inky doppelgänger coiling behind them until—

- W-what the hell—?!

Mavka’s replica of Violet lunged, her borrowed blade carving through robe and flesh alike. The real Violet didn’t pause. No theatrics this time, just efficiency. A stab to the kidney here. A slash across the hamstring there. Bodies dropped like puppets with cut strings. One survivor. She loomed over him as he scrambled backward, robes tangling around his legs.

- Congratulations! – Violet said, tilting her head. – You get to live. Mostly. – she hauled him up by the collar. – The Knights love a good interrogation.

Then her grip tightened. Blue fire flickered in her eyes, just for a heartbeat.

- Oh, and if you mention my dark friend to anyone? – she leaned in, her whisper sweet as poisoned honey. – I’ll let her visit you. Alone.

The mage’s bladder gave out.

The Western Church report slid across Seteth’s desk, its edges stained with dried ink and something darker. Violet lounged against the windowsill, the dying sun painting her in gold and shadow. Seteth didn’t touch the parchment:

Seteth didn’t look up. His fingers traced the broken seal of House Fraldarius:

- Impressive. – he conceded. – Rodrigue is mobilizing his forces as we speak. The Western Church’s coup is finished. – a beat. Then his quill snapped between his fingers. – And the methods?

- Just a pile of bodies. Nothing… theatrical. – Violet rolled her shoulders.

Seteth exhaled:

- Your next assignment—

- Let me guess. – she interrupted. – More bandits? Or are we finally hunting those giant monsters Shez me—

- Rhodos Coast.

Her fingers stilled.

- Flayn and I require an escort. – Seteth continued, watching her like a hawk. – The Golden Deer will accompany us. Educational purposes.

A flicker in Violet’s eyes. Shez! Then she smirked:

- Field trip with the Deer? Sounds fun.

- I don’t pretend to understand you. – Seteth’s chair creaked as he leaned forward. – One moment, you carve through enemies like a storm. The next, you’re trading jokes with students as if…

- As if I’m not a monster? – Violet pushed off the sill, boots hitting the floor with deliberate force. – Newsflash: I can be both.

- Flayn insisted you come. – Seteth’s voice dropped. – Despite what she saw.

- I saved her once. – Violet’s spine straightened, she said, low and razor-sharp. – I’ll do it again. Doesn’t matter if it’s a Death Knight, a cult, or a goddess-damned tidal wave.

Silence. Then—

- Good. – Seteth stood, hands flat on the desk. – We leave at dawn.

Violet saluted mockingly and turned to leave.

- Oh, and Violet?

She glanced back.

- Try not to terrify the Deer too much.

- Hey, they already got one monster on their team. What’s the worst that could happen? – her grin was all teeth.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11 – Ocean View

The Golden Deer clustered near the gates, packs laden with weapons and field rations. Lorenz adjusted his cape with a sigh, while Ignatz nervously checked his bowstring for the tenth time. Seteth stood rigid beside Flayn, his gaze scanning the courtyard. Then—

- Move it, losers, the tide waits for no one!

Violet sauntered into view, a striped lifesaver slung over one shoulder, neon pink sunglasses perched on her nose, and a bulging pack that clinked suspiciously of glass bottles. A polka-dot bikini strap peeked out from the top.

The Deer stared. Claude was the first to recover:

- Well. Someone read the itinerary very differently.

Violet pushed her sunglasses up with one finger, eyebrow arched:

- Why aren’t you prepared? We’re hitting a beach, aren’t we?

Seteth’s eye twitched:

- Rhodos Coast is a holy site. – he gritted out. – Not a… resort.

- Could’ve fooled me with the ‘coast’ part. – she muttered, then brightened. – Wait, does that mean no sandcastles?

Flayn hid a giggle behind her hand. Seteth took a deep, centering breath:

- I… may have neglected to specify this is a battle mission. The Western Church has desecrated the sacred grounds.

- Well, that’s a bum. – Violet’s grin vanished. She tossed her lifesaver at Raphael, who caught it on instinct, and unshouldered her pack, dumping it unceremoniously near the smithy. The clank of bottles drew a pained look from Seteth.

As she rejoined the group, she flicked her sunglasses back down:

- What? I look cool in these.

- You look like a bandit who robbed a souvenir shop. – Lysithea deadpanned.

- Thanks, shortcake.

Seteth massaged his temples:

- We’re leaving. Now.

As the group marched out, Shez fell into step beside Violet, grinning:

- So. Got a spare swimsuit in that bag of yours?

- In that bag? Maybe. Ask me again once we return, sweety. – Violet’s smirk was pure mischief.

The salty wind carried the priest's venom across the crumbling stone plaza:

- You heretics, who defile our goddess! – the Western Church leader's robes billowed. – This sacred coast belongs to the true faithful!

Seteth stepped forward, his jaw set:

- You desecrate the very ground you claim to revere. Begone.

- Silence, dog of the apostate! – the priest spat. – Prepare to receive our righteous blades!

Seteth's wings of light flared as he issued orders:

- I will secure the monument. All others, eliminate the surrounding forces! – then looked at Violet. – Flayn stays at your side. Protect her.

The Golden Deer scattered, all except Violet and Shez, who stood flanking Flayn as the Western Church mages advanced. Violet adjusted her sunglasses with one finger, the smirk on her lips at odds with the Brave Sword loose in her other hand. Shez sauntered up beside her:

- So. Do I get a cool nickname too, or—?

- Do I look cool? – Violet interrupted, tilting her shades downward. – Or super cool?

- You look like an overgrown kid who robbed a fisherman. – Shez barked a laugh.

- Ouch. And here I was gonna compare you to Lysithea.

 - Wanna make this a duet? – Shez grinned, twirling her blades.

- Sounds fun. – Violet’s smirk sharpened.

They moved as one. Violet darting left, her sword a silver blur as she carved through a mage mid-incantation. Shez lunging right, twin blades scattering arcane sigils before they could form. Something clicked in Violet’s mind. The glasses. With her eyes hidden…

A flicker of blue flame ignited in her pupils, unseen, as she pushed just a fraction of her demonic speed into her steps. The next mage gasped as she vanished from his sight, only to reappear with her blade at his throat.

- Missed me?

Shez whistled as she kicked a disarmed enemy onto his back:

- Damn. You’re fast today.

- Must be the sea air. – Violet adjusted her sunglasses, the blue in her eyes fading.

Behind them, Flayn’s hands glowed with nascent healing magic, but her gaze lingered on Violet’s retreating shadow.

Violet's head snapped around, just as a swordsman lunged from Flayn's blind spot, steel glinting. Flayn blinked. In that fractional darkness Violet vanished. Air cracked as she reappeared mid-swing, her Brave Sword cleaving through the attacker's ribs before his own blade could descend. The man crumpled without a sound.

- Your brother put me on babysitting duty. – Violet said, flicking blood from her sword. – So relax. You're stupidly safe.

- I never doubted it. – Flayn's startled expression melted into a warm smile.

Then Violet was gone again, a streak of motion as she bounded back toward Shez in three effortless leaps.

Shez was already spinning through two mages, her blades a whirlwind of violet energy:

- Took you long enou—

Violet's sword split the staff of a third mage mid-cast:

- Miss me?

They fought in sync now. Shez ducking as Violet's blade passed over her head to impale a thief. Violet sidestepping so Shez could gut the swordsman behind her. A flicker of blue behind Violet's sunglasses as she tapped her demonic reflexes, just enough to keep the edge, not enough to expose herself.

The last mage slumped into the surf, staining the waves crimson. Violet and Shez stood back-to-back amidst the wreckage, chests rising with steady breaths. Shez was the first to break the silence, spinning a blade lazily on her palm:

- Not bad, partner. We make a scary good team.

- Could've been scarier if someone wasn't tourist-paced. – Violet flicked her sunglasses up with a smirk.

- Excuse you? – Shez whirled on her, grinning. – These stupid shades of yours kept blocking my sightlines!

- Uh-huh. – Violet adjusted said glasses with deliberate slowness. – Tell that to the six guys I had to double-tap.

Shez opened her mouth, then paused. Her smirk turned razor-sharp:

- Speaking of sightlines... Wanna explain how your eyes went glowstick-blue when you vaulted over me?

A beat.

- Oh? Someone pays attention. – Violet's grin didn't waver. She leaned in, close enough for Shez to see her own reflection in the lenses. – But I don't explain my tricks to people who moves at the speed of a sea turtle.

- Asshole. – Shez barked a laugh.

- Flattered.

Seteth ascended from the sky:

- Enough. The coast is secured. Violet, I ask you to go with me.

- Oh, someone’s getting punished. – Shez smirked.

The sea wind carried the scent of salt and ancient stone as Violet approached the weathered monument. Seteth stood before it, his hand resting on the sun-warmed rock.

- Your assistance was most appreciated. – he said, his voice softer than she'd ever heard it. – Perhaps now the Western Church will abandon this place. Still... I have taken the holy artifacts for safekeeping.

A pause. The waves crashed against the cliffs below.

- I must confess. – Seteth continued. – Despite the circumstances... it was good to return here. This coast holds great significance for Flayn and myself.

- What kind of significance? – Violet tilted her head.

- This monument does not merely honor Saint Cichol. – Seteth's fingers traced an inscription worn smooth by time. – It is also... my wife's resting place.

Flayn stepped forward, placing a small hand on the stone:

- You are safe now, Mother. Finally, you may find peace.

- Your mother is buried here too? – Violet's eyebrows rose.

Seteth exhaled deeply:

- You've earned the truth. But this must remain between us. - his gaze met Violet's, steady and solemn. – Flayn is my daughter. My late wife was her mother.

A beat of silence. The wind tugged at Violet's hair.

- I had no idea. – she admitted.

- Certain... circumstances. – Seteth explained. – Make it prudent for us to present ourselves as siblings. There are those who would harm Flayn for the blood she carries. – he glanced down at his daughter, his expression softening. – Mercifully, I appear young enough for the ruse to hold.

- Mother loved this coast. – Flayn smiled faintly. – We came here often to fish together. I would watch for hours as she cast her line.

- And eat everything she caught. – Seteth added, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. – Fish remains your favorite food because of her.

Flayn nodded, her eyes bright with memory:

- I still come to fish sometimes. – Seteth murmured. – Using the techniques she taught me. It reminds me... of how precious those years were. – his voice grew quiet. – How I wish I could return to them.

- We cannot turn back time. – Flayn reached for her father's hand. – We must live fully in the present - that's what Mother always said.

- You're right. – Seteth closed his eyes briefly. – She would tell us not to dwell. – he straightened, the familiar authority returning to his bearing. – Come. Let us return home.

As they turned to leave, Flayn pressed her palm against the monument one last time:

- Goodbye, Mother. I love you. I'll bring flowers next time.

The sea wind carried her words away as they walked back toward the others. The others had departed, their voices swallowed by the rising tide. Violet stood alone before the weathered monument, the last amber light catching the ancient runes. Her shadow stretched long across the stone, longer than it should have.

- So she lost her mother too. – Violet murmured to the empty coast.

Her shadow pulsed. Two pinpricks of crimson light flickered within its darkness for just a heartbeat, there, then gone.

- Still aching over yours? – Mavka's voice was a whisper only Violet could hear.

- I miss her. – she shook her head. – But these months... made the weight easier to carry. Most days.

Another flicker of red eyes in the shadows, quicker this time:

- She'd claw her way out of the afterlife just to brag about you.

Violet's breath hitched. Then she snorted:

- Since when do you do pep talks?

- Since never. – the shadow hissed. The red dots vanished like snuffed candles. – Just hate your moping.

- Half a year since they died. – Violet said to the waves. – Still feels like yesterday. Still feels like forever. – she glanced down at her shadow. – ...Thanks. For not letting me drown in it.

Silence. Then a single crimson flicker.

- Aw. Is widdle Mavka blushing? – Violet grinned.

- I'll strangle you with your own intestines. – Her shadow contorted, twisting violently enough to scatter pebbles.

- Kinky~

The shadow went perfectly, petulantly still.

Violet turned back to the monument, the ghost of a smile on her lips. Somewhere beyond the horizon, the sun finally slipped beneath the waves, but for the first time in months, the dark didn't feel quite so heavy.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12 – The Rot in Remire

Violet shouldered open the door without knocking, her boots scuffing the polished floor:

- So. – she said, dropping into the chair across from Seteth’s desk. – What fresh hell are we diving into this time?

Seteth didn’t look up from his papers:

- Remire Village. – he said, voice tight. – Thirty-seven confirmed cases. Symptoms include: restless movement, violent outbursts, prolonged unconsciousness… and worse.

He slid a sketch across the desk, a villager with veins black as ink, eyes rolled back into their skull. Violet’s smirk vanished.

- Poison? – she asked.

- Unlikely to spread so uniformly. This reeks of dark magic. – Seteth finally met her gaze. – You’ll accompany the Black Eagles. Investigate. Contain. Report.

- Got it. – she stood to leave.

- One more thing.

Violet paused, hand on the doorknob. Seteth steepled his fingers:

Have you considered teaching? The Academy could use someone with your… practical expertise.

A beat. Then.

- Me? A professor? – Violet barked a laugh. – I’m too dumb to teach. Only thing I’m good for is swinging a sword.

- Your library attendance suggests otherwise.

- When do we leave for Remire? – she waved him off.

Seteth sighed.

- Tomorrow dawn. We will find the cause of this. And if possible… a cure.

- Sure, sure. – Violet saluted lazily. – Try not to sound so grim. Might scare the kids.

Steel clashed against steel as Violet and Shez danced across the sparring ring, their blades a blur of silver in the fading light. Violet’s laugh rang out as she ducked under Shez’s swing, tapping the flat of her sword against her ribs.

- Dead again. – she teased, twirling her blade.

Shez groaned, rubbing her side:

- Remind me why I spar with someone who literally vanishes mid—?

A shadow fell across the ring.

- Violet.

Felix stood at the edge of the training grounds, arms crossed. His usual scowl was absent, replaced by something almost resembling neutrality. Violet lowered her sword and stood silent, her eyes guilty.

- Yeah, yeah, the massacre. – he studied her. – We’re over it.

- Wow. – Shez whistled. – Emotional growth. Who cursed you?

- Took time to process. – Felix ignored her, his gaze locked on Violet. – But you’re still an ally. And a skilled one at that.

- Happy to hear it. – she curved her lips into a soft smile. – What about the others?

- Got over it. Some faster than me. – his hand drifted to his sword hilt. – Dedue still glares at you during meals, though.

- Noted. – she tilted her head. – But you didn’t come here just to say I’m not a monster, right?

For the first time, Felix’s mouth twitched, the ghost of a smirk:

- What do you think?

Violet’s smile turned razor-sharp. She tossed her practice sword to Shez.

- There’s only one reason Felix Hugo Fraldarius seeks me out. Try not to cry when I win. – she said, falling into stance.

- You wish. – Felix's smirk was all teeth.

Violet’s sword slid from its sheath with a soft hiss, a rare motion in front of witnesses. Felix’s eyes flicked to the scabbard at her hip:

- Finally stopped insulting your opponents?

- People said it was boring to watch. – she shrugged. – And apparently rude.

- On your go. – his grin was wolfish.

- Nah. You first, pup.

Felix moved. A thrust aimed for her heart. A vertical slash as she sidestepped. A dual-cut combo she weaved through like smoke. A low sweep she vaulted over. Their blades clashed on her counterstrike, steel singing.

- Not bad. – Violet admitted, pressing forward. – Been working on your footwork.

- Learning from the best. – Felix gritted out, shoving her back.

She retaliated with a horizontal slash, restrained, the edge stopping a hair’s breadth from his ribs as he leapt away. Felix didn’t give her time to dwell. He lunged again, and Violet met him strike-for-strike, her muscles coiled with unused power.

Felix staggered back, putting ten paces between them. His breathing steadied as he raised his sword then vanished. Astra. His blade became a silver blur, five strikes in two heartbeats, each aimed with lethal precision. A slash toward her dominant wrist. A thrust at her ribs. A low sweep at her knees. A diagonal cut toward her shoulder. A final strike aimed to graze her cheek.

Violet moved. A tilt of her head to let the first slash pass. A twist of her torso to avoid the thrust. A hop over the sweeping blade. A lean away from the diagonal cut. A slight backward bend, feeling the final strike part the air millimeters from her skin.

Felix reappeared, chest heaving. His eyes widened, then sharpened into a smirk:

- You're better than I expected.

- Wanna see something cool? – Violet spun her sword lazily.

- Try me.

She lunged and vanished. Five strikes in half a heartbeat, her blade a steel storm. A shallow cut across his sword arm. Nerve strike. A controlled tap to his ribs. Would've pierced lung. A slice behind his knee. Tendon warning. A flick at his cheekbone. Drawing first blood. A final thunk of her pommel against his shoulder. Disabling press.

She reappeared, stance relaxed. Felix's knees hit the stone, his sword barely keeping him upright. Blood trickled from his cheek as he panted, knuckles white around the hilt.

Silence. Then.

- Hmph. – he wiped his face, smearing red. – About time someone gave me a real challenge.

Violet crouched in front of Felix, her shadow falling across his kneeling form. Blood dripped from his cheek onto the sand between them.

- You're improving. – she said, tilting her head. – Pretty sure if you fought me from ten years ago, you'd have won.

A beat. Shez's practice sword clattered to the ground:

- Damn. Comparing him to your teenage self? That's next-level mockery.

Violet's fingers twitched.

- Did I say ten? – she straightened abruptly. – Meant five. Sorry. Not thinking straight today.

Felix wiped his face with the back of his hand, smearing crimson across his cheekbone. He ignored the taunt entirely.

- Finally saw it. – he panted, pushing to his feet. – Your real techniques. – his grip on his sword tightened, but his eyes burned with something almost like satisfaction. – Good spar. We're doing this again.

Violet opened her mouth.

- Tomorrow. -he added, and strode off without another word.

Shez whistled:

- Well. Someone just got added to his revenge list.

Violet watched Felix go.

The morning sun had barely crested the walls when Violet strolled up, yawning.

- Before anyone asks, yes, I'm late. – she announced, adjusting her sword belt. – Had to put the puppy in his place again.

Shamir leaned against the gate, unimpressed. Beside her stood two strangers, a grizzled man with a well-worn breastplate and a younger man whose face might as well have been carved from stone.

- Jeralt. – the older man grunted, jerking a thumb at his companion. – And my kid, Byleth. We're tagging along.

- Nice to meet you. – she looked at the young man. No response. Not even a blink. – Ooooh, strong silent type. – Violet crooned, circling Byleth like a shark. – Bet you're fun at parties.

- Save the comedy. – Shamir pushed off the wall. – Edelgard's class is already en route to Remire.

- You sent students into that mess first? – Jeralt frowned.

- They're with Professor Hanneman. – Shamir said. – And the Emperor's heir can handle herself. We move out.

When they arrived, the village burned in jagged silhouettes against the dawn sky. Violet stepped over a writhing infected farmer, her boot pinning his scythe to the dirt as she surveyed the carnage.

- I'll handle the infected. – she called to no one in particular. – Non-lethal, of course, so don’t worry.

She vanished into the smoke. Bernadetta's whimper led her to a collapsed fence. The archer was backed against a smoldering haycart, her bowstring snapped, eyes wide as an infected man lurched toward her. Violet's arm shot out, hauling Bernadetta aside by her collar as her other hand disarmed the attacker with a wrist strike. A chop to the throat dropped him like a sack of grain. Violet tilted her head at the gasping girl:

- Missed me?

Bernadetta's nod was frantic:

- Y-yes! I mean no! I mean—

- Save it. – Violet kicked a fallen pitchfork out of reach. – I will protect you if needed.

A child's scream ripped through the smoke ahead. Violet was already moving.

Violet fell infected villager when she spotted them, armored knights moving with disciplined precision, dark mages chanting in the smoke, cavaliers cutting down fleeing civilians.

- Not villagers. Soldiers. But whose—?

She vaulted over a burning cart, landing beside Edelgard as the princess bisected a swordsman.

- Since when does the plague come with an army? – Violet shouted over the chaos.

- No insignias. – Edelgard’s eyes narrowed. – They’re not Kingdom or Alliance.

A fresh wave of clanking armor approached from the east, until the sea of enemies parted. There. The Death Knight emerged, scythe glinting with unnatural light, his hollow gaze locked onto Violet.

- You take the mooks. – Violet said. – I’ve got a date with edgy over there.

She strode forward. Two cavaliers lunged, her sword flashed left, then right, their spears clattered to the ground alongside their severed reins. Violet didn’t break stride.

- Miss me? – she called to the Death Knight.

- I’ve ached for this. – his voice was a distorted rasp. – To return the pain you gifted me.

- Kinky. – Violet took her stance. – Ok, handsome. Let’s dance.

The Death Knight’s scythe arced toward Violet’s neck. She sidestepped, her sword slashing a clean line across his chest plate. A low, metallic chuckle echoed from his helmet:

- Pain... delightful.

Violet parried his next strike, the impact vibrating up her arms. Then. She vanished. Five strikes in less than a heartbeat.  A cut to his left shoulder. A stab to his ribs. A slice across his thigh. A twist that cracked his mask’s jawline. A final kick to his chest, sending him back. The Death Knight staggered, his broken mask revealing a sliver of pale skin and human teeth. Blood dripped from his thigh onto the dirt.

- An... acceptable retreat point. – he rasped.

- Leaving already? – Violet flicked blood from her blade. – And here I thought you liked me.

Dark energy swirled as he vanished, leaving only hoofprints and crimson splatters behind.

Violet spotted the familiar figure by the windmill, Thomas, the mild-mannered librarian who’d always recommended her those histories on Fódlan’s saints. She approached, lowering her sword.

- Hey, Thomas. What are you doing here?

Thomas turned. His usual gentle smile twisted into something grotesque.

- I’m not Thomas. – dark energy erupted beneath him, swirling in blue-black tendrils. When the magic dissipated, a gaunt man with sunken eyes and a cruel smirk stood in his place. – My name is Solon. – he declared, arms spread wide. – The savior of all!

His hand shot forward, a Death Γ spell crackling at his fingertips. Violet barely sidestepped, the spell scorching the ground where she’d stood. A quick glance around confirmed it, no witnesses.

- Mavka. – Violet muttered. – Playtime.

Her shadow detached, slithering across the dirt toward Solon. Before he could react, it erupted into black spikes, impaling his legs and pinning his arms without piercing anything vital. Solon gasped, more furious than pained. Violet stalked forward, blade glinting:

- What’d you do to Thomas? You’re coming with me. And I’ll carve you into pieces if I have to.

- How… tedious. – Solon’s smirk never wavered.

Darkness swallowed him whole, teleporting away before she could lunge.

- Hey! Come back!

Only the lingering stench of dark magic remained.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13 – To Reveal is to Gain Trust

Violet leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed:

- So. After the Thomas incident... you suspect me now too?

Seteth exhaled through his nose, setting down his quill:

- Unfortunately, yes. – he steepled his fingers. – Personally, I trust you. But my feelings are irrelevant when weighed against the Church's security. Shez is under scrutiny as well. – he continued. – Though at least she's been transparent with her abilities. You, however...

- If I showed you mine, would that help? – Violet's jaw tightened.

- It would be a start.

A long silence.

- Funny. – Violet muttered. – I thought showing this would invite suspicion. – she straightened, rolling her shoulders. – Fine.

Blue aura erupted around her. Seteth's chair screeched as he shot to his feet. Violet's hair bled into violet and blue streaks, her eyes becoming twin cerulean infernos. She extended her hand and Shooting Star materialized in a burst of starlight.

Seteth blinked. Cold steel kissed his throat before his next breath.

- See? – Violet whispered, the blade trembling millimeters from his skin. – If I wanted you dead, you'd have been dust years ago.

The sword vanished. The flames snuffed out. Seteth collapsed into his chair, sweat beading on his brow. His voice was gravel:

- What... are you?

- That's the only freebie you get. – Violet smirked, already at the door. She paused, glancing back. – Well? Less suspicious now?

Seteth's fingers dug into the armrests:

- For now... I have no further questions.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14 – Fódlan in Flames

A month had passed since Solon’s revelation and the shadows grew longer across Fódlan.

In Adrestia, Duke Aegir’s rebellion erupted like a festered wound. The Imperial Army, stretched thin by Remire’s horrors, now faced open revolt in Enbarr’s streets. Edelgard raced south with her Black Eagles, her manifesto of reform drowned beneath the clatter of siege weapons.

To the east, Leicester’s borders hemorrhaged as Almyran warbands crossed the Fódlan’s Locket. Claude abandoned Garreg Mach with half the Golden Deer in tow, including Shez, her mercenary instincts itching for the chaos of border wars.

And in Faerghus, the dagger finally struck home: Rufus Blaiddyd seized the capital, declaring House Fraldarius traitors to the crown. Dimitri’s retinue rode north at dawn, their banners cutting through the blizzard winds.

At Garreg Mach, the silence was deafening.

The afternoon light streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting fractured colors across the stone floor as Dimitri stood before the archbishop’s dais. His gauntlets creaked as his fists clenched.

- I’m told you are sending knights to aid us, Lady Rhea. – he said, voice carefully measured. – I do not wish to sound ungrateful, but… are you certain?

- The Church cannot overlook this grievance. – Rhea’s smile was beatific, but her emerald eyes held winter. – Faerghus has always been under our protection.

- Regrettably, many of our knights were dispatched elsewhere several days ago on another matter. – Seteth stepped forward, his tone clipped. – However. – he paused, glancing at the chamber’s side door. – We’ve assembled a specialized unit. Its captain is someone… familiar to you.

- Someone near to…? Ah. – Dimitri’s eyes widened. The ghost of relief crossed his face. – That is encouraging.

- Since its inception, we have watched over Faerghus as a mother does her child. – Rhea said. – When its peace is threatened, we act.

- I’ve not forgotten your kindness after my father’s murder. – Dimitri bowed deeply. – I swear to repay it.

- One more matter. – Rhea’s voice softened, almost conspiratorial. – A suggestion from the Church.

The afternoon sun slanted through the classroom windows, painting warm stripes across the wooden desks as the Blue Lions clustered around Dimitri. Ingrid leaned against the professor’s podium, arms crossed.

- Interesting. – she said, her brow furrowed. – So Lady Rhea wants all of us to accompany you?

Dimitri nodded, his gloved hand resting on the map of Faerghus spread before them:

- Yes. This time, we’ll have the Knights of Seiros reinforcing us.

- Well, I certainly don’t mind. But Annie… Ashe? – Mercedes clasped her hands together, serene as ever.

- You know I’d follow you anywhere, but… – Annette bit her lip. – House Dominic’s lands are surrounded by Rufus’s supporters. If I join you, it could ruin my family’s standing.

- I’ll go. – Ashe said softly. – It’s… complicated, after Lonato. But I know he’d want me to do what’s right.

- I’m sorry to ask this of you, Ashe. – Dimitri’s voice was thick.

Silence settled over them, heavy with the unspoken truth. This wasn’t just a battle. It was the unraveling of a kingdom.

The classroom door swung open with a creak, cutting through the heavy silence. All eyes turned as Violet leaned against the doorframe, her usual smirk in place.

- Told Rhea I'm tagging along. – she announced, arms crossed. – Hope you kids don't mind a babysitter.

- Thank you for volunteering, Violet. – Dimitri straightened, his posture formal even in his gratitude. – Your skills will be invaluable.

- Got used to you brats. – she waved him off. – Besides... – her fingers tapped against her elbow. – Kinda owe you one.

- A debt? – Dimitri's brow furrowed. – What do you—

- Don't worry about it. – Violet cut in, pushing off the doorframe.

- I'll brief you on the details shortly. – after a beat, Dimitri nodded. – For now, please prepare your equipment.

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving the Lions in silence once more.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15 – Night Before the Battle

The campfire crackled, casting flickering shadows across Dimitri’s face as he stared into the flames. The weight of the coming battle pressed on his shoulders, until Violet’s boots crunched through the frost behind him.

- Enough moping, Dimitri. – she said, nudging his spear with her foot. – You’re gonna rot morale faster than month-old cheese if you don’t pull yourself together.

- Violet? – Dimitri didn’t flinch. – Yes, I suppose this is… pathetic. Perhaps I’ll train. Exercise this malaise away. – a pause. – Sent my uncle a letter. – Dimitri murmured. – Not that he’ll reply. – he stood abruptly. – We march at dawn.

- Listen. – Violet blocked his path, her voice uncharacteristically firm. – I’ll cut through whatever hell waits ahead. That’s a promise.

- I… appreciate that. – Dimitri’s eyes softened.

- Attaboy. – she smirked, punching his armored shoulder.

- Would you... check on the others? I worry for them.

They're tougher than you think. For now, get some rest, princeling. I’ll go check the others.

- Thanks.

Violet found Dedue standing sentry at the edge of camp, his massive frame silhouetted against the moonlight. The usual earthy scent of herbs from his satchel was undercut by something sharper tonight, anger.

- I loathe the grand duke. – he said without preamble, his voice like grinding stone. – He has tried to harm His Highness on countless occasions.

- Damn. – Violet raised an eyebrow. – Didn't expect you to just... say it outright like that.

- Perhaps. His Highness's first military campaign. – Dedue continued. – Was suppressing the western rebellion. Another of Rufus's schemes. Had House Fraldarius not intervened...The assassination attempts never ceased afterward. And after Duscur...

- Dimitri knows, then. What his uncle is.

- Yet still he writes letters. Still he hopes.

Violet found Sylvain and Felix near the weapons rack, the air between them crackling with unresolved tension. Sylvain leaned against a post, his usual smirk nowhere to be seen.

- Hey, cheer up. – Sylvain said, nudging Felix’s shoulder. – Your dad’s worried sick. I know how it feels when people start slinging mud at your family name.

Felix didn’t look up from sharpening his sword:

- Don’t pretend you understand. That trash wouldn’t bother me even if—

- Really? – Violet cut in. – Most folks tend to care when their family gets framed for treason.

- That’s politics now. – Felix spat. – If I got pissed at every slight against House Fraldarius, I’d never stop swinging this sword. – his grip tightened. – But watching him waffle over that damned uncle of his? That tests my patience.

- If you’re so worried about Dimitri, just talk to him. – Sylvain sighed.

- Why the hell is that my job?

- And people call me emotionally stunted. – Sylvain put his hand to his temple.

Ingrid caught Ashe's arm as he checked his quiver, her brow furrowed. Moonlight glinted off her silver braid.

- Are you certain about this, Ashe? – she asked quietly. – Lord Lonato once served the grand duke. This battle will... complicate his legacy.

- Yes. – Ashe's fingers stilled on the arrow fletching. – When he learned the truth about Rufus, he told me to hold fast to what I believed was just.

- Lonato was your old man, right? Sounds like a stand-up guy. – Violet leaned in.

- Thank you. – a small, proud smile touched Ashe's lips. – I hope to be like him someday.

- Good boy.

- That's exactly why I have to do this, Ingrid. No regrets. – Ashe said surely.

Ingrid studied him for a long moment, then nodded:

- Perhaps you're more suited to knighthood than any of us realized.

The campfire's glow painted Mercedes' face in flickering gold as she stared into the flames, her usual serene smile absent. Violet dropped onto the log beside her, kicking up a small cloud of ash.

- What's biting you?

- Oh, Violet? – Mercedes startled slightly. – No... it's nothing. Just thinking.

The silence stretched until Mercedes sighed.

- Do you remember. – she began softly. – When Flayn was kidnapped? That chamber underground...

- Course I do. – Violet said, tossing the splinter into the fire. – Not every day you fight a guy who gets off on pain.

- Not the fight. – Mercedes corrected, twisting her gloves in her lap. – The Death Knight. Do you think... we'll see him again.

- If that freak shows up, I'll put him down before he touches a hair on your—

- That's not what I meant. – Mercedes interrupted gently. – There was something... familiar about him.

- Wait. You know that masochistic bucket-head? Better hope he won’t turn out to be your uncle or something, like Dimitri’s.

Rodrigue Fraldarius stood before the war table, the map of Faerghus pinned beneath his gauntleted hand. He looked up as Violet approached, his weary face brightening.

- Well, now! You must be Violet, the so-called 'Holy Demon in the Kingdom. – he offered a shallow bow, his armor creaking. – Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius. My apologies for dragging you into our kingdom's strife.

- That what they're calling me now? Awkward. – she tilted her head. – Wait. You're Felix's old man, aren't you? Got the same resting scowl.

Rodrigue chuckled, the sound warm despite the shadows under his eyes:

- Indeed! My son speaks of you often. Or rather— – he lowered his voice conspiratorially. – —he grudgingly admits you're formidable.

- Felix? Admire me? That brat would snap his own sword before saying how gracefully I wipe the floor with him. ...but he's not half-bad. Listens when it counts. So yeah. Maybe he's got some taste.

Rodrigue's laughter echoed through the tent:

- Ah, that's my boy. – his expression sobered as he tapped the map. – We'll need every blade to retake Fhirdiad. Might I count on yours?

- That's why I'm here.

Violet caught someone’s sight. She turned to the person, tilting her head, studying his armour

- You’re with the Knights of Seiros too, aren’t you? Sorry, I recognize the uniform, but the name escapes me.

- Gilbert. We’ve never crossed paths on missions before. Though it seems that’s changed now.

- They sent you specifically for this mess. That means you’ve got ties to the Kingdom, maybe even the capital?

- More than some, less than others. But not all of the Blue Lions will march with us.

- Yeah… Annette must’ve had her reasons for staying behind.

- I suppose she did.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16 – Crisis in Firdhiad

Dawn bled across the sky, staining the horizon in hues of gold and crimson. Violet stood at the camp’s edge, her back to the others as she watched the sun climb. The light caught in her hair, threading violet with fire. Footsteps crunched behind her. She didn’t turn.

- Everyone ready? – she asked.

Dimitri halted at her side, his gaze following hers to the sunrise:

- As we’ll ever be.

- Good. Then it’s time for the surprise. – Violet smirked.

She turned on her heel to face the gathered Blue Lions, their expressions a mix of exhaustion and wary curiosity. Without ceremony, she raised her hand. A ripple tore through the air. Blue flame erupted from her palm, twisting, coalescing, until the jagged gleam of Shooting Star seared into existence, its edge humming with otherworldly energy. The sword’s glow painted their stunned faces in cerulean.

- What the—?! – Sylvain stumbled back.

- You have the same power as Shez. – Felix’s hand flew to his own blade, eyes sharp.

- Dunno where Shez’s power comes from. Mine’s… a long story. – she twirled the sword, letting it vanish in a burst of embers before reforming. – And no, I can’t explain more yet. But this? – she pointed the blade at Dimitri, her voice dropping to a vow. – This means you’ll win. No matter what’s waiting in Fhirdiad.

Silence. Then.

- Awfully bold, volunteering our victory. – Felix muttered, though his grip on his hilt loosened.

- Please. I don’t back losers. – she strode past them, tossing a glance over her shoulder. – And yeah, I volunteered ‘cause I like you brats. So congrats, your kingdom’s safety just got a demon’s guarantee.

- Violet. – Dimitri met her eyes, something like the ghost of a smile at the edge of his mouth. – Thank you.

- Save it for when we’re drinking in the capital. – she winked.

The scent of torch oil and damp stone clung to the air as the Blue Lions gathered before the towering castle gates. Distant shouts echoed from the barricaded streets, Rufus' forces had turned the city itself into their fortress.

- Scouts confirm the enemy has entrenched themselves among the civilians. – Gilbert adjusted his gauntlet with a grimace. – They mean to fight from the alleyways, using the people as their shield.

- Vile. – Rodrigue's gauntlet clenched around his sword hilt. – To dishonour Faerghus' very streets with such tactics...

Dimitri stared at the flickering lights in the castle windows, his jaw tight:

- A victory drenched in our people's blood is no victory at all. We move swiftly, but carefully. – he turned to Dedue. – Still no response from my uncle?

- None.

- As I expected.

- Your Highness. – Gilbert stepped forward, his voice low. – When the moment comes, can you truly strike down your own blood?

- I will do what must be done.

Ingrid approached, her pegasus armor gleaming dully.

- The troops are ready, Your Highness.

- The people have waited long enough. – Mercedes touched a hand to her chest, her smile gentle but urgent. – Let's not make them wait any longer.

- Yes. We—

- You're supposed to be our commander, not a mourner at your own damned war council. – Felix scoffed. – Try looking like you actually want to win.

- My apologies. The weight of this moment... But you're right. Let us begin.

The gates of Fhirdiad groaned open, revealing a city choked with fear. Townsfolk huddled in doorways as enemy soldiers lurked among them, blades drawn. Then they closed

- Just as we feared. They’re using the people as shields. – Ingrid clenched her reins.

- Then we start with their safety. – Dimitri’s voice cut through the tension. – Eliminate the perimeter guards. Quickly.

- Let’s split up. Two groups to cover more ground. – Sylvain flashed a grin.

- I’ll go with you, Red. – Violet stretched her arms.

- Finally wear you down with my charm? – Sylvain winked.

- Nah. – She smirked. – You just look like the one who’d get stabbed without backup.

The guards never stood a chance. Violet moved like a storm given form, one moment there, the next a violet-blue blur. Shooting Star flashed, its edge a crescent of light as she carved through the first line before their swords even cleared their scabbards. A soldier lunged; she sidestepped, her elbow meeting his jaw with a crack. Another swung, she vanished, reappearing behind him, her knee driving into his spine. A volley of arrows rained down. She didn’t flinch. With a flick of her wrist, her sword became a whirlwind, deflecting shafts midair before she lunged forward. The last guard barely gasped before the flat of her blade sent him crumpling into the dirt. Dust settled. The perimeter was silent.

Dimitri surveyed the scene:

- Secure. Now, open the gates! Protect the people as we advance!

The plaza swarmed with enemies. Then Violet disappeared. A violet arc sliced through the air. One soldier dropped. Another spun, searching, only to collapse as an invisible force shattered his kneecaps. A third raised his axe, then froze, Shooting Star’s tip hovering at his throat before the hilt knocked him unconscious. Civilians gasped as soldiers fell like puppets with cut strings, untouched by the chaos. Felix scoffed, stepping over a groaning officer:

- This is Itha’s finest? Pathetic.

Near the main gate, Sylvain and Ingrid drove the remaining forces back. With a final shove, the portcullis shuddered open. Sylvain saluted Dimitri with a smirk:

- Sorry, Your Highness! Stole your moment.

Violet landed beside them, her hair flickering with residual energy:

- Streets are clear. Your turn, Princeling.

The path to the castle lay open.

The gates of Fhirdiad groaned open once more, but this time, it was not for retreat, it was for war. The Grand Duchy’s reinforcements poured into the streets, a tide of steel and desperation. At their head, Viscount Kleiman barked orders, his face twisted with the arrogance of a man who still believed victory was possible. Felix snarled, his fingers twitching over his sword:

- We need to cut them down before they box us in!

- Your Highness, we must divide our forces. – Rodrigue surveyed the battlefield, his voice steady. – Multiple threats demand multiple answers.

- This is pathetic. Can we just end this already?

Violet stretched her arms, cracking her neck with a grin:

- I’ll take one of those groups alone. You handle the rest.

Before anyone could argue, she was gone, vanishing in a burst of violet-blue light.

She reappeared directly in front of Viscount Kleiman’s advancing unit, Shooting Star resting lazily on her shoulder. The soldiers skidded to a halt, eyes wide.

- It won’t be really fun. – Violet mused, tilting her head. – But Dimitri’s worried, so I’ll leave some of you alive.

Then she moved. The first soldier didn’t even see her. One moment, he was raising his spear; the next, the flat of her blade smashed into his ribs, sending him flying into three others. The air itself seemed to scream as she broke the sound barrier, a shockwave rippling outward as she blurred through the ranks.

A swordsman swung, she ducked, her leg sweeping out in a crescent kick that shattered his greaves. Another fired an arrow; she caught it midair, snapped it between her fingers, and flicked the pieces into the knees of two archers.

Kleiman shouted something, but his voice was lost in the chaos. Violet spun, Shooting Star carving a violet arc through the air. The ground trembled as she landed, the force of her impact sending a dozen men tumbling like leaves in a storm. She wasn’t even breathing hard. Kleiman stumbled back, his sword shaking in his grip:

- W-what are you?!

She just smirked and vanished again. A fist to the gut. A pommel to the temple. A spinning heel kick that sent the last conscious soldier crashing into a wall. And then, silence. Kleiman was on his knees, gasping. Violet loomed over him, her hair flickering with residual energy.

- You look like the boss. – she said. – So you get to live. For now.

A single chop to the neck, and he crumpled. She grabbed him by the collar and dropped him in the backlines in a few jumps reaching it.

While Dimitri clashed with Rufus in the throne room, Violet wove through the streets like a vengeful spirit. She flickered from alley to plaza, rooftop to square, cutting down any lingering resistance before they could regroup. A mercenary raised his axe, down he went. A knight tried to rally his men, his helmet rang like a bell as her knuckles met steel.

The civilians watched in awe as the enemy fell like wheat before the scythe, untouched by the storm of violence. By the time Dimitri seized the castle, the battle was already over.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17 – Execution

The crowd gathered before the castle steps was eerily silent, the air thick with the scent of blood and the fading light of dusk. Violet stood beside Felix, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. The wind tugged at her hair, still faintly shimmering with the remnants of her earlier battle. Felix glanced at her, his voice low:

- Something you feel like saying?

Violet’s eyes remained fixed ahead:

- No...

At the top of the stairs, Rufus knelt, his once-proud form now broken. Dedue and Gilbert stood like sentinels behind him, their faces grim. The setting sun painted the scene in hues of gold and crimson, as if the heavens themselves were watching.

- All traitors get put to the sword. – Felix exhaled sharply. His voice was cold, matter-of-fact. – It’s his duty, as king.

Dimitri stepped forward then, a blade in his hand, his gaze sweeping over the assembled crowd before settling on his uncle. His expression was heavy, not with rage, but with sorrow.

- Final words? – Dimitri asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

- None for you. – Rufus chuckled, dry and hollow. He lifted his head, his eyes meeting Dimitri’s with something almost like pity. – But tell me something, boy. Does it trouble you to slay your own kin?

A flicker of pain crossed Dimitri’s face. He had expected defiance, curses, not this. Not a question that cut deeper than any blade.

- What a surprise. – Rufus smirked. – I did not think you capable of sympathy, craven monster that you are.

For a heartbeat, the world seemed to hold its breath. Then Dimitri stepped forward, raising his sword.

- Yes... – he admitted softly. – But either way, I do what I must.

Rufus closed his eyes, turning his face toward the dying sun:

- Well. To perish by your hand... It is a fate that I much deserve.

The sword fell. A single, clean stroke. Silence. Rufus’ body slumped to the ground, his blood staining the stone beneath him. Dimitri stood over him, his face tilted toward the darkening sky, as if seeking absolution from the stars themselves.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18 – A Proposition

The royal study was bathed in the dim glow of candlelight, the scent of ink and parchment heavy in the air. When Violet pushed open the door, she found Dimitri hunched over a desk, his eyes shadowed by exhaustion.

- You still working? – she asked, leaning against the doorframe. – Looks like you haven’t slept in days.

Dimitri didn’t lift his gaze from the papers:

- Never mind that. – His voice was rough, strained. Finally, he looked up. – Violet. I have a proposition for you.

- Oh?

- Join my army. Not as a mere soldier, as a captain. Lead a unit of your own.

- Leading’s not my best suit. I work better alone. You saw me fight. You know the rest of your army wouldn’t be able to keep up.

-…I understand. Then at least consider serving in my regular forces. Your strength would be invaluable.

- Can’t. I’m a Knight of Seiros. Pretty sure Rhea wouldn’t be thrilled if I just up and left.

- Of course. I should have considered that.

- Cheer up, Your Kingliness. If something happens to the Kingdom, I’ll come running. – she tapped her temple. – I don’t get your politics, but I’ve read the books. Church and Kingdom are allies. If something will happen, they’ll send me.

Dimitri’s shoulders relaxed slightly:

- How long will you stay?

- Leaving tomorrow.

He reached for a sealed letter on his desk:

- Then I’d ask you to deliver a message to Lady Rhea.

- What’s in it? – Violet eyed it.

- Spy reports. – his tone left no room for further questions.

She took the letter, tucking it into her coat:

- Sure thing. Get some sleep, Dimitri. Crown’s heavy enough without you adding eyebags to the mix.

The door clicked shut behind her. Alone again, Dimitri stared at the empty space where she’d stood, the candlelight flickering across the grooves of his frown.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19 – Thunder and Storm

The grand halls of Garreg Mach were quieter now, the usual chatter of students absent. Violet stood before Rhea, the sealed letter from Dimitri resting between them. Rhea regarded her with serene calm:

- The students from the three houses have returned to their homelands. You will not encounter them again for some time. – her voice was measured, almost distant. – As such, your missions involving the Academy will be fewer.

- Figured as much.

- Before you deliver your report. – Rhea continued. – I ask that you wait a moment while I read this. – she took the letter, her emerald eyes scanning the contents with quiet intensity.

Violet leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, watching the flicker of candlelight dance across the Archbishop’s face. After a long silence, Rhea looked up.

- It seems your presence in the Kingdom was not the only matter requiring attention. – she said. – Dimitri’s spies have noted... unusual activity in the western regions. The Western Church is stirring once more.

- Again? Didn’t we just deal with them?

- Their persistence is troubling. – Rhea admitted. – Which is why I am sending you, alongside Catherine, to investigate.

- Wait, with Catherine? I’ve handled Western Church missions alone before. Why the sudden need for backup?

- You rarely undertake missions with our other knights. This will be an opportunity for you to... familiarize yourself with them.

Violet opened her mouth to protest, then exhaled sharply:

- Fine. I guess you’re right. – a smirk tugged at her lips. – Though I’d rather go with Alois. At least he’s funny.

- Perhaps next time.

The cobblestone streets of the western town were narrow, winding between timber-framed houses that leaned against each other like drunken comrades. The air smelled of damp hay and distant smoke. Violet strolled with her arms crossed behind her head, her boots scuffing against the uneven stones. Beside her, Catherine scanned the rooftops, her hand never far from Thunderbrand’s hilt. Violet smirked, breaking the silence:

- So, Catherine. Your relationship with Rhea. Why’re you so protective of her? Are you like. You know—

- Hah! – Catherine barked a laugh. – No, not what you’re thinking. When I was a student, my class was sent to kill monsters. Got ambushed. I nearly died. – a pause. – Lady Rhea saved me. – she kicked a pebble, watching it skitter into the gutter. – Later, after graduation, I was framed for plotting to kill the king. Had to flee the Kingdom, live as an outlaw. – a grim smile. – Then she saved me again. Took me in, made me a knight. ‘Cassandra’ died that day. I became Catherine. Her sword.

- Wow. – Violet whistled. – That sounds awfully familiar. – she tilted her head. – I was born Violet, then went by Mia as a merc. Now I’m back to Violet.

- Why the switch?

- Could tell you one day. Not now. – Violet’s grin didn’t reach her eyes.

- Don’t trust me? – Catherine’s jaw tightened.

- And you?

- Fair point.

The wind picked up, carrying the scent of rain. Violet stretched, rolling her shoulders:

- Rhea sounds pretty sweet. But something about her...

Catherine whirled on her, Thunderbrand half-drawn, her voice a blade’s edge:

- Do you doubt her?!

- No. – Violet didn’t flinch. – Just a feeling. Can’t pin it down. – she nodded at Catherine’s sword. – Calm down. And get your hand off the glowstick.

Catherine exhaled sharply, sheathing the relic with a click:

- Sorry. But don’t speak ill of Lady Rhea in front of me. Ever.

- Sheesh. Someone’s touchy.

A crow cawed overhead. Catherine pointed ahead to a dilapidated chapel, its steeple crumbling:

- We’re near their hideout. Stay vigilant and—

-…silent. I know.

The chamber stank of burnt incense and something metallic, blood, maybe, long dried into the stone floor. Violet crouched on the balcony ledge beside Catherine, peering down at the gathering below. The men wore robes, but these were no holy vestments, the fabric was too dark, the embroidery twisting into serpentine patterns that seemed to move in the flickering torchlight. Dark mages. Not bishops. Violet's lip curled. She'd seen their kind before.

- The southern Rowe region is primed. – one hissed, his fingers steepled. – But the Empire needs a reason to move.

- Are our agents in position? – another asked, his voice rasping like a dagger on bone.

- Yes. And the Empire?

- They'll react when they see fit. Not before.

Violet leaned toward Catherine, her whisper a breath:

- How's the time?

Catherine's grip tightened on Thunderbrand. A single shake of her head. Not yet. The mages continued, oblivious:

- Once the—

- Now!

Catherine moved. She dropped from the balcony like a lightning strike, Thunderbrand carving a blazing arc through the dark. The first mage barely had time to widen his eyes before the relic sword split the air, and his throat.

Violet was already a step ahead. She kicked off the railing, her boot crashing into the second mage's ribs with a crack that sent him plowing into the floor, stone cratering beneath him.

- Rhea's dogs! – a third spat, scrambling back, hands already glowing with cursed magic.

The battle in the chapel had been swift and brutal. Five dark mage, now four corpses and one trembling survivor. Violet hadn’t even drawn her sword. She’d smashed one into the wall hard enough to crack stone, while Catherine’s Thunderbrand had cleaved through another with a searing flash. The fifth had tried to flee, but Violet appeared before him in an instant, blocking the door with a grin.

- Looks like you just won the lottery. – she said, grabbing him by the collar.

The prisoner knelt before Rhea, sweat dripping down his face as he spilled secrets under the weight of the Archbishop’s emerald gaze.

- A revolt… in Rowe. – he gasped. – Planned to give the Empire an excuse… to invade.

Violet crossed her arms:

- We should send word to Dimitri. I already wrote that Rowe would be the target, now we know why.

Rhea nodded, her voice serene but edged with steel:

- Keep him in the cells. I will ensure a messenger is sent once this meeting concludes.

As they left the chamber, Violet lingered in the hallway, her eyes narrowing.

- Catherine… you think this is their real goal?

- What do you mean?

Violet tapped her temple:

- Edelgard’s not stupid. Launching an attack over some half-baked rebellion? Doesn’t add up.

- Could be a decoy. – Catherine crossed her arms. – Or a provocation. Maybe they’re testing the Kingdom’s defenses.

- Yeah… or something worse. – she turned toward the dormitories. – I’m hitting the hay. Tomorrow’s gonna be a long damn day.

The rebellion in Rowe had been crushed, but its echoes rippled across Fódlan like cracks in thin ice.

The Adrestian Empire wasted no time in its condemnation. Imperial heralds spread word of Kingdom aggression, claiming that Faerghus soldiers had crossed the border, slaughtering Imperial troops under the pretense of quelling dissent. The message was clear: This will not stand.

The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus denied the accusations with cold precision. Their operation had been contained within their own territory. Any Imperial casualties were either fabricated or the result of trespassing—perhaps even collusion with the rebels. But in the halls of Fhirdiad’s war rooms, the truth mattered less than the excuse it provided.

Tensions rise.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20 – Southern Church

Year passes since the leaders of three houses, students not so long ago, became leaders of their countries. Violet takes on more and more missions associated with the Western Church. However, she is bothered by some other question the Church didn’t give answer to yet.

The afternoon light filtered through the stained-glass windows of Rhea’s private quarters, casting fractured colors across the stone floor. Violet stood before the Archbishop, arms crossed, her usual smirk sharpened by a year’s worth of simmering frustration.

- Funny. – she said, tilting her head. – I don’t get my orders from Seteth anymore. Just you. Surprise, surprise. Love me so much more than Catherine?

Rhea didn’t look up from the parchment she was reading:

- It is far more convenient this way, wouldn’t you agree? – her voice was serene.

- Sure. So, what’s the mission? Another ‘diplomatic intervention’? Or just more cleaning up after the Kingdom’s mess?

Finally, Rhea lifted her gaze:

- You are to eliminate the Bishop of the Southern Church.

A beat of silence. Then.

- You’ve got to be kidding me. – Violet’s voice was low, dangerous. – A year. A whole damn year. And instead of hunting down the freaks who slithered into the Academy, Solon, Kronya, those monsters, you’re sending me after some two-bit bishop? – her fingers twitched, her shadow flickering unnaturally at her feet. – The Kingdom’s spies could handle this in their sleep. But those things, the ones who infiltrated your own damn monastery, you’re just sitting on your hands?

- Violet. Please, calm yourself. – Rhea’s expression remained calm, but her grip on the parchment tightened.

- Don’t ‘calm yourself’ me. – Violet snapped. – You’re acting like they weren’t a threat. Like they aren’t still out there. What the hell are you waiting for? For them to waltz in here again?

- Seteth has been investigating. But their organization is elusive. We have little to go on.

- Bullshit! You’re the damn Archbishop. If anyone can dig up secrets, it’s you.

Rhea exhaled slowly:

- We are working on it. But these things take time.

Violet stared at her, then let out a sharp laugh:

- Patience. Right. – she exhaled, forcing her shoulders to relax. – ...fine. Why the Southern Church?

- They were once a branch of the Central Church. The Empire dissolved them years ago. Now, they are officially recognized by Adrestia once more, but their goal is not faith. They seek to replace us. They are extremists, not clerics.

- How do I find this bishop? – Violet tapped her fingers against her arm.

- Grégoire von Varley. – Rhea said. – The name should suffice. – she folded her hands. – This must be swift. And without witnesses. That is why I ask you.

Violet’s smirk returned, though it lacked its usual mischief:

- Swift and no witnesses. Got it. – she turned to leave, then paused at the door. – ...Rhea. Do me a favor. Next time, send me after Solon. Kronya. Them. I’ll dig up what your spies can’t.

She didn’t wait for an answer. The door clicked shut behind her. Alone, Rhea exhaled, her fingers pressing into the desk until the wood groaned.

The air in the Empire was thick with the scent of rain and damp earth. Violet moved like a ghost through the manicured gardens of the Varley estate, her disguise flawless, blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, a half-mask obscuring her face, her eyes dimmed to a mundane blue, all covered by a cloak. The guards had seen nothing. The walls might as well have been smoke. One moment, she stood outside the grand manor, the moonlight glinting off the windows.

A blink.

She was inside. The house was quiet, save for the distant clink of silverware. Violet slipped through the halls, her footsteps silent, her breath steady. Then, through the crack of a half-open door, she saw him, Grégoire von Varley, seated at the dinner table with his wife.

He was older than she expected. His wife, elegant, smiling, poured him wine, her laughter soft. Violet’s fingers twitched. Someone’s husband. Someone’s father. She clenched her jaw.

- Mission first. – she muttered. A whisper to her shadow. – You remember the plan?

- Of course. – Mavka’s voice slithered through her mind, amused.

- Then we wait.

Minutes passed. The meal ended. Grégoire kissed his wife’s hand, excused himself, and climbed the stairs to his chambers. Violet watched the woman retreat to another room, then. Disappeared. A gust of wind. A flicker of movement. Grégoire paused at the top of the stairs, frowning. The hall was empty. He shook his head and continued.

Violet watched from the doorway as Grégoire von Varley settled at his desk, unaware of the shadows creeping closer. She gave Mavka a single nod. The demon slithered forward, unseen, a wisp of darkness slipping between his lips, coiling down his throat, into his chest.

His hand flew to his neck. He tried to gasp, but no sound came. His eyes bulged as he staggered to his feet, fingers clawing at his chest where an invisible force clenched around his heart.

He turned and there, in the dim light, he saw only the cold blue glow of Violet’s eyes, watching without pity.

One beat. Two. His knees buckled. He collapsed, lifeless, before his desk. Mavka withdrew, slipping back into Violet’s shadow just as the door creaked open behind them.

- Honey, are you okay?

Violet was already gone. Outside, the night air was still. Then—

A scream tore through the manor, raw and shattered. Violet didn’t look back.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21 – The Aftermath of the Kill

The halls of Garreg Mach felt heavier than usual as Violet trudged toward Rhea’s chambers. Her steps lacked their usual bounce, her shoulders slumped under an invisible weight. When she pushed open the door, her voice was flat, devoid of its usual mischief.

- You called?

Rhea looked up from her desk, then paused, her serene expression faltering at the sight of Violet’s hollow gaze:

- Yes, but… what’s wrong?

- Rough mission. – Violet muttered, not meeting her eyes.

Rhea gestured to the chair across from her:

- Sit. Your work was flawless. The Empire declared it a heart attack. No suspicion falls on the Church. – she folded her hands. – You’re to be given a month’s leave. Consider it a reward.

- Good. – Violet’s voice was brittle. – I need that. – she stood abruptly, her fingers digging into the armrests. – Who was he? – the question burst out of her, sharp and sudden. – The name. Varley. I’ve heard it before. Where?

Rhea blinked:

- You must know of the family from Bernadetta. Grégoire was her father.

A beat of silence. Then

- What? – Violet’s voice cracked. She staggered back a step. – What did you just say?

- Bernadetta’s full name is Bernadetta von Varley. – Rhea frowned. – I assumed you knew.

Something in Violet’s chest shattered. Her breath hitched. Her vision swam.

- What have I done? – the whisper was so faint even Rhea barely caught it.

- Violet? – Rhea rose from her seat, concern flickering across her face. – Are you—

- YOU SENT ME TO KILL BERNADETTA’S FATHER! – Violet’s voice tore through the room, raw and trembling. Her raging eyes erupted in blue flame, her hair bleeding into streaks of violent azure. For a heartbeat, her form flickered.

Then she slammed her eyes shut, fists clenched until her nails drew blood, the wound immediately healed. The transformation halted. The flames dimmed.

When she opened her eyes again, they were human. Empty.

- I need to reflect on that. – she said, her voice eerily calm.

She turned and walked out without another word. Rhea stood frozen, her hand half-outstretched. The door clicked shut.

Chapter Text

Chapter 22 – Guilt

For two weeks, Violet had been a ghost in the library. She sat surrounded by towers of books, histories of Fódlan, treatises on theology, Imperial noble lineages, pages flipped with mechanical precision. Her eyes scanned words but absorbed nothing. The usual fire in her gaze had dulled to embers, her expression blank, as if her soul had been scooped out and replaced with parchment and ink.

Seteth found her there, half-buried in the shadows of the shelves.

- Violet. – he said, his voice measured.

She didn’t look up. He opened his mouth to repeat himself, but her voice cut through the silence first, flat and lifeless.

- I hear you. What do you want?

A beat.

- I heard what happened. – he said quietly. – I’m… sorry. I didn’t know Rhea would ask this of you.

- Yeah. – her fingers stilled on the page. – It’s like if I killed Flayn, and you didn’t know who did it. What would your reaction be? – her tone was clinical, as if discussing the weather.

Seteth’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists, but he exhaled sharply, forcing his anger down.

-...we found clues about Those Who Slither in the Dark.

- How convenient. – Violet let out a hollow laugh. – Right after I murdered Bernadetta’s father.

- We don’t have the full picture yet. – Seteth admitted, ignoring her bitterness. – But we believe we’ve located one of their strongholds. In the Empire.

- Oh? – Violet finally looked up, her eyes empty. – So you want me to kill another Imperial official? Who’s next? Ferdinand’s father? Caspar’s? Or maybe the Emperor herself?

Seteth didn’t rise to the bait:

- If you’re interested. – he said, turning to leave. – The information is in my office. I’ll be there.

The library door creaked shut behind him. Violet stared at the book in her hands. The words blurred.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23 – First Look at the Neon City

Violet stood at the mouth of the cavern, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and something sharper, metal? Burning oil? She couldn’t place it. The entrance yawned before her, a jagged maw of stone that led into perfect blackness.

- So. The old man wasn’t lying. – she muttered, adjusting the half-mask covering her face.

She stepped inside. The darkness swallowed her whole. For what felt like hours, she walked, no torches, no moonlight, just the sound of her own breath and the occasional skitter of something unseen in the shadows. Then, just as her patience began to fray, a glow pulsed in the distance. Violet slowed, her hand drifting to her sword. The light grew brighter. Brighter. Until.

- Woah.

She lowered her mask, her eyes widening. The cavern opened into a city of nightmares and miracles. Towering walls of smooth, metal-like stone stretched into the darkness above, etched with glowing runes that pulsed like veins of blue and violet fire. Pathways lined with blinding white lights cut through the space, so bright they left afterimages when she blinked. Strange metal pipes coiled along the ceilings and floors, hissing steam, throbbing as if alive.

Violet reached out, brushing her fingers against one of the glowing scripts.

- What is this? – she whispered.

Nothing in her world. No magic, no relic, no demon had prepared her for this. This wasn’t just advanced. This was unholy.

Violet moved through the eerie glow of the neon city, her boots silent against the what it felt like metalic floor. The place was deserted, too deserted. Every instinct screamed that this was a trap, but the emptiness gnawed at her.

She passed more of the glowing scripts, the alien syllables twisting like serpents. They tugged at her memory, she’d seen this before, somewhere. Not in Fódlan. Maybe in some world she’s been to? She couldn’t remember.

She shoved the thought aside. Then she saw them. Colossal shapes loomed in the vast chamber ahead, towering over her like sleeping giants. Their forms were sleek, angular, forged from some impossibly smooth metal that drank in the neon light rather than reflected it. Violet’s fingers twitched.

- What the hell are you? – she whispered.

They didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just stood, silent and ominous, like the bones of long-dead beasts. Then voices.

Violet melted into the shadows, pressing herself against a curved wall as she tugged her half-mask back into place. Peering around the corner, she saw them: figures in dark robes, their movements sharp, purposeful.

At first glance, they looked like the Western Church mages she’d cut down before, same gaudy embroidery, same arrogant stride. But something was off. She couldn’t put her finger on it, it was just a feeling. A smirk curled her lips.

- Same stylist, huh?

Violet knew she should leave. This place was a deathtrap, and she had what she came for, confirmation that Those Who Slither in the Dark were hiding here, in this nightmare city of metal and light.

But the scientist in her, the mercenary who’d seen too many worlds, wanted to stay. Wanted to dig. Then.

- What are you looking at?

The voice slithered into her ear like a knife between ribs. Violet’s blood turned to ice. How? Her senses were flawless. Years of training hardened her instincts. Yet someone had gotten close enough to breathe on her. She spun, just in time to feel cold steel punch into her gut.

Kronya’s grin was a crescent of madness:

- You know, it’s rude for rats to just lurk around.

Violet glanced down at the blade buried in her stomach:

- That’s a cute knife.

Kronya blinked, then followed her gaze. The knife was there. But when she looked back up, Violet’s eyes were smirking.

- Tch—! – Kronya tried to shove it deeper, but Violet’s hand snapped up, seizing her wrist.

- Tickles. – she said and shoved her away, the blade sliding free.

The wound sealed itself before the blood could even drip. Kronya’s grin faltered. Violet didn’t give her time to process it. Her boot crashed into Kronya’s face, sending her skidding across the polished floor. By the time the assassin looked up, Violet was already gone.

Outside the mountain, Violet leaped and the world blurred. Her body tore through the sky, wind screaming in her ears as she broke the sound barrier, the force of her flight carving a trench in the clouds behind her. The city shrank in the distance, its unholy glow fading into the horizon.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24 – War Shadows

Violet stood in Seteth’s office, arms crossed, her usual smirk absent. The weight of what she’d seen in Shambhala still pressed on her mind. The metal titans, the mages from the past, Kronya. She laid it all out for him, sparing no detail. Seteth listened intently, his expression unreadable until the end. Then, to her surprise, he nodded:

- Impressive work. You’ve uncovered more than we ever could’ve hoped.

- Yeah, well… – Violet exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. – I owe you an apology. For doubting the Western Church missions. Turns out you were right, they were connected to something bigger.

- I understand your hesitation. – Seteth said, his voice quieter than usual. – But unfortunately, even with this knowledge, there’s little we can do for now.

- I could drop back in and smash the place to rubble. – Violet’s eyes flashed.

- And risk walking into a trap? – Seteth countered. – They may have already relocated after your visit. No. We need to observe, plan.

She scowled but didn’t argue. Then Seteth folded his hands:

- Your next mission is in the Kingdom.

- What? – Violet blinked. – No. I just got a lead on them. I should be digging deeper, not—

- Edelgard is preparing for war. – Seteth interrupted. – Whether against the Church or the Kingdom, we don’t yet know. The Empire hasn’t connected you to Grégoire’s death, but that doesn’t mean they won’t strike preemptively.

- Then shouldn’t I stay here? – Violet shot back. – If the Empire attacks the Church, you’ll need me. Dimitri’s army is already strong enough.

- If war comes, we’ll relocate to the Kingdom. – Seteth said firmly. – Dimitri has already offered sanctuary. For now, you’re more valuable there.

Violet fell silent, her jaw tight. Then, after a long moment, she sighed.

-...fine. But I’ll miss you, old man. – a ghost of her smirk returned. – Tell Flayn I said goodbye.

Seteth’s stern expression softened, just slightly:

- You’ll serve the Church and the Kingdom well. That’s all we ask.

Violet turned to leave, but not before muttering under her breath:

- Yeah, yeah. Just try not to get yourselves killed without me.

Chapter Text

Chapter 25 – Declaration of the War

The year is 1181. A year had passed since the Officers Academy closed its doors. Dimitri, now King of Faerghus, had spent every waking moment trying to mend his fractured kingdom, rebuilding villages, negotiating with restless lords, and tempering the rage that still simmered beneath his crown.

Edelgard, Emperor of Adrestia, ruled with an iron will, her reforms cutting deep into the Empire’s ancient traditions.

Claude, ever the enigma, led the Leicester Alliance with a smile that hid a dozen schemes.

For a time, the three former classmates had danced around one another, their borders tense but unbroken. Then, the first tremor. Edelgard declared war on the Central Church of Seiros, branding them the root of Fódlan’s stagnation. The Church evacuated Garreg Mach, fleeing north to the Kingdom under cover of night.

And the Empire’s armies will soon surge across the border, striking the southern reaches of Faerghus in a blitz of steel and fire. Soon, but not yet.

The cold wind whipped through the gathered nobles as they stood before Dimitri, their expressions ranging from grim resolve to thinly veiled frustration. Felix stepped forward, his usual scowl in place:

- Pardon my lateness, Your Majesty.

- You needn’t worry, Felix. – Dimitri shook his head. – I know your duties are many. Though I’m afraid we could not wait for you to begin the discussion.

- This is about the Empire’s declaration of war against the Central Church, yes?

- Indeed. – Dimitri nodded.  – As you’re aware, we have already begun accepting refugees from Garreg Mach. But a few days ago, I received a confidential request from Seteth asking us to protect the higher-ranking members of the church, including Lady Rhea herself. –  his voice hardened slightly. – Of course, we’d only meet this eventuality were Garreg Mach to fall. As it stands, we find ourselves quite literally stuck between the Empire and the church. I’m not sure how much longer we can remain neutral.

Viscount Elidure, a lean man with sharp features, cleared his throat:

- If I might, Your Majesty. Troubling as it may be, I believe it prudent for us to reject this proposal from the church outright. Offering them shelter will only serve to provoke an invasion from the Empire. This matter of the Southern Church concerns me as well, but I believe we have more important matters to be fussing over at the moment.

- Your counsel is much appreciated, Viscount Elidure, but I assure you things are not as cut and dry as you make them out to be. – Margrave Gautier, Sylvain’s father, let out a derisive snort. He gestured sharply. – The mandate granted to the king of Faerghus, and all the lords who serve under him, is given legitimacy only by the grace of the church. Are we to renounce the very heart of this Kingdom simply because we shudder at the thought of invasion?

Viscount Elidure fell silent, his jaw tightening. Margrave Gautier pressed on, undeterred:

- War will always come at one point or another, and some degree of suffering is purely inevitable. You know this as well as I, Viscount.

- You dare to speak of suffering, do you? When the blaze of war will not scorch your lands in the north as it does ours?

- I would normally agree that those of us from the northern territories should hold less sway in this discussion. – Felix cut in, his voice edged with impatience. – But if Garreg Mach were to fall, the warfront would not halt in the west. – he turned to Dimitri. – Your Majesty, what of House Rowe, or Galatea? Or the others in the south?

- Not a word from Count Rowe as it stands, but I did receive a missive from Count Galatea. – Dimitri sighed. He pulled a letter from his coat. – It read: ‘My people are not fools enough to rejoice in the surrender of their territories to invaders. There is no morality in turning our backs on the institution at the very foundation of our lives. We must support the church as they have supported us.’

- Your Majesty, we owe a great debt to the Central Church for their role in quelling the uprising a year ago. – Gustave stepped forward, his voice steady. – To not repay such generosity in kind would risk weakening the trust of your vassals.

- And if that happens, we might find ourselves right back in the same mess as before. – Felix muttered under his breath. – They lack the Crest of Blaiddyd, but there’s no small number of nobles who might crawl out of the woodwork claiming royal blood. The Kingdom’s already seen the turmoil and division such claimants can bring after the death of King Klaus.

- But Duke Fraldarius! – Viscount Elidure threw up his hands. – Surely we are better served attempting to head off the very real and imminent war at hand instead of debating hypothetical unrest?

- I don’t want my people to suffer the pain of conflict. – Dimitri’s voice cut through the tension like steel. – But does anyone here really think the Empire will simply stop if we appease their every demand? Suppose we do let the Empire take the archbishop. Then what?

- I imagine the Empire plans to install their own bishop in Lady Rhea’s place. – Gustave said. – I fear I’ve heard nothing good concerning either the man himself or his teachings. They purport to be an arm of the Church of Seiros, but the Southern Church is nothing more than a mouthpiece for the Empire at large.

- In other words, – Margrave Gautier nodded. – rejecting the Central Church in favor of this new Southern one would be no different from flat-out accepting Imperial rule. It’s hard to say just how they would treat our kingdom were such events to unfold. Though I imagine it would involve heavy taxation for the express purpose of bleeding Faerghus dry. And filling the Imperial coffers.

Felix let out a sharp exhale. Dimitri raised a brow:

- Do you have something to add, Duke Fraldarius?

- Not really, no. I was just wondering how long we were planning to continue this tedious charade. The question’s simple: do we hand over our kingdom and subject ourselves to Imperial rule, or not?

A beat of silence.

- I believe the margrave has been quite clear as to what will happen if we give in to the Empire’s demands. – then Dimitri straightened, his voice firm. – We’ve all been informed of the rapid reformation their region has undergone. Many aspects of which I admire, I’m not ashamed to say. But an old, stubborn land like ours isn’t suited for such tempestuous change. Radical new freedoms are not what the people of Faerghus need right now. They need stability. Steady improvement of their daily lives. And real, lasting change that can only come from a solid foundation.

- Sounds like Your Majesty has made up his mind, then. Just say the word and we’ll leap into action. – Felix smirked.

- Ahem. The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus will hereby offer asylum to the Church of Seiros.  Everyone, sharpen your blades and prepare for the battles ahead. – he turned to his most trusted. – Gustave. Dedue. Make to ride at once. Our intentions must be made clear, not only to the church and the Empire, but to Count Rowe as well. And all the other lords who failed to answer my summons.

- Understood, Your Majesty. – Dedue bowed.

- What about the Imperial invasion to the south? They might as well invade us any day, once we declare our support for the Church. – Felix looked at Dimitri.

- I have dispatched some troops there, but don’t worry about the quantity. I have someone, who is fit for the mission.

Dimitri knocked lightly before entering Violet’s quarters. She was lounging on a chair, boots propped up on the table.

- Your Princeliness. – she drawled. – To what do I owe the honour?

Dimitri ignored the jab, his expression serious:

- The Empire is to invade the southern territories. I need you to hold them off.

- All alone? – Violet’s smirk widened.

- Your strength is more than enough. – he replied. – And you won’t be entirely unsupported, some of our knights are already en route.

- Tell me, Dimitri. – she tilted her head, studying him. – Do you care more about your people… or the Church?

- Forget that thought. – his jaw tightened. – I have faith in you.

Violet chuckled, standing and sheathing her sword in one smooth motion:

- Fine. How much of my power can I use?

- Just… – Dimitri met her gaze. – …keep it clean. No unnecessary slaughter. We’ll need prisoners to exchange later.

- No gory fireworks. Got it.

As she strode past him toward the door, Dimitri added:

- Violet. – she paused, glancing back. – Come back alive.

- Hey, it’s me we’re talking about, Dimitri. I’ll be fine.

Chapter Text

Chapter 26 – Massacre at the Southern Border

The village was a charred nightmare. Homes burned. Bodies littered the streets, civilians, cut down where they stood. The air reeked of smoke and blood. Violet stepped through the carnage, her expression eerily calm.

- Hmm. – she mused, tilting her head. – Dimitri said no unnecessary slaughter. – a pause. – But could he actually hold back if he saw this?

Her shadow twisted, Mavka’s voice slithering into her mind:

- No. I do not think he would.

- Then let our demonic selves thrive in blood tonight. – Violet’s lips curled into a grin.

With a shuddering breath, she let go. Her hair bled into streaks of violet-blue, her eyes igniting with azure fire. Shooting Star materialized in her grip, its edge humming with raw power. The air around her rippled as her aura erupted, a storm of cerulean energy. Then she moved. To the Empire’s soldiers, it was like death itself had blinked. One moment, the streets were empty. The next, a flash of blue, a scream cut short.

Violet carved through them like a hurricane, her sword a blur. Soldiers fell before they could raise their weapons, their armor splitting like parchment. Blood painted the cobblestones in arcs, but Violet didn’t stop. A house burned ahead, flames licking at the roof. Without breaking stride, she swung Shooting Star in a wide arc, the force of the slash tore the air itself, extinguishing the fire in a gust of wind.

- Knights! – she called, her voice echoing unnaturally. – Search for survivors!

Then she was gone again, a specter in the chaos. The Empire’s troops scrambled, shouting orders, forming ranks. Useless. Violet danced between them, her blade a blue streak of annihilation. This wasn’t war. This was punishment.

While Violet painted the streets in blood, Mavka slithered through the darkness, a predator savoring her prey. To the Empire’s soldiers, death came in two forms: the blue flash of Violet’s blade, or the unseen horror of the demon in their shadows. One man gasped as something cold and wet forced itself down his throat. He clawed at his neck, choking, Mavka filled his lungs like black water, stealing his breath. Just as his vision tunneled, the pressure eased. He sucked in a desperate gasp. Then the spikes came. From the inside. Dark tendrils ruptured through his ribs, his throat, his eyes, shredding him in a grotesque fountain of gore. His comrades turned at the sound, only to see his corpse twitching on a throne of his own bones.

Another soldier screamed as Mavka surged up from his shadow, impaling him through the stomach, slowly, letting his weight drag him down the spike like meat on a skewer.

- Shhh. – the demon whispered, her voice the scrape of nails on stone. – You’ll die when I’m bored.

The village lay in ruins, the acrid stench of smoke and blood thick in the air. The Empire’s forces were gone, slaughtered to the last man where they stood, their bodies strewn like broken dolls.

Violet’s blue aura flickered as she sheathed Shooting Star, her hair slowly fading back to its usual violet hue. She turned to the Kingdom knights, who stood frozen, their faces pale with shock.

- Check the civilians first. – she ordered, her voice cold but firm. – Treat anyone still breathing. Then you can look for enemy survivors. – a dark smirk twisted her lips. – If there are any left by the time you’re done.

The knights didn’t argue. They scrambled to obey, fanning out through the wreckage. Violet exhaled, glancing at her shadow:

- Mavka. Help them evacuate the wounded to the medics in the rear.

- How merciful of you.

- Shut up. Just do it.

Without another word, she vanished, a blur of motion darting ahead of the knights, deeper into the smoldering village.

Violet stood atop the ruins of a shattered watchtower, the wind tugging at her cloak as she stared down at the Imperial commanders across the smoldering border. Their forces had retreated, what remained of them, but their officers lingered, watching her with a mix of fear and defiance. She didn’t move. She didn’t speak. But her message was clear.

- You want your dead? – her silence seemed to say. – Dig them out of your own soil. Not ours.

The Imperial commanders hesitated, then turned away, barking orders to their men. They would not step foot on Kingdom territory again. Not while she stood there.

By the time the knights regrouped, the border was silent. Violet was gone. Behind them, the survivors, 40 imperial troops, pulled from the carnage, were being carried toward Fhirdiad. Some would live. Some would not.

Chapter Text

Chapter 27 – Trump Card

The doors of the war room groaned as Violet stepped inside. The air was thick with tension, the scent of parchment and candle wax mingling with the faint metallic tang of armor. Rhea, Seteth, Catherine, and Flayn stood around the war table, their expressions unreadable. Violet’s gaze flicked over them, lingering for just a moment on Flayn before she smirked.

- Well, well. Look who’s all here. Safe and sound, even though I only left you half a year ago.

- Violet. How did the mission go? – Dimitri stood at the head of the table, his eyes fixed on her.

Silence. Then.

- Forty bodies. – she said flatly. – For your prisoner exchange.

Dimitri exhaled, his shoulders tightening:

- I’ve heard the reports. I understand your reasoning, but this slaughter will only provoke the Empire further.

- Let them come at me, then. – Violet’s eyes flashed. Her voice was a blade’s edge. – They attacked civilians, Dimitri. Children. If anything, I showed restraint. – a bitter laugh. – The only reason those forty are alive is because you asked for prisoners.

The room seemed to hold its breath. Then Dimitri nodded, his voice low but firm:

- I understand. Completely. – he met her gaze without flinching. – In your place, I would have done the same. Had you not intervened, more innocents would have suffered. For that, you have my gratitude.

Violet blinked, caught off guard. She’d expected reprimand, debate, not this. Rhea remained silent, her emerald eyes inscrutable. Seteth frowned but said nothing. Catherine shifted, her hand resting on Thunderbrand’s hilt, while Flayn simply watched, her expression unreadable. Violet scoffed, crossing her arms:

-...yeah, well. Don’t get used to me playing nice. So what’s the next move?

- We reinforce the southern border. But you, you’ll stay behind.

- Why?

- Because you are our trump card. – he said, his voice steady. – I need you to return to the Church. Investigate. Find out who’s left, and if they’re alive. If any Imperial troops will be there, you know what to do.

- Or I could just crush the Empire for you. Right now. Alone.

- That wouldn’t be victory. Nor would it bring peace.

- Peace? – Violet’s laugh was sharp, mocking. – How many of your own soldiers, how many civilians are you willing to let die for that peace?

Silence.Then.

- You’re not wrong. – Dimitri admitted, his voice low. – But if I asked you to slaughter our way to victory, I wouldn’t be a king. I’d just be a puppet master pulling your strings. – he exhaled. – You’ll join us when the time comes.

Violet stared at him. For a moment, something flickered in her eyes. Uncertainty? Frustration? Then she turned on her heel and left without another word.

Chapter 27x – Hubert

For two weeks, Violet waited. The Monastery stood in eerie silence, its damaged halls echoing with the ghosts of students long gone. She made no effort to hide, flashing her demonic aura in bursts, lighting the sky with crackling energy, as if daring the Empire to come. And then, finally, they took the bait.

Hubert emerged from the shadows, his pale face half-lit by the unnatural glow of her power. His unit fanned out behind him, weapons drawn, but his smirk never wavered.

- And here I thought who could be playing with lightning in this ruined place?

- Took you long enough. – Violet grinned.

- What do you want? – Hubert’s red eyes narrowed.

Then, he blinked. A gust of wind. Cold steel pressed against his throat. Behind him, his soldiers collapsed, their bodies hitting the ground before they could even scream.

- You see, Hubert. – Violet whispered, her breath chilling his ear. – This was just a warning. – her blade bit into his skin, drawing a thin line of blood. – I don’t know what Edelgard’s playing at. But I do know you won’t win this war. Not with me standing beside Dimitri.

- Then what do you want? – Hubert didn’t struggle.

- Unfinished business. – she hissed. – Kronya. Solon. Those Who Slither in the Dark as you called it.

Hubert exhaled:

- We know little more than you. They’re an ancient civilization. Their goal is to purge Fódlan of Sothis’s influence.

- Funny. – Violet’s grip tightened. – That sounds awfully like your Emperor’s mission.

- Our goals align… for now. – Hubert’s voice dropped to a whisper, so quiet even Violet strained to hear. – But we have no intention of keeping them as allies once the Church falls.

A beat. Then Violet pulled her sword away:

- That’s all I wanted to hear.

She turned to leave, but Hubert called after her, his voice sharp:

- Was it you? The one who killed the Southern Church’s bishop?

Violet froze. For a second, the air itself seemed to still. Then she vanished.

Chapter Text

Chapter 28 – Assault on Arundel

The dim candlelight of Dimitri’s chambers flickered as Violet leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

- You called? – she asked, her tone casual, though her eyes gleamed with curiosity.

Dimitri looked up from the map sprawled across his desk, his expression weary but resolute:

- Yes. I want you on the next mission.

- Finally, you see something in me! – a smirk tugged at her lips.

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair:

- I thought... with your power, you were better suited for tasks the rest of us couldn’t accomplish. But you were right. I need you with us, to secure victory with fewer losses.

- I... apologize for last time.

- It’s fine. – Dimitri said, shaking his head. – You weren’t wrong. From now on, you’ll fight alongside us.

- Good. So, what’s the operation?

- We take the fight to Arundel’s territory. – Dimitri said, his voice low. – It’s time we counterattack the Empire. You'll secure the enemy bases in these territories near Arundel’s domain. Cut off their reinforcements before our main assault begins.

- Separating me from the group again? – she tilted her head.

- Only because you’re the only one who can do it alone.

- Flattery won’t make me go easier on them.

- I’d expect nothing less. – he replied. – Once you’re done, regroup with us here, where we’ll begin our full assault.

- Fine. But if I finish early, I’m not waiting around.

- Just leave some for the rest of us. – Dimitri exhaled through his nose, the closest he’d come to laughing in weeks.

- No promises.

The battlefield stretched before Violet, silent save for the distant rumble of gathering troops. The Empire’s soldiers were closing in, but for now, she stood alone, her cloak fluttering in the wind, her gaze fixed on the horizon. She smirked.

- Mavka. – she called.

Her shadow twisted, the demon’s crimson eyes blinking open within the darkness:

- What now?

- Time to invite a new guest to our little team.

- …what?

Ignoring the demon’s confusion, Violet raised her hand, black energy erupted from her palm, swirling violently before coalescing into a massive, serpentine form. The ground trembled as Zmey Gorynych materialized with a deafening roar, his three heads snapping in different directions, eyes blazing with disoriented fury.

- Where am I? – one head growled. Another turned and froze at the sight of Violet. – You are... Mia.

- Violet now.

Silence hung between them, thick with unspoken history. Then.

- Why? – Zmey’s central head rumbled. – Why did you save me?

- Dunno. – Violet shrugged. – Felt like the right thing at the time.

- And if I betray you? If I consume you from within?

Her eyes flashed blue:

- Then I’ll kill you for good this time. – a pause. – But you won’t.

Zmey studied her, all three heads tilting in eerie unison. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a fanged smile:

- Out of gratitude for sparing my life... I will serve you.

- Not a servant. An ally. A friend. – her voice hardened slightly. – I won’t forgive what you and your kind did in Tellius. But... you’re not the monster I thought you were. At least I hope so.

- Then let us show these gnats why they should fear us three.

Beyond the hill, the first ranks of Imperial soldiers crested the ridge, only to stumble back in horror at the sight of the three-headed dragon now looming beside the demon knight.

- Yeah. Let’s. – Violet grinned.

The battlefield erupted into chaos as Violet, Mavka, and Zmey descended upon the Imperial forces like a storm of fangs and steel. The enemy's retreat had been too slow, now they would pay for their hesitation.

Mavka, a perfect shadowy replica of Violet, moved like liquid darkness, her form flickering between soldiers before they could even raise their weapons. Her blade, a twisted mirror of Shooting Star, carved through armor and flesh alike, leaving trails of inky blackness that writhed like living tendrils around fallen bodies. A spearman lunged at her, she sidestepped, grabbed his weapon mid-thrust, and snapped it over her knee before driving the splintered end through his throat. Nearby, an archer nocked an arrow, only for Mavka to vanish and reappear behind him, her hand clamping over his mouth as her sword plunged between his ribs.

Above, Zmey’s wings blotted out the sun as fire rained down in torrents. His three heads worked in terrifying unison, one spewing a continuous stream of flame that turned the grass into a spreading inferno, another unleashing gales of razor-sharp wind to herd fleeing soldiers into kill zones, while the third scanned the battlefield with predatory precision. When a battalion of armored knights formed a shield wall, Zmey folded his wings and plummeted like a meteor, his talons shredding steel and bone alike on impact. A mage hurled a bolt of dark magic at him, the dragon caught the spell midair in his jaws and crushed it, the energy dissipating like smoke between his fangs.

Violet, meanwhile, fought with lethal grace, her movements a blur of violet and silver. Shooting Star gleamed as she unleashed Astra, five rapid slashes faster than the eye could follow, each strike felling a different enemy. A cavalier charged her, she backflipped over the spear, landed on the horse’s back, and drove her sword through the rider’s collarbone before kicking the corpse aside. Two axemen swung at her in tandem, she ducked, pivoted, and bisected both at the waist with a single horizontal cut. When a cluster of mages began chanting, she smirked, then vanished, reappearing behind them to carve ruin through their ranks before they could finish a syllable.

Their cooperation was seamless. Mavka would herd enemies into Zmey’s fire with calculated feints, while the dragon’s aerial strikes forced formations to scatter, right into Violet’s blade. At one point, Zmey swooped low, his tail smashing a path through the infantry, and Violet sprinted up the scaled appendage before leaping off to plunge her sword into a commander’s skull. Mavka, ever the opportunist, slit the throats of those who tried to flee the carnage.

By the time the last soldier fell, the field was a graveyard of charred armor and blood-soaked earth. Zmey landed with a ground-shaking thud, his chest heaving but eyes alight with exhilaration. Mavka melted back into Violet’s shadow, her form dissipating with a satisfied whisper.

Violet wiped a smear of blood from her cheek and grinned.

- Now that’s how you throw a party. C’mon, we have some territories to gain.

The speed of their conquest was nothing short of terrifying. Like a storm sweeping across the land, Violet and her monstrous allies carved through enemy territory with brutal efficiency. Villages that had been Imperial strongholds mere hours ago now flew the Kingdom's banners, their garrisons either annihilated or fled in panic. The few surviving scouts who witnessed their advance didn't even dare report back - they simply ran, knowing no force could stand against this nightmare made flesh.

Violet stood atop a ruined watchtower, surveying the carnage below. The air smelled of smoke and blood, the ground littered with the remnants of those foolish enough to oppose them. Zmey coiled around the tower's base, his three heads lazily scanning the horizon for any remaining threats. Mavka's shadowy form flickered at Violet's side, her crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Pulling out the map, Violet traced their path of destruction with a finger. Every marked location had been cleared, every objective achieved. The Imperial territories had fallen in a single afternoon. A cruel smirk twisted her lips as she rolled up the parchment.

- Looks like we're done here. – she mused, her voice carrying over the crackling of distant fires. – Time to head west. To the West Arundel's lands. – Violet confirmed, her fingers tightening around Shooting Star's hilt. The blade hummed in response, eager for more battle. – Dimitri and the others should be making their move by now. Wouldn't want to keep them waiting.

- Or would we? – Mavka's laughter echoed darkly in Violet's mind. – Imagine their faces when they arrive to find the battle already won.

Violet chuckled as she leapt from the tower, landing gracefully on Zmey's back:

- Tempting. – she admitted. – But we'll play nice this time. – her eyes glowed with barely contained power as she pointed westward. – Let's move. The real fun is just beginning.

With a mighty beat of his wings, Zmey launched them into the sky, leaving behind only ruins and the echoes of their devastation. The Western Front awaited, and with it, the heart of the Empire's power in the region. Violet's grin widened as the wind whipped through her hair. After today, the name "Violet" would be whispered in fear across every corner of Fódlan.

Chapter Text

Chapter 29 – Ashen Demon

The scene unfolded with Violet landing gracefully in a cloud of dust, her boots crunching against the dry earth as she approached Dimitri and the others. The fading sunlight cast long shadows across the makeshift camp, the air thick with the tension of impending battle.

- Oh, there you are! – she called, waving casually as if she hadn’t just single-handedly dismantled half the Empire’s defenses.

Dimitri turned, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

- Ah, Violet. You were quicker than I expected.

- More like slower. – Felix, arms crossed, scoffed.

- Sorry, got caught up testing a new technique.

- We might have a problem. – Dimitri gestured toward the looming fortress in the distance. – Scouts report the Death Knight is inside… and the Ashen Demon.

- Who’s the Ashen Demon?

- I thought you knew that. – Felix groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

- He’s the son of Jeralt, leader of Jeralt’s Mercenaries. Fights without emotion, mercilessly.

- Two demons on the battlefield? Sounds like fun.

- Just be careful. – Dimitri chuckled, though his voice carried warning. – We move soon.

The fortress loomed ahead, its crumbling walls casting jagged shadows in the fading light. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and old blood, the Imperial army had dug in deep. Dimitri surveyed the battlefield, his voice cutting through the tension:

- We shall repel the Imperial army here and put a halt to their invasion. But be wary, they possess no small supply of skilled warriors.

- From the looks of it, they've gone and camped out in there. – Sylvain nudged his spear toward the closed fortress. – Perfect place for an ambush.

- Keep your guard high, those mercenaries could be waiting behind any corner. For now, let us deal with the foes we can see.

- And what’s my role in this little party? – Violet asked.

- Fight the Ashen Demon. You might be the only one who can.

- Finally, a challenge.

She pushed her way through the fortress ignoring the enemies. And there he stood. Byleth. The Ashen Demon regarded her with empty eyes, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword.

- You’re the one who helped save Remire Village. – Violet tilted her head.

No response. Just that infuriating silence.

- What, no witty banter? No grand speech about justice? – a pause. – Or are you just as hollow as they say?

- Did you come here to speak? – Byleth’s gaze didn’t waver.

- No. I came to break you.

Then he moved. Faster than she expected, his blade sliced toward her throat. She dodged, twisting to the side, and countered with a palm strike aimed at his ribs. But Byleth was already reacting, catching her wrist mid-motion and slamming her into the ground with terrifying precision. Dust exploded around them as Violet hit the stone floor. Byleth’s sword descended. She rolled, the blade embedding itself in the earth where her head had been a second before.

- Not bad. – Violet admitted, springing to her feet. – Maybe that silence of yours does make you stronger.

He lunged again. This time, she blocked, their swords clashing with a shower of sparks. The force of the impact sent tremors through the ruined chapel, yet neither showed strain, their movements fluid, testing, probing for weakness.

A feint. A parry. A counter. Then Violet struck. She rolled to his side, her leg snapping out to crush his knee. Byleth buckled, dropping to one leg, but his sword was already there, intercepting her slash before it could find flesh. The clash sent a shockwave through the air, the ground cracking beneath them.

Byleth leapt back, boots scraping against the broken stone as he put distance between them. But before he could even steady his stance. Violet was already moving. Not with her full, terrifying speed, not yet, but fast enough that the air itself seemed to hesitate around her. Her first strike came low, aiming to cripple rather than kill. Byleth's sword met hers just in time, steel shrieking in protest.

- Close. – Violet breathed, grinning as she saw the faintest flicker in his stoic expression.

Then she was gone again, not vanishing in a burst of supernatural speed, but moving with such precision that she might as well have. Her next strike came from his blind spot, the tip of her sword aimed at his neck. Then he disappeared. Violet instinctively blocked the hit above her and leaped back.

She looked at him briefly. His eyes and hair took a lighter hue.

- He can do that too? – she muttered, then immediately corrected herself. – No… it feels different.

The voice that came from Byleth’s lips was not his own, high-pitched, lilting, dripping with ancient malice.

- Such vexing arrogance for one so small.

Violet’s smirk faltered for half a second. What the hell was that?

- In any event, you labored to destroy my vessel, did you not? – the words slithered through the air, warping Byleth’s usual monotone into something unnervingly girlish. – That is a deed most foul...

Then Byleth teleported behind her.

- One you will pay for with your life!

Steel flashed. Violet barely twisted in time, sword intercepting the blade aimed for her spine. The impact sent shockwaves through her arms, but she held firm, until he vanished again, reappearing above her, sword descending toward her skull.

- Okay, playtime’s over. – Violet sighed.

She didn’t turn. Didn’t flinch. Just as the blade neared her neck, she vanished. Byleth’s sword cleaved empty air. And then he felt it, the shift in the atmosphere, the crackle of raw power at his back. His body moved before his mind could process it, spinning to face the threat, only to meet her in full glory. Violet-blue hair. Eyes burning like azure hellfire. A grin so wide it bordered on deranged. Her sword met his with a force that sent him skidding back, boots carving trenches in the dirt.

- First Shez, now you. – Violet mused, tilting her head. – This world just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

For a breathless moment, they stood frozen, Violet’s demonic form radiating azure energy, Byleth’s expression unreadable behind the glint of steel.

- So. – Violet mused, tilting her head. – You’re not the same Byleth I know. Who are you?

The voice that answered was laced with divine disdain:

- A mortal so arrogant should not ask such questions.

- Then I’ll just punch the answers out of you. – Violet’s grin widened.

She vanished. Her blade cut through empty air as Byleth blinked away, reappearing behind her with a slash aimed at her spine. But Violet was already gone, rematerializing in front of him mid-lunge. He disappeared again. Their battle became a storm of teleportations, steel clashing in bursts of sparks and displaced air. But with each exchange, Violet noticed it, he was slowing down. His movements grew fractionally heavier, his counters less precise. A horizontal slash. This time, Byleth blocked instead of dodging. Violet stepped back, resting Shooting Star on her shoulder:

- You’re getting sluggish. What’s wrong? Running out of juice?

The taunt struck true. Byleth lunged, one last teleport, but Violet had already predicted it. Her sword met his in a deafening crash, the force sending his weapon skidding across the stone. He dropped to one knee, breath ragged.

Violet raised her blade for the final strike, when the distant sound of retreat horns echoed through the ruins. She paused. Sighed. The blue fire in her eyes dimmed, her hair fading back to its usual violet hue:

- Well, damn. Was hoping they’d let us finish. – she sheathed her sword, turning away. – Guess that means we get a rematch someday. See ya, Ashen Demon.

Violet turned to leave the battlefield, her boots crunching over broken stone—when the air shifted. Ambush. A swordmaster lunged from the shadows, blade gleaming in the dim light. Violet barely glanced his way as she twisted, her foot slamming into his ribs with enough force to send him crashing through a stone wall. Dust billowed as his body crumpled.

- It's her! – a knight shouted, voice trembling. – The Ashen Demon should've exhausted her! Now's our chance. Finish her!

- You Imperial troops are such cowards. Ambushing a retreating lady? – her gaze swept over their ranks, then stopped.

There, at the back of the formation, Bernadetta stood frozen, her wide eyes locked on Violet as she took a shaky step back. A flicker of something. Guilt? Regret?

Then she moved. Like lightning given form, she tore through the enemy lines, a blur of violet and steel. Soldiers fell before they could raise their weapons, their bodies collapsing in her wake. In an instant, she stood before Bernadetta, the last of the Imperial troops either dead or unconscious at her feet.

- Hey, Bernie. – Violet said, her voice oddly gentle despite the carnage around them. – Two options. – she held up a finger. – One: You come with me, and I swear I’ll protect you. – a second finger. – Or two: You stay with these ugly bastards and share their fate.

- N-no, no, no! – Bernadetta’s breath hitched. – I-I’m not ready to die! P-please, don’t murder me!

- Yeah, figured you’d say that.

Before Bernadetta could protest further, Violet scooped her up, tucking the trembling archer under one arm like a sack of potatoes. Then she leapt, clearing the remaining Imperial forces in a single bound, the gates shrinking behind them as they vanished into the night.

Chapter Text

Chapter 30 – A Threat from the Capital

Violet stormed back to the others, Bernadetta still tucked under her arm like a startled rabbit:

- Why did we retreat when we had them on the ropes?

- I must return to Fhirdiad immediately. – Dimitri didn't flinch. – A month at most.

- What could possibly… – Mercedes clasped her hands.

- Sreng forces broke through Gautier territory. – Felix cut in, arms crossed. – Duke Ifan's captured. Margrave Gautier's gone dark.

A beat of stunned silence. Sylvain let out a hollow laugh:

- My old man doesn't go down easy. Which means whatever's coming... – his grip tightened on his spear.

- Alarming indeed. – Seteth's brow furrowed. – With the Church now based in Camulus and our people traveling to Fhirdiad regularly, it is most concerning for us.

- Sreng? – Annette blinked. – But they've always been peaceful!

- Peaceful like wolves. – Sylvain snarled.

- They seek fertile land. By force. – Dimitri said.

- Then let's all go crush them. – Violet said.

- Yes! We cannot abandon them! – Flayn nodded fiercely.

- No. – Dimitri's voice brooked no argument. – Arianrhod must hold. Violet, Ingrid, you're our shield against the Empire's counterattack. – he turned to Felix. – The army is yours.

Felix scoffed but didn't refuse. As Dimitri strode out with Dedue and Rodrigue, his final words hung heavy:

- Protect our people, Felix. Or I'll have nothing left but graves to pray over.

The Kingdom's assault on the former Arundel territory proves successful, but the wind carries dire word of invasion from Sreng in the north. Having lost contact with Margrave Gautier, Dimitri departs Arianrhod and makes for the into a trap, yet he marches on all the same.

- You're certain? – Violet asked.

- Yes. – the soldier gasped. – Sreng forces attacked but never breached Gautier territory. The Margrave is unharmed.

- Then why the blackout? – Felix asked.

- Sabotage. – the man said. – The Margrave suspected treason when his first envoy vanished. Sent us out separately, I'm the only one who made it.

- So Dad's fine, but we've got traitors picking off messengers in Blaiddyd lands. Lovely. – Sylvain barked a laugh, but his eyes were cold.

- Cornelia's playbook. Just like Rowe's convoy. – Felix turned to the scout. – Any word from Fhirdiad? The King?

- None when I left.

- Only one way to find out. We ride north! – Violet exclaimed.

- The Margrave would send word if— – the scout began.

- We don't have days to spare! – Sylvain interrupted. – If Dimitri dies in that trap, Arianrhod won't matter. The Kingdom will tear itself apart.

- Mobilize our elites. – Felix waved his hand. – We march within the hour.

- Even absent, His Majesty finds ways to give me migraines.

- Then let's go save his headache-inducing ass. – Violet grinned.

The camp was busy as Violet found Bernadetta pacing near the supply tents, her fingers twisting in her sleeves.

- W-why am I suddenly part of the Kingdom army?! – Bernadetta squeaked, nearly tripping over her own feet. – I’m not supposed to be here! You can’t force me to fight! No way, no how!

- Relax. – Violet offered a rare, gentle smile. – You don’t have to fight. I’ll handle it.

- I don’t want to be on the battlefield at all!

- Then stay in camp. – Violet chuckled. – But when the Empire attacks, there’ll be no one to protect you.

- T-that’s not fair! – she wrung her hands, then deflated. – ...Fine. I’ll… I’ll follow you.

Silence settled between them, thick and uneasy. Violet opened her mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. Bernadetta fidgeted before speaking softly:

- D-do you remember… when you said ‘family’s family’?

Violet nodded, her chest tightening.

- Those words… helped me accept my father’s death. – Bernadetta murmured, staring at the ground. – I was so conflicted at first. But then I remembered what you said… and my mother’s touch… and I… I made peace with it.

Violet couldn’t speak. The weight of the unspoken truth, that she had been the one to kill Grégoire, lodged in her throat like a blade. Bernadetta glanced up, then quickly bowed her head:

- S-sorry for ruining the mood! I’ll, um, see you later!

As she scurried away, Violet’s hand twitched, reaching out as if to stop her, but no words came. She stood there, fingers curling into a fist, her shadow stretching long behind her in the firelight.

- How poetic. – the demon purred, voice dripping with malice. – A family murderer, cozying up to her victims. First Zmey, now this trembling little mouse. Do you collect them like trophies?

- I didn’t know. – she muttered. – I didn’t know he was her father.

- Would it have stopped you?

A beat.

-...maybe.

- Ah, but you don’t want her to know, do you? – Mavka’s laughter slithered through the dark. – How… sentimental.

- It’s better this way. For now. Maybe forever.

- Liar. – Mavka crooned. – You’re afraid of losing her.

The flames of Violet’s eyes flickered. For once, her retort didn’t come instantly. Then, quietly:

- Maybe.

She kicked at the shadow, scattering it, but the weight in her chest remained.

Chapter Text

Chapter 31 – Return of the King

Felix stormed into the command tent, parchment crumpled in his fist:

- Gautier's sent word. Cornelia's at Fhirdiad's gates with the western lords' combined forces.

- His Majesty—

- Surrendered. – Felix spat. – To protect civilians from their 'strange new weapons.'

- So the western lords played us. – Sylvain whistled. – Clever bastards.

- My father was with Duke Ifan… – Annette clenched her hands.

- Gustave's status unknown. – Felix cut in. – Dedue and my father? No word.

- These weapons. – Violet's eyes narrowed. – Civilians unharmed?

- For now. – Felix's hand twitched toward his sword. – But if Cornelia's faction gets reckless, even Dimitri's patience will snap.

- We ride. Now.

- All units! To Fhirdiad at double time!

In one day Felix’s army reached the capital.

- Back already? – Violet asked, arms crossed. – What’s the situation in Fhirdiad?

- Confirmed! Bizarre weapons mounted across the city. Civilians unharmed so far. Lord Rodrigue and Sir Gustave escaped with freed prisoners, fighting in the streets.

- Father’s safe! – Annette brightened.

- Of course he is. – Felix snorted. – The old man’s too stubborn to die.

- There’s another force occupying the capital, unidentified. – The scout hesitated. – Our men won’t last long.

- Then we extract them first.

- My old man never ceases to amaze. Shouldn't even be a surprise at this point.

- I should add, the western lords' armies aren't the only forces occupying the capital. There is another, one we can't identify at present. I doubt even the great Lord Rodrigue and Sir Gustave will be able to hold out much longer.

- Sounds like they're in a bad spot. – Violet uncrossed her arms. – We should focus on keeping them safe, right?

-  Don't be too hasty. – Felix said. – Why do you think the two of them are causing this uproar in the first place?

- To create a diversion, I know. But I don't think that means we should just abandon them, either.

- I won’t abandon them! – Annette stomped her foot. – And His Majesty wouldn’t want us to either!

- We can’t reach the king while civilians are hostages. – Ingrid cut in.

- Simple. We carve through town en route to the castle. – Sylvain grinned.

- Dedue’s in that castle too. – Ashe adjusted his gloves.

Felix exhaled sharply:

- Move out. And try not to die.

The army split like a river around a boulder, Felix’s forces surging left, Violet’s striking right, both skirting the city’s still-sealed gates. The towering walls loomed over them, their iron-reinforced doors bolted shut against friend and foe alike.

Felix shot a glance at Violet’s squad, barely two dozen against his hundred, but her smirk told him everything. She wanted it this way.

- Keep pressure on their flanks! – he shouted to his troops. – If those gates open, we swarm!

Two armored knights barred Violet’s path, their hulking forms blocking the narrow street. Behind her, Annette’s spells and Ashe’s arrows picked off stragglers.

- Frontliners first. – Violet muttered.

The first knight charged, greatsword heaving downward. Violet sidestepped, her own blade lashing out in a violet streak. Steel sheared through gorget and spine, dropping him like a felled tree. The second swung his axe in a brutal arc. Shooting Star met it mid-swing, shattering the haft. Before the splinters hit the ground, Violet rammed her sword through his visor.

- Clear! – she barked, yanking her blade free as the corpse collapsed.

The massive city gates groaned open, enemy troops pouring out to intercept them. Felix bared his teeth in a fierce grin:

- Not the smartest move, opening the gates for us. Crush them here and push through!

The Kingdom forces clashed with the defenders, driving them back into the city streets. But as they advanced, a searing bolt of lightning split the sky, crashing down where Violet had stood moments before she dodged by a hair’s breadth, the cobblestones shattering where she’d been. Regrouping, Ashe gaped at the towering contraption looming over the square:

- Those ‘weapons! They’re like some kind of fire orb!

Then. A familiar voice, strained but resolute. Dedue, bloodied but unbroken, fought through a circle of enemies:

- I must return to the castle!

- Dedue’s surrounded! – Ashe readied his bow. – We have to help him!

- We need to deal with that weapon, but charging it head-on is suicide. – Felix yelled.

- There must be controls nearby. – Ingrid’s eyes narrowed. – I’ve seen schematics of these before...

Dedue shook his head:

- Do not waste time on me. His Majesty comes first.

Mercedes stepped forward, her hands already glowing with healing magic:

- But we are worried. You’re our friend too, Dedue.

As her magic knit his wounds, Dedue bowed his head:

- …thank you. – Dedue, now healed, clenched his fists. – Lord Rodrigue still fights in the streets—

A bellow cut through the chaos: Rodrigue’s voice, fierce but strained:

- Hmph! Who do you think you face?!

Ingrid spotted him first, surrounded, his armor scorched but sword still flashing:

- Rodrigue’s overwhelmed!

Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid lunged into the fray without another word. Steel met steel as they carved through the rebels, their coordinated assault turning the tide. Rodrigue exhaled sharply as the last foe fell:

- You should’ve hurried to His Majesty first, Felix… yet here you are. – a tired smile. – Thank you.

- You were getting swarmed. – Felix scoffed, wiping blood from his blade. – We weren’t about to just watch you die.

Mercedes arrived moments later, her healing magic already weaving over Rodrigue’s wounds. The old knight bowed his head:

- I’m humbled by your efforts.

Cornelia watched from the highest tower, her lips curled in amusement as the chaos unfolded below.

- I was wondering when your merry little band might show up. – she called down, voice dripping with mock sweetness. – Lucky for you, I’ve got a nice mass grave ready and waiting.

Her gaze locked onto Violet, who felt it instantly, turning to meet her eyes with a sharp, defiant smirk.

- Well. That one will be interesting. – Cornelia’s smile widened.

With a groan of ancient hinges, the castle gates heaved open, disgorging a fresh wave of soldiers. Dedue didn’t hesitate:

- His Majesty is inside. We press on now!

Then. A meteor crashed in front of the gates. Violet crashed down like a falling star, her impact shaking the earth. The stolen warhammer in her grip slammed into the cobblestones with apocalyptic force, sending shockwaves that knocked the front ranks off their feet. Dust and debris erupted in a choking cloud as cracks spiderwebbed outward from ground zero. Spinning to face Felix and Dedue, she jerked her chin toward the castle:

- Go! I’ll hold them here.

No arguments. No hesitation. Felix and Dedue charged past her, vanishing into the castle’s maw as Violet turned back to the army before her. Her eyes blazing blue, her grin unhinged.

- Alright, ugly. Let’s dance.

The palace prison was quiet, save for the distant clamor of battle outside. Dimitri sat by the window.

- Dimitri. – Felix’s voice was uncharacteristically tense. – You okay?

- Felix... why have you come?

- As if we’d leave you here to die. – Felix strode forward until they stood face-to-face, then thrust out his hand. – Time to get you out.

Dimitri turned away, his gaze drifting to the chaos visible through the window, Kingdom soldiers scrambling to defend the streets below.

- I must stay. – he murmured. – If I flee, my people’s lives are forfeit.

- So they leash the boar not with chains, but with his own damnable sense of duty.

Violet shouldered past Felix, her boots scraping against the stone floor:

- They’re gonna kill you in here, Dimitri!

- So be it. – he said quietly. – If my death keeps them safe—

- I won’t allow it. – A deep voice cut through the room.

Dedue stood in the doorway, Areadbhar gleaming in his hands.

- Your Majesty. – he said, kneeling before Dimitri and offering the relic spear. – Take it.

Dimitri reached out, hesitated, but Dedue clasped his king’s hand around the weapon’s shaft, his grip firm.

- Duty to the living... guilt for the lost... These burdens are not yours alone to bear. – Dedue’s voice was steel wrapped in velvet. – We fight at your side. Now and always.

For a heartbeat, the room held its breath. Then Dimitri’s fingers tightened around Areadbhar on his own.

Dimitri surged through the castle corridors like a storm given form. With a roar, he hurled Areadbhar to the ground, the impact sent enemies flying like leaves in a gale. He didn’t look back as he charged forward, but behind him, Violet and Felix followed in his wake.

- Hey, I like him in this state! – Violet grinned, her eyes alight with exhilaration.

- That’s what happens when the boar breaks his chains. – Felix shot her a glare as he sprinted past. – Try to keep up!

- To a turtle like you? Sure.

They burst into the city streets, where the cries of civilians echoed through the smoke. Dimitri’s voice cut through the chaos:

- Lend me your strength! For Fhirdiad!

Just as they moved to aid the wounded, reinforcements arrived, banners snapping in the wind. Dimitri’s eyes widened:

- That banner... Margrave Gautier! Finally, some good news.

- Huh. Think that did it. – Sylvain wiped blood from his cheek.

A scream pierced the air:

- Someone—anyone—help!

- Oh no—!

Before Ashe could finish, a Viskam hummed to life, only for Violet to vanish and reduce it to scrap mid-charge.

Then laughter. Cornelia emerged from the smoke, her smile razor-thin:

- Oh, I’ve been waiting for this. Let’s have a little fun, shall we?

Behind her, mysterious soldiers stepped forward, weapons glinting with otherworldly light. Violet cracked her neck. Violet's eyes locked onto the advancing soldiers. Their armor was strange, but not unfamiliar to her:

- Oh, you've got to be kidding me. – Violet spat, her fingers tightening around Shooting Star. – These are the same freaks from Shambhala!

- You recognize them? – Dimitri's head snapped toward her.

- Yeah. – she growled, her hair beginning to flicker with blue energy. – They're the bastards who made those metal monsters. The ones who slither in the dark. …or at least that’s how Mr. Edgelord calls them.

- Very good! – Cornelia clapped mockingly. – Though I'd hoped they'd make a more dramatic—

Violet moved. One of the Agarthan soldiers collapsed before Cornelia finished speaking, his throat slit before he could raise his weapon:

- Dramatic enough for you? – Violet sneered, flicking black blood from her blade.

The Agarthan soldiers moved like shadows, but to Violet, they might as well have been standing still. She didn’t kill them. Not immediately. She played instead. The first lunged, she sidestepped, her blade licking out to sever his hamstrings. He crumpled with a gurgled scream. The second fired a searing bolt of dark magic, Violet caught it on her sword, the energy dissipating with a hiss before she drove the pommel into his nose, shattering bone.

A third and fourth came at her together. Bad idea. Her sword became a whirlwind, one lost an arm at the elbow, the other stumbled back, clutching the ruin of his slit throat. Not deep enough to kill. Just enough to hurt. By the time she was done, only two remained standing, their weapons shaking in their grips. Violet tilted her head:

- You must be the lucky ones.

Then a flash of steel. Two hands thudded to the ground, fingers still twitching. The Agarthan stared, dumbstruck, at his stumps before the pain hit. Violet sheathed her sword:

- That? That had to go. Wouldn’t want you playing any magic tricks.

She grabbed the nearest conscious soldier by the collar, dragging him toward the castle as the last of the fighting died around her.

- Seteth and Rhea would want a word.

Soon the battle was over with Cornelia retreating

Chapter Text

Chapter 32 – Who are They?

Violet kicked open the door to Seteth and Rhea’s strategy room, dragging two mutilated Agarthans behind her by their collars. With a grunt, she dumped them on the floor, their blood smearing the polished stone. Seteth shot to his feet, chair scraping back:

- What is this?

- Your favorite people. – Violet said, wiping her hands on her coat. – Same mages from before. The ones who like slithering in the dark, or whatever dramatic nonsense Hubert called them. – she tilted her head. – Weird they don’t have actual names, huh? Just edgy monikers.

- You dragged them before the battle was over? – Seteth’s brow furrowed. – Dimitri needed your aid on the battlefield!

- Dimitri is a grown boy now. – Violet shrugged. – Figured you’d want a chat with these guys before they bled out.

Rhea rose gracefully, her emerald eyes glinting as she studied the prisoners:

- We will question them when they wake. – she gestured to a nearby knight. – Have their wounds treated. Just enough to keep them conscious.

- Have fun. – Violet saluted lazily.

As she turned to leave, Seteth called after her, voice tight:

- And Violet? Next time, ask before turning our war room into an abattoir.

- No promises.

Next day.

- So? – Violet prompted. – What did you dig up from those creeps?

Seteth exhaled, rubbing his temples:

- Not as much as we’d hoped. When questioned about the Western Church, they merely laughed and called them ‘puppets.’

- What’s that supposed to mean? – Violet’s eyes narrowed.

Seteth hesitated, then sighed:

- Violet… there’s something you should know.

She tilted her head, silent. He began:

- Long ago, the people of Agartha coexisted with the Nabateans, the children of the Goddess. But in time, they grew arrogant. They abandoned her protection, turning instead to technology, to power. They became conquerors, and in their hubris, they challenged the Goddess herself. – Seteth leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. – For centuries, we dismissed the Agarthans as a dwindling remnant, too few in number to pose a true threat. But their methods... we still understand too little. – his gaze sharpened. – Cornelia may not even be human. She could be one of their agents, like Tomas, a shapeshifter hiding in plain sight.

- What happened to the two I dragged in here? – Violet crossed her arms.

- Dead. – Seteth said flatly. – They took their own lives the moment we pressed them for details on their operations. A final act of loyalty. Or fear.

- Dramatic bastards. I’ll keep digging. But like you asked, Dimitri comes first.

- See that he does.

As the door closed behind her, Violet’s smirk faded. Shapeshifters. Ancient grudges. A sleeping goddess.

- This war just got a hell of a lot weirder.

Chapter Text

Chapter 33 – Edelgard’s Move

The war room doors burst open as a breathless soldier stumbled in, armor clanking.

- Your Majesty! Urgent report from the eastern front! The Imperial army has breached Arundel's outer defenses!

- Damn it all, they timed this perfectly. – Felix’s jaw tighten.

- Status of our garrison? – the king's voice remained steady.

- Holding... for now. But their lines won't last another day against that onslaught.

- This reeks of more than coincidence. Have we been compromised? – Rodrigue 's eyes narrowed.

- Unlikely. Arianrhod's reserves alone should've deterred any probing attack. Felix's battalion could've repelled this, unless they're facing more than scouts.

- Your Majesty... the attackers fly the Emperor's personal standard. The Black Eagles lead the assault.

- Edelgard herself? – a slow grin spread across Violet’s face. - Guess ruling an empire gets boring without a proper fight.

- The western rebellion remains our priority. – Rodrigue said. – Let the Empire take one castle if it means saving the Kingdom.

- Yet losing Arianrhod... – Dimitri’s eyes flickered to the Silver Maiden's icon on the map. – That fortress is the keystone of Faerghus' defense.

- Then deploy the Knights of Seiros. – Seteth stepped forward, his tone leaving no room for debate. – Our numbers may be few, but in siege warfare, quality outweighs quantity. And we owe you this much, Your Majesty. – a glance at Violet. – She comes with us.

- Oh? Thought you wanted me on royal guard duty. – she cocked her head at Dimitri. – Change of heart?

- This is Faerghus' battle to wage. Your talents are better spent with the Knights. – Dimitri turned to Seteth with a curt nod. – Inform Lady Rhea we require reinforcements at both strongholds. If Arundel falls, her forces are to retreat to Arianrhod immediately, no exceptions.

- Understood! – the messenger saluted and sprinted from the hall.

- Rodrigue, Felix, we march within the hour. Every moment wasted is a step closer to defeat.

Chapter Text

Chapter 34 – Arhianrod

Violet leaned against Arianrhod’s battlements, arms crossed as she watched the distant smoke of Arundel’s siege stain the horizon. Seteth approached, his footsteps measured, his expression unreadable.

- So. – Violet began. – We’ve been sitting here for days while Arundel burns. Care to explain?

- Arianrhod is the more defensible position. Strategically, it’s the wiser choice.

- Strategically? – she scoffed. – I could’ve ended that siege in an hour. You really think a few Imperial battalions would stand a chance against me?

- Perhaps not. But we still don’t fully understand the extent of your abilities or their consequences. – his gaze hardened. – If something were to go wrong, you’d be alone behind enemy lines. Dimitri and I agreed it’s better to keep you where reinforcements can reach you.

- Wow. – she whistled, grinning. – Didn’t realize you two cared so much.

- It’s pragmatism, not sentiment.

- Sure, sure. – she waved a hand dismissively. – But let’s be real, Dimitri’s also scared of relying on me too much, isn’t he? Doesn’t want his precious Kingdom saved by some outsider with freakish powers. Thinks it’ll make him look weak.

A faint smirk tugged at Seteth’s lips:

- And yet, here you are. Following orders. Restraining yourself.

- Tch. Don’t get used to it.

- Regardless, you’ve performed admirably within these bounds.

- Admirably? – she barked a laugh. – I’m a glorified guard dog right now.

- A guard dog with the sense not to bite unless commanded. – he turned to leave, then paused. – That, too, is a form of strength.

Violet watched him go, her smirk fading. Somewhere in the shadows, Mavka chuckled.

- How very… obedient of you. – the demon purred.

- Shut up.

The war room doors slammed open as a scout staggered in, his armor streaked with dirt and sweat.

- The Imperial army! They’ve broken camp! They march on Arianrhod as we speak!

A murmur rippled through the gathered knights.

- And the King’s forces? – Seteth asked calmly.

- Two hours out, at best. The Emperor will be at our gates within the hour.

Violet let out a sharp laugh from where she lounged against the wall:

- Cutting it close, aren’t they?

Seteth ignored her, turning to the knights:

- Man the outer defenses. Archers to the ramparts, delay their advance as long as possible. – his gaze snapped to Violet. – Take your position on the eastern wall.

- Tch. Like hell I’m playing gatekeeper while Edelgard waltzes up with her whole damn army.

- This is not the time for defiance. Lives depend on—

- Yeah, yeah. ‘Orders’ and ‘duty’ and all that. – she waved a hand dismissively, already striding toward the door. – I’ll be where I’m needed.

- Violet! – his voice cracked like a whip. – Take. This. Seriously.

She didn’t turn back. The door swung shut behind her with a decisive thud.

When the enemy appeared, she was ready to face them. Violet’s boots hit the stone just as the first Imperial soldier vaulted over the battlements. Impossible. The gates were sealed. The walls manned. Yet here they were, swords already drawn. No time to question it. She turned to the nearest Church knight, his face pale with shock:

- Run to Seteth. Tell him they’ve got hidden passages. Go. – the man hesitated. – Now!

As he fled, Violet cracked her neck and smirked at the encroaching soldiers:

- Well, this just got interesting. – she extended a hand. – Zmey. Mavka. Playtime.

The earth beneath the invaders split open. First came Zmey, a serpentine monstrosity of coiled shadow and gnashing teeth, its body thick as a siege tower. Then Mavka, her form flickering between a laughing girl and a thing of jagged limbs and hollow eyes.

Violet didn’t stay to watch. She moved forward. Behind her, the screaming began.

The first line of Imperials barely had time to raise their shields before Zmey struck. Its maw unhinged, swallowing three men whole, their armor crunching like eggshells. A spear bounced harmlessly off its shadowy scales, then the tail came whipping around, shearing through breastplates and bone alike.

Mavka danced between the chaos, her laughter ringing like broken bells. A soldier swung at her, only for his blade to pass through smoke. She reappeared behind him, fingers elongating into talons that pierced his skull like parchment.

- So eager to die! – she sang, ripping free in a spray of gore.

The Imperials tried to rally. A mage unleashed a fire spell, Zmey absorbed the flames and spat them back, igniting a dozen men in their own screams. Arrows rained down from the rear guard, but Mavka melted into the ground, surging up beneath the archers to drag them kicking into the dark.

One captain, wiser than the rest, bellowed orders to retreat. Too late. Zmey’s body slammed down like a landslide, crushing the escape route. Mavka perched atop the writhing mass, tilting her head.

- Why run? – she crooned. – The fun’s just starting!

She plunged her hands into the pile and the shadows erupted into a forest of barbed tendrils, impaling everything that still moved.

When it was over, the ramparts were slick with blood and silence. Zmey coiled lazily around the corpses, while Mavka licked a stray drop from her fingers.

- Such messy eaters. – she sighed.

Violet descended further into the fortress, where the air smelled of damp stone and Imperial steel. The moment she turned the corner, a dozen Black Eagle soldiers locked onto her, swords drawn, spears leveled, spells crackling at their fingertips.

No transformation. No theatrics. Just her, her blade, and the beautiful simplicity of violence. The first soldier lunged, spear aimed for her heart. She caught the shaft mid-thrust, wrenched, and sent the man hurtling into the wall with a sickening crunch. The spear stayed in her grip.

- Thanks. – she said, just before spinning it in a vicious arc. The butt cracked against a swordsman's temple, dropping him like a sack of grain.

The rest charged. Violet moved like a storm given form. A swordmaster's killing edge met empty air, her counterstrike split his breastplate clean through. A mage's fireball fizzled as she sidestepped, hurling the spear straight through his chest. The force carried him off his feet, pinning him to the far wall. She caught the spear mid-rebound, twisted into a 360° spin, Shooting Star flashed, and three soldiers fell in halves.

Violet stood in the center of the corridor, the axe heavy in her right hand, the spear slick with blood in her left. The remaining Imperials hesitated, just for a moment, before tightening their circle around her. A smirk. Then she moved. The axe came down first, a brutal, cleaving arc that split a swordsman from shoulder to hip. Before his body hit the ground, the spear lashed out like a striking viper, punching through the throat of an archer nocking his next shot. She didn’t pause to watch him choke.

A spear wielder charged, aiming to skewer her while she was mid-swing. Violet twisted, letting the tip graze her side as she hooked the axe behind his knee and yanked. He crashed forward, just in time for her to drive the spear downward, pinning his screaming form to the stone.

Two more came at her from opposite sides, a mage with crackling lightning and an armored knight with a spiked mace. Violet hurled the axe, burying it in the mage’s chest before he could finish his incantation. The knight’s mace whistled toward her skull, she caught his wrist with her free hand, twisted until bone snapped, then rammed the spear up under his helm. The tip scraped the inside of his visor as it exited the back of his skull. She let him drop, retrieving the axe with a wet schlick.

Now the real dance began. The axe became an extension of her fury, crushing shields, shattering swords, cleaving through plate like parchment. The spear was precision itself, a flick of her wrist to disarm, a sudden thrust to pierce a lung, a sweeping strike to open arteries. She fought with a rhythm that bordered on obscene, every motion flowing into the next. A downward axe chop shattered a soldier’s collarbone, she used his stumbling body as a stepping stone to vault over an incoming sword swing, landing behind the attacker to drive the spear through his spine. An arrow whizzed past her ear, she flung the axe like a throwing knife, embedding it in the archer’s chest before he could nock another. A sage swung a censer of fire, Violet ducked the flames, came up inside his guard, and silenced his chanting with a spear through the teeth.

By the time the last man fell, her weapons were painted crimson, her breath steady despite the carnage. Corpses littered the hall in grotesque poses, limbs bent at unnatural angles, faces frozen in final agony. Violet wiped the axe clean on a dead man’s tabard.

- Hm. – she eyed the ruined spear, shaft splintered, tip dulled from overuse. With a shrug, she snapped it over her knee and tossed the pieces aside. – Guess I’ll find another.

The hidden staircase groaned open, revealing a figure draped in shadows, light purple hair catching the dim torchlight, a smirk dancing on his lips. Violet’s grip tightened on her sword, her pulse quickening as the man stepped forward, his movements liquid smooth, deliberate. The scent of blood and sweat clung to the air, but beneath it, something else, something sharp and intoxicating, like iron and expensive cologne.

- So. – he said, voice like velvet over steel. – You're the infamous Violet Demon. – his eyes, sharp as the dagger at his belt. The carnage around them didn’t faze him, if anything, it seemed to amuse him. – Pity for you, I make it a habit to survive encounters with beautiful monsters.

Violet tilted her head, lips curling into something between a smile and a snarl:

- Damn. You're very easy on the eyes. – she grinned. – What's your name, pretty thief?

- Yuri. – he answered with a theatrical bow that didn’t quite hide how his fingers drifted toward his blade. – And you must be the reason Imperial soldiers keep having nightmares.

- Yuri... – she tasted the name like fine wine, licking her lips, slow and deliberate. – I'll remember that. My boss was very specific about... mixing with humans. – she took a step forward. – But I promise I'll spare you.

- Spare me? – Yuri’s voice dropped, low and rough. – Now where’s the fun in that?

- Oh, darling. I never said I’d be gentle. I’ll just…keep you after you finish.

And then she lunged. Their blades kissed with a metallic shing, Violet leaning close enough for Yuri to feel the heat of her breath against his lips.

- Mmm, you move well for a rat in fancy clothes. – she pressed him backward, step by step, her body flush against his. – Bet you're flexible too.

- Beautiful, you have no idea, but I prefer being the one doing the bending.

His dagger flashed upward, grazing her collarbone. She specifically didn’t dodge. A thin red line bloomed across her skin, and Violet arched into the cut with a shuddering gasp.

- Ah!~ Not too bad. – her voice was a sinful purr. – But you can go much deeper than that. – her wound has already healed.

Yuri’s smirk faltered for half a heartbeat, just long enough for Violet to hook her leg behind his knees and yank. They crashed to the stone floor, her thighs clamping around his waist, her weight pinning him down.

- Oops~ – she grounded her hips down hard enough. – Looks like my sword isn’t the only thing that rises to the occasion. – she leaned, her voice a whisper. – Shame I can’t sheathe it properly.

- Who says I’d let you? – he bucked upward, trying to throw her off, but Violet only slammed his wrists back against the ground, her grip iron-tight.

- Tsk tsk. So eager. – she rolled her pelvis in slow, deliberate circles, as he struggled the leather of her pants creaking with the movement. – Tell me, pretty thief, you ever been mounted by a demon before?

His hand slipped her grip, a dagger suddenly pricked at her inner thigh.

- Who says you’d be on top? – his breath hitched as she deliberately pressed deeper into the blade, blood soaking through her leggings. His voice dropped to a growl. – I’ve had hellspawn beg beneath me. You’re not special.

- Mmm, yes—right there. – her hips jerked, grinding down harder as the blade bit deeper. – Harder.

- Fu—! – his composure cracked, his face changed. – You’re insane.

- Finally got you locked! – she grinned.

The clatter of steel faded as Violet and Yuri remained locked together, their bodies pressed flush, Yuri breathing heavily. Around them, the remaining Imperial troops stood frozen, their faces twisted in horror and reluctant fascination at the obscene display before them.

Violet’s lips curled into a slow, wicked grin. The metallic tang of blood and the musk of exertion clung to his skin, and she inhaled deeply, savoring it.

- Mavka. Zmey. You can come back.

The shadows at her feet rippled, then exploded outward like spilled ink. Mavka’s laughter, high, unhinged, dripping with malice, echoed through the hall as she materialized from the darkness, her jagged limbs stretching toward the nearest soldier. Zmey’s massive form uncoiled beside her, his maw dripping with thick saliva, his breath a low, hungry growl.

- Slaughter everyone here… – Violet murmured, her fingers tracing Yuri’s lips. – Except for him. – she leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. – Well, handsome… shall we continue?

The corridor erupted into screams as Mavka and Zmey tore into the Imperials. Bones crunched, flesh rent, and blood painted the walls in violent arcs. The air filled with the wet, tearing sounds of slaughter, but Yuri didn’t flinch. His gaze remained locked on Violet’s, his pulse hammering beneath her grip, equal parts wary and intrigued.

- What do you want from me, Demon? – he asked, voice rough.

- Well, it’s simple. Join me. Fight for Dimitri’s army. – she leaned to his ear. – It’s a shame I can’t experience certain… activities with humans. My affection tends to be fatal. – she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her voice a whisper. – If that weren’t the case… well. I’d have you begging by now.

Yuri’s smirk returned, sharper than ever, though his breath hitched when her knee pressed between his thighs:

- Now that’s a real shame. – he tilted his head, considering. – But if it’s just fighting for the Kingdom you’re after… I don’t mind.

Violet’s grin widened, feral and triumphant. She pushed herself up in one fluid motion, then offered him a hand.

- Good choice. Otherwise I’d be squeezing the life out of you. It’s a deal then.

Yuri took it, letting her pull him to his feet, their bodies still close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off her. Around them, the last of the Imperials fell silent.

- And. – she grinned but her usual self. – A victory for me on a psychological front!

- Dear Sothis, that’s what was that about.

- Psychological warfare. I cracked you open and had fun. But really. – she leaned forward close enough to his lips. – If it wasn’t for the restrictions, I might’ve considered.

The heavy gates of Arianrhod groaned open, revealing the blood-soaked aftermath of Violet's handiwork. Felix and Sylvain stepped through first, their boots splashing in crimson puddles as they surveyed the carnage. Felix's nose wrinkled in disgust:

- You couldn't have left some for the rest of us?

Violet smirked, her fingers still tracing lazy circles along Yuri's jawline:

- This dirty little cornered rat decided to join us. Or at least be my prisoner. – she licked her lips, slow and deliberate. – Haven't decided yet.

- Whatever. Just keep him on a leash. – Felix rolled his eyes.

- That would be too kinky. – she smirked.

- Damn, Violet. – Sylvain let out a low whistle, eyeing the piles of bodies. – You really did take your time here.

- What can I say? – she shrugged, stretching her arms behind her head. – I like to savor my work.

Felix jerked his chin toward the fortress interior:

- Dimitri's forces are securing the western and central sectors. We thought we help on the  eastern side.

- But now you see I was already here. – Violet waved a hand at the slaughter around them. – Don't worry, Felix. I'll go play nice with the others now.

With that, she winked at Yuri "behave while I'm gone, pretty thief" and took off toward the center of the fortress.

The central courtyard was littered with fallen Imperial soldiers as Dimitri drove his spear through the last defiant swordsman, his breath steady despite the carnage. Violet sauntered up, her boots crunching over shattered weapons and splintered shields.

- Held off the east for you. Mostly. – she wiped a smear of blood from her cheek with her thumb. – Forgot to take prisoners. Well, except one. – her grin turned wolfish. – Trust me, he's the best catch of the day.

Dimitri barely had time to respond before a panicked shout echoed from the gates.

- Your Majesty, the Emperor! She's here! – Kingdom Soldier shouted.

The air turned to ice. Through the shattered gates, Edelgard strode forward, her crimson armor gleaming under the smoke-choked sky. Ferdinand von Aegir followed at her side, his spear raised in perfect formation. Dimitri's grip on Areadbhar tightened. Without a word, he charged toward the entrance, his cloak billowing behind him like a stormcloud. Violet exhaled, rolling her shoulders:

- Well. This just got interesting.

The air between them crackled with years of unresolved fury.

- I have nothing more to say to you. This ends now. – Edelgard’s grip on Aymr tightened, the relic’s jagged edges humming with latent power.

- Yes... I suppose it does, Edelgard. Let us finish this.

They clashed in a storm of steel, Edelgard’s axe carving deadly arcs, Dimitri’s spear a blur of precision and raw strength. Every strike carried the weight of their shattered past, every parry a silent plea for absolution. And Dimitri was winning.

- You must be very stupid to face me. – Violet twirled Shooting Star lazily. – There was only one survivor in this battle against me. And I spared him only because he was handsome.

- Violet, it has been some time. – Ferdinand leveled his spear, his noble steed stamping impatiently. – I do not care how many times you’ve won before, I won’t allow myself to lose to you!

He spurred his horse forward, spear aimed straight for her heart. Violet leaped, clearing both horse and rider with effortless grace. Ferdinand wheeled around, thrusting again and again, each strike met with empty air as Violet sidestepped, her smirk never fading. On his next lunge, she parried, the force of her swing slicing his spear clean in two. The shock sent Ferdinand tumbling from his saddle, hitting the ground with a grunt.

- Well. That was quick.

Ferdinand scrambled to his feet, drawing his sword.

- That won’t matter. – she pointed Shooting Star at him, the blade gleaming hungrily. – I’ll break it too.

Then a deafening clang echoed across the battlefield. Violet’s gaze flicked to Dimitri and Edelgard. The Emperor staggered, Aymr slipping from her grasp.

- It’s over, Edelgard.

Silence fell. Edelgard wiped blood from her lip, her breathing ragged:

- It seems you are the victor in this fight. I bid you farewell.

- No escape!

A dark chuckle echoed through the courtyard as the air itself seemed to warp.

- Indeed. This moment will be the doom of you both.

- Thales! – Edelgard's eyes widened as the Agarthan leader materialized before them.

- Dear Edelgard. – Thales crooned, his voice like oil on water. – It has been far too long.

Edelgard's gaze darted between Thales and Dimitri:

- Is it so? Have you really found an ally in Dimitri?

- What lie is this? – Dimitri's grip on Areadbhar tightened.

- So you are not allies? – Edelgard's shoulders relaxed slightly. – That makes more sense. I can't imagine you joining forces with the man who killed your father.

The blood drained from Dimitri's face:

- If what you say is the truth... If this man murdered my father... – his spear shifted to point at Thales. – Then you and I have much to talk about. Till then...nobody lays a hand on you.

Thales' smile turned predatory as he appeared in front of Edelgard, dark magic crackling around his fingers:

- Oh, but I must collect what's mine—

Steel flashed. Thales barely jerked back in time as Violet's blade sliced through the space where his neck had been, the force of her swing sending Edelgard stumbling back.

- I don't know what messed-up experiment you wanted to run on her. – Violet snarled, positioning herself between Thales and the others . – But I know a vivisectionist's look when I see one. – her sword hummed with blue energy.  – So you're Thales. The big bad of Those Who Slither in the Dark.

- You are… – Thales studied her with newfound interest. – That anomaly the reports mentioned. – his eyes gleamed hungrily. "Fascinating. Your energy signature resembles our own.

- Don't you dare compare me to your kind. – Violet's lip curled in disgust. – I'm not from this world, and I sure as hell don't play with people's lives like toys. – she twirled her sword. – Now, how about you start talking before I start cutting off more than just your fingers?

Thales vanished, only to reappear behind Edelgard. But Violet was faster. Her blade arced through the air with a sound like screaming metal, and a black-gloved finger went spinning to the ground.

- Nuh-uh. – Violet tsked, appearing between them again in a blur of motion. – You listen when I'm talking, or next time it'll be something more important than a finger.

Thales teleported back, Violet matching him move for move. Then, with a final glare, he vanished completely, this time not reappearing. The courtyard fell silent save for the heavy breathing of the combatants. Violet kept her sword raised for a long moment before finally lowering it:

- Coward.

Dimitri's gauntlet shot out, gripping Edelgard's pauldron before she could retreat:

- Now, Edelgard. We're not done yet.

Violet's sword came down between them with a decisive clang, forcing Dimitri to release his hold:

- Let them go!

The king whirled on her, his eyes blazing:

- Let them go? What are you talking about, Violet? We're not—

- Done? No, we're not. – Violet sheathed Shooting Star with deliberate slowness. – But we reached victory here. That's more than enough for me.

- For you? – Dimitri's grip on Areadbhar turned his knuckles white.

Violet met his glare without flinching:

- I'll discuss the matter with you later. – she turned to Edelgard, who stood frozen in the shadow of the broken gates. – And you, stay sharp on Thales. That bastard's not done with you.

Edelgard's lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. The Emperor simply turned, her crimson cloak swirling as she disappeared into the smoke-choked battlefield, her remaining forces retreating with her. Dimitri made to pursue, but Violet's hand on his pauldron stopped him cold:

- Don't.

She looked as they fled. Dimitri’s gauntlet clamped around Violet’s shoulder, spinning her to face him as the last of Edelgard’s forces disappeared beyond the fortress gates. His eyes burned with barely restrained fury.

- What is the meaning of this? We were this close to ending the Emperor’s war! And you just, let them leave?

- Relax, Dimitri. – she didn’t flinch from his grip. – I have an idea. A way to turn this bloodshed into something useful. Gather everyone in the war room, and I mean everyone. The Church included.

- I better not regret this. – his jaw worked silently before he released her with a shove.

The air was thick with tension as the leaders of Fódlan’s factions assembled. Rhea’s emerald gaze settled on Violet, who leaned against the strategy table with her usual irreverence.

- Ladies, gentlemen, and Felix, thanks for showing up.

Felix rolled his eyes.

- Violet, this is... unexpected. You’ve never called a war council before. – Rhea said

- True. But I’ve been watching. All of you. – her finger traced the map, circling Adrestia, Faerghus, and Leicester. – The Empire’s warmongering, the Kingdom’s stubborn pride, the Church’s secrets, I’ve seen enough to know how to fix this mess. But first? We negotiate with Edelgard.

- Are you mad? – Dimitri snapped. – Need I remind you they butchered civilians? Invaded our lands? And you want to talk?

- Yes. Because on that battlefield, we all saw the real enemy. – she met his glare. – Thales. The monsters lurking in the dark. They’re the rot at the heart of this war.

- What exactly are you suggesting? – Rhea didn’t understand her.

- C’mon, Rhea. You know who I mean. Those Who Slither in the Dark – she smirked. – I say we find their hole, Shambhala, and burn it to the ground. But first? We need the Empire.

- So you want to infiltrate Shambhala. – Seteth said.

- Bingo.

- Lady Rhea, do you know this 'Thales'? – Dimitri's turned to Rhea.

- Yes...he is Lord Arundel.

A stunned silence fell over the room. Dimitri's eyes widened:

- Is this true?

Rhea's emerald gaze grew distant:

- Edelgard revealed this to me before her retreat. Volkhard von Arundel conspired with Tomas and his ilk. – her voice turned bitter. – For years, he was a devout follower of the Church...until his contributions ceased abruptly. In hindsight, such a sudden change should have raised alarms.

- Just like Tomas - a complete personality shift overnight. We saw the same with Cornelia in Faerghus.

- Cornelia? – Rhea's brow furrowed. – The mage who cured the plague? We had our suspicions, but—

- Indeed. I now believe she conspired with Arundel in my father's murder. I had assumed them Imperial agents, but... – his gaze flicked to Violet. – The Emperor herself was attacked by that dark mage at Arianrhod.

- That man, Thales, the Emperor clearly recognized him. – Seteth crossed his arms.

- She also claimed he killed my father. While I'm loath to trust an enemy's word...the pieces fit.

- So we've got our real targets. – Violet stretched lazily, breaking the tension. – I can go talk to Edelgard myself, but showing up alone might look...suspicious.

- Felix will accompany you. – Dimitri considered this. – We'll send word to Enbarr announcing your diplomatic mission.

- Babysitter duty again? Please.

- We'll leave as soon as they respond. – Felix scowled. – Your Majesty, we should secure Arianrhod first.

- Agreed. – Dimitri turned back to the map. – We'll reinforce our defenses before Edelgard regroups. – his eyes met Violet's. – And...be careful.

- Please. It's me we're talking about.

Chapter Text

Chapter 35 – Common Enemy

The throne room of Enbarr was deathly silent as Violet and Felix stepped forward, Imperial spears gleaming at their throats.

- This was your brilliant plan? – Felix said through gritted teeth. – Get us executed before negotiations even start?

- Relax, kitten. – Violet smirked. – If things go south, I’ll personally carry you out of here.

Edelgard’s gaze burned from atop her throne:

- What possessed you to believe walking into my capital was wise? I allowed this audience only because your message claimed to have a proposal. But sending you, the so-called ‘Violet Demon’, reeks of mockery.

- Still not being murdered by Thales I see. Relax, Eddy. This was my idea.

A ripple of murmurs spread through the court at the casual nickname. Edelgard’s grip on her armrest tightened:

- Then speak. What is this proposal?

- We’ve got a common enemy, don’t we? – she took a step forward, ignoring the spears that twitched toward her. – See, I’ve got ears everywhere. Heard you’re not exactly fond of Thales and his little cult. You’ve been using them, sure, but they’ve been using you too, haven’t they?

Edelgard’s expression darkened.

- That day in Arianrhod. – Violet continued. – What do you think he wanted with you? A pat on the back? Or a knife in it?

Edelgard’s silence was answer enough.

- Here’s the deal. – Violet pressed. – Adrestia, Faerghus, the Church and me, we all want those rats dead. I don’t give a damn about your war, but I do care about the bastards pulling strings from the shadows. – she leaned in, her voice dropping to a purr. – So. You can take my hand, let us march through your territory to Hrym, and burn their nest to the ground... or you can slap it away and keep fighting. But ask yourself, who’s really winning then? Thales? Or me?

The throne room held its breath. Finally, Edelgard spoke:

- Under any other circumstances, allying with the Church would be unthinkable. But... this could be our chance.

- Smart girl.

- However. – she rose, her voice sharpening. – One condition. Once this is done, you leave Dimitri’s army and the Church. A temporary truce, nothing more.

Violet threw back her head and laughed:

- Oh, you’ve got spine! Fine. But in return? You will consider peace when this is over.

-...very well. We’ll see.

- Good enough. – she turned on her heel, waving lazily. – Felix, we’re done here.

They both leave. Violet mockingly glaring at the Imperial soldiers.

Chapter Text

Chapter 36 – Two Kings

Violet strode into the throne room of Fhirdiad, her boots clicking against the marble floors. The sight of Claude lounging casually beside Dimitri's throne made her eyebrows shoot up.

- Claude? Didn't expect the Master Tactician himself to grace Fhirdiad with his presence today. – she smirked. – What's the occasion? Finally decided to pick a side?

- If it isn't the infamous Violet Demon! – Claude said grinning. – Just wrapping up some...mutually beneficial agreements. – he gestured between himself and Dimitri. – Turns out we make pretty good allies when we're not trying to out-scheme each other.

- The Federation has agreed to aid us should the Empire attack again.

- Hah. And here I was taking my sweet time negotiating with Edelgard. – she crossed arms. – We could've just crushed the Empire between our forces...but I suppose that would've been too straightforward.

- Speaking of which. – Dimitri leaned forward. – How did your conversation with the Emperor go?

- Better than expected. – Violet's smirk turned razor-sharp. – We've got a temporary truce - safe passage through Imperial territory to deal with Thales. – she paused dramatically. – However...

- ...however?

- I had to promise I'd leave your army and the Knights of Seiros afterward. In return, she'll consider peace once we've wiped out Those Who Slither.

- That is...disappointing. – Dimitri's expression darkened. – But tell me she didn't ask you to join her forces?

- Please. – she waved a hand dismissively. – Even if I weren't bound to the Church, my loyalty lies with you, Dimitri. I'm not the betraying type.

- Why not join me instead? – Claude leaned in with a mischievous glint. – I don't recall Edelgard specifying anything about the Federation...

- Now that's an idea worth considering. – Violet chuckled. – After we've dealt with Thales.

- In that case, you have my leave to proceed. – Dimitri stood up. – And Violet... – his gaze softened slightly. – Thank you.

- Just doing my job, Your Majesty.

Chapter Text

Chapter 37 – Three Mercenaries

Violet strolled into the Federation camp, her white armor clinking as she passed golden banners fluttering in the evening breeze. Her sharp eyes immediately landed on the familiar teal-haired swordsman.

- Well, well. If it isn't the Ashen Demon himself. – she said. – Last I saw, you were with the Empire. Claude must be really desperate.

- What can I say? Even mercenaries have a soft spot for my charm. – Claude said with a lazy grin.

- We’ve been…offered better terms. – Byleth said flatly

- Ha! Like a true merc - all business, I see. – she tilted her head. – But…since when do your powers stick around? Last I checked, Shez’s form could go away at her will. And same for me.

- It is permanent now. I don’t know why.

A familiar voice cut through the air:

- Try fighting him like that. Absolute nightmare.

Shez emerged behind Violet, her armour was different from before, a sleek combination of dark orange and black.

- Shez! – in a flash, Violet had her in a headlock. – Such familiar colours. Are you trying to dress like me?

- Hey, not trying to copy you. I had the same colour scheme when we first met, remember? This is just an upgrade. And I see you’re still wearing your Church’s white armour. – she jerked a thumb at Byleth. – Also, I'm the one who convinced Mr. Stoic here to join up. Let’s say they didn’t have another option.

- Ha, and here I thought I could take him on round 2 in the war. Or you, if we were to battle Leicester.

- Not taking my chances with you now. I’ve heard what happened at Arundel, so I better keep away from becoming your enemy. – a pause. – So what, you're joining up with us now?

- Not yet. Just here because Claude asked nicely. – she shot the scheming leader a look. – Been running with the Lions too long. Figured it was time to reconnect with an old friend.

- In that case, let us make a grand fist due to our diplomatic victory and our new future ally. – Claude announced.

- Hope Leicester can cook something crazy spicy. Otherwise I'll be disappointed..

- Haha, don't worry we can find something that suits your tastes.

Chapter 37x – Claude. Scheming King

The cool night air carried the scent of pine and distant campfires as Violet leaned against the balcony railing. Claude joined her, swirling a glass of wine that caught the moonlight like liquid rubies.

- Hey, Claude. How are you doing?

- I saw how much you drank tonight. Would be a shame if you ruined this beautiful balcony. – he took a sip, watching her over the rim of his glass.

- Don't worry your pretty head. I used to drink mercs under the table for fun. – she smirked, then cut straight to the point. – So. What's your real goal?

- Whatever do you mean?

- Come on. I can taste the scheming on you. – she turned to face him fully. – As long as it doesn't threaten Dimitri, I'm all ears.

A beat of silence. Then.

- What do you think of the Church? Of Rhea?

- There are bad apples everywhere. I just follow orders. – she shrugged. – Mostly harmless.

- And if I said I wanted to tear it all down? Not just the Church's influence, the whole rotten system. Nobility. Crests. All of it.

- Honestly? Not the worst idea. – her fingers tightened on the railing. – The Church helps people, sure. But sometimes...sometimes I wonder if I'm fighting for the right side.

- Wow. Those are dangerous words for a Knight of Seiros.

- Don't get me wrong. I'll see this truce through. But Rhea... – her voice dropped. – Remember the assassination of the Southern Church bishop?

- Bernadetta's father? I heard it was a heart attack.

- I killed him.

The wine glass stilled in Claude's hand.

- I didn't know. But Rhea did. She sent me to murder my friend's father and called it justice.

The night seemed to grow colder.

-...we can change that.

- I will change it. Your way starts more wars. – she pushed off the railing. – But...I'll think about your suggestion. Tomorrow, we finish Thales. After that...

She left the words hanging in the air as she walked away, her white armor gleaming like a ghost in the moonlight.

Claude didn't stop her. For once, the master schemer had nothing to say.

Chapter Text

Chapter 38 – To Finish Off TWSITD

The combined forces of Fódlan stood at the mouth of the Hrym mountain pass, where Edelgard and her Black Eagles awaited. The air crackled with uneasy tension as the three rulers faced each other for the first time without weapons drawn.

- Never thought I'd see the day all three nations marched under the same banner. – Claude said with hands behind his head.

- You can thank your Knight of Seiros for that. – Edelgard crossed her arms. – She was...persuasive in negotiations.

- And I expect you to hold up your end, Eddelgard. – Violet leaned on her sword.

- This alliance ends the moment Thales falls. – Dimitri’s gaze was sharp. – I suggest no one forgets that.

- We'll see. – Edelgrard narrowed her eyes. – For now, let us focus on the true enemy.

Violet gestured to the narrow cave entrance:

- Shambhala isn't built for armies. That's why we're taking only the best.

The chosen fighters, Byleth, Shez, Felix, Dedue, Hubert, Ferdinand, Hilda, Lorenz, as well as three rulers, followed Violet into the darkness.

The tunnel twisted deeper than any natural cave should, the walls smooth as if carved by something other. When they emerged, even the most stoic among them froze. Before them stretched a city of nightmares and wonders. Towers of Black Glass that reflected no light. Giant Metal Titans standing motionless like forgotten sentinels. Streets that glowed with eerie blue veins of energy.

-…what is this place?

- This is no mere hideout. It's a civilization.

- Yeah, a creepy one.

- They've been here a long time.

- And we will burn it to the ground. – Violet finished.

The alarms of Shambhala screamed to life, red lights pulsing against the alien architecture as Agarthan soldiers poured into the “streets”. Violet merely shrugged, a wild grin splitting her face.

- Welp. We've been noticed. – she cracked her neck. – Everyone, playtime's over. No prisoners today. Kill everyone who moves.

Her eyes flicked to Shez, whose grip on her blades was uncharacteristically shaky.

- Hey. You good?

- Peachy. – Shez forced a smirk.

Violet didn't press further. With a single leap, she launched herself off the platform and slammed into the first titan like a comet.

The mechanical monstrosity swung its massive arm, only for Violet to vanish mid-air, reappearing behind its knee. Shooting Star flashed, and the titan's leg collapsed in a shower of sparks. Before it could react, she was already above it, her sword carving through its core like paper. The titan crumbled, its shattered frame crashing to the neon-lit ground.

Dark mages rushed forward, spells crackling in their palms, only for Violet to laugh as she moved. ne mage barely had time to scream before his torso slid cleanly from his hips. Another found her hand clamped around his face, his skull crunching against the glowing floor with a sickening pop. The remaining two turned to flee, but Violet was faster. A blur of white and steel. A wet thud. Then silence.

She straightened, blood dripping from her blade just as the Viskam hummed to life, their barrels charging with deadly light.

- Oh, it’s that thing again?

In the space between heartbeats, she was gone. The first Viskam exploded in a shower of sparks as her sword carved through its core. Before the second could adjust its aim, she materialized atop it, driving her blade straight through its lens with a snarl.

As the wreckage collapsed around her, Violet landed lightly, her demonic aura flickering like blue fire.

She found herself at the door.

- Well, that might be something.

The door exploded under her punch. Violet kicked aside the shattered remains of the door, her boots crunching on broken glass as she stepped into Thales' sanctum. The Agarthan leader stood calmly behind a shimmering barrier, his expression unreadable.

- Fancy place you got here. – she wiped blood from her blade. – Sorry to break it to you. – a vicious grin. – Get it? Break it? To you?

- Your insolence knows no bounds. Tell me, beast, what is your true goal?

- Killing you, of course.

She lunged, only for her sword to skid harmlessly off his barrier.

- Thought we could chit-chat? No way. – her demonic aura flared, eyes burning blue. – I've waited years for this. Every war, every massacre, you pulled the strings. Time to cut them.

- Hmph. This is the fate you deserve.

- That all you've got? Then let me just—

A blur of dark orange and black slammed between them.

Shez's hand drove straight through Thales' chest like a blade through water, her fingers closing around his still-beating heart. But the voice that came from her lips was not her own.

- You've played your part well, Thales. But your role...ends here.

- You—? That voice! No...it can't be...Epimenides—! – blood bubbled from his lips.

The thing wearing Shez's face smirked, its grip tightening. Then it looked at Violet over its shoulder, eyes glowing with unnatural orange light.

- ...

A pulse of dark energy. And then nothing. Shez was gone. Thales' corpse collapsed. The room was empty.

Violet burst out of the ruins of Thales' chamber, her white armor streaked with blood and soot. The unnatural glow of Shambhala’s neon lights cast eerie reflections across the battlefield as she scanned the chaos.

Dimitri was at her side in an instant, his voice tight with urgency:

- Violet! Shez attacked Byleth. They're outside!

Her instincts flared, they weren’t far.

- Leave some troops to clean up the rest. You, Claude, Edelgard - with me.

They didn’t argue. The group rushed back through the winding tunnels of the cave, emerging into the harsh daylight of the Hrym Mountains. The scene before them was chaos, scattered Agarthan forces regrouping, their weapons humming with forbidden energy. And in the center of it all, Shez and Byleth clashed, their movements a blur of steel and unnatural power.

One of the Agarthans stepped forward, his voice dripping with venom:

- We will not let you interfere. Today, we finally take our revenge on Sothis!

- Tch! – she didn’t even glance back. – Dimitri, Claude, Edelgard, go! I’ll handle this.

The Agarthan snarled, thrusting his hand forward. Dark energy coalesced into a writhing mass of Miasma, hurtling toward Edelgard only for Violet to blur into its path.

Her sword flashed once. The spell split like rotten fruit, dissipating into nothing.

- I said I’ll take care of you. – her gaze swept over the remaining Agarthans, twenty, maybe thirty, all armed, all desperate. A slow smirk curled her lips. – Strange. I was sure there were fewer of you left. No matter, I’ll make sure this is the last of you.

Violet moved like a storm given form, no demonic aura, no shadowy pets, just her, her blade, and the lethal precision of a warrior who had spent a lifetime perfecting the art of killing.

A swordsman lunged, his black steel gleaming. Violet sidestepped, her own sword lashing out in a silver arc. The man’s head left his shoulders before his body realized it was dead. Two more came at her from either side, spells crackling at their fingertips. She ducked under the first blast, rolling forward and coming up inside the second mage’s guard. Her elbow smashed into his throat, crushing his windpipe. As he gagged, she pivoted, driving her blade through the first mage’s chest.

A spear thrust toward her back. She twisted, catching the shaft with her free hand, and yanked. The spearman stumbled forward, only to meet her knee rising to meet his face. Bone crunched. She didn’t wait to watch him fall. The remaining Agarthans hesitated.

- What’s wrong? Scared of a woman without her tricks?

They attacked as one. She met them with a grin. A dagger flew toward her throat, she batted it aside with her sword, closing the distance in two strides. Her pommel cracked into the attacker’s temple, dropping him like a sack of grain. Another swung a massive axe, she ducked, her blade slicing upward through his ribs.

A spellcaster at the back began chanting, dark energy swirling around him. Violet snatched a fallen dagger from the ground and hurled it. The blade found its mark, his eye, and the spell died with him.

The last few Agarthans broke, turning to flee.

- Oh no you don’t.

She was on them in seconds. One fell with a slash across his hamstrings, crumpling to the ground. The next barely had time to scream before her sword pierced his heart. The final one turned, raising his hands in surrender, her blade silenced him too.

Silence.

Violet's head snapped toward Shez just in time to see it, a swirling black dome, like liquid shadow, engulfing her, Byleth and the lords.

- No!

She lunged forward, but her fingers grasped only empty air. The dome collapsed in on itself, leaving no trace behind. Felix and the others arrived moments later, weapons drawn.

- Where's Dimitri?

Violet stared at the empty space where they'd stood:

-...Gone. Just...gone.

- So even our Violet, white robes stained red, doesn't have all the answers.

She didn't rise to the bait, her eyes scanning the battlefield:

- I just...can't see them.

The group stood in tense silence, the wind howling through the mountains. Then. A ripple in the air. The same black dome materialized, unfolding like a nightmare, and spat out Dimitri, Claude, Edelgard, Byleth and Shez. Violet was moving before they fully hit the ground.

- What the hell was that?! – she demanded, hands already checking Dimitri for injuries.

Shez waved her off, breathing hard:

- Later. Just...later. – she met Violet's eyes. – It's over. And it won't happen again.

Edelgard rose to her feet, her crimson armor dulled by dust and battle. Dimitri stood moments after, his piercing gaze locked onto hers. For a long moment, the two rulers simply stared, years of war and bloodshed hanging heavy between them.

- The Empire will...consider the deal. – Edelgard started. – For now, the truce remains active until your forces have withdrawn, Your Majesty. – her title dripped with barely veiled disdain.

- And Her Majesty should be grateful we aren't pressing our advantage after what transpired at the border. – Dimitri’s jaw tightened.

- It's called war.

A beat of silence. The air crackled with unsaid accusations.

- Regardless. We return home today. See that your men honor the ceasefire.

- And do resist the urge to slaughter any stray Imperial soldiers on your way back. – her gaze flicked to Violet. – Remember our agreement. Your place in this is over. Farewell, Dimitri. Claude.

Without another word, she turned, her crimson cape billowing as she strode toward her waiting troops. Claude whistled:

- Well. That went...better than expected.

Violet approached Dimitri, her white armor streaked with ash and blood. When she took his hand, her grip was firm, but her eyes held something softer, something mournful.

- Well, Dimitri...looks like this is where we part ways. – her thumb brushed over his knuckles, a quiet gesture. – I wish I could stay. But a deal's a deal.

- You were the strongest among us. We would not have survived our darkest battles without you. – his voice was low, rough with unspoken gratitude.

- At least I got what I came for.

- And what was that?

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she turned her gaze to the corpses littering the ground, Agarthans, their schemes finally stilled.

- It’s over now. – her voice dropped, almost gentle. – You’re free. From them. From the ghosts they made you carry.

For a moment, the weight of years, of shared battles, of grief, of vengeance, hung between them. Then Violet tightened her grip, covering their clasped hands with her other palm.

- When the war ends...I’ll visit. Promise. – a faint smirk tugged at her lips. – Till then, let me and Claude just aid you indirectly from Leicester.

She released his hand, stepping back. Dimitri didn’t try to hold on.

Claude waited for her at the edge of the field, his usual grin in place, but his eyes were watchful. Violet fell into step beside him without looking back.

Chapter Text

Chapter 39 – New Shadows of the War

The Leicester war room, bathed in the dim glow of candlelight. Maps of Fódlan are spread across the table, marked with troop movements and potential fronts. Claude leaned against the edge, arms crossed, as Violet entered. The air is tense, war looms, and trust is fragile.

- Ah, Violet. Perfect timing. – he gestured to the map. – Dimitri’s forces have integrated ours, while Lorenz, Raphael, and Marianne are now under his command. Meanwhile, the Empire’s gathering strength around Garreg Mach.

- Why Garreg Mach?

- Two theories: Either it’s a foothold for their advance, or Edelgard just enjoys rubbing salt in the Church’s wounds. Either way, we stay sharp. – his gaze drifted to her attire, an orange jacket, starkly different from the white armor of the Knights of Seiros. – I see you’ve ditched the Church’s colors. Finally embracing your inner mercenary again?

- These are my normal clothes. I wore them long before I ever joined the Knights.

Claude chuckles, but his tone shifts as he recalls something:

- Right. Well, Edelgard knows you’re with us now. That might make her hesitate, if she invades the Church or Kingdom, she’ll have to factor you in.

- We’re cooperating with the Kingdom militarily. If she attacks them, we should respond.

- Dimitri and I agreed that your direct involvement could escalate things. The Empire already sees you as a wildcard. If you charge onto the battlefield, they might throw everything they’ve got at us.

- And I could destroy them, if they will. But fine. But if things go south, I want you on the front lines too. Not just pulling strings from the shadows.

- That a request or a demand?

- A request.

Claude studies her for a long moment before nodding:

- Depends on the circumstances. But I’ll keep it in mind.

Violet turned to leave, her boots clicking against the stone floor. As she reached the door, Claude called after her, his voice lighter.

- Hey, Violet?

She paused but didn’t look back.

- Orange suits you.

The door shuts behind her.

Outside the war room, the evening air is cool, the sky painted in hues of twilight. Shez and Byleth sat on a weathered stone bench, deep in conversation. Violet approached, her boots crunching lightly on the gravel path.

- You two look serious. What’s up?

Shez glanced up, grinning:

- Just debating how weird powers work. Y’know, voices in your head, glowing swords, that kinda thing. – she patted the space beside her. – Wanna join?

- Don’t mind if I do.

Byleth studied her, his gaze unreadable:

- You’ve got your own… quirks.

- So, Violet, got any creepy voices talking to you? – Shez leaned forward, curious. – Like, a ghostly roommate up here? – she taps her temple.

Violet paused, considering:

- No voices. But I’ve got a partner.

At her words, the shadows at her feet ripple. Crimson dots flickered to life within the darkness, like embers in a void. Shez jerked back:

- Woah! What the hell is that?!

Byleth didn’t flinch, but his hand drifted toward his sword.

- Mavka. Say hello. – Violet smirked.

The shadow writhed, and a voice, hollow, dripping with disdain, echoes from nowhere and everywhere at once:

- Oh, wonderful. The meatbags want a chat. How about you both shut your mouths before I crawl out and make you?

- Uh. – Shez blinked. – Did you… hear that?

- No. – Byleth shook his head.

- Thought so. – Violet’s smirk widened.

- Okay, be honest, how do I get a cool shadow monster? – Shez grinned, poking at Violet's shadow with her boot.

- I dunno. – she shrugged. – Got through hell to get her. For some reason only me, and maybe demons from her world, can hear her. Nearly died, while keeping her sorry ass out there.

- Hey! – Mavka hissed.

- Other worlds? – Shez tilted her head.

- Oops. That was a slip.

- Can you elaborate? – Byleth asked.

Violet exhales:

- Fine, fine. I’m from the place called Tellius originally. You won’t find it anywhere on the maps. – she smirked. – Got myself through different worlds, and kinda got my powers in one of them. Funny story! Killed a semi-god or something, then his essence went inside me, regaining power to take over my body. Though my rage out-raged him. Get it? Out-raged?

- No way! You're a world-hopper? Like in those storybooks?

- Sort of. We’re called ‘travelers’. Kinda like warriors who can save the world and bluh-bluh. Who knows, maybe you will be called once as well.

- Why Fódlan?

- Didn’t pick it. It works kinda weird. Basically, whenever there’re some important events going on, it must proceed as fate suggests. But sometimes, an ‘error’ occurs that leads an event off curse. After that, the world’s fate starts degenerating and over time it dies.

- Hey, I wanna be that ‘traveler’ guy too! – Shez stood up abruptly.

- Maybe you will.  – Violet smirked. – By the way, what was that a few days back? When your hair turned almost completely orange and you attacked Mr. Personality.

- Ah, that. – Shez sat back. – That was Arval. For some time, they were my partner, a voice in my hand. Weird, right?

- I’ve seen worse things, that doesn’t surprise me.

- Well, apparently, they were just a creation of someone called Epimenides. Their goal was to kill Sothis. And Byleth apparently has Sothis inside him. – she forced a smile. – Now they are gone.

- Sothis? As if the Goddess? You sure should mix like oil and water. And yet… – Violet stopped herself. – Never mind. Probably the best both of you are on one side. – then she turned to Byleth. – And you, oh, protective mother of all, how did you get yours?

- I was born with it. – Byleth’s expression was stoic.

- Just like that? You know, your hair reminds me of someone. – she rubbed her chin. – No. I know what you are.

- Violet?

- Forget it. – Violet sighed. – I’ll go to my room. It has been nice talking to you. – she turned to leave, turning head over her shoulder. – Maybe next time I’ll show you my other pet demon.

- You’ve got another one?! – Shez’s eyes widened.

But Violet didn’t respond, just waved them as she left.

Chapter Text

Chapter 40 – The End of Peace

The fragile truce that had held Fódlan in an uneasy peace was unraveling like a frayed rope, strand by strand.

In the shadow of the Oghma Mountains, the ancient monastery of Garreg Mach stood silent, its halls empty of students and its pews devoid of prayer. The Black Eagle banners of the Adrestian Empire now fluttered from its towers, their crimson fabric stark against the pale stone. The Imperial Army had marched in unopposed, there had been no defenders left to resist, no Knights of Seiros to raise their blades.

Yet the conquest was not without consequence. From the Holy Tomb to the Cathedral’s spires, the Central Church decried the occupation as sacrilege. Archbishop Rhea’s voice, carried by messengers and sermons across the Kingdom and Alliance, declared the Empire’s actions "an affront to the Goddess herself." The faithful whispered of retribution, of divine wrath yet to come. But for now, the Empire held the monastery, and its soldiers patrolled the ruins of a place once considered untouchable.

To the north, the Kingdom of Faerghus braced itself. Imperial forces had massed along two fronts. Arundel Territory, where Duke Aegir’s troops stood poised like a blade at the Kingdom’s throat. Garreg Mach, now a staging ground for invasion, its strategic position allowing the Empire to strike deep into Faerghus heartlands.

Dimitri’s generals argued strategy in Fhirdiad’s war rooms. Some called for a preemptive strike before the Empire could solidify its hold. Others cautioned patience, Leicester’s alliance was still uncertain, and Claude’s true intentions remained shrouded in half-truths.

Meanwhile, in the Leicester Federation, Claude von Riegan watched the pieces move with a strategist’s cold calculation. His letters to Dimitri spoke of unity, but his agents moved in the shadows, probing for weakness in both friend and foe. The question hung heavy in the air: When the storm breaks, which side will Leicester truly stand on?

The year was 1182. The drums of war sounded once more.

Violet pushed open the doors:

- You called?

- Yes. – Claude looked up from his maps. – The Empire and Kingdom are fighting again. Reports say Dimitri's forces entered Garreg Mach territory an hour ago with Rhea. – he tapped the map. – This is our chance to strike.

- Change of position? Few weeks ago you said the Federation wouldn't engage because my presence would provoke the Empire.

- I've spoken with Byleth and Shez about your capabilities. You're stupidly terrifying. I think we’re safe.

- I'll take that as a compliment. – Violet smirked.

- It doesn't matter how many troops the Empire sends against us, you'll prevail. – Claude traced a line on the map. – In their current state, Dimitri's army could crush Edelgard's easily. The Imperial forces are weak.

- Sooooo? – Violet tilted her head.

- We can pursue our own goals now. – a pause. – We need to remove Rhea. Worst case, we kill her. But I'd prefer to avoid that.

The air grew heavy. The only sound was the distant call of a raven outside the stained-glass windows. Violet's fingers tightened around the armrests of her chair:

- Tell me you're joking.

Claude didn't blink. His silent headshake spoke volumes.

- I won't be part of this. – Violet's voice cut like tempered steel.

- Why? You've said yourself Rhea's no saint. You wanted change.

- Not like this. This is too radical

A beat passed. Then Claude exhaled through his nose, that infuriating smirk returning:

- Fine. Operation abandoned. – he spread his hands. – The whole plan relied on you anyway.

- I've got a better offer. – Violet's sudden grin was all teeth. – Remember your dream? A world without Crests or nobility?

- I’m intrigued.

- I can partially do it. I’ll destroy the Hero Relics. – Violet's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. – All of them. This is quite a good opportunity. The only side without relics in one place is yours.

Claude's breath caught. His fingers steepled under his chin:

- You're telling me you can actually do that?

- Won't know until I try.

- And after?

- Negotiations. – Violet said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

- Just like that? – his eyebrow rose.

Violet's eyes exploded with blue fire. Her hair lifted in an unseen wind as demonic energy crackled through the room:

- I'll make them listen. With words first. Then threats. Then blood if needed. – the aura vanished as suddenly as it appeared. Violet blinked back to normalcy, smiling sweetly. – ...kinda like that.

Claude exhaled, his usual smirk absent. A bead of sweat traced his temple, whether from fear or exhilaration, even he wasn’t sure.

- Alright. – he said, voice measured. – What are your conditions?

- Don’t know yet. – Violet tilted her head, considering.

- You don’t—? – Claude blinked.

- I need to hear them first. All sides. – she crossed her arms. – The Church’s influence will be cut down, but I won’t dismantle it completely. And before you argue, all three countries want that, deep down. Even Dimitri. He just won’t say it.

- And my side?

- Don’t worry about it. – her smirk returned, sharp as a knife. – I’ll make sure everyone walks away at least a little pissed off.

A pause. Then Claude barked a laugh:

- That’s one way to do it.

- We figure out the solution at the table. Not before.

- Then we move out this evening.

Violet pushed off the chair, already heading for the door:

- I’ll be waiting.

Chapter Text

Chapter 41 – Judgement Cut

The air smelled of smoke and steel. Claude stood at the ruined gates of the monastery, his bow already nocked, his eyes sharp. Behind him, the combined forces of Leicester and the Kingdom’s remnants waited, their breaths held in tense silence. The distant clash of steel and magic echoed from the Cathedral. Edelgard and Dimitri were already locked in their duel.

- Alright, listen up! – Claude called, his voice cutting through the din. – Imperial forces are dug in, but they’re scattered. We hit hard, we hit fast. Push through to the Cathedral, but don’t get bogged down.

His gaze flicked to Violet. She gave him a single, firm nod.

- What do you need from us? – Claude asked, voice low.

- Get to the Cathedral. – she said. – I’ll catch up.

- And you’re doing what, exactly? – Claude raised an eyebrow.

- Last-minute checks. – Violet smirked.

Before he could press further, she crouched, then launched herself into the sky with a burst of blue flame, her demonic aura flaring as she ascended. The soldiers below gasped as she hovered for a moment, scanning the battlefield like a hawk.

Then, with a flash, she shot toward the Cathedral, leaving only the faintest trail of embers in her wake. Claude exhaled, shaking his head:

- Show-off. – then, with a sharp whistle, he signaled the advance. – Move out!

The air inside the Cathedral was thick with the scent of blood and burning stone. The stained glass windows, once vibrant with the Goddess’s light, now cast fractured colors over the wreckage of war. Dimitri and Edelgard stood locked in their deadly dance, blades screaming against each other in a shower of sparks.

- Even if my father’s killer is dead, I will never forgive you, Edelgard. – Dimitri’s voice was a raw snarl. – Not after what you’ve done to my kingdom.

- Some people cannot accept the realities of war. – Edelgard parried, her eyes cold.

Nearby, Claude fought beside Rhea, his usual smirk strained. The Archbishop’s presence was oppressive, like standing too close to a wildfire. Claude cleared his throat:

- So, Rhea. How’s the weather? Pretty heated, huh?

- This is not the time for jests, King Claude. The hour demands seriousness.

Claude opened his mouth to retort. Then, the ceiling exploded. A streak of blue fire slammed into the center of the Cathedral like a falling star. The shockwave sent soldiers tumbling, their weapons clattering to the ground. Dimitri and Edelgard barely kept their footing, their boots skidding against the cracked stone.

Dust swirled, then parted, revealing Violet, crouched at the epicenter of the impact. Her hair burned with blue-violet flames. Violet’s voice was calm, almost conversational, as if she were discussing the weather rather than dictating the fate of nations.

- Ladies and gentlemen, and Felix.

A beat of silence. Somewhere in the back, Felix frowned. Violet continued, her voice carrying the weight of a judge’s gavel:

- Today, we’ve gathered here, and I’ve got a proposal. Edelgard, Dimitri, Claude, Rhea. Your fighting ends here. We’re making peace, whether you like it or not.

Edelgard’s grip on Aymr tightened:

- And why should we do that? Our goals have not yet been reached.

- You’re the last one who should talk. – Violet’s eyes burned brighter. – You’re losing. Badly. – she turned to the others. – But for the rest of you, here’s the truth. Every single one of you wants peace. You just want it on your own terms. So here’s the deal: You will sit with me at the table, and we will discuss it.

Rhea’s emerald eyes flashed with divine wrath:

- Unacceptable! Edelgard has desecrated this holy ground. She mocks the Goddess with her very presence! There will be no peace while she draws breath!

Edelgard smirked, though her hands shook:

- Finally, you show your true nature. But I must agree, there will be no peace while you live, Rhea.

For a fraction of a second, the two women locked eyes, then lunged. Violet sighed:

- Guess we’re doing it the hard way.

And then, she moved. The world stopped. Not metaphorically. Not as an exaggeration. Time, space, sound, everything within the Monastery’s walls froze in a single, suffocating instant, while Violet’s slashes were cutting everywhere. Complete Annihilation. Her blade, Shooting Star, became a storm of light, not slashing flesh, but the weapons. Hundreds of strikes. Thousands. Each one precise. Each one absolute. The Hero Relics, Aymr, Areadbar, Failnaught froze with their wielders alongside other weapons.

Then *click* the sound of her blade sliding back into its sheath. As if that click meant time resuming for them.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Edelgard stared at her hands, where Aymr had once been, only shattered pieces on the ground now. Now, only dust remained. Her breath came in short, ragged bursts, not from exertion, but from something far worse. Fear. Dimitri’s fingers twitched around the now-useless hilt of Areadbar, his eyes wide with disbelief. The weapon that had felled armies now crumbled like dried clay.

Rhea stood frozen, her divine wrath replaced by something far more primal, dread. Her sword had been destroyed in an instant.

Even Claude, who had known this was coming, felt his stomach drop as the remains of Failnaught slipped through his fingers.

And then Violet’s voice cut through the silence. Her smirk returned, sharp and unrepentant.

- So. Shall we finally talk?

Chapter Text

Chapter 42 – Negotiations

The air in the war room was thick with tension, the weight of centuries of conflict pressing down on the gathered leaders. The long table, once used for tactical discussions, now served as the stage for Fódlan’s reckoning.

Violet sat at the head, her elbow propped on the table, chin resting on her knuckles. Her eyes were closed, as if she were listening to something the others couldn’t hear, or perhaps simply waiting for the inevitable eruption.

The silence stretched. Then, without opening her eyes, she spoke.

- Are you going to sit there silent, glaring at each other like children, or are you going to actually speak?

A beat. Then Claude leaned forward, his usual smirk absent:

- I’ll start, then. The Central Church’s influence needs to be reduced. Significantly. The nobility system is outdated. Crests, bloodlines, all of it. It’s time for something new.

- I agree with Claude. …in part. – Edelgard’s voice was ice. – But half-measures won’t work. The Church’s history proves it will always reassert its dominance unless it is dismantled entirely. We don’t need the Goddess’s protection. We don’t need faith enforced by blades.

- That is insolence. – Rhea’s emerald eyes burned. – The Church has guided and protected Fódlan for centuries. You do not get to dictate its fate based on your petty grudges. The only justice here is Edelgard’s execution for her crimes.

- The Empire burned our homes. – Dimitri’s grip on the table tightened. – Orchestrated coups. Killed my people. Edelgard belongs in chains.

Violet’s sigh was heavy, as if the weight of Fódlan’s future pressed down on her shoulders.

- Fine. – her voice was calm, but the air in the room turned to ice. – That’s what we’ll do, then. Though I suppose everyone will leave here bitter today. – she straightened in her chair, her gaze sweeping over the table like a judge passing sentence. – First, the Church. – her eyes locked onto Rhea. – We’re going with Claude’s proposal. And by extension… mine. – a pause. – The Church’s influence will be reduced. It’s already weak in Adrestia. In Leicester, devotion plays important part, but it’s not that sighnificant. But in Faerghus… – she turned to Dimitri. – Faith matters to your people. But it controls them too much. So here’s the compromise: The Central Church keeps its temples, its rites, but no more political power. No more dictating laws. No more branding dissenters as heretics. – she leaned forward slightly. – Dimitri, I’m asking you, not ordering, to ease the Church’s grip. Let your people choose what they believe. No enforcement. No fear.

For a moment, the room was still. Then Rhea stood. Her chair screeched against the stone floor. Her emerald eyes burned with divine wrath, her voice trembling with barely restrained fury.

- You foolish girl! – her fingers dug into the table. – We have protected this land for centuries! You, an outsider, have no right to dictate the fate of Fódlan’s faith!

A blink. Violet was no longer seated. In the space between breaths, she had crossed the room, Shooting Star pressed against Rhea’s throat, the edge kissing skin. Her blue-flame eyes were devoid of mercy.

-...but you can?

The words were a whisper, yet they echoed like thunder. Behind Rhea, Catherine’s hand flew to her sword, but Seteth seized her wrist, his own face pale. Violet didn’t even glance their way.

- You sent me on your dirty work. – she murmured, the blade not wavering. – I watched you. You don’t see your enemies as people, just obstacles to burn. Even the smallest pawn, you’d crush without a thought. – a humorless smile touched her lips. – And I did it for you. You were not acknowledging my feelings. I didn’t see all your sins… but I saw enough. You’re vile. Merciless. Is that what the Goddess wanted? A ruler who slaughters in her name?

The silence that followed was suffocating. Then, slowly, Violet lowered her sword. She turned her back on Rhea, an act of sheer dominance, and returned to her seat as if nothing had happened.

- Reflect on that later. But this. – her eyes locked onto Rhea’s. – This is a demand. Not a request. – she turned to Edelgard, her gaze unflinching. – Now. The Empire. – a pause. The firelight flickered across Edelgard’s face, her eyes narrowed. – You will abandon your imperialist ambitions. – Violet’s tone left no room for debate. – I’ve read your history. I know this isn’t just about the Church. It’s about restoring Adrestia’s ‘former glory’, no matter the cost. The coups in the Kingdom. The deals with the Agarthans. – her fingers tapped the table once. – That ends. Today.

Edelgard’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t interrupt.

- You will lower your ambitions. In faith. In territory. In power. – Violet’s voice softened, but the steel beneath it remained. – The lands you seized will be returned. In exchange… you walk away unpunished.

- What?! – Dimitri slammed his fist onto the table. His voice was raw. – You’ll just…let her go? After everything? You were there, Violet! You saw what they did!

- And I killed every last one of them. No mercy. – Violet didn’t flinch.

- That doesn’t bring back the dead! – Dimitri’s voice cracked.

- No. – Violet agreed quietly. – It doesn’t. And that’s why I said everyone here will leave bitter. – she met his gaze. – I sympathize, Dimitri. Truly. But revenge won’t rebuild your kingdom. This… is the best path forward. For all of us.

Dimitri opened his mouth. Dedue’s hand settled on his shoulder:

- Your Majesty. – the king turned, his breath ragged. Dedue’s voice was steady. – We cannot return the dead. But we can live, for those still here.

- Dedue’s right. – Felix, uncharacteristically solemn, added. – Let it go, Dimitri.

For a moment, the king wavered. His hands trembled, not with rage, but with grief. The weight of five years of war, of loss, pressed down on him. Then, softly, Violet spoke again:

-...And I’ll help you. Whatever you need.

- I… accept these terms. – Edelgard’s voice was quiet, but firm. – No matter how bitter.

- Good. – Violet gave a single nod. – And remember. This is an act of mercy. – she gave Edelgard a glare. – You are alive only because I decided so. Rightfully so, you deserve to be punished, but I want all four sides to come back home alive.

A silence. Then she straightened, her gaze sweeping across the rulers.

- Now. The nobility. The Crests. – A pause. – Your Relics are already dust. That was the easy part. – her fingers traced the edge of the table. – Strip the nobles of their birthright privileges. Rebuild the systems. Use them as administrators if you must, they have experience, if nothing else. But let the next generations rise by skill, not blood. – her eyes hardened. – This will take decades. Centuries, maybe. But it starts today.

Claude leaned forward, fingers steepled:

- And the thrones? Power still passes by blood in all three nations. Won’t that contradict the new order?

- Do what you want with that. – Violet waved a hand. – I don’t care if you keep your crowns, just make sure the people beneath them aren’t shackled by a name. – she smirked, but there was no warmth in it. Her gaze shifted to Dimitri. – Faerghus will be the hardest. I know. –  her voice softened, just slightly. – But you’ve seen it yourself. A commoner, a foreigner at that, became your right hand. That’s the future, Dimitri. Not crests. Not lineage. People.

The king’s fists clenched, but not in anger. In resolve.

-...we’ll try.

- Good boy. – Violet’s smirk turned genuine.

The candles had burned low, their wax pooling like molten time itself. The weight of the future pressed down on the room, heavier than any blade. Violet’s voice was calm. Final.

- We’re almost done. – her fingers drummed once on the table. – Relationships. Restore them. – a pause. – I don’t care how. You were raised to rule, figure it out. Trade. Marriage. Open borders. Cry into your wine together. I don’t care. But no more wars. No more coups. No more knives in the dark. I will reach that peace no matter what. – her gaze swept the room, lingering on each ruler. – You were already at each other’s throats in the academy. I felt it. Now? You’ll cooperate. Again, this isn’t a request.

-...and what of you? – Seteth, uncharacteristically hesitant, broke the silence.

Violet’s lips curled. Not a smile. A baring of teeth.

- Me? – she leaned back, the chair creaking. – I’ll stay. Until I’m sure this peace isn’t just pretty words.

The air grew thick.

- Which brings me to my last condition. – her eyes ignited, blue flames swallowing the irises whole. – You obey. If I catch anyone conspiring? I kill them. No trials. No speeches. Just a blade through the throat before they hit the ground. – a beat. The firelight carved shadows across her face. – I’ll be watching. Every move. Every whisper. Every letter sealed with too much haste. – her voice dropped to a whisper. – Nothing escapes me. – she tilted her head. – Start a war? I kill the instigator. Meddle in another’s affairs? No mercy. Try to revive the Crest system? – a humorless chuckle. – Well. You’ll find out. – a beat. – Oh, and if anyone doesn’t believe I can do that. You can dare, but. – her glare was cold. – I warn you, consequences will be present there. For each and one of you.

The silence that followed was absolute.

- Any questions?

None came.

- Good. – Violet waved a hand. – Go home. Celebrate your peace. You’re dismissed.

One by one, they rose. Edelgard, her pride in tatters. Dimitri, his vengeance denied. Claude, his schemes upended. Rhea, her divinity shattered.

None dared speak. The doors shut behind them.

She exhaled, long and slow, the weight of the last hour settling into her bones. At her feet, Mavka’s crimson eyes blinked open in the shadow, glowing like embers in the dark.

- That was tense. – the demon’s voice was a dry rasp. – You almost looked like Veles back there.

-Who?

- Never mind. If we ever return to my world, maybe you’ll meet him. Assuming you actually get out of this world at any point.

- I’m intrigued. – a ghost of a smile touched Violet’s lips.

A beat of silence. Then.

- Is everything ready? – Violet asked.

- Yes. My fragments are latched onto all of them, leaders, archbishop, even that jumpy red-haired knight. If they so much as whisper treason, I’ll know. – a pause. – I’m impressed. Even I didn’t think of using me as a spy network.

- Hey, credit where it’s due. If you couldn’t split yourself into pieces, we’d be stuck playing detective the hard way. We actually make a great team here!

-…that wasn’t just you in there, was it? That was too cold. Too brutal. Even I got chills.

- They needed to believe I’d kill them without hesitation. – Violet’s smile faded. – I wanted to avoid it… but with people like Claude and Edelgard? Threats are the only language they respect.

- So. What now? Stay here and play babysitter to a continent?

- Yup.

- Why? – the demon’s voice sharpened. – Khronos could send you anywhere. You could be hopping worlds by dawn.

Violet leaned back, staring at the cracked ceiling:

- I don’t know. Maybe… I think I just want to accomplish something that isn't just changing the fate of the world... that I think I've already done at some point. – she closed her eyes. – Plus. Dimitri… that kid’s suffered enough. I want to help him.

Mavka’s silence was palpable. Then.

- Do you love him?

- I wouldn’t say love. No. – she tapped her chest absently. – But something… pulls me to stay. Besides, even if I did, Khronos made it clear. No mortal attachments. It never ends well for the poor bastard or the kid. Not that I planned it with Dimitri anyway.

A long pause. The wind howled through the broken cathedral like a mourning cry.

-...I see. – Mavka finally said. – Shall we go, then?

- Sure. – Violet pushed herself up, her chair scraping against stone.

She paused at the door, glancing back at the war table. Somewhere out there, Fódlan’s future teetered on the edge of a knife. And she will be watching.

Chapter Text

Chapter 43 – Changes

The year is 1184. Two years had passed since the war’s end. The southern reaches of Faerghus, once scarred by battle, now lay quiet under the watchful gaze of the woman they called the "Violet Demon." King Dimitri had granted her a house, a modest but sturdy structure nestled between the hills in one of the villages, far enough to avoid whispers in the city, yet close enough to strike should rebellion stir. It was a gift, or perhaps a plea: Stay. Watch. Ensure the peace holds.

And so she did. From her solitary outpost, Violet kept her promise. The shadows whispered to her through Mavka’s ever-watchful fragments, coiled around the hearts of rulers and rebels alike. When a noble in Adrestia schemed a coup in the neighbouring country, he was found dead in his room, his own dagger plunged through his notes. When the Kingdom's general called Dimitri to take revenge on the Empire, he awoke to the sight of a sword thrust into his bedroom door, a silent warning.

The people spoke of her in hushed tones. To some, she was a savior, the blade that severed Fódlan’s chains. To others, a monster, a merciless specter enforcing an unnatural peace. But all agreed on one thing:

The Violet Demon was real. And she was watching.

The afternoon sun streamed through the café windows as Violet idly stirred her tea. The porcelain cup looked comically small in her hands - hands that had shattered legendary weapons and toppled nations. She blew on the steaming liquid just as the bell above the door jingled.

Felix stood framed in the doorway, his sharp eyes scanning the place before landing on her. He moved with the same lethal grace she remembered, though his hair was slightly longer now.

- Felix? It's been... two years, hasn't it? You came here for—?

Felix slid into the chair across from her without invitation:

- Dimitri decided to assign me to personally report our affairs to you.

- Oh, I know that already. – Violet's lips curled as she took a sip.

- What?! – Felix stiffened.

- Hehe, you thought I was joking when I said I have eyes everywhere? – Violet's grin widened at his paling complexion. – Haha, why so pale? I was joking. About knowing you were assigned to me, of course.

Felix exhaled sharply through his nose:

- You're... unbelievably energetic for someone who threatened to murder world leaders in cold blood.

- Hey, that's why I love being me! – Violet leaned back, cup cradled in both hands.

- Whatever. – Felix muttered, rubbing his temple. – There's good news and bad news.

- I'm listening.

- Good news first. – Felix said, accepting the tea the waitress brought without looking. – We've started replacing regional leaders. Count Rowe's territory now answers to Yuri.

- Awful choice. – Violet nearly choked on her tea. – Though... – her eyes took on a dreamy quality. – He's handsome enough I'd give up my demonic powers for one night with him.

-...you spent more time explaining why you're attracted to him than why he's a bad appointment. – Felix stared.

- Can't help it. – Violet shrugged, unrepentant.

- Regardless. – Felix continued. – He's dangerous but competent. We need him for this job. The western regions are rebellious by nature. Though... – he hesitated. – There's been only one uprising in two years. It died out... unusually fast last winter.

- I wonder who could've helped with that. – Violet swirled her tea innocently.

-…yes. Dimitri is... grateful.

- And the bad news?

Felix's hands tightened around his cup:

- It's Dimitri. He's... not sleeping. Barely eating. No matter what you forced him to accept two years ago, he's still... – a muscle jumped in his jaw. – At this rate, he'll work himself to death within two years. And before you suggest it - no, threatening him won't work. He'd rather you kill him than stop.

Violet set her cup down with deliberate care:

- I see. – the playful glint returned to her eyes as she flagged down the waitress. – Well then, how about you join me for tea and tell me everything that's happened this past year?

As the waitress brought fresh cups, Violet's fingers traced the rim of her saucer thoughtfully. Somewhere beyond the café windows, a shadow darker than it should be slithered across the sunlit cobblestones.

Chapter Text

Chapter 44 – Iris

The year is 1187. Adrestian Emperor passes away, leaving no children to inherit the throne. Chaos emerges in the Empire. A massacre takes place in the Palace. Hubert perishes by the hands of traitors, leaving no loyal members to the Emperor alive. Tensions rise in several parts of the Empire. Brigid takes an opportunity and declares independence from the crown. Both Kingdom and the Alliance expect a civil war to take place, however they do not interfere due to their agreement. The Church, fearing the pressure from the allies, doesn’t take part in the affairs of Adrestia either.

Meanwhile in the south part of the Kingdom, Violet and Felix take a stroll in one of the bordering towns. Among the current affairs in the Kingdom they exchange their ideas about the future of Adrestia:

- Reports say, Brigid took power in its hands. – Felix began. They were staying under the roof as there was a rain outside. – Surprisingly, it is Petra, who was their leader. Given her loyalty to Edelgard during the war, I would’ve never imagined for Petra of all people to rebel against the crown. Tensions rise here on the border with us too, but the adrestians have not taken arms against us. …yet.

- Or maybe they won’t at all. – Violet responded.

- Yeah, it is the most logical thing for them to do.

- What about Claude? Any news from him.

- They said that they only harden the defense on the Myridin bridge. They say a lot of refugees are coming their way. Most are common folks. They also say that the girl from Varley County took refuge in the Alliance through the Church. Hmm, coward. – he frowned.

- Bernadetta? Come now! Didn’t you two had a good relationship during the Academy years? Not to mention she fought with us.

- Yeah, only after we captured her. Fleeing your country twice, that is just pathetic!

- Three, if you count the way she slipped into academy. – she smiled. – But Bernadetta is the kind of person who’d care for her own safety first. Whether you like it or not. … but at the same time. – she put her hand to her chin. – That isn’t really the case. Anyway, Bernie is a complicated character, ok? You can’t blame her for what she did. What about the others? Did any nobility flee?

- Well, aside from Varley, they said that Nuvelle left the Empire. Their whereabouts are unknown, they might be at the Church, they don’t report us that much nowadays. Other nobles are engaged in a fight for power. Pitiful. Most of them will just die.

- Although some cooperate, correct?

- Yeah, Ferdinand, Linhardt, Caspar and their respective houses made an alliance to repel the rebellious nobles. Surprisingly, they supported Brigid in its independence. Maybe they want their help.

- And what about our mercs? Shez and Byleth. Did they take either of the sides?

- We don’t know. Given the promise they gave to you, I highly doubt they’d take that job from any of the sides. Well, of course, we can only hope on their promise.

- Truly. This all thing might result in a civil war, if it doesn’t take place already. Of course, I also rely on Faergus and Leicester to not take part in this, as promised.

- Of course. Besides, you yourself promised that you’ll give us a long peace, if we obey. Unfortunately, we couldn’t say no. – he smiled.

- What was that? Now you’re just describing me as some kind of tyrant. C’mon, I just want the good for you. I even stay here for as long as it needed to ensure I’ll grant you the promised peace.

- I know, I know. I’m just joking.

- So, out of character for you. – she chuckled. – Hey, listen. About Bernadetta. Send a message to the Alliance that the Kingdom will grant her refuge.

- From what pocket?

- Yours, of course.

- That’s a terrible joke, Violet.

- I’m serious. Ok, half-serious. It will be from my pocket, from the money I’ve earned being a mercenary here. But she will stay on your territory.

- Why mine? – he was irritated.

- Because you mix well!

- Yeah, like, oil and water…

- Besides, you really need a wife. Want to end up like Edelgard? With no kids to inherit your ideas?

- I need no advice from you. – he yelled at her and blushed.

- Ooh, did I hit the nerve? – she smirked.

He sighed:

- Very well. But only because it’s your money.

- It’s a deal then! – she smiled openly.

- The rain doesn’t intend to stop. At this point we’ll stay here until night.

- Well, let’s head to the inn. There’s inn in this town, right?

- Of course there is, it’s a bordering town. Let’s go!

They walked through the wet streets, hearing the thunder somewhere nearby. As they walked to the inn, Violet noticed a small silhouette besides one of the stores. She walked to it; it was a child. She bended over:

- Have you lost? – she addressed the child.

The child looked at her. Her eyes with golden irises expressed anger, in her hand she gripped a piece of bread, pulling it closer to herself as Violet looked at her. She still wouldn’t respond.

- Where are your parents? I can get you to them. – Violet continued.

There was a moment of silence, but then the girl opened her mouth:

- I…have no parents… – she murmured.

- I see. Any adults who look over you?

The girl nodded negatively.

- Well, in that case, let me take care of you.

The girl pushed herself back a little.

- Hey! I mean you no harm, really. Look. – Violet took her purple hair in one hand, and the girl’s in the other. – We have the same hair colour. …well, almost. You have it a bit darker. Like storm clouds.

The child yanked her hair back, eyes narrowing.

- Ok… – Violet sighed. – How about this. Look at this scary looking man behind me. – she pointed at Felix. – He’s a Kingdom’s noble. He can help you!

The girl wouldn’t respond, she continued to frown. Violet looked at the hand with a bread:

- You’re hungry, aren’t you? Listen, we’re heading to the inn. I will feed you there. Trust me, I mean you no harm. – Violet looked into her eyes. The girl looked back. Violet extended her hand. – What is your name? Actually, I’ll introduce myself first. My name is Violet, I don’t like it when I’m called “Miss” so just drop it from the start. And you are?

-…I. – she hesitated. – I don’t have a name.

- How is that?

- My parents. I never heard them say it. I don’t know what is my name.

- Hmm. That is complicated. How about… – Violet looked around, and looked back at her hair. – Oh, I know. How about Iris. – she smiled. – Like the colour of your hair.

- Iris… – the girl’s eyes shined as she heard that someone would give her a name for the first time and call her by that.

- Oh, you like it! Now, let’s go, Iris. From now on, you’ll be with me. I’ll take care of you.

Iris took her hand and together with Felix they walked away.

Chapter Text

Chapter 45 – War’s Shadow

The border village nestled between Faerghus and Adrestia was a patchwork of resilience. Smoke curled from chimneys into a pale sky, and the scent of pine mingled with the metallic tang of distant conflict. Children’s laughter danced through the air, sharp and bright against the backdrop of a civil war that gnawed at Adrestia’s heart.

Violet sat on a weathered wooden bench, her gaze fixed on Iris. The girl knelt in the dirt, methodically stacking pebbles into a fragile tower while other children chased each other nearby. Iris’s movements were deliberate, her brow furrowed in concentration, not joy. She glanced at Violet often, as if checking she hadn’t vanished.

- Ah, Violet! It’s good to see you again!

Woman’s voice startled her. Violet turned to see her approaching, her apron dusted with flour and her smile warm but weary.

- Mary. – Violet nodded, shifting to make room on the bench. – Four months, right? Where’ve you been?

Mary settled beside her, sighing:

- Visiting my son in Garreg Mach. Meant to stay two weeks, but he fell ill. Took months to nurse him back. – she shook her head. – Poor lad. Convinced him to stay with me until… well. Until things calm down.

- Is he better?

- Much. – Mary said, though her eyes clouded. – But this war… I thought peace would hold after the treaty. Now Adrestia tears itself apart. Why won’t the Kingdom or Leicester intervene?

-...Dunno. – Violet stared at the horizon, where smoke smudged the sky.

Mary leaned closer, lowering her voice:

- They say the ‘Violet Demon’ could stop it. That she’s got Fódlan in her grip. Why won’t she act?

- Maybe she’s not real. – Violet’s fingers twitched.

- Ah, forgive me. – Mary backtracked, noticing Violet’s stiffness. – I’ve darkened the mood.

- It’s fine. – Violet’s gaze drifted back to Iris, now cautiously accepting a handful of wildflowers from a boy her age.

- Who’s the child? – Mary followed her stare. – New here?

- Iris. – Violet said, softening. – Found her in the city 30 kilometers away. Parents died when the war flared. Took her in. – a pause. – Not sure what we are yet.

- She looks like you. – Mary chuckled. – Hair like twilight.

- Hers is darker. – Violet countered, as if it actually mattered. – Like irises. Mine’s… well. Violets.

- You named her?

- She didn’t know her own name. Figured she deserved one.

- Never took you for the maternal type. – Mary’s eyes crinkled.

- I’m not. – Violet crossed her arms. – Just… keeping her safe. Until she’s older.

- Hmm. – Mary watched Iris gently place a flower atop her pebble tower. – My Lena’s about her age. Mind if they play sometime?

- Iris doesn’t talk much. – Violet hesitated. – Took her a month to stop hiding behind me.

- Lena’s patient. – Mary said, rising. – She’ll wait. Well, Violet, I have to go to my daughter and my poor son. I’ll see you around.

- Bye, Mary.

As Mary left, Violet stood and walked toward Iris. The girl immediately abandoned her tower, clutching Violet’s shirt.

- You did good today. – Violet murmured, brushing dirt from Iris’s hair.

Iris nodded, silent. But when Violet offered her hand, the girl took it, tight, trusting.

Chapter Text

Chapter 46 – Silent Understandings

The afternoon light slanted through the cottage window, painting the wooden floor in warm stripes. Violet knelt before Iris, carefully dabbing water onto the shallow cut on the girl's arm. Iris didn't flinch, just watched with those wide, golden eyes that gave away nothing.

- Alright. – Violet said, setting aside the cotton wool. – Gonna cauterize it with hydrogen peroxide now. Might sting a bit. Don't cry, okay? Ready?

Iris nodded, her small face pinched but determined. The biting liquid hissed against skin. Iris squeezed her eyes shut, her breath hitched, but no sound escaped. Not a whimper. Not a tear.

- There we go! – Violet ruffled her hair, the praise coming easier these days. – Good girl. Next time, be more careful. Understood?

Silence. Iris just stared up at her, unreadable. The quiet gnawed at Violet, but she swallowed the frustration and stood.

- Okay. – she said, brushing off her knees. – You can go out again tonight. Hey. – she tried for lightness. – Made any progress with Lena?

No response. Iris looked away, fingers twisting in her lap. Violet sighed:

- Right. Well. You'll get there.

She turned to leave, then froze. A tiny hand had fisted in her skirt.

- Hmm? – Violet glanced over her shoulder. – What's this?

Iris pointed insistently toward her room with her free hand. Once. Twice. Three times.

- You want... something from your room?

A head shake. More pointing.

- Ah! – Violet's face lit up. – Storytime? The one about me and Ike nearly breaking each other's ribs? – she grinned. – 'Crushing relationship' is right, mostly my bones.

Iris's expression didn't change, but her grip on Violet's skirt tightened.

- Don't worry, I'll tell it. – Violet said softly. – Tea first?

A hesitant head shake.

- What if... – Violet leaned in conspiratorially. – ...I also brought honey candies from the market?

No verbal reply, but a faint pink bloomed across Iris's cheeks.

- Knew that'd work. – Violet chuckled, patting her head. – Maybe I'll even throw in an extra story. If you're good.

Then, unexpected, Iris reached up. A small hand, open and waiting. Violet blinked. Then, slowly, she took it.

Iris led her to the kitchen, their linked hands swinging gently between them.

Chapter Text

Chapter 47 – The Things We Carry

The afternoon sun draped lazily over the village square as Violet sat on her usual bench, watching Iris and Lena from a distance. The two girls sat cross-legged in the grass, carefully arranging wildflowers into uneven crowns. Progress. Slow, but undeniable. Iris still didn’t speak, but she no longer flinched when Lena laughed too loud. Behind Violet, crimson eyes flickered to life in her shadow, visible only to her. Mavka’s voice slithered into her mind:

- Something’s bothering you.

-...no. It’s nothing. – Violet didn’t turn.

- It’s that brat, isn’t it? Honestly, why did you even take her in?

- I don’t know. – Violet admitted, tracing the wood grain of the bench with her thumb. – Just... felt like it.

- How many times have I heard that? – Mavka’s shadow rippled. – 'Just felt like it.' What if tomorrow you 'feel like' burning Fódlan to the ground?

-...your point? – Violet’s lips quirked.

- My point. – Mavka hissed. – Is that you’re wasting time. We could be anywhere, fighting, feasting, living. Instead, you play nursemaid to a mute child.

Violet’s elbow settled on her knee, chin dropping into her palm:

- She’s... lonely. – The words came slowly, unfamiliar on her tongue. – It’s complicated.

- You keep saying that! – Mavka’s frustration pulsed like a second heartbeat. – Give me one real reason.

A long pause. The breeze carried the scent of pollen and distant rain.

-...I want to raise her. – Violet murmured at last. – Be her friend.

Mavka’s silence was heavier than judgment. Then.

- You’re starved for touch.

- What? – Violet stiffened.

- You’re trying to fill the hollow your family left. – a cruel chuckle. – Isn’t that right?

-...I don’t know. – Violet’s fingers dug into her own arm.

- Of course not. – Mavka sneered. – But tell me. Doesn’t it frustrate you? That she won’t speak?

The truth spilled out before Violet could cage it:

- It does. – her throat tightened. – I wish she’d talk to me. Really talk. But... right now the least I can do is treat her well.

Mavka’s eyes narrowed to ember slits:

- Don’t make yourself regret this.

Then gone. A tug at her sleeve. Violet blinked down at Iris, who stared back with those unsettling golden eyes. The girl’s small hand uncurled. A butterfly, its wings trembling, lifted into the air between them.

- Oh. – Violet breathed. Iris pointed as it fluttered away. – Isn’t that beautiful? – Violet smiled, ruffling Iris’s hair. – You caught it without hurting it. Clever girl.

Iris’s face remained impassive, but she didn’t pull away.

- Done playing? – Violet asked.

A nod.

- Then let’s go home.

She stood, offering her hand. After a heartbeat, Iris took it, their fingers slotting together like a key turning in a lock.

Chapter Text

Chapter 48 – The Smile

Violet crouched low, meeting Iris at eye level. The morning light filtered through the cottage windows, painting warm stripes across the wooden floor.

- Hey, dear. – Violet said softly. – How about we go into the city today?

Iris froze. Her small hands clenched into fists, and she took a step back, shaking her head violently. Violet didn't reach out, she knew better by now. Instead, she stayed where she was, her voice steady:

- You're scared, aren't you? – a pause. – I'll be right there with you. If anything happens, I'll protect you.

Iris didn't respond. Just watched, her golden eyes wide and uncertain. Violet tilted her head:

- Tell you what. We'll go, and I'll buy you those fruit lollipops you like. Every flavor. I've got enough money to buy out the whole stall.

Iris hesitated. Looked down at her feet. Then, after a long moment, a tiny nod.Violet grinned:

- Hah, knew that'd work. We leave tomorrow.

The city streets were alive with noise, vendors shouting, children laughing, the clatter of carts on cobblestone. Iris's grip on Violet's skirt was iron-tight, her knuckles white. Violet glanced down:

- Hey. Breathe. We're just strolling. Nothing scary here.

Iris didn't relax, but she didn't bolt either. Progress. They turned into a narrow lane, stopping in front of a brightly painted toy shop. The bell jingled as Violet pushed the door open. Inside, shelves were crammed with wooden animals, cloth dolls, and tin soldiers. Iris's gaze darted everywhere, lingering on a stuffed bear with button eyes. Violet didn't miss it. She strode up to the counter, where a round-faced man was polishing a music box:

- Hello, Mister. Is the toy ready?

- You are… – the owner squinted. – Let me see. – he flipped through a ledger. – Name?

- Violet.

- Ah, yes! – he disappeared into the back room.

Iris looked up at Violet, questioning. Violet just smiled, and for a second, something warm flickered in Iris's chest. The owner returned, holding a plushie:

- Here you are! Took some doing, but I think you'll be pleased.

Violet took it, turning it over in her hands. The doll had soft purple hair, golden eyes, and a stitched smile:

- Hmm. Not bad. – she tossed it to Iris. – What do you think?

Iris caught it and froze. It looked like her. Same dark violet hair. Same golden eyes. But... smiling. Happy. Something she hadn't been in a long time. Violet didn't need words. The way Iris clutched the doll, fingers pressing into the fabric like she was afraid it would vanish, was answer enough.

- A thousand gold, right? – Violet dropped the bag of coins onto the counter.

- For bringing such a lovely little lady? – the owner waved a hand. – Eight-fifty.

- You flatter her. – Violet laughed. – But thanks. – she turned to Iris, who was still staring at the doll. – Ready to go?

Iris nodded, clutching her new plushie to her chest. And for the first time since they'd entered the city, her grip on Violet's skirt loosened, just a little.

Chapter Text

Chapter 49 – Mother. A Civil War in Adrestia

Three months have passed since Violet took Iris into her care. Iris's skin became healthier over time, it got more colour. Her skin no longer stretched thin over fragile bones. Her golden eyes started to show more life in them. Her hair stopped being messy due to the consistent care that Violet gave to it. Her hair grew too much, covering her eyes a little bit.

- Good morning, Iris! – Violet said, putting an apple on the table before her.

Iris nodded and took the apple. She still struggled to talk to her. She wasn't really afraid of Violet, but she often didn't really know what to say, even as simple things as "good morning". It was evident she didn't know how to express herself in words, only using gestures to give Violet hints of what she wanted to say. She could talk clearly. That's how they met, after all. Violet could only respond with a smile to her gestures. She knew Iris would need time to recover, and didn't expect it to be soon. However, that stressed her. She was just a child, so Violet didn't fully understand what to do to fix her inner problems. Iris wouldn't even call her by name, she wouldn't call her by anything at all. When Iris wanted her attention, she just hinted with gestures, and when she got what she wanted, Iris would only then talk. ...if at all, usually sticking to just gestures. Violet just continued to care for her, hoping it would help her eventually. Though she was happy Iris looked healthier than when she met her, the lack of her communicational improvements disappointed her.

- Iris, how about you go outside for a bit? – Violet asked her. – Play with the neighbours' kids. You seem to like them.

Iris grabbed her shirt, tugging gently.

- You want me to go with you? – Violet asked. Iris nodded. – I'm so sorry, dear. – she crouched, meeting her eyes . – I need to cook a meal for us. – she brushed Iris's bangs aside, tucking them behind her ear. – I promise I'll go with you in the evening, OK?

Disappointed but Iris still nodded. She slipped out of the door as Violet started to cook.

An hour later, Iris came back.

- Oh? Back already? – Violet looked at her. – What is that? – she saw a black cat in Iris's hands. Iris stretched out her arms, showing it closer. Its fur was matted, right ear nicked from the past fights, but he still purred as if he knew Iris forever. – You want to take care of it? – Iris nodded. – Fine! – Violet smiled. – Your friend must be needing some home, right? I think we can find some space for him.

Iris nodded, her lips curled into a smile — wide, gentle, angelic one. It stuttered Violet's heart. She let the cat walk and he slipped to the kitchen. Violet looked at it, then turned back to Iris and squatted down:

- Listen, Iris. I... I know this must be hard to adapt to our new life style. But I want the best for you! – she placed her hand on her head. – I need you to try and talk to me. You're not calling me by name. – she brushed Iris's cheek gently. – That worries me when you can't even say my name. – she said it softly. – I need to know how you feel. But when you don't speak to me, I feel like I'm doing something wrong. Am I doing something wrong? – Iris nodded negatively. – Do you feel uncomfortable? – she nodded negatively. – Then why do you not call me? – Iris hesitated and turned her head away. – I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you. – she stood up. – The dinner is ready. Wash your hands and come to the kitchen. – she turned away, heading to the kitchen.

- M... Ma— – Iris tried to say something.

- Hmm? What is it, dear? – Violet turned back and crouched. – You need something?

Iris tried to use gestures again, but dropped her hands down and opened her mouth:

- Ma—mama! – she almost whispered it.

- Dear, what is it? I don't understand you. – Violet truly wanted to understand her, but she couldn't get what she meant.

- I—I... Mother... I want to...call you mama instead. – she hardly could say that as she was nervous in front of Violet for the first time in these three months. – Do you...do you want it?

There was a moment of silence before Violet could realize what she meant. Tears appeared in her eyes as she covered her mouth with her palm:

- I've tried so hard to become friends with you, but I never realised you wanted the other thing. – she sobbed, tears started coming down her face.

- Don't cry... – Iris was wiping Violet's tear as she started to cry herself.

- Oh, silly. – Violet hugged her head and pulled closer to herself. – It is I who should calm you, not the other way around! – she stroked her hair gently. – I... I honestly wanted the same, Iris. But I didn't know if I was worth it. I understand now. Thank you. Daughter.

That night, the cat, now named Nero (Deadweight), curled at the foot of Iris’s bed. Violet lingered in the doorway, watching Iris’s chest rise and fall in sleep. For the first time in months, the house didn’t feel so quiet.

Next day, Violet gently woke Iris up, now both in a new role in their relationship. As always, she prepared Iris a fruit for a breakfast. Iris took it slowly, smiling all the time during breakfast:

- Eat, eat, dear. – Violet stroked her hair. – You just need to get a little bit healthier, then we can eat some more serious meals for breakfast.

- Yes, mama! – she smiled.

Suddenly someone knocked on their door. Iris looked at Violet:

- Mama..? – she seemed nervous.

- Don’t worry. I go check.

She walked towards the door and opened it. Felix was standing in front of their door in his usual uniform. Bernadetta stood behind him looking shyly at Violet. She however was wearing casual, common clothes, even though Bernadetta was a noble herself.

- Felix? Oh! And Bernie too? What brings you both here? – Violet smiled.

- I brought you some news. …do you mind? – Felix asked Violet politely to enter.

- Oh, of course not! You are welcome. – she opened the door wholly and welcomed the guests.

Seeing them, Iris quickly jumped off the chair and ran to Violet. She hid herself behind her, carefully looking out behind her thigh.

-…who is this kid? I thought you didn’t have any children. – Felix asked looking at the girl.

- Don’t you remember? It is Iris, a girl from three months ago. – Violet said.

- Hmm, no, I do remember. I just can’t recognize her. Last time I saw her, she was all skin and bones. – he squinted. – Is that really her?

- It is her! She just started to eat properly, that’s all. – she smiled at Iris, patting her head.

- Hmm, and you get along too. – Felix smiled seeing them.

- Oh, do I see a smile from the edgelord himself? – Violet grinned.

- M..Mama. – she tugged Violet’s shirt.

- What is it? – she crouched. Iris whispered something to her. – Don’t worry, dear. These are good people! – she whispered to her too. – This is Felix. Remember him? He was with me when we met you.

- Did I mishear that? – Felix asked. – Did she just call you ‘mama’? What in the Sothis’s name have happened over these 3 months?

- It’s kind of a long story. – she smiled. – Why don’t the two of you sit at the table? I will prepare some tea for you.

The 4 of them sat together at the table. Iris’s chair was close to Violet’s with Iris leaning on Violet all the time, grabbing her by her hand. Nero was resting on her legs. After Violet told her story of their life together with Iris, Felix started:

- I see. I’m glad she’s doing better now. But still. – he grinned. – To think that the fearsome and the deadliest warrior of our time that has an entire continent as her hostage would end up such a softy for kids.

- You can stop with your metaphors. – Violet was a bit irritated by his words. – You know I’m trying to help.

- I know, I’m just joking, Violet. – he sipped his tea.

- Still, Violet, I didn’t expect you to take care of an abandoned child. – Bernadetta smiled.

- You two make it sound like I’m incapable of empathy! – Violet retorted.

- No! Don’t get me wrong. – she waved her hands. – It’s just so rare that people take abandoned children without a goal of making them servants. You’re just… like a normal family, I suppose. I envy you a little. – she looked at her cup while turning a bit red.

- I appreciate your kind words, Bernie. – Violet smiled to her. – So, you both didn’t come to just see me, right?

- Of course not. It would be ridiculous for me to come here just to drink some tea with you. – Felix said. – As I said before, I’ve got some news for you. Though I suppose the girl shouldn’t be involved in the adult talks.

- No, I agree. Bernadetta, can I ask you to play with Iris while we talk? – Violet asked.

- M—me?! But am I really qualified to do so? – she answered nervously as always.

- Of course you are! It doesn’t involve Bernadetta in our talks, right?

- No, it doesn’t. – Felix answered.

-…so you’re free to go.

- If you ask to... – she stood up, walking to Iris. – Let’s go, Iris. I’ll play with you.

Iris looked away and buried her head in Violet’s chest:

- Dear, don’t worry. – Violet placed her hand on her head. Iris pulled her eyes up. – Aunt Bernadetta is a kind soul. You’ll need not worry about anything. Trust me.

Iris nodded. Carefully, but she took Bernadetta’s hand and they walked outside. As they left, Felix started:

- You seem to be a pretty good mother.

- Stop with the flattery. – she grinned. – So, what is it?

- Well, there are a lot of news from different areas of the continent. I’ll start with a good one. Claude proved not only that he’s trustworthy, but also that he’s a good leader. The relationship between the Kingdom and the Alliance. …although now it’s called Federation. They’re improving at the rapid speed. Cooperation in military and trade is going well. We’re practically allies at this point. He’s keeping his part of the deal with you, and didn’t kind in any aggressive way towards Adrestia’s civil war. They never did anything else besides tightening defenses on Myridin. More over through diplomacy, and I guess his roots, he could include Almyra as the part of his federation. Impressive, of course, and we don’t worry about that, because you’re here. But who knows what Claude might think when you’ll leave.

- I’m not going to leave anywhere, until I decided my role here is done.

- That is why we don’t worry. Leicester’s nobles seem to be quite obedient to Claude too. Before the war, most nobles were quite disloyal to Claude, but now the tables have turned. So, to sum it up, Leicester with Claude as its leader is doing better than any other country on the continent. That’s it for Leicester.

- I’m impressed by Claude’s work. Although, his sneaky nature will bug me until his death. …although, even then I’m sure he will have something thought before his death. Still, if he pulls something funny, he’s as good as a goner.

- Hmph. – he smirked. – That’s the Violet I know.

- What other news you brought?

- We’ll go in order, from good to bad, I guess. Next is the Church. They’ve been almost silent these few months. They changed the head of it. Seteth now is the head of Church, and by that extent, an Academy. When I went there and asked the reason for a change. He said it was a mutual decision of both him and Rhea. He said that it’s better that way for controlling the Church and the Academy in the current time. I cannot agree with him more. With how you threatened them only a fool would do thing the old way. Aside from that, two weeks they were attacked by the imperial rebels. The attack was repelled, and Church soldiers didn’t move any further into the adrestian territory. I guess they understand what that would result to. In other news about the Church, they plan to enroll students again in their Academy. The Kingdom is not against it, but Leicester is concerned at what the students will read there. What about you?

- I don’t really care, to be honest. It’s obvious Claude wants his view on history to be used as a propaganda instead of Church’s. But I’m not here to judge the policies of your countries, aside from those that involve military action.

- Makes sense. Next up is us. And the situation is getting worse in some areas. While I mention that our cooperation with the Federation goes well, Dimitri has fallen ill, seriously. I don’t think he’ll survive the next 10 years and the clerics are of the same opinion. Stupid king thought that he could neglect his health for the sake of the people. And now he won’t even see his son reach adulthood. At least he has a successor.

- That’s concerning. Out of four sides, Dimitri was the only person pessimistic enough to only defend. Will his son be able to rule the Kingdom if Dimitri dies before he’ll be of an age?

- Stupid king made it so that the king cannot rule the country if he didn’t turn adult. King’s duties fall on the second person in the Kingdom, which is the head of House Fraldarius, which is me. Quite ironic and irritating that his own son will see his father’s law in action first. In the other regions it’s quite calm. Calmer than in the pre-war period. There were some mysterious assassinations of the nobles of the rebellious houses in the past year. Either that or they became more loyal to the crown. …is it your doing?

- I have absolutely no clue what you’re talking about!

- It’s funny you would say to not interfere with the Adrestia’s civil war, but you freely kill the nobles of ours! Even though that’s in the interests of mine. Still, what’s your logic in all that?

- Faerghus has become my second home. Let me show the king my appreciation! – Violet grinned.

Felix sighed.

- The last report should be about Empire, right? – Violet asked.

- Yes. And the things go from bad to worse here. We know it has only been 3 and a half months. However we’re concerned it will be over soon.

- Wouldn’t that be good? – she interrupted.

- Let me finish. At the beginning we thought that the nobles with Aegir as their leader will prevail, due to the power and geography they had. Unfortunately, the tables have turned. The rebels, which we just call radicals now because of their methods, win now. The other day Ferdinand himself came to Fhirdiad, asking the king for help. We refused for obvious reasons. – a short pause. – Listen, Violet… This is the reason I came to you today. Not on the behalf of the king, but on my behalf, I ask you to let us interfere.

- Enough! Like I told you before, I won’t permit it. If the Empire will act aggressive, I will destroy them on my own. If you try to interfere in the other countries’ business, I will destroy you. I thought we came to an agreement.

- We did. However, this situation REQUIRES interference. If the radicals will come to power, the Adrestia is done as a potential guarantee to peace.

- And like I told you, if anything happens, I will just dispose of an obstacle.

- How do I explain this in simple terms. One of the head of the radicals is the Western Church, a rat that disguises itself as a religious organization. They survived several centuries because they could deceive other people. You can be not immune to that. Furthermore, if we help Ferdinand hold power, that will get us closer to a long-standing peace that you want to establish. It’s only beneficial for both all parties involved.

She did a long sigh. Then she said:

- Fine. But first, I need to meet with Dimitri to discuss it. If you have a messenger with you, send him to Ferdinand, tell him to go to Firhdiad as soon as possible. Claude should participate in the talks too. If we don’t come to an agreement, I will deal with the rebels myself. But if your goal is to strengthen peace, then we can at least try to talk about it. However, that way I’m betraying my principles and promise given to you. If I won’t see the results I want to see, then I will just stick to the promise next time with no chances to anyone. Territory is out of the question, no one gains a meter of the Adrestia’s territory. Unfair deals with Ferdinand’s side will not be allowed; you come, you help, you go home, nothing more. I will oversee every action of the Kingdom and the Federation, if the plan comes into action.

- It’s a deal then. After our conversation, I’ll send a messenger to Adrestia. But huh. – he exhaled and smiled. – Your attitude right now reminded me of the day you stopped the war. I thought we were all goners that day. – he shrugged. – …with that, our news is almost over. There’s one more left.

- What is it? – she was confused.

- Call your kid and Bernadetta. – he crossed his hands waiting.

Violet did just that. In a few moments, Bernadetta and Iris came back home. Iris ran to her, showing some kind of plushie:

- Mom, mom, look! – she stretched her arms showing the toy closer. – Aunt Bernadetta gifted me this hedgehog toy! I love it so much! Can… can I keep it, mama?

- Of course you can, if it’s Bernadetta who gifted it! – Violet smiled, patting her head. – Did you come up with the name?

- No. Not yet.

- How about. – she grinned. – A Berniehog!

- H—Hey, what’s this kind of a name? – Bernadetta turned red. – I’m no hog!

- Haha, I’m just joking. – Violet laughed.

- I’m thinking of… Bernie! – Iris smiled looking at Bernadetta.

- Y—yeah, that’s a good name. – Bernadetta was happy to hear Iris choose that name.

- Bernadetta, sit down, please. You too, Violet. – Felix addressed the women.

Both of them sat down to their places. Violet sat Iris on her lap with her new hedgehog toy.

-…we’re getting married. – Felix flatly.

- Is that it? – Violet was confused.

- Is there a need to explain it in more details? – Felix seemed irritated as always. Bernadetta gripped his hand and looked at him. Her smile cooled him down. He sighed. – I should thank you, Violet. If not for your suggestion to give Bernadetta a place to stay here, we probably wouldn’t get together. – he smiled at Bernadetta.

- Hehe, I knew this would be like this.

- You did?

- Well, I didn’t know for sure, but I thought you felt at least something for each other. Besides, she needed help.

- I see. In any case, we both in your debt.

- And we invite you to our wedding. – Bernadetta said.

- Well, when the king will get better. – Felix added. – Without Dimitri, that wouldn’t really be marriage.

- Aye! We will come to the wedding! – Violet said.

- We—? Ah, right, you’ve got little Iris with you now. Well. – he stood up, Bernadetta followed him. – In that case, I will see you tomorrow. We will go to the capital and there you can talk to Dimitri. I’m counting on you.

Chapter Text

Chapter 50 – Interference

The wagon rattled along the worn path to the capital, the rhythmic clatter of hooves and wheels filling the quiet countryside air. Inside, Violet sat with Iris curled against her side, the girl’s small fingers idly stroking Nero’s fur as the cat purred contentedly in her lap. Violet’s hand gently combed through Iris’s dark violet hair, her touch soothing.

Felix, sitting across from them with Bernadetta at his side, watched the scene with a mix of amusement and disbelief.

- Ridiculous. – he muttered, shaking his head. – Five years ago, you were slaughtering Adrestian troops without a second thought. Now you’re sitting here cooing over a child you picked up off the street.

Iris’s golden eyes flicked up at Violet, uncertainty flickering in them:

- Mama… is that true?

Violet’s fingers stilled for a moment before resuming their gentle strokes:

- No, dear. Uncle Felix lies. You needn’t concern yourself with his words.

Felix exhaled sharply through his nose, unimpressed:

- By the way. – he said, his gaze narrowing as he studied Violet’s face. – I just noticed. You haven’t aged a day in the seven years you’ve been here. What’s that about?

Violet smirked, tilting her head playfully:

- I’m just that perfect. What can I say?

Felix’s eyes flicked to Iris, then back to Violet, a silent understanding passing between them. Violet gave the barest nod. Felix huffed but didn’t press further:

- Well, back to the job. Are you sure you will break the promise you made five years ago? You said you wouldn’t interfere unless someone else did first.

- Let’s meet with Dimitri first. I need to hear what he thinks. If it’s necessary… then yes, I’ll help.

- And here I thought your promises were as sharp as your knives. You disappoint me.

- Let’s just say every rule sometimes finds an exception. – Violet chuckled.

Felix glanced at Iris, who was now watching their exchange with quiet curiosity:

- You’re really bringing the kid with you?

- Of course! – Violet said, ruffling Iris’s hair. – It’s not like I can leave her in your care.

Bernadetta, who had been nervously fidgeting with her sleeves, suddenly spoke up:

- I-I can take care of Iris! If… if she’s not against it, of course.

Iris looked up at Violet, her small voice barely above a whisper:

- Mama… I want to play with Aunt Bernadetta.

- Would be bad if Violet cuts your hand off before our marriage if you screw this up somewhere. – Felix smirked.

- Felix! – Bernadetta gasped, her face flushing.

- I’m joking. – he said, though his smirk didn’t fade.

- Benadetta, huh? – Violet grinned. – That wouldn’t be a bad option. Besides, Iris wants it, right, baby?

Iris nodded eagerly. Violet patted her head:

- Then it’s settled. If we agree to interfere, I’ll leave her in Bernie’s hands.

- You say that like you’ve already decided to cross the border. – Felix crossed his arms.

- That would be one option. – Violet’s smile turned knowing. – But like I said, I want to hear Dimitri first.

- Fine.

The heavy metal doors groaned as they swung open, revealing the dimly lit war room. King Dimitri sat at the head of the long table, his once-powerful frame now gaunt, one of his eyes sunken and shadowed by illness, it was covered by an eye patch. His wife, Marianne, sat beside him, her gentle presence a quiet contrast to the king’s fading strength. The air smelled of medicinal herbs and candle wax, the scent of a man fighting time itself.

Violet stepped inside, her grip firm around Iris’s small hand. The girl clung to her mother’s jacket, half-hidden behind the fabric, her golden eyes peeking out at the unfamiliar surroundings. Dimitri looked up, a weary but genuine smile touching his lips:

- Violet.

- No need to stand up, Dimitri. – Violet said, her voice softer than usual. – Wow. You look awful.

- I suppose the illness has gotten the better of me. – a dry chuckle escaped the king. – My apologies for my appearance. – his single eye studied her. – You, however, haven’t changed one bit.

Violet smirked:

- What can I say? I'm that—

-…perfect. – Felix, stepping in behind her, finished flatly.

- True that! – Violet grinned.

Dimitri’s gaze drifted downward to the small figure half-hidden behind Violet’s jacket:

- And who might this be?

- My daughter! – Violet beamed, nudging Iris forward slightly.

- Your… daughter? – Dimitri blinked. – I wasn’t aware you were married.

- Still not! – Violet said cheerfully. – She’s a girl I found on one of our walks with Felix. From a village on the southern border. Adrestians killed her family when the war began. – her tone darkened for just a moment. – I was in the region back then, but I never made it to her village. The knights did. Although it seems for her it was too late…

- I’m sorry… – Dimitri’s expression softened with sorrow. – What is her name?

- Iris. – Violet said, gently urging her forward. – Come on, Iris. Say hello to the king.

But Iris didn’t let go, her fingers tightening in the fabric of Violet’s jacket.

- Hah! – Dimitri chuckled warmly. – It’s quite all right. My own son isn’t much older than her, and he’s just as shy around strangers.

- Felix gave me reports, but he never mentioned you had a son. – Violet blinked.

- I’m not hiding it. Felix seemed to have neglected that. – Dimitri exhaled, shifting the subject back. – But we digress. You came for a reason.

- Where’s Claude? – Violet nodded. – I asked Felix to send a messenger. He should be here.

- He’ll arrive soon. – Dimitri gestured to an empty chair. – Would you like to wait for him?

- Of course. – Violet said, pulling out a chair for herself and lifting Iris onto her lap. – That’s why I’m here, to talk to both of you.

The doors swung open with a theatrical flourish as Claude strolled in, his signature smirk in place. Hilda followed, her pink hair bright against the somber stone walls. The scent of rain and leather clung to them - they'd clearly ridden hard to arrive so quickly.

- Ah, if it isn't King Dimitri and our very own Fódlan's Guardian Violet. – Claude announced, his eyes immediately catching on the small figure clinging to Violet's jacket. – Looking worse every time I see you, your Majesty.

- Save the pleasantries, Claude. – Dimitri waved off the concern with a gaunt hand. – We're glad you came.

Violet shifted Iris slightly behind her as the girl pressed closer:

- Five years, Claude? You're looking... exactly the same.

Claude's grin widened as he took his seat:

- The Federation's thriving thanks to your little intervention. Who knew we could reform the Church without beheading Rhea? – his gaze dropped to Iris, who peeked out with one golden eye. – And who's this? A mini-Violet?

- Mommy, are you really that important? – Iris tugged at Violet's sleeve.

The room's tension broke as Claude burst out laughing:

- Oh, I like this kid!

- She's mine now. – Violet ruffled Iris's hair. – Orphan from the border villages. – her tone made it clear the subject wasn't open for discussion.

- Adrestia. – Claude leaned forward, all business now.

- Your thoughts first. – Violet crossed her arms.

The silence stretched until Dimitri cleared his throat:

- Ferdinand's faction represents stability. They recognize Brigid's independence - that alone shows their willingness to change. The rebels... – he exchanged a glance with Felix. – They'd drag us back to war, we believe.

- You're certain the Agarthans aren't involved? – Violet's eyes narrowed.

- You wiped them out. – Felix cut in. – This is just greedy nobles being greedy.

- Ferdinand's our best shot at lasting peace. – Claude nodded. – Isn't that what you want, Violet?

- Well? – Felix drummed his fingers on the table. – What's your play?

Violet exhaled slowly, her hand unconsciously settling on Iris's head:

- Fine. We intervene. – the words tasted bitter. – Troops from Arianrhod and Myrddin. Ferdinand gets support - nothing more. – her grip tightened slightly. – No territory grabs. No political strings. Anyone tries... – she glanced down at Iris and softened her tone. – There will be consequences.

- Still terrifying, but motherhood's sanded down your edges. – Claude whistled.

- We agree to your terms. – Dimitri smiled weakly. – Thank you, Violet.

Violet stood abruptly, guiding Iris toward the door:

- We'll go back to the wagon.

- What for? – Dimitri raised an eyebrow.

- For the rest of course.

- Haha. Violet you might be dangerous, scary even, but you're my friend. Just ask. my people will give you a room for two.

- Mommy, I want to sleep with you. – Iris’s grip tightened on Violet’s jacket

- For one is fine. Thanks, Dimitri.

Chapter 50x – Unresolved Grief

The castle corridors were quiet at this hour, lit only by the flickering glow of wall sconces. Violet stepped out of her chamber, the door clicking softly behind her. Iris was asleep inside, curled under thick blankets with Nero nestled against her.

Violet exhaled, running a hand through her hair, then froze. Bernadetta stood further down the hall, clutching a book to her chest like a shield. She jumped when Violet noticed her.

- Oh! V-Violet! – she squeaked. – I was just, um, getting something to read!

- Bernadetta. – Violet smiled faintly. – I was just wanting to see you.

- M-Me? – Bernadetta blinked.

For a moment, Violet hesitated. The words sat heavy on her tongue. Then.

-...I need to confess something to you.

-…what is it?

Violet’s voice dropped, barely above a whisper:

- Six years ago. Your father. Do you remember?

-...yes. I do. – Bernadetta went very still.

Violet’s fingers curled into fists at her sides:

- I’m sorry, Bernadetta. It was me who killed him. – silence. – When Rhea gave me the mission to assassinate the Bishop of the Southern Church...I didn’t know it was him. Not until after. – her throat tightened. – I’m sorry.

Bernadetta didn’t speak. Then. A hand settled on Violet’s shoulder. Violet looked up, startled. Bernadetta’s expression was unreadable:

-...it’s fine, Violet.

- Bernadetta?

- I...I had my suspicions it was you. – Bernadetta’s voice was quiet but steady. – Edelgard once hinted at it. But there was no proof. The official report said...heart failure. – a bitter smile. – I knew better.

- You’re not...angry? – Violet’s breath caught. – But I killed him…just like my family was killed. That would make me no different from them.

Bernadetta’s hand pressed against Violet’s chest:

- You’re different. You have a heart. – she looked away. – My father...wasn’t a good man. I knew someday he’d meet his end. I don’t blame you.

- Oh, Bernadetta... – Violet’s vision blurred.

She pulled the younger woman into a fierce hug, fingers threading through Bernadetta’s hair the same way she soothed Iris. Bernadetta stiffened, then relaxed, returning the embrace.

After a moment, Bernadetta gently pushed her away:

-...about Iris. – she fidgeted with her sleeve. – Are you sure you want to leave her with me?

- She likes you. – Violet wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. – Of course I do.

Bernadetta’s face lit up:

- D-Do you mind if I teach her some sewing? And I have storybooks, ones I wrote myself! If...if that’s okay?

- Iris would love that. – Violet laughed, the sound thick but genuine.

Somewhere down the hall, a door creaked open, Felix’s annoyed voice calling for Bernadetta. Violet stepped back, squeezing Bernadetta’s hand once:

- Go on. I’ll see you both in the morning.

As Bernadetta hurried off, Violet leaned against the cold stone wall, exhaling slowly. The weight she’d carried for years felt...lighter. From behind the door, Nero’s muffled purr and Iris’s sleepy murmur reminded her.She wasn’t that person anymore.

Chapter Text

Chapter 51 – Adrestian Civil War

The air smelled of damp earth and steel as the combined forces of the Kingdom of Faerghus and the Leicester Federation assembled in the rolling fields of Bergliez territory. Ferdinand von Aegir stood at the forefront, his once-polished armor now bearing the marks of prolonged conflict. His tired eyes brightened slightly as the allied commanders approached.

- Ah, you’ve finally arrived. – Ferdinand said, offering a weary but genuine smile. – Though when I heard that Violet would be joining, I was quite surprised. Peaceful life too boring for you?

- Just keeping these two on a leash. – she jerked a thumb at Dimitri and Claude. – No offense.

- None taken. – Claude said dryly.

- Before you ask. – Violet continued. – This is unconditional support. We help you crush the rebels, then we leave. These two already know my terms.

Dimitri nodded, his gaunt face shadowed beneath his hood:

- As we speak, Kingdom troops are already advancing into Arundel from Arianrhod.

- And the Federation’s forces are moving from the Myrddin Bridge direction. – Claude folded his arms behind his head.

Ferdinand exhaled, relief softening his expression:

- Your support is much appreciated. Once this war is over, I swear to repay this debt.

- No need. – Dimitri shook his head. – Faerghus would have volunteered regardless of payment. – his remaining eye flickered with something unreadable. – Though our history with Adrestia is... complicated, we’ve seen the changes you’ve made. We hope they endure.

- Actually, I wouldn’t mind a little reward. – Claude grinned.

Violet coughed pointedly. Claude threw up his hands:

- Kidding! I’m kidding. – he chuckled. – Still, this is the first time since Shambhala that we’re fighting together. Feels nostalgic.

- Agreed. – Ferdinand clasped his hands together. – It’s an honor to stand with you all once more.

- Alright, back to business. – Violet clapped once, cutting through the sentimentality. – What’s the situation?

- In the east, we’ve reclaimed Bergliez, Varley, and Aegir territories. But the west... – his jaw tightened. – Only Nuvelle and the Brionac Plateau remain under our control. The rest have fallen to the rebels.

Violet studied the map, then tapped a finger on Fort Merceus:

- Then we push south from here.

- Through Merceus, then straight to Enbarr? – Claude whistled. – Bold.

- Too dangerous. – Ferdinand grimaced. – We lost Merceus two months ago. The casualties were... severe on both sides.

- You’re talking like I’m not standing right here. – Violet scoffed. – Crushing a fort? Please. I could do it blindfolded. – she stretched her arms behind her head. – I’ll move ahead. Clear the path.

Ferdinand hesitated, then nodded:

- If you can secure Merceus, we can spread southeast, take Rusalka and Boramas. If we have Enbarr...

- Once we have Enbarr. – Violet corrected. – The rebels’ morale shatters. The rest will fold.

- You sure you’re fit for battle? – Claude glanced at Dimitri. – No offense, but you look like a strong breeze could knock you over.

- My arm is steady enough. – Dimitri’s grip tightened around his spear. – Do not concern yourself, Claude.

- If there are no more questions, I’m moving out. I’ll give Merceus a personal greeting. –  she smirked. – See you when it’s done.

Without another word, she turned on her heel, her jacket billowing behind her as she strode toward the horizon, where the dark silhouette of Fort Merceus loomed, waiting.

The moment Violet’s boots struck the cracked stone of Fort Merceus’ courtyard, the air itself seemed to shudder.

- Ashera, I love these entrances. – she mused, dust swirling around her like a halo.

The first swordsman hesitated, then lunged. Violet didn’t even draw her blade. Her hand snapped out, seizing his face mid-charge. With a casual flick of her wrist, she slammed him headfirst into the ground, the stone fracturing beneath the impact. His body went limp.

- Alright, guys. – she called, stepping over him. – Ferdinand’ll be pissed if I turn this place into a slaughterhouse. So I’ll try to keep it clean. – a pause. – But don’t expect to survive.

Then she moved. Like a gale given flesh, she tore through the fortress. Her sword, Shooting Star, flashed only when necessary, a single, precise cut across a throat here, a stab through a lung there. No wasted motion. No theatrics. Just death, delivered with chilling efficiency.

Soldiers fell before they could scream. Archers toppled from the ramparts, arrows still nocked. A knight in full plate swung a war axe, Violet sidestepped, her blade slipping between his helm and gorget. He crumpled like a puppet with cut strings.

By the time she reached the inner keep, the courtyard was littered with bodies, none dismembered, none mangled, just dead. Then, with a flick of her wrist, Shooting Star vanished into blue embers.

- Alright. – she cracked her knuckles. – Now for the fun part.

The first fool charged. Violet ducked under his swing, planted a boot in his gut, and kicked him straight up, his spine shattered against the wall before he hit the ground. The next came in a pair. She snapped the first’s knee with a side kick, then drove her elbow into the second’s spine. A wet crunch, and he folded like wet parchment. A burly axeman roared, swinging wildly. Violet grabbed him by the collar, spun once, and hurled him into his own squad. Bones broke on impact.

- Strike! – she taunted, advancing.

Fists caved in ribs. A roundhouse crushed a trachea. She caught a spear mid-thrust, yanked the wielder forward, and headbutted him, his nose exploded in a burst of crimson.

This wasn’t battle. This was humiliation. By the time the last man collapsed, wheezing through shattered lungs, Violet stood alone in the silent fortress. She wiped a speck of blood from her cheek.

- Huh. That was almost too easy.

Hours later

The sun hung low over the broken battlements of Fort Merceus when Ferdinand and his forces arrived. The air smelled of iron and dust, the courtyard eerily silent save for the distant caw of crows. Caspar whistled low as they stepped over the fallen:

- Woah. They weren’t lying about the Violet Demon.

Ferdinand surveyed the scene, bodies strewn with clinical precision, no gratuitous slaughter, just efficient lethality:

- At least this time it’s not that messy. – he remarked, glancing at Violet, who leaned against the inner gate, arms crossed. – Restraining yourself?

- Just making cleanup easier for you. – Violet shrugged. – Where’s Claude and Dimitri?

- Pushing south to Rusalka and Boramas. – Ferdinand said. – We’ll regroup at Enbarr. Hresvelg territory is next. – he hesitated. – Violet… we can handle the capital ourselves.

- My orders? – Violet tilted her head.

- Orders? – Ferdinand blinked. – I don’t think I’m in a position to give you orders.

- C’mon. – Violet smirked. – You’re the boss here.

- Very well. – Ferdinand exhaled, rubbing his temple. – I’ve been thinking… it should be us who liberates Enbarr. But the western front still needs securing. Can I ask you to take the western side of Adrestia?

- You can.

Silence.

- Well…? – Ferdinand frowned.

- Well, ask me. – Violet grinned.

Caspar snorted. Ferdinand sighed:

- I ask you to handle the western territories.

- Roger that. Already on my way. – in a flicker of blue, she was gone.

- To think she took this fortress alone. In what, an hour? – Caspar shook his head.

- Minutes, probably. – Ferdinand muttered. – She’s… terrifying. And I’m very glad she’s on our side.

- Yeah. – Caspar agreed, cracking his knuckles. – Wouldn’t wanna be the poor bastards who have to fight her.

Ferdinand straightened, nodding toward the southern road:

- Shall we? Hresvelg awaits. Then the capital.

- With the Kingdom and Federation at our backs, we’ve got no right to lose this. – Caspar grinned, fiery as ever.

- Then let’s make sure we don’t. – Ferdinand allowed himself a small smile.

Chapter Text

Chapter 52 – Birth of a New World Order

Two days. That was all it took. The capital’s gates had shattered under the combined might of Ferdinand’s loyalists, Dimitri’s knights, and Claude’s tactical brilliance. The rebel forces, already demoralized by Violet’s annihilation of their western strongholds, collapsed like a house of cards. The streets of Enbarr ran not with blood, but with surrender, white banners raised, weapons thrown down. By the time the sun set on the second day, the Adrestian Civil War was over.

In the grand hall of the Imperial Palace, once Edelgard’s seat of power, Ferdinand von Aegir stood before the gathered nobles, soldiers, and commoners. The air hummed with exhaustion, relief, and something new: hope.

- Today. – Ferdinand declared, his voice ringing clear. – Adrestia is no longer an empire. It is a Republic, a nation not ruled by bloodline, but by the will of its people!

The crowd erupted. Cheers, sobs, disbelieving laughter, it was the sound of a broken country daring to believe it could heal. Claude, leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed, smirked at Dimitri:

- Well, Your Majesty? Think Faerghus is ready for democracy?

- One revolution at a time, Claude. – Dimitri chuckled weakly, his pallor still ghostly from illness.

The heavy oak doors of the war room stood open, letting in the distant sounds of celebration from the streets below. Ferdinand paced near the grand strategy table, his brow furrowed as he glanced toward the empty seat where Violet should have been.

- Where’s Violet? – he asked, turning to Dimitri.

The king of Faerghus leaned against the table, his gaunt frame still bearing the weight of illness:

- She said she’d let us handle the rest from here.

Ferdinand sighed, running a hand through his hair:

- But I wanted to thank her personally. She ensured our losses were minimal, far less than they could have been.

- If you wish to thank her, she lives in Faerghus now. – Dimitri offered a faint smile. – I doubt she’d refuse a visit.

- True, but... – Ferdinand hesitated. – Now that she has a child, I imagine she’d prefer not to be disturbed. – he shook his head, almost amused. – Though I must confess, I never expected her of all people to take in an orphan.

- And here we all were, thinking we were the only ones scared of her. Funny how things turn out, huh? – Claude, lounging in his chair with his usual irreverence, grinned.

A brief silence settled over the room. Then Dimitri chuckled softly:

- It’s still the same Violet.

- Yeah. – Claude nodded. – She gave us a chance. We should take it.

Ferdinand straightened, clasping his hands behind his back:

- And that’s exactly why I called you both here today. – his voice carried the weight of history being made. – I hereby announce the restoration of relations between the Adrestian Republic and the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus— – he extended his hand to Dimitri, who clasped it firmly. – —and between the Adrestian Republic and the Leicester Federation. – he repeated the gesture with Claude.

- Hey, no debts, remember? – Claude smirked. – Let’s just focus on cooperation.

- Faerghus would prefer to begin this new era without obligations. – Dimitri nodded. – Trade, however… – a rare, almost hopeful glint entered his eye. – That would benefit us all.

- Then let it be so. – Ferdinand smiled. He stepped back, his voice resolute. – As the First Consul of the Adrestian Republic, I pledge to work alongside the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Leicester Federation, not as former enemies, but as allies.

- Faerghus will provide any assistance you require. – Dimitri inclined his head. – You have our support.

- And Leicester looks forward to a friendship that only grows stronger with time.

Chapter Text

Chapter 53 – When the Blade Meets the Heart. Violet’s Point of View

A year had passed since Violet and Iris became a family. Now a real relationship between mother and daughter, which amazed not only her neighbors, but also the leaders of three nations. Now uninhibited, Iris began to talk, during this year her mother taught her to read. The change in personality was also present. She was more energetic in the presence of Violet, although still shy around other people. Sometimes Felix and his wife visited them. Now there were two reasons for this: one political, the other personal.

One day, however, they had a guest whom Violet did not expect. She opened the door before the guest did:

- Byleth? – she blinked. – The hell are you doing here?

A small voice piped up from inside:

- Mama, who’s— oh! – Iris appeared at her elbow, eyes widening at the visitor. Just as quickly as she saw the stranger, she hid behind the woman’s legs.

- Violet. It has been a long time. I have a request for you. – Byleth reached into his coat. The ring caught the afternoon light as he held it out.

- Hah. You picked the wrong target, Byleth. – she grinned. – Sorry, but I don’t do marriages. Try that on someone else. Like Shez.

- It’s for Shez. – Byleth said.

A silence. The girl muffled a giggle behind her hands. Violet exhaled through her nose:

-...alright, come in. Iris, stop laughing and prepare the tea.

The house was tidy, which was unusual for Violet, there were leaves hanging by the fireplace, which Iris has probably been collecting. Iris was humming the song Violet taught her, pouring tea into cups, stealing glances at Byleth.

Violet flopped into a chair, tossing the peeled potato into a pot:

- It has been a couple of years, since I saw you. Sorry if my house doesn’t suit your tastes. As you can see, there’s a little demon now with me. – after these words, Iris turned her way and smiled. – So. You’re here for a proposal advice. – she smirked. – From me? I have no clue how can I be of help to you.

- I thought you’d be the perfect candidate for it. – he said.

- Why? – Violet asked the question but didn’t wait for him to answer as she continued immediately. – Just ask her. She’d say yes if you just… I don’t know, just tell her how you feel, and if you know beforehand the feeling is mutual, then you’ll be together

- Mama’s bad at romance. She proposed to me with a meat pie. – Iris gave Byleth a cup.

- It was a good meat pie. – Violet grumbled. – And when will you stop mocking me in front of the guests? Sheesh, it only took you one year to turn from a silent edgy child into a brat. Apologies up-front!

Iris smiled. Byleth studied her. Iris definitely looked older than what he imagined:

- Felix said you had a daughter. He implied… differently.

Violet’s smirk faded. She set down her cup:

- Yes. Found her around here after the war. Imperial troops killed most of the people in the bordering village. I didn’t even know something terrible like this happened, when I got a house here. – a pause. She looked at Byleth, he seemed to have been bothered by it. – I don’t have any grudges against you. You were hired later, weren’t you?

- Yes. A couple of months after the war started. – he raised his eyes back.

- So, we’re good here. – she looked at Iris and placed her hand on her head. – Her family was killed in the first days of the war. She survived though. Somehow she managed to live until I noticed her on one of our walks with Felix. She was silent at first. But look at her now? Got the energy to trashtalk me!

Iris gently placed her head Violet’s hand, showing a quiet gesture of affection.

- I shouldn’t have come. – Byleth stood abruptly. – Sorry for taking your time.

- Sit down. – Violet sighed. – You’re here now. Talk. You didn’t go all this way to come back empty-handed, right? Maybe I could help you somehow.

He told many things, every general thing they did with Shez. Even the most embarrassing moments. Making out in battles, Jeralt catching the sight of Shez’s hand under his shirt, kisses at the table for everyone to watch. He mentioned everything. Iris sighed dreamily. Violet rolled her eyes from embarrassment.

- How come I listen to all of this. – Violet covered her face with her palm. – I really need to think about changing my occupation. But. – she abruptly pulled her hand away from her face. – I guess I could’ve been suffering from the same thing at some point. Maybe. Listen, you’re practically married, just not on paper. Just make it official!

- How?

- Take her somewhere quiet. – Violet leaned back, arms crossed. – Kneel. Say something like, ‘Stay with me.’ Then let her cry on you for a while. Or… no-no-no! – she gestured showing it’s not the idea. – Forget it! I’ve got a better one. Imagine yourself in a spar. Then you pounce her on her shoulder blades. You take her hand. Then you pull out the ring. And put the ring on her finger! Perfect!

-…but what if she says no?

- Are you stupid or just blunt? With everything’s going on, I’m sure this is exactly what she expects from you! You already show more enthusiasm in your relationship, than the majority of the couples.

-…I see.

- Don’t worry, Mr. Byleth! Ms. Shez will definitely be happy with you. – Iris added. – Otherwise, my mom will not be happy. Just say ‘I love you!’, and that will work. I said the same to mommy.

- Dummy. – Violet ruffled her hair. – That’s a little bit of a different situation. But anyway, don’t worry if you fail, because you won’t. Otherwise, I guess you both can keep these cringe moments inside you for the rest of your lives, until you die of cringe. – she chuckled.

Byleth smiled:

- Thank you, both. I’ll figure out the rest from here. Then I guess it’s time for me to go.

As Byleth mounted his horse, Iris pressed a small pouch into his hand:

- Flower seeds! Plant them when you’ll propose to her. The flowers are beautiful. Mommy’s favourites! Mama thinks her strength can solve anything, but flowers are way nicer!

-…here it goes again. – Violet rolled her eyes in a playful way.

- I will. Thank you. – Byleth smiled taking the pouch with him.

- So. Just to remind you once again before you leave. A deal. You remember about it, right?

- Of course, we do. We wouldn’t want our heads rolling from your blade.

- Good. Then take care, Byleth. And good luck.

He only nodded.

- Bring Mrs. Shez to visit! – Iris waved wildly. – Mama needs friends who aren’t grumpy swordsmen!

- Traitor. – Violet closed her eyes. – And why do I even allow you do this… – she smirked.

Chapter Text

Chapter 54 – The Wedding of a Demon and an Angel

The heavy metal doors of Garreg Mach Cathedral groaned as Violet pushed them open, her boots echoing against the ancient stone floors. Small, hesitant footsteps followed close behind, Iris clinging to her jacket, while Felix brought up the rear, his usual scowl deepening as incense and candle wax filled the air:

- You're sure about this? – he muttered

- If it fails, I've got a backup plan. – Violet said without turning.

- More threats? How original. – he grinned.

- By Ashera, Felix. – she exhaled sharply. – Just because I put you all in your place once doesn't define me. We fought side by side, or did you forget?

- Doesn't change the fact that half the continent still fears you.

- I swallowed my pride to help you with the Adrestia’s civil war last year. You should be more thankful.

-...fair point.

At the altar, Seteth turned, his posture stiffening at their approach. His gaze flickered to the child hiding behind Violet.

- Felix. Violet. – he said, voice measured. – I wasn't informed of your visit. – he switched his view on Iris. – And this is...?

- My daughter now. Another victim of the war. – she placed her hand on Iris’s head.

- A war provoked by Edelgard.

- Right you are!

- Why come here after all this time? – he crossed his arms.

Violet stepped forward, her voice cutting through the cathedral's hush:

- I want the Church's blessing to hold Shez and Byleth's wedding here.

A weighted silence. Seteth's fingers tightened around his clothes’ fabric:

- After your... aggressive stance toward the Church, I find that request difficult to entertain.

- Your Church overstepped. – she didn’t flinch. – Even as an outsider, I saw it. You know I'm right.

- Reform takes time. That doesn't justify dismantling centuries of tradition!

- I held everyone to the same standard, you were no exception. And I could’ve dismantle the whole thing, if I wanted to.

- You treated us like we’re the Western Church heretics! – he scowled.

- And I helped you deal with them. Even after the war.

- Rhea was forced to resign! – he ignored her words.

- You chose that. You knew she cannot be the head of the Holy Place after the war was over. Your choice was smart.

- You broke her! – he raised his voice.

- Not my fault she couldn't accept that Fódlan had outgrown her dominance. In a way, Edelgard was right. Even though her reasons were wrong in general. – she shrugged.

Seteth's composure cracked:

- You dismiss her suffering? She lost her mother! She fought to keep this land safe!

- And I lost my friends, my family, I saw comrades meeting the most terrible fate, and I couldn’t do anything about it, some of them I knew would meet their awful fate in the future, yet again couldn’t do anything to fix that. Suffering isn't exclusive to your archbishop.

- Mommy. – Iris tightened her grip on Violet’s jacket.

A tense silence. Then Seteth spoke:

- There’s nothing to talk about. If there’s still something human in you, you will leave this place in peace.

- Mommy... does this mean Shez and Byleth can't get married here? – Iris whispered to Violet.

Violet exhaled:

- OK OK. You got me. – she smiled and shrugged. – Here's my offer: I'll join your Knights of Seiros. Again.

Seteth's head snapped up:

- You expect me to believe you'd serve the Church after everything?

- I'll protect it. Under two conditions though. First, Iris and I get quarters here at the Academy. Second, you honour real reform. No backsliding into Rhea's dogma. An agreement that we reached. – she leaned in. –  You need me, Seteth. I can handle the jobs your knights can't, heretics, rebellions, whatever you name. I’ll destroy them all for you. Just like I did in the past.

Seteth studied her, then glanced at Iris, still peeking out from behind Violet.

-…swear to uphold the Church's true purpose. Protection, not control.

- Only if you remember the difference. – she smirked.

Seteth extended his hand:

- We have an agreement then.

- I knew you were a smart one. It’s a pleasure doing business with you. I’ll see you in a month, and after their wedding, I’m all yours.

As they turned to leave, Felix arched a brow:

- Didn't expect you to join their ranks. – Felix said. – Was that your plan?

- Sort of. Since I'm staying here for quite some time, I might as well help every party here. – Violet said.

- Mommy, does that mean Shez and Byleth will marry here! – Iris seemed excited.

- Yes, dear! – she smiled and ruffled her hair.

- Will we leave near the library here? You told me before there’s a library!

- I will ask Seteth to settle us near it. Everything for you, dear.

- Yay! – she hugged Violet. – I love you, mommy!

- Hehe. – she smiled.

The heavy cathedral doors groaned shut behind them as Violet, Felix, and Iris stepped into the afternoon light. Iris skipped ahead, already chattering about where they might live in the Academy, when—

- FOR THE ARCHBISHOP!

A blade erupted from Violet's chest in a spray of crimson, Catherine's snarl hot against her ear.

- MOMMY! – Iris screamed, her eyes became watery.

Felix yanked her behind him and drew his sword:

- Catherine! What in the—!

- You think you can walk away after what you did?! – Catherine panted. – Rhea screamed when you voiced your demands. She wept like a child! And you. – she twisted her blade viciously. – You just smirked at the table! Monster!

Violet's head lolled back to meet Catherine's gaze, her lips curling into a wicked smile:

- Aww. That tickles a little.

Catherine's eyes widened. She wrenched the sword upward, only for Violet to catch the blade between two fingers, stopping it cold.

- Oops. That won't do. – with her free hand, she pushed the tip, sliding the steel smoothly from her body. The force sent Catherine stumbling back, crashing onto the cobblestones.

Blood pooled at Violet's feet, then stopped. The wound sealed itself, flesh knitting together as if it had never been. She sighed, examining the ruined fabric:

- Damn. It was my favorite jacket too.

Catherine scrambled up, wild-eyed, then lunged past Violet, straight for Iris.

- YOU—! – Felix exclaimed, taking his stance to protect the child.

But Violet was faster. She caught Catherine's wrist mid-lunge and slammed her into the ground hard enough to crack stone. Kneeling on her back, Violet leaned down, her voice a soft, deadly whisper:

- Touch my daughter, and I'll show you what real heresy looks like.

The moment Catherine's body hit the cobblestones, Iris's wide eyes locked onto Violet's already-healed wound, just like that time months ago when her mother had nicked her finger while peeling apples, the cut vanished before Iris could even fetch a bandage.

- What is the meaning of this?! – Seteth walked into the scene, panicked.

Violet didn't turn. Her grip tightened on Catherine's wrist, then twisted until a sickening crunch echoed in the walls of the Academy. Catherine's scream was cut short as she passed out from the pain.

- She threatened Iris. – Violet said.

Seteth's gaze flickered between the unconscious knight, the bloodstained sword, and Violet's pristine torso. His jaw tightened:

- I…I see. – he said that as if he was guilty, though he wasn’t. Without hesitations, he signaled to the two nearby guards. – Take Catherine to the prison. She will answer for breaking the peace of the cathedral grounds and for threatening a child’s life. – as the guards pulled up her body, Seteth turned to Violet. – My apologies. To you and your daughter. I’ll deal with her personally.

- Make sure the word of it won’t reach Rhea. Who knows what her reaction will be. – she said simply.

- I know. – he looked at her torso again. – …you were wounded. Can I offer you something as an apology?

Violet looked at an already calmed Iris and wiped off her tear Iris didn’t even know was there:

- Yeah, only one thing. Can you settle us near the library when we will come again?

- It’s that simple. – he closed his eyes and smiled. – That’s the least I can do. Though I hope this incident didn’t make you change your mind?

- No, it didn’t. As we talked before, I rely on you, and you rely on me. That will be the next step for our trust. – she then turned to Iris. – Let’s go, little owl. I promise the next time we will be here, I’ll let you read whatever you choose. Thanks to Uncle Seteth. – she winked to him.

- Thank you, Uncle Seteth! – Iris waved widely, as they walked away.

Seteth could only smile.

A month later. The wedding day. The scene opens in a sunlit dormitory room in the Academy. Shez sat in front of a mirror, scowling at her reflection while Violet stood behind her, carefully combing her purple hair, gently. Iris sat on the floor nearby, weaving a flower wreath. Shez was grimacing at her reflection:

- Ugh, I look like a damn ghost in this dress.

- Quit whining. It looks good on you. – Violet said.

Shez glanced up at Violet’s reflection, the ex-mercenary was wearing an uncharacteristically elegant white dress, her usual jacket nowhere in sight:

- Wow. You clean up nice. That actually suits you.

- Special occasion. Don’t get used to it. I only do it, because it’s your day.

Shez sighed, tugging at the lace on her sleeves again.

- You think Byleth will like it?

- That man would marry you in a potato sack. You look beautiful. Right, Iris?

- Pretty! Like a princess! – Iris said looking up from her wreath.

Shez huffed but smiled slightly. Violet stepped back, examining her handiwork:

- There. I did it for Iris multiple times. I think it looks good.

A knock at the door interrupted them. Violet let the outsider open the door. Seteth stood in the doorway, his usual stern expression softened slightly:

- How are the preparations coming along?

Iris immediately jumped up and skipped over, holding out the flower wreath she’s been working on.

- For you! It’s made of Mommy’s favourite flowers!

Seteth blinked, then accepts it with a small, genuine smile:

- Thank you, Iris. It’s… lovely.

Violet crossed her arms, smirking.

- You seem to be liking her.

- The ceremony will begin shortly. – he ignored the jab. – Don’t be late. – he turned to leave, but hesitates, glancing back at Violet. – And… thank you. For keeping your word. – he got the nod from her, then turned away, but was interrupted by Flayn. – Flayn? I told you, they can handle it themselves.

- Nah-uh, brother! – she protested. – I want to help them anyway.

- It is fine, Uncle Seteth. – Iris said. – We can make some more wreaths.

- What a lovely child! – Flayn immediately jumped to her. – What is your name?

- Iris! – usually frightened around strangers, Iris confidently said her name. – And you, Ms..?

- Drop the Ms. I’m not that much older than you! I’m Flayn!

Violet looked at her, showing a doubt on her face.

- Shh. – Flayn shushed to Violet. Then turned back to Iris. – I’d be glad to help you with your handwork!

Violet just shrugged and turned her eyes back to Shez. Shez exhaled sharply:

- Okay, how did you actually convince him to let us get married here? Last I checked, you were on a very bad terms with the Church.

Violet shrugged, adjusting the sash on Shez’s dress:

- Simple. I told him I’d join the Knights of Seiros again.

- You WHAT?! – she choked.

- Temporary arrangement. Iris gets to live near the library, Seteth gets a glorified attack dog, and you get your fancy Academy wedding. Everyone wins.

- You really shouldn’t have done this for us…How can I even repay you this?

- Mama says it’s strategic! – Iris said cheerfully.

Violet ruffled Iris’s hair. Shez exhaled, shaking her head with a laugh:

- I’ll figure out what I can do for you.

- You can buy Iris a book that can’t be found here, if you wish to “repay” me. – Violet grinned.

In the other room, Byleth and Jeralt were preparing their part of the preparations. Byleth stands stiffly in his formal attire, staring at his reflection. The cravat at his throat felt like a noose. Behind him, Jeralt chuckled, the sound was rough, but more affectionate:

- Never thought I’d see the day my kid cared more about clothes than his sword belt. – his fingers brushed Byleth’s shoulders as the old man adjusted the fabric. – Quit fidgeting. You’ll wrinkle it before the ceremony.

-…what if she doesn’t come? – Byleth said.

- But still… what if he won’t like it? – Shez said in the other room.

- That she will change her mind? – Jeralt snorted. – That woman once dragged your wounded body to the camp—

- Stop being stupid. – Violet’s tone changed. – From what he told me he once beat his mercenary man, where no one could see them, because he said you were a monster—

-…she covered you from the arrows with her body. Multiple times—

-…he didn’t pull of his eyes off you, while you were healing from a deadly wound—

-…and don’t get me started how I once found you one morning in a tent, her hand tucking under your shirt.

-…and don’t make me remember that he told me he once got his food directly from your mouth. Gross!

- Now quit bitching. It’s your wedding day. – Violet and Jeralt said that simultaneously in different rooms.

-…thank you, dad. – Byleth smiled.

- Couldn’t say it rougher. – Shez smiled.

The cathedral’s grand doors had barely closed behind the arriving guests when King Dimitri stepped into the quiet alcove, his cane tapping softly against the stone floor. The years of illness had carved deep lines into his face. At his side, Marianne hovered, her fingers brushing his elbow in silent support. Their son, Lambert, lingered near the pews, clutching a small wooden knight figurine, a gift from Felix, no doubt. The kid was no younger than Iris.

Claude was already there, lounging against a pillar with a glass of wine in hand, Hilda at his side. His smirk was as sharp as ever, though there was something softer in his gaze now, something that hadn’t been there during the war.

- Never thought I’d see the day. – Claude mused, swirling the wine in his cup. – The King of Faerghus and the Leader of the Leicester Federation, standing in the same church without trying to kill each other.

- Stop it, Claude. – Dimitri smiled. – It’s not the first time we’re meeting.

- I know. Trading, mutual respect, diplomatic relationship, blah blah. But to tell you the truth, I wouldn’t expect us being here together.

- I must confess. – he glanced toward the altar, where Byleth stood in his formal attire. – I never expected him to be the one binding us all together again.

- Guess Shez’s stubbornness finally wore him down. – Claude chuckled.

- She was fighting with you in a war, right?

- Correct. Though I never expected to see that side of her.

Before Dimitri could say anything more, the doors swung open again, and Ferdinand von Aegir walked in, his crimson coat was a bold contrast to the muted tones of the cathedral. Mercedes followed him. Her serene smile was as steady as ever!

- Ah! The illustrious leaders of Fódlan’s great nations, gathered at last! – Ferdinand announced a little too loudly for the sacred space. He shook Dimitri's hand in greeting, then turned to Claude. – I must say, it’s refreshing to see you without an army at your back.

- And you without a speech about nobility’s obligations. – Claude raised his cup in mock salute.

- Adrestia humbled me in more ways than one! – Ferdinand laughed, though his eyes flickered with something heavier.

- The civil war? – Dimitri said gloomily.

- Yes. – Ferdinand’s smile dimmed. – With Edelgard’s death, we all were on the edge. We would not have survived it without… outside assistance. Though you were supposed to stay away from our problem…

- Remember that it was my decision. – as if summoned by the unspoken name, Violet emerged from the shadows near the altar, her white bridesmaid dress was a stark contrast to the usual jacket she wore. Iris trailed behind her, clutching a basket of flower petals. – That was assistance that came with conditions. They’re good boys for listening to me. – she smirked at Dimitri and Claude.

- I and Adrestia are the most grateful for your support. – Ferdinand bowed. Then his upper body rose up. – Without it, I don’t know what would’ve happened to my homeland. I cannot thank you enough. The least I can do is working on improving the relationship between three nations. The Republic of Adrestia is the new Adrestia, and as its leader, I will prove you that.

- The Kingdom is ready to offer you any help. As long as it doesn’t hurt us, we’re ready to cooperate with you. – Dimitri said.

- Yeah, well, the Federation will help you in the ways we can. – Claude said.

From behind Dimitri’s cloak, the young prince peered at the girl clutching Violet’s hand. Iris, ever bold, peeked right back, until Violet’s dry voice shattered the silence.

- Don’t be shy. – she said, nudging Iris forward. – It’s your future husband.

- Mommy! – Iris’s shriek sent petals flying from her basket. Her face burned violet to match her hair.

Dimitri chuckled, resting a gaunt hand on Lambert’s shoulder:

- It’s alright, son. She doesn’t bite. Go greet her.

The children inched toward each other.

- I’m Lambert. – the boy mumbled, staring at his boots.

- Iris. – she announced, shoving the flower wreath into his hands. – This is for you! And. – a deep breath, as if reciting something practiced. – It’s the start of our friendship!

Lambert blinked at the blossoms, violets and lilies entwined, still damp with morning dew. When he finally smiled, Dimitri could only mirror him. For a moment he forgot his burdens and tried to focus on his family’s happiness. He looked at Marianne, she smiled back.

- Well, to the new beginnings! – Claude raised his glass.

The great doors of the cathedral swung open, and there, framed in golden light, stood Shez. She started to walk towards Byleth. His breath caught. The woman who had once dueled him every day, who had laughed through bloodied teeth as their blades clashed, now stood before him in a gown of ivory and silver. The delicate lace sleeves did nothing to hide the strength in her arms, the way her fingers flexed slightly, as if missing the weight of her swords. Her violet hair, usually wild and untamed, was woven with tiny white blossoms, and when she met his gaze, her lips curved into that same reckless grin that had haunted his dreams for years. For a man who had faced death without flinching, Byleth found himself utterly undone.

Seteth cleared his throat, waiting for the vows. Byleth opened his mouth, and forgot every word he had practiced:

- Stay with me. – he said instead, his voice was rough.

Shez gave a small chuckle before saying in a soft voice:

- Always.

- You’re beautiful like that.

She only smiled.

Seteth began. He turned to Byleth:

- Do you take this woman to be your wife?

- Yes. – with no hesitation.

- And do you, Shez, take this man to be your husband?

- Hell yes. – Shez’s fingers tightened around his.

Iris’s chuckle rippled through the crowd. Seteth continued.

- Then you may—

He couldn’t finish as Byleth was already pulling her into the kiss. The first kiss as husband and wife. The cathedral erupted in cheers, but it was the individual reactions that told the true story of this union.

Leonie, who had complained loudest about their "disgusting public displays of affection," now sobbed openly into Jeralt's shoulder:

- Dammit. – she hiccupped. – They're actually perfect together.

The grizzled captain didn't even attempt to hide his own tears, his weathered face alight with joy as he murmured words meant only for the heavens:

- Sitri…you’ll love her.

Violet stood rigid near the front. Her usual expression turned to something… that more resembled her younger self, as she didn’t try to stop nor hide her tears. Beside her, Iris wept openly into her flower basket, her tiny shoulders were shaking:

- It's just so beautiful! – she wailed, utterly overwhelmed.

New leader of Adrestia dabbed discreetly at his eyes with an embroidered handkerchief while Mercedes beamed beside him, her hands clasped in delight. Claude maintained his characteristic smirk, though there was something softer in his expression as he watched his former ally find happiness. Even Dimitri, his health still fragile, stood a little taller as he witnessed this union that symbolized the peace they'd all fought so hard to achieve. Felix, ever the picture of disinterest, nevertheless didn't release Bernadetta's hand throughout the entire ceremony, his wife covering her mouth with her free hand.

And as the cheers rose to the ceilings, Byleth and Shez stood together, no longer Imperial mercenary and Alliance blade, no longer enemies or rivals, but simply two souls who had found their way home in each other.

Chapter Text

Chapter 55 – A Mother’s Shadow

The room was quiet, lit only by the dim glow of a single candle. Iris lay curled beneath her blankets, her chest rising and falling in steady rhythm, Nero the cat purring at her feet. Violet stood over her, watching, protecting. With a slow exhale, she raised her hand.

- Zmey.

The ash came out of her body, then coalesced into the massive, shadowy, three-headed form of Zmey Gorynych, his crimson eyes glinting in the dark.

- I’m listening, Lady Violet. – the dragon rumbled.

- Just Violet. – Violet rolled her eyes. – Never mind. – she crossed her arms. – You know how Mavka can lurk in shadows and spy on people? Can you do the same?

- You wish to protect her. – Zmey’s three heads tilted in unison.

- Yes. – Violet admitted, her voice uncharacteristically soft. – After Catherine attacked me and nearly lunged at Iris, I’m not taking chances. Mavka’s fragments are too weak to guard her alone.

- Hey! – from the corner, Mavka’s voice hissed indignantly.

- Sorry, but it’s true. – Violet didn’t look over. – So, Zmey, can you do it?

- That, I cannot. – the dragon’s shadowy form flickered. – But…

- But?

- You can bind a significant part of my essence to her. I will exist within her shadow, unseen but ever-present. That way I’ll no longer stay with you, but only with her. Should danger arise, I will act.

Violet exhaled sharply:

- I guess I’ll have to tell her about my powers. But not yet, after the mission. – her eyes narrowed. – What are the risks?

- None that I foresee.

- And it won’t corrupt her? Turn her into a half-freak like me?

- No. The bond is yours alone. Even within her, I answer to you.

- Again, you’re not my slave, and I’m not your master. But I’ll ask one last time: Any risks?

- As long as I remain in this state there should be none.

- Just so we’re clear—if you try to take over her body, I’ll peel you out of her and finish you myself. – Violet’s smirk widened.

- La—I mean, Violet. – Zmey’s eyes glowed brighter, almost amused. – I am your loyal… friend. I would never harm your daughter.

- I know. – Violet said, her tone lighter. – Just joking. – she glanced back at Iris, then nodded. – Ready?

All three heads bowed.

- Then watch over her. – Violet murmured.

A tendril of black smoke slithered from Zmey’s form, curling gently around Iris before sinking into her. The girl stirred slightly but did not wake. Violet brushed a strand of hair from Iris’s forehead.

- Sleep well, little storm. – she whispered. – You’re protected.

Chapter Text

Chapter 56 – The First Mission from the Church in a While

The morning light filtered through the stained-glass windows of Seteth’s office, casting fragmented colors across the polished desk. Violet leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, her usual smirk in place.

- You called?

- Ah, Violet. – Seteth looked up from his paperwork, his expression softening just slightly. – It’s good to see you.

- Makes it a bit nostalgic, doesn’t it? Feels like old times, back when you’d scowl at me for skipping paperwork.

- Perhaps. Though it is… unusual for you to say that, given how we parted last time.

- Hey, come now. We settled that before Shez and Byleth’s wedding. Water under the bridge, right?

- My apologies. – Seteth exhaled. – That should have stayed in my thoughts.

- Don’t sweat it. – she waved a hand dismissively. – So, what’s my first mission back? Hope it’s nothing radical, I’ve had enough of those for a lifetime.

- Given the current peace, I’ve decided the Church’s best approach is influence through soft power.

- Soft…power? – she raised an eyebrow.

- Precisely. Ferdinand has requested our assistance. Remnants of the old Adrestian regime have incited a rebellion in Brigid. The Republic cannot spare troops, they’re still rebuilding after the civil war. So, you will go as the Church’s representative. Your task is to quell the uprising, preferably with minimal bloodshed. Any captured rebels will be handed over to Adrestia for trial.

- Told you you were the smart one here. – Violet’s smirk widened. – Solve two problems at once. And without any massacres or ‘heretic’ purges? This I like. – she pushed off the doorframe. – I’ll move at once. But before I go… can I ask Flayn to watch Iris while I’m gone?

- I doubt she’ll refuse. I’ll speak with her.

- Thanks, Seteth. – she turned to leave but paused, glancing back. – Oh, and don’t worry, I’ll make sure Brigid remembers the Church’s kindness.

With a playful salute, she strode out, leaving Seteth alone with his thoughts.

The sky burned crimson as Violet descended like a comet, her landing kicking up a swirl of sand and palm leaves. The guards tensed, hands on their weapons, until Petra stepped forward, her face breaking into a wide grin.

- Ah! It is Violet!

- Hey, Petra. – she said dusting off her shoulders. – Heard you needed help.

Petra clasped her forearm in a warrior’s greeting:

- Your timing is most excellent. And you are… faster than I remembered.

- Perks of the job. Hey, your Fódlan’s gotten way smoother since last time. You’ve been practicing!

- You have my thanks. I strive for fluency. – her eyes flicked to Violet’s armor, the silver-and-golden insignia of the Knights of Seiros gleaming in the dusk. – This armor… Are you with the Knights again?

- Guilty as charged.

- Does this mean the Church of Seiros now officially aids Brigid?

- Yeah, sorta. Originally, it was Ferdinand who wanted to help, but Adrestia’s still picking up the pieces after their civil war. So he called in a favor. – she smirked. – And the ‘new, improved’ Church, now with zero sins, is happy to oblige.

- This is surprising. When Ferdinand recognized our independence, I thought it was… what is the word? A bluff to gain allies.

- Turns out the guy’s got principles. Funny, huh? One second you’re waiting for the knife in your back, next thing you know, they’re pulling you to your feet. – her voice softened, just for a moment. – Happened to me too. Everyone figured I was just a demon who knew how to threaten and break things. Turns out I’m pretty good at fixing them.

- I have never thought you a demon. Without you, Adrestia would still be drowning in chaos.

- True that! Now. – she cracked her knuckles. – Lead the way, Your Excellency. We can swap war stories after I scare your rebels into taking a nice, long nap.

Petra chuckled, gesturing toward the jungle-covered highlands where smoke curled in the distance:

- Then let us begin. I will show you the trouble spots.

Chapter Text

Chapter 57 – The Shadow and the Saint

The room was bathed in the golden haze of sunset, the air thick with the quiet hum of a sleeping child. Iris lay curled beneath her blankets, her breath steady, her fingers clutching the edge of her pillow. The door creaked open, slow, deliberate.

Rhea stepped inside. Her once-radiant skin was pallid, her emerald eyes hollowed by grief. In her trembling hand, a dagger caught the dying light. She moved like a specter toward the bed, her voice a venomous whisper.

- So… you are the demon’s offspring. That creature took everything from me, my throne, my purpose, my faith. But I will take more from her. – the dagger glinted as she raised it. – Do not fret. I will make it slow. And when she returns… she will find you pinned to this very door displayed for her. Just as she left me, broken.

The blade descended *shing*

A shadow detonated from Iris’s form, three pairs of crimson eyes flaring in the dimness as Zmey Gorynych materialized, his obsidian claws deflecting the dagger mid-air. Rhea staggered back, her breath ragged.

- What—? What abomination—?

Iris jolted awake, her small frame trembling as she stared at the dragon now coiled protectively around her bed. One of Zmey’s heads turned to her, its voice a resonant growl, gentler than its form suggested.

- Fear not, child. We are bound to your mother’s will.

Then. The window shattered. A blur of violet and blue slammed into Rhea, hurling her against the wall with a force that cracked the stone. Violet’s hand locked around her throat, her eyes blazing with cerulean fire, her smirk a predator’s promise.

- You dare lay a finger on her?

Rhea choked, clawing at Violet’s grip.

- You thought you could take your opportunity to kill my daughter. Big mistake. I could feel when she's in danger a mile away. So, is this what you wanted?

The door burst open. Seteth froze, his gaze darting between Rhea pinned like a butterfly, the three-headed dragon coiled around a trembling Iris, and Violet.

- Violet, stop! Let her go!

- This saint just tried to butcher my child. For revenge. Because I dethroned her. Because Fódlan moved on.

- You’re killing her—!

- Oh, good. Maybe she’ll finally understand the pain she wanted to inflict on a eight-year-old.

- M-Mother…!

Violet’s head snapped toward her daughter. Iris’s tears were silent, but her eyes, wide, scared, pleading, spoke louder than any scream. A shudder ran through Violet. The flames in her eyes guttered out. Her grip loosened.

-…take her. – she said hoarsely.

She shoved Rhea toward Seteth, then collapsed to her knees beside Iris, pulling her into a crushing embrace. Her voice cracked.

- Forgive me, little storm. I’m sorry you saw that. I’ll explain everything… Just, please, don’t tremble. It’s over.

Seteth hauled Rhea away, her ragged sobs echoing down the hall. Zmey dissolved back into Iris.

Later the same day

The last light of dusk bled through the stained-glass windows, painting Seteth’s desk in fractured hues of gold and violet. The door opened without a knock, Violet stepped inside, her usual swagger muted, arms crossed.

- You called to scowl at me?

-...Rhea is in the dungeon. – Seteth didn’t look up from his papers.

A beat of silence. Violet’s eyebrows shot up.

- She’s what?

- I’ve… noticed a pattern. – Finally, Seteth met her gaze, his expression weary. – Especially after you rejoined the Knights. I dismissed it as paranoia, but today confirmed it. – he exhaled sharply. – I should have acted sooner.

- Wow. First Catherine, now Rhea. You’re locking up your own people faster than I can piss them off. Sure you trust them more than me?

- Personal feelings cannot outweigh justice. You’ve remade Fódlan without burning our institutions to the ground. The Church endures. The Kingdom remains faithful. Even Adrestia’s republic owes you peace. – his grip tightened on his quill. – Rhea could never accept that. And for that… I apologize.

- Don’t. You’ve got nothing to apologize for. – she tapped the Knights’ insignia on her chest. – I chose to wear this again. That’s how much I trust you. – a flicker of relief crossed Seteth’s face, until Violet added. – Even if it was part of a deal.

-…how is Iris? – he asked ignoring the bait.

- Explained everything. – she smirked. – Kid’s scary calm. – her expression changed into something unreadable. – Almost… happy?

- Because she knows her mother would tear the sky apart for her.

- Flattery won’t save you. – but her smirk held warmth. – She’s drawing with Flayn tomorrow. No fear. Just… excitement. Weird, right?

- Why is that surprising?

- When I found her after the war, she didn’t speak for months. Still freezes around strangers. But with me? With Flayn? – a pause. – She laughs, Seteth. Like none of today even happened.

- She’s eight. Resilience is… unpredictable.

- Yeah, well. Anyway, mission report.

- Ah. I assume it went well.

- Everyone’s alive. – she grinned. – Petra’s shipping the rebels to Adrestia for trial. No massacres, no ‘heretic’ barbecues, just like you asked.

- A miracle.

- No sins,’ remember? Trust goes both ways, boss.

Seteth sighed, but the corner of his mouth twitched:

- We’ll discuss the rest tomorrow. Go. Iris is waiting.

Violet pushed off the wall, pausing at the door:

-...thanks.

Chapter Text

Chapter 58 – Graves and Second Chances

Three months pass as Violet is once again a Knight of Seiros. She’s called to the office, just like every single day. The scent of parchment and ink hung thick in the air as Violet pushed open the door without ceremony. Seteth didn’t look up from his desk.

- A mission?

- No. Not exactly. – he finally met her gaze. – More of a… personal request.

- Oh? Finally using me for something other than your glorified attack dog?

- I’d like you to accompany Flayn and me to Rhodos Coast. – Seteth ignored the jab. – Iris is welcome to join.

- Let me guess, this isn’t another ‘clean up the Western Church’ disaster?

- You know as well as I do that the Western Church ceased to exist six years ago. Thanks, in no small part, to you.

- You are welcome!

- Flayn wishes to visit her mother’s grave. I thought… it might be an educational moment for Iris. To understand the weight of history.

- Father and daughter. Mother and daughter. Yeah, I’m in. – Violet’s smirk softened.

- We leave at dawn. You’re dismissed.

Violet turned to leave, then paused, her hand on the door.

- Seteth.

- Hmm?

- Let me talk to Rhea.

A beat of silence. Seteth’s quill stilled.

- Why now?

- She tried to kill my kid. But maybe, just maybe, there’s still something holy left in that broken saint of yours.

- This doesn’t involve ‘finishing the job’ if she provokes you?

- Please. – she laughed sharply. – If I wanted her dead, she’d have been a stain on the wall yesterday.

-...very well. A guard at the dungeon entrance will escort you.

- Thanks, Seteth. I needed that.

The dungeon air was thick with the scent of damp stone and old iron. Violet’s boots echoed against the flagstones as she stopped before Rhea’s cell. The former archbishop sat hunched on the bare cot, her emerald hair dull in the torchlight, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The flickering shadows made her seem smaller. Frailer.

- You look like hell. – Violet smirked.

- Have you come to take my life, as my mother’s was taken? – Rhea didn’t raise her head. Her voice was a cracked whisper.

- Not here to kill you. – she crossed her arms. – Just to talk.

Silence. Violet exhaled through her nose:

- Fine. I’ll start. – she stepped closer, the torchlight carving sharp angles across her face. – Rhea. You can’t cling to the past. Not to your mother. Not to her ‘legacy.’ Not even to your throne.

Rhea’s fingers twitched.

- Fódlan’s changing. – she continued. – And for once, it’s working. Faerghus still kneels to your faith. Adrestia tolerates it under Ferdinand. Seteth’s policies actually help people. And me? – she smirked. – I’m here to make sure no one backslides.

Rhea remained still, but her breath hitched, just once.

- You lost your power. But faith isn’t about power, Rhea. It’s about belief. Belief in something better. The second you twisted it into a weapon, into control, you became exactly what you hated in Edelgard.

A muscle jumped in Rhea’s jaw.

- Dominance through strength. That’s what I came to end. – she leaned against the bars. – So you’ve got a choice. Keep drowning in ‘what was,’ or adapt. Seteth’s worried. Flayn’s terrified for you. And me? – she pushed off the bars, turning to leave. – I’m giving you a second chance. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.

As Violet’s footsteps faded, Rhea finally lifted her head. Tears streaked her cheeks. But in her eyes, for the first time in years, there was something other than fury. Something like recognition.

Later at Rhodos Coast

The sea breeze carried the salt-kissed scent of memories as the four stood before the weathered stone monument. Waves lapped gently against the shore, their rhythm a quiet requiem for the past. Flayn stepped forward, her fingers brushing the sun-warmed engraving.

- Mother… we came.

- Mother? – Iris tilted her head. – But I don’t see anyone.

Flayn’s hand stilled on the monument. A beat passed before she gestured to the stone, her voice feather-light.

- She rests here.

Iris’s eyes widened. Then, without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around Flayn’s waist, pressing her cheek against her side.

- You lost your mother too, Auntie Flayn? Don’t cry. I don’t remember mine… but I still miss her.

Flayn’s breath hitched. She knelt, pulling Iris into a proper embrace:

- That is perfectly fine, little one. You have us now.

- And Mommy!

- Of course you do.

Seteth watched them, his usual sternness softened by the golden light:

- It is… nice to be here again. Unlike last time, there is no battle. Only peace.

- Yeah. It really is. – a smirk tugged at Violet’s lips. – Remember seven years ago? When you dragged me here with the students? I brought a life preserver and a sack of booze.

- That was… ridiculous. I nearly snapped at you that day. Bringing beach equipment to a holy site, let alone my wife’s grave, was profoundly offensive.

Violet chuckled, the sound blending with the crash of waves:

- Your fault for not mentioning it was a combat mission. ‘Educational purposes,’ my ass.

- Indeed. – he sighed. – But it matters not. Today, we are at peace.

- Yeah. We are.

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by Iris’s giggles as Flayn showed her how to skip stones across the water. Then

- Violet… would you join me in my office this evening?

- Interesting way to ask for a date, Seteth. – she grinned.

- Not a date. Merely… an opportunity to express my gratitude for your work.

- Intriguing. Alright, I’ll think about it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 59 – Seteth

Two weeks later. Moonlight pooled across the desk, silvering the stacks of parchment and the curve of Violet’s cheek where she slept, slumped in the chair by the window. Her usual sharp edges were softened in sleep, lips slightly parted, hair mussed from leaning against the glass. The door clicked open.

Seteth paused on the threshold, his breath catching. For a moment, he simply watched the rise and fall of her shoulders, the way her fingers twitched against her thigh as if even in dreams, she held a sword.

- To think this is the woman who brought Fódlan to its knees. – he mused, stepping closer. – And then lifted it back up.

Gently, he brushed a stray lock of violet hair from her face. His thumb lingered near her temple.

- So vulnerable like this. – he whispered. – So…

He leaned in without thinking, close enough to count the freckles dusting her nose. Her eyes flew open. They froze. Moonlight caught in the gold of Seteth’s lashes, in the blue of Violet’s widened pupils. A heartbeat passed. Two. Then. She leaned forward. He met her halfway.

The kiss was chaste at first, a question, a spark. Then her hand fisted in his robes, pulling him closer as his palm cradled her jaw. For three dizzying seconds, the world narrowed to the warmth of her mouth, the hitch of his breath. Then Violet wrenched away, her cheeks blazing:

- I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what—

- No. – Seteth rasped, equally flushed. – It is I who should beg forgiveness. I only meant to wake you.

He retreated to his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. The distance between them yawned like a chasm.

- Care to explain? – her voice was steady.

- You leaned in first. – he rubbed his brow. – I merely… followed.

A beat of silence. The admission hung between them, fragile as spun glass.

-...could the feeling be mutual? – she said softly.

- Violet—

She cut him off with a shuddering exhale:

- What would Iris think if she saw this?

- What would Flayn think?

- Care to explain that reasoning? – she narrowed her eyes.

- Right after you returned post-war. – he met her gaze.

-...it was almost the same.

A shared memory flickered, the way she approached him, her trust in him, his trust in her.

- You put your faith in me.

- And you protected me.

- You were gentle with me, even after our… difficult reunion.

- And you apologized for mistakes you never made. – Violet smirked weakly.

- Violet! – he leaned forward

- No. – she stood abruptly. – We can’t.

- Why?

- There are…certain things I cannot do. I will just…disappoint you.

- Like what?

She hesitated, then gestured vaguely, her fingers forming a ring, sliding suggestively through with her other index finger. Seteth laughed, the sound startled out of him:

- Oh. I can live without that.

- Seteth…

He leaned forward, but she pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. Her touch burned.

- Iris is waiting. We’ll talk tomorrow.

As she strode out, the door clicking shut behind her, Seteth stared at the moonlit space she’d occupied.

Chapter Text

Chapter 60 – A New Home

A week later. Sunlight streamed through the windows, painting warm stripes across the carpet as Violet strode into Seteth’s office without knocking. He looked up from his papers and for once, didn’t scold her for the intrusion.

- Seteth, hi!

- Ah, Violet! – he stood abruptly.

No hesitation this time. He met her halfway, their lips colliding in a kiss that was deliberate, certain, her fingers tangling in the front of his robes, his hand cradling the back of her neck like she might vanish if he didn’t hold on. When they parted, Violet’s smirk was downright smug:

- You wanted to talk about something?

Seteth cleared his throat, adjusting his disheveled collar:

- Ah, yes. Two matters, actually.

- I’m all ears. – she flopped into a chair.

- First… I visited the dungeons this morning.

- Wow. Someone hates their mornings.

- Rhea… when I spoke to her, she only said, ‘Forgive me.’ – he fixed Violet with a look. – What did you say to her?

- Nothing special! No threats, swear. – at Seteth’s disbelieving glare, she relented. – That’s true! I just… expressed my opinion. Told her to let go of the past. That’s all.

Seteth studied her, the way her fingers drummed a restless rhythm on the armrest, the too-casual tilt of her chin:

- ...I see. She wouldn’t elaborate further.

- And the second question?

A beat. Seteth’s ears pinked:

- I… would like you and Iris to move into our quarters.

- Did I mishear that? – she blinked.

- No. Though I wish to know if it’s acceptable to you and to Iris. Flayn has already agreed. She’s grown quite fond of you both.

-…are you serious?

- Indeed I am.

She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair:

- I’ll ask Iris. Then I’ll… answer you later.

- Very well. I’ll await your— – he paused. – Ah. One more thing.

- Let me guess. – she smirked. – ‘Certain activities’?

- I’m merely curious.

- Someone has genitalia for brains.

- Humor me.

She sighed, her bravado faltering:

- When I got these powers… something changed inside. Then I was told I can’t… be with humans like that. Any child conceived would suffer. And the father too. – her voice dropped. – Didn’t specify how, but… I’m not risking it.

Seteth reached across the desk, covering her hand with his:

- You’re fortunate, then. That’s the least of what interests me about you.

- You flatter me. – she stood, squeezing his fingers before pulling away. – Welp. Duty calls. See you later, Archbishop.

Down in their room

Sunbeams danced through the window, illuminating the scattered crayons and parchment where Iris sat cross-legged on the floor. Flayn knelt beside her, holding a green crayon with exaggerated concentration while Zmey's shadowy form loomed over them, a pencil clutched awkwardly in his ethereal claws. Violet leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed:

- Oh, Flayn? Not rare to see you here, but so early?

- I thought little Iris might enjoy company while you were with Father. – Flayn looked up, her emerald eyes bright. – And we promised to help Zmey with his drawing!

- You're pushing too hard again! – Iris pouted, pointing at Zmey's latest attempt. – Gentle, like this! – she demonstrated with her own crayon, tiny fingers moving with practiced ease.

- I... am trying. – Zmey's three heads bobbed in unison, the pencil trembling in his grip. – Lady Violet, this artistry proves more challenging than battle. Yet it offers knowledge unbounded by bloodshed.

- Never took you for the drawing type. – Violet blinked. – Though I see you're struggling.

- I shall improve! – Zmey declared, one head turning to Iris. – With Lady Iris's most esteemed guidance.

Flayn covered her mouth, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Iris patted Zmey's shadowy flank:

- You're already better than last time!

- Flayn, mind giving us a moment? – Violet's expression softened. – Need to talk to my little storm.

- Of course! – Flayn stood gracefully. – Iris, I'll be right outside.

As the door clicked shut, Iris tilted her head:

- Mama? What's wrong?

Violet crouched to her level, hands resting on Iris's shoulders:

- I talked with Uncle Seteth. He... asked if we'd like to live with him and Flayn. I said I'd think about it. But I wanted to ask you first.

Iris's eyes widened like saucers, her entire face lighting up:

- You mean... I could live with Auntie Flayn? And play with her every day?

- Not that you don't already, but yes. – Violet chuckled.

Iris launched forward, small arms wrapping around Violet's neck:

- Yes! Yes, I want that! Please, Mama!

Violet hugged her tight, breathing in the scent of crayons and childhood:

- Then it's settled. We'll move today. – she glanced at Zmey. – New mission: you protect both Iris and Flayn now. Not that anyone would dare hurt them anymore.

- By your will, Lady Violet! – Zmey's form rippled with pride. – None shall harm Lady Iris or Flayn while I draw breath! – one head dipped toward Iris. – Though I may require further... artistic tutelage.

- How about we celebrate? – Violet stood, offering her hand. – You, me, and Flayn can hit the market. Might even get those honey candies you like.

Iris gasped, then narrowed her eyes:

- Not your spicy ones! Last time my tongue burned for hours!

- Hey, you're the one who stole my sweets! – Violet grinned, tweaking her nose. – Serves you right for raiding Mama's stash.

Iris stuck out her tongue, still pink from last week's incident, and grabbed Violet's hand:

- Flayn's waiting!

As they stepped into the sunlit hallway, Violet cast one last look at Zmey's latest drawing: a lopsided but earnest attempt at a three-headed dragon playing hopscotch.

Somehow, it felt like home.

Chapter Text

Chapter 61 – A Ring

Month has passed since Violet and Iris moved to Seteth’s place. While Violet was on missions in different places, sometimes visiting Iris, Iris herself spent her time with her new friend Flane almost 24/7. During this time, Flane taught the little girl to write, which she did very well.

One day, Violet returned from her mission and, as usual, went to Seteth. Violet pushed open the door to Seteth's office. Moonlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting fractured colors across the floor where their shadows met, first in an embrace, then in a kiss that tasted of chamomile tea and unspoken promises.

- I’m back.

- Yes, please, sit.

Violet flopped into the chair across from him, boots propped on the edge of his desk, a habit he no longer chastised:

- So. New mission?

- Monastery affairs first. But tell me… how are you and Iris settling in?

- The kid’s in heaven. Me? I don’t hate being closer to you when I’m not off playing peacekeeper.

- The feeling is mutual. – A smile tugged at Seteth’s lips. – Any troubles for Iris?

- Unless you count her reading twenty-page fairy tales before breakfast ‘trouble.’ Flayn’s got her writing now, kid learns faster than I can blink. Guess she gets that from her genius of a mother. She’s talented.

- It is only because you reinforce that idea to her. You prove to be a good mother to her.

- Thanks, honey…

A beat. Her eyes widened.

- N-no, no—slip of the tongue! Sorry—!

- I actually don’t mind it. – he smiled.

- Seteth…

He exhaled:

- I visited Rhea.

- Oh? She finally speak?

- She’s… letting go. I want her freed, but…

- But you wanna know if I’ll object? Sure, why not.

Just like that? After she tried to kill Iris?

- I gave every nation a second chance. Why not her? – she shrugged. – Besides… – her voice dropped. – She knows what happens if she ever threatens my kid again.

- Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. She’ll be released tomorrow.

Silence stretched between them. Then Seteth reached into his desk, placing a small velvet box between them.

- There’s… one more thing. – his voice was uncharacteristically rough.

- What’s this? – she froze.

- Open it.

The hinge creaked. Inside, a silver ring gleamed, its center stone a deep violet amethyst, the color of her namesake, of Iris’s eyes when she laughed.

- Seteth, are you—? – her breath hitched.

- Stay with us. With me. Not as a knight, or a guardian… but as family.

- You bastard! – her voice cracked.

- Violet?

Tears streaked her cheeks:

- You know I won’t stay forever. Once Fódlan’s peace is certain, I leave.

- I know.

- And I…I can’t give you children. Can’t even be a proper wife!

- We have children. Flayn. Iris. – his hand covered hers. – Why would I need more when my heart is already this full?

- You’d really marry a woman who’ll vanish one day? – she whispered. – A monster?

- If it means loving you while I can? Yes.

A sob tore from her throat:

- Oh, Seteth… Yes. Yes.

When their lips met this time, it was slow, a seal on a promise, a beginning and an end already written in the stars.

Chapter Text

Chapter 62 – Invitations

Violet and Iris stepped into the Kingdom castle gardens, where Felix stood sharpening his sword, a habit more for comfort than necessity these days. The moment Iris's shadow stretched across the gravel, Felix's head snapped up, his sharp eyes flickering between them.

- Violet. It's been some time.

- Yeah, it has. – she grinned.

Felix sheathed his blade, crouching to Iris's eye level:

- Your kid’s grown. Not the scrawny scrap you dragged off the streets anymore.

- I wasn’t scrawny! – Iris stuck out her tongue.

- Oh, she definitely was. – Violet laughed

- So? – Felix straightened, crossing his arms. – The letter said the Church was visiting. Expected the Archbishop, not his attack dog.

- Seteth’s busy. I volunteered. How’s Dimitri?

- Bedridden. – Felix’s jaw tightened. – Clerics give him three months. Maybe. Stubborn fool’s only making his wife and kid suffer longer. And yet…

- And yet?

- Lambert parades around with his wooden sword, telling everyone his father’s the bravest king in history. – a pause. – Kid’s not wrong. Dimitri worked tirelessly.

- He’ll be a great king.

- You didn’t trek here to discuss how Dimitri’s feeling.

- Nope. – she reached out to her cloak. – Wedding invitation. – she tossed him the parchment, sealed with the Crest of Seiros entwined.

- You’re getting married? Who’s the unlucky bastard?

- Seteth. – she smugged.

Felix’s grip crumpled the edge of the parchment:

- The Archbishop? You’re joking.

- I was surprised too! Uncle just… became Papa overnight. Super weird. – Iris said.

Felix stared at her:

- Your kid talks way more than I remember.

- Flayn’s been teaching her ‘essential skills’, like sassing grumpy swordsmen.

Felix exhaled sharply, the closest he’d come to a laugh in years:

- Fine. I’ll come. If the king’s condition stabilizes. Not that ‘stable’ means much these days.

- Felix… I wish I could help him. – Violet’s smile faded.

- Don’t say that. – Felix’s glare could’ve split stone. – You gave him purpose. He worked himself to the bone because of you. Yeah, it wrecked his health. But he chose it. Happily. – he jabbed a finger at her. – So shut up and take the damn win.

A beat. Then Violet bowed her head, just once:

- Thank you, Felix. – she took Iris’s hand. – Leicester and Adrestia next. See you at the wedding.

- Bye, Uncle Felix! – Iris waved.

The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and blooming orange trees through the open arches of the palace terrace. Claude leaned against the balustrade, a half-peeled fruit in hand, as Violet and Iris approached. His grin was as sharp as the dagger hidden up his sleeve.

- Well, if it isn’t the Archbishop’s right hand herself? To what do I owe the pleasure?

- Not just the right hand anymore. – she smirked.

- Oh? Do enlighten me.

She flicked the wedding invitation at him. Claude caught it midair, his eyes scanning the elegant script, then burst out laughing.

- Huh. You and Seteth? Guess the world’s weirder than I thought. – he tucked the invitation into his sash. – Fine. Me and Hilda’ll come. But only because it’s you.

- How generous.

- So. Rhea’s really okay with this? You, the woman who dethroned her, marrying her most trusted ally?

- She’s moved on. Might even bless us.

- Funny how that works. – Claude whistled. – Outsider waltzes in, fixes everyone’s mess, then marries the most powerful man in Fódlan, the Archbishop. Almost like a fairy tale. – his grin turned sly. – If fairy tales ended with political alliances.

- How’s Leicester?

- Prospering. Trade with Faerghus hasn’t skipped a beat, even with Felix playing regent. And our research pact with Adrestia? – he popped the fruit slice into his mouth. – Best era in Leicester’s history.

- Good to hear.

- You say that like you weren’t the one holding the reins.

- You built this. I just… nudged.

- Nudged? Violet, you’ve got us all on leashes.

- Hehe, Mommy’s like a dog walker! – Iris giggled. – Uncle Claude’s her favorite dog!

- Sharp tongue. I like you. – he winked.

- Thanks, Uncle Claude!

- We’ve got Adrestia and the mercs left. – she and Iris were leaving. – See you at the wedding, Claude.

Ferdinand rose from the war room table, his signature smile as bright as the Adrestian sun overhead.

- As always, it is a pleasure to meet you, my friend!

- You’ve dropped your ‘I am Ferdinand von Aegir’ schtick. – she grinned. – Almost miss it.

- If it pleases you, I shall recommence at once! But first! – he knelt to Iris’s eye level. – Hello, little Iris! Have you grown another inch since last year?

- Uncle Ferdinand, Mommy says I’ll be tall like you! – Iris giggled.

- Wedding invitation. – Violet tossed him a letter. – Husband’s Seteth.

Ferdinand’s eyebrows shot up, then he clapped his hands:

- A delightful surprise! Though unexpected, I shall attend with utmost enthusiasm!

- Faster to reply than Claude or Felix. – Violet smirked. – New record.

- You reforged Adrestia, Violet. Without you, we might still be drowning in civil war. Attending your wedding is the least repayment I can offer.

- Hey. ‘No debts,’ remember?

- Ah, but the agreement never specified if it applied to you. – he winked.

- Mommy, are you a debt collector? – Iris tugged Violet’s sleeve.

Ferdinand threw back his head and laughed:

- Haha! In a manner of speaking, yes!

- Do you beat people who don’t pay? – Iris’s eyes widened.

- We may safely say that.

- Anyway. – Violet rolled her eyes. – One last stop to make. See you at the wedding, Ferdinand.

- Until then, Violet!

Violet and Iris approached the familiar cluster of tents. Shez was polishing her blade by the fire, while Byleth gutted fish with the same precision he once reserved for battlefield foes.

- Hey, lovebirds. Been a minute since your wedding.

- Violet?! – Shez nearly dropped her sword. – Didn’t expect you to show up, and with Iris too! – she scooped the girl into a hug. – Look at how tall have you become!

Violet tossed the invitation at Byleth. It landed in his lap, narrowly avoiding the fish guts. Byleth started reading slowly:

- An invitation… for Seteth’s wedding. The wife is… you? – his usual monotone cracked with disbelief.

- No way—! – Shez snatched the letter. Her eyes darted across the page. – Holy shit.

- Oh it is holy, alright. – Violet smirked.

- And here I thought you joined the Knights just to play matchmaker for us. – Shez grinned.

- That was the plan. – she shrugged. – But… things turned other way, apparently.

- Saint marries a demon. – Shez elbowed Byleth. – Sounds familiar, eh, B?

- Pot, meet kettle. – Violet pointed at them.

Iris, who’d been staring intently at Shez’s midsection, tugged Violet’s sleeve:

- Mommy, why’s Auntie Shez’s belly bigger? Did she eat all the sweets?

- No, little storm. – Violet laughed. – When a man and woman love each other very much, a baby grows in her belly for nine months. – she gestured to Shez’s slight swell. – Like that.

- You love Papa now! – Iris’s eyes widened. – Will your belly get big too?

A beat. Violet’s smile faltered.

- I… can’t have children, Iris. – she said softly. – I’m sorry.

- That’s okay! – Iris hugged her. – I’ve got Flayn! She’s my sister now!

- Yeah. – Violet kissed her forehead. – You do.

- Wow. – Shez fake-sniffed. – So dramatic. Almost made me feel something. – she wiped an imaginary tear.

- So? You coming?

- What kind of stupid question is that? Of course we’re coming! – she grinned wickedly. – Wouldn’t miss seeing Seteth’s face when he chokes on his vows.

- I’ll bring tissues. – Byleth said deadpan. – For Shez.

- See you in a few weeks, then. – Violet laughed.

- Bye, Uncle Byleth! Bye, Auntie Shez! – Iris waved.

Chapter Text

Chapter 63 – The Wedding and Forgiveness

One day before the wedding. The last amber light of day filtered through the stained-glass windows, painting Iris and Flayn in kaleidoscopic colors as they bent over a shared sketchbook. Violet leaned against the windowsill, watching them trace Zmey's three-headed silhouette with laughter, until the door creaked open.

Rhea stood in the threshold, her emerald hair dulled by the dim light, fingers knotted tightly before her.

- Rhea? Do you need something?

A flicker of something crossed Rhea's face as she glanced at the children:

- Might we speak privately?

They went outside. The wind carried the scent of incense from the chapel below as Rhea gripped the stone balustrade, her knuckles pale.

- I... wished to thank you properly.

- I just nudged.

- You rewrote the world with barely a drop of Nabatean blood spilled. – Rhea's lips thinned. – Seteth's reports made that clear, even from my cell. – her voice cracked. – You could have razed the Church. Instead, you let it evolve.

- Did what I thought was right.

A beat. Then Rhea turned fully to her:

- I have a request.

- Funny. – she smirked. – Had one for you too. But go ahead.

- Release Catherine. Let me speak to her.

- That's Seteth's call. – Violet's amusement faded. – But... I don't mind.

- I cannot ask him. Not after everything. – her eyes gleamed wetly. – Please.

The word hung between them, a saint's pride, shattered.

- ...Alright. – she said softly. – He won't refuse.

- Thank you.

- My turn. You're still blessing us?

- Of course. For Seteth's happiness…and yours. – she hesitated. – You... understand what it means for our people?

- Not my culture. But it's his. – she nodded. – That's enough.

A ghost of Rhea's old smile surfaced:

- You've grown gentle, Violet.

- Maybe.

The wedding day. Sunlight streamed through the cathedral's stained glass, casting fractured rainbows across the stone floor where Iris stood fidgeting in her flower girl dress. Zmey's shadowy form coiled around her feet, one head nudging her forward while another scattered petals with precise bursts of dark energy—earning awed whispers from the guests.

At the altar, Seteth adjusted his ceremonial robes for the twelfth time.

- I... did not expect you to officiate. – his voice was low.

- Whyever not? – Rhea’s hands clasped serenely. – This is a sacred day for her as well. – her gaze flickered. – Even if she is your wife now.

- You still resent her. – he side-eyed her

- We spoke. – she exhaled. – I told her forgiveness takes time. She said she would wait. – a beat. – She was... kinder than I deserved.

- Then may that day come swiftly.

- It will. I know it. – she watched Iris giggle as Zmey shaped petals into dragon shape

The leaders of Fódlan clustered together, their finery a tapestry of nations reunited:

- Didn't expect the three of us to share air so soon. – Felix said gripping Bernadetta's hand.

- Last time, it was Dimitri glowering in the front row. His condition's worsened? – Claude asked.

- Like a boar cornered by hunters. But Lambert still parrots that nonsense about his 'strength.'

- It's not nonsense! – Ferdinand protested. – The boy sees his father fighting—

- Marianne barely leaves his bedside. – Felix cut him off. – She knows. – a sharp breath. – But we're not here to mourn. Save it for the wake.

A hush fell as the great doors creaked open.

Violet stepped into the light, her lilac bouquet trembling slightly in her hands. The gown—a cascade of silver-stitched violet silk—was so unlike her armor that even Claude whistled under his breath.

- Funny. – Violet murmured to Shez. – Months ago, I was your bridesmaid.

- Think they'll notice the difference? – Shez grinned. – Purple hair aside?

- I just need one person to. – Violet’s eyes locked on Seteth's stunned face.

As she walked the aisle, Iris darted forward to clutch her skirts, Zmey's shadows weaving a path of glowing petals beneath their feet. And in the front row, Rhea's fingers tightened around her prayer book. Not in anger, but in wonder.

The cathedral's stained glass bathed the altar in jewel-toned light as Violet reached Seteth, her lilac bouquet trembling between them. The scent of incense and fresh petals hung thick in the air.

- I think I might faint. – Violet whispered, voice uncharacteristically thin.

- You and I both.

Rhea raised her hands, the sleeves of her ceremonial robes casting dragon-wing shadows across the stone floor.

- Shall we begin?

Their synchronized nods were almost comical. Rhea's voice echoed through the hall, every syllable weighted with millennia of tradition:

- Seteth, son of the eternal winds, do you pledge yourself to this woman, in peace and tempest, until the stars themselves fade?

- Yes. – without hesitation.

The question turned to Violet:

- Violet, daughter of wandering skies, do you bind your heart to this man, though your path may one day lead you beyond the dawn?

A beat. Violet's throat worked before she rasped:

- Yes.

Rhea's smile was the softest anyone had seen in centuries.

- Then by the grace of the Goddess, you may—

Seteth was already pulling Violet into the kiss before she finished, a collision of lips and laughter that sent the cathedral erupting into cheers.

Felix had Bernadetta's hand crushed in his grip, his usual scowl replaced by something dangerously close to tenderness. Claude whistled through his fingers, his other arm slung around Hilda, whose sniffles betrayed her usual flippancy. Ferdinand dipped Mercedes into a theatrical kiss, her giggles muffled against his lips.

Near the altar, Iris sobbed into her flower basket, tiny shoulders shaking. Zmey's shadowy form frantically dabbed at her cheeks with a handkerchief clutched in his maw.

- I-It's just s-so beautiful! – she said wailing.

- Do not cry, Lady Iris! – Zmey panicked. – Oh stars, how shall I explain tear stains to Lady Violet?!

One of his heads snapped toward the newlyweds as Violet broke the kiss to press her forehead to Seteth's, both breathing as if they'd crossed a battlefield to reach this moment. Her happy day has come. And for the first time in centuries, the cathedral’s hallowed stones seemed to glow with it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 64 – Fódlan, 1196. The Next Generation Rises

Time had touched everyone in Fódlan, except Violet. At 24, she had been granted demonic immortality, freezing her in the prime of her life. More than ten years had passed since the war’s end, yet her face remained unchanged, her violet hair untouched by silver, her body still humming with the same unnatural vitality.

Seven years had passed since the death of King Dimitri, and the weight of his absence still hung over the Kingdom, though his son, Lambert, bore his father’s name with quiet determination. At sixteen, Lambert was set to enroll in the Officer’s Academy, his blue eyes sharp with inherited resolve. But for now, the throne of Faerghus remained under the steady, if reluctant, hand of Duke Felix Fraldarius. The once-tempered swordsman had traded his merciless edge for the weary patience of a regent, though he still griped about "glorified babysitting" whenever Bernadetta wasn’t there to scold him.

A figure emerged from the monastery gates, Iris, now sixteen, her stride confident and her expression unreadable. The cheerful child who once clung to Violet’s skirts had grown into a young woman of quiet intensity. Her violet hair, the darker shade than her mother’s, was pulled into a half-updo, loose strands framing her sharp features.

Her outfit was a blend of her mother’s practicality and her own boldness, a sleeveless tunic beneath a black jacket left open to expose her shoulders, orange stripes cutting through the dark fabric like embers. Thigh-high boots and fingerless gloves completed the look, a warrior’s readiness tempered by youth. One would notice her golden eyes, but nobody would dare to stare into them.

The golden light of dusk filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting prismatic patterns across the ancient tomes that lined the shelves. Iris sat hunched over a weathered book on Fódlan's military history, her finger tracing the battle lines of Gronder Field. The scent of aged parchment and ink filled the quiet space, broken only by the rhythmic tap of her boot against the chair leg. Violet leaned against the bookshelf nearby, arms crossed:

- Knew I'd find you here. You sure you want to spend your free time memorizing troop formations?

- Didn't you do the same when you were a Knight? – Iris didn't look up.

- Still am a Knight. – Violet corrected with a grin, flicking her daughter's half-up ponytail. – And sheesh. Still as serious as ever. Hard to believe you used to cry when I left for missions.

- That was when I was a child. – a faint flush colored Iris's cheeks as she finally closed her book.

- Yeah, yeah. Time flies. – Violet waved a hand. – Anyway. Came with a proposition.

- What kind? – Iris set the book aside.

- Prince Lambert enrolls this year. You remember him?

- The king’s brat who wants to be just like his father. – she said flatly. – Even though… – she caught herself, lips pressing into a thin line. – ...I’m sorry, Mother. I forgot. I didn’t mean to.

- It’s fine. – she tapped the book’s cover. – Anyway. I want you to enroll with him.

- Why? – she frowned. – I can learn everything from you or these books. Why sit through lectures?

- Because discipline matters too. – she leaned in. – And you’ve been slacking on that lately.

Iris’s shoulders stiffened, but after a moment, she dipped her head:

- Sorry, Mother.

- At least you still listen to me. – she smirked. – Talked to your father. Paperwork’s easy, you were born in the Kingdom, so Blue Lions it is. Just need your approval.

- If you say it’ll help me, I’ll enroll.

- Perfect! Oh, and no Zmey summoning. You fight with your own steel. No need to traumatize the noble kids.

- Obviously.

As Violet turned to leave, Iris called after her:

- Mother. – a pause. – ...Thank you.

- Don’t mention it, little storm.

Chapter Text

Chapter 65 – The Study Year Begins

Few months later, a new year starts in the Academy. The chatter of students filled the classroom as Lambert leaned against a desk, arms crossed, listening to his new classmates exchange stories. None were familiar faces from the palace, but he had already begun memorizing names, backgrounds, anything to establish himself as more than just "the king's son."

Then the door opened. Silence fell like a blade. Iris stood in the doorway, her black-and-orange jacket draped loosely over her shoulders, fingerless gloves flexing slightly as she assessed the room. The morning light caught the violet strands of her half-up hair, casting a faint glow against the sharp angles of her face. A boy near the front snorted.

- Wow. Way to greet the king. You lost or something?

Iris turned her head just enough to pin him with a look. The boy’s smirk died instantly, his throat bobbing as he shrank back into his seat. Lambert, however, studied her with narrowed eyes.

- You look familiar. Have we met? At a wedding, maybe…?

- Shez and Byleth. – she said flatly.

- Right! – he snapped his fingers. – You were the flower girl. – he grinned. – Been a while, uh…

- Iris.

- Iris! Good to see you again.

He pushed off the desk and approached, hand extended. The room held its breath. Iris stared at his outstretched hand, then at his face, searching for something. After a beat, she clasped it briefly, her grip firm but fleeting.

- Looking forward to working together.

Iris said nothing. She merely released his hand and walked past him to an empty seat at the back, the whispers of the class rising in her wake. Lambert watched her go, his smile never faltering, but his fingers curled slightly at his side, as if testing the ghost of her grip.

Later at the training grounds

The training grounds burned amber in the late afternoon light, the scent of polished steel and sweat thick in the air. Iris stood motionless near the weapon racks, her golden eyes flickering across the pages of her book. The black and orange stripes of her jacket seemed to drink in the fading sunlight as shadows stretched long across the dirt.

Lambert approached, his training spear balanced effortlessly on one shoulder. The Faerghus crest on his sash was slightly crooked from earlier drills.

- You know, most people come here to actually train. – his breath fogged slightly in the crisp air.

- What do you want? – Iris didn't bother looking up.

- Thought we might spar.

Finally, Iris lifted her gaze. Those unnerving golden eyes, so unlike any other student's, scanned him from his mud-caked boots to the faint scar crossing his eyebrow. Her assessment was swift and merciless.

- You're not worth my time. – she turned a page. – My mother would break you in half.

A few nearby students gasped. Lambert's smile tightened, but he stepped closer, the butt of his spear tapping the ground.

- Well, that's one way to insult me... Well, but Iris, please, just one sparring session.

The book snapped shut so fast it sounded like a blade being drawn. Iris's golden eyes glowed faintly in the dimming light.

- Why do you cling on to me?

- Because you're my classmate, and as a leader I want to get along with everyone.

- That is a lie.

- Huh, you got me. actually, half-lie. I also remember that you're the daughter of Violet. my father told me stories about her. I want to see how skilled are you

- Fine. But you'll buy me two bags of honey drops afterward. The imported Almyran ones.

- Now that's the spirit.

As they moved toward the central ring, the other Blue Lions scrambled for good viewing positions. The whispers were inevitable:

- Is that really the demon's daughter?

- Look at her eyes, like molten gold...

- Think the prince knows what he's doing?

Iris selected a training sword, giving it one experimental swing. The movement was terrifyingly precise. Lambert adjusted his grip on his spear, suddenly less confident in his bargaining position.

The gathered students fell silent as the two took their positions, Lambert in a textbook spear stance, knees bent, weapon poised for a thrust.

Iris stood with one hand on her hip, her training sword dangling loosely at her side like she was waiting for tea.

- You’re joking.

- I give you an upper hand.

A muscle twitched in Lambert’s jaw. Then he lunged.

His spear shot forward in a perfect, practiced thrust, only for Iris to sidestep without even lifting her sword, her boot hooking around his ankle as he passed. Lambert hit the dirt hard, rolling to his feet with a snarl. The onlookers gasped.

- What the—?

Iris hadn’t moved. Her stance was still casual, her free hand now tucked in her jacket pocket.

Unreadable. Unbothered.

Lambert attacked again, this time with a flurry of sweeping strikes, high, low, diagonal, each one met with nothing but air as Iris swayed lazily out of reach. Her golden eyes tracked him like a hawk watching a mouse scramble.

- Come on! – he said through gritting teeth. – Fight back!

- Fine.

Her voice was flat. Cold. Exactly like her mother’s, but without the smirk, without the fire. Just inevitability. One motion. Her wooden sword flashed upward in a silver arc *crack* splitting Lambert’s spear clean in two. The force sent him stumbling back, landing hard on his elbows.

When he looked up, Iris was already sheathing her sword. But for a split second, her glare burned predator-bright, golden eyes pinning him like a dagger to the throat. Lambert didn’t flinch. Instead, he grinned, blood smeared on his teeth.

- That was impressive back there. I— Hey, where are you going?

- Market. You promised.

- Wait, now?

- Yes.

Lambert sighed, digging coins from his pouch as he followed.

The market bustled with merchants packing up their stalls as Lambert jogged to catch up with Iris, who was already unwrapping her honey drops with single-minded focus. The sweet, floral scent of the candies clashed with the savory aroma of roasting meat from a nearby vendor.

Iris crunched through her second honey drop as they walked back toward the academy, the sunset painting the cobblestones gold. Lambert hesitated before speaking again.

- So, Iris… about your parents. Is your father—?

- Dead. – she said flatly.

-...oh. I just assumed, since Lady Violet is your mother, that you had…

- Violet isn’t my birth mother. My real parents died. She found me starving in the south after the war. Took me in. – a pause. – She’s my mother now.

- I didn’t know. I’m sorry. – Lambert’s steps slowed.

- Why are you apologizing? – she side-eyed him.

- Because losing family… it’s hard. And I don’t know what else to say.

- It hurt at first. But now I have Seteth and Violet. They’re my family.

- Wait—Seteth? What does he have to do with—?

- Are you sure you weren’t living under a rock these past seven years? – she raised and eyebrow. – Violet married Seteth. He’s my father now.

- I—how did I miss that?

- Probably because your father was dying. Uncle Felix said he was in bad shape back then. – she tossed another candy into her mouth. – My condolences.

- Iris… – Lambert’s throat tightened.

She flicked his forehead with a finger:

- Cheer up, princeling. You’ll rot the mood in class. I’m the only one allowed to do that.

A beat. Then Lambert laughed, really laughed, for the first time in months:

- Thanks, Iris.

- Don’t mention it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 66 – First Combat

Sunlight streamed through the windows as Manuela stood at the front of the class, her usual dramatic flair tempered by the presence of her guest. Beside her, Violet leaned against the desk, arms crossed, her sharp green eyes scanning the room.

Most students sat at attention, except Iris, who was buried in a book, her golden eyes flicking across the pages with disinterest.

- Class! – Manuela clapped her hands. – Today, we have a special guest who will explain your end-of-month assignment.

- Before we start. – her gaze landed on Iris. – Hey, you. Girl with the book. What’s your name?

The room fell silent.

- You say that like you don’t know me. – Iris said not looking up.

A beat, then the class erupted in laughter.

- Did I blow my cover somewhere? – Violet rubbed the back of her head.

- Afraid so, Lady Violet. – Lambert smiled. – We’re all quite aware Iris is your daughter.

- And here I thought I was being subtle. – she sighed and pushed off the desk. – Anyway, assignment. At the end of the month, you’ll face the other houses in a mock battle. I’ll be watching, and I will note every mistake. – she scanned the room. – I need five volunteers.

Hands shot up, except Iris’s, still glued to her book.

- You, you, you, you… and you, Iris. – she pointed one by one.

- What? – Iris finally looked up. – I didn’t raise my hand.

- Remember what I said about discipline? – she raised an eyebrow.

A few students chuckled. Iris ignored them, her expression flat.

- Fine. But then you have to tell me what you and Father do in your room every evening.

The class exploded in laughter. Someone wolf-whistled. Violet’s face turned scarlet.

- Good one, Iris…

- Thanks. I wasn’t even trying.

- A-anyway! That’s your task. Don’t disappoint me.

The end of the month

The morning mist clung to the training grounds as the three houses assembled, wooden weapons in hand. Iris lingered at the rear of the Blue Lions’ formation, her training sword resting against her hip. The others buzzed with nervous energy, whispered strategies, last-minute stretches, but she stood perfectly still.

Then, softly:

- Zmey.

The shadows at her feet rippled, and the three-headed dragon materialized before her, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.

- You called, Lady Iris?

She didn’t look at him, her golden eyes fixed on the opposing teams:

- I can feel you stirring. You want to protect me.

- I…

- Don’t. The last thing we need is to give some noble’s kid nightmares.

A beat. Then Zmey sighed, a sound like wind through ancient ruins:

- As you command.

- I know you miss our sparring. – she said softer. – We’ll train again soon. But for now. – she tapped her chest, where his power lay dormant. – Stay hidden. Even if I lose. This isn’t worth revealing yourself.

- Good luck, my lady.

The horn’s blast still hung in the air when Iris strode forward, her training sword swinging lazily at her side. Lambert’s voice cut through the clamor of clashing wood.

- Iris! We need to—

- Stay there if you want. I’ll handle this.

Her tone wasn’t arrogant, just matter-of-fact, as if stating the sky was blue.

A Golden Deer fighter charged, his practice axe raised high. Iris sidestepped, hooked his ankle with her boot, and shoved him backward, directly into Lambert’s advancing squad.

Violet, watching from the sidelines, arched an eyebrow.

An arrow whizzed toward Iris’s shoulder. She deflected it with a flick of her sword, not even breaking stride. Three steps, a pivot, her wooden blade tapped the archer’s ribs with surgical precision. He crumpled, wheezing.

- Wha—how?!

Iris didn’t answer. She was already walking away. Black Eagle mage began chanting, fire gathering at her fingertips, until Iris locked eyes with her. No words. Just a glare, cold and unblinking. The mage stumbled back, her spell fizzling out. She turned and fled toward Lambert’s unit instead.

- Boring. – Iris sighed.

She glanced toward Violet, who was now rubbing her temples.

- Why did I volunteer for this? Oh, right, I didn’t.

The rustle of leaves was the only warning before Iris stepped into the clearing—face-to-face with Professor Hanneman, the Golden Deer house leader with his bow drawn, and a burly axe-wielder cracking her knuckles.

- They broke through our defenses—! – the Golden Deer leader yelled.

- Just me. – Iris replied flatly.

- Underestimating us? – the leader’s arrow nocked tighter.

- Overestimating, perhaps.

A beat. Then.

- Fine. Let’s punish her, Deer.

The axe-girl charged, her weapon a blur. Only for Iris to parry with a single, precise motion. Their eyes met. The student froze at Iris’s glare, golden, hollow, like a predator sizing up prey. A sharp thwack of wood against spine, light enough to avoid injury, hard enough to drop her)

- Ghk—!

Hanneman’s Thunder spell crackled toward Iris. She sidestepped, the bolt scorching earth where she’d stood. An arrow loosed. Iris’s sword deflected it midair.

Then she moved. A feint left, the leader stumbled. Her wooden blade slapped his cheek with a sting that left him dazed. A low sweep sent Hanneman sprawling onto his back.

- Yield. – Hanneman raised his hands, sighing.

Later, Iris emerged from the brush to find Lambert and one remaining ally panting, their opponents strewn across the grass.

- Iris—? – his eyes were wide. – Wait, don’t tell me you—?

- And you?

- Black Eagles… handled. – he said grinning weakly.

- Good. Mission over. I’m leaving.

- Oh no you’re not. – Violet dropped in front of her.

Her mother’s smile was all teeth.

- Looks like someone’s earning punishment drills today.

Iris didn’t respond.

- What was that about?

- What?

- The solo rampage. This was supposed to teach teamwork.

- They don’t keep up. – Iris shrugged.

Violet exhaled sharply:

- Listen. When I first came here, I did the same thing—pushed enemies into the Lions’ formation. But I was guiding them, as a knight. And we were fighting bandits, not classmates. – her voice hardened. – How many did you humiliate today?

- Five.

- Five. Including a house leader. – she stepped closer. – How do you think they feel? Crushed in a mock battle by someone who didn’t even try?

- I completed the objective.

- Alone. You could’ve stayed with your team. Covered them. Showed the Lions’ strength, not just yours. – her glare sharpened. – Instead, you made the whole Academy fear you. That’s not skill, that’s arrogance.

A beat. Then.

-...I’m sorry, Mother. – Iris said softly.

- Iris? – Violet blinked.

- I’ll try to work with them. – she met her gaze. – If you think it’s best.

Violet studied her, the slight tension in her jaw, the uncharacteristic concession:

-...didn’t expect that answer. – she sighed. – Fine. Go. But next time…

- I’ll do better. – she nodded.

As Iris walked away, Violet turned to the remaining students, who flinched under her stare.

-Alright. – Violet clapped her hands. – The rest of you, let’s discuss where you went wrong.

Chapter Text

Chapter 67 – First Kill

Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, painting the room in hues of gold and emerald. Iris stood at the doorway, her golden eyes flickering with curiosity.

- You called, Father?

- Yes. Please, sit.

Iris took the chair across from him, posture relaxed but alert.

- Here to scold me the same way Mother did?

- No. – he shook his head. – I heard about your performance in the mock battle. You were… terrifying. – a faint smile tugged at his lips. – You truly are your mother’s daughter.

- Thanks, I guess. – she raised an eyebrow. – But Mother says I went about it wrong. I’ll… try to do better next time.

- Good. That’s not why I called you, though. – he leaned forward, steepling his fingers. – In a week, you and the other students will have a real mission.

- Hmm? What is it?

- Bandits have been sighted south of here. Our knights are herding them toward the mountains. It’s an opportunity for the Academy to test its skills in actual combat.

- Defeat the bandits? – she smirked. – No problem.

- Not just defeat them, Iris. Kill them. – Seteth’s expression darkened slightly.

A beat. Iris’s smirk faltered.

-...kill? – she swallowed hard.

- It will be the first time for many of you. I need you to stay calm. Catherine will accompany you, if needed.

- Ah, her. The one who tried to stab me and Mother. But that’s in the past, right?

- You astonish me. – he chuckled despite himself. – One moment, you’re shaken by the thought of killing. The next, you joke about assassination attempts.

- What can I say? It’s just me being me. – she shrugged.

- Picking up your mother’s lines, I see. – he smirked.

- For a long time now. Shall I go?

- Yes. I’ll see you this evening.

As Iris turned to leave, Seteth added quietly:

- And Iris? Breathe. It gets easier.

She paused at the door, her back rigid for just a moment, then walked out without another word.

At the Red Canyon few days later

Catherine leaned against a boulder, her massive sword resting across her shoulders. As the students approached, she pushed off with a grin.

- Took you long enough.

- Lady Catherine. – Lambert began. – We were told you’d be assisting us.

- Yeah, making sure you kids don’t get gutted on your first real mission. Though someone’s mother could’ve done it better. – she jerked her chin at Iris. – Right, Demon Spawn?

- That’s why you failed to stab us last time. She was too good for you.

- She what?! – Lambert choked.

- Ancient history, kid. – Catherine laughed. – I had my reasons. But Violet forgave me. – she shrugged.

- As did I. – Iris said flatly.

- Not surprised. – she grinned. – Like mother, like daughter. – she eyed Iris. – Though I barely see you around the Academy.

- Strange. I’m always in one place, the library.

- The one place I don’t visit. – she rolled her eyes. – Makes sense.

- I can tell.

- Cocky little shit, aren’t you? – she pointed her sword toward the canyon’s heart. – Bandits are holed up ahead. You stab, I clean up if needed. Healers, stay sharp. – Then, to Iris. – You’re with me.

- What? Why me again?

- Because you’re the only one here who won’t piss themselves at the first sight of real blood. – she smirked. – And besides, rumours about your mock battle spread around the Academy. It was indeed a mock battle.

A beat. Then.

-...fine. – Iris sighed.

As they moved forward, Lambert fell into step beside Iris, his voice low.

- You really don’t like following orders, do you?

- I follow smart ones.

Ahead, Catherine’s laughter echoed.

The first bandit fell before Iris’s blade like wheat to a scythe, a single, clean stroke across the throat. Blood sprayed hot across her gloves, but her hands didn’t shake. Strange. She’d expected panic. Revulsion. Instead, there was only a cold, clinical detachment.

To her left, Lambert wrestled with his own opponent, his spear thrusts growing more desperate until the point jammed between ribs. He yanked it free, breathing hard, eyes wide.

Their gazes met. Iris gave a single nod.

- C’mon. Forward. – Lambert swallowed.

More bandits surged from the rocks. This time, Iris stepped aside, letting her classmates advance. Her breath came quick, adrenaline humming in her veins, but she kept her sword ready. A Lioness student drove her blade into a bandit’s gut… then froze, staring at her blood-slick hands.

- I… I just… – she whispered.

The bandit beside her didn’t hesitate. He lunged, sword aimed for her spine. Iris moved.

- Move!

She shoved the girl aside just as the blade bit into her shoulder. Pain flared, blood soaking her jacket sleeve. The bandit grinned, until he met her golden eyes. For a heartbeat, he froze. Then Iris’s sword punched through his stomach and tore sideways.

Blood dripped from Iris’s shoulder, staining the dust at her feet. Lambert skidded to her side, his spear slick with gore.

- Are you okay?!

- Fine. – she said, her teeth gritted. Then a whisper, too low for him to hear. – I’ll handle it, Zmey. Stay down.

- Did you say something?

- Move. – she pushed him away. – I’ll catch up.

The healer’s magic knit her flesh together in seconds. Iris rolled her shoulder, good enough, and charged back into the fray.

Lambert blocked a bandit’s wild swing, his arms shaking from the impact. Then Iris’s blade punched through the man’s lungs from behind.

- We make a good team.

- In your dreams.

Then.

- Who the hell do you brats think you are?! – the bandit leader roared.

Silence.

- Oops. – Catherine smirked, leaning on her sword. – Dropped in unannounced. Ever heard of the Violet Demon? Yeah. This is her kid. – she nodded to Iris. – Show him how it’s done, Spawn.

- What? Me again?

The leader froze. Her golden eyes locked onto his, cold, unblinking, like a wolf sizing up prey. He lunged. Iris sidestepped, hooked his ankle, and shoved him face-first into the dirt.

- You dare mock—?

He whirled, but she was gone. A shadow fell over him. He looked up, just as Iris dropped from the sky, her sword a silver flash. Too fast. The blade split his chest open. He collapsed onto his back, gasping.

- P-please… spare. – the bandit begged.

Iris drove her sword through his heart. No hesitation. No remorse. Just silence.

The bandit leader’s corpse lay still at Iris’s feet, her sword buried in his chest. Then. Her knees hit the dirt. Breaths came sharp and fast, her fingers trembling against the bloodied ground.

- Iris—? – Lambert tried to reach out to her.

- I’m… fine. – she slapped his hand away. – Just need…a moment.

Catherine’s shadow fell over them, her massive sword resting on her shoulder.

- Not bad, kid. – she grinned. – Still slow compared to me, but you’ll get there.

Iris ignored her, staring at her bloodied gloves.

- Scary, though. – Catherine continued. – You’re different from Violet, she’s all flash and speed. You? Just… efficient.

- I use what works. – Iris said flatly.

- Exactly. And hey. – she nudged the dead bandit with her boot. – You even listened to Mom today. Saved your classmate. Teamwork.

Iris said nothing. Her golden eyes flicked to the trembling student she’d shoved from harm’s way, no warmth in Iris’s gaze, no pride. Just acknowledgment. Allies. Enemies. It didn’t matter.

- Alright, brats! Collect your guts and let’s move out. You didn’t completely embarrass yourselves today.

As the others gathered their gear, Lambert lingered beside Iris.

- You sure you’re okay?

Iris stood, wiping her blade clean on the bandit’s cloak.

- I said I was fine. Now, let’s go.

Chapter Text

Chapter 68 – The Inevitable Goodbye

Two months later. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting long shadows across the dining table where Iris found her family waiting. She took her seat, her golden eyes flickering between them, Violet’s forced smile, Seteth’s solemn gaze, Flayn’s fidgeting hands.

- How’s student life treating you?

- Fine. – she picked up her food. – Still top of the class.

- Heard you’ve made friends. – Violet grinned.

- I was forced to. – she said flatly.

- That girl you saved two months ago, Maria, right?

-...you’re too observant.

- Glad you’re not alone. – Violet said softly.

A silence. Then Seteth cleared his throat.

- Iris, there’s something we need to discuss. Violet?

Violet exhaled, her fingers tightening around her cup.

- Remember when I told you about Khronos? And how we came from another world?

- Yes! – Flayn said brightly. – Your stories were fascinating!

- Well… he reached out. There’s an anomaly in my homeworld. He’s been sending ‘travelers’ to fix it, but they can’t stay long. He needs someone native, someone like me. Someone who’s not affected by the corruption.

-…you’re leaving? – Iris froze.

Violet shook her head:

- Not yet. I bargained for two more years, to watch over Fódlan, and… to stay with you three.

- There’s more. – Seteth said quietly. – Claude and Hilda… they perished in a storm at sea. Lorenz now leads the Federation.

- I’ll meet with the leaders tomorrow. After that… I have two years left.

- Let me come with you! – Iris stood abruptly.

- You can’t. – she shook her head. – Unless you’re immortal like me, you can’t stay in the foreign world for too long. The corruption will eat you over time. – her voice cracked. – I won’t lose you like that.

- We always knew this day would come. – Seteth said gently.

- I don’t care! – Iris sobbed. – I want to stay with you!

Violet reached up, her thumb brushing away Iris’s tears:

- Oh, little storm… This is the first time I’ve seen you cry in years.

- Mother—! – Iris clung to her.

- Shhh… You’ll be safe here. – Violet pulled her closer. – With Seteth. With Flayn. They’re your family too.

- We’ll be okay, I promise. – Flayn said, tears streaming.

Something shattered in Iris’s chest. Then, the dam broke. She lunged forward, arms locking around Violet’s waist, her face buried in her mother’s shoulder.

- NO! Mother—!

Violet held her, her own tears falling into Iris’s hair:

- It’s okay… It’s okay…

- Will you ever visit? – Seteth’s voice was thick

- I can’t promise.

Flayn sobbed harder. Seteth pulled her close, his hand steady on her back.

- Flayn… don’t cry. We’ll be fine.

Chapter Text

Chapter 69 – The Last Concil

Derdriu, Federation Headquarters. The war room smelled of aged parchment and sea salt, the afternoon light filtering through stained-glass windows depicting Claude’s greatest triumphs. Violet entered to find the three rulers already seated, Felix, his perpetual scowl softened by time; Ferdinand, his fiery hair now streaked with silver; and Lorenz, posture impeccable despite the weight of recent loss. She dropped into her chair with a sigh.

- Funny how history works. The three nations, now ruled by the kings’ and emperor’s right hands. – she smirked. – Guess I trained you all too well.

A beat of silence. Then.

- Before we start, why the hell is there a memorial of me in the capital? I’m not dead.

- Claude’s idea, not mine. He said you’d leave one day. Wanted you… remembered.

- Or to curse me from the grave.

- That would be like him. – Lorenz smirked.

- First, my condolences. Claude deserved better than a storm.

- He achieved everything he wanted in fourteen years. Left no regrets.

- And you? What’s your play now?

- Continuity. Claude’s vision worked. I’d be a fool to dismantle it.

- And Almyra?

- Still loyal. Claude left his children there, too young to rule, but the council manages well.

- Thought you abolished blood inheritance.

- In Leicester, yes. Almyra governs itself. Different rules.

- Felix? Ferdinand?

- Nothing changes. – Felix said arms crossed. – We keep cooperating. If Lorenz doesn’t screw it up.

- Adrestia agrees. – Ferdinand smiled. – Our scientific partnerships continue.

- Good. – Violet leaned back. – Then Fódlan’s in better hands than I thought.

- What do you mean? – Felix narrowed his eyes.

- I’m leaving.

- When?

- Two years. Honestly, I hoped you’d start a war so I could kick your asses one last time.

- That’s not a joke. – Ferdinand frowned.

- Fine, fine. But if you do, Seteth and Iris handle you.

- She got your powers?

- Nope. – she grinned. – But she’ll still wreck you. – she stood. – It’s been an honor, gentlemen. You’re on your own now.

As she reached the door, Lorenz called after her:

- Will we see you again?

- In two years. After that… who knows?

The door clicked shut.

- Damn depressing. – Felix muttered.

- Since when do you care? – Ferdinand raised an eyebrow.

Felix smirked:

- Not my fault she’s hard to ignore. – he stood. – Let’s hope we don’t ruin everything after she’s gone.

As Felix left, Ferdinand lingered.

- Lorenz… again, my condolences.

- Goodbye, Ferdinand.

Chapter Text

Chapter 70 – Lambert

The library was silent, its towering shelves casting long shadows in the candlelight. Iris sat stiff-backed at a study table, a book lying open before her. Her eyes tracked the same line over and over, unblinking, as if the words might rearrange themselves into an answer. Lambert paused in the doorway, then stepped inside.

- Iris... I thought I'd find you here.

No response. The firelight flickered across her hollow expression. He took another step.

- You’ve been skipping classes.

- And I’ll perfect them either way. – her voice was toneless.

- Professor Manuela is worried. She talked to Seteth, but he said to leave you alone for now.

- Smart decision.

Lambert exhaled. He reached for her shoulder. Iris whirled on him, her glare sharp enough to draw blood. Lambert flinched but held his ground.

- You heard Father. Leave.

-...I just want to know what happened.

For a moment, she just stared. Then her shoulders sagged.

- It’s nothing. Just... you know. My mother is leaving.

Her voice was too flat, too controlled. Lambert glanced down. The book beneath her hands was damp, tears, falling in slow, silent streaks. He placed a hand on her shoulder. This time, she didn’t shake him off.

- When she found me, I was scared of her. I thought, Why would this woman help me? But months passed... I started calling her Mother. Then years passed, and she became the only meaningful person in my world. Nothing mattered to me more than her.

A shuddering breath.

- And then she says she’s leaving... What do I do? What do I do without her?

Her composure shattered. Sobs wracked her frame, raw and gasping.

- I don’t care what happens to me there! I just want to stay with her until I die!

Lambert turned her to face him. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, her eyes wild with grief.

- It’s gonna be okay. I promise. Your father will be with you. Your sister will be with you. And... me. I’ll help.

Iris stared at him, really stared, as if seeing him for the first time. Then, impulsively, she leaned in. Lambert met her halfway. The kiss was brief. Chaste. A collision of desperation and comfort more than passion.

When they parted, Iris looked as startled as he felt. A beat of silence. The candle between them guttered, casting the room into deeper shadow.

Neither spoke.

Chapter Text

Chapter 71 – A Date

Sunlight streamed through the windows as Lambert leaned against his desk, chatting with his classmates. The usual pre-class murmur filled the room, until the door slid open with a sharp clack. All eyes turned to Iris, standing rigid in the doorway. Her gaze locked onto Lambert. Without a word, she strode forward and kissed him squarely on the cheek.

The classroom froze. A beat of silence. Then.

- Wow. Ms. Personality bagged herself a King.

Iris’s glare could’ve melted steel. The boy held up his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk didn’t fade.

- Woah, scary.

- I see my glares don’t work on you anymore, Max. – she said coldly. – Fine. Next time, I’ll skip the warning and cut you down instead.

Max paled slightly.

-…point taken.

Iris turned back to Lambert, ignoring the stunned whispers around them.

- This weekend. We’re going to the Kingdom.

- Uh. – he blinked. – Is there something you wanna do there?

- Are you stupid? I’m asking you on a date.

The class erupted. Gasps. A few whistles. Someone dropped a book. Iris’s eye twitched.

- Fine. Looks like I’ll need to stab more people than just Max.

- Okay, okay. – Lambert laughed. – This weekend. I’ve got a few places in mind.

- Good. Don’t disappoint me.

With that, she spun on her heel and marched out, only to nearly collide with Violet, who’d been going to her class.

- Hey, Iris. – Violet smirked.

- M-Mother…

- Heard you were skipping classes. But seems you’re fine now.

- It’s handled. Don’t worry.

Violet reached out, tilting Iris’s chin up with a finger. Her smirk faded.

- Hey… I’m sorry for dropping the news like that. – she said gently. – I know it hurt you.

- It’s fine. Really.

- How about this, we spend the weekend in Brigid? Just us. I already warned Manuela we might stay extra days.

- This weekend? I… can’t.

Violet studied her. Then a slow, knowing grin.

- Ohhh. Lambert, huh?

Iris’s cheeks burned. She looked away. Violet chuckled, ruffling her hair.

- Fine, fine. Go have fun. We’ll do Brigid another time. – a pause. – I’m sorry I haven’t been around enough. These next two years… I’ll make them count.

- Mother…

- Ah-ah! No tears! Class starts soon, right? Go wreck those idiots.

- I won’t let you down.

- You never do.

As Iris slipped back into the classroom, Violet’s smile wavered, just for a second, before she turned away.

Later on that weekend

The café hummed with quiet chatter, steam curling from porcelain teacups. Iris picked at her apple pie, the cinnamon scent mingling with bergamot from her tea. Across the table, Lambert watched her, his own cup halfway to his lips.

- To be honest, I didn’t expect you of all people to call me on a date.

- We kissed the other day. – Iris sipped her tea. – That counts.

- Haha, true. – he leaned forward. – So, Iris. What do you do for fun? Aside from shooting glares at strangers.

- If you’ll keep talking like that, I might stab you too.

- And undo all your mother’s peacekeeping work?

- I’m sure she’d forgive me. – her smirk was faint.

- Point taken.

A pause. Iris traced the rim of her cup.

- I’m… not interesting. Mostly I read. Train.

- I’ve noticed. The library might charge you rent soon.

- Sometimes I spar with Zmey. – she ignored him.

- Zmey?

- Gods, you’re hopeless. – she sighed. – I thought everyone knew about the time Rhea tried to murder me in my sleep and Zmey, the three-headed dragon, tore through the ceiling. –  she tapped her chest. – Mother hid him inside me as a failsafe. It worked.

- I heard rumors at the palace, but I didn’t realize it was you.

- Now he stays with me.

- Why haven’t I seen him?

- I haven’t needed him. And your classmates would piss themselves.

- Aww, you do care. – he laughed.

- It’s practical.

- Can I see him?

- Try to attack me, and you’ll meet him personally.

- Cold as ever. But I like that about you.

- You… do?

- Yeah. There’s something charming in those ice-cold eyes of yours.

- You have a weird definition of charming.

- Haha, maybe.

A silence settled. Iris flexed her fingers.

- Do you want to hold hands? – Iris asked abruptly.

- Why the sudden—?

- It’s cold here, stupid. – she looked away.

Lie. The café was stifling. Lambert’s grin softened. He reached across the table, lacing their fingers together.

- Our climate is harsh. Better?

- Your hand’s warm. – she muttered.

- Yours too.

Another pause, longer this time. Lambert rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

- After the Academy… would you come to the Kingdom with me? – he asked quietly.

- Aren’t you rushing? – she raised a brow.

- Just thought I’d ask while I’m still brave.

- Based on our current relationship? 23% chance.

- So low.

- You can improve it. 1% per date. 0.3% per kiss.

- Then I’d better get to work. – he grinned.

Iris rolled her eyes, but didn’t let go of his hand.

A scream shattered the café’s calm. Before Iris could react, Lambert was already moving, shoving through the door into the chaos outside. A wild-eyed rogue swung an axe at fleeing civilians, his breaths ragged with frenzy.

- Wait! It’s dangerous—!

But Lambert didn’t stop. He snatched a broom from a nearby stall and charged, driving the handle into the rogue’s ribs with a hollow thunk. The man staggered, then snarled, swinging the axe in a wide arc.

Wood splintered. The broom split in two, the axe’s edge grazing Lambert’s tunic as he stumbled back. For a heartbeat, fear flashed in his eyes.

Then. Iris moved. Her fist cracked into the rogue’s stomach, doubling him over. He swung blindly; she dodged, twisted his wrist with a snap, and sent the axe clattering to the cobblestones. A leap, a spin, her boot connected with his jaw, sending him crashing onto his back.

She pounced, knees pinning his shoulders, fists rising. Thud. Thud. Thud. Blood speckled her knuckles, her face, the pavement. The rogue’s struggles faded into twitches. Only then did she stop, chest heaving.

- Thanks. – Lambert said panting, hand pressed to his scratch

- Are you okay? – Iris scanned him.

- Am now. – he grinned weakly. – You’re scary without a weapon.

- 22%.

- What? That was a compliment!

- Penalty for making a woman save you. – Iris wiped blood off his cheek, smirking.

- Hah! Guess I’ve got work to do. – he waved to arriving guards. – Pack this trash up. – turning back to Iris, he offered his arm. – Shall we?

Iris eyed his extended elbow, then nodded once, falling into step beside him. Behind them, the rogue groaned.

Chapter Text

Chapter 72 – The Aftermath of the Street Fight

The next day, Felix arrived to the Academy with a visit. A sharp rap at the door. Before Lambert could answer, Felix shouldered it open, arms crossed, his perpetual scowl softened only slightly by the dim candlelight.

- Uncle Felix!

- Sit down. – he kicked the door shut behind him. – Heard about the fight in the Kingdom. That girl’s good.

- Iris? – he rubbed his bandaged chest. – Yeah. Meanwhile, I just... stood there after failing.

- Tch. You sound like your father. Always throwing yourself between civilians and danger.

- I can’t help it. – he said quietly.

- That’s the part of him I hated most. Stubborn to the bone. – he eyed Lambert’s sling. – But at least you’re alive.

- Sorry…

- Stop apologizing. You’re safe. The civilians are safe. Even the rogue’s technically alive. – a pause. – I’ll thank Iris when I see Seteth.

- Did you come just to check on me? – he tilted his head.

- Two reasons. First, your mother’s worried.

- Tell her I’m fine—

- Second, I wanted to see Violet’s kid for myself. – his gaze flicked to Lambert’s injury. – Scratch looks clean. You got lucky.

- It’s because of her.

- Hmph. How’s your studies?

- Better. Iris helps me with tactics. Though she acts like it’s a chore.

A flicker of amusement crossed Felix’s face.

- So you are getting along. – he turned to leave. – Provisions from your mother are in the wagon. I’ll help you unpack later.

-...thanks, Uncle. – he said softly.

Felix paused at the door, back still turned.

- Don’t die before you inherit the throne, Lambert.

The door clicked shut.

In the other end of the Monastery the scent of bergamot and honey filled the room as the family sat around the table. Iris nursed her tea, her usual stoic expression firmly in place, until Flayn leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief.

- There are rumors circulating that Sister knocked out an armed bandit with her bare hands. Is this true?

- Perhaps. – Iris sipped tea.

- So it is true! They say you protected the crown prince!

- Maybe.

- Sooo… how did the date go? – Violet grinned.

- She was on a date?! – Flayn gasped.

- Mother! – Iris choked on her tea.

- Oh, was it a secret? I thought I was the last to know.

- No, I was aware. – Seteth said flatly. – Everything in the Academy reaches me through the teachers. Manuela told me.

- Father! – Iris’s face was burning as she slid down her chair.

- So it’s Lambert? – Flayn looked delightful. – This year’s Blue Lion? Oh, what a coincidence!

The door swung open.

- Indeed. A coincidence. – Felix said dryly.

- Felix? – Violet raised an eyebrow

- Violet. Seteth. – he crossed his arms. – I’m here to officially thank Iris. She saved the boar’s brat.

Iris now halfway under the table, fingers gripping the edge:

- Oh, for—How many people don’t know?!

- No point hiding it. You did good work. Too good. We could barely ID the rogue after you finished with him.

Iris fully under the table now, voice muffled:

- People pointing at me is the last thing I need.

- Relax. I’m just here to ask how serious this is. Personal request from my mother.

A pause. Then.

- This morning it was 24%. Now it’s… 11%. 9%.

- Hmm?

- Not. Far. – she muttered.

- Shame. – Felix smirked. – Thought Lambert finally found someone who could keep up with him.

Iris emerged just enough to glare:

- Uncle Felix, with all due respect… if you continue, I’ll stab you.

- Still can’t get used to that coldness. Though the empty threats remind me of my wife. – he turned to leave. – Good seeing you all.

As the door shut, Flayn peeked under the table.

- Sister… are you alright?

- I’m never recovering from this. – her voice was hallow.

Above her, Violet and Seteth exchanged a glance, then smiled in perfect unison.

Chapter Text

Chapter 73 – Goodbye. Iris.

The first light of 1198 painted the sky in pale gold as the gathered crowd stood silent before the shimmering portal. Violet lingered at its threshold, her usual smirk absent. Around her, the leaders of Fódlan stood shoulder-to-shoulder with those whose lives she'd touched, Felix, Ferdinand, Lorenz, Dedue, Bernadetta, Shez and Byleth with their child, even Rhea, her ancient eyes softer than they'd been in centuries.

At the forefront, Seteth and Flayn stood like pillars, while Iris remained motionless, her fists clenched at her sides since sunrise.

- Guess this is it. Nineteen years, huh? Should be in my forties by now.

- Too bad it doesn't show. – Felix smirked. – You still look twenty.

- What can I say? I'm that—

- …perfect, I know. Just... don't die out there.

- Leicester owes you much. – Lorenz continued. – Your... direct methods were... educational.

- Adrestia stands united because of you. – Ferdinand smiled. – We'll honor that peace.

- Better. – Violet smiled all teeth.

- Visit sometime, yeah? – Shez waved.

Beside them, Byleth nodded silently, their daughter peeking from behind their leg.

- Y-You were like a second mother to me! – Flayn was sobbing into Seteth’s sleeve. – I'll*sniff*never forget you!

- Hey, none of that. – Violet ruffled her hair. – You've got Seteth. And someone here needs to keep my brat in line.

Iris didn't react, her gaze fixed on the ground.

- Y-You listen! – Bernadetta suddenly darted forward to poke Violet’s chest. – You do have a heart! No matter what anyone says or thinks!

- You aided His Majesty when few would. – Dedue bowed. – Faerghus remembers.

- Eh, just gave him a nudge. – she shrugeed.

A rare smile touched Dedue's face.

- It's time. – Seteth stepped forward.

-...yeah. – Violet said softly.

Their kiss was brief but fierce, a lifetime of unspoken words pressed into a single moment.

- Gross. – Iris said flatly.

- That all you've got? – Violet turned with a forced cheer. – No tears for your dear old mom?

- I'm over it. – Iris didn’t meet her eyes.

Violet's hand came to rest on Iris's head, lingering.

- I'll miss you, daughter.

- We'll care for her. – Rhea said gently.

- Pretty sure it'll be the other way around. – she smirked.

She took a steadying breath.

- Well, it's been a bash. Too bad I won't meet you ever. Farewell.

The word "ever" hung in the air like a guillotine. As Violet turned toward the portal, footsteps pounded behind her. Arms wrapped around her waist.

- NO! – Iris screamed into her back. – Don't go! Please, Mother—!

Violet's shoulders shook as she pried Iris's hands away, turning to cradle her daughter's face. Tears streaked both their cheeks.

- You've been so brave, little storm. – Violet’s voice was cracking. – Zmey's staying with you, he'll keep you safe. And... he'll remind you of me.

Iris collapsed to her knees, wails tearing from her throat as Violet stepped backward into the light. One last whisper carried across the courtyard:

- I'm sorry.

Then. She was gone.

Chapter Text

Chapter 74 – Not the Tellius I know

A pulse of light. A rush of wind. Violet stumbled forward as the portal snapped shut behind her, her boots meeting not dirt or cobblestone, but smooth, unnatural pavement that glowed faintly underfoot. The air smelled of ozone and something acrid.

She looked up. And her breath vanished. Towers of glass and steel clawed at the sky, so tall they seemed to pierce the clouds. Lights flickered and danced across their surfaces, not torches, not magic, but something colder, brighter. Carriages without horses roared past on blackened roads, their blinding eyes sweeping over her as people in strange, tight-fitting garb brushed past without a glance.

- Are you sure this is Tellius?

- Positive. – Khronos said in her head. – Though it’s been two hundred years since you left.

Violet’s knees nearly buckled.

- Two hundred—? I was just getting used to normal time!

Her head swiveled, taking in the chaos. Screens the size of castle walls flashed with moving images, was that a songstress performing with Daein’s emblem? A child nearby tapped a glowing slate, its surface alive with dancing runes. Above, a metal bird cut through the sky, its wings motionless.

- What in the Ashera’s name—! – Violet gripped her head.

- Progress. Though still far from what we have.

A shrill bleeping made Violet jump. A wheeled metal box had stopped before her, its occupant yelling behind glass.

- Oh, you want a fight—?

- Not everything here needs stabbing.

She glared at him, then at the city swallowing the horizon.

-...Iris would’ve loved this.

Her hand drifted to her pocket, where a folded sketch of her daughter, drawn by Flayn, still rested.

- Now, Violet. It seems you need to relearn the world.

Violet squared her shoulders and stepped into the future.

Chapter Text

Chapter 75 – The New World to Discover

The peeling wallpaper and second-hand furniture of Violet's newly acquired office still smelled of industrial cleaner. She lounged on a thrift-store couch, running her fingers over the unfamiliar texture of modern upholstery. A pile of gold coins sat depleted on the coffee table beside crisp new bills, her first successful currency exchange. The card lied close to it.

- Hmm, still feels weird. All of that.

Her shadow rippled violently across the stained carpet.

- Now imagine how I feel! You've been tossing me between worlds like a ragdoll. I think I might scream.

- Do it. – Violet grinned

- No, thanks.

- Anyway, Khronos. First, how do I find those rifts? And second, what do I do with this rock? – she poked at the phone's glossy surface.

- First, you need to insert the SIM card into your phone.

Violet squinted at the illustrated instructions, her tongue poking out in concentration as she fiddled with the tiny tray.

- There! Ha!

- Now, go to the App Store.

- How do I...?

- Tap it.

The screen lit up with colorful icons. Violet's eyes widened.

- Oh, hey, it works!

- Now tap on the loupe icon.

- Here we go!

- Type 'Dark Knight'.

- D-A-R-K... K-N-I-G-H-T.

A list of apps appeared.

- Now download it.

After fifteen minutes of frustrated grumbling and three failed attempts at creating an email address, Violet finally logged in.

- 'DemonHunter666'? Seriously?

- I'll change it later. – she smirked. – Maybe.

- Now that you're logged in, look at the requests. People who've spotted rifts post here. Clear them, and you'll get paid. Normally you can't close rifts, but you could that in Yav’ with your Shooting Star.

- Yeah, I'm awesome, I know.

- Try one now. Click a request.

Violet scrolled with exaggerated swipes.

- This one says 'already chosen'! And this one! And…ah, finally!

- Your phone's GPS will guide you.

- Too many strange words, but I'll get it there. – she stood up. – Well, off I go!

Violet's boots pounded across the asphalt shingles as she launched herself between buildings, her old orange jacket flapping behind her like wings. The wind roared in her ears as she whooped into the night sky.

- I LOVE THIS! THIS FEELS AWESOME!

Mavka's voice hissed from her shadow as it stretched unnaturally across the rooftops:

- Quiet, you! What if people think you're a weirdo?

- So be it! – she said while somersaulting.

She landed hard on a fire escape, the metal groaning under her weight. Pulling out her phone, she squinted at the pulsing GPS dot.

- Hmm, strange. The distance got bigger. Is the rift moving?

- Ugh. You're probably going the wrong direction.

Violet spun on her heel, nearly toppling off the ledge.

- Ah, right! Hehe, sorry about that.

- You're hopeless.

- Hey, this is new for me! – Violet said already sprinting the opposite way. – We'll get better!

- Don't drag me into your failures.

Ten minutes later, Violet crouched on a broken streetlight overlooking the rift, a jagged tear in reality hovering two meters above cracked concrete. Below, skeletal warriors clad in rusted armor patrolled in jerky movements. She dropped like a comet.

First Demon. Crunch. Her boot crushed its skull before it could turn. A roundhouse kick sent a second one’s head spinning into a dumpster. On the third one she paused, grinning. "Tickle tickle—" then "UPPERCUT!" The skeleton launched skyward, disintegrating midair.

- Enough playing. – her shadow separated. It expanded, forming blackened spikes that impaled the remaining dozen skeletons in one brutal strike.

Violet wiped imaginary dust from her hands as she approached the pulsating rift.

- We're just supposed to close it... but it wouldn't hurt to clear the ones inside too, right?

- It's your call. – Mavka sighed.

- Then in that case, we kill some more. – she cracked her knuckles.

She goes through the rift. It’s just a cave.

- Huh, was expecting much more than just...a cave. Mavka, any ideas?

- How should I know? Probably centuries have passed here.

- In that case, let's just finish the job, and I'll treat you to something delicious.

Then figures appeared from the shadows. The moment the skeletal warriors lunged from the shadows, Violet’s grin flashed in the dim light.

- Now we’re talking!

The first skeleton swung a rusted scimitar, Violet ducked, pivoted, and drove her elbow into its ribs. Bone shattered. Before the pieces hit the ground, she snatched its spine midair and whipped it like a flail into the next attacker’s skull. Mavka erupted from her shadow, forming a serpentine tendril that coiled around a third skeleton and crushed it to splinters.

- Behind you! – Mavka hissed.

Violet didn’t turn. She backflipped over the sweeping blade of a fourth foe, landing with one knee on its shoulders. Her free hand yanked its skull sideways until the vertebrae snapped like dry twigs.

- Boring! – she taunted, kicking the decapitated body into two advancing warriors. They collapsed in a clatter of bones, just in time for Violet to leap off their crumbling forms, twist midair, and drive Shooting Star downward in a blazing arc. The sword’s edge split a skeleton clean in half, blue flames devouring the remains.

A spear jabbed toward her ribs. Violet caught the shaft, smirked, and yanked, pulling its wielder into a brutal headbutt. The skull exploded like porcelain.

- Mavka! Playtime!

Her shadow detached, surging across the cave floor like ink. It solidified into razor-edged claws that skewered three skeletons at once, lifting them off the ground before flinging them into the wall.

Violet sprinted up a stalagmite, kicking off to somersault over a swarm of skeletons. As she descended, Mavka coiled beneath her feet like a spring, launching her downward like a meteor. Her heel smashed through a skeleton’s collarbone, the force cratering the stone beneath it.

- Still too easy! – she rolled, avoiding a swinging axe, and retaliated with a palm strike to the attacker’s sternum. The shockwave pulverized its entire ribcage.

The last skeleton raised a shield. Violet feinted left, then spun low, sweeping its legs with a roundhouse kick. As it toppled, she jammed Shooting Star through its eye socket, pinning it to the ground. Blue fire erupted, reducing it to ash.

Silence. Violet wiped imaginary dust off her shoulders:

- See? Told you we’d finish fast.

- You wasted three good moves showing off.

- And you are just jealous. – she smirked.

The ground trembled as a hulking Goblin emerged from the darkness, its beady eyes glinting with mindless rage. Saliva dripped from its jagged teeth as it sniffed the air, zeroing in on Violet.

- So, you might be their leader here? – Violet tilted her head.

The Goblin answered with a deafening roar, spittle flying.

- Yeah, thought you weren’t much of a talker.

With a thunderous stomp, the beast lunged, its massive fist hurtling toward her. Violet leaned back lazily, letting the blow slam into the cave wall behind her, sending rock fragments flying. Before the dust settled, she hopped onto its arm, balancing effortlessly as if standing on a railing.

- You know, you could really work on your movements. Maybe lose some weight too. Let’s try it without this!

In one fluid motion, Shooting Star flashed. The Goblin’s arm severed clean at the elbow, sending Violet spinning through the air like a dancer before landing gracefully, her smirk never fading.

- Gra~cious!

The Goblin howled, clutching its stump as black blood gushed. Enraged, it charged again, its remaining fist cocked back for a crushing blow. Violet leaned on her sword and yawned.

Just before impact Mavka struck. Her shadow surged upward, forming a glistening black spike that impaled the Goblin through the chest, lifting it off its feet. The creature gurgled, limbs twitching helplessly.

- Good job, partner!

With a final decapitating slash, the Goblin’s head tumbled to the ground, its body collapsing into a heap.

- Now, let’s go outside and close the rift now that we’re finished here. Oh wait—

Her phone buzzed. A notification:

"GET 10% MORE PAYMENT FOR DEMON PARTS THIS WEEK!"

- Hey, lucky me! – she grinned. – Okay, let’s just grab some things from the big one.

She crouched beside the corpse, yanking out nails, prying teeth loose, and even plucking eyeballs with a wet pop.

- Ew, gross. – her nose wrinkled. – But that should be enough.

Tossing the gory loot into a pouch, she strode toward the rift, Shooting Star glowing brighter as she prepared to seal it shut.

- Let’s go!

Chapter Text

Chapter 76 – Formation of an Addiction

Violet strolled down the neon-lit sidewalk, hands in her pockets, her shadow stretching unnaturally long behind her.

- You know, Mav, we’ve been killing it lately. Iris would call it… what was it? Efficient. – she smirked. – And the paychecks? Nice.

- Yeah, and we finally have enough to upgrade that dump you call an apartment.

- True. But now I’ve got too much money. – she rubbed her chin. – Being the top demon hunter has its downsides.

- Oh, I don’t know… maybe buy an air conditioner? Crimea summers are hell.

- Yeah, I might consider—

She froze mid-step.

- Huh? Why’d we stop?

Violet’s eyes locked onto the glittering casino sign ahead, its neon lights reflecting in her widening pupils.

- How about we gamble a little? – Violet grinned.

- ARE YOU SERIOUS?! The air conditioner! You’re just gonna lose it all in there!

- Relax, it’ll be fine. A few spins won’t hurt.

Violet plopped into a seat at the nearest slot machine, feeding a wad of cash into the machine with reckless glee.

- LET’S GO, GAMBLING!

She slammed the button. Nothing.

- Oh, dang it.

Second spin. Nothing.

- Oh, c’mon!

Third spin. Nothing.

- FOR FU—

- JUST STOP BEFORE WE LOSE EVERYTHING!

- Mav, you don’t understand. 90% of gamblers quit before they hit big.

- I’m pretty sure that’s a joke quote.

- Nah, it’s real. Now, let’s continue.

One hour later. Violet lay face-down on the slot machine, her arms dangling limply at her sides.

- GOOD JOB! GOOD JOB, ‘PARTNER’! YOU JUST BURNED ALL OUR MONEY! NOW WHAT?!

- We’ll just… do another mission… and then I’ll win it all back. I swear.

- GET YOUR STUPID ASS OUT OF HERE! NOW!

- Fine, fine… but my slot machines…

Mavka’s shadow rippled violently, forming a glowing red eye that burned into Violet’s soul.

- I’LL STAB YOU.

Violet sighed dramatically and slumped out of the casino, her dreams of riches crushed, but her gambling addiction still very much intact.

Chapter Text

Chapter 77 – Violet Blue Featuring Donte from the Donte May Cry Series

One year passes, since she’s in this new world she once called home. The fluorescent lights of the electronics store hummed overhead as Violet adjusted her snapback cap, eyeing the rows of colorful game cases with childlike wonder. Mavka's shadow stretched unnaturally across the tiled floor, pulsing with quiet curiosity.

- Okay. Now that we've got our computer, trying these 'games' wouldn't hurt. This is research. Cultural immersion.

- At least it's not gambling this time... Though I'll admit, this could be interesting. Let’s see what they have in store. – the shadow rippled. – Pun not intended.

Violet wandered through the aisles, fingers trailing across plastic cases adorned with fantastical artwork, spaceships, medieval warriors, cartoon plumbers. Her nose scrunched.

- Hmm. They all look neat, but... I don't get it.

A sales associate approached, his polo shirt emblazoned with the store logo.

- Good day, miss. Need help finding something?

- Yeah, actually. First-timer here. Wanna buy a game, but... – she gestured vaguely at the wall. – Overwhelming.

- What system?

- What system? – she blinked. – I just wanna play it on my computer.

- PC, got it. – he nodded. – Any genres you like?

- Still speaking nonsense! – she threw up her hands.

The seller chuckled.

- Right, fresh start. Let's break it down: Shooters: guns, explosions, online multiplayer. RPGs: story-heavy, leveling up. Strategy—

- Ooh, demons. Anything where I kill demons?

The seller's eyes lit up:

- Ah! Perfect.

He vanished down an aisle, returning with a sleek case.

- Just got this in, 'Donte May Cry 3: Special Edition.' Enhanced version of the original DMC3. Action RPG hybrid. – he flipped the case. – Half-demon protagonist, stylish combat, literal demon-slaying...

Violet's gaze locked onto the cover art, a silver-haired man in a tattered red coat, his chest bare only covered by the said red coat, a massive sword resting on his shoulder.

- Oh-ho. – she grinned. – This guy gets it. – she tapped the glass case. – This I like!

- Great choice! Checkout's this way.

As they walked, Violet tilted the case, studying the protagonist's smirking face.

- Kinda reminds me of someone...And as pretty as that someone.

- Please don't start calling yourself 'Donte.' – Mavka said dryly.

The dim glow of the monitor illuminated Violet’s face as she leaned forward, controller in hand, eyes locked on the screen.

- Okay, let’s see what this has to offer.

The opening cutscene played, Donte, the silver-haired demon hunter, getting impaled by five spears from shadowy demons. He stood up like it was nothing, dragging the spears, and the demons still holding them, behind him as he casually strolled toward a jukebox.

- This party’s getting crazy! Let’s rock! – the character said.

He punched the jukebox. Nothing. Punched it again. Still nothing. Then smashed it! His fist went straight through it, and the music blared to life.

Violet’s jaw dropped as the game transitioned into an over-the-top action sequence, Donte styling on demons before obliterating them in a storm of bullets and sword slashes.

- This… is peak cinema. – she whispered.

She grabbed the controller, determined to master this art form.

Hours later

The clock ticked past midnight. Violet’s fingers moved furiously across the controller, her eyes bloodshot but unblinking.

- C’mon, we have a request! – Mavka said from the shadows. – We could be making money right now!

- Wait, wait, wait! I almost got him!

- You said that an hour ago! You’re still on the same boss!

- Cerberus is strong, okay?! But I’m not giving up. Not after they showed me so much juice already!

- Grr! Fine! But make it quick!

Morning

Sunlight streamed through the blinds. Violet was still there, controller in hand, hair disheveled.

- Are you seriously still playing?! – Mavka asked yawning.

- Just one more mission! I almost beat his brother!

On screen, Donte got knocked down again.

- NO! I WAS SO CLOSE!

- Maybe you should rest.

- Just this one and that’s it.

Noon

Violet’s eyelids drooped, her head bobbing forward before she jerked herself awake.

- Finally. – she yawned. – What time is it? – she checked the clock. – Oh… 12 PM. Time to… sleep, I guess. Good night, Mav.

And with that, she face-planted onto the couch, controller still clutched in her limp hand.

- Oh, sinful Veles, rescue me from this hell…

Chapter Text

Chapter 78 – Violet’s “Juicy” Experiment

The portal hummed behind Violet as she cracked her knuckles, a manic grin stretching across her face.

- So… you ready?

- What’s with that face? You’re scheming something.

- Just thought I could make my style a bit juicier. – Violet smirked.

- Don’t tell me—

- YES!

- Veles, give me strength to endure this…

They stepped through.

The skeletal warriors emerged from the shadows, rusted blades in hand. Violet rubbed her nose and waited.

First Demon lunged. She sidestepped, then.

- UPERCUT!

Her sword launched the skeleton skyward. She jumped after it, slashing twice mid-air before driving it down with a final plunge, her blade quaking the ground on impact.

Second Demon charged. She impaled it, then.

- TWIRLY WHIRLY!

Her sword became a blur, sending the next foe spinning upward. As it fell, she shifted stance, timed it just right.

- RE-UPPERCUT!

The skeleton rocketed back up as Violet spun with it, boots leaving the ground in a showy flourish before landing gracefully.

- You’re insufferable. – Mavka said flatly.

More skeletons advanced.

- Okay, time to unleash my power.

The first strike came, a rusty cleaver aimed at her skull. Violet didn’t dodge. Instead, she crossed her arms, a cobalt aura flaring around her. *clang* The blade bounced off harmlessly, the skeleton staggering back from its own rebound.

- Oh come on—! – Mavka said.

The demons swarmed. Slash after slash deflected, each blocked hit charging the aura brighter. Violet’s smirk widened.

- I’m not gonna sugarcoat it.

Then.

- RELEASE!

A shockwave of blue energy erupted, vaporizing every skeleton in a single, cinematic burst. Silence.

- Huh. – Violet dusted off her coat. – Way more fun than just stabbing.

- I hate you.

- Need to buy guns now. Then I'll totally be like Donte.

-…don't. Waste. Our money.

- Haha, it'll depend—

A deafening roar cut her off as the creature emerged from the shadows. Lion fangs dripping venom, lion head watched her with pride in its eyes, goat eyes rolling wildly on its back, serpent tail hissing.

- Human, you chose death today. I, Chimera,  will be your end.

- Funny, I was gonna say the same thing. But first. – she held up a finger. – Quick Q&A. Do you stink like the goat? Or does your wife bite your balls? Or maybe you suffocate your snake every evening? Which one’s the real you? Or are you all of them?

The Chimera sniffed the air, confused.

- You... smell like us. But different. – its goat head bleated nervously. – Impossible! You reek of Chernobog's kin!

Violet sniffed her armpit:

- Nah, that’s just new deodorant. Eau de Demon Slayer as I call it.

- No matter! We’ve surpassed the old gods. You’re nothing!

- Heh. Let’s see it.

The Chimera pounced, lion jaws snapping. Violet sidestepped. As its snake tail tried to bite her she vanished, reappearing nose-to-snout with the beast.

- Tricked ya!

Her fist slammed into lion’s head, sending it crashing to the ground. Before it could react, she grabbed the snake tail and spun like an Olympic hammer thrower.

- Wheee! Family ride!

She hurled it into the cavern wall, stones shattering on impact. The Chimera rose shakily, all three heads now bleeding. They circled each other, Violet still not drawing her sword.

- Sooo... impressed, la creatura?

- You. Will. DIE.

It charged again.

- ROYAL UPPERCUT!

Violet’s fist connected under its jaw in a perfect timing, launching it upward. She caught the snake tail mid-air, whipped it downward in a suplex that cracked the floor, then stomped on its spine with a sickening crunch.

- H-how...?

Violet crouched over it:

- They say two heads are better than one, but nobody warned you about the third, huh? – she patted the goat head. – Those lil’ snake strikes? Adorable. You’d kill in the circus.

Shooting Star materialized in her hand.

- Maybe in another life.

The blade plunged.

Violet wiped gore off her cheek, kicking the corpse.

- Alright, loot time. So? How’d I do?

-...not terrible. Could’ve been cooler if I got to play.

- Hah, so you liked it! – she tossed Chimera’s fang in the air. – Next time, partner.

She strolled toward the rift, humming Donte’s battle theme.

Chapter Text

Chapter 79 – Sunset Heights

Violet soared above the cityscape, the wind whipping through her hair as the setting sun painted the glass towers in molten gold. Her coat flapped behind her like wings, the last light glinting off Shooting Star's blade strapped to her back.

- What a view!

Mavka peeled away from her shadow, forming a hovering silhouette beside her.

- Say, Mav... do you actually think it's working out for us? This demon-hunting thing?

- If you didn't blow half our earnings on slot machines and poker, I'd say yes.

- Haha, it's just a hobby! Nobody's hurt.

- Your wallet is.

- I mean, we've got enough for essentials.

- We still can't afford an air conditioner!

- Life's not about air conditioners. It's about having fun while you can.

- You're immortal. You'll always 'can.'

- Still though. Life's great here.

- You only say that because you've been glued to that damn game for a year. We don't even go outside unless there's a request. Get friends or something!

- Why? I've got you. That's all I need.

A beat of silence. The wind howled between them.

- Wait. – Violet gasped. – Did I just feel heat from you? Aww, did I hit a sweet spot?

- Shut up! I was just thinking of the rudest way to reply!

- Hah! Sure, sure.

They hovered in comfortable silence as the city lights flickered to life below.

- When do you want to leave?

- To Yav'? Maybe next year. I wanna soak in home a little longer. Plus... – she patted her sword. – Portal-closing pays.

- It would, if you didn't light it on fire at casinos.

- What can I say? It's a hobby.

- It's an addiction.

- People drink coffee every day. Doesn't make them addicts.

- You're comparing incomparables.

- Anyway... great view. Tomorrow, I'll try to cut back on gaming.

The next day she did not. The glow of the monitor reflected in Violet's bloodshot eyes as she mashed buttons, a half-eaten pizza congealing beside her.

Chapter Text

Chapter 80 – “I’m Ready for Whatever the Sacrifice”

Three months had passed. The night air was still, the only sound Iris's steady breathing as she stood alone in the swaying grass. She bit her lip, once, hard, then exhaled sharply.

- Zmey.

The ash came out from her body. The massive three-headed dragon materialized before her, his form wreathed in dark mist.

- You summoned me, Lady Iris?

- Prepare for transdimensional transit.

- I don’t understand.

She ignored him. Tilted her face to the starless sky. And screamed.

- KHRONOS!

Louder. Louder. Until her voice cracked and her throat burned. She doubled over, coughing.

- Damn it…

Then. A voice, echoing inside her skull like distant thunder.

- You are Violet’s child.

- I am. – she straightened.

- You seek passage to her world.

- Yes.

Silence. Long enough that the wind picked up again.

- Why won’t you answer?!

- It’s too dangerous for you. The corruption there would kill you within years. You are not suited for that.

- I know. And I don’t care. Let me stay with her, even if it’s just until I die.

A pause. Then.

-…very well. But the cost—

- I’m aware.

The air before her split open, a swirling maw of light and shadow. Zmey let out a warning growl, but Iris didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward and into another night.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. Oil. Metal. Something sweet and artificial. Then the sounds, a distant, rhythmic thumping she’d later learn was music, the constant hum of engines. And the lights. Towers of glass and steel stretched higher than Garreg Mach’s Cathedral, their surfaces alive with moving colours. Horseless carriages streaked past on paved roads, their blinding eyes sweeping over her.

But Iris didn’t gasp. Didn’t stumble. She stood perfectly still, absorbing it all with a hunter’s focus. Then she saw it. A statue in a nearby square, a man with a grand sword, his plaque reading:

Ike – Radiant Hero

A slow, fierce smile spread across her face.

- So this is the world she wouldn’t stop talking about.

She adjusted the strap of her sword and stepped forward.

- Just wait, Mother. I’m coming.

Chapter Text

Chapter 81 – Painful Reunion

The dim glow of a neon sign outside flickered through half-closed blinds, painting Violet's cluttered office in alternating hues of pink and blue. Stacks of video game cases teetered precariously on every surface, mingling with empty takeout containers and a small mountain of energy drink cans.

Violet lounged in her battered sofa, boots propped up on the desk as she flipped through a woman’s journal. The pages crinkled under her fingers, the scent of fresh paper mixing with the lingering tang of cheap instant noodles.

- You know, Mavka, took me three years to adapt to this... new Tellius. But it's pretty cool.

Her shadow rippled unnaturally, two glowing eyes blinking open from its depths.

- You say that like you weren't hit by twenty cars. Or when people laughed at your coat from centuries ago. Or that time you tried to pay for groceries with gold coins—

- You may not continue. – she slammed the journal shut.

She sat on a chair and spun it toward the flickering computer monitor, where a paused game screen displayed a white-haired demon hunter mid-combo.

- Besides, I've got a job now. – she grinned. – With these mini-portals? They're calling me THE 'Demon Hunter.'

- You mean the job you do between gaming binges?

- Research! – she gestured at the screen. – Donte here is educational. And relatable! His brother Virgin. – she snorted. – Funny name. Kinda reminds me of Iris. Well, the stoic part.

Her grin faded. The controller in her hands creaked slightly under tightened fingers.

- Three years... Hope she's okay.

- With that icy attitude? I'd bet good money she's conquered Fódlan by now. Speaking of bets. – her voice sharpened. – Stop blowing our rent money on underground fight rings!

- We paid rent. – she waved her hand. – And gambling's a cultural experience.

- Your 'cultural experiences' are massacres, sadism, and losing at poker. Get a real hobby.

- I have hobbies! – she gestured at the shelves full of videogames.

- That's why we had no water last month! You prioritized electricity to keep playing!

- Someone's gotta test these games, Mavka. – she grinned. – It's a public service.

A knock rattled the flimsy apartment door. Violet paused her game, grease-stained controller dangling from her fingers.

- Must be the pizza.

- You're blowing our demon-hunting earnings on takeout now?!

- It's a cultural experience! Come in! – she shouted at the door.

As she strode to the door, it creaked open on its own and Violet froze. Her gaming headset clattered to the floor.

- No... –  she whispered. – My eyes don't deceive me. Right?

Iris stood in the doorway, her cloak dusted. The neon sign outside painted her face in pulsing pinks and blues.

- Mother. I'm back. – she smiled softly.

A beat of silence. Then

SLAP

Iris staggered, hand flying to her reddening cheek.

- What. Are. You. Doing. Here. – her voice trembled.

- Ouch. – Iris rubbed her cheek. – That hurts.

- I told you the corruption will rot you alive before you're thirty! – she grabbed her shoulders.

- I don't care! Even if I only get ten years, I'll spend them with you.

Violet's hands shook. She tilted her head back, shouting at the ceiling:

- Khronos! Send her back!

- No! – Iris panicked. – I came for you!

- How many times must I say it? You belong with Seteth! With Flayn! Not. – her voice broke. – Not here!

- And how many times must I say I love you? – she shouted. – That I can't breathe without you?!

Violet's breath hitched. The apartment seemed to shrink around them. Finally, she exhaled.

-...fine. We'll talk tomorrow. – she gestured vaguely. – One bed here. I'll take the floor.

- Mother…

- And... I'm sorry. – she rubbed Iris’s face. – For hitting you. – she nodded toward a door. – Shower's there. You can go first.

Iris blinked at the unfamiliar bathroom.

- Right. – Violet sighed. – You wouldn't know. – a weak chuckle. – Guess we're showering together. Consider it... a reunion gift.

Another knock.

- Oh. That's the pizza.

Later, under the flickering bathroom light, Violet scrubbed dried grime from Iris's hair while her daughter marveled at the "magic" of hot running water.

Much later, Iris lay in Violet's bed, watching the rise and fall of her mother's chest on the floor beside her. The city's neon glow painted them both in restless colors.

Somewhere beyond the window, a car alarm wailed. Iris smiled.

Our new adventure starts now.

Chapter Text

Chapter 82 – Their First Mission

The city sprawled beneath them, a labyrinth of flickering lights and humming machinery. Violet scowled at her smartphone, its screen casting a pale glow on her face as she jabbed at the map app.

- C'mon, c'mon! Damn Doodle Maps! Why do people still use this garbage? Landex is right there—

- What is that thing? – Iris peered over her shoulder.

- A smartphone. Though right now, it’s being profoundly stupid.

- Still smarter than you.

- One more joke and I’m stuffing you into a portal back to Fódlan.

The app finally pinged.

- Ha! Got it. Demon nest’s right behind the next building.

She pocketed the phone and turned to Iris, her expression shifting into something resembling professionalism or at least, the closest Violet could manage.

- Alright, listen up. Mini-portals pop up, demons crawl out. We go in, crush them, I seal the rift with Shooting Star, we get paid.

- Money we don’t immediately gamble away. – Mavka said from Violet’s shadow.

-…hypothetically.

- So. These demons. What are they like?

- Think Zmey and Mavka, but weaker. Mostly. – she side-eyed her shadow. – Debatable with some.

- Hey!

- Your skills are more than enough for the small fry. I’ll handle the big ones, unless you’re confident. But heads up: no free healers here. Stupid healthcare system. – she grimaced. – I’ll cover you, but try not to get stabbed.

- And what about you?

- Forgot already? I regenerate. Handy, huh?

- I only forgot because I’ve never seen you bleed. Well... almost never.

A flicker of something unreadable passed over Violet’s face before she shrugged.

- Oh, and grab any demon parts you can. Skulls, weapons, some clients pay extra for souvenirs.

- I’ll focus on surviving first.

- What? Scared?

- No. Just stepping into the unknown.

- Welcome to the family business, kid. – Violet smirked.

The two warriors dropped from the rooftop in unison, their descent punctuated by the screech of drawn steel. Iris' blade flashed under the neon lights as it cleaved through the first skeletal demon, its cloak tearing like parchment.

- Alright, Iris. – she landed in a crouch. – Handle the welcoming committee. I'm taking the VIP route. – she jerked her chin toward the pulsating portal.

- Try not to get trapped in there.

Iris moved with lethal precision, her sword tracing silver arcs through the neon gloom. A diagonal slash bisected one attacker. She pivoted to parry a rusted blade, countering with a thrust through an empty eye socket. When two skeletons charged simultaneously, she dropped low and swept her blade in a wide crescent, severing both sets of legs. The ease of combat set her teeth on edge. Her eyes kept darting to the unstable portal, grip tightening on her sword's hilt.

Violet's boots skidded on damp stone as the first skeletal warrior lunged. Her foot met its ribcage with a satisfying crunch.

- Hey, I wanted to try that move! – she looked down at the twitching remains.

She planted one foot on the demon's spine and pushed off, using it as a gruesome skateboard while twin pistols materialized in her hands. The weapons thundered as she spun, each shot striking true.

- Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!

Her aerial somersault ended with a point-blank headshot to another demon. Before the ashes settled.

Violet leapt out of the portal, doing a graceful somersault, slashing the portal out of the air. She turned to Iris.

- So. Bored yet?

- They could at least pretend to put up a fight. – Iris kicked the skull.

- That's my girl. – she turned to the shadows. – Mavka! Cleanup duty.

- Why am I always the pack mule?

- Because someone keeps 'forgetting' to buy storage runes?

- Yes, you!

As the shadow demon gathered trophies, Violet tossed Iris a cracked demonic helm:

- First paycheck. Don't spend it all on... whatever passes for fun here.

Iris rolled her eyes but secured the helm to her belt. Above them, the city's neon glow painted their matching smirks in electric hues.

Chapter Text

Chapter 83 – Old Friends 

The roulette wheel spun with a hypnotic whir, the ivory ball clattering to a stop on black 23. Violet slumped over the table, her chin propped on one hand as the dealer raked in her last chips.

- Wow. – she sighed dramatically. – Lost again. Guess it's time to pay up and slink home.

She patted her pockets once, twice. Her smirk faltered.

- Oops. – she laughed nervously. – Must've put the money in my other pants.

A second round of frantic patting. The two hulking guards flanking her table exchanged glances.

- Hey, I know this sounds pathetic, but I might've... left my wallet at home?

The first guard lunged. Violet backflipped off her stool, her jacket flaring as she narrowly avoided his meaty grasp.

- I'll come back tomorrow! Scout's honor!

She weaved through the casino floor like a greased eel, slipping past waitresses and drunk patrons before bursting through the exit into the neon-lit night.

The door slammed open with enough force to rattle their framed Donte May Cry poster.

- Iris!

Iris jerked awake on the couch, rubbing her eyes as Violet loomed over her.

- What?

- By any chance... did you take my money?

- By any chance yes.

- Give it baaaack~ – she clasped her hand, mock-pleading.

- No. – she rolled over. – You'd just burn it on poker.

Violet's eye twitched. Her voice dropped to a terrifying purr.

- Iris.

- Go. To. Sleep. – she pulled blanket over her head.

Violet threw her head back with a wail.

- Aaaah! Tyranny!

She collapsed onto her floor mattress like a felled tree, starfishing dramatically.

Next morning

The sizzle of eggs and bacon filled the apartment, a rare sound, given Violet's takeout addiction. Iris stood at the stove, her hair still sleep-mussed, when a rustling came from the bedroom.

- Aha! Found it! – Violet said.

Iris turned and froze. Violet posed in the doorway, one hand holding a hat tilted at a very specific jaunty angle. Her outfit consisted of a strategically wrapped black strip covering just enough to avoid indecency charges, a crimson jacket that hung open, because subtlety, fingerless gloves (for edge), boots with too many buckles.

- Well? How do I look? – Violet said striking a pose.

Iris's expression flatlined.

- Like an overpriced prostitute begging for attention.

- Savage! Apocalyptic! Dismal! – Violet gasped clutching her chest.

- Someone's touchy. – Iris turned back to stove.

A beat. Iris sighed.

-...I take it back. I'd rather see you spend money on that than cards.

- You do? I look cool, right?

- Sort of.

- I'm hitting ConComic this year! Been saving this cosplay forever.

- You actually like this world, don't you?

- Kidding? – she grinned. – I love it!

She struck another pose, hat tilted, as Iris facepalmed.

A sharp rap at the door cut through the sound of sizzling instant noodles. Violet paused her game, tilting her head toward the noise.

- Must be sushi. Oh wait. – she shot a glare at Iris. – Someone stole my wallet so I couldn’t order any!

- Could be debt collectors. – Iris said not looking from stove.

- Most likely. – she grinned

She swung the door open and froze. A hawk laguz stood at the stairway. His wings, though neatly folded, carried the faint scent of high-altitude winds and distant battles.

- Mia. It’s been a while.

- Who… are you again? – she squinted. – Though I do see the resemblance.

- It’s Janaff. Though I hear you go by ‘Violet’ now.

- Ah! – she snapped fingers. – King Janaff! You’re old as hell now. Saw you on the news, fancy crown, huh?

- And you haven’t aged a day. Not even a scar.

- What can I say? I’m that—

- Perfect. – Iris finished. – You must be the hawk laguz.

- And you are? – Janaff turned to her.

- Iris. This disaster’s daughter.

- Didn’t realize she’d had children.

- She doesn’t. I’m adopted.

Janaff’s gaze flicked between them before landing on Violet’s outfit, a strategically wrapped black strip and fingerless gloves that left little to the imagination.

- By the goddess, what are you wearing?

- Cosplay! Like it? – she struck a pose.

- Hell no.

- It’s better than her blowing rent money at the casino. – Iris sighed.

- That’s her way of saying she loves it. – Violet whispered to Janaff.

- Whatever. – Iris waved off.

- So, Your Majesty, what brings you to our humble dump?

- Heard about you on the news. Some lunatic in an orange jacket jumping rooftops every night.

- Rude! That’s heroic demon hunting!

- Hunting your own kind?

- Double rude! I’m still human. Just got my own quirks. – she smirked.

Janaff chuckled, the sound like wind through canyon rocks.

- Same old Mia. Want to grab a drink in Crimea while I’m here?

- Absolutely! But someone. – she eyed Iris. – Needs to return my wallet first.

- I’m coming with you.

- Perfect. – Janaff smirked.

Later in the bar

- I can't believe you're only forty. – Janaff blinked.

- Eh, maybe forty-one? – she wiped her mouth. – Forty-two? Stopped counting when I realized I'd be twenty-four forever. – she flicked her hair dramatically. – Perks of demonic perfection! Or something like that.

- And you? – Janaff turned to Iris. – Same... condition?

- No. – Iris sipped her water. – I'm just eighteen.

Violet's grin faltered. She traced the rim of her glass.

- Yeah, I get the looks, but the drawbacks suck. Which is why—

-…we've had this conversation eighty-two times. – Iris cut in. – I don't have a demonic form. I'll be fine.

- You counted?!

- Of course.

- Definitely smarter than you. – Janaff laughed. – Glad she's not blood-related.

- Maybe too smart...

Janaff leaned forward, wings rustling.

- Speaking of smarts. Saw your ratings on the Dark Knight app. Five stars for 'efficiency,' one star for 'professionalism.' – he eyed her tattered cosplay jacket. – Why do you live like a broke college student?

- Gotta budget for two now. – she sighed.

- Lie. – Iris said flatly.

- Okay, fine. There's important gear I—

- Lie.

- I need those limited-edition Donte figurines—

- Lie.

- I didn't even finish that one!

Janaff's laughter drew glances from nearby patrons.

- How about you come work in Phoenicis. We pay fairly well to beorc.

Violet's gaze drifted to the window, where neon lights reflected in her eyes like distant stars.

- Nah. This dumpy city? It's home now.

Janaff nodded, tossing a gold coin on the table.

- Figured you'd say that. Drinks are on me.

As he stood, Violet saluted him with her empty glass.

- Thanks, Your Kingliness.

- That's not a word. – Iris raised an eyebrow.

- It is now. – Violet grinned.

Chapter Text

Chapter 84 – The World of Echoes

Violet stood spread-eagled in front of a wheezing fan, clad only in sweat-drenched underwear, belting out lyrics with theatrical fervor:

FORSAKENED, I AM AWAKENED!

A PHOENIX'S ASH IN DARK DIVIIIIINE—

- Ugh. – Iris buried her face in a pillow. – It's 2 PM. I'm being cooked alive and subjected to this?

- Then join me! – Violet grinned, arms wide. – Together we can become... THE STORM THAT IS APPROACHIIIING!

- Zmey. – Iris pressed the pillow harder. – Please. Silence her.

- That I cannot do, Lady Iris.

- This weekend sucks. – Iris grabbed the wallet – I'm getting ice cream.

- Bring me some!

- I will.

Ten minutes later

The two sat cross-legged on the floor, ice cream dripping down their wrists in the oppressive heat. Iris had opted for a light linen shirt; Violet remained gloriously half-dressed.

- This is unbearable. – Iris said fanning herself.

- Welcome to Crimea, baby.

Then. A voice rippled appeared in their heads.

- I see you both are free now. I have a job for you, Violet

- Khronos! Buddy! Portal problem or social call?

- The portals that are opening in this world. For some reasons they now have open routes to not just one world, Yav', but others too...this is an error.

- Or a glitch

- You know that word now? Good. It will be easier to explain then. For some reason there's a glitch in a system. We don't know the answer, but we know a simple solution. Brute force.

- Cool, I'm in. But wait, actually no. What about the time? When we will come back, how much time will pass here? 2 minutes? 2 months? Or 10 years?

- These portals are unique is that they're like doors to the other realms. Time passes the same way it does in Telius. And that is a problem...If we don't act now, Tellius you know might as well disappear over time, turned to chaos by the issues these portals will cause. For now, there are two portals in Telius. You can go through one, then after you finish go to the second one.

- Why not bring Iris for the second portal?

- I thought she'd  want to stay by your side. So I thought you both can go through one portal at a time.

- It's fine. I can go through the second portal. Just tell me what to do.

- Just prevent the disaster. You could also just close these portals by Violet's Shooting Star, but that would mean we'd have to send other 'traveller' to this place. I thought it would be--

- More efficient if you asked us. I'll help.

- Now that you have phones, I'll send you geolocation of these places. Don't ask how. We have our methods.

Violet sprang to her feet, nearly tripping on a discarded bra.

- Great! Now shal we—

- Suit yourself first.

Violet looked down on her underwear:

- Ah, right!

A jagged rift tears through the air, crackling with static-like energy. Violet leans against a lamppost, chewing gum and spinning one of her Donte-inspired pistols. Iris stands rigidly nearby, adjusting her fingerless gloves. The portal hums with distorted voices, like a corrupted radio broadcast.

- Okay, Iris. World-hopping 101: Be attentive. Y’know, like when you’re trying to snipe that last slice of pizza before I do. Once you’ve averted disaster *boom!* Khronos’ll hit you with the ol’ ding-ding-ding. Congrats, you’ve accomplished what you came for!

- “How do I know what disaster to avert?

- You don’t! – she shrugged. – Just follow your heart, kiddo. Or your sword. Or Zmey’s grumbling. Honestly, it’s kinda vibes-based. But hey, you could chill in that world forever. Build a farm. Adopt a pet demon. Though I’m pretty sure you don’t wanna.

- No. I don’t.

- Great! Rule number two—

- Don’t die. Yes. That’s it? Two rules?

- Excuse you! I’ve got hundreds of rules. Rule 303: Always bet on black. Rule 404: Never trust a guy named after a month. But today? – she flicks Iris’s forehead lightly. – Two’s enough. You’re smart. Ish.

Iris sighs, turning toward the portal. Her reflection wavers in the static.

- Once you’re done, come back. I’ll be here… or you’ll be here waiting for me. Depends who’s faster. Then. – she pats the hilt of Shooting Star. – I’ll shut this glitchy eyesore down. Easy-peasy.

- Got it.

She steps toward the portal. Violet hesitates, then grabs her wrist.

- Hey. If you meet any hot single dads in armor… call me.

- You’re immortal, not desperate.

- Says the girl dressed like a Final Phantasy villain. Go on, before I change my mind and race you! Good luck!

Iris steps through. The portal ripples, swallowing her whole.

Before her a smoke-choked battlefield. Two armies clash near a crumbling bridge. Iris strides through the fray, her boots crunching gravel as she sees another army on her side of the bridge rush to encounter the rest. She scans the battlefield with the detached focus of a surgeon. Suddenly a green-haired boy notices her:

- Hi! Who are you?! – he shouted.

- Need a hand? – Iris said not breaking the stride.

- Yes, we certainly do, but who are you? – he paused.

- Call me Iris. – she tilted her head. – You don’t look like a villain. I’d say that with… 97.4% certainty. I want to help.

- We’re glad to have you! – his smile was soft. – I’m Alm. See that blonde knight across the bridge? Don’t touch him or his men, they’re allies now.

-…the rest?

- Well, enemies.

- Fine. – she noddedI’ll go then.

She breaks into a sprint, sword unsheathed. A paladin charges her, spear leveled, Iris ducks, her blade slicing upward to cleave the horse’s reins. The mount rears, throwing its rider. Before he hits the ground, she stabs through his breastplate. No flourish. No wasted motion.

Three more paladins circle her. The first lunges. She sidesteps, parrying his spear into the second rider’s throat. The third swings a javelin, Iris backflips onto his horse’s saddle, stabbing downward through the gap in his helmet.

The final paladin flees. She hurls her sword like a javelin, impaling him mid-retreat.

- So, you’re the one butchering my men?! – the captain roared, spear in his hand. – Unforgivable!

He charges, his spearhead glinting. Iris doesn’t flinch. At the last second, she pivots, his strike gouges the earth where she stood.

Iris met his eyes for the first time. Her glare is glacial, a silent dare. She adopts Violet’s taunting stance: one hand on her hip, sword lazily trailing in the dirt.

- You dare mock me?! I’ll carve that smirk off your—

She moves. A single step forward, sword arcing upward. The blade slips between his ribs, piercing his heart. Jerome collapses, his fury frozen mid-snarl.

Iris wiped the blood off her cheek.

- Wow! – Alm sheathed his sword. – That was incredible! You cut through them like… like a blizzard!

- I did what I had to. Nothing more.

Alm’s allies murmur in awe. Iris ignores them, scanning the horizon for the portal’s telltale static.

- Still, we’re grateful. Mind joining our ranks? We could use your skill.

- This is why I’m here. – she said flatly.

- Really? – he blinked. – I didn’t know anyone else volunteered.

- Of course you didn’t. I just appeared.

A blonde man, whom Alm warned about, approached, his armor dented but his posture regal.

- You must be Alm. I am Zeke. Let me thank you again for saving Tatiana.

- We were happy to help. – Alm nodded. – I heard you oppose this war. Will you lend us your strength?

-...I cannot answer here. There’s a village ahead. I’ll await you there.

Zeke leaves. Iris looks at him, then turns to Alm, who was a bit saddened.

- Ah…! – he came to his senses. – Sorry, everyone. Let’s move to the village!

Iris followed silently, lagging behind the others. Alm falls into step beside her, lowering his voice.

- Where do you come from? A nearby village? You don’t sound Rigelian…

- Don’t worry yourself. – she said flatly. – It doesn’t matter.

- But—

- I’m here to help. That’s the only thing that matters.

Chapter 84x – Faye and Silque

The village campfire crackles, casting long shadows. Iris sits alone on a log, staring into the flames. Her posture is rigid, her gloved hands clasped tightly. Faye hovers nearby, twisting her skirt before sitting hesitantly to Iris’s left. Iris doesn’t turn.

- You must be Faye. – she said flatly.

- Getting familiar with everyone already?

- I just happen to remember you all. – she didn’t turn.

- Haha! Yeah…

Silence stretches. The fire pops. Faye fidgets.

- You need something? – Iris asked.

- I was just… watching how you interact with Alm, and—

- Just business. – she cut her off. – Don’t worry.

- You’re not tricking me. – Faye leaned in. – The way you looked at him. That… faint smile.

Iris’s jaw tightens.

- Yeah. He’s not a bad guy. – Iris said toneless.

- I can see right through you! – Faye raised her voice. – You’re trying to swing him away from me!

- Foolishness.

- What?!

Iris turns. Her glare is a blade, unblinking, glacial. Faye recoils as if struck.

- I said foolishness. I don’t care about him. Just mission.

- You don’t care?! – her voice trembled. – How dare—

- Isn’t that what you wanted?

Faye’s breath hitches. Tears well. She scrambles to her feet, nearly tripping over the log.

- Y-Yes, but—

- Then lay off me.

Faye flees, her footsteps fading into the night. Iris doesn’t watch her go. The fire dims, shadows swallowing her profile. Somewhere, an owl hoots.

Next morning

Sunlight filters through the trees as the camp stirs. Iris stands at the edge of the village, sharpening her sword with methodical strokes. Silque approaches, her cleric robes rustling softly. Iris doesn’t pause her task.

- You must be Iris. – Silque said warmly. – It’s nice to meet you.

- Same.

Silque hesitates, then presses on, her voice gentle but probing.

- I… heard Faye sobbing last night. What happened between you?

- She thought I was flirting with your commander. – she said flatly. – I told her to lay off me. She fled.

Silque’s smile faltered. She studied Iris’s impassive face, searching for cracks.

- I see…

- Is something wrong?

- No. It’s just… forgive me, but I think you should talk to her.

- ‘Should’?

- Yes. – Silque nodded. – It was a misunderstanding, wasn’t it?

Iris sheathed her sword with a sharp click. Her glare could freeze lava, but Silque held her ground.

- It was. Fine. I’ll try. If you want me to.

- Oh, that’s great! And… well, there aren’t many women in this army. We ought to stick together, don’t you think?

Iris’s eyes narrow. For a moment, she looked almost… conflicted. Then she glances at Silque’s earnest expression and exhales sharply.

- I don’t—… Fine. I’ll try to stick with you. …if you want me to.

- Wonderful! I’ll look forward to our next battles.

Chapter Text

Chapter 85 – Dragons vs Dragon

Few days passed. Alm and his forces continued to pick more battles as they proceeded to Rigel castle. The air reeked of rot and sulfur. Necrodragons shrieked overhead, their skeletal wings blotting out the sun. Alm’s army advanced cautiously, weapons trembling. Iris lingers at the rear, eyes narrowed at the undead horde.

- Aren’t these your kind? – Iris murmured.

- Lady Iris, they are not of my world, so no.

- But you want to have fun? To show you’re better?

- I must confess...It had been a long time since you let me loose. I miss battling

- Then go. – she glanced at Alm. – While none are watching. But return unnoticeably.

Zmey appeared from her body in an ash and soared upward. Gray gaped, elbow jabbing Tobin.

- Oi! There’s another—?!

- Since when do dragons have three heads?!

Zmey ignored them, hurtling toward the necrodragons. His jaws snaped shut on a winged corpse, crushing bone to dust. Meanwhile, a necrodragon dove at Iris. She lept, stomping its skull into the mud.

-…gross. – she stared at her boot, caked in black ichor.

Her sword flashed. The dragon’s head rolls. Another beast charged Alm, Gray, and Tobin. They braced, but a scream pierces the chaos. Faye stumbles, a necrodragon lunging for her.

- A-Alm…! – Faye yelled terrified.

- FAYE—!

Iris materialized between them, blade braced behind her back. The dragon’s fangs screeched against steel. She locks eyes with Faye, trembling in the dirt.

- Don’t piss yourself.

She shoves the beast back, decapitating it mid-roar. Alm skids to a halt, breathless.

- Thank you, Iris! Let’s move. Those dragons are tearing each other apart!

The group retreats. Iris trailed behind, watching Zmey’s shadowy form shred the last necrodragon. As Alm’s army exits the maw, Zmey dives back into her, unnoticed.

- Did you have fun? – Iris murmured.

- I…will confess it was a pleasure. – the voice in her head said.

- Good. – faint but visible smile was curved on her lips.

Later at the camp

The campfire crackled, its light dancing across Iris’s impassive face. Silque sat beside her, close enough to share warmth but far enough to respect her space. Iris stared into the flames, her sword laid across her lap like a barrier.

- I saw what you did today. – Silque said softly. – That was… very brave.

- Didn’t want to listen to your sobbing later.

Silque’s smile didn’t waver. She poked the fire with a stick, sending sparks spiraling upward.

- Faye might not say it, but she’s grateful. Truly.

- Doesn’t matter.

- Thought you might say that.

A log collapsed in the fire. Iris’s hands still. Silque seized the silence.

- Where do you come from, Iris? Do you have family waiting for you?

-…my mother. – she said after a beat. – Perhaps.

- Tell me about her! – she leaned in.

- Found me when I was seven. Took me in. I’ve… admired her since.

- Found you? She isn’t your birth mother?

- No. – she shook her head. – Mine died when I was two. Barely remember them.

Silque’s gaze drifts to the stars, her voice feather-light.

- My parents abandoned me. I found solace in Mila. Her teachings guided me. – she glanced at Iris. – Not the same… but similar, huh?

Iris met her eyes. For a moment, the fire reflects something fragile in her stare, recognition?

- Yes. Perhaps.

Silque grined, shifting the mood.

- What about hobbies? Do you… knit? Garden? Collect exotic swords?

- Boring things. Reading. Old books. You’ll regret asking.

- That’s lovely! I’d love to hear about them!

Iris stared, then huffs a breath, the ghost of a laugh.

-…you choose the topic. – a faint smile appeared on her face.

Chapter Text

Chapter 86 – The Weight of Killing Your Own

In a few more days they reached the castle. Alm’s army halted at the bridge leading to the fortress, their weapons trembling in hands slick with sweat. Emperor Rudolf stood motionless atop the battlements, his silhouette a shadow against the crimson sunset.

- That’s Emperor Rudolf… This is… strange. I should hate him. He’s caused so much suffering. But… – Alm clutched his chest, brow furrowed. – …Why does he feel… familiar?

- Alm! – Gray said, placing hand on Alm’s shoulder. – Snap out of it, will ya?! We’re at Rigel Castle’s doorstep, buddy! Focus! We didn’t drag our sorry carcasses this far to choke now!

- R-right. Sorry, Gray. Everyone, move out!

Iris lingered at the rear, her sword glinting dully at her hip. Her gaze flicked to Rudolf, then Alm. Some click in her chest.

-…is this the time? – she said to herself.

She strode forward to Alm’s side.

- Alm. I’ll go with you. This isn’t a request.

- Iris? Why the urgency?

- A feeling. – she said flatly. – I’ll protect you in this battle.

- Be my guest! – he nodded.

The army advanced onto the narrow bridge. Arrows whistled down like lethal rain. Soldiers ducked behind shields, but Iris stood rigid, her sheath raised.

- Look out, everyone! – Alm shouted.

Iris’s sheath flashed deflecting arrows with mechanical precision. Each clang reverberated like a death knell. Alm, Zeke, Gray, and Kliff pressed forward, their boots pounding against stone. Behind them, Iris didn’t break a stride, still reflecting the arrows.

- How’s she not dead?! – Gray glanced back.

- Ask her after we survive. – Kliff said dryly.

The paladins surged forward. Iris melted into the fray, her blade a silver streak. She moved with chilling efficiency. No flourish, no wasted breath. Each strike is surgical: a slash to the ribs here, a slit throat there. Bodies crumple in her wake, her eyes as hollow as the clatter of falling steel.

A spear arced toward Alm’s blind spot. Iris pivoted, her sword biting into the attacker’s side before he could strike. She didn’t acknowledge Alm’s gratitude, already turning to the next threat.

Emperor Rudolf descended, his spear gleaming with lethal intent. He fixed Iris in his sights, charging with a roar that shakes the battlefield.

- Out of my way, girl!

Iris braced, sheath raised. The spear collided with a deafening clang, sparks erupting as metal grinds against metal. Her boots skidded backward, but she held firm, teeth bared in a silent snarl.

- I’ll take him! – Alm lunged. – Cover me!

Iris nodded. She felt back, cutting down any soldier who dared to approach Alm. Rudolf shifted his focus, meeting Alm’s strikes with defensive precision, blocking, parrying, but never retaliating.

- What’s your game?! Fight me!

Rudolf’s spear trembled under Alm’s assault, his movements deliberate, almost… rehearsed. With a final clash, the emperor staggered, his knees buckling.

- You’ve… done well… I’m… proud… my son. – Rudolf gasped, each word a labour.

-…what? – Alm staggered back.

-  knew… I was right… to entrust you… to Mycen…

- Mycen?! – Alm kneeled, gripping Rudolf’s pauldron. – What are you—?!

- Your name… Albein Alm Rudolf… My blood… my son…

- Lies! Why—?!

- No time… Take the Falchion… Destroy Duma… Please…

- WAIT! Father—?!

Rudolf’s hand fell limp. Alm collapsed, his wail tearing through the air, a raw, guttural sound of grief and guilt. Iris sheathed her sword with a soft click. Still a stoic face, no emotion.

She didn’t approach. Didn’t speak. She simply watched, the wind whipping her coat as Alm’s allies hovered helplessly nearby.

- Should we… say somethin’? – Gray murmured.

- Not yet. – Kliff replied.

Iris stands apart, her back rigid, her shadow stretching long in the setting sun. For the first time, her icy composure feels less like armor… and more like a cage.

Chapter Text

Chapter 87 – Choices Not Like Her Mother’s

Inside Rigel Castle, torchlight flickered across cold stone walls. Alm reunited with Mycen, their voices echoing in the vaulted chamber. Iris lingered in the shadows, her expression unreadable. A familiar voice hummed in her mind.

- Mission complete. Well done.

- I know.

- Efficient as ever. Your mother would’ve lingered, savored the ‘hero’ role.

- Can I return now?

- Impatient? Violet stayed until journeys ended, even after her duty.

A pause.

- They’ll survive?

- Their fate is sealed. Victory awaits… without you.

- Good. – she turned away.

- No farewells? How… unlike Violet.

Iris hesitated, then strode toward Alm, her boots clicking sharply against the stone.

- Alm. I’m leaving.

- Now?! We face Duma! We need you!

- You’ll win without me.

- Why? – he stepped closer. – What’s wrong?

Iris exhaled.

- I’m from another world. Came to prevent disaster. Done.

- Another… world?

- Forget me. Focus on your father’s wishes.

- Wait—! – he grabbed her arm.

She froze, eyes narrowing. Alm released her, sheepish but earnest.

- At least let me thank you. You protected me when it mattered. We… I owe you.

- Unnecessary.

- Hah! – he grinned weakly. – Knew that ‘feeling’ wasn’t just luck. Will we meet again?

- Never.

- Then… goodbye, Iris.

- Goodbye, Alm.

The battlefield where she started was now silent, the portal is still there. Zmey’s voice in her head.

- Lady Iris. You hesitate.

-…no.

- Khronos spoke of Lady Violet. Does her choice trouble you?

- She stays. Why?

- Would you linger?

- No reason to. But Mother. She is incredible, isn’t she?

- You undervalue yourself. Lady Violet is formidable… but you are my charge.

Iris paused, a rare smirk tugging her lips.

- Changing loyalties? And I thought you were only loyal to my mother.

-…not anymore I fear.

-…thanks. – she said after a beat. – Let’s go.

She stepped into the portal, her silhouette dissolving into static. The portal spats Iris out into a parking lot choked with police tape and gawking crowds. Camera flashed pop like starbursts, reporters shouted over each other, and an officer barked into a megaphone:

- Stay back! This is a—

Iris strode through the chaos, untouched. No Violet. Just a bench by a bus stop with fallen “Portal Danger: Keep Out!” sign near it. She kicked the sign aside and sat.

- At least her wallet’s still here. No need to starve.

- Lady Iris. Even for you, this is… petty. – Zmey said in her head.

- Her fault. – she leaned and closed her eyes.

Chapter Text

Chapter 88 – The World of Blazing

A dimly lit alley, neon signs flickering overhead. A corrupted portal swirled nearby, its edges crackling with unstable energy. Violet slouched against a graffiti-covered wall, her Donte-inspired red coat clashing with the grime. Mavka’s shadow pulsed impatiently at her feet.

- Asino Three Axes, huh? Perfect spot, no debts there… if I had my damn wallet.

- Serves you right, gambler. Now move. That portal’s decaying faster than your self-control.

Violet kicked a crushed soda can toward the rift. It disintegrated mid-air.

- Someone’s cranky! – she grinned. – Miss my sparkling company?

- I miss productivity. Go.

The portal hums, casting jagged violet light across the alley. Violet cracks her neck.

- Ready, Mav?

- Must you ask every time? I’m bound to you. Not like I have a choice.

- Liar! I caught you soloing that demon pack last week!

- Because someone binge-played Donte May Cry for 72 hours! I handle real work.

- Ultimate Dante Must Die mode isn’t a joke! It’s… educational.

A beat.

- She’ll be fine. Right? – Mavka said softer.

- Pfft. – she grinned. – I cleared these worlds no problem. And she’s stronger than me too. She’s got my style. And my sword… and my wallet.

- Your arrogance, too.

- C’mon, sourpuss! Demons to slay, loot to swipe!

The portal swallowed them as they walked inside.

A moonlit medieval castle, its stone walls weathered and ivy-choked. The air hummed with ancient magic, and the scent of damp moss clings to the silence. Violet falls out of the portal and lands in a crouch with one arm up.

- Hell yeah! Nailed the dismount!

- Thrilling. – Mavka said in a mocking tone.

Violet scanned the courtyard. The castle loomed ahead, its windows dark. A lone owl hooted in the distance.

- Gut says loot’s in there. C’mon! – she pointed at the castle.

- Last time your ‘gut’ led us to a casino.

- No slots in a fantasyland, promise! – she grinned.

The grand hall was deserted. Mavka slithered along the ceiling, scanning for threats.

- Coast clear? – Violet whispered.

- If you’d stop crunching like a goblin with chips—

Violet froze. She saw four people in the distance. She pressed against a wall.

- Hello, Jaffar. – a woman with dark blue hair said. – Finished already? Such magnificent skill. Is this why they call you the Angel of Death? Sonia’s worries were… unfounded.

- It’s my fault! – a green haired girl said. – The prince—I couldn’t…

- Nino. Silence. – the man in the assassin’s robes said.

Violet raised an eyebrow, fingers twitching toward Shooting Star. Mavka hisses a warning.

- Not our mission, right?

- Yeah, but drama.

- Why is the girl alive? Sonia ordered her disposed of—

- No!!

- Speak again. I dare you.

Ursula’s laugh echoed, brittle and cruel.

- Betraying Nergal for this rat? How… human of you. Maxime!

- Yes, Lady Ursula!

- Kill the prince. Kill the traitors. Now.

Nino bolted toward Violet’s hiding spot. Jaffar vanished into the shadows. Maxime’s soldiers charged.

The girl ran into a dead end. She turned around, the mage had almost caught up to her.

- Watch this. – Violet whispered to Mavka.

Violet leaps, shattering the stained glass with a flying kick. Mid-air, she taps her phone— “BERRY DELIGHT” blares at full volume.

I AM THE STORM THAT IS APPROACHING—

Glass shards rained down. Violet’s sword flashed, bisecting the mage’s tome. She landed in a crouch, backlit by moonlight, as the final shards clink to the floor. She stood up and turned around slowly, dramatically. Nino stared, frozen.

- Hiya, Nino! Overheard your drama. Need a hand? Duh.

- W-who are you?! – the girl trembled.

- Violet. Pro demon-slayer, part-time babysitter. Now—

Boots thundered down the hall. Violet cocked her head, listening.

- Someone's here. ...Well, besides your former allies. Killing a Prince, huh?

- I…

- Save it. We'll go at the entrance, maybe those are guards finally showing up. – she turned around.

Nino grabs her sleeve desperately.

- Wait! Jaffar’s still in there! I have to help him!

- Ugh, fine. I’ll check on Mr. Edgelord. You? Chill with the guards.

She shoved Nino behind her.

- I’ll lead you to them. Now, let’s go.

The castle entrance swarmed with soldiers. A bulky blue haired man stood at the forefront, axe slung over his shoulder, glowering as Violet dragged Nino toward them.

- You! Who the hell are you? Another assassin?

- Nah, but she’s tangled in that mess. – she shoved Nino forward. – You’re the ‘good guys,’ right? Take her. I’ve got edgelords to babysit.

- You expect me to believe you’re not here to kill the prince?

- Politics? Pass. Keep the kid safe, will ya? Her friend’s got a death wish.

Before Hector can retort, Violet vanishes into a shadowed alcove. Nino stumbles toward the soldiers, wide-eyed.

- Sh-she’s telling the truth! Jaffar’s in trouble—!

- Tch. Fine. Oswin! Secure the girl!

Violet sliped into a pitch-black corridor, the clamor of battle muffled. Her eyes ignited with an eerie blue glow as she unholsters twin pistols.

- Mav! Time to cut loose.

- Restraints?

- None.

- Try not to embarrass us.

The shadow demon detached, morphing into a towering specter of claws and teeth. Violet spins her pistols, grinning as Mavka surges ahead.

- Let’s rock.

Black Fang assassins flood the corridor, swordsmen, mages, archers. Violet dances into the fray, pistols barking. A swordsman charged. Violet sidestepped, firing two rounds into his knees. He crumpled, howling. An archer nocked an arrow. She pirouetted, a bullet shattering his bowstring mid-draw.

Slide. Click. Bang.

Violet ducked behind a pillar, ejecting spent magazines. Mavka teared through three axemen, buying her seconds.

She reloaded, smirking at a mage charging a fire spell:

- Psst. Aim higher.

BANG

A mercenary lunged. Violet backflipped, firing upward. The shot ricochets off a chandelier chain, dropping the fixture onto two assassins.

Mavka shredded armour knights, snarling:

- Left flank!

Six swordsmen encircled Violet. She slid low, emptying her clip, kneecaps, elbows, shoulders. They dropped like puppets.

A mage hurled lightning. She tossed a pistol, caught it mid-air cocked, and fired. The bullet stroke through his tome, right in the heart.

- Phew, that was pretty cool! Let’s move on!

Jaffar stood amidst fallen Black Fang assassins, daggers dripping blood. More enemies approached, axe-wielders with Swordreavers glinting in the dim light. Jaffar's breath was ragged, but his grip on his blades didn't waver.

Then. BANG. BANG.

Two shots rang out. The axe-wielders collapsed, holes smoking in their skulls.

- Hello, Mr. Personality. – Violet smirked, pistols up.

Jaffar didn’t respond

- Yeah, yeah. – she waved. – Figured you were the strong, silent type from the start.

A beat. Jaffar finally glances at her, cold, assessing.

-  know, you remind me of someone I know. And your little green-haired friend? Same feeling. It’s like you two had a baby. But nah-uh. I’m calling the police if that’s the case.

-...who are—

- Finally speak! What does it matter? I saved your skin. Now you owe me. So do me a favor, go back to your friend. Mommy’s gotta clean up the mess.

Jaffar didn’t move.

- What? Can’t move ‘cause of my beauty? – she flipped her hair dramatically. – Sorry, sweetheart. I’m occupied. Try again in, oh… a hundred years?

Silence.

- Fine. Suit yourself. – she rolled her eyes.

Violet strides forward, pistols raised, her boots crunching over shattered weapons and spent bullet casings. Mavka’s shadow slithered along the walls, a predator unseen.

First Target. A swordmaster lunged*bang*a bullet between his eyes before he completed his step. An archer drew back his bow*bang*his arrow snapped as the shot shattered his collarbone. A mage chanted*bang*the spell died in his throat.

Mavka weaved through the shadows, her form flickering like living darkness. Black tendrils speared through unsuspecting enemies, impaling a mercenary mid-swing, dragging a shaman into the floor.

- You’re hogging the fun.

- You’re wasting bullets.

A sudden rush of steel, a paladin in blackened armor charged from the shadows, speared aimed at Violet’s spine. She pivoted, the spear’s tip grazing her coat as she backfliped onto a fallen pillar.

- I am—

BANG.

A single shot. The paladin’s helmet jerked back, a neat hole between his eyes. His body slumped, crashing to the stone floor.

- Honestly, I wouldn’t care much.

- And here I thought you at least pretended to care about villain monologues.

- That’s no Cerberus or Beowulf. – she shrugged. – Probably just some knight-turned-mercenary with a tragic backstory. Boring.

Silence settled over the hallway. The last echoes of gunfire faded. Violet scanned the carnage, bodies strewn about, shadows pooling where Mavka had struck.

- Oops. Looks like we took all the fun.

- You call this fun?

- Better than babysitting. – she grinned. – C’mon, let’s go check on that group.

The first light of dawn spilled across the bloodstained cobblestones. Hector’s forces stood in formation, weapons still drawn, as Violet strolled up with the swagger of someone who just single-handedly cleared a dungeon.

- Hey there, fellas! – she grinned. – What’s cookin’?

Hector turned, his axe resting on his shoulder, and eyed her with a mix of wariness and grudging respect.

- You must be the girl from before.

- The one and only! – she spread her arms. – In full glory, baby!

A few soldiers muttered among themselves. Hector ignored them, crossing his arms.

- We heard from Nino. You helped a lot. The prince isn’t dead, and that’s enough for now. – he scowled. – Though I wish you’d taken care of Jaffar while you were at it.

- Mr. Personality? Nah, Nino asked me to help him. Speaking of, where is she?

- She went on ahead. – he studied her for a moment. – Your name is…?

- Violet! Demon-slaying extraordinaire, part-time babysitter, full-time badass.

Hector barked out a laugh.

- Violet. Nice to meet you.

She straightened, holstering her pistols with a flourish.

- I’ve been told my mission here’s over, but. – she shrugged. – sEh, why not stick around a little longer? You guys seem like fun.

Hector grinned, hefting his axe.

- Good. Then follow me.

Chapter Text

Chapter 89 – Cog of Destiny

The battlefield sprawled before the sealed shrine. Hector’s army stood at the edge of the enemy’s defenses, a sea of armored knights, mages, and skilled mercenaries. Violet cracked her knuckles, her eyes glowing faintly blue as she scanned the horde.

- We’re not far from the shrine now. – Hector said gritting his teeth. – But Nergal’s defenses… they’re thicker than I expected.

- No problem, chief. – Violet grinned. – I’m here. I’ll break through it all with no sweat.”

- Confident, aren’t you? – he raised his eyebrow.

- Please! I’m un-de-fea-ta-ble. You handle flanking or whatever, I’ll smash their center.

- Letting one person take on their main force? Feels… dishonorable.

- Hey, I’ve mocked allies way tougher than you. Relax, tough guy, I’m just making your job easier. No leashes needed.

- A victory without a fight? – he smirked. – Hard to accept… but it’s not like I can stop you.

- Glad that big head’s got some smarts. Ready?

- Just leave us something to do.

- No promises… but I’ll try. – she winked.

One moment Hector saw her running - then blink - she's gone. Only a violent gust of wind remains, kicking up dust where she stood.

First knight never saw it coming. Violet materialized mid-air, both legs extended in a flying kick that impacts his chestplate with a deafening CLANG. The knight rocketted backward, smashing into the mountainside hard enough to crack stone.

Violet landed, drew her pistols in one fluid motion, and used the next knight's shoulder as a springboard. As she pushed off, she pressed a barrel against his visor *bang* the muzzle flash illuminated his crumpling helmet from within.

Already airborne, she fired mid-leap at the next target. The bullet punched through his visor just as her boots left the previous knight's shoulders.

A dozen light mages unleashed Shine spells in panicked unison. Violet landed in a crouch - beams of light scorched the air where she stood milliseconds ago. Without standing, she raised both pistols and fires from 10 meters out. Bang, a mage's knee explodes. Bang, another collapses screaming. Bang, a third drops as his kneecap shatters

- Mav, it's your turn.

Mavka peeled from Violet's shadow, materializing as a perfect dark replica wielding a shadowy Shooting Star sword. The demon surged forward. She beheaded an archer mid-draw, impaled a soldier through the chest, carved through three men with one horizontal slash.

Meanwhile Violet backflipped up the mountainside in two bounds. At the peak, she divebombed a Hero below - her boot planted between his shoulder blades, driving him face-first into the dirt with enough force to crater the ground. She lifted her head with a smirk:

- Let's rock.

Two light mages turned to flee. Bang bang. Both dropped with holes in their backs. Click. Clack. She reloaded mid-stride, then spins left *bang* a soldier drops, pivots right *bang* an archer falls, ducks a spear thrust *bang* the spearman collapses.

Silence.

- That wasn't so bad. Wish I looked half as cool as Donte though.

The mounted warriors charged, Elfire tomes in their hands. A blink. Violet was already before the lead rider. The Valkyrie barely registered Violet’s smirk before a bullet punched through her palm, sending her tumbling from the saddle.

Violet planted a boot on the panicked horse’s flank and launcheed skyward, pistols extended in a cruciform stance. Bang-Bang-Bang-Bang, two riders dropped mid-rein-grab. Bang-Bang-Bang-Bang, two more slumped sideways, tomes slipping from limp fingers.

Click-Clack. She reloaded mid-somersault, landing as a fresh wave of enemies spilled from the forts.

A Hero rushed at her, sword raised, Violet lunged low and pistol-whips him across the jaw. Bone cracked, he crumpled like a sack of grain.

The shadow surged back to Violet’s feet, then erupted in a circle of black spikes, impaling six surrounding soldiers through chests, thighs, and throats. Their choked gasps harmonized with the drip-drip of blood on steel.

Silence. The battlefield was a graveyard. Only one enemy remained at the shrine. Violet eyed the distant shrine, then shrugged.

- Hector said to leave some. One’s… generous.

Without looking, she raised a pistol over her shoulder and fires backward.

BANG.

The bandit dropped face-first into the dirt.

- Now there’s definitely one.

The battlefield lied eerily quiet, strewn with fallen enemies. Violet lounged on the grass, arms pillowing her head, eyes shut against the sun. The wind carried the metallic tang of blood and gunpowder.

Hector’s boots stopped beside her. A long silence stretche.

- You’re joking… right? – his voice was flat.

- No others in sight. – Eliwood looked around. – Only Lloyd remains at the shrine.

- Yeah, you said to leave some fun. – Violet said not opening her eyes. – One’s enough, yeah?

A beat. Then Hector suddenly laughed:

- Hah! I almost like you.

- I like your attitude. – Violet smirked. – But c’mon, go claim your prize.

She flapped a dismissive hand toward the shrine.

- Next time, leave two. Then I’d definitely like you.

He signaled his troops forward. The distant clang of steel echoes from the shrine, brief, decisive. Moments later, Hector’s group returned, weapons bloodied but unharmed.

Chapter 89x – Nino

Ostia Castle’s guest chambers. Violet sprawled on a velvet couch, one leg dangling over the armrest, staring at the ceiling like it held the secrets of the universe. Mavka’s shadow pooled beneath her, shifting irritably.

- You know, Mav… that Nino kid. – Violet said abrubtly. – She reminds me of someone.

- Yeah. Your weepy-ass daughter who barely let you leave home, then chased you across worlds only to risk dying before reaching her thirties. Her?

- Hey! Iris isn’t that weepy.

A beat. Mavka’s shadow went unnaturally still.

-…don’t tell me.

- Why not pay Nino a visit? – Violet grinned.

- Not again. When will you stop collecting troubled minors like stray cats? First Bernadetta, then Iris, now Nino?

- Heh. What can I say? I’m just that—

- Perfect?

- Caring. I was gonna say caring.

- Sure. And I’ll get front-row seats to you emotionally scarring another child.

- When did I ever—?

- Oh, yeah, that one time when you scared off Bernadetta by simply jumping over her dormitory. Or when you left Iris, leaving her broken. But sure. They’re fine.

- Pfft. They’re great now! C’mon. – she stood up.

-…lead the way, Mom.

Nino sat on a stone bench in the backyard, clutching a teacup that’s long gone cold. Violet ploped down beside her, boots propped on a planter.

- Hey, kiddo. What’s chewing your brain?

- O-oh! Violet! It’s… nothing.

- C’mon, I don’t bite. Mav does, but she’s on a leash.

-…what?

- Joke! – she waved her hand. – Now spill.

A pause. The teacup trembled.

-…Lloyd. He was the last of my adoptive family. He fought to the end. I just… wish he’d chosen us.

- Hold up. – Violet blinked. – First, whaaat?! Those Black Fang chuckleheads raised you? Second, whaaat?! They weren’t your real family?!

- My real parents… Sonia killed them. Jaffar and Uncle Legault insisted on taking me in.

- Damn. – she whistled. – No wonder you’re glued to Mr. Personality.

- But even after everything… I still wanted Sonia to love me. Like… like a mother should.

- Your real mom. Tell me about her.

- Her name was Iris. – her voice was fragile. – She’d… sing me to sleep. Made flower crowns. Smelled like sage.

- Really? Funny thing, my kid’s named Iris. Adopted her. – she puffed up. – I picked the name! Didn’t murder her family, though. So, y’know. Better than Sonia.

- She’s lucky to have you. – Nino giggled.

- Obviously. – Violet grinned.

- Debatable. – Mavka muffled from her shadow.

- Did you hear that? – Nino glanced around.

- Must’ve been the wind. Anyway. My Iris? Total nerd. Sassier than a cat. Steals my wallet. – her smirk softens. – Love her to bits.

- You sound happy. – Nino smiled.

- Listen, sprout. – Violet ruffled her hair. – Losing one family sucks. Losing two? – she exhaled. – Yeah. ‘Been through that too. But you’re tougher than you look, and you sling spells like a pro. You’ll be fine.

-…thanks, Violet.

- Chin up. – she stood up. – Tomorrow’s another day to kick ass. – she winked. – Night, kiddo.

- Goodnight.

Chapter Text

Chapter 90 – Dawn Assault and Lazy Violet’s Behaviour

The door slammed open, revealing Oswin in full armor, his face taut with urgency.

- VIOLET! Black Fang forces are breaching the gates! To arms, now!

Violet remained buried under blankets, one bleary eye cracking open.

- Ugh... s'five AM. Do they know what time it is...?

- What?!

- Yeah, yeah. I'll mosey down. Gimme... seven more minutes.

Oswin's gauntlet creaked as he clenches his fist. A vein throbed in his temple.

-...we. Wait.

He stormed out, door rattling on its hinges. Mavka oozed from the shadows:

- Wow. Even I thought you'd care about enemies inside the walls.

- You go. – she pulled a pillow over her face. – Make it quiet. Five. Minutes.

- No video games, no snacks, just wetwork at dawn. – she sighed. – Fine.

The shadow demon slips through the window like spilled ink.

The courtyard. Black Fang troops advanced, until Denning steped forward, monotone echoing:

- This is a message from Lord Nergal. 'I await you on the Dread Isle. This is a—

SCHLICK.

Mavka's shadow spike erupted from his chest. The morph collapseed mid-sentence.

- Eh?! What the hell—?!

Too late. Tendrils of darkness speaed through the ranks, impaling throats, hearts, spines. No screams. Just the drip of blood on cobblestones.

- RUN! RUN TO THE MAIN FORCE!

The survivors bolted toward Hector's army, not to attack, but to escape the unseen horror behind them.

Hector stood at the gates, Wolf Beil ready, when Violet finally strolled up, yawning.

- Took you long enough.

- And you look like you swallowed a lemon. – she said stretching. – Who pissed in your oats?

- WE'RE UNDER ATTACK—

A Black Fang soldier stumbled into view, wide-eyed, before an unseen force yanks him backward into the dark. Distant crunching followed.

- Huh. – Violet shrugged. – Looks like they're fleeing toward you. Weird.

- POSITIONS! ENEMY APPROACH—

But Violet's already gone.

To Hector's army, she was a flicker of movement, a glint of steel, a spray of blood. A mercenary spun, his ribs splintered from an invisible strike. A mage raised a tome, her head tumbled before the page turned. A knight charged, his kneecap exploded mid-stride.

Two minutes later, the last foe fell. Violet reappeared beside Hector, wiping her blade on a dead man's cloak.

- So. Was it worth waking me up? – Violet raised an eyebrow.

-...perhaps not. – he exhaled, smirk tugging his lips

- There we go. – she grinned. – Smiles suit you better than the whole 'angry badger' vibe.

Chapter Text

Chapter 91 – Clichés

The path to the Dragon's Gate stretched ahead, littered with the wreckage of Black Fang forces. Violet trailed behind Hector's main army, kicking a discarded spear with disinterest. Mavka's shadow slithered alongside her, flickering with annoyance.

- Hey, Mav. Notice how the goons get lazier near the end? Like, where's the final boss energy?

- How would I know? This is literally my second interdimensional field trip.

- It's like a videogame—

- Here we go...

- But the balance is whack. This Nerdgal clown sends Cavaliers instead of Paladins? In the final stretch? Dumb. Dumb! – she flings her arms up.

- They’re weak because we’re OP.

- If that were true, I wouldn’t care. But no! Hector’s out here playing ‘Hard Mode’ with half his army benched. – she mimics a strategist. – Oh no, too many units! Better only deploy five guys against a dragon!

-…it is weird.

- See?! Terrible game design. Let’s wrap this up, Iris is probably redecorating my apartment with my wallet again.

At the Dragon’s Gate

- If you're looking for me, I'm right here. – Athos materialized in a swirl of magic.

- Lord Athos! – Eliwood brightened.

- Took you long enough, Graybeard! – Hector grinned.

- Well? – Lyn crossed arms. – Did you find what we need?

Athos produced the legendary weapons with a dramatic flourish.

- Aureola, the light of Saint Elimine. Durandal, blade of flames. Armads, the thunder axe. And for you, Lyndis, the Sol Katti, sister to your Mani Katti.

The trio grips their new weapons, awestruck.

- The power... it's overwhelming.

- With this, Nergal's done.

- It's... heavier than I expected.

Violet leaned against a crumbling pillar, arms crossed, unimpressed.

- Man, this is boring. – she eyed Lyn struggling with Sol Katti. – Hey, Lyn. That thing giving you trouble?

- No, it's fine. – she forced a smile. – Just... needs adjustment.

- See? – Violet muttered to Mavka. – Bad design. Bet it hits like a wet noodle compared to Durandal.

- Maybe it’s balanced.

- Yeah, balanced wrong. Next thing you know, javelins will outclass everything.

- Hmm? – Lyn blinked. – Did you say something?

- Nothing. Let’s just kick Nergal’s teeth in and go home.

Hector’s army spread, while Violet separated from the group. Violet kicked the iron door off its hinges, the metal screeching as it tumbles into the dim chamber beyond.

- Knock knock. Pizza delivery.

A Swordmaster and Hero whirled to face her. Face familiar. Lloyd lurched forward, his movements stiff, eyes hollow.

- Not even good numbers. And you. – she points at Lloyd. – Look deader than my credit score.

Lloyd lunged. She sidesteps, slamming the flat of her blade into his spine, driving him face-first into the stone. Linus charged, she flicks her wrist, decapitating him mid-stride. Both collapsed with barely a gasp, their final breaths more relief than agony. Violet plucked the Regal Blade and Tomahawk from their corpses:

- Huh. Free loot.

She shoulder-checked the next door, hurling the Tomahawk before the door even hit the ground. It embedded in a Dark Mage’s skull. Two more mages raised their tomes *bang* *bang* they dropped, spells fizzling.

- These world is hell of boring.

Rather than bother with another door, Violet punches through the wall, stone crumbling like dry bread.

- Knock knock. Sushi delivery.

Two Warriors charged. She vanished, their axes cleaved empty air. A blur of steel, and both toppled, limbs severed before they register the pain.

- Man, this is like playing Easy Mode.

Hector's army approached Violet. Hector opened his mouth to say something, but Violet said it first.

- No questions. You’re gonna say the same thing as last time. Move.

Hector scowled but charged ahead with Athos, Eliwood, and Lyn.

- You’re just… letting them take the final boss? – Mavka oozed from the shadows.

- Nah. – she grinned. – Watch.

As the lords began their climactic lines, Violet whispers them word-for-word to Mavka, her timing flawless:

- I know that I've caused much pain for my friends. But that is why... I will not lose here today!! – Eliwood said dramatically.

- I know that I've caused much pain for my friends. But that is why... I will not lose here today!! – Violet said in perfect sync

- Nergal! – Lyn’s blade was gleaming. – In my friends' names, I will cut you down!

- Nergal! – Violet murmured. – In my friends' names, I will cut you down!

- Nergal! – Hector raised his axe. – My connection to you... it's over! I'm finishing everything up right here!!

- Nergal! – she smirked. – My connection to you... it's over! I'm finishing everything up right here!!

-…are you a prophet? – Mavka stared.

- Nah. Just genre-savvy.

- ENOUGH! – Nergal roared. – I WILL NOT BE IGNORED!

- Oh nooo, the edge! – she mockingly grabbed her chest. – It’s so sharp I might bleed.

- You’re insufferable.

- Flattered.

Violet strolled up to the panting lords, hands in her pockets.

- Welp, that’s that. Oh wait. Dragon check.

Hector raised an eyebrow:

- What are you—

A roar. The ground split as three fire dragons erupt from the earth, wings casting the battlefield in shadow.

- WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?! – Hector’s eyes were wide opened.

- T-Three dragons… We can’t—! – Lyn’s sword trembled in her hands.

- Nergal’s last curse…! – Eliwood was horrified.

- Called it. – Violet nodded.

Athos tried to lure the dragons. Bramimond arrived. Ninian got resurrected. Two dragons got iced. It’s all very dramatic. …well, as Violet would describe it.

- Bet you my Donte figurine Eliwood yells ‘NINIAN!!’ again in three… two…

- NINIAN!! – Eliwood sprinted forward.

- Pay up.

- Chosen ones! – Athos turned to the others. – You must stop the final dragon! You must save us all!!

- Chosen ones! – Violet began in perfect sync. – You must stop the final dragon! You must save us all!!

- Okay, yes, you’re clairvoyant. Shut up. – Mavka looked done.

- Pretty sure this overgrown lizard only takes damage from legendary weapons. – she gestures to Durandal, Armads, Sol Katti. – Too bad I’m already legendary. Go get your glory, kids.

- How are you so calm?! We’re about to die!

Violet clutched her chest and with a dramatic whisper said:

- Because… I believe in you, Hector… Eliwood… Lyn… – back to normal voice. – Now go stab it.

- Tch. Fine. – Hector’s still angry, but grinning.

Chapter Text

Chapter 92 – A Farewell to the World of Blazing

Hector leaned against a stone pillar, arms crossed as Violet approached, Regal Blade slung over her shoulder like a golf club.

- Ah, Violet! Good to see you not napping for once.

- Yeah, yeah. You mostly didn’t die. Credit where it’s due. – she adjusts the blade. – Anyway, gotta bolt. My daughter is probably auctioning my stuff as we speak.

- You have a daughter? That’s… weirdly sweet.

- Bites my ass daily, but hey, free wallet security. – she pats the Regal Blade. – This’s coming with me. Souvenir rules.

- Fine, fine. Farewell, Violet.

- Take care, Hector.

At the rift’s edge, Violet spins on her heel, Shooting Star flashing blue as she carves the portal apart in a flurry of slashes. The fracture shatters like stained glass, each piece dissolving mid-air.

- Tch. – she said sheathing her sword. – Still not as cool as Virgin. – *click* – But it’ll do.

She steps through, the last shard reflecting her smirk vanishing into static.

Chapter Text

Chapter 93 – Going to the Cinema

The apartment kitchen. Violet and Iris sit cross-legged on the floor, a shared platter of sushi between them. Their chopsticks hover like dueling rapiers. A single piece of salmon nigiri remains on Iris’s plate.

A blur of movement, Iris snatches the last piece and bolts backward, chopsticks raised in triumph.

- Your sushi. Give that to me.

- No way. You’ve got your own. – she pointed at the half-filled plate.

- Well I want yours too.

Their eyes narrowed, cowboy-standoff style, the air crackled with tension.

Violet lunges, stabbing her sticks toward Iris’s prize. Iris parries, twisting her wrist to shield the sushi. Violet’s chopstick jabs*clack*blocked by Iris’s lightning deflection. Iris shoves Violet’s hand back, but the nigiri teeters precariously. Violet punches Iris’s wrist. The sushi launches into the air.

Both launch after it. Violet dives, sliding across the floor like a baseball player. Iris leaps, chopsticks outstretched.

CLACK-CLACK-CLACK

Their sticks clash mid-recovery, a frenzied duel as the sushi arcs downward. Violet catches it in her teeth, landing in a crouch.

- Hah! – mouth full, smug. – Looks like I woaaaaaa—

Her eyes widened. Iris was already back at the table, chopsticks deep in Violet’s untouched platter.

- Punishment for cheating.

Later that day

The sun hanged low, painting the streets in gold. Violet kicked a pebble, hands in her pockets, while Iris matched her stride.

- So. How’d you like your first interdimensional field trip?

- Strange. Interesting. But… I’d rather stay here, if I can.

- Hah! – Violet grinned. – My first time was way weirder. Went to sleep in a bar, woke up in a—

- Got drunk. Got teleported. Yes, Mother, I’ve heard.

- You’re spoiling the lore for newcomers!

- You enjoy this, don’t you? – she side-eyed Violet.

- Are you kidding? Best gig ever! Though… – she deflates slightly. – Ever since Yav’, it’s gotten too easy. Barely counts as a workout.

- Oh no. How traumatic for you.

Violet stops mid-step.

- What? – Iris paused.

- You’ve changed. – Violet’s smile was soft.

- What’s that supposed to mean?

- ‘Got it.’ ‘Fine.’ ‘I don’t mind.’ – she laughs. – Teen you was all edge. Now? Full sentences! Progress!

- Mother…

-…I don’t hate having you here. But—

- But?

- 23 months. Then you go back. It’s not safe long-term. You know that.

- You weren’t from Fódlan either, yet you—! – she clenched her fists.

- You know why I’m different. – she ruffles Iris’s hair. – Our time’s short, so let’s make it count. Deal?

- You already spend every day with me. – she sniffed.

- And?

-…I just wish it could last.

- It can. But not here. – she flicked Iris’s forehead. – Go home. Marry that Lambert dork. Pop out a few mini-yous. Live the life I can’t. You will be happy that way, I know that.

-…I will.

- Good! Now. – she hooks an arm around Iris’s neck, dragging her toward the cinema. – Let’s go watch whatever trash you’ve been begging to see.

- It’s Donte May Cry: The Movie, actually. – Iris smirked.

- Oh, this is gonna be interesting.

After the movie

Violet stormed down the sidewalk, fists clenched, while Iris trailed behind with an amused smirk.

- Man, I can’t believe they butchered my Donte so hard! I will never recover from that!

- Well, I liked it. – Iris shrugged. – Plot was mid, but the action was fine.

- You only liked it because you know nothing about the series! You probably think ‘Royal Guard’ is a police rank!

- And you spend your days practicing combos as that white-haired edgelord.

-…which one?

- The one in the red coat.

- That is not an edgelord! – Violet clutched her chest. – That’s a complex character with layers! But here? In this movie?! – she kicked a trash can. – They made him a joke! And his niece’s theme playing during his demon trigger?! What the hell is this?! – she threw up her arms.

-Could’ve been worse. They could’ve made him a side character.

- THAT’S LITERALLY WHAT THEY DID! Did you watch the same film?! And the demons, since when are they oppressed Laguz?! Demons are evil, Mav and Zmey excluded! They eat people! They don’t need civil rights!

- You’re overreacting. – she patted her shoulder.

- Overreacting?! This is the worst thing to happen since ‘Donte Might Cry’! If I ever meet the director, I’m skinning him alive!

- Hah. – Iris grinned. – And here I thought the legendary ‘Violet Demon’ couldn’t be rattled by something so… petty.

- Watch your mouth, girl! – she grabbed Iris’s collar. – This series means everything to me! Well… – she deflates. – After you, of course.

A beat. She sighs, releasing Iris.

- Let’s just go home. I’m hungry.

- And angry.

- Shut up.

Chapter Text

Chapter 94 – Incident at the Café

Sunlight streamed through the window of their apartment, illuminating the table. Violet twirled her paddle like a sword, while Iris adjusted her grip with surgical precision. The ball rested between them, silent, waiting.

- Heh. – Violet’s thoughts. – She’s got that ‘stoic assassin’ face on. Cute. Let’s see how long it lasts.

- Mother’s smirking. – Iris’s thoughts. – She’s planning something obnoxious.

Violet tosses the ball high. Then, at the last second, fakes a brutal smash, instead tapping it just over the net with a feather-light touch.

- Classic fake-out. Works every—

Iris dives, paddle scraping the table as she flicks the ball back with a spin that sends it curving toward Violet’s far corner.

- Predictable.

- Oh, you little—

The ball becomes a blur. Violet slides sideways, returning with a sidespin that makes the ball zigzag mid-air.

- Let’s see her math her way out of this.

Iris narrows her eyes, calculating trajectory, then strikes with a flat, brutal counter.

- Physics don’t lie. Checkmate.

The ball rockets past Violet’s paddle.

Score: Iris – 1, Violet – 0

- Not bad. – Violet grinned. – But can you handle this?

She serves again, this time, the ball clips the net, dribbling over.

- Cheap trick.

She lunges, barely tipping it back, only for Violet to smash it into her face.

- BOOM! Point Mom! – she laughed

-…you’re insufferable. – she said wiping her cheek. Then thoughts. – But I’ll wipe that smirk off.

Match point. 10-10. The air crackles.

Iris serves, a knife-edge shot skimming the table’s edge. Violet barely returns it, sending it high, a setup for a kill. Iris jumps, paddle raised for the final smash—But Violet suddenly tosses her paddle, catching the ball bare-handed.

Silence.

- Oops. Forgot the rules.

-…that’s cheating.

- Nah. That’s style. – she ruffled her hair.

They collapse on the couch, sweating. Iris glares. Violet grins. They lie sprawled on the floor, sweat dripping, paddles discarded. The table tennis ball rolls lazily under the couch.

- Never thought… buying a ping pong table… would be this fun.

- Yeah… if someone didn’t blow her paychecks on slots… we could’ve had one years ago.

- Pleaaase, just a little more allowance next time! I’m starving! – she clasped her hands in exaggerated prayer.

- No. You’ll just gamble it. Or buy another creepy anime figure.

- Creepy?! – she gasped, offended. – That’s True Blade Online merch! Crimea’s #1 anime!

- Mainstream trash. Also. What was the last time you read? Last I checked, you ‘trained’ by mashing buttons in Donte May Cry.

- I do read!

- Yeah. Half-naked men in Playgirl journal.

- Hey, art appreciation counts! And you act like books didn’t evolve into games and anime!

- It’s different.

- Ohhh, so I’m trash for gaming, but you ditching me for the library every day is fine?

- It's not like I could actually spend time with you, when you're stuck in your games 24/7.

- Heh. – her smile softened. – And yet… here we are.

A pause. Iris’s smirk fades into something quieter.

- Yeah. Here we are.

- I like it when you smile. – she poked Iris’s cheek.

- And I like it when you’re stupid.

- HEY—

- Joking. Mostly. – she stood up. – Ready for Round 2?

- I’m gonna wreck you harder than last time!

- In your dreams.

Later that day at the outside café

Violet licks her mint-chocolate swirl, watching Iris demolish a towering sundae with uncharacteristic enthusiasm.

- You’re really enjoying that.

- You know better than anyone I’d sell you for a caramel drizzle.

- Nah, I remember. – she laughed. – Just funny. Miss ‘I-Could-Freeze-Hell-With-My-Glare’ goes weak for sugar.

- You bought me sweets. – Iris’s voice softened. – Every time you came back from a mission. – a pause. – They taste like those days.

- Aww, sentimental! Who are you?

-...and they’re good. That’s all.

A woman’s shriek cuts through the chatter:

- HELP! DEMON!

Neither moves. A beat.

- Did you let Mavka loose again? – Iris side-eyed Violet.

- Nope. Mav’s right here. – she patted her shadow, which flickers in protest. – What am I, stupid?

- That’s one word for it. – she stood up.

- HEY—

- Move. Probably a real one this time.

A quaint bakery’s storefront, now littered with shattered glass. Five skeletal demons armed with rusted axes and swords lurched forward, bones clattering. Iris sighs, hands in pocket:

- This is the ‘emergency’? No sword today? Tch. Bare hands’ll do.

- Try it. – Violet grinned, tossing her pistol. – Trust me, it’s fun.

Iris catches the gun, keeps one hand in her pocket:

-...very well.

Violet charges, no aura, just brute force. She punches one skeleton’s ribcage into splinters, then jams her pistol into another’s gaping jaw.

- Jackpot.

BANG. The demon’s skull explodes. Iris stood still, one-handed shot. First shot hatters a skeleton’s kneecap, it collapses. Second shot - headshot. The demon disintegrates mid-fall. Violet spins, shoots the fourth demon in rapid succession - hand then chest then head. Three shots, three hits. Iris casually aims. Final shot blows the last skeleton’s skull apart before Violet can turn.

- Hey! That was my kill! – Violet protested, arms on the hips.

- You’re slow.

- I got the assist, at least!

-...that was too easy.

- C’mon, Snowflake, ice cream’s melting.

- Your half’s melted. Mine’s fine.

Chapter Text

Chapter 95 – Debt Collectors

Morning light barely pierced the curtains when Iris was violently ripped from sleep by PC Speakers:

- Go home, Niro! It doesn't concern you!

- Like hell! I lost my right arm because of him!

Iris's eye twitched under her sleep mask. The glowing numbers on her alarm clock read 6:17 AM.

- You don't get it!

- Let me guess, I’m deadweight. Well, you can shove—

- That’s not it.

- What is it then?

- He's your father!

Violet's gasp rattled the windows.

- NO WAY!

Iris's hand shot out from under the covers, groping blindly for anything throwable. Her fingers closed around a decorative pillow - the one with "World's Okayest Mom" embroidered on it, a gift she deeply regretted.

- Virgin is his father?! But I thought he was called Virgin for a reason—

The pillow connected with the back of Violet's head with a satisfying thump.

- What fresh hell is this? Some of us need sleep!

Violet, completely unfazed, paused the game and spun around in her gaming chair. Dark circles under her eyes suggested she'd been up all night. Again.

- Iris! You gotta see this plot twist! Donte's brother is—

- Let me guess. The brat’s father?

- You saw it! No fair.

Iris dragged herself upright, hair sticking up in three directions. She fixed Violet with a glare that could flash-freeze magma.

- Three rules. One: No Donte May Cry before noon. Two: Headphones exist for a reason. Three: If you wake me up again, I'm donating your coat collection to charity.

- You wouldn't dare! – Violet gasped like Iris had suggested drowning kittens.

Iris flopped back down, pulling the covers over her head. Muffled through blankets:

- Test me.

Silence. Then.

- Oh come ON! – That dodge totally hit!

A second pillow this one memory foam sailed across the room with deadly accuracy.

Later that evening

The office door creaked open as Iris returned, her Regal Blade still steaming from demon ichor.

- Listen, Mother. I need your Shoo— – she froze mid-step. – What the hell are you wearing?

Before her sat Violet in full "Virgin" cosplay. Dollar-store sunglasses perched crookedly on her nose, a black pleather jacket, energetic can dangling from her fingertips, plastic katana duct-taped to her other hand.

- Friendship with Donte is over. Now Virgin is my best friend.

- What are—

- You like the cosplay? – she stroke a pose.

- You looked slightly less ridiculous in Donte's coat.

Violet's face lit up like a kid told they're getting extra dessert.

- You think so?

- Of course not! Did you spend our rent money on this trash?

- Well, the energy drink was on sale, and these sunglasses make me look mysterio—

A loud knock interrupted them. Iris' eye twitched.

- Expecting guests?

- Nope. – she turned her chair away from the door. – But I know exactly who... – she snapped her fingers. – Lights!

Iris sighed but hit the switch before collapsing onto the couch. The door exploded inward.

- You little shit, where are—? – a sturdy man walked in, his goons fanned out, bats ready.

A can clattered across the floor. All eyes followed it to where Violet now stood in shadow.

- You came for debts, didn't you?

- Damn right, Violet! Time to pay up!

Violet stood up from the chair into the light, plastic katana held reverse-grip.

- If you want it, then you'll have to take it. – a pause. – But you already knew that.

- Enough games! Pay or we rearrange your face!

He blinked and Violet vanished. A gust of wind. Then--

CRUNCH.

Her fist buried itself in his gut, sending him bowling through his men like demonic strike pins. They tumbled back into the alley in a groaning heap.

- The hell was—?

- Now I'm really gonna—

They looked up. Violet stood in the doorway, sunglasses gone. Her eyes burned with blue fire.

- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?! RUN, BOYS!

The sound of squeaking sneakers faded down the street.

- Ah. So that's where I get my scary face. – Iris said sipping tea.

- Nah, yours is way worse. Sometimes you glare and I get phantom kidney pain.

-...I'm taking a shower and then going to bed.

- Wait, why are you smiling—?

- If I hear one 'Jackpot' before noon, I'm selling your PC to pay those loan sharks.

- But I haven't beaten Bloody Palace with Virgin yet!

- Good night, virgin.

The door slams.

- She totally admitted my cosplay was cool, right? – Violet whispered to Mavka’s shadow.

-...I hope she sells the computer.

Chapter Text

Chapter 96 – Another Request and One-Eyed Monster

The rift pulsed like a sickly heartbeat, casting violet shadows across the jagged cave walls. Violet cracked her knuckles, Shooting Star already materializing in her grip.

- So, wanna go down with me this time? – she grinned.

- Why not. – Iris adjusted her gloves.

- No sarcasm? – she mock gasped. – No ‘This is beneath me’? I’m touched!

- Don’t push it. – she walked past her

The air reeked of sulfur and wet fur. Stalactites dripped neon-blue liquid, illuminating a cavern three times larger than their usual haunts.

- Huh. – Violet whistled low. – This cave’s got delusions of grandeur. Stay vigilant.

- I don’t need to. Not when I have you by my side.

- Aww, that’s—

- You broke a bandit’s arms mid-charge when I was eight. I’m statistically safer near you.

-...still allergic to sentimentality, huh? – she grinned.

A chorus of snarls erupted as two-headed hellhounds skittered from crevices, drooling acid, lizard-men clanked forward, tower shields locking into a wall, twin minotaurs emerged, axes scraping the ceiling.

- Damn, they brought the buffet today! And those two are minotaurs. This’ll be fun… well, maybe for you!

- Small fish. Let’s gut them and close the rift. – she dropped a sack.

- Since when do you pack loot bags?

- Mavka shouldn’t have to drag corpses and your poor life choices home.

- Unbelievable. – Mavka said from Violet’s shadow. – The brat cares more for my back than my own owner.

- Sorry?

- Zmey. – the ash started to come out of Iris’s body. – You’re loose today. Hungry?

- Lady Iris! I’ll ensure you’re not disappointed!

-...you never do. – she said softly.

Violet moved like a storm, Shooting Star flashing in wide, reckless arcs. She spun mid-air, slicing one hound clean in half, then landed in a crouch, pistols already drawn. Two quick shots, *bang, bang* took out another’s eyes before it could snap at her.

- Heh! Like shooting fish in a—whoa! – she flipped backward as acid splashed where she’d stood, laughing. – Okay, spicy fish!

Meanwhile, Iris was a silent blade. No wasted motion. A hound leapt, she sidestepped, Regal Blade flicking out once. The beast hit the ground in two pieces, already dissolving. Another charged; she parried its bite with her sword’s flat, then rammed her boot into its ribs, sending it crashing into a stalactite.

Zmey, freed from Iris’s shadow, was a whirlwind of teeth and claws. His three heads snapped in unison, tearing through hounds like paper. One tried to flee, he pounced, pinning it with a paw before biting down with a sickening crunch.

Iris was already moving toward the next wave. The lizard-men advanced in a shield wall, their spears glinting behind the barrier. Violet grinned:

- Oho, a challenge! – she holstered her pistols, cracked her knuckles, and slammed her fist into the ground. A shockwave of blue energy rippled out, knocking the front line off-balance. Before they could recover, she dashed forward, Shooting Star carving through shields like butter. – Break time’s over, boys! – she kicked one lizard-man into his ally, sending both sprawling.

Iris, meanwhile, analyzed the formation. A gap, one lizard-man’s shield dipped slightly. She darted in, sword-tip slipping under the rim, and yanked. The shield flew aside; her follow-up stab pierced his throat.

The next lunged, she ducked, letting his spear pass harmlessly overhead, then sliced his legs out from under him.

Zmey, impatient, barreled through the ranks, tails and claws scattering bodies. One lizard-man tried to stab him, Zmey bit the spear in half, then swallowed the man whole.

The minotaurs roared, axes swinging. Violet whooped:

- Now we’re talking! – she backflipped over the first swing, firing mid-air. Bullets pinged off the minotaur’s horns, annoying it more than hurting. – Okay, bad plan. – she dove aside as its axe cratered the ground where she’d stood.

Iris didn’t rush. She circled, watching. The second minotaur charged, she waited until the last second, then sidestepped, Regal Blade flashing. A deep gash opened on its hamstring. It bellowed, stumbling.

- Zmey.

The dragon slammed into the wounded minotaur, pinning it. Iris leapt onto its back, driving her sword down between its shoulders. It collapsed. Meanwhile, Violet had climbed the other minotaur like a tree, stabbing Shooting Star into its spine. It howled, thrashing, she rode the motion, launching off as it crashed face-first into the ground.

- And stay down! – she landed in a crouch, pistols drawn. – Heh. Still got it.

The cave fell silent. Iris wiped her blade clean, surveying the carnage.

- Lady Iris! Did I—?

- You did great. – Iris’s smile was uncharacteristically soft.

- Phew! – Violet stretched. – That was a workout. – she eyed Iris. – So, uh… you gonna admit that was fun?

- No.

- Unbelievable. – Mavka dragged a minotaur head. – I do all the heavy lifting.

Iris dusted off her jacket:

- Sorry, Mavka. There wasn’t a bigger bag.

- Rgh! Stop irritating me with your kindness, you meat bag!

Then a roar, deep enough to shake the cave walls.

- I knew that wasn’t the last of them. – Iris said unfazed.

- The boss of the dungeon! – Violet grinned. – They always show up toward the end.

A voice boomed from the shadows, dripping with malice:

- Puny humans dare to disturb me? You will regret stepping foot in this place.

- Hey, just doing our job here. – Violet shrugged. – Nothing personal.

The creature lumbered into view, a massive Cyclops, its single eye glowing with fury. It sniffed the air, then locked onto Violet.

- Oh. You. The one who slew Chernobog and stole his power.

- Relatives?

- Chernobog died ages ago. And we have grown stronger since. You truly think you can stand against me?

- Well, the only thing you can’t win against is Gharnef. – Violet smirked. – I’ll take my chances with you, ugly.

- Ignorant human, as ever. – his eye flicked to Iris. – Hmm. Just a human?

- Bothered? – Iris said coldly.

- No. – it grinned. – I’m just deciding how to kill you. Slow? Or slow and painful.

The Cyclops slammed his fist into the ground where they stood. Both leapt aside, but his eye tracked Iris mid-air. He swung, his massive knuckles crashing toward her.

CLANG

She blocked with her sword, but the force sent her flying backward. Before she could hit the wall, she twisted, kicked off the stone, and landed in a crouch. No hesitation. She dashed forward, just as the Cyclops charged after her, fists crashing into the cave floor like meteors.

- Hey, one-eye! Over here! – Violet fired at his eye.

The Cyclops blocked the bullets with his palm...

- Huh?!

…just as Iris slashed his guarding hand, bounced off his arm, and flipped behind him. A clean strike to his spine. The monster roared, stumbling forward. Iris didn’t let up. She dove between his legs, Regal Blade flashing, slicing both Achilles’ tendons.

CRASH.

The Cyclops collapsed onto his backside, howling. He swiped at her blindly, but she stepped back just enough.

SCHLICK.

Three of his fingers hit the ground.

- YOU LITTLE—!

But Iris was already in the air, sword aimed like a spear.

THUNK.

The blade buried deep into his eye. Silence. The Cyclops twitched. Iris twisted the blade 180 degrees, like turning a key. Then nothing. The monster slumped, lifeless.

- Damn, that was cold! – Violet whistled. – Especially the eye-stab-twist. Me? I like to monologue first, give ‘em a chance to regret their life choices.

- A mistake that’ll get you killed someday.