Hey...

There's an A/N at the end of the chapter. I'll explain some things there.

Summary: Fado's actions were not without consequences.

Chapter 13

Fado had never been good at estimating the consequences of his actions as a child. Just like many other of his abilities, his loss had erased it his mind.

The next morning, Fado woke up with a throbbing head. Groaning and holding his head, he sat up and looked around. He was in one of the guest rooms of the Keep – not the one he had always been in when he visited – and while it was delightful to sleep in a proper bed again, his night had been restless. Fado couldn't remember his dreams but he felt an aching in his chest when he tried to.

"Vigarde's dead," he whispered and it still sounded silly to his ears. Untrue. Impossible. He just sat on his bed, went over the happenings of yesterday and tried to find sense in them. Why was this all happening? How could everything be so wrong? He had expected an incredible answer to all this, but this… He couldn't have thought up this end even in his wildest dreams.

Eventually – it must've been at least an hour since he woke up – Fado carefully stood up. His whole body was sore, especially his legs. Fado laughed breathlessly at his state as he shuffled over to the table and chairs under the windows. It seemed to be very early; the western sky still had a dark tinge.

Fado sighed and ran his hand over his face. He was mentally exhausted. He would love to hide for the rest of the day so that he could think everything over and return to his son and the army with a smile on his lips. He would be even more useless to them in his grieving. In a time like this, he had to be strong. That was his duty. Fado groaned and leaned back his head, closing his eyes. Silence and solitude, that was what he needed now.

Unfortunately, someone knocked on the door. Fado sat up, schooled his features and called the visitor in.

"Good morning, Father," Ephraim said, expression serious and maybe even pained.

"Ephraim," Fado answered surprised. He had expected Iustus. "What brings you here?" he added with a soft smile. The sight of his very alive son was restorative after his dark musings.

Ephraim walked over to him and sat down, folding his hands on the table. "I need to tell you what we learned yesterday." He hesitated before he continued with a strained voice: "We found one of Lyon's researchers in the dungeons. He was an eye witness to the creation of the Dark Stone. Do you remember the Dark Stone?"

"Of course."

Ephraim nodded to himself. "It was Lyon who made it… he split the Fire Emblem in two."

"What?" Fado blinked confused and then, frowning, fixed his gaze on Ephraim. "Are you… telling me Prince Lyon played around with Grado's stone? Does he not know what is in the stone?"

"Yes, he did know. He was the one who taught me about it," Ephraim answered. His shoulders were squared and stiff now. Fado wanted to say more, but he bit his tongue.

"Alright, continue."

"The researcher said Lyon wanted to use the power of the stone to save and protect Grado and its people." Fado wanted to laugh, but he pressed his lips together tightly and looked at the table. "But then… his father died."

"Wait, what?" Ephraim's words unintentionally dispelled Fado's tenseness.

"The emperor died over a year ago." Fado stared at his son unbelievingly. "He died of an illness."

Fado's mind whirled. Then that letter Fado had received in spring that year had been his last contact with his friend. The man– no, thing truly hadn't been Vigarde. Well, at least not wholly. This hadn't been Vigarde's idea and he hadn't betrayed Fado and he had been right. His instincts had been right and he was not losing it… But how? Fado shook his head. "How is that possible?"

"Lyon used the power of the Dark Stone to resurrect the emperor." Fado gritted his teeth. "But after that… Lyon seemed to be changed. He destroyed the Sacred Stone and ordered the destruction of the others. He is behind all this." Ephraim fell silent and for a moment the air was heavy with emotion.

Fighting against the anger welling up in his chest, Fado tried to remember what he knew of the Gradian Prince. He was a shy boy, very polite but reserved. He was an alright conversationalist as long as the topic didn't stray towards fighting or politics. He had opened up to Ephraim and Eirika, but Fado only knew him superficially. There had never been time to get to know him. And Vigarde had always adopted this slightly disapproving and worried expression when he talked about his son. From what Vigarde had told him, Fado would've also been concerned and now that worry seemed justified.

"Father?" Fado stood up abruptly and paced up and down the room, ignoring the stabbing pain in his legs.

"So you want to tell me that Prince Lyon, Vigarde's boy, desecrated Vigarde's body and name just to do what?" Fado whirled around to look at Ephraim; the boy's expression was blank. "Save Grado from what?"

"The researcher hasn't told us yet." Ephraim's answer was clipped and defensive.

"Why Vigarde?" Fado asked after another round through the room. "Why– why not do it himself?" Tears of anger prickled behind Fado's eyes. "Why did he destroy everything Vigarde ever worked for?! He always wanted peace, worked himself almost to death just to–" Gulping down tears, Fado paced quicker. The more he thought about this, the angrier he got. "And his son– Son! Bah, that's supposed to be his son– using him like that– disrespecting– using him!" He was working himself into a rage. He stomped through the room, only looking forward and seeing nothing else.

"Father!" Fado stopped suddenly. Ephraim had stood up and was glaring at him. "We don't know his motives yet."

"I don't care about his motives," Fado hissed before he could control his mouth. "He single-handedly destroyed everything Vigarde had fought for– bitterly fought for! For more than thirty years!"

"Father–"

"Using the power of the Demon King!" Fado yelled and continued his pacing. "How naïve and– and arrogant do you have to be to think you can command the Demon King! That–"

"Father!" Fado stopped dead in his tracks as Ephraim stepped into his way. His son looked almost as furious as Fado was feeling. "We do not know yet what happened to Lyon. You were trusting and excusing Emperor Vigarde the whole time, even though it seemed obvious that he was the leader of the war and now you're not extending your trust to his son?"

"I don't know him," Fado started, but Ephraim interrupted him.

"Exactly. You don't know him. I do and I say that this is not normal for Lyon." Ephraim's expression softened. "I've… met him and he seemed different."

"You met him?" Fado asked shocked.

"Yes, and he seemed like a completely different person. There is still more behind all of this." Ephraim looked Fado directly in the eye and awaited his reaction. They stared at each other for a moment before Fado exhaled a deep breath.

"Alright." He turned away and walked to the other end of the room. "You're right." He ran his hand over his face. "Would you leave me alone for now? I need to think."

"Of course, Father." Fado listened to his son's footsteps and waited until the door fell close. Then he sighed deeply and let his posture slump.

"What in the Goddess' name is going on?" he asked. A small part of him just wanted to go back to bed; maybe tomorrow everything would look better. Hush, you're not a little boy anymore. Fado started pacing, trying to think over this new information but his head was throbbing too much; he couldn't formulate even one clear thought.

He hadn't completely calmed down when there was another knock on the door. "Who's there?" Fado called, slightly annoyed.

"Karl, Your Majesty."

"Come in." Fado relaxed slightly. Maybe talking with Karl would help him clear his mind. The knight entered and Fado immediately felt something constrict in his chest. Karl looked angry. "What's going on?" he asked, even though deep down, he really didn't want to know or deal with it.

"Your Majesty, with all due respect," Karl bowed curtly, "what were you thinking?!"

"I don't understand." Fado straightened and the rage he had just managed to lock away in the back of mind came flooding back.

"Is that how you repay us for our sacrifices?"

"Get to the point," Fado snarled. Karl turned grimmer.

"Dozens of men and women gave their lives for you. To save you from certain death. And this is how you repay them? Throwing your life away for nothing?"

"Nothing!? Don't you dare–"

"Yes, I dare!" Fado was taken aback for a second; Karl had never treated him like this in the thirty years they'd known each other. "We saved – all of us saved you because we wanted you to live! We thought that if you lived, Renais would continue! That's why they died! Because they knew you could lead them. They hoped you would save them! And you are throwing their sacrifices away and for what!? To stroke your ego!"

"You–"

"In Taizel you had no choice so I understood. I asked you to be careful and you promised you would. And the next thing you do? You're risking everything again! Do you even care about the people!?"

"Don't you dare!" Fado jumped forward, jabbing his index finger against Karl's chest. "Don't you dare insist I don't care about my people!"

"Then you're not doing a good job showing it!" Karl yelled back. "You're spitting on their wishes and hopes. If you're only going to throw your life away, we should've let them execute you and spent our time on saving someone worthy!"

Fado was shocked to his core; for a moment he could only stare at the seething knight. His innards felt frozen and his skin flushed with fever. "Out," he croaked before he found his voice again. "Out!"

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Karl hissed and turned on his heels. Fado trembled, breathing heavily, and when the door fell close behind the knight, Fado whirled around, stalking through the room. His mind was jumbled, incoherent, and he was just burning with anger and hate and guilt.

He saw red. He was boiling. He needed to let it out. Screaming angrily, he grabbed the nearest furniture, the table, and flipped it over. The wood crashed loudly against the floor, the cups and plates on it splintering in hundreds of pieces, and Fado was still full of energy. He paced again.

"Throwing tables– throwing! Who am I, a half-witted drunkard?!" he roared. It sounded awfully true and that angered Fado even more. Suddenly he was interrupted by yet another knock. "What!?" The door opened slowly.

"S- sir?" Iustus peeked in.

"What do you want?" Fado snapped at him.

"I- I–"

"What!?"

"N- nothing," Iustus squeaked and tried to run.

"Don't you dare running away like that!" Trembling like a leaf in a storm, Iustus came back and entered the room. He kept his gaze glued at the ground. "Get me someone," Fado said as he began to pace, not wanting to look at that pathetic display of fear, "someone who can fight."

"Yes, sir," Iustus answered quickly.

"Not Karl. Don't you dare to get Karl," Fado added, his voice even more hostile. "Someone else. And get me a sword." When Iustus didn't leave, Fado yelled: "Now!"

"Y- yes." Iustus almost flew out of the room. Fado growled lowly, angry at himself and everything else.

"How dare he," he hissed, "how dare Karl call me ungrateful. Disrespecting their sacrifices– I would never–" Never risk my life needlessly?

"It wasn't unnecessary," Fado grumbled, "it was always important. I always weighted the risks against the gains and there were always more gains." More gains for who? Fado stopped dead in his track and bit his lip just to hurt himself.

He refused to follow that train of thought, objecting categorically to look at himself and see if there was any truth in Karl's words. How dare he talk like that to his king; he was a vassal, he had to keep his mouth shut and his opinion to himself when Fado told him to. To disobey him like that– Fado should publicly flog him.

He almost felt relieved when another person knocked. It was a female soldier who looked vaguely familiar to Fado. "Lady Raphaela," she introduced herself and offered Fado one of the swords she brought with her. He recognised her then as one of Karl's soldiers who had been in Fort Lochmol with them.

"You're ready?" he asked her with a raised eyebrow. His anger felt easier to direct now that he had a weapon in hand.

"Iustus said you wanted to fight and I do as well." Her fine face twisted with anger for a second before it grew blank. "I'll give back as good as I can, if you allow."

Fado nodded sharply. If she needed to let off steam too who was he to deny her that. "Then draw your blade," Fado snarled and shifted into an attack stance.

It was no true fight: they were just senselessly smashing their blades together, putting far too much strength in every swing just to get tired quickly. Their attacks were ungraceful, unskillful and almost uncoordinated – they were lucky that they didn't hurt themselves.

When they finally stood facing each other, both desperately gasping for air, they lowered their weapons. Fado walked to the overturned table and the chairs and flopped down on one; his muscles were screaming loudly in protest and some felt like they would snap the next time he'd use them. Raphaela followed his example, running her hand through her long, auburn hair to order it. They caught their breath in silence until Raphaela cleared her throat.

"Sir, would you mind giving me advice?" she asked after a moment.

"Advice?" Fado almost laughed. After everything that happened in the last hour alone, he was certainly the last person who could give anyone good advice.

"Yes, sir. I believe you would be the best person to help me with my problem." Fado looked at the young woman; she was very serious and sitting straight, her legs crossed, and it was easy to picture her in a fine dress, commanding a whole ballroom of people.

"Well, I can't betray such trust." He nodded and turned his full attention on her.

"Do you remember my 'protector', Sir Lajos?" Fado nodded; the young man had always been around her. "Well, I feel very harassed by him. He is always with me and I can't have even one minute of peace and quiet because he always comes and asks me if I need anything. In battle he is always around me and I've already almost killed him a dozen times because he throws himself in my line of fire to protect me." Raphaela sighed angrily. "I do find his dedication admirable, but this is too much. I have no privacy."

Fado understood her well. "Do you want me to put him in another unit?"

"No. Sir Karl already did that. Sir Lajos left his station to come to me."

"What?" Fado asked, shocked. He couldn't imagine any respectable knight would voluntarily leave their station without permission. It did not only mean potential danger for their comrades but also showed disrespect towards their commander.

"He did," Raphaela confirmed, "and he was punished for it. He didn't seem to be remorseful, though, and so I thought you might have a solution for this. Sir Lajos might annoy me, but I wish him no harm. I don't want to be responsible for his death the next time he jumps in front of me nor for the problems his disobedience may cause."

Fado nodded, his mind already going over possible ways to deal with this, and said: "I will take care of it."

"Thank you, sir," Lady Raphaela said and smiled; for a moment she looked like a young, unburdened and optimistic woman, but as soon as the smile disappeared, she was a completely different person, hardened and distrustful. She stood and bowed, taking the swords with her, and left. Fado remained in his seat and concentrated on her problem – it was the only one he could think about without getting lost in rage.

###

The sky was of a clear blue colour when Fado left his room. Some time after Raphaela had left, a soldier brought Fado his food. He guessed Iustus was too scared of him. Fado tried to feel bad for intimidating the boy so, but in reality he could only be annoyed. He might have let out his overflowing energy with Raphaela, but that didn't mean that his mind was freed from anger and hurt pride.

Those feelings retreated into the back of his mind, however, when he entered the room where Ephraim and the officers were meeting and overheard the Frelian messenger.

"Princess Eirika and Prince Innes are under attack in Jehanna by Grado forces led by Tiger Eye and Moonstone."

A cold shudder ran over Fado's back. Eirika! He had spared her little thought during the last days because there had only been good news about her and Prince Innes' progress and Hayden's boy was smart. He had trusted their competence completely. He was mortified that he had neglected her so much. Pain shot through his chest. How could he have been so self-centred?

"Caellach Tiger Eye and Valter Moonstone," Seth said thoughtfully. "Why were they not in Grado to protect the emperor?" Ephraim glanced at the general, a grim understanding in his eyes. Fado didn't get it, but he was also thinking more about Eirika.

He hadn't seen her since the day he had sent her away. The last thing he saw of her was a look of desperation, of pleading and of grief. This should not be his most recent memory of her. He shook his head. No, I will not let her die. Not my little girl.

"What are we waiting for?" he said loudly. They obviously hadn't noticed his entrance; some of them openly startled. Ephraim nodded grimly.

"Seth, ready the men. We'll ride immediately."

"B-but even if we leave now, we will not make it in time…" the messenger objected.

"We will make it," Ephraim answered confidently and was already walking out of the room. "Eirika won't give up and there's no way I'll let my sister die."

###

Seth readied the army in record time and they rode through the night. Only in the early morning hours, they rested under the bare sky. The land was already greatly changed; vegetation became sparse and the ground grew sandy. Most trees were stocky and the leaves dark. The army followed the stone street until it started to disappear beneath the bright yellow sand. Whoever had a rain cloak slipped it on at that point to protect themselves from the merciless sun.

Someone had surrendered their cloak to Fado and he hoped that that person wouldn't be burned too much, but he couldn't say he wasn't grateful for his privilege at the moment. He enjoyed warmth and the sun as much as the next person, but he couldn't stand the desert. And after the exhausting journey from Grado Keep to Jehanna, he was extremely tired, cranky and worried senselessly. He hadn't been able to sleep during the short pause; he was too busy wondering what was happening to Eirika. The fact that Ephraim seemed to be well rested had made everything worse. Fado wasn't sure if the boy was actually that confident that Eirika would be alright or if he could just mask his worry better.

Fado sighed and cast a glance upwards. The sun glared down at him and the air was shimmering and twisting from the heat – it wasn't even noon yet. His body was bathed in sweat and Fado yearned to rip his clothes off. He'd rather be in the Borgo Range and almost freeze to death than here. With another sigh, he looked around.

The soldiers didn't fare better. Most of the knights had stripped off their armour and some had dismounted. Their horses were trotting slowly and unwillingly next to them; they weren't faring well. Fado hoped they wouldn't lose any of them. They had no replacements. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he grabbed his water skin and took a deep gulp.

The journey continued, accompanied by the groaning of the men and the wheezing of the horses, for several hours. Thanks to the slight wind, Fado's sweaty face was soon caked with sand and his mare almost lost her footing a dozen times on the slippery ground because she was getting sand in her eyes. Fado's water skin was long empty and his patience worn thin when the pegasus scout was finally returning with good news.

"Prince Ephraim, the enemy is ahead," the young woman said; her face and arms were bright red.

"Good," Ephraim answered. "Seth, gather the men. Tell the cavaliers who can fight on foot to leave their horses here. Those who can't will be stationed around the village. According to the map the ground's firmer there." Seth nodded and walked off.

Fado slowly dismounted as well and licked his chapped lips. He couldn't see Jehanna Hall from here; it was still a few dunes away. His feet already wanted to set into motion and run towards the battlefield. He needed to save Eirika; it was his duty as her parent. And what could she do? She had surely lost many of her men to the two Gradian armies already and was overwhelmed. And considering the dark powers behind Grado… She would be almost defenceless.

Fado was distracted from his thoughts by a movement at his side; Ephraim was casting off his cloak and readied his lance. He was grimly squinting ahead – the sand was gleaming in the sunlight. He still looked calm and confident.

"Ephraim," Fado started, but hesitated when his son turned to him. I need to come with you, he almost wanted to say.

"If you're only going to throw your life away, we should've let them execute you and spent our time on saving someone worthy!"

"Please save your sister," he whispered instead and he was too tired to hide his anxiety and the regret he felt at not being able to help her. Not wanting to hear Ephraim's response, he turned, clasped the cloak around himself and trotted towards the wagons.

His place was not on the battlefield. He could only wait and endure. Soldiers marched past him, all looking weary and sun-burnt. How Fado wished he could be one of them; then he could go and actually do something to keep his family safe, but he was absolutely useless. He flopped down on the hot sand in the shadow of a wagon and slumped. He found no energy to keep up a confident facade. Not after that journey and the reminder of his powerlessness and what Karl had thrown at him two days ago. Was it already two days ago? Time seemed to fly by and Fado felt incredibly old.

"The scrap heap is where I belong," he mumbled lowly. He forced himself to look towards anywhere but Jehanna Hall and the battle. At first he looked east where, a good two hundred kilometres away, was the sea. The air there would be slightly salty and moist, but pleasantly fresh and cool. Fado wondered if it was already time for mussels and sea crabs. That thought, though, only reminded him of his missed breakfast and of better, peaceful times, so he turned south.

Immediately, he was assaulted by memories of Vigarde's death. Fado lowered his head, blinking quickly to hide his tears. He suddenly felt cold, despite the heat around him that was still distorting the air. No matter where he looked, Fado would be reminded of something hurtful. He stood up and resolved to find something that would distract him.

He walked from one wagon to the other, acting as if he was controlling them, but in reality he was looking for Linnéa. Speaking with her had always helped him. Instead, though, he found Iustus sitting in a wagon, measuring herbs and making potions. Fado hesitated for a second before he clumsily heaved himself into the wagon.

Iustus startled terribly. "O- oh, sir, I didn't notice you." He scrambled to make space and clean up his things, but Fado ignored his fussing.

"What are you doing?" Fado asked as he sat down.

"I'm making potions," Iustus answered, stuttering slightly. "We used up most of them. And I almost collapsed earlier so Father Moulder said I should stay here." He blushed pink.

"Do you need help?" Iustus stared at Fado with wide eyes. His emotions openly played over his face; he found it incredible that Fado would want to help him, was unsure if it was proper to accept the help of a king, and he was a bit scared. Fado's insides twisted with shame. Lately, he had just been horrible to the poor boy – despite his countless resolves to treat him better. Iustus was just doing his best to help and survive. It was not fair that he was only earning scorn for his efforts. "Two people make more potions than one," Fado added with a shaky smile.

"Of course, sir," Iustus mumbled and moved around a few instruments. He placed a set of scales and three bags of dried herbs in front of Fado. "I need two and a half grammes of the willow bark, one gramme of the hayflowers, but only use the petals, I don't need the stems now. And a half gramme of the field horsetail." Fado nodded slowly, trying to remember everything.

As Iustus pulled his vials and bottles of strange-smelling liquids closer, Fado grabbed the small measuring spoons and let some of the dried willow bark trickle on the scales. The work was pleasantly dull but still demanded a bit of attention so Fado's mind couldn't stray. They worked in a silence that soon lost its awkwardness and strain and became amiable.

Fado didn't count the number of potions Iustus bottled until they heard a loud screech. Fado startled and looked up at the cloth ceiling of the wagon. A wyvern. A cold shudder ran over his back. Was that a scream of triumph as a wyvern ripped apart his little daughter while she was distracted by some dark magic? Fado swallowed and quickly lowered his head. His hand trembled as he measured the next batch of hayflowers.

Another scream pierced the air and Fado spilled the dried herb he was just handing Iustus. He was sure he was looking terrible if Iustus' expression was anything to go by. The boy cleaned up the spilled herb, watching Fado the whole time, while Fado tried to ignore him. His hand was sweating terribly and by the Goddess, did he want to run out and over to the battlefield to see what was happening. Not knowing what was going on was slowly killing him.

"Tell me something." His voice sounded strange in the strained silence.

"What?" Iustus asked confused.

"Just tell me something." To distract me from the thought that my daughter might be dead already and I'm just sitting here. Instead Fado swallowed hard and grabbed the dried field horsetail. Iustus slowly straightened and poured a clear, sweet-smelling liquid into his mortar. He hemmed and hawed for a moment.

"Well, you see, Durant – the village I come from – is really small. Our convent is also really small and we had no separate orphanage so the few children – never more than seven – lived there with us. I'm the oldest and so I had to watch the others often. But I was really bad at it."

Fado listened carefully for any other wyvern screams or the talking of men who had news from the battlefield. They would surely send someone to tell them to flee if the battle went wrong, wouldn't they?

"So the kids would always do what they wanted when the abbot wasn't there to help me – sir, that's too much hayflowers –" Fado startled and almost spilled the herb again, "but after the story with the farm they trusted me more." Fado swallowed and tried to focus his mind on the scales. "You see, a year ago or so, I think it was autumn as well or spring, because the nights were still a bit cold but not so bad that you had to heat all night long."

Fado regretted asking Iustus to talk because he couldn't listen to any strange noises, but a part of him was happy that the boy was talking so loudly.

"There was one girl in the orphanage, Tekla, who was always pestering the others or instigating some mischief. She was very wild and sometimes stole my books." Iustus blushed lightly. "But she always said she just wanted to get my attention so I didn't tell the abbot or punished her. Her hair was bright red, really pretty, but also very fuzzy and tangled.

"Well, one day Tekla had a quarrel with Jago, who was a year younger than her, and she dared him to spend one night in an old, desolate farmhouse. I've heard them and tried to forbid it, but they didn't listen to me, of course." Iustus sighed deeply. Just as he made a pause to take a deep breath, there was another wyvern screech; Fado flinched and this time he shifted involuntarily as if he wanted to stand up.

"Jago left at midnight," Iustus quickly continued and pushed a new bag of willow bark over to Fado. He relaxed slowly and unwillingly. "And Tekla and her little friend Felicitas – she was her tag-along, always at Tekla's heels – followed him to make sure he went to the farmhouse. I only noticed they were gone, because I woke up some time after they left and checked the rooms. When I saw that their beds were empty, I grabbed a lamp and went after them. I didn't even think about waking the abbot." Iustus laughed, embarrassed.

"The farmhouse, you see, was a bit outside of the village. You had to walk through a small copse of short trees. It was almost like a maze of leaves and they seemed to swallow the light of my lamp. It was so dark I could only see a few centimetres in front of me. As I walked through it, I could hear rustling from all around me. It sounded as if hundreds of bandits were following me and just waiting for the right moment to grab me." Iustus shuddered lightly. Fado looked up from his work for a moment. "I was bathed in cold sweat when I finally got through the copse and I still get tense when I walk by the trees today.

"Well, there was the farmhouse then. I think the owners had died some years earlier – I was too young then to remember it – and the house had been left to rot. That was rather sad; it probably was a pretty house. And they had a big field, at least in comparison to the other farmers. So, after a few storms, the house looked pretty bad and a tree had almost cleaved it in two. It was completely dark. I almost turned and fled when I saw something move in one of the windows. I almost," Iustus lowered his voice and blushed, "pissed myself. But it was only a rotten piece of a curtain."

Fado smiled sympathetically at the boy.

"So, I gathered all of my courage and went in. I was trembling so badly the lamp almost went out." Fado chuckled and he almost overheard a wyvern screech. Iustus cleared his throat. "The floor creaked terribly when I stepped in. At the same moment I heard someone move. I froze and prayed that it was only a rat or something. I could almost imagine that some vagabond was spending the night there. I carefully went further in, step for step, and every time the wood creaked like it would break any second.

"In the living-room, there were a few rotting pieces of furniture. I raised the lamp to see better and in that moment, I saw something move in the corner of my eyes. I jumped and screamed and almost let my lamp fall!

"'Iustus?' they asked and I relaxed. But my heart was in my throat! It was Tekla and with her were Feli – that was Felicitas' nickname – and Jago. 'What'cha doing here?' she asked and put her fists on her hips like so," Iustus showed Fado and pulled a pouting face, "and I told them that I was there to get them home.

"'No, Jago gotta show he's not scared,' she answered. Jago looked like he had just seen a ghost when they stepped out of their hiding, but now he was puffing out his chest.

"'Yeah, I gotta be a man,' he said. I tried my best," Iustus sighed and Fado smiled secretly as he measured the next batch of herbs, "but they just wouldn't listen to me. I wished I had woken the abbot after all. Then this would've been over more quickly.

"'Either you stay,' Tekla then said, 'or go home. We're gonna stay.' And Tekla always did what she said she would do. So the only thing I could do was to stay with them to make sure they don't hurt themselves. They seemed happy with that and wanted to explore the house with me. I would've liked it if they would just stay in the living-room, because it seemed stable enough, but…" He sighed again and shook his head.

"So I followed them into the kitchen and asked them why they wanted to explore the farmhouse of all places. Staying in the forest all alone seemed scarier to me. Not that the house was not scary enough." Iustus shuddered.

"'Because Lilli died here and haunts the house,' Tekla explained to me. You see, Lilli was the daughter of the tailor in Durant and she disappeared for a while a few weeks prior to our little adventure. The villagers looked for her for a day or two but didn't find her. And the children of the village began to say that they heard her crying in the old farmhouse. Or that they saw her playing in the rooms under the roof, but that she was walking through the walls and furniture." Iustus chuckled. "But she was actually just sent to her grandparents in Frelia. She just ran away a few days before they were supposed to leave and hid in the farm house. She was found by her father after two days and her mother then took her to Frelia. Her father followed them a few days later. The adults knew what had happened, but most children were already so convinced that their story of the ghost Lilli was true that they thought the adults were lying to them. To reassure them."

Iustus shook his head and quickly counted the many bottles standing next to him.

"So they wanted to spend the night with a ghost?" Fado asked.

"Yes," Iustus answered with a chuckle. "And since they hadn't seen her yet, they wanted to search for her."

"And you didn't tell them that Lilli was alive?"

"I tried! But they didn't listen to me." Iustus sighed. Fado laughed openly this time. "So, when they were finished inspecting the kitchen, we went back into the living-room. I tried to talk them into leaving now, because nothing was happening and this was just an empty, old house. I almost had Jago and Feli agreeing with me when we suddenly heard something.

"The wood over our heads was creaking, like someone was walking through the rooms. We all froze and I heard Jago and Feli whimper in fright. One of them clutched my robe. But I was just as terrified. 'There's something up there,' Tekla whispered excitedly. And before I knew what was happening, she ran out of the room to the stairs.

"I can tell you, I don't think I was ever so terrified as in that second. There could be who-knows-who up there. A violent vagabond, a bandit, a wild animal! I called after her, though I regretted it instantly. I only gave away that there were other persons in the house."

"But you did follow her?" Fado asked, his gaze not leaving Iustus, and blindly grabbed for the horsetail.

"Of course. I almost couldn't walk straight because my legs were shaking so much, but I did follow her. With Jago and Feli at my heels. The stairs were really decayed and I thought I would break through each time I put my weight on one. Thankfully, we arrived at the top without an accident.

"We didn't hear the footsteps anymore when we arrived on first floor. I carefully called Tekla again, but she didn't answer. 'She's not hurt, is she?' Feli asked and clung to me. 'I don't think so,' I answered, but I wasn't so sure. Half of the first floor was destroyed and inaccessible because of the tree. We sneaked into the first room and I raised my lamp.

"'Tekla?' I called again. 'Yes?' she said happily and suddenly appeared to our right. All three of us screamed or squeaked in surprise. I think Feli wetted herself; the whole thing really traumatised her. She wouldn't go near that farmhouse for months afterwards. 'There's some old books here,' Tekla continued as if nothing just happened.

"'Come out there,' I said and I was starting to get angry at her. She was acting like this was just as harmless as playing in the backyard of our convent. Well, she was only seven, but still. I told her that we had to get back, but she only stuck her tongue out and ran towards the tree top. 'Wait!' I called after her and almost followed her, when we heard a loud 'crack'."

"The floor broke?" Fado guessed, cringing. The herbs and scales were long forgot.

"Yeah, it did." Iustus pulled a pained grimace. "Tekla screamed in panic and I think she hurt herself pretty badly. She managed to get a hold on the broken wood and screamed for me. I told her to hold on and very carefully crawled over to her. I could feel the planks bending under my weight. I was sweating horribly and I wished I had never come out here. Tekla was crying the whole time. 'Help me,' she wailed and first I wanted to grab her and pull her out, but as soon as I put a bit more weight on my knees, the floor creaked ominously. Feli and Jago were also crying by now.

"'Don't worry,' I said to Tekla and crawled back towards the hallway and the stairs. 'Where're you going?' Tekla cried as if I had just gutted her." Iustus shuddered at his words. "'I'll go in the living-room and save you from there,' I said, but that didn't calm her. She cried loudly the whole time it took me to get Jago and Feli down the stairs. They were so frightened that they listened to me and stayed by the door while I tried to save Tekla. I saw her legs hanging into the kitchen. I carefully grabbed her legs and told her to let go. At first she refused to and said I would let her fall.

"'I would never do that,' I assured her. It took some more coaxing, but eventually she let go and fell into my arms. Her face was smeared over with snot and tears, and her belly and arms were scratched, but all in all she looked alright.

"I had to carry her back home and Jago had to hold the lamp – after we were out of the house, he was suddenly boisterous and tough again." Amused, Iustus shook his head. "So we got back. The abbot was already awake when we came back. One of the other children woke up during the night and noticed that we were gone. I think he was just about to leave for the village to get some men to help finding us. After Tekla was patched up, we all got to hear a terribly long tongue-lashing. I've never seen the abbot so angry and worried."

Iustus sighed, pleased. "We were all punished, but at least the children began to listen to me afterwards." He grinned. "I never want to repeat that experience, but I think it was worth it in the end."

Fado chuckled. "At least it's a good story."

Iustus nodded, blushing again. "Thank you," he mumbled. He quickly grabbed one of his bottles and, in his haste to hide his embarrassment, he spilled some of its clear content. He squeaked lowly and dabbed the strong-smelling liquid away. Fado shook his head and finally returned his attention to the scales.

Time passed amiably again with both of them busy with their tasks. Fado didn't feel such a great urge to listen for news from the battlefield anymore and Iustus was humming under his breath. Eventually, Fado heard someone call for him.

His heart beating against his throat, he quickly jumped out of the wagon. A soldier with dark red skin – the poor man would be in much pain for the next days – looked for him.

"Sir!" He saluted and winced when his hand met his forehead. "Prince Ephraim sends for the convoy. They've made camp in Fort Olor."

Fado felt his heart and stomach flutter. "What about Princess Eirika?"

"She is with His Royal Highness," the man answered and seemingly didn't notice what that simple sentence did to Fado. An incredible weight fell from his shoulders and he wanted to hug the whole world and laugh and preferably walk to the fort right now to see his little girl.

He turned on his heels and ran to the front of the convoy. "Sir Jonah!" The old Frelian turned at the call. "Make ready to leave."

"Yessir."

A/N: I'm sorry that it took me so long to post this chapter. To be honest, I completely forgot about this fic. Thank you, FireEmblemNerd , for reminding me of it. I haven't really worked on this fic the last two years and it wasn't just because of Writer's Block. Real life happened and my own depression flared up. I was able to deal with it and I'm in a much better emotional place right now. That, however, makes it hard to start writing this. I put much of my own dealings with depression into this fic and I am, frankly, a bit afraid of getting into Fado's mindset again. I don't want to trigger anything. But I also don't want to leave this story open-ended like this. And I don't believe that it's good for me to be afraid of it.

In the end that means that I will start writing this again, but don't expect a regular update schedule. I'm trying, but I want to be cautious. And I need to get back into Fado's head first anyway.

I want to thank all of you who read this story and waited for this chapter. Sorry for the long wait. I heart all of you.