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No.
Bernadetta couldn’t remember starting to run. She was vaguely aware of someone yelling her name, but that didn’t matter right now.
No. NO!
It was as if she was on rails. She was sprinting in earnest now, barely noticing anything else around her. Something whizzed by her shoulder, ruffling her hair, and she glanced over to see a Kingdom soldier knocking another arrow.
She was faster. She was always faster.
The bowman had barely begun drawing back the string when her first arrow thudded into his chest, sending him staggering backward. She didn’t even look to see where the second arrow hit, but the awful cry and gurgle that followed it told her maybe she didn’t want to know. She kept running. Maybe there was still time. Maybe she could fix this. Maybe she was only doing this to try and prove she wasn’t as much of a monster as she felt like she was.
Oh, Goddess. What have I done?
-
Garreg Mach really was the worst place for her. Open spaces, crowds of people, all of the noise… It was torture. Ironically, finding sanctuary in the monastery was almost impossible. There were, however, a few glorious islands of respite. Her room, the greenhouse—when Dedue wasn’t in there, anyway. Even while gently tending to the flowers, he terrified her to her very core—and the library.
It was in this last bastion of solitude that she found herself late one evening, tucked into a corner desk with a stack of books to her left and a scribbled page of notes to her right. She’d been meaning to study riding techniques—the Professor was adamant that she’d excel at it if she only applied herself, which seemed unlikely—but, as ever, she’d fallen down the rabbit hole of old stories. Reading tales of valiant knights would surely teach her something about the equestrian arts, right? In reality, she’d given up on gaining anything from the evening apart from inspiration for her next drawing. Indeed, beneath half a page of sloppy, incoherent notes she’d started to draw the knight from the story she had open in front of her. She hummed contentedly as she traced the outline of his armour, before leaning in closer to add the fine details.
Drawing was one of the only things that truly relaxed her. While she was drawing, nothing else mattered. She could create any world she wanted, any reality she chose. A reality without all the chaos of this one, a reality without the trauma of her past…
A reality where people left her alone.
“Oh, hi, Bernadetta!”
Yelping in alarm, she snapped the old book shut and held it up in self defense with one swift movement, before cautiously peeking around the edge of it to see which villain had chosen this moment to come rampaging into her perfect evening. On this particular evening, her adversary was Ashe Ubert. He was standing by the front row of desks, lantern in hand, and was currently observing her with a small frown.
“Are,” Ashe said with a nervous twitch backwards “are you OK? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Ashe was picking his way through the desks towards her now. Maybe she could throw her book at him? That could give her enough time to make a bolt for the door… Except that by the time the thought had occurred to her, the window of opportunity had been firmly closed. Ashe was almost next to her, still holding his lantern up high to try and get a look at her face. “Bernadetta?” He frowned, stopping at the front of her desk.
“I-I’m fine! Really!” Bernadetta squeaked. In truth, she didn’t really know enough about Ashe Ubert to justify being afraid of him, but the fact that she didn’t know enough surely meant there had to be something sinister hiding behind his concerned expression. She subconsciously raised the book in her hands a few centimetres, putting it more firmly between the two of them and illuminating it in the light from Ashe’s lantern.
Ashe seemed firmly unconvinced, but shrugged slightly “Erm, OK, if you’re sure—” his eyes suddenly lit up “Hey, wait!”.
Oh no. Oh no. This is it, Bernie! Bernadetta’s brain froze with fear, her mouth dropping open and eyes wide in terror. She’d been wondering who would finally finish her off. She never would've guessed it was the friendly, studious boy from Faerghus. Felix, maybe, Hubert definitely , but…
“I love that book!” Chuckled Ashe, gesturing at the cover. “Loog and the Maiden of Wind, right?” To Bernadetta’s horror, he grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it over to the opposite side of the desk from her. Settling down comfortably on it, he set his lantern on the edge of the desk. Its light added to the dim glow coming from Bernadetta’s own perilously low-burning lantern, illuminating his earnestly enthusiastic face. She’d totally forgotten that her mouth was open, because Ashe now looked more concerned than ever. He gently lowered the book from between them and fixed her with—what he thought at least—was a kindly look. “I don’t mean to pry or anything, but are you sure you’re alright?”
Feeling foolish, Bernadetta clamped her mouth shut and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. This was her worst nightmare. It was bad enough when people tried to talk to her normally, but it was doubly worse when they were offering her help like this. She didn’t deserve it. Her mind whirred frantically, eager to find anything to think of anything to quell the anxious knot in her stomach. With him sitting between her and the door, she couldn’t just make a run for it. She’d need to talk her way out of this one. A task she was woefully under equipped for. “S-sorry! I was just… thinking. A-about Loog, I mean.”
Really?
“Yeah?” Ashe replied, beaming. That was most definitely not the response she had been expecting. He leaned forward excitedly, still grinning broadly. “I’ve loved the stories about him ever since I was a kid. He’s part of the reason I want to be a knight, actually. I think he’s a great example to all of us.” Ashe, Bernadetta thought, was full of surprises. This was the first time she’d ever exchanged more than a few words with him, and there was a simple sort of honesty to him that she hadn’t noticed before. She was still wary of him, but maybe, just maybe, she could trust him. The knot in her stomach loosened slightly.
-
Time was moving far too slowly. The seconds were stretching out like hours, and as each one passed, her panic only grew. The heat from the ground was causing the soles of her boots to melt, but she kept running. She had to keep running.
I can fix this. I promise, I can still fix this.
Every one of her muscles felt like they were on fire. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks evaporating in the sheer heat of the wind blowing through the valley. The seconds grew longer.
Please. Please let me fix this.
-
The longer they talked, the more that knot loosened. Ashe, Bernadetta learned, was actually a pretty pleasant person to be around. He had a relentless positivity about him that was almost infectious, and she found herself, to her surprise, actually enjoying their conversation. Ashe also had a near-encyclopedic knowledge of the many tales of Loog and other great knights of Faerghus, and she hung on his words as he told her his favourites. Occasionally, he’d interject with the lessons those tales had taught him, and how he carried them into his life now. In return, Bernadetta told him stories of valiant nobles of the Adrestian Empire, which Ashe listened to with his trademark enthusiasm. She wasn’t sure if she trusted him—she barely knew him after all—but she could feel herself wanting to.
She’d completely lost track of how long they’d been talking for, but just as she finished telling Ashe the story of Wilhelm Paul Hresvelg, her lantern finally sputtered and died. “Oh no!” She squeaked. Ashe’s lantern was still going strong, so they had plenty of light for now, but she’d have to make it back to her room in the dark now. She was terrified of the dark. Looking up and out of the window, she could see the moon and stars shining down on them. It was probably almost midnight by now.
“What is it?” Ashe asked her, frowning at her expression. “What’s wrong?” He followed her gaze to her now-useless lantern and let out a small “Oh” of comprehension.
“Can... can I borrow your lantern?” Bernadetta pleaded “I-I promise I’ll give it back!” To her surprise, Ashe’s concerned frown melted into a look of fear.
“I, ah, I mean that’s… Um…” He stammered back at her, eyes flicking left and right. He was properly panicking now, and Bernadetta knew that feeling well.
“Ashe, are you afraid of the dark?” She began, before realising how rude that was and internally cursing herself. “Ah, I’m sorry! No, that’s... “ She scrambled out, mind whirring with half-baked apologues that could smooth this over. Good job, Bernie. Way to insult the first person who’s been kind to you in ages.
Ashe blushed, but gave a nervous little chuckle “No, it’s… Well, it’s ghosts.” He swallowed noticeably ”I’m afraid of ghosts. Pathetic, right?” He said, with an apologetic grin.
She stared blankly at him for a second, before a wave of relief crashed into her and she giggled. He grinned sheepishly back at her, rubbing the back of his neck with a free hand and blushing even harder. “S-sorry! I didn’t mean to laugh, it’s just that… well…” She searched for the right words, the corner of her mouth still twitching “That’s sort of the reason I wanted the lantern. I’m scared of ghosts too. What a pair we make, huh?” A little voice yelling in her ear told her this was a mistake, she was showing weakness to a boy she barely knew. She tried her best to tune it out. Bernadetta knew fear when she saw it, and she’d seen it in Ashe’s eyes just now. He’d trusted her with that fear, so it seemed only fair to return the favour.
Ashe stared back at her for a second, then grinned lopsidedly “In that case, I think there’s only one thing to be done!” He rose to his feet and pointed to the book by Bernadetta’s side. “What did Kyphon say to Loog at the Battle of Itha?”
It was Bernadetta’s turn to stare now. The question was so completely out of the blue that she just blinked at Ashe, mind utterly blank. He gave her an encouraging smile, and she could feel her cheeks turning pink. “He, um… h-he said that the best way for them to face the unknown was together.”
Ashe nodded, still smiling “How about we put that to the test now?” He extended a hand towards her, picking up his lantern with the other “Two knights on a quest to get back to our rooms. I think it’ll make a great story someday!”
Despite herself, Bernadetta laughed, and accepted Ashe’s hand up “Lead on then, Sir Ashe!” She giggled at him.
“R-right!” He stammered in response, quickly turning towards the exit and holding the lantern aloft. Its soft glow cast a dim light over the rest of the library, quiet and still in the evening air. Bernadetta suddenly realised that he was still holding her hand, and she jerked it back to her side. When he looked over to see what was going on, she busied herself with scooping her belongings up off of the desk.
“Can’t forget my books!” She said, with what she was sure was a thoroughly unconvincing smile. The voice from earlier was yelling in her ear once more. Stop. You’ll just embarrass yourself again. Cradling her books and papers to her chest with both arms, the only expression she could muster for Ashe was a small nod.
For a second, Bernadetta could’ve sworn she saw Ashe’s smile falter, but he recovered quickly. He gave her a nod of his own, and started off in the direction of the doorway, beckoning her to come with him. Bernadetta hesitated for a second, then deciding that chancing the dark with Ashe was a better prospect than chancing it alone, she followed in his wake.
The second floor corridor was completely deserted as they picked their way towards the staircase. Not even Manuela was up and about at this time of night, and the rest of the faculty had long since retired. The silence pressed in upon the two students, and before long it became far too much for Bernadetta to bear.
“So, uh, what brings you to the academy?” She whispered, terrified to raise her voice any more than strictly necessary unless some unseen horror lay in wait for them. Her fear of the dark was far outweighing her fear of making a fool of herself with banal questions by now, regardless of how dull they made Ashe think she was.
“Well,” Ashe’s voice was quiet and steady, but the lantern was shaking in his trembling hand “I guess in a way, Loog did. Mainly my adoptive father, Lonato, but Loog definitely had a hand in that too.” They had reached the intersection between the corridor and the large doors leading to the main chamber where Lady Rhea conducted her services. Ashe scanned the darkness ahead, took a deep breath, and forged on towards the stairs. “I didn’t have the best childhood. My parents died when I was young, and I had to provide for my younger brother and sister.” Bernadetta watched Ashe carefully, not wanting to interrupt. His expression had changed from fear to determination. She had no idea why he was opening up like this to her, of all people, but she knew catharsis when she saw it. He glanced down at her, and she offered him a small smile in response. Pausing to swing the lantern towards the bottom of the stairs—they had descended the first flight and the darkness of the corridor at the bottom of the second was leering at them—Ashe took another breath, smiled tightly at her and carried on.
“Those days were… hard. I did a lot of things I’m not proud of.” He stopped again at the bottom of the second flight of stairs. Bernadetta had the sense that his trepidation had little to do with ghosts.
“We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, Ashe. Trust me.” Bernadetta muttered. The voice started up again, but she was doing her best to ignore it. She forced herself to meet his gaze, no matter how much she wanted to run.
Ashe’s free hand twitched, but stilled by his side. He gave her a small smile before turning the lantern towards the doors leading to the dormitories and continuing on. After looking to the side to check she was still there, he breathed out and once again the determined expression took over his face. “I remember the first time I saw Loog and the Maiden of Wind. I was nine. I—” he blushed again “I couldn’t read. I’d never had the time or the opportunity to learn. All I knew was the knight on the cover looked like everything I’d ever wanted to be. Strong, brave, kind… the sort of person who’d help out, well, people like who I was back then. People who’d been left behind. That’s when Lord Lonato found me.” A smile, a genuine smile, split Ashe’s face. “He brought me and my brother and sister in. He taught us how to read, taught us the value of chivalry and taught us that the most important thing that anyone can do is protect the people who need it most. I’ve spent my whole life since then trying to be as good a knight—and as good a person—as he is. The academy is my next step towards that.”
“That’s... “ Bernadetta looked up at Ashe, struggling for words “a lot. I-in a good way! I, ah, thanks! I mean, that’s way more than I expected!” She didn’t hear the voice this time, but she felt it. It was shaking its head at her disdainfully. Steadying herself with a breath, she closed her eyes for a second before looking back up into Ashe’s face. “Thank you. I mean it. You’re… I think you’re a good person already. I hope you know that.” The voice was positively screaming now, and it was taking all of her willpower to block it out.
Ashe blushed a deep crimson, and stared at a point several feet to the right of them “I, ah, I mean… thanks.” Once again, his free hand reached up to scratch the back of his neck. He cast his eyes around a few times before lamely gesturing to his left “You, erm, I mean you’re here now.”
Bernadetta looked to where Ashe was pointing, and with a start realised that she was standing outside of her room. “Oh!” She squeaked. Every instinct told her to make a run for it and shut herself in, but as soon as she put her hand on the door she froze. At her hesitation, the voice turned into a storm in her head. Quit while you’re ahead. He probably thinks you’re worthless anyway. Why confirm it for him?
She shook her head, and sucked in a lungful of air. No. Genuine kindness of the like Ashe had shown her had proven far and few between in her life, and he deserved kindness in return. She thought about what he’d told her on the walk back, and made her mind up. “Ashe? I, uh… I want you to have this.” She riffled through the papers in her arms and drew out the drawing of Loog she’d done in the library. It wasn’t quite as polished as she’d like—and it still had half a page of nonsensical notes on horse riding above it—but talking to Ashe had given her a surge of reckless bravado and she was just giddy enough to ride the wave.
Ashe blinked in surprise, taking the paper from Bernadetta’s trembling hand. Time stood still for her as he looked at it, and once again she had to fight the urge to escape to the precious sanctuary of her room. She was poised on the balls of her feet, ready to pounce, when he looked back up at her. To her immense shock, Ashe was smiling, with the spectre of tears hanging in his eyes.
“It’s… it’s great. Really. This means a lot. Thanks, Bernadetta”
Her brain broke. He liked it? The voice told her that he couldn’t. She wasn’t worth his praise. She tried to answer him, but the voice laughed in her ear and she made a noise like a mouse caught in an owl’s eyeline.
“Sorry? I didn’t quite catch that?”
Bernadetta looked into Ashe’s kindly eyes, took a deep breath, and the voice faded. “Bernie,” she replied, cheeks flushed “my friends call me Bernie.”
-
After what seemed like an age, she finally reached him. Dropping her bow and skidding to the floor to kneel down beside him as he lay on his back, Bernadetta looked into Ashe’s face for the first time in five years. Even by his standards, he was pale. Static started to fill the edges of her brain. The voice—quieter now than it was when she was younger, but more practiced with its barbs—whispered in her ear again. Good work, Bernie. Nice job. Swallowing, she glanced down towards his chest.
Towards the arrow sticking out of it.
The arrow with very familiar purple-gray fletchings.
It had all happened so fast. Bernadetta and the rest of the resistance army were on a secret mission to Ailell to rendezvous with Judith von Daphnel in order to pick up some much-needed supplies and reinforcements, but things had gone to hell almost immediately. Eager to show their allegiance to the Empire, House Rowe had somehow gotten wind of their plans and had stage an ambush, trapping them at the bottom of the valley and cutting them off from House Daphnel’s forces. Half of the resistance forces had gone on an intercept course with Lord Gwendal—the venerable knight who served as the head of House Rowe—while the other half had pushed to the north in order to break the lines and let House Daphnel through.
Bernadetta found herself in the northbound body of troops, with the Professor giving her orders to take out the enemy snipers. The heat haze rising up from the valley floor was terrible for visibility, and the floor itself was so hot she barely had time to steady her aim before it became unbearable, but she’d made steady progress. As she went, she reflected on happier times to try and calm her fried nerves. A time where Petra had smiled at her while teaching her how to hunt, a time where Ferdinand had apologised profusely and promised to be a better friend to her through her closed door on one of her bad days… She had just been thinking about the time a boy with gray hair and kind eyes had helped her back to her room, when the heat haze shifted and she saw her final arrow thud into his chest.
Her vision swam in front of her, and the static grew louder. She could feel the panic building in her like lightning, threatening to burn away any sense of where she was and what she was doing, when a weak voice brought her crashing back to the scorched valley floor.
“Hey, Bernie. Fancy seeing you here.” Ashe was smiling at her, although it looked like even that was costing a tremendous effort.
“Ashe, I… I’m… I didn’t know!” She could feel tears welling up in her eyes again “I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry!”
“It’s OK. You… didn’t hesitate.” He grunted in response “You were always faster than me. What’re you doing?”
Bernadetta had started going through her pack feverishly. Action. She needed action right now. There wasn’t time for anything else. If she stopped for even a second, she didn’t know if she could start again. ”Okay… Okay… I can’t take the arrow out. I don’t know if I… if it hit anything. Too dangerous.” She pawed over a sketchbook, some pencils and a few rations before finally pulling out what she was looking for; a small crystal vial. She unstoppered it with a shaking hand and held it out to him. “Here. Drink this. It’s a vulnerary.”
“Bernie…” Ashe began, before grunting in pain again and wincing. When he looked back at her, his eyes were filled with a strange sort of sadness that she felt had nothing to do with his injuries. “We’re on different sides, Bernie. I’m… I’m your enemy.”
“My friends call me Bernie.” She said in a small voice, not breaking eye contact. She was vaguely aware that the hand holding the vulnerary had stopped shaking now.
Slowly, Ashe lifted up a hand and took the vial from her. He looked at it with an expression that made her insides hurt, before he chugged down the contents of it in one painful gulp. His breathing soothed, and he stared down at the vial with a strange mixture of shame and an emotion she couldn’t quite place.
“I know you want answers, Ashe.” Her voice was still quiet, but it was steady. Despite everything, she felt calm. This felt right , and that wasn’t a feeling she was going to let go of without a fight. “I know you’re angry—and I don’t blame you—but you won’t find them like this. We can help.”
Ashe sighed, deflated. “All I’ve ever wanted to do is be a knight. I’ve spent my entire life chasing that dream.” He pounded the ground with his fist angrily, a frustrated tear sliding down his cheek “Lonato was the best man I ever knew and he… he’s gone. He’s gone and I still don’t know why. I don’t know if I can do this, Bernie.”
She leant over and picked up the hand he’d slammed into the ground with both of hers, cradling it between them and fixing him with a watery smile. She rarely felt like she ever knew the right thing to say, but right now only one thing seemed to make any sense. “What did Kyphon say to Loog at the Battle of Itha?”
Ashe blinked at her, then let out a low chuckle. “He said the best way for them to face the unknown was together. It’s just a story, Bernie. Life isn’t like that.”
“You said it to me once, do you remember?” She still hadn’t let go of his hand “Five years ago, in the library. You said our adventures would make a great story. I don’t think that story ends here. Not like this.”
“I remember.” He smiled back at her, his voice stronger now, then nodded. “I’ll try. I promise. If we make it out of here alive, we’ll write that story.”
She beamed at him, but before she could respond a sudden voice had her scrambling for her bow. “I’ve got you covered. Go!” She knew that voice, and the crackle of electricity that followed it confirmed it for her. Dorothea.
If she’s here, that means… Bernadetta looked up in time to see her suspicions were confirmed. The Professor—Sword of the Creator still in hand—was striding towards them purposefully from across the battlefield. Relief, true relief, filled her for the first time today. “Professor! It’s Ashe. He’s been shot.” She dropped his hand and gestured somewhat needlessly at the arrow still poking through Ashe’s armour. She tried hard not to look at it. The sight made her feel queasy.
The Professor’s piercing green eyes swept over the scene, hovering slightly on the distinctive fletchings of the arrow before snapping up to Ashe’s face. If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. Instead, she simply stowed her relic and knelt down beside Bernadetta, eyes still fixed upon Ashe. “Can you breathe?” She said calmly. Even in the sweltering heat and smoke of Ailell, her gaze was unblinking.
“Yeah. I think it hit a rib.”
His lungs. Oh, Goddess, his lungs. Bernadetta felt a little dizzy.
“Good. That makes it easier. We’ll need to take the arrow out before we can move you.” The Professor pulled her knife out of the sheathe on her belt, and held it up to her free hand. A small flame ignited in her palm, and she held the blade close to it, rotating it slightly.
“Professor, I…” Ashe began, but cut off, mouth still open. Bernadetta looked up, and felt her own mouth fall open slightly too. The Professor, her stoic, emotionless Professor, looked on the verge of tears. She looked sad, tired and… well, too many things all at once.
“I’m afraid this is going to hurt, Ashe. I’m sorry.” Her voice was almost a whisper, but clear as if she’d yelled it. “I’m so sorry.” Extinguishing the flame in her palm, she carefully cut through the fabric at the base of the arrow, before looking up at Bernadetta. The piercing stare had returned, but Bernadetta couldn’t help but see the ghost of something lurking in her eyes. “This could get a bit messy. Judith is up ahead, you can—”
“No. I’m not leaving.” The words left Bernadetta before she was even aware she was thinking about them. The Professor looked at her for a second, then nodded. It took about a second more for Bernadetta to regret not leaving, as the Professor began making a precise incision into Ashe’s chest. Her vision blurred again, but clarified at a sudden pressure in her hand. Ashe had grabbed ahold of it. She didn’t let go.
War is cruel. It was a mantra she had learned to repeat to herself over these last few years. She had worn it like armour against a broken world that made less and less sense each day. Even still, she knew deep down that, even if the war demanded she make herself into a monster, she wasn’t one. Each arrow was difficult, and each one took their toll. Right now, though, she had the opportunity to try and balance the scales a little. She knew she couldn’t save everyone. Ashe was right about one thing; life wasn’t always like the stories they read as kids. That didn’t mean she couldn’t try. She watched the Professor touch a glowing palm to Ashe’s chest after removing the arrow, and watched as the ugly wound Bernadetta had inflicted on him closed. The skin knit back together, pale and pristine, with only a small scar remaining to suggest anything had happened.
She would fix this. They would fix this. And when they did, they’d write the story together.