Chapter Text
Being an Emblem is definitely a unique sort of job.
It’s even more unique when you have roommates that you share memories with, in more than a ‘we were all there at the same time’ sort of way.
But Claude prides himself on his adaptability and his willingness to adjust on the fly. And now that he has an actual goal in mind for himself, and not just for serving Elyos as one third of the Emblems in the Bracelet of Three Houses, he’s ready to get to work immediately. It keeps him busy, and gives him something to focus on.
His first order of business is the promise he made to Dimitri, about figuring out exactly how many souls exist in the Bracelet of Three Houses. He’d sworn not to let on about Dimitri’s situation, or his secret. So he’ll need a ruse to work with to explain why he’s digging into it in the first place.
He has to be careful, because Teach is a wildcard that Alear can always double-check with. Claude isn’t sure if Teach ever learned about Dimitri’s ghosts or visions or whatever they are, and it’s not his secret to gamble with. Teach isn’t likely to rat them out—from Claude’s memories, at least, he’s fairly private.
But he’s also not loyal to Fódlan anymore, either. He serves the Divine Dragon and Elyos, as an Emblem. If Alear starts asking questions, Teach will probably answer.
That means crafting an airtight lie out of available truths. Fortunately, the art of half-truths and subtle lies is something Claude is particularly skilled at.
It doesn’t take long to get the Divine Dragon’s attention. Emblems are limited in how far they can get from the Emblem Rings or Bracelets. But something about the magic of the Somniel allows Emblems to go farther from their fancy jewelry than anywhere else on the continent, and manifest for far longer.
It means it’s very easy to simply wait for their so-called deity to stroll by on the Somniel while overseeing tasks. Claude manages to catch him on his way to the orchard with a basket in his hands, presumably to do his share of the chores.
Claude’s always liked Alear, which he hadn’t anticipated, with a title like “Divine Dragon” and a gaggle of followers treating him like a literal god wherever he goes. As a general rule, Claude tends to regard most forms of religion with skepticism. Especially when it demands the worship of specific individuals who obviously benefit from that attention.
But Alear, despite being a supposed deity, never acts like one. He’s certainly unusual looking, with his mismatched eyes and oddly patterned hair. And the way his eldest steward speaks, he’s apparently at least part dragon.
(Claude has…uncomfortable memories buried deep in his head about creatures like that, but he doesn’t dig too deeply, for fear of tearing himself apart).
And yet, despite his followers continually lavishing him with attention, he repeatedly asks them to treat him like any other person. He does his share of the chores, he fights alongside the others, and he’s friendly and understanding. He takes the time to listen to the different stories and cultures of the various kingdoms here, learn everything about them, and take care of those people without any biases. And the rare person who isn’t inclined to worship at his feet isn’t punished for it, unless they’re actively engaging in something harmful.
Claude appreciates that. He has no interest in worshiping Alear or any other ‘Divine Dragon’ while he’s here, but he figures a down-to-earth deity is better than one with his head in the clouds. A god at the level of his people understands their needs and wants, and better knows how to protect them.
So it’s easy enough to pull Alear aside for a quick chat. The Bracelet wielder is busy having dinner and lets them have a private conversation. And while Alear’s inevitable gaggle of wide-eyed worshippers follow at a distance, they’re at least polite enough to stay away while their divinity chats with an Emblem. Even if a few of them do tend to glare at Claude for speaking so casually around their god.
“Glad I could catch you,” Claude says with a smile. “I’ve been meaning to ask for your help.”
“Of course,” Alear says, setting down his basket. “How can I be of service?”
“Well,” Claude begins, settling into his chosen story, “you’ve probably figured it out by now, but me and the other two are a bit… newer to this whole ‘Emblem’ thing than some of the others.”
Alear chuckles a little. “I did get that impression, yes. Though I can hardly blame you. So much of this is new to me too. I hope I’ve been able to help the three of you get along better.”
“Oh, you’ve been doing great,” Claude says encouragingly. “This morning, I let Dimitri tell a whole story without interrupting him once!”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Alear says. “But in that case, what is it that you need help with?”
“To tell you the truth, I’m actually wondering if we’re missing someone,” Claude says. “See, the ‘Bracelet of Three Houses’ is actually a misleading name. The Officer’s Academy actually had four.”
Alear blinks. “It did?”
“Sure,” Claude says. “You can ask Teach if you want, about the Ashen Wolves.”
“Teach…oh! You mean the Emblem of the Academy. Byleth.”
“That’s him,” Claude agrees. “The Fourth House was sort of a special case. They weren’t officially part of the curriculum, and they had no specific country they were attached to. But they were set up by the Church of Seiros, and members could audit classes with the rest of us. They had a leader too—his name was Yuri.” He shrugs. “But I haven’t seen him around in the Bracelet. I’m wondering if we’re missing an Emblem. Can you check if there are any other souls in the Bracelet with us? Maybe they weren’t awakened?”
Alear looks politely puzzled by this. “The invocation should have awakened everyone,” he says.
“Ah, the ‘emblem of rivals’ thing?” Claude asks. “Well, Yuri wasn’t strictly a rival of ours. He did his own thing. But he was still a House Leader. You see where my confusion comes in?”
“I see,” Alear says thoughtfully. “I suppose I can check again, just to be safe. The presence inside your Bracelet was complicated when I first searched for the invocation…but at the time, I hadn’t realized there would be more than one of you.”
“We are a special case,” Claude agrees cheerfully. “If you could check if there’s anyone else in there with us, I’d appreciate it. Yuri’d be furious if he’s been snoozing this whole time when he could be creating a whole new underground network.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Never mind. If he’s here, you’ll learn soon enough.”
Alear looks baffled, but dutifully requests the Bracelet from its current wearer. He turns the Bracelet—a solid affair of black, with gold etchings resembling the Officer’s Academy uniforms—over in his hand once with a thoughtful hum, before folding it between his fingers and closing his eyes. Claude floats alongside him and waits patiently, letting him concentrate.
It takes about a minute, but then Alear’s brows raise thoughtfully. “There is more than one invocation aligned with this Bracelet,” he says.
Claude’s heart sinks a little at that. Or it would, if he still had one. “Is that so?” he says, feigning interest. “Can you call’em? Just to be sure?” If there really are ghosts tormenting Dimitri…
Well, if they really do exist, then they’ll just find some way to deal with it.
Alear nods once. “I believe they are personal invocations, for each individual in the Bracelet of Three Houses,” he says. He opens his eyes, and in a louder, more commanding voice, says, “Stand firm, Emblem of the Red Dawn!”
There’s a pulse of some kind of power from Alear, and the Bracelet pulses in kind. A moment later, Edelgard appears in a flash of blue sparks, floating alongside Claude with a surprised look on her face.
“What is this?” she asks.
“Testing a theory,” Claude says, with a jaunty wave. “Y’know how the Academy actually had four Houses? I asked Alear to figure out how many souls are in the Bracelet. See if Yuri’s kicking around with us.”
Edelgard’s eyes widen a fraction as she catches on immediately. She nods. “A fine idea,” she agrees. “If there are others from our world, their help would be most beneficial.”
“Try the next one,” Claude encourages.
Alear nods. “Bring change, Emblem of the Golden Skies!”
Another pulse of power, and another pulse from the Bracelet. Claude grunts as something pulls at him, insistently drawing his attention. But he’s already there, in front of the summoner, and so nothing happens.
“I think that one was me,” he reports dutifully. “Hi. I’m Emblem Claude.”
Alear chuckles slightly. “A pleasure to meet you again,” he says.
“Any others?”
Alear nods. “Be vigilant, Emblem of the Azure Moon!”
Another pulse, and this time Dimitri appears in a burst of magic, floating alongside Edelgard. He looks positively baffled. “Was I…summoned again?”
Claude, who is very glad now that he created such an airtight excuse but getting a little tired of repeating it, says, “Alear’s digging for souls in the Bracelet. Remember Yuri? He was a House Leader, too.”
“His assistance would be useful,” Edelgard adds. “Claude thought it would be a good idea to see if anyone remained unawakened besides us.”
“I…see,” Dimitri says softly. His difficulty with expressions makes his reaction hard to spot. The way manifesting changes his eyes and makes them glow makes it even harder. But Claude still notes the way he pales, and the way his eyes flicker to the world around them.
They’re here, Claude notes. He’s seeing them. The question is, will the Divine Dragon?
“Any others?” Claude prompts.
Alear frowns, closing his eyes again to concentrate. He’s silent for almost a minute, fingers still folded around the Bracelet, brows furrowed in thought.
But at last he shakes his head, opening his eyes. “I sense no other presences in here,” he says, holding the Bracelet in his palm.
“Just us three?” Claude clarifies. “Absolutely nobody else?”
“None,” Alear says. “I apologize. I searched, but now that I understand each of your presences, I was able to tell them apart. There is no other soul hidden in this Bracelet. I am sorry you won’t be able to see your other friend.”
Claude sighs, just enough to be realistically dramatic. “Damn,” Claude says. “And here I was, hoping I’d have someone on my side who actually understands the usefulness of tricks and traps.”
Alear looks perplexed, as he hands the Bracelet back to its current wielder. “Who was this person?”
“A crime lord,” Claude says.
“A thief,” Edelgard says.
“A spy,” Dimitri adds, although distantly. Claude suspects he’s not really here for the whole conversation right now.
Alear’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh,” he says, after a moment. “I…didn’t realize this Academy had such a…variety of classes.”
“It was a weird place,” Claude agrees. “I’d be happy to tell you some stories, if you like. I’ve got some good ones, and all the gossip.”
“Perhaps another time,” Alear says. “It does sound interesting, but I’m afraid I’m already a bit late to help with the orchard.”
“Another time, then,” Edelgard says. “We appreciate your assistance in this matter. At least we can lay that question to rest.”
“Yes,” Dimitri says, and again, he sounds dazed, like he’s purely going through the motions. “Thank you.”
Alear nods to them, before picking up his basket. “I’m happy to help,” he says. “And I’m glad to see the three of you getting along so well!”
“All thanks to your help,” Claude says cheerfully, as he waves the Divine Dragon goodbye.
Edelgard and Dimitri vanish back into the Bracelet with only a brief nod to their wielder. Claude sticks around for a few minutes more, mostly to mislead any watchers just in case. But when their wielder begins to head for bed, Claude takes it as an excellent excuse to make his own leave, and vanishes back into the Inner World.
It doesn’t take him long to find Edelgard or Dimitri. They’re in the same spot as before, the dining hall, sitting at the exact same bench. Dimitri’s head is in his hands, elbows on the table, while Edelgard has a hand settled on his back.
Claude sits across from them, folding his arms on the table. “How’re you doing?” he asks quietly.
“I…” Dimitri’s face is still hidden, but Claude can easily pick out how raspy his voice is. “All this time, I’ve…they’re not here. They’re not here.”
“No,” Edelgard says gently. “They’re not. If even the Divine Dragon cannot find souls beyond our own, then we three are all that exists here.”
“But I can still hear them,” Dimitri says. “Even now, they’re…they’re screaming. They’re angry. They say this is a trick. A trick to relieve me of the guilt I must bear…”
“It doesn’t mean you can’t see them,” Claude says. “Or hear them. It’s real enough to you. But it’s not those real people.”
“Claude is right,” Edelgard says. “Your father—King Lambert—he does not hate you. Neither does Felix’s brother. Or any of the soldiers who died for you. None of them would ever fault you for something you had no control over. Whatever you are seeing and hearing, they are lying to you.”
“But why?” Dimitri asks. He finally drops his hands to the table, staring at a knot in the wood. It seems like he’s afraid to turn his head or adjust his gaze even a little. It’s not hard to imagine why. “Why do I see them? Why do I hear them? If they aren’t truly ghosts haunting me, why have they never left me since that day?”
“I don’t know,” Edelgard says honestly. “I wish I had better answers. I wish I could say it was the fault of Those Who Slither, but I’ve never heard of them doing anything like this to people.”
Claude sighs. “I…look, you both know Almyra is a bit of a warrior’s country.”
Dimitri says nothing. But Edelgard nods slowly.
“Thing is, war…does things to people, sometimes. Battles. Traumas. Not just physical ailments or wounds from battle. There are…mental scars, too. Battle fatigue is pretty common. Almyra has documented a lot of the symptoms. One of them is seeing and hearing things that aren’t there, sometimes…like mirages in the desert.”
Dimitri finally lifts his head, staring dully at Claude. “You’re saying I’m crazy.”
“I’m saying that you were fourteen years old when you went through one of the worst traumas I can possibly imagine,” Claude says. “I’m saying that would scar anyone. I’m saying it’s not your fault if you learned to deal with it by seeing the dead.”
Dimitri breathes in sharply.
“You did it,” Claude says. “You made it through. And now, I’m saying it’s okay to stop listening to those voices, and let yourself rest.”
Edelgard nods firmly. “Claude is right. It may be difficult, but their accusations are not true. You do not deserve to suffer, or torment yourself any longer.”
“I…I don’t know if I can do that,” Dimitri says, so softly Claude almost can’t hear him at all. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to.”
“Fortunately, you do not need to do it alone,” Edelgard says firmly. “We cannot see what you see. But we are here, and we can help.”
“Tell me any argument they make,” Claude agrees. “I’ll talk circles around them. You want a distraction? I can find them. And if you get stuck in a loop, we’ll drag you out of it, and there’s not a damn thing they can do about it.”
“I…” Dimitri is shaking, his metal gauntlets chiming lightly on the table as he trembles. “I…thank you…”
And just like that, Dimitri breaks.
Claude has a lot of memories of Dimitri—some solid and reliable, some ephemeral and from a dozen other lifetimes. He’s seen him angry to the point of being nearly feral, friendly and kind, serious and stalwart, awkward and unsure.
Until now, he’s never seen Dimitri cry. But cry he does, tears spilling forth as he squeezes his eyes shut, shoulders beginning to heave from trying to restrain sobs. “I’m sorry,” he rasps, and his voice is thick and choked. “How shameful—”
“It is not,” Edelgard says, putting her arm more firmly around his back. “Let yourself feel whatever you like.”
“We’ll never tell,” Claude agrees, putting a hand on top of one of Dimitri’s. He won’t feel much through the thick metal gauntlets, but his presence is enough.
And Dimitri stops fighting it. He bows his head, and he lets himself cry.
Claude can only guess what he’s crying for. Maybe it’s his family that he lost a lot longer ago than he realizes. Maybe it’s for himself now that he understands what’s happening to him. He doesn’t know. For once, he doesn’t need to. His only job right now is to be there.
Is this the right way to handle it? Claude has no idea. Battle fatigue was such a tricky thing. Claude knows the basics, but not enough to know how to treat it extensively. Warriors who suffered from battle fatigue were often retired from service in Almyra, but it was at least done respectfully. They’d shown they honored the living and the dead, and no more was asked of them.
Ideally, the best thing to do would be to talk to a doctor or healer. But that’s Dimitri’s decision to make, and not theirs. They can try to encourage him to take that step, but they can’t make him do so.
Well, little steps are a start. Edelgard and Claude aren’t the best support system for something like this, but it’s better than the nothing Dimitri had before. They’ve got eternity to figure it out from here.
It doesn’t take long for Dimitri to wear himself down from weeping. He pulls his hand away from Claude to wipe uselessly at his face with his heavy plated gauntlets, until Edelgard releases him from the hug and produces a handkerchief from somewhere and hands it to him. He nods to her gratefully as he wipes his face.
“Thank you both,” he says finally. His voice is hoarse, but no longer as thick. “I…I realize this is a strange situation. But I appreciate you both helping me regardless. And…”
To Claude’s surprise, he actually smiles. Not a happy smile, but not his manic one from the other day, either. It’s bittersweet, but genuine. “And strange as it may sound…it’s almost a relief. To know I’m not…” He pauses. “No. To know they’re not…not really here.”
“You’re not crazy,” Claude says firmly, because he knows what Dimitri’s thinking, even if he doesn’t say it. “You’re just a survivor.”
“That,” Dimitri admits. “But also…they’re free.”
And at their confused looks, his bittersweet smile grows just a little less bitter. “For so long…for so long, I thought I’d trapped them. Kept them from paradise, tormented them by keeping them bound to me. I wanted so badly for them to be free. To go to the goddess and paradise in peace. And here, to think I’d taken them from their own world, from their own chance at the afterlife…but they’re free. They’re free.”
“They’re free,” Edelgard agrees, glancing only briefly over at Claude and back. Whatever their thoughts on the Church of Seiros and the goddess, whatever their thoughts on where souls go when they die, it doesn’t matter.
“They’re free,” Dimitri repeats. “I don’t have to kill to free them. The real ones.” And if he flinches a moment later from something only he can see or hear, it doesn’t matter, because he just as immediately takes a deep breath and keeps his attention steadfastly on his fellow Emblems.
“It’s a real weight off your shoulders,” Claude says.
Dimitri’s hands clench into fists, and he nods with a grim sort of determination. “It is. It…it’s still difficult. To hear them and see them. I know this won’t be easy. But I’ll try. I’ll fight as hard as I can.”
“And you will not fight alone,” Edelgard says. “The earlier discussion still stands. The two of us will help you bear the weight of this burden.”
“As much as I can, anyway,” Claude says lightly. “I can’t pick up wagons like Dimitri can. Sorry.”
To his delight, as intended, Dimitri actually chuckles. It’s a weak laugh, but it’s a laugh, so mission accomplished. “I will bear that in mind. And…thank you, for keeping your questioning discreet. To ask about the Ashen Wolves was…clever.”
“On occasion, my tricks and schemes can be useful,” Claude agrees sagely.
“I will never doubt you again.”
“We’ll doubt him ten minutes after his next ridiculous scheme,” Edelgard corrects. “Someone must be the voice of reason around here.”
“I’m insulted,” Claude says. “This means war. But since we agreed to not do actual war anymore, how about a board game instead? It’ll pass the time and provide a nice distraction.”
Edelgard and Dimitri exchange glances. “I will agree,” Edelgard says, “but only if you also provide some of our teacher’s tea cakes. Your memory of them is far better than mine.”
“And that soup,” Dimitri adds. He looks tired, but not like he needs to flee, or rest. Like he wants to be here, still. It’s a good sign. “It had a wonderful flavor.”
“Consider it done,” Claude agrees, and with a snap of his fingers, they settle in for an evening of snacks, games, and distractions.
After that day, things gain a new sort of balance.
To those outside the Bracelet, nothing much has changed. The three of them still bicker and complain. They rotate between fights, and fight over who gets to be at those fights. They cooperate, presumably because of the Divine Dragon’s intervention, but they’re rivals through and through.
Most on the outside, except perhaps Teach, probably don’t notice the subtle changes. The way Dimitri often takes the worst of the brute force fights, and strikes with the lance like he’s trying to exorcize something from within him. The times when Edelgard isn’t present, when a battle would ask of her more than she is. Times when Claude isn’t available, because he’s exhausted beyond recognition, and lacks the strength to put on a mask for one more moment.
And if Teach does notice, and if a rare smile graces his ghostly presence—well, a little emotion is good for him, so who are they to stop him?
But inside. Deep within the Bracelet of Three Houses, deep in the Inner World, things change. Slowly but irreversibly, they change.
It starts simply: they avoid each other less, and seek each other out more. Before, they kept to themselves as often as possible, because each of them had things to hide and secrets to preserve. But since they’re dedicated to hiding less, it means being willing to interact more, even when things aren’t dire.
So they see each other more often. First in the dining hall, where Claude makes an effort to create dishes out of his memories of them to feast on. Sometimes Edelgard tries her luck, and her memory isn’t so bad when it comes to certain foods or teas. She introduces some delicacies from outside Garreg Mach, from Enbarr, and shares them with the others, and they’re pretty good. At their cajoling, Claude cautiously introduces some of his favorite dishes from Almyra as well. The two partake with curious interest, even if the dishes aren’t always to their liking.
Dimitri…well, he tries to help with meals, at least. But due to his lack of taste, most of his memories are equally tasteless. The food looks nice, but the memories are empty. He apologizes a bit sheepishly, and leaves the memory of food to the others after that.
(They also try actually cooking in the Inner World, but, well…it doesn’t go so well. None of them had ever been cooks in life—their memories of ingredients are weak at best. Things burn and bubble over and never taste right. They decide to stick with memory, since they don’t actually need to eat anyway).
From the dining hall, they move outward. Sparring together in the training hall keeps their skills sharp, and provides them a chance to burn their energy when they need it. Edelgard no longer holds back the power of her second Crest, and it truly makes her a force to be reckoned with. She seems happier for not having to hide, even if her face is always exactly the same as when she did.
And even further outward. Chats in the gardens or the greenhouse, plucking fresh fruits and vegetables to snack on. Fishing in the monastery pond—the fish were never smart to begin with, and it’s easy enough to will them into being long enough to try catching them. The stables and the aviaries are more complicated, but Dimitri grew up around horses and Claude has lived his whole life around wyverns, and with the memories they have between them the animals are almost lifelike. The horses are nice to pet, at any rate, or take out for little excursions and picnics. And Claude teaches the others how to fly just for the fun of it, just to see the Inner World from the sky.
And when they’re ready, they push it even further, into territory that was once viciously guarded.
Like the day Claude and Edelgard come across Dimitri setting Faerghus snow-lilies at the foot of a monument to the fallen of the Tragedy of Duscur. The monument is in full view of the palace of Fhirdiad, and yet although Claude has explored that palace a dozen times at least in the Inner World, he’s never seen this place before. Dimitri had never let him.
But he lets them now. And he doesn’t say a word as Edelgard adds a bouquet of flowers Claude vaguely remembers seeing in Enbarr to the monument, or when Claude adds his own Almyran desert lupines next to theirs. He just nods silently in thanks.
Like the day Claude and Dimitri stumble upon Edelgard in a forest clearing, kneeling in the mud, before nine stones arranged in a circle around one larger one. None of the stones are marked with names or plaques, but Claude doesn’t need them to know who these empty graves are for. There are no posted signs or gates to keep people away. This place is hidden, a secret, tiny memorial made by a survivor that was lucky enough—or perhaps unlucky enough—to not join the ones being remembered.
Even in the real Fódlan, Claude’s not sure he would have found this place, the way it’s tucked away in the woods. To find it now is only thanks to the silent permission of its curator. Claude sits down next to Edelgard in the mud, and Dimitri does the same on the other side, and they provide silent company in her mourning.
And while Claude’s things to share are less important to the dead, he guarded them no less fiercely. Allowing them to stumble their way into his secret places is an active choice he makes. He releases his death grip on his Almyran memories, forcing himself to show his hand, forcing himself to unlock the gates.
And one day, he finds them lost in the Almyran palace, or out in the deserts and wastelands, or the pine forests to the far East. He shows them around the palace, and he shows them the different kinds of beauty that can be found in the vast expanse of sand and stone of the homeland he loves. And they seem…appreciative, eyes wide with wonder and respect and delight, every time they discover something new.
Claude is more grateful than they will probably ever realize, for that. And bit by bit, he keeps letting go, and letting them creep a little farther into his secrets that aren’t quite secret any longer.
They help each other, when they can—and they’re getting better at asking for help, when they need it. When Edelgard needs a chance to just be herself for a while, without being a princess or an emperor or a person with the strength to walk into a blood-soaked future, she says so. Claude and Dimitri can cover for her in combat, or keep her company in the Inner World, or give her space if she needs it. When Dimitri is close to anger and anguish because the ghosts-that-aren’t-ghosts taunt and torment him, he tells them. Edelgard and Claude provide distractions, or talk him through the lies to see the truth.
And sometimes, when Claude’s too tired to smile or joke, when things are a little too close to the surface and he can’t laugh them away with a witty remark, he lets himself rest. He doesn’t put on the masks, or rise to their banter. And they know what that means, now. They cover for his Emblem duties, and let him be silent without asking why or what’s wrong with him, and they don’t demand answers and solutions from him all the time.
It takes work. They don’t always succeed. Edelgard still pushes herself to be an ideal, a person who can remake the world. Dimitri falls prey to the screaming, angry voices of those who look like his loved ones and torments himself for his failures. Claude’s too quick to act as though nothing’s wrong, or to smirk and laugh and make light of things he shouldn’t.
But they’re trying. They’re trying, and it’s more than any of them have ever done before, and more than they’ve ever asked of themselves before, and it’s a start.
Sometimes, helping each other even overlaps. Like the time Edelgard tracks down Claude in the Inner World, leading a distraught Dimitri in one of his worse states, and asks for more information about battle fatigue. “You said Almyrans study it, and you’ve read about it,” she says. “How much do you remember?”
And Claude doesn’t know how much he remembers directly. But he does know where he learned most of it: in the libraries of the Almyran palace. It means leading them deeper into the heart of his own secrets, but he takes them to where he remembers learning these things, because if it helps Dimitri then it helps them all.
And sure enough, the books are still there. Some of the pages in them are blurred, or empty, because the memory is long gone. But Khalid retained more of that information than he realized, and Claude shares it now. The three of them spend hours pouring over the books, putting together what they can. It gives Edelgard something to focus on, a goal to achieve. It gives Dimitri a sense of peace, to know he isn’t as alone with his particular ailment as he’d first thought.
And Claude, well, he finds himself not as afraid as he thought he would be, when they ask if they can return sometime to read more. He says yes, because the worst that could happen, when he thinks about it, is that the information no longer belongs to just him. And, well, there are worse things than that.
Sometimes, they discuss the deeper, darker things of their lives—the goals they had at the Academy, their plans for the future. They know those futures happened, but treading too close to those memories in a discussion proves to be quite literally painful. But the Academy itself, for all its minor differences between them, is solid enough that they can more or less discuss it freely, as long as they don’t dig too deeply into discovering the differences between them all.
And what they find is…surprising. Claude always had plans for his time in Fódlan—to end the wars between it and Almyra, to purge oppression and hate from both countries, to bring peace and prosperity to everyone through uniting and working together. Edelgard had similar plans, hoping to dismantle the nobility and religious leadership of Fódlan and all three of its countries, making it a place of peace and gain through merit, not birth.
It’s not unrealistic that they never discussed their plans together. In life, in their multiple lives, they never would have known the other was trustworthy. Claude isn’t sure he ever would have trusted Edelgard, even if he’d chosen to ally with her. But if they’d worked together…if they’d found a way to pool their common goals to bring peace to Fódlan, instead of war…
Maybe, they could have achieved something greater than either of them ever managed.
And while Dimitri admits his goals weren’t nearly so grand, they were still worth pursuing. He’d wanted vengeance for the fallen, after the tragedy he’d endured. And while it was motivated by his not-quite-ghosts, that trail would have inevitably led him to Those Who Slither In The Dark. By Edelgard’s estimation, that group had caused more suffering throughout the whole of Fódlan than any other war or party put together with their manipulations. If Dimitri had found them—if he’d managed to work with Edelgard or Claude or both to give them his strength for a brighter future—
Maybe things would have been better than even Claude could imagine.
It’s deeply frustrating, to think of how close they’d come to something truly grand, and yet never reached due to their rivalries. But there’s a lesson in it, too: they have to be better than they were. Emblem Claude won’t make the mistakes of Claude von Riegan. That, he swears to himself.
But most notable of all between them, for good or for ill, are the memories.
Memories that are, more often than not, nightmares. The three of them between them have enough bad things in their pasts to prevent a man from ever sleeping again. And Claude isn’t sure if it’s because they’re growing into their roles as Emblems, or if it’s because they’re loosening their protective holds over their secrets, but the Bracelet of Three Houses seems insistent now on throwing them into each others’ dark pasts.
The memories they’ve experienced before return again, over and over. Sometimes, Claude is drawn into them with a partner, and sometimes he’s alone. Sometimes he’ll spend a whole night sleeping comfortably or wandering the Inner World at his leisure, only to discover in the morning that Edelgard or Dimitri had suffered and the other had assisted and he’d never been involved at all. Sometimes he dreams and only one is there to save him, and sometimes both are.
Claude isn’t sure how the Bracelet chooses. He’s not sure if he’s unconsciously calling for help, or if the Bracelet somehow has a mind of its own and a way of knowing, and selects them according to who can handle what the best at any given time.
All he knows for sure is, when he finds himself in a memory he doesn’t recognize—but does, at the same time—he gets to work immediately.
He’s endured the Tragedy of Duscur three more times now, and at this point he has his preferred sniping spots picked out to rain down death on Those Who Slither In The Dark. He knows each place they hide in, because the memory is static, and he’s getting better at culling them before even more memory-lives of Faerghus Knights are taken. He understands better what words to say, to talk little Dimitri out of his endless loop of suffering. And he knows what to say after, when Dimitri is aware again and shaken from the experience. When Edelgard is there, the work goes even faster.
He’s endured Edelgard’s haunting memory of receiving her Crest of Flames four times, because she dreams of it often. By now, he and Dimitri have begun committing the route to the ritual chamber to memory, and as soon as they find themselves surrounded by dark walls and strangely lit floors, they run. They switch off roles for cutting Edelgard free, and killing Those Who Slither; both of them are bloodthirsty, after hearing her story. But they’re always kind to little Edelgard, when she doesn’t know them and is terrified, and they’re always kind to her after, when she does know them and is still hurting. They take her to the sun and the stars and the wind, and they let her rest in good company.
And Khalid receives at least three more rescues on that day. And while he doesn’t understand what is happening in the moment, Emblem Claude can recount the nightmares after, and recognize they’re arriving earlier and earlier. Sometimes it’s one, sometimes both, but they’re growing to know the halls of the Almyran palace well and know exactly where to run to to stop a seven year old from being beaten. They know his name this time, and they talk to him with proof that they aren’t enemies and are patient with his suspicious, bratty nature. And when he’s Claude again, they ask him for stories about his homeland, and remind him that they appreciate his Almyran blood just as much as his Fódlan Crest.
But there are other memories, as well. New things in their pasts they stumble upon. New stories they discover. New memories they need to learn to navigate from the others’ minds.
Like talking sixteen year old Dimitri out of his bloodthirsty, wild-eyed madness on the slopes of a Faerghus mountain in the midst of a rebellion. One he put down in force, while a horrified Felix watched, and named him boar prince and beast that craves blood. And after, talking him through his guilt and his anguish over what he did and what he could be, coming to terms with that beast inside of himself.
Like rescuing a young, terrified Edelgard trapped in an iron cage, unable to see the sky or smell fresh air. Listening to her siblings babble with madness. Watching them claw out their eyes and bash in their brains and scream without end, not knowing, not understanding. Trying to shield her from it, cover her eyes and her ears and tell her it will be over soon.
Like a wounded Dimitri visiting Duscur after the genocide in his name, in the name of his father, knowing so much death and blood was on his hands. Listening to the ghosts screaming for vengeance, ghosts that are there in the memory because this is how Dimitri perceives them, ghosts that insist this bloodshed is right and just when his heart says otherwise. Driving the ghosts back, convincing Dimitri he’s right, that cruelty doesn’t justify cruelty, that the fault isn’t his for actions he never took.
Like Edelgard, sick with dread as she languishes under the thumb of Those Who Slither, their experiment, their plaything, their belonging. When she weeps as they give her the title Flame Emperor and is told she will conquer in their name because they made her, and she’s still too young and too weak and too frightened to know how strong she’ll be one day, strong enough to resist. But they know, and they tell her, and they talk her through it.
And Claude has his own fair share of new memories that they’re forced to navigate, too. Like two assassination attempts, ones that were foiled to begin with—he lived. But the price of survival comes at the cost of agony, or fury from his peers when he didn’t have the grace and decency to die for them, and he wonders sometimes if it would have been better.
Or the kidnapping orchestrated by Fódlan mercenaries in an attempt to start a war, which left him beaten and starved for days before a rescue was mounted. The rescue in which he was very nearly ‘accidentally’ missed by the recovery party that didn’t want to bring a half-blood whelp back to the palace, and thought it was a good excuse to leave him for dead. If Nader hadn’t found him then…
Khalid hadn’t understood the changes in those memories, when Fódlan royalty intervened on his behalf. He’d still been stunned when the white-haired princess turned aside an assassin’s sword with a brilliant silver shield and smashed the attacker into the wall with a sickening crack. Or the way the blue-and-black man had overturned the kidnapper’s wagon with his bare hands, and torn them from their horses with ease. The way both of them smashed in the door to the ruins he’d been kept in and slew his captors with fury in their eyes, and yet were so gentle when they lifted his starving, barely conscious body from the floor and carried him away from that horrible place.
He’d been saved. He was safe. They were safe.
None of them really understand the memories when they come across them, as the memory holder or as the rescuers. But the more they come across, the better they get at dealing with them afterwards, when everyone is in their right minds again. Providing a listening ear, or company, or space; explaining what had happened, how they felt, how the memory really ended.
It’s never easy. But it gets a little bit easier with practice, with growing trust. Edelgard is less ashamed of her past, less critical of herself for being weak when she was only a child. Dimitri bears a little less guilt on his shoulders over things he never could control.
And Claude, well, it’s still an active effort to share anything at all, to part with information he’d so carefully kept secret. But he gets better at it as time passes. And the other two learn it’s easier if they ask questions, rather than asking him to divulge information of his own accord.
It’s almost hilarious to Claude, to think that they’d be better and healthier after a dozen different attempts to live the same life, after death finally came for them all unconditionally. And yet, here they are. Better. Wiser. Stronger, in their shared strengths, tempered by their rivalry and their unity both.
It’s not perfect. But it doesn’t have to be, not yet. They’ve got an eternity to figure it out, and all three of them are clever enough, determined enough, and stubborn enough to do so.
Being an Emblem is certainly a unique sort of job. But Claude figures there have got to be worse ways to spend your afterlife.