The arrow flew through the air and landed bullseye in the target set up in the forest clearing. A few grey clouds drifted across the Macedonian sky. Kris notched his bow once again. Countless arrows already littered the ground. Lactic acids pumped through his arms and his legs ached.

He breathed in deeply through his nose, then out twice through the mouth.

In. Out. Out. Stance. Elbow. Hook. Pointer.

Fire.

The arrow flew through the air and hit the outer ring. Kris frowned, and readied his bow again.

“That’s enough now Kris,” rang out a voice from behind him.

Kris lowered his bow and turned around, seeing Palla leading her pegasus by the harness. “Ah, finished with the scouting already Dame Palla?”

Palla nodded, a smile on her face as she tied her steed to a nearby tree. “I finished a while ago, but to speak truly, I became engrossed watching your technique. I can see why Prince Marth trusts you so much.” She pat the head of her pegasus. It leaned into her touch, neighing softly.

Kris rubbed the back of his head, his face red. “Ah, thank you…that’s high praise from a veteran of the War of Shadows.”

“Oh please.” Palla chuckled. The sound reminded Kris of the soft ringing of wind chimes back in Sera. “You don’t need to bring that up every time we speak. And you don’t have to call me Dame anymore you know?.”

“Ah yes,” Kris laughed. “Forgive me. It’s a force of habit I suppose.”

Ever since Palla had stumbled upon him collapsed from overtraining, it had become routine for her to oversee his sessions. He didn’t know why she did it, but having her presence always nearby while he trained felt…nice.

“Now,” said Palla as she sat on the ground against the tree, a satchel and flask in her hand. “Isn’t it time you came and sat down? You started this session even before I left to scout. “

His grandfather’s words came to him, beaten into his head by repetition. When training is hard, train even harder.

Kris rubbed his wrist. “I do only have a few more arrows in this quiver, it’d be a waste to not finish-“

“Kris,” called out an authoritarian voice. He almost snapped to attention, reminded of Jagen during his training days. Palla looked him straight in the eyes with a steely glint that hadn’t been there before. “It’s been hours. Come. Rest.”

A breeze blew across the field, making the grass ripple and Palla’s hair billow slightly. Kris suddenly felt the ache in his muscles. He lowered his shoulder and smiled.

“Right you are.”

Palla pat the ground next to her, smiling brightly. “It’s what I’m here for.”

Kris walked over and sat down next to her, leaning against the tree. He stretched his arms and glanced over at her as she rummaged through the bag. Her hair felt gently over her shoulders, her face calm and serene. Becoming aware that he was staring, he turned away and focused on his stretching.

“You know, sometimes I forget that you’re the leader of Whitewings until you do things like that.” He commented. “You have such a commanding presence at times. It’s quite impressive.”

Palla smiled, pulling out a flask of water and a pouch of dried meat and handing them to Kris. “I’m only the deputy commander you know. Princess Minerva is the true heart of the Whitewings.”

Her face fell. “I hope we can find her soon…”

Another breeze blew across the field, rustling the branches of the tree. Palla’s pegasus whinnied softly. The clouds were now darker than they had been earlier, and crickets began to chirp from the edge of the outskirt, Kris looked at her, his mouth hanging open slightly. She perked up, a tiny smile appearing on her face.

“Forgive me, I shouldn’t be speaking in such a way. I don’t mean to trouble you.”

Kris shook his head vehemently. “Not at all Dame-er, Palla. Please, feel free to share whatever might be troubling you. I swear to you-“

He turned to face her fully, putting down the food in his hand. Palla looked at him in surprise.

“Kris?”

He balled his hand into a fist and met her gaze, then spoke clearly. “We will find Princess Minerva. She is Prince Marth’s friend, and an irreplaceable ally to Altea. And also…I will find her for your sake as well.”

The air was still. The two stared at each other. Her eyes were green, just like the field of grass. Then, as if broken from a spell, Kris suddenly felt hot, realizing what he just said. “Ah forgive me, I’m not sure what came over me.”

Palla shook her head. “Not at all. Hearing you say that so confidently…it fills me with courage.”

She lifted her head. And a smile graced her face, this time reaching her eyes.

The army was returning to Altea. The expedition had been a trap; Archanea and their suzerains were attacking unprovoked. The atmosphere around camp had become even more animated then in Grust as everyone prepared to take back their homeland.

During dinner, Palla helped Catria prepare and serve dinner in the mess hall tent. The salted pork and dried fruit was a far cry from the meals she could prepare at home, but the others had taken to it with gusto. Luke and Cecil scarfed down their meals. Roderick scolded them to slow down while Ryan looked on with worry. Kris sat with them, laughing and sometimes chiming in with a comment as they all ate. He had a small dimple on his left cheek when he smiled. Palla had watched them from afar, seeing clearly how close they were with each other.

Abel had once said how delicious her cooking was. His joyful laugh had been boisterous and loud. Her heart had felt full to burst.

Palla stood in the mess hall tent alone now. The sun had set hours ago, and the others had long retired to their own tents, and she had shooed Catria away to bed. She could see the bags under her little sister’s eyes. The food needed to be prepared for the day’s march, and she could handle it herself. No need to burden Catria anymore. She already worked herself far too hard.

Palla sliced the remaining pork. The knife cut through cleanly. She blinked away the tiredness in her eyes.

Slice

After this, she would need to help take down the tent in the morning, then scout ahead with the other pegasus knights in her squad. Lang had most likely deployed troops to block their passage-knowing their position was crucial. Princess Minerva would’ve known exactly how to fly their formation.

Slice

Kris would probably try to train again tomorrow as well. He would likely be working on his sword form so he’d need a sparring partner who could match him, and her swordplay did need practice too. Honestly, he was straightforward and kind, but why was he so obsessed with getting stronger? It seemed to go beyond protecting Prince Marth. He was going to get himself hurt one of these days.

Slice

She wondered if Est was ok. She had left the army and opened that shop in Altea with him so suddenly. That girl had such a carefree attitude. Even after being rescued in Valentia and helping Lady Celica, she had carried on as if nothing had happened, not a worry in the world. The look on Abel’s face when they returned-

Slic-

“Ah!”

The knife slipped and cut her left index finger. She gasped and dropped the knife, moving so as not to get blood on the rations. The cut was deep-deeper then it should have been. How careless. She stared at it, suddenly overwhelmed. By fatigue? By sleepiness? By guilt?

“Dame Palla? You’re still here?

She looked up. Kris stood at the entrance of the tent, looking in curiously.

“I’d noticed that you hadn’t gone to your tent, I thought you might still be here- wait, you’re bleeding!”

He noticed the cut on her hand. Palla fought the urge to hide it behind her back. “It’s nothing to worry about it, I’m fine Kris. Shouldn’t you be resting yourself?”

The worry on his face intensified. It was the same look she’d seen on Catria’s face after their parents had died. “Don’t be silly, you know as well as I do that could get infected. Let me take care of it for you.”

She was failing, she felt it. She had to handle it. “Thank you, but I’m fine, I promise. Now please, I can take care of this, you should-”

“Palla,” his voice had a gravity she’d never heard before that stopped her midsentence. He stepped towards her and took her other hand gently. “You’re working yourself to death. Let me help you.”

His hand was warm. All her resistance fell out of her body at once. She nodded. “Okay”

Kris’ tent was surprisingly neat for being so small. His rucksack was neatly rolled up and ready for use at a moment’s notice, and his bag and few belongings set properly next to it. They sat on the floor, the stars visible through the tent flap. He wrapped the bandage around the whole of her finger with a practiced touch.

“You’re quite good at this,” she said quietly. He looked like he was concentrating, treating her injury with delicacy. It was just a cut.

He was strange.

“I got a lot of practice doing this where I grew up.” He said as he worked. “You get a lot of chances to wrap up cuts when you live in a hunting village and start learning to use a bow. I wasn’t very good, but my practice paid off for this.” He chuckled, and finished the final section of wrapping. “There. All good to go.”

He sat back, and Palla flexed her finger experimentally. The bandage was perfectly taut, not too tight and covering just enough area. Her grip on a weapon would be minimally affected. “Thank you Kris. Truly.”

She hesitated, then spoke again. “My apologies for being…difficult earlier.”

Kris smiled, his dimple showing.

“I understand, to be honest.” He said. “And I know I’m the last person here who should be saying this, but you truly should be taking better care of yourself. You work so hard for everyone else sake’s. But maybe you should take some time for yourself? You’re very important to…the people here.”

He was so earnest. She looked him in the eyes, she felt like for the umpteenth time recently, and saw genuine concern. It felt…nice. Something calm spread through her body.

“How about this?” she said. “Maybe we could…help each other to rest when needed? Neither of us seems to be very good at it.”

They laughed together. His laugh was lovely and quiet, like the flowing stream behind the palace that she sometimes retreated to. Her heart felt something.

“It’s a deal. You’ll still help me to train of course?” He held out his hand.

“Of course. It would be my pleasure.” She gripped it with her own. They shook, and then let go. The lingering heat stayed on Palla’s hand.

She stood up and moved to leave. Before she stepped through the flap, she turned back one more time. “You know, I quite like when you call me just Palla.” And she turned back, leaving without looking to see his reaction. She felt the reddening in her own cheeks.

As she walked back to her own tent, she stopped to look at the stars. They shone brightly. She wondered what the stars back in Macedon were like right now. She wondered what the stars over Est and Minerva were like. And she wondered what the stars over him- over the village Kris was from were like.

It would be lovely to visit someday.