A/N:

Rapis-Razuri: Katerina was indeed among the undead soldiers, but Mikoto and Arete never met her, so they wouldn't recognize her. I envision her as a Wyvern Lord, personally.

Cirex Review: I picked Sniper for Mikoto's dad because he's the one who taught her archery (which will be mentioned here, in fact). Great Knight was picked for their mom solely because it's not a traditional feminine class and I wanted to play with gender stereotypes a bit. A similar reason was used for making Theo a Dark Knight—I liked the idea of the nice, trusting and religious man having a "dark" class. Dark is Not Evil and all that.

Not much to say other than: here's The Big One. I went back and forth a lot about whether to include Hinoka in the Cheve incident or not, since the game has implications for either way. I decided against it because I figured it'd be easier to write her in than write her out if I missed something that points to her actually being there. If anyone's aware of such a detail, please let me know!

Also, this fic won't be ending with this chapter! There's still one, maybe two more left, then the epilogue, before it's over!

EDIT: I changed the Cheve attack slightly so that Hana's dad died during it, as she mentions in her supports.

Hoshidans were not very public about birthdays, even royal ones—only the reigning monarch's birthday or a coming-of-age was deemed cause for public celebration. Thus, on Kamui's fifth birthday, the citizens treated the day like any other. For the royal family, however, it was a different story.

Sumeragi handed work off to Yukimura that day, and he took Mikoto and the children out of Shirasagi. There was a little shrine by the roadside they stopped at to pray, and the smiling priest handed the children a piece of candy each. Then they were on their way, Saizo, Akio and Reina trailing behind them.

The meadow he took them to was sprawling with summer flowers, abloom in rich colors of red, blue, and purple. At the far end were the sakura trees iconic of Hoshido, leaves now green in summer, and several brooks bubbled through the grass; behind them loomed the mountain housing Shirasagi. The picnic basket was full of scrumptious food; sushi, miso soup, sukiyaki, vegetable tempura, grilled octopus, and rice, an abundance of rice. Peaches, sugared plums, and red bean mochi made up the desserts, to the delight of the children—Kamui happily munched on a plum, and Sakura, even at one, was already showing a liking for red bean mochi. The retainers were normally not permitted to eat with the royal family, but Sumeragi insisted on having them dine together just this once. Reina's kinshi grazed peacefully a short distance away. It was idyllic.

After the meal, Sumeragi presented Kamui with his birthday gift, wrapped in a long, thin silk box. Kamui squealed with delight when he ripped it open and saw it was a wooden katana. "A sword?! Does this mean you'll start trainin' me, Papa?"

Sumeragi grinned broadly, patting his head with a massive hand. "That it does! You're a young man now, Kamui, and it's time you started learning what comes with being one, beginning with how to fight."

His red eyes shone with delight. "Can we start now?"

"I don't see why not!" Sumeragi boomed, and placing a hand on the young boy's back herded him off to the other end of the meadow. Taking that as their cue to do what they wanted, the other children split off into their own activities; Hinoka wandered off to the brook to skip stones, while Ryoma entertained Takumi with a game of chopsticks and Sakura babbled happily at the flowers, admiring them in the simple ways of a toddler.

Mikoto watched her husband begin to instruct Kamui about the proper stances. Unbidden, the memory of her father gently correcting how she drew a bowstring rose to her mind. She pushed it away forcefully, but the damage was done; once one memory of her childhood came up, others followed, and inevitably she couldn't help but think of the last time she'd seen her parents, undead puppets to Anankos, and of Arete, who was probably suffering the same fate. A lump rose in her throat, and she felt water prickling at her eyes.

"Lady Mikoto?"

She started, turning to see Reina had abandoned her post to approach her. The kinshi knight's purple eyes were filled with concern, the scars on her face even more stark in the sunshine. Mikoto forced out a light laugh, resting one hand on her chest like some silly damsel. "My goodness Reina, I could have mistaken you for Saizo with how silently you moved just then!"

"Are you alright, my lady?"

"Oh, I simply got lost in thought, you know how absent-minded I can be," she lied smoothly. Her hands were trembling against her kimono; through great force of will, she stopped them.

Reina met her gaze steadily. "With all due respect, that's not what I meant. You've been distant these past few weeks." She hesitated, then added, "I'm concerned for you."

It took every ounce of training Mikoto had to maintain her serene smile. It had been two months since Arete's death. The scar that had healed over when she first thought her sister dead had been ripped open anew, left to bleed and ache.

She wasn't even permitted to mourn, forced to pretend to care nothing for a dead Nohrian queen.

"I'm just in a mood, that's all. It'll lift soon enough."

"Lady Mikoto—"

"Please, Reina. Leave it." Something in her voice must have told Reina to back down, for after pausing the kinshi knight nodded respectfully and returned to her post. For some reason, that irritated her, and she couldn't help but think that Damaris and Keiji would have been able to discern what was wrong. Then she shook her head, sighing. There was no point comparing the living to the dead.

Mikoto watched her family play around her, more aware than ever of how isolated the secrets she kept made her.

In the days after, Mikoto threw herself back into Arete's research. Her sister had been very meticulous with detail, making for long reading, and she hadn't had much time to look over the papers so far, caught up in a political storm as Hoshido tried to prepare for whatever Garon's reaction to his wife's death would be. So far, it seemed, he was simply lost in overwhelming grief, all activity in Nohr grinding to a halt. Mikoto could empathize; keeping busy helped her, but not everyone was like that.

Her fingers traced over her sister's neat handwriting. The stave held a barrier spell with an enormous range, large enough to cover an entire country, maybe even two. Arete had molded it off Anankos's barrier, changing the components so that instead of blocking outward travel, it blocked inward travel, and instead of blocking everyone, it blocked only hostiles. It would be invaluable once Nohr and Hoshido were allied, keeping their homes safe and allowing all their troops to wage war in Valla.

Except there was a catch. A spell of that magnitude wouldn't have a very long life—six months, a year at most. And it only had a single cast.

Her fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk. Something had to be done.

The sound of sandaled feet hitting the ground in the room outside reached her ears. Mikoto hastily swept Arete's notes and stave back into their hiding places, a cavity she'd dug into the wall and covered with a painting that Sumeragi and the servants wouldn't think to move. Arete's bag and the sending stone were also kept tucked away inside, the only things she had left of her sister. She straightened her posture, brushed her chin-length hair behind her ears, and pretended to be busy poring over reports on the rice harvest.

The screen door slide open, and arms wrapped around her as Sumeragi embraced her from behind. "That looks boring," he commented, peering over her shoulder.

She smiled, allowing herself to relax back into him slightly. "It is, but it needs to be done."

"Well, it can wait a little. Something more important has come up."

She arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Nohr sent another missive. The terms they're offering are good, but it concerns Kamui, so I thought you should be the one to decide whether to accept or not." Her heart leapt; Sumeragi pulled the letter out and laid it before her, but Mikoto knew what it would say. Skipping impatiently past the necessary prosaic greetings, she found the meat of the letter and read aloud:

"…Therefore, to come to an accord, we suggest a formal alliance, wherein we shall reduce the charges on military protection by fifteen percent in exchange for an equal reduction of the taxes on food. To seal the alliance between our nations, we offer Princess Azura of Nohr in engagement to Prince Kamui of Hoshido, to be wed when they come of age. The dowry of Princess Azura…"

She trailed off, closing her eyes; the rest of the letter wasn't really important. Fifteen percent was the amount they'd raised the taxes; lowering it would bring them back to the starting amount, satisfying Nohr. A similar reduction of the fee for military protection should be enough to let them pay off the merchant clans. And the engagement—well, that was going off exactly as planned.

We did it, Arete. It was as though a weight had dropped from her shoulders. She'd started to wonder if nothing would come of her sister's sacrifice. Nothing could have been worse than that. Still, victory was bittersweet in her mouth, and she swallowed the taste down.

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to," Sumeragi said softly, misreading the sorrowful look crossing her face. "He's your son, and I know how much you love him. I can try to get them to agree to Ryoma instead, it's tradition for the eldest to be wed first anyway—"

"No," she said firmly. "This offer is too good to refuse, and we risk them withdrawing it if we bargain. Take it. There'll be time to find Ryoma a bride later."

He searched her eyes for any sign of weakness, any hint of wavering. Then he slowly nodded, sighing. "Alright. I'll start writing our reply to Nohr now."

He turned to leave. He was only a few paces away from the door when Mikoto spoke up.

"He's not just my son, you know. He's yours, too."

Sumeragi paused, lingered. For a moment she thought he wasn't going to say anything, and flushed with embarrassment.

Then he laughed, sounding a little choked. "I've always considered him mine. But it's still nice to hear you say it too."

The letters continued to be exchanged for the next five weeks as they tried to find a good meeting time and place. Hinoka was turning seven soon, and Sumeragi was reluctant to miss that event; Garon wanted the meeting done before Prince Alexander's birthday, which was two months after Hinoka's. But finally, they agreed upon a date, three weeks after Hinoka's birthday, and a place, the city-state of Cheve.

Cheve was an ideal location for several reasons; it was not "officially" a part of Nohr, rather a vassal city-state; both countries had history there, sometimes sending regiments to be trained by the Chevois; and the people were, above all else, accommodating regardless of nationality. The only thing Mikoto was a little leery on was the distance—on horse it was three weeks from Shirasagi to the Bottomless Canyon, another three to Cheve, assuming fine weather. She would be staying in Hoshido to keep things running and wasn't certain she wanted to be parted from Kamui for so long, but Sumeragi had convinced her that it was time to stop babying him. He'd agreed about the distance, though, and said they'd go by ship, which would only take two weeks, round-trip, so she caved in the end.

Still, that feeling of wrongness wouldn't leave, even on the day they were supposed to leave.

It reminded her of that day in Valla, long ago, when Theophilus had left to try speaking with Anankos—and now that was a comparison she didn't want to make. Citizens lined the streets outside the shrine where the royal family had made their prayers for a safe journey. The horses prepared for the journey were whinnying and tossing their heads. Those going were saying quiet goodbyes and see you laters to their families. The sole difference was that Sumeragi would be riding to a port town, where he and those with him would board a ship to Cheve.

Nohr had asked Sumeragi to bring Kamui to the peace talks, citing that their king would bring Azura so the two could start building a relationship. King Garon was very protective of the only thing he had left of Arete, the Nohrians said, and was going to do his best to ensure her happiness, which meant ensuring her relationship with her betrothed was a good one.

Besides her husband and son, Akio and Saizo would attend Sumeragi, of course, and no one else; Sumeragi was confident the three of them could handle any trouble that came on their way to Cheve, and that once there the Chevois soldiers would be sufficient protection. Ryoma, Saizo the Fifth, and Kaze would all be attending; the boys had been deemed old enough to start learning the ins and outs of diplomatic meetings with other countries. The attendance of the children gave Sumeragi the idea to turn the latter half of the trip into a vacation; after the treaty was signed they would stop in Crykensia, visiting the opera house for one of the famed performances, and then they'd be on their way home.

She'd fussed over Kamui to the last minute, straightening his collar, checking his hair, until Sumeragi, laughing, swatted her hand away from him. "It'll only be two weeks, Mikoto," he chuckled.

"I know, but he's never been away for me for that length of time."

"I'll be fine, Mama!" Kamui piped in. He'd treated the news of his engagement with a confused "what's that?", brightened a bit when Mikoto explained it simply meant he going to be spending a lot of time with Azura in the future, and then dismissed the matter completely from his mind. He was far more eager to see Cheve and Nohr and the places he'd only heard stories about; he'd been impatient for the trip all week, bouncing up and down and asking if it was time to go yet. Only the sword fighting lessons with his father enraptured him more.

She sighed and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I know you will, my little dragon. I just worry too much, that's all."

He squealed and wriggled away. Sumeragi glanced at his eldest daughter, a little hopeful. "Are you sure you don't want to come, Hinoka?"

The redheaded girl gave Kamui a deliberate glance, then turned away, hugging her doll tighter to her chest. Apparently she thought tolerating Mikoto's presence in a large castle was better than tolerating her brother's in a small group.

"I wanna go!" Takumi cried, eyes welling up as he reached out chubby hands to Sumeragi.

The king sighed, turning away from his errant daughter. With a smile that looked a little forced, he tousled his son's silver hair. "You're a little too young to go on a journey this long, Takumi. Next time, I promise."

He pouted, petulant, as Sumeragi turned to Sakura, held in the arms of her nurse, tickling her stomach and eliciting a laugh from the toddler. While he was doing that, Mikoto turned to her son expectantly. "Kamui, say goodbye to Hinoka."

His face set itself into a scowl. "I don't want to," he said plaintively. "And I don't want Ryoma to come, either. They're both mean."

A sniffle came from Hinoka's direction. Before Mikoto could respond, her step-daughter spun around, face red and eyes a little teary. "I hate you!" she shrieked, then stormed away.

"I hate you too!" Kamui yelled after her, riled.

Mikoto sighed. Despite Hinoka's words, the girl had looked definitely hurt by Kamui's words, but what else could she expect with her recent behavior towards him? He was just too young to not see the world in black and white. Regret welled up in her; they used to be so close. If she'd known marrying Sumeragi would cause this, she would have just stayed his concubine.

"They'll get better in time," Sumeragi murmured, stepping up beside her. "They're just young."

"She hates me, not him," Mikoto responded lowly, watching her son pointedly turn his back to Ryoma, who made a face at it, and hug Takumi and Sakura goodbye. "And he's paying for it."

"She doesn't hate you, and Ryoma doesn't, either. They're just…" He tried to make a gesture with his hands, then let them fall limply to his side. He sighed.

"When this is over," he muttered, "I think the two of us will have a vacation of our own. No worrying about the kingdom, not about the kids, not anything."

"That sounds nice," she admitted. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a break. Kamui's birthday didn't count.

"We could go to Notre Sagesse, perhaps, I went once before to complete the Rainbow Sage's trials."

"Challenge seeker," she teased. Even in Valla, they'd heard about the gruesome trials.

"A samurai must always seek to improve himself," he quipped, and they both laughed. "But seriously, I think you'd like it there."

Mikoto smiled, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his lips. "I'm looking forward to it."

A few minutes later, she was watching the convoy leave, Takumi's small hand in her own. "Bye, Mama!" Kamui called, waving with a bright smile over his shoulder. She returned it, giving him a small wave in turn; it slowly slid off her face as the horses disappeared through the gates. A chill ran through her, and nausea, for a reason she couldn't discern, filled her stomach.

It really was much too like Theo's trip in Valla.

That uneasy feeling persisted for the next twelve days. Mikoto tried to busy herself with work, but shivers continued to crawl up her spine at random intervals, bouts of nausea came and went, and her skin was constantly clammy. She would have thought she was sick or pregnant had the healers not found anything when they looked over her.

In hindsight she knew they were warning signs for a vision, but it had been so long since she'd had one she hadn't recognized them. As such, when it did come, she was completely unprepared.

It hit her like a hammer upside the head; she was in a meeting with the merchant heads, trying to placate them that in a few weeks you'll get your money, there's no need to rebel, when all of a sudden pain laced through her skull like knives. She cried out, collapsing, hands clutching at her head—

—a cold voice, ordering archers to fire at will, and arrows whistling through the air, impacting—

—a child screaming, sobbing, as hands grabbed him and dragged him into darkness—

—a mob pushing at the gates of a castle, screaming for vengeance—

—wyverns and pegasi clashing in the skies over a fortress as battle raged on the ground below—

—the bodies of adults and children alike filling the streets, rivers of blood flowing over the cobblestone—

—a young man with black armor and white hair, red eyes ablaze with hate and a tarnished golden blade in hand as he burned the world down—

She gasped. In the midst of her vision, she'd fallen to the ground. Her head throbbed; she must have caught it on the edge of the short-legged table they'd been seated at. Her vision was still swimming with black spots, leaving her blind. She was aware of hands lifting her head and cool liquid seeping down her throat, a relief.

When her ears stopped ringing, she recognized that a voice was speaking. "What did you see, Lady Mikoto?" It was Orochi; someone must have gone to fetch her when the seizure started, knowing of her family's expertise in this matter. "What did you see?"

She closed her eyes, trying to untangle the web of images in her head. From what Orochi's family had told her, her premonitions were quite different from their own. While they received constant visions with little discomfort, Mikoto's visions occurred rarely and brought great pain. This, she suspected privately, was because her visions had been given to her directly from a deity and weren't meant for human minds. Additionally, Orochi described her visions as looking through mist—the details were fuzzy, but she had a general idea of the event as a whole, and they always happened. Mikoto's always came in jagged, jumbled pieces, sharp as broken glass and just as hard to grasp, but she'd learned she only saw possibilities, not certainties.

That voice she'd heard, at the beginning of her vision. That deep baritone, that accent. It had been King Garon's voice.

She usually only saw potential futures. But this time she knew, with horrific conviction, that Cheve was a trap.

"An ambush," she breathed, and the faces of those gathered twisted in horror. "Sumeragi and the others, they're going to be ambushed."

From there, the palace was a flurry of motion, preparing every able-bodied pegasus knight to fly with all speed possible. Divining was considered a silly profession by most, but when the lives of members of the royal family were at stake, no one was willing to take chances. Mikoto nearly had to order Yukimura into standing aside and letting her go; he argued they couldn't possibly risk any more of the royal family, and she countered, very politely, that she was not going to sit by while her husband, children and friends were in danger. Additionally, she reasoned, if she received another vision, she wouldn't be able to tell the troops about it if she was in Shirasagi. In the end she didn't have to resort to pulling rank, which was good, as she didn't want to alienate her allies, but it was close.

On pegasus the journey from Shirasagi to Cheve was ordinarily four days. The Hoshidans were desperate and pushed themselves through night and day, making it in half that; their mounts were panting with fatigue and darkness was blanketing the land when they arrived. But despite their speed, Mikoto realized they were too late.

"Down there!" She pointed to two familiar figures fighting in the streets, one green-haired and flinging shurikens, the other brunet and slashing with a katana. They'd somehow rigged part of a building to explode into rubble, blocking parts of the street and preventing the superior numbers from overwhelming them, but even from far above Mikoto could see they were badly injured. They wouldn't last long.

Reina kicked her heels into the kinshi and it dove, beak open in a fierce war cry, talons extended. The two Nohrian soldiers had no idea what hit them, one's neck breaking as a powerful wing snapped his head too far back, the other's stomach pierced by Reina's naginata. Mikoto leapt off the kinshi, her yumi already in motion; she fired her first arrow into the cavalier who had been about to strike Saizo down, felling her. Her second found a home in the arm of an axeman, her third into the chest of an archer, and then the other Hoshidan soldiers landed, weapons flashing through the air. The Nohrians, obviously unprepared for reinforcements, suddenly found themselves fighting desperately on the defensive against very angry Hoshidans. Within a few minutes it was over.

It was still too late for one of the men, though. Saizo swayed and fell to one knee, the other collapsing beneath him. One hand pressed to his side, red soaking through the cloth of his glove. But he was still breathing. Akio, on the other hand, wasn't; the samurai had crumpled to the ground, letting Mikoto see the scorch marks and charred skin on his back.

She rushed over to them, pulling out her sun festal. Saizo had extended a hand towards his friend's neck, checking for a pulse, but the look on his face told her all she needed to know. She blinked back tears as Saizo bowed his head; she hadn't known Akio very well, but he'd been solid and reliable. A good friend to Sumeragi. He deserved better than this. At least he died a samurai's death.

"What happened?" Mikoto asked, moving her festal over the ninja's injuries. Green light soon washed over him. "Where's Sumeragi? Where are my sons?"

"Damn Nohrians betrayed us," Saizo rasped. "We got here and they said we'd start the talks in the morning. Turns out they didn't even bring their princess, just a small army. They attacked at moonhigh, when we were deep in sleep. Sumeragi took the kids and ran to get to safety. Akio and I stayed back to hold the bastards off… "

"Do you know where they went?" Reina asked, leading her kinshi over.

The green-haired man made a vague gesture towards the west. "The Nohrians have soldiers all over the city…they've boxed us in, left west as the only way we can go… They're herding us."

He glanced over his shoulder, and Mikoto just then saw his two sons emerge out of the shadows. Their clothes were a little torn, but they weren't seriously injured, and they were each holding bloodied weapons; with a chill she realized they'd been fighting too, just boys on the cusp of twelve.

"You foolish boys," Saizo hissed. "What are you doing back here? You were supposed to escort the king and his sons to safety!"

"We came back to get you, Father," Saizo the Fifth began, but his father interrupted him, fury painting his words black.

"Your duty to your liege is always more important than personal attachments! You should have let me die rather than be parted from their sides!"

"That's not why," Kaze mumbled, guilt creeping into his tone. "We got separated. By the time we found them again…"

He hesitated, exchanging a glance with his twin. With a sinking feeling, Mikoto knew whatever they were about to say wasn't good at all.

"They'd been ambushed," his red-headed brother finished, and a moan reverberated through the air; it took Mikoto a moment to realize it had come from her. "We didn't know what to do. So we left to get you."

The Hoshidans stared at them, faces pale in the lamplight.

"Take us to them," Mikoto finally said.

Not all of their soldiers went; Mikoto dispatched several around the city to sweep for Nohrians and take them out if possible, report numbers and locations if not. They were ordered to not take to the air until they were certain no archers were around. She didn't want to be caught off-guard by a sudden attack, and more importantly having a plan gave her something solid to cling to in the disaster that had been unleashed upon her.

It only took a few minutes for the twins to bring them to the site of the ambush, moving as swiftly as possible. It had taken place in one of the side roads; if Garon had gotten men to the front and back, then the narrow, high building walls would have trapped her family within like fish in a barrel. Ryoma was huddled on the ground, hugging his knees to his chest. His wide eyes were staring blankly at the prone body of his father, traces of blood splattered on his face, and his small frame was wracked by shakes.

Mikoto dropped her yumi and fell to her knees by her husband, reaching out with trembling hands to roll Sumeragi over. Half a dozen arrows were sticking out of his chest and stomach, with a few more in his arms and legs, and there was a massive gash bisecting him, shoulder to hip. The blood pouring from his wounds had slowed, thickened, congealed on the ground. His face was blank, expression frozen in a mask of defiance, and his skin starting to cool.

"Sumeragi," she croaked, helplessly, tears filling her eyes. "Sumeragi…"

He didn't respond. Her numb fingers pulled out her sun festal as her mind began reciting the checklist that had been ingrained into her since the first days she'd started studying healing.

Locate the wounds—five on the chest, two on the stomach, six on the limbs. Check the severity—critical, several major arteries pierced, lungs and stomach pierced, three ribs crushed, internal bleeding a strong possibility. Fatal if untreated, patient most likely to die by asphyxiation as blood fills the lungs, a slow, agonizing death—

The tears poured over. Sobbing, Mikoto redoubled her efforts; she had to force the healing energy of her sun festal into his body. It was resistant, rejecting the magic before it could take hold. It felt like pouring energy into a corpse. No, no, NO, he's NOT a corpse, he's not dead…

The clang of metal hitting the ground behind her informed her that one of the soldiers had dropped his or her weapon, shock and grief stitching their mouth shut. "I failed," she heard Saizo the Fourth moan, voice thick with emotion. "My liege…my friend…I failed you."

At those words, Mikoto broke. Her festal fell from her fingers, a useless chunk of wood. Her chest heaved; it was so hard to breathe. With a wail she abandoned the few remaining fragments she had of composure, dropping her head to Sumeragi's unmoving chest and weeping. She wanted nothing more than to cradle his body close and stay there forever.

Had she not heard Reina's voice, querying as to where Kamui was, she just might have.

"Kamui," she choked out, the sound of her son's name jolting her into action, rising and turning to the only present survivor of the ambush. "Where's Kamui?"

Ryoma didn't respond, just stared at her with dull eyes. Losing herself, she grabbed and shook him. "Where is your brother, Ryoma?!"

He flinched backwards, and the part of her not lost in grief and hysteria recognized that her actions were the last thing he needed. But the rest of her, the worried mother and grieving widow, drowned that out. All she knew was that her son, her child, was missing, and the only person capable of telling her where he was wasn't telling her. She was about to scream when—

"They went north," came a hesitant voice.

The Hoshidans wheeled around, raising their weapons. Lingering in the doorway to a house was a blonde woman, a tousle-haired girl peering out from behind her. The woman flinched when she saw the hostility in the Hoshidans' eyes, but kept her voice even.

"King Garon knocked out and grabbed that white-haired boy once he'd...killed your king, then retreated north. The gate there is massive; it takes the strength of several horses to pull the doors open and shut. If they get through and close it, you'll never be able to catch them. But it takes a bit of time to open, so they should still be waiting outside. You could catch up if you hurry."

"You Nohrian filth," Saizo snarled, anger revitalizing him. He pulled out one of his shuriken and stalked forward menacingly; the woman scrambled backwards, face paling before him. "You have the nerve to try and help? After what your king just pulled?"

"We didn't know he was going to do this," the woman whispered. "He said the soldiers were just protection in case Hoshido betrayed him… We wouldn't have let him in if we'd known…"

"Spare me the excuses! My king—my friend—is dead because of you, and you expect me to believe you weren't complacent?! You expect me to believe standing by and letting it happen wasn't as bad as killing him yourselves?! You expect me to believe you aren't just leading us into another trap?!"

"How could it be a trap?" The girl piped up.

"Scarlet!" the woman—her mother—hissed, eyes darting back to the furious Hoshidan not six feet away.

"What? We didn't know more of them were arriving; the king probably didn't. So how could it be a trap?"

The Hoshidans hesitated, looking among each other. There was some sense to what the girl was saying; they would never have come if Mikoto hadn't had her vision. King Garon had no way of knowing they were coming and likely hadn't been expecting reinforcements. They might just be able to catch him off-guard. And yet…

"Can we take that chance?" one of the pegasus knights, a redheaded man named Masashi, cautioned. "Our steeds are at the ends of their ropes after being pushed so hard, they won't do well in another fight."

"Are you suggesting we just abandon Prince Kamui to them?" Reina spat. She dismounted her kinshi and stalked over towards him, eyes glinting dangerously, hand curled into fists. Masashi held his hands up defensively.

"That's not what I said! I just think we should consider all our options—"

"'Consider all our options'? What's to consider? Our prince is in danger—"

"Charging ahead blindly is liable to cause more death—"

The arguments of her soldiers faded into the background as Mikoto felt the world still around her. Sorrow turned to a blade of fury and determination in her chest. Her son needed help and every second they wasted debating was another second for him to slip out of her grasp. Taking advantage of Reina's dismounted state, Mikoto grabbed the reins of her kinshi and yanked it out of her grasp. Letting her rage and fear fuel her, she mounted it and kicked it into action before anyone could stop her.

Normally, a well-trained pegasus or kinshi would never let anyone ride it without its owner. However, the mounts of the retainers had been trained to allow their master's lieges to do so in case they needed to escape swiftly. So the kinshi responded, taking to the air easily. Ignoring the shouts behind and below her, ignoring the risks of flying while archers may still be about, Mikoto directed it north.

The poor thing was already on the brink of collapse when Mikoto had borrowed it; the rapid flight north drove it over the edge a short distance away from the gates. It stumbled out of the air, frothing at the beak, legs giving way as it crumpled to the ground. She didn't stop, didn't care, just left it there and moved on ahead.

Her legs pumped furiously, eating up distance faster than she thought possible. In the dim light cast by the lamps, she could see the gate doors slowly swinging open, troops assembled before it. The Nohrians had just started to walk through them—it wasn't too late.

The Hoshidan queen didn't hesitate, firing a silver arrow at Garon's back, intending to give him the traitor's death he deserved. But impossibly, he heard her, moving at the last minute so the arrow bit into his arm. He and his soldiers wheeled around to face Mikoto, eyes narrowing. His archers raised their weapons, but Mikoto was a fraction faster, and her next arrow was already aimed at Garon's chest. The Nohrians paused; they were at a standstill.

"One move and I release this," she growled, "and this time I won't miss."

"Queen Mikoto," Garon said, false sincerity dripping off the syllables of her name. "Showing up uninvited? That's bad manners."

She examined him through narrowed eyes. It hadn't even been a year since she'd last seen him in Izumo, yet his skin had taken on an unhealthy gray pallor, and his hair and beard were shot through with white. His eyes were slightly sunken, and his face was lined with new wrinkles. She couldn't understand what could have caused such a drastic physical change in such a short time, but she had greater things to worry about.

"I don't understand," she ground out, voice thick despite her best efforts to keep it otherwise. "Why would you do this? The treaty was right here! It was all set to be signed! Peace was finally within our grasps! You had no reason to attack! So why?"

"No reason?" Garon scoffed. "I had the only reason I needed: the glory of Nohr.

"Your mistake, Mikoto, was assuming our desires align with your own. We won't settle for snatching scraps from you like dogs, nor false peace under a worthless slip of paper. Anankos has promised us greatness, and greatness doesn't accept compromise. Greatness will accept no less than your complete and utter destruction at our hands. All he asked for in turn was your squealing albino brat."

She stared at him, fingers tightening around her yumi and arrow until she thought the weapons might snap. A wave of icy fury overtook her at his words. So this is it, she thought, almost trembling from the strength of her rage, this is the true face of Nohr. This is who you really are. My sister loved you, and you spat on everything she represented. She died for you, and in return you joined forces with her enemy—the enemy she died to warn you about!—for your own gain.

My people are right. You Nohrians really are just savages.

Hate kindled Mikoto's words when she next spoke them. "Where is my son? Answer me now, or I put this in that blackened thing you call a heart."

Without breaking eye contact, Garon jerked his chin upwards. "Iago."

A lanky, black-haired mage—so you're the Iago who caused my sister so much trouble, Mikoto thought, eyes narrowing—strutted out of the crowd. Mikoto's heart stuttered when she saw the small, unmoving form he was dragging behind him, white hair distinct even from a distance. Pulling Kamui upright, Iago grabbed his head and yanked it back, bringing a dagger to bear over his throat.

Her heart stopped. It did not resume beating for several seconds. "You're bluffing," she said, all her anger draining out of her just like that, replaced with barely-restrained fear. "You said Anankos wants him alive…"

"Anankos would prefer him alive; however, he made it clear that if the choices were alive and in Hoshido or dead and in the ground, I was to pick the latter. But by all means," Garon spread his arms mockingly, "go ahead: try me. Gamble with your son's life, and lose it."

She searched Garon's eyes, and she saw they were like a snake's. Cold, remorseless, predatory. And like a mouse before a snake, she was frozen, unable to move. He's not bluffing, she thought in despairing horror, he'll really kill him.

Her fingers ached to release the arrow into that sneering face, but she stayed her hand, mind racing as she tried to think of a way to get Kamui out of Nohrian hands. A rescue rod was her best bet, but there wasn't any way she could get at hers without lowering her weapon, and as soon as she did they'd shoot her. As soon as she moved they'd kill Kamui. The tables had been turned, they held all the cards now. Garon seemed to realize it too, smugness settling over him.

"Now, Mikoto, here's what's really going to happen," the king of Nohr said, almost pleasantly. "My men and I are going to leave, and you're going to let us. If you move even an inch, if you so much as sneeze, Iago here will slash your boy's throat open. You wouldn't want him to die so young, now would you?"

Her eyes darted around, desperately seeking an out. She would never catch them on foot, assuming she was even able to get the gates back open once Nohr closed them. The only available mount had been abandoned a block back, keeled over from exhaustion. Her soldiers weren't anywhere in sight.

Think! She screamed at herself, as the Nohrians slowly began to retreat, not turning their backs to her. Think! There has to be a way out of this! There's always a way out if you just THINK!

But for the life of her, she couldn't find it.

Her legs shook as the Nohrians disappeared through the gate, taking her son with them. Iago lingered just in view as the doors began to close again, his damned knife still over Kamui's throat, a taunt and a reminder in one. She strained her eyes, trying to memorize her son's face from such a distance as the inches between the doors shrank and shrank.

Minutes ticked by. With a reverberating boom, the gate slammed shut, and there was a sense of finality about it.

For a moment, Mikoto stared like an idiot. Then her hands immediately went for her rescue rod, casting about for Kamui, but either he was protected by magic or he was out of range; she couldn't pinpoint his presence, couldn't grab and yank him back to her, back to safety. She raised her eyes back to the gates, lips mouthing his name soundlessly.

It felt as though the world had ended. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't feel any emotion. There was no sound, no color, nothing at all. Surely, she thought, this is what death feels like. This was the summation of all the grief in her life. This was her father's body crystallizing and evaporating into water. This was her mother taking a bad fall from her horse and landing wrong. This was Anankos turning away, this was Arete's soft voice whispering goodbye, this was Sumeragi dead in a pool of his own blood.

She stared blankly at those closed doors for what seemed like an eternity until someone trotted a pegasus before her, her soldiers having finally arrived on their weary mounts, too little, too late.

"Queen Mikoto? Are you alright? The Nohrians, where are the Nohrians?"

She couldn't tear her eyes away from the gate. Her breath was coming in short gasps. Sumeragi was dead. Kamui was worse than dead, captured, in the hands of barbarians, brutes. Brutes who served Anankos. Anankos, who wanted to twist and corrupt and torment her son.

"Queen Mikoto?"

Everything was falling apart around her. Broken, mindless sounds emerged from her throat, animalistic. The world was blurry, spinning. Her grip on the rescue rod slackened, and she dropped it unknowingly.

"Queen Mikoto?"

She remembered the loving awe she'd experienced when she first held Kamui, a newborn babe. His first clumsy steps and words. Her pride at every little thing he did. All his quirks and oddities, his bare feet and messy hair and gap-toothed smile and—

"Queen Mikoto?"

He'd been so excited to go to Cheve.

Cries of alarm echoed around her, oddly distant, as she swayed. It was too much, all too much. The gods were taking everything away from her, and she couldn't bear it anymore, she just couldn't. She couldn't go on in a world where everything she loved was gone, so she took the only avenue of escape left.

She fainted.