@blade-of-fraldarius | x
Claude nocks an arrow, draws the bowstring, then releases. Another. Draw, release. The wind howls around him. The wyvern screeches. An arrow clips his ear, pain blossoming at the side of his face. Instinctively, Claude squeezes the saddle with his knees, and they drop in unison, hurtling towards the earth. The world rushes to meet them.
Failnaught is rough in his hands, the bowstring is taut beneath the pads of his fingers. His arrow flies. A scream sounds from the battle below. Claude blocks it from his mind. His breathing is controlled, rehearsed; he feels nothing as yet another faceless target hits the ground. This is war. He can't afford to think about his actions. He will grieve later, not just for those he has killed, but for their families, the fragile peace Fodlan once held, and for his own shattered innocence. Oh, he and death were close acquaintances, and Claude knows he will see much more of it before the war is through. But here and now, all he can do is fight.
Skirmishes were breaking out across Fodlan, troops on both sides mustered and stationed at the Leicester border, the Great Bridge of Myrddin hotly-contested territory between the two nations. While his grandfather still retains the title of Duke Riegan, Claude is finding himself pulled ever-deeper into the murky world of roundtable politics. He'd thought some time away would clear his head, but he'd been dragged into the Ordelia-Hrym conflict, and then a letter from an old friend had found its way into his lap.
And there he is, lance in hand, fighting like a man possessed. Ferdinand von Aegir, his shouts and commands audible above even the fiercest of battles. But he's alone, fighting off three men by himself, backing against the riverbank with every step. The Empire is closing in. Another few metres, and not even his goddess could save him.
Claude doesn't have time to think. He nudges the wyvern down towards the fighting, low enough that she swoops over the brigands and thieves, her sheer bulk knocking the imperial forces aside. With a yank on her reins, Claude forces her to back up, great wings shielding Ferdinand from harm. "Catch," Claude commands, staring Ferdinand down for just a moment before, on cue, the wyvern scoops him up in her talons, gripping him by the torso and taking to the skies once more. "Hold on tight, Your Nobleness," Claude calls over the sound of wingbeats, "you're in for the ride of your life. Thank me later, yeah?"
Ferdinand could not take it anymore. He spent the past five years adjusting to a new world that was about to come, in ways he did not agree with. His words never got through to the Emperor despite his stubborness and confidence that he had the right ideas. There was never a discussion, a consideration... Everything that had happened was in secrecy and it seemed a long term plan had been set in motion that he was but a pawn of. It was a fate he could not accept. Not after he worked hard to improve himself, to become the best version of himself to be able to guide Edelgard. No. His strengths were never put to good use.
With his father stripped of his title and gone, having fled from his confines and his mother who died of illness, he had no reason to stay. The Aegir family had fallen harder and faster than he could have ever imagined and there was nothing left to stay for. Nothing that could give him hope to change the future for the better by staying in his own lands, waiting for his next order that he could not reject.
So he had written a letter to the one person who might be able to help him out. Someone would give him a second chance and help him seek refugee.
After sending the letter, he had already left home in the middle of the night on horseback. It was going to be a long journey. One that had to be done in secret with no one finding out until it was too late to capture him. His only chance was to go through Hrym and cross the bridge, no matter how dangerous it was. He was well aware of the risks and that he could possibly lose his life but he had to take it. If he fell, he would not go down easily.
And he didn’t. Even when he was cornered, injured and with his horse having fallen, he would not give in. The Goddess was almost questioned in that moment. Had this been her plan all along? Did he make the wrong decision and was this his punishment? Having lost everything, was she so cruel to even take his life?
No. His prayers were answered instead. To his surprise, the enemies were quick to disappear as a wyvern appeared in front of him. With his eyes wide, it took him a moment to see who brought a miracle his way.
“Claude!“ Ferdinand almost sighed out of relief but he was not safe yet. With talons wrapping around his torso, pressing on an open wound, he grit his teeth but he couldn’t help but smile because of his friend. May he never change.
Once they made it to a safe area, away from the fight, he was brought back down to his feet although he could not stand for long. His hands immediately pressed onto his bleeding side, finally able to feel the pain.
“If you had not arrived, I would be lying on the bottom of the river by now. I do not know how to ever thank you.“
