#good agarthan

[seiyaryudreamer]

Fire Emblem three Houses -Halcyon Fields

Chapter 1: White Clouds –Shambhala

            It was that same dream again; the world was on fire and there was little he could do to stop it. The torrent of screams from the dying, lightning from the heavens raining down upon the land, and that demonic presence that loomed over all. He was sure it was going to come, and they were the ones that would unleash such a beast. The young man ran, ran as fast as his legs would carry him, through the mad rush of people that clawed at each other to get away. He was being called, and he pushed and shoved to make his way through the crowds that tried to shove him down. The further in he got, the more he could hear the voice. A child’s? No… and yes…, he wasn’t sure. Yet as he grew closer to the epicenter, he saw the beast, giant, evil, its eyes burning with anger, and its voice thundered over his head with rage as it unleashed fire from its mouth.

A dragon?! No, not quiet and yet not. It was hard to tell. The thing seemed to fill every crevice in the crater that it had made in the center of the city. But the young man’s eyes were not upon the monster that towered above him and everything else; no, he was watching the young man that stood before the beast, eyes at the creature.

He knew this young man, not well, but he knew him. He’d seen his face before he had killed him. The purple hair tied back loosely, the noble clothing of the Fraldarius house hold, it was all the same from that day four years ago. The man in the black robe panted as he caught his breath and called out to the stranger that he knew of only in death.

“Who… Who are you… Why are you in my dream? What’s happening here?!”

The purple-haired man turned and looked over his shoulder at him, blue eyes staring with contempt, annoyance, but something else, not anger, nor hostility, something different that he couldn’t put his finger on. A nobility that didn’t ooze naturally from the man, something almost child-like. And, when the man of Fraldarius spoke, his voice wasn’t that of a man’s at all. It was of a young girl.

            “I should like to ask you the same question of who you are and how you can see this. But I assume it has something to do with your bloodline.” The Fraldarian man turned to face him, almost lazily. “If this is a dream of yours, then it is one of mine too, which means we’re both seeing the same thing. How odd.”

            “So you can’t give me a name?” the man in the black robe called out to the other man in the blue cloak. The young man shook his head. “And you know not why you are in my dream?” again a head shake. “Then what can you make of this scene?”

            “Oh, you can already tell what this is…” the man with the purple hair opened his arms wide. “This is what your leaders wanted, is it not?”

            “No… No, it can’t be. This… this isn’t….” the man in the black robe muttered as the other walked towards him. “This isn’t what I want. I… No…”

            “No… it’s not what you want, it’s what he wants, they want. It’s what they’ve wanted for a long time and it’s what will happen if things don’t change. You know things… you feel them.” The other man stooped down some to catch the man in black’s cheeks in his hand and turn his face up. “Look upon what your master’s will wrought. The time is coming, you know it. You know what is true in that heart of yours and you know what you have to do. So… are you willing to do what you can to change things, or will you let it play out again and again until it becomes right?”

            The man with the black robe watched as the figure of the man before him shifted into that of a child with long green hair. Her green eyes stared back at him as if expecting something.

            “Well, then….? What do you say…? The choice is yours. You can see what’s coming, and they can’t. Will you stand by and do nothing? Or…”

            He tried to speak, tried to get the words out, but something pulled him from his slumber and he thrashed as he felt hands around his shoulders and a different voice calling out to him.

            “Wakey Wakey Doctor Sleep. Time to get your ass out of bed.” The new voice seemed to yank him sideways and pull him from the green-haired girl’s grip. Suddenly, he was tumbling head over heels and crashing to the ground with a groan as he hit a hard floor.

            Looking up, the man adjusted his eyes to the dim green neon light that surrounded him. He blinked a few times as he stared up into the eyes of the orange-haired girl who was leaning over him. A gleefully, dangerously amused smile had slipped on her face as she stared back at him. The man sighed. “Kronya, what are you doing in my room yet again?”

            “Waking you up, stupid. Thales would be rather upset if you didn’t come and join us on time.” The pale young woman giggled as she cupped his face. “And you know how he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

            “What are you going on about? I know all this.” Her flirtations were getting on his nerves. Not that she wasn’t an attractive woman, she was. Most of those in Shambala thought so, but he knew her too well and her attitude never made her anything more than an annoyance to him.

            The man reached up and gripped her hands, then pulled them away from his face. “You can tell him I’ll be there on time if he’s worried. Now, would you move for me? I have no intention of brushing against your chest on the way up.”

            Kronya pouted and huffed as she got up from her crouched position over his head. “Oh, you are no fun, Anacharsis.”

            “Just like my father,” he muttered as he sat up. Anacharsis cracked his neck and glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. She didn’t move and again he let out a long sigh. “Are you going to sit there while I dress?”

            “Why not?” She smirked and played with a strand of her orange hair. “Not like I wouldn’t like the view.”

            He stood and stretched. “Yes, well, you may, but I would rather not be your view. So leave.”

            Kronya moved closer and put a hand on his chest as she leaned up to him. “And if I don’t?”

            Anacharis grabbed her wrist again, “Then I will remind you of why I am considered to be as dangerous as my father.”

            She backed off then as he stared her down with contempt, and there was a flicker of fear in her eyes. He knew he was using a card he didn’t like to, but if she thought for a moment he could be as cruel as his father had been, if it would get her to leave him alone for a moment, then using his father’s name was worth it. Kronya stared for a moment as she moved back to the door with a ‘Fine, whatever, be that way’ and left without looking back.

            Alone, Anacharsis let out a sigh as he sat down on his bed and ran his hand through his hair. He reached over to his bedside table and pulled open a drawer, then pressed a button on the underside revealing a hidden drawer with a book inside. Good, still there, he thought before he shut it. All his notes, all his thoughts, all his research was tucked away in that simple tome, and, should Thales find out about it, it could be the death of him.

            Once standing, he went to his washing closet, quickly cleaned and dried off. No reason to feel disgusting, even if he was soon to be surrounded by disgusting people. He thought as he pulled on his black warlock robes and fixed his collar. Unlike the men and women under him, he sported blue colors and a blue vest that made him stand out as a leader. His blue-green eyes stared back at him under a mop of blue hair, which he pinned up as best he could to keep off his neck and out of his eyes. The bangs on the right still never could stay up and he sighed deeply, pulling out the pins on that side, letting his hair hang loose, and then fixed his circlet around his head. The brand of their cult upon his forehead.

            What does it matter anyway? It’s not like I care what he thinks. Anacharsis thought as he moved away from his mirror and collected his items for the meeting. Thoughts swirled though as he pulled out books to carry to at least look like he’d come prepared to contribute to the matter at hand, though in truth, his mind was already racing on the dream he’d had.

            The boy. The place. The beast. The voice, the four things that kept repeating in his thoughts. He needed to figure them out. The place… he couldn’t quite place it, even after the extensive travels he had undergone for his leader, and that was more likely because of the nature of the dreams in the first place and the situation he saw. He’d worry about the location later, once the others had been sorted.

The beast, it looked familiar, a dragon of some sort, yet not a dragon. Large, imposing, a monster that seemed to have lost all of its senses, and yet not going on instinct. No, it knew what it was doing, knew in his dream what it was destroying, who it was killing. But it seemed lost, and not reveling in the blood and death and destruction. It was angry, in pain, the roar it sounded let him know that. But trying to remember the look of the beast, a white giant of a creature, he just couldn’t. The only thing that stood out were the eyes. He felt that there were many of them, but that only two could truly see. His face pulled into a concerned thoughtful scowl. What did the dragon mean in this case? A warning or a real threat for the future.

Anacharsis shook his head. This dream was bothersome and vexing. The voice, a child, or merely sounding as one? Who owned it, not the boy that was before him in the dream? No he remembered that voice. How could he forget it, it haunted his thoughts when he tried to be alone? Placing a hand to his forehead as he sat on his bed, he forced himself to think about the voice. Young, yet old in tone and way of speaking. She–he was sure it was a 'she'–seemed to want something from him. He knew, deep down he knew, but he was scared.

“If…” He muttered as he held his head and rested his elbow on his knee, “If Thales finds out what I’m thinking… he would kill me in an instant. Yet… yet this child was… was she encouraging me to do what she thinks I must?” He pressed his thumb to the silver sigil upon his brow, feeling the shape of the eye in the center. “Will I stand by and let it happen, or do what I must? What I have to.”

Again, a deep sigh rose from his lips. He’d always done what they expected of him, since he was young, since… since… Mother died. Since then, Anacharsis had simply done as told by Thales, or his late father. It was easier than rejecting them and being tortured. Give them what they wanted to hear from his visions and then let them do what they desired. But it was after her death that he realized she had been shielding him from the worst of it. He’d always known that Thales and his ilk were planning things she didn’t agree with, seeing as she was from the surface, but being a foreigner as well saved her from some of their more duplicitous acts against her. His mother had been gifted, as his father had told him ages ago, that he had been blessed with her gift.

With her gone, they had matured him, trained him, and taught him to focus on his powers and skills. He became their weapon and their oracle. The eye of the snake and he played the part well, at least till he was twelve and he found the book from his mother. It was the same book he had hidden in the drawer. He’d rebound it to give it more pages over time, but it held knowledge of outside Fódlan, outside Shambhala. Knowledge that he read, knowledge that lead him away from Those Who Slither in the Dark’s teachings, and knowledge that allowed him to understand more of what he saw when he had his visions.

It was because of that book that he wanted to learn more, needed to know the truth, and sought it out under the guise of trying to find information about their enemies. Any merchant who he passed by who was selling traveler books, or letters, from anywhere outside of their country, he would buy and consume. That was how he learned of the goddess that landed on the world of blue water, of how she created a single race that later became the Beorec and the Laguz, and of the strange world of Archanea that was blessed under the watchful eye of a divine dragon, whatever that was. So much of this world was far larger than he had ever figured, and his mother had led him to it with her writings.

He shook his head. Thinking of her would not work here. That girl in his dream wanted an answer, and he would have to make a choice. As he stood, he fixed his cloak and gathered his items. He would contemplate on the boy as he walked to the meeting. Being late would not be the wisest of choices.

The halls of the dorm where he slept were dark and only lit by the thin lines of glowing green energy that pulsed down the walls. He was used to the dim lights and the cold feeling of the world he belonged to. Even glancing at his pale skin on his hand, he knew exactly what he looked like, some ungodly demonic monster from the grave.

That’s probably what the Frauldarian man saw in me on that day. A demon come to destroy everything he loved. Anacharsis thought, moving down the halls. It was four years ago; he was not yet fifteen, and his father was still alive. The plan had been simple and put into motion. Cleobulus had taken the place of the mage Cornelia, and set herself into the role of keeping the second wife of King Lambert, Patricia, from her husband’s side and slowly poisoning her to make her a more willing accomplice to his assassination. Her daughter, Edelgard, was taken by Thales, who had inserted himself into the role of her uncle, whom he easily dispatched. The two, along with his father, Periander, who was acting as a noble to instill feelings of anger towards the king of Faerghus and his political motions, caused the need for the death of the man who was the holy king. Everything seemed to go according to plan.

They had sent him to help assist in the attack, to kill any noble left standing that needed to die, should the fools, as Thales called them, fail in their assassination attack. The sight of the flames and the screams were enough to make him disgusted by their actions. How was this to help revive their god? How was any of this going to make others see the faults in the Goddess Sothis? He’d moved down closer as the fighting went on, hoping to understand why Thales was so determined in these deaths. Yet nothing he saw that day had ever made him feel anything but empathy, pain, and suffering for those on the surface.

“There is no need of this,” he muttered as he moved among the wreckages. “No need at all.” He could see it in the faces of the men that lay dead on the ground, and ducked behind a standing carriage. He blinked when he saw his father take a woman from the carriage and spirited her away. A frown had crossed his lips. He did not remember this being part of the plan he had heard, but then again, they had kept much from him. Observation; that was his role here. Observe and record, was Thales’s orders on that day.

Anacharsis, though, didn’t just want to observe. He wanted to understand, and what he saw made him understand that this was not what he wanted for the surface. He wanted to live with the people here, to pray to whom he choose. Why then was this happening? What reason was there for all this bloodshed from a kingdom whose king had not sinned against them?

There was a strange ache in his heart that day, one it took four years to fully understand. Guilt. Guilt for the suffering that befell those at the tragedy that he witnessed. Guilt because it was his people's actions that had led to this, and guilt because he could have stopped it had he lied to Thales and told him a vision of failure of this plan. He’d seen it pan out the way the man wanted, but there was something in the distance, a light, a woman who appeared sleeping in that vison, but glowing with a light so powerful that he had to look away. This… person, this being, whomever she was, was going to be their downfall, he was sure of it. And it would start with this attack.

Anacharsis heard the sounds of a man muttering nearby, and turned away from his father, only to glance back and see the man was gone. Figuring he’d just wandered off with the woman some place, Anacharsis made his way to where the muttering man’s voice came from, and saw an older blonde man hovering over a young blonde boy. Both dressed in Faerghus garb and, while bloody, the two were clearly of noble birth. He moved closer, curious how the two could have escaped the attack, and listened as they spoke, staying low.

“Father, father, please get up!” the boy was saying. He was younger than Anacharsis, of that the young man was sure, but his voice showed he was no small child, though he looked younger. The boy was shaking his father, as if in disbelief at the whole thing. The Agarthan warlock bit his lip. The scene was depressing, and he wanted to turn away from it and leave them to their mourning. But something about the older man bothered him. Maybe it was the way he was standing, or the twitchy nature of his person, or just the way he held himself that bothered Anacharsis. Regardless, it gave him pause, and the young man stayed to watch.

“Uncle, he’s hurt, but he’s not getting up.” The boy was saying as he shook the body harder, probably not realizing that the man in the carriage was dead. Or if he did, he didn’t want to see it.

“No, he’s not…” the man the boy called his uncle said and Anacharsis watched as he drew a dagger from his back scabbard. “And soon you’ll be with him…”

He didn’t realize he had reached down and picked up the rock until he felt it firmly in his hand and had heard the sick crack of the stone upon the meat and bone of the skull of the blonde older man. Anacharsis watched as he fell forward, unconscious, but breathing. The boy cried out and turned to see the pale-looking teen behind him.

Anacharsis stood there for a moment, rock in hand, blood on it, along with blood on the man’s head. He tossed it aside, sure that the other cries of the dead would mask the screams of the boy or dying. He put his hand to the boy’s mouth and stared at him, his blue-green eyes meeting the bright blue of the boy’s.

“Hush. Not a sound. I’m going to get you out of here. You did not see me, do you hear?” The boy gave a nod and the young warlock nodded as he gripped the boy by the wrist. “Good. Now come. We haven’t much time.”

That was the moment things had changed for him. That was the moment he had rejected the will of Thales and Those who slithered in the Dark. He pulled at the boy firmly. He would get him away from the field. Find out who he was, where his home was, and get him to a safe town from where the boy could be brought back home to. He wouldn’t engage with the boy, he didn’t want to. But the safety of this child was now in his hands.

He knew there were those among the boy’s people who were dangerous, so he wasn’t about to take any chances. He’d locate someone outside the battlefield, a merchant, or farmer, or someone, anyone who could take the boy. He’d guide him safely from this mess. This was his goal, to lead him to safety and then vanish. He would not return to those who slithered. He would not allow for them to use him again. No more blood would be on his hands! That was his vow to himself.

They ran carefully, but quickly, through the battlefield. The boy holding his hand and stumbling a few times. The blue-haired warlock looked back at him only in these moments. “Try not to fall. The faster we go, the safer you will be.”

“But… Father… and my step mother… I…” the boy was confused, scared, and haunted by what he saw. “Why am I alive?”

“I don’t know, but bury those memories in your mind. Keep them tight and locked up. Then, when you’re older, and a man, revisit them and avenge them. Take those who killed them to task and never forget their faces, their voices. Kill every last one of them and make them pay for this tragedy.” Anacharsis told him as he lifted him over a fallen man and set him down. “Such is the will of the dead.”

The boy stared at him and was about to say something when he held up his finger to his lips. “The less we converse, the better for you. You need not know who I am. Only that my goal is to leave you alive.”

He grabbed the boy’s hand again, as he recalled, and dragged him farther from the main area of combat. Slowing down only when he was sure they were away from the fires that were set. He wiped his face and looked at the boy as he caught some breath. Good as his word, the boy said nothing to him, nor did the boy look back behind him. A small smile slipped on Anacharsis’s lips, a better choice to make for his own sanity.

As they walked, the older teen looked around. There had to be a path to lead them from most of the chaos, but it was growing darker and hard to see. “We may have to hide till morning and then, once the light of dawn comes, we can make our way to a village and you’ll be safe….”

Fast running footfalls caught his attention, and Anacharsis turned behind to see a young man about his age running for them. Sweat matted his purple hair to his forehead, and the lower tail he wore in his hair was loose. He was dressed as a Frauldarian noble, and one of the knights that had been part of the group that had been attacked. His eyes were filled with anger as he rushed them, and he was wounded. This was not good. He would not be thinking straight, Anacharsis thought at the time as the man neared.

“Let him go, you bastard. Let his highness go now!” The shout carried intimidation in its tone as the purple haired noble stopped. The blue-haired warlock stared at him. He couldn’t trust any of them. Anyone of them could be a danger to the boy he was with. Anacharsis’s grip on the boy tightened. He didn’t want to take any chances. If this boy was the prince, if the dead man was the king, then this boy was the heir and needed to make it out alive, no matter the cost.

The purple-haired knight saw this action and drew his sword. “I warn you…”

“You are in no condition to fight. The boy is safe in my care. I will not release him to you.”

Anger twitched in the young man’s face. “How dare you! Trying to kidnap the prince and daring to think that I’m a threat to him, or that I can’t fight you! I’m not so weak that I can’t stand on my own, wound or not! I’m the heir to House Fraldarius! You should remember that name, bastard.”

“An heir to a house, well that makes all the difference in the world.” Anacharsis rolled his eyes. “I say to you once more, oh heir of Fraldarius. Leave me to pass. If you are truly an ally to this boy, then you will understand I offer no harm to him. I simply intend to get him away from this battle.”

“Lies! Like I would believe a monster like you! What are you even! A demon? A ghost? Some wrath from below?” the young knight shook his head and held his sword out to Anacharsis. “No matter, I will defeat you and protect the prince!”

“Protect him from one not wanting to harm him. Bravo, such bravery,” Anacharsis’s voice dripped with contempt, “but I suppose I can’t talk any sense into that thick skull of yours. Your arrogance will not keep you safe here. So I say this to you one more time; Stand down!” His blue-green eyes were bright with annoyance as he let go of the boy’s hand and prepared to fight.

“So be it.” The knight with the purple tail said and attacked, rushing at the warlock who, as he neared, waved his hand in a fast slashing motion, cutting the air and the young man before him. A spell he had made himself and one he only used when he was in danger. The knight stumbled back, blood coming from the wound on his chest. His eyes were wide in shock, and he stared at the boy. “Why…?”

Then he fell, his face twisted in a look of pain, and one of regret, clearly thinking of something in his last moments. Anacharsis saw the boy move closer to the body and tears ran down his face. “G… Glenn!”

Sorrow came over the young warlock’s face as he saw the boy looking at the body. He moved to grab at him. They couldn’t stay here. Even if this was his friend, he didn’t know if others were coming. His hand trembled as he moved to touch the boy. Had he made a mistake? The look on the young man’s face in death haunted him. He’d come to protect the boy. But distrust was part of their way of life, or more accurately, part of his.

“I… I am…” he said when the boy got up and turned away from him. He ran, and Anacharsis rushed after. “Wait. Don’t run please! You’ll be killed back there.”

He only stopped when he saw a tall, older knight with orange hair come around the corner with other men. Something about the man’s face, his gait, his look, told Anacharsis that this man was someone whom the boy would be safe with. This prince of Faerghaus, this boy, at such a young age, had seen such tragedy. And for what, he had wondered. The young prince had run to the knight and hugged onto him. He was sobbing, shaking. Anacharsis had wondered at the time if his actions had only added to that trauma.

When the man looked up at his way, they exchanged a glance. The young warlock wasn’t sure what it was, or what it meant, but he knew the man was going to let him leave. Whatever the young prince had said, it had allowed him a moment to flee. So he took it and ran and ran. He ran hard and fast deep into the forest and slept under a tree for three days, only getting up to find some small amounts of food and water to sustain himself. He didn’t like the feelings he had. The guilt, the frustration, the fear from the boy’s eyes after he killed the purple-haired boy. And the haunting feeling of knowing he’d taken a life, something his mother had begged him not to do. It was why he’d stayed away from combat. Now, his hands were stained with the blood of that young knight, and there was nothing he could do to change it.

As he thought back on that day, Anacharsis recalled how he had been found by some of the lower rank-and-file Agarthans. How they had brought him back and Thales informed him that his father had not returned from the battle. He’d held in the truth then, about what he saw when his father took the woman from the Carriage, denying he knew where the man was. They believed him, after all his visions had brought them good fortune. His father never returned, and they promoted Anacharsis to Periander’s leadership position among the Elites in their cult.

The young warlock rubbed his temples. How was this dead knight, this man who haunted his dreams, connected to the girl? Or had she used him to get his attention and enter his mind? He was confused, but he was sure that he needed to leave, and soon. Or else his mind would break from the guilt and anger and seething hate he felt for the likes of Thales.

In the four years that had followed, he’d learned more about the surface world, about the people that dwelled there, and about the creatures that were so much more powerful than them. The one thing that he had connected to was the goddess Naga, a being that reminded him so much of his mother. He wanted to escape from here and find what he could about her. He wanted to travel away, to be free of this wretched group and bring his people above the surface to let them learn the truth of what happened with the Nabatans and the goddess Sothis.

Approaching the door to the main room, Anacharsis paused and looked at the handle. He thought of turning and walking away, but they would send Kronya to find him again. Scowling, he sighed and pulled open the door. Inside, the others were waiting, except for two. Solon, whom he didn’t know where he was at, and Cleobulus, whom was still playing the role of Cornelia in the holy kingdom. He kept his face natural as he came in.

“See, I told you he would make it in time.” Commented Bias as he stood across from her. Thales nodded and turned his white eyes upon the younger man in the room.

“A few moments more, and I would wonder if you were trying to run away again.”

“Perish the thought. Why run away when I can spend time with all of you lovely people?” He commented simply in a cool tone. “You bade us come, and I came. So,” he bowed to Thales, “What do you need of me?”

“We’re pulling together a plan to gather what we need, and we need your sight for knowing about the chances.” Thales motioned for him to raise his head. “Specifically, the day of the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth…”

Anacharsis bowed and allowed himself a vision. He stayed in his mind as the others talked. They debated and discussed and slowly, a thought came to his mind, a way to get out and free himself from the chains that bound him to them. Raising his eyes to the group, bright and full of light, Anacharsis spoke, confirming what Thales wanted to hear. After all, it was easier to tell half-truths to keep himself safe. Hearing his words, Thales seemed pleased only to explain who would go.

“If I may…” Anacharsis bowed to his leader. “I should like to accompany the men of the western church on this. It would be a wise idea to monitor them lest they try to conceal anything they find from us.”

Chilon nodded fully. “On this, I can agree. We can’t just trust these surface dwellers, nor our Flame Emperor. It would be a wise choice to have Anacharsis go with them... as a way to protect our interests, of course.”

Pittacus stared at the younger man, “Are you certain you want to venture out? Your gift is something we cannot do without.”

“I assure you, I will be safe, and will simply observe what is happening, as I always do.” Anacharsis waved off the worry and looked at Thales. “You’ve seen my work and my reports. And you can’t move the others, lest suspicious airs come upon them.” He smiled at the leader, holding in the bile he wanted to spew onto the man. “Then it is only a wise choice to send one who has given you the blessing of sight. Do you not think so?”

Thales snorted. “Don’t use such flowery words with me. I understand what you mean to do. Spying on them is a good idea though, so I’ll give you leave… this time. Don’t think you can deceive me, Anacharsis.”

“Oh, I would never dream of doing such a thing, Lord Thales.” He bowed again, his blue bangs drooping over his eyes, covering the look of loathing that echoed in them. It wasn’t long before the group was dismissed and Anacharsis hurried back to his room. He’d settled on it now. He would leave them and use this as a means out.

My answer to your question, girl, is yes. I’ll stop what’s coming and stop them from whatever their plans are. He thought as he marched down the hall with determination and a prayer to never look back.  

[darkspellmaster]

Fire Emblem Fanfiction: Three houses Fanfiction

Link below to my writing blog. This just wouldn't shut up in my mind. Much like all my stories, and I figured, why not just work on it. So here you are, the start to a fire emblem story centered around an alternative route to three houses merging in three hopes and asking, what if we threw in a good agarthan to the mix and maybe explored more of the history and world of Fodlan?

[iturbide]

You know what I like about three hopes? Ae Arval, Shez, and Shez’s mother (albeit the last two are only implied, not outright stated, to be related to TWSITD) aren’t cartoonishly evil mustache twirlers. For as much as I loved three houses, they basically pulled the whole “this entire race/civilization is pure evil” thing again (in fact I would argue that it’s a worse case this time, since at least the Plegians were given some characters who weren’t objectively evil with no redeeming qualities).

I'm really not qualified to speak in definitive terms about Three Hopes, having not played it yet. With that said, though, I don't personally count Shez or their parents as positive representation of Agarthans -- because the Agarthans don't recognize Shez, and Shez doesn't recognize them. They clearly understand that Shez has powers similar to what they're capable of, but Shez is not a known entity to them; by the same token, Shez is troubled by their apparent connection to the Agarthans based on their shared powers.

This is kind of a worse problem to me than what Awakening has with Plegia, where the only good Plegians are the ones who join you: we know Tharja and Henry are Plegian from the outset, because we recruit them in Plegia, from the Plegian side or as deserters from the cause. They give us an undeniable glimpse of the fact that Plegians are not all part of Validar's cult, and that there are good people there despite the nation's bad reputation. Shez, meanwhile, has no actual relationship with the Agarthans outside of Arval, who is himself a mystery and similarly doesn't recall any previous connection to them.

We don't know when Shez's predecessors left the Agarthan cult, whether it was their parents, their great-grandparents, or someone even older than that: all we really know is that Shez is the latest in a line of vessels for Arval's power, and that Arval was himself created by an Agarthan specifically to oppose Sothis. I personally can't find it in myself to say that Shez or their parents or any other ancestors are "positive representation" of the Agarthans, because they aren't...really Agarthans. Their only connection to Agartha is through Arval, and as much as I personally like Arval (I think he's funny and sassy and he was absolutely my favorite part of the demo), he ultimately ends up subsumed by Epimenides depending on how you play, and Epimenides is much like the other Agarthans we encountered in Three Houses.

I've talked before about the implications of Agartha as a cult. For me personally, I can't say that Shez or Arval change any of my feelings in that regard.

[dragongutsixofficial]

Pegasi in Fire Emblem have traditionally only allowed female riders (Fates being the big exception) So sometimes I have the thought of... what if trans character who doesn't know it yet discovers they are trans, or is assisted in discovering they are trans, due to whether or not pegasi will let them get on. Like:

"Willikers, John, the pegasi really seem to like you for some reason!"

"John": *ferociously processing new information*

It just... it makes me smile every time.

ATAU = Assigned Trans At Unicorn

You're absolutely right. Personally, I've always tended to think these gender locks on classes are kinda bullcrap (genderfluid and agender struggles), BUT the perspective of discovering you're trans thanks to them is a wonderful narrative we would not have otherwise and I think this is both really endearing and hilarious.

As a funny sidenote, this kind of echoes how Loki is technically a Gremory, even though this class is usually reserved to women. Heck, I'm not even sure what his gender is and I rotate him around in my mind like a rôtisserie chicken 24/7! I affectionately like to call it e̬̗͉ͣͧ̇́r̵͉̭͖̻̤ͣr͎̫̝̳̰̻̪̈́̆̉ͥ͢ǒ̼̲͙͕̫̖͓̞ͤ̕ŗ̜̖͎̰͚͑̽̈́́ ̤͔͉̙͙̟̹͚́͋̀4͖̺̥̮ͤ͢0̌͌҉̦̰̟̝̟̖̰4̿͏̩̖̫̫̜̦

[youngerfrankenstein]

To anyone who is like “wow, I wish the super intellectual and nuanced story the discoursers say 3H had was a real story” please watch Babylon 5. Also if you aren’t thinking that, still consider watching Babylon 5. It’s just a really good show.

[omgkalyppso]

enjoy this with me

[hecvenwept]

Welp guess who's gonna cancel their Fe3Hopes preorder~

[lumeha]

Thales really could've been a great antagonist and tbf, he does have those moments like in Shambala where he's like "DEATH THOSE TRAITOROUS HUMANS WHO SIDED WITH THE BEASTS!" in a very over the top tone. Unfortunately for the most part, him and the Agarthans ultimately ended up serving as an attempt to strip Edel of her villainous agency, which is a shame.

Yes ! Yes ! Yes !!! You get me, anon !

Thales has some extremely good trash talk in the Shambhala chapter ! The voice actor did such a good job. I just went to re-listen to some of them right now and it's so good.

"Now is the time. Remove the binding spell of Titanus. Let their metal bodies be drenched in blood!"

LIKE HELL YEAH DUDE I WANT TO HEAR MORE OF THAT it's so over the top and yet it's so good

He's pissed off, he's ready to burn to world, Agartha and everything just to get his revenge against the Nabateans. Honestly, the pieces are all here to make him an excellent antagonist ! He's an absolute monster who doesn't care about who suffers for his revenge, including directing human experimentation on children, he has (chef kiss) an excellent old rat bastard design, he's set-up to have all his fingers in all Fodlan's pies as a master manipulator, and...

In a way, I think that they missed the mark with his relation with Edelgard because, unlike with Arvis and Manfroy, the story doesn't let her be confronted with her own actions (and especially her actions during the White Clouds part of the game). That's why I think her character is the strongest in Azure Moon - Thales and the Agarthans aren't quite present, so she's the one taking center stage, her and her ideology only. But. I don't think not having the Agarthans is necessary for that. As long as Edelgard gets confronted by her own actions at some point. Which she doesn't really get imo. Not even counting Crimson Flower, even with all my gripes with the writing of that route, but... yeah. Silver Snow and Verdant Wind just don't really let her owning up to her actions narratively I think, which just undermines her character

Honestly, speaking about Shambhala... the Agarthan tech is also really under-used I feel. I adore the dubstep, sci-fi aspect of that specific map, the threat of the javelins of light and what they made of Aillel / Merceus / Arianrhod, their capacity to take the appearance of anyone... well. I don't know if that last point is, hm, related to tech or magic, but I suppose, at some point, even if it is magic, the way they handle magic is so wildly different from how it is handled above ground that it makes it feels more tech-y / sci-fi-y to me. I just wish we'd seen more of their weapons, more of their high tech / techno-magic shit

[procrastinatingattorney]

people still talking about 3///h and imperialism and imo i think its important to also note that this is unironically a “imperialism is good” game 😭

[fellstcr]

         ||. one last note on that last headcanon post, but i think what also makes the reality of it all so interesting is that... well the morality of going from multiple co-existing faiths in fodlan to just the one... is it right? depends on how you view it.           Assuming that people like Wilhelm were followers of the Nabatean faith as they’re implied to be (why else would he join Seiros and establish the first Church of Seiros, and then keep an actual record of the real events that led up to it all?)  then... probably. To Seiros and her allies, the Agarthans would have forfeited their right to coexistence when they took up the sword against Sothis in the first place. And again, later, through Nemesis, the Nabatean genocide, and the start of the War of Heroes. On the other hand, if you’re a devout Agarthan, you probably wouldn’t like seeing your original pantheon subverted and written out of history because of some star that fell out of the sky countless years ago.

          It’s not entirely a one way street. There’s fault on both sides. For people who know the truth of Fódlan’s past and sympathize with the Agarthan’s plight, I can see how that would be inexcusable. EVEN STILL, it doesn’t justify the needless original war, nor the Nabatean genocide, and still doesn’t excuse the modern-day war nor the atrocities committed by the remaining Agarthans themselves. The fact of the matter is that they drove THEMSELVES out of Fódlan by retreating underground after they lost the war they started. They wrote themselves out of history as a result. They can blame the Nabateans and their “False God, and the “beasts” who betrayed the Old Gods all they want, but the responsibility falls squarely on their own shoulders at the end of the day.

       And to that end, modern-day Fódlan, for better or for worse, is a realm now that does call Sothis their goddess. No matter the dubious origins, that’s the truth of the matter in Fódlan’s modern day. A lot of people stake their whole livelihoods around that faith, and those who don’t still have to acknowledge it in the same way Fodlani people acknowledge Brigid’s spirits and Duscur’s pantheon.

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

The FE fandom is unfairly criticized for their treatment of main women leads because not enough people factor in how sexist the writing is. Edelgard would get less hate if she was held more accountable. Micaiah would get less hate if she didn't get written out of the final part and awful blood-pact device. Celica and Erika would get less hate if the writers didn't hand them the idiot ball. Female leads are often awful units compared to male counterparts. The male leads always upstage the female ones or are written overall better bc they were unconcerned with making them a sellable waifu. There's definitely sexist people in the fandom, and male characters everywhere get cut more slack, and I'm not denying an element of sexism in all of this, but holding the writers accountable something that needs to get brought up more.

.

Im gonna discuss my opinions on this take now.

Edelgard is held accountable and punished for her actions by literally dying in 3 out of the 4 routes. Like the Agarthans are not blamed for what Edelgard did. She takes complete responsibility and suffers the consequences for starting a war.

Erika giving the Sacred Stone to Formortis because she believes Lyon, an extremely skilled healer and magic user who has been studying the stones will get rid of him through using it is a smarter decision than Ephraim attempting to kill THE DEMON KING ALL BY HIMSELF. Like at least Erika's plan made sense and could have worked if Lyon was able to resist Formortis. People who call Erika stupid for her scene while not doing the same for Ephraim's are hypocritical in this regard.

While SOV is quite sexist in how so many of the women are damseled, Celica sacrificing herself for Mila makes complete sense and is not rooted in sexism because at that point in the game most people believe that they still need the gods to survive and a single human life is worth less than the life of a god. Celica trusted Jedah because to her that was her only choice. What is sexist is her having to be repeatedly saved by men while nothing similar happens to Alm.

I admit I'm being extremely nitpicky with this point, but Erika and Celica both act completely in character when they make their mistakes and therefore are not Idiot Balled. Idiot Balling is when a character acts uncharacteristically stupid and out of character to serve the plot.

Idk about the specifics with Micaiah in Radiant Dawn but yeah it sucks how Ike takes most of the spotlight from both her and Elincia :/

The only female lead that is a substantially worse unit than her male counterpart is Erika. She is an outlier that should not be counted. Celica, Micaiah and Elincia all have utility that Alm and Ike Lack while Edelgard is literally just as good of a frontliner as Dimitri. And Lyn is just as weak as Eliwood.

Character writing is subjective.

You are severely overestimating the importance of waifus and underestimating the importance of husbandos to the franchise. Straight and Bi women play Fire Emblem too.

Also characters who have depth tend to be more popular regardless of their gender. It is profitable to have waifus with layers.

I am not denying that sexism was and somewhat still is a thing in the writing and gameplay of this series; However, the fandom is just as guilty in how female characters are treated - perhaps more guilty in the newest two games where these issues rarely rear their ugly head in the story and the gameplay. The fandom should be held accountable too instead shifting most of the blame on the writers.

Anyway if you read all of this, have a heavenly creature i found recently <3

[deathbirby]

I think it's a bit odd to speak about genocide when our definition doesn't even strench that far. Like, did the Nabattean got massacred by Nemesis and TWSITD? Yes, there is no denying that point. But Edelgard war? Pretty sure it's to reform the class system and allow more opportunity to the commoner/have capable people in power instead of people that got their position because of their birth sprinkled with some Church/State separation. Rhea being an endangered dragon species seem more incidental than anything. On top of that, in Hopes, wasn't Edelgard the one just want Rhea to lose her political power as opposed to Claude wanting to kill her? Was it just me? Sorry, if that's the case, I got my version at a garage sale.

Man I really wish you would keep asking silly questions instead of this :/

My biggest complaint is about how people in the Edelgard Discord (the mod in particular) try to justify the Nabatean genocide done by the Agarthans/Nemesis. You agree it was fucked, but many others in the server (including one of the mods) will say it was totally okay.

Where does Edelgard even come in? The most I've talked about her is when I tag "edelgard discourse," or when an anon talks about her.

I speculate people defend the Agarthans because Edelgard works with the Agarthans, and she cannot look bad by assocation, so the Agarthans are made to look good so she's morally right in every way. That's speculation, and it has nothing to do with Edelgard's character or motives.

My complaint isn't with people trying to defend Edelgard. It's with people trying to defend the goddamn Agarthan/Nemesis's genocide against the Nabateans and calling it fucking justified because the Nabateans are "Invasive species" who were "colonizers" who "totally deserved it."

[iturbide]

Golden Attempt anon here and AAAAAAA??? WHAT THE HELL THAT'S SO GOOD??? Seeing my ideas coming to life like this is so amazing - but now there's the aftermath to worry about, huh? Byleth trying to keep Claude safe while also trying to bond with him once more while ALSO trying to get Claude back to Riegan territory...very good stuff

HELLO AGAIN GA!ANON I apologize again for being so, so so late with this but uh

Things have been happening

so again I hope this is worth it

(this actually incorporates some stuff from another ask that is the next one on my list so surprise??)

=====

Jeralt hated the busywork that came with running a group of mercenaries.  Even after twenty years of it, he still only tolerated it on the best of days (and on the worst of days, he seriously eyed the booze he kept stashed away for emergencies).  But it was part of the life he chose when he left the Knights of Seiros with his kid: a necessary evil, maybe, but one that assured that Byleth was safe and never went hungry.  That was enough for him. 

It still felt strange, though, not having the kid around.  They’d said they had something to take care of while the band passed through a village near the border between Adrestia and Faerghus, then headed off alone -- and he’d let them, with just a few words of wisdom to go along with his blessing.  He still wasn’t sure why he’d done it, either.  Byleth had spent twenty years with the band, and the last five actively fighting alongside them, so it wasn’t like they couldn’t fend for themselves…but he’d be the first to admit he’d sheltered them, growing up.  In trying to keep from drawing unwanted attention, he’d done his best to keep them out of the public eye, to the point where he worried they might not have the social skills to get by without help.  Sure, they could probably make it as a lone sellsword, but did they know what those skills were worth?  And what were they even doing, when they barely knew the world beyond the places they’d seen on jobs with him?  

…but he remembered that Byleth had gone off with what he could have sworn was a smile on their face.  They’d always been a bit of a weird kid, and expressing emotions never seemed to come easy to them…so maybe that was why he’d said yes.  Because they’d looked happy, for the first time he could remember.  

Looking back on it now, though, it had been two years since they’d gone their separate ways.  It wasn’t as though they could send letters easily: Byleth could write, sure, but mercenaries never stayed still, so it was hard to get a letter into the right hands.  How were they doing?  What were they doing?  And how long was he going to worry about it before he got his damn paperwork done--

“Jeralt!  Sir!  Guess who’s back?”

His head came up so fast it made his neck ache.  Abandoning his work, he shouldered his way out of his tent, pushing through the gathering crowd of mercenaries at the heart of their camp…

…and there they were.  Their hair had grown out a little, and their clothes had clearly been worn and tattered and patched in places, but he’d recognize his kid anywhere.  And when they caught sight of him, there was an unmistakable smile on their face. 

“Good to see you again,” he chuckled, striding forward and pulling them into a tight embrace -- one they returned easily, holding on tight for so long he started wondering if they planned on letting go.  They did, eventually…and then there was a part of him that wished they hadn't yet.  "Took you long enough -- I was starting to wonder if you we ever coming back," he said, gesturing for the rest of the band to get back to work.  And once they were mostly alone, he softened, giving their shoulder a brief, telling squeeze.  [Did you do everything you needed to?] he signed.

Byleth nodded…and turned, gesturing for a stranger to join them.  Jeralt hadn't even noticed him by the tents ringing their central gathering point until he moved, leaning into a sturdy walking stick tucked under one arm as he walked.  He looked young -- not a child, but still younger than Byleth, if only by a couple years -- with tan skin, green eyes, dark hair left mostly loose except for a short braid on one side of his face…

Jeralt looked between his kid and the man they'd brought with them.  [Who's this?] he asked. 

Byleth looked to the stranger.  "Khalid," he replied, signing it while he spoke.  

"Khalid," Jeralt repeated.  It sounded foreign, though he'd be damned if he could place where it came from; he'd never traveled outside Fódlan.  "Nice to meet you.  Name's Jeralt."

"Byleth's dad, right?" he ventured.  "They told me on the way," he added when the mercenary shot a questioning look toward his kid. 

Jeralt made a vague noise in response, crossing his arms as he looked the man over again.  "Anybody ever tell you that you look like the guy heading the Leicester Alliance?"

Khalid didn't flinch.  "Funny coincidence," he said flatly. 

Jeralt looked back at his kid, who gave him no clues whatsoever.  Honestly, that shouldn’t have surprised him.  Sighing, he scratched the back of his head, planting his other hand briefly on his hip.  “Well, whatever the case, this probably isn’t the best place for you.  You can take some time to rest up, but then Byleth should get you to wherever you’re going--”

[Faerghus,] they signed. 

“Faerghus?” Khalid repeated.   

Jeralt felt his eyebrows go up.  [Bad idea.  The Empire and the Kingdom are going at it right now.]

[We should all go.]

He sighed, knowing that his kid got their stubbornness from him but digging his heels in all the same.  [We’ve already got a job, the Empire contracted us for work out here.]

[The battle’s already done.  The contract should be up.]

[They’ve already extended the term once, they’re likely to do it again.]

[Have you written it up yet?]

Jeralt twitched.  [I was in the middle of it when you got here.]

[Then you’re not bound.  We can go north.]

Khalid waved to get their attention.  [I thought the plan was to head into Leicester territory.  That’s where I need to be.]

Jeralt sighed, pressing a hand to his face and hooking his free hand into his sword belt.  “That’s probably a worse idea than Byleth’s.”

[Your contract here was to fight the Alliance,] they signed once he cracked his fingers to look at them.

“They turned tail and ran, which seemed strange since they managed to push us back in the first fight.  Things are pretty chaotic up there, though, judging from the word coming south.”

[The Empire’s not taking advantage of it,] Byleth pressed, [which would have been the smart tactic if they planned on making a move against Leicester.  If they’re dragging their feet, work’s going to be more reliable on the west side of Fódlan.]

He’d taught that kid too well. 

Lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender, he shook his head.  “Fine.  You win.  I’ll report to Count Bergliez, tell him we’re heading out -- if he tries to make a fuss I’ll give him a line about needing to bulk up our forces after the last couple fights.  Happy?”

Byleth nodded, looking about as smug as he’d ever seen them.  “Get some rest for now.  I’ll pass the word around and get camp squared away so we can head out early.  Hope you don’t mind sharing a tent.”

Khalid shook his head.  “Doesn’t bother me,” he replied.  “If you don’t mind my asking -- what is the word coming out of Leicester these days?  You said they turned tail mid-battle…”

“Almyra brought another invasion force to the Locket,” Jeralt said.

“Another?” he repeated. 

The mercenary captain nodded.  “Second one in two years.  Same guy leading the charge both times, as I understand it.  Shahid, or some such.  He shouldn’t be a problem anymore, though -- from what I heard, the guy in charge of the Alliance killed him this time around.”

Khalid went very still.  Come to think of it, this kid’s name sounded a lot like that Almyran’s…

Byleth reached out, laying their hand on the young man’s shoulder, and Jeralt turned back toward his tent.  A touch like that was about the closest thing to intimacy Byleth ever showed; the least he could do was give them some privacy. 

***

Byleth had never owned much, aside from their clothes, armor, and weapons; their few other possessions they’d left behind when they set off on their mission.  Coming into the tent they’d always shared with their father, they were surprised to see those few items in their usual places alongside the empty space waiting for their bedroll…and something warm fluttered in their chest, seeing the proof of how long he’d waited, and how sure’d been of their return.  

Claude -- Khalid, they reminded themselves, intent on following his lead in this -- joined them while they spread two sets of blankets across the ground.  It would be a bit tight, sleeping three to the tent, but manageable…

He drew a breath, slightly unsteady, and Byleth looked up to find him staring down, past them and the bedrolls and into some distant place they could not guess at.  [When you found me,] he signed, the movement unable to hide the tremor in his hands, [you said Fódlan needed me.  This is what you meant, isn’t it.]

[In part,] they agreed. 

[There’s more?] he asked.

They nodded, and he sank awkwardly down to sit on the blankts, his bad leg stretched stiffly out before him as he pressed his face into his hands.  “Of course there is,” he chuckled, the sound hoarse and devoid of any warmth.  [What else?] he asked, lifting his head again to watch for their reply. 

Byleth shook their head.  [You don’t know?] he pressed.  [Or you won’t say?]

[I only know it will get worse,] they replied. 

[And that’s why we’re going to Faerghus?]

[I don’t know if it will be any better there,] they admitted, [but you should be safer there than you would be here or in Leicester.]

Khalid made a quiet, thoughtful noise, folding his hands before him.  “I’ll take your word for it.”

They nodded, reaching out to touch his shoulder again before rising to their feet.  [Get some rest.  I’m going to help around camp, and find something to eat on the way back.]

He nodded, turning his gaze to the canvas wall (though his attention seemed to drift far past it, into an invisible, unknowable distance they could not reach).  And they left him to his thoughts, knowing all too well the pain of returning to a world so different from the one they’d known…but lost for how to offer any solace.

[fleshing-out-fodlan]

I think this is a nice moment of Edelgard consoling Byleth after Remire Village. She’s often criticized as being heartless for her response to Jeralt’s death and even if I disagree I can see where people are coming from with that. But I think this exchange shows that she genuinely cares for Byleth.

She learned first hand about the limits of human strength during her experimentation as a child so she knows that, while this weakness/failure must be acknowledged, it’s also not something to feel bad about. She also states the importance of staying positive which I think speaks to her coping mechanisms. Throughout her involvement with the Agarthans, she found comfort in imagining the good she can bring to the world by using the power they gave her instead of dwelling on what she lost. I think understanding this mindset is important in understanding her reaction to Byleth grieving Jeralt. While her response was admittedly harsh and for many people would probably not be particularly helpful, it was a result of this mindset. While grief and failure should be acknowledged, it is not something you should dwell on. After Jeralt’s death, she feels Byleth is focusing too heavily on her loss instead of looking to the future and making plans for how they can manage the situation. She thinks it’s ridiculous to “wait for time to heal [your] wound” because time itself doesn’t do anything. Your actions and your mindset are what allow you to heal, hence why she emphasizes the importance of “stay[ing] positive through the horror.”

She says to Byleth that she does not want to “stand still” with her but rather wants to “move forward.” Edelgard’s focus has always been on looking to the future and trying to take another step forward and, as stated above, this is what allowed her to get through her grief. She feels that, by allowing Byleth to wallow in her grief, she would simply encourage self destructive behavior. So, while the phrasing of her statement is harsh (and I believe Edelgard in general struggles with phrasing her thoughts in ways that will be well received by others), the sentiment isn’t. She would rather move forwards with Byleth, helping her to learn to cope with her loss, than simply sit around and cry about it in a way that she feels will only hinder Byleth’s growth.

[teaveetamer]

The Edelgard discourse really is a never ending nightmare, that's incredible how someone can fight over how" you misunderstood a character" because they like her so "she has to be clean", in a game designed for 12 year old little boys. Man, it's like the MHA fandom fighting to death over ships in a manga designed for teenagers

I think the thing that baffles me—the thing that has always baffled me—about this discussion is just how much of a no-win situation it is to try and discuss any interpretation of Edelgard besides the one they obviously want you to have.

It's always like:

Them: Guys Edelgard is such an amazing, complex, morally grey character! Me: Yeah, but I really didn't like how she sided with the Agarthans and continued working with them even after she found out about the fact that they were doing human experimentations. I don't think that was worth the cost. Them: Wait no you're wrong she never did that and even if she did she totally had to because they were forcing her. If she had it her way she would never do anything bad ever we swear.

Like? That doesn't make her a morally complex character? In either scenario? If she would never do anything bad ever then she's not morally complex she's literally an angel. If she only did bad things because she was forced to, not of her own volition, then that strips her of the agency that would be required to make her morally complex.

And the absolute irony of parading out "she's morally grey" as a conversation ender or to get you to stop talking about the bad things she's done. "Morally grey" should not be the end of the conversation. It's the start. Things that are "morally grey" are inherently things that can be argued about, because the entire point is that it is not clear-cut as to what is the correct decision.

Look at the classic Trolly Problem. For the five people in the audience who are unfamiliar:

If you do nothing, five people will die. If you divert the train then one person will die. How you answer will depend on your own morals and values, and there's not really a right answer. Someone is going to die no matter what you do, and that's horrible.

You could argue that diverting the train is the correct thing to do, because you would have overall less loss of life (one death vs. five).

You could also argue that not diverting the train is the correct thing to do, because flipping the switch is an action on your part. You, specifically you, killed the one person because you are the one who made the decision to flip the switch.

When it's laid out like this, many people choose to flip the switch. However, there are variations on the Trolly Problem. If, for example, the choice was between doing nothing and physically shoving one person onto the tracks to stop the train, the number of people who are willing to sacrifice one person for the sake of five drops pretty significantly. Being closer to the consequences of their actions (it's much easier to justify choosing to kill someone when it's just flipping a switch vs. physically shoving them onto the track) weighs on their conscience more heavily.

But if you were the person being shoved? There's nothing morally complex about your role in things. You didn't decide to stop the train yourself.

That's how conversation around the moral complexity of Edelgard feels. Her stans want to insist that she's simultaneously morally complex while also not believing that it's possible to hold an honest, good faith opinion that she's anything other than completely, 100% correct to do what she does. She's supposed to be complex while also being the body being shoved onto the tracks by powers greater than she. They treat every conversation like it's a foregone conclusion that Edelgard is the body, so they can't comprehend why you might want to talk about complexity.

And just as a side note because I know someone is going to send this post around or screencap it or something and say "look at Vee, she's such a fucking idiot for not getting that Edelgard is pulling the switch in her metaphor! Fodlan was going to be ruined without her!"

I would actually argue that Edelgard's action might have done more harm than her inaction would have. Dimitri and Claude were already reform-minded people who had plans to institute changes in their countries as soon as they were old enough to succeed their positions. Dimitri openly defines his positions on crests (they are powerful and useful tools, but ultimately he believes people without them have their own unique abilities that should be elevated as well) and states his intent to exonerate the people of Duscur and provide reparations to them for what Faerghus did. Claude talks numerous times about his desire to tear down the barriers between Fodlan and Almyra and foster understanding and mutual trust between them. Rhea had always intended to step away from the Church of Serios once she'd revived Sothis, and she wanted to pass that responsibility to Byleth when the war began. Crests were already dying out anyway, and Hanneman was already working on tools that would narrow the gap between crested and non-crested people. If she had done absolutely nothing it is incredibly likely that Fodlan would have taken the course of reform anyway, just without one country being in charge of the entire continent. Nothing about the war actually changed either Dimitri or Claude's perspectives on anything, and in fact at the end of AM and VW they go on to do... basically exactly what they said they were going to do from chapter 5.

Her war actually delayed major reforms in Faerghus and Leicester, because Dimitri and Claude had to put all of their energy toward fighting the war (and in Dimitri's case, surviving on the streets) instead of focusing on reforms.

[raxistaicho]

Why do you think so many people consider Crimson Flower to be poorly written?

The vast majority of them that I've seen just don't like the route because they disagree with Edelgard, or they confuse a route being shorter than the rest with it being unfinished or poorly-written.

For my own part, I think the pacing of the other routes sucks and a lot of chapters are just about approaching the Empire and have nothing to do with advancing the plot. The Great Bridge, Garreg Mach Defense, and Aillel are good examples of this.

Hunting by Daybreak is really nice from a thematic standpoint, but from a gameplay standpoint it's fucking awful. Then you have Gronder II, which was created purely for trailer bait because it's totally missing from half the routes and the actual battle itself doesn't matter. No, not even in Azure Moon, honestly, because they could have had Rodrigue get shanked in just about any map and it's all the same in the end.

Like seriously, would Crimson Flower be any better if it had a Hunting By Daybreak, Gronder II, or Aillel analogue, which would equalize its chapter total with Silver Snow? Fuck no, lol.

And of course, to refute the "unfinished" argument, Crimson Flower has the most unique set of maps after chapter 11, and it's very clear the developers put a lot of work into rebalancing the campaign around its shorter length (there's a pretty well-done Reddit post that goes into this in more detail). Contrast that against Silver Snow where they did baffling shit like have Edelgard take her deployment slot with her when she left and put Miracle on about half the units in the endgame.

People complain about the lack of fighting the Agarthans, but they forget the Agarthans in and of themselves are always only fought and dispatched in a single chapter after the time skip (CF 16, AM 19, SS 20, and VW 21) and the actual fight with them is always a narrative afterthought (Dimitri doesn't even realize he fought them, in VW they're fought to justify Nemesis's return and in SS they're fought to put Rhea at near-death so Byleth can take over), so it's clear the writers considered them a distant second to the conflict of ideals between Edelgard and her adversaries.

The Agarthans are there to escalate the conflict and serve as a red herring that Three Houses is going to be an FE7-esque story where the conflict is a low-key one against an evil cult before chapter 11 changes everything, not to be the true villains of the story.

Just about the only problem I think is cogent is the lack of high quality cutscenes in Crimson Flower. It could really have stood to have one more (either Rhea striking down Byleth or Byleth reuniting with Edelgard) cutscene to equalize it with the number of unique ones in AM (Dimitri's freakout and Byleth's reunion) and VW (Byleth's reunion and Claude and Nader... shooting at each other.), but much of the problem is it can't reuse the shared cutscenes the other routes have for obvious reasons.

Then there's the nonsense, "Edelgard has no character development in Crimson Flower!" argument which just confuses character development they didn't like for not having character development at all.

Good question, thanks for dropping it!