🖤"Until the End of the Line"🖤 (FEW3H Linhardt x Caspar)

•°"Prepare for Battle!"°• (Chapter 1)

Linhardt shivered. As he looked around camp, he saw everyone preparing for battle. The upcoming fight was going to be a huge turning point for Adrestia, they were about to capture Garreg Mach. Archbishop Rhea had already transferred herself to the Kingdom, so it wasn't going to end the war or anything. Linhardt despised war. He hated all the blood, all the bodies he'd stacked up over those two years, all the anger and sadness. However, he reluctantly had to admit that war was an excellent time for crest research on his allies, since he could observe them during battle, and how their crests would afffect their fighting.

"Hey Linhardt!"

Linhardt whipped around. It was Caspar. His heart started beating faster, and he felt quite nervous. He took a deep breath and calmed himself down. Caspar's face was pink, and sweat dripped off of his skin. "Wanna train with me, Linhardt?" he offered. Linhardt shook his head. "I dislike fighting as it is, I just wanna be on my own before we start fighting." he told Caspar.

"Oh, c'mon! You barely ever train anyways, this'll be good practice!"

Linhardt rolled his eyes. "No means no, you big oaf."

Caspar finally gave up. "Alright." he said. Though his face was full of sadness at Linhardt's rejection.

Linhardt groaned. "Fine, we can train. But don't punch me so hard I start bleeding, okay?"

Caspar's face brightened. He ran up to Linhardt and gave him a peck on the cheek. "See me at the training grounds!" he yelled, running off to the training grounds.

Linhardt's face turned bright red, and his heart was beating so fast he thought it'd pop out of his chest. What in the goddess' name was that? He wondered.

He tried his best to clear his mind as he walked over to join Caspar in training. Caspar was discussing something with the training instructor. He then ran over to some dummies and began setting them up. Linhardt began feeling nervous. Caspar was the son of THE Leopold von Bergliez, possibly the empire's strongest general. Count Bergliez's training was brutal, Linhardt was told. Caspar's training was likely no better, if he had to guess.

He continued to the training grounds, anxiety gnawing at him.

Caspar finished setting up the dummies. They were in a vertical line, the one in the front hiding all the others behind it. Linhardt quickly counted them all, concluding that there were sixteen dummies, one in front of the other. Confusion swept over Linhardt. What kind of exercise was this? Nevertheless, he walked over beside Caspar, looking at the training dummies.

Caspar's eyes were full of excitement.

"Your dad taught me this training exercise for gremories, warlocks, mages and dark bishops! I have to show it to you." he saw, his voice full of happiness. Linhardt sighed. "My father? He's quite an advanced magic user. I don't think this is a good idea." he told Caspar.

Caspar shook his head. "C'mooooooon! You just gotta do it, y'know?" he encouraged Linhardt. Linhardt rolled his eyes. "No, I don't know. Could we just do like... dodging exercises or something? Like last time?" he pleaded.

"No way, Linhardt! Waldemar told me this was good training for magic users, so it has to be! Just try it, okay?" he begged. Linhardt sighed. "Fine, but only because you clearly seem desperate to get me to do this."

Caspar slapped Linhardt on the back. "That's the spirit! C'mon, try it out!" he encouraged.

Mustering all the magical power he had at his fingertips, Linhardt sent a fiery ball tearing through the training dummies, sending leather, cloth and wood flying across the training grounds. Everyone at the training grounds stopped in their tracks to stare at Linhardt.