Garreg Mach: Through the Eyes of a Commoner

The Sealed Forest Snare

Sarah looked at Claude, who readied his bow and nodded, his back flat against a nearby tree. She could barely discern his features—the sky now mimicking her state of mind with a smother of dark, gloomy clouds—but his eyes were trained on hers; bright and alert.

And beautiful.

She took a deep breath, the stench of blood on her gauntlets and armor nearly overpowering the pre-storm atmosphere, and a sense of foreboding crawled under her skin at the olfactory blend. She unsheathed one of her throwing knives and crouched, then left her hiding spot and reluctantly resumed her journey that brought her closer to unknown dangers with every step that she took.

Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, a large root, twenty-four...

Sarah kept her eyes peeled for any sign of movement in the somber ruins ahead, but focused on the terrain, studying it meticulously while she crept closer to her destination. Thirty-one, she concluded, as she reached a thick bush and hid behind it, letting out a long, silent breath. They waited a few tense seconds, then Claude followed suit with quiet, measured steps, this time crouching right next to her.

They paused for a long moment, listening carefully for anything other than the sounds of the battle dying in the background and the excited chirping of oblivious birds. Sarah's mind drifted to her memories of their mission in Remire village; a journey that had started with the soft melody of birds greeting a brand-new day, only to end with chaos, horror, and despair.

Sarah realized she probably had died that day, her face devoured by the rabid villager who had attacked her. She didn't dare ask, but deep down, she knew Byleth must have sent Claude and Felix to her rescue; how else could they have managed to attack exactly at the same time? Seeing the villager get pierced by both Claude's arrow and Felix's blade had felt like a scene taken straight out of a book she read when she was a child; surreal to the point that she wondered if she'd made it all up in her delirium.

But it had happened, and now it made sense. Horrible sense. And when she recalled that event, her body was seized by violent nausea and incapacitating dizziness, as her mind tried to fill the void with images of indescribable gruesomeness. She was relieved that Byleth had kept her safe, but also haunted by fragments of what could have been, and now forced to keep a bucket in her room, as she sometimes woke up from her nightmares to empty the contents of her stomach.

Sarah put her knife away, then looked at Claude, wishing they were anywhere else in the world, but also taking comfort in having him right there by her side.

Felix wanted to keep fighting even though he nearly bled out, so Sylvain had been forced to retreat, shoving him on his saddle and galloping away before he could get himself properly killed. For that reason, it was now Sarah's responsibility to scout ahead, and to Ashe's dismay, Claude had insisted on being the one to accompany her. He didn't dare oppose a future duke's wishes, so instead, he lent her his cloak to keep her warm—hers soaked with Felix's blood—and made Claude promise to keep her safe.

The fire in his eyes had both warmed her heart, and turned her blood ice-cold in her veins; Sarah pitied whoever dared hurt someone Ashe held dear.

"Ready?" Claude mouthed silently.

She nodded, even though she knew he could see right through her lies, verbal or not.

Claude placed his hand on her shoulder, his face lighting up with the kind of smile only he could manage in such circumstances. Sarah was usually surrounded by frowns and scowls when she was required to put herself in danger, which did little to boost her faith in herself. Perhaps it had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with Claude's ability to manipulate others, but either way, the confidence he displayed in her skills soothed her palpitating heart.