All This Time

Almyra

They had finally made it back to Claude's homeland.

Skye flapped her wings powerfully above the many buildings, and Claude urged his wyvern onward to land. They dipped downwards, landing gracefully as Nader followed him.

"It's been five years since I've been here," Claude mused, holding onto the reins of his wyvern. "I wonder what has changed..."

"I think most people are sick of the king," Nader told him, bravado resonating in his brisk tone. "They'll be awaiting your return, Claude."

"The return of a somewhat royal boy who affiliated himself with Fódlan?" Claude chuckled knowingly and bitterly. "I think they'll be ready to riot against me."

"No," Nader shook his head in complete disagreement. "Not with me by your side! It'll take some convincing, of course, but that's right up your alley."

"What if they want to take up arms against us..?"

"I know it might seem odd, but Almyran's are starting to tire of all the bloodshed," Nader shrugged. There were millions of small buildings, and Skye growled as she walked further. "They just want reform, but the king isn't granting it."

"Well, he's in for a rude awakening," Claude muttered as they approached the city of Almyra. He was starting to sweat from the sheer amount of heat; he was wearing far too many clothes. "I forgot how hot it was here."

"Just go bare chested!" Nader grinned. They made their way through the city on their wyvern, and people slowly began to gape at the two people walking through. "Oh boy."

"Are you...Are you who we think you are?" A woman with wide amber eyes asked hesitantly, immediately lowering her lumber axe.

"That depends," Claude shrugged, nervously tightening his grip on the reins of his wyvern. He would pull out an arrow to twirl, but he didn't want to alarm people. This is it. Do they hate me for being half-Fódlan? "Who do you think I am?"

"Are you...Claude von Riegan?" Another man asked warily.

Claude slowly nodded. He was worried about the reaction he'd receive from the group; he had figured most Almyrans would hate him.

"You can save us!"

A little boy rushed up, a hopeful look in his wide green eyes. Claude felt guilt rush through him; this boy reminded him of himself. Young and naive, outcasted because of his Fódlan heritage.

Claude had abandoned the throne when he was young, instead being sent off towards Fódlan on his own insistence. While it had taken forever for him to be legitimized as a proper heir to the Riegan, he had done it.

Then he'd gone to the Officer's Academy, and met Teach. He'd fallen in love with her...and then he'd left. He left her behind...

I'm coming back. It's not like you to think so pessimistically.

"Claude," Nader tried to nudge him, forgetting the were on wyverns. Claude snapped back to reality, realizing that the many people watching wanted something more from him.

"...People of Almyra," Claude started, somewhat distracted still from the thought of his Teach. "I know times have been tough. People have branded us as good-for-nothing barbarians. But this is the start of change."

"Change?" A slim, brunette woman narrowed her gray eyes. "How? You can't just change the way people think."

"As you may know, I came from Fódlan," Claude didn't get to finish his sentence as someone began to boo him. Claude cleared his throat, and someone in the crowd hit the person berating him. "Fódlan will soon become a non-isolated nation. One that opens it's borders, and doesn't discriminate. No, I can't change the way people think. But over time, people will begin to realize that us Almyrans...we aren't like they think."

Everyone stared at him in attention, eyes wide. These were the people in Almyra that Claude worried about. They were kind, desperate souls that were stuck in poverty. Most of these people didn't even look as if they owned nice clothes. Almyra didn't have nobility; each person could try to win their own duties.

It sounded good in theory, but the system was set up in a way where most people were denied access in favor to those with money. The King personally endorsed systems that paid workers the bare minimum.

"...As some of you may have recognized," Claude hesitated, but upon seeing everyone's hopeful face, he pressed on. "I left here awhile ago. I am the son of the king...and I will help reform our country."

"You're the son of our king?" Someone whispered distrustfully. "You're just like him, then!"

"No. I barely even know my father," Claude's lip curled in slight distaste. He had always been outcasted, and instead of helping, he had been relegated to Fódlan instead.

"Nader, is it true?" The people questioned, whispering in surprise at Claude's true identity. "Will he be able to help us?"

"Yeah!" Nader grinned enthusiastically. "We just need to wait. We'll settle this, don't you worry! With luck, we won't even have to fight anyone-"

In an instant, a hand axe flew towards Claude's face. He ducked, hearing it whizz above him. When he looked up, he saw an army walking towards him, axes in hand. They had helmets that obscured the looks on their faces. They must have been his fathers loyalists.

Not that he ordered them, of course.

While Claude wasn't close to his father, Claude knew he wouldn't try to kill his own son. He immediately took to the sky, waving as Nader hoisted his own wyvern upwards.

"I'll be back!" Claude shouted downwards to the people, and they cheered. Nader began to fly away, and Claude followed him as they disappeared into the vacuous sky.

They left the infuriated infantry behind in Almyra.