#it's finally done...

robin.

supports: hmm... while i love frederick/mu, the in game supports themselves feel kind of weird making the jump from being platonic to romantic... but honestly, they work for me! i think it’s just the format they’re presented in that feels a bit jumpy and choppy? in any case robin helping frederick get over an aversion and better himself for it is very cute. i like it.

inheritance: obviously, the mu is the best parent for any child unit. robin would provide access to every class in the game, so long as it isn’t gender locked-- and heck even her growth rates would vary wildly depending on how you set robin’s. 

hair colour: i just used the default one here or else i’d have gone insane, but a lot of the custom colours did look really cute! i’m especially fond of the araceli-esque blue. :3c

sibling(s): she’d get morgan as a younger sibling... or two! which... could be a pretty fun dynamic. being morgan’s sibling would be the only instance in which irene is older.

overall: the most important thing to note about the mu is that every interpretation, default or custom, is wildly different. while this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it does make it kind of hard to pin down what irene’s life would have been like with robin as her mother (...or other father). that said, the mu’s disappearance would definitely have inspired her to keep going with her training as a knight. unaware of what truly happened to her missing parent, irene would hope to find them someday. again... this really does depend on the mu and their interpretation-- but all in all, a solid irene.

final rating: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ ( 7 scales tipped out of 10 )

chrom.

supports: the supports in game are fucking hilarious, but i don’t know how i feel about them in a romantic context? 

inheritance: chrom’s lord class is non-inheritable, but at least irene would get aether and the (albeit unrealized) ability to wield falchion, if lucina’s sibling supports are anything to go off of! otherwise, the only new class irene would get out of the mix is archer, and i actually couldn’t find the village maiden!lucina stat modifiers for a reference... but chrom’s default growth rates are the highest in skill and speed, so i feel like him as her father would definitely influence that. as for the brand, it’s on the back of her neck!

hair colour: yknow i didn’t think i’d be crazy about lord blue(tm), but it looks really nice with brown eyes... also, irene wouldn’t have to rely on magic to disguise herself as lucina while acting as a decoy. :3c

sibling(s): i’ll admit i’m not the biggest lucina fan out there anymore after some... personal stuff, but i do think lucina would be a cute older sister for irene... if not a little intimidating. while irene would idolize her big sister, she would also often feel as though she’s left in lucina’s shadow... which wouldn’t help much with her self esteem-- hell, she’d feel as though she HAD to work as hard as she already does just to match up... and it could lead to extreme recklessness on irene’s part-- which is NOT something you’d want from a princess of the realm or a knight. 

overall: i love princess irene, but chrom isn’t exactly my first pick for her exalted parent-- mostly because of lucina and the very limited class pool irene would get as a result; she’s barred from lord and chrom’s only other class that doesn’t overlap is archer... like, oof? that said, i honestly do really love the idea of chrom BEING irene’s father. he’s just... such a good dad? he’d really, really help her unlearn a lot of the habits she drilled into herself to be a “model princess” and ideal knight just by... you know. being himself! being younger than lucina, irene’s memories of chrom aren’t as vivid, and honestly a little warped by her sister’s and other father’s perceptions... getting to know the real man would be. so good for her!!! tldr chrom could be a really great dad for irene, but... he has a few teensy things holding him back from being phenomenal. when it comes to royal irene i love papa chrom, but i do think uncle is a bit better.

final rating: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ ( 6 unpeeled oranges out of 10 )

lissa.

supports: they’re cute! they’re not my absolute favourites, but lissa getting to marry her first love is sweet. i just happen to prefer frederick and lissa with other people.

inheritance: i’ve always really liked the concept of pegasus knight and healer irene, and lissa provides both of those things with the cleric, troubadour, and pegknight lines! also galeforce. gotta love galeforce. while they’re classes that would take a bit of work for irene to really blossom in, from a character development standpoint i think they’re wonderful. like-- she doesn’t have to imitate frederick entirely to be just as good of a knight, she can incorporate things her mom taught her as well. like owain irene does have the brand surface as lissa’s daughter, and it’s still on the back of her neck.

hair colour: lissa’s blonde and emmeryn’s blonde are actually super close in colour! it’s nearly impossible to tell, but emmeryn’s is slightly more saturated. either way i prefer irene with darker hair colours, but the royal blonde is cute.

sibling(s): oh dear god i don’t think irene’s equipped to handle owain of all people as her older brother... she was a really shy little kid, and as much as she’d love owain i do feel like his energy would be........... overwhelming?????? for her? that said i think owain would also know when to dial things down for her sake... that said, irene would really admire owain and while not bold enough to take part in justice cabal shenanigans, she would support them from a distance! still, being lucina’s cousin is... hard.  

overall: i actually don’t have strong feelings on momther lissa one way or another! it’s a pairing i’m not overly invested in, but it’s one of those pairings i think would be cool in-game, if irene was an actual unit. it’d... just come at the cost of messing up owain imo. sooo yeah. it’s not awful, but there are definitely better pairings out there.

final rating: ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆ ( 5 frog pranks out of 10 )

sully.

supports: i do like the tidbit that sully was training for knighthood at 15-- it makes the headcanon that ylisse was so desperate for recruits during the apocalypse they were knighting trainees that young a little more plausible, as my hc is that irene was knighted at the tender age of 15 for those exact reasons. that said, the supports themselves are kind of... meh. they felt perfect leaving off at a, the s-rank feels a bit “well we have to marry them off now so you can get the kid i guess” and shoehorned in than anything. 

inheritance: sully shares her base class with irene, but since frederick also has the wyvern rider class in his kit, the only new class offered to irene is myrmidon... which is kind of sad. myrm’s a great class, but OOF that class pool...

hair colour: sully’s red is the softest and dullest out of all the red haired gen 1s, and it’s nice on irene... but eh. there are nicer.

sibling(s): ... i just don’t like kjelle all that much. i don’t know why. i never really use her... i think it’s because she’s an armoured unit and eh, no thanks. i like the idea of irene and kjelle being friends, though... just not siblings.

overall: while having two knightly parents would make irene’s transition from shy, girly child to lady knight a lot easier, sully... is not a mom i’m a huge fan of for irene. her class pool is ridiculously limited, the family dynamic with kjelle isn’t one i’m a huge fan of... while i think irene would be inspired by and look up to sully, it’s hard to see her as irene’s mother. more like a mentor, if anything. you feel?

final rating: ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆ ( 4 business swords out of 10 )

miriel.

supports: i’m actually doing this one in my current awakening run! while the supports are fun and i like them, i’m... not a huge fan of their ending and ‘miriel vanishing for weeks at a time’. like. uh. okay.......... cool........... i guess?? that said, they’re nicer than sully’s supports lmao.

inheritance: miriel flips irene’s entire concept on its head-- as frederick’s daughter, she’s a very physical based unit who doesn’t really... excel at magic. meanwhile, all of miriel’s classes are magic. a miriel!irene inherits the mage, dark mage, and troubadour lines-- while i think she’d struggle with anima, light, or dark magic, i always see irene as having a natural, innate talent for healing. she would make a decent war cleric! 

hair colour: miriel’s hair is one of my favourites in the game and irene pulls it off well! it’s that pretty, dark red...........

sibling(s): maybe i’m just biased and adore bp too much, but the entire reason i like miriel as irene’s mother is because of laurent! i think they’re a nice match as siblings. studious, observant, kind laurent and his little sister... they’d both take care of everyone else and it could probably be a little overbearing, but... it’d be really sweet. i love it. i also headcanon laurent to have been the one who used his magic to make irene’s hair blue whilst she pulled a frey and acted as a decoy in the bad future... the angst potential there is lovely. imagine realizing your little sister embarking on what’s basically a suicide mission really is the only way to slip past enemy lines to safety? and setting her up to do just that?  r i p laurent. but also please consider irene being a late bloomer to non-healing magic and her brother teaching her. it’s good shit! >:3c

overall: the main appeal of miriel to me is getting laurent as a brother, and the concept of a late-blooming magical irene. miriel’s and frederick’s supports are good but i’m not 100% sold on their ending, and there are just frederick pairings i like better.

final rating: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ ( 7 mysteries of the universe solved out of 10 )

sumia.

supports: YES??? YES!!!!!! mu aside, frederick is my favourite sumia pairing! ... out of what’s available in game, anyways. sumia’s just so earnest and eager to help out as much as frederick does and he’s endeared by it and I’M endeared by it and they’re just so ridiculously SWEET it rots my teeth and yes pLEASE...

inheritance: sumia passes down pegasus knight, cleric, and knight-- once again giving me the option of f a l c o n  k n i g h t  i r e n e complete with galeforce. and i love me some f a l c o n  k n i g h t  i r e n e.

hair colour: it’s lighter and less saturated than her default fred brown, but sumia’s hair is very pretty on irene... i like it a lot! 

sibling(s): i know i said owain would probably be a little overwhelming to have as a brother, therefore it ought to be the same for cynthia... but i actually don’t see that being the case! before their parent’s deaths, cynthia was shy and soft and girly-- much like irene. i can see both sisters vowing to grow stronger and become knights of ylisse together-- they just have different ideas of what constitutes heroism. irene’s vision of a hero is more like their father’s: someone who’s always looking after everyone, even when it goes unnoticed-- and sometimes it works better when it’s unnoticed. cynthia is dazzling glamour and drama, ready to punish evildoers in the name of the moon with the coolest entrances and speeches ever. she keeps morale up with theatrics and works hard to be that shining light for everyone with them, where irene supports from the shadows. while she’d be adverse to acting out cynthia’s flights of fancy in the bad future, she... could be roped into trying in the past, and it would help her kick a lot of her reservation and shyness. cynthia and irene are good sisters and i love them!!!

overall: i love fredsumia in general, so sumia as irene’s mom is just so good to me already???? even without thinking about it too deeply, i can just look at sumia and be like ‘yeah, she could have a kid like irene.’ 

final rating: ★★★★★★★★★☆ ( 9 flower fortunes out of 10 )

maribelle.

supports: i actually really like frederick’s and maribelle’s supports. they’re hilarious and sweet and just-- yeah. i like maribelle being willing to learn menial tasks to better instruct her own servants and just... yeah!!! it’s cute!!! i like maribelle/fred!

inheritance: maribelle gives irene a lot of the classes lissa does-- troubadour, pegasus knight... then mage. anything that can give me galeforce falcon knight irene is a good time!! it’s a shame brady could do better for a father...

hair colour: god maribelle’s hair is bright... but it looks cute with the brown eyes!

sibling(s): oh my god brady and irene would be really cute as brother and sister... they’re both soft kids(tm) and the narrative of irene having to work really, really hard to become a knight lends itself well to her being a duchess’ daughter!! i also have a hc that irene used to hang out in whatever ‘medical bay’ brady cobbled together after his scare with that guy who became a risen mid-healing, to both have an excuse to avoid any burning of bodies and protect brady from another incident... look they’re just. cute.

overall: while it does sacrifice some of brady’s potential, irene being maribelle’s daughter is solid and interesting!! fred’s and maribelle’s supports are genuinely good, irene’s backstory lines up well with maribelle being her mom, brady’s a great brother, and gameplay wise she gets good class options! maribelle? solid choice!!!

final rating: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ ( 7 parasols out of 10 )

panne.

supports: these are actually supports i quite like! frederick learning new things and overcoming fears are always a joy to see, and seeing a more relaxed side of panne is really cute... they’re good!! 

inheritance: panne gives irene a unique class in taguel, as well as thief and wyvern rider! while she’d have to be very careful of anti-beast weapons, the thought of irene with the bunny ears is... cute...

hair colour: dark colours really do suit irene; i just wish i had the patience to edit taguel ears onto that icon... because she’d definitely have them.

sibling(s): mmmm yarne’s another kid i’m not huge on, and i do feel like they’d clash as siblings... while yarne is self preserving to a fault, understanding the weight of his (and irene’s) legacies as the literal last two taguel in the world, irene throws herself into danger regularly as a knight without any regard for her own safety. there would... probably be arguments about it. i dunno, yarne just... also doesn’t work as fred’s kid imo?? it could just be personal preference...

overall: taguel irene!!! taguel irene!!! while i love panne’s and fred’s supports and the concept, the family dynamic with yarne just... doesn’t... click very well for me? they really do feel like they’d be at each other’s throats a lot over clashing ideologies, and mmmm it would be fun for character development, but... i dunno. i’m just not feeling it as something to write?

final rating: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ ( 6 carrots out of 10 )

cordelia.

supports: NO!!! cordelia’s supports with frederick are some of my least favourites in the game!!! i blame the mention of c h r o m and how it is in-context. it’s like frederick’s just... settling for being second best, even if cordelia claims she’s giving up on chrom, then considering severa’s recruitment dialogue... mmmmmm. i don’t... like that... they both deserve better...

inheritance: cordelia’s fun in that between all of her class lines -- pegasus knight, mercenary, dark mage -- she can use every single weapon in the game. this trait passes on to both irene and severa, and irene does get some nice options to play around with 

hair colour: the fiery red is nice, actually, but it’s a little TOO vivid to suit irene...

sibling(s): i feel like severa’s bold and abrasive nature would either extend to her little sister or she’d be an overly smothering big sister to overcompensate for perfect mom cordelia’s absence. there’d be no in between, and shy, meek irene would... suffocate from it. they’d work better as friends than siblings.

overall: while this would be a nice pairing in a playthrough WITHOUT ruining severa in the process, i don’t like it much in context. the supports are some of my least favourites, severa isn’t a good fit for irene’s sibling, and i... just like both units with other people! 

final rating: ★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ ( 2 unrequited crushes out of 10 )

nowi.

supports: okay, the supports themselves are nice. they’re a sweet concept-- nowi wanting to make sure frederick receives recognition for all his hard work, despite him being content just... helping from the shadows. that said i still... can’t get past the whole nowi looking like a child thing. i know she’s over 1000 years old but it still feels super awkward to me? then again that’s a nowi complaint in general... so... rip nowi i really do love you i swear--

inheritance: manakete irene!!! manakete!!! irene!!! nowi also gives mage and wyvern rider, as well as decent magic growths-- late bloomer magical dark knight irene is fun, but... manakete irene

hair colour: nowi’s green is pretty wild, but i think that with the long ears it’d be cute!!

sibling(s): nah and irene would prooobably make cute siblings, but i don’t think nah’s backstory gels well with irene’s. in nah’s, both of her parents died when she was an infant. i hc frederick was among the last to die. something has to be altered pretty radically for this to fit, or else fred just up and ditched his kids, and... no. 

overall: honestly this would be one of my favourites if not for the massive edits to irene’s overall concept and the nowi problem(tm). manakete irene is a really fun concept, fred’s and nowi’s supports are really cute tbh and their ending is sweet, i feel like nowi’s light-heartedness and maturity underneath it all are something that would be really good for irene, but... the amount of editing needed to make it work kinda ruins the idea for me.

final rating: ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆ ( 4 dragonstones out of 10 )

tharja.

supports: they’re... hm. they’re... interesting? see tharja’s supports are like how i view cordelia’s: the less mentions of robin ( and chrom in cordelia’s case ), the better. tharja talks about robin a lot in the c-a ones, but thankfully there’s no mention of them in the s. so that’s points in tharja’s favour! they’re not bad, but i do think i like tharja and frederick with other people.

inheritance: tharja passes down dark mage and archer, then knight overlaps with irene’s classes inherited from frederick. magical irene is once again on the table, but given the nature of future!tharja, i feel like irene would be horribly scared of or at least averse to dark magic and against trying it for herself. 

hair colour: dark hair colours always look good on irene... though grabbing it off tharja’s sprite was weird, because the sprite makes it look more brown than black. oh well.

sibling(s): while fred/tharja isn’t terrible, ohhhhh boy the implications it has for irene’s childhood isn’t fun. she and noire sound like good sisters, but... once frederick dies tharja snaps hard, and begins using noire as a guinea pig. given i hc frederick as one of the last to die, either irene is already knighted and in a horrible position to get noire out of that situation until their mother dies too, or frederick dies earlier and she ends up trapped in the abuse too. it’s just... a very sad situation and i can’t... i feel really bad putting irene in either of them. either she chases frederick and knighthood and unintentionally abandons noire, or she has to suffer future!tharja.

overall: despite the iffy future!tharja situation, i do think that the interactions with past!tharja and noire would make for really interesting character development. and you all know i am HERE for character development! frederick’s supports with tharja aren’t bad ones, but they’re not necessarily my favourites either. dunno, just... not huge on this one, but i don’t hate it!

final rating: ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆ ( 5 hexes out of 10 )

olivia.

supports: this one was........... weird. like, it shows fred’s overbearingness extends to everyone when he’s trying to lend a hand and it’s really cute, but... mmmmmmmmmm i really don’t know. i like olivia with other people more and her supports can be kind of hit or miss as it is for me, even when i like the pairing. 

inheritance: olivia doesn’t give dancer, what even is the point-- no, but irene could inherit myrmidon, pegasus knight, and since dancer is exclusive to olivia, mercenary! if you want g a l e f o r c e  f a l c o n  k n i g h t  irene, it’s a good choice! 

hair colour: irene with olivia’s pink is cute, but i like darker tones on her, personally...

sibling(s): irene being inigo’s younger sister could be fun? they’re both shy characters and deal with it in different ways-- irene threw herself into training, inigo followed the ‘talk to girls’ advice. i can see them lowkey clashing over that, but still being close? it sets up for really fun shenanigans in fates too, as irene and corbett go to fateslandia on their own and settle in hoshido, meanwhile inigo’s summoned there by anankos and ends up in nohr... on a less potentially tragic note, irene being soleil’s aunt is cute. 

overall: this is another pairing i like more for the sibling than the parents, but it’s still a solid one! the supports are kind of weird to me, but then again as much as i love olivia her supports are... mmmmm. irene gets great classes out of the deal, as well as the coveted galeforce, and inigo is a fun brother. all in all, it’s one of the better ones! 

final rating: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆   ( 7 dances out of 10 )

cherche.

supports: these are my absolute favourites, with sumia’s supports being just sliiiiightly behind them. i just love how highly frederick and cherche hold each other in high esteem from day one? they learn from each other, they snark about virion in private together, and their ending and their “famously disarming smiles” is so good??? power. couple. 

inheritance: cherche passes down wyvern rider, cleric, and troubadour. healer irene is back in play, which i love!! she wouldn’t get minerva as a wyvern rider because gerome already has her, but it’s Fine.

hair colour: mmm, it looks so cute on her! i love cherche’s pink...

sibling(s): the contrast between brooding, distant gerome and gentle, shy irene is really fun to me! i feel like they’d be super close as kids but get along less as they grew older, but that also opens the doors for that sweet, sweet character development and reconciliation. and if you know anything about me, i live for character development.

overall: cherche is irene’s default mom for a reason. frederick’s and cherche’s supports are my favouites for them both, she lends really well to the idea of irene being less talented with offensive magic but having a hidden talent for healing, and her hair colour is pink-- but still that nice darker tone that i like on her. gerome is... a bit of a piece of work, but they contrast in an interesting way and the development that comes with reconciliation is appealing! so yeah! i love!!! cherche!irene! 

final rating: ★★★★★★★★★★ ( 10 snacks for minerva out of 10 )

emmeryn.

supports: they, uh... don’t have any. the draw for fredemm in general is that he’s a knight and she’s the exalt, and i mean... it’s really a sweet concept! i do prefer emm/phila and frederick with other people, but it is an emmeryn ship i still really like! it does require some shifting things around on irene’s part as she’d now have to be older than all of the children to even exist in the bad timeline, but... eh. details.

inheritance: emm’s classes are the same ones as lissa’s, so see her section! as always with princess irene, the brand is on the back of her neck.

hair colour: it looks really close to lissa’s, but it’s just a little more saturated...

sibling(s): not counting emmeryn fankids, irene would be an only child. i guess that means she would treat lucina, her sibling, and owain like siblings of her own! that said, she would still undergo the lucina problem-- being related to falchion’s bearer and unable to wield it herself  despite being a member of the exalted bloodline does a number on irene’s confidence and self image as a princess. now that i’m thinking about it, what if princess irene got geirskogul...

overall: if i’m doing princess irene, emmeryn is my favourite of the ylissean royal sibs to be her other parent. everything is a little more hc based and shifts around a bit based off portrayals and whatnot, but i really like exalted irene so it’s worth it!!  

final rating: ★★★★★★★★☆☆ ( 8 miracles out of 10 )

just for fun...

anna.

aversa.

flavia.

say’ri.

     Isaac gazed in awe across the swath of water, at the dark, towering outline of Cainhurst Castle. Its crumbling, snow-capped roofs were a stain against the late afternoon sky, which held a thick foam of clouds, dyed pink and purple by the dying sunlight. It only seemed to accentuate the fortress’ impressive size and architecture.

     “Wow.” The word escaped him in a stunned breath. “Ansel, it’s amazin’. I’m kinda offended ya haven’t offered to show me ‘round the place yet, y’know. I mean... I lived in a cardboard box, once. And ya get a bloody castle to yourself. Unbelievable.”

     His friend chuckled under his breath. “I share it with someone,” he protested.

     Isaac snorted. “Right. Bet the queen’s hoggin’ the place. Too small for the both a’ ya, innit?”

     Ansel laughed, prompting the corner of Isaac’s mouth to pull into a crooked grin. There it is. What a wonderful sound, he thought, and one so rarely heard. He was rather pleased with himself for his ability to lighten the redhead’s spirits. He was always so sullen. Almost... hollow, as if he were an hourglass missing most of its sand. And he knew why.

     Slowly, Ansel’s expression sobered, and his shoulders drooped as a quiet sigh left him. Neither of them spoke for several moments. The gnashing tides filled the silence, soothing in their own ironic sort of way.

     “I miss it,” Ansel managed. “What it used to be.”

     His eerie reddish eyes were locked on the castle, but his stare seemed distant, as if he didn’t truly see what lay before him.

     “I’ll bet. ‘M sure it was somethin’ else, before...” Isaac trailed off, unwilling to continue.

     “It was.” Ansel threaded his fingers together in his lap, but he kept his eyes on his home. “I remember... getting lost in the halls, and in the library, even after growing up. But it was so exuberant that I never minded it.” He smiled again, briefly. “Yulia thought me daft, getting lost in my own home.”

     Yulia. The hunter’s lips parted in surprise at the sound of his sister’s name. Ansel had always been so unwilling to speak of her. He was well aware of the guilt he carried regarding her death, despite never outwardly admitting it. Anyone could look into his eyes and see the boundless pain within them. Even then, Isaac caught a glimpse of it, even when Ansel wouldn’t meet his stare. A mere mention of Yulia was too much.

     Dammit.

     Why him? What had he done to deserve to suffer in such a way? It was unfair. Cruel. Even by Yharnam’s standards.

     With a soft huff, Isaac put his arm around Ansel’s shoulders and pulled him close, ignoring the way he tensed. He waited for him to relax. After a few moments, he did.

     “You’ll be all right, m’ friend,” Isaac murmured. “I’ve got ya.”

     Ansel went rigid again, as though he had suddenly forgotten how to breathe, and turned his head to the side, obscuring his face in thick red curls. No further words needed to be spoken. Isaac kept his arm around the Vileblood as he watched the sunlight fade, dimming the vibrant hues of the clouds to a muted indigo.

     He released Ansel as he sat upright, and nearly missed the hasty palm that rubbed at one of his eyes. Finally, Ansel met his gaze, pursing his lips into a tight smile as he gave the dark-haired hunter’s arm a squeeze.

     “Forgive me,” he managed, voice somewhat hoarse. “I am uncertain what came over me.”

     “Nothin’ to apologize for, Ansel.”

     “And thank you. It occurred to me that I... I don’t believe I’ve ever properly expressed my gratitude towards...” He hesitated before looking away once more, to his hands as he idly toyed with his scarred fingers. “Towards you. For everything you’ve done.” He paused. “And Cilla, and Ajax, as well. Truly, the three of you are like my... My family.”

     A slow grin brightened Isaac’s features. He took Ansel’s hands in his and pulled him to his feet. “Gods, Ansel. You gotta tell ‘em. Right now.”

     Ansel’s eyes grew round. “Um, I don’t think I—”

     “Right now,” Isaac prompted, gently pushing him down the dust-caked path. “Else I’ll tell Mum I’ve got a sibling, without ever elaboratin’!”

     He uttered a nervous laugh. “Oh, my. Please don’t. Such things require tact, yes?”

     “You’re speakin’ nonsense now. Keep movin’, brother.”

The Vileblood had long since developed a hatred of nighttime walks through the city, whether or not they took place within the relative safety of secluded back streets, far from the crowded central squares. His recent timidity was little more than an embarrassment, as he now found himself fleeing at the slightest hint of danger. It seemed he was best suited to wander the empty halls of Cainhurst.

     At least now he had pleasant company. It was quite amusing to think about, really. Here he was, a former knight of Queen Annalise, walking side by side with a workshop hunter—a carrier of a potential heir for his dwindling race. The honey-sweet dregs inhabiting hunters’ blood had sent him on countless escapades to his queen’s chambers. Yet he would return to her side no longer, and he was rather pleased to find that he felt no remorse towards this “betrayal.”

     He sent a glance towards his unlikely friend, who walked just two yards ahead, clutching the worn handle of his cleaver as if anticipating an attack. Ansel’s own observation skills had grown muddled as of late, so he was grateful for the hunter’s constant vigilance while out on the streets.

     “’S quiet,” Isaac remarked after a while. “Dunno if I like that.”

     Ansel’s fingers curled more tightly around the grip of his Evelyn, and his free hand strayed towards his rapier. “Surely we aren’t that far from Cilla’s house?”

     “Nah. Still a few blocks off, though.”

     Tension crept into his shoulders. It was remarkable how Cilla had seemed to condition beasts against straying too close to her home, considering how often the scourge twisted new victims into horrid, violent creatures. He wouldn’t be surprised if her block could be considered the safest in all of Yharnam; if she felt bold enough, she could sleep on her doorstep without being disturbed. At least, that was what she had claimed.

     A familiar rancid stench hit his sensitive nostrils. He physically recoiled as he returned to his senses, and a cold jolt of fear drove itself into his chest. He looked to Isaac, who raised a hand, gesturing for him to stop moving.

     “Beast,” the hunter whispered. He tilted his head to better hear the scraping of claws against grimy stone. “Big one.”

     Ansel bit his lower lip. “Lycanthrope?”

     Isaac merely shrugged, but the look in his dark eyes said most likely. “Don’t really want to let it run loose,” he mumbled. “’S gettin’ close to Cilla’s block, and big beasts ain’t scared off as easily. How ‘bout we take ‘im on?”

     Ansel caught himself before he could gape at his friend, and straightened, feigning eagerness. “That may be wise.”

     Isaac’s eyes brightened. Ansel felt a pang of regret.

     “I’ll run down this ‘ere street,” Isaac said, gesturing down the long alleyway. “Beast’s comin’ down the second path on our right, methinks. I’ll get ‘im to chase me, and you attack ‘im from behind.”

     Ansel stared at him. “How?”

     “Shoot ‘im in the spine or somethin’. Your shootin’ skills are proper fantastic, yeah?” Isaac tapped the barrel of Ansel’s Evelyn, grinning.

     How on earth is he this enthusiastic?

     With a hard swallow, Ansel nodded. Isaac gave him a quick salute before spinning on his heel and running down the alley at full speed, tattered cape billowing in his wake.

     Adrenaline filled his veins when the lycanthrope rounded the corner, chilling him to the bone. The sight of it caused his breath to catch in his throat. It was a massive, hulking thing, with coarse, matted fur and claws caked with dried blood. Thick saliva dripped from its maw as it paused in its pursuit of the hunter, and its heavy breaths formed clouds of steam in front of its face.

     Ansel’s heart hammered against his ribs as it turned a single red eye on him. The claws of another beast had recently scratched the other eye from its socket, leaving a bloodied hole. He raised his firearm with an unsteady hand. The moment his eyes moved to Isaac, who had charged back in his direction, the beast lunged.

     His Evelyn went off with a bang. The lycanthrope collided with him, sending them both to the street and knocking the wind from Ansel’s lungs.

     The crunch of a serrated blade tearing through flesh pulled him from his momentary daze. The beast snarled as it spun around, and Ansel grimaced when hot, rotten-smelling blood spattered across his coat.

     Isaac swung at the creature again, and it retaliated by raking its claws across the hunter’s chest.

     “Isaac!” Ansel almost choked on the word as he rolled onto his side, struggling to rise to his feet. He clamped his mouth shut when a wave of nausea overcame him. Dragging himself to his knees, he reached for his fallen blade, only to freeze when a tantalizing scent overcame the reek of beast blood.

     Isaac swung his cleaver at the beast’s neck with a grunt, freeing a deluge of crimson as he struck an artery. His opponent collapsed into a heap, twitching as the life leaked from its body. He fell beside it, first to his knees, then to his hands when his face contorted in pain.

     “Ah, shit,” he muttered, searching his pockets for a blood vial. He coughed and spat out a wad of blood. “Wasn’t expectin’ that. Ansel, are—are are y’ alright?”

     A shrill ring drowned out his words. Ansel’s hands came to his head, and he hunched forward as if to avoid getting sick. Newfound terror struck him like a hammer when an agonizing thirst scorched his windpipe.

     “No,” he gasped, only half in response to Isaac’s question. His fingers blindly roamed the nearby wall, grazing its filthy brick surface without feeling a thing.

     No. Not him. Please. I can’t. I can’t –

     “Ansel?”

     He flinched when Isaac approached, wounds miraculously mended. But the blood. The blood remained, soaking every inch of his torso and trailing down his arms in enticing trails.

     The Vileblood heaved himself backwards, gritting his teeth as his vision blurred. His decaying memory went to his childhood friend, and the terror on her face when she saw what he’d become firsthand, before almost falling victim to his ravenous mania herself.

     I’m a blighted fool.

     His mouth opened in preparation to yell at him to stay away, to run; but as he did, the aroma of the hunter’s moonlit blood found its way to his tongue, promising sweet relief. His hand brushed against the hilt of his rapier.

     Isaac knelt before him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Oi, Ansel. Can y’ hear me? Ugly bloke didn’t do a number on ya, did he?”

     Ansel’s fear dissipated with the click of his weapon as its blade retracted, throwing sparks into the air. He raised his eyes to Isaac’s. He held his gaze for a moment, his frantic expression fading to a blank slate, and he promptly thrust his rapier into the hunter’s heart.

     Isaac’s breath left him as if Ansel had punched him square in the chest. He stared down at the blade, visibly shocked, before dragging his attention back to his friend.

     “Why—”

     Ansel wrenched his blade free, throwing an arc of crimson into the air. The hunter fell. He faded into a mass of pale light, leaving nothing behind but a warm, writhing dreg.

     Isaac’s legs crumpled beneath him when he appeared beside the glimmering lantern, and he did not immediately move to pick himself up.

     He didn’t feel rejuvenated in the slightest. His stomach churned in response to the lingering ache above his heart, where Ansel’s blade had run him through. One of his gloved hands placed itself atop the shredded fabric of his coat.

     It’d happened so fast. For a moment, he wondered if he had simply been mistaken, and that the one who ended his life had been anyone other than his friend. His brother.

     The venomous look in the other young man’s gaze had certainly been uncharacteristic. For a moment, his eyes were not a man’s, but a starved beast’s. He’d seen it before – many times, in fact, during his nightly hunts.

     He’s blood-drunk.

     Isaac ran his fingers through his hair as he surveyed his surroundings, only half mindful of his plan to return home without incident.

     Why didn’t he tell me?

     To think he could do anything about Ansel’s current state would be foolish, but he could try. Surely there were ways to cope with the addiction of blood, and to make it less severe. He just had to find him.

     He froze and looked to the horizon, where the brownish disk of the moon peeked between dark spires. How much time had passed before he awakened? What if Ansel was on a blind rampage near Cilla’s house?

     What if Cilla found him first?

     He barely heard his feet as they pounded against the road, and an icy wind gnawed at his cheeks as he ran. He passed through winding alleys and the occasional group of half-turned men, who were too slow to grasp him as he sprinted by.

     He made it to the southwest part of the city in record time. His legs shook as he leaned against a burned out lamppost for support, breaths coming in heaves that seemed to tear holes into his windpipe.

     He was given little chance to recover. A bang sounded in the distance – one too large to have come from a gun – and urged his aching legs onward. The exertion twisted a knot of pain into his side. He ignored it and continued, trying in vain to set aside the dread intensifying with every labored step.

     Isaac rounded the corner in time to see Ansel barely dodge the swing of Cilla’s flaming Boom Hammer. The Vileblood tripped over his own feet and fell backwards, mere feet from an explosion that bit a sizeable chunk from the cobblestones. The moment the fire faded, Ajax strode forward, Stake Driver in hand.

     “Stop!”

     Isaac’s shout was swallowed by the clang of Ajax’s weapon as he reeled his arm backwards, ready to end Ansel in a single, brutal hit. Gritting his teeth, the hunter gathered his remaining energy and threw himself in front of his friend.

     Ajax paused, momentary surprise mingling with the rage on his face. Isaac held his gaze even when the older man’s eyes narrowed threateningly.

     “Move, Isaac.”

     His tone brokered no argument, but Isaac held his ground even when Ajax raised his voice.

     “Move!”

     “No!” Isaac shouted back.

     He scrambled to his feet when Cilla approached, priming her hammer for another molten strike that surely wouldn’t miss. He grabbed his cleaver and threw it outwards, extending the serrated blade.

     “I won’t say it again,” he growled. “Stop.”

     The pair faltered. Ajax looked as if he would tear Isaac to pieces in order to reach his target, and Cilla’s caramel eyes ignited with a blazing anger he had never seen before.

     “Listen t’ Ajax. Let us deal with this—this—” Cilla’s grip tightened on her weapon. “Beast.”

     Isaac sent a glance over his shoulder in time to catch the anguish that flickered in his friend’s eyes. Ansel’s cheeks were smeared with blood, and his arms and torso were all but drenched in the liquid. The terror on his face did not suit the rest of him.

     Slowly, he faced his mother again, with fury of his own brewing within him. “Are y’ bloody serious? Mum, y’know how many of us here have a clean track record? None.”

     “He killed you, Isaac, and I’m not about t’ let that go,” Cilla muttered.

     Isaac opened his mouth to speak, but shut it when Ajax made another move towards Ansel. Gritting his teeth, he threw himself on top of the Vileblood.

     “You want ‘im so bad? Kill me,” Isaac hissed.

     The ire on the man’s face grew to a point where it frightened him. He almost expected his challenge to be taken to heart, and awaited the stake that would pin him and his friend together, but it never came. Ajax whirled on his heel and strode away, vanishing behind a row of dilapidated houses.

     “Ajax...” Cilla shook her head, and the bewilderment in her stare drowned in newfound frustration.

     Isaac’s grip tightened on his cleaver, then loosened. What if she came at him? What would he do, harm his own mother in defense of someone who had deceived him and killed him for his blood?

     No. He couldn’t.

     “Let me do this for you.” Her voice was strained, and heavy with what almost sounded like desperation, as if putting Ansel down would solve all the problems in Yharnam.

     A pit formed in Isaac’s chest. He got to his feet, returning to his protective stance in front of Ansel. “Y’know, it’s funny,” he murmured. “Ya dump me into the slums, and th’ first honorable thing you wanna do for me, twenty-four whole years later, is kill my best friend. Sorry, Ma. Not addin’ up.”

     Cilla gaped at him. “That’s not—”

     “’Cause he killed me, yeah? Yeah, well, guess what? I can’t die! I couldn’t die even if I wanted to.” A humorless smirk tugged at his lips, and hot tears blurred the edges of his vision. “So, Ansel – leave ‘im outta this. He hasn’t done a thing.”

     Cilla took a step forward when Ansel stood, but froze when Isaac tilted his weapon in her direction.

     “I will go.” The Vileblood’s hollow voice was barely audible.

     Isaac’s cleaver lowered a fraction of an inch, and he looked over his shoulder. The torment on his face had dulled to a look of resignation. His reddish eyes, fixed on the ground, gazed at something that wasn’t there.

     “If I am to be kept alive,” Ansel murmured, “I cannot stay. I have betrayed your trust in the worst possible way.”

     “Ah... Ansel,” Isaac stuttered. He put his free hand on Ansel’s arm, managing a smile. “Hey, everything’s fine now. I’m in one piece, see? No harm done. Let’s—let’s go home. We can talk about it. We can...”

     He trailed off. Ansel wouldn’t look at him.

     “If he wants to go,” Cilla muttered, “You ought to let ‘im take this chance. It’s the only one he’s gonna get from me.”

     “Mum...” Isaac began.

     “Isaac,” Ansel whispered.

     A knot of dread twisted in the hunter’s stomach.

     “I must. I—”

     “No.” Isaac’s cleaver fell to the ground with a clang, and he took hold of Ansel’s shoulders. “Ansel, no. I—I ain’t mad at ya! Look, I’m fine. You don’t have to—”

     “I must,” Ansel repeated, with such conviction that it stunned Isaac into silence. He looked back at Cilla. He fell silent for a moment, then bowed his head and said, “I thank you again for your mercy. I’ll see to it that it isn’t misplaced this time.”

     The woman nodded once, slowly.

     Finally, he met Isaac’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, and a multitude of emotions flickered across his face. He turned, quickly, and left with a whisper of a broken apology on his lips.

Sunlight drilled into the Vileblood’s half-closed eyes. A sharp breeze disrupted crimson and gold curtains, tossing dust amid the flurry of snow that drifted through his window and onto the worn stone floor. He rolled over and drew his silk bed sheets more tightly over his head.

     Consciousness carried a reminder to hunt. Hunt, or you will suffer, pleaded his burning throat and stomach, as if he had deprived them of blood for years. He was uncertain how much time had passed since he sealed himself away in his room. He did not particularly care.

     Ansel dragged himself out of bed and prepared to delve into Yharnam’s accursed streets. Out of habit, his hand brushed against the soft brown fabric of his scarf, and he recoiled as if he’d been stung. Cilla’s face flashed in his vision. He remained still for several minutes, gazing at the soft strip of fabric, then turned and strode into the hall without it.

     The weeping of ghosts greeted him as he entered the main foyer. The bound spirits paid him no mind as he swept past, gaze locked to the ornate carpet beneath his feet; some ceased their cries to look in his direction, heads tilted in curiosity as if they could see through the fabric obscuring their vision.

     A fleeting memory passed him by, of simpler times within thriving walls. His aunt, of all people, hissed in his ear; or perhaps it was her ghost, eager to criticize his actions even in death.

     “Foolish boy. You break everything you touch.”

     Chest aching, Ansel hurried through the massive doors and towards the castle gates, disdain growing with every step. He refused to look at the statues littering the rocky courtyard, or even the ice-encrusted fountain he viewed so fondly as a child. It was bone-dry, now, with the body of a lone saint still frozen in prayer beside it.

     I cannot stay here any longer.

     He focused on the pain gnawing at his insides. Only one wish could be fulfilled at a time, he supposed.

     The overgrown roads of Hemwick greeted him with a gust of crisp air, flinging fallen leaves past his feet, over rocky cliffs, and into the crashing waves at his back. He made little progress before the glint of a serrated weapon caught his eye. Tensing, he looked to the hunter seated above him, atop the roof of a crumbling house.

     Ansel froze. “Isaac?”

     Isaac didn’t answer, but dropped to the weed-ridden ground with a thud. He approached slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

     Ansel prepared to question him, but paused. He knew very well what his friend spoke of. Averting his eyes, he said, “I... couldn’t.”

     “What do you mean?” Isaac’s brow furrowed. “Ansel, I could’ve helped you.”

     The statement was untrue, but filled him with regret regardless. “No. You couldn’t have.”

     “How do you know? Have ya even told anyone else ‘bout this?”

     “I can’t—”

     “Don’t say ‘can’t,’” Isaac interjected. “There’s gotta be some way—”

     “Isaac.” Defeat crept into his voice. “No one can help me.”

     “Why do you keep sayin’ that?”

     “Because I can’t even help myself!” Ansel caught an unexpected sob as it climbed his throat, and bit the inside of his cheek so it wouldn’t escape.

     Isaac fell silent. The pair walked to the bridge and sat on the edge, where they watched the sun dance across the lake’s surface.

     “How long have ya been dealin’ with this?” Isaac murmured.

   “Four... Five years.” Ansel replied. “I’ve lost count.”

     The hunter released a slow, deep sigh. “Dammit, Ansel. That’s not fair. It’s—it’s not fair.”

     Ansel glanced at him. “What?”

     “Do ya know how many despicable pieces of shit I’ve seen in Yharnam?” he asked heatedly. “Any of ‘em deserve this heaps more than you.”

     Ansel suppressed a humorless smile. “I’ve more than earned my place among them.”

     Isaac frowned. “And why do ya always talk yourself down? ‘S real bad.”

     Ansel looked into his scarred, freckled face, and into the shred of innocence buried in the depths of his dark eyes. How Isaac maintained even a sliver of hopefulness, despite his terrible upbringing, was something Ansel had never understood.

     “You have no idea what I’ve done.”

     Isaac’s silence was the only reply he needed. Perhaps he had begun to see him for what he truly was. His stomach twisted. He knew it was for the best, but it hurt. Gods, it hurt.

     “I haven’t apologized yet,” Ansel said.

     “Don’t.”

     “But I killed—”

     “I don’t care,” Isaac said. “’Kay? I don’t. I’m here now. I’m fine.”

     Ansel pursed his lips. “What about Cilla? And Ajax?”

     Isaac’s expression sobered. “I said some real nasty stuff to Mum before I left.”

     “Left?”

     “I, um, ran away.” He toyed with a loose stone. “Stupid. ‘S like I’m ten years old again.”

     Isaac took the stone in his palm and tossed it. Ansel watched as it plummeted through the air and vanished beneath the churning waves.

     “I want you to come back,” Isaac told him.

     “You know I can’t,” Ansel said quietly.

     “Do I?”

     “What happened to you could’ve happened to any of the others,” Ansel said. “And they...”

     “Die for real,” Isaac finished.

     Ansel nodded once.

     “You’re right. But I... I could still come see you.”

     “Isaac...”

     Isaac turned to face him, placing a gloved hand on Ansel’s shoulder as he did. “Listen. I don’t care what else ya did. I don’t even care if you kill me again. All right? ‘Cause you’re sufferin’, and if you think I’m just gonna sit back and let ya deal with it alone, you don’t know me very well.”

     The Vileblood swallowed the lump in his throat. Yes, he wanted to beg. Stay with me. Please. His lips parted, prepared to voice the selfishness that’d bring him the combined wrath of Cilla and Ajax—which would likely tarnish Isaac’s standing with them, as well.

     He couldn’t. Not after watching his own family get torn apart before his very eyes.

     “I...” Ansel’s fingers curled into fists. Tears sprang to his eyes, but he would not let them fall. “No. I cannot let you do that.”

     Isaac pulled back like he’d slapped him. Anger crossed his face. “Why not?” He demanded. “Why can’t you let me do this?”

     Isaac didn’t understand how it had felt. Ansel had come to his senses far too late and witnessed the mess he had made of his dearest friend, with his mouth still brimming with moonlit blood. He had spit it out. He had collapsed, and gasped for breath as his horror towards his actions struck him like the shot of a cannon, rendering him petrified until Cilla and Ajax appeared and saw what he had done.

     “I—I can’t.” His voice broke, becoming shrill and foreign to his own ears. “I will not live as constant danger to you and your family knowing I may slaughter them—all of them—at any moment! You are too precious to me. I can’t. I can’t!”

     Ansel buried his face in his hands, and through clenched teeth, released a cry of anguish.

     How cruel it was, that his own foolishness would curse him with isolation even after one family had already been stripped from him, leaving him with a shell of a life once brimming with extravagance and love; but he had brought it upon himself. The lives he had taken, the rifts he had driven into families much like his own, could never be redeemed. His hands were stained with blood that rang temptingly in his ears even as he sat beside Isaac, chest heaving with sobs. Even then, his body urged him to draw his weapon and sate his repulsive hunger.

     Mother. Father. Yulia... I’m sorry. I am no different than the Executioners.

     Strong arms enveloped him, pulling him into Isaac’s chest. Tears stained his friend’s face.

     “Don’t you do this to me, Ansel,” he choked out. “We’re family. We—we’re brothers. Right? We’re brothers. I can help you. I swear it. I...”

     Ansel knew he believed him. His tears and desperate ramblings were proof enough, but he doubted words would be enough to pry the hunter from his side for good.

     Shaking fingers reached for his rapier, and he struggled to breathe through his tears as he grasped the hilt. Isaac’s eyes grew round when he noticed the action.

     “Ansel, wh—what are you doing?” Understanding flooded his expression, and he grasped Ansel’s arms, face contorted in desperation and agony. “No. Don’t. Ansel, don’t. Please. No!”

     Before the hunter could withdraw, Ansel plunged the blade into his heart for a second time. Isaac gaped at him, desperate pleas tangled in his throat.

     “My brother,” Ansel whispered. “Forgive me. Goodbye.”

     Isaac collapsed into his arms and dissolved into moonlight. Ansel grasped the dreg that was left behind. With a shout of torment and rage, he tossed it into the lake, fell to his knees, and counted his remaining seconds of sanity before bloodlust would possess him once more.

Cilla sat at the bar with her head in one hand, and an empty bottle of whiskey in the other. She wished for more, but could not find the motivation to stand. Her limbs felt heavy, her chest hollow, as though it’d cave in beneath the slightest movement.

     Days had passed since Isaac stormed off. She had searched high and low to find him, going as far as Cathedral Ward and the outskirts of Hemwick, but he evaded her without leaving a trace. Her concern for his safety gnawed at her relentlessly. Eventually, she decided it best to give him space. She owed him far more than that, but she no longer knew how to give it to him.

     How do you replace 21 missing years? She ran a hand through her thick dark hair. How do you replace a best friend?

     Ajax surfaced in her mind. She hadn’t been able to find him, either. It did not surprise her, and he was certainly capable of triumphing over whatever nonsense Yharnam threw at him; but she worried anyway. Unlike Isaac, he would not receive a second chance at life if something were to go horribly wrong.

     I’ll give them both an earful when I see them, she decided.

     To her irritation, she felt a twinge of concern for Ansel, but was quick to shove it away. Long ago, she had warned the Vileblood what would happen if he ever harmed her son. “I’ll turn you into a smudge on the pavement,” she had said, and meant it. In the moment, she would have done it—unless Ajax had gotten to him first.

     It bothered her that she worried for him, even as he teetered on the brink of madness. He killed her son.

     “What does this all say about me?” she mumbled, and removed her glasses to rub her eyes. “A bloody mouthful.”

     Could she even fully reconcile with Isaac after doing such a thing? What if he never returned to her doorstep? Her heart ached. Before she could dwell on it any longer, however, three weak knocks sounded on her door. She forced herself to answer it.

     Her mouth dropped. Isaac and Ajax stood before her. Isaac’s shoulders quivered with weak sobs, and rivers of tears flowed down his cheeks. Ajax’s good eye was red, his mouth a tight line.

     No one spoke. Cilla shook her head and pulled the two men into her arms, and tears of her own blurred her vision. She clung to them and released a shaky breath of relief.