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Hubert von Vestra was dead.
That was what he had been told years ago. Ferdinand had accepted it as fact when the visits to the Vestra estate stopped. A betrothal contract stating the firstborn of their respective families would be wed was tossed into a fire, only drafted because of a simple mistake determining the gender of the Vestra heir before his birth and only kept because the wording allowed it to still be valid. Ferdinand knew Hubert as far back as he could remember. They did not get along initially, their interests and temperaments exact opposites to one another, but they both agreed their parents were idiots for thinking they'd ever want to marry each other. From that one agreement, a fountain of conversations sprung forth. From talks of horses to playing tactical board games to discussing the best way fish could be cooked, they bonded. And for a traitorous moment, Ferdinand thought that—just maybe—when they were older, marrying Hubert wouldn't be so bad.
But Hubert had died before Ferdinand could find out if what they had could become something more. Ferdinand had wept for weeks when he heard the awful news. No one would tell him how it happened, so it was left to his imagination what horrid fate befell his betrothed.
He remembered asking Edelgard about it after she returned to the Empire—and only her, for her siblings had all mysteriously taken ill or perished from some unexplained plague. She alone escaped the ailment with her mind and body intact, but her hair and her memories had been affected as a result. She could barely recall the boy who was once her vassal, not even recognizing Hubert's name initially. Not long after that, she pushed Hubert out of her mind completely—for what use was there in mourning over someone whose fate could not be changed? Ferdinand had disagreed with her thought process. Hubert was a person. Even if Hubert hadn't lived a long life, he deserved to be remembered.
So Ferdinand cherished the memories of a shy, awkward, blunt boy with midnight hair and eyes colored both yellow and light green depending on how the light hit them. A boy who liked to poke fun at Ferdinand because he liked to challenge his "noble" mindset, as if to test if Ferdinand could truly become the most "noble of all nobles". A boy who Ferdinand would join to raid the kitchens, steal leftover pheasant and eggs, and share their spoils under an oak tree.
Ferdinand would remember if no one else would.
When he enrolled at the Officers Academy, Ferdinand met many familiar faces. Some, not so much. He did not know when Edelgard employed a man of Duscur to be her vassal, but Dedue seemed to fit the perfect description of being a "sword and shield" for Her Highness. Duscurians were largely considered untrustworthy, considering their kind had supposedly assassinated the King of Faerghus and many of the king's personal guards. On first impression, Dedue did not seem the dastardly sort. When Dedue was not being a quiet, stalwart, perfect example of a vassal, he was rather kind and considerate towards the rest of the Black Eagles. Ferdinand felt no animosity towards Dedue as a person—but deep down, he couldn't suppress the thought that it should have been Hubert standing by Edelgard's side; a right that had been stripped from him by the unforgiving hands of death.
It was ridiculous, getting angry over something so trivial. All of it stemmed from a life cut short. Who could say where that life would have gone? Perhaps Dedue would still stand there and Hubert would merely be standing beside him, both sworn to aid and protect Her Highness with their dying breaths? He supposed no one but the Goddess would know now.
"LOOK OUT!"
Ferdinand didn't register that the words were directed at him in time. In a matter of seconds, he was bowled over by a black and orange blur. He landed roughly on his back, head smacking hard against the floor. Stars exploded behind his eyelids and a pained groan escaped his throat.
"OOOUCH!" A feminine voice whined from somewhere to his right. A gasp followed soon after. "Ohmygosh, I am so sorry! Are you okay!?"
Through his swimming vision, he made out a head of orange and a female Academy uniform. Hands were places against his head and a gentle light glowed from then, chasing away the pounding that drummed behind his temples. With his vision no longer shaky, he could make out the woman's features more clearly.
"You…You are Annette Fantine Dominic, right?" He was proud he was able to recall her full name even while recovering from a head injury! His memory was flawless, unlike Edelgard's!
"Yeah. That's me." She twiddled her thumbs. "I am so sorry! I was in such a rush I wasn't looking where I was going. I didn't mean to hurt you!"
"Do not fret, my lady. I am not angry," Ferdinand replied. "Accidents happen."
"I know, but…I always seem to be the cause of them," Annetter mumbled.
"You wouldn't be if you would simply slow down for once in your life."
Ferdinand directed his gaze towards the new voice and froze.
A ghost. That had to be it. That was why the face was so familiar. It was older, sharper, and colder than how Ferdinand remembered it. But the eyes…he would never forget those uniquely-colored eyes.
Annette pouted at the tall, black-haired man with Hubert's eyes. "You shut up! Mistakes make for great learning experiences, don't they?"
The man sighed, shaking his head. "That only applies if you actually take what you learn from those mistakes to heart—something which you continuously fail to do in a spectacularly destructive manner."
"Ugh, why do you always have to be such a villain!?"
Laughter, so familiar yet so different than the last time Ferdinand heard it. "Because I'm evil, as you've told me many times before."
"You're darn right about that. You're the evilest of all evil villains! You make Felix look like a knight in shining armor!"
"Then I know I'm fulfilling the role I've been given." He turned towards Ferdinand. There was no glint of recognition. No snarky greeting. The Academy student who looked like an older Hubert gave him a traditional Faerghus bow. "I don't recall having met you yet. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Hedeon Alexei Dominic. While I share no blood ties with the Dominic family, they were kind enough to take me in as one of their own. If you ever see my sister becoming too 'enthusiastic', do set her straight for me."
"You make it sound like that's a problem! Hedeon, relax. I can take care of myself!" Annette stormed off to prove just that, only to trip over a box someone had left out. "Who left this dumb wooden box here!?"
"As you can see, she gravitates toward trouble." Hubert—Hedeon?—frowned, clearly used to such antics. He turned back to Ferdinand and immediately his demeanor shifted. Ferdinand stepped back as Hubert—Hedeon?—loomed over him. "While Prince Dimitri has made it clear we are not to antagonize the students from other houses, I'm not exactly keen on such an idea after what he's been through. So I shall warn you now: if you wish to avoid a terrible fate, then do not give me a reason to suspect you mean my sister or His Highness harm."
With that said, he paid no more mind to Ferdinand and went off in the direction Annette was last seen. Ferdinand stood there, watching his retreating back. So many words were stuck in his throat, so many feelings were assaulting his poor heart, and many, many questions were forming in his mind.
Was that truly Hubert? Had he cheated death? If so, why was Hubert refusing to acknowledge him? Or was it some sort of cursed doppelganger, sent by the Goddess to haunt Ferdinand for his inability to protect Hubert from his fate?
Whatever the case was, Ferdinand von Aegir was going to get to the bottom of it—one way or another.