I never got the whole thing about 'the importance of social status' in FE:Echoes. At first it makes sense, but as soon as it's revealed that Alm is royalty it makes little sense. Because Berkut and Fernand are kinda right, since you couldn't have done many things without the royal blood in Alms veins. (the Royal sword, the treasure vault, Zeke)... things like that. But still, we are all for equality, are we not?

So this is my attempt to save the equality theme of FE : Echoes...

"It's not possible…" Berkut can hardly believe it, "Alm is the emperor's true son? Which makes him the rightful successor to the imperial throne. All this time… All the effort! What has it all been for?! …But, there is no denying fact. All my dreams and aspirations have been built on nothing but lies… Lies, lies, lies, lies, LIES!"

He finds himself beneath the duma tower in front of an altar made of flames.

"Is that…an altar? How did I get here? What's happening?"

"Heed me…" he hears a voice.

Confusion takes hold of him, "Who are y—" he tries to ask.

"Heed me," repeats the voice, "You who thirst for power… Call to me. Accept me unto your soul.

"That voice…" Berkut is genuinely puzzled, "Duma? Is it really you?"

Before the voice can speak further he hears a familiar voice, "Lord Berkut!"

"Rinea…"

Rinea approaches him, "I've been looking all over for you. This is the last place I would have expected to find you. You always hated the Faithful, after all."

"This is true…" he admits; but then he remembers the reason for all of this, "But then I had the throne snatched from under me by some magical heir. Plying the gods' mercies is what men do in hopeless situations, is it not?"

"I didn't mean…" stutters Rinea, "Forgive me. I shouldn't have said anything."

Berkut remains silent.

"Please don't despair so. Alm seems a kind and generous man. I'm certain he'll treat you fair."

"And I'm to be content with that?!" he snaps.

Rinea takes a step away from him, shocked to see him this aggressive, "Ah!"

"I wanted to BEAT him, Rinea!" Berkut rages, "To dispatch him and claim the throne! I wanted to make you my empress and hold all Valentia in our palms together! But what of those dreams now…? So I'm to live in this Alm's shadow? Throw myself upon his mercy? I would sooner an honorable death at the executioner's blade!"

"Berkut! You mustn't say such things," she chides. "It is not too late for our dreams to come true! You were born to lead! Have you forgotten that?! Even without crown or throne or castle… You are an emperor. I've fallen in love with a just, right, and noble man… not a boy who drowns himself in self pity and forgets his own strength and ideals!"

Berkut is stunned at first, but quickly regains his composure, "Rinea! Such words… what a wake-up call... Indeed, I have no need for divine favour. Forgive me, Rinea… You're right… You were always right."

That's when they hear frantic steps on the stone floor and Fernand approaches, out of breath.

"Lord Berkut!" he calls out, "Lord Berkut? There you are! Alm is on his way here! What are we to do?"

"What are we to do?!" he asks, almost pittying the knight, "Fight him, of course! We will show him our strength and make him see that because he is royalty, he too must show the commoners their place! Rinea, go and hide!"

"No, Berkut!" she objects, "Even so I dislike bloodshed, I will stay by your side this time around. We are in this together."

"Good," exclaims Berkut, "Then I cannot lose. Not with you by my side."

Meanwhile, Alm is making his way through the castle.

General Massena approaches him, "A moment, Prince Albein? I ask that you show Lord Berkut compassion. He weighed heavy on Emperor Rudolf's mind for many years. The emperor knew that keeping the boy in ignorance could only bring him pain. And yet, the prospect of your being discovered was too great a risk. Still, Berkut was his nephew, and the same age as the son he parted with. So I beg leniency of you, if only to respect Emperor Rudolf's wishes."

Alm promises to consider his words and to do what's best for both, Zofia and Rigel.

Without further delay, Alm and his friends enter Dumas tower and make their way through the endless corridors of the place.

Finally, Alm enters the altar room, his friends near by his side, giving him confidence.

The room is vast, and a big pit filled with flames draws the attention of those who enter. It is the altar of Duma.

And there, with his back turned to the flames, on his horse, awaits Berkut.

His black armor is far away and his figure is hazy in the eery light coming from the flames.

But Alm can see him.
He can see his enemy in detail.
That should be the same for Berkut with his hawk-eyes.

Berkut—the knight whose fate to become King Rudolfs successor has been snatched away from him by unforeseeable circumstances. One of the most powerful men, but rendered powerless. A contradictory existence. A man prepared to rule a country, yet unable to attain such thing.

All his efforts have been for naught. All his dreams, destroyed.

And the fact that he believes that one's station in life is dictated by one's birth must make the whole revelation all the more humiliating.

He must feel like he was the only one who did not realize, or refused to realize, Alms true identity.

As Alms group approaches, noble knights on their horses approach from every angle. Those must be Berkuts retainer, friends and even Fernand is among them.

They stay where they are, obviously waiting to receive orders from Berkut.

At last, Berkut speaks, "You kept me waiting, Alm. Or should I say…Your Excellency? Perhaps Emperor Rudolf II of Rigel?"

"Berkut, listen to—", Alm starts.

"—Tell me," Berkut interrupts. "How does it feel to possess both Zofia and Rigel? I imagine it's wonderful, though it's a sensation I'll never know."

Alm is perplexed. "This isn't a conquest for me," he insists, "I have no illusions the people of Rigel will suddenly welcome me as their ruler. But my father placed this land in my care, and I'll do anything for it. Whatever it takes to keep Valentia's people safe."

Berkut listens in silence, his expression is guarded. It is very clear that something lurks beneath the surface.

"The path ahead is a difficult one for us all. So help us, Berkut," Alm continues, "Lend us your strength! Rigel's people trust and love you far more than me. You and I are cousins, after all. Family. I didn't think I had any family in this world, and yet, here you are. I know we can be close friends as well. Let's work together, Berkut. Put all we have toward ensuring all Valentia is—"

"Silence," Berkut bellows with all the authority expected from someone like him.

"Um…what?" Alm can hardly believe his ears.

"There is no need for a speech," Berkut explains smugly, "Of course you need me. You might have royal blood, but you still have the mind of a clodhopper... But worry not. I know it's not your fault. Those closest to you have betrayed and wronged you. Trust? Years of life lived together? All meaningless. I will help you find your true place in this world! I will make you see how wrong those villains were to make you believe that you are a mere peasant and I will show you how stupid and misguided your views on social hierarchy are! You are royalty! An emperor! And I will make you behave like one!"

Berkut charges at Alm, his halberd dangerously lowered. Before Berkuts weapon can impale Alm, he sweeps it aside with one fluid motion.

"Hngh!" Alm cries out, "But if that's your goal, then why, Berkut, why do you still want to kill me…!?"

"Kill you?!" Berkut can't help but laugh. "No! I want to fight you! I want to beat you! I have underestimated you all along the way because I thought you a peasant. How could I ever believe such a thing?! As if a mere peasant would have been able to defeat me! No, of course not!"

Berkut circles Alm on his horse, almost casually, but most certainly threateningly. Alm braces himself for another attack, his sword is readied and he shifts his stance continuously so that his back is never turned to Berkut. He observes Berkuts every move, but Berkut rambles on manically,

"You have never been a sheep, Alm. You've been a wolf all along! Beware... I've trained since our last meeting tirelessly and now that I know you are of royal blood I am ecstatic! My every movement will be perfect now that I can take you seriously! So let us fight one last time! If I win, Rigel will be mine! You can keep Zofia, for all I care. I will fight alongside you and once the fighting is done we will rule Valentia together as family! If I lose however, all of Valentia remains yours, I lend you my strength and knowledge. I will heed your orders. So, what do you say, cousin? Willing to fight?"

Lucas calm voice breaks the silence, "Alm, he is in no position to make demands. You mustn't make any such deal."

"Yeah Alm," Gray agrees, "You don't have to listen to him! Valentia already belongs to you. You are the rightful heir to the imperial throne. Don't let yourself be fooled!"

Berkuts anger flares at such words, "Easy, you little mongrel, know your place!"

"Berkut!" Alm exhorts, "Do not talk to him like that! Do you think I would have come this far if not for them, who I consider my closest friends?! My equals?!"

"Your equals?!" Berkuts spits "Don't make me laugh. Just because the idea consumes you, doesn't mean it's true. Don't make me guess as what you see yourself… A hero who has risen from the masses? A mere peasant that has attained immense power and wrought an entire kingdom from the hands of an evil king? You think that is your story?! NO! You were born with a divine calling to do those things! You pretend you are equal to those around you, that you are one of them, but in the end you are just a fraud. And your hypocrisy can not change this fact! You can never be their saviour, because you never belonged among them in the first place! You are the proof that in the end, everything comes down to birthright and divine providence! Pretending that they can accomplish the same things as you makes you nothing but cruel! Maybe now it is dawning on you, that you aren't their equal at all. You have always been different, isn't that the truth?"

Alm gasps and takes a step back, completely in shock, 'Is Berkut right? Am I nothing more than a fraud?' Doubts enter Alms soul, 'Am I a faker? I am nobility after all. That much is true. Could an ordinary man have come this far? ... Yes, of that I am certain. I didn't come this far just because of my bloodline. I believe that working hard and going through pain made me accomplish these deeds. And that's why I can't leave Berkut with that belief of his, because he'll end up cursing his life.'

Proving him wrong. That's about all Alm can do for Berkut. That's the only way he can repay his father. It might be a meaningless gesture, but still….

'I do it so that Berkut, whose memories are now tainted by lies, who has lost his position… can realize that his life is still something he can be proud of!'

"It might be true that my royal blood gives me abilities above those of ordinary men," Alm admits, "All of us might have been born with different abilities, but we strive to reach our full potential! In that we are equal! And it isn't I who is wrong. It is you! You don't seem to realize the future that awaits you along that treacherous path you are heading down. If you keep holding onto the belief that a person's station is predetermined by birth, you will be nothing but a lonely creature bound by the weight of its futile ideals. So I will fight you, Berkut! I will win! And I will prove you wrong once and for all!"

"Tsk!" Berkut scoffs. "That, Alm, is the height of hubris!"

Alm readies his sword. His usual valor and strength in his stance. He pulls himself together, kicks the ground, and charges at Berkut. Berkut raises his lance.
The sharp edge of his halberd flashes as he swings it down onto Alm.
And…

Alm blocks the down-swipe with his sword. The two weapons hook into each other. And even though he blocked the blow, Alm cannot move. Berkut presses down from his elevated position on his horse and Alm has difficulties keeping his arms steady. Berkut's axe blade will split his head in two if he loosens his grip on the sword.

"Hngh…!"

Alm puts more strength into his arms in an attempt to shove the halberd back. Sweat forms on his forehead and his breathing fastens.

In contrast, Berkut's breathing is normal.
It is impossible for Alm to beat back Berkut while he is on his horse.

"This is it, Alm. It might have been different if you were in perfect condition, but you cannot fight on with your depleted strength. Yield!"

Alm doesn't answer and grits his teeth. His arms begin to shake under the strain.
His warm gaze meets the cold stare of Berkut. Berkut shifts his body in an attempt to put more force behind his attack.

The muscles on Alm's arms bulge.

"How long are you going to hold on to those foolish ideals of yours?" Berkut says while his gaze suddenly seems far away. It seems like his mind is elsewhere.

His attack loosens up.

Using that opening, Alm gets up and kicks Berkut's horse with his freed leg.

The horse whinnies, bulges a bit and draws back. Their weapons dislodge. Berkut retakes control of the destrier easily.

"Even if my beliefs are founded on false premises," says Alm. "My convictions will not go away. I have sworn to protect these people, to fulfill my duties and to be their sword. We fight alongside each other, as equals. Those are my ideals that I cannot give up and I won't give them up no matter who's telling me to. That's right. That's why I decided… That as long as I draw breath, I will believe in my path!"

"SILENCE!" bellows Berkut and kicks his horse in the sides, charging at Alm. "I'm tired of listening to the pretty little lies you've been fed with since you were a child! Why would you try so desperately to become a hero of equality?!"

Just before the pointed end of the halberd hits Alm, he rolls out of the way.

"It's not that I'm trying to become a hero of equality," counters Alm, "it's that I will become one no matter what!"

Berkut simply steers the destrier around and attacks again.

"Alm, these ideals of yours aren't even your own! They are those of Sir Mycen! You're wrong! You fool! You've let yourself become obsessed by this fantasy of you having to enable ordinary people. This reality you think awaits you is an illusion and you don't even know it! This world you're living in is nothing more than a fairy tale! There's no world where everybody is equal. Such a utopia does not exist anywhere in this world. Your search for such a thing while being the rightful successor to the imperial throne is just hypocrisy. You damn these peasants to a life in which they try to obtain the unattainable! Do you not see the cruelty of such a dream? The choice is yours. If you can not live without that dream, let it drag you down and drown you!"

"So then, that's it, Berkut!" says Alm, "I will not lose to you...Justice is on my side!"

"You're so blinded by justice. You cannot even see how outmatched you are! These people around you are nothing more than villagers!"

"And according to you," retorts Alm, "that makes them completely worthless. But you are wrong, Berkut! I bet their weapons can cut your noble knights down just as fast as anyone else's! So come on, Berkut! Let's see whose blade cuts deeper!"

"I thought you'd never ask," answers Berkut. "Crush the enemy!"

The noble knights at his sides charge forward, their armored warhorses galloping, the men safely positioned behind a wall of shields and pikes; his own army—his friends—break into a run, shouting as they come, and then the armies clash. The first bodies hit the ground.

There is chaos around them. And in the middle of it all, Alm and Berkut. Their battle shrinking to the few feet of ground around them. Berkuts halberd lashes out and Alm knocks it aside. The knight lets his horse dance back for another try, spurs it on and tries to trample Alm beneath its hooves. But Alm sidesteps and swirls, slicing with the royal sword, only to be blocked by Berkuts shield.

Every cut, every strike, every word, focuses on overturning the ideals of the other.

"Alm... Just...give up..!" demands Berkut, circling around Alm, raining strong blows down on him. "There's no way I'd lose to a cheap peasant king like you! You are nothing to me! Meet your end! Die, die, die..!" Every word is accompanied by swipes and stabs.

Alm doesn't care for his words.
For now, all he does is dodge, block and parry. Analysis of all the attacks and circlings cannot be completed with his eyes alone, Alms senses run wild and… at last he swings his sword and slashes Berkut square across his chest.

The sword easily cuts through Berkuts armor. The Rigelian knight screams in surprise, but is not unseated. He brings his steed to a stop several meters away from Alm and examines the damage. Though the royal sword cut easily through his armor, the cut itself isn't deep. Still, his breathing has become harder and he let's out a burning ball of air that was searing the walls of his lungs.

Sweat is forming on his brow and he regards his enemy with a contemptuous look.

"What a surprise," Berkut says, while Rinea uses the pause to heal his wound with her staff, "I didn't think that golden sword of yours would be capable of piercing my armor. But don't get cocky, this was your one chance. I will not give you a second."

Berkut charges again.

"You must admit that both of us are nothing but fools who know their dreams are unattainable but come anyways. Frauds, on different sides of the spectrum, without a will of their own, who wasted their lives filling out ridiculous roles that were never theirs to begin with. Can you finally admit that's who we truly are? We were misguided by one and the same person. Both of us, defects of humanity! And YOU! ...You should never have existed in the first place!"

"No! I won't let you say that, Berkut. It's true, we have opposite beginnings, but my father was a decent man, with the best intentions and even if I may eventually become like my father, all the more if that is the case. I will adhere to my principles. That is why I have to deny that birth dictates our fate. I will not approve of such a notion as long as I exist!"

"Then you are a dead man walking! You saw King Rudolf. You saw his end. He is your ideal? Is this the life you want? The hollow life of a benevolent emperor? The sword of damocles forever hanging over your head? Loved by none of his subjects. Hated by the masses. The life of someone who gives his all for the kingdom and for what? To die at the hands of the one he has sworn to protect, with nothing but a blissful smile plastered on his face? You are not the man for such a thing. Your life is a false life! Just as mine is false! Children will often idolize their parents. But, when he died by your hand, a curse was your inheritance. That man left you no choice but to become a hero. An emperor. But the ideals you cling to are secondhand. Ideals that you will never be able to live up to, since you didn't get here because of your skill. No, you got here only because you are of royal blood and because that birthmark of yours has destined you to get here. In the end, all you're doing is acting out a prophecy. There is no skill in fulfilling destiny. Every move you make is predetermined. Do you think just anyone could have done what you did? Pah! Your birth... your story… is the very proof that there is no such thing as equality."

There seems to be no end to this onslaught of attacks. What overwhelming power!
The true strength of Lord Berkut, of the man said to be the strongest knight of Rigel!

And Alm could not object to those words because they were the truth. King Rudolf, in many ways, embodied Alms ideal. A power to make the impossible possible. An existence that saved many people. It was Alm who wanted to become such a person.

'That's why I can't match Berkut. The man in front of me is the end of that road. He knows far more about my ideal, about the price of power.'

This is it.

Alm can only defend against his attacks.
Berkut's lance will kill him if he tries to counter.

No, first of all, he does not have anything to spare for a counterattack.
The only resistance Alm is allowed is to block Berkut's attacks until he runs out of energy.

And that should not take long.
The magical energy in Berkuts halberd scrapes away his royal sword with each attack.
The sword cannot take any more, and Alm's arms become tired.

The battle is at an end.

"That… isn't… true!", Alms screams each word between blocked attacks.

Berkut onslaught of attacks stops, he breathes heavily, "Think, would you?! Do you not see that you've been betrayed? Just like I have been betrayed?"

"Are you accusing my father of betraying you? You're wrong! He loved you! He worried about you to the last! You knew him so much better than I did. How can you not see that?"

"How am I to believe he loved me if he didn't even trust me with the truth?!" asks Berkut between heavy breaths and lets his halberd rain down on Alm, "He led me to believe I was destined for greatness while I was not. He was cruel to make me believe I could ever be more than a lowly advisor to you." The aggression fades from Berkuts attacks. His enmity towards Alm is gone. "How could I ever forgive him?"

"It's not true, Berkut!" exclaims Alm and swings at Berkut, "Your destiny is not set in stone by birthright alone, just as my wasn't! Both of us can fill the roles of those who help others and change the world with our combined wisdom and strength! Tell me, Berkut, if you do not fight for your people who do you even fight for?

"I've always only fought for myself and to display my strength," answers Berkut and dodges, "I can only rely on my power! Damn you, Alm. I refuse to live in your shadow! You miserable fraud! I shall teach you a lesson!"

"It seems to me like you've lost a lot of things."

"You've got it all wrong, peasant king!" screams Berkut, "I'm here, fighting you, because I never had claim to those things to begin with. Your existence changed everything! It's only natural for me to deny you! As the true successor, you are the one person I can never bring myself to accept."

"I see. I suppose," says Alm his thoughts spinning.

'What Berkut says is mostly true, but I can't help but think there is something he misses.'

Alm blocks a sweeping downcut that sends a jolt of impact up his arm.

'What was the point of me, surviving until now? Why did I get this far? At first, I started this journey just to save Sir Mycens name, an attempt to make a difference in other people's lives. Yes, I loved the thought of everyone fighting side by side as equals. United by one dream…. A dream that all this fighting could be undone... The dream of a farm boy who couldn't help anyone... But I have made friends along this way. I've made important choices and gave it my all… It is my will that has gotten us this far and it will see me through this, too!'

"We can find a solution to this, Berkut!" screams Alm over the rage of battle, "We must!"

"No, Alm!" says Berkut, lifting his halberd with heavy arms, "There's no world where nobody gets hurt, nor can one seek happiness without hurting others."

"There's no need for sacrifices," Alm blocks the attack, "Of course, there will be losses along the way, but as little people as possible will get hurt if we work hard and do our best. My father would have surely yearned for that as well.
So that is why…"

He swirls and puts all his strength into his next attack.

"...You must lose this fight!"

The sword shines in the light of the flames as Alm swings it, the time seems to slow down for a moment. Alms weapon crashes against Berkuts. And in one swift motion, breaks through. The halberd shatters and the strike goes through his defense. Alm is dimly aware of Rinea screaming.

It only took that one quick slash.

Berkut is unseated, he hits the ground with a cracking sound that turns Alms stomach. The war horse whinnies and backs off.

"Do you yield, Berkut?" asks Alm, standing over him.

Blood is running down Berkuts face and he is shaking. Slowly, as if unsure of the damage he just received, he sits up and with a strong voice proclaims, "I yield!"

As the other fighters around them realize what has happened, they too, cease their fighting.

"Berkut, I have bested you in battle. Do you now see that you have been wrong all along?" asks Alm.

Unable even to breath, Berkut puts his hand on the floor, desperately trying to hold his countenance together.

"Hehehehe…" Berkuts puts a hand to his face and a desperate, manic laugh fills the hall. With dark voice, Berkut speaks, "I beg to suggest, with greatest respect and veneration, that your excellency is an idiot… Yes, you have won, Alm. But all you have done is prove me right. The true king of Rigel, Rudolf the II, has put me in my place... Just as expected, no one can ascend above his station... Not even I... My role has been set in stone all along and I didn't even know. What foolishness to strive for more than what has been given at birth. As I said, my strength and knowledge is yours. I must do as you command."

Alm is shocked, this is not what he expected to happen, "I thank you for laying down your weapon, but I don't want you to despair! You can still reach for greatness, but at my side, as my ally. I know you can still fulfill your dreams."

Berkut simply scoffs, "What does his Excellency know of the dreams of those below him? ...My dreams have been shattered with the revelation of your true identity, Alm… A hero of legend can only save the people he sides with… which is why we must side with you or be destroyed. It is the natural order of things. Do not look at me like that. Don't you dare pity me! Birth might have dictated my place, but I will fill it with nothing less but ultimate perfection. I will swear my lance to you. Come Rinea!" Rinea is quickly by his side, giving him support. Berkut lays his hand on her head and presses his mouth against her hairline. Alm must strain his ears to hear his next words, as they are not meant for him. "Forgive me, my love… I couldn't change my fate…"

And she answers, softspoken, "My Lord Berkut… it is as you said… I am confident that Alm will be a kind and just ruler with your guidance. We will serve Alm well... If he will have us."

Both of them give Alm a quizzical look and he recruits them. He knows, this is not the end of it. This is merely the beginning.

So, I believe unhealthy ideals hurt those the most who actually believe in them... if I didn't make it clear enough.

Soooo... this is not the end. Do you like this? Is this something that interests you? Then please leave a comment saying so.

I know I've been waiting for something like this to be written (and then decided to write it myself). If this inspires you to write something similar, please go ahead.

Heavily inspired and influenced by the Emiya/Archer fight in Fate stay/night. Because it's by far the best example of how to let different believes clash against each other. I recommend watching the 2014 series if you're bored.