It was raining.
The night was dark; the moon's light couldn't manage to break through the ceiling of those ominous and shadowy clouds that hung over head. Under the cover of this storm, she could not see the stars in the sky. Those lights that she would always look to were no where to be found.
The Flame Emperor stood stalk still, unaffected by the rain pelting her armor. The trees around her swayed in the wind. The rustling of the leaves and the constant pounding of the falling rain made it impossible to hear anything but the sound of her beating heart that seemed to be growing louder by the second.
Even so… Even in this storm… Even in this darkness…
She could still feel them approach.
She could still feel him approach.
The hair on the back of her neck bristled as their presence drew closer. Her heartbeat elevated. Her breathing quickened. Edelgard bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, hoping the slight pain would focus her mind elsewhere.
"Flame Emperor."
Edelgard resisted the urge to shiver as Thales spoke her alias. The metal of her armor creaked as she turned to face them.
It seemed as though the snake elected to shed its skin on this night. The man before her was not the uncle she remembered; but the cruel, disgusting creature she had come to know far too well. His skin, white as a ghost, almost seemed to glow in this dark of night. Those lifeless holes he called eyes bored into hers, piercing her very core. How she hated those eyes… Devoid of all humanity. It made her nauseous just looking at them.
Edelgard's gaze shifted to the smaller woman beside him. The disgust and unease she felt at Thales's presence all but vanished as her eyes landed on a head of red hair.
"You…"
Monica's eyes widened as Edelgard's hand shot out, a gargled groan escaping her lips as the emperor's gauntlet closed around her neck in a vice grip. Her sneer became pained as Edelgard's fingers dug deeper into her flesh.
"I should kill you where you stand," Edelgard growled, her chest igniting with uncontrollable rage. Monica's face began to redden as the hand gripping her throat tightened even more. "You deserve far, far worse than the death I'll give you."
Monica frantically clawed at her grip as Edelgard lifted her into the air. With her free hand, Edelgard reached to her back, where she still carried the dagger she was given long ago-
Thales stepped towards her, frowning slightly.
"Flame Emperor… Is she offending you?" His voice slithered out from his lips. "Unfortunately-"
His pale, wrinkled hand fell upon Edelgard's arm.
She flinched instinctively, immediately dropping Monica and backing away. Monica fell to the ground, her hands gingerly holding her bruised neck as she greedily gasped for air.
"There is still something I require her to do."
"I've had enough of your schemes." Edelgard glared at him from behind her helmet. "I told you very clearly to leave the professor be, yet time and time again you disobey my orders."
"We haven't disobeyed anything." Thales cocked an eyebrow. "We have honored your wishes against our better judgement. Were it not for the fact that Kronya's death would unveil the mystery behind our bodies, I wouldn't have laid a finger to him."
"Do not try my patience," Edelgard spat. "You murdered his father. He was... a friend."
"The Fell Star still breathes, just as you wished. The Blade Breaker was never part of the arrangement, however," Thales replied coolly. "You are our greatest creation. We used the defiled beast's blood as the fuel to your flame, that you may burn even the gods. The Blade Breaker would have only been one more obstacle in the bringing of our salvation."
The man- no, the monster that Edelgard despised nearly more than anything in this world took a step closer to her.
This time, she did not move an inch. She stared up at him defiantly, not allowing herself to falter again.
"If you truly believe he can be swayed to our cause, we will continue to uphold our end of the bargain," Thales continued. "We will only act in… self-defense in regard to your professor, I assure you."
Edelgard's brows twitched. Self-defense…?
Edelgard was no fool; she knew full well how badly they desired Byleth's death. They wanted him gone as badly as she wanted him to stay. There was no reality in which she would believe such a statement.
However…
The Flame Emperor's eyes landed on Monica. She was still rubbing her throat, her own gaze fixated on her. She was still breathing heavily, her eyes glassy as she watched Edelgard.
If Byleth were to seek them out himself… If Byleth were to search for Jeralt's killer on his own accord… Just as it was with their other inhumane acts, they could simply claim that harming Byleth was an unfortunate or unforeseen consequence. They could kill him once and for all and claim it was in 'self-defense.' In a sick, twisted way, Thales wouldn't have lied. Of course, Edelgard truly doubted he cared about that part. As always, he seemed intent on continuing with his veiled statements and threats. His deceit was one of the many things Edelgard hated about the man.
Did they truly find her so weak to announce this plan directly in her presence? Was that why he brought Monica along? Simply to flaunt this in front of Edelgard? What did they have at their disposal that could give them such blind confidence? Or were they simply vying on the fact that without them, Edelgard was powerless? As much as she hated to admit such a thing, there was truth to that. A war with the church was one thing, but once the Alliance and the Kingdom joined, the odds wouldn't be in her favor. Taking three armies on at once was near suicide. Without them, any war would be a longshot to swing in the Empire's favor. As things stood, it was unlikely she could accomplish her goals without their assistance. Thales knew it, and she knew it.
"Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth; there will be no salvation for you and your kind."
The Flame Emperor waved her hand dismissively.
"Be gone from my sight."
Though their meeting was short, Edelgard had gotten all she needed. While she would have preferred to gut Monica like the beast she was, Edelgard supposed that wasn't her decision to make; it was Byleth's. If he could break from his stupor, and still wished to hunt her down after Edelgard informed him of her findings, then she would willingly follow his lead. Even if it meant stepping right into the trap she had no doubt they would prepare, she would follow him; Edelgard would keep him safe. With every fiber of her being, she would keep him safe.
"Very well, Flame Emperor." Thales dipped his head. "Let us hope that the next time we meet, it will be to commemorate the ushering in of a new dawn over Fódlan."
Thales turned away from her, his cape fluttering in the wind. Grabbing Monica's shoulder, he pushed her forward. Monica stumbled along, shooting Edelgard one final sneer as they departed. Oh, how she would love nothing more to see that expression beneath the heel of her boot…
With a sinking feeling in her chest, Edelgard watched as purple light enveloped them. She watched as they vanished into the dark they crept out from.
Sighing, she lowered her head, her gaze falling on the mud beneath her feet.
A cloud above had parted, allowing some of the moon's rays to break free. That ethereal light seemed to gravitate towards her, cascading down and bringing but a spec of light to the dreary world that surrounded her. With its light, she could see the reflection of her helmet in a puddle beneath her. Though its image was distorted by the falling rain, she could still see those artificial eyes staring up at her.
Edelgard took a step forward. The image disappeared as her boot fell into the water.
I will keep him safe.
The next day, it was still raining.
It felt as if it had rained since that day two weeks ago. Edelgard had yet to see the light of sun hidden behind the clouds of white and grey. On a night where she had hardly gotten more than an hour of sleep, the sun's light and warmth would have been very welcomed.
The emperor sat at her desk in the Eagles' homeroom, her fingers drumming against the surface as she stared at the blank chalkboard at the front of the room. She resisted the urge to yawn. Edelgard could not allow her tiredness to affect her.
Two weeks had gone by. Two weeks. Two weeks since Professor Byleth had set foot in this classroom. Her classmates were beginning to worry; they hadn't seen much of him at all. He was either holed up in Jeralt's office or was isolated in his room. Edelgard had seen him a dozen or so times since that day, but there had been no change to her Byleth's demeanor. After that day, she had yet to see him smile, laugh, or even cry. After those first few days, it seemed his tears had dried out.
It was… upsetting. She did not want to rush him. Byleth should have his time to grief, and she personally knew how hard a mountain that was to climb. But the distant, lifeless look in his eyes… It was chilling. It made her feel uneasy. The look she saw in those blue eyes now reminded her of the mercenary she met so many moons ago…
The door to the class opened. Edelgard shot up in her seat, turning her head to see-
"Good morning, students!"
Professor Hanneman stumbled in, his hair a disheveled mess. He adjusted his monocle hastily with one hand, as his other was carrying a mess of books and papers.
"I apologize for my tardiness," the older professor chuckled awkwardly as he set his belongings down on Byleth's desk. Though, it was more like he dropped them there. "I had a meeting with Professor Byleth and lost track of time."
Edelgard shifted in her seat at the sound of his name.
"Professor Byleth?!" Dorothea perked up. "How is he?
"And do you know when our professor might return?" Edelgard asked, reeling her rampant emotions in.
"He's… managing," Hanneman sighed, tinkering with his monocle again. "The good professor is taking another personal day today. I'm afraid I don't know when he might return."
"I see…"
Edelgard slumped in her seat. The mood in the Eagle classroom plummeted with that. It felt as though everyone's head lowered. Lysithea frowned beside her.
"Um, P-Professor?" Bernadetta raised a hand.
"Yes, child?"
"D-do you know if… if he's visited him yet?"
Hanneman blinked a few times, titling his head to the side. Bernadetta wilted under his curious gaze.
"Visited who?"
"The captain's grave," Hubert answered for her. "The funeral was yesterday. The professor did not attend."
"Oh, right, of course." Hanneman nodded, his lips drooping downward. "I am sorry, but I do not."
"Surely he will…" Flayn mumbled. "…Right?"
"Doubt it." Felix frowned.
Edelgard glanced at her Eagle classmate. His eyes were lost in thought, his brows knitted together as he stared at the top of his desk.
…Would Byleth truly not visit his father's grave? She knew he visited his mother quite often, but… The fact that Edelgard wasn't certain was a frightening realization. She truly did not know. Given his emotional state, she had a hunch he very well might not. She was aware that he didn't like crowds very much, but still… She worried what it might mean that he didn't attend his father's funeral.
The class began to murmur amongst themselves; most of it revolving around their professor.
"I am sure Professor Byleth will do whatever he is most comfortable with," Hanneman interjected, quieting the crowd. "We should not push him for anymore."
A few heads nodded in agreement. A sound piece of advice. There was no fault in that logic; during a time of loss, one should do what they are comfortable with instead of what is expected of them.
Sound or not, Edelgard could not fully agree with it. Again, she did not want to rush the professor, but… She feared that if someone did not give him a slight push, he might not take another step forward for the foreseeable future. That he might not want to move forward, nor have the will to.
Edelgard knew that feeling better than anyone…
"Now, you will not be needing any textbooks today, because we will be studying Crests!"
A few of her fellow students groaned. Linhardt seemed to be the only one that seemed intrigued.
As Hanneman's lecture began, Edelgard's attention waned. The scholar spoke in length about how certain Crests might affect an individual's personality or perhaps their taste buds, but Edelgard couldn't find much will to listen. She prided herself on being a stellar student, but on this day, her mind was still too preoccupied with the well-being of her professor. It was a sentiment that seemed to be shared by a better half of the class, as many of her friends' faces seemed to be just as listless as hers. Their eyes were unfocused, their pens or quills resting motionlessly inbetween their fingers.
To Hanneman's credit, he did not seem to mind. He either was too enraptured in his own lecture, or simply chose to ignore their blank faces all things considered. Either way, Edelgard was thankful.
Pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, Edelgard shook her head. She had to stop thinking about him, if only for an hour out of the day.
Sitting up in her chair, she tried to wrangle in her focus and pay attention to Hanneman's lecture. Placing her quill to her paper, she readied herself to take some notes. While she found the idea that Crests could dictate fate or character traits to be utterly false and even insulting, she would be setting a bad example as house leader if she didn't at least try.
"Crests can manifest a number of intriguing, yet logic-defying traits within the human body. Much of it is purely conjecture, of course, but in some instances-"
Edelgard sighed in resignation, glancing down at a paper. Not a word was written. It truly was hopeless, wasn't it? She'd simply ask to borrow Hubert's notes later; he always wrote a copy down for her benefit, just in case.
Resting her forehead against her hand, she allowed her quill to move unrestricted across the white paper. Some circles here, lines there… She did not give much thought as to what she was drawing; Edelgard simply let her hand capture the first thing that came to mind.
Hanneman continued to ramble on in the background as Edelgard drew.
Before she knew it, there was the outline of a head and two eyes on the page. Much more effort and intricacy were put into the eyes so far compared to the rest of the drawing.
What am I doing? This is childish…
Repressing a sigh, Edelgard set her quill down and pushed the paper aside. She was in the middle of class. To actually be drawing a portrait of him... Just what was she thinking?
…A moment later, she pulled the paper back and continued.
As the hands of the clock ticked away, twenty minutes, thirty, forty, Edelgard continued to draw. Using the image in her mind as a template, she sketched his face. Not the face of Professor Eisner or the Ashen Demon, but the face of her Byleth. The smiling face she recalled so vividly. Those gentle, loving eyes that it felt like only she was permitted to see.
Her lips subconsciously curved upwards as she recalled the night they shared at the Goddess Tower.
It was only weeks ago, yet… it felt like years.
Edelgard was so lost in her drawing, that when the academy bells rang, she nearly fell out of her seat.
Had time truly passed by so quickly?
"That'll be all for today, children," Hanneman said, placing his chalk down. "Professor Manuela or I will be here again tomorrow pending Professor Byleth's decision."
…Surely he'd come back tomorrow, right?
The rummaging of papers filled the classroom as her Eagle classmates began to put away their belongings for the day. Usually such a joyous occasion for some, but every Eagle seemed to be dragging their feet as they exited the classroom. Even Hubert seemed a little slow in gathering his things.
"Edelgard?"
She felt Lysithea stir beside her. Out of the corners of her eyes, she could see Lysithea's gaze land on Edelgard's drawing of Byleth.
The princess quickly flipped the paper over, pushing it aside. Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment.
"Yes, Lysithea?" Edelgard asked, composing herself.
Lysithea's eyes softened as they lingered on the paper. They met Edelgard's before shifting to the floor.
"Nothing." Lysithea shook her head, rising to her feet. "I was only going to say that… I thought your sketch of the professor was nice."
Edelgard's blush deepened, turning her head away in shame.
"It was childish," the emperor murmured.
"I don't think so."
Edelgard's brows raised, her gaze inching back towards her friend. She seemed genuine…
"You should give it to him. I bet it'd make him happy." Lysithea smiled, only for it to crack seconds later. The younger girl paused, her head angling to the floor. "Do you… Do you think he'll be back soon?"
"I…" Edelgard hesitated. "Do not know. I hope so."
"Me too. I'm beginning to miss him," Lysithea mumbled sheepishly, her voice so low that Edelgard could barely make it out. The mage shook her head, returning to her usual self. "Well, I must be off. I want to get some studying done in the library before dinner. Farewell, Edelgard."
"Farewell, Lysithea," she replied absently, her eyes following the former Deer as she hurriedly made an exit out of the classroom.
The Eagles' leader expected a multitude of responses from Lysithea. Perhaps some anger that Byleth had yet to return to class. Perhaps some annoyance that he had let up in his teaching duties.
But, that? Honestly admitting that she missed Byleth's presence? While not unexpected, as the two were quite close, it was still a surprise to Edelgard. Lysithea tried harder than anyone to appear capable and without fault. To think she would allow such a moment of 'weakness' in front of Edelgard…
"Are you ready, Lady Edelgard?"
Edelgard rose from her seat, turning to face Hubert, who was patiently waiting behind her.
She turned her head back to the hidden drawing on her desk.
Placing a hand to its surface, she nodded just once.
"I am, Hubert."
The rain was dying down.
Byleth stood at the new window in his father's office, staring out over the academy campus below. He listened to the bells ring, signaling the end of classes for the day. He watched as students scurried underneath the fall of rain, using umbrellas or their book bags to shelter themselves from the water. He spotted a few familiar faces in the crowd. A Caspar here, a Petra there. Byleth idly wondered how their class went today, but that slight musing was dashed as quickly as it appeared.
In the surface of the window's glass, he could see a reflection. A reflection of a man with eyes sharp as daggers. A face that did not move, as though frozen in time. If Byleth did not know any better, he would think he was looking at a painting. The image in the glass was as lifeless as he felt.
Byleth always hated his reflection. For nearly two decades, he loathed it. The face he saw in a mirror never seemed to be in sync with how he felt deep down.
The same might not be true now, but he despised it all the same.
Byleth turned away.
Though, no matter where he turned, he could not escape reality.
His eyes immediately landed on the bundle of clothes left on his father's desk. They had been there for near two weeks.
He hadn't worn his usual outfit since that day, and that wasn't going to change now.
Byleth swiped a hand over the desk, pushing the clothing to the ground.
The mercenary quietly sat down in his father's chair. As he fell into the seat, he did not sigh, he did not frown. There were no outward signs of emotion. He simply stared listlessly straight ahead.
"Your father's funeral was last night…" Sothis broke the strained silence. "Are you going to go see him?"
"No."
What did it matter? Him being at the funeral service didn't change anything. It wasn't like Jeralt would give a damn if he went or not. What obligation did Byleth have to attend? Why was it that when someone died, people on the outside looking in always had their set expectations of how the grieving family should act? Why did he, the son that just lost his father, have to act according to the 'standard?' It was lunacy.
Funerals were for those left behind when one passes, and Byleth wanted no part in it. He'd grief on his own; he didn't need to do it publicly.
Besides… Everyone was there. If he went, he'd have to sit through each and every person coming up to him to give their condolences… He couldn't deal with that. Not again.
Byleth would mourn for his father… Just after everyone else was gone and got their fill. It was better that way.
The door to Jeralt's quarters opened. Byleth lifted his head as Alois walked in. As the two met eyes, Alois smiled, but Byleth could see how stilted it was.
"Ah… Here you are," Jeralt's former squire said as he entered the room.
Byleth lowered his head.
"Here I am."
Alois's carefully constructed expression flickered as Byleth spoke. Uncertainty. Concern. Sorrow. Though Byleth himself did not express these emotions, he could spot them clear as day.
"I was going to visit the Captain's grave to pay my respects," Alois spoke carefully, as though he was treading on broken glass. "Would you care to join me?"
"No."
"Fair enough." Alois nodded, his pained smile returning. "I had a feeling you might say that, anyways."
"Why are you here?"
"Lady Rhea was looking for you."
Byleth's hands tightened into fists. Rhea…
"What does she want?" He spat.
Alois's eyes widened at the pure hostility in his tone. It seemed as though Byleth's human heart hadn't disappeared entirely. Not yet, anyway.
"I'm not sure," Alois replied slowly, examining Byleth cautiously. "I imagine she wanted to speak with you about your father."
Byleth had nothing he wanted to say to her; nothing kind, that is. Unless she was summoning him to finally explain how she was involved in his past and his parents' lives, he wanted nothing to do with her. Rhea had nearly ten months now to answer these questions Byleth had been searching for all his life…
And she didn't. Why wasn't important. What mattered was that she chose not to. It wasn't as though there wasn't a right time. Rhea had ample opportunity to explain his birth and his mother's death; she simply chose not to. Even if she suddenly decided to explain it after the fact, Byleth couldn't muster up any kind emotions towards the archbishop.
Byleth had always done what was asked of him. He did what she wanted, sometimes against his better judgement. He and the Eagles put down a rebellion. They killed Miklan. They rescued Flayn. They won the Battle of The Eagle and Lion. They rushed to Remire's aid. They killed the Demonic Beasts that appeared within their territory, at the cost of his father's life. Lives were lost in her name.
Byleth had done it all, yet never once did Rhea ever think to return the favor with something as simple as a conversation regarding his past. How little must she respect or trust him to not even broach the subject…
Time and time again, it seemed as though Rhea continued to keep him in the dark.
Well, Byleth was through with being kept in the dark. He would get his answers.
One way or another.
"Very well," Byleth muttered, his voice raspy. He would entertain her request, only because he had enough insight left to know better than to disobey her now.
He rose to his feet, stepping over the discarded clothing as he made his way to door. Byleth stopped after a few feet, his eyes landing on the Sword of the Creator. His fabled weapon was leaning up against the wall, dormant as it waited for Byleth's touch to return to it.
Byleth had not held his sword since that day… Just like his armor, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Painful memories were attached to that blade.
Reluctantly, he grabbed the sword by the hilt. In an instant, the Sword of the Creator glowed a bright red. The light was stronger than it had been before, as if the weapon had missed his hand and reacted in kind. Despite everything, he had missed it too… The grip was familiar. The weight was familiar. The texture was familiar. Having lost so much, that familiarity was comforting.
Byleth strapped it to his waist. The legendary blade must have looked so out of place on the man that wore nothing but a black tunic and some grey, wool pants.
"Byleth?"
Alois broke the silence. Byleth raised his head, glancing towards the downtrodden man. Alois's brow was furrowed, as though he was debating on whether he should speak.
"I hope you know that you were the most important thing in the world to him," Alois continued, meeting Byleth's eyes. "Your father, I mean."
Byleth lowered his head, averting his gaze.
"Why are you telling me this?" He asked softly.
Why was he telling him this now?
"Because someone should." Alois nodded, seeming confident with that response. "He wasn't the most emotional guy. I'm sure expressing his affection wouldn't have come naturally to him."
It did not, but Byleth felt like Jeralt had slowly changed as they spent more time at the monastery. He was more… expressive and honest. They had shared many affectionate moments between father and son that Byleth valued immensely. The months they spent together here were some of the happiest in his life; which made losing them completely all the more painful.
The professor closed his eyes, remembering the very last time he had received his father's affections. Byleth scratched at his chest, his fingers brushing against the ring he still wore beneath his shirt. The pain in his heart as he recalled Jeralt's final words was greater than he could ever imagine. As a mercenary, and as a professor, he had been wounded many times. Byleth had felt the stings of swords, lances, axes, arrows, and on one occasion, a scythe.
To think that a simple sentence could cut him deeper than any of those sharpened weapons… At this point, Byleth would have rather been ran through by a lance then have to deal with… this.
Byleth flinched as he felt a hand fall upon his shoulder. His eyes snapped open, immediately jumping to Alois.
"After what's happened, it's up to me now." Alois smiled widely at him as he spoke. "I, Alois, swear to protect you in the Captain's stead!"
Byleth's eyes widened.
"…Protect me?"
"Of course!" Alois replied eagerly. "On my honor as a knight, I will protect you with my very life!"
'I will do all I can to protect you.'
He felt a familiar stinging in his eyes as he recalled the last time someone spoke those words to him, but there were no tears this time.
'You are not alone. Never will you be alone.'
Edelgard loved him so dearly… Alois wanted to protect him. His students wanted to be there for him. Sothis was always watching over him, never once retiring for a nap. They all just wanted to… help him. They all… loved him.
Even now, while everyone was so worried for him, he shut them out. He ignored their classes to isolate himself in Jeralt's room. He continued to push them away. The guilt he felt when he asked Hanneman to cover for him again today was near unbearable, yet he did it anyway. Byleth couldn't seem to break himself from this stupor.
For the past two weeks, he stood at that window, trying so desperately to find the stars. He hoped that in their radiance he might find answers. He just wanted to see those stars he once looked upon with his father. To once more see those bright, shining lights. To once more see that streak across the sky. To once more see that guiding light. It was silly, but Byleth felt that if they were still there… Then maybe not everything had changed.
As he watched the stars from that windowsill, pleading that they weren't lost as well, the world passed him by. As he stood still, the world spun on.
And yet, such pitiful complacency did not change how his students viewed him. It did not change how Sothis viewed him. It did not change how Alois, Manuela, or Hanneman viewed him. They still cared for him all the same, as if Byleth had committed no faults.
Did… Did Byleth do anything worthy enough for such compassion? Such sympathy?
I… I just don't want to fail them, too.
"You could not possibly fail them, Byleth. Or me, for that matter," Sothis whispered in his ears. Her voice was filled with so much… affection. So much fondness. So much… love.
Byleth wanted to understand it. He wanted to understand all of it; all of these emotions swirling in his chest. This never-ending pain… This longing for things to go back to normal… This desire to be anyone, anything else.
"Sorry," Alois sighed, breaking Byleth's reverie. "This isn't the time for my blathering."
"No." He shook his head. "You do not need to apologize."
Byleth swallowed to wet his dry throat.
"And… Thank you."
Alois blinked, his brows raising.
His dumbstruck expression quickly morphed into a grin. Not long after, Alois found his words.
"You need not thank me, Byleth. From now until the end of time, I, Alois, will be here for you; whatever you need," Alois paused, shifting his weight to his back foot. "And not solely out of obligation for the Captain."
Byleth met his eyes. Alois's gaze was so sturdy… Unwavering. Not a trace of doubt or hesitation. He truly meant that.
If only he could be as strong as Alois.
"Anyways-"
Alois patted Byleth once more on the shoulder before stepping away.
"I should take my leave. I wouldn't want to keep you from your meeting with Lady Rhea."
With the mention of Rhea's name, Byleth's mind cleared; it sharpened. His muscles subconsciously clenched as her name echoed in his head. His hands tightened into fists.
Reality came screaming back.
"Farewell, Byleth." Alois nodded his farewell as he made his exit to the door. He stopped before he reached the doorway, turning his head back to him. "If you're up to it, perhaps later I could enthrall you with some stories of your father's past over a warm meal?"
Though Byleth's face might not betray his inner turmoil, he had to stop his shoulders before they could slump.
It was not that he didn't like Alois. On any other day, Byleth would jump at such a proposition to listen to his father's mysterious past.
It was just the idea of discussing Jeralt still made Byleth sore.
"Very well," Byleth found himself replying all the same. After Alois's assurances that he would protect the professor with his life, Byleth couldn't deny him.
Alois smiled widely, shooting Byleth a salute before he left. Why a simple agreement made the knight so happy, Byleth did not understand. Surely eating a meal with someone such as bland as himself could not be that exciting.
With the knight gone, Byleth rested a hand against Jeralt's desk. Leaning against it, he sighed.
Despite his grievances on how the mourning son should act during his father's death, Byleth still agreed.
Perhaps he was simply weak…
The doors to the archbishop's chambers creaked as Byleth pushed them open. He had not set foot in this room since the day Jeralt died, and he didn't particularly want to be there now. It wouldn't have been much of a stretch to say that Byleth would rather be anywhere else.
Byleth's eyes were immediately drawn to the green-haired woman standing at the back of the chamber. As he strode through the room, Rhea turned to meet him.
Rhea's green eyes always left Byleth with a jumble of emotions. He had found comfort in her gentle gaze during the start of his tenure, but now... The longer Byleth stared into them, the more he felt as though Rhea wasn't staring at him, but in him. As though she was trying to peer into his depths to see what might lay underneath. Byleth did not like being dissected like that. Those probing eyes of hers left him feeling uncomfortable and vulnerable.
That was no different now. Though Rhea still had her serene smile plastered across her face as she watched Byleth walk towards her, he could feel those eyes scrutinizing him still. Just as before, it made him feel anxious. The hair on the back of his neck stood up on end. The anger he felt towards the woman flared in his chest.
"Try and make this quick," Sothis requested, her voice soft and filled with trepidation. "I do not like being in this room any longer than necessary."
Understood.
Byleth came to a stop before the archbishop, steeling himself.
"Professor," Rhea greeted him as he drew near. There was a twinge to her voice, but Byleth couldn't pinpoint it. "I have been waiting for you."
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Byleth spoke.
"Lady Rhea." Byleth bowed.
In the past, he had always done such an act out of formality and respect for her position as his boss.
Now, it was simply automated. That respect was long gone; it had left with his father.
"It is a relief to see you, Byleth." Rhea smiled gently at him.
"What is it you needed?" Byleth asked, ignoring her words.
Rhea faltered, her clasped hands fidgeting near her abdomen.
"I wanted to formally give you my condolences." Rhea closed her eyes, her lips curving into a frown. "I am filled with grief at the loss of our most celebrated knight. Jeralt was an ally of many years… and also a dear friend."
Byleth went rigid, his nostrils twitching.
Jeralt was his father before any of that.
He was his father.
"I was under the impression that my father left the monastery?" Byleth replied carefully. He did not want to give away more than necessary, nor did he want to openly rebuke her statement.
"He… he did; you are correct."
Rhea deflated as she sighed, her stormy eyes drifting to the stone floor.
"Your father fell in love with one of the nuns here at Garreg Mach. Their love produced a child… whom she died giving birth to."
Byleth's eyes widened.
"It was her decision," Rhea continued, oblivious to Byleth's reaction. "She weighed her own life against that of her child's and, in the end, implored me to save the child. Your father… never truly accepted that decision. He took the child- took you- and disappeared without warning. It is true that we did not meet again until you both came to the monastery."
"Byleth…" Sothis cautioned in a low voice. Given their connection, the goddess could likely feel his growing anger at being lied to. His anger at the fact that Rhea refused to say his mother's name.
Rhea wasn't aware of the fact that Byleth had read Jeralt's accounts of those days. While he could never prove that Rhea was in fact lying to him, it was rather telling that she and his father had very different interpretations of that event. She spoke as though she was without fault in all of this- that Byleth's mother made the ultimate sacrifice to keep him alive, and Rhea simply abided her wishes.
Yet, Jeralt's account…
He said they were being watched by the church… If everything happened just as Rhea said, then why would Jeralt feel that way? On his own admission, he had become terrified of her. Jeralt had Byleth examined in secret, and one didn't do that unless given a valid reason to. If it was truly as she said, why would Jeralt go so far as to fake Byleth's death afterward? Why would such a thing be necessary? Jeralt had to have been desperate to go so far… And that was saying something. Byleth's father was not a man that could scare easily.
'Lady Rhea is in a state over the news, but I can't change what I've done. I've got to take the child and leave…'
As he watched Rhea battle with her own emotions, that anxiety that gnawed at Byleth's heart grew and grew, eventually overtaking his anger.
A 'state?' Byleth did not know what his father meant by that, but it worried him all the same.
Just what did Byleth mean to Rhea?
Thump.
The familiar sound startled Byleth. Truthfully, he did not expect to hear his chest emit that sound ever again. In a way, he was relieved that he could.
"…It took my father's death for you to tell me this?"
Byleth could hear Sothis sigh in his mind, but it was something he had to ask. His response was almost instinctual.
"I am sorry for that," Rhea murmured, closing her eyes in resignation. "I did not know if it was my place to tell you these things instead of your father..."
Did not know? Did not know?! If Jeralt was as dear a friend as she suggested, then she should have realized that he wouldn't do it! If Jeralt was such an ally, she should have known his broken heart wouldn't have allowed him to even bring it up!
Thump.
Byleth mashed his teeth together out of fear that if he did not, he would say something he truly wouldn't have been able to take back. He couldn't fight the urge to question all of her statements further. He couldn't assuage the distrust he held in his heart. How could he trust anything Rhea told him anymore? It wasn't as though he could fact-check everything she said, and it wasn't as if Rhea given him a reason to.
Thump.
Given the choice, he would believe his father's words long before Rhea's. While Jeralt had kept his fair share of things hidden as well, at least he had given Byleth a reason to trust in him.
Even though he lost the love of his life, he still protected his son. With that loss weighing so heavily on him, he had taken Byleth to a doctor in secret. He had faked Byleth's death and ran. While battling with his own grief, he did all of this to protect Byleth.
Thump.
Jeralt protected him.
The baby that ended Eleanor's life; the woman he loved so dearly. The baby that could not cry, even over the loss of his mother. The lifeless child that could not show emotion. The child that others feared for his lack of humanity. The child that became a demon of ash, who killed without an ounce of remorse. The Ashen Demon that seemingly lacked morality.
Despite all of that, despite all of the pain Byleth had inadvertently caused his father, Jeralt's first instinct had been to protect him. From the beginning until the very end, he had protected Byleth. Jeralt… had always been there. Always, until the very end.
Thump.
Jeralt protected him.
Thump.
And Rhea had not.
Thump.
"I understand now."
"You…" Rhea lifted her head, her eyes widening slightly. "You do?"
"I do." Byleth nodded. It wasn't a lie. "I understand it clearly."
Rhea smiled, looking relieved to hear that.
The doors to the archbishop's chambers opened. Both turned their heads towards the sound.
"Sorry for the interruption, Lady Rhea," Alois announced as he entered. As he met Byleth's eyes, he nodded toward him. Turning back to Rhea, he continued. "There's something you must hear immediately; a report from the knights patrolling the area."
"I will take my leave, then." Byleth bowed once more.
"Take care, Professor. Please rest and focus on mending your heart. Understood?"
"…Yes. Farewell, archbishop."
Byleth turned to leave, but as he turned, he could see Rhea raise her clasped hands in prayer.
"May the goddess watch over you… Always."
It could have been due to the turmoil in his heart, or because of the unease of Sothis felt, but regardless, Byleth frowned. For what felt like the first time that week, Byleth found himself frowning at Rhea's ever-pious words. For some reason… he found them much more grating than he had in the past.
As he walked through the chambers, Byleth could not hear the conversation between Rhea and Alois anymore, nor could he hear the drumming sound in his ears.
Placing his hands to the great wooden doors, he pushed them open.
Byleth exited the room-
Leaving the archbishop behind.
The sky was overcast.
The next day was more of the same. Morning came and went, bleeding into the afternoon. Again, the professor had asked one of his colleagues to cover his classes. Manuela had agreed readily, just as she had before, but Byleth could see that slight catch in her eyes. That slight morsel of regret as Byleth had asked once again to stay cooped up in this room alone.
Today… Today was different, however.
Byleth stood at the windowsill, looking out to the sky above. It was not raining on this day. Though, clouds still blanketed the sky, hiding the great blue behind its veil. Byleth could see those white clouds move. They crawled across the earth's ceiling, signaling that some time soon, that blue would become visible again. It might not be today, or the next, but eventually, the clouds would disperse and the light would return.
On this day, Byleth did not look into his own reflection. He stared past the image, ignoring it completely. The tangled mess of thoughts and emotions in his chest and head did not allow for anything else to be considered. That space previously had been filled with things associated with death; sorrow, regret, anger, doubt. But, now… Byleth could not discern what he was feeling. Everything was just as confusing as it always had been.
And in that confusion, came more dormancy; more inaction.
As Sothis had advised him not so long ago, when one gets lost in all of those possibilities, they are left with none. He was so engulfed by that tangled sea of human emotion, Byleth could not act. He could hardly move. He felt… numb. Deadened. Despite how much his logical mind might try and convince him to return to the real world, he simply couldn't. His limbs wouldn't allow it.
That was another thing he could not understand. He wanted to return to them, but…
As the new day dawned, that want had diminished into a small, little voice in the back of his mind. The fears that he could not prevent their deaths just as he couldn't Jeralt's came roaring back.
So, instead of being a productive member of society, instead of returning to his job as an instructor, he simply stood at this window. Byleth stood there, waiting for the stars.
Waiting for guidance.
The door to Jeralt's office opened. Byleth could hear someone step into the room.
He did not need to turn his head to know it was.
"You're here again."
Edelgard's voice shattered the deafening silence that Byleth called his own.
Byleth rested his head against the cool glass, closing his eyes as he let out a sigh.
It was not that he did not wish to see her… Quite the opposite in fact. During these days of uncertainty, Byleth had found Edelgard's continued and stubborn presence to be a great comfort. Part of him looked forward to seeing her every day, relishing in that familiarity he found in her.
But with that comfort, came the massive amounts of guilt. Edelgard was this… great embodiment of the future. In her purple eyes, Byleth could see what could be. He could see each of those endless possibilities… For the man that was stuck in the past, seeing such light in her eyes intensified his guilt tenfold.
Though his eyes were closed, he could feel Edelgard's presence come to a stop beside him.
When he did not answer, she spoke again.
"The others are beginning to miss you," Edelgard stated. She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I am beginning to miss you."
"I'm still here, aren't I?"
Byleth cursed at himself internally. That had sounded much harsher than he had intended.
"…Are you?"
Byleth opened his eyes, glancing over at her. She was watching him closely; her brow creased in worry, her lips set in a firm line.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Edelgard turned to face him fully, folding her arms over her chest. She tilted her head slightly to the side in order to get a clearer view of his eyes.
Byleth looked away.
"You know I would never pretend to know what you're going through; only you can understand your own sadness," Edelgard began. "But I've dealt with my fair share of loss as well; I wasn't unaffected by your father's death, either. There were times where I wanted nothing more than to curl up in the corner without the will to carry on."
"Do you think that's what I'm doing?" Byleth asked, his gaze gravitating to the floor.
"I do," came the honest reply. "I believe you are waiting for time to heal your wounds."
Byleth did not have a reply to that; not because he was upset she would surmise that, or even upset that she'd dare to say it.
It was true. The fact that he knew it was annoyed him.
"Time… will not stop simply because you are still. It will not wait for your wounds to mend."
"Don't you think I know that?"
"Do you?" Edelgard challenged him.
Byleth shot her a glare, his eyes narrowing slightly. Her constant questions were starting to wear thin.
Edelgard, however, did not waver.
"You've been isolated in here for the better part of two weeks, seemingly ignorant to the fact that the rest of the world has begun to move on without you. There comes a time when you have to move forward with it, Byleth."
Her lack of hesitation in stating that fact was almost astounding. Were Byleth not angry, he might have been at a loss for words.
"Ignorant?" Byleth frowned dangerously. He turned towards Edelgard, taking a step towards her. "Is that really what you think? That I'm ignorant?!"
Edelgard did not shrink underneath his gaze or his raised voice. She stood still, posture straight as an arrow, as she stared up at him.
"Next to my father, that's all I think about," Byleth growled. "About how useless I am. How I've let you all down. How I've continued to let you down. How I might let you down in the future. Meanwhile, time continues to-"
"Then, stop."
Byleth blinked, his rage cooling as his thoughts were interrupted.
"Stop?"
"Yes. Stop." Edelgard nodded. "If that is truly what you believe, then rejoin us. Come back and be our professor. Wherever you decide to go, I will be with you."
"It's not that easy, Edelgard…" Byleth murmured, avoiding her steady gaze.
It wasn't easy. She, nor anyone else, knew the burden he carried; the burden that came with a power as great as Divine Pulse and the burden that came when it failed.
"Of course it isn't. Most things never are," Edelgard agreed. "But, the Byleth I know wouldn't concern himself with how easy something is. He would walk with me- with us. He wouldn't stand still in this room alone."
Byleth bit his bottom lip, mentally preparing himself to ask the question he dreaded hearing the answer to more than all else.
"What if I'm no longer the Byleth you know? What if I become someone… else?"
Edelgard's eyes widened. He could see something… crack inside of her. And though it was brief, he could see the fear that flashed across her eyes. He almost wished he never posed the question to begin with.
"Is…" Edelgard swallowed. "Is that what you want?"
Byleth gazed into her eyes. Though they lacked the usual strength they carried, Byleth could still see the light in those reflective, purple orbs. He could see his own reflection in them; though distorted and small. He could still see all of those possibilities he saw before. He could still see that future he longed for. While that longing had disappeared for a brief moment, overtaken by the nightmares of the past few days, it was still prevalent. It still burned in his chest, even if that flame was all but a flicker.
"No," Byleth mumbled, swiping a hand across his eyes. They were wet. "It's not."
Edelgard inched closer. Byleth raised an eyebrow as he watched her take off the glove on her right hand. She always wore those to cover the scars that marked her skin, so why would she suddenly-
The professor flinched as he felt her fingers coil around his. Her touch was delicate at first, as though she was testing the waters to see if he would turn her away, but after another second, she squeezed his hand tightly.
Byleth couldn't believe how warm her bare hand was.
"I will not offer you something as worthless as my tears, nor can I stand still here with you any longer. What has been done… cannot be undone. All you can do now is move forward."
Edelgard paused, squeezing his hand once more. Her thumb caressed his.
"Return to us, my teacher," she whispered. Though she would never outright plead for it, Byleth could hear hints of it in the tone of her voice. "Reach for my hand as you are now, and we can move forward- together."
Byleth wanted that… He wanted it so fiercely, yet…
Those memories of Edelgard's averted death at Remire Village haunted him. Of Lysithea. Of them all. He could still picture their deaths clear as day. How could he move forward, knowing full well he might be the cause of such things?
"What if I fail?" Byleth asked quietly, avoiding her radiant eyes. "What if I'm not strong enough? What if… What if I'm no longer enough?"
"'No longer enough?'" Edelgard repeated dumbly, as though the very idea was new to her. "Byleth."
What if he no longer had the ability to save them? He had already lost his father… If he lost them… He'd have nothing left. Byleth wouldn't have the will to live if one of them died, too. If Edelgard died… just the mere thought was enough to crush his spirit. If she died, he'd want to also-
"Look at me."
Byleth slowly lifted his head, his eyes inching up off the floor, up the length of her body, eventually meeting her eyes. Just as before, they were wide and unyielding. So very bright they were…
As he got lost in those eyes of hers, he was reminded of the lights suspended in the dark.
Reminded of the stars in the night sky.
"If you have lost your strength, I will be strong for you. If you fall, I will be there to pick you up again. If you are lost, I will find you," she told him, the warmth from her hand spreading up through his arm. "You will always be enough for me, my Byleth. More than enough. Don't ever doubt that."
Byleth gaped at her, his eyes blinking rapidly as no sound escaped his lips.
How could she be so certain of that? As he was now, he very well might be more of a detriment than anything else. Byleth wanted to be there for her; to be there for all of his students. He did. But… What if his presence simply caused more problems? What if he wasn't strong-
No.
Byleth closed his mouth, his gaze moving to his armor still discarded on the floor, then to Jeralt's shield that was leaning up against the wall.
Though It's weight was minuscule, he could feel that ring attached to the necklace bearing down on his chest.
All those years ago, Jeralt did not hesitate. He did not waver. He did what was needed to be done. He took Byleth and left. He protected him. That baby that caused so much turmoil was protected, regardless of Jeralt's pain.
Could Byleth truly not do the same? Could he not just put one foot in front of the next?
He did not know.
Byleth's eyes returned to hers. Edelgard was still watching him.
"El..."
As he whispered the name that so few called her, her grip instinctively tightened around his hand. Her eyes widened, relief washing over her face. Those crinkles and wrinkles in her face caused by her determination, fear, and worry, all but vanished at the sound of his voice calling her name.
Byleth still had his parents' blood flowing through his veins.
He was still an Eisner.
Though he may have forgotten it for a time, that would never change.
Byleth stood at the peak of the hill, his head tilted up to the night sky. It had stormed the night before, but the clouds had dispersed. The lights from the moon and the stars were clearly visible. If anything, they were brighter on this day, as though they were trying to make up for lost time.
"Hey, kid. Doing a little stargazing, are we?"
The twenty-one-year-old turned his head to his father. Jeralt had snuck up behind him while he wasn't paying attention.
His father smiled at him with his hands on his hips. The very same, easy-going smile Byleth had always known.
"Yes." Byleth nodded, turning his head back to the sky. "More nightmares. Couldn't sleep."
Byleth had always been prone to these dreams. Dreams of war. Dreams of death. Dreams of faces he did not recognize. Though, perhaps the most curious, were the dreams of the small girl on the throne made of stone.
"Ah, I see."
Jeralt came to stand beside him, turning his own head towards the stars.
"It's quite clear tonight," Jeralt remarked as he gazed at them.
"It is."
Byleth could feel his father glance at him, but he did not tear his gaze away from those bright lights.
"Remember when we used to do this when you were a child?"
Byleth did, so he nodded.
"I can hardly believe how much time has passed," Jeralt sighed, placing a hand to his temple. "Feels like yesterday you were hardly taller than a beansprout. Makes me feel old."
"You are old?" Byleth raised an eyebrow as he glanced at him. It wasn't supposed to be an insult; just a statement of fact.
"Ain't that the damn truth," Jeralt chuckled, shaking his head.
The father and son grew quiet as they both took in the sight. Both had tilted their heads upwards, both staring at that beautiful starry night. Byleth knew it was getting late, and he knew he should try and find sleep soon, but… He could afford to spend a few more moments with his father before retiring for the night.
Their trip to Remire Village would be a long one, but even if Byleth was slightly sleep deprived, it shouldn't matter much. It wasn't as though they had to do any fighting in the village. They were just dropping by for a visit on their way through.
"Hey, Byleth."
Jeralt was the first to break the silence.
"Yes?"
His father lifted a hand, pointing to the brightest star in the sky.
"Do you remember the story I told you behind that particular star?"
How could he not? It was one of his mother's favorites, so Byleth had made sure to commit it to memory.
"The North Star, guiding lost and weary travelers home," Byleth recalled the story his father told him.
"Ha! Well, colored me surprised," Jeralt laughed, slapping Byleth on the back. Hard. "I honestly didn't think you'd remember; as a boy, you didn't seem too interested by it."
"I still don't find it very interesting," Byleth admitted. A tale about travelers following a random star, conveniently stumbling upon a village the very next day? It wasn't a very enthralling story. "Though, I do suppose there are some practical lessons to be had."
Jeralt laughed again. The father's laugh was always so loud. It almost reminded Byleth of a lion. If he hadn't anticipated it, he probably would have jumped out of his skin.
"Well, you know what they say; like father, like son."
Jeralt clasped Byleth on the shoulder, steering him back towards their camp.
"Come on, son. We should turn in; tomorrow's a big day."
Byleth's brow rose. Was it? They were only stopping by Remire. It didn't sound like much of a hefty task.
"Very well," Byleth sighed softly. While he would have preferred to stay out here underneath the stars, he supposed he should abide his father's wishes. If those vivid dreams returned, he'd simply have to grit his teeth and bear it.
Byleth took one last look at the night.
As he turned to follow in his father's footsteps, he idly wondered when he would have the time to stargaze again.
Tomorrow, perhaps?
And there you have it! Hope you all enjoyed! Originally I was going to end this Depression Session here, but there are a few more scenes I want to cover, so it'll take another chapter. Felt too jumbled fitting it all in here.
So, there were two paths I could have taken in regard to Edelgard and Byleth and her confronting him. The first, which is what I was originally going to do, was make it very drama-filled. The original game plan was to use Jeralt's death to metaphorically rewind the clock on their relationship- have them start back at square one. Byleth would begin to question Edelgard and her plans, and Edelgard would again worry that he might not join her and believe she had lost him. I thought about doing it this way so I could keep in the impact of Byleth's choice to stand by her.
But... I'm not going to do that. This is where the author's personal preferences come into play, as I'm not HUGE on making drama like that. I'd prefer reading/writing comfort and angst instead of tension and drama. That isn't to say there won't be any drama coming soon, as it's pretty unavoidable given the story, but I don't want it to be the sharpest and most used tool in my shed if you feel me.
Instead, I'm going to fully embrace the unique path this story has taken and continue writing some new scenes we couldn't get in the game due to the way the narrative pans out. You'll see what I mean come a few more chapters, but one of the things I really want to explore is how Byleth and Edelgard's early romance, as well as the early reveal of Edelgard's plans, affect the story. I think you all will like them! I'm really looking forward to one chapter in particular, but I won't spill it just yet.
For all you drama lovers out there, I do apologize. There's nothing wrong with it, and honestly, it would have probably fit in nicely had I chosen to do it, but... It just wasn't the way I personally wanted to proceed with their relationship. Again, this one boiled down to my own preferences.
And, of course, can't end this chapter without one more Jeralt and Byleth flashback. Wasn't planning on doing that actually, but it felt like the perfect cap off to these two chapters focusing on Byleth and his isolation. Especially so given the focus I put on stars in all of these chapters.
Next chapter, we'll get to the conclusion of Byleth's inner turmoil (not totally finished with it yet), then lead into the big fight with Kronya.
Thanks for reading, everyone! As always, thank you all so much for your continued support! I'll see you next time!