12th Day of the Great Tree Moon, year 1181
Sylvestre watched his son seclude himself in the Gautier Estate's greenhouse, slumping on the floor. He had been this way since his friends and him had returned home. There was rarely a word spoken from his son's mouth and he had barely eaten since he had come back. It was troublesome to say the least. However he was reacting the way that Sylvestre had feared he would.
Ever since that letter had been sent to him, the one in regards to Byleth Eisner and his son's courtship, he was equally happy for his son for taking responsibility for himself and becoming more committed to a partner and cautious should the relationship turn sour. However, Byleth's disappearance was something that none of the students nor Sylvestre could ever see coming.
Sylvain was in complete disarray, consumed from the grief and heartbreak of losing her. His hair disheveled and his face covered in stubble that he had not shaved in days. His outfits consisted of a loose tunic and breeches, foregoing shoes and carrying himself as if he was nothing more than a street rat. He would only respond to 'yes or no' questions, or at least reply to a question with only a word. In times where he felt as though he wasn't being watched, he sobbed into his arms quietly speaking out Byleth's name and questioning why she was gone.
Sylvestre knew that time would eventually heal him, but he couldn't help but feel guilty for not doing more for his only surviving child, to help him through this terrible time. Which is why when he saw Sylvain here, he felt it was necessary for himself to step up and become the father that Sylvain needed.
"It is beautiful here," Sylvestre spoke, kneeling down next to Sylvain, "Your mother's skill in horticulture is unmatched. It's no wonder she spends the majority of her time in this room."
Sylvain didn't respond, he just continued to stare at the floor. Sylvestre could see the stray tears fall from his face onto the tile.
His heart twisted in pain for Sylvain. "Sylvain, I have never been as good at words as your mother and yourself are. But know that I...I am so sorry, son. I have been a terrible father to you and your late brother. I blinded myself to all of your pain and sorrow only for the future of our house. And in doing so, I believe I have done little to nothing to help heal you now."
Sylvain closed his eyes, "Yeah…"
Sylvestre sighed, "I don't believe I understand your situation fully, but I know that I have come close to it."
Sylvain snorted, "In what way?"
Sylvestre noted that Sylvain was starting to speak, so he continued, "The day of your birth, to be honest. Florianne had always struggled with her health, and her pregnancies were no different. However, once you were born, she fell so incredibly ill. For weeks, I woke up as if Florianne was going to die that day. She was just getting weaker and weaker, and I feared a world without her in it. One where I would have to bear the burden of raising our sons by myself. So I prayed, I prayed every night that I would be a better person, a better father as long as Florianne would live. And finally after many nights and days of fearing the worst, she awakened and returned back to me...but I suppose the Goddess wasn't too keen on me going back on my word."
Sylvestre rubbed his son's back, a display of familial affection he wasn't used to, "Sylvain, I want to be able to help you, in whatever way I can."
Sylvain slumped forward, "I wish she would come back."
"I can't bring her back, my son. I would if I had the power to. Only to see you happy. However, there might be a way I can help with that." Sylvestre stated. His son finally looked at him curiously.
"How?" Sylvain asked.
"I have a subsect of spies you can use to your disposal. After all, your friends said that they couldn't find Byleth Eisner, not that she was dead. If anything she may have been captured by the Empire or imprisoned somewhere else. If she's still alive, we can try to find her." Sylvestre affirmed.
Sylvain's eyes lit up, despite his tears. He quickly rubbed his eyes clean and looked at his father incredulously, "You...you would do that? Why?"
Sylvestre smiled, "You are my son, and I love you. Seeing you like this Sylvain is heart wrenching. And with the Empire quickly turning its eyes to the Kingdom, I need you here to assist in guarding the territory, but only when you are ready."
Sylvain nodded his head, letting a soft grin grace his face, the first one in a long time, "Thank you father."
Sylvestre got up, looking down on him, "Don't force yourself, Sylvain. Come back when the time is right."
19th Day of the Great Tree Moon, year 1181
Sylvain's scream alarmed Florianne as she raced down the corridors of the estate to her son's room. She leaned her ear next to his door, she could hear her son's muffled cries through it. She quickly unlocked the door that she knew he kept barred shut to keep anyone from coming in. She turned the knob and stormed through his room, scaring him to the point he leapt from his bed and unsheathing a dagger and pointing it at her.
Florianne looked at him with sympathy, placing the candlestick she held in her hand on his nightstand. She moved towards him, seeing his sweat glistening his skin and his heavy breathing. She brushed his hair back, "My, oh my Sylvain. My dear sweet boy." She grabbed his hand and pulled him to sit next to her on the bed. Sylvain did so numbly, not looking over to her gaze.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Florianne asked tentatively.
Sylvain shook his head, "No...I don't"'
Florianne grabbed her handkerchief and patted it on Sylvain's forehead as she allowed him to calm down, "This almost reminds me when you were a child. You'd come rushing into my room and I would cradle you in my arms until you would stop crying." Florianne kissed her son's cheek lovingly, "But you're too old for me to hold you in my arms, you don't need your mother to scare your demons away." They were silent for a moment. Sylvain was still looking away from Florianne as she held one of his hands, rubbing it with her own to give some warmth to them.
He stuttered out, finally filling the void, "I could have been there, you know. I could have been the one to be with her so she wouldn't be missing now, mother."
"But would she have allowed the safety of the other students to be sacrificed for her own selfish reasons? She didn't strike me as that kind of woman when I spoke to her. She gave you that responsibility for a reason, my dear. I have no doubt that you two loved each other very much, but you shouldn't feel guilt for not being there for her." Florianne leaned her head on his shoulder, "Do you really think she'd want you to be throwing yourself into despair?"
Sylvain clenched his eyes shut, feeling his tears falling again, "...No, she'd say I was being foolish...and she would scold me endlessly, heh…" Sylvain sniffled, choking out a sob, "Oh, mother...I miss her so much...and I...I don't know how to carry on."
Florianne rubbed his tears away, "You need to let out all of your grief, let it all out. It does no good to keep these terrible thoughts in your head."
Sylvain sobbed uncontrollably, dropping his head into his mother's lap, grabbing onto her skirts like he did as a small boy, "Mother...Byleth, I'm sorry…" His tears soaked through her dress as her own tears began to fall.
"Don't be sorry, my little Sylvain. I will always be here for you, even as the world falls apart around us." She comforted him. His cries were reverberating up to her own chest.
She brushed the hair out of his face, and began to sing a soft lullaby from his youth that she hoped would calm and soothe him.
"La la lu, La la lu
Oh, my little star sweeper
I'll sweep the stardust for you
La la lu, La la lu
Little soft fluffy sleeper
Here comes a pink cloud for you
La la lu, La la lu
Little wandering angel
Fold up your wings, close your eyes
La la lu, La la lu
And may love be your keeper
La la lu, La la lu, La la lu
La la lu, La la lu
Oh, my little star sweeper
I'll sweep the stardust for you
La la lu, La la lu
Little soft fluffy sleeper
Here comes a pink cloud for you
La la lu, La la lu
Little wandering angel
Fold up your wings, close your eyes
La la lu, La la lu
And may love be your keeper
La la lu, La la lu, La la lu"
As she finished the song in earnest, she saw that her son had finally given into his slumber, sleeping steadily in her lap. She sadly smiled, pulling him carefully off of her, and laying him back down onto his bed. She grabbed an extra set of blankets and tenderly wrapped his body, tucking him in. She kissed his forehead goodnight and grabbed the candlestick she brought in with her as she left his room.
14th Day of the Garland Moon, year 1181
"And what of the Fradalrius troops? Should we meet up with them at the Itha plains, milord?" A soldier asked Margrave Gautier. They had been preparing their defenses since half of Faerghus was in a state of almost Civil War. Since the news of the young Prince, Dimitri Blaiddyd's death had been rung out and Cornelia insurrecting herself as the leader of the Faerghus Dukedom, many of the lesser houses had sided with the Empire. However Sylvestre wasn't going to spit on his friend's memory and resign himself to the Empire.
Dimitri's death didn't help much in regards to Sylvestre's own son, who looked at Dimitri as one of his own kin. He remembered his son being shut away once again, after so much effort had been made with him and his heartbroken sorrow for his love. It wasn't until Ingrid Galatea visited that the door was finally opened and they spoke at length of their shared grief and their hope for the future. He was ever so thankful to the young girl, noting that she had grown and matured since her last visit to the Estate.
"Yes but ensure that we have some spare guardsmen to protect the Gautier territory to the north. Although the Sreng people have not dared to take advantage of our weakened defenses, I'm sure that if they are to unite and attack, the territory will fall." The Margrave ordered.
"Of course, Ser." The troop leader responded, saluting the older Gautier.
"Any word from the spies in the Alliance and Empire?" Margrave Gautier asked.
"We have reports of troop movements swooping into Faerghus from the northeast. As for the Alliance, they have reportedly fallen into disarray and there are rumors that the Duke von Riegen has unfortunately passed away." The Spymaster answered.
"Any sign of the Enlightened One?" Margrave Gautier questioned. The code word of Byleth Eisner was decided upon by Florianne who so happened upon one of their meetings earlier in the week, and the name, while grand, seemed fitting for one blessed by the Goddess.
"No sign of her sir. If it gives you comfort, the Knights of Seiros have been looking for her as well as Rhea." The Spymaster concluded.
"Very well then," Sylvestre nodded, looking back to his map on his desk, "In that case we will need to fortify ourselves along the border of Fhirdiad as well, we can't have Cornelia's forces infiltrate into the rebellion's territory. We will conduct a defensive war, it'll be easier on our lesser houses who can't fund as much to the fighting. In any event, let's start from there and then we can...Sylvain?" Sylvestre looked up to see his son, clean shaven and wearing his teal tunic and burgundy breeches. His hair looked better, as if he had finally decided to take care of his appearance. The soldiers looked shocked, they had heard about Sylvain's depression and were unsure they would ever see the young lord ever again. But here he was and despite the fact that Sylvain's eyes were still carrying dark circles underneath them, he looked relatively okay.
"Hello Father," Sylvain said, his voice returning to his normal tone. He walked past the troops as they spoke their words of gratitude and sympathy.
"Sylvain! It's good to see you again."
"You look well, I'm glad you're back."
"Good on you to show up, we were worried."
"I hope you're doing much better, My lord."
All of these were among the many things the soldiers spoke to him. Sylvain would nod and grin at them with all of their kind words ringing in his head. His countenance was cautious as was his approach, wary of whether or not this was ok. To interrupt his father's meeting with his army, he was afraid it was most unwelcomed. Sylvestre merely beamed at his son, seeing a noticeable difference in him.
"I'm...reporting for duty, Father." Sylvain said with hesitancy in his voice.
"Are you sure, Sylvain? Once you do, there's no turning back." Sylvestre asked his son, his eyes shining in concern for him.
Sylvain looked undeterred, "The Empire has taken innocent lives and they have taken away my love and Prince Dimitri. I can't just sit idly by and do nothing. I am determined to fight for my homeland and my people."
Sylvestre looked at him for a moment before smirking at his son. He was so damned stubborn, once that boy had his mind set, there was no changing it. He let out a breath and nodded at him, "Alright then, you will work under Augustus, he will evaluate you and watch over you in case you do something reckless. Is that clear?"
Sylvain let out a short laugh, "As long as that old man can keep up with me, I can do whatever that needs to be done."
Augustus, who was standing in the back of the room, snorted, "Yeah, yeah keep talking braggart. We'll see who needs to catch up on the battlefield."
"Okay son, you have your orders, make sure to grab your armor and your Lance. You will be needing them." Sylvestre directed his son.
Sylvain smirked, "Acknowledged, sir!" He spoke as he left with the rest of the Gautier troops. Sylvestre felt a sense of relief wash over him, as he finally was seeing some genuine progress from his son's mental state. He just hoped that it would keep improving.
8th Day of the Guardian Moon, year 1181
The fighting was brutal, especially in the winter and Cornelia knew it first hand. She made an interesting strategic approach by allowing her troops to invade into the north of Faerghus to attack the Gautier territory first. A seemingly terrible idea, considering her forces weren't as accustomed to the brutal winter and cold winds like the Gautier forces were. However, she made sure that another battalion of her own troops were divided up and were distracting the reinforcements that should have come in from the south from Felix's homeland.
Sylvain had been fighting at his father's side for the past few months, after proving himself in several battles. His despair turned into a need to fight for survival, and he was more than capable of following orders and commanding the troops in his own battalion to fight the Imperial Forces. After Augustus gave the okay, Sylvain was then placed as his father's second in command, getting valuable experience as the future Margrave.
However the icy cold winds of winter were even becoming too much for even those from the Gautier household. Sylvain knew something was amiss, there was no way this type of weather was normal for this part of the region. It must be something to do with magic, Sylvain thought to himself. If that were the case, surely there should be a Dark Mage causing this. It wasn't an abstract thought, Cornelia was an accomplished mage so she may have connections to some of the best conjurers known to Fodlan.
"Father, this weather seems to be caused by magic. I can sense it." Sylvain shouted above the sounds of fighting and the gusts of wind.
"Is that so? That would explain a lot! Do you think you can see the mage in charge of this?" Sylvestre asked his son.
"I can find them out! Just lend me a few men, and we can take the enemy out. After that, we will surely have the upper hand." Sylvain spoke, raising the Lance of Ruin and readying it.
"You have my permission: Go take that mage out, and return back as soon as you do." Sylvestre commanded.
"Yes, Father, I shall." Sylvain charged forward, through the freezing air as it's cold burn harmed his face. Through the snow and ice, Sylvain could see the mage with his hands brewing up the blizzard. Sylvain grunted, and kicked his horse into gear, galloping to the man with blinding speed. The mage at the last second, knocked Sylvain off of his steed, as he landed with a thud into a snowbank. Sylvain quickly got up, spinning his lance and then chasing to the mage once again, blocking his attacks with grace and agility. Once he was able to get the mage to stumble, Sylvain pierced the man with his lance through the heart. The mage snickered, blood trickling out of his mouth and decorating the snow around him.
"You did well, Sylvain Gautier, it's such a shame that you would leave your own father defenseless." the mage sputtered out.
"What? That's a lie! I wouldn't do that! What are you scheming?!" Sylvain yelled. It was no use, the mage had died and with him, so did the snowstorm. Sylvain ran back to mount onto his horse, panicking that his father was in some immediate danger. His horse trotted through the snow and finally made his way to his father, who was fighting off the last bit of Imperial soldiers around him.
"Father! You're okay." Sylvain exclaimed, grinning wildly.
"Of course I am, Sylvain. The majority of the army is moving south, they're retreating! You did well." Sylvestre commended Sylvain.
Sylvain nodded appreciatively, "Thank you, shall I give the command to charge forward and capture as many prisoners as possible?"
Sylvestre smirked, "Yes and be sure to- SYLVAIN! WATCH OUT!" Sylvestre moved his own horse in front of Sylvain and took the full brunt of a surprise assault on Sylvain deeply injuring his weapon hand.
"FATHER!" Sylvain shouted as his father fell to the ground as his horse ran off. Sylvain quickly apprehended the assassin using every ounce of reason magic to burn the assailant down to an ashy mess, melting the ice and snow with him. As soon as the man was taken down Sylvain moved quickly to dismount his horse when Augustus stopped him.
"Sylvain! You need to order the rest of the troops! Allow me to take care of your father." Augustus barked at him.
Sylvain shook his head violently, "I will not let my father die! I have to help him."
"And your men need to see a Gautier charging forward to inspire them and to help them. Your father needs you to." Augustus pressed.
"I...I can't…I'm not meant for this." Sylvain said pathetically
"Sylvain Gautier! You are more than capable of doing so! I've seen you on a field like this before and you take to command like a veteran. I know you hate to hear it, but it's in your blood. You are a Gautier! You can do this!" Augustus said convincingly.
"Dammit Augustus, I hope you're right." Sylvain muttered, as he steered his horse into the fray. He felt his heart racing, he didn't know he could do this, but he had to try. Whenever he was in doubt, he'd think of his Academy days, he'd think of Byleth. He'd think of the ways she would rally her students and develop their morales.
He could feel his tears start to fall as he sent a plea out into the sky, "Byleth...even if you're alive and can't hear me speak, please guide me. Let my words reach you…"
He charged in front of the Gautier Knights and to the best of his abilities he tried to raise their spirits by giving a speech, "My brothers in arms! My father is indisposed at the moment, so I will be leading you all! These Imperial Dastards, who killed our Prince and seek to take everything we love and cherish will not go down without a fight! But I know one thing for certain, and that is they can never take our rights as the proud Faerghus people! They will never take our homes! They will never take our beliefs! And they will never take our freedom! I refuse to bow down to a false Emperor of a land that will never be controlled by her imperialist beliefs. Who shall join me, Sylvain Jose Gautier, to drive the Empire out of Faerghus?!" The knights cheered loudly, raising their weapons into the air.
Sylvain's confidence grew, "Who will triumph? Who will fight for all of Faerghus?"
The knights shouted, "We will! We will protect Faerghus with our lives!"
"Then let's make this day a victory, and afterwards all drinks are on me!" Sylvain's horse reared on its hind legs, as Sylvain rose his lance towards the sky. It's Crest Stone glimmering brightly, as if it were the last flame in the night. As Sylvain led his forces to their inevitable win, it was said that the fire inside Sylvain never shone brighter than in the past few months. Some said it was the Goddess' will that Sylvain was able to overcome all of his despair, but most said it was his love for the woman that inspired him to achieve the impossible. From that day on, Sylvain was remembered as the man who reemerged from his own ashes to be reborn from a philandering boy to a commanding man, who valued the lives of under him. The Phoenix of Faerghus was born...
15th Day of the Blue Sea Moon, year 1183
It had been two years since Sylvain became the Commander of the Gautier Knights. His father had recovered from his injuries, but unfortunately, Sylvestre's weapon arm was no more. It had become severely infected, possibly due to some type of spell. In the end there was nothing that the healers and doctors could do, so they were left to amputate the arm. Sylvestre didn't mind, but he worried for his son, afraid that he wouldn't be able to handle the pressure that being in charge of an army in the middle of the war would bring. However, with some helpful guidance from himself and Augustus, Sylvain adjusted to his role as leader just fine. His lighthearted nature and carefree disposition really allowed the Gautier Knights to warm up to him quickly. And he was rather intelligent on the field, as his love of tactical games and studies allowed him to see a battlefield and be able to read his opponents like a book.
While he received a rather glorified nickname, Sylvain never truly took to it. He found it a bit on the nose, and a little corny to say the least. Sylvain would snort and snicker at it being used as a way to formally address him, feeling rather uncomfortable that he was among the most talked about Faerghus Loyalists. In his efforts to make sure his home didn't fall into enemy hands, he became highly depended on. It surely didn't make him feel well, but he supposed there was some good he was doing as the acting Commander.
"Sir, there's a man here to see you. He's a rather mysterious fellow, wouldn't speak much about where he came from." A courier stated, speaking to Sylvain in the War Room that was once the Office of Sylvestre Gautier.
"Oh good, I look forward to meeting mysterious men in the midst of warfare," Sylvain replied sarcastically, his now longer hair being brushed through with his fingertips, "Did you make an observation on what he looked like or what he said? I'm not about to entertain the idea of bringing a stranger into my home."
"All I know is he's a man that has a tanner complexion, and talks like a schemer. He said something about arriving on a wyvern from the South, perhaps from the Leicester Alliance."
"Hehe, so it's Claude then," Sylvain chuckled to himself, of course he wouldn't want anyone to know he was visiting the opposing Faerghus forces. He had his own messes to clean up in the Alliance.
"Sir? Would you like me to tell him off?" The courier asked.
Sylvain cleared his throat, moving to clap the young man on his shoulder with his armored hand, "Nevermind that, I'll go greet our guest myself, do keep me informed should another mysterious figure comes through my door." Sylvain pauses as he steps in the hallway looking back at the courier, "Any news on the 'Enlightened One'?" He asks the courier.
The courier stuttered, "Uh n-no Commander Gautier."
Sylvain sighed, clenching his eyes shut. It had been years, but the wound has never truly healed. Looking down his neck, he sees the tiny ring strapped around a steel chain. He raises it slowly to his lips and kisses it tenderly. He steadies himself and gives the young man a false smile, "Ah I see, well keep up the good work then."
He turns back to head towards the Grand Foyer to see a hooded man at the entrance of his home, smirking as he could tell even from a slight glance that he was looking upon the new Leader of the Alliance.
"Well now, this is an unexpected pleasure. I didn't think you'd come to visit. Afterall, aren't all, isn't the Alliance feuding with itself at this time." Sylvain said cheekily.
"My friend, why wouldn't I want to visit? I've heard Faerghus is beautiful this time of year." Claude replied, taking off his hood to show his own cheesy smile.
"Really? Is that why I'm receiving a lot of tourists from The Adrestian Empire?" Sylvain retorted back.
Claude laughed, "Well now, it's good to see you're doing better Sylvain. I had heard that for a time you weren't doing so well."
Sylvain rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, I'm just taking it one day at a time."
Claude nodded, grasping his shoulder, "I'm glad for you. I know it couldn't have been easy to overcome."
Sylvain shook his head, "Let's not think about that for now. You came to visit, so that must mean you want something? I can't support you in resources, however if you need to bolster your forces or need my men to guard the border between us and the Alliance, you may have my aid."
Claude chuckled, "Oh no, Sylvain, it's not me that's needing help. Rather I decided to gift you with something. Follow me outside."
"Uh okay then," Sylvain replied sheepishly as he followed Claude out into the fields nearby his home. As they were reaching a small clearing nearby, he heard the screeching of a Wyvern. Or was it two? He wasn't sure. Claude kept snickering to himself as he'd look back to see Sylvain's face of confusion. He cleared some branches out of the way as Sylvain looked into the forest to see a grand sight of two oddly colored Wyverns. One a pure white, with yellow beady eyes, while the other was larger and sported black scales with dark crimson wings. It's eyes were menacing red and its fangs exceedingly large.
"Isn't she a beauty? She is quite the handful though, so it may take some time to tame her and get used to you." Claude looked at Sylvain, with a mischievous look in his eyes.
Sylvain's shock was glaring that was for sure, "What?! I'm a horseman, not a Wyvern Rider! Those beasts can rip a man's head off!"
"Aw, you would talk that way to my precious Fajr? She's so divine, I mean look at her white scales!" Claude teased.
"Fajr? Interesting name you've come up with." Sylvain commented.
"It's from Almyra, just like those Wyverns. And besides you can always train to become a rider." Claude stated walking forward in between the two beasts.
Sylvain cautiously followed him, careful not to intimidate the Wyverns, "You have lost your mind, Riegen! The hell do you think I could do with a Wyvern?"
"Oh stop whining, Gautier, they're not that bad." Claude scolded his friend, as he started to pet the muzzle of his own Wyvern.
"Easy for you to say, yours is acting like a little puppy. That one behind me is foaming at the mouth asking 'where's dinner'." Sylvain gave a dismissive snort, pacing back and forth all the while staring at the larger Wyvern. Her eyes investigated him, as she growled under his own gaze.
"That's because she's sizing you up." Claude said looking at his friend with a tender gaze, "Her rider recently passed away, and Wyverns are a big deal in Almyra. They're not just horses you ride into battle and sometimes replace with better ones. These beasts are loyal to their partners, and they don't just allow anyone to ride them. They pick their rider, and from there they share a bond that not many can break. This one is still a bit temperamental, she's still mourning her own rider, and I thought, hey you might have one or two things in common."
"So under the impression that I've experienced loss I somehow share a similar past with a Wyvern?" Sylvain deadpanned.
"Yes, so go on, introduce yourself to her. Put on your fake persona and flirt with her, just like the old days, she might like that." Claude winked.
Sylvain sighed, looking back at the beast. He slowly approached her with a fake facade and smile to charm the reptile, "Hey hey, how's it going? I'm Sylvain. I heard you were lonely and I just thought, it should be fate that we meet-ARRRGH!" Sylvain yelled as he was tossed across the field by the Wyvern's tail, who was seemingly not amused.
Claude busted out into hysterical laughter, "Hahahahahahahah, it seems you're out of practice, my friend!"
Sylvain growled, picking himself off up the ground and brushing himself off, "Very funny, Claude. Now can we return back to the estate?"
Claude shook his head, "Not until you can tame her. It would be rude of you to reject a gift from me."
"You're impossible, Claude." Sylvain sucked in a breath as he walked back to the Wyvern gifted by Claude. Her eyes staring him down again, and in that moment Sylvain could see the same type of pain he was feeling in this animal. She didn't seem to want to kill him, but rather she was pushing people away, afraid of getting too close to anyone else.
Sylvain looked at her earnestly, "You've lost someone you cared about, didn't you? I did too. She was everything to me, and everyday without her is like a twisting of a knife in my heart. I don't know if she's dead or alive, but I do know that every second without her is painful." The Wyvern chirried as she listened intently to Sylvain, who's tears were threatening to fall, "You, at least, have the closure of knowing your rider is gone. But I know you must miss them a lot, like I miss my love. Perhaps, with our shared pain, we can join forces, take on the skies together. So, would you let me?" Sylvain reached out a hand to the Wyvern, who in exchange, rubbed her scaly nose against his palm, purring softly.
Claude whistled lowly, "Wow, I have never seen that before. Your charm really knows no bounds Sylvain."
Sylvain chuckled sheepishly, "What do I do now?"
Claude snapped his fingers as his own Wyvern lowered herself to the ground, allowing Claude to mount her, "Well then you ride her."
Sylvain turned to him in shock, "Huh?! Claude, I've never received training at the Academy on this. How does anyone know how to ride a Wyvern?!"
Claude shrugs, "No one does, until they've ridden one."
Sylvain gave a short sigh, "Right, of course you'd say that." Turning back to the Wyvern, he continued to pet her snout, which she cooed graciously at his affection for her. "Does she have a name?"
"Hm?" Claude questioned.
"The Wyvern, does she have one?" Sylvain asked again as he scratched the underside of her jaw.
"I believe her previous rider gave her the name, Astarte." Claude answered with a bemused expression on his face.
"Astarte, that's a very divine name, don't you think?" Sylvain asked Astarte. She chirped appreciatively in response. He chuckled as he looked at Claude, who motioned him to mount the Wyvern. Sylvain glanced back to Astarte, who had lowered herself just as Claude's own Wyvern had before. He carefully climbed on top of her back, straddling himself into the saddle strapped onto her, taking note that Claude had apparently decorated it with the Crest of Gautier. As he settled himself, he looked back to Claude, who looked very pleased with himself.
"Now what?" Sylvain asked.
"Now, you need to hold onto her real tight. I wouldn't want the Phoenix of Faerghus to fall off his new steed." Claude joked.
Sylvain snorted, "Yeah, well, the Master Tactician didn't account to put a safety feature that would prevent me from doing so."
"Ugh, they really should put more thought into nickname making. Ours sound so childish." Claude shook his head. "But how to get a Wyvern to fly, just treat it as if it's a horse. Give a gentle kick and they will go. As your bond grows though, it won't be as necessary, the Wyvern will go even on a verbal command."
Sylvain nodded, "I see. Well, since you are the Leader of the Alliance, why don't you lead the way."
Claude smirked, pulling on the reins of Fajr, as she flapped her wings and launched the pair in the air. Sylvain took a deep breath, Goddess watch over me, he thought to himself. He gave a firm kick to Astarte, and in an instant they lifted from the ground and up above, following Claude into the sky. Sylvain could hardly believe what he was feeling, riding horses would never truly be the same after riding Astarte. He could touch the clouds and feel the wind brush up against his face. He wishes he could have Byleth here to experience this. To feel her arms wrapped around him and take delight of seeing the world from above.
Claude brought Fajr closer to Sylvain and Astarte, "So, not so bad, huh? I sure do know how to pick them."
Sylvain chuckled softly, "Okay, I have to admit, I'll never be able to ride a horse after this. She's a magnificent creature." Sylvain reached down to pat the Wyvern he was riding.
Claude's smile waned, looking at Sylvain with a serious face, "You know, your spies aren't the only ones looking for Teach. Mine are doing the same."
Sylvain looked at him surprised, "How did you know?"
Claude let out a short laugh, "You really think I wouldn't know about it? And besides I knew how much she meant to you. And how much you meant to her." Claude paused looking down at his own Wyvern, "I don't believe she's dead, Sylvain. Not for a moment. There's no way that the Goddess of Fodlan would just give Teach all of that power just for it to be wasted. No, I think she's out there somewhere."
Sylvain nodded solemnly, "I believe the same, even though it kills me to not know where she is."
Claude shook his head, "I'm sorry, Sylvain. I know it must be hard to talk about her."
Sylvain snorted, "It is, but I'd rather people talk about her rather than believe she's dead. I refuse to think that."
Claude raised an eyebrow to his friend, "And, for hypothetical reasons not that I think it, what if she's dead?"
Sylvain was silent for a moment, before his voice croaked out, "Then I will have to move on. But I won't ever forget her or the kindness she gave us and myself."
Claude smiled, "Good thing I feel it in my heart that she isn't."
Sylvain mirrored him, "Same, Claude."
20th Day of the Horsebow Moon, year 1185
Sylvain sat on the window sill of his bedroom, actually enjoying the peace and quiet for once. Not two days ago, he and Felix engaged in a rough skirmish in the southside of the Faerghus Loyalist territory. Had it not been for Sylvain's infamous reputation amongst the Imperial Army and Felix's quick blade and magic technique that he had been practicing, they were certainly going to lose that battle.
Sylvain was a terror on the battlefield, especially that he now terrorized the Imperial forces with the sight of his menacing Wyvern, Astarte. They now were the most feared force on the Faerghus army, along with Ingrid and Felix. While they certainly did well on the field, Sylvain's notoriety amongst his enemies and allies alike did weigh on him. He never felt special, not once in a million years. Not because he had a Crest. Not because he was Nobility. And definitely not because he commanded his father's armies. He just did what needed to be done to protect his friends and family.
But today, he took to his room for a silent reverie. He held a Sweet Bun in his hand decorated with a candle on top of it. He never forgot this date, just as he would never forget the day he lost her. However, he would always celebrate her birthday, as a way to keep him grounded. And every year, he'd write a letter of what went on while she was away as a present. Sealing the message with a wax seal, he waved it in the air to cool off the hot wax.
He conjured up a very small fire spell, setting the candle aflame. He smiled tenderly, "Happy Birthday, my love. I hope that wherever you are, you'll eventually come home." He blew out the candle and proceeded to eat the pastry. Although most people had said that Sylvain was finally over Byleth, his love never waned entirely. He just got better at hiding it, just as he would hide his emotions to the girls he would date when he was a teenager. He sat up and placed the envelope in a red velvet box on his desk, alongside four others of the same nature. That night he sent a silent prayer to the Goddess, asking for Byleth to return to this world. And as sleep finally caught up to him, he wished for a dreamless night instead of the night terrors that would plague him.
20th Day of the Ethereal Moon, 1185
Byleth felt as though her body was completely at ease, resting silently in a sphere of nothingness for miles and miles. Where was she? What was she doing here? She did not know, but she could not find the strength to bring herself to arise from her slumber. She felt the calmness of the empty void and welcomed it like an old friend. That was until she heard a familiar childish voice calling out to her.
"You… How long do you intend to sleep? Your body is awake. Your eyes must open now, and you must find the strength to stand upon those legs of yours. Like so much rain, a pool of blood has fallen to the ground… As spears and arrows pierce the earth, it weeps. And even now…it weeps. In order to survive, they kill. And so, the people of this world are lost in an abyss of suffering. They weep as well. The only one who truly knows the nature of such things is I… Or rather, you." The voice spoke.
Byleth stirred, rubbing her eyes, "Wh-Who are you?"
The voice sounded deeply offended, and scolded her, "Excuse me?! Are you saying you have forgotten who I am? How dare you!"
Byleth laid back down, "I'm still so sleepy"
The voice groaned, "You are a complete and utter fool! Have you not changed one bit?!"
Byleth covered her ears, "And you are rather annoying."
The voice scoffed, "Get on your feet. Right now! I'll coddle you no more! You are just like a child, always needing me to hold your hand…"
Just as Byleth was starting to fall back asleep, she was awakened suddenly. She felt the dampness in her clothes and the sound of a rushing stream near her. A lone figure stood in front of her, saying something, but she couldn't make out the words. And then all of a sudden the memories flood in. The battle. Garreg Mach. Rhea. Her students. Claude. Sylvain...Sylvain! Byleth lifted herself off the ground startling the man near her.
"Hey! A-are you finally awake?" The man asked.
Byleth looked at him, she didn't recognize him at all, but she did reply, "Where am I? Who are you?"
"Me? Oh, I'm just a resident here. We're in a village at the base of the monastery. What are you doing in a place like this?" The man questioned.
Byleth looked around at her surroundings, unfamiliar with this particular village as the man continued to speak, "I honestly didn't expect to find someone floating away down the river… Garreg Mach is upstream of here, but that place was abandoned."
Byleth whipped her head to face the man, deeply confused by what he said, "What do you mean?"
The man looked puzzled by her comment, "Huh? You don't know? The Church of Seiros isn't there anymore. Though there have been some folks still living there in the five years since… Well, you know. Anyway, I've heard some thieves have been spotted around those parts these days."
"Five years?" Byleth whispered to herself, no it couldn't have been that long, it only feels like a day or two, "Good man, what year is it?"
The man laughed nervously, "Um, are you feeling alright? You didn't hit your head or anything did you? It's the Ethereal Moon of the year 1185. It's been nearly five years since the monastery fell. Tomorrow was supposed to be the millennium festival, but who's got time to think about things like that?"
1185? No that can't be...Byleth felt her breath quickening, but then she realized what the man said, "The millennium festival…"
"Uh, yeah, that's what I said. But with the war and the archbishop still missing and all… I doubt there's a soul to be found who has enough blessings worth counting." The man watched as Byleth rose herself from the ground, stumbling to regain her balance and looking in the direction of the monastery, "Hey! Slow down, will ya? Where do you think you're going?"
"Where else, the monastery." Byleth answered the man.
The man stammered, "Are you crazy?! I told ya! They say thieves are running amok up there, and there's plenty of other dangers too. Come on, I promise I won't say you're a coward. Just forget about going anywhere near the monastery." He reached to grab her hand, but Byleth swatted it away.
"I will not go back with you. I can take care of myself." Byleth replied, turning away from him.
The villager groaned, "You just remember I tried to stop you, got it? It's not on my conscience if you wind up dead!"
Byleth chuckled, "You don't understand, my students are waiting for me."
The villager looked shocked, "Students? You really are crazy, aren't you? There aren't any kids anywhere near that place anymore!"
Byleth walked away from the man and rushed off to the monastery. He mumbled an 'Unbelievable' as he went back into town. He later would recount this story to a bunch of men in the pub. About a strange woman with green hair and eyes, wearing the Crest of a noble house around her neck and her determination to seek out students who no longer attended the Academy. This caught the attention of many curious men and women, including a woman bearing the Crest of Gautier's emblem on her cloak. She smiled brightly knowing that this was the best lead in years. The Enlightened One had returned from the grave...