The next day, Dedue enters the training grounds to see a crowd of people watching Mihail swing an arrow around him with harnessed wind. The sight of Mihail manipulating the arrow to swing around him while it stands on its feathered end brings memories back of Mihail playfully mimicking his older brother as he practiced for festivals.

For a few seconds, it feels like he's in Duscur again, and he's simply outside of The Vessyl house in Genus, the smell of salt edible in the air thanks to the nearby sea and the sound of Bryn daring Mihail or Cibor to do something foolish dancing through the air. So when Claude challenges Mihail to shoot the target without a bow, Dedue smiles as Mihail immediately takes it and whips around to face it.

The arrow hits just outside of the bullseye before the wind knocks it over.

Dedue walks into the Blue Lions classroom just in time to see people in the room circling a table, staring intensely and whispering. Curious, he looks over the crowd and sees Ingrid and Mihail staring each other down.

Mihail sighs, rubbing his temple. "Ingrid, you're injured," he says in a voice that sounds like he's said this already. "Just let me heal you-"

"I can wait for Mercedes."

"Ingrid, Mercedes is busy helping in the infirmary today. Just let me cast the damn spell."

"And how do I know that's all you'll cast?" Ingrid asks. "For all I know you could curse me-"

"Galatea," Mihail starts, pinching his nose. "Can you actually hear yourself speak right now?"

Ingrid looks like he's just said the harsher insult, face morphing into a scowl. "I am simply being cautious."

"You're being paranoid," Mihail corrects. "The professor is just going to tell me to heal you when they come in anyway."

"And you can heal me while they watch," Ingrid declares. "Wouldn't it be great for them to double check your technique?"

The room is silent for a few moments, everyone watching Mihail's face contort into a sneer for a moment before he forces a passive smile. "You're foolish. Remember this the next time you get hit with a lance to the gut."

He turns away and the crowd around them scatters, people turning away and grabbing the nearest items near them. Dedue makes eye contact with him and sees the anger and tiredness in them.

Sadly, Ingrid also makes eye contact with Dedue, and waves him over. "Dedoo! Can you tell him to stop being so antagonistic!"

Dedue feels his mind go blank for a split second, but manages to keep his wits about him. "Mihail," he says, "anima non est digna tui tempore." (Mihail, this fool is not worthy of your time.)

"Destiti." Mihail pulls out some parchment and a tome and starts writing down notes. Ingrid looks satisfied. (I will stop.)

Byleth walks in the door, and Ingrid raises her hand. "Professor? May I go to the infirmary? I'm injured."

Byleth looks at her. Then at Mihail. Then back at her. "Why didn't you ask Mihail to heal you?" they ask. Ingrid goes red. Mihail is still looking down at his notes, but Dedue could still see his smile.

Dedue shivers at the sight of that smile, knowing that its the smile of a Vessyl scorned. Dedue almost feels sorry for Ingrid, but it's just a classroom issue. The worst thing that Mihail could do was maybe have Ingrid miss a seminar she wanted to go to.

During lunch, Dedue sits next to Mihail and across the table from Claude. Although he doesn't know it yet, this seat puts him in the best possible spot to see their casual conversation suddenly crash into a halt as soon as Linhardt takes the seat next to Claude and places a folder on the table.

"-so anyway," Mihail continues to say as he reaches for the folder, "that's how you have to balance the arrow."

"Interesting," Claude remarks, also reaching for the folder. Their hands collide, and Dedue watches the two look at each other in surprise for a brief moment. Claude chuckles. "So this is interesting."

Mihail smiles, and it's a polite one that doesn't fully enter his eyes. "Isn't it? I didn't know that Linhardt was doing a favor for you."

"Neither did I," Claude admits. Dedue looks back at the folder to see that both of their hands are still on it, fingers barely touching. "What was your favor about?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me," Mihail says, and Dedue can easily spot the challenge in his smirk as he says it.

Claude looks like he's thinking for a few moments, an easy smile plastered on his face that doesn't fully go up to his eyes. "Alright," he answers with a smirk, "I asked Linhardt to look up records for all four Crests of the Saints."

"Hm," Mihail hums, nodding his head. His thumb taps the folder as he reaches further. "That's interesting. I asked Linhardt to look up the history of Almyra's royal family."

"Oh, that is very interesting," Claude says in an even tone. "Mind if I ask why?"

"I just wanted to read up on Almyra before I sent a letter in regards to diplomacy," Mihail explains. "Some of the church records seem incomplete, so I asked Linhardt to try and fill in the gaps for me."

Claude looks fascinated, but he still doesn't take his hand off of the folder, or even move his fingers out from under Mihail's. "That's nice."

"Thank you. But now I feel like I have to ask you why you were looking up records of the Saints. Is the church's collection not enough?"

"Well, I just wanted to double check the monastery's information with whatever Linhardt could find," Claude reveals, leaning forward. "Is that such a bad thing to want to cross-reference things?"

Mihail leans forward too, resting his elbow on the table. "It's not, but I just want to know why you think this folder is for you." Both of them still have a hand on the folder. On a whim, Dedue drops a fork on the ground to see if that breaks the spell.

Neither of them react.

"Well," Claude starts, "I asked Linhardt to do this yesterday afternoon in the library."

"Funny," Mihail remarks. "I asked Linhardt to do this yesterday afternoon just before they went into the library. So they could've done either one."

"They could've," Claude agrees, nodding his head. "I think they've done mine though."

Mihail smirked, silently pulling the folder closer to him, Claude's hand still on it, under his. Dedue glances between both of them to see if either one looks uncomfortable. "Careful, Claude. Some people are very confident before they're completely wrong."

"Luckily," Claude says, twisting his hand upwards to grab Mihail's wrist. "I'm not wrong."

As soon Dedue blinks, the folder is open and the two teens are looking at the piece of paper inside of it. There is a long silence as their eyes scan the page, greedily drinking in all the information.

Claude breaks the silence. "They wrote both of them on here."

"I was about to tell you," Linhardt grumbles, lifting their head, "but I was very tired."

The next time that the entire Blue Lions house meets again, it's to hear Byleth outline the plan of protecting the Holy Mausoleum. It makes sense now that Dedue thinks about it, a note about an assassination plot so obviously placed on a powerful figure is very suspicious.

"Alright, what's the layout?" Mihail asks.

Byleth pauses for a bit when they glance at him, but then they shrug. "We don't know. The mausoleum is closed to everyone except the archbishop. This meeting is to make sure that no one has any qualms about who they are grouped with."

Dimitri raises his hand. "Excuse me, Professor. I do not wish to insult your skills, but I do have some qualms about leaving Mihail to guard the entrance."

Byleth's head tilts, eyes moving to glance at Mihail again for a moment before returning to Dimitri. "Interesting," they note, "Where do you want him to be?"

"I think it would be best if Mihail was with Dedue and I," Dimitri states in a confident tone. Mihail looks at the prince with a confused face before Dedue catches his eye and the two of them share a look of confusion.

"Explain," Byleth says, the same blank look on their face.

"Dedue and I are not used to defending against magic," Dimitri says, hesitating slightly at the blank stare of the mercenary. "Mihail"-He glances at Mihail for a moment, and the quick smile that Mihail gives him seems to send enough air under Dimitri's wings to keep him talking-"Mihail is proficient in fighting with magic, and is also a notable healer. The three of us could easily defend each other from any threats."

Byleth seems to mull over Dimitri's reasoning, looking at a piece of parchment at their desk. "That can work," They say, nodding. "Good job, Dimitri. Mihail, you'll be going up the left side with him and Dedue now. Try to study more of your Reason skills this week."

Mihail simply nods. "Yes, Professor."

The next time Dedue and Mihail enter Abyss, they're met with the blade of Yuri's sword at their heads. The purple haired house leader does not look too pleased with them. "When did you tell them?"

Mihail steps out from behind Dedue. "Tell who?"

The blade points itself in between Mihail's eyes, and it takes every bone in Dedue's body to not immediate punch the fourth house leader. "Your professor." Yuri says calmly, as if he's not brandishing a weapon. There's a threat in every bit in his voice, and Dedue has the urge to see if he can make the ground swallow him up before he could harm Mihail. "When did you tell them about Abyss."

"I never told anyone about Abyss except the people who you have seen me with, Yuri." Mihail states, looking back at the man as if the sword doesn't even exist. "If my professor ended up down here, that has nothing to do with me or mine."

There's a long silence that mingles with the tension in the air before Yuri lowers his sword. Dedue slowly and quietly lets himself breathe again. "So," Yuri says, tapping the sword on the ground, "the professor and their six students have nothing to do with you."

"Who are the six students?" Mihail asks. The woman with the black gemma shows up from a passing crowd.

"All three aboveground house leaders, a girl with pink hair and an axe, a boy with silver hair and a bow, and another boy with green hair and magic." she tells them, counting numbers off on her fingers. "Any of them sound familiar to you?"

"Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude are the house leaders. Archer is Ashe, magic is Linhardt, and the pink-haired girl is-"

"Hilda," Dedue finishes for him, having had more interactions with the girl as a vassal than Mihail would have had as a student.

Yuri laughs. "So, you do speak. Nice to know. But yeah, we met them and now they know about Abyss."

Dedue looks down the main passageway of Abyss to see if there was any sign of them. "Are they here now?"

"No," Hapi says simply. "They just left."

"Great. Don't let them know we're here." Mihail says, waving at Yuri. "It was nice talking to you, Yuri. Let the other two know I said hi."

"Sure." Yuri waves and walks away. Hapi goes to do the same, but Mihail is in his element now.

"Mane. Veni cum nos. Cupimus dicere cum te." (Wait. Come with us. We want to talk with you.)

The nine of them are in the Duscis' room, close enough to each other that they can whisper and it would be easily heard in the small space. Rius is sitting on Bryn's lap as they start braiding his hair. Cibor was sitting in between Baila and Towen, with the both of them seeming to be in an argument with each other. Dedue raises an eyebrow at Cibor and he just shakes his head. Adrista and Hapi are sitting on Adrista's bed. Mihail, sitting next to Dedue, starts the conversation. "Quis tu?" (Who are you? [(informally) Introduce yourself.])

Hapi wrinkles her nose. "Muta verbum tuum. Sed sum Hapi Fluctus Astri," She says smoothly, laughing at the look on Mihail's face. (Change your dialect. But, I am Hapi Fluctus of the stars.)

"Dicis bene," Rius notes. (You speak well.)

Hapi shrugs. "Me sum Duscis, quod cognosco," Her tone is slightly smug at the end of the sentence, and she seems to wink and have a small star fall out of her eye. The subtle show of her connection to Astrum leaves no room for argument. "Dicemus solum modum Duscis cur?" (I am Duscis, of course I know it. / Why are we only speaking in Duscis?)

"Non cupimor populum audiere nobis forte," Mihail says. Everyone thinks about it for a few moments, and then nods. (We don't want other people to overhear us.)

Hapi laughs. Then she, in slightly broken Duscis, lets them know that no one else in Abyss bothers her. And she's also out of practice.

"Alright," Adrista says, her voice letting everyone else know that there is no room for debate.

"So," Hapi says, clapping her hands together, "what is this conversation about?"

Everyone in the room turns to face Mihail. Mihail rolls his eyes. "Dedue and I are going with the rest of the Blue Lions into the Holy Mausoleum at the end of the moon."

"The Holy what?" Bryn asks, incredulous.

"Tempulus," Towen says. (Temple.)

"I know what a mausoleum is. Mostly." Bryn looks concerned, looking at Dedue over their boyfriend's shoulder. "I'm pretty sure that there was a book somewhere here that talks about it. Isn't it off limits to everyone?"

"Obviously not," Cibor says, somehow now laying upside down on the bed. "They're letting students in it."

"We're supposed to keep watch in it for a burglary," Dedue says, "The Mausoleum is only open to us this one day."

"Why aren't the Knights watching over it like they usually do?" Rius asks as he moves to the floor in front of Bryn. "Surely they have enough forces to patrol it again. The book that Bryn's talking about was a book of records thrown out. It shows up every year."

"They don't," Dedue states, giving the room a light shrug. "The Knights will be guarding the Archbishop for the entire day. The Eagles are guarding the vault, The Deer are guarding the marketplace-"

"And you all have to cover a place that you have no idea about," Baila finishes. Towen's face curls up like they've just eaten a lemon. "How are you supposed to plan for that?"

Dedue sighs. "Ask our professor."

"Your professor is a nut," Hapi says, shaking her head. "They sent that one pink-haired girl up against Balthus for practically no reason. I'd rather not."

The next morning, Sylvain looks surprised as he sits next to him. "Hey."

Dedue nods. "Hello."

Sylvain's face shows his surprise turning into confusion before settling on concern. "Is everything alright?" he asks, voice low. "You weren't in your room last night and I didn't want to give you my problems if you already have something you're going through-"

"I'm alright." Dedue says, hiding his alarm at being caught out of his room. Sylvain was probably smart enough to figure out where Abyss was if he was given an inch, and Dedue was not going to let that happen. "I was in Mihail's room."

"Oh." Sylvain looks relieved. "Is Mihail okay?"

"He's fine. It is a Duscis matter."

Sylvain smiles, and Dedue thinks he's bought the lie. "Cool. Do you mind if I stop by tonight?"

Dedue thinks about it for a moment. Sylvain has been getting better about not unloading his trauma onto him without asking, only letting smaller and smaller details accidentally slip. It's obvious whenever it happens now too, Sylvain stops speaking for a few moments and goes bright red, almost the same red as his hair- "Dedue?"

"Sorry. I should be free to talk tonight."

In the afternoon, Dedue is waiting outside of the classroom for Mihail's reason seminar to end. He's expecting their usual routine at the end of the day: Mihail comes out, Dedue meets him, and they walk to dinner together.

What he's not expecting is for the door to the classroom to be launched open violently. Or for the little girl with stark white hair who is scarily good at magic to be dragging Mihail towards the main building, a determined look on her face. Mihail is just able to tell Dedue, "Sorry-" before he disappears, gone with the small demon with white hair.

Dedue is still trying to process what he just saw when he hears laughter behind him, turning around to see Dorothea at the door of the classroom. "Lysithea is a very determined young woman," she says with a big smile.

Dedue nods. "I see."

"But Mihi will be fine," she says confidently. "He told me that you and him go to dinner after this, and now that he's going to be busy, I wonder if you'd love to escort a lady to the dining hall."

She holds out her arm, and Dedue feels compelled to take it, the two simply linking elbows, hers under his.

"Mihi?" He asks, curious about the nickname.

"Oh, it's a habit I have," Dorothea explains with a giggle. "No one's name is safe. Hubie included."

Dedue is mildly impressed that Dorothea is either charming enough to be able to call Hubert "Hubie" or confident enough that she can escape an assassination attempt. "That's an interesting habit."

"It is, isn't it?" she hums. The dining hall is almost in sight. "Hey, Dedoo, what habits do you have?"

"It's Dedue," he says on reflex, ignoring the obsidian that seems to be his heart at the moment. "Dedoo is…"

Dorothea frowns. "Oh, I'm sorry," she apologizes, and Dedue is about to accept her apology before her eyes widen. "Wait, isn't Ingrid in your house?"

The obsidian heart in him seems to drop. "Yes," he sighs, "she is."

"And she doesn't know how to pronounce your name?" Dorothea asks. Dedue knows the brick wall he's built up must have shattered, or maybe he's been quiet too long, or maybe Dorothea is just very good at reading people, but either way she gasps. "I'm going to knock some sense into her the next time I see her," she mutters, anger in her voice.

"You don't have to-"

"I will anyway Dedue, but just for you, I'll be slightly gentle." Dorothea waves a hand, and her smile is back on her face. It's so quick it reminds Dedue of Sylvain whenever he's talking about Gautier, or Mihail and Dimitri when they're having a headache and don't want anyone else to know. For a split second, Dedue wants to ask what plagues Dorothea, what goes on in the Empire.

"Thank you," he says instead as they join the line for food. "What do you want to eat?"

"Hm, I don't know." Dorothea looks like she's in deep thought for a few moments before shrugging. "Surprise me, Duei."

Dedue chuckles. "Duei?"

"Deddie is boring," Dorothea says simply, as if it made all the sense in the world. "Besides, Duei sounds a lot cooler than Hubie."

"Please do not let Hubert hear that."

The two are silent for a few moments before they can't hold in their laughter.

Sylvain sneaks in that night. Dedue has a pot of tea steeping, with two mugs already set aside for later. No words are said as the redhead takes his seat at the desk. Dedue rolls his eyes before he grabs his second chair and sits down next to him. Dedue can't help but notice the fist that Sylvain's hand is making around a piece of parchment. "Is everything okay?"

"I got a letter a few days ago," Sylvain says, placing the piece of parchment on the desk. "Miklan ran from Gautier territory, heading south."

"And this concerns you. Why?"

Sylvain just sighs. "He got angry at my dad. So, he ran off. The last thing a servant heard as he rode off the premises was threats towards me."

The difference in supposed anger and action doesn't make sense in Dedue's mind. "If he's angry with your dad, why would he travel all this way to harm you?"

"It's a routine," Sylvain says, and Dedue feels like every scrap of information he had been able to get out of the man is finally about to come together. "Neither of us like Crests. So, I was 5 one day and we had an idea. Maybe a Crest can be used up."

Dedue gives the noble a look. "I do not think that's how it works."

"You're right," Sylvain mutters, throwing out a shallow sounding laugh on a thin shale slate of a emotionless expression. "So, Miklan thought it would be better if he tried to remove it from me. That was the first time I was in the well."

The room seems to still. Dedue really has to fight to keep his face even, as anger and horror threaten to either choke him or force him to speak out of turn. A few moments pass before he's able swallow it down and take a breath. "So," he starts, praying to the wind that his voice sounds even, "You were in a well at 5. In the freezing cold weather. Because of your brother."

"I mean, I should have fought him off-"

"Sylvain. You were 5."

"But"-Sylvain stops talking, eyes glassed over. Dedue doesn't say anything. Sylvain seems like he is currently trying to get a carriage out of the mud without giving the wheels stable ground, wood and dirt just spinning everywhere as he works to justify his brother's actions like he's done before-"But I had a Crest. I had more power than him."

And there's the problem with the first of Faerghus' cornerstones. "Sylvain," Dedue says with an authoritative and gentle tone that he's picked up from Adrista, waiting for the redhead to face him. He makes sure to hold direct eye contact. "Do you remember the last time we sparred?"

The glassed-over look fades a bit. "What? Yeah."

"Your lance didn't touch me once. Even when you hit, you didn't do any notable damage." Dedue waves a hand and causes a few rocks to jump into his hand. "Even when you were using your Crest, you couldn't harm me. I don't have a Crest."

Sylvain doesn't speak for a minute, and Dedue assumes he's processing the thought. The glass in his eyes doesn't fully shatter, but there are cracks in it. The thin shale that Sylvain has built this tower in seems to start slowly crumbling.

Sylvain slowly stood up. "Yeah, I think I get it," he mutters, and Dedue is somewhat concerned about the lack of a cheerful facade. "Um. I'm sorry if I was a jerk earlier. At any time."

Dedue just nods, not sure what he's doing now. Adrista or Rius would be far better at this, but all he can do right now try his best to channel Adrista's comforting, yet stubborn presence and Rius' strong form of mostly objective logic. "I accept your apology," he says with a small smile, glad that at Sylvain at least actively decided to try something.

Sylvain puts a small smile on his face and waves. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Are you alright walking back to your room?"

"I'm fine. I think I've never been better. Thanks, Dedue."

After Sylvain leaves, Dedue grabs his things and prepares for another trip to the sauna. At this rate, the stress from Faerghus and its issues would get him before any of its more openly hateful citizens could.

As Dedue fights with Mihail and Dimitri in the Holy Mausoleum, Dedue can't help but notice how the others battle, the actions that they take that helps them slowly make their way up the wide aisle. Dimitri fights like he always does: explosively, with powerful strikes that serve a purpose and leave a message, and although it's brutal, there's a small touch of care, a little bit of humanity that aims to incapacitate and not kill. Mihail fights like he dances: light steps and quick hands sending out gusts of wind and waves of a darker, more powerful magic that doesn't seem to be deadly at first, but part of the fighting for Mihail is to have his enemies underestimate him first.

Dedue quickly pulls up a stone plate before an axe bites into it, the wielder angrily yanking it out. As if it was planned, Dimitri throws a javelin at the same time Mihail launches a wind spell, the two both hitting the fighter at the same time and knocking him out. In a flash, a light gust of wind brings the javelin back into the prince's hands, the two share a nod, and Dedue falls back behind them as he sees a mage coming towards him, a dark miasma angrily writhing in their hands.

Soon, the three find themselves in front of the leader of the thieves in the mausoleum. Mihail and the mage get into a duel of magic, lights and shadows flying between them as spells fly between the two. Dimitri runs in to try and stab the mage, but gets thrown back by a beam of light.

Dedue sneaks in from the side, whispering to Mihail. "Operi me." (Cover me.)

Mihail launches an even more powerful spell as Dedue takes a step back, trying to distract the mage from the flank. Dedue can see the mage working hard to resist the spell, and he quickly rushes forward. As he nears, he sees the mage manage to throw off the effects, and a hand comes up to face him, filling with magical energy. Dedue still runs forward, preparing to strike with his gauntlets.

There's a loud whistle, and with a strong gust from the right, the mage's arm moves, a pushing force causing the spell to shoot away from him into the air. The wind throws Dedue forward, and the sound of a crack rings through the mausoleum as his fist connects with the mask, laying the mage out. Byleth approaches and nods at the three students before stepping in front of them as the mage frantically fishes out a strange sword, blood seeping into the white fabric of the collarbone.

The weird, bony sword breaking through the mage's shield is one of the most violent and definitive ends to a fight that Dedue thinks he's ever seen.