-1170 Verdant Moon-

._._._._._.

It rained outside, but the atmosphere inside was loud and boisterous. Another job finished, and his mercenary band dragged him along to celebrate. It wasn't a hard job, but it was never easy to begin with.

Jeralt took a swig of his mead and leaned a casual arm on the bar counter. He hadn't drunk too much yet. He was expecting someone to show up sometime soon. Byleth was in the inn across the street, far from the alcohol (he was never making that mistake again) - he made sure of that. It was almost funny for his little girl to stare up at him and demand he'd be back before the morning.

They both learned the hard way that Byleth greatly disliked waking up to her father completely hung over. Jeralt never wanted to endure another day of his daughter's burning gaze - despite the lack of emotion on her face.

He laughed at a joke someone told nearby when someone plopped themselves in the next stool over.

"Give me a pint!" they hollered over the noise. The hostess easily slid one over and the traveler took a long swig. They slammed the pint back on the table, sloshing some of the mead around, and glanced at him.

"You ain't gonna believe this one bit."

Jeralt's smile dimmed a bit.

"Try me."

The traveler took another gulp and placed their elbow on the table.

"It's official - The Archbishop's announced that she finally got a child. A boy."

Jeralt looked in his nearly empty cup, "Old news, Sparrow. Months old. It was already rumored that Rhea's adopted a kid long before that announcement."

The traveler grinned, "Old new, yes - but did you hear about what they said about it?"

Jeralt said nothing as he took a swing of his drink to hide his frown. He had. He heard it from several different places.

"Hah! Okay, so - here's the gist of it: the Archbishop found this tiny baby a few weeks after the great fire- that was what - ten years, now? It's even weirder because like, the kid almost looks like her. Same pale green hair, even the eyes!"

"Sparrow."

"Uh- right, sorry. Anyway, she's been raising him ever since and now some people are speculating that he might become the next Archbishop. He's even started his training as a priest! And he's like ten."

Jeralt frowned at his empty cup and called for a refill.

"But! There's a lot of others saying that the kid won't be."

A new cup filled to the brim was handed to him, "Oh?"

"Yeah - turns out that the boy can't speak - at all."

Jeralt did his best to hide his frown with a grin as he raised his cup to the cheers of his mercenary. The deep dread in his stomach seemed to get heavier and heavier as Sparrow talked.

"He doesn't even show any emotions too. He doesn't even cry when he gets hurt or something. I haven't even met the kid yet, but from what I hear, he's a literal terror because he barely makes a sound or show emotions. Almost like—"
"—Byleth," Jeralt said. He didn't half to look at the traveler to know they were nodding.

"Yuuup," they said, popping the 'p', "I even heard that he wears a bell around his neck or something - like a cat, because he's impossible to find half the time. Imagine that - a little brat running around with a bell. It's like a target on the boy's back."

Sparrow looked at their half-full cup with a huff of laughter, "It's ridiculous because the boy's name is—"

Jeralt took a moment to drink from his cup before he cut Sparrow off.

"Beles."

Sparrow spluttered and finally turned in his stool to Jeralt, eyes wide with surprise, "Oh, come on, Jer- I gathered all this info to tell you the name and you ruin it?"

Jeralt mustered a grin as he gave Sparrow a pat on the shoulder, "and that, I'm grateful for. Thanks for confirming it for me, Sparrow."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Sparrow huffed. They waved a hand and went back to their drink. they were quiet for two seconds. "But Jeralt— I don't know why you're all interested in all this and I won't pry, but… This all seems a lil' suspicious, if not odd."

With another swig of his drink, Jeralt grunted a laugh.

"Yeah, it really seems like it, huh?"

Jeralt gave Sparrow one last pat on the shoulder before slipping out of the bar. He crossed the road in a casual pace, and headed to his daughter.

Byleth told him of the many times she dreamed of a boy with pale green hair and vibrant green eyes. He remembered the nights she startled him awake just to tell him the newest discoveries; like Beles' name, his dreams, even the games he liked.

Jeralt only had a leaking suspicion before, but now, as he climbed the stairs to the second floor, he was absolutely sure.

Byleth's Beles was very much alive and real.

He didn't know if he should be glad or downright terrified.

._._._._._._.

The dirt felt cool in Beles' hands as he scooped up a handful. It was nice against the hot summer heat. It was a little worse since he was in the greenhouse. Maybe his spot in the far corner wasn't that great of an idea. He was half tempted to smear it on his arms, but he could already hear Sothis' voice ringing in his head.

"Bel. No. Don't you dare. I will not tolerate it!" she would probably say.

Instead of giving in to his urge, he dropped the handful on a steadily growing pile beside him. Why Sothis was so intent on keeping him generally clean was beyond him.

At least, Byleth got the same treatment too. She flat out complained to him while Sothis took a nap.

"She won't let me climb trees - not that it stopped me. She scolded me for playing to rough with the other kids - it was their rules. She teases me whenever I'm training. Is it the same for you?"

Oh it was definitely the same for him alright.

He lost count how many times Sothis laughed at him when he tripped over his feet. The only mercy he got was when Seteth gave him a significantly shorter practice lance. Apparently, he hadn't been growing like Byleth. At this point she was taller by an inch.

It's not his fault his own growth spurt hadn't come yet.

"Hey, are you trying to bury a dead rat or something?"

Beles blinked.

What.

His hands froze over the deep hole he made as he turned to face the speaker.

A boy stood not too far from him. He had his hands on his hip and a confused frown on his face. His hair was as deep as midnight, but his eyes were both emerald and aquamarine.

No, wait.

One was aqua. One was emerald… mismatched eyes?

It was so unusual.

Then again, Beles was sure he himself was unusual.

"What are you doing in the corner of the greenhouse?"

Beles glanced at the bag of seeds beside his pile of dirt.

"...That... that just has seeds in it, right...?"

Beles just stared at him.

Of course, it did. Why would it not?

The boy shook his head and plopped himself next to Beles. He reached across and grabbed a handful of dirt. Beles realized what the boy was about to do. He quickly snatched the wrist to stop him.

"Hey! Ow—"

Beles immediately released the boy and sat on his heels. He didn't mean to hurt him.

The boy rubbed his wrist with an odd smile on his face.

"Wow, for a priest-in-training your grip is kinda strong," he said. He still dumped the dirt in the hole, "but seriously, if you're gonna plant something, it's gotta be shallower than burying a dead animal. Dig in too deep, then it won't get the sunlight it needs and such."

Beles watched as his deep hole wasn't so deep any more. He was confused when the boy held a hand to him palm up.

"Here, hand me the bag," the boy said, "I'll show you how to plant them."

Beles obediently handed over the bag and watched the boy shake a few out.

"See, three or four seeds should be good to drop in here," the boy explained. The said amount was dropped in and he looked at Beles.

Why was he smiling?

"Now, you bury it."

Beles looked at his hands, at the hole, the small pile of dirt, then at the boy.

"Are you gonna plant them or what?"

Beles did not scowl, and did as he was told.

With a few light taps on the buried seeds, Beles sat back and looked at the boy. There was a few seconds of silence before the boy's face dawned in realization.

"Oh! Uhhhh, after that we need to water it. I'll get the watering can!"

The boy leapt to his feet before Beles could do anything, and returned in just a matter of seconds.

Quite literally, Beles didn't know what to do when the boy held the watering can to him.

"...You gonna water it?"

Beles nodded and took the can. He poured until the boy hurriedly tipped it up.

"Not that much!"

Apparently, he nearly over watered it.

Well, at least his seeds were planted… not that he remembered what kind of plant it was. Maybe it was a flower?

Beles lowered the can and placed it at his side. They stared at each other for a long moment.

The boy suddenly made himself comfortable next to him and pulled his knees to his chest.

"You're Beles, right? The Archbishop's son?"

'Son' wasn't what he would call himself, but nevertheless, Beles nodded.

"I'm Carrol. It's spelled with two r's."

Without thinking, Beles spelled it out with his soil covered hand, "c-a-r-r-o-l", then paused.

What a weird name.

Carrol's jaw dropped before he closed it a second later. His eyes were a bit wide.

"Whoa! Was that my name? Can you do that again?"

Beles was still for a moment. His mind blanked out, but his hand moved anyway. It shook a little, and Beles was... nervous?

"Oohhh, so, that's how it's done." Carrol raised his own hand and attempted to copy Beles' signs.

Beles' eye twitched.

He didn't expect the boy to look a little sheepish. "Sorry. Let me try again."

Beles nodded his head and patiently showed him again. This time, Carrol actively practiced his own name over and over.

Those oddly mismatched eyes were filled with something Beles couldn't identify. It was similar to Hanneman when he gets impressed with Beles' magic, but at the same time - it wasn't.

"So, this is c-a-r-r-o-l!" The boy suddenly turned to him, "How about your name?"

Beles stared at him for a moment, unsure why or even where this was all coming from. Despite his uneasiness, he slowly signed his name as Carrol parroted it back.

It was so strange to see his name repeated over and over and over again.

He almost wanted to grab that hand just to make it stop.

But he didn't.

Carrol grinned now. Honestly, Beles stared at him longer than he realized.

"B-e-l-e-s… Beelleess. Caaarrrroool. Carrol, Beles!"

It was so weird to see some random kid look so oddly proud over something as simple as their own names. Beles didn't know what to name the very warm feeling in his chest. He didn't know if he liked it or not.

Carrol laughed and finally lowered his hand. He leaned forward a bit and grinned at him.

"That was pretty fun, you know? I don't know why the other kids said to steer clear of you."

Beles placed his hands on his knees, thoroughly ruining his cream trousers. He had plenty of reasons why they would. He couldn't talk to them, for one thing. It was hard to play with them because they had their own duties to attend to - well, that was their excuse. He had his own duties and studies to attend to. Training in magic wasn't an easy thing to wave aside.

But it was odd.

Why was this one kid not avoiding him?

"You know, you're kinda famous with us," Carrol said suddenly. He held up a finger, "For one, you're the literal son of the Archbishop."

There was a second finger.

"Second, you're the youngest priest-in-training to ever exist - so, yeah, some of us are a bit jealous. Ah, not me, but who cares?"

And a third finger.

"Three - you're so quiet that you're probably an empty husk!"

Beles almost scowled.

Almost.

Carrol had the nerve to laugh a little nervously, "Sorry, it's what all the other squires told me, but - I don't believe them, now that I've seen you."

He suddenly stood up and grabbed Beles' arms.

Beles was absolutely not ready when the boy pulled him to his feet. He noted that Carrol was taller than him.

Now, that was unfair.

"You're actually one of the most liveliest people I've ever met in my life."

Beles suddenly wished that Sothis was here. He didn't know what to do or how to act - he just kind of stared at the other boy in utter loss.

Carrol released him from his grip and took a few steps back, carefully stepping over Beles' new plant.

"I'm actually new here - so, I know my fair share of being the odd one out." He held out a hand with a smile. Those mismatched eyes shined as genuine as Alois'.

"Maybe you and I can be friends?"

Beles stared at the hand, then back to those eyes. His vision seemed to blur and he raised his hand to rub at it.

Carrol grabbed his wrist before it could touch his eyes, "Hey - no! Don't wipe your face like that! You'll get dirt in your eye."

Beles blinked and some of that blurriness cleared up. What he did not expect was Carrol gaping at him.

"Are you—"

Without thinking, Beles yanked his wrists away and turned on his heel. He didn't dare to pause as he took one, two, three steps before he ran.

"Wha—! Beles, wait!"

Beles did not wait. He didn't stop when he left the greenhouse. He didn't stop when he reached the training hall. He didn't stop when he passed the audience chamber. He only stopped when he stumbled into his room with the door flying open.

The while owl sitting at his windowsill was startled. She fluttered her wings and hooted at him. It was almost as if she was more concerned than shocked to see him. Beles slammed his door shut and leaned against it.

He didn't realize that his breaths came in ragged gulps and his chest heaved up and down. He was just aware of his white owl fluttering over to him. She hadn't grown too much, maybe twice her since he first found her. He hadn't even named her, and yet she stayed intently at his side.

Beles slid to the floor and pressed a hand to his chest. Quiet literally, his mind was in a whirlwind of confusion.

Friends?

Some random kid he just met wanted to be friends?

What did that even mean?

Beles made an odd noise in the back of his throat. It sounded high and utterly lost.

A small hoot drew his attention from his chaotic thoughts. The owl was perched on his knee. She chirped at him and hopped her way a little closer. His free hand smeared dried dirt in her feathers, but the owl didn't seem to mind. In fact, she nuzzled closer to his touch.

The pain in his chest slowly ebbed away, and it was easier to breathe.

Beles kept petting his owl as he closed his eyes and leaned back. His head thumped the door lightly, and he finally realized what to call the rush that made him run.

Why was he so scared?