Hi all! Hope you've all been keeping safe and busy.
I want to say thank you so so much to everybody reading, leaving comments and favs etc. I don't deserve this kind of attention, believe me! I'm just happy that my writing can make some of you happy.
Now then...
You think I'm gonna say something about this chapter? Nah, not this time. I'll let you all see for yourselves.
Hope you all enjoy. ~
V. Crest
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She dreamt she was in darkness again.
It was a familiar darkness. Mercedes was used to it growing up.
The girl felt a familiar presence at the end of the manor's hallway. A lone figure.
"…Mercie?"
A young boy stood there, his blonde hair a comforting sight to Mercedes.
"…Emile?"
By instinct, she slowly began to follow him.
"Emile! It's okay! I'm here!"
"Mercie?! Why are you leaving me here?"
She began to pick up her pace.
"What do you mean, Emile? I'm not going to-"
As she looked up to meet his gaze, he had begun to disappear further off down the hallway.
In fact, it had looked like the hallway had begun to expand and contract at will, as if ot was being toyed with by a presence not of this world.
"Mercie! Please, don't go without me!"
The boy began to disappear at the end of the hall, the inky darkness of the void consuming him whole.
Mercedes ran with all the strength she could muster, but it was of no use. He had vanished from sight as quickly as he appeared.
"Emile! No!"
"A-Ah!"
She found herself within another familiar darkness.
As she shot up out of her blanket, her breathing steadied as her eyes readjusted. Once more, she found herself in her tent, a sleeping mother to the sleeping bag to her right.
The gentle light of the moon streamed through the tent flap, rustling softly as the breeze picked up outside.
A drop of sweat trickled down her forehead. She moved her arm to wipe it off.
Mercedes looked over and watched her mother sleep. She tossed and turned incessantly, and the expression on her face showed one filled with confusion and heartache.
Mercedes held her hand over her chest, the rapid beating from before turning into a dull throb.
She wondered if her mother was sharing a similar dream to hers.
Despite their heart to heart the other night, she never truly began accepting the loss of her brother.
She envisioned him at their home that very second, alone and afraid…
His mother and sister abandoned him. Left him to die with their father.
She looked towards the light pouring in from the outside. She used to find comfort in the sight of the moon. But right now, it only brought painful memories.
Mercedes flicked her right hand. Her crest appeared, the light of the moon being replaced by the red glow of Lamine's emblem.
Tears pricked the sides of her eyes as she watched the glow of the crest within the darkness.
Heat built up within her cheeks as she sat and stared. She clenched her fist, the image disappearing into the night.
She slammed her fist down into her lap as she closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks.
With teeth clenched, she opened her eyes. Her tears felt as if they burned as they crawled down her face.
"…I will be better. I have to be."
"Byleth… can we practice again today?"
"Okay. Be ready in a few minutes?"
"Mhm."
Mercedes nodded her head and walked off to join her mother for a quick meal. Byleth watched as she strode off.
He took note of the slight drag in her feet.
He brushed it off to her being weary of the road.
After several hours of travel during the day, Jeralt's company of mercenaries had decided to stop for the day; stepping off his horse, Jeralt found himself entranced by the pristine lakefront that loomed ahead of them.
He decided then that it was a good place to stop for the time being.
Byleth road along the main carriage for the majority of the day. As they travelled down the road, he stared at the fields of dull wheat as they passed by them.
He recognized through the map he carried that they were passing through the lands of House Galatea.
He recalled the name through a history book he had read a while ago. House Galatea was founded by former members of House Daphnel, of the Leicester Alliance. Because of a feud between members of House Daphnel, many within the family had decided to establish their own noble house in Faerghus.
Byleth shook his head. Squabbles between nobles were of no interest to him; he didn't know why these people had let such disagreements tear their family apart.
The sight of endless fields of wheat dulled Byleth's senses as they travelled. He looked forward and met the gaze of Mercedes as she sat quietly in her seat.
The light bags underneath her eyes suggested to him that she hadn't been sleeping well as of late.
Soon enough, Byleth and Mercedes walked side by side as they each carried their own practice equipment, the girl carrying his bow and a training sword of her own.
She walked with a confidence and elegance that Byleth couldn't help but watch as they walked down the path. Only a few days ago she was shakily taking up the blade for the first time, and now she moved with a strength that he hadn't seen from her before.
He grew thankful that her slight change in mood hadn't carried over into their training sessions. As they walked down the path, Mercedes spoke happily of her progress and her plans for the future. Byleth simply smiled as he listened.
The two found themselves in another open field, the lake to their side. It was a separate spot from the company's camp, perfect for the two children to have their practice session at.
"…You're doing really good with shooting, so let's work with the sword today. You could use a little bit of work on that."
"Alright. I'm ready!"
Mercedes stretched her arms over her head and groaned as she felt her bones pop. Byleth pulled out his training sword and inspected it for any imperfections. When he finished, he threw aside his cloak and stretched alongside her.
As he did, he turned to his partner. She had pulled her hair back and tied it into a small bun on the back of her head, leaving a pair of strands dangling in front of her face. She had opted out of wearing her usual blouse, and instead had worn a long-sleeved shirt, rolled up her arms.
A new look for her, Byleth thought to himself. It was very different from the typical noble look she would wear normally.
But it was nice.
After she finished her stretch, Mercedes pulled her practice sword from her sheathe. She moved to hold it with both hands initially, before opting to wield it as Byleth had taught her before.
She gave the blade a few practice swings into the air, before resting it to her side.
"Okay! What are we working on today?"
"Let's work on your posture a bit. It's just like what I told you with shooting. Hold a center of balance…"
The late afternoon breeze blew in the sky, guiding a small sparrow in its flight. It travelled through the sky, alongside the golden leaves of the fall as they drifted in the air.
The sparrow came to rest on a branch, overlooking the lake. As it tweeted softly into the air, it watched as a group of birds continued their journey south, as they did every year during the autumn.
Its attention was soon turned towards a pair of children beneath it, as they trained into the setting sun, its light reflecting off of the glimmering water.
Mercedes listened intently as Byleth continued to teach her further in the art of swordfighting. Today, he had decided to focus on offense, as he had noted her somewhat weak performance in their last sparring session.
Byleth brushed off his hair to the side as he rested his sword to his side. He let out a deep breathe.
"…My dad taught me something very important when it comes to this, however."
Mercedes wiped the sweat off her brow and swatted her hair away, before staking her sword into the ground and leaning on it in exhaustion.
"Phew… what do you mean, Byleth?"
"He told me… the best defense is a good offense. Keep it up, and you'll be unstoppable."
As she found herself doing regularly now, her expression brightened as she listened to Byleth's praise.
"Thank you, teacher! I'm not gonna let up."
"That's good. I was hoping you wouldn't."
Byleth crossed his arms.
"Also… you don't have to call me teacher, you know. Just Byleth."
"Oh, I know! I just like calling you that, is all."
His face grew red as she let out another breathe. He shook it off as he moved towards her.
He brought his sword up and tapped it against her own, as she continued to gather her breathe.
"I know you've got some energy left. Let's have a quick spar before we head back to camp."
Mercedes lifted her sword from the ground and held it out, her resolve renewed.
"I've always got extra energy for this. Let's go."
She moved into a combat stance, her sword held out and her other arm raised and ready to guard.
Byleth smiled as he moved into his own stance, holding his own sword high yet firm. With any other swordsman, this stance would be broken easily as a mere glance of the arm would cause them to drop their weapon.
Luckily, Byleth was not just any swordsman.
"Let's move a little faster than last time. Tell me if you can't keep up."
Without warning, Mercedes launched her first attack; a slash into Byleth's upper guard, which he blocked effortlessly.
"Okay. Let's do it."
The two children paced back and forth as they moved into their own attacks. Byleth's style was heavy, every move having a purpose, yet he flowed across the field as if he was weightless. Almost like a shadow.
While Byleth's style was very deliberate, Mercedes' was very light and elegant, if a little unrefined. While she still struggled with her own offensives, she moved with a grace that was impressive, to say the least. In comparison, her defense was rock solid, reacting to each and every one of Byleth's attacks.
Byleth's eyes darted to the side.
An opening that she had failed to cover.
He feinted a jab towards her right side, before twisting his grasp and moving into her left. He poked the blade softly into her side.
"Poke. Got you."
"Ah! Not again. I swear I'll get you next time."
"…Your left flank was wide open. Make sure you have a plan to cover all of your openings, otherwise you're leaving your opponent a nice target."
And once again, they continued their spar as their blades crossed.
The sparrow continued to sit on the tree branch, as the two children continued their dance of blades in the field.
Mercedes picked herself back up as she continued to attack, each of her moves with purpose.
Her feet began to grow heavy as she moved through the grass.
Brushing it off, Mercedes forced herself into moving as she did before. Without question, her body answered.
A drop of sweat fell onto her eyelid. She moved to wipe it off, her vision blurring as she did, and her gaze never leaving Byleth.
A flash of gold as she narrowed her eyes.
Or was it something else?
Her expression darkened as her vision adjusted to the strange sight. She gripped her sword even harder.
Mercedes found herself lunging her blade, overextending herself as she moved. Byleth stepped to the side poked her once again.
"Poke. Got you."
Mercedes wiped herself off again before breathing out.
"I even know what I did wrong this time too. I stepped forward too much, didn't I?"
"Pulled your arm out too much, as well."
She held her wrist, rubbing it as she winced softly.
"I'm gonna end up pulling something else if I keep that up… one more?"
"Is your wrist going to be fine?"
She gripped her sword.
"It'll be okay. One more time… please?"
Byleth stared as her face grew serious. As she shuffled her feet, he recognized the drag within her step.
"…Okay. Just one more time, okay?"
"Got it."
Mercedes returned to her combat stance, her sword held at the ready.
Without any hesitation, Byleth held his own as well.
Another bead of sweat dropped into Mercedes' vision. Once more, she moved her free hand to wipe her face clean. And again, her gaze never drifted from Byleth.
Another flash. This time, she recognized the golden hue.
Only, it wasn't as golden as she first thought.
It was blonde. Definitively blonde.
Mercedes narrowed her eyes at the sight. Immediately, she launched her attack into Byleth's defense.
Byleth blocked the attack.
A true swordsman was able to read their opponent through their every action. This included their attacks; as Byleth lived a mercenary's life, he had come face to face with many different swordsmen, many of them older than he was.
As a result, he had come to know many different swordfighters. Everything he needed to know would be felt within the way they moved, and the way they attacked.
For example, Byleth had fought many bandits within his short life. Their attacks were sloppy, and therefore easy to block. Byleth could tell that many of these people were simply looking for a better standing in life, and that circumstances had led them down this path.
Other times, he would spar with other trained swordsmen. Their attacks told him that they were strong, their resolves strong, their minds trained.
When Byleth blocked Mercedes' attack, he felt something that he had never felt from any of the opponents that he had faced.
As soon as her attack landed, she pulled back and immediately began her next move. She swung her sword and attempted to take advantage of the opening that Byleth had left from her last attack.
He moved back and blocked the next attack.
Mercedes breathed out as quickly as she breathed back in. She moved back and wiped away the sweat from her face again.
A flash of blonde again. This time, a face became associated with the sight.
Within her sights, her brother Emile stood, sword at the ready. His face filled with a sorrow she had wished to erase from her memory.
She launched another attack. This time, a jab into Byleth's chest.
He sidestepped the attack, his blade glancing the rest of the blow.
This was something that he had never felt from any other opponent.
Each of these attacks were filled with grief.
Byleth looked down and watched as her feet dragged across the ground.
A slash from the right; he swung his sword to the side, in an attempt to block the incoming attack.
Mercedes winced as the attack connected. As she continued, her eyes never left the gaze of her brother, that same expression stuck to his face.
She moved to wipe away the sweat from her face again.
She felt tears begin to prick at her eyes again. As they began to move down her cheeks, she wiped them away as well.
Her heart began to ache as she swung at Emile, his expression unchanging.
As Byleth continued to block the barrage, his own expression grew concerned.
Mercedes moved back, her breathing becoming uneven.
He locked eyes with her. The same sorrow he felt within her blows reflected in her face as well.
"…Mercie? Are you-"
"Why won't you say anything?!"
Mercedes yelled as she brought her sword up and, without hesitation, swung it down with all the force she could muster. Byleth brought his blade up to block the attack, wincing as he held his stance.
Mercedes held her stance; Emile continued to stare into her, as his face refused to change. She had given up all attempts at wiping her face, as some tears began to move freely down her face.
She pulled back, meeting his gaze once more. She swung her blade to the side, as Emile blocked her move. With each consecutive attack, he would grow visibly weaker.
"Say something, Emile! Please, just anything!?"
"Mercie! What's wrong?"
Mercedes pulled her sword up one more time, hoping to break Emile's silence.
"What's wrong with you?! Why would you do this to mother!? I'll never forgive you!"
She yelled as she brought her sword down, as hard as she possibly could. She expected Emile's sword to take the brunt of the attack. She closed her eyes as she cried; Emile's silence echoed in her heart.
She expected to hear the clunk of the sword as she brought the blade down. However, she never heard such a thing. As a matter of fact, she never felt the familiar clash as the two blades would meet.
As she opened her eyes, she was only met with the sight of Byleth, eyes wincing as he held the blade in place with his bare hands. His own sword lay on the ground, having been thrown aside.
"Mercie? You have to stop!"
He grunted as he held the sword, Mercedes' grasp unyielding.
Her eyes widened, expression softening.
"…Byleth?"
A stream of blood began to flow down the blade, onto its hilt.
The second she returned to his gaze, she let go.
The sharp, splintered wood of the sword remained within Byleth's hands. After a second, the sword dropped to the ground, covered in red.
While they were practice swords, they were still fashioned as closely to the real thing as possible.
Byleth let his breath out as he kneeled, blood beginning to drip from both hands.
"…Mercie? Are you okay-nngh!"
He clutched his hands to his chest, staining his armor with his own blood. It dropped onto the grass below.
"N-No, Byleth! I-I'm sorry, I-I don't know-"
Mercedes ran and kneeled before him.
"Y-Your hands! I don't know what came over me, I-I-"
Byleth began to grow faint as he kneeled. He shook himself awake, attempting to fight off the pain.
"…M-Mercie, it's okay. I-I'm going to be fine-"
"Give me your hands!"
Without anything else, he pushed his hands away from his body for Mercedes to see. Two deep gashes were cut into his hands, a deeply red liquid pouring from each of them.
Byleth clenched his teeth as he exposed them to the open air, eyes closed.
Mercedes brought her hands forward, tears dropping down as she did. She held them over his damaged hands.
A gentle light sprung forth as Mercedes closed her eyes, focusing as she centered her magic onto his injuries.
"Please… let me do something right…"
Mercedes recalled her mother's teachings. She had taught her that she must put her entire being into the spell for it to be cast properly.
If she wanted to heal someone, she had to dedicate her life to it.
Slowly, but surely, the gentle light began to take effect. The gashes buried within Byleth's hands began to close. He let out another breath, letting the magic do its work.
After a few seconds, the wounds were closed, for the most part. His blood continued to stain his hands and armor, its heat radiating onto himself.
Byleth's breathing steadied, as he opened his eyes again. He looked at Mercedes; her eyes were filled with the same sadness he felt in each of her strikes.
"Come on, Byleth! We have to wash you off first!"
She grabbed his stained hands as she pointed towards the lakefront. She almost pulled his arm off as she led him to the water.
In the process, her own arms became wet with blood.
Mercedes helped Byleth as he knelt down, getting his armor wet.
She slowly began to pour water over his hands, cleaning them of any impurities. The water dripped back into the lake, a soft red mixing in with the pristine.
Byleth continued to breathe slowly, letting the water wash over him. He found comfort once again in the hands of the girl he called his friend.
He looked down to stare at his now clean hands. A pair of noticeable scars lined his palms, the fresh gashes still red in pain.
"I-I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, Byleth."
"It's okay, Mercie. I've gotten worse injuries before, it's nothing I can't handle."
Mercedes slammed her fists down into her lap, tears beginning to stream down her face once more.
"It's not okay! How could I do something like that? What's wrong with me?"
"It's fine. Really. Please… it's okay."
"Byleth… it's just… I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."
Without any more words, Mercedes threw her arms around Byleth, crying softly into his chest.
Byleth, taken back by the girl's sudden action, found himself confused on what to do in a situation like this.
After a few seconds of staying still, he looked down and looked at his left hand. He moved his fingers, thankfully unharmed. He winced lightly as he tried to clench his fist; it would be painful for a while, but that didn't matter to him at all.
He moved his hand towards the top of her head, patting it softly as she let her emotions out in front of him.
The sparrow watched the emotional scene from the same tree branch.
It looked up, watching another flock of birds continuing their journey south.
The bird took off, leaving the two children behind.
Byleth sat in the tent him and his father shared each night. A fresh pair of bandages found themselves wrapped around his wounded hands.
After Mercedes had calmed down, the two children decided to return to camp, Mercedes insisting that he get medical attention.
Ava, wanting to make herself useful, offered to inspect his injury. While the gashes were closed up properly thanks to Mercedes' quick thinking, they would likely leave a permanent scar upon his palms. Additionally, he would have to keep his hands wrapped up for a little while in order for the injury to heal properly.
Byleth insisted that it would be fine and that no dressings would be necessary. Mercedes stepped forward and talked him down, raising her voice as she insisted he take it easy and let his hands heal properly.
He backed down upon hearing the girl's voice raised.
Jeralt watched as Ava dressed his wounds, Mercedes sitting at his side with arms grasped upon his shoulder.
Byleth had told his father that he had fell from a tree, getting his hands ripped up in the process. He seemed to accept this excuse; he imagined Byleth getting into such a situation often.
Before returning to camp, Byleth washed off the blood from the training sword. Their parents didn't need to know what had happened, he thought.
"Well… maybe that'll teach ya to watch your footing, hey kid?"
"Mhm."
Byleth nodded softly, as a cooling sensation fell over his hands.
Mercedes squirmed in her seat, her expression saddening as she gripped Byleth even harder.
Ava finished wrapping the bandages, letting out a sigh of relief.
"How about we let little Byleth rest, Mercedes? You can visit later, can't you?"
Mercedes nodded, letting go of Byleth in the process.
Byleth quickly found himself missing her touch.
"Okay, mother. I'll come see you later, 'kay?"
"…Okay."
Ava stood and held her daughter's hand, leading her out of the tent. Mercedes turned back, staring wistfully at the boy before turning back towards the camp.
Jeralt took Mercedes' place on the bed, as Byleth stared down at his hands.
He placed his hand on his shoulder.
"…That girl cares about you a lot, you know?"
"…She does. I don't get it."
He stood back up and moved towards the tent flap. He turned back towards his son one more time.
"You'll get it eventually. Take it easy for now, kid."
"Alright, father."
Jeralt stepped out of the tent, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Byleth let himself fall upon his bed, his arms splayed across the sheets.
While he attempted to stay awake, he let an unknown amount of time pass. He let himself become lost within his thoughts.
While Byleth was stunted when it came to emotions, he was sharp enough to decipher Mercedes' words earlier.
The words echoed within his mind.
"…Say something, Emile…"
Byleth recalled his conversation with Ava the other evening.
"…You remind me of him…"
The mother and daughter had been masquerading their emotions during their time with the company.
They only wanted one thing. To see Emile, one more time.
The night they had escaped replayed within his mind. He recalled Emile, standing in the doorway. An expression of sorrow within his eyes.
He remembered seeing himself within those eyes.
"…Byleth?"
He was broken from his thoughts by a familiar voice. He sat up, meeting Mercedes' gaze as she peeked her head in from the outside.
"…Mercie?"
"…Hi. I know you don't want to see me right now but-"
"N-No! I-I… I want to see you."
He stood up, holding his hands up in an attempt to stop her from leaving.
She stepped inside the tent, dressed in her robe and shawl. The darkness seeped in from the outside. Byleth stepped forward.
"It's dark outside…?"
"…Yeah. You missed dinner. That's why I brought you some."
She held her hand out, a small bowl of stew in her grasp.
"Oh… I'm not hungry right now. But thank you."
Mercedes set the bowl down on the table, her feet shuffling in place.
Byleth looked out the tent, the moon's light shining down.
"How are you feeling, Byle-"
"D-Do you want to go walk for a bit? It's r-really pretty outside."
Mercedes eyes widened at his forward invitation. A soft smile returned to her face upon hearing the words.
"…O-Okay. Are you going to be fine?"
"Y-Yes. Don't worry, you didn't hit me that hard."
"G-Good. I'm not very strong, so I hope I didn't do any real damage."
Without another word, Byleth held his hand out, Mercedes taking it within her own. She led him out of the tent, and into the cool night air.
Byleth looked up into the sky, the moon hovering above them. He found himself in this sort of situation with her a lot, as of late.
As they walked hand in hand, Mercedes turned towards him.
"…Are you still mad at me? I understand if you are."
"…I was never mad at you."
The two children found themselves at the foot of the forest, on the same trail they took earlier that afternoon.
They walked, hands held, as the sounds of the forest surrounded them.
"…Why wouldn't you be angry with me? I hurt you… really badly."
"You said it yourself. You're not very strong, you couldn't hurt me badly anyways."
"…Hey, mean."
Mercedes struggled to get the words out as they walked. While normally she would have slapped his shoulder after one of these comments, she merely stared forward this time.
Byleth, expecting another shoulder slap, softened as he looked at her.
Deep down, he knew that what happened weighed on her heavily.
"You're really forgiving, you know that? I can't even forgive myself…"
"…You're an easy person to forgive."
Mercedes sighed as they continued down the trail. No matter what she would say, none of her words would get through to him; she realized that he meant his words, each and every one of them.
Soon, they found themselves at the lake, the same place they held their lesson earlier. The moon reflected off of the water.
Mercedes stepped forward, letting herself breathe in the crisp air of the lake. Byleth stood back and watched.
He stepped forward.
"Emile is your brother, right?"
Mercedes froze, his words having sunken in.
Without turning to meet him, she spoke softly.
"…Yes. I… said his name earlier, didn't I?"
"You did."
"Do you remember that night? I told you… you remind me of him. There's something about you that…"
She turned around to face him.
"Byleth… whenever I see you… I see him. I see Emile."
Byleth's expression saddened. They had spent all this time together, yet every second they spent with each other…
She must have been in so much pain, he thought.
"When I saw him in you… I was angry at him. Because he chose to stay behind for our sakes. He didn't have to. I…"
"I'm sorry, Mercie. It's selfish of me… to think I could replac-"
"No no, Byleth… it's me who's being selfish."
She stepped forward.
"You're not my brother. I know that. I… I miss him. So much. But you're helping me out, by being here for me while I'm sad… you're more than that to me. From now on… I want to see just you, Byleth. Only you."
She turned back towards the lake. Byleth stepped forward and stood next to her as they stared off into the horizon.
"Do you know why we left him that night?"
"I think so. My dad told me a little bit."
"But… do you know the real reason?"
His chest clenched, a sudden feeling of sadness growing within him.
"No… what is it?"
Mercedes breathed out, letting herself relax. She held her hand out, above the water. She closed her eyes, focusing her energy into her palm.
A dull, red glow emanated from her hand. Byleth's eyes widened.
A crest.
"My mother says that our ancestor was a hero named Lamine. When she died a long time ago, she passed on her crest to her children. And then her children to theirs. Eventually, I got one. So did Emile."
"And your… dad, he wanted your crest for his own gain."
"That's right. So, Emile thought that if he stayed… he would have no reason to come after us. As long as one of his kids stayed… he would have his crest."
Byleth clenched his fists. His hands flared up, his wounds threatening to open up again. But he didn't care.
He hated it. He hated people like Mercedes' father, who would use their own child as a pawn in a greater game.
"Only nobles have to deal with things like this. My mom said so… in a way, I'm jealous of you. You don't have to deal with stupid stuff like this; I hate it. I hate this thing… so much."
"I-I…"
Byleth held his hands out, placing them on Mercedes' shoulders as he pulled her closer. She blushed at the sudden contact.
"I need to show you something. Other than my dad… I've never shown anyone this before. I want you… to know that."
"…Byleth? What are you-"
Without acknowledging her, he held his right hand out. He winced in pain as he tried to stretch his hand out as far as he could.
It was something he learned to do on his own. Unlike Mercedes, whose mother taught her how to summon.
He focused his energies into his wounded palm. Out of the darkness, came another light.
This one was different, however. The energy crackled and snapped, as if it were being restrained. Byleth winced as he forced out the magic, releasing his breath as soon as he knew he had done it properly.
She couldn't believe her eyes. But it was in front of her, as clear as day.
It was Byleth's crest. The broken image of an unknown crest shivered, as it struggled to remain in place.
Together, they held their hands out.
In Mercedes', a true and proper crest.
In Byleth's, a broken and unstable crest.
"Byleth?! You have one too…?"
"I've had this for as long as I can remember. I don't know where it came from. My dad doesn't either. Not even he has one."
His voice shook as he spoke.
"I tried to read books about crests before. The one I have… it's never been in any of them. No one knows where mine comes from."
Mercedes looked down at the pair of crests, staring curiously. She turned her gaze back up to meet Byleth's.
A wry smile attempted to grow on his face.
"But this crest doesn't make me special. It doesn't define me. Why should you let yours define you?"
He took his free hand and grabbed Mercedes'. Their crests continued to glow within the darkness.
"Don't let it, Mercedes. You can be better. You have to be."
The two children flicked their wrists at the same time, the images of their crest dissipating.
Byleth, realizing their position, let go of the girl's hand. A gentle blush settled on both of their faces.
Mercedes lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Byleth's waist.
Byleth was familiar with this situation, as they went through the same thing earlier. However, something about it felt different.
It felt nice. It wasn't a hug fueled by grief. Just like how he could judge a swordsman by their attacks, he could sense her feelings through her hug.
This was comfort. A sense of belonging.
He did what he knew best; he laid his hand on the top of her head, and patted it softly.
"Byleth… we can be better. Let's do it… together."
"Right. We'll be stronger, too."
She released herself from his grasp and collapsed onto the grass, letting the cool air wash over her.
Byleth watched as she reached for the sky, as she did a few nights ago. He sat on the grass next to her.
He stared off into the lake before speaking.
"Can you tell me about him?"
"…Hmm?"
"…Emile. What's he like?"
Mercedes smiled, the memories of her brother beginning to pour in.
"…You know how I told you just to call me 'Mercie'? It's something my brother started calling me when he was a little kid… because he couldn't say my whole name properly yet."
She laughed gently, the memory comforting her.
"He was really reckless when he was little… he used to run around the house, whacking me with his sword whenever he got the chance. He was always begging me to play swords with him. He got really good at it too, just like you."
Byleth smiled at the memory, as if it were his own.
Mercedes sat up, her usual smile returning to her as she spoke.
"He always tried to skip lessons with mother to go practice with his swords some more. It always made her really frustrated, but she was never upset with him. He was never really cut out for magic anyways; he liked spending time outside with the horses more!"
"Really? I thought someone related to you and your mom would be really good at magic."
"Not at all, Byleth! His spells would always end up blowing up in his face. He would always whine when I laughed at him… but I never meant it in a mean way. I'm his big sister, it's what I do."
She laughed again upon reciting the memory. Once more, she fell back onto the soft grass.
Her voice softened.
"You… would have really liked him."
Byleth let himself fall onto the grass as well. He reached out into the sky, same as Mercedes.
"Tell me more, Mercie."
The smile returned to her face, her voice brightening once more.
"Okay… where do I even continue? How about the time he got stuck on our roof? He was being really dumb one day, and he…"
Mercedes waved her hands in the air as she told Byleth of Emile's exploits. Her voice surged as she spoke of her younger brother.
Byleth smiled as he listened intently.
As her voice soothed him, he realized that he wanted nothing more than to keep this girl happy. Just like this.
All his life he had focused on his needs.
This was something that he wanted.
How would he get what he wanted then…?
He wasn't sure. But he'd get there eventually, he thought.
One step at a time.
Ah... oh my. Anyways, let's talk...
Mercie has been, lowkey, in lots of pain during this story so far. This chapter seems to be the culmination of those feelings; she didn't seem to be taking it well, wasn't she?
But... those feelings are all out in the open now. Now it's up to her to build herself back up! New beginnings and all that jazz. ~
Now that I think about it, basically every scene in this chapter is a Byleth/Mercedes one. Dialogue this time around was not such a happy task compared to the last few chapters, but friends go through rough patches every once in a while, don't they? It's just something these two have to learn. And no matter what, the road continues. ;)
Again, thank you guys so much for reading and reviewing! I'm a first time poster, so you wouldn't believe how much it makes my day to see people enjoying my writing. Shout out to all y'all.
See you guys next time. ~
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~Arujira