Bit of an exposition-y chapter. Seriously, the more I plan ahead on things, the more I realize how little the game explains in terms of world building and magic system. Like, is it a hard magic or a soft magic system?

I get why that is. It's a game and magic and spells are just things that you do since they're a part of the core gameplay mechanics, but it's a whole different thing when writing it out.

I could just go the lazy route and not explain the magic system at all, but that just feels bleeeeh.

. . .

. . .

In his office, Seteth let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He set down the paper he was holding onto his desk, letting it join the countless other sheets spread out across his desk's surface. More and more reports were arriving every day about bandits terrorizing local territories, or a lack of resources in other areas of Fódlan, or reports of rumors about an organization that threatened to overthrow the Central Church. If he didn't eventually die of old age thousands of years from now, the stress would definitely do so.

"Is something the matter, Seteth?" a gentle and warm voice asked.

Seteth looked up to see Rhea standing by the door to his office. Her eyes were filled with mirth as she looked over at the piles of papers on his desk.

"Everything, Rhea. Everything," Seteth said with another sigh. Pointing to a stack of papers on the top right corner of his table. "Those over there are from some villages from the Kingdom of Faerghus asking for some protection against some brigands and wild beasts in the area. I don't know why they're asking us for help when they have the kingdom's army and knights. And those right there - " He pointed at an unsealed letter. " - those are from Morfis."

"Morfis?" Rhea raised an elegant brow. Walking over to his desk, she picked up the envelope. "Why would a nation that isn't part of the Alliance contact us?"

"The usual political pleasantries to keep up relations," Seteth replied as he went back to the tedious talk of reading and signing papers with the Central Church's signature. "And how they regret not being able to send a group of students to the monastery this year." He fought down a scoff. "As if they would ever send their youth to Fódlan. Had they truly wanted to, they would've sent a batch years ago instead of constantly making excuses year after year."

Rhea's eyes danced across the letter as her lips curled into a confused frown.

"Ah yes, they asked us to inform them if we encounter someone who has a large bounty on their head," Seteth nonchalantly added. "A few of the listed crimes include smuggling, impersonating a member of the Morfis's royal guard, impersonating a cleric of Morfis's church…" There was a stifled laugh from Rhea that Seteth chose to ignore. "…arson, over sixty-thousand gold pieces worth of property damage - "

"Sixty-thousand?!" Rhea gasped. "Did he level an entire residential district?"

"Perhaps. The letter does not go into detail."

Rhea slowly nodded and continued to read the letter. "'Escaped his execution due to the assistance of his accomplices. Upon being freed of his chains, he and his accomplices managed to escape and has evaded capture ever since.' I can see why they'd ask us to be on the lookout." She paused as she read further. "Oh, they wrote a physical description of him. 'Short, black hair, brown eyes, a brand on the back of his right hand. Skilled in the use of magic.'"

She pursed her lips as she finished reading the letter. Noticing the change in her facial expression, Seteth asked her, "Is something wrong?"

"I was just thinking…no, it couldn't be him," she muttered, placing a slender finger on her chin.

"Rhea."

Her eyes moved up to meet his gaze. "Have we ever seen Professor Robin without his glove on? His right hand, that is. In the years that I have known him, I've only seen him without some sort of covering on his left hand a total of six times, but I have never seen his right hand bare."

Seteth furrowed his brow in confusion. "I fail to see what that has to do with anything - " He froze as he caught on to what she was saying. "You think he and the wanted man are one and the same."

"Yes."

"Indeed, it is possible. It is nigh impossible to escape from Morfis's gallows and the listed crimes do suit the professors…unique personality. And black hair dye is not uncommon." He hummed in thought and leaned into his chair. "He mentioned that the method in which he arrived at the Red Canyon was due to a "panic warp", though I believe there may have been some time between his escape and his arrival. Hair dye is not something that can be removed in such a short amount of time."

"Maybe this is all just a coincidence."

"Perhaps. And it is not as if we could just ask the professor to remove his gloves without arousing suspicion."

With another nod, Rhea set the letter back down onto Seteth's desk. "Where is the professor, anyway?"

Seteth glanced over at a clock on the wall. "Weekend, half past noon… He should be in one of the classrooms, giving extra credit to the students that participate in his lecture about - "

. . .

"Magic!"

With an extravagant flick of his wrist, Professor Robin drew a line underneath the word "magic" that he wrote on the blackboard. Behind him, scattered about the Golden Deers classroom, was a small number of students.

"Or rather, the inherent weaknesses of magic. As much as I love magic and though I am a firm believer that you can achieve anything through it as long as you're imaginative and thorough enough, like how I'm going to achieve world domination, it does have its weaknesses. Now then, who here can tell me one such weakness?" he asked the class.

A full five seconds of silence passed without an answer. Whether the students were thinking of a weakness or wondering if he was telling the truth of world domination was unknown.

Rolling his eyes, Robin tossed the stick of chalk from one gloved hand to the other. Faint, white lines were left behind on his gloves where the ends of the chalk touched the leather. "No answer. Alright then, let's start simpler. Infantrymen - the sword-people and spear-people and the axe-people in the army, but not the archers - what are their weaknesses?"

This time, multiple hands shot up into the air.

"Oh good, a response. Yes, you, pumpkin-head."

Annette, the student that was called upon, looked taken aback for a second before composing herself. Clearing her throat, she replied, "They have limited range. When faced with an archer or a caster, they're at a disadvantage with their weapons being outreached."

"Correct!" Robin snapped his fingers and pointed at her all in the same motion. "Any others?"

"They're slow," Ingrid said. "Wherever an infantryman can get to, someone on horseback or a pegasus can get there faster."

"Correct!" Robin said again. "So, with those sorts of examples in mind, what are the weaknesses of magic?"

There was a short silence again before Lysithea raised her hand. Upon getting a finger pointed at her by the professor, she answered, "Mana supply. If not careful, a magic caster can expend their entire supply of mana with only a few spells."

"Correct!" Robin said for the third time. Quickly writing it onto the blackboard, he turned back around and asked, "Anyone else?"

Silence once again fell upon the room. Everyone seemed to avoid Robin's eyes as practically everything else in the room suddenly became incredibly interesting. Like the locked box on top of the professor's desk.

"Oh for me's sake, what are the academies doing?" the professor groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, here's a quick breakdown."

He turned around and wrote the word "stiff" on the board.

"One weakness with magic is that it is stiff. And what I mean by that is that once you start casting a spell through an array, you either have to finish casting the spell or break the seal array, which could cause a backlash on the caster if the array is broken by a third party. Not only that, once you start drawing it, you can't modify it in any way. You can relax a drawn bowstring, stop a spear thrust at any time, feint with a sword then divert the angle of attack, and so on and so forth. However, in the case of magic, a Thunder array will always be a Thunder, and a Fire will always be a Fire. There isn't a single thing you can do about that."

A second bullet point was added below the first one and wrote "time".

"Another weakness is the time it takes to cast any spell. So long as you're using a seal array, the fastest that you cast your spell will be just under three seconds. On the other hand, someone using any other weapon will be able to hit you before your spell is cast. A decent archer can grab an arrow from their quiver, nock it, aim, and fire in about two seconds. A skilled archer can do that in less than a single second. And if someone is holding a sword, spear, axe, or any other weapon within five steps of you, you'll be dead before that spell array is even halfway finished."

Another bullet point was added.

"Predictability!" Facing the class, he drew a large seal array in front of him. "When using the standard arrays, there isn't much that you can do to throw off your opponent. Light magic, Dark, Anima - all of them can only be used in one way. A Fire spell will always be a fireball that flies straight forward. The same goes for Wind. Thunder will always strike down from directly above your target. Dangerous if you get hit by it, but all easy enough to dodge. Even spells that affect a large area, such as Bolganone and Abraxas, can be avoided with fast enough reflexes.

"This glaring problem is made even worse when against someone that knows all of these spells well enough." He gestured at the array he made earlier. "Every seal array will show the runes that are used in the array." To emphasize his point, every rune in the array began to glow. "If you know the runes, you'll know what spell is being cast. You're literally spelling out the name of the magic that you're casting. And just as you kiddos can read a word and understand it in a fraction of a second, a caster with sufficient knowledge in runes can do the same with your seal arrays."

A few of the students nodded in understanding and he drew a fourth bullet point. Once the following word was written, he rapped his knuckle on it a few times.

"This," he said with his voice full of distaste. "This is the bane of any magic caster or group of casters, which is aptly named - "

. . .

"Anti-magic barrier! Mages, focus on support! Archers, weaken the barrier for the vanguard! Until then, stay evasive!"

There was a chorus of affirmations from the battalions of men around Byleth, though it was quickly drowned out by a monstrous roar. He dived out of the way as a giant claw slammed down on the spot where he stood a second ago, creating a shockwave that sent him tumbling through the air.

From somewhere behind him, he heard Edelgard yell, "Fire!", followed by the whistles of dozens of arrows flying overhead.

A hand appeared next to him to help him up.

"Are you alright, Professor?" Dimitri asked.

Byleth took the offered hand and pulled himself up. "Quite fine. What about you?"

"I'm not too sure if I'm to be totally honest. Never thought I'd fight a monster," the prince wryly chuckled and shrugged. "How about you, Professor?"

"This is a first for me as well," Byleth responded. He looked at the golden barrier that flickered around the gargantuan monster with each attack that connected.

There was another roar from the monster. Vaguely looking like a giant lizard with scales of stone, it towered over them even on all four legs. A row of spikes protruded from its spine, each as tall as a man, and its mouth was lined with razor-sharp teeth. It swung its head, spearing a soldier clean through with its horn before sending a squad of soldiers flying with a single swipe of its claw.

"Anti-magic barriers, on the other hand, I've fought against many times," Byleth said. "If it's similar to the ones that mages can cast, we'll need to remove it in order to inflict any lasting wounds against the monster. If we can pierce its armor, that is."

"I see. What would be the first step in removing the barrier, Professor?" Dimitri asked, eagerly awaiting the professor's wisdom. Young, the professor might be, but he's been a mercenary his entire life. His combat knowledge would be leagues higher than any student in the monastery.

"You hit it," the professor flatly replied.

There was a second of stunned silence as not only Dimitri, but a few other members of their battalion that were close enough to hear Byleth, stared at him in disbelief.

"Beg pardon?" Dimitri managed to choke out.

Professor Byleth looked over at Dimitri with an incredible poker face, and while maintaining it, he repeated, "You hit it. Really hard."

In the middle of the room, the monster roared and slammed its tail down, narrowly missing a squad of pikemen.

"Alright!" Caspar grinned, eagerly slamming his fists together. "You heard him, everyone! Let's pummel this thing!"

"Spread out! Don't provide a large target!" Byleth barked.

There was an energetic-yet-slightly-confused roar of approval from every battalion as they readied themselves to rush the giant monster.

. . .

The class watched as Professor Robin drew a lopsided, vertical rectangle on the blackboard, an uneven circle with squiggly lines surrounding it to the left of the square, and a few dotted arrows pointing away from the square on the right.

"As to how anti-magic barriers work? Say you shoot a fireball."

The professor pointed at the circle and squiggly lines, and every student in the room came to a unanimous agreement; Professor Robin had absolutely zero talent in art.

"Now, so long as the fireball is made from magic and hits the barrier - " He tapped on the lopsided square. " - the barrier will convert the magical attack and break it back down into base form, which is mana. Once broken down, the mana will be dispersed into the air," he finished, pointing at the dotted arrows. "As far as we know, there are only two ways to get rid of this obnoxious barrier. Do any of you kiddos know or want to take a guess?"

To no one's surprise, Lysithea raised her hand. "Find the mages that are casting the spell and disrupt them."

"Nice one, my little minion," the professor smiled, immediately causing said minion to angrily pout. "Anti-magic barriers are not easy to maintain over an extended period of time, so if you just find the mage casting it and just smack them upside the head, boom! Barrier down." He looked around the class. "And the second method?"

"Break the barrier through physical force," Ignatz answered, fixing the position of his glasses. "The strength of the barrier would depend on the number of mages sustaining it, but all barriers can be broken physically. This is one of the few instances in which a magic construct can be affected by an outside, physical force."

"Ding ding ding! Correct and well put, Greenie," the professor said, flicking a finger in his direction. "And now, here's the thing." He placed his hand on top of the locked box on his desk. "What if I told you all that there was a third way to get rid of an anti-magic barrier and prevent the mage from casting any other spell?"

Every student leaned forward in their seats, eager to see what was inside the box. Seeing their anticipation, the professor unlocked the box and unhooked the latch. He grabbed the top of the lid and began to open it very, very slowly, much to everyone's vexation. Just before Lysithea was about to tell the professor to hurry up and open the box, he flung it open.

Inside the box was a metal brick that was deep purple in color. Despite it being made out of metal, it seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.

"Morite," the professor said, answering the question that was in many students' minds. "A rare metal that, if in contact with anything constructed of magic, will disperse the magic into mana. If in contact with a magic caster, even through clothes, will prevent the person from being able to cast anything. This can be mitigated a little by having some sort of armor between you and the morite, but at that point, your spells are going to be severely weakened. Weakened to the point that a Bolganone would be like a candle flame.

"In the case of an anti-magic barrier, if you throw morite at it, it'll tear a hole in it as it easily goes through the entire barrier. If you have a good arm, you can throw a chunk of morite through a barrier and at the casters keeping it up, which would then cause the entire barrier to fall. A spear or an arrow with a morite tip works even better."

All of the students leaned forward even further to get a closer look at the metal in the box.

"With that said, who would like to demonstrate the effects of morite for the rest of the class?" he asked, looking around the room. "I promise it won't hurt."

Before the professor said that line, the prospect of morite hurting them never crossed any of the students' minds. However, now that it was said, the thought was now in the back of everyone's minds. And given what kind of person the professor was, none of them believed his promise that it would not hurt.

"Tch. You're all boring," the professor said with a roll of his eyes. "Anyway, as you can all see here, what I have is a small bit of morite. Hardly anything dangerous as it is, this does not make it any less dangerous. Even this small amount can be melted down and crafted into a chain or into an arrowhead. And if you're hit by it, well, say goodbye to your being able to cast magic for a while."

"Then what should you do if you're near one, Professor?" Annette curiously asked.

"Easy. If you're just within the vicinity of one like we are now, just get away from it. Fortunately, the only way that it can affect you is through physical contact. I'm standing this close to it without any inhibitions on my magic, after all."

As if to prove his point, he created a ball of fire and began tossing it between his hands as if it was a toy.

"If it was fashioned into a chain or is latched onto you in any way, you better know how to fight without magic. That or…well…" The professor grinned as a strange smile appeared on his face. "…pick a god and pray."

Annette immediately frowned. "That's not very helpful, professor."

"Because there really isn't much a magic caster can do when entangled with morite. The best you can hope for is that you have someone nearby that can do one of two things: one, kill whatever threat is around you. Two, get the morite off of you. Or both.

"That being said, morite is still a rare metal and is not something that your average person will be able to come by. The likelihood of you encountering it is pretty small, though you can probably find some on the black market. But just because it is improbable does not mean it is impossible. Be prepared for anything and everything, kiddos. Never hurts to have contingency plans."

From the front of the class, Claude nodded to himself before asking, "Hey, Teach. How does morite prevent a mage from using magic?"

"Good question," the professor replied, drawing a crude stick figure with its stomach circled on the board. "Everyone has a source of mana inside them, or a mana core." He tapped on the circle a couple of times. "And by "everyone", I mean literally everyone. It doesn't matter if you suck at magic so badly that you can't cast the most elementary of spells - everyone has it."

Multiple arrows were drawn leading from the circle and out to all of the stick figure's limbs.

"From your core, mana is constantly circulating throughout your body. When you cast a spell, your core sends mana to whichever limb you're using to cast the spell. In most cases, it's the arms and hands. However!" He drew a line through one of the "arms". "If you come into contact with morite, then the flow of mana is slowed down so much to the point that you won't have enough output of mana for any spell."

Claude's brow furrowed in confusion. "Wouldn't that just mean that a spell would take that much longer to cast than being unable to cast at all?"

"That's the thing about mana; it can never truly stop flowing," the professor said. "If it helps, you can imagine the steps for casting a spell to be like shooting an arrow from a bow. Initiating the spell and having mana course through your body would be pulling the bowstring back. The mana leaving your body is like releasing the string. The mana igniting the seal array and shooting a fireball is like the bowstring snapping back into place and shooting the arrow.

"However, if the output of mana is too slow, this would be the equivalent of an archer slowly and manually relaxing the bowstring back into its resting position. In doing so, no arrow is released, and in the case of magic, no spell is cast. This also prevents any sort of healing spells to be cast on you as healing spells need to flow through your mana system in order to - " He suddenly froze in place. The stick of chalk slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor, breaking into pieces. "Naga's tits, that's why…"

The students in the room were understandably confused, knowing neither the "why" or who "Naga" was. But they could surmise that Naga was most likely a woman due to the anatomy that was added after the name, and given the blatant use of said anatomy, a few of the younger and more innocent students' faces turned red.

"Professor? Is something wrong?" Annette worriedly asked.

The professor shut the box containing the morite. Pulling out his dagger, he quickly ran out of the classroom and hurled the dagger into the sky.

"Class dismissed! Don't touch my box!" he yelled through the open doors before vanishing in a flash of purple lightning.

Now even more confused than before, everyone in the class looked at one another.

"What was that about?" Ingrid asked.

"Who knows? The professor's weird," Annette said with a frown.

"That, he is," Claude agreed. "But at least he's interesting."

Which was a sentiment shared by everyone else in the room.

. . .

Composure was something that came through practice and time. No matter what may be thrown at an individual, keeping one's features schooled and not showing any outward hints of being startled was something that Seteth learned throughout his years.

An enemy ambush in the dark of night? Laughable.

A meal being too bitter or unsuited to his palette? He could force it down without any change in expression.

That silly game of cards where tricking the other players was tantamount to victory? He had yet to meet a single soul who was able to call his bluffs.

It was due to all of this and more that stayed his hand to not grab his spear when an oddly-shaped dagger flew in through his open window. Purple lightning flashed in the room, leaving behind the person responsible for the stress that he was feeling alongside the smell of ozone in place of where the dagger landed.

"Morite!" the problem-professor of the academy exclaimed, pulling his dagger out of the floor.

Seteth looked down at the hole in his carpet that was not there two seconds ago. Grabbing his spear and poking the other person with the pointy end was looking more like a favorable option.

"Yes, I am familiar with it," Seteth replied in a stiff voice.

"I'm like ninety-something-percent sure that Manuela was stabbed by a morite blade. Or, at least, a blade that contains morite," the professor said, not so subtly covering up the hole he made with his boot. "She was stabbed in the chest, right? That's pretty close to where your mana core is, and the morite would've disrupted the flow of mana circulating through her body, which is probably the reason why she isn't healing from the usual healing methods."

"I am well aware of what morite can do to the body, as is Lady Rhea. The possibility of Professor Manuela's wound being inflicted by a morite blade is not something that we overlooked," Seteth calmly replied. "It was one of the first things that we suspected upon hearing about the strange affliction, and is what we currently suspect to be the primary reason why Professor Manuela was not healing through normal means."

The professor deflated like a balloon losing air. "Oh. Well then." His peppy attitude returned as quickly as it vanished. "Well, that's really all I had to say. See ya!"

As he turned around to leave, Seteth called out to him. "Professor Robin."

"Hi, yes, that's me!" was the professor's reply.

Seteth gestured at the guest chair on the other side of his desk for the professor to sit. The offer was taken, and once the professor was seated, Seteth asked, "It's been almost two months ever since you were instated as a professor. How have you been acclimating to your position?"

"'Acclimating'?" The professor raised a brow. "Odd choice of word there, yeah?"

"But one that suits the situation," Seteth said without skipping a beat.

The professor shrugged. "Fair." He placed his hands behind his head. "Before that though, mind if I ask something?"

"By all means."

"Why are runes not part of the standard curriculum?"

Seteth's eyes narrowed slightly at the question. "They are. The concept of seal arrays is taught in the first year of magic classes, and introduction to runes would be in their fourth year. From there, the students could continue on the path of magic on their own or apply to Garreg Mach Monastery for an in-depth schooling of it."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I wrote the curriculum myself."

"…Are you sure?" the professor repeated with his voice dripping in heavy skepticism.

'Of course I'm sure! I wrote the damn thing!' Seteth internally screamed. On the outside, his face was perfectly neutral as he answered, "Yes, I am quite sure."

"No, I mean, are you like…are you sure-sure? Cause none of the little brats know about them. Pretty sure you've noticed that everyone uses standard seal arrays during live combat and training sessions."

The frown on Seteth's face deepened. "What do you mean?" he demanded.

"What do you mean what do I mean? Have you not been paying any attention?"

Seteth raised a brow and gestured at the mountains of paper on his desk. Even the lampstand he bought a few weeks ago was home to a few piles of documents.

"Ah. I…I see," the professor slowly said and gave Setheth a sympathetic look. For some reason, the look that he received annoyed Seteth more than it should have.

"Exactly," Seteth said. "So I'm afraid that I haven't had the time to personally look over the academy students."

The professor scrunched his face and scratched the back of his head. "Mm, sure. But you should've seen that the graduates haven't been using runes, right?"

"That, I have. However, the school has never pushed for the students to constantly use runes if they are not comfortable with it. The practical finals in their third year are based on the speed and accuracy of the spells that they cast rather than how they cast them. Not to mention that there are other members of the staff that overlook the exams. I alone cannot do everything at once."

"Yeah, but runes are so much better than the seal arrays. And faster. And more customizable," the professor argued. "They're just better in every way."

"Just because something is easy for one person does not mean that it would be easier for another," Seteth calmly countered. "We are also in a state of peace with the most common threat being bandits on the road."

"Uh huh. And how 'bout if the brats were to come across an actual threat? Say, a spellcaster that uses sealless spells and can read a seal array's inscription and break the array before the cast is even halfway finished? Or someone that's one a completely different level in skill and strength?" the professor asked. "Like the skeleton armor dude that was at the corpse storage room. Dark Knight, or whatever his name was. I guarantee you that he would have made that stone floor look sparkling clean once he was done with the students."

Seteth slowly shook his head. "I admit that the possibility of the students encountering an outlier such as the Death Knight is probable. However, it is for this very reason that we do not let the students leave the mausoleum without the proper personnel to keep them safe, whether it be the Knights of Seiros or professors like you."

"Aww, you think that highly of me? I'm flattered," the professor said, placing his hands over his cheeks and bashfully looking away.

Never before had Seteth struggled so hard to keep his stomach down.

"Well, as much as I enjoy your praise, you really should look into it. "It" being the fact that the little brats don't know a thing about runes aside from the fact that they're in the arrays' makeup," the professor continued, his face having returned to normal in an instant. "There aren't any in the library either."

That caught Seteth's attention. While he did remove a few books from the library, he never removed anything that would inhibit the students' studies. The only ones that he removed were the books that would delve a little too deep into the Crests, such as their origins and their relation to the Heroes' Relics. Such things were better off being kept a secret instead of instilling needless fear and confusion.

"That is…odd, to say the least," Setheth murmured, steepling his fingers. It was clear that he had let his paperwork, while important, blind him from the finer details of the students' lives and studies. "I will have to speak with Tomas."

The professor raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Who?"

It was Seteth's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Tomas? The librarian for the monastery?"

"We have one of those?"

"A librarian?"

"Yeah."

'Deep breaths, Seteth. Deep breaths. In, out. In, out.'

"We indeed have a librarian," Seteth replied after calming himself. "Who do you think organizes all of the books and keeps the logs of the books that are taken out?"

"I thought one of the other brats would do that. Pretty sure I saw one of the second-years behind the main desk the other day."

A little too much pressure was applied onto the pen that Seteth was holding, causing it to snap in half. "What."

What was Tomas thinking? He could understanding delegating some tasks in the library to students, but the logs of what goes in and out of the library was not a job to be taken lightly. There were numerous books that were not to be taken out of the library as they were hundreds of years old, and the loss of a single book would be devastating.

"Yeah. Had a really forgettable face too. Couldn't describe it even if you wanted me to - " The professor's jaw suddenly dropped. "Wouldn't that trait make for a really good assassin?! He could just do whatever he wants and no one would know it's him cause everyone would just forget his face!"

'I'm sure that's just you, not being able to keep track of the students' faces,' Seteth inwardly remarked.

"Anyway, I'ma head out now," the professor said, pulling out his dagger. "I just wanted to tell you about the morite possibility." He hurled his dagger back out the open window and waved at Seteth. "See ya!"

A second later, he vanished in a flash of purple lightning, leaving behind a scorch mark on the guest chair for Seteth to stare daggers at. And then he realized something.

"He never answered my question."

He never got to asking the professor about his possible connection to Morfis either.

Insufferable man.

. . .

The stars and moon hung low in the night sky as Byleth walked out of Conand Tower. With the House Task completed, all that was left was to return to the monastery and report to Lady Rhea. At the moment, however, everyone was tired after their fight with the kingdom's-soldiers-turned-bandits and the monster that the first son of House Gautier transformed into. A night's sleep at the tower's ground floor and then they would set off once morning arrived.

However, morning would be hours away from now.

Walking out of the tower, Byleth took a quick look around. Various members of his father's mercenary and knights that had accompanied the students to Conand Tower were stationed around the tower's vicinity to keep watch for the night.

But that wasn't what Byleth was after tonight.

His eyes roamed the area, moving from person to person, looking for a certain individual. It wasn't until he looked around the camp for the third time that he spotted the flaming-orange hair of the student he had been meaning to talk to ever since the monster fight earlier in the day.

"Sylvain."

He noticed his student's shoulders stiffen for a second before turning around.

"Yo, Professor!" Sylvain smiled in greeting. "Nice night, isn't it? The stars are especially beautiful right now."

Byleth couldn't help but frown at Sylvain's smile. He had seen the student's smile that he wore around the monastery enough times to know that it was…what was the word that Dorothea called it? 'Plastic'? In any case, Sylvain's current expression seemed even more forced than the usual ones that he would wear around.

"Your brother," Byleth started, taking a few steps closer to the student. "How are you feeling?"

"Yeesh, straight to the point, huh, Professor? No thought for subtlety," Sylvain laughed. Just like his smile, it seemed forced. "I would say that being that blunt wouldn't make you popular with the girls, but you don't seem to have much of a problem in that category. Making me jealous, Professor."

There were indeed quite a few students that came to him after class for more help, the vast majority of them being female. But most of the help that they needed was in the physical department, such as their forms when practicing with a weapon, and most of the students did not meet his standards. The only students that could go through his physical strength training regimen were the ones in the three main Houses. None of the students, male or female, in the general course could make it past the first half.

He'd have to work on that later.

"Wow, not even a denial," Sylvain coyly whistled. "What's your secret?"

Byleth thought for a moment. "…I don't like centipedes or any insect that has more than eight legs."

A crack appeared in Sylvain's mask as he snorted in laughter. "That's not what I meant, Professor."

"You asked me for my secret," was Byleth's response, unsure of what was so humorous. Surely xarantaphobia and scolopendrphobia were common phobias.

"Okay, I guess that's on me for not being very specific. But I guess that's just part of your charm, Professor."

"Answering questions?"

"No - yeah." Sylvain quickly corrected himself and lightly shook his head. "Yeah, let's go with that, Professor."

Byleth, not impressed with Sylvain's attempt to derail the topic of conversation, stood silent and stared at his student. Evident by Sylvain's uneasy demeanor, he knew that the professor wasn't going to let the first topic go.

"Look, Professor." Sylvain ran his fingers through his hair and let out a tired sigh. "I get what you're doing, and I appreciate it. Really, I do. But I'm fine."

"You participated in the fight that killed your brother," Byleth replied.

His student let out a hollow laugh. "You really don't mince words at all, do you, Professor?" He sobered up and put his hands into his pockets. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. I might as well have killed him with my own hands. But trust me when I say that I don't regret it. As he was, he was only my brother in name, and I'm more relieved that he's gone to not taint the Gautier name any longer."

It was obvious that despite his words, Sylvain held some remorse for his late brother. Byleth was about to comment on it when he paused. For some reason, he could hear Dorothea's voice in the back of his head, telling him to know when to push a topic and when to drop one. Since the voice in his head sounded a little irritated, he decided that now would be an example to drop the topic.

And so he did.

"Very well," Byleth finally said. "However, if you ever wish to talk, you may come find me at any time. You are my student, so I will always have time to listen should you wish to speak."

It wasn't a lie either. In his time traveling with his father's mercenaries, he saw many of them break down after certain traumatizing kills or deaths. It was only due to them talking with someone, usually his father, to either vent or come to terms with whatever was troubling them.

Sylvain looked surprised at Byleth's offer, his eyes widening for a second before settling down into one to his usual grin. "Damn, Professor. I think I'm starting to understand how and why you're so popular. Made my heart flutter for a second there." He walked past the Byleth and back towards the camp, but not before lightly hitting Byleth on the arm. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, Prof."

Moments later, Byleth was alone in the dark field. He stood still for a while, wondering if he did what a professor was supposed to do. Even months into the job, he was still learning how to do things since there wasn't anyone there to show him the ropes. Professor Manuela was incapacitated, Professor Hanneman was away from the monastery in his study of Crests, and Professor Robin was just…odd. None of them would be able to assist him at the moment.

Having done what he wanted to do, he began walking back to the camp to turn in for the night, unaware of the eavesdropper just beyond the edge of the treeline.

"Do you truly mean that, Professor?" Edelgard asked more to herself than anyone else. "Would you truly listen to our burdens?"

With a heavy sigh, Edelgard walked away, once again feeling as if she held the weight of the world on her shoulders.

. . .

In one of the corners of the monastery, three figures met under the cover of the night. The moon was hidden behind a blanket of clouds. Numerous torches were lined up against the monastery walls, illuminating the grounds, but the figures kept themselves to the shadows. They stilled and kept completely silent as a patrol unit passed by.

"It's finished, just as you asked," the first one finally said.

A wide grin formed on the second one's face. "That's perfect." He passed a folded paper to the first. "Would you be able to set this up tomorrow?"

There was a few seconds of silence as the first person's eyes scanned the paper. "I can, but it will take time. There are always a pair of eyes in the room no matter the hour. The earliest that we can execute the plan would be the day after tomorrow."

The third person reached out and took the paper from the first person. "Oooh, I was wondering what you were planning on doing, but this?" A dark laugh. "This'll definitely work."

"It's like you doubted me," the first person drawled.

"This one, perhaps - " the second one said, placing a hand on the third's head. " - but not once did I ever doubt your skills."

The first one grinned. "I knew there was a reason why you're my favorite."

"Aww, I'm flattered. Truly," the second one laughed.

The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, shining a silver light down on Claude's face. He then removed his hand from Hilda's head as Professor Robin plucked the paper out of her hands. He clenched his fist around the sheet of paper, and when he opened it again, it was burnt to ashes that scattered in the wind.

"I think Professor Byleth's group is returning tomorrow night, so we can start the plan the next morning at breakfast," Hilda said. She then crossed her arms. "You guys are letting me go first, right? I called dibs."

"Of course. Without your acting skills, no one would suspect us to be the perpetrators," Robin amiably said. "People wouldn't believe me - I don't know why they don't trust me - and if Claude sides with me, they'll think that he's in on it as well. But you? You have influence among the students."

Stars practically danced in Hilda's eyes as she gleefully clenched her fists. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

"Damn right it will," Claude agreed. "Now, let's head back to our rooms before Seteth finds out and throws a fit, yeah?"

After a quick exchange of "Good night"s, the three of them split apart in different directions leaving behind no trace of them ever having met up.

. . .

. . .

Hilda would totally be the enabler in any Claude-Robin shenanigans and no one can convince me otherwise. So long as she only has to put in the absolute minimum effort.

More explanations on magic because the game doesn't explain any of it and my brain refuses to let it be such a vague concept.

Robin is going to give Seteth an aneurysm one day.

Byleth is doing his best with social norms while being the dense dork that he is.

Thank you all for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing!