Hello again, dear friends. I hope you are all doing well.

I originally planned on this chapter being longer. I wanted to include the entirety of "An Inevitable Encounter", but when I added everything with the normal Three Houses events and the shenanigans from Rook and the gang it really seemed to drag on. As such, this could be considered the first half of "An Inevitable Encounter".

Otherwise, there's not much else to say. Expect some more bonding between our trusty heroes, introduction to a sleepy goddess, and a splash of fighting (fair warning, it's a bit descriptive, but not terribly so).

With that, please enjoy the third chapter of Case Study: Fodlan.

Remire Village looked about how Rook expected. The buildings were robust with brick walls and wood paneled roofs. They were scattered along wherever the town's path bent. Aside from the consistency of their size and shape, it was clear how each inhabitant paid special attention to their abode. Some patriotic homes had Adrestrian banners bolted to the walls, some were painted to stand out from the crowd, and many had flowers ranging from a few tucked by the windowsill to whole gardens. A low stone wall surrounded the village. It's age was evident from the moss and lichen that creeped between the cracks of the stone. A few buildings stood distinctly from the rest. The church was centrally located with its steeple peering over the village. A wide and shallow building, which Rook assumed to be the town hall, was tucked between the church and a well-decorated home.

The paths into Remire all ended up crossing by the well where Byleth was resting. She was gnawing at an apple, watching her father's horse drink deeply from the trough by the stable. Jeralt was catching up with the hostler. They had a fair history, Byleth's old man having gotten the horse from him.

Byleth always wanted to have her own horse. The hostler was even kind enough to train her riding skills, but the horses were never fond of Byleth. There was something about her that perturbed them. They never bucked her off or were violent, but there was a distinct apprehension when she was in their presence. This aura was enough that Byleth could never bond with one, and so she had to settle for occasionally chauffeuring with her father.

As townsfolks passed by, greeting Jeralt and his mercenary company, they inevitably walked past Byleth. A few gave simple welcomes, but most ignored her altogether. Her silent attitude and gruesome moniker, the Ashen Demon, kept even the familiar folk of Remire at a fair distance.

Their fear did not bother Byleth much. It was a very effective tool in combat. Her reputation had grown enough that many of their quarries were disarmed as much by the rumors as by her swordplay. She was more than comfortable with this bolstering of her combat prowess at the expense of her social life… but she would be lying to say that she wasn't bored. Byleth looked around. Their company had arrived later in the evening and most townsfolk were already in bed. There were a few people still out and about. Byleth's attention was drawn to a particular man standing at the corner of a thoroughly bannered house.

Rook rubbed the cloth between his thumb and index. Even through his thick leather gloves he could tell that the banner was not lightly made. It's color had dulled and its age was apparent from the fraying ends and weather edges. One of the wings of the emblazoned Adrestrian eagle had clearly seen better days. Rook leaned in closer to take a picture with his helmet when a soft ping alerted him to someone's presence.

"Rook."

He spun around to see Byleth staring up at him. She was standing a little too close for Rook's comfort and he took a short step back.

"Hey Byleth. What's up?"

Byleth blinked. She didn't know how to put her request into words, her social inexperience coming once again to light. None came to her mind and her eyes flitted off to the side as she tried to find them.

Her face was incredibly stoic, but Rook could see in the near-microscopic changes what she was thinking. "Ah. You're bored too?"

Byleth nodded.

"I'm with you on that. Remire is nice enough, but I can't say it's anything new for my studies." Rook said, giving the banner a light swish before turning to Byleth. "Where's your father at?"

"He's busy."

Rook folded his arms, looking around. As Byleth did earlier, he observed that Remire was settling in for a quiet night. The shadows were long and the moon was just starting to peek over the Oghma be perfectly honest, Rook was tired too. He planned to find a secluded spot to sleep after looking at the banner, but he had not talked to Byleth since the third day of their journey. As such, he disliked the idea of turning away the lonely girl. Besides, Ken wanted more scans and this was a perfect opportunity.

"That's a shame, I was hoping there would be someone to show me around the village." Rook said.

"You haven't seen all of Remire?"

"Not the whole thing, no."

"How? It's not that big."

Rook poked the banner. "I'm a historian, Byleth, and that means I must pay special attention to the mundane. That attention takes time."

"Oh." Byleth nodded, blinked, and then looked up at him again. "Want me to show you?"

"If you would be so kind."

Byleth led Rook through the winding paths with practiced efficiency. Rook could tell that her surefootedness was derived from familiarity and this was confirmed by her unexpected verbosity. Byleth's descriptions were often single words or simple phrases, but not for Remire. She had bits and pieces to say about everything they passed from the church to the wall to the well. There were small memories, comments on changes, and little extra details. Rook could tell that Byleth cherished Remire, even if the feeling was not mutual.

The evening waned into a heavy darkness. Rook had bid goodnight as they re-entered the town and Byleth made her way back to the town's center. Jeralt was leaning against the well and perked up when he saw her approaching.

"There you are. What were you up to?"

"Sorry. I was showing Rook around."

Jeralt shook his head. "No need for apologies, kid, I'm glad you found something to burn the time. How's the big man holding up?"

"He's fine."

"Good to hear. I wish I got to see him, I have a feeling he'll disappear before the morning."

"Oh." Byleth looked down. "I forgot he was leaving."

Jeralt smirked. "Eh, don't get too bummed. We're bound to run into him again. Good lads like him get around." He looked up at the moon. It was deep in the sky's embrace, its soft light making the quiet town glow in the night. He opened his mouth but Byleth's words filled the silence first.

"I hope we do. He's nice."

Byleth felt a hand settle on her shoulder. She looked up as the hand moved to ruffle her hair. "Let's get to bed, kid. We still got a while to go before we hit Faerghus."

"Well, this isn't creepy at all."

"It's effective! It's much easier to scan an idle target, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"And now you can have your full attention to attuning the scan to the Eisner girl instead of small talk! Win-win, I say."

Rook sighed. Ken was right about it being effective, but watching a girl sleep just didn't rest well with him. "Maybe my scanner was just on the fritz for a second."

"Impossible!" Ken huffed, "My equipment is unparalleled! It does not go 'on the fritz'! I may not be a field agent, but I know when somethings afoot!"

Rook stalked silently toward the mercenaries' tents. He was collecting a few topography scans before turning in for the night when it flew off the rails. To Ken's credit, the man was very sharp. Rook thought it was an equipment malfunction, but Ken noticed that it was the same disruption they had gotten when initially scanning Byleth.

Despite Ken's brilliant deduction, Rook was not entirely comfortable with what he was instructed to do next.

"There may be something afoot, sir, but I'm not a huge fan of watching a girl sleep. I don't think her father would be either." He grunted.

"You don't have to watch her, Rook. Just get close enough to start a precision scan."

"That still gets me suspiciously close."

"Just outside the tent, I reckon, now stop being a sissy and get in there."

Rook kept low, a daunting feat with his enormous height, weaving through the camp until he came across the pair of tents belonging to a certain father-daughter duo. Settling himself low, he turned on his scanner and focused in on the anomalous Byleth.

A few twitches, a few dials turned, a few adjustments…

"Get away from the tent!"

Rook spun around quickly before realizing the voice was coming from his helmet.

"Sir?"

"Skedaddle! Now!" Ken said, panic in his voice. "There's something going on with that Eisner girl! I'm picking up a new formation, there's-"

Ken's voice fell to the wayside as a terrible pain gripped Rook's head. Gasping out, he grasped his helmet and fell to the ground. He could feel an intense burning sensation spreading throughout his body. It scorched from the tip of his toes to the hairs on his head. Rook tried to push himself up, but the earth had disappeared and a void gave way, his consciousness drifting with it.

This vegetative state did not last long. Before Rook could slip out of his mind completely, he felt two pricks in the back of shoulders. Cold flowed through his veins and quenched the terrible burning. He had felt this before. Ken must have activated his armor's dimensional anchors.

"Wakey-wakey, Rook, you still with me?"

Rook grunted and set out his hands once again. This time they collided with the ground and he rolled himself over.

"Kinda. What just happened?" Rook looked around. He was no longer in the slumbering camp of hired hands but in a vastly different location. It was a large antechamber with towering pillars and carefully hewn walls. The whole room was bathed in a subtle green hue. The corner where Rook was prone was dark and shadowed. In fact, nearly the whole room was imperceptible, save for a massive throne. "Uhh… sir? I need detail. Preferably now."

"Me too, Rook, I'm trying to figure it out." Ken said, "Some dimensional space opened up from the Eisner girl and sucked you in."

"Intentionally?"

"I don't think so. In fact, she looks about as lost as you are."

Rook had a double take as he saw Byleth standing at the foot of the throne. He retreated further into the shadows when he saw that they were not alone. A young girl with long green hair and a fantastically embellished dress was gazing down at Byleth. To his surprise, the girl looked just as confused as the two of them. It seemed no one was expecting this predicament.

"Orders, Mr. Oddman?"

"Stay put. I'm trying to set up something to get you out of there, but you might as well observe while you're here."

"Understood." Rook nodded. He turned up the audio detection of his helmet. This did little to help; there was something in the atmosphere of the room that made it impossible for him to hear their dialogue. They were clearly talking to each other, but no sound came from their mouths.

"Alright, I got something." Ken's voice rang in his ears again. "Gonna kick your anchors into overdrive and pull you back to the station. I think that… oh, great, what is it now?"

Rook fell back to the floor, cursing angrily. Before he could vocalize any more of his frustration, the pillar he was hiding behind began to crumble. It was not cascading from the top. It appeared as if every small piece that made up the green stone was slowly turning to dust. Looking around, he noticed the whole room going into a similar state. To his shock, both the girl and Byleth seemed to had fallen into a deep slumber, completely unperturbed by the violent change in their surroundings.

"Mr. Oddman! Details!"

"The dimensional space is destabilizing! Tuck and tumble!"

Rook felt his insides turn out as his consciousness slipped away once again.

Byleth awoke with a start. The dream of that mysterious girl had come again. It had gone further this time. It had always been a young slumbering girl, but she had never spoken to Byleth before.

"Kid! You alright?"

Byleth had been so wrapped up by the strange dream that she did not notice her father. He had both hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes with worry. He must have tried to shake her awake.

"I-I think so, father."

Jeralt raised an eyebrow. "It sure doesn't seem like it. You were tossing and turning like mad."

Her sheets, blankets, and pillow were strewn across the room. It looked like a whirlwind had passed through. Jeralt scoffed lightly as he looked around at the mess before his eyes returned to his daughter, still filled with concern. "Get dressed and meet me in the inn's side room."

He turned and left without confirmation. Never one to idle from her father's beckon, Byleth slid out of bed. She quickly tossed all the bedding into a pile and pulled on her armor before entering the aforementioned room. A simple breakfast was laid on the table where Jeralt sat. He looked up at her.

"That was fast."

Byleth nodded.

"Were you having that dream again?"

Another nod. Byleth took the seat across from her father and started on her food. "Yes. It was about that young girl."

Jeralt looked at her thoughtfully, forking more of the inn's breakfast into his mouth. "You've described her to me before. I swear I've never met anyone like that…"

Before more words could be exchanged, one of the mercenaries burst into the room.

"Jeralt! We have trouble! Bandits are set upon the village!"

Jeralt stood up sharply, his chair scraping across the floor. "What? Where? When did they get here?"

"Just now, sir!"

Jeralt looked at Byleth, his face twisting unpleasantly. "We'll talk more later, kid. Get your weapon and let's go."

The two rushed out of the inn after the mercenary. They made their way to the gate before being stopped by a curious looking trio. One of the three, a young man with a muss of blonde hair, black tunic, and an embroidered blue cape stepped forward.

"Pardon for the intrusion sir, but we come with a situation most dire."

Jeralt touched two fingers to his head as if he had come down with a headache. "What in all of Fodlan are a bunch of kids doing here at this hour?"

"The bandits I mentioned, sir." The mercenary from earlier interjected. "They had chased these three here and are now threatening Remire."

"We would be extremely grateful if you could aid us." The blonde haired boy spoke again.

"I'm not about to abandon anyone to bandits, much less the village." Jeralt said grimly. He sized up the three once again. To the sides of the boy who had spoken were a young woman and another young man. They both had similar tunics, but the other boy with dark hair had a gaudy golden cape whereas the white-haired girl's was red. It was strangely familiar to Jeralt.

"Those uniforms…" Jeralt pondered. Before he could investigate further, he heard yelling on the other side of the village. "Agh, they're already here! Can you three fight?"

"Yes sir." The young woman said, producing an axe from behind her back. "We are well armed and we would be more than willing to help in the defense of this village."

"I dunno, hiding with the townsfolk sounds swell right now." The black haired boy said with a smirk. He was met with cold glares from his two companions and put his hands up defensively. "Jeez, I'm kidding! I'll help too."

"Good." Jeralt's eyes narrowed. He turned to Byleth. "I'm going to rally the company. Take these three and get us a bearing on the bandits."

Byleth nodded.

Combat was rhythmic for her. The pace of battle was what she had instead of a pulse. She had led the three strangers to the edge of town where the bandits had begun their raid. After being assured they could handle themselves, Byleth practiced her art.

Slice through one and cut through another. Parry, dodge, and return. Don't blink, don't hesitate, and don't slow down. The Ashen Demon tore through the bandits. She weaved a strike into the gut of one, a sick gurgle escaping his lips. She kicked his chest hard, feeling the crunch of broken ribs from beneath her boot before extracting her sword. Another one approached to her left and she blocked his wild swing with a professional grace. Sidestepping a follow up, the Ashen Demon swung at the man's knees. A spray of blood erupted and the man collapsed to the side. Even the cold earth was not a respite as Byleth brought down her sword, decapitating the man without a blink of hesitation.

The three strangers were handling themselves well and the tide of the battle rested firmly in their favor when Jeralt and the other mercenaries arrived to the fight. The remaining bandits were dispatched as swiftly as they had appeared.

Byleth exhaled when she looked around and no opponents within reach.

"You'll die!"

She spun around to see one of the bandits spring up from the ground. He grabbed an axe off of a dead comrade and charged the white haired-girl from earlier.

It all happened too quickly. Byleth felt the ground moving underneath her feet, the whistle in her ears, and the thud of an axe.

Or, she thought she felt it. Instead, she heard a familiar voice, young and sharp, erupt in her mind.

"Honestly! What are you accomplishing with that little stunt? It's like you're trying to get me killed, you fool!"

Rook peered at the battle in confusion. Everyone had stopped fighting. More than that, everyone had stopped. Jeralt's horse was frozen mid-gallop, mercenaries were halted mid-stride, but more importantly…

Byleth had disappeared.

And now that I have pruned this for submission, I feel as if I should have just had one, big chapter instead. I'm trying to find a healthy balance between the amount that you are comfortable reading for a chapter and what I am comfortable writing. Any feedback on this would be greatly appreciated. If you like long, epic chapters, I would be more than happy to try my hand at it. If the current length is satisfactory, that is just as good.

Reviews are welcomed and encouraged. Tell me what you like and don't like; I will take it into account.

And of course, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed.

Go in peace,

Louproxy