Hello. I've always wanted to try and write in the surreally entrancing manner you find in dream sequences, but I've never been any good. I figured it was finally time to tell me what you think - I'm always looking to improve. Anyway, let's go!
Summary: The memories weren't easily suppressed, but Lysithea managed well enough. Every now and then, however, the terrors of her past rampage within her mind. Such was the scene Byleth found himself walking into.
The hellish atmosphere before Lysithea had every right to be a nightmare. The alien technology plastered across the walls were more than enough to unnerve even the coldest of hearts. Implements waiting to claim their next souls were long since stained by the blood of their previous victims. The crust of unspeakable bodily fluids and flesh upon the ground seemingly fused into the walls, a by-product of the vicious experiments conducted within. Such sight could easily drive the coldest of hearts to fear – it had done, the braver of the chosen few driven to insanity by the perverse evils that permeated those walls.
Lysithea was no different. A weak grip failed to stop the trembling in her arms, a foul combination of tears and sweat falling to the floor. The frail cloth that could barely be called a robe had already been dirtied far beyond recovery; there was no room in the purple-haired girl's mind to care as another's blood was smeared upon it as she fell. All that mattered at that moment was the monster before her and how to escape it.
Yet what was she to do? In the face of incomprehensible magic and blades that struck with inhumane accuracy, Lysithea was easy prey. Having never been the faster nor strongest of her family, she would be nought but a corpse by the time she reached the doorway. If the rumours she had come across were correct, perhaps she wouldn't even have that much mercy shown. A single glimpse at the gore surrounding her brought forth tales of horrific creatures birthed from their kin to the front of her mind. In the face of such vile imagery, Lysithea's body refused to move in anything more than a pained shiver.
The touch of bone upon her face chilled Lysithea, spindly fingers too thin to be healthy caressing her as if she were a doll. Her face threatened to curl inward at the foul scent of the man's breath, yet Lysithea forced it into submission. Even the tiniest twitch could be construed as disobedience. Lysithea had seen the machines they use on the disobedient children, and she never wanted to see them again.
"One last chance… I'd hate to consider this a failure after all the effort we've spent." The words sent a shiver running down her back, crooked teeth revealed in a wrinkled smile at Lysithea's discomfort. It wasn't so unreasonable a reaction, looking back. Surely one who was wicked enough to concoct such inhumane experiments would find pleasure in their suffering. "We've come so far, there's just one missing factor! I'm certain of it! And you, my darling, are the key to completing this puzzle. Doesn't that make you so excited?"
Lysithea wouldn't have the chance to respond, for her throat was clutched in a hand far too muscular to belong to her tormentor. Desperately turning her glance upwards, a choked gasp was all the purple-haired girl could manage as she saw the pale figure warp and distort, grotesque muscles bulging until nothing remained but a bloodied beast. Hurled through the crumbling floor with immense force, Lysithea could only widen her eyes as the world melted around her.
Left in a barren void, all control left Lysithea. Helplessly watching as red, blue and green left her veins, it took all her effort to prevent her organs from escaping their broken cage. Life leaked from her wrists and love, from her chest. The colours sought to drive her insane. If Lysithea had been subjected to them any longer, she very well may have lost her mind.
The voices would not let Lysithea escape her torment so easily.
"Found your hiding place!"
The first ghost tore at her skin, burgundy and vermillion flying free of melted skin. The second roared and joined, staring upon crystal eyes with tainted love. Every soul that Lysithea had ever known, had ever lost, leapt into a wild fray. They were starved, and the sight of such precious meat forced their hands. With what little strength remained, Lysithea reached out gentle hands, only to find her
arm clipped off. She tried to speak, but all that came was an anguished howl.
"Rise from bed, my darling. Let me see you again. Let me kill you again!"
"Numb your senses! Tighten up that playful smile!"
"Eat up! If you're lucky, you will rot!"
"I'll reclaim what's rightfully mine! My tomorrow shall be built upon your flesh!"
Their voices became a cacophony, grating upon shattered ears. Lysithea no longer had a mouth that could reply. Stripped down to her core, the thin love within was bare for all to see. Lost in a cloud of scarlet, cyan and white, her being was but spilt wine.
The violence was familiar. Though painful beyond measure, the touch of their fingers remained bittersweet. As they broke her down to the cell in their anguish, Lysithea could feel no anger for them. They merely envied the warmth to her hands. Even if her hair grew unruly and her brain merged with the world, Lysithea was still alive – that made her the perfect human in their eyes.
Quaffed down along with the pus of thoughts, the bucket of love that was Lysithea found itself swelling as it evolved.
Lysithea had to stifle her cry as she shot up from the bed. Though the moonlight was harsh upon her exhausted eyes, the white-haired girl lacked the strength to be annoyed. All she could was sit silently, taking in the warmth of her surrounding as much as possible. There was no blood to be seen, no ghosts seeking her death. Those who experimented upon her were long gone… or at least, they weren't so foolish as to attack her within Garreg Mach's walls.
That didn't stop her from screaming at the knock upon her door. The rational part of her brain quickly reminding Lysithea that a kidnapper wouldn't knock, however, quickly had her scrambling to open the door. Even so, the trembles wracking her body refused to settle as she turned the handle, sweat dripping as she was greeted by nothing.
"H-hello? Is someone there?" she hesitantly called out, her voice trapped somewhere between a whimper and a whisper. It was hardly the most professional of responses, but reaching her typical collected state would require far more energy than Lysithea could muster. Fortunately, her surprise visitor didn't seem too off-put by the uncharacteristic question.
"Indeed. A gho-" Byleth began, only to receive a glimpse of his charge's face. Though it didn't show on his features, the words now far too playful died upon his lips. "It is your Professor. I heard strange noises. Are you okay?"
"I… have seen better nights." Was all the white-haired girl managed to mumble. Considering how haggard her appearance was, Byleth would've been blind to believe otherwise. It was why he didn't speak as he grabbed Lysithea by the arm, the girl's cry of surprise silenced by the closing door. Nought save the owls outside her window got to hear Lysithea's yelp as she was held within the professor's grip, only to be silenced as she was gently placed in her bed. "P-Professor? What are you doing? Y-you can't just barge into a woman's room on a whim like that!"
"You have had a nightmare. You would bottle those feelings up. Many would." Byleth easily replied, shifting the curtains so that a ray of light shone upon the knife he inspected. To engage in strange behaviour like that as if it were ordinary, Lysithea's professor was proving himself stranger by the day. "Bottled emotions can lead to stress. Stress can lead to poor performance. Poor performance can lead to death. It's better to share."
"And you think I would share my feelings with you? Not only a teacher, but one who I've known for a matter of days at most?" Lysithea bit back. While she may not have fully recovered, the absurdity of the situation did much to sober the white-haired girl. "I will tell you this much, Professor. There are things I have yet to share with my classmates, let alone what essentially amounts to a stranger. If you believe I would so easily come crying into your arms, then you are greatly mistaken."
"…I know. If I weren't a stranger, I wouldn't approach." The dismissive reply caused Lysithea's eyebrow to rise, Byleth giving a gentle shrug. With the way he casually flipped the knife in his hand, he should've cut an intimidating figure. At that moment, however, Byleth looked more inviting than he ever had before. Lysithea blinked owlishly – with thoughts like that, perhaps she needed to get her head checked out. "That is the important part. If you told your classmates, they would remember. They would look at you and remember what you said. Maybe, they would treat you differently. Telling is a risk. Depending on the person, leaks are possible."
"And are you implying that telling you would be any different?" Lysithea dismissed in turn. "You speak as if you are not in the same position. As a professor, you are duty-bound to report anything of concern to your higher-ups. Is that not true? We must face each other every day; what is to say you would not gaze upon me was others would?"
If there was any response she was expecting, it wasn't the scoff that came from Byleth's lips. Nor was Lysithea prepared for the knife that plunged into the wood just beside her head. If she had been even a centimetre to the left, she wouldn't have survived such a wound.
"Indeed, I am a professor. Before that, I am a mercenary. This is a job like every other." Byleth slowly explained. Leaning back, it was plain to see why he was titled the Ashen Demon. Shrouded in darkness without an ounce of emotion in his voice, it was as if Hell had sent Byleth to the surface. "Should someone pay me greater, I will not hesitate to end your lives. So long as nobody does, I have no reason to harm you. Do you understand what that implies? I do not care enough to tell. I do not care enough to remember. Unless you wish me to, I have no reason to act on or even acknowledge your words beyond tonight."
His voice may not have contained any emotion, but the words alone were more than frosty. Lysithea wasn't going to challenge them though. He was but a member of the Bladebreaker's mercenaries, a man roped into being a professor for reasons even he didn't seem to comprehend. It wasn't a massive leap in logic to assume Byleth would have little reason to worry for the children thrust into his care. From how brazenly the blue-haired man had thrown the knife now lodged in Lysithea's wall, it wasn't difficult to envision him taking down the entire year. With so many sons and daughters of nobles, it wasn't impossible that someone could be willing to pay the price.
Despite that… revelations as worrying as those somehow managed to put Lysithea's anxiety at ease. Perhaps it was the ruthless logic that dictated Byleth's words. They certainly lent credence to Byleth's claim of not caring enough to spread the information. Regardless of the implications, Byleth's reasoning made him a more inviting choice compared to any of the other Garreg Mach staff. If Lysithea restricted the knowledge she provided to the basics, then there was no reason to suspect he would discover the truth.
"Alright then. There are times where… I'm haunted by the souls of my family. Those who failed to survive the… times where we were attacked, kidnapped." It was strange, to say the least. Lysithea expected there to be a lot more struggle trying to force the words out. Much to the contrary, they seemed to flow from her lips without much issue. The white-haired girl liked to think the surprise hadn't been shown on her face, but Byleth's quiet noise of acknowledgement didn't make it likely. "House Ordelia is no stranger to being attacked. Those within the Golden Deer assume that I'm an only child; in truth, my other siblings have all died. Some peacefully… some less so."
And she could still hear the whirs of incomprehensible technology merging with their dying screams. Sweet voices soon choked by their own blood as their flesh was mutilated beyond reason. Those who died quickly were blessed; treated as possible successes, those who survived could only look forward to further inhumanity. The echoing cascade of noise threatened to crack her skull open.
Lysithea never realised that she was hyperventilating until she felt a strong grip fall across her. Looking from the arm now hugging her to the stoic face of Byleth, Lysithea bit back the sound of fear that threatened to burst forth. Even if he wasn't the friendliest of people, his body was still warm. So long as he was offering, Lysithea might as well bask in it while she could.
"I understand your pain. I have witnessed many die. Assassination, battle, age – I have seen much." Byleth muttered and perhaps it was a mere mirage, but Lysithea would swear there had been a hint of bitterness to his face. In less time than it took to blink however, there was only the blue-haired man's usual stoniness to be found. "I envy you somewhat."
"That's hardly something I want to be hearing." Lysithea pouted, curling into herself. If Byleth was annoyed by the way she subconscious pushed closer to him, he didn't show it. His eyes were too busy lost in the distance, watching a battle long gone.
"In the world of mercenaries, we cannot grieve. Our lives are constantly at risk." Byleth muttered. "We cannot afford to show emotion at death. It is a constant. People come and go like the breeze. You can feel the pain of your loved ones. You carry them in your heart. That is something to be happy for."
"I… suppose that's correct." Came the gently muttered response. "Even if the nightmares aren't welcome, the thought of forgetting my family… that would be a horror beyond words. To view people as expendable – I don't think I could ever attain that mindset."
"You shall not need to. An open heart is no weakness. It is natural to grieve." Byleth was quick to agree. One would expect he would show a little more ambivalence, especially considering Byleth's extreme stoicism. From the way he talked, it was almost as if he couldn't show any more emotion, a golem envying its creator. "It is also important to find the best way to grieve. Talking to me may make no difference. Pour your feelings into a letter, sing, dance, garden – everyone grieves differently. My father used to take me fishing when someone died. He said it was for me. It never really was."
That wouldn't be too difficult. If there was one thing about Garreg Mach other than the Officer's Academy, it was the sheer variety of activities available to students. With the freedom granted to its residents, it was almost a case of simply asking. There were many a case where the food in the dining hall had been partially prepared by students, for better or for worse.
"Maybe… it's expensive to enter, but I could try going to the sauna. Apparently, it's one of the best in all Fodlan." Lysithea mused with a yawn. There had only been positives coming out of the fortunate few who had managed to procure a rare ticket. not only was the sauna beyond bliss, but the monastery had decided to surround it with a whole selection of other beauty services. It mattered not if the price for entering the sauna was near ridiculous, the experience was no doubt worthy of its investment. "Nothing could be… more relaxing than a spa day."
"Would you like me to procure a ticket?" Byleth's question caused Lysithea to sleepily turn her eyes up, only to be met by complete seriousness. "They offer a staff discount. It is unlikely that I will use it. Might as well let another benefit."
"Are you serious, Professor? They're still… expensive." Lysithea questioned, earning herself a curt nod. "That would be amazing. You can't take your… offer back now… understand?"
"I shall do my best to secure one in the morning. Do not boast about it. I fear there will be concerns if news broke out." Byleth warned. As exhausted as her mind was, Lysithea couldn't stop the chuckle that came at such an image. With the fearsome figure her professor cut, the thought of him being scolded like a child by the Archbishop was entertaining beyond measure.
Byleth watched silently as slumber took the girl, the fear across her face melted away in place of no small amount of amusement across her face. Hopefully, that would be adequate enough to fend off the nightmares for a single night. Come the morning, it was up to Lysithea to ensure the rest of her nights passed as peacefully.
"…What an unfortunate position." It took several seconds, but Byleth's quandary quickly made itself apparent. With how Lysithea had fallen asleep, she was practically falling across his lap. While manhandling the child would be no difficult task, it would be a step back if Byleth were to awaken her again. As he glimpsed to the moon outside the window, the smallest of sighs could be heard. "Very well. I suppose there is little choice."
It wasn't the most comfortable of sleeping positions, but it was far nicer than some of the ways in which Byleth had to sleep with the mercenaries. The plush mattress beneath him practically beckoned him to the sleeping realm the second he relaxed his senses. In barely a breath, both adult and child were lost to, if not entirely pleasant dreams, dreams far sweeter than they would've had alone.
It was fortunate that Byleth was the first to awaken come the morning. One didn't need to be a genius to understand the pain that would be awakening to Lysithea's scream of embarrassment.
Heh, that seems good enough for now. As you can probably tell, this is meant for pretty early in the game. I guess I've shown bits and pieces, but I really wanted a oneshot that focused on Lysithea and Byleth's relationship improving. However unusual the method, I'm please with how this turned out. Of course, it's the same as always; I aim for oneshots that can be enjoyed as individual pieces unless specifically stated as directly related to another.
Super hero time! See you next time!
