"-You promised to keep me informed after Tailtean, and now I find you have been trying to resurrect Sothis for centuries, behind my back?" Seteth hissed out. Even behind the closed doors of Rhea's office, it would not be wise to test the soundproofing, no matter how much Seteth wanted to. Sitting across the table from him, Rhea's expression remained frustratingly neutral.
"How many times these past thousand years did you summon me from my vigil? How many times did you neglect to mention this experiment of yours?" Seteth pressed. "Why did you never tell me something this important?" Seteth could see something hiding behind Rhea's façade. He hoped it was guilt. "When did you stop trusting me?"
Seteth let his words simmer. Rhea bad habit of refusing to answer his questions had only gotten worse as the years had slipped past. "Rhea, I demand an answer."
"I did what I thought was right. I always did." Rhea muttered.
"IT WASN'T!" Seteth shouted as he slammed his hands down on the table. Rhea nearly jumped out of her seat. "You sound like the Agarthans when they rebuffed Sothis' warning of price their magic would reap!"
"This has nothing to do with those atrocities!" Rhea spat out. "I would never sacrifice hundreds upon thousands like they did. There are a thousand different ways this isn't remotely comparable to the abominations the Agrathans unleashed. How can you dare to accuse me of such…depravity?"
Seteth took a deep breath, before rubbing his temples. "Yes, you are correct. Calling your experiments necromancy was a bridge to far. I apologize." Seteth looked Rhea in the eye. "But that was not my point. You have been keeping things from me." He leaned on the edge of his seat. "Important things. Nigh-futile efforts. You seem indifferent to the potential consequences. For centuries, at the very least."
Rhea's eyes smoldered, but she sighed. "Yes, I apologize."
Seteth stood. "From now on, you will not hide anything from me."
"Yes."
Seteth felt his stare begin to soften, and forced it to remain firm. "You should have let her rest in peace." Rhea didn't say anything. Seteth placed a hand on her shoulder for a moment, before leaving Rhea to her thoughts.
In Rhea's audience chamber, Seteth saw Flayn pretending to be conspicuous at the opposite end of the room.
"Flayn!" Seteth called out. His daughter turned far too quickly for her to be innocent.
"Hello, Brother! How are you this fine afternoon?" Her voice sounded stiff, like she did when she wanted to hide something.
"How many times must I tell you not to eavesdrop?" Seteth asked. Flayn fidgeted.
"Brother, you never tell me anything important! Of course I'm going to listen in!"
Seteth sighed, "I don't tell you things that you don't need to know because-" the shadow's on the floor caught Seteth's attention. His one sided talk with Rhea had taken longer then he had expected. "Never mind that. We will discuss this later. I have an important meeting to prepare for."
Ignoring Flayn's protests, Seteth stalked down the hall to his office. "I will see you promptly at dinner!" as he shut his own office door, Seteth thought he heard a creak coming form Rhea's office, but paid it no mind.
As it turned out, Byleth and Jeralt had shown up late enough for Seteth to arrange himself professionally before the two entered his office. Jeralt looked haggard, with sleepless eyes and an unsteady posture. Byleth looked exactly like she did when Seteth had first laid eyes on her.
Seteth spoke to Jeralt first. "Before anything happens, I would like to give you my deepest sympathies. The loss of a loved one is a terrible scar to reopen."
Jeralt gave a stiff nod. Seteth returned to gesture.
"If you need more time to yourself and with your daughter, I can reschedule-"
"No." Jeralt's voice was laced with exhaustion that he did not bother to hide. "It's fine. Let's settle whatever business we need to."
"As you wish." Seteth kept his voice clipped but professional. "Your daughter has told me that she intends to stay at Garreg Mach for at least a year. We are…" Seteth paused to look at Byleth, who remained expressionless. Seteth did not let how unnerved it made him feel show.
"Well. I will not lie and say happy, but we are at very least obligated to pay her handsomely for any and all services rendered. As for yourself, I do not mean to press, but will you and the rest of your company be leaving?"
"No, I'll stay." Jeralt said. "I've avoided Garreg Mach for long enough. I was preparing to linger for a while when we marched here from Remiere, and that hasn't changed." Jeralt paused to rub the weariness from his eyes. "My company will take whatever jobs you hand out."
"I see." Seteth picked up a few papers, signed them, and handed the loose collection to Jeralt for inspection. "The contracts. You should find them to be standard issue. I'll leave them to you for inspection." Seteth turned to Byleth next. "Will you be joining your father, or do you have other plans? If it involves the church's affairs, or any more secrets, I must insist that you tell me."
"No," Byleth said. "None of your secrets. But I would involve myself with Garreg Mach."
"How so?" Seteth felt himself inch forward.
"It would be best if I take up a teaching position."
Seteth blinked. After a few seconds, he looked to Jeralt, who shrugged. Turning back to Byleth, he asked: "You want…to teach?"
"If I didn't interrupt yesterday's meeting, Rhea would have offered me a position as the head of any of the three houses."
Seteth worked his jaw, before pressing his lips into a thin line. "Just like that? She would have given you selection over an entire year of students, who all happen to be heirs to almost every major house or bloodline in Fódlan and beyond? You, a mercenary barely twenty years old?"
Seteth caught the hint of an upward twitch on Byleth's mouth. "Just like that."
"I-But-That is…"Seteth began to speak, but paused, before leaning his head down and rubbing his temples. "…Knowing who you are now, and what exactly Rhea hopes of you, that does make some sense, I suppose." Seteth looked up again. "And none of the students complained in your…previous lives?"
"I am perplexingly good at whatever job is given to me." Byleth said.
Seteth huffed. "If that is the case, which house would you like to lead?"
"None of them."
Seteth felt his lack of sleep start to catch up. He wondered if it showed on his face. Byleth was unreadable, and Jeralt was too exhausted himself to notice. "And why not?"
"It unduly prejudices the students to me, among other things. It would be best if I were to remain a combat instructor."
"I see." Seteth tapped his fingers on the desk. "That is…acceptable." Seteth rose from his seat and retrieved a few papers from his cabinet, before handing them to Byleth. "But you also remind me of a new problem. We lack three experienced professors to act as house leaders. Our other professor ran off from the battle you two stumbled into, and we have not heard from him since." Seteth raised an eyebrow at Byleth. "Such conduct is utterly unacceptable, and even if he bothered to show his face, we would dismiss him. Who would we ask to replace him if not you? Classes are beginning soon, and this is very short notice."
"Would you believe me if I told you it was Jeritza?"
"Please, do not joke about this." Seteth's eyes narrowed. "I have had to discipline the man twice since he came to us. Professor Jeritza is skilled enough in combat to overcome his crippling inability to conduct himself as a professor should, if just barely. The duties of a house leader are far more emotionally complex then that man has the…temperament for." Seteth loosened the grip on his chair when he noticed it had begun to crack. "The only people who would recommend him to lead a classroom setting are brash youths who think they are here to learn how to fight and nothing else, parents who hate their children, and sadists."
Byleth's mouth twitched. "Alois wouldn't be bad."
Seteth hummed. "Alois? I suppose he could…He doesn't have the wrong disposition, is personable enough to handle any problems the students might bring to him, and is skilled and experienced enough on the battlefield to oversee personal combat and officer training…Though his inability to wield magic does present a minor problem. Still, he is a more than adequate choice."
Seteth darted back to his selves to retrieve a few more papers. "I suppose Jeralt and his men can easily perform Alois' work as a knight. Assuming, of course, he accepts."
Seteth walked behind his desk, seeing that Byleth had already signed her paperwork. "Is there anything else you wish to discuss at this time?"
Jeralt looked to Byleth, who shook her head.
"Well, then our business for the day is concluded." Seteth sat down, before looking at Byleth. "I have questions. But I also have to manage Garreg Mach, and this term as already proving complicated. I trust there are no pressing issues I would need to know about?"
"Everything I could tell you isn't urgent. The information's delivery can be spread out across the coming weeks."
Seteth gave a curt nod. "Good. Though to be honest, I'm not sure how to approach any of this…time loop nonsense. I barely believe it myself."
"Neither do I, and I have to live it."
Seteth studied Byleth for a moment. It truly was eerie how little she emoted. A glance from Jeralt told him that even exhausted, the woman's father felt the same.
"…Well. For now, I have just one request for you." Seteth said looking at Jeralt.
"What." Jeralt said flatly.
"Get some rest." Seteth wondered how many times he'd heard the same words come from countless people in centuries past. "No matter what you think, your lack of sleep will do no favors for the fallen." Jeralt looked like was about to say something, but Seteth cut the weary man off before his excuses could come tumbling out.
"Trust me on this. I have lost my wife before. This state of yours will do no one any good."
Jeralt seemed ready to argue, but Byleth tugged his arm. "He's right dad." A flicker of emotion passed over her face. "Mom will still be here when you wake up."
Jeralt seemed to fight back tears, but nodded. As Seteth watched father and daughter walk away together, he felt something old tug at his heart.
Hanneman jumped up from his seat. He was expecting a visitor, but he had been so focused on preparing his Crest Analyzer that he had lost track of himself. Quickly shuffling to his door, he found Byleth waiting for him.
"Hello, Byleth. Was your forecast correct? Are you on a tenure track now?"
"Yes. Seteth signed the paperwork an hour ago. I will be a combat instructor."
"Well, if that is true, it's yet another correct mark for your tally of predictions. Up to twelve since you introduced yourself last night. Congratulations are in order, Professor." Byleth's entrance into Hanneman's life had been sudden, shaking the very foundations of his stable routine. To find the first recorded instance of the Crest of Flames in millennia was one thing, but to have it's barer know intimate details of his unpublished work and claim to have knowledge of the future with predictions and personal secrets to back it up was almost to much for Hanneman's heart.
"Well, I have thought of a few more questions since we last spoke, if you don't mind. How exactly does your Crest stabilize the fields of magical aftereffects and Crestological-"
"Before we begin that conversation, I have a small request of my own." Byleth said as she reached into her pocket, pulling out a piece of paper, which she handed to Hanneman. Written inside the note was a small list of seemingly unrelated ingredients. Some herbs, both magical and medicinal in nature, a small assortment of ingredients one could find at an apothecary, and a few odd minerals.
"Northern Sreng drought root, southwestern Adrestian zinc mixture, blue Morfis bean crop…" Hanneman muttered as he looked up and down the list. "What are these all for? I can't see much of a connection between all of these ingredients."
"They will be used to make a potion that can remove artificial Crests, among other things." Byleth said.
Hanneman's eyes snapped up. "What? Preposterous, utterly preposterous! I'm not sure I can count the ways that sentence is ridiculous! Even if we are to take your words at face value, some of these ingredients are incredibly rare, and-wait." Hanneman looked over the list again, his mind racing furiously. "Almyran poppy seeds? Brigid lotus fruit? These are Illegal, and dangerously addictive!"
Byleth cocked her head. "To get those ingredients, you will have to catch the merchant who isn't from Sreng in the marketplace. Her wagon has broken down in the alleyway just behind the blacksmith's shop, and will be there for the next hour while she gets it repaired."
Hanneman threw the list down at Byleth's feet. "I will have you know, Professor, that I may not be the most observant man around, but you will not use me as some unwitting mule for your drug deals!"
Byleth turned towards his shelves, picking up a piece of Umbral Steel he had collected.
"Professor! I demand you put that down, it is a valuable research material! I will not have you trample through my office, nor will I stand for this disrespect of my intelligence or my position! I demand-"
Magic swirled in Byleth's hands, rushing from the air into the Umbral Steel. The metal slowly bent, twisting itself into a smooth, spherical shape that fit in the palm of Byleth's hand. Hanneman stared in awe and confusion.
"You must discard the burden of what you think is possible." Byleth stretched out her hand, holding the small trinket out for her confounded colleague to take. The sphere was cool to the touch, and as Hanneman examined it, he discovered that etched on sphere's surface was the Crest of Indech.
As his fingers traced across the indentations, Hanneman felt something emanating from the metal. It was a magic that felt strange, but at the same time all too familiar. A sensation like swimming through a river enveloped his body, his limbs suddenly ready to flow swift like the rapids of the Airmid. Hanneman concentrated harder, feeling the answer at the tip of his tongue.
Finally, the answer came to him. His eyes shot open. "T-this…" Hanneman felt weak in the knees. He had spent decades trying to discover a breakthrough of this magnitude, only to have it handed to him on a silver platter. "T-this is a Crest…like an amulet that gives someone more magical power, but instead, this tiny miracle grants a Crest! If I am correct, it will give it's power to anyone, regardless of whether they have a Crest of their own or not!"
Hanneman panted out a few shallow breaths. He had barely spoken a sentence, but his excitement made it feel like those few short words were an entire thesis dissertation. "Do you know what this means? For my research? For the world? Can you make more? How did you make it? Can anyone with adequate material and magical ability create one of these…what should we call them? Signs of the Saints, perhaps? Can you only create a Sign of Indech, or can you make other crests?"
Byleth did not react to Hanneman's barrage of questions. "The vendor will be leaving Garreg Mach in forty-seven minutes. At this hour, it should take you thirty-two to reach her if you run."
Hanneman stared uncomprehendingly at Byleth, knuckles white as his fingers greedily clutched the Sign. Byleth stared back, unblinking.
The next thing Hanneman knew, his feet were pounding against the pavement faster then his own heartbeat. He ducked, weaved, and then pushed and shoved his way through the monastery's evening traffic, intent on purchasing dangerous, illegal, and addictive narcotics spitting distance away from the young, impressionable minds of Fódlan's next generation.
Ran through the gambit of moods on this one-super serious for real at the top, to Byleth and Hanneman go to White Castle at the end. Still, we've established a fair bit. Also, were gonna use a few more of those New Game Plus features, just you wait. Not all of them mind you, but I got something cooking. But yeah, no Dimitri this time. He'll show up sooner or later, you just have to give it a bit more time.
I had two versions of the Jeritza bit planned out. Here's the one I didn't go with:
Byleth: Hey Jeritza!
Jeritza: What.
Byleth: Do you want to be a house leader? You'd be able to have full control over an entire house's training regiment.
Jeritza: I-
Byleth: You'd also have to listen to the student's problems, help them deal with their doubts and fears, console them when they feel sad, spend hours every day of the week answering their questions, spend just as many hours going over paperwork, talk to their parents at PTA meetings without threatening to kill them or follow through with a previous threat to kill-
Jeritza: you lost me at hey.
Did some editing on previous chapters, mostly fixing a few messy sentences, also made a few details a bit clearer.
Broke through 2,000 views! Thanks everyone!
As always, reviews are appreciated.
