Darkness. It's dark. Another familiar environment that's filled with nothing but the unending void. Byleth knows she's dreaming, and she's quite aware of it. Each step she takes in this walk residing in her dreams often either haunts her with the ghosts of the past-or her own inner demon that had never ceased to be around her presence ever since of that long and forgotten day in her early childhood.

It's peculiar, in a way. Byleth knows that the demon that haunts her is her only companion that she can communicate with-a being who understands her, yet simultaneously taunts her all the very same. The mercenary knows it's a vicious cycle of infighting, a way of life that she has grown accustomed to (against her will) . She doesn't remember much about her past aside from the haunting words that were left from the tongues of the victims she had felled with her iron blade. She remembers each day that she forces herself into a new person each day-a life of a hired mercenary is ruthless.

Though, there is some serenity in the void of her unconsciousness. It shoves the guilt of her living life away, and she finds herself at times remembering vague memories of her past that she no longer is able to recall where exactly they came from. She remembers the views of flowers and lush green grass. She remembers the feeling of warmth from holding a hand, but she's unable to recall whom that hand belongs to. She remembers many details, such as the blade that struck a thief at the marketplace somewhere. Who was I protecting? Byleth monologues to herself-asking, always asking, yet not even the demon that resides with her answers.

Byleth wonders why the demon never answers when it comes to memories of the past. She knows that her own demon answers when it comes to bloodshed, anger, fear, and even hatred. Yet, when it comes to the peace she once had, it never answers. Many years of attempting to reconcile with herself-only to be met with uncertainty and silence; it drives her mad . Though, she accepts her fate of silence as a result. Perhaps it isn't time yet, she speaks for herself again, her internal voice reverberating into the darkness of her dreams.

"You're here again." a voice speaks towards her, "it seems you're thinking about something again."

Ah. Byleth knows where she is-she found a place of serenity, yet there was an intimidating aura from the person she speaks with. The teal-haired mercenary knows that the demonic entity within her own being is not the same person as the long-haired and emerald green-haired individuals that sits on a stone throne.

She remembers the first time she has encountered the emerald-haired girl, her matching eyes would stare right at her with piqued curiosity. Byleth remembers introducing herself. She remembers learning that they are born on the same day-the 20th day of Horsebow-Moon. It's coincidental, or so Byleth believes. Yet this familiarity she shares with this stranger simply cannot be coincidental. Though, she accepts her fate with her-intertwined like vines.

"I am," Byleth replies with her honesty, "you should know by now that I am always lost in my thoughts, Sothis."

Sothis hums to herself in response, her emerald irises continuously pinned onto the mercenary at the bottom of the steps. This, of course, is not the first time they have met. The last time was in a fray of relentless nightmares. Such nightmares often plagued the teal-haired mercenary, and often Byleth finds herself bombarded by the unyielding empathy of hers that she constantly forces herself to swallow down on a day-to-day basis. Byleth finds Sothis to be a blessing. Somehow, the green-haired girl is able to soothe the aches of the nightmares she deals with from working as a mercenary. It's kill or be killed in a violent world such as this.

It always feels relieving to have Sothis near her visage-her presence alone is equivalent to a warm embrace; like a mother soothing her upset child. In a way, Byleth finds Sothis to be a familial figure in her life-whether sisterly or motherly, it did not matter. It was because of the bonding with the other that allowed Byleth to remain much more composed than how she was in her youth. Turbulence was never a good thing-especially in terms of emotions.

"Of course," Sothis answers, carefully, "what you feel is what I feel. I know when you are upset without you needing to say as such."

Byleth remains silent. There wasn't much to say. It would be a waste of breath to repeat the same words she had always told her. The words that the "ghosts of the past" haunted her ever since she was a naive, oblivious girl learning the way of the sword. Byleth does not doubt that Sothis felt the phantom pain that ached within her chest and mind.

"Are you doubting yourself again?" the words of inquiry reverberate in the darkness, "you are questioning yourself quite a bit."

"Maybe." Byleth answers with a shrug, "it happens a lot when you kill to survive."

"Perhaps." Sothis sighs, and it is clear that she is mildly miffed at the idea that she has to coddle a grown woman, "but...you are too concerned about what was, and what will be."

"What was...and what will be?"

Byleth finds herself frowning. It's a complicated statement, but she understands-to some extent of what Sothis means. Of course, she is referring to the past and the future. Constant worry and despair about the past will never change the results of it, but worrying about the future as well will do no good. There was no way to predict how her fate will be like. "Of course," Byleth answers, feeling the words from Sothis neither comfort her nor torment her.

"It is time for you to wake up once more and to endure mortal life once again," Sothis begins to yawn slightly and she shakes her head slightly, "I will be here as per usual, though I shall have my nap."

Darkness begins to envelop the environment and a familiar voice reverberates into Byleth's ears. She doesn't find an opportunity to bid Sothis a temporary farewell (it seems like Sothis herself is aware of the situation).

"Hey kid, time to wake up."

Byleth groans softly as her body aches mildly from the stiff positioning she finds herself in. Exhaustion continues to gnaw at her body, but she finds herself fighting against the strain. Jeralt is beckoning for her. The teal-haired mercenary knows Jeralt can get a bit fussy when she isn't answering on time (unless she's sick of course) . Her finger rubs at her eyes, rubbing away the drowsiness of her body and immediately forcing herself sitting up, she allows the blood in her body to settle down. Getting up too fast would make her light-headed after all. Her hand reaches and runs through teal-colored locks of hair, allowing her digits to rid of any knots in her hair.

Once adjusted to reality, Byleth immediately gets up and meets her father. "Were you having that dream again?" she hears him questioning her, and she notices the way he peers at her with calm tenderness.

"I was dreaming about a young girl," Byleth answers-it wasn't a lie nor specific enough to give details about the girl she ended up talking to in her dreams.

Jeralt nods and Byleth notes the way he answers. "Right. I remember you mentioning her before." he pauses and then he speaks again, mindfully, "In any case, just put that out of your mind for now. The battlefield is no place for idle thoughts."

Right. Byleth muses to herself, remembering how he would always tell her this despite her remembering it to heart. It doesn't hurt to hear it again of course-a concerned father has his ways in protecting his only child after all. "Risking your life is part of the job for mercenaries like us," Jeralt speaks again, and Byleth nods, letting him know that she is listening, "Letting your mind wander is a sure way to get yourself killed. Anyways, our next job is in the Kingdom. It's far and we need to get going at dawn."

The Kingdom. Byleth remembers vaguely about the merciless, frigid weather in the kingdom. She knows she had mostly worked in the Empire's territory with some jobs here and there at the Alliance as well. It wasn't often that the Kingdom needed mercenaries-but they did exist, though not as abundant. Perhaps the knights there handled most of the duties.

Thoughts were interrupted when one of the other mercenaries in the group interrupt the conversation, dragging Jeralt out to deal with a mess. Byleth follows, seeing three colors in her visage-a contrast to the dull earthy hues she has grown accustomed to over the years. Red, blue, yellow. So awfully bright, the three individuals stuck out like sore thumbs. Though, Byleth finds herself staring at the silver-haired girl next to the blond-haired boy talking to Jeralt about the situation. Something about the girl mesmerized her.

The snowy hue of lilac eyes is what catches her attention the most. They were soothing, yet held much of an enigma. Byleth remains silent, but she immediately tenses ever so slightly when the purple-eyed girl stares back at her-almost as if she were judging her. "It's true." Byleth sees the girl look at Jeralt, hearing the blond-haired boy's voice silence as if to give her a chance to clarify the situation. "They attacked us while we were at rest in our camp."

Why...do I feel so calm? Byleth contemplates to herself, averting her gaze from the person she was staring at. It doesn't make any sense. She's a stranger to me.

"I hope you're ready, kid," Jeralt speaks, interrupting Byleth's thoughts.

Byleth blinks and nods immediately. Killing bandits was nothing new to her after some years of experience. Idle thinking is not welcome in the battlefield, Byleth reminds herself, it'll get myself killed if I'm too distracted.

Blue eyes follow the movement of her allies. She notices the blue-caped boy and the golden-caped boy sticking together, and the silver-haired girl keeping her distance from the other two, axe in her hand. Byleth notes that it would be best to even the numbers out, and she immediately allows her feet to move, following the other closely. "I do hope you don't mind that I help you here," Byleth speaks to the other, "I'm Byleth by the way."

"Thank you for your assistance." A pause, "I am Edelgard."

Edelgard. A sense of familiarity rushes into her veins. Byleth allows her digits to grip onto the hilt of her blade further, feeling her body tense instinctively. Pupils are fixed onto the bandit coming towards them, and she notes the way Edelgard swings her axe, bringing it down onto the enemy. Blood splatters onto the dry, darkened soil, staining it scarlet. Her nose detects the scent of fresh blood, driving her instincts of the need to be relentless to survive.

"-guh!"

The bandit's voice cries out, choking on his own crimson essence as Byleth drives her iron blade into the man's chest, seeing the blood ooze out from the freshly made wound, coating the end of the iron sword. The mercenary pulls her blade out, flicking it down to her sword, plastering the ground with the stain and mark of her kill. "He didn't hurt you, did he?" Byleth inquires at Edelgard, her gaze pinned forward despite the desire to look back at the other girl.

"I'm fine," Edelgard breathes out, "thank you for asking."

Blue eyes note the way the brown-haired boy with the golden cape pulls back on his bow, an arrow piercing into another bandit's chest. She notes the way the lances punctures another bandit's lung-a kill done by the blond male with the blue cape. Interesting. Byleth thinks as she scans the area for any further hidden enemies. She marches forward.

"Hey, you with the blank stare! Outta my way!"

Byleth grips her sword again and watches the bandit charge at her, axe in hand and ready to swing down onto her. Jumping back, blue eyes watch the blade of the axe swing forward, missing her; she retaliates by lunging forward, stabbing the bandit quickly before he recovered to try to attack her again.

He's down, Byleth sighs to herself, noting the gang of bandits back away after their leader had fallen from her attack. Her teeth clench together, and her eyes focus and glare as she notices the fallen bandit spring back to life. I didn't kill him? She's surprised ; normally no one survives her attacks. Her title of the Ashen Demon held tremendous bite after all.

"You'll die!" she hears the man shout, axe ready in hand, charging forward towards Edelgard.

Byleth notes the way Edelgard pulls the dagger from its hilt, ready to retaliate in response, yet the blood in her veins freeze as a memory pours into her mind. "Leave them alone!" she remembers saying once in the past, sword ready, adrenaline pooling into her mind, hands and legs.

No... Byleth finds her inner thoughts screaming at her. No!

Kill him! Kill him for going for her!

Running...and running, Byleth shoves herself at Edelgard, pushing her aside and the faint pressure of an axe blade touches her spine-it hurts for a brief moment until-

"You idiot! You. Big. Dumb. IDIOT!"

Byleth feels cold from the darkness devouring everything in sight, her blue eyes immediately turning to the source of the voice. "Sothis, I-"

"Honestly!" Sothis is livid- Byleth shuts her mouth immediately, "what are you accomplishing with that little stunt?! It's like you're tryingto get us BOTHkilled!"

She almost winces at the way Sothis berates her for her impulsive action. No amount of excuse or apology would make up for it after all-she disobeyed her father's law as a mercenary. "Ugh." Sothis sighs, Byleth feels her jaw ache from how tense she is, "Well, it's fine. If you don't know the value of your own life, you're not going to protect it very well, are you?"

It hurts to be berated by Sothis; she hadn't ever received such harsh treatment verbally. Not even Jeralt would ever say something like that to her. It's certainly surreal to feel punished for a vain attempt of heroism. Still, Byleth knows she deserves it. After all, only an idiot after all would rush in without proper thinking. Which is exactly what she did.

"Sothis, look…" Byleth breathes out, and she feels breathless, "I'm sorry. I...I wasn't thinking clearly-"

"Of course not. This is one of the few times that you've lost yourself." Sothis chips in, interrupting, "it's always upon my shoulders to guide you so you are not lost."

"Thank you for your guidance and help," Byleth answers after a moment of silence to clear out the last remnants of adrenaline coursing through her body, "but...what exactly did you do?"

"I stalled the hands of time." Sothis answers in return, her voice and body language depicting that she had cooled down from her moment of wrath, "you would have died if I did not intervene, and you will die the moment I resume the hands of time."

Byleth's eyes widen in surprise. She never thought of dying on the battlefield-it hit a bit too close to home knowing that she will abandon her own father . She displays the tiniest of frowns shortly after with that sour thought.

"All for one girl. One girl who is a stranger to you." Sothis sighs again, "Oh what am I to do with you?"

She isn't just some girl. Byleth monologues to herself, but holds her tongue in place-she doesn't want to anger the green-haired girl again. She doesn't want to tell Sothis about her feelings and thoughts about that girl. Something about Edelgard intrigues her-as if there was a fated connection between the two. The mercenary thinks about her, the way her eyes would stare at her in curiosity, yet there was a stern look of judgment to them. Do I know her from somewhere? The name Edelgard was familiar , but she can't pinpoint exactly where she had heard that name from. Banter from villagers? Banter from merchants? The possibilities were endless.

"Turn back the hands of time." Byleth blurts out, her gaze staring at the void despite the light pining onto Sothis. I want to see her again. I want to know the truth-

"Of course! I must turn back the hands of time! If I can stop time, then it shouldn't be too much of a hassle to turn time back." Sothis claps her hands together, a smile forming onto her young complexion. "Protect yourself this time. Now go!"

A golden light shines in front of Sothis; it looked like a spell was being cast and Byleth finds herself falling in the darkness of her mind, feeling time tick like a godfather clock. Her memories clash and blue eyes blink several times once she is positioned back into reality, immediately watching the bandit spring back into action. Disorientated, yet focused, Byleth charges forward. Destroy him. Her inner voice speaks, loud, vengeful , sinister even. She gets in front of Edelgard and swings her sword the moment the bandit comes within range, sending him flying backwards.

"Are...are you okay?" Byleth asks Edelgard, her chest heaving from her moment of fury. She knows her own strength and power when she allows the demon of her might to take over-allowing her title to shine through above all. Yet, Byleth forces the emotion down, her body tingling from the adrenaline.

"I'm fine." Edelgard breathes out her response, feeling an ache all over her body from the tension of fighting.

"You're hurt," Byleth notices a cut on the silver-haired girl's arm, the cut slicing through the dark fabric of the clothing she wears, the flesh oozing out crimson essence.

"I'll be fine," Edelgard remarks quickly, holding her arm out a tad bit for her own lilac eyes to inspect, "It's nothing to worry about-"

"Here," Byleth interrupts, hand going into her pouch to pull out bandages, "I'll patch you up."

Stepping closer to Edelgard, Byleth notices the way snowy lilac eyes peer at her cautiously, almost wary, but there was a feeling of familiarity; a small sign of trust . The mercenary grabs the other's arm, holding it up in place as she wraps the soft, white material around the fresh cut, allowing the blood to stain and seep into the material. "There." Byleth speaks as she finishes up, looking at Edelgard, "that should be good until you need to change the dressing."

"Thank you," Byleth hears Edelgard give her gratitude, their eyes meeting.

Blue eyes widen ever so slightly as they gaze upon snowy lilac-colored eyes, allowing her entire presence to become mesmerized once again. Butterflies dance in her gut, fluttering against the caged walls of her stomach, and it feels that any given moment that if she were to speak, the butterflies would escape from her pharynx. The pale purple color is certainly rare ; Byleth remembers seeing purple eyes somewhere in her youth, but she doesn't remember much aside from the pleasant memories of carnations, white lilies and other flowers.

"Is there something you need to say?" Edelgard breaks the silence, flustered by the intense gaze from her savior.

I was staring too much, Byleth tells herself and she blinks a couple times, "No, I have nothing to say." A white lie. Your eyes are really pretty- she wanted to tell Edelgard that, but she finds it inappropriate to do so at the moment.

"It seems that you have grown some interest to this girl you saved," Sothis's voice echoes in Byleth's mind.

I suppose. Byleth replies, watching Edelgard step back and communicate with blue-coated and golden-coated boys who finally caught up. Something about her brings me peace...I feel...good.

"I can tell," Sothis sighs, "you're hopeless. Though, it seems you have no choice but to go to where your father is going next."

Byleth sees Jeralt talk to another man in clad white. A Knight of Seiros? Garreg Mach Academy? Many questions pop up in her mind, but the mercenary could only nod as she watches the silver-haired girl wander around; chatting, smiling. What a pleasant sight.