I wanted to wait a full week to post, but... Well, you'll see why at the end. I can promise Ch. 8 will come within the week. Anyways, enjoy! Thank you to everyone that has commented so far. It really motivates me to keep the chapters coming.
The rest of the battle was far from eventful. Blows were traded, but steam on both sides waned by the end of the day. The death toll was considerable for the first clash. By the time it was sunset, nobody was in the mood to rest easy. Byleth's victories were dampened by just who she slew. There was no reprimanding for her yet. If anything, the likes of both Rodrigue and the Gray Lion had more praise than criticism to say. Even if the battle was not yet won, disrupting command on two flanks alleviated the burden.
Her negativity around their situation was also unnecessary. Allowing Hubert to go was no boon, but there was a reason why the Silver Maiden was so revered. Its defenses were without question. And with indisputably loyal soldiers to man the mechanism, they would not be compromised a second time. The Adrestian camp was prominent in the distance, but they had no choice but to pause any attacks. Their losses meant that they had to wait for reinforcements before engaging head-on.
Word had left for Fhirdiad immediately after Cornelia's defection. However, it would be days before the necessary support came. Until then, soldiers from House Rowe were all that they could rely on. Though, they would not arrive until the third day of combat. That thought made the already impossible task of sleeping more difficult. She had let Hubert go, thus prolonging the battle. It was not her fault for the imperial army's stay, but that did not mean that she would not blame herself.
Her eyes squinted out of the window. Despite being provided an actual bed and a place in the guest rooms, he had yet to get a wink of sleep. It was frustrating not only because she needed to be in peak form for the battle ahead, but her rest too assisted in reconstructing her relic. Without a forge equipped to repair a legendary weapon, the Sword of the Creator had to sit out for the day ahead.
Her eyes wearily turned from the moonlight to the door to her room. She almost expected an assassin to make an attempt on her. However, efforts made by Rodrigue made sure to be on guard for turncoats. His effort to protect her was a properly secured deadbolt.
A small giggle left her lips at the solution, marveling at the mere simplicity. She was not even safe in a reinforced jail cell after all. A part of her sort of missed the dingy conditions. Her self-esteem was lacking after her shortcoming in the battle. Lysithea and the rest of the alumnus called it outstanding service, even Ingrid had nothing but praise for Byleth. Yet, they did not know any better. They did not know how she willingly let Hubert go.
She cast her head down in shame but stopped halfway through her motion. Her eyes caught sight of a figure. Immediately, her gaze shot over the silhouette, "Who's there?" She demanded, still on edge from the battle.
"No need to be so defensive," An eccentric voice responded, "it is not like I have much agency at the moment." The voice was unmistakable, but she refused to believe it. Dreaming up apparitions was not new. Having a vengeful spirit was not a trend she wished to see.
"Why have you come?" The question left her mouth without a second thought. Much like the previous specter, this one too fell to her blade.
He waved his hand at the implications of her inquiry, already knowing what spurred the thought. "Do I really seem like such a petty person? Though, I would not mind picking your brain for information on your crest as an apology." That response relaxed her some, but she was unable to tell if he was joking or being truthful. It was always hard to tell with his generally exaggerated tone.
Byleth ignored his request, but she did believe in his words. "No, not at all. I just meant... I killed you. Should you not loathe my being? I imagine you may wish to torment me."
The apparition balked at the notion and shook his head promptly, "Now why would I do that? Curiously, it was you who called me. If anything, I should be the one asking questions." The information caught the woman off guard, not understanding what the other was explaining. Her assumption was still comparable to a haunt.
Her head tilted, "What do you mean by that?" Perplexity kept her from reading too much into his words. She had yet to unpack why she would have called on him in the first place. Granted, that question was far easier to answer than how or what brought him.
"I can hardly say. I was hoping you had answers. Is this some sort of crest ability? My, even death can't stave off my excitement at the prospect. To think your blood may have this power. Goodness, it could be possible to call on other ghosts." As much as she was wracked by guilt, the display was reminiscent of how he was in life. The man's obsession made him forget the fact that he could not even physically take notes.
Her amusement at his excitement did nothing to produce any meaningful answers. There was hardly anything she could say about her ability. Still fearing the goddess's fury, she would only count her experience with ghosts being the man she met a few nights back. Unlike the figure before her, the other loved to be vague. "I cannot say I know much. It seems like I can only talk to those I killed." It was a grim thought, but it was shaping into a trend.
Although it was hard to fully decipher his expression, she could imagine the news disheartened him some, "That is too bad. The ability to speak to the dead could solve so many problems in the world. Who better to critique society than its victims?"
The apparition's interest in changing society reminded Byleth of his parting words. She remembered well that he genuinely believed in Edelgard's vision, "You mentioned your sister as you were dying. Would you mind telling me more about that?" The question was at first met with only silence. Her lack of tact always made conversation tough with her.
Byleth winced over the prospect that she brought him discomfort, but the quiet did not last long. "I suppose prattling about my past before my death was unfair. I don't mind providing you exposition. You see... the impetus for my crest research was based around the idea of manifesting crests. My sister was a victim of a crest marriage, being married in order to birth a child with a crest. And when results were not met, she was discarded. Despite my status and crest, I could not save her." The explanation was far more than the woman imagined to hear. Once again, she blamed Claude's ambiguity. She was under the assumption the ghosts would provide little in the form of meaningful commentary.
Hearing all this personal information gave credence to the idea that she was not dealing with delusions. Though, there was no way for her to confirm his story. Byleth merely decided it best to believe him, "I see. And Edelgard's society, it could've saved people like your sister from the same fate, right?"
"Correct," The voice sounded haggard, "her solution seemed to have better success than my own. I was resolved to my path because I genuinely believed that dismantlement of the crest system and nobility would bring prosperity to Fódlan." It sounded less like his story and more about justifying his actions at that point.
The green-haired woman hummed at the words, "Would you have joined me if we had a conversation instead of battle?"
"I am afraid I would not have or will have. It is still possible I would have I suppose, but I can only say that your choice to fight me was a sound one." The apparition responded earnestly. "I should say now that I was brought to you on this very question. So, I will add that you need not get hung up on me. Your decision was based on your own judgment. I did not believe your hypothesis, but such is research. It is up to you to demonstrate that your belief was the correct answer." His words were just what the woman yearned to hear. It brought her some semblance of peace to know that much. She still had to grapple with her guilty of letting Hubert go.
"You really think so?" The question was quick to leave her lips.
The spirit nodded, "I do. I hope that your hypothesis is correct."
Before she had the opportunity to thank the specter, his presence vanished. His outline was nowhere to be seen. There was no need to scan around for him. Her tired mind chalking up to the same circumstances with the last visit. As soon as she arrived at a resolution, the spirit vanished. Two cases were not enough to make a theory, but it was a decent guess at any rate.
Regardless, sleep eventually claimed her. The conversation with the ghost was enough to distract her from the worst thoughts. There were no nightmares or dreams that night. Instead, she slept into the morning and was awoken by the trickle of light through her window. Byleth groaned, not yet ready to rise. Despite not even being enlisted, her morning attendance was expected, especially after her stunt yesterday.
After making use of the nearby facilities, the woman was quick to rush out. There was no specific person she answered to, so her idea was to seek out Duke Fraldarius. As a former prisoner, the task was not a simple one. She was rebuffed at every corner by Kingdom soldiers. Some thought highly of her for the exploits in the engagement, but there was little she could do to reach the noble. So, the woman had to settle for camping outside of the nearest barracks.
Her patience was tested. After an hour spent twiddling her thumbs, the middle-aged man made his appearance with his personal guard. He gave a small wave to Byleth as he stored away a parchment into his pocket. She thought little of the paper, "Lord Rodrigue, I wanted to ask about my placement." The idea of just approaching a squad captain would draw suspicions of avoiding the top brass.
"Ah, perfect. You were right to come to me," His enthusiasm inspired hope for Byleth. While she was still hung up on her decision, being recognized for her efforts would do well to correct that course of action. "It was decided that there will be a punishment for your disobedience in the last battle." Or not.
Byleth blinked, not sure what she was truly expecting. She was not about to fight the merits of his decision, but the idea of not participating in the battle or being placed under heavier watch did not sit well. Taking a passive role in combat was the last option she wanted. Seeing as how many of her allies nearly died on the first day of fighting, the woman was opposed to being under stern orders. "What will this punishment entail?"
Her hope was the prospect of receiving a light sentence, possibly just latrine duty or running laps around the fort. With the next clash imminent, she preferred to get through her consequence sooner rather than later. It was not lost on her how morbid her mind had become. Byleth could only seem to focus on the battles ahead over the peace in between. The memory of the apparition faded in favor of forming a battle plan.
"You will be tasked to remain at the rear of the fort and keep an eye out for reinforcements and report to them the current status of the battle. House Rowe should have already sent out some knights to bolster our numbers." The assignment was both good and bad news. On one hand, they had allies inbound already. On the other hand, she was to play a non-combat role until they arrived. "And, you will be forced to let go of your weapons for the time being. Sword of the Creator included. I swear I will have to punish Felix later for handing you that too."
It appeared that she was not going to even get a chance to participate in the fighting. The fact deflated her, but the task was a necessary one all the same. Even still, the task could have been relegated to grunt work. "Lord Rodrigue, I am sure I would serve the Kingdom better on the center front again."
Her appeal was met with the shake of ahead, "I am afraid this arrangement was already agreed upon by Sir Gwendal and I. He too recognizes your merits but also stressed the point that you lack discipline." The comment earned a pout outwardly. Internally, Byleth had to make sense of this dilemma. The act of disobeying direct orders could put her in hot water with the very allies she just convinced.
The risk was not one she could take. Besides, she could rewind time in the worst-case scenario. While there were limitations, the time of arrival for the reinforcements could determine if she went along with the punishment. With some reluctance, she finally gave a defeated nod. "Could I at least keep my sword on me? It does not have much use left." The pitiful condition of the blade made it as useful as a glass sword.
The duke shook his head to the idea, "I am afraid all weapons are to be kept away. It is just to make sure that you follow orders. And please don't take this too hard, it will only be for today." His reassuring smile did not ease Byleth's nerves, but she knew there was no chance of compromise in her position.
Eventually, she stripped herself of her arms. Her personal dagger too was confiscated. A frown soon formed, not at all happy with her circumstances. She had some unarmed experience and her faith magic was effective, but her expertise was with a sword. "I understand; shall I head over to the position now?"
She was able to at least appear outwardly indifferent aside from the small tells, but her mind was already wrapped up in making the most of her situation. Her final question was merely to end their conversation then, not wishing to cause a stir by bickering with the noble. "You should eat some breakfast first. Look," He stopped her, "this punishment is not meant to bring you shame. Besides, it is much better than being court-martialed."
The worse alternative put some perspective into her arrangement at least, "I will comply. It just worries me to be away from the battle."
Before she was off, the blue-haired man cleared his throat. The gesture caught her attention, "You're worried about them, right?" Byleth froze in her spot at the words. It was no secret, but it did not match her character. She preferred people seeing her as a sword and following her the wishes of the Kingdom. Admittedly, she did not want to give him a reason to think that she was bound to betray his trust.
"How did you come to that idea?" She simply opted to play coy.
Rodrigue chuckled at the display, "As a father myself, I know how stressful it is to be away from Felix. He's off being reckless, and I'm stuck praying that he comes back unscathed or comes back at all. But, my point is that you need some faith, both in them and your superior. Trust me on this, Byleth, I chose you for a reason. This may seem like a punishment-"
"And referred to as punishment," Byleth interjected. The man was certainly not avoiding the actual word itself.
Rather than take offense at her conversational faux pas, the man simply looked more amused. It often amazed the woman just how lax the noble could be in his manners, "And referred to as punishment, but I assure you that there is more to this than you think. Trust me on this, Byleth. It is how you can prove that you are truly with us over beside us." Truthfully, both were preferable. Her aim was simply to atone for perpetuating the war further. She did not need to be hated or loved. It would not matter one way or the other if they were all dead.
The female gave a reluctant nod, "I'll try. I mean... I will wait for reinforcements but at the first sign of trouble-"
This time around, it was Rodrigue to cut her off. The man gave a sound shake of the head, "No exceptions. If this invasion is truly about capturing you, then this position will serve you best. Though, I will add that is not the main reason for your positioning. Just trust my judgment on this, I have been guiding this Kingdom for many years now after all." The man was certainly wise. She was raised on the battlefield, but the man crafted battles. However, he had never seen the likes of time manipulation.
In his many years, he never needed such a power. That much gave Byleth pause, "I will try. I promise." It was not an empty promise, but she was not completely convinced. Her time pulse was not always necessary, but there were a few instances where she needed to rely on her power.
She wanted him to trust her. So, it was only natural that she trusted his decision. The man likely had a plan in mind. As much as the green-haired woman wanted answers, there was little time to simply dawdle. "You better get some breakfast before you take to your post." Rodrigue chimed in on that matter.
The woman answered with a nod before running off in the direction of the rest of the troops. She assumed that they were all traveling in the same direction. Sure enough, her intuition yielded her a sizable plate. The staff was beyond generous after rumors spread around the fortress. In their eyes, she was a lioness, showing both protectiveness and ferociousness. It fit her better than either demon or hero.
Her plate was a sizable portion of oatmeal, a small ham steak, and a potato. It was a bit more than she wanted, but saying no to the very men she fought alongside was not much of an option. It was not her plan to have rumors of her spread, but it was refreshing. It almost reminded her of the adoration she received from the Adrestians, "Hey, Byleth, are you going to eat all of that?"
The female voice caught Byleth's ears. Her eyes turned to see a drooling blonde. The Falcon Knight was eyeing up her plate shamelessly. The expression was quite comical, "You may have the plate, save the potato. I may need something to nibble on while I wait for reinforcements."
Ingrid looked delighted at the news as she went ahead to swipe the ham and scoop the oatmeal onto her plate. Even as nobles, she had to adhere to provisions and rationing. Sylvain and Felix were on both sides. While Sylvain and Ingrid looked to be in good spirits, Felix did not look nearly as ecstatic. "Oh, don't worry about hi, Professor." The redhead spoke in his usual laid-back manner, "He is just bummed that he won't get to see you in action."
"Shut up, Sylvain," Felix growled and had his fist collide with the man's shoulder. As the redhead winced in pain, the other two found an available table for the four of them to occupy.
The blonde paid little mind to the two men, "I admit that I share his sentiments. Even though you did disobey orders, you fought spectacularly." The grim reality of her actions was ignored in favor of her prestige.
"What can I say? I was right. The professor is our victory goddess, both beautiful and brutal. I daresay her sheer radiance will be what gets the Empire to fall back." That level of flattery earned him a kick from under the table by Ingrid. The pained expression on Sylvain's face got a giggle out of the green-haired woman. The bonds between the three friends were quite enviable. Any childhood friends Byleth had been only temporary.
"She fought well, no need to talk like an idiot." The swordsman's prickly nature added to their dynamic. All three had their quirks. It was easy to imagine the three of them and the King together as children. Byleth imagined that they had not changed much since those days. Even through hardship, they were all still together.
Byleth found herself musing back to happier days. While many looked to their adolescent years, the woman's peaceful era was at Garreg Mach. Even though she made her choice initially to turn against Rhea, there was a lingering regret since her departure that she made a mistake. While her days as a teacher were marred in struggle and tragedy, those days with her class were sublime. Even if she was not too many years off from her students, they were all so young in her eyes, oblivious to the horrors of the world.
Her memory extended to more than just them. To the other classes, she saw friendship with almost every student. The likes of Claude and Dimitri were dear friends in their own right. She never considered herself truly close, but both boys gave warm greetings and always extended a hand when she got into trouble with Seteth or the other professors.
The thought of the former colleagues had the woman's stomach-churning. Her breakfast looked less and less appetizing with each second. The grim thoughts of her victims had her head spinning. Her eyes glanced up to the three friends chatting amongst themselves. Their professor was struck down by her hand, "All of you..." She muttered, "I'm sorry."
Her sudden apology earned only confused expressions from all present, "What's the matter, Byleth?" Sylvain was quick to try to console her.
"I wanted to apologize again for Professor Hanneman," The man's death was made known to the camp. As their teacher, Byleth assumed that his loss would not be easy on them. The specter made it easier to justify her actions, but it did not mean that everyone had moved on. There were still those that grieved his loss.
Ingrid looked somewhat uncomfortable with the somber topic, but her emerald-eyes told that there was no scorn. There was only remorse, "It is not your fault, Byleth. He made his choice. I would've wanted him to live, but I don't blame you for being unable to talk him down. I would not have been able to try to convince him. And if I let him live, then I would have given us more trouble." While her words were intended to uplift Byleth's spirit, she unintentionally reopened the wound of sparing Hubert. Byleth grimaced, no longer able to even eat the potato.
She handed over the morsel to Ingrid. The blonde was not happy with the response, but she did not decline the offering. Her more solemn mood earned a scoff, "I am not in the mood for some pity party. You fought. He died. You lived. Be grateful for that." Felix was far from pleasant, but his tactless behavior was appreciated somewhat.
"Hey now, no need to go-" Sylvain tried to intervene, but the green-haired woman herself stopped him.
The former professor wished to hear the other's thoughts fully, "What is there to be grateful about leaving someone dead? Could there have been merit to just letting him live?"
The swordsman rolled his eyes at the point, "What do you make of our current situation?" His question earned a moment of silence. While there was still the looming threat of the Adrestians, her initial worries were quelled by the inbound reinforcements. She had reason to worry over Lysithea and the Lions, but the battle was practically decided. The numbers advantage of the Empire was shrinking.
"We are... I guess, doing well. The initial assault was likely to be their worst. Their leadership had the time to reform, but it is weaker. With knights from House Rowe, we can rush their camps and push them out of Gaspard territory." The words that left the green-haired woman's mouth gave her a newfound clarity. Killing Hanneman and Manuela. Sparing Hubert. All culminated into a near assured victory. It was not set in stone, but a steady stream of soldiers and supplies would keep them from a siege.
The assessment was affirmed by Felix with a hum, "Stop beating yourself up. We survived and will survive. It seems pointless to get hung up on the previous day's events. What matters most is what lies ahead."
Sylvain smirked at the other's words as he raised a cup of water, "I'll cheers to that." With some reluctance, only Ingrid took him up on the offer.
Byleth all the while allowed Felix's words to keep her from thinking too hard on the details. Her situation was not ideal, but the worst was over. She could take to her new position with some ease, so long as the knights came in a timely manner. Ultimately, that was her pressing condition, "Thank you." She whispered out after finding solace in their kindness.
"You could always take up the role as our professor now," Sylvain joked. It was a little insensitive, as was made clear by the glare he received from the blonde. However, the idea distracted Byleth from any bitter emotions. A small part of her could not help but imagine the possibility of if she had taught their class.
"Felix, be sure to keep an eye on Lysithea while I'm occupied." The woman slowly stood from her seat. Not exactly in the mood to eat anymore, it was for the best that she ran off to her position before she got spotted by the enemy.
The blue-haired man grumbled, but he eventually nodded his head. "Don't keep us waiting too long. I still am itching for our spar."
Her gaze turned to Ingrid and Sylvain next, "I wish you both luck in the battle. Try not to have me bail you out again." Her playfulness was a rarity, but the thought of them as her students had her in an odd mood. She loved her class immensely, but some fought to perpetuate this war. At least, the Lions stood together in their fight to protect their homeland.
Sylvain chuckled at her words, "I will send those Adrestians running. Instead of the battle, you should think about grabbing some tea with me once this is over." His flirting was ineffective, but it kept her sentimental.
Ingrid huffed at the other's comment, not too keen on him making such flippant advances. "Arianrhod will not fall. You do not need to worry."
Their confidence was well-received. The green-haired woman acknowledged both of their sentiments and was promptly off. The orientation of the fort was still not something she knew well, but navigating her way to someone knowledgeable was not difficult. It was the Gray Lion that she came across and received the same orders as she had with Rodrigue. She was to exit from a small passage. One unable to even fit the likes of an armored knight.
While the woman had pondered the prospect of nabbing a blade, she ultimately gave up on the pursuit. It would not be difficult to scavenge a weapon from the ground. The pathway to the exit was easy to miss. The winding path was claustrophobic inducing. At one point, it demanded her to crawl.
The passage was also one-way. Much to her surprise, she fell a small height from the mouth. There was hay to lighten the fall, but the surprise alone had her shaken. Her placement did not draw much attention to herself, but before her was an open field. If she had made a run for it, she would be easy pickings for an imperial paladin. There were no Adrestians in the vicinity, but that did not make being unarmed any easier. Her magic had a set limit.
An hour or so had passed soon after. The Empire's forces had set off for the fort on all sides. It unnerved Byleth not to be present. Rodrigue's words did not make sitting out any easier. She started to regret being complacent with his words. The mystery of why he needed her of all people still eluded her.
She grumbled as her mint-eyes remained focused on the open plains, impatiently awaiting the knights. Though, her quiet begging was met with specks in the distance. On the horizon-line, shapes started to obscure the border between earth and sky. The sight had Byleth over the moon. She wanted to run off into the fray again, but her job was not to play witness. She was to be a messenger.
To her surprise, the knights of House Rowe were already branching off to the left and right. The woman gaped as the cavalry passed her on both sides. Questions continued to manifest in her head. Who was she even to report to? There was no discernible commander.
However, she noticed one peculiar shape. Her eyes took in the carriage. It carried the same banner as Sir Gwendal. Byleth was unsure of how to proceed. She had her experience with nobility, but this was to be her first time meeting with the lord of House Rowe. Considering Gwendal's initial wariness, she assumed that she may need to tread carefully. The coach driver motioned the woman over.
With a heavy heart... heavy mind, Byleth approached the carriage. The driver placed down his reins and moved to open the door. The woman nodded to the gesture and stepped in, only... it was not Count Rowe. To her surprise, it was a familiar face. It was one that she had not seen in years. He had changed so much, but he still retained that same warmth he had at the academy.
"Greetings, Professor." The man blinked at his slip up, "My apologies. I suppose you're no longer a professor. Would you mind if I called you Byleth?" The request had the female outwardly gaping. She was generally reserved still, but this meeting had her completely off guard.
"You may," She responded evenly, "how should I address you?"
"No need to stress titles when it is just us. You may simply call me Dimitri."