A/N: Woah, I don't know what the hell happened all of a sudden but I got bombarded with notifications over the weekend. Thank you for the sudden surge of favs and follows LOL. Caught me completely by surprise. Cannot appreciate y'all enough. As usual, favs, follows, and reviews are all welcomed!
Today's chapter is pretty chill and low-action. Actually, it'll take a few chapters before we start diving back into the political aspect of the story. But hey, monastery life is fun to write about :p
[White Clouds]
Chapter 9: Garreg Mach
"So, let me get this straight. You're rejoining the Knights of Seiros?"
"That's how things turned out, yes."
"And that means we're disbanding?"
"Well, not quite. Lady Rhea has allowed me to work independently using my own troop, so no, we aren't technically disbanding."
"Okay, fine. We're not disbanding. But then why are you enlisting me into this Academy as a student?!"
Satiana and Jeralt stood in front of the audience chamber on the second floor, waiting for Rhea to call them in. After exploring the monastery with Renard, Byleth retrieved Satiana, saying that Jeralt requested her attendance in his meeting with Rhea. Although Satiana was not fond of staying in the monastery, she trusted Jeralt's decisions. He wasn't one to make rash decisions, always planning things through. Staying by his side for four long years, she trusted Jeralt with her life.
But now, he stomped all over her trust, spat on it, sending it to fuck off to outer space. Jeralt had basically thrown her into the lion's den, completely disregarding her safety, and she couldn't help but question whether that Lady Rhea or whatever her name was brainwashed him with dark magic in the past few hours.
"Lady Rhea hired Byleth as a professor here," Jeralt ignored her complaints, moving on with his explanation. "She starts working here tomorrow as the professor in charge of the Blue Lions."
"Okay, but what does that have to do with me?" Satiana scowled, crossing her arms on her chest in defiance. "Byleth can be a teacher, sure. But why do I have to be a student too?" She glared at Jeralt, tapping her foot impatiently against the cobbled floor.
Jeralt scratched the back of his head fervently. He groaned, back slumping as he buried his face into his free hand. "Look, I know this is very awkward for you. To be a student in this Academy despite being a…runaway prisoner." He winced visibly at his own words.
"Yes, no shit, Jeralt," Satiana's impatience snapped, and she swore loudly. "So maybe you haven't gone mad after all." Her eyes narrowed, filled with suspicion.
There was a glimpse of betrayal flashing in her eyes, and Jeralt felt himself feeling needlessly guilty. "Look, I…I'm sorry. I didn't have any other choice. This is a once-in-a-lifetime request. From me to you," Jeralt chewed over his words as he spoke.
Satiana quietly watched over his demeanor with her sharp eyes.
Something was blatantly off with Jeralt. His shoulders were stiff, gaze hardened with determination. But despite the facade of indifference he put up, his usual confident aura had completely wilted, telling an entirely different story. His words were stuck in his throat as if there was something dangerous lurking within his voice box that he didn't dare set free. Combined with the way his eyes darted around the floor, searching for invisible enemies, Satiana knew that something had put Jeralt on guard.
"Jeralt, be honest with me." Satiana pulled her arms away from her chest, letting them hang loosely in the air. "What is really going on? What do you mean this is something you're requesting of me?"
Jeralt glanced off to the side, avoiding Satiana's questioning gaze. Satiana waited, feeling that there was more to come, and calmly met Jeralt's panicked gaze. Jeralt kneaded his fingers for a moment, but then he shook his head and straightened his back.
"How much do you trust the Church of Seiros?" Jeralt suddenly asked, steering the conversation to different grounds.
Satiana blinked, scrunching her brows. "What? What does that have to do with anything?"
"Just answer my question, please," he repeated again in a strained voice.
Satiana frowned. "I don't know where you're going with this, but you know as well as I do that the Church can't be trusted. Have you forgotten why we're here, to begin with? It was to search for clues regarding the Western Church's suspicious movements."
Jeralt nodded stiffly. "Exactly. I don't trust the Church either."
His reply left Satiana with even more questions. "Then why are you choosing to stay here if you don't trust them?"
"I…don't really have a choice. I owe Lady Rhea my life. And they do say…keep your friends close and your enemies closer," Jeralt proclaimed.
It was then that something clicked, the puzzle pieces falling into place. Realization dawned, and Satiana felt her stomach plummet, the tensed air between the two of them growing stronger. Connecting the dots inside her head, Satiana finally understood what Jeralt was trying to tell her in his own roundabout way.
"You don't trust this Lady Rhea. There's a reason why you can't resist her. And you want me to be with Byleth, exactly because of your suspicions. Am I right?" Satiana accused.
Jeralt nodded stiffly, expression tightening. "I have a feeling she's trying to separate me from my daughter. I don't know what she's planning, but I can't keep an eye on her if I'm being sent away on missions."
Satiana hummed in thought, rubbing her chin with her fingers. "Ah, but if I'm there with Byleth all the time, she can't take action easily. So you want me to watch out for Byleth in your stead?"
"Can you do it for me?" Jeralt said, half-pleading with eyes filled with genuine worry.
Satiana's eyes softened, her heart clenching at the look on his face. "Jeralt, you gave me a second chance at life. I would do anything to help you." She confessed, placing a hand on her heart. "I promise you, I'll protect Byleth from whatever comes after her," Satiana declared, nodding with confidence.
Jeralt exhaled lightly, a small smile on his face. "Thanks, Satiana. I'm counting on you. Again, sorry to put you in an awkward situation."
"You have nothing to apologize for. Besides, now that I think about it," Satiana trailed off, lips twitching up into a smirk. "We're basically in one of our enemy's headquarters, and they don't know that we suspect them of foul play. This is the perfect chance to gather intel from the inside."
"You're right. I'll send a letter to sir Rodrigue, explaining our circumstances. Meanwhile, you can pretend to be an obedient student here while searching for clues regarding the Western Church and their ties with the Empire," Jeralt ordered.
Satiana nodded in understanding. "Alright, then I guess it's settled. I'll infiltrate as a student, Byleth as a professor, and you as a knight. Damn, don't we have a good team—" she clamped her mouth shut when a stray thought entered her head. "You know, Renard is going to come after your head." Satiana flinched, grimacing. "I don't think he likes this place much. Not that I know why, though."
Jeralt coughed into his hands. "W-Well, I'll deal with him somehow. But, for now, you wait here, get registered as a student, and find Byleth somewhere on the monastery grounds. You copy that?"
"Yes, sir," Satiana replied on instinct.
Although she didn't want to mingle with the students in the monastery, she figured if it was for the sake of her mission, she could deal with a few noble brats, one or two. Besides, she had business to settle with Edelgard anyway. Even more so, Dimitri was here. He was the prince of Faerghus, and if there was someone else other than Jeralt she had a debt to repay, it was him.
"Miss Satiana?" The large doors to the audience chamber suddenly opened, a man with dark-green hair slipping through the open cracks. "My name is Seteth, and I am the advisor to the archbishop. You may enter for your audience with Lady Rhea."
Jeralt sent a short nod of encouragement her way before he excused himself down the stairs. Satiana sighed loudly, steeling herself for the first confrontation with the so-called enemy. Then, she turned towards the man and followed him into the audience chambers. The door closed behind her, not like a death knell or a thunderclap, but more like a period: something declarative and definitive that marked the end of a sentence, and Satiana tried not to flinch as the latch clicked into place behind them.
Her fate was sealed now, and all she could do was trust herself and her abilities. Hopefully, she could deceive the enemy.
"Welcome to Garreg Mach, Miss Satiana. Please, do make yourself comfortable," a green-haired woman with pure white skin gently spoke.
Satiana blinked, head turning awkwardly to examine the chamber. From what she could see, there were no seats, only a line of statues that decorated the chamber's walls. She fidgeted with her hands, face scrunching up with confusion. "Um…yes. Thank you, Lady Rhea," she spoke quietly, completely out of her depth.
Right, way to make a good first impression.
Rhea ignored her nervous antics and continued to smile beautifully at her. "I heard Jeralt himself recruited you into his mercenary group. You must be a trustworthy person," she spoke with such certainty and confidence that if Satiana didn't know better, she would've fallen straight into the lady's honey trap.
No, I can't trust anything that she says. Don't forget your true purpose here, Satiana.
"Oh, no. I am nothing compared to sir Jeralt. He simply took pity on my situation and thankfully took me under his wing," Satiana humbled herself on purpose, plastering a look of modesty on her face. "I am very grateful to him. I wouldn't have made it out of that hell alive without his assistance." She mixed in truths with the lies, hoping to mask her true intentions.
Rhea's eyes softened, her gaze piercing into Satiana's soul. "Yes, I have heard about your situation from Jeralt. It is unfortunate what happened to your family. May the Goddess bless them on their journey."
"Thank you for your blessing," she spoke rapidly, adding in a small bow for flair.
Of course, Rhea's sentiments fell deaf on her ears. The Goddess never responded to anyone's wishes — she knew that fact well. The Goddess always watched silently from a distance, far from human reach, as tragedy befell her and the children she knew. Satiana could never place her trust in such a fickle Goddess that did nothing to help her children when they sought out her hands.
"Now, about your placement in the Academy, I have decided to place you in the Blue Lions. I figured it would be nice to have you near someone you know. As you may have already heard, another member of your mercenary group will be joining us as a professor," Rhea explained, turning to more serious matters at hand.
"May I ask, what are the Blue Lions?" Satiana inquired innocently, though she had heard of the details from Jeralt earlier.
"Our Academy is separated into three different classes of students. Each class includes students that come from a specific nation in Fodlan. The Blue Lions that you will be joining mainly consist of students from the Kingdom of Faerghus," Seteth interjected. Then, he crossed his arms on his chest, narrowing his eyes at Satiana. "Sir Jeralt spoke incredibly highly of your prowess and intelligence. I hope you do not disappoint us. Although you are a mercenary, you are now a student of this Academy and will act accordingly to the rules here."
"Of course, sir Seteth," Satiana bowed courteously. "I promise you that I will act in a manner befitting of a student of the Officer's Academy." Even to Satiana, her words sounded extremely cringeworthy, but she forced herself to speak nobly. She needed to solidify her image as a pitiful, poor student who entered the Academy due to her benefactor's kind heart.
"Miss Satiana, it is a pleasure to have you here in the monastery. Seteth will complete the documents required to enlist you into our Academy officially. For now, we've decided to use Jeralt's last name as yours so you may introduce yourself as Satiana Eisner to the other students," Rhea concluded with a final nod. "You may now excuse yourself. Your uniform will be delivered to your dorm room this evening."
"Thank you for everything, Lady Rhea. I hope you have a pleasant day," Satiana smiled pleasantly, bowing for the umpteenth time that morning.
Then, she spun on her heels and headed straight to the exit, not daring to look back.
"Rhea, just what are you up to?"
As soon as Satiana left the chambers, Seteth and Rhea retreated into the corner of the room, discussing internal affairs in a hushed voice. As Rhea expected, Seteth immediately confronted her about her decision. It was no surprise; Seteth had many things to worry about to the point where it often brought him to a near-paranoia state.
"Appointing a stranger — a child, no less — as a professor in our esteemed Academy. And allowing that peculiar child from who-knows-where to enter as a student," Seteth protested, shaking his head in disbelief. "Just what are you thinking, Rhea?"
Rhea turned to face Seteth with a calm smile. "I know worrying comes naturally to you, but there is truly no need. That stranger is Jeralt's flesh and blood, after all. Besides, I trust his judgment. If he says that young girl named Satiana is trustworthy, then I will believe him." Rhea remained unnerved by Seteth's pressuring glare.
"I can't say that's all too comforting. How trustworthy is this Jeralt character? Is he not the same man who went missing 21 years ago after the great fire?" Seteth scowled, his frown deepening. "I would like to remind you that Flayn is now here with us. I beg of you. Please consider whether this is an unnecessary risk!" He pleaded, genuine worry in his gaze.
Rhea sighed. "Seteth, they have my utmost trust. Let that be enough for you as well, Seteth. More importantly," she paused, narrowing her eyes slightly. "I am more concerned about the reports I received from Shamir. A suspicious individual frequents Garreg Mach, and we cannot allow those who harbor ill will towards the Church to roam freely."
"Of course, I am concerned as well about that matter. I will keep up with the investigations," Seteth responded as he straightened his back. "Rhea, for now, I will have faith that you are placing your trust with the utmost care. I pray that nothing occurs to shake that confidence."
"You have my word, Seteth," Rhea nodded. "I will not allow any harm to befall you or Flayn as long as you are here."
"Alright, Rhea," Seteth sighed deeply, shoulders slumping slightly in resignation. "I trust your judgment, Rhea. Then, I will excuse myself to finish the documents regarding our two new members."
Seteth spun around on his heels, proceeding to the exit when Rhea suddenly walked up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. Seteth blinked, turning back to face Rhea. "What's the matter?"
"There is something else that I want you to investigate," Rhea began speaking, her eyes mischievously twinkling. "I want you to ask Professor Hanneman to decipher the crests lying dormant within those two."
Seteth arched an eyebrow in curiosity. "Crests? You believe those two hold the power of crests within them?"
"Of one of them, I am sure of. The other, though…" Rhea trailed off, glancing briefly to the side. "I am not certain, but something has been nagging me about that girl ever since I met her. Perhaps it is just my imagination, but I feel as if there is a very familiar and nostalgic power lying inside of her. Her crest may shed light on her true identity."
Seteth's expression hardened. "Are you talking about that girl named Satiana?"
Rhea nodded. "I believe that it was fate that brought her here to the monastery. At least, that is what the Goddess appears to be telling me."
Seteth pondered, lips tightening. "If you say so, Rhea. I will ask Professor Hanneman to schedule a meeting with those two."
"You have my sincere thanks, Seteth," Rhea replied, a genuine smile on her face.
Seteth closed the doors lightly behind him, leaving Rhea alone inside the audience chamber. Rhea quietly exhaled, stepping lightly across the floor towards the center of the room. She lifted her head, eyes trailing along the pane of mosaic tiles on the wall, depicting a picture of the Goddess. A satisfied smile hung on her lips, her eyes brimming with tears as a wave of nostalgia and euphoria rushed over her.
"So…fate has brought you back to me…my dear mother."
"So, what did you want to talk to me about, your highness?"
It had been less than an hour since she left the audience chambers. She had wandered aimlessly throughout the monastery, trying to find clues to Byleth's whereabouts when Dimitri suddenly stopped her; he practically begged her to follow him to the rose garden near the central courtyard. Again, she was facing another nerve-wracking moment of her life. She wouldn't have called it horror, but the closest thing to how she currently felt was probably so.
She had already steeled her resolve, mentally preparing herself to meet Dimitri again, but still, it was way too sudden. She didn't expect to talk to him again on the same day. Not to mention, of all places, he chose a rose garden, a place so unbefitting of her status. If only she wasn't so intimidated by his presence, she would've taken the chance to appreciate the beautiful flowers around her.
"Well, it's just, I wanted to talk more with you," Dimitri awkwardly explained, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.
Satiana couldn't help but let loose an undignified snort at his actions. "Your highness, if I didn't know any better, I would think you're trying to hit on me," Satiana joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere, though deep inside, she was still filled to the brim with anxiety.
Dimitri immediately blanched at her words, his cheeks reddening, eyes bulging in sheer horror at the thought. "E-Excuse me? That is absolutely not what I am trying to do!"
"I know, your highness. I'm just teasing you," Satiana chuckled dryly.
They lapsed in silence, the quietness blanketing their atmosphere, turning it into something neither hateful nor lovable. Satiana fidgeted with the ends of her sleeves, poking at a few loose threads in an attempt to divert attention away from the struggling boy in front of her.
Stay calm, Satiana. You're not talking to him as a perpetrator of a crime. You're just another normal student, trying to befriend him.
She took a deep breath, placing a lid over the whirlwind of complicated emotions inside of her. Satiana stared unflinchingly straight into Dimitri's eyes. "I'm sorry. Perhaps teasing you was a little unbecoming of me."
"Oh, no. I don't mind at all. It's just…not many people find it easy to talk to me," Dimitri frowned, eyes filled with loneliness and sorrow as he glanced off to the side. "I am a prince, after all. The future king."
Satiana gulped loudly before she chuckled awkwardly again. "W-Well, to be honest, your status is definitely a threatening existence to me," she confessed while scratching her cheeks. "I'm not sure how I should speak to you. Forgive me. I'm only a commoner."
"No, please. Our statuses do not matter. Here, I am only another student in the Academy. Speaking of which…" his eyes trailed down her stature. "You are wearing our school uniform now, are you not?"
"Ah, so you noticed?" Satiana forced herself to smile, committing herself to small-talk with Dimitri. "I don't know if you've heard about this yet, but your new professor is actually Byleth."
Dimitri's eyes widened. "Byleth? That other mercenary we met earlier at dawn?"
Satiana nodded. "Yes, she is like an older sister to me. Lady Rhea appointed her as the head professor of the Blue Lions earlier. And, well…" she trailed off, sighing. "Due to special circumstances, I am also to join your class as another student. We will be officially introduced to the rest of the Blue Lions tomorrow morning, I believe."
Dimitri stared at her with bewilderment, the minute crinkle in his eyes betraying his curiosity. "That is quite surprising news. I had no idea she was to be our professor. And you are joining our class as well?"
"Yes, so we will be seeing each other fairly often from now on," Satiana said with a smile, though deep inside, she wanted to scream in despair.
"I-I see," Dimitri hummed in thought. "Then I guess it is my pleasure to have you with us, Miss Satiana."
"Please, just call me by my name," Satiana pleaded. "There's no need for you to speak so formally to me."
Dimitri blinked. "Oh, forgive me. I guess you're right. Now that we are to be classmates, I should address you properly as one." He coughed once before he held his hand out in front of him, a pleasant smile on his face. "Then, once again, welcome to the Blue Lions. It's a pleasure to have you with us, Satiana."
Satiana smiled back at him, reaching her hand out to meet his. "The pleasure is all mine, your highness."
"Please, just call me Dimitri as well. I insist," Dimitri suddenly said with a frown.
"What?! I wouldn't dare to," Satiana paled, panicking. "Y-You're the prince of Faerghus! How could I, a mere commoner, call you by your name?"
Dimitri narrowed his eyes on her. "Satiana, if I am to call you informally, then you will do so too. Even my close friends refuse to call me by my name. All I wish is for at least one person to treat me like a normal student." He crossed his arms across his chest, insisting with the pressure in his burning gaze.
Satiana winced. "W-Well, if you insist, I will call you by your name…uh…D-Dimitri," she stammered out awkwardly.
Dimitri huffed, nodding his head in satisfaction. "Thank you for your cooperation. Now, about why I called you out here…" he trailed off, eyes glancing off to the side. "I wish to talk to you more about what happened with, well, your family."
Satiana internally screamed, mentally scratching her head furiously.
Of course, it had to be about the Tragedy of Duscur. Dear Saint Seiros, for once, help this poor soul.
"Your highness— I mean, Dimitri. If possible, I do not wish to recall memories of my tragic past," Satiana plastered a sorrowful look on her face, pretending to blink tears away from her eyes as she forced herself to appear tearful.
Although Satiana never was a skillful actor, she prayed that her experience as an assassin would finally come to good use now. She would do anything at this point to steer the conversation to safer grounds.
Dimitri floundered, immediately reduced to a flustered mess. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you remember such terrible memories." He waved his hand in the air, sweat glistening on his forehead. "It's just…there was something I wanted to ask you."
"What is it, Dimitri?" Satiana asked, wiping false tears away from her eyelids.
He stared at her with sympathy, a frown plastered on his face. He gritted his teeth, swallowing loudly. "What do you think about the…the people who burned down your home?"
Satiana blinked once, then twice. Her nose crinkled in confusion. "T-That's what you wanted to ask me?"
Dimitri nodded stiffly. "I, to me, the ones who caused the Duscur Tragedy are nothing more than monsters. Savage beasts that deserve the harshest of punishments." He clenched his fists, eyes suddenly icy and dark. The temperature of their surroundings slightly dropped as he released a small part of his hidden anger. "I seek revenge. Is that not the same for you? That is what I wanted to ask." He stared at her directly with a hardened gaze, filled with determination and resolution.
Satiana wanted to hide away from his knowing gaze, but she was utterly trapped — entranced by the fire threatening to burn her whole. She gulped loudly, dropping her head to stare at the ground in shame. The rage simmering beneath the surface reminded her of herself, staring down with contempt at those mages begging for mercy under her feet. Although she felt like she was being suffocated under his pressure, a part of her also felt secretly relieved.
That the monstrous anger inside of him was pointed in the right direction: at her. Because she wholeheartedly believed she deserved to die the same painful deaths that she delivered to her enemies.
Although Jeralt and the others treated her with such love and care, a part of Satiana felt like she never deserved it. This second chance of hers. Just like Edelgard, she felt like she was also living on borrowed time. Time to redeem herself before she joined the pile of corpses haunting her.
She was a walking contradiction, wanting to be forgiven by her victims but at the same time seeking a death worthy of her sins.
Really, she was just a coward, hiding inside the skin of a wolf, trying to run away from her own ignorance that caused the death of others by her unknowing hands.
"You are right, Dimitri. I also agree with you," Satiana stared directly into Dimitri's eyes, her dark blue orbs shimmering with gleams of roiling darkness. "The ones who caused this entire incident, stealing the lives of many innocents…"
Those cloaked mages. The white-skinned monsters. The beasts. And…myself.
"Every last one of them deserves to die a painful death," she ended, eyes glazed with unleashed fury and sorrow.
The dining hall was crowded in the evening. Dimitri found himself strolling aimlessly through the empty seats, searching for his friends in the raucous fray of chattering with a tray of warm cheesy Verona stew in his hand. He spotted Sylvain from a distance, the red messy mop of hair hard to miss when it towered high above the average students. Swerving through the crowd, he settled down next to Sylvain.
Sylvain munched on his plate of pheasant roast with berry sauce, glancing languidly to the side as Dimitri slid into the seat beside him. He gulped, a charming grin on his face as usual. "Good evening, your highness. So how was your date with that so-called mercenary that caught your eyes?" He threw in a wink, much to Dimitri's chagrin.
"You never learn, do you?" Dimitri ignored Sylvain's comment, poking his spoon into the stew. "It went fine if that's what your asking."
"You better not be hiding something from us, your highness," Ingrid slid into the empty seat across Dimitri, frowning.
Dimitri smiled warmly at her, shaking his head. "I assure you, I am not hiding anything important from you. We had a pleasant talk with each other, and I found out that, perhaps, we may have more similarities between us than I thought," he pondered, savoring the intense flavor of the stew. "I think we will get along well."
"If that's what you say so, your highness," Sylvain replied, jabbing Dimitri lightly in the ribs with his elbow. "Knowing your inexperience with the ladies, I wouldn't want you to fall into the trap of some conniving woman who wants to use you for your status."
A serious gleam was hidden underneath his remarks said in jest, and Dimitri straightened his posture, staring into Sylvain's honey-brown eyes. "Sylvain, I am not a fool. I've been near enough nobles in my life for me to know when someone approaches me because of their…hidden agendas." He glanced off to the side, a brief look of sorrow flashing in his eyes. "She may be hiding a few things from me, but the emotions that I saw within her were real. Her words and gestures may attempt to deceive me, but her heart did not lie," Dimitri chuckled to himself as he remembered back to his conversation with Satiana.
Her declaration for vengeance — there was no lie in those words. The way she spat out those words like venom, glaring into the open air with such genuine fury and madness. He knew better than anyone how it felt to lose control of the darkness within himself, and he caught a small glimpse of that same, grueling beast inside of her.
Perhaps it may not have been the entire truth; Dimitri was accustomed to the art of lying, putting on a facade to protect himself. She may have put a tremendous effort into hiding the subtle ticks in her jaw or the flashing guilt in her eyes, but in his eyes, she hid nothing from the world. It was evident that she was trying to steer the conversation away from the Tragedy of Duscur.
Perhaps she truly didn't want to relive memories of her past; Dimitri would allow her that much. However, it felt as if she was also pleading him to listen to her. The piercing clarity in her eyes when she was faced with his unleashed menace moved his broken soul. He saw in them a cry for help — a lost child who didn't know what to do with the myriad of emotions that overwhelmed her in that moment of confrontation. She tried to hide her honest gaze away from him by lowering her head, but it was far too late.
Dimitri may not know what she hid from him, but he realized one damning fact about her. Satiana was a terrible liar. And for now, that was all that he needed to know. That something genuine was hidden underneath whatever barriers she may place in front of them.
"If that's what you believe, your highness, I will trust in your judgment," Ingrid complied.
"Well, it's not like you have to see her again. Maybe she does have a hidden agenda, but you can just avoid her from now on," Sylvain suggested with a shrug. "There's no reason to throw yourself at a suspicious individual just to find out what they're hiding."
Dimitri blinked. Then, he placed his spoon and fork down gently on the plate. He coughed once into his palms, then looked up at Sylvain and Ingrid, folding his hands neatly across his lap. "About that, it appears that she will be joining our class starting tomorrow morning."
At the sudden announcement, Sylvain choked on the piece of pheasant meat in his mouth. His back hunched as he lapsed into a coughing fit. Ingrid had her mouth hanging wide open, frozen in shock as the piece of beast meat teppanyaki awkwardly drooped from her fork, landing on the plate below.
"W-What?!" Sylvain gasped for air as he spoke, tears blurring his vision. "She's joining our class? But why?" His fork clinked against the plate as he dropped it in shock at the news.
Dimitri shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know. Also, another mercenary is going to become our professor. If I recall correctly, her name was Byleth. Perhaps you guys have met her already. Remember, the blue-haired woman?" Dimitri pointed out.
Ingrid's eyes widened in recognition. "Oh! It's that woman who came by our classroom and greeted us in the afternoon. So she's our new professor."
"So we have two mercenaries joining our ranks tomorrow. What a surprise," Sylvain exaggerated, throwing his arms into the air before he suddenly narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, right. This all sounds fishy to me. Why would Lady Rhea send two mercenaries our way?"
"I have to admit, it's quite strange," Ingrid trailed off, musing in thought. "Of all people, she chose that mercenary to be our professor. Sure, she probably is very skilled in the art of combat. But otherwise, who knows?" She trailed off, skeptical about Byleth's abilities.
"Regardless of what we think, the decision has already been made and finalized," Dimitri commented. "We'll just have to accept it." Then, he paused, blinking in realization. "Ah, I almost forgot. Try not to act so hostile towards Satiana. My concerns were unfounded, after all."
"If you say so, your highness," Sylvain complied, stretching his arms behind his back. "If you ever want me to delve into her secrets, just ask me. I'm the best man for the job," Sylvain smirked. "Wooing a woman is an easy game for me."
An image of Satiana and Byleth using the sword to defeat the bandits flashed in Dimitri's mind, and he stifled a snicker. "Yeah, about that, Sylvain," Dimitri snorted. "I highly doubt your flirting skills will work on those two. They might just cut that flowery tongue of yours before you even get to speak."
Sylvain gasped in feigned horror, hugging himself tightly with his arms. "Oh no, not my tongue! That's one of my best assets, if you know what I mean," he shot a loving wink in Ingrid's direction, hearts fluttering in the air.
Ingrid visibly gagged at him. She pointed the knife in her hands at him. "Lay off with the sugar, Sylvain. It won't work on me."
"Oh, Ingrid, my dear friend," Sylvain laughed wholeheartedly. "You never change do you?"
"So do you, Sylvain," Dimitri pointed out with a roll of his eyes.
The rest of the conversation was filled with the usual stories of Sylvain's failed attempts to woo different ladies around town. Dimitri and Ingrid practically excused themselves from the conversation, choosing to close their eyes and ears as they quickly finished their meal.
Satiana stared absentmindedly through the windows of Byleth's dorm room. The moonlight splashed down its watery white-silver glow on the monastery grounds — the lustrous, argent disk high up in the sky. The clouds parted, and Satiana occupied herself with the serene beauty of it all, hoping to distract her from the dark thoughts creeping up the back of her mind.
She sighed loudly, rolling herself on the bed like a restless child, pulling the covers over her head.
The sound of pen slashing on paper halted, and Byleth spun on her chair, facing Satiana with a frown. "What are you doing?"
Satiana blankly poked her head out from under the blanket. "Playing dead?" she deadpanned.
Byleth rolled her eyes. "Like that would do you any good. Just face it. We're stuck here for a while." Byleth returned to the menial task of paperwork, scratching fervently on the pages.
Satiana unraveled herself from the blanket, leaning comfortably on her sides. She pushed herself up with her elbows and peered at Byleth with curiosity. "What are you writing so furiously about?"
"Notes for tomorrow's lecture," Byleth replied without looking at her way, scribbling random notes on the pages. "I can't walk in empty-handed as their new professor. At the least, I can make up a few pointers to teach them about combat."
Satiana made a noise in amusement. She imagined Byleth, standing in front of the classroom with a notebook in her hands, pointing at the blackboard with a stick. Satiana sat up on the bed, crossing her legs neatly. "You know, I really can't imagine you being a professor. You're more fit for, I don't know, a sword instructor."
Byleth shrugged, casually flipping through the pages in her hand. The sound of papers rustling echoed in the small room, and Satiana relaxed into the bed at the rhythmic quality of the sound. Finally, Byleth placed her pen down and stretched the limbs. She gathered the notes and stapled them into a neat stack.
"I don't know if I'll be a good professor for the kids, but I should at least try my best," Byleth replied.
Satiana smirked at her. "I never imagined you'd be so serious about your new job. I mean, from a mercenary to a professor that looks after teenagers? That's one hell of a career change."
Byleth turned towards Satiana. "And you, I never imagined you'd be so opposed to being a student in the academy."
Satiana grimaced, scowling at Byleth's remarks that hit straight to the point. "It's not like I don't want to be a student here. To be honest, I don't really care. It's just that I've spent my whole life every day fighting to survive." She glanced down at her hands, squeezing them lightly. "Fighting isn't a game to me. It's always been life or death. That's why a part of me feels uneasy, you know." She closed her eyes, sighing. "A peaceful life enjoying learning alongside kids my own age. That's not a life I ever imagined for myself nor do I see myself enjoying such serenity when the world outside is, as you know, hell."
Byleth nodded in understanding. "Of course, I understand your sentiments to an extent. I've spent my whole life as a mercenary too, drifting aimlessly from place to place, taking on random jobs for money." She reclined in her chair, back slumping against the wood as she glanced up at the ceiling. "But maybe, it's good that we found ourselves here."
Satiana perked up at Byleth's words, shooting her a confused look. "What do you mean?" She tilted her head to the side.
Byleth's gaze flickered towards her. "What I mean is, because we have faced hell before, we now have the ability to prevent others from following our bloody paths."
Satiana's eyes slowly widened. A strange emotion seized her as Byleth's words resonated deeply within her. Satiana had spent most of her time worrying about herself, pitying her complicated situation, struggling to make the most out of her remaining life. She never had the time nor leisure to think about how she could change someone else's life with her actions. Her guilt was always directed inwards towards her own helplessness, and she fought to grow stronger so that she could protect her newfound family and take revenge on the enemy.
As bloody as her hands were, Satiana never thought she would be able to help someone from straying on the wrong path. There was only one path left for her to take: the bloody path of redemption and revenge. She could never be a good role model for others.
But to think Byleth believed that she could…the thought was very unnerving.
"All I know is how to survive in this cruel world," Satiana spoke quietly, tuning her attention to the small patch of dirt on Byleth's blanket. "And how to swing the sword. There's nothing I could possibly offer to these kids." She wiggled her toes absentmindedly.
Byleth had the same blank look on her face, but her eyes shone with confidence. "But you do, Satiana."
"I do?" Satiana frowned.
Byleth nodded, a small shadow of a smile on her face. "Believe me. I know first-handed. You gave me something worthwhile. A valuable lesson."
Byleth's words sounded like a poor joke to Satiana, and she laughed out loud. "Really? I taught you something? That's got to be a joke, Byleth." She snickered to herself. "You were the one who always taught me new tricks on the battlefield. What could I have ever given you in exchange?"
Byleth closed her eyes, a genuine smile now plastered on her features. "Let's just say your strong will to fight and drive to survive is very addictive. And you possess a pure, honest heart. You may have chosen the worst path available for you, but it is an honorable one."
Satiana froze, gaping widely at Byleth in stunned surprise. She choked on thin air, coughing in embarrassment, ears flushing red. "W-What the hell is wrong with you? Did you eat something weird at the dining hall?" She sputtered, her heart swelling with an emotion she could not identify.
Byleth stifled a snort at Satiana's genuine reaction. "It's nothing. You should have more confidence in yourself, Satiana. It'll do you good, I promise."
Satiana pouted, slamming her face into the pillow on her lap. "Well, if you say so…I'll try to get along with the other kids," she muttered. "But don't forget the real reason we're here. We still have a deal to uphold with Rodrigue."
"I know," Byleth contemplated, tapping her fingers lightly against the desk. "The library seems like the best place to search for more information."
"I'll go through the books there tomorrow," Satiana decided. "Meanwhile, you just relax and get used to your new job. It seems like things will be busier from now on." Satiana swung her legs over the edge of the bed, sliding off it. "I'll be heading to bed, then. You should sleep soon, Byleth. Can't have you sleeping on the job on your first day, right?" Satiana teased, heading to the exit.
Byleth scoffed, waving Satiana's flippant comment off with her hand. "Same to you," she uttered as Satiana closed the door to Byleth's room behind her.
Imperial Year 1180
Great Tree Moon - 23
Dear Sir Rodrigue,
This is Jeralt. Something urgent has come up and Lady Rhea, the archbishop, has asked me to return to Garreg Mach. As you know, I used to be a part of the Knights of Seiros. It seems she wants me to officially return back to the monastery. I've already agreed to her request. Due to special circumstances, I am unable to refuse her. I apologize for the inconvenience this brings to our cooperation.
However, we plan to keep up our end of the deal. Byleth is now a professor at the Officer's Academy in charge of your son, I believe. Satiana has also joined their class. I know this may prove to be a nuisance, especially considering Satiana's true status in Fodlan. However, I believe having her infiltrate the Church of Seiros might also be a good idea, especially if we want more information regarding the Western Church and its affiliation with the Empire. After all, if there's someone who knows about the movements of crest stones across borders, it's Lady Rhea and her followers.
I hope this doesn't dampen your plans too much. Forgive me for the inconvenience.
P.S. — I plan on sending Renard to the Western Church to infiltrate their ranks. Lady Rhea does not need to know about his existence.
Sincerely,
Jeralt Eisner
"So, you want me to infiltrate the Western Church?" Renard questioned, eying Jeralt with suspicion.
The two were seated in a tavern located a few hills down from the monastery in a small town. The tavern buzzed with gossip and travelers, sharing heroic tales of their adventure. It was the best place to have a secret meeting, mainly because the crowd drowned out everyone else's voices, creating a perfect camouflage.
Jeralt jugged a glass of beer down his throat, wiping his lips with the end of his sleeves. "That's right. Satiana will investigate the Central Church while you go ahead and infiltrate the Western Church. You can just pretend to be a traveler, offering donations to the Church in exchange for the Goddess' protection. Meanwhile, explore the Church and search for any suspicious individuals."
"Sounds like a good plan to me," Renard copied Jeralt's action, slugging the jar's contents down his throat. "That means I'll be operating far from you guys for a while. When should I come back?"
"Whenever you find promising results," Jeralt replied with a shrug, munching down a skewer of roasted meat. "Just don't go get yourself killed."
Renard scoffed, rolling his eyes. He took a deep breath, the smell of stale ale and body odor filling his lungs. He coughed loudly, glaring at the nasty drunks on the table next to them. "I won't die that easily, Jeralt. Also, can we not talk at a tavern next time? This place is too crowded, and it's burning hot in here!" He yanked his collar, letting cool air breeze inside his shirt.
Jeralt laughed. "Sure, if you can find a better place to do these kinds of secret talks."
"I know a good place underground, if that's what you're looking for," Renard suddenly spoke, eyes twinkling with mischief.
Jeralt raised an eyebrow. "Hm? And where would that be?"
Renard placed the jug down on the table and smirked. He leaned in closer to Jeralt, glancing off to the side to make sure no one was eavesdropping on them. "Well, you see, I know a place underneath the monastery called the Abyss," he whispered harshly.
Jeralt's jaw dropped, eyes widening in surprise. "What?! You've been to the Abyss before?" He shouted, slamming his fist on the table, sending the plates into a clattering fit.
"Shh! Keep your voice down!" Renard placed a finger on his lips as he glared at Jeralt. "This is top secret stuff, okay? We can't have just anyone strolling into the Abyss."
Jerald muttered an apology under his breath, ignoring the strange looks the other customers were giving him. He leaned in closer to Renard, narrowing his eyes. "I thought you'd never been to the monastery before. How do you know about the Abyss?"
"True, I never went to the monastery before, but I didn't say anything about being underneath it." Renard wiggled his eyebrows in amusement. "I spent a few years living in the sewers of the Abyss when I was running away after killing my father. It's the perfect place to have secret dealings. That's what the place is used for anyway."
"Take me there tomorrow. We might as well talk to the dark merchants down there. Get some information out of them," Jeralt ordered.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll take you there tomorrow. So, when should I leave for the Empire?" Renard changed the topic. A waitress walked by, and he raised his hand, asking for a refill.
"As soon as you can get your troops ready. Don't forget to say goodbye to Satiana before you go. She'll miss you," Jeralt added.
Renard chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, that girl will be fine. She'll make some new friends at the Academy. I'm sure of it. Besides, she's already strong enough to work alone without me having to babysit her. Don't forget, Jeralt. I trained her myself. She'll be fine," Renard insisted, a genuine smile on his face as he fiddled with the empty skewer sticks.
Jeralt went quiet for a brief moment, staring at Renard's peaceful expression. Then, he smiled. "You've grown attached to her, haven't you?"
Renard perked up, laughing out loud. "Who, me? Jeralt, you know I don't get attached easily. She's just my one and only student, so I have to pay extra attention to her. That's all there is to it."
But the way Renard's mossy green eyes brightened up at the conversation gave his true feelings away. The man wasn't being honest — not at all. Jeralt had spent years by the man's side, and he knew Renard was never one to attach himself to anyone, aside from Jeralt himself, that is. Even with Jeralt, Renard simply chose to stay by his side because he took a strange liking to him. Who knows when the infatuation will run out?
Renard was distrustful of everyone by nature, and that side of him showed up the first day he met Satiana. But now, he was genuinely enjoying the kid's company. Jeralt knew that to Renard, Satiana had wormed her way into his heart, settling deep inside of him.
Now, Jeralt was certain. If, by any chance, something happened to him, his crew of mercenaries would be okay. He was their leader, their stronghold, and pillar. Without him, there would be no mercenary group. But even without him, he was confident this band of misfits would continue to exist, perhaps changing leaders along the way.
He handpicked all of its members, trusting his own judgment of character. They were all good-hearted folks who grew stronger together, and Satiana was the final missing piece, the cogs falling into place.
Everyone had changed ever since she joined. Renard, Byleth, and himself. His family had grown larger, and Jeralt finally found himself truly at peace.
"Hey, Renard?" Jeralt found himself indulging in nostalgia.
"What's up?" Renard replied in a muffled voice, mouth filled with meat.
Jeralt clasped his hands together on the table and smiled. "If something ever happens to me, I leave them to you."
His piercing gaze filled with such heavy and genuine emotions stole Renard's breath away. Renard paused, frozen stiff. He gulped loudly before his eyes softened. "Those are my words. If I don't come back, you know what to do."
Jeralt's eyes widened for a brief moment before he guffawed out loud, leaning his head back. "Hah! I won't be dying on you that easily, so don't you dare go and lose yourself to a bunch of old priests."
Renard smirked. "Of course, my dear friend. It's a promise."
They clinked glasses, chugging the contents down in one go, sealing the oath.