A/N: Uh, sorry for the delay folks. I busied myself with speed-running through Three Hopes LOL. After playing through the new game, I've realized that there are some new ideas/battles I want to incorporate into this story as well so I've been editing a lot of stuff in my planning document for this fic. However, I will re-iterate that this story will continue to go down the original path I planned, staying more true to the characterization shown in Three Houses.
Anyway, we now close the doors on the Lonato Rebellion arc. Hope the small changes I made were enjoyable! This chapter is longer than usual, surpassing 10k words because I feel like I owe you all more for being late with my update schedule lol. Feel free to take a break as you digest everything! It's a long ride.
Also, many thanks to the new favorites, followers, and reviews! I see the fandom has been rekindled woohoo!
Here's the invite code to our humble fire emblem discord as usual: u89gs745fn
[White Clouds]
Chapter 19: The Aftermath
"It's you…" a gravelly old voice spoke from his position mounted atop of a horse. His blue eyes seethed with barely, restrained rage as he readied his spear and shield. "Only you, I must kill with my own hands…!"
Catherine scoffed, rolling her eyes. She balanced her sword on her shoulder, eying Lonato with disdain. "Sorry, but I no longer go by that name. The only name I answer to is Catherine. It's unfortunate that things have come to this, Lord Lonato."
"I can speak the same to you, Cassandra," Lonato spat. "To think they would reduce you to nothing but a mere dog of the Church. If Christophe saw you now, he'd never be able to lie down in peace."
Catherine barked out in laughter. "Hey, sorry to disappoint you, but I know Christophe better than anyone else." She glanced off to the side, eyes flashing with something akin to regret. "Whether or not I like it, that is. Regardless, you have raised your spear in the Goddess's direction. You must pay for your crimes today, Lord Lonato!"
"Lord Lonato!" A group of villagers and soldiers appeared from behind him. They raised their weapons up high into the sky, roaring with confidence. "We will be behind you all the way. Damn church dog. You will experience the same pain and anguish that Lord Lonato has suffered!" The troop prepared to charge, tilting their weapons at Catherine's infuriating face.
"Halt!" An authoritative voice bellowed, causing them to pause in their steps.
The villagers turned to each other, tilting their heads in confusion. One soldier swallowed audibly before he addressed his lord who galloped up beside him. "L-Lord Lonato? What is the matter?"
"...Drop your weapons."
The soldier gawked. "W-What did you just say?"
"I told you to drop your weapons. Leave the battlefield. This is not the right place for you to die in. There must be someone left to take care of Gaspard territory, after all." Lonato turned his back to the villagers, head drooping down as he galloped back towards Catherine. A dark shadow covered his eyes from sight and the villagers raised a commotion in disagreement behind him. But he paid them no attention.
Catherine's eyes widened. Her grip on the Thunderbrand loosened as she stabbed the sword into the ground. "What is the meaning of this, Lord Lonato?"
"Yeah, what she said!" a random soldier barked.
"Lord Lonato, do not worry about us. We are prepared to sacrifice our lives to protect you and your cause!" Another villager screamed in a fit of rage.
"We must open the eyes of Fodlan to the truth! The Church has inflicted wrongs, parading as an absolute figure of authority when all they have done is order countless massacres under the name of the Goddess for their own greedy needs!" A Gaspard knight broke through the commotion, swinging his sword in a rage. "As long as we are by Lord Lonato's side, we have nothing to fear for the Goddess is watching over us all!"
"Silence!" Lonato screamed, his voice filled with fury and anguish echoing throughout the open terrain. "As your lord, I command you to retreat. I will be the only one marching forward from this point onwards. We have already lost, anyway." He stared off into the distance, noticing the group of villagers fainted on the ground. "It is only right to cut our losses. I order you all to leave. If you do not wish to, at least do not interfere with my battle."
"B-But sir!"
"This is my last command to you all as your lord. Live in my stead. Spread word of the Church's misdeeds. But do not follow down the same path I have," Lonato's voice dimmed, eyes softening. "My remaining son has opened my eyes to the light. I do not have any right to drag you all into this slaughter with me. However, I have a duty to fulfill in Christophe's stead and so I must continue forward."
The villagers and knights stood knee-deep in reverberating silence. They stared at each other, some shedding silent tears while others embraced each other. The sound of weapons dropping to the ground with a solid thud echoed down the terrain.
For their lord had commanded and as loyal subjects, they would follow his orders to wherever it led them — whether it was to salvation or through hellfire.
Lonato raised his lance high into the air, the blade gleaming gold against the blazing sunlight, casting golden rays around his sturdy silhouette. It gave him the illusion of vigor, the warmth acting as the Goddess's blessings as he glowed under the halo. For a moment, the youth returned to him and he swelled in a sudden surge of adrenaline. Lonato slashed the lance down, cutting a crevice open in the ground ahead of him. The earth quaked under his force, parting ways for the now rejuvenated man.
"My dear loyal men. I will leave the rest to you. Thunderstrike Cassandra!" Lonato roared, barging forward on his mount, spear pointing at Catherine. "Only you, I must slay with my own hands! It was your wretched zealotry that killed my son and you will pay with your life!"
"Oh no, the battle has already begun!" Ingrid's voice echoed through the battlefield as the Blue Lions reached the open clearing while panting for air.
Catherine was troubled by Lonato's sudden change, her usual confident demeanor faltering as she clumsily parried Lonato's blow with the Thunderbrand. The weapon glowed red, emanating sparks of a mysterious-like aura as she pushed haphazardly against Lonato's weapon, sending it rebounding up into the air, exposing his chest plate. She forced herself to focus on the enemy in front of her, hand resting on the sword for a split moment before she took a step forward, thrusting the sword at Lonato's heart.
The blade crashed against algid steel as Lonato blocked with his shield. The Thunderbrand sparked more intensely, sending crackles of electricity flying into the air. Lonato yanked on the reins of his horse, spinning himself around in a circle as he prepared to skewer Catherine on his spear with a well-timed tempest lance. Catherine barely leaped out of the way of the barging horse, the man's spear scraping past her shoulder, sending an ear-splitting screech of metal into the air, making the onlookers wince.
Lonato rounded on his horse, preparing to strike Catherine from behind, when Catherine's entire figure began to sizzle. She lowered her stance, gripping her sword with both hands, and swung in a large arc. An explosion of red sparks, light, and heat blinded Lonato, and he charged blindly, only to find his spear slicing through empty air. His eyes widened in surprise, his ears tuning in on the sound of armor clinking behind him, and he whirled around in a stupefied state.
Catherine had seemingly vanished behind him with such monstrous speed no one realized what was happening until a bloodcurdling scream parted from Lonato's lips as the Thunderbrand tore clean through his armor from behind. Part of her sword landed on the horse's behind and the creature brayed in pain, thrashing wildly as it roamed across the grassland, carrying Lonato along with it on a mad hunt.
Lonato flew off the horse, crashing to the ground in a bloody heap.
Catherine had no mercy, sprinting towards him. Lonato's spine was broken, yet the hunched man scrambled onto his feet, voice box screeching as he blocked the oncoming blow with his shield. But his lack of balance and Catherine's raw power proved fatal. The impact sent Lonato's shield twirling across the ground, bouncing off into the far distance. Lonato stumbled backward, groaning in pain. He forced himself into a defensive stance, holding his lance protectively in front of him.
Compared to his previously majestic regal form, he was reduced to a shadow of himself. His white hair billowed behind him, his expression bloodied and haggard as he stood there, panting for air, limbs trembling like a newborn fawn. The proud insignia of the Gaspard House on his armor had been shattered to pieces, now a broken symbol mirroring the state of his land and people.
"L-Lord Lonato!" A villager couldn't stand the one-sided battle and tried to interfere, scrambling to Lonato with fat tears rolling down his face. A group of Gaspard knights threw themselves at him, clawing at his skin as they dragged him away from the battlefield. They all huddled, sobbing in anguish and inexplicable pain, not of the physical kind but of the soul.
Dimitri felt his head throbbing at the tragic scene of misery. He quaked under the tyranny of his nightmares, images of hot searing red flames flickering to life in his head. He winced and clutched his head, willing the image to fade into the shadows of his mind.
"Your highness, are you alright?" Dedue was by his side, hands holding Dimitri's shoulder for support.
Dimitri shook his head, blue eyes weary and dull. There was a complicated storm brewing within them, a raging maelstrom of torment, quiet anger, gut-twisting sorrow, and mental fatigue. He unconsciously trod forward. "Lonato…" he called out in a weak and pathetic voice, hitched and breathy.
Despite the distance between them, Lonato somehow heard his phantom-like whisper. The old man slowly turned his head to meet Dimitri's forlorn gaze.
"Please, stop. Lonato, I… I sympathize with your position. I really do," Dimitri stammered out. "Your heart yearns for revenge and you shall have it. But at what cost, Lonato? Think of your followers. They need you as their pillar of support."
"Your highness," Lonato chuckled, startling everyone with the deep affection and care lacing his tone. He choked on his own blood and wiped his lips with his sleeves, leaving a trail of blood behind. The crimson red marred his features, highlighting the cold smirk on his lips. "It is regrettable that I must leave you so young like this. I cannot stop now, your highness. It is far too late. I have already committed a grave sin. I will not drag any innocents down with me any further, but my sword yearns for the head of that heretic, and I must offer it to my son. Only then will his shadow leave me alone!"
Dimitri's blood froze as Lonato's words sunk into his mind. His heart skipped a beat, thundering in his ears as sweat poured down his paling cheeks. Lonato's words struck a deep chord within him and Dimitri found his vision blurring, whether out of sympathetic tears or his waning consciousness he did not know. He leaned against Dedue's hold for support.
"Give up, Lord Lonato," Catherine said, sauntering towards Lonato's wilted form with her Thunderbrand sizzling in the air. "Your time has come."
"...So it seems." Lonato turned his eyes away from Dimitri. He mustered up the rest of his strength and shot Catherine a dirty glare. "Even if I die, I will take your head along with me, Cassandra. Mark my words. You will never have a single day of peace ahead of you. Every day, plague and illness shall torment you. Even in death, I will come to you and curse you until the end of time. One day, you will face a worthless death, your pride ripped to shreds, honor shattered to a million irreparable shards. You and your entire band of heretics will drown in the tears and blood of your victims. Justice will be served upon your kind!" Lonato screamed in a fit of insanity, eyes blazing with such hatred and loathing it made even Catherine flinch.
Catherine chuckled wryly. "Don't worry, Lord Lonato. I have never slept peacefully since that fateful day." Her gaze hardened, underpinned with determination and resolution. "I live to serve Lady Rhea. Regardless of your reasons, I have a duty to bring justice. Anyone who turns their blades against the Church will be punished."
Lonato levelled his gaze at her. He stumbled forward, eyes barely conscious as blood poured out of his open back, the pain numb and icy. He lifted the lance upwards. "This is the final blow, Cassandra!" Lonato hoarsely screamed as he bumbled forward on quivering legs, lance quivering mid-air. He pushed himself forward on nothing but pure will and determination.
Catherine closed her eyes, stilling the complicated emotions inside her with one silent prayer. "Farewell… Lord Lonato." Her eyes snapped open, and the Thunderbrand flashed, ripping through the open air, sending a piercing screeching sound through the air as she charged forward—
A sudden burst of light and the plains warped. A cloaked figure floated down from the sky, landing right between the two opponents.
The crowd stared in deafening silence. Lonato's spear shattered Catherine's armor, landing near her shoulder. On the other hand, Catherine's Thunderbrand landed on a steel sword. Her blow was parried, sending the Thunderbrand clattering backward with overwhelming strength. Catherine stumbled backward, eyes bulging wide with shock at the interference.
"You… who are you—"
*Splat*
The gut-wrenching sound of blood splashing against the ground made Catherine turn her gaze behind the cloaked figure. Another sword had punctured right through Lonato's breastplate and torso, piercing his heart with one fatal blow.
Lonato coughed a pool of crimson red blood, lifeless eyes staring at the cloaked figure. Glassy eyes widened imperceptibly with recognition before the darkness devoured him. His body slumped forward, leaning against the cloaked figure who whispered in his ear.
"I will not let you die a villain, Lord Lonato. May you return to your son's arms in peace," the cloaked figure offered their condolences. Then, they brushed Lonato's body off their shoulder, letting his corpse fall to the ground with a resounding thud.
No one spoke a word. Even Catherine was stunned speechless. A thousand questions rang in the crowd's minds as they drowned in silence. The long battle had ended, but not in the way any of them could've ever imagined.
Byleth was the first to break the silence. "It appears a different group targeted Lord Lonato. Perhaps the Western Church who incited him into rebellion," Byleth spoke suggestively, eyes sparkling with realization.
"W-What just happened…?" The villagers stared at each other, dumbfounded.
"P-Professor, what is going on—" Dimitri started, only to freeze as he caught a sudden shift in movement from the cloaked figure.
The cloaked figure darted across the fields, heading straight into the forest. Byleth's knowing eyes trailed after the figure, and she started sprinting after them. "Catherine, I leave the cleaning up to you. We will follow the cloaked man," Byleth barked out a swift order.
Catherine blinked in confusion. "W-What? I… s-sure?" she stammered, shocked at the sudden turn of events.
"W-Wait a minute, professor!" Dimitri yelled after her as he followed Byleth's pace. "What is going on?"
Byleth spared a glance over her shoulder and placed her index finger in front of her mouth. "Shh, do not make a loud ruckus. We don't want anyone to follow us. There is nothing to worry about. This is all going according to our plan."
"Our plan…?" Dedue mumbled under his breath as he jogged up beside Dimitri. He remembered the way the cloaked figure parried Catherine's blow with precision while simultaneously skewering Lonato through the heart with the accuracy of a well-trained warrior. Realization dawned and his eyes widened. "I see. That cloaked figure was a dual wielder."
Ingrid perked up from the back of the group, nose crinkling in thought. "A dual wielder…? The only person who uses two swords we know is…!"
"So, it's her. She was the one who killed Lord Lonato," Felix muttered, copper-brown orbs darkening. He scoffed, sound harsher than intended. "In the end, she couldn't help herself, huh?"
Sylvain patted Felix on the shoulder, a permanent frown tracing his features. "Don't be quick to judge. If she didn't do it, Catherine would've. Lord Lonato refused to back down. Someone had to end him." Then, Sylvain chuckled dryly, shaking his head vigorously as if to chase away the remnants of anxiety surrounding him. "Maybe this was the better result. To be honest, I didn't want to be the one to deal him the fatal blow," he confessed, the wind whispers stealing his breath away.
Everyone went silent.
No one wanted to admit it, but he mirrored all of their sentiments. Seeing the way Lonato cursed Catherine so openly and vile-like with such raw emotion — an endless well of pure animosity. It was downright terrifying and haunting. And the man who stood tall, broad back filled with pride and life, fighting under the Gaspard banner to protect his people, was now reduced to a mere corpse, joining the faceless apparitions of the deceased he left behind.
It was a reminder for the students — that life was indeed so fragile, so fleeting, and so futile. This was a prime example of what the professor warned them before. A worthless death on the battlefield. For the sake of broken pride and honor. A reckless struggle. A battle already lost from the start.
In the end, Lonato accomplished nothing before his death but accumulating innocent blood dirtying his land.
But the students vowed to never forget this day. Lonato's last moments. He may have been a rebel, but he did not die a villain. The church may never forgive him, but to the students, especially those who walked down the path of chivalry, they knew clearly.
Lonato died like a true knight.
He was no rogue or rabid beast, driven to the end of despair, like the church portrayed him as. He made mistakes and atoned for his sins with his life while fighting for what he believed in. Regardless of his previous actions, in the final fateful moment, he returned to the same Lonato they knew all along. Righteous, chivalric, and proud.
"We're here," Byleth spoke from the front, snapping the students out of their daze.
It was an open clearing in the forest, secluded from outside interference. There were signs of campfire — burnt ashes littered the ground, the grass slightly tinged by wildfire. Two tents were set up near the black circle of rocks. The door flapped against the violent windstorm picking up around them.
The cloaked figure stood in the center of the open field, a small pool of blood dripping from underneath. They flicked the hood of their cloak back, exposing weary deep blue eyes filled to the brim with sorrow and unfettered tear stains, dry on their rapidly paling skin.
"Byleth," Satiana croaked. She wobbled as she took a step forward, the grip on her swords loosening as they fell to the grass below. "Ashe and Renard need healing. Now. Head and back wounds." The girl's speech became broken, voice dry from obvious dehydration and fatigue. Her eyes twitched, lids drifting downward. "Mission… complete."
She fell headfirst to the ground and the Blue Lions descended into chaos.
They set camp deep inside the Magdred forest, far away from the Church's reach. Although they had plenty of time to make it back to the monastery, all of them were running blank on fuel. Combined with the mental strain from Lonato's cruel death, none of them were in the right shape or form to travel miles, especially when they had three casualties with them.
They had spent the entire afternoon dealing with the aftermath of the attack; the Knights of Seiros returned early after clearing up the pile of corpses while the Blue Lions retreated into the forest under the guise of searching for the mysterious cloaked figure.
Of course, that same person, along with two other men, were now sleeping innocently inside one of the spare tents Byleth brought along with her.
The Blue Lions huddled around the fire with leather blankets wrapped around them. They dozed off under a sky of perfect midnight velvet and blinking stars, their patterns ever-changing. It was an uncomfortable tranquility when contrasted with the rebellion that ended mere hours ago. Nevertheless, the students appreciated the dim sequin-like glow of the moon and stars. It gave them hope for the breaking dawn, perhaps even chasing away some of their nightmares from the bloody carnage they saw on their walk back to the forest.
Leave it to their professor to be prepared for any mishap during missions.
The Blue Lions did not know how she did it, but perhaps Byleth was a grand wizard in disguise because there was no other explanation for the nine different tents she packed into that tiny bag of hers. Not to mention, the professor was fully prepared with cooking knives, a pot, tons of fishes — airmid pikes, white trouts, and teutates loaches — even a bag of exotic spices and tea leaves. Really, her bag was like a bottomless treasure vault.
Mercedes crawled out from one tent, her eyes drooping low from exhaustion. She yawned, hiding her lips behind her palms as she blinked rapidly into the night. "All of their conditions are stabilized now. For now, we should let them rest for the night." Mercedes's diagnosis created a ripple of sighs as the Blue Lions exhaled in relief.
"Mercie, head in and rest," Annette suggested. "You've been healing all of our cuts and bruises since the afternoon. I don't want you to collapse on us, too."
Mercedes nodded. "Thank you, Annie. I think I'll take you up on the offer."
Dimitri smiled kindly at her. "Please, rest well, Mercedes. We'll wake you up when it's morning. Do not worry about us."
"I appreciate it, Dimitri. Then, good night everyone!" she spoke before she headed to her own tent underneath a large forest tree. She zipped up the flapping door and dived into the comforting promise of sleep.
The conversation halted, each student concentrating on their own thoughts and questions. Many had burning questions regarding Satiana and Ashe's whereabouts, but both of them were out of commission. They would have to wait till later to ask; their professor refused to elaborate anything, busying herself with the mundane chore of cooking dinner or taking the role of night watch.
Sylvain sat cross-legged on a giant log near the campfire, honey-brown irises gleaming golden under the resonating heat as he stared at Byleth, who sat with her eyes closed while leaning on a tree stump.
Although he acted flippantly most of the time, pretending to be a dull-headed fool with nothing but cotton candy for brains, his closest friends knew he possessed a sharp mind. Sylvain never voiced out his opinions out of a lifelong habit of pretending to be dimwitted, but that didn't mean he was non-observant.
Out of the Blue Lions, Sylvain was the only one who could read Byleth's expressions. Of course, not to the same accuracy as Satiana, who had a head start because of her close relationship with Byleth. But spending a life near fat-faced nobles who loved using backhanded comments gave Sylvain the edge with reading the genuine sentiments hidden behind the different masks people loved to put on.
For the first time, ever since he met Byleth, he caught a glimpse beneath that stoic poker face. It was when she confronted Catherine. There was a genuine spark of anger roiling inside those cerulean orbs. Where it came from, he could not fathom. Whatever it was Catherine said to her, it struck a chord in Byleth and made her uncharacteristically seethe in fury.
Sylvain bit his lips, chewing over a proper question. Perhaps it was time to unmask the true face behind the Ashen Demon. Did she genuinely care about the students? Or did she have some secret agenda?
Byleth was Satiana's elder sister on paper and anyone with proper brain cells could deduce that Byleth also had a role to play with Rodrigue's schemes. Although he gave Satiana the benefit of the doubt, it was a different story from the blank-faced professor in front of him.
What reason did she have to stay here, teaching them?
"Professor, I think you owe us an explanation," Sylvain broke the silence. Byleth startled out of her daze, gaze zoning in on Sylvain's frown. "We took a detour during the battle so we could engage the villagers without having to harm them. I'm happy you listened to our pleas. Really, I am grateful." His forehead creased up in confusion. "But was that it? Did you let us act freely because you agreed with our ideals? Because you wanted to be a proper professor?"
Byleth's cerulean vision glowed mysteriously under the silver gleam. "All I did was provide you with the opportunity to choose your own paths. Is it strange of me to do so?"
"Well, to be quite honest…" Sylvain rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I expected you to follow Lady Rhea's orders to a tee. I mean, think about it." Sylvain rubbed his chin. "We let a lot of the villagers survive. Some of them were even Gaspard soldiers. Catherine made a brilliant point earlier. There's no guarantee the survivors of this incident won't gather forces and raise their arms against the church again, this time under the pretense of revenge for their fallen lord." Honey-brown orbs sharpened, and Sylvain narrowed his eyes. "It'll be all our fault if another massacre happens again. And you let us do whatever we pleased. Did you agree with our judgment? Or did you give us a chance because you wanted to be a kind professor?"
Felix scoffed, rolling his eyes. "So are you praising the professor or picking a bone with her? Pick one side and stick with it."
Ingrid fixed Sylvain a blank stare. "It's not like you to act so smart like this, Sylvain."
Sylvain gasped, clutching his heart dramatically in feigned hurt. "You guys wound me. I was being serious for once, you know!" he whined, lips perking outwards into a pout.
"Sylvain is right with his concerns, though," Dedue responded. "I would like to hear what the professor is thinking."
Byleth hummed in thought, leaning off the tree. She lifted one leg up, placing her chin on her knee. "Sylvain, you are mistaken about one thing. I did not give you the leisure to decide because I trusted you or believed in the same ideals as you. In fact, in all honesty, I believe I would've killed the civilians in the rebellion without thought because they were necessary sacrifices."
Dimitri perked up, eyes blazing with a sudden surge of fury. "But professor, those weren't knights or soldiers! Some of them were fathers and sons! We didn't need to kill them."
Byleth held a hand up in front of her, shaking her head. "Please, let me finish." Dimitri reluctantly hunched back into his seat, frowning with disagreement. Byleth cleared her throat once. "As I said, I would kill all of those civilians like the church ordered to prevent further casualties. I'm sure you all experienced it today, but none of those villagers were willing to listen to your pleas."
The Blue Lions went quiet because they realized the professor was right. Their ideals were naïve and had no place in the real world.
"Even so, I allowed you all to act as you please and I will continue to do so, so long as you do not endanger everyone else with your reckless actions." Byleth paused, closing her eyes. "I do not care what the rest of you think because in the end, there are no two people who have the exact same beliefs. Therefore, instead of forcing you all to act under my command, I figured it was easier to allow you free rein. It would be quite bothersome to convince you all otherwise."
Dimitri suddenly snorted, hiding a chuckle behind his lips.
Byleth turned to him, cocking her head in confusion. "I do not understand what was so amusing about my statement."
Dimitri waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head lightly, lips curled up in a wry smile. "Sorry, professor. I just found it quite funny how you easily contradict yourself." Byleth shot Dimitri an even more blank stare, and Dimitri coughed. "Have you forgotten what you said to Catherine yourself? You argued with her, saying that you would not allow our hands to be dirtied by the Church's version of justice. You said that you would take responsibility for our actions. To me, it sounds like you believe in us. And yet now you are acting very coldly."
"I do not believe I acted contradictory." Byleth blinked once, then twice. "If the church insisted on attacking the villagers, I would not stop them. When I said I acted according to what I believed was the most effective way to end this rebellion, that also included having to convince you all to kill your opponents. I figured instead of wasting time doing so, it would be better to let you do as you please."
This time, Dimitri stared confusedly at Byleth. "Professor, you really are an enigma. I can never understand what you are thinking. Sometimes, you act as if you genuinely care about us. Like when you listened to our pleas. But at times, you push us away, acting nonchalant. As if we don't matter to you."
*Cough*
All heads turned toward the medic tent. A hoarse voice gasped for air as they tried to muster up their strength to speak. "B-Byleth, you suck at talking about your feelings." The thin layer of fabric muffled the voice enveloping her bandaged form, but the Blue Lions heard her, nonetheless.
"Satiana?!" Annette gasped. "Are you awake?" She scrambled towards the tent and opened the flaps.
Inside, Satiana was already up in a sitting position. She groaned as she stretched her limbs across the ground. Another rough cough erupted from her throat and she flopped back onto her back, whimpering in pain with her nose wrinkled. "Okay, nevermind. That hurt more than I expected. Ugh."
Felix grunted. "Just go back to sleep, idiot." His words had no bite behind them and she knew, but Satiana was always one for confrontation.
She glared through the open slit in the tent and scowled. "Shut up, Felix. I know what I'm doing."
"No, you clearly don't," Felix said as he shot her an incredulous look of disbelief.
"Satiana, please rest," Byleth spoke up from her seat, staring in disappointment at the girl, who kept wiggling like a worm on the floor of her tent. "You can join the conversation after you've recovered."
"Oh, no, you don't." Satiana forced herself up into a sitting position again, crossing her legs. "I can't let you ruin yourself by being the socially awkward person you are, Byleth."
Byleth shot her a blank look, but with Satiana's keen eyes, she spotted the subtle twitch of Byleth's brows. Byleth was visibly annoyed at being probed.
Satiana jabbed a finger in Byleth's direction. "Now, back to the conversation. What this… this idiot means," she paused, clearing her throat loudly as a particularly large blob of saliva choked her, "is that she wanted you guys to learn the consequences of your actions on your own. She says she was too lazy to convince you otherwise, but really, she's the professor. If she ordered something, you guys would have no choice but to follow her command. Even so, she allowed you guys to take the reins. Why? Because she wanted to teach you something."
Satiana launched herself into another coughing fit and Annette was by her side, rubbing smooth circles on her back. Satiana muttered a quiet 'thanks' before she continued on with her speech.
"What she wanted to teach you was that your beliefs and the most effective way to end bloodshed can be contrary to each other. For example, you all believed in knocking the enemies out without killing them. But now, you face the potential threat of a second wave of rebellion. Meanwhile, Byleth knew that killing the villagers was the most effective way to resolve this issue. But on a personal level, she believed the villagers did not deserve death."
The Blue Lions pondered over her speech, eyes boring into the flickering flame.
"Which decision leads to the better outcome? No one will ever know. In life, you can only make one choice. There's no going back. Sometimes, you will have to act differently to your beliefs in order to prevent further casualties. While at other times, following what your heart tells you will only lead to unnecessary problems in the future."
Satiana closed her eyes and for a moment, she was sent back to the familiar plains of roaring fire. There was no one who understood the dilemma better than she did as one who swam through the guilt of slaughtering many innocents. She breathed softly, sighing shakily as the wind howled around them.
"No matter what choice you make, there will always be regrets. No one knows what the end result of a decision is. Perhaps things could've gone better if you listened to your commander. Perhaps things ended well for you this time. Regardless, as long as you continue to fight on the battlefield, these types of questions will plague you till the very end," Satiana ended solemnly.
A long, deafening silence enveloped the group after her speech ended. Nobody dared break the uncomfortable silence, for none of them knew the right response to such a morbid dilemma. The Blue Lions were still inexperienced fledglings in comparison; none could fully comprehend the weight and burden that came with the responsibility of protecting one's nation or land.
Of course, it only then proved natural for Byleth to break the silence as the most experienced member of the group.
"...That was what I meant to say," Byleth interjected flatly. "That's why I said that I didn't believe in you guys. I just let you do as you please because it was bothersome to explain everything and learning first-handedly the consequences of your actions would prove to be a useful experience in the future—"
"Fuck, you really do have communication issues, Byleth," Satiana groaned, rolling her eyes. "Stop talking in such a roundabout manner, alright? Just be honest and tell everyone you cared enough about them to teach them a valuable lesson."
Byleth blinked. She tilted her head to the side, lips thinning to a straight line. "But I really did not act out of care, per se. I simply acted according to my beliefs."
Satiana slapped her palms onto her face, stretching her skin downward in dismay. "You are hopeless. A hopeless idiot, Byleth." She threw her hands into the air in exasperation. "Sometimes, I wonder if you're just emotionally constipated or something. How can you not recognize your own feelings?!"
"I don't have a heart, Satiana. I'm incapable of feeling emotions."
"Bullshit, Byleth. I've seen you smile. Like once. Maybe twice. You even glared at me before. You have plenty of emotion, Byleth. It's high-time you start putting words to your feelings."
"I'm afraid that is an insurmountable obstacle for me."
"Then, I don't know, try harder?!"
"I cannot try harder without comprehending what it means to have emotions, to begin with."
The Blue Lions stared awkwardly at the raucous fray of bickering between the two. They sat in silence, listening to the cheerful bantering as Satiana's profound explanation of Byleth's intention sank into their heads.
They weren't sure what to make of it.
Indeed, Byleth had a very peculiar way with words. Without Satiana's translation, the professor would've led them into the false belief that she did not care about anyone but herself. Now, they knew the professor simply had a cold front. Underneath all that awkwardness lay a deep well of warmth and care. Her words may be sharp and lack control, but she always meant well.
Dimitri smiled at the scene in front of him. He shared eye contact with Sylvain and noticed the satisfied grin on the man's lips. Ingrid and Felix shrugged as they shook their heads in exasperation. Annette was chuckling to herself while Dedue hid a small smile behind his palms.
Dimitri closed his eyes, letting the sound of bickering fade away into the scenery. For now, he would allow himself to indulge in the tranquil air. It was a much needed change of pace after today's tiring events.
The wind picked up behind him. From deep inside the darkness in the forest, he felt a pair of strange eyes boring into his back. Of course, it was nothing but a fabrication of his own mind. He willed it away, letting the twisted shadows of the dead clinging to his back blend in with the surrounding nature.
The only time ghoulish assailants weren't gnawing on the fringes of his mind seemed to be when he was with Byleth, the woman's overwhelming presence suppressing the clamoring in his head. She was his only beacon in the darkness — the only person who he could look in the eye without feeling an inch of guilt.
He loved his friends. He really did. But at times, they also reminded him of what he had lost — what he failed to protect. Even Satiana, the recent addition to his now growing family, was involved in the nightmares that plagued him. Byleth was the only person who had no connection to that damning incident.
He wished this moment of peace would never end. But of course, the Goddess would never listen to his pleas.
She never did.
Not even a day had passed since they returned from Magdred and Byleth was already making her way up to the second floor of the monastery. As expected, Catherine had reported to Rhea before Byleth. And now, she faced dire consequences. It wouldn't be surprising if she got fired for disobeying orders.
But Byleth didn't care about her punishment.
It wasn't as if she cared enough about the students to bother defending their actions. She was simply doing her job. She believed a professor was someone who taught students things they could apply to real life and that, she did. Although her methods were sort of abstract, giving her students freedom on the battlefield of all places, she wasn't a babysitter.
Who was she to teach the kids what was right or wrong? Even she wondered at times if she was doing the right thing. Jeralt was better with teaching morals and ethics. Byleth wasn't one to mind about such philosophical and ethical aspects of battle — she was more fit for a sword instructor.
But the church hired her as a homeroom professor. She acted according to what she believed was the kind of professor the students needed. If the church wasn't satisfied with that, then to hell with them. She was never one to follow strict orders, anyway.
Though, perhaps she should ask them for extra severance pay in advance.
Byleth was acutely aware of the strange looks the other priests and knights were giving her. Perhaps news of her treacherous actions had already reached their ears. They didn't even bother to hide the way they jumped around her, darting away like squirrels as soon as she stepped onto the second floor. She sighed internally in annoyance as she stepped into the audience chambers.
Rhea and Seteth stood in the center as usual. To her surprise, Rhea still had the same gentle smile plastered on her face. Seteth was of course brooding as usual, a permanent look of suspicion carved onto his features. She greeted them. "Lady Rhea, Seteth. Good morning."
"I am glad that you made it back safely, professor," Rhea nodded. "I heard about your accomplishments on the battlefield from Catherine. You did an excellent job. As expected of someone with the Goddess's divine protection."
Byleth couldn't resist the urge to arch her eyebrows in a blatant display of confusion. She did not expect Rhea to compliment her, especially after what she had done. By Rhea's side, Seteth seethed quietly in disagreement, eyes blazing with fury. Byleth ignored him, glancing off to the side.
"I only did what I had to, Rhea," Byleth replied.
Seteth leveled a hard stare. "Yes, of course. You did exactly what was expected of you," Seteth spoke flatly but there was no hiding the slight sneer hidden inside his mocking words.
"I heard that some students were… hesitant about fighting militia. However, we must punish any sinners who may inflict harm upon believers, even if those sinners are civilians," Rhea paused in her speech, pale green irises glowing white on the edges. "Which is why I must ask you, professor. Why did you let some civilians leave unharmed?"
Byleth stood her ground. "I didn't believe it was necessary. As long as we take down Lord Lonato, the rebellion will halt on its own. Without a leader to follow, none of the villagers would've been able to do anything against the Knights of Seiros."
"So, you took mercy upon them. How unexpected of the Ashen Demon." Seteth didn't even bother to hide behind his backhanded comments this time. He unleashed his ire. "You must understand that if you do not cut these sinners down, they will only rise again. Perhaps next time with a new leader. What will you do then?"
"If they still have not learned from their mistakes, then I will have no choice but to cut them down," Byleth replied.
Rhea frowned. "So what you mean to say is that you wanted to give these sinners a second chance. You did not comply with our orders to eliminate them because you believed they deserved to be saved?"
"There is more than enough evidence to prove that Lonato incited his own men to rebel against the Church. They did not do so out of personal hatred against the church, but because of their love for their lord. I must be honest with my sentiments regarding this case," Byleth continued. "Lady Rhea, why did you keep it a secret from me you executed Lord Lonato's son under false conditions?"
One look was all it took for Byleth to straighten her back against her will. She could feel the piercing glare prickling her skin, erupting goosebumps. Seteth's presence morphed from pure menace to scintillating darkness. But that was nothing new. She was used to Seteth's pressing glares.
It was Rhea that took her completely by surprise.
It was only for a small sliver of a second, but Byleth saw the angelic-like facade shatter as Rhea's lips twitched downward. The pale-green pupils filled with nostalgia and warmth warped, stretching vertically into thin strips and Byleth felt a vigorous shudder run down her spine. The gaze was mesmerizing, enchanting, but also paralyzing. Her eyes glinted with a sudden surge of murderous intent. A deep well of potent darkness lurked inside the reptile-like gaze filled to the brim with something akin to heavy disappointment.
It wasn't a kind look. There was obvious judgment and disenchantment within those condescending orbs. Rhea stared at Byleth as if she were an insignificant bug. But the freezing turbulence disappeared as quickly as it came. Rhea returned to her usual sunny-smile, eyes sparkling vibrantly under the heavenly glow of sunlight.
Byleth felt another cold shiver overwhelm her. The sudden disparage was too much to bear. To think a hideous monster hid underneath that seemingly innocent face.
She stifled a small laugh of disbelief.
"Professor, I hope you will forgive me. I did not tell you because I didn't think it mattered in the long run. Regardless of his reasons for instigating this rebellion, Lord Lonato's sentence is already finalized. It is foolish to point one's blades towards the heavens. I hope you and your students learned a valuable lesson from this excursion," Rhea explained without hesitation.
Byleth crossed her arms, staring at Rhea. "Lady Rhea, when I asked you last time whether you knew the truth behind Lord Lonato's rebellion, you refused to answer me. I dislike being lied to or kept ignorant on purpose. As the leading professor of this case, was it not in my rights to be informed of everything about the incident beforehand?"
Rhea smiled her patented, familiar smile, the one that irked Byleth now that she had glimpsed the true face behind the mask. "Yes, you are correct. However, I was afraid that his reasons would sway you. That is why I kept it a secret from you. Please, forgive me. I simply took precautions."
"Lady Rhea, it appears you do not trust me as much as you claim to," Byleth accused. "Because you hid this from me, I could not make sound judgments on the battlefield because I was not sure of your intentions. If you want me to trust you, then please do not hide fatal information from me in the future."
Seteth finally exploded, interjecting into the conversation. "Professor, that is enough. It is you who must prove yourself worthy of Lady Rhea's trust, not the other way around." He pointed a finger at Byleth.
"I believe you are heavily mistaken, Seteth," Byleth retorted immediately, eyes narrowing. "I am not a member of the Knights of Seiros. I did not swear fealty to your cause. I am simply a professor of this academy that you have hired to take care of the students. That is all that is written in my job description. I am not a devout follower of the Church and you will treat me as such."
Seteth's jaws dropped in horror, eyes bulging wide. "I cannot believe this! You are desecrating the goddess in front of the archbishop!"
"You can take my words however you like. That is not my primary concern," Byleth continued, turning her head towards Rhea. "Lady Rhea, if you had told me earlier about Lord Lonato's intentions, I would've slaughtered all the civilians," Byleth confessed. "We would not be having this argument right now if you had been honest with me from the get go."
Seteth sneered without humor. "Surely, you jest, professor. Your actions contradict your words. Was it not because you probed into the church's affairs on your own, learning Lord Lonato's motives, that led to your hesitation on the battlefield?"
Byleth shook her head. "Again, you are incorrect. Do you still not understand why I let those villagers survive?" She gave the two a sharp look. "It is because of your response to this incident. You attempted to sweep everything about Lord Lonato under the rug. Your actions only proved that Lord Lonato raised a valid concern regarding his son's execution."
Seteth took a step forward, snarling. "Professor, you are acting out of line. Get out of here now—"
"I am not done yet, Seteth," Byleth interrupted. "I understand the reasoning behind your decisions. I do not disagree with any of them, in particular. You have valid political reasons that led you to your choices. Both you and Lord Lonato acted according to your beliefs. There is nothing inherently wrong with that. However, there is something wrong with trying to hide away from the consequences of your actions."
Seteth paused mid-rant, stunned to silence by Byleth's freezing stare.
"Do not misunderstand my words. I am not against the church. I respect your authority. So please, do not make my faith in you waver any longer," Byleth ended amiably. "One should take proper responsibility for their actions. You did the opposite, which only diminished my faith in your decision. That is why I could not bring myself to kill those civilians because I do not make a habit of killing innocents. If they are indeed as sinful as you claim, then prove it to me with your confidence instead of hiding behind the shameful truth. I am more than capable of understanding that some sacrifices are necessary in this world."
Rhea and Seteth shared a look of astonishment. No one could blame them. Who could ever imagine that the cold-hearted mercenary who barely spoke at all would one day preach so eloquently about her beliefs?
Rhea wanted Byleth to change after her stay at the monastery, hopefully indoctrinating her into the religion. That was why she offered Byleth the open spot of professor, to begin with. But never in a billion years could she predict Byleth would change so drastically in a completely different manner.
What on earth did the Blue Lions do to her?
Rhea found herself coughing, clearing her throat. "Y-Yes, professor. I understand your concerns. From now on, I will be most honest with you about my intentions. I hope you will one day come to see that the Goddess is always on the side of the justice we embody."
Seteth still stood stiff, mouth hanging open in shock.
Byleth hummed in satisfaction. "Good. Then I look forward to our next endeavor together. Please, do not hesitate to call me for another mission." Her eyes sparkled as she spun on her heels, heading out the door without even sparing a glance behind.
After that day, a new rumor began spreading around campus. It started from an innocent bystander who passed by outside the audience chambers when Seteth started screaming. Exaggerated stories of how the demon professor threatened the archbishop's aid with her sword echoed down the hallways of Garreg Mach for many moons, much to her students' dismay.
"I must say, Satiana. I feel like you are a regular in the infirmary," Manuela chastised as she applied extra force into the heal, making Satiana wince in pain. "How do you always get yourself hurt like this?"
Satiana shrugged, letting the sheepish grin on her face widen in increments of inches. "If it makes you feel better, I don't get myself hurt on purpose." She sat up on the bed, leaning against the pillow. "I'm sorry, Professor Manuela. I seem to always cause trouble."
"I hope you understand how worried I was when Byleth carried the two of you into the infirmary," Manuela frowned, eyes bright with worry, scanning Satiana for traces of injuries or scars. "You were lucky Mercedes got to you in time. If not, the both of you would've died from blood loss."
Ashe smiled weakly from his position on the opposite bed. "Y-You have my utmost gratitude, Professor Manuela."
Manuela shot him a glare. "I don't need your thanks, Ashe. If you really want to thank me, then please be more careful on the battlefield." She strolled from one bed to another, squinting for any injuries she may have missed at first glance. Eventually, she nodded in satisfaction, placing her hands on her hips. "Good! You both should be alright now. Don't forget to rest easy for today. Also, no combat training for a week!"
Manuela strolled through the open door of the infirmary, calling out the names of the visitors waiting outside.
There was a stilted, pregnant pause as the rest of the Blue Lions strolled into the room. Dedue closed the door behind him, giving them a sense of privacy. Dimitri stood in the center of the room, glaring holes at the two patients on the bed. The rest of the students crowded around him, most with frowns or worried gazes plastered on their faces.
"I think it's about time you explained to us what you were up to," Dimitri started calmly, though there was no denying the subtle pressure he radiated.
Satiana occupied herself with watching the birds chirping outside the window. Ashe found a fascinating crease on his worn-out uniform. The room lapsed into silence once again, each inhabitant stewing in tension.
Dimitri crossed his arms, glaring at the two. "I believe I asked you two a question." He tapped his toes impatiently.
Ashe and Satiana winced, both refusing to meet his scorching gaze.
"Just what were you thinking? Throwing yourself into danger like that?" Dimitri continued scolding, baritone voice trembling. "Did you even stop to think about your actions?"
"Uh, yes, I did—" Satiana cut in.
"Yes, of course, you did," Dimitri repeated but there was no amusement lurking in those fiery blue orbs. "You have a brilliant mind, Satiana. Reasoning always sound, logic well-formulated, built upon years of experience. And yet what did that brain of yours lead you to? A concussion, a stab wound in the back, a fall of a giant tree, a sad attempt at jumping over a cliff—"
"Hey, to be fair, I made that jump and killed the bandit—"
Dimitri groaned. "Satiana, that is not the point." He rubbed his face with his hands, exhaling in disbelief. "I am trying to tell you that you are far too reckless for your own good. It is your overconfidence that led to these injuries."
Satiana bit her lips, turning her head away from Dimitri's worried gaze. "Then what would you suggest I do? Turn a blind eye to everything that is happening behind the scenes? Let Lonato just lead a bunch of innocent people to their deaths? Let Ashe wallow in regret his whole life?"
Dimitri's lips thinned in a chapped line, prone to sighing. His face was a bruise, exhausted by the nightmares that plagued him, dark circles underneath his eyes and lines on his face. "No, that is not what I mean. I am well aware you acted with everyone's safety in mind. But you failed to realize your own limits. We could've come up with a better plan of action if you only spoke with us."
"Your highness," Ashe croaked from his position on the bed, mustering up the courage to meet Dimitri's worried gaze. "Please, do not blame Satiana for everything. To begin with, I was the one who accompanied her. I asked her to allow me to see Lord Lonato, even though I knew it would put the both of us in danger." Ashe shifted, folding his legs behind him as he knelt on the sheets. He bowed his head, hands gripping his knee. "I am sorry for causing so much trouble with my actions, your highness."
Dimitri only scowled in response. "No, I do not want your apologies. What I want to hear is a promise from the both of you." Dimitri walked up between their beds, eyes darting between the two who met his weary gaze with a guilty look of their own. He placed his hands on both of their shoulders, clutching tightly. "Please, do not throw your life away so senselessly like this ever again. Consult us. Are we not members of the same class? Do we not hail from the same Kingdom?"
Most of the students were too focused on Dimitri's heartfelt confession to notice it, but Satiana choked on thin air. Heart was up in her throat, blocking all words from articulation. She turned away from his heated gaze, refusing to meet him halfway. Her hands paled as she grasped them together hastily, feeling the sweat from discomfort rubbing on her skin.
For a split second, copper-brown landed on her hunched form. Felix wouldn't have called it horror but the closest thing to how she currently felt was probably so.
There was so much sincerity and honesty in Dimitri's voice Ashe couldn't help but tear up in response. "Y-Your highness, I just did not want to bother you with my thoughtless plans. I couldn't get you into trouble with me." He sniffed, the dam breaking free, the river flowing down his pale cheeks.
Dimitri's eyes softened as he knelt to eye level with Ashe. He made a valiant attempt of a smile, despite his heart clenching with pain. "There is no need to cry, Ashe. Do you still remember what I told you before? I wanted you to treat me like a friend. I wanted to be someone who could help you, not just be protected like a useless ornament on the throne." He scrunched his face into a sulk. "To be honest, this incident wounded me deeply. I feel as if I am a failure. I failed to recognize the darkness lurking inside Lord Lonato and burdened you with the sin of slaying your own father. I am the one who has to apologize to you, Ashe."
Ashe blinked the giant blobs of tears away from his vision. "W-What? But I failed to kill my father…"
"That, you did. But you shouldn't have been forced to. If only we had found a better way to talk things through. If only I had realized earlier. Perhaps, things wouldn't have escalated this far." Dimitri spiraled into the rabbit hole of never ending guilt and regrets. Once it started, there was no escaping, and he sank rapidly into the quicksand.
Felix's scoff broke the tension in the room. "How naïve. No matter what you did, Lord Lonato was resolved to fight till the very end for his beliefs. There was no stopping that man. Forget about him already."
"Felix…" Sylvain shot him a warning look.
Felix grunted. "Lord Lonato lived the life he wanted to live. In the end, he ordered his men to drop their weapons and paid for his mistakes with his life. There's nothing more to talk about. He was a fool who realized at the end of his life how pointless his actions were."
Dimitri snapped back in anger. "Felix, you will not step over his memory like that."
Felix only rolled his eyes. "Who said I was? I was simply speaking the truth."
Satiana turned her weary eyes towards him, a frown plastered on her face. "Who are you, Byleth?" The implication behind her innocent question struck a chord in Felix and he glared hard at her but she ignored him, choosing to turn her attention to Dimitri instead. "Dimitri, there is no need to mourn any further over Lord Lonato's death. I sent him peacefully back to his son's side as he wished. There was nothing tragic about his death."
Dimitri lifted his head. He looked crestfallen, the light stolen from his eyes. "Really? Do you think so?" His voice trembled with disbelief.
Satiana stared at her hands. "Dimitri, I believe there is no one who understands Lord Lonato's sentiments more than you do. What the church did was unacceptable to him and he did everything in his power to bring justice to his beloved son. He died doing what he believed in. Is there a need to mourn over his actions? Instead, why don't we pay our respects to his bravery?"
Felix growled at her remarks. "What is there to respect about a man driven insane by the dead? He dragged a bunch of innocents into his cause and look where it led them all."
"That does it!" Ingrid stomped towards Felix, only to be held back by Sylvain who grabbed her under the arms, yanking her back.
"O-Okay, guys! Calm down! We should leave now and let Satiana and Ashe rest, alright? We can discuss more important things later!" Sylvain raised his voice over the chaos, swinging his head back and forth.
Annette nodded her head in agreement. "Right, Professor Manuela strictly told us to let them rest. We shouldn't bother them any longer."
Mercedes smiled from the sidelines. "Indeed, we can fight over our different beliefs later. For now, Ashe and Satiana need absolute rest."
Albeit reluctantly, Ingrid freed herself from Sylvain's clutches, lips puckered in a pout. "I understand. Let's talk more about this on a later date. For now, please rest well, Satiana, Ashe."
Ashe weakly nodded, lying his back down onto the bed. He threw the covers over him and soon enough, the fatigue took over and he drifted off into a peaceful slumber. There were still red marks around his eyes, remnants of tears and sorrow.
Dimitri did a quick glance-over in Ashe's direction, blue irises still whirling with guilt, before he spun around on his heels, exiting the room with Dedue following behind him. Sylvain pushed Ingrid out of the door with a sheepish smile as she stormed off in a fit of anger. Annette and Mercedes snuck out, chatting happily about sugary treats.
Felix was the last to leave, cursing under his breath in displeasure. "All of these idiots… why doesn't anyone understand…" he whispered, voice barely audible.
But with her sharp ears, she caught his words anyway. Satiana sighed in response, shaking her head. "If you want them to understand your thoughts, then you should work on communicating them properly."
Felix spun his head around to meet her blank stare. "What do you even know?" he spoke bitterly.
"I don't," Satiana started with a shrug. "I can't guess what's in your mind, Felix. I can only infer from what you're saying. But judging by the amount of passion in your speech, you seem to have burning thoughts." She fiddled with her blanket. "Too bad you lack the ability to put them into words without sounding like you're trying to bite everyone in front of you."
"You don't know what you're talking about," Felix repeated, though he realized he was only proving her point with his lack of creativity. He scowled in distaste. "All of them are the same. Wallowing in despair over the dead. Losing their heads over regrets. No one seems to understand. You can't change the past. You can only move forward." He threw his hands into the air, shaking his head in exasperation. "What's the point of trying to find meaning in someone's death? In the end, you're only trying to make yourself feel better."
Satiana stared at him, eyes sparkling with realization. A burst of air escaped her lips and she hid her mouth behind her palms, snickering. Felix shot her a nasty glare, but she waved him off with her hand. "It's uncanny how much you resemble Byleth. And here I thought she was the one with the biggest communication issue." She switched to a cross-legged position, placing her elbow on her knees as she leaned against her palm, a wry smile hanging on her lips. "You care too much, you know that?"
The look of sheer horror on Felix's face almost launched her into a guffawing fit. He blanched as if she had done something blasphemous or downright inappropriate.
"What are you on about? Did you lose your brain cells on the battlefield?"
Satiana snorted in response. "You wanted to console everyone, didn't you? You wanted them to stop worrying so much about things that were unchangeable. You wanted them to move on from Lord Lonato's death. You were trying to cheer them up in your own bullheaded way." She grinned wider, wiggling her fingers in the air. "You speak in a condescending tone, but it comes from a place of care."
Felix's brows twitched, and he clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Shut it," was all he came up with in response to her taunts.
The slight red flush on his pale cheeks only reinforced Satiana's train of thought and she smirked at him. "You are so not honest with yourself despite how straightforward you usually are with your words. It's hilarious, at times."
She was on a roll.
Satiana didn't know what came over her. Maybe she was still half-feverish from her wounds or perhaps she really hit her head like Felix accused. She wasn't thinking straight. Not ever since Dimitri dropped that bombshell on her.
She had grown too attached to the students. She didn't want to admit it, but she came to enjoy their company. They were a rambunctious bunch — loud, cheerful, energetic, and so warm she couldn't resist the urge to jump into their waiting embrace. She couldn't help but feel like she was truly a part of them sometimes. Maybe that was why she dared to tease Felix over his mishaps. Two moons ago, she never would've thought she'd be chatting with the kids. Although things were still rocky between them, especially with her true identity hidden, she found it quite comfortable around them.
But this delusion needed to stop. It had to. One day, everything would come crashing down; it was inevitable. Just when Satiana thought her life was coming together, the past would catch up to her and tear it all apart, revealing the construction to be no sturdier or substantial than a sandcastle that crumbled under the first touch of fingers.
But was it so wrong for her to wish this wonderful dream would never stop?
"Stop…"
"Hm?"
"I said stop it," Felix snapped, this time with a tone of finality. "Who do you think you are to speak so casually with me? Stop acting like we're close."
Of course you just had to bring me back to reality, huh, Felix? As expected of you.
He didn't put much thought into his words. Satiana knew. But it didn't change how much it hurt to have the truth dangling in front of her eyes. Dimitri's words gave her an uncomfortable sense of hope and Felix threw it all into the trash can, burning it to a crisp with his scathing words.
"Speaking of which, your actions were beyond reckless. I don't buy it. You didn't go to Gaspard to protect Ashe." The accusation stung and Satiana could do nothing but sit helplessly as Felix continued to shatter her hopes to a million irreparable pieces. "The professor told us: you had a separate mission." His heated glare only made the numbing pain in her chest worse. "What were you actually up to in Gaspard?"
Satiana's expression dampened, the victorious grin wiped off her face. "Do we need to talk about this now?" She curled a strand of hair behind her ears, looking off to the side with a heavy sigh. "I need to rest, Felix."
He folded his arms, glare hardening. "So, you choose to lie straight to my face again?"
Satiana threw the covers over her head, turning away from him with her eyes shut tight. "Yes, I will," she mumbled under her breath.
Because you don't deserve to have your world destroyed by associating yourselves with me.
"You're right." Her voice was muffled underneath the covers but Felix heard her, nonetheless. She clutched the blanket harder, yanking it down to her face as she spoke through grinding teeth. "I don't know what came over me. We aren't friends or comrades. I'm still a prisoner under watch. Anyway, I can't—" she coughed once, choking on thin air. "Won't tell you about it until I deem it necessary. Sorry about teasing you earlier. I overstepped my boundaries."
Felix went quiet. His hands twitched, and he raised his arm to scratch the back of his head, scowling again for the umpteenth time that day. "No, I…" he started, biting his lips. He opened his mouth to try again, only to clamp it shut. There was another lull in the conversation, this time, quite uncomfortable for the both of them. Eventually, he settled on a sigh. "Forget it. Just… go get some rest," he ended awkwardly and turned around towards the exit. He paused mid-way out the door. "Hurry and recover already. I need a sparring partner."
Satiana's eyes widened imperceptibly under the covers, blue orbs glowing with a small flicker of warmth, but her smile was rigid. "Sure. I'll try my best."
Her heart remained heavy throughout the day.