A/N: I am back! I ended up playing Three Hopes all over again on maddening level (lol). This chapter will be a break from all that action as we spend a peaceful day back at the monastery...but is it truly peaceful? *cough* Anyway, I'm glad I've been getting a lot more reviews lately. I enjoy the comments and of course, I thank you for the new favs and follows!

I hope you enjoy this chapter as always! The invite code to our humble fire emblem fanfic discord is here as usual: u89gs745fn

[White Clouds]

Chapter 21: Forgotten Bonds

"So, our task for this moon is to patrol and guard the monastery to help put a stop to that assassination plot." Dimitri stood in the center of the group, rubbing his chin in thought. "Considering the recent confrontation between Lord Lonato and the Church, this sounds like part of a deeper conspiracy to me."

The Blue Lions gathered in the reception hall after Byleth returned from her audience with Rhea. The Church ordered them to guard the monastery, placing utmost importance on protecting Rhea during the Goddess' Rite of Rebirth scheduled for the end of the moon. But seeing how Lord Lonato acted moments before his death, none of the students believed he was the true mastermind behind this heinous attempt.

"If I remember correctly, Christophe took part in a plan to assassinate Lady Rhea in the past," Annette muttered. "And Lord Lonato led a rebellion this time with the main purpose of destroying the Central Church. Then why would he carry around plans of an assassination plot?"

"I agree. I found that strange as well," Ingrid commented with a frown. "He resolved himself to a frontal attack. If Lord Lonato wished to assassinate Lady Rhea, he wouldn't have needed to resort to desperate measures to begin with. This assassination plot is a different plan of action than the path Lord Lonato took with his rebellion."

"I imagine this assassination plot is something even Lord Lonato was unaware of," Ashe muttered. Mossy-green irises darted to the ground. "Lord Lonato may have wished to kill Lady Rhea, but he would never resort to such underhanded tricks like an assassination. If so, then it must be the Western Church that tricked him into carrying this assassination letter."

"The Western Church? What do they have to do with all this?" Dimitri's eyes widened in surprise. "Ashe, is there something else you are hiding from us?"

Ashe glanced at Satiana, who motioned towards Byleth with a nod. Byleth stepped forward to face Dimitri.

"Actually, I have further information regarding Christophe's assassination plot. He was working together with members of the Western Church," Byleth informed. "I know little about the different factions in Fodlan, but it appears the Western Church had some sort of vendetta against the Central Church themselves. They used Lord Lonato's personal grudge against Lady Rhea to mask their identity as puppeteers behind this entire incident."

"The Western Church, huh?" Mercedes mumbled under her breath. She clasped her hands in front of her, frowning. "I hear they preach a very…extreme version of Saint Seiros's teachings. So Lord Lonato got caught up in their dogmatic war. That is a pity. I cannot fathom why one would ever turn their blades against the Church like this."

"Well, thinking about all that annoying stuff won't get us anywhere," Sylvain said with a shrug. "For now, let's just focus on protecting Lady Rhea from the evildoers."

"About that, I've given it some thought," Dimitri mused, folding his arms across his chest. "The knights will have their hands full protecting Lady Rhea. And perhaps our enemy is counting on that."

"Please, elaborate," Dedue spoke from beside Dimitri.

"Isn't it possible the Western Church hoped to monopolize everyone's attention with this alleged plot in order to distract from their true aim?" Dimitri narrowed his eyes. "As we know, Lord Lonato wished for the death of Lady Rhea. Everyone would assume this assassination plot is something he developed. It's as simple as putting one and two together. But we know better than that. If Lord Lonato truly wished to kill Lady Rhea, he wouldn't carry such an elaborate plan with him. It would be easier to just burn the contents. Which means the Western Church planted this on him."

"So you believe they wanted to pin the crime of assassination on Lord Lonato?" Dedue asked.

Dimitri shook his head. "Well, yes, that is part of it. But is the assassination itself their primary goal? If the archbishop were to lose her life, the Knights of Seiros would do everything in their power to figure out the truth behind her death. Eventually, the Western Church will be booked for this incident. Why? Because Lord Lonato is already dead and yet the assassination plan has continued, even though his villagers have already given up on revenge, following their Lord's last words."

"I see," Sylvain interjected. "The moment Lord Lonato's plans were discovered, the Western Church knew their downfall was inevitable. Yet they still announced their existence through the assassination letter, regardless. This means they are willing to take on the crime of assassinating a high-ranked official of the Church, in order to accomplish some other aim. There must be something else in Garreg Mach that will help them win their dogmatic war against the Central Church."

"Hmph, then that settles it," Felix scoffed. "If they want to win against the Central Church, all they have to do is fight against the Knights of Seiros and emerge victorious. If so, it's obvious where they'll plan to attack."

"The armory?" Ingrid mused.

"Or maybe the treasure vault! The monastery hides a lot of their sacred weapons there." Annette snapped her fingers in realization. "Oh, I know! What about the Holy Mausoleum?"

"The Holy Mausoleum? Why would the Western Church want to rob a tomb?" Sylvain grimaced at the thought. "Unless they have a fetish for bones. But then again, there are probably a few pretty ladies who are buried there."

Ingrid slapped Sylvain behind the head, eyes twitching violently. "Sylvain, how blasphemous of you to desecrate the Goddess in front of everyone! Saint Seiros's remains lay dormant in the Holy Mausoleum."

"I am not sure why the Western Church would target the Holy Mausoleum, but legends state Saint Seiros went into an eternal slumber there. Perhaps they want to take the coffin itself as a symbol of authority?" Mercedes shuddered, rubbing the goosebumps over her arms. "Though I cannot imagine how one could ever consider doing something so atrocious such as stealing the Goddess's remains."

"Regardless of their aims, we have only one thing to do," Byleth ordered. "We'll let the other knights guard Lady Rhea. We shall stand watch near the Holy Mausoleum instead." The Blue Lions nodded in understanding. Then, Byleth waved her hand in the air, motioning towards a student who sat at one table in the reception hall. The student stood up and made their way towards the Blue Lions. "Before I dismiss you all, there is someone that I would like to introduce to you all."

Satiana jolted in surprise, eyes widening at the familiar sight of silky white hair and vibrant pink orbs. Lysithea's blank gaze landed on her and Satiana smiled sheepishly, kneading the back of her neck with her hand.

Oh shit, I completely forgot about her.

Byleth nudged Lysithea forward. "I'm sure you guys have met before around campus. This is Lysithea and starting today, she is now officially a member of our class."

Lysithea nodded her head at the gaping crowd in front of her. "I asked for a transfer earlier this moon and the Professor accepted my request. I look forward to working with you all from now on." She bowed with the grace of a young-adult, curtseying as she spread her skirt with her hands.

"W-Wait, what?" Sylvain was the first to react to the sudden introduction. "You transferred to our class? Why?"

"I have to admit, although I was aware it was possible to switch classes, I did not expect someone to take advantage of such a system so early in the term." Dimitri's voice was laced with genuine surprise and awe. "I'm not sure why you picked our class, but as the elected leader, I would like to extend my gratitude for choosing us. I look forward to getting to know you as well, Lysithea."

"Likewise, Dimitri. I've heard a lot about your accomplishments on the battlefield. Rumors of the elite Blue Lions have even reached the ears of Claude and the others," Lysithea spoke with pride, pink orbs sparkling with delight. "To be honest, I feel guilty about Claude for ditching him so early like this, but there's someone that I must repay a debt to in the Blue Lions."

"Oh? Is that so?" Dimitri blinked. "Who would that be?"

Satiana sweated profusely underneath Lysithea's knowing gaze. She winced, noticing the underlying gleam of murderous intent hiding beneath Lysithea's plastic, yet cordial, smile.

Satiana had to admit to herself — it was all her fault Lysithea was glaring at her with such anger. She had completely forgotten about Lysithea's existence over the past few years. She had been so busy dealing with the Blue Lions and confronting Edelgard that it had slipped her mind entirely. Even before she made it to the monastery, she had thrown herself into a pile of missions and ended up missing the heap of letters from Ordelia territory the rest of the mercenary crew often bugged her about.

To put her sentiments into one sentence, she was so apologetic and also so screwed.

"Uh, hi, Lysithea," Satiana was the first to greet her, waving with a faulty smile on her face. "It's been…uh…a long time…?"

Lysithea was all sunshine and rainbows with her brilliant grin, though the slight twitch of her eyebrows spoke otherwise. "Yes, Satiana. It has been, well, over three years since we last saw each other, hasn't it?"

She emphasized the word 'three' and Satiana laughed awkwardly, sliding her foot backwards, caving under the sheer pressure the smaller girl was emanating from her spine-chilling smile. "Oh, yeah! It has totally been over three years. I, uh, missed you so much, Lysithea!" She backed away further, holding her hands innocently in the air in front of her. "We have a lot to catch up on, r-right?"

Satiana knew how ridiculous she was sounding in the moment, but fuck all, she needed to appease the tiny devil somehow.

As if Lysithea could read her mind, she practically exploded into a fuming volcano, launching herself at Satiana with her hands glowing ominously dark. "Missed me? Don't make me laugh, Satiana!" Her hand shone brighter as purple wisps of smoke started floating from her open palm. "You left me stranded for three whole years!"

"Oh, shit!" Satiana screamed as she darted off into the distance as fast as her legs could carry her, leaving a violent gust of wind and smoke behind her trail. "S-Sorry, Lysithea! Please forgive me!" Her pathetic screech echoed through the reception hall that descended into chaos the moment Lysithea released a miasma spell into the air after Satiana.

"Get back here, Satiana! I'm not done with you!" Lysithea yelled after her, scowling as she sprinted through the Blue Lions, almost running over Sylvain in the process.

Screams of horror traveled through the halls as the rest of the Blue Lions gaped at the chaos unfolding in front of them.

"Uh, what the hell just happened?" Sylvain grimaced at the two receding figures sprinting down the stairs in a blur of purple and black smoke.

"Wait, isn't Lysithea going to get in trouble for using magic on monastery grounds?" Annette winced as a particularly loud yell for help echoed down the hallway.

Another loud explosion sent the entire hall quaking and Felix facepalmed.

"Somebody stop those two idiots from destroying the monastery. I'm not getting myself involved in this stupid mess," Felix groaned.

Byleth nodded in rare approval. "Satiana had it coming. Lysithea deserves to punish her."

"P-Professor, now is not the time to just stand by and watch! We need to stop them!" Ingrid yelped as she dragged Byleth by the arm down the stairs. "Somebody go and pincer them from behind!"

"R-Right, on it!" Sylvain stammered, running down the opposite end of the reception hall.

Dimitri chuckled at the chaos. "It seems we have gained another raucous comrade to our team. I'm glad she seems to fit in very well."

Dedue's stoic poker face collapsed for a split second as he sweatdropped. "Your highness, this is hardly the time for such jokes."

Dimitri frowned in response. "Oh. I thought I was being funny for once. It seems I still have not grasped the art of humor."

Ashe shared a look with Dedue and they both sighed in exasperation. "Just how on earth did we get ourselves into this mess…"

Compared to usual, Garreg Mach became more crowded after news of Rhea's assassination spread through the monastery. The Knights of Seiros patrolled every crook and corner of the grounds, starting from as early as dawn all the way past the witching hour. Of course, the students had already grown accustomed to the increase in security around their classrooms. Soldiers roamed the academy grounds daily, after all.

But to a selective few students, this posed a problem to them. A huge problem.

"So, what now?" Hilda whispered as she hid behind a giant pillar right outside the Golden Deer's classroom in the courtyard. She tilted her head, peering out towards the open field, pastel pink orbs flickering left and right. A group of knights wandered down the hallway and she yelped in surprise when a pair of hands yanked her backwards. "Woah! Careful there. You almost knocked me down to the ground!"

Linhardt yawned, rubbing his drowsy eyes as bubbles floated into the surrounding air. "Sorry, but you were about to get us spotted with your…clumsy attempt at hiding." He stretched his arms behind his back, head bobbing up and down in a rhythmic lullaby, eyelids drooping. "Why don't we just sneak around the back towards the North Courtyard instead?"

Hilda frowned at him. "You just want to go to the library, don't you?"

Linhardt shrugged. "Where else would I go during class? There are still a few books about crests I have not had the time to finish yet. I'd love to get a bit of research done before I take my afternoon nap."

Hilda seemed to hum in thought for a moment before her pink eyes brightened up. Her lips curled up into a sly, foxy grin and she grabbed Linhardt by the shoulders, pulling him closer towards her. "Hey, Linhardt. Why don't we put your genius skills to good use? You know how to use warp, right?"

Linhardt's shoulders drooped, a small grimace appearing on his weary features. "Yes, I can cast a warp spell or two. But I try not to do it often because of how taxing it is on my physical health. The last time I used it, I ended up sleeping for three days to recover."

"Oh, well, isn't that nice?" Hilda beamed. "I want you to warp me to the library with you. That way, we can avoid the knights' watchful eyes. I get to skip class and you get to sleep in the library of all places! Wouldn't you say that's a win-win situation for you?"

Linhardt frowned. "Hilda, I can get to the second floor by myself without having to string you along. I'm afraid you'll have to ask someone else for assistance. Unless you want to join me for my research, then I suggest you try, let's see, Lysithea for help." Linhardt perked up, nodding in realization. "If I remember correctly, she has a tremendous amount of magic power lying dormant within her. If it's her, she could easily cast a few warp spells without draining herself. You wouldn't want to accidentally kill me, would you, Hilda? I'm sorry, but I have a fairly weak physical constitution."

Hilda chuckled at his response. "Oh, Linhardt. That guilt-tripping technique of yours would've worked on anyone but me. I'm a masterful liar myself."

Linhardt exhaled. "Very well, you leave me no choice. I will now go call Lysithea for you. She should still be in class, am I right? If I open these doors, both you and I will be busted. I highly doubt you want that. If so, then it would be in your best interest to let me go in peace. A few more minutes and the Knights will have made their way towards the North Courtyard, blocking my way to paradise."

Hilda continued to smile brightly at him, unperturbed by his paltry attempt to threaten her. "Linhardt, the moment you open these doors, you will also lose your precious research time to boring arguments about war tactics. So that threat of yours doesn't work on me, I'm afraid."

Linhardt's dull peacock-green irises sparkled. "Ah, but I can use warp to get myself out of here with ease. Warping one person versus two requires a different amount of magic power."

Hilda paled, cheeks growing ashen at the thought. "Okay, nevermind, Linhardt. I won't force you to use warp anymore, but at least help me hide from these soldiers! I'm quite busy lately with a new, ahem, theory I have regarding the professor's secret crest. I think she must be a secret descendant of a missing bloodline somewhere in the books. Maybe we can discuss it together?" She batted her eyes coquettishly, peering shyly through her lashes.

Linhardt narrowed his eyes, gaze searching her expression. "Hilda, why are you so desperate to seek my help? I was only half-joking earlier about snitching you off to Professor Hanneman. I still stand by my previous words. Lysithea would be of greater help to you than me. Also, I have no interests in things other than crest research and my further pursuit of scholarship. And knowing you, I believe you are not worthy enough to be my partner in such discussions. You will have to seek companionship elsewhere, I'm afraid."

"Wow, harsh as usual, Linhardt," Hilda winced. "But I can't ask Lysithea for help anymore. She transferred to the Blue Lions without warning a day ago," Hilda pouted, lips puckering in annoyance. "I can't believe she ditched us so easily like that! Even Claude has been brooding ever since."

"Hm? Lysithea transferred classes? This is the first time I've heard of this," Linhardt said with an arched brow. "Ah, perhaps that is why Edelgard has been quite…moody."

"What?" Hilda blinked. "What does Lysithea's transfer have to do with Edelgard?"

"I'm uncertain, but it seems Edelgard was looking forward to recruiting Lysithea into the Black Eagles," Linhardt commented. "Unfortunately, it seems like Lysithea turned down her offer."

"Oh?" Hilda perked up. She rubbed her chin, lips slanting upwards into a grin. "That sounds like juicy gossip to me! Tell me more about that, will you, Linhardt?"

Linhardt whisked her grip off his shoulders, taking a step back. "I'm sorry, but you will have to excuse me now. The guards are making their way towards us from behind you and—"

"GAH!" Hilda yelped, whirling around in a frenzy. She darted around like a headless chicken, hiding from view by jumping inside a bush. She covered her mouth with her hands, forcing her breathing to still. Then she waited quietly, hidden from view.

It was only when she realized the deafening silence around her that she dared poke her head out into the opening. After a sigh of relief, Hilda turned to glare at the spot beside her. "Hey, Linhardt! I don't see any guards around…here…" she trailed off as an awkward gust of freezing wind blew across the lonely courtyard.

She was there alone in the bush with no soldiers or Linhardt to be seen.

Hilda pouted, fuming inside the bush as she threw her clenched fists into the air. "Linhardt, that crafty fox! You tricked me!"

A few meters away from the screaming girl, Linhardt rounded the corner into the North Courtyard, making his way to the corridor that led to the second floor. A faint trace of a smile remained on his lips as he strolled up the staircase. By the time he reached the second floor, it was already noon, and he sighed in response to the realization. "It's almost time for my afternoon nap, but I still need to finish that book today…" he muttered to himself, head in the clouds as he made his way to the library.

"At least now I can read in peace." Linhardt smiled, reaching his hand out to open the library doors.

*Bang*

The sound of an explosion rang in his ears, and he winced. Suddenly, a blinding light of white enveloped his vision, and he covered his eyes with the sleeves of his arms. Black spots tinged the edges of his eyes when the bright light finally dissipated into thin air, leaving nothing but two familiar figures lying on the carpet in the library. One had eye-catching long white hair while the other was the complete opposite, embodying the color black with her ebony ponytail.

Linhardt blinked rapidly, getting used to the sudden contrast in lighting inside the room. A rising headache made its way up his spine and Linhardt pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning.

"When will I be able to study in peace…"

Satiana did not know what happened, but Lysithea eventually gave up on chasing her, choosing to warp them both to a different place. Although Satiana had experienced the dizziness and fatigue that came with a warp spell from Renard before, Lysithea had a far greater prowess in magic.

The moment the ground sparkled vibrantly around her, she felt a severe rush of nausea and gagged in response, biting her lips shut. Her legs floated into the air, and she could only gasp in horror as she sank into the large gaping wormhole of purple and white. She crash-landed on her back, groaning in pain when something heavy landed on her stomach, suffocating the air out of her. She coughed violently on the ground, clawing the large object off her front, letting it roll off to the side.

"What the hell…?" Satiana croaked, rubbing her temples to soothe the pounding in her head. She lifted her back off the carpet, vision still twirling in a haze. She blinked rapidly, shedding any remnants of dizziness away. "Is this…the library?"

It was then the large object rolled over towards her again, a small pair of hands launching themselves right at her neck. Lysithea grabbed her by the collar of her uniform, yanking her upwards into the air. Satiana wheezed again for the umpteenth time that morning, mouth dry and chapped from lack of moisture and air.

"I…finally…caught you!" Lysithea breathed heavily, lavender-pink irises glowing with a burning glimmer under the dimmed candlelights in the library. She scowled, shaking Satiana vigorously with her hands. "How dare you forget about me for three whole years! I was always worried about you and sent so many letters asking about you, but you never responded. Did you think I was an annoying, clingy child, undeserving of your time?!"

Satiana went starry-eyed as her world continued to spin. "N-No, of course not! I was just so busy I kind of, well, forgot about you! I'm so sorry!" She sputtered, hands grabbing Lysithea by the shoulder. "L-Let me breathe!"

"Hmph!" Lysithea pouted, grip slacking as she let Satiana free from her wrath. She crossed her arms, jerking her head off to the side, sulking. "I feel offended, Satiana. I shouldn't have wasted my time searching for you after that. It seems I'm the only one who thought there was something special about our meeting."

"Wait, no, that's not true," Satiana spoke in her raspy, drained voice. "I could never think of you as anything but my long-lost sister, Lysithea."

Lysithea eyed her with skepticism. "And what kind of sister ditches their sibling in the middle of nowhere to fend against evil mages on their own?"

"Evil mages…?" A low baritone voice echoed from behind them.

"Uh, to be fair, I left you in your own territory—" Satiana clamped her stupid mouth shut when Lysithea's hand gleamed eerily purple. "Woah, okay, calm down. We are not going down that route again. I'm way too tired for another wild-goose chase." She crawled backward in a hurry, sliding away from Lysithea with a grimace. "I know you're mad at me and it is definitely my fault for failing to catch up with you. You see, we caught wind of the dark mages' next actions and had to quickly cross borders back to Faerghus. We can't let another crest experiment happen again, right?"

"Crest experiments? Huh, I didn't know those existed…"

"I'm sure you had your reasons, Satiana," Lysithea mumbled. "Even so, I was looking forward to your correspondence. To be honest, I wanted to join you on your expedition. But I can't leave my parents alone and they told me I was still too young for such dangerous jobs."

Satiana halted mid-crawl, eyes softening. She exhaled, rustling the strands of her hair. "Look, Lysithea. I'm really sorry. I should've checked up on you earlier, but I heard news of how you were doing. Rumors in the wind and all that jazz. You were making quite a name for yourself. Even though you were still young, you got your territory back in shape after all that tragedy. To be honest, I was jealous of your accomplishments."

Lysithea's eyes widened. "Jealous? You? Of me? Why on earth would you be jealous of me? Satiana, have you ever stopped to reflect on yourself?"

"Hm? What do you mean by that?" Satiana blinked.

"Ahem," the sound of coughing fell on deaf ears as the two continued to engage in conversation.

"Well, you got me out of that hell! You saved me from those endless nights of pain and torture. And you even ventured out into the unknown with your mercenary friends, aiming to stop them from further experimentation. That's a great deal!" Lysithea yelled in delight. "I wished I could join your cause, you know that? You're only a few years older than I am, but you seemed to have accomplished so much from beyond the cage. That's why I tried so hard, because I wanted to help you. There's nothing I hate more than being treated as a sick child, after all. My parents do enough of that," she grumbled under her breath, fidgeting with her fingers.

Satiana felt herself smiling gently, heart swelling with gratitude. "Lysithea, you have no idea how much it means to me. For you to speak of me with such high regards."

Blue eyes sparkled underneath the candlelights, glowing beautifully like the day Lysithea first met her, and Lysithea teared up slightly at the sudden wave of nostalgia. Satiana could never understand her feelings. How she felt the day Satiana barged into the basement, a blood-covered angel yet a divine presence all the same. To have someone waiting for her the moment she escaped out of those cages — someone on her side who truly understood the pain she went through.

It was life changing.

Lysithea didn't know what she would've done if Satiana did not come for her that fateful evening. Perhaps she would've slaughtered all the mages herself or died trying. Maybe she would've fainted soon after from blood loss, failing to get revenge, dying like the worthless child she was.

She had failed to protect her beloved siblings, her family, her people. But Satiana gave her a second chance to atone for her weakness.

Lysithea still did not have the chance to ask about Satiana's story. She wanted to know more about the life her savior lived. That was the main reason for her letters, and it pained her to receive no response. She waited three grueling years to meet her again and Satiana, like the whirlwind she was, came like a giant blur and enlisted the Blue Lions into her small family, leaving her behind.

Really, she knew it was childish of her to feel so petty about it, but that was how much Satiana meant to Lysithea. At least she got an apology out of her, though Lysithea felt disappointed that she had to be the one to seek Satiana out in the end.

"Alright, for now, I'll forgive you," Lysithea frowned. "But leave me out of the loop again, and I'll blast a hole in your head with my magic."

Satiana laughed. "Sure, sure. I won't leave you alone again, Lysithea. I'm glad to have you on our team."

"Don't treat me like a child!" Lysithea fumed. "I meant I wanted to be treated as your equal!"

"Yeah, I know. Don't worry. I know more than anyone what you're truly capable of," Satiana snorted. "I still remember how you blew up the entire mansion. And that was three years ago. I don't want to know what sort of destruction you're capable of now."

"Oh, that? I once tried casting a giant Dark Spikes T spell at Claude just for fun and I almost split the entire plains in half—" Lysithea started, only to freeze when she finally caught sight of the extra inhabitant in the room. "Wait, since when did you get here?!"

Linhardt shook his head in exasperation from his position a few steps away from the entrance. "I was here first. You two were the ones who barged in with a warp spell." Then, he moved closer to Lysithea, rubbing his chin, peacock-green irises twinkling with curiosity. "By the way, I heard what you were talking about just now. What exactly do you mean by crest experiments?"

Satiana and Lysithea both went pale. Lysithea cast a look at Satiana. The meaning wasn't lost on either of them.

They were absolutely screwed.

"Uh, what? I think you may have misheard us!" Satiana jolted up from the ground, laughing in sloppy intervals, voice breaking down fast into a panicked, off-beat sonata. "Crest experiments? What the hell is that even supposed to be?"

"I-Indeed!" Lysithea smiled awkwardly, stumbling up on her feet. She faced Linhardt, plastic smile twitching. "Maybe you're just imagining it, Linhardt. You're very enthusiastic about crests, so maybe you were daydreaming and your secret desires seeped out into reality, making you hear illusions!"

Linhardt shot them both a look of blatant distrust. "Yes, I do have a habit of daydreaming, per se. I often end up tuning outside interference away when I'm researching. However, I am not currently engrossed in my findings, so I do not believe I misheard what you said." He crossed his arms impatiently. "I would love to have a deeper conversation with the both of you about this intriguing topic. What exactly does crest experimentation entail?"

"Nope! Screw this. We are getting out of here!" Satiana briskly stormed towards the exit, dragging Lysithea along with her when Linhardt slipped into her path, blocking her way. She halted, scowling directly at him with a fiery glare. "I know this is the first we've ever conversed, but you either move or I cut you down."

"I abhor violence," Linhardt sighed. "But you have piqued my curiosity and I'm afraid I will sleep peacefully no longer until I discover all the details of what you have mentioned. Please, I hope you will take responsibility for your slip-up."

"How about no for an answer? Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't see a reason why I should divulge my knowledge of such secrecy to someone who's a complete stranger to me," Satiana growled, forcing her way past Linhardt. She took a step out the door with Lysithea stumbling after her trail when Linhardt suddenly chuckled behind her. She halted, glancing behind her shoulder. "What exactly is so amusing, Linhardt?"

"Nothing. It's just…I happen to know a secret. A secret about Lysithea, to be more exact," Linhardt spoke.

Lysithea froze. Even Satiana couldn't help but reel over in shock, jaws dropping wide. Lysithea tugged Satiana's hand, yanking her back inside the library. Satiana hesitantly complied, plodding back towards Linhardt with a furious glower on her face. There was a violent volcano simmering underneath the surface, ready to erupt at any moment, and Linhardt knew his life would be in danger the moment he misspoke.

But as a proud scholar, there would be no higher honor than to lose one's life in the pursuit of higher knowledge.

"Linhardt, I'm warning you," Satiana spoke lowly, voice more steady than she expected despite the storm brewing inside of her. "You better keep your mouth shut about things that do not concern you. Have you never heard of this saying? Curiosity kills the cat."

The dark promise in her words made Linhardt flinch for a moment, but he quickly regained his confidence. "To be honest, I was only acting upon baseless rumors I heard. But seeing your reaction now, it seems they weren't so unfounded, after all." He straightened his back, astute eyes glinting. "If you will allow me to speak, the knowledge that you possess will completely overturn what is considered normal in Crest research."

Lysithea peered over Satiana's shoulder, scowling in distaste. "Linhardt, I don't know where you heard it from, but you must stay quiet about everything. You hear me?"

Satiana spread her arms over Lysithea, gritting her teeth in barely restrained menace. "Forget it. It'll be easier to keep his mouth shut if we just cut off that silver tongue of his—"

"I promise you, I will not divulge knowledge of your two crests to anyone. If someone else were to learn of this, I might lose you as a test subject," Linhardt spoke carelessly, unbeknownst to his impending doom.

It was like someone had flipped a switch. The moment he finished his sentence, the surrounding air crackled.

A hacking snicker escaped from Satiana's lips as her vision turned red. She nearly lost it. Eyes narrowed, breath sharp, she clamped down brutally on her fury, a savagery that simmered barely one degree off boiling. This was the second time she had lost control over her emotions lately and Satiana had no idea how to calm herself down, especially right in front of the innocent bastard who spoke such potent poison without even realizing what it meant to Lysithea and her.

"Hah! Test subject? You must really have a death wish," Satiana sneered. "We are not animals, Linhardt. We do not deserve to be placed upon a pedestal, just because we are survivors of tragic experimentation. There is nothing to be applauded or revered about having two goddamn crests that do nothing but bring us pain and suffering." She snarled, taking a step forward as her hand slithered down to the steel blade on her hips. "I gave you a chance to back off, but clearly, you do not understand human language."

"Actually, I do. However, my curiosity far exceeds my fear of you, Satiana," Linhardt stood his ground against the death reaper. "I apologize if my words have offended you. However, I am merely speaking from a scholar's perspective. The knowledge that you both possess may save countless lives from despair."

"What do you mean by that?" Satiana forced herself to speak slowly. "Let me remind you again, since you seem to be so brazen about it all. I am literally doing my best to hold back from slicing your head off. Mind your words as much as possible lest you want to join the ranks of dead scholars who accomplished nothing in their lives."

Linhardt frowned. "I will not allow you to speak of my seniors like that. There is nothing wrong with expanding one's horizons, even if it may lead to a pitfall. If there is no one who dedicates their lives to grasp further awareness of the world around them, then humanity will not develop."

Satiana scowled. "Linhardt, I am not standing here to debate with you regarding your beliefs. I am warning you, I have very little patience, especially regarding sensitive topics that you have now laid your eyes and ears upon."

"Of course." Linhardt nodded, completely indifferent to her threats. "What I mean to say is, I have a hypothesis regarding your…troubles," he phrased his sentence carefully this time. "I've dug through all my books, and there has never been a record of someone with two crests. Therefore, I can see why Lysithea's existence is sworn to secrecy. Just now, you mentioned something about crest experimentation and that only solidified my thoughts. It appears Lysithea forcibly had another crest implanted inside of her."

Satiana twitched, nimble hands dragging the blade off its sheathe.

Linhardt took a step backwards. "No need to hurry. I am about to get to my point." He exhaled lightly, shaking his head. "If what you claim about crest experimentation is true, then I believe there must be a way to remove the Crest as well."

Satiana froze, eyes widening. The dark coil of ire surrounding them slowly returned to dust as her mood immediately brightened. Lysithea practically darted out from behind Satiana's back, lips trembling in shock.

"H-Hold on. Is that true? Can I really have my Crest removed?!" Lysithea blurted out.

Linhardt smiled at her, nodding. "I do not have all the details yet, but Professor Hanneman is currently working on the same hypothesis as I am. You may not know this, but Professor Hanneman is a brilliant Crest scholar who wants to shed light on this mysterious phenomenon in order to save lives like you."

"You're not lying to me, are you?" Satiana sheathed her sword, straightening her posture. She stared directly into his unwavering eyes, feeling her heart thundering at the sudden surge of hope inside of her. "Is there truly a way to help Lysithea survive?"

Linhardt raised his brows. "Survive? Do you mean having two crests inside of her has caused some physical damage to her health?"

Satiana glanced briefly at Lysithea. She nodded in response and Satiana exhaled. "...Yes, you are correct. She doesn't have…much longer to live."

Linhardt's eyes narrowed immediately. His lips slanted down into a frown. "I see. That is certainly a problem. It seems I must ask you to accompany me to Professor Hanneman's quarters immediately. There is no time to waste. If you would divulge your story to us, perhaps we will find valuable information—"

"Stop."

Linhardt blinked. "Pardon?"

Lysithea trembled in place, eyes shut tight in pain. "Stop it. I will not allow you to view me as some…some miraculous being. This crest has been nothing but a curse to me. I don't want to be viewed as some special entity that will benefit the study of Crests in the future. The last thing I want to do is sell myself to endless experiments, even for a greater cause."

Linhardt frowned. "I said nothing about experiments."

"I don't care what you mean, Linhardt. You lack the empathy to deal with me. No matter how much you observe me, learn about me." Lysithea's voice quaked under the tyranny of her nightmares. "You can never understand my pain. What I went through to make it this far."

"Lysithea…" Satiana whispered as she patted Lysithea on the back, rubbing smooth circles on her shoulder blades. "Calm down. It'll be alright. You're not back in that cage anymore."

"I know, Satiana. You brought me out of there." Lysithea shut her eyes, balling her hands into fists. "But I'm not ready yet. To…to tell anyone about my story. Especially not to this bastard who doesn't genuinely want to help me!" Lysithea snapped. "He just wants to use me to benefit the study of Crests in the future!"

It was then her hands glowed white and purple again and Satiana leaped back in shock. "Lysithea, don't!" She screamed when the library suddenly shook at the giant wormhole, devouring Lysithea whole.

"I refuse to go back with you, Linhardt. Don't bother me again about this," Lysithea scowled before she disappeared under a radiant, bright light, warping off into the unknown distance.

Satiana stood awkwardly in the middle of the library. Linhardt slowly walked up to her and Satiana flinched, jerking her body away from his curious gaze. She huddled into the corner of the library, pressing her back against the bookshelves. "What do you want from me now?" She narrowed her eyes with suspicion.

Linhardt held his hand back and sighed. "I don't know why you two are acting so apprehensive towards me. I just wanted to lend a hand."

Satiana glanced away from him, biting her lips. "I know, Linhardt. But you have to understand. This is an extremely sensitive topic for us. It's not just some…some case study you read in your books. This is reality. We didn't suffer through tragedy and bloodshed, just so you can view us as nothing but your experiment subjects."

Linhardt crossed his arms, rubbing his chin in deep thought. "Hm, from what I heard from Professor Hanneman, you only possess one crest, not two. Yet you seem to speak of the same…trauma that Lysithea went through. Did you perhaps take part in a crest experimentation project?"

Satiana shut her eyes in response, trying her best to control her rapidly increasing heartbeat. "Linhardt, I—"

"I do not understand what you went through. But isn't that exactly why we should talk things through? Do you not want to help Lysithea?" Linhardt proposed with a knowing smile on his face. "From what I can see, you care deeply about her. I will not force you to share your story. However, anything, no matter how little, could completely change her future. I am a crest scholar, not one of those evil mages you mentioned earlier. I detest bloodshed. I don't even understand why everyone seems to kill each other so easily, especially at such a young age."

Satiana's eyelids fluttered open, but the distrust was still evident.

Linhardt pushed forward, speaking steadily. "I am trying my best to be as sincere as I can. I hope you will lend me a hand. If you wish to know more about my intentions, then let's start by spending time with each other. I assure you, I have no hidden agendas. If my crest research can save a life, then there is no greater honor for me."

She spent an entire minute analyzing him from afar. Linhardt stood patiently with a pleasant smile on his face. He held a hand out towards her.

Satiana glanced down at the hand. She didn't know whether it would be her savior or her end. Her gaze flickered up again and Linhardt nodded confidently at her.

With a sigh, she reached her hand up and placed them on top of his. "Alright. For now, I shall believe you. But first, I want to talk to Professor Hanneman about this as well."

Linhardt's smile widened. "Of course. I promise you. As a self-proclaimed crest scholar, I will not abandon you nor do anything to harm you in the name of research."

Sylvain was on a venture.

With the gigantic mess involving Gaspard territory behind his back, Sylvain thought he would finally have a moment of peace to enjoy himself again — throw himself at a few ladies around town, wander down the streets at night, drink at a few taverns or two. But then this assassination plot just had to come out of nowhere and destroy his well-earned rest. The entire monastery was in an uproar and that only meant there were fewer girls available on the market for him to feed his sweet words on.

He had no one to spend valuable time with. Felix was sparring in the training hall as usual with Ingrid, while Annette and Ashe were wandering around the monastery for clues. Satiana and Lysithea had warped off to outer space, while Dedue was stuck in the garden on watering duty. Then there was Dimitri and the professor, who disappeared somewhere for a secret rendezvous.

Really, it was just a small headcanon of his, but he had spotted Dimitri and the professor having tea together in the garden enough times to think some sort of romantic bud had grown between the two. Of course, knowing how stoic and stern the both of them were, it was probably just his imagination.

That left only one person for him to engage in a lovely conversation with.

He strolled across the bridge towards the abbey, pretending to be aimless as he glanced through the raucous fray of knights and soldiers, honey-brown eyes searching for a specific bob of gentle, sandy blonde hair. And there she was, standing in front of the statue of the Goddess, praying to the heavens above.

Sylvain plastered a winsome smile on his face, clearing his throat before he walked up to the said woman. He patted her on the shoulder, catching her attention. He threw in a wink, the usual greeting. "Hey there, Mercedes! You look divine, as always. Here for a quick pray?"

Mercedes turned around to face him with a pleasant smile of her own. "Oh, hello there, Sylvain. How did you know I was here?

Sylvain folded his arm behind his head, humming a cheery tune. "Well, it's because I've always had my eye on you, Mercedes. You're a lovely lady and—"

"Oh, I get it!" Mercedes interjected brightly, placing her fist above her palm in a moment of realization. "You're the type who always has his eyes on several women, am I right?"

Sylvain's plastic smile shattered, lips twitching violently. "Uh, well, you're not wrong. I enjoy beholding women, but that's not really the point here." He threw in a quick laugh, feigning ignorance. "You're a very special lady, Mercedes. Your beauty outshines everyone here. Not even the Goddess herself can compare to you."

"Oh my, how sweet of you," Mercedes chuckled softly. "But I think it would be quite blasphemous to consider myself on the same level as the Goddess."

Sylvain blinked. "O-Oh! I guess you're right, haha." He rubbed the back of his head, internally stretching his stumped brain for the right words to say. "But you know that's not what I really meant, Mercedes. I just wanted you to know that you truly are beautiful inside as well."

Cobalt-blue irises sparkled knowingly. "Sure, sure. I know what you mean, Sylvain."

For some reason, Sylvain had a feeling she had seen right through his shallow facade and he chuckled dryly. "Uh, what I mean is, I just wanted to make small talk with you. Things have been quite hectic lately, and I was just wondering how you were holding up." He forced himself to smile again. "I just wanted to check in with you."

"How nice of you, Sylvain," Mercedes smiled, though her lips quickly tipped down into a frown. "To be honest with you, I have a lot on my mind lately." She sighed, tilting her head to the side, placing her head into her palm. "Like what happened between Lord Lonato and the Central Church, the Western Church's scheme, and Lady Rhea's assassination. There's so much going on I'm not sure where to begin."

Sylvain frowned, mirroring her actions in a show of empathy. "Of course. I totally understand your sentiments. To think someone would harbor so much hatred towards the Church. It's shocking, really. I don't blame you for being unnerved by everything lately."

Mercedes hummed in response, bright orbs shining with such piercing clarity it made Sylvain wince for a moment. She smiled knowingly at him. "Sylvain, you do not have to pretend in front of me. I am aware of where your true allegiance lies. You aren't the most devout follower of the Church, am I right?"

Sylvain wanted nothing more than to turn back time or perhaps summon a giant meteor onto his head. He had slipped up again in front of Mercedes. He didn't know what he did wrong, but she was so sharp in that uncanny way of hers. It felt like everything he had tried to build up, his reputation as a bastard and all, would crumble into a pile of sand underneath her knowing gaze.

Really, he wasn't sure how to feel about being seen through so easily. Felix was the first, but he was completely fine with that. Satiana was the second, and it definitely unnerved him, but she never tried to probe into his background, for which he was grateful for.

Then there was Mercedes. He had no idea what she truly thought about him in that air-filled head of hers.

Sylvain breathed a laugh, shifting his weight as something cynical tried to burst forth, but he drowned it out with the sound of his own pulse. His lips curled into a half-grin instead. "Why, I do not know what you're talking about, Mercedes."

Mercedes had the same pleasant smile on her face, though there was no denying the way her eyes flashed dolefully at his response. "Of course you don't, Sylvain. But nevermind that. Please, do not mind me. I just want to have a slight moment of peace to re-gather my thoughts."

Sylvain stared at Mercedes, brows scrunching up. "You know, I've always wondered, Mercedes," he began slowly. "Why are you so devout to the Goddess?"

Mercedes blinked. "Oh, me? I actually grew up in a church."

"Ah, no wonder," Sylvain nodded in understanding. "Did you enjoy life in the church? I can imagine how heavenly life must be living near a bunch of pretty priestesses!"

Mercedes chuckled brightly. "Hm, I don't think you would enjoy such a life, Sylvain. The church was very peaceful. Hardly anything happened, and all we did was pray together in the afternoon sun. But I wanted nothing more than the tranquility that came with faith. My life before I made it to the Church was, well, full of suffering." Her cobalt-blue orbs dimmed for a split second, darkening at the edges.

Sylvain frowned. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that, Mercedes."

Mercedes continued to smile at Sylvain, but anyone could see it was much more rigid than before. "Please, do not apologize, Sylvain. I'm sorry if I bore you with my story."

"Oh, no, you could never bore me with your story, Mercedes. In fact, I'd love to know more about you. As a friend, that is," Sylvain laughed sheepishly. "Would you care to tell me more about yourself? Please?" He pleaded warmly, honey-brown irises softening.

Mercedes hummed in thought. "Of course I don't mind, Sylvain. But I'd love to hear more about you as well. Maybe we can talk more about this over some tea?"

Sylvain excitedly launched himself into the air with a fist pump. "Hell yeah! Uh, I mean, well, of course! Ahem," he cleared his throat awkwardly, sweat dropping. "It would be my pleasure, my lady." He made a mock bow, winking at Mercedes, who responded with a chuckle.

"Oh, Sylvain. I hope you never change," Mercedes laughed.

Sylvain replied with a bright, goofy grin. "Well, if there's something I know I'm good at, it's making the ladies smile. I'm glad you're feeling better, Mercedes." Then, he wiped the plastic expression off his face, replacing it with a stern look, voice suddenly taking a serious undertone. "Mercedes, I wish you will hear me out for a moment. I know you've been in the church's care since young. I can see why these current incidents have stressed you out because of your absolute faith towards the church."

Mercedes's smile faltered. She clasped her hands together tightly in front of her. "You are right, Sylvain. I still cannot fathom why anyone would ever turn their blades towards the church. The church that I know has always accepted everyone, regardless of race, age, or status. It is like home to me."

Sylvain walked up closer to Mercedes and placed his hands lightly on her shoulder. "Then you should continue to believe so. Perhaps there really are corrupted individuals within the church. You know how it is in Fodlan. There's no end to human greed. You have to remember that the church is also a political authority figure in Fodlan — one with tremendous power and resources."

Then he smiled reassuringly. "But that doesn't mean the church is some evil entity that needs to be destroyed. Of course, there will always be rotten apples around. Perhaps some higher-ups hid Christophe's crimes on their own. It's not the whole Church's fault they couldn't prevent the incident from being warped. Your beliefs in the church need not waver to reflect our world, Mercedes. You can continue to believe in the church if that is what you wish. Besides, we can't judge an entire group by the worst of their kind, right?"

Mercedes's eyes widened in surprise. "Sylvain, I didn't know you were someone capable of making such…such profound statements."

Sylvain flushed as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, well, I just don't really enjoy talking about serious things. Politics and all that annoying jazz. I just want to live a peaceful life away from all the heavy baggage that being part of the nobility with crests brings."

Mercedes nodded in agreement, gaze wistful and forlorn. "You are right. There is nothing more that I wish for than peace and quiet."

Sylvain perked up. "Then, I guess we make a brilliant match, don't we?" He threw in another wink.

Mercedes snickered, hiding her lips behind her palms. "I guess in that sense, we do! Now, how about that tea session, Sylvain?"

Sylvain smirked. "Of course, I'll join you. No, scratch that. Please, let me join you, Mercedes. It'll be the best tea party of your life."

Mercedes smiled gratefully at him. "I'll be looking forward to it, Sylvain."

"I see…so my suspicions were not unfounded," Dimitri solemnly spoke. He clasped his hands together under his chin, eyes narrowing. "Lord Arundel. I must investigate him. To think he was involved in this incident with Lord Lonato."

Byleth took a sip from her cup of tea. "To be more exact, he only showed financial support towards the Western Church. There's no evidence that directly leads him to the incident. Of course, that includes the Tragedy of Duscur."

After their last conversation, Dimitri and Byleth made a habit of sharing their hypotheses in the garden. Disguised as a tea party, they would discuss their theories together out in the open. Last time they met, Dimitri told Byleth everything he knew about Lord Arundel, including his peculiar actions during the time of turmoil in Faerghus. Of course, he also told her everything about his true relationship with Edelgard and the existence of his foster mother.

The fact that Lord Arundel was somehow involved with the Western Church only solidified the doubts in his mind. There really was something off with his uncle. It was an understatement to say that his uncle had changed. The current Lord Arundel took unexplainable actions, devoid of morality. Surely, the past and current Lord Arundel cannot be the same person.

But then he would have to explain the presence of dark magic or some weird cloning technique. Dimitri felt a rising headache and pinched the bridge of his forehead, exhaling in exhaustion. No, he had to calm down. It's not like someone could easily replace a high-ranked noble member of the aristocratic family and simply get away with it all. This wasn't a fantasy novel — he had to ground his thoughts in reality.

"Professor, I want to graduate soon. As fast as possible," Dimitri suddenly switched topics. "Faerghus is in a state of political turmoil, and I am the only one who can stop such madness from ensuing again. If I smoothly ascend the throne, perhaps I can issue an official investigation into Lord Arundel and his actions using the evidence you have provided me with." Then he frowned. "Of course, there is still nothing that connects him directly to the Tragedy of Duscur. It truly is a shame."

Byleth closed her eyes as a small wave of guilt rushed past her. If Dimitri knew about the existence of Satiana, everything would change. Combined with the crate of crest stones lying in Fraldarius territory and Renard's witness testimony, it can implicate Lord Arundel with the Western Church's crimes, which are connected to the continuation of human crest-stone experiments. Then, with Satiana's existence, everything would lead neatly towards his implicit involvement in the Tragedy of Duscur.

But Satiana was not ready for that confrontation yet. Not with the way she already acted around Felix and Sylvain. Besides, Rodrigue had not given them the green light to involve the Prince of Faerghus. Byleth felt extremely apologetic towards the young man in front of her, but she hoped to ease some of his stress by sharing his burdens with him.

"There is no need to grow impatient, Dimitri. Justice will be served eventually. The Goddess is always on our side," Byleth found herself speaking like Seteth and she internally snorted at how ridiculous she sounded. "For now, let us focus on the assassination attempt on Lady Rhea."

Dimitri smiled tenderly at Byleth. "Of course, professor. I must say, I owe you a great deal. I had no one to talk to about my thoughts regarding the tragedy." He glanced off to the side, lips curling into a frown. "Everyone seems to tiptoe around the topic with me. I can see why, though. If possible, I wish I can never relive the past again. But it seems the dead refuse to let me free."

Byleth drummed her fingers against the table, cerulean orbs glinting at a peculiar train of thought flickering inside her head. She leaned in closer towards Dimitri, folded her hands neatly. "You speak of the dead as if they are a visible entity around you, Dimitri."

She shot a blank, not believing it to hit directly at the center of her target.

Dimitri went stony. His demeanor changed, sweat glistening like ice on his forehead. His teeth clattered loudly as he shut his eyes tightly. He hid his face behind his giant fists, biting his lips so hard the dried corners bled. "P-Professor, about that…" his breath grew uneven as he choked out his words. "I don't want anyone to know about this, but I…sometimes, I think I've gone crazy."

Byleth arched a brow. She tilted her head to the side. "How so?"

Dimitri mustered up the courage to peer through his closed eyelids, peeking at Byleth to gauge her reaction with shifty eyes. "Well, I sometimes can hear these…these whispers in my head. A few of them, I can recognize their voices. I remember them clearly. My father, the soldiers patrolling the capital, the knights that played with me when I was still a child, and then there's Glenn." He scratched the skin on his hands, hoping the pain would ground him back to reality, but to no avail. "Professor, I see them. They're watching my every move and are begging for me to bring them justice. Give them the heads of those evil bastards who dared to destroy our people. And I cannot wait any longer—"

It started off as a small bud of warmth. Smooth, silky fingers ran over his own sweaty palm, forcing him to release the grip on his own hands. They slowly pried open his fingers, revealing the small streaks of blood on his palms. He winced when her warm touch traced over the new flesh wound.

Dimitri had no idea what he was doing, but he grabbed onto those warm, gloved hands like his life depended on it. He was a drowning man, desperate for air, and she was just the right amount of buoyancy he needed. Her touch grounded him to reality, but was warm and fuzzy enough to allow him room to breathe. It was the stimulation he needed to feel the spark inside him, that burst of light that illuminated the darkness and reminded him he was whole. The thing that shut his inner cynic and the dead whispers around him, just letting him be for a while.

"Dimitri, whatever it is you hear, they are not real," Byleth spoke sternly as she rubbed circles on Dimitri's skin, hoping to soothe the tension within his pulsating muscles. "You must learn to differentiate between the voices of those who are truly around you and those that are lingering inside of you."

Byleth's gaze lacerated him to the soul and demanded nothing less than raw honesty. Dimitri gulped, sweating furiously. "But professor, I can really see and hear them. Their cries for help—"

She yanked his hands towards her with a deep frown. "Dimitri. It is impossible for one to hear the voices of the dead. You know that, don't you? Once you die, it is over. You can never hear, see, or touch them again. What remains are your memories of them. And of course, the piling of guilt and regret inside of you."

Dimitri went silent, pondering her words.

"You say that you can hear them, but those are not their voices. They are what you think they are telling you. Everything is a fabrication of your own exhausted, traumatized mind. If you want them to stop, you must learn to look deep inside yourself," Byleth continued. "Do not silence them by giving into your darkest desires. Silence them by leaving them where they should lie in peace. Step out of their realm on your own."

"But I can't do that," Dimitri refused with a shake of his head. "I cannot leave them there to…to disappear. They deserve better. They deserve to be remembered. They deserve to be revered for their sacrifice. I can't just ignore them, professor."

Byleth found her expression tightening as she stared at the weary boy in front of her. It was an exhaustion of the soul, and she didn't know how to console him properly. She was still a young greenhorn when it came to interpersonal relations. She was never good with her words and although she was confident with her skills, communication was not one of them.

But for now, she had to try. Alleviate the pain. Anything.

She didn't want to admit it, but the boy in front of her reminded her of Satiana and it caused her dead heart to waver. The more she spent time around Satiana and Dimitri, the more Byleth became, for lack of a better word, human. They carried such heavy burdens, deep regrets, and struggled like a half-dead limping beast, surviving on nothing but sheer will and resolution.

She couldn't understand them. She had nothing worth fighting for, never lost anyone dear to her, and didn't understand the responsibility that came with survival.

Byleth was simply…there. Existing. Breathing. But also so empty and so lost at the same time.

She may be the Ashen Demon, heartless and cold. But when she was around them, she found her pulse skipping. Maybe it was just her imagination because she knew more than anyone she had no heartbeat. But something about these kids propelled her to move. Take action. Protect.

"Dimitri," Byleth started again. "Letting them go doesn't mean forgetting them. You can learn to step forward without forgetting the past. I've seen one prime example of that. The past clings to her like a nasty plague. Despite that, she inches forward little by little. And I see how it changed her."

Dimitri snapped his head up, dull blue eyes flickering with recognition. "Satiana?" he whispered her name softly.

Byleth nodded. "She carries a different burden than you. Do you remember what I told you last time? If you wish to know more, you must ask her on your own. Whether she takes your hand, that is a different story. But there are some things I believe only you two can understand about each other. As fellow survivors."

"I…haven't mustered up the courage to talk to her yet. Maybe I'm the only one who noticed it, but she seems to avoid me," Dimitri muttered. "I don't want to make her uncomfortable with my presence."

Byleth released Dimitri's hands and chuckled to herself. "Dimitri, you must be the one to initiate the conversation. If not, you two can never reconcile your…differences." Byleth chose her words carefully, cerulean orbs twinkling knowingly. "Satiana can be easily frightened. Knowing her, she will never choose to befriend you first. Therefore, you should be the one to take the first step. Trust me. It will be fine. That is…" she trailed off, hesitating for a split second. "As long as those voices inside your head do not cloud your thoughts."

Dimitri smiled wryly. "Then maybe I should prolong my discussion with her. Unfortunately, I can still hear them very clearly, professor. I am sorry."

Byleth exhaled deeply. "No worries, Dimitri. Take your time." She lifted her cup of tea and took another sip, letting the soothing herbal aroma elevate her dampening mood. She placed the cup back onto its placeholder. "Now, perhaps it's time for a change of pace. Dimitri, there is something that I need to ask you."

Dimitri raised his eyebrows. "And what would that be about, professor?"

"What exactly do you plan to do after you graduate? I want to hear your thoughts. More specific details, if possible." Byleth crossed her legs, leaning her back against the chair into a comfortable position. "What are your thoughts about the current political situation in Fodlan?"

Dimitri released a small snort in surprise. He straightened his posture, lips curling into a lop-sided smile. He sighed softly, leaning against his elbow as he placed his head on his palm. "Professor, that is quite a heavy topic for a tea party."

Byleth shrugged. "To be fair, you have a tendency to prefer serious matters, Dimitri. You're not a man of humor, after all."

Dimitri chuckled in response. "That, you are correct, professor." Then he frowned. "I'm not sure where I should begin. But first off, I need to discover the truth behind the Tragedy of Duscur. I cannot move forward without putting that incident to rest behind me."

"And what do you plan to do once you find those that slaughtered your brethren?" Byleth asked dourly.

Dimitri didn't hesitate before he spoke. Not even the slightest sign of reluctance. Merciless and brutal, his powerful aura swarmed over the duo. Byleth had only seen a small glimpse of it so far, but now she realized she was facing the potent darkness fully unsheathed. His eyes glistened like polished coal, dark and shadowed. "I will kill them all. Revenge is all that the current me lives for. As the sole survivor, it is my duty to appease the souls of the dead by bringing them the heads of those evil bastards."

Byleth closed her eyes, turning away from Dimitri's sudden outburst of unimaginable hatred and loathing. She refused to show him how much his words affected her and feigned indifference with the usual blank expression on her face. "I see. If that is what you truly wish for, then I will not stop you. However, as your teacher, let me give you some advice." She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts together. "Before your duty to the dead, I wish you will become the King Faerghus needs in the present."

Dimitri paused, the menace surrounding him wavering against the light breeze sweeping through the table. He folded his hands on the table with a frown. "Professor, I understand what you are trying to tell me. It is true that Faerghus is in huge turmoil as of lately. Bandits run rampant, thievery becomes second nature, haughty nobles greedily rake in their profits. I am aware that I am the only one capable of stopping this mess in my father's stead. However, I am not worthy of such a position. Although the Kingdom needs me, I cannot proudly stand up to aversion and take control when I have not cleared all the doubts in my head about that tragedy."

Byleth had an inscrutable expression etched upon her features. It was hard to tell whether his response disappointed her, but there was no denying that look in her eyes. He had seen it countless times throughout his life from various spectators.

Pity.

Dimitri felt woeful, eyes softening. "Professor, please, do not look at me like that."

"...I can't help it, Dimitri. Sometimes, when I see you, my heart throbs. It's not a pleasant feeling." Byleth raised her hand absentmindedly to her chest. "It hurts, to be honest."

Dimitri chuckled somberly, shutting his eyes away from her shifting expressions. "I can't believe I moved you with my story. It's quite the sight to see you so blatantly unnerved like this. Though such a sour expression does not fit a person of your stature, professor. I'd rather see you smile or laugh instead. Surely, that would be a brilliant sight."

"I'm sorry," Byleth apologized. "I'll…try to smile more next time."

Dimitri hid a snort under his breath. "Professor, there's no point if you have to force yourself to feel joy. Then again, it's my fault for speaking of such grim topics." He shook his head lightly, returning to the pleasant, well-mannered facade he usually had on. "Professor, thank you for spending time with me. I really enjoy your company. Perhaps next time, I will have a…better response to your inquiries."

Byleth nodded. "Yes. I hope you take my words into consideration, Dimitri. I do not want to see you walking down a path of self-destruction."

"Of course, professor. Now, I shall take my leave. It has been a pleasure." Dimitri slid out of his seat and gave the professor a bow before he turned towards the exit of the garden.

Each step he took grew heavier, and he sank rapidly into the muddied swamp inside of him. Unfortunately for him, the light hung temptingly in front of him, yet was placed just barely out of reach. It wasn't possible for him to shed away the chains that bound him to the darkness.

At least not yet.