Soft morning light streamed through the windows to wash across her face and rouse her. Byleth yawned loudly and stretched her arms and legs against the early morning ach that accompanies a deep dreamless sleep. She must not have moved all night.
Blinking the sleep from her eyes, the mirror on the wall faded into focus and she was reminded of what had happened the night before. The broken glass remained on the floor near the dressing table where she had dropped it along with the fur that had fallen from her shoulders. Her head and neck were sore even after her initial stretch. It has not been a dream.
Before she could fully recall the frightful encounter at the dressing table, a sigh and stretch behind her reminded her that she was not alone. She rolled over to find Dimitri finishing a sleepy stretch that had his arms flexed over his head. The bare skin of his chest looked smooth and soft in the morning light and the urge to drag her fingers along the length of his torso overcame her.
As though feeling her gaze on him, he peeked at her through narrowed eyes and grinned. Sighing again sleepily, he wrapped an arm around her bare waist to drag her against his side. He moved her as though she weighed nothing and the sensation sent thrills across her skin. The feel of his warm bare skin beneath her own was at once comforting and arousing, despite the ache in her head. A deep pleasure rumbled in his throat as the feel of her skin against him had a similar effect. It was with lazy effort that she shifted to straddle him and rest her head across his chest.
Dimitri, trying to wake more fully, stretched again beneath her and she felt the length of him harden between her legs. She pressed her ear to his chest, listening to the sound of his heart and breath until he relaxed once again. "How are you feeling?" he asked, raising a hand to stroke her hair.
" 'm fine, " she muttered, turning her face to press her lips heavily against his skin which proved to be as soft as newly tanned leather. He sighed deeply again and she felt a satisfying twitch in response.
"I've never seen you like that before, Byleth. You could barely speak," he insisted. She clung to him as he shifted to prop himself up on his pillows. She nestled her face against his chest, making it even more difficult for him to see her face but it did not deter him. "I'm worried about you."
With a puffed exhale, she ceased her burrowing and replaced her cheek to his chest. She took her lower lip between her teeth, fretting as she considered. She could simply blame it on exhaustion. There was no need to tell him about her memory right now. But if she did not tell him now, when would her next opportunity present itself? More than once, her breath caught as words nearly tumbled out of her but a second thought stopped her. Instead, she tightened her arms around him, giving him a tight squeeze and hoping he would lose interest in this line of questioning. But he did not.
"Whatever it is that you want to say, please say it."
Her father often told her to trust her gut and it had not only saved her life but the lives of her students. He would also have told her to grit her teeth and do what she had to do, no matter what it was. Even though this advice had often been employed on the battlefield, it was applicable here, much to her chagrin. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply and did just that; listened to her gut.
"My head and neck are a little sore," she began slowly. "Other than that, I feel fine." Again, she chewed her lip, knowing and dreading the rest. Her stomach churned with such ferocity that she thought she might be sick but the feel of his fingers in her hair and his thumb brushing tenderly across her temple soothed her anxieties. Perhaps he would not persist and she could rest here against his cool, taut skin.
"I'm glad there's no pain beyond that but that's not all you have to tell me, is it?"
Byleth sighed heavily but the restlessness in her stomach did not go away. She sat up to slide from the warmth and comfort of his body, gathering the bedding around her as she did. Watching her with calm concern, he made no move to cover himself as the bedding slid off his body like silk on marble.
Her cheeks burned as she looked down at her knees beneath the blankets. It was desperately difficult to focus with the sheer perfection of him reclined before her. She resolved to look directly into his eyes before she spoke but her gaze wandered across his form like an adolescent girl observing from the sidelines of the training yard.
Her words collected in her throat, her glowed a darker shade of red and she clenched at the blankets until her hands shook and she could stand it no longer. Squeezing her eyes shut to block the sight of him from her periphery she blurted out, "I have no memory of marrying you or coming here."
Her statement had tumbled out of her in such a rush that she breathed a sigh of relief before looking up to Dimitri's face. He looked more confused than startled as she sat in expectant silence. As he realized she was waiting for a response, she saw the confusion shift quickly into dismissal. He must think that this was a joke.
He sat up and chuckled but the wry expression on his face faded upon reading her face. "You're not joking, are you?"
She shook her head apologetically but kept her eyes downcast. Her cheeks burned with the intensity of her blush as she caught a glimpse of stomach and chest, his musculature perfectly contoured in the soft morning light and shadows. "When did this happen?" he asked.
"Yesterday. I woke up yesterday morning not knowing where I was."
His eyebrows lowered as he tried to reconcile the impossibility of what she was telling him. "I suppose that would explain a few things," he admitted slowly. "So you don't remember the day I left for Duscar?"
"No."
"The night before I left for Duscar?"
"No, Dimitri."
"Tell me you remember our wedding. The archbishop came to Fhirdiad to officiate. The Cardinal was beside himself! Come now, you don't remember? Seteth cried!"
As his frustration grew she couldn't help her annoyance. Did he think that if he stated enough instances that she should remember; that her memory would just spring forth? She looked at him blankly with no recollection of what he was describing and gave a slight shake of her head.
He folded his arms dejectedly and muttered, "I cried, for goddessake."
Seeing him this close to a pout softened whatever anger had been building within her. Inching a bit closer to him she ventured a meek question, "Did I cry?"
Dimitri smiled fondly. "No. You said you almost did but I suspect you said that for my benefit." He looked at her, evaluating. Perhaps he still thought she was playing a joke on him. "You're sure that you don't remember a single day together?"
"Yes," she insisted though her patience was once again fraying and yet, he doggedly continued to test her supposed missing memory. "Now please could you cover yourself up?" she asked, flicking a wrist at him as she averted her eyes again. "It's impossible for me to concentrate with you… like that."
"Like what?" he asked with all the innocence of someone accustomed to being undressed her presence. Byleth's eyes bulged as she looked at him incredulously and the color in her cheeks spread like wildfire to her face. Unable to articulate it, she cleared her throat harshly and allowed her eyes to dart up and down his body.
"What? Oh!" He too cleared his throat as a blush to rival her own sprang along his cheekbones. With all the grace of someone wishing to maintain their dignity while rushing at the same time, he sat up to cover his lap with one of his pillows. "Don't tell me that last night was the first time you remember…" his voice trailed off but the insinuation was clear and she sniffed indignantly.
"No! It was the second."
"Second?!" he choked. "My goddess... " It was his turn to take a moment to collect himself and she watched in silent amusement as he cycled through any number of questions and statements before he could ask a clear question. "When was the first time… that you remember…?"
The memory of their first joining was still so clear in her mind as though it had only happened a few nights ago. Recalling it brought about a bitterness and sadness that she had not fully addressed and she looked away from him as she spoke. "I remember the night before the battle at Garreg Mach."
As though someone had doused him with cold water, Dimitri ceased his nervous shifting and stared fixedly on her face. "I see. And after that?"
"The battle. I remember fighting the Adrestian army at the gates of Garreg Mach." Dimitri's face darkened as she spoke. It was clear that he remembered the battle too but wished that he did not. "I remember our plan to get you to Edelgard but…" she paused, furrowing her brow in concentration. "She escaped and the archbishop transformed into a giant beast… a dragon." Her recollection of the day was returning to her quickly now and she spoke at a feverish pace.
"She razed the field, pushing the army back but the Adrestian army had demonic beasts and they attacked the archbishop so I charged them with the Sword of the Creator and... " The words died on her lips as the fog clouding her memory returned, much thicker than before. "Something… Something happened to me?"
Dimitri watched with weighted sobriety as she thought. When the memory did not present itself, Byleth met his gaze. "What happened to me?"
He smiled and looked, to her, a little sad as he took her hands and soothingly stroked the tops with his thumbs. "You were injured during the counter assault. Your strategy worked like a dream but … the healers were focused on me and my team. They were out of range when you launched your flanking attack."
Byleth frowned and looked away.
"The archbishop herself tended to your wounds and you made a full recovery," Dimitri continued. "I was… preoccupied and didn't realize what had happened until you'd already been removed from the battle field."
The horror of that preoccupation flashed across her imagination and her eyes darted back to him. It was his turn to avert his eyes, lowering them as shame crept across the blue of his eyes. "While I was distressed to learn of your injuries, I was also glad that you did not witness me in that state."
"I am not proud of what I did," he continued softly, his eyes growing distant. His hands tightened around her own. "It had to be done and imagine how many lives would have been lost if we hadn't prevailed." Boldness and defiance leapt onto his face as he met her eyes again. She was certain that the boldness was for her benefit and the defiance for himself. What he may not realize was, he did not need to convince her.
Byleth smiled in what she hoped was a kind reassuring way. Seeing him slip back into guilt conjured all sorts of memories of their time at the academy. She never wanted to see him suffer like that again. "You did what had to be done."
She touched his face, rough with stubble so pale that it glinted in the sunlight. He leaned into her palm and closed his eyes. Warmth swelled within her, knowing that her touch could provide him with relief and she forgot the distress of a flawed recollection. What did it matter if she couldn't remember the battle itself? They had triumphed and Dimitri had slain his demons figuratively and literally.
He made a deep, soft sound of contentment before turning to kiss her palm. With the finality of someone who had come to a decision he straightened. "Come, my beloved! We have a lot of catching up to do if we are to restore your memories!"
Dimitri sprang from the bed to gather clothing for the day. "I understand now why you let Margaret dress you. I thought you were trying something different to welcome me home." A single eyebrow shot up at this. Did he mean to say that she'd been needlessly subjected to such torture? "You often dress for morning training but then become too busy to be bathed and changed." He laughed. "Margaret will never give up now that you've shown her she can bully you into it!"
Byleth was relieved to find plenty of clothing more suited to her sense of style. Among the dresses and formal attire, she found richly woven leggings and pants along with thick doublets and fur lined cloaks. Alongside delicate slippers she found boots of varying heights and shades of expertly worked leather.
They were in no hurry to dress themselves and Byleth asked questions freely. Dimitri regaled her with stories of the years she was missing from the academy and her first days in Fhirdiad. No detail was too minute and he expounded liberally until her mind brimmed with memories she hoped to recall on her own eventually. Byleth was so enrapt in a retelling of her first rebellion against Margaret's morning rituals, she did not realize she'd approached the dressing table and mirror.
The crunch and soft grinding screech of glass against the stone beneath the sole of her boot jarred her attention. A glance beneath her boot found the shattered remains of the crystal tumbler from the night before. Ice encased her stomach as she realized she was standing before the mirror and she focused her eyes hard on a brush on the table, fearful of what she would see in the mirror if she should look up.
Dimitri's voice trailed off and she heard him approaching. "Are you okay?"
She felt like a child who was suddenly afraid of ghosts in a dark room. Despite the fear in her stomach she forced herself to raise her eyes to find only herself and Dimitri's reflections looking back. Feeling foolish, she nodded.
"You said you saw something in the mirror last night. Do you remember what it was?" he asked gently.
She took a deep breath and raised her hand to the glass. She pressed her fingertips lightly to the cool surface and the pane bowed slightly beneath the pressure. "A girl with fierce eyes. She knew my name."
Recalling the image brought the hair on her arms to stand at attention. The contrast of such a youthful face and the grim ancient eyes had a profound effect on her, even in broad daylight as she remembered it. The girl had been startling familiar and angry about something she couldn't pin down. Had the girl been angry at her?
"If you press any harder, you'll break the glass," Dimitri said soothingly. As though he'd broken her out of a trance, she realized that she'd been pushing against the glass as though to pass through it. She pulled her hand back, cradling it protectively. As afraid as she was of this mysterious girl, Byleth found that she longed to see her again.
The next moment, Dimitri's warm hands closed on her slender shoulders to turn her gently. "You look afraid but you don't have to be. I will always protect you."
Sighing softly, she melted against him, allowing him to support her. He took her chin in his hand to raise her face and heat filled her cheeks at the softness of his lips pressed against her own. She returned his affection in kind, hoping that he could feel her devotion in her kiss.
"Your Majesties," came a hesitant voice, muffled through the door. The call was followed by an equally tentative knock.
Dimitri pulled away from her with a sharp irritated intake of breath. She returned his long-suffering smile with one of her own. "Enter," he called as he shifted to stand beside her and face the door.
As soon as the door had opened wide enough to permit it, the young servant behind it bowed at the waist with his hand to his heart. "Your Majesties, pardon the interruption but, Margrave Gautier's son, Sylvain, has just arrived and is urgently insisting that he speak with you both."
Beyond the servant, the muffled sound of voices drifted down the corridor. "When we pressed him for the reason, he became… agitated." For sound to have reached them this far from the grand hall it would have to be very loud indeed.
"Of course we will see him. You know he is a long-standing friend. There's no need to interrogate him." Dimitri replied with no attempt to hide the exasperation in his voice. But as he moved toward the door, the servant straightened and appeared to brace himself to remain in place blocking the door. "Is there more?" demanded Dimitri, his patience beginning to thin.
"Yes, your Majesty. He seems, unwell, your Majesty."
"Unwell? What do you mean?"
The guard licked his lips nervously. "He is raving and wild. We cannot persuade him to tell us what has brought him to the castle and he insists that he can speak only to you and the Queen, whom he calls the Professor."
"Then it must be very urgent." He attempted once again to step past the young man and when he did not move Dimitri sighed. "I know that you mean well, but I assure you that we'll be alright."
The young man nodded but moved aside slowly as though questioning the wisdom in it. The sounds of disagreement grew as they neared the grand staircase and, despite his dismissal of the guard's warning, Dimitri quickened his pace. She had to step lively to keep up with his long strides and as they neared the grand staircase, she could finally make out what was being said.
"I don't know how many times I need to tell you that this is urgent. I must speak with Dimitri now. Let me through!" The cool quality of his voice was strained with frustration. Her pulse quickened at the sound which was unnaturally grave for her former student.
"I cannot do that, Lord Gautier," insisted a stern voice. "We have announced your arrival, now you must wait until…"
"There is not time to wait!" Sylvain's voice echoed off the walls of the hall, cutting the speaker off in mid-sentence. Anger had broken through his restraints and the two of them nearly ran to close the remaining distance down the corridor.
As the scene below came into view, it became evident that Sylvain was not himself. Two castle guards stood below the stairs, barring his way up with crossed spears while another had positioned herself on the tiled floor in front of them. The fiery-haired young lord was pacing before her as though he was a trapped animal as they argued, gesturing wildly with his hands.
Two men stood behind Sylvian, clothed in the colors of House Gautier, they were soldiers of some sort, though no decoration indicated their ranks. While Sylvain actively engaged the soldiers at the staircase, the two hung back as though exhausted or fearful. None of them had removed their riding cloaks and their boots were coated in mud from the road; they must have dismounted and come directly inside. Dimitri and Byleth exchanged worried glances.
Sylvain remained focused on the guards and did not notice their arrival at the top of the stairs. "If you do not let me through then I will force my way through!" With a single defined motion, he drew his sword from the scabbard at his hip and the guards before him shifted fluidly into defensive stances. The guard woman shouted and drew her own sword and moved to engage him.
Dimitri's voice boomed out, filling the grand hall. "What is the meaning of this?"
Everyone stopped in their tracks, eyes and heads darting up to the top of the stairs where they stood. The guards and Sylvain's companions swiftly bent at the waist and sunk to their knees at the sight of the king who had begun a swift descent on the staircase. Byleth was fast behind him.
"Dimitri!" shouted Sylvain, who had not stopped to bow or even duck his head. "Will you tell them to get out of my way?"
"You all should all be ashamed of yourselves," continued Dimitri. "Drawing arms against one another in this manner." The ice in his eyes spared no one present save her. "What has transpired here should never happen in my home and I will ask one more time, what is the meaning of this?"
"Your Majesty," began the head guard woman who had been addressing Sylvain directly. "Lord Gautier entered the palace in such a fury that the servants fled and he would tell no one why he was here. He then began demanding to see you and the Professor. We were fearful for your safety, your Majesty."
As this, he leveled his disapproving gaze at his old schoolmate and friend who shook his head innocently. "I wouldn't have had to raise such a scene if they'd just cooperated," he retorted as he sheathed his sword with a click.
"Please, Sylvain," the warning in Dimitri's voice was as clear as though he'd stated it outright. "Thank you for your concern but I assure you it is unfounded. Please return to your posts."
"Yes, your Majesty."
The guards returned to their posts at the grand entrance at the far end of the hall and Sylvain swiftly closed the distance between him and the king. Dimitri took his arm in greeting. "I have to speak with you," he said in tones so low that Byleth almost missed it. "And you," he continued, addressing her directly.
She was not the only one disarmed by his demeanor and tone. "Of course," Dimitri said slowly as he evaluated his friend. "This had better not be about a woman."
Sylvain tightened his grip on Dimitri's forearm and drew him closer. His knuckles were white and he spoke through his teeth. "Not here. In private." Only when Dimitri nodded his agreement did Sylvain release him.
The walk to Dimitri's private study was tense one. Sylvian kept pace silently beside Dimitri and Byleth followed behind. The two men who had accompanied Sylvain followed behind her. Much like Dimitri, Sylvian had barely changed from the young man she remembered. Save for longer hair, an inch or two in height and an uncharacteristic grimness about his eyes, he looked unchanged from his time at the academy. There was also a sense of focus about him, a maturity that she remembered seeing in rare instances and she wondered if this man was a truer representation of Sylvain and the play-boy she'd instructed all those years ago was something he put on for show.
The King's study was a small room, intimate by royal standards and not meant for large audiences. Like all rooms in the palace there was a large marble fireplace which remained unlit due to the sudden nature of the room's use. The prominent feature of the room was the antique, oaken desk which occupied much of the floor space; a heavy piece of furniture that has belonged to the past kings of Faerghus dating back to the King of Lions.
Once they were behind the closed door of the study they fanned out across the room, no one opting to sit in the chairs before the desk. Byleth positioned herself near the fireplace which provided her an easy view of the room's occupants. The men who had accompanied Sylvain remained as near the door as they could and, now that she could see them clearly, Byleth recognized a haunted gauntness about them. This was as concerning to her as Sylvain's demeanor and silence.
Before, it had seemed that he was bursting to say whatever had warranted such a tumultuous entrance but now he silently paced the length of the room before the desk. The carpeted floor damped the sounds of his footfalls. Dimitri watched in stubborn silence until he could stand it no longer.
"Well?" he blurted out. "What was so important that you couldn't wait for us to come down?"
Sylvain stopped his pacing but did not turn to face his friend. His jaw clenched so hard that Byleth could see the muscles flex beneath his ears. "It's gone." One of the men gave the slightest wince at the utterance.
"What?" asked Dimitri, leaning forward to hear him clearly.
Amber eyes flashed with impatience as they raised to settle on Dimitri. "It's gone," he repeated with biting clarity. "It's completely gone."
Confusion did not prevent Dimitri's continued scrutiny and his eyes remained fixed on those of his friend. "What are you talking about?"
"It's gone! Swallowed up! Vanished! There's no trace of it. It's like it sank and disappeared or was never there to begin with!" He had resumed his pacing again and raked his fingers through his short wavy hair at the same feverish pace of his clipped words.
"I heard you the first time," Dimitri replied sharply. "What is gone?"
"Sreng." As if uttering the name had broken the tension in him, Sylvain stopped his pacing and his hands hung at his sides. "Sreng is gone."
Dimitri studied him for a moment before laughing and shaking his head. "What do you mean Sreng is gone?"
"Just what I said," replied Sylvain flatly. "It's gone and the mountains that stood between us have vanished into… nothingness."
Still confused and growing impatient, Dimitri persisted. "You mean that the nation of Sreng? The tribes and settlements and so forth?"
"No. The literal landmass has vanished. We can only assume that the people and settlements went with it."
Dimitri blinked, confused. "And beyond Sreng?"
"There is nothing beyond."
"Sylvain," Dimitri began, a warning clear in his voice as he leaned forward to press his hands against the surface of his desk. "Stop speaking in riddles. If this is some sort of joke…"
"This is no joke, Dimitri!" insisted Sylvain as the agitation from before began to creep back into his voice. He turned to face Dimitri fully, not intimidated by the broad-shouldered man leaning over the desk toward him. "Why would I joke about this?!"
All the while, Byleth had continued to observe the ashen faces of the men who still lingered near the door. As the conversation heated between the two nobles, the distress on their faces became more evident as though Sylvain's mention of what had happened brought them back to it.
"Who are these men you've brought with you?" she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the redundant argument flying between the king and lord.
Her former students looked at her, blinking as though they'd forgotten her presence. Sylvian straightened from leaning toward Dimitri and raked his hand through his hair. "This is Anton and Jenson." Each bowed at their introduction. "Jenson serves on the border watch and was on guard duty when it happened." He waved a hand, as though conceding the floor then moved aside to lean against the window frame beside the desk. Leaning there, he was the very picture of casual ease save the thumbnail he began to chew on as he watched.
Jenson, a red-haired man in his middle years, raised his grey eyes to meet hers for a moment before darting away uneasily toward Dimitri. He stepped forward stiffly and offered an anxious bow. "Thank you for making the journey, Jenson. Will you please tell us what you saw?"
"I wish that I could, your Majesty, but truth-be-told, I saw nothing." He spoke in the harsh tongue of someone who rarely left the northern border. Their cadence was naturally fast but this man, driven by his nerves, spoke so quickly that Byleth had to concentrate to follow along.
"The night was clear, as one would expect for the season, and it was my first overnight with the Guard since returning from leave. I spent the great majority o' my years a-top those walls, watching the stars wink above the desert beyond our borders and that night there was nothin' amiss. Nothing."
His voice trailed off at the word and he wetted his lips with his tongue before continuing. "One moment, it was there and the next it weren't. It was like I was starin' inta a dark room with no windows or candles or the like. Like I'd blinked and somthin' that shoulda been there wasn't no more." He rubbed his fingers and thumbs together at his sides as he spoke. It seemed that just the recollection was strong enough to displace him.
"I looked down, fearful that I'd died or been separated from my body but myself and the fort were still there. Lookin' over the parapet, I seen the land below and the other soldiers like me who couldn't believe what they were seein' neither. They were shoutin' "Where did it go?" and "Goddess save us!" and I looked north and the water remained until a certain point." He splayed his palm flat in front of him and swiped his other hand down to chop on his open palm. "And then it fell, like the biggest waterfall you ever seen. And beyond that, more nothin'."
Jenson looked down as beads of sweat began to form visibly on his brow, and his eyes fixed on the floor seemed to shake with the intensity of what he saw beyond it. "We was all afraid, your Majesties. Afraid to look deep inta it. The longer you look inta it, a body feels like it'll soon be nothin' and, if you don't look away you'll become nothin' or you'll be unmade or… somethin'..." His voice trailed off until it became inaudible. Whatever he beheld in his mind's eye was real enough to freeze him where he stood.
The air grew heavy as she watched and Byleth became aware of the distinct chill of fear beginning to spread from her spine. She barely suppressed a shiver and no one spoke for what felt like several minutes. Finally, Anton placed a hand firmly on Jenson's shoulder and, giving him a squeeze, brought him back with a jump.
"Forgive me, your Majesties," he apologized, ducking his head fervently. "I must have left me-self just then."
"There is nothing to forgive." Dimitri made a good show of remaining unaffected by what the soldier had shared but Byleth observed a distinct strain at the corners of his mouth.
The two men looked to Sylvain as though unsure of how to proceed. He remained still at the window, his eyes fixed on the floor in front of him but removed his thumbnail from between his teeth long enough to say, "Go on. Tell him the rest."
Anton, the officer among the two, kept a hand protectively on Jenson's shoulder, squeezing reassuringly before he stepped forward to bow first to Dimitri and then to her. "Your Majesties," he began, "The defense of the northern border has been under my charge since graduating from the Officers Academy many years ago. My lord, Margrave Gautier, observed my potential and sent me in my youth." He touched his forehead respectfully. Unlike Jenson, his dialect reflected that of the capital and clipped along with the pace of someone who had been in command of others for many years.
"My men woke me right away and I sent a scout to investigate it further. I thought it was some sort of trick of the light or natural occurrence but my scout didn't return so I sent a small party to look for him."
"Did they find him?" asked Dimitri, urging him to continue.
Anton raised his eyes, looking to Sylvain who also nodded his encouragement.
"Yes, your Majesty. He hadn't come to any physical harm but his mind was … he was raving as though he'd seen something too terrible to see. He had torn his hair away in fistfuls and had taken all of his clothing off… We took him back to the fort and waited until sunrise to venture forth again." As though recalling this were taxing, he dragged a large hand through his thick dark mustache then rubbed at his hairless chin before continuing.
"We approached the border where the roots of the mountains began and found that the earth abruptly stopped as though it'd been cleanly sliced away. No blade of grass or clod of dirt looked out of place to indicate a landslide or something natural. Even with the sun's beams shining down upon us, no light could penetrate the complete darkness beyond. Many a battle-hardened soldier fell to the ground and wept for staring into it. I ventured to the edge to look down to see if the peaks of the mountains could be seen below…" he trailed off and once again dragged his fingers heavily across his face before collecting himself to continue.
"There was nothing, your Majesties. Beyond only a hand or two's width the darkness was so complete that my sense of balance flew askew and I nearly toppled into the abyss. Thank the goddess it was not so…" Outwardly, Anton remained composed save for his hand at his face and the occasional twitch of his mustache. Between the two of them and their sweating and anxious compulsory movements, it was evident that the telling of this was difficult and taxing.
At last, Sylvain spoke, breaking the silence and deep thought that had settled in yet again. "They called for my father and my father sent me to investigate." His voice was soft and he remained deathly still near the window as he raised his eyes to meet Dimitri's. "It is exactly as they say. Arrows vanish without evidence of striking something solid. Spells cannot illuminate it, we sent fireballs in all directions."
"And what of Fraldarius? Have you seen Rodrigue?" asked Dimitri, fear raising subtly in his voice.
"When I got back to the castle to deliver the report to my father, Felix was there. Rodrigue sent him to tell us what they were seeing. It's the same."
Dimitri looked between Sylvain and the two soldiers whose eyes were once again focused on the floor for a moment, considering, before turning his gaze to her. She could not fault him the disbelief in his eyes. The story was incredible, implausible and yet here were three witnesses who were disturbed by what they had seen. She shook her head as though to say that she too did not know what to make of it. He looked to the desk between his hands searching for the answer as if it were etched into the wood.
"If this is true," he began softly. "What do you expect me to do?"
Sylvain scoffed in response to the question and Dimitri's head snapped toward him.
"You are telling me that a continent has vanished into an impenetrable abyss that drives people to insanity. What in the name of Seiros can I do?"
"You are the King," interjected Sylvain, stepping forcefully toward the desk.
"I am still just a man!"
"The King gives people hope!" Sylvain topped his exclamation, passionately. Dimitri shut his mouth with a snap, unable to find a rebuttal. "Come back with us and see for yourself."
"The soldiers are frightened, your Majesty," interjected Jenson timidly. "Seein' you there would be encouraging to 'em, your Majesty."
"It isn't like you to throw in the towel so quickly, your Majesty," Sylvain added under his breath, prompting Dimitri to look at Byleth once again. She quirked an eyebrow at him and smirked her silent agreement with Sylvain. "Besides, we didn't come here just for you. We came here for the professor as well."
Byleth considered him, tilting her head to the side and wondering if one of his signature pick-up lines would soon follow. He smiled fondly at her, hope rising in his eyes. "I haven't forgotten how you tore a hole in the sky, Professor. If anyone can figure out what is going on, you can."
She studied him a moment longer before returning his smile and giving a definitive nod of her head. "Let's do it."
"Very well." Dimitri straightened sounding more like himself. "We'll gather a small party and summon some additional mages from the school to assist with the warp."
"Thank you, Dimitri." The relief that Sylvain surely felt was beginning to manifest on his face and Byleth noticed how tired he looked.
"You're welcome, my friend." Dimitri clapped him reassuringly on the back. "I only pray that you and your men are mistaken in your accounts. I have not witnessed it and yet, I am afraid."
"Let's get you all some food and water," Byleth interjected, hoping to head off any new discussion before they could prepare. Belaboring the point would do nothing but rile up their fear and apprehension. "You should rest before we depart."
As she shepherded them out of the study, she glanced over her shoulder to find Dimitri still behind his desk. She lingered in the door frame, watching until he raised his face. When he did, his gaze was distant, focused on something unseen and far away.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
He smiled softly at the sound of her voice and she watched him return to the room. "Yes," he assured her as he straightened and strode toward the door to join her. He stopped beside her and placed a hand on the curve of her waist. His hand felt heavy on her.
"Looks like we'll have to delay our walk down memory lane." He took her chin in his hand and studied her face tenderly. She nearly raised on the balls of her feet to kiss him when he reluctantly released her. "Come on. We have a lot of work to do."
As he turned to go down the hallway, his mind already miles away from her, an acute sadness began to harden in the pit of her stomach. She was suddenly possessed by a sharp urge to chase after him and throw her arms tightly around him. The news from the border must have shaken her if such a strong separation anxiety could take hold of her.
Shaking her head, Byleth followed at a normal pace behind him to assist with the preparations.