What's left of the so-called Holy Mausoleum is an absolute mess. Most noticeably, there's a massive hole pouring shaded sunlight into the place– caused by Rhea's… transformation collapsing the whole back wall of the structure exposing the cavern to the rubble-strewn valley below.
That must be where you are, My Byleth.
Linhardt has really taken to the task of figuring out your whereabouts, and it's rather refreshing to see him so dedicated… This morning, he wandered out of his dorm room with a steaming coffee (Hubert's roast, of course) mug in hand, wearing only a bath-robe and slippers. He nearly tripped down the stairs leading down from the door and dropped a bunch of books that were slung under his arm. He must have been a very interesting next-door neighbor.
At the very least, I'm relieved that his room was in between yours and Dorothea's. I would've never lived that down otherwise…
After that, I may have followed him a bit as he made his way down to his workspace down here… mostly because I have a rather urgent question to ask of him that probably can't wait any longer… particularly because I spent the entire morning vomiting into my toilet.
I must say that I'm well and truly impressed at how much he's managed to catalog and dissect from our battle down here, though. At first, he was a bit overwhelmed, but I encouraged him to make use of any resources that the army could provide – cranes, towers, trebuchets – all those sorts of things. Within a couple of days, rubble was being catapulted out from the mausoleum and into the valley.
That's only an issue now because I think you're down there, Byleth. Everyone – particularly Hubert – seemed rather exasperated when I mentioned that theory.
It was at that moment I realized how much I missed the way you would just let me suggest all sorts of visionary ideas to you, and you'd just get it – even if you keep claiming that you didn't in this diary. Sometimes your thoughts need to catch up to what I see behind your eyes, My Love.
So the responsibility falls upon me to find you.
Hubert's been hard at work piecing together clues as well… and he's definitely guilty enough to not try and kill you this time. He knows I'd never forgive him any more than I already refuse to forgive him now, at least. All in all, he's made excellent progress.
Already, he's clarified that you haven't run off to Brigid with you-know-who… and, well… that was always a fear of mine, even though that was stupid and immature of me – and Petra never deserved that, and clearly you never thought of her in that way.
Which means you must still be in the canyon then, is that not so?
Probably, you're just under a rock, relaxing, updating your diary on all the things that happened after we left Enbarr, right? …I may have sent Ladislava go back to your office to rummage through your desk there. I would go there myself, but I'm not sleeping in our bedroom there without you anymore.
Ladislava returned yesterday, actually – six days after I sent off Caspar to Hrym.
Imagine my surprise when she showed me that you had left another whole book behind!
I must admit to being rather shocked that you found the time…
Anyway, I read the first page. And then a bunch of pages after that, actually.
It IS literally all about us making love and I'm truly truly truly happy that it is…!
But, um Byleth… we were, – you know, finishing inside an awful lot – to use your description…
I told you that doing so was okay, of course – because it felt impossibly good and warm to feel you do that, and obviously… I recalled those words my Uncle had told me in the darkness, when he found me with that romantic novel that Hubert had snuck in at my request.
So… I thought it'd be okay if you did at first.
And, then… well, heh.. I must say that after seeing your "I finished inside" face when you did, and then seeing you collapse on top of me in an exhausted, worried heap… it was just… yes.
Naturally, I resolved that I'd never let you finish anywhere else anyway, because that was literally everything for me... and well, it really turned me on, and after the first time, we managed to finish together almost every single time after that, which based on Dorothea's descriptions of sex with men was actually totally impossible, too – but you and I actually did that! So much!
…And I'm sure you recall that we had a "taking responsibility" pillow-talk that I thought was just a way for me to see how committed you were again…. even though you made it clear you were actually very, very serious about us and me and everything a million times over to the point where you threw yourself in front of a literal dragon to save me a couple months ago, but…
At this moment, I might be…
No – there's no time for mights.
I need to confirm it.
"You've got this, El."
That's what you'd say.
Or maybe, that's what you'd say in every other scenario but this one, but still…
Lin will know what's happening with me, right?
I'm remembering what you said, My Byleth – he's the wisest person you ever met.
You were going to leave that diary that I love reading so much to him, after all.
Why aren't I the wisest person you ever met, by the way?
And why would you not leave that diary to me…?
Don't answer that – because I know how you'd answer. You'd just stand there with that blank expression… and maybe take me in your arms, and I'd totally forget why I was mad at you – and I wouldn't be opposed to you doing that right now, in fact.
Why did you always think I was always angry at you, though?
…I wasn't!
I was squinting so I could look behind your eyes and try to figure out what your emotions were.
But on St. Macuil's – all you wrote about was feeling this, and feeling that, and I knew it…
That you could feel and that you were hiding everything from me all the time.
But back then – I didn't know why, My Byleth.
I know now that the Nabateans left you with the worst of all curses.
…And that you were trying every day to break free of it.
When you come back, I'll be here for you. I promise. And I'll know you'll just shrug and get back to business as well, because that's why I fell head over heels for you in the first place. So I'm going to be very demanding and make you talk about your feelings all the time, and try to with-hold any romantic interludes until you either tell me and tell me everything, or I get too horny and then we have sex and I bully you into telling me afterward.
So… come back soon…
Because I'd like to have you here once I have to bear the full brunt of a five-nation army bearing down upon me.
This continent is at a knife's edge with war machines lurching forward like Rhea's golems, and this dance with Claude in Hrym is just the warm-up.
Still, I'm looking forward to some free time and here and there so I can go about reading your take on our days during the Garland Moon, in spite of all of the things that happened – and how stupid I was for listening to Hubert that afternoon of the 31st of Harpstring… and not telling you everything in Remire, when I had you alone.
But maybe I'm rather fine with it all now as well, because I love reading your thoughts there as you try to figure things out…
And did I really sound that cringey when I was introducing my dream to you?
I literally spent the ENTIRE NIGHT of the 29th coming up with that…
You were so sleepy in the wagon that I had to wait to tell you, actually… and to be truthful… while you were sleeping, I was running my hands through your hair again all night and you didn't even notice! You looked so foolish that afternoon when you gave us the lecture, and I was very self-assured about until that letter from your father came.
…But in retrospect, I'm also impossibly happy that your father intercepted that letter. So, I guess in my own way – I'm not lying when I say I don't regret anything at all, my Love. Especially the time I spent with you each and every day that you've recorded here in such excruciating detail.
Still, I was steeling myself back then, and… how foolish it reads sometimes knowing that you knew that, even if you couldn't quite grasp the reality behind it all. And my fear that you – so calm and comforting to me whenever I would be seized by that fear – would retreat from me if the intensity of my feelings for you were unrequited.
I couldn't have known that you spent all this time thinking about me and me alone. Why didn't you tell me?
And, so…
"Oh, Edelgard."
Linhardt says chipperly, reminding me that I've been standing in place for long enough for my old classmate to notice me from his workstation near what remains of the altar… which must mean that I totally lost track of time while thinking about you.
I'm losing myself a bit, clearly. Snapping myself back to reality, I say:
"Linhardt, I've finally found you." There. Now he'll never realize how spaced out I was.
"You look like you've been thinking about the Professor again." he replies with a raised eyebrow, seeing right through me.
Truly, I blame YOU for that, because you were always telling Linhardt how SPECIAL and BRILLIANT I was, and that if you died, Linhardt needed to extra aware of how I was feeling because he apparently has some sort of insight into me that I don't have (what does that even mean…?).
It was so invariably frustrating when you spoke like that – I had all I could do not to just grab you and pull you into the nearest enclosed space and put my hands all over you… and I especially knew that I needed you to stop talking to this very wonderful, very bisexual man about how wonderful I was – lest he and his boyfriend side against me when the day that my plan came to fruition. If he didn't, you being so gushy and complimentary all the time would make my enemies know all of my greatest weaknesses.
Also… no one had ever spoken that way about me to other people before, and it was making me melt and you realize everyone could see that, couldn't you? Caspar is STILL talking about my birthday.
And now he's gone and caught me again, as well.
"Well… given our location, I suppose it's hard not to – but you also looked rather contemplative." I manage, desperately fumbling around for that initiative you always think I possess in spades.
Linhardt – our sleepy sage, as you call him – then walks over to some slab of white marble nearby and begins to stroke the dust and rubble off its cover.
"I mean, how can one not be thinking in a place such as this? In a way, it makes me feel grateful that I've got the time to think down here, under these conditions. I certainly never would've discovered this much if the monastery was still in operation. Especially given that it's not even the first battle we've fought here... First, Our Professor claimed the sword of the Creator in this place. Then, we even killed his Mother here. Third, we fought Rhea here. I was here for all of that, you know. Not even Hubert can claim that!"
While I can't say I've ever had the occasion to really consider that… Lin's been around for it all, really. He even took the first kill in Zanado all those moons ago. As I ponder this, he continues:
"For example – take a look here – these sarcophagi were built more than a thousand years ago and still remain, even after all the fighting here that's happened recently. I never really had the time to get a close examination of them, however…"
Our mage beckons me over to look at them, and I want to give his monologue here the benefit of the doubt… but I can't really focus because I might be carrying our child inside me, Byleth. How can I focus on anything else at the moment?
"Most interestingly, there's a rather primitive-looking relief of each person entombed inside that's hewn into the stone. This one would appear to be your ancestor, Wilhelm the Great, and the dried blood and shards of glass from the broken vials here inside the tomb would indicate that the Archbishop was keeping Wilhelm in state, and using parts of his own blood to create her experiments, particularly the Professor's Mother, who was kept in a similar…"
Yes Linhardt, I know that uncomfortable piece of family history now. But it changes nothing and only solidifies an impression that I carry with me now so closely: the Nabateans are at the root of all evil in this world, particularly now that the so-called Goddess Sothis – who entrapped my ancestor in the snares of her body – also entrapped Byleth in a prison of his own mind.
The torture that was inflicted on my family was the crowning jewel of this savage, ruthless cycle that first began when that dragon fell from the stars. Everything starts from that disaster.
Now, it can only end when we've drained every last drop of blood from that monster who currently occupies Fhirdiad, doting over Dimitri and writing the preface for his insufferable, holier-than-thou manifesto that he just published in response to the one I wrote and you edited. I thought you gave it the best title in the whole world, and I'm glad you tightened up some of my run-on sentences. There are just so many things that I want to express at times, it's hard to categorize them all in sequence. But you always had a way to help with that, and I miss it!
Truthfully, you should know that he titled his manifesto "A Missive Against the Demon that Turned My Professor and Dear Friend Byleth" – and that he dedicated it to YOU, of all people. The same person he had Anette declare a war criminal.
Additionally, you were not his Professor!
But I suppose I must reply to Linhardt now, for both of us:
"P-perhaps another time. Right now, I have something to discuss with you… that's rather urgent to my health, in fact…" I stammer out, totally prepared, but unprepared.
Again, he does the thing that you often do and sees right through me, those cerulean eyes of his looking too smart for their own good! He blinks twice and asks:
"Ah – is this regarding the Professor's habit of painting your womb every night before he disappeared?"
So he wasn't always asleep for that… I thought the room arrangements we had in Morgaine when we were planning the Garegg Mach campaign would be good enough… I had everyone arranged like they were in the academy in my father's cottage – except for you and I. Naturally, Linhardt had the guest room next to the Master Bedroom.
"Q-Quiet down, Linhardt!" I yell, utterly embarrassed, and grow even more embarrassed when I realize that my voice carried out through the massive dragon-sized exit, and is now echoing out into the valley.
"Ugh... Let's be clear that I have my reservations about disclosing Hanneman's research that he left here without his permission… but I'm actually quite sure that such a thing is impossible."
"I am only asking because I've…"
"You've failed to menstruate recently, is that it?"
How do I even reply to that?
Linhardt replies for me, noting:
"...We're just short of two months from your last… evening spent with the Professor, if he did indeed leave us on the day of the Rite of Rebirth."
Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush.
Strolling back to his workstation, Lin grabs his cup of coffee and takes a long sip.
"Edelgard… I'm unsure you want to hear what I'm about to tell you. The other person certainly took it… well, it appeared to have stung her a bit."
Other person…? He doesn't mean...
"D-do you mean…?"
"Indeed. Lysithea and Felix approached me about this last week, in fact."
Whyever did you recruit that ANIMAL, My Teacher…?! She's only sixteen!
My lips part to blurt out a reply, but no words come out. Our closest thing to a resident medical professional then decides to pick up from there:
"I'm most grateful that Felix assured me that he had the discipline to practice the… withdrawal method – but I did mention that Professor Hanneman was granted access to certain… experiment records that the Archbishop conducted over the years… and it seems the Archbishop was also quite familiar with blood reconstruction."
That much I knew – the blood reconstruction part – the piece of trivia before that was literally the last thing I'd be grateful to know, which makes me wonder why Linhardt is so enthusiastic about that knowledge…
In any event, he lectures on:
"And… to put a rather blunt point on it, some of those individuals subjected to those studies may have attempted to bear children over the course of their shortened lives. I hope I am not being too on the-nose-here."
Is this what you felt like when I was trying to introduce a life-or-death topic, My Love? I want to strangle him, too.
"Well, I must insist that you be even more on-the-nose, truly."
The Heir to House Hevring with no interest in being an Heir, or maintaining House Hevring, looks at me for a long time, the oceans in his irises growing very still, as if he's settling on an analogy.
"I'm… failing to find an analogy that wouldn't seem a bit imprecise. In short – her subjects couldn't complete what they started."
I really can't take this for much longer, because being told all of these vagueries without you here to cut through Linhardt's genius-speak is going to make me hurl this crown at his head.
"In Fodlanese, Lin!"
And he pauses here, and it's not a good pause... as if he was struggling to bring out any further words from his lips. It's the kind of expression you made when you had to talk about your past. The things you had seen when fighting the Almyrans, or lies that your Father had told you. But Lin isn't going to lie. He's like you, and honest to a fault. So I brace myself, although I wonder if I have the resolve to even accept it now, because... it's like you said... we made each other weak, at times...
"Your crests would, er devour…abort, or I suppose… miscarry the fetus no later than the end of the first trimester. If that hasn't happened, it'll only be a matter of time, unfortunately."
As he says these words, a gale cuts through the remains of this tomb, and I feel more alone than the years I spent in the Dungeon under Arundel.
