Testament of Dawn

by Naryfiel Lilith

It should have been a simple year, a year like any other, but a chance encounter leads Byleth and her twin, Azrael, on a path neither ever expected to be on. A path that led to bonds stronger than fate itself. A path that would lead to a war of ideals. Fodlan's night of chaos and war ends with the dawning light, but will fate or bonds decide who bears witness? (3H Novelization)

5. Chapter 4) Team

Chapter 4) Team

---

As the days go by, I feel like I'm simply getting more and more over my head. Why didn't the church pick some other way to hold me hostage? Did they want the students in my cohort to die? Or, at least, be not as well trained? Why make me a teacher of all things? Actually, why didn't they make me a knight? They could've alternated between Azrael and me… no, they couldn't. It would stand out because of all the missions Seteth mentioned. The large number of missions that meant my students would be sent out to real battle, with only the 'mock battle' as their 'experience'.

I'd never really prayed before. I didn't know who to pray to. But maybe I ought to try and see who happens to hear.

---

Surprisingly, the infirmary was empty. I would've thought that there would be more people, given what normally happened when you gave teenagers access to weapons. And gave them free reign. But, no, no one swung by. Made it a surprisingly nice place to sit and drink tea while working on lesson plans.

"Hmm? Ah, most of the scrapes and bruises are tended to by those who wish to specialize in healing magic, dear," Manuela explained when I mumbled my surprise aloud. She chuckled and served me some more tea. And more of these 'tea cake' things that were surprisingly good. "They also can get super embarrassed about how they got injuries. Somehow they think that their injury will be the most embarrassing way someone has been injured around here."

"Dad once said something about how there isn't a mistake you can make that someone else hasn't done before," I mumbled around the cake. Bad manners? Probably. Did I care? Nope. It was good. "Might have been a while, but someone has done it by this point."

"Quite true. But I was more talking about how some of these injuries seem to come about when they're being… imaginative while they get frisky." She muffled a laugh, and I seriously wondered how well designed these walls were. I wouldn't think they were that thick. "How is your planning going?"

"It's going." Sort of. It was more that I had so many ideas that they bounced together both in my skull and across the paper. "How legible things are is another question entirely."

"Surely it's not that bad." Manuela looked over my shoulder and just gaped at my papers for a good five seconds. "...Well."

"I warned you." I often wrote as quickly as I thought, and that meant scrawling words. "I'm in the middle of re-copying, without the things I lined out." And since I'd go slower, it would be neater. In theory. "Then I'll cross things out again." Messy and neat, messy and neat. It was like my healing, but with ink instead of blood.

"And get ink all over your hands." Manuela clicked her tongue and briefly disappeared into the back for something. She returned with a small bowl of water and a cloth. "And into the beds of your nails." She gently, but firmly, took my hand and began washing the ink off. I didn't see the point in doing so, since I was just going to get more on them. "Your nails are chipped… when we have a little more time, we need to give you a manicure." Um… why? Why did we need to do that? They'd just break again. "Did I give you those lotions, by the way? For your skin?"

"I haven't used any yet."

"You need to, every night before bed."

"...Very well." I was tempted to ask if this was 'before' or 'after' I woke from nightmares, but decided against it. Just going to nod and move on. It wasn't like she'd know if I listened or… actually no, she was a physician. I'd better do as she said or who knows what would happen whenever I next needed to get patched up?

"What in the world are you talking about, Manuela?" Hanneman asked, walking in then. I wondered what dragged him out of his research. He'd seem to be in deep concentration when I checked in on him earlier. "I thought you were helping our colleague." Manuela's only response was to sigh gustily, and pointedly not answer. Just finish cleaning my hands. "Is it not rude to sigh at someone the moment you see them enter a room?"

"Hanneman, is it not rude to tell others how to behave?" she fired back with a scowl. Done cleaning my hands, she tossed the soiled cloth into a basket in the corner and moved the bowl of water away from my notes. "Besides, I could be sighing over any number of things that have nothing to do with you at all. Vastly more interesting things, at that."

"Goodness, you're unusually irritable today. Did your hangover medicine not work or did you forget to take it again?" Hanneman tried to act more dignified, but I felt like I was suddenly in the middle of a pair of siblings playing tug-of-war over a toy neither wanted to share. "Don't you imagine your attitude is a bit excessive? You snap at every little thing, your ill mood on display for all. It saddens me to see such behavior from one who must set a good example."

"Well, listen to the noble lecturing the lowly commoner!" Manuela scoffed, rolling her eyes. I had to 'poke' Sothis to see if she understood why that had anything to do with anything. Sothis was just as confused as I was, but was terribly amused by it all. "My apologies. I meant to say former noble." And why did that had anything to do with anything? "Leave me alone and go pester someone else!"

"Or you two could stop acting like three-year-olds intent on throwing barbs at each other for the sake of throwing barbs?" I 'suggested', not sure what else to do. Almost immediately, both looked contrite. "Perhaps you can even help me? Classes start tomorrow, and I'm… well…" I gestured at the notes scattered across the table. "At this rate, I'm simply going to be giving them a lesson on how to not teach people."

"I doubt you will be that bad," Hanneman instantly reassured. He was at my side in an instance, reading my notes. Unlike Manuela, he made no comment on the legibility. "I remember how nervous I was before my first class. What are you planning? Just focus on the first day for now."

"Well, that's part of the problem. What would be good to start with?"

"Ah, in that case, what are you considering?"

"That is… this mess." I pulled one particularly messy piece of paper towards me. I was still recopying things. "If you'll give me a moment…"

"Hmm… since you'll be fighting relatively soon, the tactics would be very good for the first day." And apparently, Hanneman could read it. Manuela hid her shock by carrying the bowl of water to the back. "I'll admit to being partial to spell theories. Will you demonstrate them first?"

"I actually can't." I felt like squirming. Demonstrations would be very good for them, particularly those who learned by example, but… "My magic is strange."

"Is it?" Hanneman's eyes sparkled for a moment, but then he closed his eyes. "Nope, must refrain from questions. We're helping you." Questions? ...Oh, probably for his crest research… "If that's the case, Manuela and I can demonstrate for anyone who needs it."

"Thank you…"

"What did you volunteer me for, old man?" Manuela asked, returning to the room. She ignored Hanneman's sputtering to look at my notes. And sigh after a few moments of trying to read them. "I'm normally pretty good at deciphering messy handwriting, but there's too many things crossed out and wrapped around. Part of why I'm bad with Reason magic, since so many of those formulas go every which way."

"I suppose it has nothing to do with how flighty you can be?" Hanneman 'asked' dryly. I wondered if this was what 'sibling rivalries' truly were like, and if that was the case, I was glad Azrael and I never had any. "Particularly the flights of fancy you are prone to?"

"At least I'm not grounded because of an iron rod shoved up my-"

"Manuela." Thankfully for the sake of my rapidly deteriorating nerves, Seteth walked in to provide a distraction. At least, I was thankful until I saw his smile, which politely said 'I wish I could strangle you'. "A word?" he prompted. Amusingly, Hanneman ducked behind me and busied himself with peering at the documents Seteth carried. Manuela, meanwhile, looked ready to flee. Except Seteth blocked the only exit. "I would like to hear an explanation."

"For… what?" Manuela asked, regaining her composure. She even smiled flirtatiously. Just a little. "You'll have to be more specific."

"Ah, yes, I suppose so." The 'smile' disappeared for a scowl. "Where were you and what were you doing last night?" I had a bad feeling suddenly.

"Oh, my dear Seteth, you must relax that furrowed brow of yours!" Manuela clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Those lines will wrinkle horribly and ruin your good looks."

"If only that were true, then maybe you wouldn't pretend to be coy. Alas, based on my mother, I highly doubt I'll worry about wrinkles for a very long while." He was about a step or two away from outright glaring. Manuela muttered something about him being a 'lucky bastard'. And Sothis longingly wished for something to snack on while watching the 'show'. "Just answer the question, please."

"Which question? The one you already know the answer to?" Manuela sighed, shrugging. "I had a little bit of fun and a little bit to drink. Less of one and more of the other. I don't see-"

"What do you not see? That you are an adult who is tasked with the supervision of children who should not be causing trouble for them?" Wow, Seteth's voice could get as dry as Sothis's. That was impressive. "What you do in your free time is not my concern, but it is unacceptable for you to expose your students to your disgraceful behavior. Even more so to impose on them the labor of cleaning up your mess."

"Oh, don't oversell it." Manuela rolled her eyes. "They just walked me to my room."

"From what I hear, you had to be carried."

"I'd like to think I'd remember that."

"Well, when Azrael returns from his patrol, I'm certain he would be delighted to refresh your memory. As he was the one who carried you, before informing me of what occured out of concern that you would choke on your own vomit in your sleep. His words, by the way. I won't say the rest." Probably had something to do with the smell. Azrael hated the smell of alcohol, almost as much as he hated the taste. And I must've been fast asleep when all this happened since I didn't know about it yet. Though, I was surprised it hadn't come up during breakfast. Maybe he'd forgotten? "But I'm sure he will repeat them with or without prompting." I hoped Manuela didn't take it for a bluff? Because with a prompt, Azrael would definitely repeat it. And add to it. "To have a Knight of Seiros… Hanneman, can you stop drooling? It's distracting and off-putting."

"I am not drooling," Hanneman protested. Half-heartedly, without any heat but lots of absent distraction. "But my word, those documents…" Hanneman's eyes sparkled as he 'subtly' continued studying the stack of papers Seteth carried. "Why, those are on Crests!" How in creation could he tell? They just looked like squiggles to me. "Seteth, have you finally decided to cooperate with my research?"

"No." Seteth's answer was straight and to the point. So much of a point that Hanneman's enthusiasm immediately deflated. "For sixteen years, I have refused your requests, and I have no intentions on changing my mind," he continued, just as bluntly as before. He held the papers out, though, almost like how you'd hold out a treat for a dog. "But, if you stop badgering me, I'll lend these to you."

"Mmm…" Hanneman was tempted. It was easy to tell. But eventually, he shook his head. Manuela, meanwhile, seized her opportunity to escape, into the back. And maybe out a window if she could manage it. "Valuable as those documents are, your cooperation would be more so. After all, the Major Crest of Cichol is rare. So rare that I do not believe there has been documentation of another who bore it. That leads to many, many questions of your lineage and the secrets there." That didn't seem like it was anyone's business, though…?

"And I have told you, time and again, that there is nothing of note." Seteth's expression grew more and more droll. But I thought I saw a bit of pain, and a bit of fear, hiding in his eyes. I wondered if I was imagining it, but Sothis confirmed that she thought the same. This just made me all the more uncomfortable. "I wasn't born to a noble house of any kind, nor are there records of my lineage. You are wasting your time, and I doubt any answers from my lineage would satisfy you."

"That is for me to decide, and me alone." Hanneman chuckled. "Besides, even the confirmation would be a valuable discovery. Such is the way of research."

"I wouldn't know. I am no scholar. Simply an administrator." Translation: bureaucrat. "What are you two doing anyway? It normally takes bribes to get the two of you in the same place."

"They're helping me," I answered, pointing to all my notes for emphasis. Seteth immediately became intrigued and picked up one of the farther ones to skim. Thankfully, it was one of the neater ones. "A good bit is just getting my thoughts in some coherent form, and I don't exactly have the neatest handwriting…"

"Looks like quite the range of topics," Seteth noted. He set the documents down (pointedly away from Hanneman) and continued looking over the paper. When he finished, he picked up another one. Messier, but still legible. "Quite the range. I'm not sure we've taught some of these before."

"I'm really just thinking of anything and everything that helped me survive battles as a mercenary." I paused as I remembered one particularly gruesome way I'd survived: pinned by a corpse and mistaken for dead. The corpse had their chest ripped open, and I could remember how squishy… "Mostly."

"I imagine the more visceral things will be left to battles, if they are to be 'taught' at all." He smiled sardonically, and I wondered if he too had survived through means most would be sick over. "Well, I know a thing or two of battle, so while I am not a teacher, perhaps I can assist with prioritizing topics." And the darkness in his eyes shrouded experience that screamed he knew more than 'a thing or two'. I'd seen a similar look in Dad's eyes, after a particularly bad nightmare. "As an apology for the disruption."

"I will gladly take all the help I can get. I need it. If someone can get Manuela? Please?"

Maybe I'll be able to pretend I knew what I was doing after all.

---

It occurred to me, while the four of us slowly made a coherent lesson plan for me, that I had yet to act on the thoughts I'd had about knights and practice and the like. My first thought had been to go to Dad about the idea, but he was doing a patrol, so I went to the next knight I could think of: Alois. Which turned out to be a good thing for another reason entirely. Alois had the opportunity to go home to visit his wife and daughter recently and he brought back some of the things he'd saved after Dad's disappearance.

"A mock-battle with some of the younger knights and your cohort sounds like an excellent idea!" Alois boomed, laughing. I thought the noise had knocked some dust down from the ceiling, but I didn't comment. I was too busy going through the carefully packed boxes. Removing things and setting them beside me on the floor so that I could look at them more closely in a second. "They've been in battles as squires, but they're not used to working together, so it'll be good for both."

"I'm glad to hear that," I murmured, pulling out a beautiful lace shawl, dyed with faint pinks and oranges to almost resemble a setting sun. This… this had to have been Mom's… "Thank you. I really appreciate the help."

"I'm glad to assist! After all, we're family! Or as close as I've got!" He chuckled, but tilted his head like a puppy when he saw me staring. "Hmm? Did I not mention it? I was raised by Jeralt, more or less."

"You were?" I wondered if I'd just missed that conversation, but Sothis was confused too.

"Ah, so I did forget! What a gaffe that is! Must've been confusing why I dote on you and Azrael so much!" That described about ninety percent of the brief interactions I'd had with the knights around here. But he was the one who checked on me the most. And Azrael had mentioned during one breakfast how Alois kept an eye on him in particular; Dad hadn't been surprised at all. "My parents died when I was small, and I was moved about all over the place. Aimless existence, really. At one point, I ended up here in the monastery. Highlight of my day was seeing the knights march out. And Captain Jeralt held everyone's attention."

"Really?"

"Of course! Marching out to protect the people while wearing armor that glittered of silver and white… a god of war descended from on high, they called him. Proof of the Goddess's protection, and Seiros's blessing on us." That all sounded like propaganda to me, and nothing like the Dad I knew. I liked the one I knew better. "One day, as he was returning from a mission, he happened to lay eyes on me, and he decided to make me his squire! Just like that!" Alois chuckled, clearly fond of the memory. "What was he thinking, eh? Not the last time I questioned his sanity."

"That… is a bit odd." Mostly because I knew from Richard and Sera that there were normally tests you had to pass to be a squire unless you could prove you had prior training. Then again, Dad's rank probably meant he could pull some strings. "Did you ask?"

"Of course! After all, I wasn't even old enough to be a squire officially at the time. Still remember it well, despite it being over thirty years ago." Thirty years, huh? A decade before Azrael and I were born then. "He'd had a squire prior to me, who died from a plague that raced through a few months earlier. I looked a bit like him, and was the same age. So, he thought me a suitable replacement, so to speak."

"...Oh." Oh, I knew what had happened then. At least, I thought I knew. Dad had once mentioned that sometimes, you saw the same people, the same auras and spirits, in different faces. And when that happened, that was life giving you a second chance to do what you wished you had done. Though Dad couldn't have stopped a plague, he would've felt guilty about his squire dying from it. But if he saw that squire in Alois… then he would've seen it as a 'second chance' to do right by him. "Sounds like Dad."

"Hmm… that looks says you know the reason behind the insanity." Alois smiled, laughing warmly. "No, don't tell. I always just thought it as one of the ways he was a little nutty. After all, I learned quickly that Captain Jeralt wasn't as put together off the battlefield as he was on it!"

"No, he's not." I had to duck my head to hide my faint smile, and busied myself by looking through the boxes again. "We always had to pack the night before we left on any job because inevitably, he'd forget where he left his boots if we tried to pack the morning of. There was also a time where he had been cooking us stew before getting distracted by a star shower. I think he nearly burned the forest that day, to say nothing of the stew."

"Sounds exactly like him!" Alois's laughter bounced about the walls and filled the room with warmth much like the sun. "It was one of the many things I liked about him, though. It helped ground him. And made the lessons stick." He nodded to the shawl I still held. "Lady Fiona wore that during the ball the academy holds during the Ethereal Moon. It was a gift from the Archbishop."

"Well, I figured it wasn't Dad's." Ball? What ball was he talking about? "Still, it's beautiful…"

"Captain Jeralt said that you and Azrael should pick out what you want. Technically, it's part of your inheritance."

"Really?" I mentally debated for a long moment before draping it over my shoulders. For a brief second, I thought I caught a faint floral smell, sweet and gentle. But it was gone before I could try to identify it. So, I focused on something else. "It's warm."

"It looks good on you." Alois smiled, and there was something bittersweet to it. He had to be remembering Mom. "You should definitely keep it."

"...I think I will." I carefully folded it and tucked it into my lap before looking through some of the other things. Some jewelry, a few other dresses… but my attention immediately went to the books. Particularly the one with a noticeable scorch mark on the back cover. "Did you dive into the flames to rescue these?"

"No, thankfully, I didn't need to." The way he said it implied he would've. "Lady Fiona had their quarters warded against fire after she learned she was pregnant. So, most everything survived the fire."

"Why did she ward it?"

"Captain Jeralt worked late, which meant candles. Babies are very curious." Alois chuckled, but his eyes were distant. Remembering. "Lady Fiona was always a bit of a worrier, and that only increased with her pregnancy. Captain Jeralt tended to indulge her, thinking it a small price to pay to ease her heart."

"I see." I carefully opened the book, wondering if ash might fall out. But aside from the scorch mark, there was no sign of flames on it. Or on any of the items, actually. "How did it happen? That fire?"

"No one knows. There was…" He trailed off, grimacing a little in pain. I waited, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts. "After Lady Fiona died, there was a lot of rain. So, we were all pretty excited when the rain finally cleared up a couple of weeks later. It gave us more to do than sit around and mourn, plus… well, quite a few of us were eager to pick flowers for the grave."

"I imagine the rain didn't help with your mood, did it?"

"Truthfully, I was running around too much to worry about my mood. Captain Jeralt…" This time, he outright winced. "Lady Fiona's death broke him. I knew it then, but I understand it now, after I fell in love and married. If not for you and Azrael, I think we would've had two funerals, not one." Dad… I could believe it. Dad mourned her even after twenty years, after all. He carried their wedding rings in a pouch he always kept in his pocket. "He did his best, but it was clear his mind was all over the place. He particularly worried over you, since you were so quiet."

"I was quiet as a baby, huh?" I wasn't sure why I commented. I already knew that. I was a baby who neither cried nor laughed. I still hadn't, actually. "What does this have to do with the fire?"

"I'm getting to it, promise." He slightly sheepish smile hinted that he had gone on a bit of a ramble, though. "Point is that I was running things for him, alongside a couple of the other knights. And there were times when Captain Jeralt would start his day, and seem okay, but then…"

"But then he wasn't, and hadn't really been."

"Yes. That day had been one of those days." Alois closed his eyes, lost in the memory. "We had been running drills in the training grounds. But after a while, Captain asked if I'd be willing to oversee while he left to check on you two. I agreed, of course. Training paused for a bit while some of us volunteered to go with him, to help, but he reassured us that all was well. He just needed to see you two."

"I take it we were in his rooms?"

"Normally, you two actually were with him. Practically didn't even need a cradle for the two of you, given the number of people willing to carry you two about. But, that day, Captain Jeralt said you two were napping too peacefully to wake up. And with almost everyone checking in, no one thought anything of leaving you two to nap. Well, until Captain Jeralt… anyway, he went to see you two. See with his own eyes that his reasons for living were still here." When Alois opened his eyes, they were terribly dark with old, quiet pain. "The first indication we had that something was wrong was the smoke. A thin trail of smoke curling up into the bright blue sky, almost too faint to see. Then you heard the screams and panic. People shouting for a water brigade, others trying to figure out if anyone might be inside…"

"So, it was in the dormitories?"

"Hard to say where it started, Byleth. By the time the fire was put out, most everything on that half of the monastery had been destroyed." ...That entire half? "The Knights' Hall was completely burned down. The stables caught fire, which caused its own ruckus because the horses escaped and panicked. No one knows if the stable doors had been opened or if the horses kicked them down because there wasn't enough left to piece anything together. Part of the main building and dining hall went up as well."

"...So, it destroyed half of the monastery?" I found myself clutching the shawl, feeling strangely cold all of a sudden. "Really?"

"What parts weren't stone, yes. Well, stone or warded. Captain's quarters were on the first floor, so it survived more or less completely intact." He nodded to the scorch mark on the book I held. "That one was damaged because a burning piece of wood fell on it from the ceiling. The wards put the fire out before it could turn to ash." I clearly needed to look more into these wards. Were they how they managed to make sure no one's spells killed people during the mock-battle?

"How many died?"

"Thankfully, those areas don't have many people at that hour. Well, the main building and dining hall did, but they had plenty of warning. No deaths, only some injured." Alois heaved a sigh, shaking his head. "It's because of that, though, that the fire wasn't caught before it went completely out of control."

"So, why did people assume…?"

"People remembered Captain Jeralt walking into the knight's dormitories, and others remembered seeing him by a third floor window with you two, probably to look at the view. And there was no sign of you three at all in the wreckage." His gaze wavered and he looked down, like he was hiding, or holding back, tears. "Not a one. We looked all over, hunting for any traces, but there was nothing."

"I see." The lack of 'traces' didn't surprise me. Dad knew how to walk just about anywhere without disturbing the land. He taught Azrael and me. "Are you mad?"

"At what? Captain Jeralt? Of course not." He shrugged and smiled. And I saw nothing but warmth and trust in that smile. "Who knows what happened that day? I certainly don't. Maybe Captain Jeralt just needed to leave, to get away from the reminders. Maybe while escaping, one of you were hurt and he went to a village for help. Maybe there wasn't a reason at all, just pain and panic. Regardless of why, I don't really care. You three are alive, and happy. Captain Jeralt smiles again, and both you and Azrael have grown up well." His smile softened, and I could tell that he truly meant these words. Truly and absolutely. "If he wishes to explain, I'll listen. But that's his decision."

"I see." I smiled faintly, touched and… well, somehow, unsurprised. Maybe it's because he said that Dad raised him. Distance between family didn't necessarily lessen the affections and trust. Azrael and I knew that from the times when Dad left on mercenary jobs. "I'm sorry to bring up bad memories."

"Well, they're a bit easier to remember nowadays." He laughed, though, the sound chasing away any lingering pain. "I'm tickled that I was right about you three being alive, though."

"You were indeed." I looked to the boxes of things that he had kept. He had kept them for twenty years, just out of that belief and hope. Even if Alois didn't think Dad needed to explain, I hoped he would. Or at least find some way to make it up to him.

Not sure what to say or do, I decided to simply go back to sifting through the box and pulling things out. I picked up a lovely dress and almost unfolded it to study. But something underneath firmly held my attention: a picture. When I picked it up, I saw it was a portrait, actually. A portrait of Dad, wearing silver armor I had never seen, laughing about something as he gave the other person a small bouquet of flowers. The other person was a woman smiling brightly, face a little pink, and she was halfway to take the flowers in the picture, her hands on his, with a ring I knew well sparkling in the very center of the picture. Dad carried that ring everywhere, along with his own matching ring… which meant the woman here had to be…

"That's Lady Fiona," Aloids murmured, careful to not startle me. He smiled softly at the picture, laughing. "Every time Captain Jeralt left for a mission, he made sure to bring her back flowers. One of the more artistic knights made a sketch and commissioned this for their first anniversary."

"I see…" I whispered, unable to say more. Dad had commented a couple of times that Azrael and I took after Mom in looks. And I had certainly heard many compare me to her since I arrived here. But this was actually the first time I had 'seen' her. And it was the first time I'd 'seen' Dad in 'proper armor', though I did notice that he otherwise looked exactly the same. Like he hadn't aged at all. "When was this…? You said their first anniversary, but…"

"I think it was about a year before you and Azrael were born."

"Oh." Which meant this was Mom when she was my age. Mom just before she died. Mom before we killed her… "Can I keep this?"

"I think I've said this before, but you may keep anything you wish. After all, they're already yours." Alois chuckled. "I've just been keeping them safe."

"Thank you…" I studied it a second longer before carefully wrapping it in the shawl. Then I went back to the box, looking through again. "Can you tell me more about Mom?"

"I certainly can."

Alois told me all sorts of stories while we continued shifting through everything. Funny ones, sweet ones… each one clearly a precious memory that Alois was glad to have. He even had stories about some of the items, like how Mom had gotten them or something funny that happened because of them. I think I ended keeping a lot of the items, though. The thought of having things of Mom's was just too tempting.

---

No matter how much I wished otherwise, classes did eventually have to start. I had to force myself to eat breakfast because nerves had my stomach twisted into a bow. Dad and Azrael did their best to reassure me, and if I hadn't insisted otherwise, I knew Azrael would've ignored everything to be there with me. But I had to at least try to do this on my own. They wouldn't always be able to help me, after all.

I made it through the walk to the classroom by pretending it was just another job. After all, instead of being paid to kill people directly, I was being paid to teach others how to kill people. Strangely (not really), it wasn't very reassuring. Actually, it made me nauseous. And I felt like I was on fire thanks to the battle-fever that pulsed through me. It was hard to pull tables around and set up everything because I just wanted to hide in my room. But thanks to Sothis reassuring and cajoling me, I managed to finish before my students filed in, and none of them looked worried when they did. A bit confused, perhaps, but not worried.

"So, we're splitting into two groups," I explained, crossing my arms and leaning against the desk. My legs felt shaky. "Half of you will be studying spell theory, while the other half will be going through some tactical problems I devised. We'll switch off at about the halfway point. So, decide which one you'd like to do first." I probably should've divided them myself, but that required more interactions and leading than I currently felt comfortable with. "And try to keep the halves even, please."

It took them a moment to realize I was serious, but once they did, they did slowly divide themselves up. And then those who chose spell theory picked between Faith or Reason, though I insisted that Linhardt, Marianne, and Mercedes study Reason magic until they mastered one basic spell. Well, that and the twelve who chose tactics first split into three groups of four. I could tell by their confusion that the previous teacher didn't leave things so free-form, and I felt uncomfortable by how obvious it had to be that I had no idea how to go about any of this. Still, no one complained. Or, well, complained about the lessons, at least. Petra did have one complaint, though she tried to keep quiet about it. But the others in her tactics group noticed anyway.

"Petra, you okay?" Sylvain asked at some point during the class, stopping Caspar in the middle of a sentence to study her. Though she tried to hide it, she was definitely shivering. I immediately ducked behind the desk to the pile of items I'd brought just in case. "Are you ill?"

"No, I am well," Petra reassured. She smiled ruefully, and rubbed her hands together to try and warm them. "Brigid has much more warmth than Fodlan. Even spring here has coolness. I fear I have not grown used to it. Are you not cold?"

"Gautier lands are the northernmost lands of the Kingdom, so if anything, I'm actually little warm. Felix is the same, since Fraldarius territory isn't that much farther south." Sylvain grinned and stepped around the table to stand next to her. After silently asking, he took Petra's hands to massage them for her. Get the blood flowing. "So, in a few months, you can laugh at us dying in the heat."

"And you're definitely not using this as an excuse to flirt with her," Lysithea deadpanned with narrowed eyes. She looked unimpressed, even as she and Caspar tried to focus on the tactics problem on the table in front of them. "At all."

"For once, I'm not," Sylvain protested, laughing. Caspar tilted his head in confusion, frowning over something. "You may ask any Kingdom-born student, but we'll massage our hands and feet during the winter to help keep blood flowing to them. Lest the fey of ice sneak up to poison them."

"...Fey of ice?"

"Ingrid tells it much better, but it's an old explanation for frostbite. If you're not careful, it'll rot your limbs off."

"Rot them off?!" Caspar yelped. By this point, I finally found what I'd been looking for and moved over to the group. "No way!" Caspar saw me approach and focused on me. "Sylvain is just pulling our legs, right? About the rotting thing?"

"No, he's not," I answered draping a blanket over Petra. It was one of the ones that Chloe had made me, and I'd brought a couple because I'd had no idea how cold or warm the room might be. "There's generally three stages of frostbite, or that's how I learned at least. The first, sometimes called 'frostnip', is when your skin is irritated, but not damaged. Redness and possibly some pain. The second stage is superficial, but damage has definitely been done. The skin can appear red or waxy, and fluid-filled blisters can show up during the healing process. The third stage is where gangrene sets in."

"Er… that's…"

"We'll talk more about it when we discuss first aid." I focused on Petra, who had somehow burrowed under the blanket despite remaining standing. "Is that better?"

"Oh, this has much warmness…" Petra breathed, snuggling even deeper under the blanket. Sylvain teasingly pulled part of it over her head like a hood. "Much warmness… you have my thanks, Professor." I was just glad I'd thought to bring one.

"That's a really pretty design, Professor," Annette commented, peering at it from the next table over. She almost bumped said table, but Dimitri stopped her in time. Good thing, too, since she would've hit a corner. "Where did you get it?"

"It's a gift from Chloe," I answered without thinking as I walked over to see how their group was doing. Because if I had thought, then I would've known the name meant nothing to her. At all. "Ah, she's from Remire. Her daughter, Madeline, is my best friend." My only friend, but I wouldn't say that aloud. "Annabelle, another person from Remire, thought some handmade things would help Azrael and I feel more comfortable here."

"That's so sweet!"

"They're very kind, yes." I thought of something and looked to Dimitri. "Madeline is the girl who dragged you three heirs off after the battle with the bandits. For a change of clothes and baths and the like."

"Oh, yes, I remember her," Dimitri replied, smiling. He glanced briefly at Ferdinand and Lorenz, who were discussing something quietly on the other side of their table before fully focusing on me. "She was also the first resident we came across."

"Oh, right, the girl whose reaction to three strangers running from bandits was 'goodness, you must have been frightened!'," Claude drawled, pitching his voice up to a falsetto to imitate Madeline. His spell theory notes were scattered in front of him, mixed with Hilda's. "I think we repeated the warning a few times, not sure if we were speaking properly."

"Then she said something about 'Oh, we have some mercenaries living here, so you can relax because they are very strong and skilled'." Dimitri chuckled at the memory. I felt embarrassed by the indirect praise. "I believe that was when we heard the girl scream. I wonder how she's doing…"

"Nicole is recovering well, with the only lingering thing being a reluctance to go anywhere alone," I answered. Dimitri's smile softened in relief. "I made sure to ask Madeline when she visited." Somewhere in between the teasing, of course.

"Wait, she visited?" Edelgard asked. She paused in writing her own notes on spell theory, and her attempts at keeping Linhardt awake, to look at me. "Drat. I still need to return those clothes I borrowed."

"Some knights patrol there regularly now. You could give them to them."

"I'd rather do it myself, truthfully." Edelgard glanced at Dimitri (across the room) and Claude (the table next to her). "Have either of you returned the clothes?" Both shook their heads. "We really should do that…"

"...Well, Madeline mentioned coming to visit next month."

"Actually, would it be possible for us to visit?" Leonie surprisingly asked. Surprising for a number of reasons. Not the least the fact that she'd been nearly pulling her hair out over a spell formula and almost elbowing poor Marianne in the face. I wouldn't have thought she was paying any attention. "Captain Jeralt talked a little about it and it sounded like a nice place."

"It really is!" Claude confirmed, laughing. I noticed he wasn't working on his notes, and Hilda was far more interested in her nails. "Nice and friendly… great place!"

"So, can we?"

"I'll… look into it," I said after a moment. Hadn't expected that at all. "For now, Leonie, do you want some help?"

Leonie did, in fact, want some help. Turned out her main problem had been two pages stuck together, which was thankfully easy to 'fix'. From there, I walked around the room, assisting where needed. Or interrupting arguments, as was the case between Hubert and Ingrid. Hubert's pragmatism conflicted harshly with Ingrid's deep-set beliefs of chivalry and honor. Meaning poor Raphael and Ignatz had to deal with them shooting sharp barbs at each other while just trying to do the assignment.

"Might I cut in?" I asked, doing my best to keep calm. Sothis thought I should snap at them both, and I could understand why. This was the fourth time I had to interrupt. "Again?"

"My apologies, Professor," Hubert muttered. He didn't sound apologetic at all. Ingrid, at least, had the grace to look sheepish. "It is simply-"

"The same thing as before, yes? And the previous three times? I believe everyone in the room can recite your arguments by this point. Except perhaps Ignatz and Raphael, who are trying to actually get something done." And still were. So, I thought a bit of how to go about this before choosing one. "I hope you two are aware that if this were a true battle scenario, you would have been overrun by now."

"If this were a true battle scenario, I would have simply gone ahead."

"So, you would utilize your army's limited resources on your own, without the knowledge of anyone else, under the assumption that you alone are correct? That's rather arrogant, is it not? For one thing, it assumes you have all the information." I took a glance at the 'field', trying to remember what scenario this was. It only took me a moment. "Ah, I remember this battle. Terribly bloody. The river ended up dammed because of the bodies in the end."

"This is based on a battle you fought, Professor?"

"All three are. I thought they would be better teaching tools." Even if it made me sick remembering them… "Regardless, during this battle, our leader ordered a strike to the leader. Basic enough strategy. Cut the head, and let the rest rot."

"Seems reasonable." He glanced at Ingrid, who nodded reluctantly. She hated agreeing with him, but it was a common enough strategy. "Did someone's honor prevent them from going through with it?"

"We learned that the 'leader' was a decoy. A teenaged boy trussed up, gagged, and shoved into fancy armor." Azrael had been the one to kill him. I had helped. It had been a few years, but I still clearly remembered the boy's wide-eyed stare of horror as Azrael sliced his head off. The tears of fear that had joined the blood. The slow, terrible realization of what just happened, even before we had noticed the gag that muffled his screams. "More than that, though… it had been our leader's son." And I still remembered his scream. It was the scream of someone who'd had their heart ripped out. I never wanted to hear a scream like that again. Never. "He was known for pragmatic tactics. Quick, surgical strikes. And our enemy at that time had turned it against him."

"...If you had done something more chivalric, such as fighting on equal terms, then someone would have noticed something wrong with the leader, wouldn't they?" Ingrid asked softly. By now, almost everyone was looking towards us, though most tried to be subtly about it. And failed miserably. Sneaking lessons were definitely going to be a thing. "Because it would've given you the time to notice."

"That is indeed possible, since soldiers aren't necessarily good actors," I agreed. There were many, many 'what ifs' involving battles. Always. "That didn't lead to the bodies damming up the river, though. That was because since the leader was known for pragmatism, the enemy fought to the last fighter. He was known for schemes, and so, they didn't trust anyone's word when we promised safety if they surrendered." Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Claude stiffen. But it was hard to tell. "So, in the end, the pragmatic approach ended up costing many more lives."

"I see." Ingrid smiled smugly; Hubert looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. "So-"

"With that said, there are times where keeping to honor will only doom your own people to death or worse. And, trust me, there is always worse." I crossed my arms and looked them both in the eye. "If someone chooses personally to die for their honor, that is their own choice. But if your honor causes the death of those under your protection, that is another thing entirely. A leader must be flexible, for the sake of their soldiers. Which one is best depends highly on the situation. And it is impossible to determine which is best for them if you simply argue in circles. Have the two of you even explained why you believe your method is best?"

"They haven't," Raphael answered for them. He smiled cheerfully, even if the words sounded like daggers to the ego. "Ignatz and I have been trying to figure it out, but… uh…"

"Then that is what you four should be doing now," I suggested, focusing on Ignatz for a moment since he remained quiet. He smiled wanly, nervous about something. "Talk amongst yourselves, explain your ideas. You'd be surprised what you learn through cooperation."

"Yeah, like what Ignatz just suggested! I think it's a nice idea, at least."

Poor Ignatz immediately protested, stammering and blushing about it not being 'all that great' of an idea. I lingered a little just to make sure Ingrid and Hubert didn't start arguing again, before continuing my rounds around the room. I probably should've just sat down or something, but I was too nervous to do that. Sothis kept trying to calm me down, but I was feeling more and more nauseous by the second. It didn't help that this was probably the longest I'd dealt with a group of strangers… ever. Or, well, except for battles. And maybe there were other times, but it was hard to think...

"Ouch!" Hilda all of a sudden yelped. I whirled, and imagined all sorts of scenarios, especially when I heard a blade clatter to the ground. But no one else was panicking-panicking. They just looked worried. And Hilda herself didn't look dead or dying. She just cradled her hand against her chest, glaring at the quill in front of her. "Ugh, I hate having to sharpen quills…" she grumbled. As I walked-ran over, Claude leaned down to pick up a small knife. "Sorry, Professor, but I think I cut myself a bit."

"We should work on your grip to keep it from slipping," I murmured, reaching out to touch Hilda's arm. I sent a pulse of healing magic to check the damage, but it didn't find anything. At all. "Hmm…" I looked her right in the eye, and she tilted her head curiously. "All done." I reached up and pulled her hand back a bit to visual confirm what my magic had suggested. I wasn't sure if she had or hadn't actually nicked herself, but there was definitely no blood. "This is a perfect example of why learning healing magic is beneficial."

"Ah." Hilda blinked a few times, clearly not expecting what I'd done. "Wow, Professor… not many would burn a spell for something so simple."

"It's no trouble at all." I smiled faintly. Claude, meanwhile, had laid his head on the table, desperately trying to muffle laughter. That alone confirmed my suspicion. Hilda had pretended, to try and get out of work. "Claude, how is your studying going?"

"I might need a basic 'how the hell does Faith magic work' course," Claude admittedly easily, pushing himself up to wipe his eyes. Hilda shot him a glare, but he ignored it. "I mean… how does it work? Do I have to pray or something?"

"Actually, that's a good way to describe it," I answered. Claude's jaw dropped. I noticed a couple of the others still at my words and hastily begin scribbling notes. I… supposed this wasn't normal knowledge, huh? "Reason magic, of course, follows strict rules and formulas. You utilize mathematics and physics to direct the ambient power of the world into a specific pattern, and that pattern determines what spell is cast. With Faith magic, however, you do not direct the power so much as ask it. It resonates with your emotions, you wishes, and your belief and that resonance leads to the spell you wish to cast. That's why complete concentration is needed when casting… well, both, actually. A formula out of place will send a Reason spell spiraling out of control, while a stray thought could lead to a Faith spell disappearing in your hands."

"I'd meant that as a joke." Claude quickly wrote down what I said. Hilda, surprisingly, did the same. "So, does it matter what you pray to?"

"No. It's whatever you believe in." I shrugged. "For most, that is the Goddess of the Church of Seiros. Thus, the misunderstanding that one must pray to the Goddess in order to cast healing spells." That probably wasn't something I should say when I was in a monastery run by the Church, but it was the truth.

"But it can be anything?" He was fixated on that. "Anything."

"Of course. After all, those who are not of Fodlan have many of the same healing spells that we do, despite not worshiping the Goddess." Healing was healing. Magic was magic. "I knew a healer in Faerghus who didn't believe in the Goddess, but cast her healing spells via her belief in the fey."

"And what are the fey?"

"Save that question for Friday. We're going to share stories and whatnot from your homes on Fridays. It will be a good way for you all to broaden your horizons." And a good way to rest because I knew they'd need it by then. "So, does that make sense, Claude? Should I try to-?"

Another yelp distracted me, but this time, it was… well, it wasn't someone trying to get out of work. Bernadetta had actually cut herself while trying to sharpen her quill, and there was blood all over the table. And the floor. And a whole lot of shrieking. Uh oh.

"I'm sorry!" Bernadetta babbled, repeating the words over and over again. She shook badly, so badly that I was surprised she managed to keep in her chair. "Your notes… I… I'm sorry!"

"Bern, I don't care about the notes," Dorothea reassured, a touch harshly. Then again, she was desperately trying to help Bernadetta staunch the bleeding. While Bernadetta was just apologizing and slinging blood everywhere. "I can remake them."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Bern, really, it's-"

"I'm sorry!"

"Dorothea, can you focus on cleaning the area?" I asked, rushing over and kneeling by Bernadetta. Dorothea hesitated, nodded, and rushed out the door to find towels. A couple of the others (Dimitri, Edelgard, and Ferdinand) ran out with her to help. "Everyone else, try to stay at your desks. Don't crowd around."

With that, I focused entirely on Bernadetta. As gently as I could, I took her hands and my heart keened bitterly when I saw her flinch. But I couldn't focus on that, so instead, I let my magic wash over her, checking for any other injuries. Finding none, I focused my magic on the sizable gash across her palm. Slowly, I managed to get her to actually show me her palm, so that I could watch the gash seal up and heal. Sometimes, my eyes would catch if something was in a wound before my magic caught it, and I didn't want to cut her open to fish anything out. Thankfully, though, it was a clean slash and it healed up easily.

"There we go," I whispered. I looked up at Bernadetta and, carefully, used my sleeve to wipe the tears from her face. She stared at me like she had no idea what just happened. "Do you still hurt?" After a moment of silence, she shook her head. "Good, I'm glad."

"Bern, you okay?" Dorothea asked, crouching down on the other side of Bernadetta. Some of the others were handling the cleaning, so I subtly pulled Bernadetta (or, more specifically, her chair) away from the table to give her some space. "Should I sing something to make the pain go away?" Bernadetta shook her head, but surprisingly, did manage a little smile. "Aw, well, you're smiling, so I call that a win anyway."

"We might need to have a lesson in sharpening quills though, since that's two of you." I wouldn't let anyone know Hilda had faked hers. "But that shall definitely be for another day." I slowly stood up, but when Bernadetta timidly squeezed my hand, I made sure to remain exactly where I was. "Do either of you want a blanket to snuggle under? I know I've got at least one more."

"That's rather tempting, actually. Maybe in a bit." Dorothea looked behind her, and stood when it became clear everyone had cleaned up as best as they could. "Thanks so much! I appreciate the help."

"Though, Professor, do you mind if I ask a question?" Mercedes asked, walking over to join us now. She tucked her shawl around Bernadetta, uncaring of the blood. Bernadetta blinked slowly, startled into total silence. "How you healed up the wound… I checked with Marianne, and she agreed that it looked different from what I'm used to." I wondered why she hadn't talked to Linhardt, since he'd been closer to her table where she studied with Felix, but a quick look showed Linhardt had decided the chaos signaled naptime. And no amount of poking and shaking from Edelgard was getting him up either. "So, what spell was it?"

"Truthfully, it wasn't a spell as you know it," I explained, a little bitter that it already came up. Well, I suppose they should know how much of a monster their teacher was as soon as possible, huh? "My magic is odd. I don't rely on formulas or my emotions in order to direct the power of the world. I just use it, though it's more limited in scope. I can't cast a Thunder spell, for instance, nor can I use anything like Physic or Fortify." I shrugged, pretending that my insides weren't twisting about. "So, if you need an actual demonstration of spells, you'll have to go to Hanneman or Manuela. I've already gotten their permission, so don't hesitate."

"I see." Mercedes frowned a little, no doubt confused, but she nodded and returned to her chair. Thankfully, so did the others and, slowly, everyone began returning back to the lessons at hand. I thought about walking around again, but Bernadetta still held onto my hands, and I didn't want to pull away.

"...Warm…" she whispered after a moment. She sounded surprised for some reason. "Your hands are really warm."

"Are they?" I asked, genuinely curious. No one had commented on it before. But maybe it was a lingering bit from my magic? Or maybe her own panic had simply turned her cold. "Is that a good thing?" She nodded hesitantly. "Then I'm glad. Are you feeling better?"

"I am…" She looked over at Dorothea, who leaned against the mostly cleaned table, waiting for Bernadetta. "I'm really sorry about your notes…"

"I can remake notes, Bern," Dorothea immediately reassured. This time, her voice was entirely gentle. "I can't exactly remake you, though. Not sure anyone can. So, if you're okay, then we're all good." She smiled and, after a blink or two, Bernadetta smiled back hesitantly. And disbelieving. "With that said, Professor, I would like to hear the explanation on how Faith magic works again? I had a couple of questions."

With that convenient excuse to stay near, I explained to Dorothea, and Bernadetta, how magic worked and what made them different from each other. By the time I finished, Bernadetta had let go of my hand and I decided it was a good time for a break. So, I urged everyone outside while I fetched snacks to get them a boost of energy to make it through the rest of the morning. I felt it was only fair.

---

Thankfully, the rest of the morning went smoothly, with no more major arguments or injuries. I did have to explain to Seteth during lunch why some of my students stole towels from the training grounds, but thankfully, he'd understood. I did decide it would be best to keep a stash in the classroom just in case something like that happened again, if only to save time and anxiety. But that was for later because, after lunch, it was time for afternoon training. At my suggestion, everyone had changed into looser clothes better suited for physical activity over the lunch break, and I noted with amusement that they were all color-coded for the houses before ordering them to pick up the weapons I'd designated and do some warmups.

"Hey, Professor?" Leonie called, as I walked around making sure no one was skimping on their stretches. And by 'called', I meant she had seized my arm when I passed by her and refused to let me go while looking at me like she was debating challenging me to a duel or something. "Why am I assigned bows?"

"Is that a problem?" I asked, somewhat surprised. Particularly by the edge in her tone. Was I imagining it? "Bows were one of your specialties according to the aptitude test."

"Well, no, not really. I love bows. But bows alone won't make me an elite mercenary." Her eyes narrowed. "I want to follow Captain Jeralt's example, so-"

"Following his example doesn't mean trailing in his shadow." I probably should've waited for her to finish her sentence, but I remembered Dad worrying about this. "Besides, Dad was the one who suggested bows for you."

"He did?" All at once, the antagonism I'd sensed evaporated. "Really?"

"Yes?" That seemed like a ridiculous thing to lie about. "He taught you before, so I asked his opinion. Between his knowledge and your aptitudes, I set up a plan to have you be a mounted archer." I glanced at everyone, noting they were done with warmups, and refocused on her. "I am going to teach you a way to practice for that, which will be different than your normal archery practice."

"That so?" She finally let go of me, intrigued now. "Bring it on! I'm ready!"

"Over here, then. The first thing is that your stance will be different. Shooting from a horse is very different from shooting on foot, and this will help you adjust."

I talked Leonie through the stance and exercises I wanted her to work on for now, before making my way around to everyone else to help them begin drills. Since today was the first day, I wanted everyone to just work on the basics. Even though part of me wanted to show them tricks I had seen, tricks that might keep them alive during their first battle, I knew I shouldn't. For one thing, basics saved your life more often than tricks ever could. For another, I had to be certain they had the skill and strength needed to do those tricks and the only way to do that was to see where they were with the basics.

"Okay, I'm sure most of you are wondering why I'm shoving weapons in your hands," I began to the 'mage/healer group' once I had everyone else started. I truthfully had most of them with practice swords, but Hubert had a lance. I still agreed with Sothis on that one. "Unless Lysithea explained what I had told her when she asked a while ago."

"I did, actually," Lysithea revealed, smiling a little smugly. I had a feeling she greatly enjoyed explaining things to everyone. Not sure why, since I didn't think it was due to liking to teach, but… "I thought it might save some time."

"It does indeed." Without thinking about it, I stroked her hair and then turned to everyone else to address them. "Now, I picked the weapons based on your aptitudes and how you fared in the sparring match, but if any of you want to change to a different weapon, just tell me."

"Actually, Professor, do you mind if I go with axes instead of swords?" Annette asked. That took me a second to process. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen a mage use axes in the field before…? Wait, no, there had been that healer. Think they'd done more damage with their fists than their spells. "I actually have a little bit of training with them already, you see. House Dominic's Hero's Relic is the magic axe, Crusher."

"Yes, you can take up axes instead," I answered, desperately trying to remember what a 'Hero Relic' was. All I came up with were several blanks. I'd have to try and figure it out later. It didn't matter for now. "Go ahead and pick one out. As for the rest of you, we're going to work on grips and basic stances, okay?"

It was an… interesting experience. Mercedes managed to nearly give me a concussion when she swung her sword and somehow lost her grip. Hubert nearly broke his own foot while practicing a downward thrust. Dorothea was prone to 'flashier' movements that did nothing but communicate her blows better. Linhardt somehow managed to fall asleep standing up, and only woke because he dropped his practice sword on his foot. Lysithea and Annette both managed to tangle their feet and nearly fall on their faces. Marianne kept shrinking away from her training sword like she thought it would bite her. And I did still have to keep an eye on everyone else, adjusting stances and shifting grips. But, by the time we reached the halfway point of the afternoon training, I did think I managed to show the mages and healers a basic grip and basic stance each. So, that was something? I'd definitely had to re-think on how to teach them, but...

"Okay, everyone, I want you to gather together, please," I called around that halfway point (and, thus, convenient stopping point). After a moment, everyone did as I asked, though some made a brief stop to get some water. "All right then." I looked over everyone, studying each of them to pick out who was the least visibly tired. "Caspar, Dimitri. Come to the middle." Again, there was a pause, but both did as I asked. "Everyone else, circle up. Make sure you give them plenty of room."

"Wait, Professor, are we sparring?" Caspar asked eagerly. Dimitri smiled hesitantly, like he had no idea what to think of this. "Really?"

"It's not going to be as much of a free-for-all spar like what I had you all do with me." At least, I didn't plan on it. "Make sure to stop when I say to stop." I stepped back, closer than the others, but still giving plenty of room. "Everyone who is currently watching, keep on your feet because you might have to dodge. Dimitri, Caspar, you may begin whenever."

Caspar eagerly took that as his cue, surging forward with a yell. I had him focus on hand-to-hand, so he wore training-gauntlets, things made to only bruise. Of course, he had to hit, which proved difficult because Dimitri would parry and dart out of reach, and more importantly, stay out of reach. Lances had a farther range, and Dimitri used that to keep Caspar from coming close enough to strike. Still, that had its own consequences. Since Caspar was forced to keep his distance, he was able to see where and when Dimitri struck and, thus, could block and dodge, taking nothing worse than a glancing blow at most. But it would soon become a battle of stamina, and since Caspar used more energy (via dodging more, and extraneous movements that we'd need to work on), the battle of attrition favored Dimitri.

So, Caspar went with a very reckless decision. Let Dimitri's lance graze his side so that he could step into Dimitri's guard and slip into a blind spot. I had no idea if it was an intentional decision, or a lucky accident, but that never mattered in a battle. In battle, luck played as much of a role as skill, speed, and strength. And it looked like Caspar's favored him today, because he got in close, pulling back one fist for what would be a devastating blow. In a true battle, where he'd likely wear some sort of spiked gauntlet, it might even have been a fatal one.

Except, that didn't happen. Because without a single second's hesitation, Dimitri did something beyond reckless and, unlike Caspar, it was clearly nothing but deliberate. He flipped his training lance around and thrust it towards him, slamming the point into Caspar's unprotected back. If we had been working with true weapons, it would no doubt be a fatal blow for Caspar… with a very good chance of Dimitri skewering himself with his own damn lance. Good armor would likely keep it from being fatal, but it was still a reckless maneuver. After all, it wouldn't necessarily be instantly fatal for Caspar in a 'true' fight, meaning Caspar would either have time to still get a good hit in or pin Dimitri with his body so that someone else could finish the job. I also didn't like how Dimitri hadn't even hesitated before...

["Yes, I suppose it is a terrible thing to witness someone you like have little to no regard for their life, isn't it?"] Sothis sounded incredibly smug and sarcastic at the same time. ["Why, it is like he doesn't know the value of his own life! I wonder what this reminds me of. Hmmm..."]

"All right, enough," I called, pointedly ignoring Sothis's comment. She snickered, delighted by everything. "Much better to see weaknesses in a situation like this than in drills, I hope." Both Dimitri and Caspar nodded, and Dimitri helped Caspar steady himself when Caspar swayed a little from exhaustion. "Good. Dimitri, you up for a demonstration?" Dimitri nodded again, not saying anything. "Okay then. Caspar, hand me your gauntlets and get one of the healer trio to check your back."

Caspar did as I asked, and badgered Linhardt to check him over after he passed me his gauntlets. I strapped them on and shifted back, gauging about where Caspar had been for most of the fight. Dimitri twirled his lance once, before settling into a stance, prepared for another round of sparring. I waited to make sure he was ready, and then I lunged forward to begin.

I was a bit faster than Caspar, so I held myself back. And I didn't go with a flip or anything, since I was almost certain Caspar couldn't do something like that yet. Or at all, depending. And I wanted to try and replicate his fighting as much as I could. So, instead, I blocked and dodged as he had before parrying and quickly twisting so that I could grab the shaft of the lance, while keeping the bladed part far behind me. Then I jabbed the lance back to catch Dimitri in the chest with the blunt end and darted forward to… well, in a true fight, I would've crushed his throat with a fire-wrapped punch. As it was… well, truthfully, he recovered faster than I'd anticipated and he tried to dodge. Or block. One of the two. Either way, it meant that my strike unbalanced us both and I ended up pinning him to the ground, one hand on the ground by his face and the other fist poised over his neck. Both of us knew that in a true fight, he'd be dead.

"Not a bad recovery," I praised, smiling a little at him. His face was flushed, either from the fight or maybe the praise. Most likely the former. But he did smile, so maybe the praise had a little to do with it? "That's another weakness you'll have to account for, if you choose lances as your preferred weapon." I got off of him and helped him up before taking off the gauntlets to return to Caspar. "Get checked by a healer, and then get some water, Dimitri."

"Of course, Professor," Dimitri replied, bowing formally. He made sure to kick his fallen lance to his hand before ducking out of the center. Mercedes immediately caught him and I saw Dedue had actually brought him water. It was nice to see such care between the cubs...

"All right then…" I handed Caspar back his gauntlets and looked over everyone, gauging who looked like they had recovered enough for sparring. "Claude and Ferdinand. You two are next, so come to the center, please."

I had to teach them quickly what things to watch out for. Bandits might be untrained, but they were rarely stupid. Stupid bandits never lived long enough to be threats. I had to do my best to minimize obvious weaknesses. I had to. Otherwise, they might…

---

I almost breathed a sigh of relief when afternoon training came to an end, because it meant that I had successfully managed to get through my first day of teaching. However, since I remembered how Linhardt how nodded off during the morning class, I knew I couldn't fully relax yet. Instead, I spent some time carefully jotting down what was discussed (with Sothis's help), rewrote the notes to be legible, and then I hunted for his room. Surprisingly, he was actually on the first floor, in the room closest to the stairs on the second level. I would've thought he'd be on the second floor, since I'd heard that was where most of the nobles were. Then again, nobility made up the bulk of the students, so they might have just run out of room on the second floor.

"Linhardt?" I called, knocking on the door. There was no answer. "Linhardt?" Was he even here? Was he asleep? ...Actually, he probably was. "Linhardt?"

"Yes?" The reply was muffled and half of a yawn. Yep, he'd been asleep. "Come in…" Still, it was understandable, so I opened the door to find Linhardt sprawled out on the floor amidst numerous open books. Each one looked to be of a different topic, based on what I could see on the pages. "Oh, Professor…" he mumbled, slowly rising. He teetered a bit before regaining his balance. "What is it?"

"Here." I handed him the packet of notes. He took them with a curious frown, quickly reading over them. "This is what I remember we talked about in class, but I'd rather not do something like this again. For one thing, it counts a lot on my memory and for another, quite a bit of what I want you to learn isn't something that can be easily summarized." Also, my handwriting really wasn't the best…

"It's not that I want to miss lectures per se. Drowsiness is simply my archnemesis." He yawned loudly, rubbing at his eyes. He set the packet of notes on his bed, on his pillow even. I wondered if that meant he'd actually read them. "Even just talking about it makes me sleepy… I can't win against it."

"That so?" This would be a problem and, sadly, it was simply one I'd have to try and adapt to. I highly doubted I could force him awake. "Is there a way I can help with your motivation?"

"Motivation isn't the issue. Or, well, not having enough of it. It's more like I don't have any for anything. Anything boring or useless, at least." Though he yawned again, he suddenly leaned forward to study my face. "Still, most peculiar…"

"What is?"

"Well, normally by this point in a conversation, I'm bored to tears. Caspar has always been the only exception. Yet now, it seems I've found another. You. I wonder why that is." He straightened, studying me. Like he was trying to vivisect me or something. "You are… very odd."

"Pardon?" Oh, lovely… here we went again…

"Odd. Your very nature is odd. Child of a famous knight, one many claim is an invincible god of war." Whoever claimed that never saw his injuries. Azrael and I had to heal him up many times over the years, and I hated each time. "Very famous. Yet, somehow, you remained out of the public eye for twenty years." That was more due to Dad than me. "Then, when you do appear, you automatically gain the favor of the Archbishop, and the respect of the three heirs of the nations." The 'favor' was because of who my parents were and because I was a glorified hostage. The 'respect' was pure coincidence. "Then there is your general air. Growing up outside of typical society, you do not hold yourself as a commoner nor as a noble would." What was that supposed to mean? "You are an enigma, through and through. Or a villain who came here under the guise as a professor to sow the seeds for some evil plot. Like sparking a war or something."

"...You think I'm a villain?" Most normally just jumped straight to 'demon', but I supposed 'villain' wasn't all that unusual.

"Few things surprise me nowadays. I stopped being surprised when my father broke his oaths and participated in the Insurrection of the Seven." He said the words absently, like they were unimportant, but I had to wonder just what he meant by that. "You know… Professor Hanneman mentioned something interesting recently."

"Did he?" I had a bad feeling suddenly. But I couldn't just run. That would be rude… "What was it?"

"He rambled that you and Sir Azrael had crests. He has the Major Crest of Seiros, and you have one that is unable to be identified by conventional methods." He smiled, and there was definitely a brightness to his eyes that most would say made him look chipper. Me? It made me want to run. "Should be interesting whenever that information makes it to the Empire. It will eventually. No one is able to hide their crest forever with everyone placing such importance to them, and a Major Crest is rare enough. A Major Crest of a saint? Even rarer."

"That so?" Yep, wanted to run. Starting to not care about politeness. "What about it?"

"Hmm? Ah, yes." He snapped his fingers, like that would 'snap' his thoughts make to the original thought path. "Well, I was wondering if, perhaps, I could study your crest. That might lead to answers to clear up that enigma."

"...Most don't take kindly to being treated as a test subject, you know."

"Hmm? Why?" He sounded genuinely confused. "It means you're interesting."

"'Interesting' can often lead you to get hurt." A flicker of a memory of rocks being thrown at me nearly made me flinch. But I wouldn't mention that. "I would think the way people talk of Dedue and Petra behind their backs, for simply being foreign, shows that."

"They talk about them?" He still sounded confused. "Huh. I wouldn't know. I don't pay attention to fools. Particularly fools who think they possess some sort of superiority for being the same boring thing as everyone else." I… I had no idea how to react to that. At all. "Ah, but I don't mean to ask if I could study it at once or anything. I have a few other projects I need to either finish or get bored with first."

"...I'll consider it if you stay awake in lectures."

"Ouch… a bargain…" He thought for a long while before sighing. "All right. I'll make more of an effort if you'll consider it. Is that okay?"

"I'll take it. And I'll try to find ways to keep things interesting." And I needed to leave. Now. "Do try to read those notes. They might help." And with that, I left, making sure to close the door behind me. And immediately left the dorms and started for the main building to head up to the Captain's office, where Dad hopefully was. I wanted a hug...

["So, is there something about crests that just make people lose any sense of tact and decency?"] Though, Sothis's annoyance did do a lot to soothe me. How unimpressed she was by the conversation made me feel like I wasn't overreacting. ["What was that goddess of theirs thinking, 'gifting' such cursed things to humans? Were times truly so troubled that it was the lesser of two evils?"] It wasn't like I had any idea about that. I didn't even know the official story. ["If you're ever bored enough, you should try to read some of it. It might be fun to whip out a page and paragraph that specifically contradicts a point some idiot tries to argue."] That was an idea, and part of me wondered if I should check something out of the library after visiting Dad, but… well, life had other plans. Plans that I almost walked straight into when I reached what should've been the empty reception hall.

"You." And it all started with me hearing Lorenz's voice, though I had never heard it with such a sneering tone before. "What are you doing?" And I didn't like that it was directed at Claude, which I discovered when I decided to follow Lorenz's voice and found him and Claude staring each other down in the middle of the reception hall.

"Well, if it isn't Lorenz!" Claude's reply, filled with mockery and said with a smile more false than any other I'd seen on his face, also made me terribly uncomfortable. "Hello!"

"Yes, it is. Try not to sound so affronted," Lorenz mocked in return, with his face scrunched up like he had come across a corpse five days into rotting. All my sense screamed for me to run away from this, but my legs were frozen. "And you're just whimsically wandering the monastery grounds again, I suppose?"

"Oh, naturally!" Claude agreed. His smile was razor sharp and had all the sweetness of poisoned honey. I really needed to get out of here, but I couldn't seem to move my legs. I hoped Sothis could somehow help me move my unresponsive feet. But nope, she was having fun watching this. "After all, I really do enjoy the Garreg Mach Monastery."

"I think not." Lorenz's eyes narrowed. I desperately looked around for someone who could intervene, but there was no one. Of course there wasn't. Lorenz had to have planned this to have no witnesses. It was just my luck that I wandered into it anyway. "That impish look on your face does not suggest innocence. You are up to something."

"Lorenz, you wound me!" Claude stumbled back as if hit, but there was nothing playful about the action at all. "And really, you must control yourself. It's improper to throw baseless accusations, after all." He gestured to the nearby pillars. "Besides, this monastery is packed with a thousand years' worth of history! Or, well, just five years shy of a thousand, if we're going for accuracy. This place has seen more than we could possibly imagine! Our distant ancestors walked these halls! Does that not excite you?"

"Perhaps, if this were a discussion about art. But it is not, and you will not distract me from what is plainly suspicious about you." Now, Lorenz glared. Claude continued smiling, sharp as a dagger's point. "House Riegan was on the brink of collapse until they suddenly revealed you as their legitimate heir. That was one year ago. Where were you before that?" ...Hey now… this was now getting uncomfortable for different reasons. "Are you even a true heir to House Riegan?"

"If I weren't truly of House Riegan descent, then how do you suppose I got my crest?" Claude held his hand out as if brandishing a knife before opening it. In a split second, a symbol etched in light appeared above his palm, an ornamental crescent moon. "See? It's right here."

"A crest is insufficient!" Lorenz stepped forward threateningly, and gestured sharply to 'cut' through the light. It remained whole, not wavering in the slightest. Mocking Lorenz's implied threat. "I am referring to your noble disposition, or rather, the lack thereof!"

"Well, that's what I came here to hone, after all." Claude closed his fist, dismissing the symbol of light, and used the motion to bow 'formally'. Anyone with eyes could clearly see he was still mocking Lorenz. "I can only hope that you will assent to teaching me the art of snobbery, Professor Lorenz!"

"I do not think you sufficiently understand the weight and significance of the responsibility you bear!" Lorenz stepped forward again. Claude straightened, deceptively relaxed. I felt like throwing up and really needed to leave. "Do you even know what it means to lead the Leicester Alliance? I take no pleasure in saying this, but much of the chaos in our ranks right now is due to the failings of House Riegan's leadership!" ...Excuse me? That was wrong in many, many ways. But even if it was right… "I intend to set things right. And once I expose you for the fraud you are, and reclaim my rightful place, that is precisely what I will do." Even if it was right, Lorenz had no right to say any of this. "To be blunt, it would have been better had you never shown your face around here!" He had no right at all to say any of this...!

"Lorenz," I called softly, coldly. Despite the soft tone, both Claude and Lorenz jumped back as if I had stabbed them. I imagine neither had known I was here. "Would you mind repeating what you just said?"

"Professor?" Lorenz replied, blinking slowly as he tried to process everything. After a moment, he drew himself up to stand tall and dignified. Claude, meanwhile, took a giant step back to try and separate himself from Lorenz. "This was just-"

"I didn't ask what it was. I can see for myself just what it is. It's a spoilt child throwing a tantrum because they were deprived of some toy they assumed was theirs, despite there being absolutely nothing to base that assumption on." I knew my expression was even more blank than normal, but this sort of thing was just… just…! "No matter. I think I would actually prefer you to not repeat those wretched words. Such a disgusting thought is better left to disappear."

"That is…" Lorenz reeled back like I'd slapped him. "Ahem… Professor, I was merely-"

"Showing your ignorance and your entitlement." Distantly, I knew I should be fair. That I should be quiet and let him speak. But I… I couldn't tolerate something like this. I didn't care if everyone hated each other in this cohort, but damn it all, they had to respect each other if there was any chance of working together in a battle. No, if there was any chance of them surviving a battle together, they had to... "You blame the chaos in the Alliance on House Riegan? Perhaps the nobility wish to do so, but I know who the people blame and it is not solely House Riegan." So, instead, I kept talking, keeping my words even and calm. Barely talking above a whisper. "Would you like me to inform you of just what they think of House Gloucester?" Everyone talked of how House Gloucester 'had' to be involved in Lord Godfrey Riegan's death. There was no proof, of course, but the whispers alone were telling. "There are many rumors and gossip on the subject."

"I…" Anger flashed across Lorenz's face. A 'how dare she' sort of anger. "You…"

"We can also speak of this supposed 'rightful place' you spoke of. After all, the favorite to inheriting leadership of the Alliance prior to Claude's official appearance was Lord Holst Goneril." No one in House Gloucester had been in consideration, based on the rumors I had heard, but I bit that back. Sothis wanted me to say it, to really rattle his ego, but I had a different way I wished to sharpen my point. "So, Lorenz, I have an assignment for you due by the end of the week. I want an answer to this question. What in that vitriol had anything to do with the ideal of nobility you claim to seek?" I met his gaze without hesitation, even with that anger. "You are welcome to see what happens if you do not complete the assignment, but I am not certain you will like it." Truthfully, I had no idea what I'd do, but hopefully, he wouldn't call the bluff.

For a moment, I thought he would. Right then and there. But after a very tense second, Lorenz scoffed and stomped off with all the dignity of… well, I was sure he thought it was of a 'proper noble'. I thought he just looked like a child who was denied a sweet. But that was just me being uncharitable, which was horrible. To lose my temper like that, at a student, was just...

"Well, that was an experience," Claude noted once Lorenz was out of sight, clasping his hands behind his head. Unlike before, he looked relaxed. Truly relaxed. "And a lecture. Did you lose your temper? Didn't think you had a temper to lose, mind."

"Perhaps a little," I mumbled, feeling ill. What a lovely way to end my first day of classes. I already knew I was a sorry excuse for a teacher, but… "That last thing he said was…"

"Ah, it's fine, Teach. I don't care."

"I do." I looked right at him, and I caught the surprise on his face. "Saying something like that is nothing but hubris. He has no right to dictate whether or not you should be here. Nor does he have the right to demand your secrets."

"Many would disagree with you."

"Let them. I am used to being hated." Since I kept holding his gaze, I saw the second bit of surprise cross his face. "Whatever your past, the person I know is the one standing in front of me. If you wish to tell me your past to explain a motivation, I will gladly listen. The past shapes the present. But it is the present I know, so it is the present I judge."

"...You know… you said all of that without a single emotion crossing your face. Both before and now." Claude frowned, studying me. I nearly ran, not wanting to deal with another conversation. My nerves felt raw. "Bet the stone-faced thing helped with being a mercenary. Bit of a surprise that you chose to become a teacher all of a sudden." I didn't choose anything. I was conscripted. "Your mother probably was sad when you became one, though. A mercenary, I mean. Though, actually, I haven't heard you mention her at all."

"Mom died giving birth to Azrael and me." I was surprised he hadn't heard about it what with everyone gossiping. "She's buried in the graveyard here, actually."

"Oh." He was silent for a very long second. "I think that's the second or third time I managed to nearly kick my teeth out by asking you a question."

"I believe it is as well." I finally made myself relax. Though, it was hard. I needed a hug… "I believe you also had a point to the statement."

"Yeah, but I lost my convenient lead-in, so now I'm trying to think of a new one." He laughed, and though it sounded tired, there was a warmth to it as well. "I guess what I was going to say was how you seem to understand what it's like to be an outsider. Like me." He grinned at me suddenly. "Maybe that's why I find you easy to talk to." He did? Edelgard said something similar… "Anyway, I wouldn't worry about Lorenz, Teach. He'll cool down in a few hours." Claude walked ahead a few steps ahead before turning back towards me. "I have to say that dealing with him did make me hungry, though. Care for some grub?"

Truthfully, my stomach was so tied in knots that I doubted I'd be able to eat anything, and I really wanted to just run to Dad. But I agreed anyway. I should at least try to act professional, especially after such a bad example.

---

I woke up from a nightmare. Same as always. Except this was a nightmare that was worse than the others I usually had. One I'd had since I was very little, that used to be the absolute worse nightmare I had. Now, it was joined with that one with children being tortured in the dark and that one where I wasn't the observer. But unlike those two, I'd had this one before, so I should be semi-calm about it. Used to it, even. Or so I tried to tell myself as I laid there in my bed. Tried to tell myself so that… well, it didn't matter. Because the same thing happened as it always did. Namely, I had to scramble out of bed, knocking a few things over in the process, and rush to the bathroom before I threw up all over my blankets.

["Why must your dreams show you the painful parts of the past?"] Sothis bemoaned, once I managed to stop puking for a second. When I tried to reply, though, I just ended up puking more. My stomach hurt from the heaves. My throat burned. ["Honestly, you find enough pain to drown in during your present!"]

Well, it wasn't as if I had an any idea. Assuming I could think. All I could really think about was how sour my mouth was. How my shoulders and back ached. How I didn't think I had eaten enough that day to throw up so much, but hey, look where we were anyway. Things like that. My life had a single focal point, and it wasn't one I cared for, but couldn't change at the moment. Which sucked. A lot.

"Professor?" I barely heard Dimitri over my coughing and choking. And subsequent further vomiting. "Professor, is everything okay? I heard something fall over?" I wanted to reply, but I could only cough and spit. I just couldn't control my body at the moment. "Professor?" This was the worst. "...Professor, I'm coming in." Wait, no, now it was the worst. Because now, Dimitri had to see me like this. And it wasn't like I could hide. Sure, I wasn't immediately visible, but whatever I had knocked over was, and the door to the bathroom was ajar. So, Dimitri found me before long. "Professor?!" He immediately knelt beside me, resting a hesitantly gentle hand on my back. "Are you ill? I can help you to the infirmary if you need…"

"No, I'm fine," I rasped. I coughed to try and clear my throat, and just barely kept myself from dry heaving. Using his shoulder, I managed to wobble up to my feet to get some water to rinse my mouth. "I just had a particularly bad nightmare tonight. That's all."

"I'm… not sure this qualifies as fine." He remained near, which was a good thing, since I stumbled while trying to leave the bathroom. He kept me from falling on my face. "At all."

"Perhaps I should say this isn't abnormal, then?" With his help, I managed to make it to my shelves and shakily began making tea. "Would you like some tea? I'm making ginger." I probably should just nibble on some, but even the thought made my aching stomach twist and whimper. Tea was easier to stomach. Literally.

"Ginger, huh? That's one of the few Fodlan teas Dedue likes." Dimitri watched me for a moment before, hesitantly and gently just like before, he reached over and touched my hand. Supporting it, even. "Your hands are trembling."

"I'm used to it." It was just… one of my things. I never cried, but when I hurt, my hands would shake. Physical, mental, emotional… it didn't matter. If I was hurting, my hands would shake. It was how Dad would figure out if I was actually doing okay or not. "I promise that I won't spill anything." Remembering I'd knocked something over earlier, I added, "Else. Anything else."

"Ah, right, I heard something fall…" He didn't look away from me. If anything, he peered closer. No doubt trying to discern my emotions through my blank face. "You're very pale. Perhaps you should sit down?"

"I appreciate the concern, but as I said, this isn't atypical for me." Slowly, I made the tea, ignoring any other protests. Dimitri hovered for a moment longer before leaving my side. It wasn't until I heard the clink of glass that I realized why. "I can pick that up."

"I'm right here." The clinking continued. "Do you have a towel here or should I take one from the training grounds?"

"There's… one in the bathroom." My mind was all over the place, so it took me a couple of seconds to click pieces together. "Oh, did one of the vases break?"

"Yeah, your nightstand fell over." And Dimitri carefully cleaned it up for me. By the time the tea was done, he actually had everything more or less sorted out. The only thing he hadn't done yet was find another place for the flowers, and given how he looked around, that was just for a lack of knowing where to put them. "Where should…?"

"Just… anywhere, I suppose." I didn't really have the strength to think clearly at the moment. It took all I had to not completely fall into my chair after pouring two cups. "The tea is ready."

"I'll be right there."

"Okay." I wanted to protest, but decided against it. Instead, I simply nursed my tea and watched him move around the room, slipping the fallen flowers into separate vases with a care that I thought excessive. "While flowers are fragile, they're not going to fall apart at a touch, you know."

"I'm actually more worried about breaking the vase, given my strength." Dimitri smiled very bitterly as he tucked the last flower into a vase and finally joined me at the table. "If I'm not careful, I can break bones without much effort."

"Really? I've certainly noticed the unusual strength." But that much? Bones were sturdy. They had to be, given the stress daily life put on them.

"The royal family has always been abnormally strong. Most likely, it's the result of our crest."

"I suppose that's why you handled pulling Sylvain and Felix out of trouble? That's what Ingrid said, at least."

"Perhaps a little." He chuckled, but he studied me closely. "You've a little more color to your face again. That's good."

"While I do not normally have such a strong reaction, it's not uncommon." It honestly used to be more common when I was younger. Then I started seeing similar on battlefields. But this one… I just could never… "I'm sure I mentioned this before, but I always have nightmares. And I always have had them."

"Always?" Dimitri frowned, no doubt wondering how seriously to take the word. I doubted he'd take it literally. Even Madeline, who was well aware of how abnormal I was, didn't take it literally. Only Dad and Azrael knew I really meant 'always'. "So you've never had strange dreams?"

"What's your definition of strange?" Because some of the dreams were 'strange' in just how brutal people could be.

"Oh, something like your friends somehow bouncing around while wrapped in so much wool they resemble yarn balls?" He smiled a little, drinking his tea slowly. I… I tried to imagine that and came up blank. "Wait, no, that actually did happen once."

"That happened?" I had to smile a little. "Really?"

"No matter what Ingrid likes to say, we were all little terrors when we were toddlers, including her. We were constantly getting into everything." Dimitri's smile grew slightly at the memory. "I think Rodrigue almost invested in a leash for Felix just to stop him from getting too close to sharp, shiny objects. Felix was like a magpie when it came to shiny things."

"I remember Dad saying something similar, when Azrael jumped into a river during the winter in Faerghus to try and go after a snow leopard." Not that Azrael nor I had thought the 'pretty kitty' would be dangerous or anything. We'd been too young for that. "That's when Azrael and I had our first hypothermia and frostbite lesson, actually."

"That is simultaneously easy and difficult to imagine."

"Is it?" I didn't think so, but before I could try to explain, I sensed Azrael fretting over me. I had no idea why he was awake, but he had caught the lingering remnants of my reaction to this night's nightmare. So, I closed my eyes and focused on reassuring him that I was fine.

"Are you all right?" Dimitri, however, probably took it to mean that I was holding back the urge to vomit again. "Should I…?"

"No, really, I'm well." I opened my eyes again when I sensed Azrael was placated, and smiled faintly before drinking more of my tea. The ginger 'burned' my mouth, but in a nice, tingly way. And it warmed me through and through. Though, in retrospect, I probably should've thrown something else with it for my throat. My throat hurt more. "I was just reassuring Azrael." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I mentally cursed and wished I could take them back. I hadn't really meant to say that. I mean… I had, but I hadn't.

["If you really want to, we can turn back the hands of time."] Sothis's voice was gentle in my head. ["But I doubt you two will hide it forever. You're much too used to it."] I hated that she was right about that. But even if she wasn't, I wouldn't want to use that power for this. It should only be used for life or death. Neither of us were gods, after all. ["Quite true. And it would be unfair if you got to erase mistakes and no one else could."] That was exactly it…

"Um… Professor?" That didn't make it any easier to sit there while Dimitri stared at me, wondering if I had a head injury. "Sir Azrael isn't here?" he began slowly, looking around to confirm. Like he expected Azrael to jump out of the shadows. "So, how…?"

"...He said it during the trip to the monastery," I answered softly. I tried to not sound bitter, but I wasn't sure how well I succeeded. If Dad were here, he no doubt would've heard it. "Twins can read each other's minds. Or, at least, Azrael and I can."

"That hadn't been sarcasm?"

"Not that time, no." I gulped the last of my tea and refilled my cup. "We've just… always been that way. We can sense each other's presence, thoughts, pain, emotions… everything, really. It's not full-proof or anything, but with practice, we've learned." I thought of how strange everyone found our lack of rivalry to be. "I imagine it's why we don't argue too much. If one of us hurts, the other will feel it. Well, if the other is awake. I'm not sure why he was up, but he sensed… well, he sensed I had a nightmare and everything after that. And he worried."

"That's…" Dimitri frowned, absently fiddling with his cup. I noticed it was half-empty. "I must admit that while you hear the jokes, I have never heard of…"

"My brother and I are very strange." Me more than him, of course. He was abnormal. I was a monster. "But it fuels his protectiveness. Quite a few times, he'll say something he'd normally bite back just to change the subject for my sake. Or he'll sense my unease and snap at the person who caused it."

"Like the priest you and he talked about that day?" He had a good memory. Then again, I had brought it up again. "Do you mind if I ask what you said to the priest?"

"You don't want to sputter more about the strangeness of my mental link with my twin?"

"Truthfully, it's hard to wrap my head around that, so I'm attempting to change the subject to give me a bit of time." He laughed, but I felt like he was just laughing to keep from yelling. "If you don't wish to share, though, that's fine."

"Well…" I wasn't sure how to go about this. It wasn't something I wanted to hide necessarily, but I also didn't want to rip into old wounds. Still, he at least wasn't calling me a monster to my face yet, so I didn't want to lie… "I asked how the massacre of Duscar's people was justified."

"Pardon?" He stared at me for a moment, before chuckling. Yet there was no humor in the sound at all. "I suppose it does seem a bit much for what's ultimately the death of a handful of people, isn't it?" Dimitri's smile was sardonically bitter, and his tone, brittle. The resignment in his eyes hinted he had heard something like that before, and that made my heart ache. This was why I had hesitated in saying anything. He had seen them die. I had no doubts at all that the events haunted his nightmares. "And I-"

"Is that truly the case?" I scrambled for a way to somehow, somehow, keep this conversation from ripping open wounds. I was sure it was too late and that I was an idiot for even bringing it up in the first place, but still, I felt I had to try. Probably proved even further how idiotic and foolish I was. "If I recall correctly, your father was a beloved king, wasn't he? Dad likes him, at least. I could tell when he brought him up at the tavern."

"I still need to ask him about what he said." Thankfully, that brittle, bitter resignment faded… or, at least, I was thankful until I realized it had simply been devoured by the shadows that clung to him. "But yes, I was always under the impression my father was well liked. He had enemies, certainly, but…"

"That means when he died, most of your people lost someone they loved, didn't they?" It was painful, losing those you loved. The very idea made my heart keen and twist in agony. "It may have been the love a citizen has for their king, but that is not a lesser love. Given how well-regarded knights are in the Kingdom, I'm certain many were well liked as well. So, even if you simply think of those deaths as 'the death of a handful of people'..." Words… words were hard, particularly since I was emulating Azrael right now and just talking as I thought. Not the best of ideas, but I was desperate. "Even if you think of it in that way, then does not the pain of your people make sense? Who wouldn't be angry and upset over losing someone they loved so suddenly, so violently?"

"I…" The shadows retreated, leaving on Dimitri's wide-eyed stare. I'd caught him off-guard. "I suppose… you have a point there."

"But then you have that it wasn't just a simple person who died. Among them was a king, a leader. Dad has told me that leaders are not just people, but symbols as well." I had no idea where I was going with this. I could only hope it made sense… no, sense was too much to hope for. I just hoped it didn't hurt Dimitri further. "King Lambert… he would've symbolized… a lot of things, wouldn't he? He would've symbolized a stable, happy future for your people and their loved ones. He was their hope. And all of that was cruelly, mercilessly ripped away. So, that day, your people not only lost people they loved. They lost people they admired, and they lost their hope. I have seen people have many different reactions to losing their hope." Some went catatonic. Others ripped everything around them to shreds. "It is understandable that your people went mad from grief, given all of that."

"That is…" He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find his own words. "But you asked…"

"Just because something understandable doesn't make it justifiable. It doesn't make it just." I should've just not said anything and kept away from this conversation entirely. But I made my mistake. Now, I had to deal with it. "I do not understand how they can scream of how 'dishonorable' the attack was… how they can never forgive Duscar for supposedly going against all codes of honor and ethics, yet praise the idea of slaughtering innocent people in their homes as justice. They…" I couldn't think of how to parse out my frustration. How much my heart ached at the thought. And just how similar it had to have been to so many of my nightmares. "I know I truly don't have a right to talk about it, being an outsider, but I cannot help but question when supposed justice involves…"

"...Because it's not. It's not justice." Dimitri's words were very soft, almost too soft to hear, but his smile was… well, it was pained, but there was relief in it as well. "Nothing about that day was just. Not what happened to my family and friends, and not what happened to the Duscar people. It was just…" He closed his eyes, willing back something. Tears? Harsh words? Hard to say. Could be both. "It was simply mindless slaughter that brought nothing but mountains of corpses and rivers of blood." I wondered how to reply to that, but Dimitri opened his eyes again and completely focused on me. "I am… glad to hear someone else believes the same as I do, truthfully. Other than Dedue, I don't… well, even Dedue takes a pragmatic view to it, but I think it is simply a way he copes."

"Does no one else?"

"Ingrid hates Duscar. I do not know Sylvain's feelings on the matter, and I doubt he'd tell me even if I asked. He stopped giving me straight answers since that day, though I wouldn't say he was completely forthcoming before. Felix, for his part, turned his hatred on the concept of chivalry, knighthood, and duty because of…" White-hot pain flashed across his face and he shook his head. "Well, because of…"

"Don't force yourself." I could take a guess anyway. I had heard the elder son of House Fraldarius had died during the Tragedy, after all. "I probably shouldn't have asked at all. Everyone copes differently. Dad mentioned that grieving has many steps, and not a one is linear."

"Yes…" He smiled in quiet thanks, and I smiled a little in return. "So, you asked a priest about Ducar? Really?"

"I think I more asked how the Goddess could find justice in the slaughter of children, which you must admit wasn't the brightest of ideas anyway." I couldn't remember why I had been cranky enough to ask anyway. Perhaps it had been a particularly bad nightmare. "Regardless, the priest screamed at me. Called me 'heretic' and 'blasphemer'... I think 'filthy demon' was also mentioned." Wasn't the worse I had heard by any means, so most of it hadn't really registered. "Sensing my frustration and anger, Azrael then asked his question about the Knights of Seiros to redirect the attention to him, and that's how we learned that priest had impressive aim." Now that I thought about it, I think we actually stole one or two of those books. I'd have to check Azrael's things.

"I see." Dimitri chuckled and finally finished off his tea. It had to be terribly cold, but he didn't seem to mind. "I must admit that when I asked that question, I didn't expect…"

"I should have made up something, shouldn't I?" I pointed to the pot, silently asking if he wanted more, but he shook his head. "We never had much interaction with the Church, though. Dad avoided them, and Azrael and I were never interested."

"Do you believe in the Goddess?" Dimitri paused and then coughed, coloring for some reason. "That sounded… I'm genuinely curious. Dedue doesn't. Or, at least, just believe in Her. Duscar had many gods, and considered Fodlan's Goddess as a protector of… well, Fodlan."

"That sounds interesting. I wonder if he'd be willing to tell me more one day. Petra is teaching me about Brigid when there's time." And the language. That first lesson had been too much fun, and Petra was just plain ecstatic about talking about her home. "I think the best way to answer, though, is that I've never thought about it one way or another."

"Really?"

"I was always too busy learning about the world around us, truthfully. When I wasn't fighting, that is." I closed my eyes, remembering things like watching a whale breach the surface of the water off the northern coast. Watching butterflies flit and dance about bright flowers. The beautiful songs and laughter that drifted far and wide during festivals… "Everything is chaotic, and some days, you wonder if there is any point in anything. But when you learn, when you look, you find all sorts of wonderful, beautiful things in this world." I thought of the people of Remire, of Madeline and Crystal and Nicole and Malcolm and Richard and Sera and… and everyone, really. "As a mercenary, I saw a lot of the ugliness the world has to offer, so I made a bit of an effort and…" And I was rambling like Azrael. "Ah, I'm sorry. I must be boring you."

"No, not at all." He sounded sincere enough, and when I opened my eyes to look at him, I saw he was smiling radiantly at me. It was the brightest smile I'd seen him wear. "I actually rather like that." He chuckled, but this time, there was humor in it. Thank goodness… "And after all of that, I still can't quite wrap my head around that mental link you mentioned. But I suppose I don't really need to, do I? It's just something you two have, like my strength."

"That's probably a good way to think of it." And it actually made me consider something I hadn't before. Was that link because we were twins with Crests? "We're two very strange people, my twin and I."

"Nothing wrong with that. I rather like you." He paused for some reason. "Both. I rather like you both."

"I figured that's what you meant?" Now I was confused. Sothis, meanwhile, was sighing and laughing at the same time. Somehow. "What else could there have been?"

"Er… well…"

"Excuse me, Professor?" Dedue suddenly interrupted with a knock on the door. At first, I wondered why he'd need to see me, but… "Is His Highness here?" But then I remembered he'd probably been looking for Dimitri.

"I am, Dedue," Dimitri answered for himself. He smiled at me and stood, bowing formally to me. "I thank you for the tea, and the conversation, Professor. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, a great deal," I reassured. After all, it was true. I always felt better if I had company after a nightmare. "Thank you."

"For what?" He sounded confused. "I don't recall doing anything of note?"

"Well, for one, you cleaned up for me." I would've left it until the morning. Or Azrael would've dealt with it. "For another, I… dislike being alone after a nightmare." Sure, I had Sothis now, but he didn't know that. And his presence had been soothing. Grounding. It wasn't like I'd ever dreamed of him, after all. "And, thirdly, you checked on me when you thought something was wrong. All of that deserves thanks, in my opinion."

"Ah." He blushed and coughed, looking away in embarrassment. "Well, I'm glad to be of assistance, Professor."

Dimitri left then, with the only pause being Dedue insisting on properly greeting and bowing to me. Really, everyone here bowed far more than I was used to. Then again, I grew up with Dad who never bowed to anyone until we came here. So, I supposed it was only natural it felt weird. Still, if I could somehow get them to stop, that would be great. Maybe I'd discuss it with Azrael when he came over. I knew he was on the way, after all.

---

"Oh, wow, look at all the elseen blooming!" Ashe gushed, eagerly skipping along the side of the path to look at the pale yellow blossoms. He paused when he realized what he was doing and coughed, ducking his head in a very poor attempt to hide his embarrassed blush. "Um… sorry, Professor, I…"

"Good eye for spotting them, since they can be difficult to recognize at this time of year," I praised, stopping everyone so that I could harvest a few. I brought baskets specifically for this reason. "Do you know what they're used for primarily?"

"Lonato said its often used to help with non-productive coughs and sore throats." He lifted his head, practically vibrating with excitement and pride. He adored his adoptive father. I wondered if I'd ever get to meet him. "They're normally characterized by a deep orange-yellow color, but they won't turn that color until the Blue Star Moon."

"The leaves are also very useful for bandaging small wounds." I stood up and ruffled his hair without thinking about it. He beamed at me. "Good job. Did everyone hear that or should I repeat it?"

After two days stuck in a classroom, I decided the third day should be for something more outdoorsy. Focus on things that were just better to learn by actually taking a hike and looking around. Like local herbs and their medicinal properties. Ashe ended up helping me a lot with it, thanks to the knowledge he had from his adoptive father. Which was nice because I was sure hearing the information from someone who resembled an eager puppy was much more fun than hearing it from me. And it also let me focus more on where we were so that we didn't get ourselves lost. I had more than one 'lesson' planned for today, after all.

"Ah, here we are," I murmured once we finally reached my planned destination. It was a lake hidden by a grove a trees, one that the knights frequently used to mess around and have fun once the summer hit. Dad had told me about it. "So, this is where we begin the main lessons for the day." I set my basket on the ground and turned to face everyone. "Half of you will be learning how to swim. The other half will be practicing how to climb."

"...Uh, Professor, why teach us either of those?" Hilda asked, after the class stared at me for a very long moment. I supposed they never considered either important. "And if we're swimming why did we hike all the way out here? Why not just use the pond at the monastery?"

"Kitchen staff requested that we not do so, because they're fishing today." I had, of course, asked them first. The staff seemed touched that I had thought to ask at all. "As for why? You'd be surprised how many times both skills are useful."

"How so?"

"For swimming, a common tactic when you're fighting near a body of water is to throw your enemy into said water. I have seen many drown because they didn't know how to swim." Of course, between the hecticness of battle and how quiet drowning was, you often didn't realize anyone was in trouble until it was far too late. "As for climbing, few people think to look up, so if you ever need to hide or plot an ambush, climbing is fairly useful. Then sometimes, you need to climb because someone decided to set the entire field on fire. Swimming is useful for escaping flames as well." I realized around then that I should probably dangle a little 'treat' for the class, since it had been a bit of a hike to get here. "Besides, since we're doing a lot of physical work this morning, you're excused from afternoon classes. I don't want you to overwork yourselves." Well, that certainly perked a few of them up. "Unlike usual, we won't be switching halfway through, but you'll switch on a different day. So, split up into two halves and keep them even."

"Professor?" Petra called, raising her hand to make sure she had my attention. She skirted around a couple of her fellows, who were splitting into their respective halves, to stand right in front of me. "In Brigid, we have much teach… um…" She paused, thinking. "We have many teachings in climbing and swimming."

"That so?" I asked, not completely surprised. Based on what she told me, particularly of the geography of Brigid, it was easily believable. Still… "Do you mind showing me?" I looked around, thinking of how best to go about it, but soon got distracted by a ridiculously beautiful flower way up in one of the trees. "...Get me one of those, will you?" I pointed to one of the blossoms, specifically one of the higher ones. All of them were a pretty blue, but the ones in the highest branches were speckled like the night sky. ...Though, no, I couldn't ask a student to… "No, never mind. How about-?"

"I shall return!" Petra was off before I could try to suggest something else. In what seemed like a handful of blinks, she had scurried up the tree, claimed a flower, and returned. "The fruit of the labor!" She presented it to me with a smile. I smiled back a little and took it. "It is a beautiful flower. What is its name?"

"I'm not sure. I'll have to look it up." For now, it went into my basket with the other plants. "You are definitely skilled at climbing, though. Better than me, easily." Petra flushed from the praise, grinning. "So, do you mind helping your classmates? That'll let me focus on helping others learn swimming."

"It would be my pleasure!" She immediately went to the trees, inspecting them for good ones to climb. I watched for a moment, making sure no one gave her a hard time, before turning to the lake and counting how many I had for swimming. I really did want these groups to be even. Felt like it was the only way to keep things 'fair'.

"Um… Professor?" Edelgard crept to my side as I finished counting, strangely timid. "I… uh… don't know how to swim," she mumbled, looking at what had to be the most interesting bit of dirt in existence, based on the intensity of her stare. "I can't… um…" She fidgeted, a flush creeping up her face and down her neck. "I can't swim. At all."

"Well, that's what lessons are for," I answered, not sure why she was so embarrassed. Did she think it was a failing or something? Or did she just not like admitting it? Or was she afraid? "Everyone has things they can and can't do." I held out my hand to her. "Stay near me in the water. I'm guessing you have no idea where to begin?"

"None." She timidly took my hand, and I made sure to hold it gently but firmly. "This is something I have to learn?"

"In your case, most definitely. If someone wanted to assassinate you, they could just throw you into a lake." I wished I could take back the words when she shuddered. "I'm right here, though. I won't let anything happen to you." She might have trouble believing the words, but I would live up to them anyway. "First step, after we all stretch, is to get into the water."

Edelgard had to walk in slowly, and I had to wonder if this fear was tied to trauma in the past. But if it was, she refused to tell me, so all I could do was support her as best as I was able and reassure her that she was fine. She was safe. I wasn't sure if she felt any better when it became clear almost everyone else who picked swimming had the basics down, but I half-expected something like that. For something like this, most would pick the one they were more comfortable with, after all. So, I had them set up in an area of the lake that was shallow enough that most could tiptoe across the bottom if they needed to, and do some laps. Then, keeping one eye on them, I helped Edelgard learn how to swim.

"I don't understand how anyone can like this," she muttered, clinging tightly to my hands as she bobbed in the water. When Dad taught Azrael and me, the first thing he had us do was get used to the idea of floating in the water. And putting our face in the water, but one thing at a time. "I feel like I'm not even in control of my own body."

"You didn't feel that way either when you first learned how to walk," I replied, stepping back to keep a better eye on the swimmers. And to make sure Sylvain didn't focus so much on showing off for the ladies that he tired himself out and get into a bad situation. Because he was definitely showing off, given the speed he was going at. "You wobbled and shook, but soon learned how to stand, and then how to walk."

"I was a toddler when I learned how to walk, though."

"Do you suddenly stop learning new things just because you're no longer a toddler?" I squeezed her hands, a reassurance that I was right here. "Once you're used to floating and being in the water, that is when you learn how to move through it. Just as you first learned to stand, and then walk. And I promise you won't swim headfirst into a rock. I picked this lake for that reason."

"...Into a rock?" She frowned at me, torn between her discomfort and her curiosity. "That's seems a little specific."

"When Dad first let me swim on my own, it had been in a river and I didn't see a giant rock under the water and nearly cracked my skull open." I'd been so confused that I hadn't even realized I'd been bleeding at first. Meanwhile, Dad had freaked out at the blood in the water. And Azrael had kept complaining about how his head felt like an over-rung bell. "I'd rather none of you experience something like that."

"That…" After a moment, Edelgard chuckled and then outright laughed. "I'm sorry, but that's just…!"

"When I get around to showing you all fishing, I'll tell you the story of how Azrael and I nearly ended up dragged down a river because he caught a giant fish and neither of us had the sense to let go of the rod." The stories were a little embarrassing, but it was all in good fun. I had learned from teaching Richard, Sera, and Malcolm that sharing stories like this helped them not feel quite so incompetent when they made a mistake. "Do you feel a little more relaxed?"

"I… actually, I do." She was surprised by that. Surprised, but pleased. "I still don't like feeling like the water is controlling me, though."

"Dad had to trick Azrael into imagining it more like a hug in order to get him into the water at all." Azrael hated feeling chained. It was the wind in him. "Maybe think of it like that, or a particularly heavy set of blankets? That might help you relax further. It's better to not be so tense when-"

Right then, a loud yelp nearly stopped my slow-beating heart, and I jerked towards the shore to try and figure out what had happened. It only took a blink to figure it out, though. Claude had slipped while climbing, and the yelp had been because of his falling. He wasn't injured, though. Somehow or another, Dimitri ended up catching him before he hit the ground. Thank goodness...

"My hero~!" Claude exclaimed, hugging Dimitri around the neck as if he were a princess just saved from a monster. Dimitri just rolled his eyes. "Such the dashing prince in shining armor to come to my rescue!" Dimitri opened his mouth, no doubt to protest the praise. But then there was another yelp and down came Hilda. Dimitri quickly shifted Claude to one arm and caught Hilda in the other. "Hey, Hilda, he's my prince charming! Get your own!"

"Claude, you should learn to share!" Hilda protested, laughing. I half-wondered if she'd 'slipped' on purpose. "But thank you so much, Prince Dimitri!" Amusingly, Hilda also hugged Dimitri around the neck. "I'm super lucky that you were here!"

"And that he's strong enough to hold us both!" Claude winked. "Do I really have to share?"

"Pretty please?"

"Well…"

"You two are ridiculous," Dimitri sputtered, dropping both of them as if that would hide how terribly red his face had become. Next to me, Edelgard had to fight off snickers. "But you two are lucky, I suppose. I was here to help someone else." He looked up at the tree, and I saw Mercedes was slowly making her way up. "Well, my ability to catch you if you fall, Mercedes, was just proven, so I hope you feel more secure."

"I felt secure anyway knowing you were helping, but I am especially grateful now, Dimitri," Mercedes answered with a kind smile. And half a second later, her foot slipped on a branch and she fell. "Ah!" But Dimitri caught her easily and set her on the ground. "Darn, I'd hoped to climb a little higher. I suppose I need to try again?"

"Perhaps when Petra is done helping Dedue."

"Wow, they're both up high!"

"I'll say they are!" Claude commented, leaning on Dimitri's shoulder. Hilda leaned on Mercedes's back, hugging her even. "I guess being a giant can help with climbing?" He had a bit of a point there. Dedue could reach branches others couldn't, and that let him scale the trees easily, especially with Petra recommending branches for him to use. "Yo, Dedue, Petra, snag some flowers while you're up there! I'm sure Teach will appreciate it!"

"...Well, while he's not wrong on that, I do wonder if he's plotting something," I commented. Edelgard laughed outright. "I'll deal with that later. Let's continue with the lesson here. I need to have the others switch out before-"

"Hmm? Now what is this?" Ferdinand suddenly asked, distracting me again. I looked over and just closed my eyes when he tugged a rope swing down from one of the branches that hung over the water. Dad had warned me about that, so I'd hiked out late yesterday to put it up, but apparently, not well enough. "Why is a rope here?"

"That is a thing that you all can play around with later, so please, tuck it back up." I leveled an unamused look at Caspar, since he was eagerly reaching for it. "Anyone who messes around with the rope swing will run a hundred laps around the monastery's full grounds. Two hundred if you try to do so without supervision."

Well, that threat certainly worked. I think every single student, even those who hadn't been contemplating the swing, stiffened and whimpered from the idea. And certainly no one balked at anything else I said the whole morning. I wasn't sure how to feel about that.

---

I had another reason for wanting to give my students the afternoon off besides giving them time to rest. Namely, I wanted to examine the 'standard equipment' the academy provided for missions. One's armor and weapons played a major role on whether or not one lived or died during a battle. So, I wanted to see just what we were working with. But, when I saw it, I… well, I… well, first, I had to double-check that I was in the right warehouse. Then I had to check that I was looking at the right things. And with both confirmed, I...

"I don't think I have ever sensed such disgust and frustration from you that didn't also involve some sort of heartbreak," Azrael noted, coming up behind me in the warehouse. I wasn't surprised the emotions piqued his curiosity since he was right. "...What the hell is that?" He knelt down next to me, and poked the chestplate I held up. "I think we salvaged better stuff after fighting bandits."

"This… this is what they give students to go fighting," I answered. The sheer level of shock and skepticism I felt from him nearly sent me to the dusty floor. "I know Seteth mentioned that students going on missions like this was highly unusual, but…"

"I… suppose it would work? If it had to?" Azrael tried to cheer me up, but once the shock faded, anger replaced it. Anger on my behalf, because he knew how much I worried. And now I was worrying even more. "Let's go to Dad. Surely this has come up before."

It took Azrael a little more cajoling, mostly because I automatically tried to soften his anger by pointing out that the equipment wasn't bad necessarily. It just… wasn't up to either of our standards. It worked enough that Azrael didn't go grumbling curses the entire time to the Captain's office, where Dad was. Just take forever explaining to Dad what the problem was due to insults. Dad's response was a bit unusual, though. Instead of immediately reassuring us, he had us follow him up to the third floor. And down a couple of hallways.

"Lady Rhea," he called, knocking on what seemed to be a random door. The only thing of note about it was that it was on the opposite side of a balcony door. "Do you mind pausing in your attempts to eat your weight in sweets to confirm something for me?" ...Given their previous interactions, I would not have expected Dad to talk to her like that. At all. I also didn't really understand why we were going to Rhea and not, say, Seteth for this.

"Jeralt, must you insist on teasing me?" I also-also wouldn't have expected Rhea to poke her head out of the room with a distinct sulk, but that also happened. Azrael and I actually glanced at each other the confirm we were witnessing the same thing. "I do not eat that many sweets," she protested. "It isn't even close."

"I distinctly remember otherwise, but neither here nor there." Dad nodded to Azrael and me. Rhea immediately stopped sulking, but surprisingly, didn't try to look calm or dignified either. She actually looked… relaxed. Maybe it was because she wasn't wearing her headdress for once. "Byleth is looking at equipment for her students, and Azrael said that it's not up to the standards I accidentally taught them to have."

"I remember you complaining about the standard equipment when you first joined the knights, so I am not surprised." Rhea clasped her hands in front of her, frowning. "What is it that you wanted to confirm?"

"Does the Academy still have the agreement with Liam and Noah? Or whoever is running their establishments nowadays?"

"I believe they both retired and their children run the establishments, but yes, the agreement is still there. Though, I think the smithy is closed for the next few months. Seteth mentioned something about a baby."

"Huh. Little Grace got married, then? Hard to imagine." Dad frowned when Rhea seemed confused. "...Lady Rhea, how long has it been since you snuck out to the market?" Rhea didn't answer. Instead, she simply looked away, almost sheepishly. "You're overdue. Get your cloak."

And that was how we somehow ended up in the market with Rhea (who wore a hooded cloak to hide). And with Flayn, because Flayn tagged along at some point. I wasn't sure when or how that was decided. I think she might have just walked out with us and no one questioned it. It was all really baffling, and my own confusion was only heightened by Azrael's. Really, our confusion kept bouncing off each other and echoing until it was all either of us could feel or pay attention to.

"You know…" Azrael finally began, trying to find something else to focus on. Otherwise, we were both going to be drowning in our collective confusion. It happened sometimes, when we were feeling the same thing. "While we're out here…"

"No, we're not going to the bookstore, Azrael," Dad refused flatly. He even made sure to give Azrael the stern-Dad-look-of-unamusement to emphasize the words. Azrael, as usual, didn't pay attention. "We're here to help your sister."

"I could help her get some more books."

"I said 'no'."

"Oh, there is a bookstore here?" Flayn asked excitedly, grabbing Azrael's arm. Even her eyes sparkled. "I have been searching for some books, but Tomas said that they weren't kept in the library."

"Well, let's see if Miriam has some!" Azrael suggested with a cat-like smile. The sheer mischief I sensed from him was nearly enough to overwhelm me. "I think it's this way!"

"Yes, let us away!"

Before Dad could catch either of them, Azrael and Flayn disappeared into the crowd. Dad, of course, chased after them. Which left me awkwardly alone with Rhea. In the middle of a crowded market. Damn it all, Azrael. He'd better get me a very good book.

"Goodness…" Rhea murmured. At first, I thought she was miffed, but then I noticed her trying to muffle quiet laughter. "Well, I hope Flayn finds what she's looking for."

"That store seemed to have everything, so I'd assume so," I answered, not really sure what to say to that. Or say at all, really. But I felt like I should say something… of all the times for Sothis to insist on being quiet… "Ah, my students expressed interest in visiting Remire."

"Did they?" She smiled faintly. I barely saw it through the shadows of her hood. "That sounds delightful. I'm sure we can arrange for you to visit sometime next week. Perhaps a Saturday or Sunday?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." I… I didn't think it would be that easy for me to get permission. I mean… I was a hostage. Then again, it wasn't like I could really run off if I was bringing my students with me. "Thank you."

"Of course." And we lapsed back into silence, just walking along the street. Not saying a word, no matter what we passed. Based on what I sensed from Azrael, there was no chance of anyone coming to rescue us from this awkwardness anytime soon. "Oh…!" However, all of a sudden, Rhea stopped by a merchant's stall to admire their wares: various trinkets. It took me a moment to realize they were hair ornaments; they were more intricate than I was used to seeing. "This would look lovely in…" She trailed off and, after a moment, she turned away, looking strangely sad. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't treat you as I did Fiona. You're two different people, no matter how much alike you look."

"Alois mentioned she had been your assistant?"

"Indeed, but she was more than that as well. To me, she was like family." We continued walking down the street, and though Rhea's gaze was unfocused, she didn't miss a single step or bump into a single person. "She was an orphan who was given to the monastery. There were many like that, back then, thanks to food shortages and monster attacks. So, I knew her for most of her life."

"She must've been very young then." I wondered if Rhea was another who had been 'given to the monastery'. Would certainly explain why she sounded like she was talking around something. More than one something, actually. "Alois told me some stories. Like how half the monastery was in love with her, but she only had eyes for Dad." Not sure why I went with that 'story' out of the ones he told me. Maybe because it was the most amusing one to me?

"She'd always deny it, but I'd swear she fell in love with Jeralt at first sight." Rhea muffled a laugh, her eyes bright with quiet mirth. And yet there was a distinct blanket of sadness to them as well. "Jeralt, of course, remained oblivious to it. Some days, I wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him."

"Huh. I never noticed." Then again, since I avoided crowds, I supposed it would be more surprising if I had. "But she eventually won him over."

"Indeed. I officiated the wedding. Never was there a more beautiful bride… I think I still have some of the portraits painted of that day. I should look…" All at once, the sadness… no, the sorrow shrouded all her other emotions. "They were painful to look at, after she died."

"I'm sorry." The more I heard, the more guilty I felt. Azrael and I… we killed her. I killed her. And she was… "I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's fine. I should try to remember her. Otherwise, she truly will be lost to us." She smiled kindly at me, but she also seemed lonely. "Still, I can't help but wish you got to meet her yourself. It's too easy to imagine her reactions to the stories."

"Like what?"

"Hmm? Well, she flustered easily, so-"

"Aha! I found you!" All of a sudden, Flayn appeared from nowhere, and I nearly set her on fire out of shock. She didn't seem to notice at all, though, as she giggled and took Rhea's hand in hers before dragging her off. "There is a bakery down this way," she happily explained, disappearing into the crowd. I could only stare, and my confusion only intensified when I saw Azrael pass me with barely a backward's glance. They… uh… either we walked in silence for longer than I'd thought or… "There is this treat that…" From there, the crowd's own chatter swallowed her words. What in creation just happened?

"...I didn't think mentioning sweets would have that sort of effect on her." Dad walked up to me, carrying a basket full of books. He hadn't been able to stop Azrael in time, then. Must've been walking longer than I'd thought. "She mentioned that Lady Rhea is like family to her, so I think she's excited to be able to run around and spend an afternoon with her," he explained. Except I didn't really get it. "The Archbishop can't exactly run around in the market."

"If you say so," I replied, since I didn't really understand. Unless people might get all stiff and stand on ceremony? If that was the case, then just spending time would be awkward, wouldn't it? "Did he get me anything?" Dad pulled out two books, and nodded to the three underneath. All five were of different topics, based on what I could see of the titles. "Oh, interesting… but the armory comes first."

"I'm glad I taught one of you to keep your priorities straight."

Deciding to just go ahead and keep to task, Dad and I made our way to the armory. It wasn't very hard to find, though wading through the crowd to get inside rubbed my nerves raw. I was sure I left bruises on Dad's arm from where I clung, but he didn't even twitch. He just let me cling, and let me keep close until we were finally inside. It was… surprisingly empty inside, though. I was grateful, certainly, but it was surprising.

"Most sales are done outside, at a stall," Dad explained softly. He raised a hand in greeting when a young man stepped out from the back, marked off by a dark curtain. "People only come in when they need special orders done."

"Which is why I speak directly to the customers who come in," the man laughed, waving us forward to a counter. He had a kind smile, but there was something… well, his shirt was rumpled, like someone had been clinging to it, and he had a stained cloth draped absently over one shoulder. Hectic. That was the word I wanted. There were something hectic about him. "Welcome, my name is-"

"He knows who you are, kid," a grouchy, crackling voice growled. It was accompanied by a large, sturdy looking man stepping out from behind the back curtain, with an almost comically small baby nestled against his shoulder. The man looked over both of us before settling his hard eyes on Dad. "Jeralt, you old bastard, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Father, they're customers!"

"And I know Liam well enough to know that's how he talks to friends, Taylor," Dad immediately reassured. He was actually laughing, though he tried to bite it back. "I'm here because my daughter doesn't like the standard equipment at the Academy."

"Glad someone up there has a lick of sense," 'Liam' scoffed. However, his worn face finally cracked with a smile. "This must be your little girl. Looks like she took after her mother, lucky girl."

"Both she and Azrael took after Fiona, yes." Dad stopped trying to bite back his laughter, especially given how confused 'Taylor' looked. "I met you when you were baby. Though, it seems you have a baby of your own now?"

"Would you believe he somehow won Grace's heart?" Liam laughed, a booming sound that surprisingly didn't startle the baby he held. "Noah and I were laughing for weeks. He'll be surprised to hear you're back around."

"Ah, so I'm guessing that's the shared grandchild, then?"

"Yes, this is Mateo. Or Matty, as we're calling him."

"I suppose we should leave them to catch up," I whispered, finally walking up to the counter. Taylor still looked confused. "Hello, I'm Byleth Mikayla Eisner. I'm a professor at the Academy and Dad brought me here to talk about some deal you have?"

"Ah, yes, that!" Taylor yelped, focusing on me. He ducked under the counter for a moment before bringing out a diagram. "The best way to describe it is that we tiered our products and each tier has a set price for the whole set. Now, this is just for armor. Weapons are bought at a discount, but on an individual basis."

"I see." I looked over the diagram, noting that they weren't just 'tiered', but categorized. "I take it each category is for a specific type of fighting style?"

"Broadly, yes. There's more categories for the higher tiers because those are much more specialized. But when you're starting out, and you're still just learning the basics, then you're more suited for basic gear."

"Ah, so this also helps the students decide what type of armor they should get." I liked that a lot. Particularly since it let the students choose. They needed to be able to tell quality for themselves, after all. "My students are just starting out, so…"

"This first tier here will be what they're looking at, then. As the year goes on, and they get stronger, they can buy better gear." Taylor chuckled. "Still, you're certainly being an early bird, getting them armor now."

"...Sadly, if anything, it's late." I tried to not let my bitter worry drown me. But it was hard. "The knights are doing what they can, but by the end of the moon, we'll no doubt be sent out to deal with bandits."

"Already?" Taylor frowned. "I don't like the sound of that…" That made two of us. "Then yes, we'll want to get them into some good armor as soon as possible. Bandits are untrained, but they're not foolish. You should never underestimate them."

"Precisely." I could only hope I could press that into them before it was time… "So, how much are things? Also..." I pointed to the cloth on his shoulder. "Why do you have that?"

"Huh? Oh." Taylor's face turned pink and he quickly, sheepishly even, pulled it off of him. "It's a cloth to… well, babies can spit up when you burp them."

"Ah." Well, that explained the stains then. "So, the cost? And how long will it take to get things ready?"

"Yes, so… hang on, I'll get paper and ink. Math is much easier when I write it down first."

It didn't take long at all to not only get everything priced, but also set up for some to be set aside for my students to be fitted with during the next few days. Dad and Liam chatted the whole while, with baby Mateo fast asleep on his grandfather's shoulder, though Liam only let Dad leave after promising to meet for drinks later in the week. Dad agreed, though he hastily reassured me that it wouldn't be too many. I remained thoroughly skeptical, and Azrael was equally skeptical when we picked him, Rhea, and Flayn up from the bakery and I informed him of what happened. Especially when Dad hastily changed the subject. We'd have to have a talk about that later. As it was, though, we all had to go our separate ways when we returned to the monastery. Especially since Seteth had apparently been running around looking for both Flayn and Rhea. I sort of just… left them to deal with that. I certainly wasn't going to.

"Ah, Professor, there you are!" Besides, I had people looking for me as well. Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude all met me when I stepped onto the lawn in front of the dorms. "We've been looking for you," Dimitri explained as they crowded around me. "Some of the others were wondering how free-form Friday's class would be, since you mentioned it would be sharing stories."

"I figured we'd try to relax as much as possible, though if you want to take notes, I certainly won't stop you," I answered. I hadn't really 'planned' on anything. Not even the topic, though I remembered Claude had been curious about the fey. "So long as we don't bring Seteth's wrath on us, I don't have any rules."

"Is that so?"

"Great! Sounds like it'll be fun!" Claude cheered, grinning. He put his hands behind his head, the picture of relaxation, save for the sharpness of his gaze. "Anyway, Teach, where have you been? We couldn't find you anywhere!"

"Claude, you don't need to be rude," Edelgard scolded. Despite the words, though, her gaze was also searching, trying to discern the answer to whatever questions she had. "Our teacher is allowed to relax."

"Oh, so you think Teach went out on a date? A secret rendevous~?"

"I-I said nothing of the sort!" Edelgard scowled, but also blushed for whatever reason. Dimitri facepalmed, also for some reason. "Must someone go on a date in order to relax?"

"Well, no, I suppose not, but since she did give us the afternoon off…~"

"Why would that have anything to do with anything?" I asked, now just confused. By multiple things, actually. For one thing, why in creation would they think someone would be so desperate for company that they'd date me? "I thought you all would be tired of staying indoors and the change of scenary would help keep you motivated. But since you physically exerted yourself, I wanted you to rest for the afternoon. It's important to give your body time to recuperate and become stronger." Ah, maybe they simply found it tedious… They probably were wondering why they were stuck with someone like me…

"No, I think we all enjoyed it, and once we rested, our aches certainly told us that continuing to train would be futile at best," Dimitri immediately reassured. He was kind like that. "Claude is simply teasing Edelgard to spark a reaction." Perhaps, but… "Still, I have a feeling you were not resting as we were. Is there something we can help with?"

"Pardon? Ah, no, I was simply visiting the armory. Or… one of them." Were there multiple? I forgot to ask. "I took the opportunity to inspect the standard equipment available to you all, but I found it…" I needed a tactful way to put this. Or, at least, not a blunt insult. "They did not meet my personal standards, so I asked Dad for help. We went to the market to arrange better armor. The total cost for all of you is a little worrying, but…" I trailed off when all three of them immediately gave me 'are you serious?' looks. "What?"

"Professor, most of us are nobles. What's the individual price?" Dimitri smiled when I rattled it off. "In that case, I've enough to buy all the cubs'. Though I know from experience that some would prefer to buy their own."

"Right, so Teach, let us play the spoilt brats and handle payment instead," Claude laughed, winking. I almost protested, since I was their teacher and I was the one being a worrywart. But Claude turned to Edelgard and Dimitri before I could. "Let's go find the others and discuss who will need covering. And for people like Leonie, who hates debt, how they'll repay it."

"We can gather in the classroom," Edelgard suggested, warming to the topic. And all three acted like I'd agreed to this. "It shouldn't be hard to find everyone, right?"

They were gone before I could intervene and I could only sigh. I clearly would have to work hard to make this up to them...

---

Friday morning, while I was gathering things together to bring to the classroom, there was a knock on my door. Confused as to who might be visiting at this hour on a class day, I opened it to reveal a strangely contrite Lorenz. "Good morning, Professor," he greeted, bowing formally. I lived for the day people stopped bowing to me. "I apologize to come calling at such an early hour…"

"I've been awake for a while," I answered, inviting him in. Then I went about continuing my preparations, such as folding blankets, filling a basket with snacks, bringing a couple of books that could be used as conversation starters if need be… "I eat breakfast with Dad and Azrael, and they have to be up early for patrol."

"Ah, so that is why we never see you in the Dining Hall in the mornings." He fell silent, and I simply waited for him to get to the reason why he was here. "Professor, I wish to apologize."

"For?"

"For what you overheard, and for… for not having that essay you requested." He bowed his head, ashamed. So, I bit back my automatic response of 'I totally and completely forgot about that'. "While my thoughts might have come from a noble place, the words themselves were not and so, I could not find anything to write that did not sound as trite rubbish."

"I see." Time to pretend I was not surprised by things. "Well, it seems the assignment served its purpose anyway, so I believe we can forgive the lack of a physical essay. The point was, after all, to make you stop and think." I finished folding a blanket and then turned to face Lorenz. "However, would you mind if I told you why your words angered me? I fear there are personal reasons among those whys, but perhaps…"

"Ah, if you are willing, then I will gladly listen."

"Thank you." Still, I didn't want him to stand around. That would be awkward. Yet my chairs were all filled with things. "Do you mind picking out some teas from my stash?"

"I would be more than happy to." He waited for me to point out where it was, before rather happily going through. "My, such refined tastes! Though, I do not recognize a few…"

"Those are probably the personal mixes. You can ignore those." That reminded me. I needed to swing by the kitchens to pick up those tea sets the staff was letting me borrow. "To start with the personal reasons, Lorenz, is that I have heard similar things over the years myself. Things like 'you shouldn't have ever come' or even 'why did someone like you have to be alive?'."

"Why would someone say…?" Lorenz paused, thinking his words over carefully. "I certainly can see the connection between what I said and that last bit, but that last bit you mentioned is still…"

"...Mercenaries are not well liked." Best to simply leave it at that. There was no reason to talk about my being a monster right now. "But you are right. No one has a right to tell someone they shouldn't be alive. When I heard something so similar, I could not simply be silent."

"Of course." Lorenz pulled a few boxes of tea down from my shelf. "I do not believe there are many who could hold their tongue."

"But more than that, Lorenz, and beyond my selfish reasons…" How to word this… "I don't expect everyone in this cohort to like each other. With so many different personalities and backgrounds, that would nearly be impossible. But one must have respect for each other, if there is to be any chance of surviving on the battlefield while fighting side-by-side."

"I would never let my emotions overtake my duty, Professor."

"Are you so certain? You already admitted that your emotions let you speak and act in a manner you dislike." I paused to give him time to reply, but there was only silence. "No matter how logical someone thinks they are, emotions can and do influence how one thinks and acts. It is impossible to fully separate one's feelings, unless you wish to tear out your soul. But emotions, by nature, are illogical. They could lead you, for instance, to pay more attention to Claude in a battle, to discern some clue for being a supposed 'fraud', and then you do not watch your own back. Or you do not cover for someone who needed it more. And you could even justify that emotional decision with logic."

"I… think I understand, Professor. At least, I believe I understand enough to think more on your words." That was good enough for me. "Would you permit me to explain my own reasons? The place where those words came from?"

"Of course."

"My thanks." He took a deep breath, steeling himself for some reason. "I'm sure you're aware, but the Alliance values independence above all else. As such the political climate is always in a delicate balance, where the Sovereign Duke's duty is to keep personal and political motivations in check for the good of all. Duke Riegan is unable to do so, and House Daphneal stepping down from the ruling houses for House Edmund made things even more precarious, particularly since Lady Judith still holds an immense amount of political power despite this. Then Claude showed up out of nowhere."

"Which made everything just a whisper away from falling, I imagine."

"Precisely. That is already bad enough, since it is a noble's duty to provide stability and prosperity to their people. But then Claude's attitude is…" He paused again, this time trying to find what word he wanted. "Frustrating. It is beyond frustrating."

"Because he acts so different?" I looked up from my basket to see his reaction. All he could do was nod. "Is it really a bad thing for him to be different? Different approaches to the same goal can often open up paths that no one would find alone."

"But that would involve communication, when Claude seems incapable of doing." Well, I wasn't sure demanding answers was the way to go, but I could see where his frustration was. Claude hid quite a lot. "Is it a game to him? Is he taking things seriously? It is impossible to tell, and when you do ask, he plays it off like a joke!" Lorenz colored when he realized he was yelling. "I… I must apologize again."

"Why? While the scolding that day was for you, that doesn't mean Claude doesn't have things to improve on. But perhaps instead of focusing on his past, which he is not inclined to tell anyone for whatever reason, you focus on who he is now. After all, no matter how he acts, I think he does take things seriously." A thought occurred to me then. A way that might help… maybe? "Perhaps you might ask his opinion on an incident that's happening in the Alliance. Something like what you may discuss at the conferences and the like."

"That…" Lorenz was surprised and he thought a long while before nodding. "That… might work. I shall think on it, along with everything else."

"That's all I ask, truly. That, and try to show respect to each other." I might have elaborated, but there was another knock on my door, despite it being half-open. "Yes?"

"Goooood morning, Professor!" Hilda half-sang, slipping inside. A sleepy, yawning Marianne trailed after her, reluctantly. "I was wondering if Marianne and I could use a bit of your perfume!"

"Ah, yes, you may," I answered, surprised Marianne was interested. The tired look she gave Hilda hinted that Hilda… might be just putting some on Marianne whether Marianne wanted it or not. Oh dear. "Do you mind helping Lorenz carry everything to the classroom? He was kind enough to volunteer, but I fear I still need to stop by the kitchens and I don't wish to make him carry all of this." Might as well give Lorenz a good excuse for being here so early.

"Hmm? Ah, sure, but something light for delicate little ol' me, okay?"

I had her carry some of the blankets, while Marianne carried some of the baskets. Lorenz insisted on carrying whatever was heaviest, even though I was certain Hilda was stronger, but I just let him do what he wished because I really did need to get to the kitchens. Thankfully, the staff had everything set up (and even provided extra treats) for me so I just had to pick them up and carry them out after making sure to thank the staff. I'd rearranged the room yesterday evening to clear out a large space in the center of the room, so that was where I found Lorenz, Hilda, and Marianne carefully setting things up. Almost too carefully, really. It was like they had never just lounged around on pillows and blankets to relax. ...Well, actually, maybe they hadn't.

"Ah, hey there, Professor!" Dorothea called, walking in with Edelgard not long after I arrived. She carried a small basket with various things. I thought I saw a brush? "Edie said this was all free-form, so I was wondering if I could brush and play with your hair?"

"My hair?" I repeated, wondering why. I mean; I did have Dad brush my hair, but I wasn't sure why she'd want to. Still, I had no reason to refuse, so… "Sure, that's fine."

"Great!" Dorothea giggled, quick to try and muffle it. "This'll be fun!" If she said so. "Is there anything I can do to help set up?"

"If you and Edelgard can get the fire going for some tea?" I glanced at Edelgard, and she smiled in agreement. "That'll save us some time." I needed to get these tea sets organized, after all.

"You got it! Leave it to us!"

So I did, and before long, the classroom actually became a little cozy if I said so myself. Amidst the preparations, the rest of my students trickled in slowly, and I discovered almost everyone had brought something. Sweets and other treats, teas, books, pillows and blankets, and various other things that they did to relax. For instance, Felix brought along some tools for tending to blades. Ignatz shyly brought some paper and art supplies to sketch. Mercedes brought a basket full of clothing that needed to be mended. Bernadetta brought… something that she hid very quickly for fear of someone seeing. But still, she was here, so I was glad. It really did look like it was going to be a relaxing day, which was exactly what I wanted for them.

"Okay, I've been antsy for this question all week, so I'm starting!" Claude declared dramatically once everyone was sitting and situated. Dorothea hummed behind me as she brushed my hair, and I'd somehow ended up between Edelgard and Mercedes. "What are the fey?"

"That's a bit difficult to answer," Dimitri began. He looked at his fellows, to see if they wanted to speak first, before continuing. "Well, difficult and simple. In Faerghus, we believe the fey were the original inhabitants of Fodlan, who graciously allowed humans to live beside them. Magical beings who live everywhere and who take respect very seriously… and that's probably the only general statement you can make. There are many different kinds, and each kind is unique."

"That said, the respect thing is pretty big and because they're not human, expecting them to act in accordance to human values and morals is just begging to get yourself stuck among their world to dance yourself to death," Sylvain pointed out. Though a few of the others frowned at the 'dance yourself to death', the other cubs simply nodded. I'd also heard that tale a few times. "Best way to stay in their good graces is to tend to the shrines and avoid their sacred places."

"And be extra thankful when one helps you anyway." Dimitri and Sylvain shared a knowing look. Perhaps they'd been helped by some of the fey? There were stranger tales, after all. "I think a good comparison might be the guardian spirits of the Alliance, Claude. Like the golden deer?"

"I must admit that I'm surprised to hear the Kingdom believes in such things," Edelgard murmured, leaning a little towards me to give Caspar, who sat next to her, more room. Mostly because Linhardt had already fallen asleep on Caspar's shoulder. I thought about moving to make sure she had her space, but Dorothea kept me firmly in front of her. "Given the close connection to the Church…"

"The fey came before the Church, and the fey will remain long after Fodlan disappears," Dimitri whispered. It reminded me of one of the oldest 'legends' of the Kingdom. 'The fey witnessed the birth of the world, and so too, will they witness the end.' "If you're worried about reprisal, there… ah… won't be any."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"The Western Church attempted to crack down on the beliefs a couple of centuries ago, but… well…"

"Look, even those who don't believe in the Goddess refuse to disrespect the fey," Felix sighed. Like he couldn't believe he had to even explain this. "The fey will tear you to shreds and leave the pieces strewn about their fields."

"The bishop who first started the whole 'purge the fey' doctrine cut down a known sacred tree as proof of his words," Annette added softly. Though she had been sharing a blanket with Lysithea, she leaned forward a little, eagerly sharing the story. "He died the next week. And then, one by one, his fellow conspirators all died as well."

"Not to mention they suddenly had moles destroy the infrastructure of their church, which you couldn't excuse away all that easily." Felix shrugged and settled a bit more on the pillow he was sharing with Ingrid. "It's just common sense to not mess with them."

"Huh, so that's what they are," Claude murmured, actually writing everything down. He nodded sagely before glancing at Edelgard. Who frowned a little skeptically. "Hey, might as well go with the same thing I do, princess. You might not believe it, but let's just respect it and not take chances anyway."

"You must always be careful when it comes to the fey," Ashe warned. Somehow, his words implied seriousness, despite the fact that he was eagerly stuffing his face with treats. And trying to coax Marianne into eating some as well. "They don't take even accidental slights well."

"Do you have personal experience with this?"

"Me? Of course not. I leave offerings at the shrines regularly just to prove my respect." Ashe shuddered, though. "But a visiting mercenary stepped in a fairy ring once, just by accident. He lost one of his eyes when a tree branch whacked him in the face in in retaliation."

"...Lost an eye? From a branch?" Claude's eyes widened. "Yeah, uh… definitely going to just be careful. Is there a nice story involving fey?"

"Well, His Highness and the Queen were saved by a couple of fey who disguised themselves as children mercenaries," Ingrid helpfully offered. Dimitri made a face at her, before accepting a treat from Dedue. "A local noble hired people to kill them, but the fey stepped in instead, just on a whim. We always leave offerings in the shrines along that road in thanks."

"That said, I think Claude was talking more of folklore tales, not personal accounts," Dimitri sighed, nibbling on the treat. I noticed that unlike the others who happily scarfed down the food, he had… no reaction to it at all. I thought it odd, and thought it odder when I noticed Felix frowning at him. Well, frowning more than usual. "Why not share the story of the Snow Queen, Ingrid?"

"Gladly!"

Ingrid happily told the story of the Snow Queen, a tale of a kindly fey of ice who tended to those lost in the mountains, most famously the King of Lions himself. Which led to a similar story Ferdinand told us, one passed down in Adrestia. Lorenz took it upon himself then to tell the tale of the Golden Deer, and Petra shyly offered a similar tale from Brigid. Then, at some point, Mercedes commented on the braids Dorothea was putting into my hair, which somehow led to tales from the opera and...

Well, I had fun listening. I hoped my students did as well.

---

After about a week of juggling schedules, Alois and I determined that sunday would be the best day for a mock-battle with the knights. So, in the early afternoon on sunday, I led my students to the outskirts of the monastery. It took a little longer than I anticipated, mostly because everyone was complimenting each other on their new armor. I had decided 'group activities' on saturdays could wait a week. Getting them used to the armor was more important. But I didn't anticipate that they'd spend a good hour in preparations because they insisted on those compliments.

"Are you all right, Professor?" Dimitri asked, joining me on the edges of the group. I glanced over his armor, the 'basic soldier' as Taylor called it, and immediately noted how the lower abdomen wasn't as protected as the rest of the torso. Not the best of weaknesses… gut wounds are notoriously difficult to heal. "I could be wrong, but you're digging into your arms again. Last time you said it was nothing, but then your words hinted to frustration…"

"It's nothing," I replied, automatically. He smiled slightly, and I realized that I'd… well, it really was just like the last time he had asked. "If anything, I'm confused."

"About?"

"The compliments." They were still going at it too. Sylvain had complimented every girl thrice, and every guy twice, while Dorothea had done much of the same. Not that many of the others were exactly quiet. "About how they look in the armor."

"Have you never simply admired the craftsmanship of something?"

"Not of armor or anything like that." Why would I? Armor was useful, but if you were studying it, then you should be looking for weaknesses to guard against. Though, when I looked at everyone's armor, I all too easily saw where the blood would pool, or where cracks might form first… "It's just something that protects you. Certainly, it takes a great amount of skill to craft good armor, but…" You wore armor to not die. You wore armor in the hopes of surviving, and killing whoever had just tried to kill you. I could no more admire a piece of armor than I could a blade. I saw nothing beautiful in tools of battle and war.

Dimitri didn't seem to know how to fill the silence, which was fine by me since I had no idea either. Even better, though, was when the knights arrived and we could finally get started. I mostly stayed out of the planning unless specifically asked, since the whole point of this was to help my students learn how to cooperate with each other. Not how to listen to someone's orders. They were going to be 'leaders', supposedly. ...Well, not supposedly for most of them. It was hard to remember sometimes, because the thought was so ridiculous, but quite a few of my students were the heirs to the most powerful noble houses in all of Fodlan. What was the Church thinking, putting someone like me in charge of them...

Ah, it didn't matter. Or, well, it did, but not in the present. In the present, my students were in a mock-battle with knights and that was all I should focus on. Particularly since I didn't participate in said mock-battle. I felt like it wouldn't be productive to my students if I did. Instead, I stood on a nearby hill, watching and taking mental notes. And discussed things with Sothis. It wasn't like Alois was here. He'd planned to be, but a mission had called him elsewhere at the last minute.

"Good, they're using the forest to their advantage," I whispered, nodding. That said, they had sent too many of theirs north to truly turn the forest into a ruse. It was obvious to their opponents that they had the majority coming from that direction, so they were setting up to meet them. "There are ways to turn that expectation into a trap, though. Will they do that?"

["If not, you can give them a lecture on it."] Sothis's laugh filled my head. ["Still, looks like they're doing an good job. Minimal arguments from what I see… at the least, nothing that interferes with their actual objective."]

"Formations could use some work, though." The mages were much too close to the front for their lack of skill in close combat. Same for the archers. They also had some should-be frontliners too far in the back, like Hilda. Then you had the issue of some charging ahead, like Caspar and Raphael. Not that Edelgard and Dimitri were exactly 'keeping in formation' themselves. They just looked more like it, because of their fellows.

"[The childhood friend quartet know how to work as a unit, and Dedue isn't ever far from Dimitri."] For a blink, I thought I saw Sothis 'sitting' in the air next to me, kicking her legs back and forth. Then the next, she was gone. ["Hubert is, of course, watching over his dear lady, and Ferdinand's competitiveness means he's rarely far from her side either. Where is Claude, though?"]

"In the trees with the other archers." Including Leonie, who had opted for that weapon when given the option. I think me mentioning Dad chose it for her led her to pursue it a little more vigorously. "Not sure if I personally like that. Since others look to him as a leader, he needs to be more easily found."

["Particularly when there are those who already question him."]

"Yeah…" I had to wonder if any of these broken formations were due to someone else trying to assume Claude's leadership role when he couldn't be found (or trusted). While Claude still held onto said role. "Sadly, trust is something that can only come with time and courage."

["No matter how long it feels to you, many of them have only known each other for a couple of months."] That was true. The cubs were atypical because of just how many knew each other personally prior to attending the academy. Ashe was the only one with no prior connections among them. ["It shall be well, though. There are already attempts to bond with one another, and I have no doubt more opportunities will blossom."] I hoped so...

I thought about continuing the conversation, but Sothis gasped and stopped me to pay attention. I had to smile a little when I realized why. Someone had noticed that their first ruse had been seen through, so they had sent a few through the cluster of trees to the north to sneak around from behind. The knights didn't realize what had happened until they were already caught in the pincer.

["Well, well… looks like they're doing okay."] Sothis laughed, warm and bright. And proud. ["I dare say you might want to go ahead and head down. You should congratulate them."]

Despite her urging, I didn't listen immediately. After all, I knew well how quickly things could turn during a battle. But I did head down to the main field once I heard the knights surrender. It gave my students time to process that they'd won, so when I joined them, they were all squealing and jumping up and down in delight. Well, most of them. For one thing, I didn't think even an order from Edelgard would get Hubert to do either of those. For another, some were shyer than others, and were just dragged into the festivities. Like Marianne by Hilda, and Bernadetta by Caspar.

"Not bad, everyone," I praised, catching their attention. I noticed the three House Leaders were chatting with some of the knights, probably to be polite. "There's some things to work on, but you did well overall. We'll address the issues over the course of the next week, so-"

"Professor, we did it!" I… I wasn't exactly sure who said that, because it was quickly drowned out by similar words from others. And I was tackled with some hugs. Tackled straight to the ground, actually. Wasn't sure who exactly tackled me first either. It took me a moment to realize Dorothea was closest and others… well, it seemed like the whole cohort had clustered around me. Babbling about this and that.

I did my best to try and keep up with everyone, or at least answer everything I heard, but it honestly felt like they didn't need responses. Just some sort of focal point for their enthusiasm and, for some reason, that ended up being me. Not sure why. They were the ones who'd done the work and all. But I was… happy they included me anyway. I hoped it meant they thought I was doing an okay job...

---

Bernadetta von Varley

Crest: Indech (Minor)

Daughter and heir to Count Varley, who is notably reclusive. Any attempts at social interactions tends to leave her a panicked wreck, who runs off certain that the other person loathes her and wishes her harm. This reaction speaks heavily of abuse, which sadly is not uncommon among nobles with crests. Particularly female nobles.

On the surface, she is cowardly and always looking for a chance to run, but this is born from her belief that she isn't strong enough to fight and will not only die, but get others killed as well. Despite this, she's very skilled and fast, with her Crest blessing her with 'extra attacks', so to speak.

She is very skilled with her hands and pursues a wide range of creative hobbies, from painting to embroidery to writing. She is also very good at singing. However, her abysmal self-esteem (as well as the lingering trauma from her father) make it impossible for her to believe any compliments, certain that the other person is mocking her.

Ashe Ubert

Crest: None

Born the eldest of three children, his birth parents owned and ran their own restaurant, which plays a large role in why he's skilled in cooking, since he helped them out in the kitchens even from a young age. He also continued cooking for his little brother and sister after their parents died to illness, and even still insists on helping in the kitchens at Castle Gaspard after being adopted by Lord Lonato.

Fast and skilled, his damage output is highly variable due to his lack of strength. Still, his ability to sneak around gives him an advantage in setting up key shots, which means he would make a skilled assassin… if his own moral code would allow him.

His ability to sneak about was a skill he cultivated after his parents died, when he had to steal in order to make sure his siblings ate at least once a day. He hates and feels guilty over this part of his past, knowing how it was wrong but loving the smiles on his siblings' faces. His gratitude to Lonato for giving them a home is only outshone by his love and admiration for his adoptive father.

Ignatz Victor

Crest: None

Second son of the Victor family, a well known merchant family of the Leicester Alliance. He was sent to the Academy to train as a knight, which would secure more business opportunities for his parents' company, but he himself doesn't seem particularly keen on the idea. Which only adds to his low self-esteem and feelings of guilt.

His skill at noticing and remembering details, as well as a love of mathematics, make him almost impossibly accurate, even over large distances, a feat that makes up for his lack of strength. While he may not necessarily be the type to kill with one shot, this accuracy means he will always be able to support his fellows, and possibly cripple his enemies

Kind, empathetic, and optimistic most days, he does his best to support everyone around him, though sometimes to the point of self-detriment, such as giving away his food and then becoming dizzy latter due to the lack of food for himself. He's also very self-conscious and hates being late, which can lead to situations where he arrives an hour early or more for certain events… and then panic that he was actually late instead.

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Author's notes: More supports brought in and, this time, not all of them are just with Byleth. Hanneman and Manuela's C support features in that opening scene, as well as bits of Seteth's C supports with both Manuela and Hanneman. The scene with Alois has a bit of his C support with Byleth too. The scene afterwards has Linhardt's C support with Byleth, as well as Claude's, but the one in-between the two is the C support for Lorenz and Claude. Though the support itself isn't mentioned, Edelgard not knowing how to swim comes from her supports with Bernie. Petra being good at climbing and swimming is… at the very least, is mentioned in her supports with Claude and Ashe. There could be others.

In-game, the second week introduces the 'battle' mechanic for sundays and the in-universe justification is Jeralt picking out some knights iirc (mentioned when finishing up the quest he gives). Here, it's Byleth asking Alois for assistance. As far as I'm aware, the 'great fire' is never really elaborated in-game (only that Jeralt used it to escape with the player char and it was apparently huge enough that while he was officially 'missing', many didn't expect for him to actually be alive). So… uh… have some details?

I won't show classes… actually, let me rephrase. I'm not currently planning on showing the actual classes much, but I figured it was a good idea to at least show the first couple to get an idea of how things go. And it would make a few 'after class' interactions make more sense. And I thought it would be fun with showing the class's initial attempts to bond and whatnot and help supports get 'established'. (And allow for non-support interactions b/c I swear some of these chars really should've had supports)

Jeralt and Rhea's relationship isn't really fleshed out in game, mostly for understandable story reasons, but I thought it would be interesting to show a bit of their friendship. And also a bit more of Rhea just being herself and not having to 'be the Archbishop', which is what we see of her most (also for understandable reasons). Plus, the whole thing gave me a good excuse to give a story explanation for the beginner/intermediate/advanced/master seals and add some more to the town by the monastery.