Verdant Rain Moon 1180:
Fifth of the Verdant Rain Moon:
It was incredibly early into the morning, the sun had yet to arisen, when Byleth and Dedue arrived at Garreg Mach. Byleth had felt bad about leaving Salu so suddenly and rushing Dedue, but she needed to return as quickly as possible. If she were to be attacked by those masked people in her current state, she and Dedue would have no hope of surviving.
Dedue never said anything and for that she was grateful. Throughout their journey she had tried to apologize during their few breaks, but he would never let her finish and always explained that he understood. While she did appreciate his kindness, she wished he would be more selfish, which caused her to wonder if what she was feeling was similar to Dimitri when he told her that he wished she would care for herself more.
The two briefly shared their goodnights before Dedue retired to his room, but she was hesitant to enter hers. Just from being near her room she could already feel her senses being dulled, and she hated that as it meant that the archbishop was correct; Byleth needed the Sword of the Creator. Balling her fists tightly she glared at the door as if it was the one who had offended her. Her resentment grew when she realized that there was little that could do against her fate.
Taking a deep breath, she reluctantly opened the door and was hit with a wave of relief when she saw that the sword was right where she left it (still embedded in her wall). She gripped her doorknob in a death grip when she realized the feelings she was having; she despised the comfort she felt and yet it wouldn't go away. Comfort and anxiety made for a terrible combination as they rooted her to doorway and all she could do was helplessly she stare at the sword. Throughout Byleth's struggle, Sothis was quiet and Byleth hated her for that because the professor was sure that the feeling of relief was coming from Sothis.
Mustering up a scowl, was the most rebellious thing the mercenary could do as she made her way over the sword with slow and cautious steps. Once she reached the sword the scowl fell away forcing her to begin suffering in feeling a myriad of conflicting emotions. She felt a call from the sword, it was a demanding for an answer and answer she didn't know how to give nor if she wanted too. She wanted the sword. She didn't want the sword. The emotions fighting for dominance in her, only added to her frustration.
As to make everything more difficult, Sothis started to hover next to the sword. The sight of her next to the sword felt too perfect and Byleth wanted to scream out in protest but held herself back. Sothis wore an apologetic expression, but she never looked at the struggling woman and choose to give the sword her entire attention instead. Her hand hovered over the sword, but she never tried to touch it; and Byleth couldn't tell if it was because Sothis was afraid or if Byleth was the one holding back the mysterious girl.
The hesitation from Sothis only infuriated Byelth more and so with no hesitation or tenderness she grabbed the sword. It came to life with a brilliant red glow that illuminated the dark room and she struggled to swallow all the curses she wanted to yell. The sword pulsed as if it was a live and she wanted nothing more than to throw it away, and yet she couldn't. The feeling of being reunited with a missing piece of herself both delighted and disgusted her at the same time. She inhaled sharply through her noise to keep herself from finally giving in and yelling.
The sympathetic look that Sothis was giving her, almost caused Byleth to snap and so she quickly turned away from the other woman. Her nails on her, free hand, dug into her palm, and she was okay with that but hated how the sword kept her from doing the same with the other hand. An intense wave of energy bubbled beneath her skin, threatening to erupt at any moment but she had no way to release it. Tired of feeling Sothis' gaze on her back, Byleth stormed out of the room, and the cool night air did nothing to sooth her heated skin.
The peaceful stillness of the night only seems to agitate her more and she turned her gaze to the sky. Claude took comfort in the stars, and she did as well as they had once been a connection to her and Dimitri, but that night she hated seeing them shine so brightly while she felt like she was being swallowed by something. Despite feeling that the stars were mocking her, she couldn't turn her gaze away from them.
She took several sharp breaths in a failed attempt to keep her throat from constricting. It was only when her eyes started to hurt that she was finally able to tear her eyes away from the stars. Raising the sword high she was ready to throw it at the ground with all her might, but the accursed thing never left her hand as her grip remained strong on it, she felt like she had no control over her hand. She stared at the sword for a few seconds before a curse finally escaped her, along with a strangled cry.
Still clutching the sword in a death grip, she dropped to her knees. She slammed her fists several times into the ground until her knuckles bleed, but it did little to release any of the built-up energy, nor was she even aware of her pain. It was only when Sothis shouted at her to stop that she did. No thoughts filled her mind as she stared at the ground. None of Sothis' comforting words reached her.
How long she stayed like that, Byleth didn't know, all she did know was that her body cried out when she finally moved. On her feet she felt numb, not even her throbbing knuckles registered to her. Silently she raised her hand that was holding the sword and she stared at the weapon with its offending glow. Slowly her gaze settled in the direction of the Knights' Hall. Despite Sothis' form being ethereal, Byleth could feel the light touch on her shoulder, though all of the girl's words were lost on the struggling woman.
It was late; and she didn't even know if her father was awake or if he was even in his room, let alone in Garreg Mach at all; but none of that was a concern to her. She didn't make a single sound as she mindlessly walked over to the Knights' Hall. She never acknowledged the few souls that she passed on her way over, and none tried to reach out to her above a greeting.
Clutching the Sword of the Creator to her chest, she knocked on her father's door. At first, she didn't hear anything, and she felt her heart dropped, but at Sothis' insistence she knocked again, and she felt a great relief when she heard a groan. Gripping her sword even tighter, she stood on the tips of her toes, hanging onto ever complaint her father made before he opened the door.
His final complaint died upon his lips when he discovered that it was her, who dared to interrupt him. "Hey kid," he greeted with a softness that she recognized was exclusive to her and she felt some of her tension melting away. "I'm glad you are back."
She didn't return his smile, nor did she look into his eyes for long, as if almost ashamed her eyes fell to the sword. Concern filled his voice as he called out to her, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the weapon. It was only when he grabbed her shoulders that she finally looked at him.
She didn't say anything; and she couldn't tell if it was because she didn't know what to say or if she even wanted to say something in the first place. His grip only grew more intense as he begged her to say something, and yet her silence persisted. Still gripping the sword, she leaned into her father, when she realized what she wanted, his comfort. Understanding her desires very quickly, he pulled her in for a hug; and for the first time that night she felt safe and at peace.
As much as she would have liked to stay like that, she knew it wasn't enough for her father. Unwillingly, she stepped back to look at him. He kept his lips firmly pressed together and she could see in his eyes the desire to ask so many questions, but he was holding himself back. Seeing that made her feel better.
Still unable to find her voice she held up the sword as if it would explain everything. His eyes went wide as if he just noticed the sword for the first time. His eyes shinned with the desire to asks his questions, but he still didn't say anything, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that now.
It still took her some time before she finally tried to speak, but once she did, instead of words it was a strangled cry that left her lips. All at once the feelings that Dimitri had managed to suppress, the night before, hit her. Desperate for air she hastily sucked in some but it all it did was cause her to start having a coughing fit, denying her the air she badly needed but did have the benefit of halting her sobs.
Her father's gentle pats on her back had her calming down considerable and her coughing became manageable. She still held the sword in a strong grip, but she was at least able to breath easily when the coughing finally came to an end. At her father's insistence she entered his room.
Her room had been relatively bare but compared to hers if it wasn't for his mess, one could easily assume that no one had been living in his room. She did not know if the lack of stuff in his room was due to her father's personality or because of the fact he was so rarely at Garreg Mach. At the thought of her father leaving soon, left her feeling panic and her nails dug into the handle of the sword as she clung to it.
Once both were inside, he shut the door behind them, and the sound echoed loudly in the silent room. Neither said anything as he guided her to sit on his bed, but she chose to stand near it instead and he didn't say anything about that. He chose to sit on the chair at his desk and it looked like that was the first time that the chair had moved in a long while. The silence that had settled over them for awhile had started to choke her, but she couldn't find her voice to break free or even the words she would need to say. The Sword of the Creator became a lifeline she hated as she gripped it tighter, basking the room in a red glow.
"Byleth," Jeralt called. Slowly she pulled her gaze away from the sword to look at him. He so rarely called her by her name, that the few times he did were times she would give him her full attention. His face was hard and while she normally didn't like seeing such an expression from him, she was able to recognize that it wasn't directed at her. "Were you attacked?" he asked slowly in a steady tone, but she could see the fire ready to ignite in his eyes.
Gripping the sword harder, to the point that the ridges of the grip now dug into her palms, she slowly shook her head. Briefly she noticed the tension leave him, but it didn't stay away for long. The silence was quick to descend upon them again, and she knew exactly what he wanted to ask next, but it didn't make it any easier for her to find her voice.
Why was it so difficult? In the past she would have had no problems opening up. So, why was she struggling so much? Was it because of her emotions? Once upon a time, she wanted them, but now that she had them, she found them to be nothing more than a burden and wished to be free of them.
Her gaze drifted to the floor and her grip relaxed much to the hands' relief. She tried to think of what to say, but her mind was empty. She glared at the floor as if it was the one that held her thoughts captive. When still nothing came to her mind, she glanced at her father. He was gripping the back of his chair so hard that she feared he would break it, but despite that he remained silent.
Sothis floated behind her father and nodded and that seemed to be the key to unlocking Byleth's voice. "I…," she started, but her voice was so faint that she didn't know if he could hear, but she was unable to speak louder. "I hurt Aster…"
"What?" he asked in a rush as he got up, knocking his chair over in the process. "What happened?" he asked once he reached her.
A scowl formed up on her lips as she looked at her father's chest as she was unable to bring herself to look him in the eye. Why did the context matter? She hurt Aster! That was all that mattered!
"I hurt Aster!" she said louder and glared at him. He didn't seem bothered by her actions and once again requested for more information. The back of her throat burned as she continued to glare at him. There wasn't a disapproving look or even a disappointed one in his eyes, only genuine concern and she hated that. "I hurt Aster!" she nearly yelled that time.
"I heard you the first time," he said with an incredibly soft tone that did not match him. He was waving his hands wide and was making unusual gestures that she understood was an attempt to tell her to lower her volume, but she didn't care. Her glare sharped but only for a moment, before slipping away as her gaze fell to the floor. The burning in her throat grew more intense and the sharp intake of air she made did nothing to sooth it.
"I'm asking what happened?" he asked after a moment of silence.
Her eyes shot up to stare into his, and a deep scowl adored her face. "Why does that matter?" her words came out in a growl. When she saw her father's eyes widen, she realized her tone. Lowering her head, she tried to voice an apology, but her voice was snatched away by emotional turmoil. She bit her lip and struggled to not show how difficult it had become for her to breathe.
"I hurt Answer," she said to break up the silence that returned. "That's all that should matter."
He grabbed her arms in a firm grip, but it wasn't painful. She wasn't in the mood to look at him but gave in because she believed that her father deserved that at the very least. His expression was stern, but there was still the softness that she recognized was reserved exclusively for her, and it was then she realized her all her anger and arguments were pointless.
"You and I know both know damn well that you would have never done such a thing on purpose." It felt like her throat was constricting so much that she feared she would never be able to speak again. "Hell, I'm sure the prince is thinking the same thing!" Once again, she gripped the Sword of the Creator so tightly that her palms screamed out, but she ignored them. She struggled to maintain contact and her head felt so heavy.
Without warning she gasped for air when her body reached its limit. In her surprise the sword slipped through her grasps and clang loudly against the floor. For a moment she felt like time had stopped as her mind was empty of everything but the sound of the sword and the darkness that engulfed them.
Slowly everything dawned on her and it felt like she would be crushed by the weight of all her emotions and stress. A strangled cry escaped her as she broke free from her father's grasps to hug him. He didn't waste any time in encase her in his arms. So very gently he whispered her words of comfort and promised her that everything would be alright. For the first time since she touched the Sword of the Creator, she finally felt like everything was going to be okay and that she was safe.
It was only when Byleth remembered Dimitri's words about absolving her of any responsibility for the injury that she finally decided to believe her father's words, though she still wasn't completely comfortable with it. It was an issue she knew was going to need to talk to Dimitri about, and she was stuck with the awful feeling until he returned. Thanks to her dad, she was at least able to breathe a bit more easily.
The conflicting emotions made it impossible for her to sleep and so she spent the rest of her night awake; her second all nightery in a row. She felt horrible but there was little she could do about it. Teaching with no sleep would hopefully not be too difficult; she hoped it would be easier than the time she was hung over. She wasn't worried about teaching, no, what she truly feared that day was having to deal with exhaustion and be seen with walking around with the Sword of the Creator for the first time. Her only saving grace was that her senses would be back to normal.
When she held the sword in her hand it glowed a bright, obnoxious light, but when it was strapped to her hip it didn't and she was grateful for that; she wasn't sure how she would handle walking around with a glowing sword at her side. Despite the sword being far larger than any sword she normally wore it wasn't heavy; a blessing to some but a curse to her as she despised the fact that it felt right to have it at her side. Before she left the comfort of her room, she stole a glance at herself in the mirror and she was grateful to at least feel ridiculous for having a comically large sword strapped to her waist.
A good thing about not getting any sleep was that she was the first in the Dinning Hall. She was able to finish her breakfast and slip away before the hall could be become crowded. Hiding away in her classroom she was able to ensure that her morning would be free from the excitement of the sword.
She struggled with where to put the sword once she was in her classroom. There was no way she could keep it attached to her the entire time she taught, it would just get in the way, and she didn't want it to be seen by students as she was sure it would be a distraction. But she didn't know how far she could be away from the sword before her senses heightened; and even though she knew she needed to learn that, but she didn't want to do test it while she was exhausted. In the end she decided to lean the sword against the desk on her side, as it would be close to her as well as she could hide the hilt behind a stack of books and papers.
Now that the sword was strapped to her hip, she felt weirdly empty. Despite her bumping into a few things with it, the sword felt right at her side, like it was always meant to be there. Such a wretched thing shouldn't fit so comfortably in her life, and yet she was starting to struggle imagine her life without it.
A knock at her door, caused her to jump. With a quick glance she made sure that the sword couldn't be visible from the students' side of the desk, though she knew it was pointless. She might have had avoided the crowds, she was still seen with the sword, and it was only a matter of time before all of Garreg Mach knew she was walking around with it. With a sigh she turned her back on her desk and called for the person, who knocked, to come in.
The door opened slowly, letting her know it wasn't one of her regular students, so she started to make her way towards the door. A subdue and hesitant greeting broke through the stillness of the air, as Marianne stood at the door with her gaze casted downward. Upon seeing the quiet student Byleth picked up the pace.
It was only at that moment that Byleth remembered that she needed to fill out transfer papers, but because of the whole situation with Duscur she hadn't been able to get to them yet. An uncomfortable silence came crashing down on her as she struggled with trying to figure out the best way to let down the student. When she couldn't think of anything to say, she hung her head in shame.
"It is okay, Professor," Marianne said. Byleth's head shot up and the quiet, young woman was sporting a soft, rare smile that had the teacher forgetting all about her negative emotions. Marianne held up some documents that Byleth recognized as the paperwork she needed to fill out. "I know the situation with Prince Dimitri has kept you busy. So, with Professor Hanneman's help we were able to fill out the forms for you." Byleth's eyes widen, and a warmth settled over her. "We just need your signature, that is if you are still okay with me becoming one of your students." As Marianne finished her thought, her voice became more and more faint with each passing word and by the end she was no longer able to look at Byleth.
"I would still be honored to have you as a student," Byleth said as she took the documents. Marianne still didn't look at her, but the student did nod. "I'm sure Ashe will be excited as well." A light blush colored the quiet lady's checks and Byleth smiled.
With the documents handed over, Marianne excused herself and left with a simple but clearly heard goodbye. It wasn't that long after that her students started to come in and they were understandably surprised to see her there. When she explained Dimitri's situation, she managed to easily clear up all their confusion, though she was a bit confused as too why Sylvain was so quick to point out that Dimitri would return to her side soon. It seemed random to her, but she decided to not question it.
As she was about to start class she paused to glance at the Sword of the Creator, that was still out of view for the students. No one had said anything, but surely one of them had to have heard some kind of rumor that she had the sword on her. When she glanced at everyone, no one seemed like they were itching to say anything. Her gaze returned to the sword, she knew couldn't hide it away from it forever, despite how much she wanted too.
Without saying anything she gripped the sword, and it came to life with its glow. Instantly those that were familiar with Hero Relics knew what was going on, and so she reluctantly held up the sword for all of them to see. Gasps filled the classrooms, and her friends all wore complicated expressions that she struggled to not match.
"As you are aware my crest has enhanced my senses considerably," she started and only stopped when she realized how easily she had said that; it wasn't that long ago that she had struggled to admit that fact to her friends. She hid her frustration at herself behind her neutral expressions, and no one made any comment on it. "It has gotten to the point where I can no longer function." Sympathetic stares and soft offers of help momentarily stopped her from explanation. With a clear of her throat the class when quiet. "The Sword of the Creator," the name rolled off her tongue so easily that she struggled to not show her disgust, "helps suppress my crest's ability and allows me to live a normal life." After saying it out loud it sounded so ludicrous that she needed to rely on a Hero Relic to function. It seems like such a perfect little plan that the archbishop concocted. Sighing through her nose, Byleth let those thoughts die so that she could finish her explanation, "and because of that I will from now on have the Sword of the Creator at my side at all times. I have permission to walk around with it, but if any of you feel uncomfortable, please do let me know."
Much to her surprise her students had little to say about the sword and only cared about her wellbeing. Carrying around the sword had left her feeling on edge but listening to her students had her calming down. It took a few tries, but she was able to reassure them that she was fine and that there was no need to worry.
While her students might have had a subdued reaction to the Sword of the Creator, Byleth wasn't foolish enough to know that it wasn't going to be talked about and so to try and by herself some more time of peace she hid away in her classroom during the lunch break. Unfortunately, such a peace wasn't granted as soon as the word got out that she had the sword, outside her classroom was bombarded by the more outgoing students. At first, she tried to ignore the commotion, but when Professor Manuela demanded that Byleth put a stop to the chaos the reluctant teacher had to leave her little sanctuary.
The courtyard was filled with nearly every student at Garreg Mach and one look at everyone had Byleth trying to escape back into her classroom only for Professor Manuela to stop her. Shouts to see the sword filled the air and Byleth was so grateful to have her senses to back to being normal. Not wanting to give into the demands Byleth glanced back at Professor Manuela for support, but the pointed stare she was given in return sealed her fate.
Mustering up more effort than she wanted Byleth managed to maintain her normal expression and held up the Sword of the Creator high in the sky. Even without the enhanced hearing the cheers were deafening. Briefly she contemplated throwing the sword into the crowd and running away but the shear chaos she imagined that would cause had her holding onto the sword with all her might. From the other side of the courtyard, she saw Seteth and they made eye contact. His stare had her regretting everything.
It didn't take long for the students to start demanding to see the sword in action and that was where the line was drawn, and she was glad to see that Professor Manuela stepping up to put a stop to it. The professors struggled to get the students under control. When things were becoming too much, and the students were getting too rowdy Seteth's booming voice managed to pierce through the chaos silencing everyone. He ordered all the students to return to their classroom and all the professor breathed a sigh of relief, until he turned his gaze onto Byleth. He only left after telling her to see him after class and she wanted to curse; she wanted no part in this, it wasn't fair that she was going to get a lecture.
It was in the middle of the day when Dimitri arrived at Castle Blaiddyd. It had only been a few months since he had last been there, but it felt like a lifetime ago. He knew people would normally be excited to finally return home after being away for so long, but he didn't; he wanted nothing more than to quickly finish his business and return to Garreg Mach.
As soon as he went through the castle's gates the air instantly felt heavy. He felt his throat constrict when he felt everyone's eyes were on him. With each step he took it became harder and harder, but he couldn't let others know that and so he held up his head high and walked with the "air" of a prince that his uncle was always demanding of him. Right before the castle's doors opened, he took a deep breath in preparation as he knew it would become incredibly difficult for him to breathe once he was inside.
His expression didn't change when he didn't find his uncle waiting for him. His uncle was all about keeping up pretense, but that only seemed to apply to Dimitri. His uncle never cared for his image, and he seemed to be going out of his way to ruin it at times with all his skirt chasing. But what really bothered Dimitri was how his uncle never bothered to try and pretend to have a good relationship with him; and even though Dimitri had long come to expect that even before the Tragedy of Duscur took place, he still couldn't help but be hurt at the distance.
"Your Highness!" a familiar voice called out to him. Dmitri snapped his head so fast in the direction of the voice, that he got the owner of the voice, Lord Rodrigue, to momentarily pause mid step. Upon seeing the duke, a massive smile spread across the young man's face. "You have arrived much sooner than I was expecting." Lord Rodrigue said once he caught up to the prince's side. "I was all excited to surprise you and yet you beat me."
"I apologize," Dimitri said out of habit, but the older man just laughed it off.
With his meeting with court not scheduled until tomorrow Dimitri was free to spend the day with Lord Rodrigue, and there was not a single complaint from the prince on that matter. Just an hour before he was a nervous wreck but that was now a thing of the past. The smile he wore was so contagious that anyone, who had past him that day, were sporting their own smiles.
After a training session, Dimitri ungracefully collapsed onto a bench in the training yard. Lord Rodrigue never showed any disdain for the prince's behavior and joined him on the bench; al bit with a poise expected of man of his statues. The two sat in silence to catch their breath and wipe the sweat off of themselves.
"Your skills have greatly improved," Lord Rodrigue said, and he had the look of a proud father.
The smile that Dimitri was already sporting was stretched wide across his face, but that complement somehow made the smile grow more. "It is all thanks to By!" Dimitri declared with such excitement that it caused him to get onto his feet. "She is an incredible teacher!"
Lord Rodrigue smiled. "So, I have been told." Dimitri's excitement temporarily froze with a little tilt of his head and the duke chuckled quietly. "Felix has been sending me updates on all the lessons."
"Felix has?"
"I am just as surprised as you are." The smile grew a bit strained on the father's face. "At first I heard absolutely nothing from him outside of him arriving at Garreg Mach safely." The smile returned to a more genuine one and the tension noticeably left his shoulders. "After Byleth became your professor, he has been sending me updates every month on lessons, Byleth's incredible technics, and such." A small chuckle escaped him, causing him to momentarily pause in talking. "He even told me how he will one day defeat Byleth." That sentence also brought a chuckle to Dimitri as he recalled how often Felix declared that he would surpass Byleth one day.
"Byleth has had a magnificent impact on my son and based on how you have been smiling so easily now, I believe she has been one on you as well."
Dimitri instantly flushed red and was no longer able to look at the duke, who laughed. "She…," the prince started, but soon stopped as he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. It was clear that Lord Rodrigue had some kind of idea of how much Dimitri cared for Byleth, but he didn't know much the lord realized. While he was sure that the duke would support his feelings, he wasn't sure how much the lord would support, as he was always quick to remind Dimitri of his position.
"Do you love her?" Dimitri snapped his head to look at Lord Rodrigue in the eye. No words came to him as he stared at his father figure. He understood he was young and might not "understand' what love is and what it means to be n love as he had overheard Seteth one time explaining to a young couple during a lecture; but he was sure he was in love with Byleth, there were no other words that could explain his feelings for her. But how would explain that and would Lord Rodrigue believe him?
He kept his mouth shut and lowered his gaze. "Felix says you are." With wide eyes, his gaze returned to the older man. He felt his palms get sweaty and he struggled to swallow. He opened and closed his hands several times, but it did nothing to dissipate the nervous energy building up in his system. His throat constricted to the point that it became impossible to talk, not that he could think of anything to say at that moment.
"Are you afraid that you will not have my approval?" Pressing his lips into a thin line, Dimitri effectively made it even harder for him to speak. He managed to break free of Lord Rodrigue's gaze as his drifted towards the floor. "You have my approval." Dimitri's head shot up, like an arrow leaving a bow, as he was once again held captive by the duke's gaze. His mouth hung open, but he couldn't think of a thing to say.
It was Lord Rodrigue's turn to look away. The little smile left his face as he looked around. Slowly the glee that had been bubbling in Dimitri fizzled away as he watched his father figure. As if reaching some conclusion, the duke swiftly turned his gaze onto the prince and Dimitri flinched.
"We need to talk somewhere else in private," the duke said in a somber tone that caused the prince's stomach to sink. Unable to find his voice, Dimitri just simply nodded and that was enough for the older man to start leading him away.
They walked in silence to the room that Lord Rodrigue was staying in. A million questions raced through Dimitri's mind, but he couldn't figure out how to voice any of them, and that didn't change once the door was shut behind him. Lord Rodrigue seemed to be having his own internal struggle and it brought the young man some comfort to know that he wasn't the only one.
"How is Byleth?" Lord Rodrigue finally asked after a few minutes of silence. Dimitri didn't respond right away and instead gave the duke a puzzled look. Dimitri had given updates on all his friends, including Byleth, throughout that day, but it was only in that moment did he realized that Lord Rodrigue had been quick to brush off or quickly change the subject when it came to her, until that moment. With his lips pressed tightly together, Dimitri continued to remain silent as he struggled to work through his thoughts.
With a heavy sigh, Lord Rodrigue showed the prince a rare sight of him slouching and resting his elbows on his knees. The lord looked at the small table that sat between the two as he continued his thought, "how is she handling all of her sudden changes?" Unsure of what to say Dimitri remained silent and began to chew on his cheek.
An uncomfortable silence settled over them. Dimitri knew he needed to say something, but nothing he could think of seemed right, in the end it was Lord Rodrigue that broke the silence. "My son tells me she is not handling them well…" The memory of Byleth blaming herself for his injury, from the night before, flashed before the young man's eyes. He bit hard on his check and though he could not taste the blood he certainly felt it, but that wasn't a concern for him. Felix's statement was a great understatement. She was drowning and he did nothing to help. He balled his fists tightly as he thought about how much she must be suffering right at that moment, and he wasn't even by her side to help her in some way.
Another sigh escaped the lord as he now leaned back in his seat to look up at the roof. "Of all the people…" he mumbled before sighing again. Still unsure of what to say, Dimitri could do nothing else but stare at the older man.
A silenced settled over them. His knuckles began to cry out and so he began to rub his hands, if only to try and release some of his nervous energy. As the silence continued Dimitri couldn't tell if it was that or the topic that was bothering him. He wished for Lord Rodrigue to try and hurry up and get to the point and put an end to the both of them.
It took the duke a few seconds, but he finally sat up right and locked eyes with Dimitri. The suddenness of it caused the prince to sit up straight and match the duke's posture The look that the duke was giving him, did not sit well with Dimitri and he struggled to not squirm under the gaze.
"Your Highness," Lord Rodigue called in a strong and powerful tone causing Dimitri to flinch, "do you know what Byleth's awakening means?" All at once, the prince's nervousness left him as he gave his father figure his full attention.
"Right now, Fodlan is only in a state of peace because of a balance of power." Dimitri's fingers dug into his knees. "But that is no longer the case." He began to bite his lip. "…Because of Byleth." His teeth dug sharply into his lip and neither man acknowledged the blood that now dripped down the prince's chin.
"A long-lost crest and Hero Relic that are not tied to any fraction." Dimitri sucked in a deep breath in a poor attempt to keep a lump from forming in his throat. "Will she bring salvation or-"
Dimitri slammed his hands down on the table hard enough for cracks to form, and neither of them batted an eye over it. "What are you insinuating?!" he demanded with fierce scowl on his face. Lord Rodrigue did not react to the outburst and kept his eyes locked with his liege. It took the prince a few deep breaths to calm himself enough to sit down, but he was still far from composed.
"I am not insinuating that she is doing anything on purpose; no far from it." Dimitri gritted his teeth, but kept his mouth shut. It was Lord Rodrigue's turn to show a little bit of emotion as he looked off to the side with down casted eyes. The duke closed his eyes for a moment before returning his gaze to the prince and once again had an air of power and control that was fitting for his position. "I imagine she will have very little say in the matter." The prince had to shut his eyes and took a deep breath but when he opened his eyes he was no where close to being as in control as the duke was. He balled his fists so tightly that they began to hurt but the pain never registered to his chaotic mind. "Each fraction will begin fighting for her and she will be at their mercy." Dimitri wanted to scream out, but he buried it deep within. He increased the pressure he was putting on his legs, leaving bruises, but he didn't care about that nor the pain he was feeling at that moment.
"That is why," Lord Rodrigue started in a different tone. It wasn't a soft tone or anything of the like, as it still sounded the same as he would address someone, but something about it felt different. Dimitri didn't know how or why but the air shifted. The duke's expression remained the same, but something felt off and he couldn't explain what. His anger quickly melted away as unease washed over him like a tidal wave. He wanted to put an end to the conversation right then and there, but he couldn't. He felt so weak and helpless under the older man's gaze. "You must make your move first. Make Byleth fall for you."
It felt like someone had just dropped a boulder on him and the weight was threatening to crush him. No thoughts came to him as he helpless stared at his father figure for answers, answers he wasn't sure he wanted to hear. The duke's expression finally shifted into an apologetic one and Dimitri felt disgusted to see it.
Despite having permission from the archbishop to walk around with the Sword the Creator, no other staff knew about it causing Byleth to receive a long lecture from Seteth. It was only when the archbishop came in to explain everything did Seteth finally stop, though he never did apologize. She thought she was finally free to leave, only for Seteth to spring an emergency meeting to discuss what to do with the sword. It was well into the evening when the meeting ended and Byleth was finally free to go. She was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion and was hoping to make it to her room without passing anyone.
Byleth wasn't so lucky or maybe she was, she didn't really know. She made it as far as to her room before she finally met a student, Edelgard. It had been so long since the two women had last interacted and Byleth was hesitant to say anything, but a little hope burned in her chest because it had been Edelgard that had approached her first and she was alone or the first time.
"Good evening, Professor," Edelgard said in such a practiced way that the little hope Byleth had was beginning to die.
"Good evening," Byleth returned with the same tone.
An uncomfortable silence settled over them. The older woman looked at the door, to her room, and wondered how she could politely excuse herself, but she was quick to reject any idea she thought off. She wanted to leave, and she didn't want to leave. Her simple life was now filled with conflicting emotions.
Outside of her greeting, Edelgard did not look at Byleth and instead kept her gaze solely on the Sword of the Creator. Byleth was half tempted to maneuver herself in a way that would hide most of the sword but choose not to do so in the end. The uncomfortableness grew more intense, but the Professor still refused to do anything that could end their little meeting.
"May I see the sword," Edelgard finally asked, but still kept her gaze on the weapon.
Byleth pressed her lips together into a thin line as she looked down at the other woman. She gripped the sword and the glow matched with the setting sun, but she was reluctant to show it to Edelgard. She could feel Sothis' unease with the whole situation, but despite that Byleth still held up the sword.
Edelgard's gaze remained on the sword. Her expression never changed, and she never spoke her thoughts out loud. Byleth felt like an outsider the entire time, and she was sure the princess was wishing that she wasn't there. With no warning, Edelgard's gaze turned towards the professor, and Byleth flinched.
"May I hold the sword?"
The former mercenary bit her lip as she looked at the princess. Despite avoiding her gaze for much of their interactions, Edelgard maintained eye contact the entire time. Sothis' unease grew more, and it felt overwhelming for the reluctant host.
The fear of losing Edelgard's friendship forever won out in the end and Byleth handed over the sword. Once it left her hands the glow vanished and Edelgard frowned. The professor quietly watched as Edelgard gripped the handle is several places and several in different ways and her frowned only deepened.
"I'm told the Sword of the Creator is a unique relic," Byleth only said to break up the silence. Briefly Edelgard's gaze flicked upwards to Byleth but fell back to the sword just as quickly. "It will only glow for those that posses the right crest."
It was supposed to be harmless small talk, and even though Byleth was never good at it she at least didn't think she said anything to deserve the intense scowl that Edelgard was now sporting. The student never took her eyes off the sword as the carefully ran one of her hands down it, the scowl never changing. When she got to the hole in the sword, above the handle, her hand stopped.
"You know Professor," Edelgard started, and the tone she was using didn't sit well with Byleth. It wasn't offensive or challenging but something about it, had Byleth wanting to rip the sword out of the student's hands and run away. "All Hero Relics have a Crest Stone, somewhere on them." The older woman gritted her teeth but remained quiet. "It is said to give the relics power as well as being necessary to use the item." Byleth's eyes scanned the Sword of the Creator, but she couldn't find anything she would call a Crest Stone on it. Edelgard held the sword horizontally so that she could make eye contact with the older woman through the weapon's gap. "How are you able to wield the sword without one?"
Byleth's chest felt tight. It took a great effort to maintain her normal blank expression as well as keep eye contact. She clenched and unclenched her hands at several times, but it did little to calm her.
"The Sword of the Creator is unique," she was able to say calmly.
Edelgard's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure about that?" Byleth's throat had tightened to the point that she was struggling to breathe, but she dared not let that be known to the other woman. She resisted the urge to release any of her nervous energy and forced an image of calm and uncaring. After neither woman's stances or expressions changed, Edelgard handed back the Sword of the Creator and left without saying anything else.
Even when Edelgard was a good distance away, Byleth still hadn't budged from her spot. The sword felt incredibly heavy in her hands, and she wanted nothing more than to drop the weapon and walk away from it forever. If what Edelgard said was true than why her? Why did Byleth have to be such an outlier to everything? What was she?