Byleth's fingers traced over the cracked bone hilt of the sword. It had been laid upon a marble dais in the vaults since they arrived in Enbarr, surrounded by other recovered weapons of legend. The vault was eerily silent, dimly lit with a morbid ambience; a crypt for the weapons that held their value in blood spilt.
She did not remember the sword feeling so cold.
With a held breath she wrapped her delicate fingers around the handle. With her hands less calloused she felt every break and nook on its surface. She wasn't surprised when it failed to ignite with the fiery glow, but a part of her wished it had. Even just a spark; to prove some part of the goddess persisted.
But all she was touching was a corpse.
"Sothis…" she whispered to herself. The sobriety of this knowledge was heart-breaking. She wondered what the goddess would have thought if she had known the true origin of the blade.
The door behind her opened with a clunk that echoed throughout the chamber. She whipped the sword around through instinct, the gnarled tip pointing towards the face of her husband.
"I thought I would find you here," he said, closing the gap between them.
She exhaled and lowered the blade, hiding the fact that her muscles were screaming from holding up the dead relic. Her muscle and form had deteriorated over the last few months, not to mention her generally weakened state. She turned to place the sword back on the dais.
"That's not the first time you've brandished that sword against me," Hubert said, breaking the heavy silence. He placed a thumb and finger to his chin, reminiscing on the time he had waited for her in her tent during the war.
She had been angry with him earlier that afternoon. So angry that she hadn't wished to see his face for the rest of it. But after allowing some time to reflect, joined with the comforting time spent with Flayn and Seteth, she had cooled somewhat. Though her mind still burned for answers hidden behind those striking eyes of green.
"I believe it is fair recompense for keeping secrets from your wife." She crossed her arms. It was a big hint for him to explain himself.
"Heh. I was wondering when you would look upon me again with such contempt…" He placed his hands on her arms, squeezing them. "I withheld that information purely to protect you."
She felt her poise break at his touch. Though she did not respond verbally, willing him to continue.
"If I had told you, you would have tried to seek them out. It has been a delicate process… believe me when I say I intended to tell you the outcome, regardless of how it played out."
"Are you keeping any other secrets from me?" She saw him falter. It was subtle, but she had learned to read him well. "Of course you are." She let out a terse sigh, resting her head upon his chest.
He flinched, a hint of injury in his posture. "Everyone keeps secrets. Even you, my dear wife."
"What are you talking about?"
"Do you recall the first time I confronted you? Back when I was a student? I had watched you very carefully – you fascinated me, in fact. It was how I figured out that something wasn't quite... normal. You would speak to yourself as if it were not entirely one-sided."
She tried to control her heart rate - it was hammering against her chest.
She saw no point denying it. "It doesn't matter now. She's gone. Sothis is gone."
"So, my suspicions were correct." They broke the embrace and Hubert gestured to the Sword of the Creator. "May I?" he asked. "I've always been curious."
"You may."
He placed his hand upon the hilt. "To think that these are the bones of the goddess herself." There was no reverence veiled in his voice. If anything, it was mocking. "I trust Seteth filled you in on the details. We had presumed this worked differently to the other relics…"
He picked up the sword, getting a measure for the weight. He then swung it in a concise and controlled movement, the tip of the blade just inches from her chest. "How unexpected that her heart happened to be within you the whole time."
It was strange having the sword wielded against her, having never seen it from that angle. For many, it had been the last thing they had witnessed.
"Enjoying yourself?" She asked with a smirk, trying to dispel the tension. She figured he had always wanted to touch the sword but never dared, lest it consume him.
"Hmph. Ironic, isn't it? Rhea fashioned you to be a vessel for the goddess… and in the end, you were the one to destroy her."
"Are you trying to get a rise out of me?" she asked, pushing the blade away with the back of her hand.
"Perhaps… I'm not used to being kept in the dark about things."
"Likewise."
His resolve fell and he placed the relic back upon the stone dais. He gestured for her hand and she gave it willingly, enjoying the sensation when his lips brushed against her knuckles.
"Forgive me," he said pensively, "I know I don't say it often but… you know that I love you. I do not wish us to part on bad terms. And we will be together again, I will make sure of it. When we reunite, I'll fill you in on what I know. You have my word."
"I love you too," she whispered, pulling him into a hard embrace. "And I will do the same."
"This is badly timed. If it wasn't for the mission in Hrym…" He trailed off.
"I know you want to come with me. But don't worry yourself, I'll stay out of trouble."
"I cannot help but feel a strong unease. Somehow trouble always finds you."
"I recall a simpler time when I was helping you train to become a Wyvern Knight, I'm curious to see how far you've come," Seteth mused, a hand upon his chin as he watched Byleth pull the straps to her Wyvern's saddle taut.
The morning had come quickly, and the royal stables were buzzing with activity as everyone prepared for the journey.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead and stepped over to greet him. "Are you challenging me to a race?" she said, unable to hide the giddy challenge clear on her face.
Seteth scoffed, the first time she had seen him give a genuine smile since they had reunited. "That does sound rather tempting. Once we've completed our task, perhaps we could have a fly around the monastery."
"Hm. You've changed, I'm surprised you're even considering it."
"With everything that has happened recently, I find myself enjoying the more nuanced things in life. Additionally, I suspect Flayn would enjoy it considerably."
"She'll be quite disappointed when you lose."
"I do not count on losing." His smile then wavered as he continued, "Now we have a moment to ourselves, I wanted to speak with you about the battle that day, when we fought, I -"
"Please, that is behind us now," she replied, holding a hand up to halt his words. "I understand why you did it. You thought you had lost her…" She glanced towards Flayn who was fussing over Seteth's wyvern. She was cheerily feeding it some dried meat, her sweet smile as bright as the morning sun.
"Thank you, Prof… Byleth. To have your forgiveness means more than I can express. If it were not for you, we likely would have…"
"Then let us speak no more on the matter. We should enjoy our time together. Whilst we can." The last words bit hard. There was no knowing if they would see each other again after this mission. She suspected he and Flayn would return into hiding, especially now their secret had come to light.
"I agree," he replied absently. His sights wavered on his daughter for a short moment before watching the young boy strapping items to Byleth's wyvern. "The boy has me curious, who is he?"
"That is Samael. One of Hubert's agents, a relative of house Vestra." She observed the boy for a moment - he seemed extremely interested in Hector. His small hands touching his scales with cold fascination, large eyes studying the beast as if were a piece of artwork to be appraised.
"I would not have expected Hubert to spy on us so openly," Seteth said.
"He has a strange way of showing trust. In truth, a lot of what that man does is still a mystery to me."
The clanking of armour then caught their attention.
"We are ready to head out by your order, Lady Vestra," the battalion leader said, giving her a bow of respect.
"I'll leave you to your preparations," Seteth said, heading over to assist Flayn.
"Thank you, I will be ready shortly," she replied to the soldier before returning to pull at the straps to Hector's harness. She bent down to pick up the rest of the provisions when a cloaked arm blocked her path.
"Please, allow me, My Lady. You shouldn't be overexerting yourself." Samael grabbed it before she could protest.
She gave a wry smile. "I'm perfectly capable."
He stopped, regarding her carefully with his absent gaze. "Lord Vestra ordered me to look after you. I ask that you allow me to do my duty."
"Very well," she sighed. "Do you like wyverns?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Yes."
"Have you ridden one before?"
"No." His eyes narrowed.
"Not much for conversation, are you?" she groused.
"I would advise that we speak little to each other, My Lady."
"Is that what my husband has asked of you?"
He did not respond, watching her with his deadpan expression.
"Did you know he's afraid of heights?" Byleth whispered with a playful cadence in an attempt to break the boy's stoicism.
Samael's expression briefly changed, as if taken by a flicker of curiosity.
"I – I had no idea," he replied, a smirk on his face. His eyes then briefly switched from hers to someone behind. "If you will excuse me, My Lady." He bowed and turned to affix the provisions to Hector's saddlebags.
"Everything seems to be in order." Hubert's voice brooded from behind her. She turned to greet him, the grim look upon his face saying more than his words could express.
"Yes, I'm about ready to depart." She felt all the background noise fade, her words faint and conflicted. The excitement of a mission overthrown by the prospect of leaving him.
"I brought you this," he said, clutching a bundle of fabric in his hands. "No doubt it will be colder at Garreg Mach than is here." He unfurled a black velvet cape and draped it over her shoulders. With a subtle shake to his fingers, he tied the string around the nape of her neck, before brushing the cape to her sides. His hands rested on her arms over the thick fabric.
"It's lovely," she said as she ran her fingers over the fabric which fell near her chest. "Thank you, Hue."
She heard a constrained rumble at the back of his throat. He had left much unsaid about this mission, but she knew he was internally screaming at her to stay.
"Please… Take care," he said in a lower octave.
"You'll likely be in Hrym territory by the time I return," she said, placing a hand upon his chest, savouring the contact that she would so desperately miss. He responded in kind, pulling her closer and they shared a comforting embrace. He rested his forehead on hers. How she wished she could delay the excursion, but she feared for what would happen if Seteth and Flayn spent too much time in Enbarr. Spies were rife and paranoia was high, it was too risky.
"I must admit, I'm not good when it comes to saying goodbye," she added quietly. She felt a knot form in her stomach, reeling as the emotional pain bled into physical.
He huffed affectionately, placing a hand on her cheek. "Then do not say it."
They shared a lingering kiss, making up for the lack of words they had spoken that morning. She pushed her face into his chest, not wanting to pry herself away from the warmth of his embrace - and for a short moment she even contemplated staying.
When they finally parted a flash of red caught her eye. She turned to find Edelgard walking over to greet them, two guards following at her flanks. She was immediately drawn to the huge item the Empress was carrying. Byleth recognised that shape with ease, it was the hero's relic, Aymr. Though it was bound in extravagant cloth.
"I came to see you off, my teacher," Edelgard said, holding out the weapon for Byleth to take. "Also, I request that you take Aymr. It has no place in the future I wish to build. Now even more so, knowing what it truly is."
"Are you sure about this?" Byleth asked, taking the bound weapon with tentative hands.
"I am. I will also do what I can to have the other recovered relics sent to you at Garreg Mach."
"That means more than you know," she said respectfully as she turned, "Samael, would you rope this to Hector's saddle for me?"
"Of course, Lady Vestra." He took the weapon from Byleth, but his eyes lingered upon the emperor for a long moment. "It is an honour to be in your presence, your majesty."
Edelgard looked disjointed, her eyes wavering over the boy in a way Byleth did not recognise.
"El? Is everything alright? You look a bit pale," Byleth asked innocently, but something wasn't sitting well with her, and she couldn't place the feeling.
Edelgard quickly collected herself, returning to her usual refined stoicism.
"I… I'm perfectly well. Pay me no heed," she replied, pinching the bridge between her eyes, and ignoring the boy completely. "We received a raven from the commander at Garreg Mach earlier, they will be expecting your arrival." She placed a hand upon Byleth's shoulder. "I bid you a safe journey, my teacher, and I hope this mission brings you a semblance of peace."
She clasped Edelgard's hand in hers, "Thank you, El."
When she turned, she gave one last lingering look at her husband. He was despondent, though her expression was not much different. She clenched her jaw and raised her hand, the wedding ring upon her finger glinting in the light as she gave the signal to commence their leave.
"All units, be ready to move out!" she commanded.
By horse, this journey would likely have taken two days, but within a few hours, Garreg Mach appeared in the distance as they raced through the clear skies. Towering over the surrounding forests, nestled within the mountains; the Monastery was a welcome sight. For the first time in a long while, Byleth felt a burst of nostalgia conquer her heart.
"Sam, can you see it in the distance?" she said, beaming with pride.
"Indeed, Lady Vestra. It is hard to miss."
She rolled her eyes. From what she had gathered over the journey, the boy was exceedingly smart but had little to no social skills.
Shortly after their arrival, they checked in with the current commander. She tried to distract herself from the desire to explore the keep, to run her fingers over every wall, to lie upon the grass of the gardens and gaze at the midday sky again. She resolved that she would, but they had matters to attend first. Her stay here would likely go on for longer than a few days due to the delivery of the relics, so she had plenty of time to sate her curiosity in the meantime.
Flayn and Seteth seemed rather despondent at the current state of Garreg Mach. It stood dishevelled and neglected from war, a harsh reminder of the day they stood against the empire on the battlefield. Though they said little, the lack of words spoke volumes on their feelings.
They wasted no time in heading down to the Holy Tomb to retrieve the crest stones, deciding it best to burn them along with the weapons.
A gust of stagnant air rushed through the doors as they opened.
"The holy tomb has been sealed off ever since we re-took Garreg Mach during the war. It's been heavily guarded ever since. The crest stones should all be here," Byleth said as she stepped into the gloom. A small fire spell ignited at her fingertips, lighting the way ahead.
"I'm surprised you did not relocate them," Seteth said as he picked up his pace to walk by her side.
"We had them enchanted with tracking magic in case the Agarthans decided to try and claim them again. It appears they deemed the task too risky."
"Hm. That is quite the clever plan," Seteth said in contemplation.
"Yes… my husband is rather shrewd," Byleth smirked.
Seteth huffed in annoyance at unintentionally complimenting Hubert.
The sound of boots grinding against shattered paves echoed through the tomb. The gloom started to subside as each member lit their own fire spell to dispel the darkness.
"This place… It is a coarse reminder of that day all those years ago," Flayn said, caring not to hide her melancholy as she pushed a discarded helmet out of her path with her foot.
"It is," Byleth replied, the demure tone in her voice mirroring Flayn's. "Due to constraints with time and resources, this place has relatively remained untouched."
Byleth's light crept up each step to the throne, until she could see it, sat high in cold splendour. Something stirred within as her eyes wandered over it – a certain reverence and respect, coupled with an overwhelming desire to brush her fingers across its neglected surface.
"The crest stones should still be within the caskets," she said as she began to climb the steps. She heard lighter footsteps close behind and the sound of grinding marble as Flayn and Seteth began to open the caskets.
"So, this is the throne of the goddess," Samael mused from behind, though his voice denoted that he was rather uninterested. "I expected it to be... bigger."
"I'm surprised you even know about it."
"Lord Vestra disclosed many details about this place before we left Enbarr."
She went to respond at the moment her hand brushed over the arm of the ancient throne.
Her body lurched forward.
She could barely bring thoughts to mind before she found herself at foot of the steps. The cool air of the tomb no longer nipped at her skin, and all noise had fallen to an achingly dull silence. She felt an all-consuming dread unfurl from within her body and it moved on instinct, arms folding and stepping back in shock.
All that surrounded was a piercing void.
It reminded her of the soul-consuming darkness of Zaharas. She gasped, feeling the horror rush through her veins as her heart remained still and un-beating.
"I did not believe I would come to speak with you again. To think, you would come here and touch this very throne before our connection was severed. Such circumstances are akin to fate."
That voice.
It was richer – more mature than she remembered, but there was no mistaking it hers all the same.
"Sothis?"
Her voice was but a whisper as she gazed up towards the throne. She was there… but different. Now a woman. She was clad in a long white dress that dispelled the darkness around her, hair not as wild as in her youth but just as long. Sothis regarded her with curious green eyes, a smirk on her face which denoted a strong apathy.
"Never the brightest of lights, but you remember that much at least. Do not let my form sway you, I am indeed that which you name."
"What happened to you?" Byleth could barely keep her composure, her hands shaking without reprieve. Eyes fixed upon the goddess before her. She barely felt the breath of her own words.
"It seems your inadequate vessel stunted the growth of my mind and body. Free of you, it seems both are now whole. My foolish, forsaken daughter tried her best to bring me back. Perhaps she would have succeeded in the end, but there is no way of knowing now – not that such an incarnation would have brought me any solace."
It was hard to take in, she was barely able to word a sentence. "I see… You remember."
"I remember everything." Sothis' demeanour was different. She recalled being scolded by her in the past, but this? The goddess looked upon her as if her worth were akin to the ground she stood upon.
She continued, walking soundlessly down the steps towards Byleth. "I recall the day you rejected me. It is one I think of often. When you struck my blood with my body and reclaimed your humanity…" she exhaled, a modicum of mercy upon her words, "And yet I suppose, in the end, that power was more forced than gifted unto you. Any mortal soul would writhe against fate given a semblance of free will."
"You're saying I rejected your powers?" Byleth asked. Her mind had often wondered why her powers disappeared after killing Rhea. Her hands shook at the prospect of an answer, all attention fixed to the goddess as she approached.
"I'm saying, I relinquished them of you," she approached, raising a finger to slide across Byleth's jaw. "Your heart struggled to beat on its own for years, but during that battle it became unbearable. You fought so hard against me, and when you killed her… my last daughter… my heart finally broke. Those pieces, now scattered to the winds, are all that remains of my soul."
"I see." She felt a lump form in her throat as they locked eyes. "Then you must hate me for what I've done," she said, voice hushed – fully aware she was at the mercy of the goddess.
"Unwise child, I do not know hate. That is a blessing of humanity." She pulled away her finger, returning to a firm regard.
"If you have indeed relinquished me of your powers, how is this meeting even possible?"
"A shard of me lingers within you; I can sense it. It is allowing us to commune at this moment… Yet it is but a shadow."
"Sothis." Her teeth clenched and she raised a hand neglecting to touch her at the last moment. "I'm so sorry."
"Peace, child. I did not appear before you with intent to reprimand you. What is done, is done." She sighed, but her eyes began to waver as if she were listening keenly to the surrounding nothingness. "I sense a darkness creeping through the cracks like so many scuttling insects. You must go. But if you would do me one last grace: thwart the Agarthans. Whilst they survive my soul withers, and the lands cry out in the face of this war."
"I promise you," she replied.
"Good." She said, her eyes narrowing. Byleth then heard her voice as if lips poised to her ear; a foreboding whisper. "Do not linger here. For part of the hive has found you... Do you hear them buzzing in the dark?"
