The licks of flames burned and danced upon the raging pyre. The shapes of the sword and axe could barely be seen, outlined by creeping embers devouring their contours. The fire had started to roar with an intense red hue as the weapons caught flame, saturating the surrounding stone walls in scarlet light. A gust of high wind blew through the goddess tower, billowing the inferno so it burned even stronger and brighter.

Byleth felt the heat upon her cheeks as she sat with her back against a nearby wall, her head resting upon Seteth's shoulder as they both watched in morbid silence. It was as if they were witnessing the end of an era - of a legend. Would this moment be recorded in history? Or would they scatter the ashes without a word, allowing the myth to fade with time? It remained to be seen.

A whole manner of thoughts swam through her mind, akin to the flames, flickering and erratic. What was supposed to be a simple mission had already turned sour. She scarcely wanted to admit, but Hubert was right – trouble did indeed seek her out. Even though it had only been a day, the prospect of not seeing him for a while made her ache, her desire to have his touch was haunting. Even after uncovering more of the man's deceit, she could not help but miss him dearly.

Samael and Flayn were sitting close by, sat together at the top of the goddess tower, feet dangling over the darkness below. They were mostly sat in silence, every so often Flayn would attempt to have a conversation with him, but it would be quickly shut down. Flayn would then get discouraged and sit in quiet again, though she did not seem to mind. If anything, she was taking it as a challenge to have him open up to her.

Byleth heard Flayn speak up again, and this time she listened through the fiery ambience.

"Now that I have had a good look at you, you are actually rather cute, Samael. The firelight brings out the colour of your eyes!" Flayn said, dimples forming along with her bright smile.

"I find your exuberance quite annoying, Flayn," Sam replied without missing a beat. Even though this was how their interactions had gone thus far, he had made no attempt to leave her company.

"That is no way to speak to a lady!" Flayn replied, flailing her arms.

"Then I shall not speak."

Byleth felt a wry smile upon her lips, they seemed to be getting along better than expected. Her eyes lingered on the boy for a moment. When he had returned her embrace earlier that day, it was like they had formed a connection of sorts. She could not shake the innate feeling of worry and concern she felt for him – like a fierce desire to protect him. Perhaps it was because she saw a part of herself in him. Raised to fight at a young age, the lack of emotion, the inability to express himself properly. She knew exactly how it felt. The revelation of him having the crest of flames came as a surprise, but that was quickly overshadowed by his admittance to being experimented on by the Agarthans. Had he gone through the same torture as Edelgard? Her fists clenched at the thought. She would likely ask him more questions in time, but for now, she could not bring herself to.

She felt Seteth shift a little, and it caught her attention, feeling his breath against her ear as he whispered.

"That is curious… I believe this may be the first time Flayn has failed to charm someone." It was the first he had spoken in a while. It seemed his sombre demeanour was beginning to lift.

"She has definitely met her match," she replied in a hushed voice, low enough so the others would not overhear.

"That she has," he said, watching them for a long moment. "He is a skilled fighter, that boy. I find myself wondering about his upbringing. To be so proficient at a young age… it is a clear indication that he has had an abnormal childhood."

She exhaled a deep breath. "I wouldn't even know what to class as 'normal' anymore."

She had decided to keep Sam's past to herself, Seteth did not seem to be aware of the crest experiments done by the Agarthans. Perhaps this was something else best lost to history.

"Hm. You have a good point. Incidentally, I thought the same about you when we first met. Being raised as a mercenary was unusual, I attributed your prior taciturn character to such an upbringing." He leant his head back against the wall, "I am glad you recovered your emotions – even if they are directed at a certain unsavoury individual."

She huffed a weak laugh. "That unsavoury individual did save Flayn's life – surely you must see that."

He gave a terse sigh. "I do. But the emotions I felt at that moment refuse to leave me. I had honestly thought he had killed her – there was no doubt in my mind. Once you have lived as long as I have, the days flow by much faster. It takes longer for time to obscure the memories, from your perspective anyway."

"I hope you can forgive him in time," she replied, head still pressed against his shoulder for comfort. "I cannot imagine how difficult this is for you, your whole way of life has changed – everything you worked towards…"

"In honesty, I am relieved." His green eyes flickered with the fire as he watched the weapons slowly disintegrate. "Rhea could not let them go. It is better this way. At least now, Sothis may find a semblance of peace."

Upon mention of the goddess's name, she felt the quiet words slip from her mouth. "I spoke with her, with Sothis."

Seteth shifted and turned to face her, the warmth of his shoulder leaving her. His brow knitted in concern, and his eyes denoting a deep apprehension.

"When?" His voice was serious but pleading.

"The moment I touched the throne before we were attacked."

"By the goddess," he breathed, "you received a revelation. What did she tell you?"

"Her presence still lingers, though she is not the same as she was before." Byleth went on to share the details, the conversation she had with Sothis still fresh in her mind. She made sure the others could not overhear. "I thought it unfeasible," she added, "but she came to me all the same… What did she mean, a shard remained?"

Seteth paused, deep in thought. "I have a theory. Coincidentally, it has been on my mind since we reunited. I had not found the appropriate moment to ask the question until now."

"Please, go ahead."

"Your child… was it conceived before the battle with Rhea? Whilst you still possessed the power of the goddess?"

Sothis' words rang heavy in her mind, 'To think, you would come here and touch this very throne before our connection was severed.'

Had the goddess known?

"You think…" She paused, trying to make sense of it, and a wave of horror trickled down her spine. It wasn't over. "You think my child may be a new vessel for Sothis? I never even considered the possibility."

"I cannot say with any certainty. But if your child has even a shard of the goddess's power, she would become a target – especially by those who cannot accept the fall of the church. It would be prudent to be prepared for such a scenario."

"Not just those affiliated with the church." She replied, giving him a warning. "This stays between us. If those in shadows found out about this…" Her hand fell over her stomach. Sweet, innocent child that knows nothing of the world, would you live a normal life?

"You have my word," he said as he pulled her in for a chaste embrace. "You are like a second daughter to me, Byleth. I would never do anything to put you in jeopardy, you or your child."

"Thank you, Seteth. And the Empire will protect you both, I swear it."

They stayed like that until the weapons had surrendered to the fire. After it had died out, Flayn sent the ashes into the air with a burst of wind magic. Though, what should have been a ceremonious end to the goddess was tainted. It seemed this was far from over.


1 week later

Another slow morning was beginning to pass, giving way to the afternoon sun which travelled sluggishly through the sky. Its rays filtered through the windows and billowing drapes to the archbishop's quarters, providing Byleth with sufficient light as she languished over the guard compositions for the monastery. There had been no signs of Agarthan activity since the attack the week prior. Even so, she made sure patrols covered all areas at all times. The other recovered relics had been received and burned. All that remained were a scarce few which had not yet been found during the great war.

She had visited the holy tomb on a few occasions since, but the throne sat cold and silent each time.

A familiar aura of magic sat heavy in the air. She raised her head from her work to be greeted by a flash of violet light. She did not flinch as Samael appeared by her side, quite used to the boy's unexpected interruptions by this point.

"Lady Vestra, I received a raven for you," he said, handing her the rolled-up parchment.

"Thank you," she replied in a weary voice, running her fingers through her hair, tiredness clear on her face. She took the scroll and flipped it to identify the seal.

House Vestra's seal.

She felt her breath catch before exhaling in vibrant relief. It was the first time she had heard from her husband since he had departed for the mission in Hrym. She broke the wax seal and unravelled it, greeted by an illegible text.

"A private cypher," Sam said as if thinking out loud, dreary eyes falling over the strange symbols and words.

"Yes, just between me and him," Byleth replied with a weak smile. "He made me memorise it. What an exciting two days that was."

As she began decoding the message on a fresh piece of parchment, Sam walked over to the sofa. He set himself down on the makeshift bed he had built for himself, respectfully out of sight of the letter. Since the attack on the Holy Tomb, he had scarcely left her side, even insisting on sleeping in the same room. not that he slept much. She often found him sat on the balcony listening to the silence.

"I am glad my lord has returned from his mission unscathed," he said as he fiddled with the loose threads on his quilt.

Byleth arched an eyebrow but allowed a warm smile to light up her face. She halted the scratching of quill on paper. "Hm. I still cannot tell if you admire the man or fear him," she half-teased.

"I would say it is closer to the former. He has taught me a lot; I dare not think about my fate had he not taken me into his service... However strict his methods, I respect him."

"Is he the one who taught you magic?" She asked.

"Indeed. Now, if you will excuse me, My Lady. I should get back to work." He stood to walk out but halted with a flinch, pulling a hand up to cradle his head.

"Are the headaches getting worse?" she asked, rising from her chair. He had mentioned that he was frequented by them. What she has misinterpreted as irritation in the past turned out to be him dealing with the pain.

"Do not worry yourself over me."

"You really shouldn't overwork yourself, Sam. You've hardly slept in the last few days, are you not exhausted?"

He looked away as he raked a few fingers through his hair. "I am fine. I know my limits."

"Would you at least like some coffee?"

"Thank you, My Lady, but I will decline. I do not care for it. May I also point out that you are rather overworked yourself."

"We make quite the pair, don't we?" She said, returning to work on the cypher. "Stay a little while longer, I'd appreciate the company. I'll accompany you to the infirmary after this – get you something for the pain."

"Very well," he replied without protest, sitting back upon the sofa.

She read the letter as she deciphered it:


Byleth,

The mission in Hyrm was a success by most accounts.

The Javelins of Light have been recovered and neutralised, yet there is still no sign of Thales. It seems he has slipped through the net yet again. With any luck, certain interrogations will shed some light onto his whereabouts.

I request that you send me a full report of your activities. Including your reason for staying at Garreg Mach this long.

You can envisage my disappointment at not having my dear wife receive me upon my return to Enbarr.

With love,

Your husband


She smiled into the back of her hand before burning the note in a flash of fire from her palm. The ashes fell silently onto the desk and she felt a heavy weight lift from her shoulders.

He was safe.

She felt the faintest of tears prick at her eyes through the relief. All the anxiety and worry she had held over the past week falling mute.

"Perhaps it is time to inform them of the events of the past week." She said as she wiped her eyes, noticing Sam shift uncomfortably at the mention of it. "Do not worry, I'll be sure to vindicate your actions in not reporting sooner."

"I still do not care to imagine his reaction," he replied as he brushed his hair with his fingers. Byleth grimaced as they repeatedly got stuck in the bird's nest of tangles. His hair was long and seldom brushed.

"Allow me to cut your hair," she said as she began searching the desk drawer for a pair of scissors.

"No. Lady Vestra, that won't be necessary."

"Oh, but I insist," she said, "surely it would be more practical to have your hair shorter."

He watched her for a stoic moment, clearly without an argument. He seemed defeated. "Fine. I suppose there's no fighting against you when you are this persistent."

She flashed a mischievous smile and gestured to her chair as she stood. Sam strode wearily towards the chair as if it were an executioner's block.

She started on one side and made her way around his head. He sat perfectly still as if the scissors were a creeping viper ready to strike at any moment. As she snipped away the long strands at the back of his neck, she noticed even more surgical scars, running down the spine. She swallowed the anger, but the dull tightness in her stomach remained. What exactly had this boy endured? She rounded to the other side, ready to cut the other part of his fringe when she stopped. He looked the spitting image of Hubert.

"Hmm," she hummed, trying to lighten up the mood. No doubt Sam knew what she'd seen. She grabbed the hand mirror from her desk, handing it to him. His eyes lit up when he saw his new haircut, eyes wide and what appeared to be a small smile. "You look just like a small version of him like that," she added.

She went to even out the other side when she felt the back of his hand push against her wrist. "I would like to keep it like this… if it is no trouble."

"You idolise him, don't you?"

"Lady Vestra… please don't," he mumbled.

She laughed sweetly before ruffling his hair. "Alright, we'll keep it like that then."

"… Thank you."

After cleaning up the hair, she took her place back at the desk. It did not take long for her to write up the brief report. She only hoped that Hubert wouldn't overreact to the news, though she would find out soon enough when she received a raven back within a few hours.


The evening was beginning to set in over Garreg Mach, the grounds nestled in a veil of quiet as Byleth and Sam made their way back to the archbishop's quarters. She had still not received a raven back for Hubert, but that rumination was quickly answered when a soldier caught up to them in a fluster.

"Lady Vestra!" he said, catching his breath, "Lord Vestra has arrived in the courtyard, he has requested your presence immediately."

"What?" she replied, dumbstruck. "That must mean he arrived by Wyvern," she mused out loud.

"I will take us there," Sam said before the lull of warp magic whitened her vision.

She felt her feet upon the hard ground again, swallowing nausea. "Please, Sam, give me more warning before doing that in future," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. From what she could tell, the courtyard had turned in to a loud and ordered chaos.

"Apologies, I may have been over-eager." He flinched when he realised what he had just said, quickly changing the subject, "arriving on Wyvern… you mentioned he was afraid of heights."

"He is. Unless that was a lie as well." She griped.

"I doubt it," he said with a devious smirk, pointing discreetly in Hubert's direction.

Hubert was already dolling out orders to the guards, his hair was wild, skin pale as snowfall on a grave. Her heart beat like a drum upon the sight of him, legs moving of their own accord, desperate to bridge the gap between them. When their eyes met his orders halted and he strode over, meeting her halfway.

When they met, she all but collapsed into his arms and he held her tighter than she had ever felt.

"I've missed you," she whimpered into his coat, trying to keep a modicum of composure. The scent of his hair and the warmth of his embrace, it was as if a flower had bloomed in her mind and she could not help but smile brightly.

"Are you in good health? You did not get injured, did you?" he said in a deep voice, whispering into her ear, unwilling to break away from her.

"Please, don't concern yourself, I'm fine… we're fine."

"I should not have allowed you to leave without me."

"Still in one piece, aren't I?" she replied, trying to lighten his mood.

"That is not the point."

"I heard you rushed here on the back of a Wyvern."

"Some feelings are stronger than mere phobias… especially when it concerns you and our child."

He then looked past her towards Samael who was stood a few steps back.

"I – wait – why does the boy have the same haircut as me? … Never mind. I do not want to know." He shook his head before quickly changing the subject. "You are dismissed, Samael. Your naivety and lack of foresight disturbs me somewhat. Perhaps you're not as suitable as I previously thought. We will speak later on the reason why you withheld information from me."

"Don't be hard on him, that was my decision," she warned before grabbing his hand. "Walk with me, there is a lot I wish to discuss with you."

"Judging by your tone this will not end well for me."

"Such a pessimist," she teased.

On their way to Henneman's office, they discussed much, mostly revolving around the mission in Hyrm and the attack on the holy tomb. Though their conversation sombre they never once let go of each other's hand. As they entered the room Hubert shifted uncomfortably.

"Test this for me. You do not bear a crest," she asked, gesturing to the machine.

"Neither do you," he replied bluntly, clearly at a miss to the purpose of such an act.

"Humour me."

He exhaled briskly and placed his hand over the device.

"Nothing, as expected. Care to tell me what this is about?"

She did not reply, instead, placing her hand over the pedestal. The orbs of light gathered and flickered, just as before, barely able to take shape. At first, she thought it was an error with the machine, but that was not the case. A semblance of a crest remained inside her; she was sure of it.

"How is that possible?" he asked.

"It would seem our dear child has a crest," she replied.

"Who else knows of this?"

"Only Seteth."

"Good. Then we should keep it that way."

"There is also another matter I wanted to bring up with you."

He watched in silence, awaiting her question.

The conversation with Sothis was on the tip of her tongue, yet another curiosity tugged at her mind, begging to be answered.

"Sam has a minor crest of flames," she said, watching him for any sort of waver.

His eyes widened and he ran a hand through his hair. The silence was heavy, only broken by the soothing hum of the crest apparatus. "Yes, I am aware of that detail about him. I presume you want to know how he attained it."

"He was experimented on, by the Agarthans… like Edelgard was, he told me as much."

"That isn't the full truth, he did not need to be implanted with a crest, as Lady Edelgard did. As much as it pains me to tell you the reality of the situation, I believe you deserve to know. I only hope you forgive me for keeping it from you for so long."

It was Byleth's turn to be silent. She felt her heart pulse in her ears.

"Lady Edelgard is Samael's mother," he said frankly, daring not to meet her gaze.

"How is that possible?" she whispered, "It makes no sense, the age difference between them alone -" she stopped when a wave of nausea bit at her throat, she placed a clammy hand on her forehead as the realisation sank in. "You… you're his father, aren't you?"

"Yes," he replied under his breath.

"By the goddess," she mumbled as she felt her legs weaken. Hubert caught her with an arm around her waist. He took her over to a nearby sofa, pushing all the paperwork to the floor to clear a seat. She sat in quiet for a moment, trying to make sense of it all.

"Care to explain this to me?" she breathed.

"We do not know the true reason why – only speculation and what shreds of truth we managed to uncover. I believe it began as an Agarthan experiment to see if implanted crests could be inherited. With Edelgard too young to bear children at the time, they had to resort to other methods. Whether or not they used surrogates or other procedures is unknown to us." He looked defeated as she pushed another stack of documents away, sitting beside her. "Why they decided to involve me in it all is still up for conjecture. Perhaps they needed someone of crestless blood to prevent interference… what we know for certain is that they intended to use the child a means to control us."

She sat wide-eyed, willing him to continue.

"Thales made Samael's existence known to us shortly after Lady Edelgard was crowned Emperor. She disowned the boy without a second thought, fully aware that he would possibly be culled or relegated to further experiments… I followed suit."

"You sent him back?! To be tortured or worse!?" she replied, voice raised. Her jaw clenched as she tried to choke back the tears.

"However heartless, it was necessary."

"Is that how you justify everything he has been through? A mere necessity?! Surely, you've seen those scars on him! what did they do to him?"

"I do not know," he replied bitterly, voice shaking through the anger. "Why do you think I brought him into my service? I tried to keep him safe. It was the only way I could without it raising questions."

"How long has he been an agent of yours?" She asked bluntly.

"Three years. He was given as a gift to assist in the war effort. I presumed they couldn't bring themselves to kill him, given how powerful the crest is, even a minor one. However valuable, they never came back for him after the war was won. Perhaps they had exhausted their use for him, the full answer is, we are unsure."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" She asked. Her heart bled for the young boy, some primal part of her needed to shield him. She couldn't help but give in to it.

"We had no intention to. The fewer people who know the better."

"I always wondered why you had doubts about being a good father. Now I know," she seethed, standing on shaky legs. "We are protecting him."

"Byleth -"

"You swore that you wouldn't become like your father!"

"This is entirely different!" he spat.

"Really? How so?" she asked, "However capable, he is a child, Hubert. Your child, just as much as this one. Should I fear that you may relegate my child into forced vassalage as well?"

"Perish the thought – I would never do that to our child."

"How is Sam any different?"

"I could not be seen to provide him with preferential treatment. I assigned him to you because it was safer, it was the most I could do for him."

"It can't go on like this, he has suffered enough. You said it yourself: the Agarthans never came back for him. Even if they did, they won't get far within Enbarr."

"What will you have me do?" He asked, his demeanour softening.

"Release him from your service and let him choose his own path." She said, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

It was a tense moment, neither breaking eye contact.

He placed a hand on hers.

"If I do this for you…" he said, voice lowered in warning, "you must not divulge his heritage… to anyone. Is that clear?"