Auhor's Notes: nada
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Guest - Yup. Felix and Annette maaaaaay be a pairing in this story.
18th of the Month (Bernadetta and the No Good, Very Bad Day)
-v- Byleth -v-
Byleth tossed the flapping carp into the bin. It was his fifth catch of the morning. The fish grew fat and numerous in the large self-contained pond the monastery held on its southern facing. Fishing here was lazy. There was little challenge, but that perhaps was the point. Since a good portion of local meals drew protein from the fish, it kept the monastery well-fed and lightened the burden of acquiring food. Plus, most anyone could fish here and find some success.
The ease with which he caught did spoil the relaxing nature of the activity, though. He hardly had time to settle his thoughts before the next fish bit. While he was well-practiced in detaching his thoughts from his actions, it was nothing like the cathartic mornings he and Jeralt had spent on riverbanks.
Five was enough for the morning. It was time to decide whether to keep fishing and throw back his catches, or call it a morning. The sun was just starting to creep over the mountain peaks. His class would be going out today; a nearby village had petitioned the Central Church for aid in dealing with bandits. As the threat seemed minor, Archbishop Rhea offered the opportunity to the professors as a chance for battle practicum. Unsurprisingly, Manuela had passed the offer on, though insisted she would take it if he and Hanneman were unavailable. It went without saying that Byleth accepted. The personal desire to stretch his legs could not be denied. Moreover, any chance to test his students was a welcome one.
Assuming Dimitiri had passed on instructions, which of course he had, the students would be waking and taking advantage of the precious pre-dawn hours. Breakfast was at dawn, then an hour to prepare themselves before setting off. One or two had already left their rooms, either to complete their assigned chores or get a head start on their preparations. From where he sat, he had a clear line to the southern stairwell and the gardens. Leonine had gone inside some time ago to water the plants in the Golden Deer section.
He set his fishing rod on the paved stones and closed the bin. The chefs would appreciate the extra supplies.
"Good morning, professor!"
There were very, very few things that could catch Byleth unawares. Trained by Jeralt from his infancy to fight and survive, he had learned how to listen to the softest sounds, how to read silence by the void it created. The Battleborn mercenaries most often attributed his presence to that of a hawk. Always searching for prey, never taken by surprise. He could count on one hand the number of times in his adult life he had been caught unawares and still have fingers to spare. Jeralt had once boasted that there was not a soul in Fodlan that could ambush him.
Mercedes Martritz did not seem to care.
The demure girl had approached within striking range without drawing the slightest bit of attention. How she did it, Byleth could not figure out, but this was hardly the first time Mercedes appeared without his notice. Fighting to suppress the shiver of unease that accompanied her stealthy appearance, he rose and turned to greet his student.
"Mercedes. You are up early."
"Oh, I have been up for some time," she said with her endearing smile. When she smiled her cheeks seemed to pinch her eyes closed. The expression was unfamiliar to him, but Byleth had been informed that some people had such a generous smile that it took over their whole face. Mercedes was that sort of person. Her warmth and loving nature overflowed at every moment, soaking those in her presence with a sisterly affection that disarmed even the most passionate of angers.
Or, in his case, set his skin crawling with his ingrained distrust of smiles.
"I did not see you leave your room. There aren't many who wake before I do."
"You are quite an early riser," she agreed. He glanced down at her hands, clasped delicately in front of her waist. A well-used copy of Psalms of Saint Seiros peered out at him from behind her fingers.
"Praying at the chapel, I take it?"
"Yes. I was asking the goddess that she look over us all today."
"I am sure your classmates will appreciate that."
"Some more than others," the older girl admitted, though her smile did not diminish. "It brings me great comfort to know that she will be watching us. I said a special prayer for you, Professor. As our teacher, you place a great burden on yourself the instant we set foot outside the monastery's walls. I asked that she grant you peace and understanding, and that you will bring us all home safe."
"Appreciate it."
His gruff tone could easily be misunderstood; that was a fact of life he had grown accustomed to. Mercedes always seemed to know what he intended to convey, however. Her pale blue eyes roved down to the bin at his feet.
"It looks like you were finishing up. Are you taking these to the dining hall?"
"I was." He bent down and picked up the bin and rod.
"Would you mind if I come with you? I was going to drop my book off in my room before going to breakfast, but I would not mind accompanying you."
"Sure." He deposited his fishing rod in its space at the fishing shed and started towards the steps that led up to the dining hall. That wing of the monastery was blessedly close to the pond. Carrying a bin full of fish was hardly fun, but at least he only had to deal with it for a short time. His student fell into step beside him, her heeled shoes clicking on the stones in time with his heavier, booted footfalls.
How did she sneak about with those shoes? He had not noticed any of the students or staff mention a similar trait about the girl. Was he really the only one? That thought had crossed his mind more than a few times. The implications were troubling, and he decided he should speak to Jeralt about it. A person who owned his blind spot was a danger even if they intended no harm.
"Professor?"
Her smile had faded, replaced by an expectant frown. Eyeing him with that quiet grace she wore so easily, she seemed to be asking what was on his mind without needing to speak. The instinctive desire to reply to her silent question tugged at him, but he held himself in check. Confiding private thoughts to a student begged for intrigue and trouble.
"Something the matter, Mercedes?"
"One could ask you that, professor. You look troubled."
"I always look troubled, or so I have been told."
Her inquisitive expression grew pensive. "My, that is rude of whoever told you that. There is a clear difference between a serious expression and a troubled one. What is on your mind, Professor? You can tell me."
"You are my student," Byleth reminded her. He did not intend for the statement to sound so accusatory. "If something were troubling me, it would be unfair to lay them on you. Your wellbeing is my responsibility."
"Certainly. But someone must look after you, Professor."
He considered her words. To be honest, there was no one that he truly leaned on. Jeralt offered support when asked, but their relationship had always been… professional. It had not been Byleth's way to ask for help, or to look to others for aid. Never had been, likely never would be. The thought of doing it, well, it could be a comfort, he supposed. Had he not been thrust into the responsibility of this professorship, he might have liked it.
"I appreciate your concern, Mercedes. Should I need it, I will reach out to someone who can assist. What you should be worrying about is a strong breakfast and the day ahead. It is a fair ride to Lodering."
She giggled. Her laughter tinkled like chimes in the wind.
"Food and fighting. Spoken like a true warrior."
He shrugged, uncertain how to reply to that. He was a warrior, after all. Food, fighting and f… his chief concerns in life were simplistic. Had been simplistic. Allowing himself a stolen glance at the laughing blonde's profile, he had to admit, she was a striking beauty. There was an ethereal wonder about her, like a statue from the time of Saints and Heroes come to life. Her beauty belonged in the age of myths.
Distraction.
Blinking those thoughts aside, Byleth stepped out ahead of his student and pulled open the dining hall's doors. Once dawn was announced by the plucky roosters these doors would be opened and remain open until sundown. For now, though, they snuck in like children seeking hidden treats in the pantry. Which was not to say that the dining hall was empty. Servants and staff bustled about tidying the chairs and tables. The kitchens were a chaotic swarm of activity as meals were prepared and the menu was finalized. A weary-looking man in a grease-stained apron approached them with a severe expression, cutting them off before they got four steps into the hall.
"Now look, students, there's at least an- Professor Eisner, I apologize. I thought the two of you were students."
"Brought fish," Byleth announced, gesturing with the bin. "Four carp and a pike."
"Ah, we have carp on the menu." The man accepted the bin and bowed. He also expertly popped the lid and inspected the morning's catch. "The pike is not, but we can whip something up for you if you would like, professor. I reckon we can feed four or five with this monster."
"That would be excellent. Thank you, Uriah."
The chef grinned at his name being remembered. No doubt the other professors had one or two people whose names they could recall at a moment's notice. The mercenary profession required a good head and eye for faces. Names were important. It was rare that he forgot a face or a name.
The man scurried off to get the food ready, leaving Byleth and Mercedes alone. Both stood silently for a moment, waiting for the other to speak. When the wait became uncomfortable, Byleth indicated a table that had been freshly adorned with a cloth cover. The pair strode over and took their seats. Though the hall was not yet open, the servants did have coffee and tea brewed; it was a necessary part of their morning equipment. One server thoughtfully rolled over a cart and offered. Mercedes took Albinean Berry Blend tea, noting with relish that it was a favorite of her brother, Emile. Byleth took coffee.
"This scent reminds me of home," Mercedes informed him, holding the steaming cup in both hands. Ordinarily she would have taken it in a teacup, but this was hardly the time and place. The ease with which she sipped at her tea, despite its poor adornment in a basic clay mug, reminded Byleth that Mercedes was both a noble and not. Born to a noble house, ousted to a life of poverty, raised in a church, and then adopted into a well-to-do commoner household. Like too many of her fellow students, her life had not been easy before coming to Garreg Mach. There was something admirable about her comportment because of that. Having seen so much suffering, her heart to those who likewise suffered was… selfless. She was a good person, far better than most he had interacted with.
"That must be a comfort," he mused, draining half of his own mug in one go. The coffee was rather lukewarm, having been out for some time. He only needed its energy, not flavor, so the impact was negligible.
"It is," she confirmed. "Emile and I used to go out in the park and play on mornings like this. It was the only time the park was quiet. Oh, our father complained when we would come back all scuffed and dirty. But he would always have this tea waiting for us." She sighed softly, her thoughts hundreds of miles away.
"You miss them."
"I do." Her smile returned, as radiant as the sun. "But I know they are doing well. I write to Emile every week, to tell him all about Garreg Mach and the wonderful people here."
"Hm…" His mug was empty now. Byleth stared at it wistfully, debating whether to bother the servants for another pour. He could wait until breakfast. They were busy enough without him interfering.
"I wrote him about you too, Professor." Mercedes set her mug down and laced her fingers around it.
"Did you now? What did you have to say?"
"Now, that would be telling." Her eyelashes fluttered coyly, and she… goddess, that was an enchanting face. Byleth bit down on his tongue, forcing his thoughts into the pain to tear his gaze away from her mesmerizing expression. He found himself wishing he had more coffee, if only to use the mug as an excuse to distract himself.
They chatted about this and that until the doors were opened and most of the student body came piling in. Mercedes did most of the chatting. Byleth largely listened and nodded along. He did not like talking without purpose, without a plan. And he still had a few kinks to work out in the battle order he had planned for the day's excursion. Without Annette and Sylvain, he had two glaring holes in the standard lineup. Annette had a superb grasp of Wind Magic, and Sylvain's speed and lance skills worked superbly as a first-strike fighter. In their place he had an archer and a… a malingerer. Manuela had warned him that Hilda would look for nearly any excuse to get out of work. Would she put the lives of her fellow students at risk? He doubted it, but he had no real experience with seeing her fight. After all, she always had somewhere else to be when the optional sparring sessions were drawn.
Normally he would have hopped into line with the others for food, but with the pike being prepared as a special order, it would be delivered to his table. Mercedes remained seated as well; it went without saying that she would be joining in the meal. Which left a few seats should others ask. He did not plan on inviting anyone. The curious and inquisitive often came asking to share a table. Perhaps Manuela might join them. He could not lie, he would hardly complain about sitting across from the buxom siren, formerly of the Mittelfrank Opera Company. Her attire was immensely satisfying.
With the onset of students and other morning eaters, the hall quickly filled with the drone of background conversation. Byleth busied himself in another two cups of coffee, provided by the servants as they wheeled carts between the rows. It would be closer to the middle of breakfast time before the pike was finished. He could afford to wait. Mercedes likewise showed little impatience, and continued regaling him with tales of her brother Emile, and how close the two had been during her brief time in House Bartels.
"Mercedes!"
Annette appeared out of the crowd, followed by the roguishly grinning Dorothea. The pair of lovely young ladies greeted him warmly and took seats on either side of Mercedes without bothering to ask for permission. He had to admit, he admired their bluntness. Most students would have not dared sit without requesting permission. Then again, Dorothea was not one to ask permission. The young songstress winked cheekily at him before joining into the lively conversation that burst out between Mercedes and Annette.
"Sitting alone with the Professor, Mercie? You're pulling a fast one on the class, aren't you?"
"No, I merely encountered Professor Eisner by the pond, and he escorted me to the dining hall with the fish he had caught." The blonde-haired student flashed him an adorable expression of helplessness.
"Fish? My, my, professor." Dorothea's grin had a decidedly sly tone to it. "You are going to have to step up your game. You can't fish your way to a girl's heart."
"What?" Mercedes' distress colored her cheeks.
Byleth huffed and regarded the Black Eagle student. "Dorothea, please. It is unfair to Mercedes. She was on her way to the dining hall and I walked with her. Don't make it out to be anything else. It only serves to reinforce your reputation as a gossip."
"But I am a gossip," the songstress tittered. She glanced over at Annette. "By the way, I have to tell you how much I appreciate you sending over Annette and not, heavens forbid, an utter bore like Felix. When time comes around, would you please make sure that he goes to the Golden Deer, or at least give me enough warning I can beg Hanneman to send me out of the house for a month?"
"Dorothea," Annette gasped, her laughter spilling past her false horror. All three girls broke out in quiet laughter.
The prospect of sharing a meal with three chirping birds was decidedly not welcome.
"May I join you, Professor Eisner?"
Some small measure of rescue came in the form of Ashe. The young man waited patiently for confirmation, and eagerly plopped down to Byleth's right after the professor gave him a nod.
"You haven't gotten anything," Ashe observed. He frowned, and looked at his own plate. A meager eater, the Blue Lions' resident archer had a small meal consisting of a single slice of carp, a salad, and a block of cheese. Nutritious, but small. It was Ashe's nature to offer to help, and Byleth feared the student might offer some of his own meal.
"The Professor caught a pike," Mercedes said, answering for Byleth. "The chefs are preparing it specially for him."
"But Mercedes, you also don't have any food." Annette pointedly started to shove her own platter in front of her best friend. Then, with dawning realization, she hesitated and glanced between Byleth and Mercedes. "Don't… you're eating the Professor's pike?"
Dorothea snorted, nearly spitting up her tea.
"There is enough for several people," Byleth explained, brushing over the red-faced Dorothea as the girl valiantly heaved for breath, one hand over her mouth to silence her no-doubt hysterical laughter. "You are welcome to it."
A crestfallen grimace came over the red-head's face. Picking awkwardly at her plate, Annette shrugged. "Well, I already have food, and I would hate to waste it."
"Nonsense, Annette." Mercedes reached over and plucked the fork from her platter. "We can share what you took, then we can both have room for Professor Eisner's pike."
"Dorothea, are you okay?" Annette eyed Dorothea in confusion. The songstress was gasping, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"I'm fine," she croaked. Wiping her eyes with a clean napkin, she took a calming drink and steadied herself.
"I would not have though you to get so worked up over a pike," Byleth said.
Dorothea flinched, her cheeks bulging for a moment as she fought to contain another round of laughter. Swallowing with difficulty, the student coughed and thumped her chest. Her own rescue came in the form of a large platter of pike, carried by two chefs. Garnished with butter and onions, and laid out on a bed of salad, the fish emitted a mouthwatering aroma as it was set down on the center of the table. The students cooed over the delicious meal, and quite a few jealous stares settled on them.
Byleth wasted no time in spearing a chunk of meat from the pike's belly and dumping it on his platter, delivered by a third servant who set out a full array for himself and Mercedes. The meat pulled apart in his mouth, melting deliciously. He offered a soft grunt of approval.
"You caught that," Ashe asked, eyeing the fish with amazement. "That is a monster."
"It smells amazing," Mercedes exclaimed. "Thank you so much for sharing, Professor."
Eyes open for a sixth person to share the table, Byleth accepted their gratitude and worked through a good portion of the fish, taking care to collect the salad drenched in butter and grease and devour it as well. If things went as he expected, he would burn a good amount of energy before the day was over.
The crowd had settled, with most of the inhabitants having made it through line. A few of the more aggressive eaters were already returning to the serving area for seconds, notably the giant Raphael. Here and there a straggler made their way inside, but the sixth seat remained empty. That was fine. The students dug into the pike with enthusiasm, and between the five of them the fish was reduced to a pile of bones in short order.
Once he finished, Byleth excused himself and moved to inspect the stables. Riding to and from Lodering would be an assessment in and of itself. Most of the Blue Lion students were adept riders, with Mercedes being the exception. While the blonde was competent and could remain on her mount, she did not have much confidence in controlling the beasts. Still, he was satisfied that all seemed capable, unlike some of the other houses. But of course, no one held a candle to the proficiency and ease that Marianne had with her mount. The mournful-eyed girl was a genius of a rider, and her bond with Dorte so deep that students questioned whether she could speak with the horse.
As expected, he found the shy student off in the corner of the yard, brushing Dorte's hair and fussing over his coat. Choosing to not approach lest he disturb her, Byleth offered a curt nod and continued to the main gate of the enclosure. Sylvain and Ingrid greeted him there. The pair had finished breakfast early, knowing that Ingrid's morning duty of assembling mounts would take some time. Despite the still-early hour, both appeared bright and awake, and were discussing which mounts to give Hilda and Bernadetta with the stablemaster.
"Professor!" Sylvain tossed his hands behind his head and beamed at his teacher. "Thought you would have been here sooner. We're almost done."
"You're assigned to Golden Deer this month," Byleth reminded him.
"Yeah, but Manuela doesn't have anything going on today. I thought I could pitch in and help. It would be fun to ride with you all down to Lodering."
Byleth considering the idea in silence. As long as the house professors gave permission, students could reach across the aisle and pitch in however and wherever they wanted. He doubted that Sylvain had broached the topic with Manuela, but he also doubted Manuela would notice.
"I did ask," Sylvain assured him. "And she said I could."
"The horses have been fed and watered?"
"Feeding them now," the scion of House Gautier confirmed, tilting his head down the aisle. "Only thing we need is a horse for you, Bernadetta and Hilda."
"It appears that neither Bernadetta or Hilda have claimed horses," Ingrid added. "I believe Hilda has no particular tastes, but Bernadetta is such a timid thing that I am uncertain what kind of horse she would ride."
"Have you asked her?"
The students exchanged embarrassed looks, then shook their heads.
"Ah… no, we did not." Sylvain shrugged. "Would you mind, Ingrid? She gets terrified when I try and talk to her."
"The smart women should," Ingrid breathed, but flashed a friendly smile. "Do you happen to know where she might be, Professor?"
"Her room, most likely." Byleth turned to leave. "I'll take Odin if you haven't already decided. Once the horses are ready, pull them out into the yard and let them walk about. The class will be here within the hour. Do either of you need to return to your rooms for preparations?"
"Got everything I need right here," Sylvain crowed, indicating a saddle resting against the doors, his lance, sword and day-bag lying beside it.
"I will grab what I need after finding Bernadetta," Ingrid said. "Please excuse me, Professor."
She ducked past him, jogging off towards the student dormitory. Byleth watched her go for a moment before sneaking a glance back at Sylvain. The insufferable flirt was also eyeing the disappearing girl, but with a surprisingly honest warmth that was entirely at odds with the usual way he sharked after attractive women. Sensing his professor's attention, Sylvain hastily wiped the grin from his face and went back to discussing a horse for Hilda with the stablemaster.
He spent the next hour checking on Dedue and Felix at the armory, then ensuring that Hilda and Ashe had acquired travelling meals from the cooks. By the time he finished checking on the students it was time for assembly. Nine students stood waiting in the stable yards, inspecting their horses and doing final touch-ups on their saddles and grooming. As he had expected, the beautiful Golden Deer student had insinuated herself into the middle of the crowd and was standing by showering Ashe with appreciation as the boy worked on her saddle. At the head of the group, Dimitri and Dedue stood close together, their horses immaculately prepared. The prince of Faerghus held Odin's reins as well, and nodded respectfully as Byleth approached the class. As one, the students fell silent, and all turned to regard him with expectation.
His gaze swept over each face before speaking. Sylvain and Ingrid on the right, Felix in the center with a surprisingly wide berth around him, and Mercedes stood in the rear, not out of malingering but merely the desire to not be in the way. The only one who truly stood apart was Bernadetta, who huddled beside a grey courser. The Black Eagle student hid her face behind the horse as he glanced in her direction.
"The village of Lodering petitioned the church for aid," Byleth announced, repeating the task as he had the day before. "Someone tell me, what is our primary objective?"
Mercedes raised her hand. "Protect the people of Lodering."
"Good."
The girl smiled, her face glowing like an angel.
"Next, what is the primary obstacle we expect to encounter?"
"Bandits," Ashe ventured, his arm half-lifted as if afraid to raise it all the way.
"How so, Ashe?"
"Well, uh, finding them, first. Then fighting them."
"Correct. Who can recount the success state?"
"Ah, I know this one!" Sylvain grinned. "We all come back alive and healthy."
"Wrong."
Sylvain blinked, confused that his sure answer proved incorrect. From a simplistic standpoint, it was correct. Byleth's job was to make sure they all came back alive. That alone qualified as a success. But not the success.
"While I appreciate the idea, and it is surely important, that is not what we discussed yesterday in class. You are excused because you were in a different classroom. Now, for someone who was there, what is the success state?"
Ingrid snickered and elbowed her childhood friend.
The prince of Faerghus answered this time. "Complete the task to the village's satisfaction. This includes at minimum driving off the bandits so that Lodering will not be in future danger, but may be expanded into the full termination of the bandits, whether by blade or bindings."
"Thank you, Dimitri." Byleth accepted Odin's reins, the signal for the class to begin mounting their horses. It took but a moment to settle his boot in the stirrup and pull himself onto the saddle. Odin was a sturdier horse than he was used to; the horses in the monastery were much better fed and maintained than those in a mercenary troupe. While mercenary horses were hardly mistreated, they lacked access to the same level of goods and services that a dedicated facility contained. "Remember that, students. Our first goal is completing the objective. Defeating or driving off the bandits. That is why we are riding out. Your safety is just as important, so do not hesitate to pull back if you are outmatched or in excess danger. The bandits are your priority; keeping you alive is mine."
A few chuckles danced through the crowd. He eased his horse to the side and motioned for Dimitri to lead the way. Starting off at a slow walk, the future prince of Faerghus gave a very officious and commanding declaration to move out. Byleth watched each student as they passed, noting the way they sat on their horses, the tension in their bodies, and generally analyzing their moods. It went without saying that every minute of this trek would be graded. He was not a hardass; they would not be chastised for small things or basic actions. But he would be watching them for their skills, compatibility, and attitudes.
The last to pass was Bernadetta, whose whole body was rigid with terror as she eased her horse forwards, eyes fixed firmly ahead. The small thing was sweating, her breathing coming in barely restrained gasps.
"Bernadetta." Byleth maneuvered his horse alongside hers.
Remaining silent, the violet-haired girl turned to regard him with wide, fearful eyes. On foot, she possessed remarkable speed and agility, so much that Byleth could not help but plot out a multitude of uses for the girl in combat once she grew accustomed to such things. He had to shake the thoughts from his head. His goal was not to raise killers, but to raise officers. For some, like Bernadetta, it was far better to hope they never had to shed more blood than was absolutely necessary.
"Is the horse acceptable?"
She squeaked, her cheeks reddening.
"I know this is your first time riding without your usual classmates." He considered reaching over to pat her shoulder, a gesture Jeralt insisted that most found reassuring, but held off. With a girl like Bernadetta, it would do more harm than good. "The Blue Lions will take care of you. Do not be afraid to seek help as you need it."
"Uh-huh," the girl managed to mutter.
A few more words resulted in the same silence or muted answers. After what he deemed a sufficient number of attempts, Byleth moved up the column to avoid speculation or embarrassing the girl. It was a four-hour ride to Lodering. He had plenty of time to speak with all the students. And, more importantly, enough time to ride by himself and enjoy a semblance of solitude. Being around so many subordinates was tiring, after all. Once they got to Lodering, he would need to be at his sharpest.
-v- Sylvain -v-
"The bandits are here."
The professor's stick jabbed into the sand drawing, marking the location so that there was no room for doubt. Beside the blue-haired professor, the village elder nodded along. There had been some confusion among the villagers when their column appeared. At first, they had been mistaken for Knights of Seiros; the revelation that they were merely a class of students from Garreg Mach's Officer Academy soured the locals' excitement. Some scoffed openly, insulted that their dire plight had been answered by youths.
It could not be helped, Sylvain thought to himself. The stink eye had followed them all the way to the elder's house, and now as they stood on the side of the road going over the plan, he could feel those gazes from all over. Hubris demanded he be offended by their disdain, but he reminded himself that the students had been chosen specifically because their professors had deemed it appropriate. With what little time they had with Professor Eisner, none doubted his ability to read danger. After all, he probably had more battle experience than all the students and other professors combined. There was some curiosity within their own ranks that he had chosen to not accept an escort from one of the many units available to the academy. Limiting their forces to a mere ten bodies was… bold.
His skin crawled with nervous excitement. This would be a harrowing test of their abilities. They had all seen Bernadetta's prowess with a bow. Though the shy girl absolutely hated others watching, she landed bullseyes with near effortless skill when on the line. Sylvain even doubted Ashe was her equal, at least where archery was concerned. And Hilda… well, aside from her beautiful looks and delicate body, she was reputed to be a vicious fighter when cornered into training. Her mystical ability to dodge any and all work pushed her way did encourage others to underestimate her skills.
"Sylvain." The professor's sharp bark drew his attention back to the present. He realized the whole class was staring at him. And he was staring at Hilda's amused grin. "When you are finished admiring Hilda's hair, we have work to do."
"I… sorry, professor." He grinned sheepishly and rubbed his temple.
Professor Eisner resumed his lecture as if nothing had happened. "As there are two approaches, the class will be split between a hammer and anvil. Dimitri, Dedue, Hilda, Sylvain, Ingrid and Mercedes will be the hammer. You will assault the bandit position from the western slope, where the open ground offers maneuverability. Push the bandits into their camp and they will break. Felix, Ashe, Bernadetta and I will set up on the southern path, where we will contain the rout and ensure none escape. Press them hard, but do not be reckless. As we are separating forces, I will not be there to watch the assault. Dimitri, I trust you with leading the hammer force."
"We will drive them out of their hole," Dimitri assured all present.
"Mercedes, engage if you must, but I want you on hand to heal anyone who is injured. Do not let yourself be drawn into the engagement."
"Absolutely," she agreed, bobbing her head. "Nurse Mercie is ready to assist."
"Ingrid, Sylvain, remain mounted and protect the flanks. Cut off any who try to break out past you, and pick off any outliers as they appear. Sylvain, once they break, I want you to ride down to the southern path and join us. Ingrid will remain on the plain and keep watch there. Also, if anyone is badly hurt, Sylvain, fetch me at once."
"You got it. We'll keep them hemmed in real good," Sylvain bragged. He went to throw his arm around Ingrid in a friendly fashion, but a stiff blow from her shoulder pushed his arm back. Her face was serious as she drank in the battle plan.
"Dedue and Dimitri, you will be the vanguard, with Hilda providing support."
The three chorused their agreement. Then it came down to the anvil force, the force that the professor would be handling directly. One could argue that was the more dangerous side. Once the bandits broke, they would become desperate. They would be fighting for their lives to push past the student on the path. And with only Felix and the professor as dedicated fighters, things could get out of hand real fast. It was good the professor would be there.
"Felix, I will entrust you to hold the path. It is a small one, so fighting side by side would only hinder us. If any get past you, I will provide the second line. Ashe and Bernadetta, I want you to find vantage points to rain arrows on the path. You can stand together or separate, but make sure you can see each other. If someone goes after you I want you two to defend each other first."
"You might as well go with the hammer force," Felix muttered. "I will hold that path with ease."
The professor ignored Felix's comment, his gaze switching between the two archers until they voiced their assent. Ashe was trembling slightly, the pre-battle jitters working through his system. Beside him, Bernadetta was pale as a ghost. She seemed ready to faint from the pressure of having everyone watching her. A teary gleam formed in her eyes, and she hastily nodded before running off to her horse to fetch something. It was interesting to note that the professor paused just long enough to ensure she was not sprinting past the horse for cover before resuming. Did he expect her to run away? Sylvain doubted the professor had that idea. But with a girl like Bernadetta, it was hard to tell.
"If they fight, kill them. If any surrender, take their weapons and gather them on the plain. Ingrid and Sylvain, guarding any prisoners will be your task. Dimitri and Felix, you are to search the camp for hostages and their loot cache. Identify and collect anything of value so we can return them to where they belong. Ashe and Dedue, search the dead, checked for badly wounded. Mercedes, you will be on healing detail. Whether ours or theirs, if you please. Hilda and Bernadetta, sentry duty. Any questions?"
"We are offering surrender?"
"Yes, Dimitri. If they lay down their weapons. They may be bandits, but they are still citizens of Fodlan. We are here to stop them, not butcher them. A contingent of church soldiers will reach the village by mid-afternoon. We will deliver any prisoners to the soldiers for judgement."
"Yes, of course."
The prince grimaced, as if the proclamation did not sit well in his soul.
"No one wants to die," Professor Eisner reminded them. "For most of them, they will surrender the instant they think they are losing. It is much easier to fight a man who thinks he might live than a man who knows he is doomed. An animal is at its most dangerous when backed up against a wall."
"I see. By offering surrender, they will be less likely to fight."
"Fight to the death, perhaps. Until we see what they are made of, there is no way to know for sure."
"Thank you for the explanation, professor."
"Now then, take a short break to eat, make sure you are hydrated. The village will take care of our horses, so leave them behind, save for Sylvain's and Ingrid's. Do a final maintenance check on your weapons too."
The students rose from the huddle, stretched their legs, and moved over to their horses. Dimitri remained behind, speaking with the professor in quiet tones, but Sylvain ignored it and joined Ingrid by their mounts.
"Man, going over to the Golden Deer house really makes it clear how different Professor Eisner is from the others," he told his partner. Ingrid eyed him curiously as she dug a steak sandwich wrapped in paper from her saddlebag.
"How so?"
"Well, if this was Manuela, her battle plan would be 'let's get them.' Working alongside a professional, it gives the whole thing a really different fell, doesn't it?"
"I see what you mean." Ingrid offered a wineskin, its contents heavily diluted. Accepting it gratefully, Sylvain sipped at the lukewarm liquid and sighed. "And it's Professor Manuela."
"Yeah, same thing. Seriously, though. Were you paying attention to him on the road. I have a feeling he's going to give us a grade on our riding when we get back. The man's got eyes like a hawk, and he never smiles. He's as opposite Manue- Professor Manuela, as you can get."
"And yet you don't sound disappointed." Her eyes closed for a moment as she munched on her sandwich. A happy groan eased out of her full mouth. "Hm, this cut is excellent. So gooood!"
"I mean, he's not so much fun to look at," he admitted, which earned him a cross look from his friend, "but I feel really confident about following him into battle. Professor Eisner knows his stuff. It's almost like he's done this battle before."
"A mercenary's chief goal is to complete his job with his life intact," Ingrid chided. "Unlike a knight, whose goal is to protect and serve even at the cost of his life. Don't forget that, Sylvain. He is exceptionally talented and knowledgeable, but he learned the art of killing, not the art of knighthood."
"Eesh, you're a critic." His good-natured smile faded for a moment as he unpacked his own sandwich and dug in with gusto. "Wow, this really is good. I'll have to thank Ashe and Hilda later."
They glanced around and saw the rest of the class had retired to the shade, where they sat or stood in idle conversation. Unlike the students, Professor Eisner stood at the edge of the road, his arms crossed with a pensive grimace on his face as he stared off into the forest. They all knew that grim look, the one he wore before a battle. It was a touch more sour than the rest of his expressions. Seeing it was almost reassuring.
"And here's this," Ingrid said, digging through her pack. She produced another bundle of paper, this one larger than the sandwich. Unrolling the paper, she revealed a pile of honey-coated nut skewers. Sylvain's stomach growled at the sight, even as he wolfed down the last bit of his sandwich. "I thought we might like a sweet snack."
"Ingrid, you're an angel," Sylvain breathed, plucking one carefully by the skewer. The sticky coating would be a mess to clean, so he carefully held it at arm's length while he waited for the saturated bits to drip off.
"I though you would like it. Come on, let's join the others."
Carrying her sweet treasure, Ingrid marched over to the others and set about passing out the skewers. Their classmates accepted eagerly, hurrying to grab a sweet before they were all taken. Only Bernadetta refrained, standing at the far side of the building, eyeing the others with that envious shyness she so often wore. Sylvain eyed his skewer for a moment, and counted the others. His grin froze on his face when he realized his mistake.
There weren't enough. Ingrid had made them thinking there would only be nine. By coming along, he had thrown off her count and that meant someone wasn't going to get one. And Bernadetta was holding back, so she would miss out before she realized.
Shaking his head mournfully, Sylvain walked over to the violet-haired girl. Bernadetta flinched at his approach, her body language growing taut and nervous as he drew up alongside her. Pressing into the wall, she lowered her head and made a point of not making eye contact.
"Hey, Bernadetta. You look a little lonely over here. Want a honeyed nut skewer?"
"No, I, uh… that's okay. I don't want to take yours."
"Mine? No, Ingrid made enough for you guys. I came along afterwards, so I'm the odd man out. This one belongs to you. She made one for each of you, after all. Besides, you like sweets more than I do."
"It's fine. I don't wan-"
"I insist!" He grabbed her before she could escape and carefully placed the skewer in her palm. Bernadetta went pale as snow, eyes bulging at the sight of his hand on her wrist. "You are far too lovely to miss out on such a snack. Please, enjoy it. It would make my day."
"This… isn't a trick, is it?" Her fingers closed on the skewer, but her gaze remained suspicious as she peered up at him. "You're up to something."
"Me? I just saw you over here and thought you could use the sweets." Sylvain shook his head. A creeping tingle swept up his spine and he became acutely aware that the others were watching him. He could feel Ingrid's suspicion boring into the side of his skull. "You also looked a bit lonely, and I wanted to invite you in to join the others."
"I'm… I like being by myself. Thank you for the snack." Her head bobbed furiously once, and Bernadetta slinked past him, hurrying off to the sanctuary of her horse. Sylvain watched her go with a wistful smile.
"That went better than expected," he murmured.
"Hey, Sylvain!" Ashe waved him over. "The professor didn't want his. One's left."
His stomach growled again. The skewers really did smell amazing.
-v- Byleth -v-
"Here they come."
The first stage of the assault went off without a hitch. Dimitri led his half of the class in a lightning strike that caught the bandit sentries by surprise. Ingrid and Sylvain neutralized them before they could reach the entrance of the camp, and the bandits were still grabbing their weapons when Dimitri threw himself into battle. Within moments, the camp had descended into a cacophony of shouts, cries, and metal ringing against metal. Surprised and overwhelmed by the unexpected assault, most of the camp broke and ran for the southern path.
Felix and Byleth stood ready to halt them. Ashe had clambered further up the slope, finding a flat ledge from where he had unrestricted aim down the path. Bernadetta chose a more subdued approach, standing a bit off to the side near the river's edge. It was about a fifteen foot drop to the water, presenting a natural barrier that would funnel any escapees away from her. Smart, but it also meant she had nowhere to retreat to if something were to come after her.
It seemed highly unlikely, but something worth noting in their post-battle review. For now, he loosened his grip on his sword and forced himself to take slow breaths. Sylvain's red hair flitted through the trees, coming steadily closer as he followed Byleth's orders to join them at the path. Hampered by the dense trees, his going was slower than could be hoped for, but judging by the panic on the expressions of the dozen or so bandits fleeing this way, they had little to worry about.
The paired twang of bowstrings announced their ambush. A pair of white-fletched arrows slammed into the frontrunners, taking one in the leg and the other in the shoulder. Both men went down in a tumble, and those immediately behind tripped over the flailing bodies. The whole rush disintegrated into a frenzy as those in the rear pushed forwards, and those in the front recoiled from the unexpected assault.
"Now, Felix!"
The black-haired boy charged forward to the predetermined spot where he could best stand his ground. To the uninformed, both shots would be deemed terrible aim. In a killing battle, they would be. But this was not a killing battle, and neither of his archers were incompetent. Both had put their arrows right where they meant to. Neither wound would be fatal, but it would disable their foes as surely as putting a sword to their throats.
Another volley of arrows brought two more howling to the ground before the rest reached Felix. Seeing a lone swordsman in their way, the eight bandits charged with as much ferocity as they could muster. Weapons raised with desperate cries, they descended on the lone student. Against a regular person, even those fearful men would have been an overwhelming concern.
Against Felix, scion of the Fraldarius house, they were a nuisance.
Stepping into the charge, Felix felled the first man with a slicing cut that severed the man's weapon hand at the wrist and opened his throat. Hardly pausing, he reversed directions and threw his weight into a lunge that speared the next man through the heart. Two perfect killing strokes. The unexpected skill gave the others pause, and they milled backwards uncertainly as two corpses slumped to the ground at his feet.
"Now would be the time you surrender," Felix growled, his voice dripping with disdain. Disappointment read clearly in his expression. He always looked for a worthy opponent. It had been a slim hope to find one here.
To reinforce his demand, Byleth stepped onto the path. Sylvain joined them seconds later, dismounting expertly with lance in hand. A third volley of arrows snapped into the path behind the men, causing the bandits to flinch.
"Drop your weapons and you will be taken prisoner," Byleth ordered. "Those that surr-"
Bernadetta screamed, and the bandits' eyes grew wide when they looked in her direction. Byleth turned to look even as he started moving, instinct pushing him to chase after his distressed student. A massive, hulking wolf-creature was bounding through the forest, heading straight for Bernadetta from across the river. It was larger than a bear, and a fierce red glow poured smoke-like from its eyes.
Screaming in terror, the violet-haired archer frantically nocked an arrow and leveled her bow, but she was not fast enough. The beast leapt across the river, clearing near thirty feet with ease, and came down on the helpless girl with a growl. Its teeth snapped around her chest, crushing her torso in the blink of an eye. Her agonized death-cry rang through the forest like a banshee's wail.
Stunned by the unexpected occurrence, Byleth cast his awareness out to the ever-present, but often hidden, observer who rested by his shoulder. Even the ghostly Sothis eyed the being with horror.
Take me back he demanded.
"Now would be the time you surrender," Felix growled, his voice dripping with disdain. Disappointment read clearly in his expression. He always looked for a worthy opponent. It had been a slim hope to find one here.
It always made him shiver. Turning back time left an energy sliding under his skin, tickling his nerves. Pushing off from his hiding place, Byleth rushed past Felix and the startled bandits. He rushed past Sylvain, who hesitated mid-dismount as their own professor went off-script. Byleth could see it in the distance, growing larger with alarming speed. Bernadetta had her third arrow drawn but eased her bowstring back as she gazed at him uncomprehendingly. Terror filled her eyes at the no doubt ferocious expression on his face.
"Move," he shouted, closing the distance. Though she was not far away, the beast was faster than he could believe. He was going to lose the race.
Behind him, weapons clashed again as the bandits made their last bid to escape. He did not care. Felix and Sylvain could take care of themselves. The monstrous wolf-thing was a far greater threat.
A glimmer of understanding sparked in Bernadetta's eyes and she turned to look. Her bow slipped from nerveless fingers as the sight of the monster.
"Aaaaaiiiiiieeeee!" Screaming in terror, Bernadetta dropped to a crouch, curling up in a protective ball. Byleth scowled and shouted at the beast, desperately trying to steal its attention. It worked, almost. The beast lunged over the river just as he skidded to a halt over Bernadetta, planting his feet for strength as he swung his swo-
Really, have we not had this conversation before?
He stood in the darkness, cloaked in an impenetrable shadow that clung to his limbs. The only light rested on the ancient, worn throne. The throne that Sothis perched wearily on as she eyed him with distinct, impish displeasure.
I could not let her die, he growled.
Yes, but you need not exchange your life for hers. You die, and I die. We have been over this. It is terribly inconsiderate of you to throw my own life away.
I cannot let her die.
And I am not asking you to. Sothis yawned, covering her small mouth with her dainty hand. Now, you must be more careful. I am exceptionally tired, and pulling you back is very draining. Please do not make me do it again.
"Now would be the time you surrender," Felix growled, his voice dripping with disdain. Disappointment read clearly in his expression. He always looked for a worthy opponent. It had been a slim hope to find one here.
Byleth started running.
He saw the beast tearing through the trees. He saw Sylvain hesitating on the saddle and shouted for him to stand with Felix. He heard the softly muttered curse of Felix as the bandits charged. He saw Bernadetta's confusion. Heard her scream of terror.
The beast was too fast for him to reach her and retreat.
When there is no path backwards, the only path is forwards.
Diving into a roll, Byleth snatched Bernadetta by the waist. The sobbing girl let out a shrill scream as the shadow of the beast blotted out the sun. He felt its hot breath and stabbed upwards with all his might. Sharp, tearing claws raked across his back. Exquisite agony unlike anything he had ever experienced lanced through his body.
And then they were in free fall.
-v- Bernadetta -v-
She woke in a cave. Not a large cave. More like a small hollow in the side of a river than a true cave. True caves were huge, and dark, and full of monsters. They reeked of old age and the blood of innocents and had shadows deeper than midnight that hid the terrors of death and despair.
As her consciousness returned to her, she realized that this cave was more of a hollow. Yes, definitely a hollow. The moss-covered rock she was laying on was still wet, and the forest greenery on the walls of the hollow resembled the kind one found on creek beds. It was all still slick and sticky; her clothes were soaked too. Had she fallen in a river? And had the current carried her into a hollow? None of it made any sense to her, but she was too preoccupied with understanding why the rocks were wet. Why was she wet? The gurgling of a river echoed behind her, and the red light of a setting sun flooded the hollow in a ghastly color.
It was almost nightfall. But hadn't it been mid-afternoon?
Wiping water from her face with her drenched sleeve, Bernadetta rose to her knees and groaned. Her body hurt all over. Aches and pains rose from every limb, every muscle. It wasn't… too bad. Like after an awful hour of wrestling that their professors forced them to endure. Arching her back slowly, she stretched and glanced about the hollow. It was hardly tall enough for her to kneel without scraping the ceiling. Barely her own body length wide, it might have housed a family of badgers, or rats. Rats! She hated rats. They were mean and they were nasty, and they had such huge teeth.
Her musing was cut short by the panicked realization that she was not alone. A body sat against the hollow near where it opened. She shrieked in fright, toppling over onto her back. After a few seconds of terrified anticipation Bernadetta opened her eyes.
"Pro… Professor Eisner?"
Her temporary professor sat awkwardly against the earthen side of the hollow. His head lay drooped on his chest, and his arms rested limply against the ground. A ragged, pained wheezing strained out of his lips as he slowly, ever so slowly lifted his head to look at her.
Bernadetta's heart froze in her chest at the horrible sight.
His face was bloody, an awful gash running across his forehead just over his right brow. Blood drenched his hands to the elbows, and his eyes had a peculiar dullness to them that she had never seen before. His eyes were always so terrifying, so dangerous. What had happened to him?
"You're… awake," he wheezed, each word sounding pained. "Good. Wasn't… sure you'd…"
"Professor Eisner, what happened to you?"
She reached towards him, reflexively staggering to her knees and scurrying closer. The professor's body had been ravaged. His cloak was tattered, the armor on his left arm hung loosely from a few stretched threads. The sight of it sickened her, filled her belly with a queasy sweetness that made her gag.
"Big wolf," he grunted. The simple effort left him panting for breath. "Did a num… number, on me."
"Are you… hold on, I've got vulneraries." She reached for her pack, and realized her pack was missing. Letting out a yelp of surprise, she glanced about the hollow. It was there, just beside him. And the three vulneraries lay empty beside the bag. "What… you used them?"
"Used… on you," he mumbled. "You were hurt… bad."
"I couldn't have been hurt. I feel-" She felt her sleeves and realized that it was not the moss that was sticky. Or, rather, the moss was sticky because of something else. In the red glow of the sun it was hard to recognize, but when she sniffed at her jacket, she recognized it instantly. Blood. Her clothes were drenched in blood. Was it her blood? Was that why she felt so terrible?
"I'll be… fine." As if to validate his obvious lie, her professor shifted his weight, easing up slightly on one leg. The armored skirt had been torn away, and she saw raw wounds hidden under the torn fabric of his pants. His breathing quickened, growing harsh for several seconds before he brought it back to a mostly calm level. "Just need… rest."
"Where are the others? Are we trapped here? Did we get lost?"
"Downriver," he answered. His eyes drooped, and his chin sunk into his chest. "They'll be looking."
"No. No no no no no no. Wake up, Professor." Bernadetta ducked low, twisting her aching back to stare into his half-closed eyes. "You need to stay awake. I don't… I don't know what to do. You can't leave me like this."
"Let… little rest," he whispered, his voice hardly audible.
Bernadetta felt the seizing panic, knew the crippling fear was sweeping over her. Tears formed in her eyes. "You can't leave me alone, Professor! I can't be alone like this. Not out here! I don't want to- Food. You need, food, right? Hold on a minute."
Her quiver was still on her hip, though the wooden container had cracked, and all her arrows were gone. For that matter, her bow was missing too. Forcing her fingers to move, she unclipped the flap she had on her quiver and stuck two fingers in the thin pocket on its side, searching for the tasty snack Sylvain had given her. She had held onto it, uncertain if it was a trick but unwilling to throw away such a nice smelling treat. Like her quiver, the skewer had snapped, and she poked herself on the splintered end of the skewer. A fragile cry died on her lips; her professor was fading and she was more terrified of being alone in the wild than being stuck in his presence. He wasn't scary like this. But she feared he wouldn't be anything in a little while.
Digging out the two pieces, she pushed the first against his mouth.
"Eat it," she begged. "Or lick it, or something. Honeyed nuts. It will help."
He hardly moved. She felt his breathing, weak and fragile, caressing her fingers.
"That sounds…" he coughed, and blood leaked down his chin. "Like… work."
"You're the one who says no pain, no gain," she chided, her voice frantic. Pressing the nuts between his teeth, she whimpered. "Please, eat it. Eat something. Just stay with me, Professor."
The faintest pressure caught the skewer, and she carefully dragged it back, letting the nuts remain in his mouth. He chewed softly, then swallowed, and a ragged exhale shook his frame.
"Ingrid's cooking," he murmured. "Damn… s'good."
"Eat," Bernadetta ordered. She fed him little by little, talking to him all the while. She wasn't sure what she was talking about. Her mind was so rattled that she hardly recognized what she was doing. But she knew if she kept talking, he would answer, or at least listen. When he finished the skewers she put her fingers to his lips and ordered him to lick the honey from her skin. It was hardly medicine, but honey was nutritious and sweet. Maybe it would help. At the worst it gave him something to keep himself busy.
The light in the hollow was fading. Less and less sunlight made it through the trees as it disappeared for night.
"We need to find the others," Bernadetta told him. "Can you move?"
"This wall…s'the only thing…my back t'gether," he mumbled weakly. "You can, go."
"Oh, no, no. I can't go on my own." Gazing at the opening of the hollow, she imagined all the wolves in the forest waiting for her on the other side. Her skin crawled, and the screaming voice in her head shrieked for her to find a darker hole to hide in. She blinked back tears and helplessly grabbed her vulneraries. There was not even a drop left. "I can't do it, Professor. It's too scary out there."
"Berna…ta, I am going… to die… 'fore I can move."
"No! You can't die on me!"
"Don't… think I get… a say," he mumbled again. His words were beginning to slur. "F…ow the riv…"
"Professor, I can't!" Her vision blurred with tears. She hated herself. She hated herself for crying. She hated herself for being afraid. Icy claws tore at her failing courage, and she wept openly, sobbing at his feet. "Don't leave me!"
"Hey…" His hand flopped weakly against her head. The shock of being touched broke her tears, and she gazed up with wide-eyed wonder at his pain-wracked face. Professor Eisner didn't even have the strength to close his fingers. "Doesn… matter. We… can wait. Together."
Her face flushed with heat. Anger surged through her, anger at herself that was altogether different from the self-loathing she so often felt. This was new, and it was terrifying. But it smothered her tears, drowned her in a white-hot rage that set her blood boiling. Her professor was dying. He had used all of their vulneraries to heal her instead of himself. She could not let him die because of her. Not even if he was a terrifying monster that glared at her from across the classroom. Not even if he forced her to leave the safety of her room and make her train with wooden swords against people as equally terrifying like Dedue.
She was not going to let him die.
Scrambling to a crouch, she patted herself down and found she had no weapons. She had nothing but a broken quiver. A beautiful dagger lay on the rocks by his side. It was the dagger he always wore, tucked into his belt like a fashion accessory. She had seen him pull it out once or twice; the professor used such a splendid blade for the most ordinary tasks like cutting potatoes. Grabbing the dagger, she checked the weight in her hand, and it felt right.
She could do this. All she had to do was go up the stream until she found someone. It was as easy as going to the dinin-
A wolf howled, somewhere close by. Bernadetta screamed in fright, dropping the dagger, and stumbled away from the exit. Her footing slipped on the rocks and she tumbled down, smacking her head so hard that stars burst in her eyes.
"No, no no no no no no!"
Pained tears blurred her vision again, and she wept as she clutched at her head, the sliver of courage she had possessed vanishing into the darkness. What was she thinking? She was not a hero. She was not a knight. She was just Bernie.
"I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I'm sorry!"
"…fine," her professor muttered, his harsh voice hissing through his teeth. "C'mere."
She crawled on her hands and knees. The bloody fingers that could swing a sword like it was a toy twitched upwards, and she obediently put her head against his hand. Nudging her softly, he drew her closer until she set her head down on his uninjured leg. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She was the worst. Couldn't even help the man who had saved her life. Worse than useless. Was he going to die because of her?
If she hadn't chosen to stand by the river, maybe the beast wouldn't have spotted her. Maybe it wouldn't have charged in to kill her, and her professor wouldn't have been hurt so badly.
"I'm so sorry," she murmured, sniffling back her tears.
"Shh…" he stroked her hair every so softly. It probably took all his strength to do even that. "Jus… rest. …ey'll come…"
Whimpering in the dark, Bernadetta clutched at his hand. Her professor's breathing grew fainter, more strained. Each shuddering heave stuck at her like a dagger to the heart. She flinched, again and again. If he died here, she would be alone. For all her life, she had desperately wished to be left alone. Not like this.
"I… I can do it," she whispered to herself.
Easing herself to her knees, Bernadetta reverently placed her professor's hand on his lap. His eyes were mostly closed, his breathing nearly unseen in how shallow it had become. The sight stopped her heart, and she prodded him to make sure he was still alive.
"I can do it, Professor Eisner. I'll… I'll go get help. You have to promise me that you won't die, okay?"
He did not offer a response.
Wiping her face, Bernadetta scooped his dagger up and steeled herself to try and go out of the hollow again. Her skin crawled at the thought of venturing out into the dark. The sun was down now. Nighttime was when all the terrifying monsters came out. She would get eaten alive. If she set foot outside they would come for her and they-
"No," she hissed, gripping the dagger so tightly her fingers ached. "I will find them."
Shuffling to the exit, she cast a last glance back at the silent professor. Her voice failed her, and all she could see was the broken corpse of a man who had sacrificed himself to keep her alive.
"You can do it, Bernie," she mumbled to herself.
Pulling back the hanging vines that covered the hollow, Bernadetta stepped out into the riverbank. Her shoes sank into the soft, wet sand. The last piercing rays of sunlight flitted through the trees, giving fragments of light that caused too many shadows for her liking. Just a step ahead, the quiet river bubbled and gurgled as it carried on its way.
Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of a hulking, monstrous beast just on the other side of the river. The thing was… it was insane. Standing twice as tall as she was, with limbs as broad as her torso and a mouth full of teeth like swords, the thing resembled a wolf grown to inhuman proportions. A smoky red light spilled out of its eyes, bathing its face in a hellish glow. Snuffling and snorting, the beast had its head down to the river, where it greedily gulped up water. The river grew red as it carried away from the beast, poisoned by a steady stream of blood leaking from somewhere beneath it. She thought she saw a glint of metal, like the pommel of a sword sticking out from under its chest.
She might have screamed. Bernadetta was so terrified she lost her senses. Legs gave way and she plopped down on the sand, her jaw slack with horror at the sight of the beast.
The wolf-thing's head lifted from the river. Its baleful eyes transfixed her, draining the blood from her face as the weight of its attention settled on her shoulders. Bernadetta knew full well what it was like to be prey. She felt it every day when her classmates were watching her, or when her professors singled her out. She had never felt the stomach-churning panic that she did now.
The beast snuffed, its face rippling as it bared its teeth in a snarl.
Bernadetta fled back into the hollow.
"It's coming," she cried out, a hysterical shrillness in her voice. "Oh gods, it's coming!"
Retreating as far into the hollow as she could, Bernadetta slid to her stomach and pinned to the ground, covering her head and slithering behind a few rocks in a vain attempt to hide herself. Her heart pounded in her skull, so rapid and fierce it left her dizzy. Fresh tears poured down her cheeks. Why had she stepped outside? It would not have seen her if she had stepped outside!
A red glow filled the hollow as the beast's head shoved the vines aside. Too large for the hole, it could only fit its head inside. The massive snout turned this way and that, snuffling like a pig looking for truffles as it detected the contents of the hollow.
The professor! She remembered too late that Professor Eisner sat just beside the entrance. He was completely at the beast's mercy.
Unable to believe how selfish she had been, Bernadetta peered out past the rocks. The monster's snout was too far forward to turn directly at her professor. Its eye was nearly level with him as it peered at the man. Hot, dripping saliva pooled about its gums and it snapped its teeth in irritation, struggling to push its head to the side to reach him.
She could see her professor's fingers twitching, attempting to form a spell. All the beast had to do was throw its head to the side, and he would be crushed against the wall. He needed a distraction.
"Hey!" Before she could stop herself, Bernadetta rose to her knees and waved her hands to attract the beast's attention. It was crazy! What was she doing? She was going to get herself killed! "Dumb dog! I'm over here!"
The wolf-thing's head snapped her way, presenting a gaping maw filled with teeth just waiting to grind her bones into dust. A whimper built in her throat, but she brandished her dagger desperately.
She didn't want to die.
With an inarticulate, agonized cry, her professor lurched off the wall and threw his fist into the beast's open mouth. A wave of blinding light flooded the hollow, then there was a clap and a bang. Heat as scorching as the fires of hell washed over her. Bernadetta crumpled to the ground, burying her head in her arms. The beast let out a strangled cry. A dozen heavy impacts shook the hollow, sending cascades of dirt and dust raining down on her. Her screams were drowned out by the beast's howls.
Other noises gradually filtered through her awareness. Shouts, cries, explosions. She did not lift her head again. Every time she did, something bad happened. Instead she crawled, her belly on the ground, sneaking forwards to where her professor lay, now slumped over on his side. The awful stench of burnt flesh made her gag and vomit. But she reached him and found those awful, accusing eyes vacantly staring at the far wall.
"Professor Eisner."
She cradled his head in her arms, weeping senselessly as what sounded like the apocalypse fell around them.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"