Part 1
Great Tree Moon
It is the year 1180. The Officers Academy, a prestigious university run by the Church of Seiros in Garreg Mach Monastery at the center of Fódlan, promises to have the most important year it has seen in some time.
Among the students enrolled are Edelgard, heir to the Adrestian Empire; Dimitri, crown prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus; and Claude, future leader of the Leicester Alliance. The three noble lords meet Jeralt and his enigmatic son Byleth while fighting brigands near Remire Village on the way to Garreg Mach. Jeralt was a captain of the Knights of Seiros, the church's military branch, until he went missing some years ago. When brought back to the monastery, Archbishop Rhea reappoints Jeralt and offers Byleth the opportunity to teach one of the Officers Academy's three houses.
Intrigued by the darkness seemingly lurking beneath Dimitri's protective chivalry, Byleth elects to lead the Blue Lions and its cohort of students from Faerghus.
The chattering buzz of a few dozen teenagers sitting around an empty classroom begins to settle when the doors to the Blue Lions classroom slowly open with a whining creak. Countless eyes look back to see three figures silhouetted by the warm, alluring light of spring now pouring in from outside.
As they moved into the more rustic and calm ambient light of the classroom, each became more defined.
In the middle, a few paces ahead of the others, was an administrator nearly everyone recognized as Seteth: Archbishop Rhea's right hand man. His unwavering glance toward the front of the room and purposeful gait; with arms folded behind the cape of his gold-trimmed, dark blue uniform; emanated the kind of serious academic tone he was well known for quashing any and all degrees of fun underneath.
Unlike the boy just behind him to the left, whom everyone in this particular class immediately knew to be the house leader. Dimitri took the opportunity to offer reserved waves and nods to various classmates around the room. His black armor slowly clunked behind Seteth, but just ahead of the loose blue cape around his left shoulder. All around came both the swoons of those entranced by his well-kept hair and icy blue eyes, as well as those intimidated by his noble presence.
Yet most of the room's attention was drawn to the mysterious man walking alongside Dimitri, whose green hair was dark like pond scum compared to the grassy knoll of Seteth's hair, beard and eyes. The man returned glances all across the room, but did not offer frivolous niceties like Dimitri. His face was stone, cold and calculating.
All three settle in front of a podium and turn toward the band of students, with the mysterious man and Seteth having swapped places so the administrator could stand closest to an empty chalkboard.
There's a somewhat awkward moment of silence that follows.
Under the intense gazes of the three authority figures, students begin to shuffle about on the benches. A few turn to one another and mumble theories about what was happening.
Then, as though he were waiting for the perfect moment, Seteth immediate shuts down the burgeoning noise by harshly cracking a pointer stick against the chalkboard.
"Do be respectful," he says, commanding absolute attention.
"Welcome to the Officers Academy. Your home for the next year." He curls both arms behind his back again. "As always, we of the Church of Seiros are quite happy to host a fine young crop of future leaders. And to those of you who are legacy students, not to worry. We will not be judging you by the sins of your forefathers."
Seteth's gaze connects directly with Felix, a raven-haired boy sitting at the far end of the second row of desks in the left column.
The boy scoffs, rolls his eyes and looks at the fireplace beside him. Clearly he wanted nothing to do with that conversation, and a few students chuckled at his reaction.
"Well we are overjoyed at the opportunity to study here, Seteth." Dimitri comes into the conversation, clearly intending to draw the heat off of Felix.
The tactic works. Seteth's attention is pulled back to the duo beside him.
"Yes. Good, I'm glad to hear it."
His serious expression breaks into a smile before turning back to the forcibly captivated crowd.
"On the subject of studying, I would like to introduce you to the man who will be indispensible for all in the Blue Lions house." He makes a sweeping gesture toward the mysterious man. "This is Byleth Eisner. He will be your primary professor this year, responsible for all manner of combat training, leadership study and interpersonal advice."
Once again, the buzz of idle conversation starts up all across the room. A few words are just loud enough to break out of the incomprehensible drone.
"Byleth? What a strange name."
"He's so young! How could he be our professor?"
"I hear he saved the lords of all three nations from bandits."
"Oh yeah? Well I hear that name goes by the moniker 'Ashen Demon' in some circles."
Seteth silences the room again by cracking his stick against the chalkboard.
"I shall leave you all to be acquainted to your professor. I… Unfortunately do not have nearly as much to tell of his backstory as I would have for Professors Manuela or Hanneman." The administrator sneers at Byleth when he says that, but only receives that empty stare in return.
"Just remember. After today's inaugural lesson, you will be meeting with members of the Black Eagles and Golden Deer houses in the courtyard outside of your classrooms," he says with a nod back to the students. "We would like to encourage bonding with those of nationalities you may not be so accustomed to. A wide array of experiences makes for a more well-rounded statesman, after all."
Without another word, Seteth makes his way out of the classroom.
It took a moment for him to get totally out of earshot, as evidenced by the sounds of a much more rancorous Golden Deer classroom nearby going silent.
"I do agree it would be appropriate to learn a bit more about you, Professor Eisner." Dimitri offers a slight smile with his remark. "Whatever you would care to tell."
Byleth closes his eyes and shakes his head.
"… Byleth is fine, or simply 'Professor' if you prefer. No need to refer to me like my father."
Dimitri mutters an apologetic 'of course' before slipping away from the front so he can sit in an empty seat at the front-right desk, just before the chalkboard.
There he was joined by his mountainous vassal Dedue Molinaro, as well as the petite form of one Annette Fantine Dominic — who seemed more than eager to start learning. Those two were about as mismatched as it came sitting beside one another in height, demeanor and skin tone.
In fact, Dedue seemed to be the only person there with a darker complexion that suggested his origins from the foreign land of Duscur.
Just across from those three at the front-left desk were the befreckled young Ashe Ubert and the focused Ingrid Brandl Galatea, whose long blonde hair was bright enough to match even the prince.
Behind them was Felix Hugo Fraldarius, still attempting to lean away from all human interaction despite the insistence of his fiery redheaded compatriot Sylvain Jose Gautier.
Though to be fair, Sylvain only seemed to be insisting Felix take a look at the cute girl who took an aisle seat beside them.
On the other side of that aisle, behind Annette, was one Mercedes von Martritz. Her radiant smile seemingly encouraged Byleth to be more open to this strange new situation, despite not knowing anything about her.
Then there were a dozen or so other students to account for… But frankly, something about them felt less than tertiary.
Byleth clears his throat and looks down at the floor to begin.
"I am a mercenary by trade. With that background I bring what I hope to be a wealth of knowledge on any sort of tactical situation you may wish to know about."
There's a long pause as he looks across the room, gauging the reactions of his students. They ranged from intrigued to confused.
"I would also consider myself to be fairly observant, as a result of that training. So if there are any of those 'interpersonal concerns' you wish to approach me about, I would be happy to try and address them."
His expression suggested being less than 'happy,' yet it was still the same as ever.
"Beyond that, I'm a quiet man. I would not expect too much when we are not in lectures. Understand?"
Various nods and quiet affirmations answer his question.
"Great." Byleth gives a deep bow before turning to walk behind the podium, where he snatches a wooden sword, lance and axe off the back wall. "Then I believe we shall begin by discussing the merits of different physical tools of war."
As he lays out the weapons on his podium, Dimitri subtly interrupts by clearing his throat.
"Before that, I think it would be wise to discuss the upcoming mock battle."
Byleth stares for a moment before agreeing.
"At the end of this month, we will be competing against the other houses in a rudimentary match. Four of you will be invited to join me on the battlefield. I will hear out volunteers, but my choice will not be dependent on enthusiasm alone. Potential prowess and team composition are my chief concerns."
The first to respond is Dedue, who rests his hands on the table to lift himself up. Now he truly towered over everyone else.
"If His Highness will be on the front lines, expect me to be there as well."
Felix scoffs from the other side of the room. Byleth turns his attention there.
"If you think you'll get any more traction out of a lapdog from Duscur than you will from me, you would be mistaken. I have the strength to cut down anyone on the battlefield… Just wait and see."
"Sheesh. Three minutes in and you're already at someone's throat," Sylvain muses with a laugh. "This is going to be a long year, Felix."
"I don't need your lip Sylvain." The boy spits back with venom in his voice.
While brushing some of the long, dirty blonde hair out of her face, Mercedes clears her throat.
"I do agree it's silly to be fighting. We were all brought together by the grace of the Goddess, so we should be friends. Right?" She is soft-spoken, with perhaps a twinge of naivety to her voice.
Yet her presence and sentiment alone are sweet enough to calm the aggressive beasts back into their respective corners.
Byleth offers her a slight nod of appreciation.
"As I said, the decision will be mine and mine alone."
That seemed to be the end of that, as soon after Byleth picks up one of the wooden weapons off his podium.
"Now. For those of you who have been living under a gilded rock your whole lives… This is a sword."