Part 1 — Blue Sea Moon

Archbishop Rhea was pleased with the Blue Lion's performance at the Battle for Zanado. Pleased enough to entrust the class with quelling a rebellion that had broken out during the Garland Moon alongside the Knights of Seiros and Thunder Catherine: An instructor at the Officers Academy known for her ability to wield Thunderbrand, one of the Heroes' Relics once used by the Ten Elites during the war against Nemesis.

Lord Lonato from Gaspard, a region in the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, was instigating the rebellion — unbeknownst to his adoptive son Ashe. Lonato became hostile toward the Church after they executed his birth son Christophe; believing he was involved with the assassination of Dimitri's father. Ashe was unable to save his adoptive father when the Knights of Seiros were assaulted in a heavily fogged Magdred Way.

Following Lonato's defeat, a larger plot to assassinate Rhea during the Goddess's Rite of Rebirth was discovered on his person. Rhea and Seteth entrusted Byleth and his students to help ensure the Monastery would be secure while the Blue Sea Moon's holy ritual is conducted at the end of the month.

"Come on Ashe, open up!"

Annette offers the gloomy boy a bubbly smile. The two were sitting at one of the metal mesh tables in a small hedge-enclosed plaza just outside of the Garreg Mach Entrance Hall. That plaza was situated right next to the Amiibo Gazebo — which was a fixture of the Monastery with a curious name originating from some old tradition that had since been forgotten, but stuck on account of how fun it was to say.

She was holding an ornate silver spoon with a dark red, translucent gelatinous cube sitting snugly on the small bowl. The vaguely edible-looking substance had a mesmerizing wiggle every time Annette swayed her hand side-to-side, trying to keep in-line with Ashe's mouth as he dismissively turned away.

"I'm okay Annette, really."

His usual optimistic tone was dulled into a banal indifference that suggested anything but. It left the small girl's smile sagging just to hear it, as much as she tried to keep up appearances.

"Please?" She pleads, blinking quickly to complete the puppy dog stare and bring attention to her large, teal blue eyes. "Mercie and I worked really hard on this! You have to try it."

Ashe has to intentionally keep his gaze elsewhere to avoid falling victim to her wily charms… But even then can still felt her eyes bore into his soul.

It doesn't take long for him to lament, look toward her and open his mouth.

She giggles and flashes her pearly whites before moving the spoon to feed him. Perceptive listeners could even hear her mutter 'here it comes' as though she were feeding a young child.

The grey-haired boy was not a young child. In fact, he and Annette had been the same age until her birthday during the Harpstring Moon.

But the juvenile goofiness of her delivery was not lost on him. Ashe holds back a laugh by snorting as he closes his eyes and closes his lips around the spoon. She pulls it away soon after; now clean of the gelatin that he was chewing over with tiny squelching sounds.

He takes a long time mulling the stuff over before swallowing, which leaves Annette looking particularly anxious as she leans her elbows on the table and plays with the ringlets of orange hair hanging past her ears.

"So?" She asks impatiently.

Ashe takes a deep breath through his nose and keeps his eyes shut. He lifts a finger into the air, as if preparing for a lecture.

A lecture that begins with him smacking his lips.

"I'll admit, the texture took me some time to get used to," he says with a low, drawn-out tone that suggests he still needed to get his thoughts together. "But the flavor was… Dare I say? Divine."

"Whoa, seriously?" Annette's eyes widen as she leans in, eager to hear more.

"Seriously!" Ashe finally opens his eyes so he can look at her with an excited grin. "Strawberry, but with a hint of something tart under the surface. Like apples or…"

Annette brings her hands up and circles them around each other, telling him to keep going.

"Or… Perhaps… Rhubarb?"

"That's it!" Annette squeals, and then claps her hands together. "Mercie told me you'd get it!"

Ashe's cheeks run red at the compliment, which causes his freckles to pop.

"Did she?"

"Yes! She said you're a great chef, and that you could figure it out in a heartbeat."

"Ah…" He sheepishly chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. "Well that's awfully sweet of her to say, but I'm not half as good a chef as someone like Dedue."

"Well, who is?"

The two share a laugh.

When it passes, he gestures to take the spoon, which she graciously hands over. She even pushes the small plate of gelatin squares closer to him, in spite of his insistence that she should have some too.

"Are you sure?" He asks before sucking up another piece.

"Positive." Annette folds her hands in her lap and gently sways her head. "We made it for you, Ashe. I, you know, figured you could probably use a pick-me-up with everything that's been going on."

Ashe's vigor to eat fades for a moment as he hesitates to bring another spoonful up to his mouth.

"Are you holding up okay?" She continues, leaning her head in to try and meet his downward gaze with a sympathetic smile. "I know Lonato meant a lot to you."

Again, Ashe keeps her waiting by mulling over the answer alongside another mouthful of gelatin.

Then he keeps her waiting longer by taking a deep breath once he swallows it.

"It's getting easier every day I suppose," he says with a breathy exhale. "And it helps that I have friends like you around to prop me up."

Annette's unrestrained, bubbly and sappy smile returns when she hears that.

"Aw… I'm really glad to hear that, Ashe!" She giggles and brings her arms up to playfully tent her fingers under her chin.

"We've really missed having your smile brighten up this place. So anything we can do to help cheer you up, just let me know okay?"

Ashe slowly nods and his eyes dart about as the gears turn in his head.

His smile curls a little more mischievously.

"Perhaps next time we should have Dedue make the treats?"

He was clearly teasing and could barely hold the laughter behind his shit-eating grin. Luckily Annette picked up on that, as she responds with an over-dramatic scoff before leaning over the table to shove his shoulder.

"Rude!"

They both break into a fit of laughter again, making for a cheery sight in the middle of a group of other students at different tables idly chatting or studying.

Dimitri smiles, looking over his two classmates from a distance while leaning against one of the maze-like walls outside of the Entrance Hall.

Everyone had been concerned for Ashe after the battle in the fog. There were still glimmers of his earnest personality when Ashe ran home to make sure his younger siblings were safe and put into the care of someone trustworthy. However, he became a recluse for at least the first full week they were back in Garreg Mach.

Annette was right: They had missed having the old Ashe around. More than any of the Blue Lions would have realized before he was gone.

So seeing his chipper return was a good feeling for Dimitri, the student leader.

It was also nice for Byleth, who showed up there for a completely different reason. He rests a hand on Dimitri's shoulder.

"Professor." Dimitri says when he looks to the serious face beside him.

"Can I speak to you, Dimitri?" Byleth asks, crossing his arms. "Privately."

The blond prince is quick to nod.

Byleth and Dimitri settled down on a bench overlooking the Monastery's small graveyard. The collection of gravestones was built onto an open area overlooking the great chasm between the main grounds and the church, right beside the entrance to the grand bridge connecting the two.

Faerghus' crown prince sat with a polite, straight posture befitting his station and kept his hands clasped over his lap. His professor, by contrast, leaned forward to look into the open chasm with his elbows resting on each of his slightly spread knees.

"I know this is a sore spot for you Dimitri, but I can't imagine anyone more knowledgeable on the subject than you would be."

Though his words were obviously sympathetic, Byleth's face stayed as stone cold as ever — even when he glanced toward his student out of the corner of his eye.

"Can you tell me more about the Tragedy of Duscur?"

Dimitri tenses up at the mere mention of the event. He takes a few shaky breaths in some attempt to center himself before continuing.

"Do you really wish to know?" His tone is more somber and quiet than Byleth had ever heard before.

But he confirms all the same.

"Lonato's revolution was sparked by his son's supposed involvement in the Tragedy. The longer I spend with you all, the more I've come to see how deep the scars it left truly are."

The professor turns his body to face Dimitri more directly.

"If my intuition is right, this won't be the last time we hear about its aftermath." He reaches out and rests a hand on Dimitri's, feeling it quiver. "I would greatly like to know more. If you're comfortable telling me."

Though Byleth's touch does help Dimitri relax a considerable amount, it doesn't clear the somber funk he had fallen into. The prince steels himself to talk by looking down at his boots, which let some hair fall to obscure his eyes from Byleth's prying gaze.

"Four years ago, my father was killed alongside a number of other noblemen. They were assassinated by a band of… Curs."

Dimitri snarls and spits out the last word with particular venom. He only continues after centering himself again.

"I was there. Spared for some reason I've yet to deduce. Many of my family and friends — including Felix's older brother Glenn — were all wiped away in an instant. They were spared from the torment of spending every waking moment wondering why, as I do, but… As you said, that has been no condolence for the living."

When the prince stops to ease his raspy breathing, Byleth begins to gently massage his hand and forearm.

It seems to help.

"The people of Duscur were blamed for the incident, and brutally subjugated by those who took my father's place while I continue to grieve and come of age. Even though I know Duscur as a whole is not to blame, my people's wounds have yet to scab over. They hunger to get revenge, and those insurgents have cursed their homeland to take on that burden." Dimitri finally looks up so he can meet Byleth's calm expression.

"Dedue is one of the few members of his people left alive because I saved him. You've seen what kind of man he is, so you must know that his people are not all the savage murderers we scapegoat them to be."

Byleth agrees with a distinct nod, and that brings a smile back to Dimitri's face.

"I figured you would."

There's a period of silence that follows as Dimitri squirms to find a more comfortable position on the bench. He looks out at the immense structure of the church cathedral before them.

"Thinking about the Tragedy of Duscur and all of the pain it has caused can sometimes leave me… Unable to control my feelings."

Byleth's eyebrow rises curiously at that, and he looks down to see Dimitri digging his right thumb into the soft meat of his palm underneath his left black glove.

"Felix has seen my unchecked self before. There's some truth to his bestial jeers." The prince looks back at Byleth. "I'd like to ask something of you, Professor."

"… Yes?"

"You've become a close companion these last few months. I trust your judgment completely, as both an instructor and a military commander. Should you command it, I will gladly draw my blade on any occasion."

Such blind faith seemed out of character for the thoughtful boy, but Byleth would be lying if he said the sentiment wasn't flattering.

"I simply ask that you make sure any mission we take is justifiable," Dimitri says before swallowing a lump in his throat. "I could not stand the thought leaving more orphans in our wake if we were not fighting for a just cause."

The two stare at each other for a moment that felt like an eternity, drinking in each other's beings through the vulnerable windows of their eyes.

Yet the pregnant pause does not end with a more somber punctuation.

Instead… Byleth cracks a smile.

In fact, he smiles widely and starts to laugh. It was a light, dry laugh, but Dimitri's wide-eyed expression suggested it may as well have been the most boisterous expressions he had ever seen.

"Professor?" He says with a stutter.

Once Byleth stops laughing, he shakes his head and looks up toward the sky.

"My father, Jeralt. He always used to say that even mercenaries should be somewhat discerning of the jobs they take. That even if sellswords inherently distance themselves from their work, they shouldn't let blind profiteering lead them to a place where they wouldn't be able to live with themselves."

Dimitri blinks a few times, still stunned by his professor's emotional 'outburst.'

"I see."

"Ever since we became inculcated with the church I've been trying to figure out whether all of his wisdom stems from the establishment's religious doctrine. Baked in from his years here before I was born."

The prince smirks and suppresses his own laughter.

"Well I'm guessing that your emotional explosion just now means I've helped you come to an answer on that front?" Byleth nods. "Glad I can help, then. I think it's an entirely human feeling to want some self-assurance in the work we do."

They silently settle on their shared view of the world. Groups of Pegasus Knights fly by, going against the warm summery breeze that was beginning to warm the Monastery grounds. Byleth had the extra benefit of seeing a green-haired comet fly alongside them: Sothis, eager to watch the gallant knights on patrol.

The moment could have lasted for hours with both Byleth and Dimitri enjoying their comfortable silence.

"… Professor?"

Yet it seemed Dimitri was not quite done.

"Mmm?" Byleth responds while looking over in his peripherals.

"You never speak with much reverence for the Church of Seiros," he begins. "If anything, you always seem to traipse around with suspicions arisen. Even if you think no one is watching."

It takes the professor a second to sort through what words he wanted to share.

"I'm grateful for the opportunity Archbishop Rhea has provided. But I'm a mercenary at heart, always looking for signs that it's time to find new work."

"Of course," Dimitri nods.

"Something about the Lonato incident does not feel right. I can't quite parse what the Church's motivations would be for silencing him without a second thought."

"I agree."

Byleth looks to Dimitri with some surprise at how quickly he came around.

"There is something bizarre about the whole thing. Even if the judgment imparted on Christophe four years ago was unjust, Lord Lonato does not seem like the type to be involved in a counter-assassination conspiracy plot."

Byleth nods.

"Perhaps we should do some investigation of our own before the Goddess' Rite of Rebirth?" Dimitri says. "See if there are any vulnerable places in the Monastery that may draw a villain's attention while everyone is distracted by religious frivolities."

With another slight chuckle, the professor runs a hand through his murky green hair.

"It seems our mission for the week just took a bit of a detour, Dimitri."