Part 2 — Guardian Moon
As the Ethereal Moon gives way to the Guardian Moon, bringing with it the slow march towards temperate weather, hope for victory against the Adrestian Empire by the reunited Blue Lions begins to bloom. The teachers and administrators of the Officers Academy return at the behest of Gilbert, all but Shamir and Archbishop Rhea — the latter missing since the invasion five years prior.
Despite concerns about long-term security and the biting cynicism of Dimitri, Annette and Sylvain spearhead an effort to revitalize the old Monastery grounds. With a more permanent base, morale amongst the burgeoning army would be restored, they hoped. All the Church of Seiros' war funds begin to pour into this effort, leading to a steady stream of supplies, mercenaries, and freedom fighters coming in from nearby towns. Though everyone is aware of the looming shadow cast by Emperor Edelgard's army, some days begin to pass with an almost nostalgic, carefree air for most within Garreg Mach's walls.
Though he had no academic duties to attend to, Byleth still found himself waking up early most mornings. To satiate that itch, he took to working on plans for continued training that some of his former students had requested, as well as contingency strategies the army could use to defend Garreg Mach. He was actually quite interested to bring one new idea for a firebomb trap to Gilbert and Seteth during their next meeting.
That busywork kept Byleth occupied into the early afternoon some days, and today was no different. As he exits his dormitory, the same room he slept in five years prior — closest to the Sauna and Training Grounds, he finds a wealth of faces out and about working on the reconstruction project that left portions of the Monastery covered in scaffolding.
As he readjusts his cape-like jacket from the entryway to his room, a shadow passes overhead. Byleth looks up to find Ingrid's Pegasus fluttering along the edge of the adjacent roof. The blonde knight holds a bucket an arm's length away from the right side of her unarmored steed, letting dull, grey cement drip down the side and into the line of trees and grass below.
She catches a glimpse of Byleth from the corner of her vision and looks down to offer him a smile. He waves back.
"Up and at 'em, Professor?" She calls down, speaking over flapping wings.
"Flayn is working on revitalizing the Greenhouse." The Professor walks out from under the awning above the dorms and careens down the small wooden staircase to ground level. His gaze is locked on Ingrid the whole time. "She requested some assistance this afternoon."
"How fun," she giggles as she brushes back her bangs with her free hand. "Be sure to tell her I say 'hi.'"
"Of course." Byleth nods with his response.
Soon after, the shining white knight Alois calls to Ingrid from the top of some scaffolding near the door to the Training Grounds.
"Ah, afraid that's me," she says to Byleth while turning her Pegasus in mid-air. "I'll talk to you later, Professor!"
Byleth waves her off as she crosses the gap to bring Alois the supplies he needs to finish rebricking a missing chunk of the wall.
At that, the man with the mint-colored hair starts to make his way south towards the Greenhouse. This journey was second nature after months of repeating it in what felt like weeks, though the sights had changed quite a bit. Not only was the general architecture of the monastery dingy and worn down, with weeds breaking into every stretch of stone alongside overgrown patches of grass, but there was also nary a student to be found. Those youthful, eager faces fresh out of a course on magic with Professor Hanneman or racing to the now-woefully under-stocked Dining Hall had been replaced by war-weary soldiers and merchants. Some were still chipper, carrying boards under their arms or paint to some wayward end of the grounds. Others had clearly suffered the slings and arrows of the last five years and were desperate to see it through to the end. Byleth noted that particularly in the eyes of one man he passed missing his left arm.
As the former Professor makes it to the middle level of the monastery grounds, his legs — as if of their own accord — turn away from the Greenhouse up ahead to hone in on a particular dorm. By the time he shakes himself free of the mindless trance he was walking in, he was standing at the door to Bernadetta's old room with his fist raised, ready to knock.
Were he an emotional man, Byleth may have blushed at the thought of how pathetic he must have looked to anyone walking along the adjacent path, still clinging to ghosts that only he still felt were fresh.
"Old habits die hard," he mutters before rapping his knuckles against the door three times.
Byleth begins to make his way toward the Greenhouse again, but freezes at the sound of rusty hinges squeaking open behind him. Hairs stood up on the back of his neck.
He doesn't move, and it takes a good minute before anything else comes of it.
"Professor?"
The voice was slight and cautious, more than recognizable — even if it had lost that squeaky, adolescent fear.
He slowly backs up until he could see through the ajar portion of the door. A frowning purple-haired girl on the other end smiles and opens it wider so he can get a better look.
"Bernadetta?" Byleth remarks with the slightest tilt of his head, as if making sure he wasn't imagining things. The amount of times she opened up to anyone was easy to count on one hand.
Of everyone he had met so far, it seemed as though the timid archer had changed the least in terms of her overall reclusive demeanor. However, she was clearly doing everything in her power to try and convince the world (or herself) otherwise. Her messy bedhead was gone, replaced by a presentable half-bowl cut of perfectly straightened hair that stretched down more in the back. She wore accessories, namely a hairpin and earrings, while the purple-and-gold outfit she adorned showed off a fair bit more skin than the old school uniform she had bulked up by wearing a blue hoodie underneath.
"I-In the flesh." She stutters out, voice squeaking slightly. It wasn't totally gone. However, she quickly clears her throat and looks down to compose herself before trying to catch Byleth's eyes again.
"Hi."
"Hey," he responds with a slight smile as he crosses his arms and leans against the open end of the doorway to peek over her. Somehow, the abandoned room was less messy than he remembered it to be back when she was a full-time resident. "Glad to see you could make it."
She nods, rolling her head around a bit to keep her eyes off him until her giddy little smile subsides.
"Sylvain told me you all would be meeting here after that incident in the Holy Tomb." She crosses her arms over her chest, briefly shaken by the memory of Dimitri's rage. "He said I'd be welcome if things got too shady in Adrestia… So when we heard there was activity around here, it only made sense."
"We?" Byleth moves off the doorframe, and lets his arms fall back to his sides.
"Ah!" She gasps out, before nodding. "R-Right! Uh. Caspar and Lindhardt are also here. We came together. Arrived last night, didn't want to disturb anyone."
Byleth was happy to hear that, but it also made his heart sink the longer he mulled it over.
"Things are that bad in the Empire?"
Bernadetta nods and then stares at her feet.
"If you ask anyone, E-Edelgard has made everything great." She swallows back her nerves. "But they'll always check over their shoulder to make sure a guard heard them say it."
The Professor reaches out and clasps her shoulder, which causes the skittish girl to yelp and tense up. She quickly relaxes into it, though.
"Well you're safe here with us, I can assure you of that."
Byleth knew he was lying through his teeth, and Bernadetta did too. Still, she seemed happy to go along with it.
"While you're here, Professor…" She begins, trailing off to let him respond.
When he doesn't, she waits a little too long to pick up that his silence was an invitation to continue, and sounds more flustered.
"I-If you run into Sylvain, could you ask him to return that thing for me?"
Byleth raises an eyebrow and steps back, crossing his arms again.
"I might need a little more guidance than that Bernadetta, especially if this was from five years ago."
She groans for a long time before giving in, knowing Byleth would never. "He… Borrowed an old draft of a manuscript before the war broke out. If he kept it… Goddess, I can't begin to imagine the kind of cringe-inducing dribble I wrote when I was 17."
Only letting a single amused breath escape his nose, Byleth nods. "I'll be sure to ask him."
"Thank you," she mouths with a sugary smile.
As Byleth turns to go on his way, he keeps his gaze on the archer and raises a palm to the sky inquisitively.
"I quite like this more confident Bernadetta, I must say."
The girl spends a brief moment in reverie over that comment before her eyes shoot open in fear. She slams the door in his face, sending him stumbling back.
"I'm really not," she cries out through the door. "Don't think you can rely on me any more than you used to or anything!"
Chuckling, he heads off to the Greenhouse once more.
"Of course, I wouldn't dream of it."
From inside her room, Bernadetta sighs in relief as she slides down the door, plopping in front of it with a huff. Then, she hugs her legs to her chest, smiling more than she had in years.