Chapter Two: Mother and Child
The group arrived at Garreg Mach as the sun was beginning its descent. Byleth felt a sense of ease settle over him upon passing the outer gates of Fodlan's religious capital. The square was still busy with the clamor of merchants selling their wares, and Byleth almost ran headlong into an old man peddling a large barrow of cabbages. Past the marketplace, he could make out a large lake and waterfall lined with fishermen, as well as a stable and riding complex. Directly ahead, the group approached a large stone building atop a flight of steps, its large double wooden doors manned by a stoic-looking gatekeeper. The exterior walls were adorned with distinctive banners, probably representing several of the most influential noble houses. Byleth guessed that this was the Officer's Academy.
Edelgard turned to address the group. "My friends, it has been a pleasure getting to know you, but here is where we part. Your assistance has been most appreciated. I will be sure to inform Seteth, the administrator of the Academy, of your deeds. I insist that you speak to him when you have a chance, and he will ensure that you are also well rewarded. Until then, may we meet again."
She turned and began heading up the steps as the other kids also gave their thanks, Dimitri giving Byleth a firm shake of his hand and Claude giving him a friendly pat on the back. "See ya later, Teach!" He gave another wink and headed off inside the Academy with Dimitri and Edelgard.
Jeralt let out a hearty sigh. "Well son, I'd say that was enough training for one day." With that, he strode off along the market-stalls, stopping to examine the wine merchant's wares.
Before he could decide which flavor he fancied, an eager voice called out from the direction of the stables. "Sir Jeralt!" Startled, Byleth looked and caught sight of a girl about his height, wearing a simple leather outfit and short hair the color of a brilliant autumn, beaming at his father.
"Well, Leonie! As lively as ever! You've grown up well since my last visit." Jeralt's gravelly voice seemed genuinely avuncular.
"I have, and stronger too! I learned to use a bow and sew my own clothes, and pretty soon I'm going to lead my own mission. Just you watch, Captain Jeralt, I'm gonna be the best mercenary in this part of Fodlan… well, not as good as you, of course!"
Jeralt laughed heartily. "Oh, you don't have to call me Captain, just Jeralt is fine. And you're going to be stronger than me one day, that's how my teaching works! Oh, that reminds me. You haven't yet met my son, Byleth."
Leonie turned on Byleth like a hawk. She looked at least a couple of years younger than him, and still lacking in certain womanly attributes, but something about her fiery expression made Byleth feel like he was a younger brother about to get scolded. She walked up to him confidently and with a proud voice declared, "I'm Leonie Pinelli, Sir Jeralt's best apprentice. I guess that makes us rivals."
She said the last part so matter-of-factly that Byleth just nodded as though she were commenting on the nice weather. She turned again to his father and said, "Sir Jeralt, will you judge our sparring match? Oh, and you have to at least come say hi to the other Monks. Catherine's grown pretty strong, even though I'm about to catch up to her, too!"
She eagerly took a hold of Jeralt's arm and tugged at him to follow. Jeralt looked rather apologetically over at Byleth and, with a smirk, said, "Well son, what do you say we pay these noble brats a visit?" With that, he let himself be led up the steps by Leonie, and together, the three of them entered the halls of the Academy.
...
The entrance chamber was spacious and, like the exterior, decorated with numerous banners. Three were particularly prominent, Byleth noticed. One of them depicted a double-headed eagle on a red banner, another was blue and pictured a proud knight, and a third one was gold embroidered with various icons including a large crescent moon. Further ahead, past another set of doors revealed a banquet hall lined with students casually eating and chatting with one another. Most of them were too absorbed by their activities to pay the group much notice, though several did turn to look curiously at them. Byleth couldn't help but feel as though they were a rather strange sight among this crowd of ostentatiously dressed nobles. The group made their way to the far end of the dining hall to another set of double doors that led to an outdoor courtyard with a magnificent sight.
In the afternoon light, the monastery stood majestically at the other end of a tall bridge connecting it to the rest of the compound over a deep canyon. Its high towers and stone archways stood out in high contrast with the surrounding landscape, and on the nearest facade could be seen a beautiful stained glass window depicting what looked like a dragon of sorts, though Byleth imagined it also looked somewhat like a young girl. The path to the central cathedral appeared heavily guarded, its gates manned by stern monks garbed in the traditional white robes of the order, while soaring high overhead, Byleth saw a contingent of pegasus riders surveying the grounds below. Jeralt had mentioned stories of his encounters with pegasus knights, saying that their speed and agility were a match even for a dragon, but this was the first time Byleth had ever seen one.
As Leonie led them towards the knight's quarters, a jovial feminine voice called out from behind them. "Captain!" This time, it belonged to a woman who was a head taller than Byleth, wearing her monk's attire rather casually along with a gleaming smile. "Well Sothis be praised, what a delight it is to see you again, old man."
Once again, Jeralt turned to face the new arrival with a recognizing expression. "Ah, Catherine! Leonie here was just about to challenge my son to sparring. Perhaps we could make it two on two?"
The woman grinned. "Another time, Captain! Though I know I'm gonna be tempted to pull out Thunderbrand just to stand a chance against you. Actually, Lady Rhea wanted me to send word. It's apparently something important." She glanced at Byleth.
A slightly dark and worried expression settled across Jeralt's face. "I see. Hmm yes, I think a little chat with Rhea could be of interest to us as well. Sorry Leonie, I'll let Byleth spar with you first thing tomorrow."
Byleth took all of this in with about as much comprehension as the Airbending discussion. His father was familiar with the Archbishop and the Monks? The woman who had addressed Jeralt so casually seemed like she had the strength to take on an entire company of bandits with her bare fists.
Escorted by Catherine, Byleth and Jeralt quickly made their way through the central church to the Archbishop Rhea's audience chamber. The room was every bit as magnificent as the main chamber below, decked by stained glass windows and columns of white marble. The Archbishop Rhea stood with a welcoming expression. She was a beacon of tranquility and compassion; standing in her presence, Byleth immediately felt a sense of calm and assurance wash over him. She looked surprisingly young, despite bearing the all-encompassing motherly acceptance that was only ever seen on those in more mature stages of life.
To her right stood a tall and imposing man, whose stern expression regarded Byleth and his father with scrutinizing perspicuity. Like Rhea, his age seemed to be more than his youthful appearance suggested. His hair was also viridian colored.
"Sir Jeralt, I hope your visit to our Monastery has been a pleasant one. And I thank you for accepting my request to meet on such short notice." Her voice was like a cool breeze on a summer day, carrying with it the music of birds. "I'm especially pleased that you have brought Byleth to see me."
Byleth looked up, startled that the Archbishop knew his name. She was regarding him with a mixture of motherly warmth and… was it hope? Byleth was never particularly good at deciphering emotions.
"Welcome, my child," and she said it as though he really were her child, and not just one of the goddess's many descendants. Turning again to Jeralt, she said, "Rest assured, I've made arrangements for you and Byleth to spend the night comfortably at our Monastery."
Jeralt gave a slightly embarrassed cough. "Archbishop. Your hospitality's appreciated, though I wasn't expecting to need it. We were concerned about the safety of a few students we encountered."
The man on Lady Rhea's right spoke. "Edelgard has informed me of your deeds. They are most appreciated, and I will see to it that you are compensated fairly." He paused briefly before continuing. "I must admit, she mentioned something else that made me curious." He turned to directly face Byleth. "Were you aware of how you managed to call the power of Air to your aid?"
Byleth felt a nervous weight settle over him as the three adults turned to face him. "No," he answered completely truthfully, "I'd never been aware of any such technique before."
"I see," replied Seteth evenly. "By way of disclosure, the power you have manifested during your skirmish is from a branch of spiritual arts typically seen only in those who bear Crests, though it is not unheard of for the power to manifest in those without Crests when given proper training. The reason your...unintentional airbending has made me curious is twofold. First is that you were able to execute a fairly difficult technique to great effect with what appears to be no prior training. Second is that the power of Air in particular is a rare affinity, seen presently only in Archbishop Rhea and other ranking members of the Church of Seiros."
Byleth silently absorbed this information with increasing unease.
Rhea continued the thought. "Air is the element most closely associated with the Goddess's divine vision, as such we take special care to welcome those who possess this gift to our Order. Byleth, my child, it is my hope that you will consider joining our Academy as a professor."
Byleth's jaw dropped a couple of inches before he managed to compose himself. Looking around, he could see that Jeralt was just as surprised as he was, while Seteth appeared merely skeptical.
"Teach?!" He stammered.
"Those little rich brats?!" Jeralt blurted.
"Er, do understand," intoned Seteth, "We are inviting you to join us as an interim professor, during which time we intend to test your capabilities before considering you a full time professor, including leading the students in combat. If you were to accept our offer, you would be welcome to stay at our Monastery and be fairly compensated for your services on a monthly basis. Your acceptance of this offer is entirely voluntary on your part, of course."
Byleth closed his eyes to silently process what he had just heard. They wanted him to teach? Him?! He had never even been inside a proper academy before now, mostly learning his letters from Jeralt and a couple of other more educated members of their mercenary group. Everything he knew up until now seemed like it was mostly embodied in his sword technique and his battle instincts, neither of which he knew how to explain even if he was asked to.
"I'm...sorry, I just can't think of any particular skills I have that would be useful to teach to the students in this Academy."
"I was told," Seteth said, "That you demonstrated remarkable instincts during your fight with the bandits, and that your skills with the sword extended also to your instincts regarding the battle at large. Both of these will prove to be useful skills for the students as they prepare to fight and to serve as officers one day. Moreover, a significant part of the students' education is designed around practical experience, for which they will engage in mock battles with one another as well as real battles when accompanying the Monks of Seiros on missions. It is our hope for you to lead your students in these battles, providing tactical and strategic guidance as needed."
Byleth finally understood what the man was saying. Since they spent most of their time within walls, most of these kids likely did not know what to expect in a real battle - experience which he had in abundance. And in a real battle, tactical direction was every bit as important as individual fighting prowess. Thankfully, tactics were something he and Jeralt had spent countless hours together on as they prepared for their more difficult missions. Still, he had his doubts.
He looked at Jeralt for some clue on what he should do, but the old knight simply looked back at him with a curious but encouraging expression on his face. Byleth understood what it meant. It was his choice. Whatever he decided, the burden would be his to bear. He again wondered about what had happened during the battle that morning, and wished he could have more time to process. He decided that this would be the wisest choice.
"I would like to have some time to consider this, if that is alright. Would you allow me to give my answer tomorrow?"
Rhea smiled. "Of course, my child. Preparations have been made for you to spend the night near the students in the Academy. You are more than welcome to take the time to get to know them better. Sir Jeralt, you are welcome to your old room on the second floor of the Monastery. Should Byleth choose to accept our offer, I would be very grateful if you would decide to re-enter our service as Captain of the Monks of Seiros."
Jeralt gave a weary but appreciative nod.
"Byleth, keep in mind also," Seteth remarked, "That you will also be asked to make another choice when you return, should you accept the professorship. It is that of which House you will lead. As Professor you are expected to instruct all students impartially in your areas of expertise, but as House leader you would be in charge of leading your students to victory. Please choose wisely. Oh, and Jeralt, please stay a while, the Archbishop would like to fully brief you on some matters concerning the state of affairs here at the Monastery."
With that, the meeting concluded for Byleth and he exited the chamber. Absorbed by the thoughts of all that had happened that day, Byleth felt immensely exhausted and returned directly to the room Rhea had prepared for him on the grounds of the Officer's Academy. Once he arrived, he immediately unequipped his sword and mercenary gear before collapsing on the feather bed and falling into a deep sleep.