Chapter 1:
Prologue
28, Lone Moon, 1180
Remire Village
Freya hesitantly opened her eyes. The room around her was covered in the shadows of night with only the small glow of the moon to reveal the furnishings. She cautiously sat up to observe her surroundings, wondering what had caused her to awaken at this unholy hour.
"I am mortal." a gentle voice mumbled behind her.
Her shoulders relaxed and she turned to face her sleeping sister. Another mumble rumbled from her throat.
"Byleth."
Freya covered her mouth so as not to laugh. Her sister was hardly the talkative type when she was awake, to hear her talking in her sleep was rather funny to her. She watched quietly as the woman continued to stumble out words to a conversation she could not hear. The comfort of the bed started to call to her, with a kiss on her older sister's head she snuggled back into the blanket and fell back to sleep.
Not ten minutes later, another noise brought Freya back into the waking world. The telltale sounds of armor marching in through the door alerted her to her father's return. From her side, she could feel Byleth rising out of the bed so with a resigned sigh she opened her eyes.
Her father was a big man, towering in both presence and form. His body was almost carved from the battles he had won over the years, his face carrying the scars of his closest calls. Freya had inherited his pale brown hair and eyes, a stark contrast to her sister's blue hues.
"Is your patrol over?" Byleth's voice spoke softly overhead.
Jeralt gave a small smile to his eldest before removing his sword from his side and placing it on a nearby table.
"Yes, nothing to report. It's a peaceful village that doesn't seem to attract much notice other than being a half day travel outside the monastery." His smile tightened.
"I saw her again."
"You mean you had the same dream again."
"Yes."
"Same young girl with bright green hair?" Jeralt questioned.
Byleth nodded.
"Is that who you were talking to?" Freya spoke up from underneath the blankets.
"Was she talking in her sleep?" Jeralt looked to his youngest.
She sat up in the bed and turned to give Byleth a mischievous grin.
"You said the silliest thing 'I am mortal'. What kind of conversations do you have in your head?" Byleth's eyes widened a fraction before she shrugged.
Freya rolled her eyes affectionately.
Jeralt moved forward to say something when a knock was heard on the door.
"Sir, there has been a report of bandits nearby. Some children have come by asking for aid."
Jeralt and Byleth were up in a flash, grabbing their weapons with practiced ease before heading to the door. Jeralt was still dressed in his armor from patrol and Byleth had slept in her clothes to prepare for the second patrol shift. Freya also grabbed her sword, but she looked much less ready for battle in her nightgown than the rest of her family. Her father looked back and held up his hand.
"You stay in the village and take care of any stragglers that get past our line. Make sure the townsfolk all stay safe and in their homes."
Freya's shoulders slumped. Obviously no one was going to get past the Blade Breaker and the Ashen Demon, but she knew better than to question her father's orders. She nodded and went into a bag to find her day clothes while Jeralt and Byleth left with the mercenary at the door.
Dressed in her modest attire, hair tied up, and with sword in hand, Freya left the house and moved towards the center of town. Each step was quieter than the last, her eyes scanning between buildings for any threats to the kind people that had let them stay in their village. In the distance towards the forest edge she could hear the echoes of fighting. A part of her longed to run in and join, but the other part of her gripped her sword unsteadily.
She raised the blade in front of her, pointing it at a well as if it was hiding her foes. She took a deep breath and moved forward, counting the steps her father taught her in her head.
Step, Lunge, Step, Block, Step, Cut, Step, Lunge, Step, Block, Step, Cut-
Freya tripped as the weight of the swinging sword set her off balance, landing against the rough exterior of the well. She cursed to herself as she quickly got off the ground, glad no one was there to see that embarrassing display. A small sharp throbbing alerted her to the fact she had cut her hand in the fall. She blew the loose hair strands out of her face before setting off back to their temporary house, hoping she would get there in time to fix up her hand before her family returned.
Unfortunately, both Jeralt and Byleth were waiting outside the house when she got back.
"Done already? Must not have been that serious of a bandit raid." Freya smiled, hiding her hand behind her back.
Byleth's blue eyes tightened. She marched up and grabbed Freya's arm, pulling her slightly bloody hand out. Her eyes moved from the wound to Freya's glowing red face, changing from an accusatory glance to one of concern.
"I just thought I should get some practice in, since there was nothing for me to do." Freya winced at the unintentional bite in her tone. She turned her head away, trying to look anywhere but at her sister's face.
A moment later and the far too familiar feeling of healing magic rushed up her arm through her hand. She glanced over at her hand to see that indeed the wound was no longer there.
"Thanks."
Byleth gave her a nod before Jeralt cleared his throat, gaining both their attentions.
"We're leaving now. We have to take some nobles back to Garreg Mach Monastery. Pack your things and we'll leave."
Both girls nodded and moved inside to gather their meager belongings. Once they were all set, the group walked toward the town entrance and the main road.
At the entrance to the forest road were three people Freya's age dressed in fine black and gold uniforms offset by capes of three colors; red, blue, and yellow. Each carried themselves with an air of importance and confidence, something that immediately informed Freya these were the nobles that her father had spoken of.
The boy in blue had a lance in one hand, his stature almost just as tall. His blue eyes were stunning behind the fringe of his cleanly cut blonde hair. The boy in yellow was casually holding a bow at his waist. His skin was tan and his eyes were green, an odd combination this far inland. The most striking individual, however, was the third individual, a girl in red. Her hair was as white as snow, giving off a silvery shine in the moonlight. Her eyes were a pale violet, a color Freya had never seen before. She carried a weighty axe, but she seemed to wield it with as much ease as the rest of her company.
Upon noticing the families' arrival, the three nobles immediately set their attention to Byleth. Each gaze held intent and a slight fire for competition. Freya looked back at her sister, but Byleth's face was a stoic as it had always been. There was a slight lost look to her gaze though, one that told her Byleth was deeply thinking about something. She made a note to herself to ask Byleth what she had done to make the nobles so interested in her.
Her father also seemed to have a fan in the form of a middle aged man in white shining armor. He talked to Jeralt as if he was an old friend. Her father seemed far less comfortable with the man. However, he walked beside him with a sense of resignation, clearly knowing that his incessant chatter was inevitable.
The march to the monastery was long, but not unpleasant. Freya learned that the three nobles were Dimitri, Claude, and Edelgard. They were students in the Officers Academy, a school for the children of Fodlan's most influential people. It all sounded very pretentious to Freya, but she kept that opinion to herself, instead opting to listen to the two boys discuss the school and their territories to Byleth. To her credit, despite her obvious discomfort, her quiet sister was patiently nodding between them.
If they thought they could convince her sister to leave their family of mercenaries then they were as stupid as they were rich.
Edelgard kept quiet for almost all of the trek, speaking only when asked a direct question. She seemed deep in thought, never entirely present with the rest of the group. It reminded Freya of Byleth in some ways.
The light of morning slowly broke through the trees surrounding the road, the only testament to how long they had been walking this trail. The forest started to thin up ahead, the path leading up a hill. Freya couldn't help herself. She ran up to Byleth and pulled her away from her new fans, dragging her up the rest of the path.
As they stood atop the hill they could see the full breadth of Garreg Mach. It was unlike anything Freya had ever seen, a castle built into and on top of a small mountain. It was surrounded on all sides by layers of walls, towering over small settlements and roads winding up towards the top. Freya gasped in wonder as she beheld the beautiful cathedral overlooking the entire complex with stained glass windows depicting angelic figures.
Byleth's hand tightened in hers, a sure sign her sister felt the same awe at the sight in front of them. A gentle breeze brushing harmlessly passed caught their hair and clothes, almost pulling them forward. A small laugh found its way out of Freya's lips.
"Wow. So this is what it means to be rich, huh Sis?" Byleth quietly nodded beside her.
"Freya, Byleth, we're moving." Their father called as he passed, leading the horse carrying their belongings.
Byleth tugged on Freya's hand, giving her a glance before pulling her away from the view.
Their hands stayed together for the rest of the trip.
The front of the monastery was more grand up close than the previous view had suggested. What had seemed to be plain walls towering over the mountain side were actually heavily detailed with murals and carvings depicting some sort of story Freya didn't know. The group walked through the last of the gates to the top most compound, surrounded by at least 30 more guards that had joined as they climbed.
They walked through the marketplace, trying not to trample down any stalls set up along the side of the road. Jeralt walked alongside his daughters, watching to make sure they didn't get lost among the crowd of merchants and guards. He glanced up and froze. Freya and Byleth both paused and followed his gaze. On a balcony high above them, a radiant woman dressed in white stared. Her hair was the gentlest shade of seafoam green, her skin pale as snow. Atop her head was a crown of gold adorned with lilies. Freya couldn't see what the woman was looking at, but she was sure that this was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.
Jeralt grunted. He started their march into a great hall, forcing both girls to pull their eyes from the woman above.
A quick thank you was given from the three noble students, who quickly moved within the crowds and disappeared from view. This left Freya, Jeralt, and Byleth with some of the soldiers they had been traveling with since entering the gate.
"I'll inform Lady Rhea that you're here, Captain. If you and your children would wait here, please." The talkative friend of Jeralt, Alois, gave a quick bow before heading up the nearby stairs.
Jeralt looked perfectly calm to any outside observer, but both Byleth and Freya could see the tiny cracks in his facade. He was worried about something, but before either could ask him Alois returned.
"She wants to see you now. She's so happy to hear you've returned to us!" Alois continued chatting to Jeralt as he led them up the stairs.
Both Byleth and Freya shared a look of confusion before following.
Alois led them to a beautifully decorated room Freya would describe as a throne room. At the end was the beautiful woman they had seen on the balcony. She was just as lovely in person, but she seemed untouchable, standing far from anyone.
"Welcome back, Jeralt." She spoke, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
"Lady Rhea." He bowed his head and motioned for both his children to do the same.
Byleth bowed, placing a hand on Freya's head to make her bow as well. She glared at her sister until a new man made his entrance. He was an older man, maybe the same age as her father, but where Jeralt's hair had started the process of greying this man kept his vibrantly green color. His outfit was also odd, a scholarly outfit that had clearly been altered for more freedom in movement. He even had a cape.
A cape.
Freya's mouth had apparently been gaping because before the man had settled next to Lady Rhea, Byleth had moved her hand to close it.
"I'm sorry for my late arrival. I am Seteth, advisor to the Archbishop." He did a small bow before turning to lady Rhea.
"It must have been the fate of the Goddess that brought you back." She smiled glancing at Byleth for a moment before returning to Jeralt.
"I'm sorry for my silence. A lot has happened since I left." He motioned to the two girls standing beside him.
"Yes, I see you've been blessed with the gift of fatherhood."
"Indeed. Long after I left here. I would love to introduce you to their mother, but unfortunately we lost her to illness some time ago." Freya glanced at her father, confused.
Byleth and Freya didn't share a mother. Her mother had died of illness a year after she was born, but it had always been known that Byleth's mother was another woman who had died before Jeralt knew her mother. They were a whole 5 years apart in age. Why was he lying to this woman?
His gaze stayed glued on Rhea's face, unwilling to flinch or give away any thoughts. Something was wrong; Freya knew it.
"And what is your name, child?" Rhea smiled at Byleth, her eyes almost shimmering in glee.
"Byleth."
"What a beautiful name. I heard about your exploits from Alois." She stared at Byleth, seemingly in no rush to look away.
"Freya." Freya interrupted, uncomfortable with the woman's lock on Byleth. Rhea's eyes moved to the other girl, losing the warmth they held previously, a false warmth taking its place.
"How nice."
The Archbishop returned her gaze to Jeralt, her movements graceful.
"I thank you for saving our students. You must know what I wish to ask?"
Jeralt groaned. "You wish for me to rejoin the knights of Seiros. I won't say no but…"
Her face fell for a brief second before she regained her unphased composier. "I thought Alois would have already asked you. We would truly benefit from your expertise. Please consider it, Jeralt."
"There's no way I can really say no, can I?"
Freya grabbed Byleth's hand and squeezed, her mind racing. There was no way her father had just agreed to stay here; no way he had just removed them from their mercenary life for a monastery job. He had to be joking, or buying his time so they could run. He couldn't have just doomed them to a life with untrustworthy women, loud and obnoxious guards, and noble brats, right?
Right?
"Thank you, Jeralt. And I have something in mind for both your daughters as well. I'll send someone to speak on the matter later. For now, your former lodgings are yours for the night. We'll get your children their own lodgings tomorrow."
Rhea and Seteth bowed before leaving out the grand doors. The minute they were out of earshot Freya turned to her father.
"What are you thinking? We can't stay here!" She seethed, not knowing if what she was feeling was panic or anger.
Jeralt took the accusation in stride, kneeling in front of his youngest.
"You don't understand now, but this is more complicated than just deciding where I work. This is where you both are going to be safest in the long run."
He held a hand up to her face, cradling her cheek and wiping away a tear. She hadn't even realized she had started crying.
"Don't cry, kid. It's not gonna be that bad. I promise if you hate it that much after a month or two we'll leave, ok?"
Freya hated how comforted she was by that. She should be stronger than that, strong enough to follow her father's lead without question, like Byleth. She nodded and hurriedly wiped away her remaining tears, taking a deep breath before stepping out of her father's embrace.
"No. I'll be fine. If you think this is best then I'll stay." Jeralt gave a proud smile before ruffling her hair.
"That's the spirit. Now I'm guessing you have some questions I need to answer. Let me take you to our room for the night and I'll tell you the story on the way."
The family left the room and headed downstairs to the knight's barracks. Along the way Jeralt explained his association with the church, how he had worked here years ago before leaving to travel. He told them about the Church of Seiros, how it was the predominant religion of Fodlan and how the central church was located at Garreg Mach. It all was a lot to take in for both of his children, but he had faith they would adapt quickly.
The next day Jeralt awoke, Captain of the most talented group of fighters in all of Fodlan, the Knights of Seiros.
Byleth awoke, newest and youngest professor in Garreg Mach's halls.
And Freya awoke, student of the Officer's Academy.