Dark Abyss
Chapter 6: Byleth and the Beast
"You should have allowed me to turn back the hands of time."
To say that Byleth had not been tempted would be a lie. However, there were many drawbacks that came with the use of such a power.
Failure, pain and injury were very effective teachers. How were his students to learn the threat of ambushes, if they never experienced one? How would his students learn not to charge in recklessly, if they never experienced the dangers that came with it?
How would his students learn not to let their guard down, if they never experienced anything to guard against?
As Byleth looked down at Bernadetta's motionless form, however, he conceded to Sothis that she had a point.
It was a fine line to walk.
The small girl breathed softly. Her face, usually baring a myriad emotions for the world to see, now remained perfectly still.
The sight pained him in a foreign way; one which he did not fully understand. Byleth had seen dozens of his fellow mercenaries cut down in the heat of battle, and while he always avenged them, he never lost any sleep over it.
Perhaps it was because Bernadetta was his student – his charge. She was not merely an ally, but someone who looked up to him for guidance and protection, and he had failed her. He had failed Caspar as well, but the boy's injuries were trivial in comparison.
"Do not be so hard on yourself. You saved their lives, and even rescued someone long thought lost."
An image of Monica's tear-stained cheeks entered his mind, and he recalled carrying her back the entire way to the monastery. While he could not deny Sothis' words, they provided only a modicum of comfort.
"Professor… You've stayed here for the entire night. You ought to rest, as well."
Manuela, for once, spoke without a hint of enticement in her tone. Her voice was compassionate, and the older woman approached to rest a hand atop his shoulder. They stood in silence, observing the young, purple-haired girl, resting peacefully in one of the infirmary's beds.
"She'll be fine. You have my word."
"Listen to the lewd one, Byleth. Fretting over the girl will not heal her wounds any faster."
Sothis' words rang true, and he was struck with yet another wave of shame and guilt. What kind of irresponsible professor headed out into battle with his charges, knowing next to nothing about healing magic?
He would have to do something about that forthwith. In teaching the students he had neglected his own studies, and paid dearly for it.
"Thank you, Professor Casagranda." he whispered, gently moving her arm aside and leaving the infirmary without a second glance.
Byleth strode decisively through the corridor, making his way to the library. Faces both familiar and unfamiliar greeted him along the narrow path, and he barely offered a nod in response. Each congratulation for the efforts of himself and his students stabbed painfully at his chest.
A young boy with curly, dark hair perked up upon noticing him.
"Professor! Lady Rhea wishes to speak-"
"Later." he interrupted, brushing past the boy and leaving him behind with a flabbergasted expression on his face.
He rounded a corner at the end of the hall, and entered the library. There were a few students inside, some seated by the desks, while others perused the tall bookshelves along the walls.
Byleth made for the section featuring books on magic, only to find a short, white-haired girl standing on her toes. She strained, lifting both of her arms and struggling to grasp the spine of a particular book.
He reached over her head and removed the book from the shelf, sneaking a peek at the title as he did so.
"Elder Magic – An Introduction to the Dark Arts." recited Byleth, raising an eyebrow when Lysithea yelped and turned to him looking both angry and jittery at the same time.
"P-Professor! Don't sneak up on me like that!" she exclaimed. "And I don't need help getting things down! I'm not a little child!"
He handed the book over to her, pretending not to take note of her outburst. A few of the other students had thrown curious glances their way, and if the rumors were true, the academy's youngest student would not appreciate it.
"Perhaps not, but there's no harm in saving a bit of time."
Lysithea went oddly stiff for a moment, before giving him a sincere nod. The girl was strange, figured Byleth, but then again, he might be strange in her eyes as well.
"Are you not going to question her on the book she intends to read? The title alone proves its dubious nature."
He would not. If it were harmful in any way, he doubted the church or Tomas would allow it to be kept around.
"That makes sense."
"You're right, Professor." said Lysithea. "Time is too precious to waste, especially when there is so much left to learn. Just because we don't have any classes this week doesn't mean we should be slacking off."
The girl then walked away, almost hurriedly so, and Byleth assumed she must be very keen on reading that book. He turned back to the shelf, intent on finding something that could teach him the fundamentals of faith magic.
He would learn it, no matter how many late nights it would take.
"You surprise me, Professor. I had thought you, of all people, would favor reason over faith."
Tomas approached his desk, which was now covered with papers and notes. Several open books were spread out across the table, all of them on faith magic, with Byleth waving his hand over them in an attempt to replicate the spells described inside.
"Tomas." greeted Byleth, dismissing a circle he had summoned, before spotting the girl standing next to him.
"And… Miss Ochs. I'm glad to see you on your feet. I hope the students have welcomed you back to the monastery with open arms."
The red-haired girl smiled and nodded enthusiastically, looking far happier than she had yesterday.
"They have, Professor By! Did you know that I used to be a member of the Black Eagles, too? Oh, and I heard that you're teaching us this year! What a coincidence, right?"
Monica paused, catching her breath.
"Anyway, Edel and Mister Tomas have been showing me around, and I feel much better already! I look forward to learning from you!"
"Professor By? Edel? Is she aspiring to find a pet name for each and every one of us?"
Byleth blinked.
He had not expected such a rapid change in the girl's personality. Perhaps that was her way to come to terms with her kidnapping, he figured. A way to cope with whatever horrific treatment she had endured while living with those bandits.
As such, he decided to refrain from commenting on her lack of formality. Truthfully, he did not care, but apparently it was something the church held in high regard.
"That's good." he said, giving her a brief smile. "And to answer your question, Tomas… I do favor reason over faith, at least in theory."
The librarian straightened slightly at the mention of his name, while Monica looked on curiously.
"Oh? Then why…?" he began, before trailing off. "Unless... It is not offensive spells you seek."
Byleth nodded, sorting the various papers in front of him into a neat stack.
"I must learn how to heal my allies. Unfortunately, faith magic seems mostly derived from the belief in some sort of deity. That… complicates matters."
"You don't believe in the goddess, Professor?" asked Monica; her eyes wide in surprise.
He carefully closed the old books on his desk, placing them beside his notes. Monica's question was one he had been asking himself often as of late, and he pondered how to best answer it.
Byleth did not wish to offend her in the event that she, like the vast majority of people in Fódlan, was a staunch worshipper of the goddess. It was far from impossible that faith in a higher power could have granted her the strength to persevere throughout her capture, and undermining that would be disrespectful.
Yet, in spite of that, it was not in his nature to lie.
"No." he said. "Or rather, I don't care much for the idea. If the goddess exists, why would she allow such terrible things as murder and…"
Byleth cut himself off before saying something he might come to regret. However, seeing that neither Tomas nor Monica had interrupted him yet, or even shown a hint of scorn, he continued.
"As I see it, there are only two possible explanations. The goddess is either dead, or never existed to begin with. Thus, faith in the goddess is a waste of time, especially when one's own resolve is more than enough to deal with worldly troubles."
When he was greeted with a deathly silence, Byleth feared he had gone too far. It was one thing to discuss the intricacies of politics and religion with his father, and another thing to do it publicly in Garreg Mach – the veritable lion's den of both said topics.
"I… That is… A most intriguing point of view, Professor. I would advise against sharing it any further, however."
Unless his eyes betrayed him, Byleth thought Tomas looked pleased. Surprised, yes – but pleased.
Monica, on the other hand, blinked confusedly, before giggling and pumping a fist into the air. She seemed to have drawn some sort of conclusion.
"I get it, Professor By! When someone's as strong as you, they don't need the goddess anymore!"
Her naivety was almost amusing in its own right, and he could not bring himself to correct her.
A chair suddenly fell to the floor; its back crashing loudly against the library's wooden floor. Byleth spotted a blur of blue – the only other person remaining in the library – rushing out into the hallway with a muffled sob.
It was Marianne, and he repressed a sigh.
Perhaps the goddess did exist, and today happened to be a day where she was particularly angry with him.
"You do seem to be suffering a stroke of bad luck lately."
"Oh, dear." said Tomas. "We ought to have been more quiet."
"Why, yes! I did see Marianne just a moment ago! She appeared in an awful hurry, racing into the courtyard with nary a thought to her belongings."
Claude adopted a thoughtful expression, resting his chin on his hand.
"Come to think of it, it looked like she was crying. Professor… You didn't break her heart, did you?"
He shook his head in exasperation. The leader of the Golden Deer House never ceased to find an opportunity to joke around.
"Did you happen to see which way she went, Mister Riegan?"
Claude pointed ahead, in the direction of the gazebos, and Byleth took off. It must have seemed strange for a professor of the academy to be sprinting across the grounds, but finding Marianne had become his top priority.
He spotted her sitting by one of the small, round tables; face buried in the palms of her hands. He recalled their conversation in the cathedral and surmised that his words, as well as Monica's, must have cut her deeply.
"Miss Edmund." tried Byleth, coming to a halt. The girl remained unresponsive, hunched over and resting her head against the table.
He took a seat opposite her, and waved over one of the maids nearby.
"Please, Miss. Some tea for us both, and a few sweets."
The maid nodded, throwing him a sympathetic glance, and walked off to fulfill his request.
"Professor…" Marianne whispered eventually, peering through her fingers. "Why are you… wasting your time with me?"
"Is there any reason why I shouldn't?"
The girl was troubled, that much was clear. In any case, she was speaking to him, which was a step in the right direction.
"B-Because I don't get along with anybody. I don't contribute much either… I'm not even in your class. You probably see me as a nuisance."
"That is not the case, Miss Edmund."
Marianne lifted her head, looking at him with swollen, red eyes.
"You only say that because you don't know the real me. I'm… I'm not…"
The maid returned, pushing a small trolley in front of her. She had brought a large plate filled with various cakes and sweets, along with a jar and a pair of teacups. Both Byleth and Marianne nodded their thanks as they were served, and stayed silent until the maid had left.
"Thank you, Professor. You didn't have to..." said the girl, taking a sip of the hot tea. "Anyway, I'm more trouble than I'm worth. You should keep your distance from me."
"Truly? The girl is as harmless as a dove."
Byleth said nothing, instead serving them each a slice of cake. He stared out into the distance, admiring the way the mountaintops glistened in the sunlight.
"Is there anything you wish to tell me, Miss Edmund?" he finally asked.
Marianne rubbed her eyes; nibbling timidly at the piece of cake on her fork. She seemed uncertain, as though she were struggling to say something. Her mouth opened and closed, without a single word leaving her lips.
"I… I must look so weak to you, whiling away each day in prayer. You said I didn't always have to turn to the goddess for advice…"
Her voice came out softly; barely even as a whisper.
"But who else would listen to a demon?"
Byleth placed his tableware calmly across his plate; gaining an ever-so-slight understanding into the troubled girl's mind.
They were more alike than he could have possibly imagined.
"Come with me, Miss Edmund."
"Again."
"Professor, I don't think…"
"Do it." commanded Byleth, and Marianne raised a trembling arm. The sword in her hand pointed downward lethargically, betraying her hesitation.
The training grounds were empty, something he found strange considering the academy housed obsessed individuals such as Felix and Caspar. According to Hanneman, the Fraldarius heir spent more time training than he did sleeping, eating and studying combined.
Perhaps he would have to speak with the boy. Overworking the body was never a good idea, and possibly even lethal in the long term.
Marianne sent another half-hearted swing his way, and Byleth idly batted her sword aside. He wondered if her hesitation stemmed from the fact that they were not using practice weapons, and decided to reassure her.
"Again." he repeated. "I'm perfectly capable of defending myself, Miss Edmund. Let go of your fear."
"That is easier said than done. I still do not fully understand what you are trying to accomplish... Has the poor girl not been through enough?"
A slightly sharper strike clashed against his blade, and Byleth nodded in approval.
"Much better. Forget the world around you and focus solely on the weapon in your hand."
They exchanged blows for a while, with Marianne slowly losing her apprehension and settling into a comfortable pace. She was not half bad with a sword, thought Byleth, parrying a blow that would otherwise have caused several days' worth of headache.
He did not go on the offensive, instead allowing the girl to slowly but surely let out her pent-up frustration.
"I see…"
Before either of them knew it, their impromptu spar had grown into something more akin to a dance of death. Loud, metallic clangs resounded throughout the grounds, with each strike carrying more force than the young girl's frame should have allowed for.
A particularly powerful blow had Byleth genuinely defending himself, and he caught the glimmer of a crest shining above them.
When he met Marianne's eyes, it was as though he were looking into a mirror image of himself. Her eyes were no longer sad and dejected, but instead completely blank. She appeared to be in a trance-like state, and pushed her blade against his with unwavering strength.
"What is this power? This should not be…"
As if in response to Sothis' shock, power surged through his own body. Much like it had during the battle in Zanado, Byleth found his own abilities magnified substantially.
He pushed back, applying just enough force to shove the distracted girl back a few steps, at which point she regained her sense of awareness. Her eyes shifted back and forth between himself and her sword, before she let it drop to the ground with a clatter.
"P-Professor! Oh… Oh no… I…"
Marianne backed away; a horrified expression on her face.
"I must say, that was quite remarkable."
"W-W-What?"
"The strength you displayed…" said Byleth. "I've never seen anything like it before. I understand why you would wish to keep it a secret."
"I-I think I should go now."
"I'm not judging you. That would be hypocritical of me."
"Tell her, already! I fear she might collapse of anxiety!"
By some miracle, the nature of his crest had yet to become public knowledge. He had no doubt that the archbishop knew, given her strange interest in him, but none of the students had broached the subject yet.
Marianne had frozen in place; her hand still reaching for the gate leading back to the courtyard.
"I possess a crest, too. One I'd rather keep hidden."
She turned, facing him with such a timid, uncertain look of hope that he nearly averted his gaze. It was a broken stare; that of someone clinging onto life by the barest of threads.
"You're no demon, Miss Edmund." he said; catching up to her and pushing the gates open.
Byleth realized he was late for a meeting with Lady Rhea, but Marianne's well-being seemed a magnitude more important at the moment.
"Professor…" she whispered, clasping her hands together tightly. The look in her eyes only served to assert his belief.
"Trust me. I would know if you were."