Hey, everyone. Welcome to the next chapter of this rewrite. I promised a lot this chapter, and here's hoping that I deliver on it. I hope you all enjoy the chapter!
I do not own anything.
Silver Snow Revised
Chapter 9-The Valiant and the Vile Pt.1
From the first moment he opened his eyes, Byleth could tell that it was still dawn. Maybe just a little way past it; ultimately, it was still just a little early for him to be up. His students were probably still sleeping. Scratch that, some of them were definitely still sleeping. Looking out the window at the thin cracks of light, Byleth decided there was no shame in catching some extra sleep himself. As he rolled over onto his left side, he quickly realized that he'd probably gotten all the sleep he was going to get. Odds were it would be enough. That left him with only one thing to do.
His legs swung over the bed, feeling the warm wood beneath his feet. They were moving a second later, taking him over to the drawers where he fished out some clothes to put on. His armor and weapons would follow in a little bit, but for the moment he felt his trusty dagger would be sufficient. At least as far as material weaponry with.
As he finished getting dressed, he noted the continue slumber of his spiritual partner. If she were awake Byleth was sure she'd have a remark about his battle readiness. After yesterday, he'd sent a direct challenge to a professional knight. It wasn't the first time he'd done so, meaning he knew about the dangers that came with it. Sebastian and the Western Church might have had their sympathizers here in Garreg Mach. That or anyone who placed a bet on them and simply didn't want to take the chance of losing. Lastly, there were likely some who just felt like he was getting a little too haughty.
He'd caught the way many still looked at him, as a common mercenary. Byleth didn't exactly blame people for still looking at him in that way. The only way that would change would be if he proved himself, including if he…
Byleth let the thought tamper off as he pushed the door open and greeted the morning sun. It'd risen above the horizon, turning the dark sky a myriad of bright colors with daytime blue gradually overtaking them. The sight was nice, and coupled with the hum of the monastery awakening, it was a true dawn. A new day had begun, one that would see him and his students leaving the comfort of the Monastery. While not the first time, they were technically heading outside of Renpet's borders. In a sense, that made this up incoming mission carry a special weight to it.
"Speaking of going and leaving," he found himself musing as he spotted a streak of yellowish-orange in the morning sky. It made him think of his father. Byleth knew he wouldn't likely do something as sentiment as see him off, not for a mission like this. That said, there was still a possibility, particularly since the Black Eagles were going to be under his command.
"Frankly…I think you can do it. True, you're not the most social guy out there, but I've seen it with my own eyes. You've got the skill and the heart to lead. Even if it takes a while, I'm sure you'll get there."
A minute of dwelling on the memory lead him to deciding on his next course of action. He passed by the awakening monastery as seemingly just another resident. Admittedly, he found a small degree of comfort in that. At least people were getting used to him. Albeit he still caught some extended looks, particularly from the knights. He heard their whispers, their amusement at his challenging a senior knight, their praising his boldness, and finally the questioning of how long he'd last. He was certain that bets had already been placed on him.
If I get a chance to show off like father, I wonder if some of them will change their minds.
Expectedly, the knight's quarters were already active. Men and women were going in and out of the halls, several already dressed in armor. Others were getting ready. Though Byleth hardly spared any of them a second glance, several stared at him. Even with his relationship to his father, his presence was still akin to a deer trotting amongst wolves. Not that Byleth considered himself a deer though. He was just as much of a wolf as them, perhaps a little more so.
Byleth stopped short of the door, easily within hand's reach. He could have knocked or outright picked the door lock, something he was sure would get him a reprimand. Same thing with kicking the door down.
He simply listened. Even amongst the residual chatter of the hallway, he could hear everything going on behind the door. His lips briefly twitched into a smile as he heard snoring. Loud, familiar snoring that told him that his father had made it back home. And he'd had his fill of drinking for the night.
"From what I heard, he's quite the drinker, your father." Came another familiar voice.
Upon seeing Seteth, Byleth gave him a modest bow of respect. He returned the gesture, his face radiating no rage or disdain for him. His voice hadn't contained any for his father either. Examining his somewhat amused face, Byleth guessed that he was used to dealing with heavy drinkers.
"He is and can be. I'm hoping he wasn't too much trouble last night."
"No, he wasn't. Alois and your father's second, Ron, were with him. They in fact were the ones who guided him back to his room."
"Typical of him, and Alois I guess." He remarked with a dismissive shake of the head.
His response caused Seteth to arch an eyebrow. "Am I fair to assume this happens often?"
"Somewhat, but his drinking never gets in the way of his work." That…wasn't entirely accurate. His father's drinking did sometimes get in the way of their mercenary work, albeit not the fighting part. No, that was saved for the more…administrative aspects of running a mercenary band. That problem hadn't gone away now that his father was back with the Knights of Seiros, it was likely only going to get worse. "Did he wreck anything last night?"
"No, though I'll be on the lookout for that. It'd be…unbecoming of the Head Captain to be engaging in such acts, even while drunk." Seteth cautioned.
Actually, it was also a warning. He was being rather polite in telling him to keep his father under control. His gut told him that he had some complaints he'd taken to Rhea, and she'd…taken them under advisement. In other words, the complaints and concerns were now being taken to him. Byleth couldn't exactly blame him.
"I can assure you, my father is well aware of such things." Though he was willing to accept those complaints, Byleth knew now was the time to stand up for his father. "You may have seen him in one of his…unclothe moments, but I assure you, that isn't even close to all of him. He's every bit as capable and competent as Lady Rhea believes him to be. You'll find that every member of the Jeralt Mercenaries, myself included can and will vouch for him." Seteth's green eyes stared hard at him. He was a hard man, but Byleth had deduced that was because he was deducted to the people of Garreg Mach and the Church. Byleth actually respected him a little for that.
"I understand." Came his simply, yet content response. Still, his eyes never wavered from Byleth's. He sensed a slight change in them. Quietly deducing the man's focus had gone from his father to him, he readied himself. "Professor Eisner, I'm aware that you have a mission today, but in the time before you head out with your students, might I ask you for a private conversation?"
That's exactly what he was expecting. "Of course. Your office?"
"Yes, and thank you for making the time for me."
Like that, he found himself following the bearded man. He still got some looks from other knights, and even clerics. Seeing him following Seteth was no doubt stirring their curiosity. At least neither of them looked angry with one another or it seemed that Seteth was dragging him somewhere against his will. Frankly, Byleth knew that this was going to happen one day, preferable within a month or so of his stint as a teacher at the Officers Academy. Seteth was by all accounts the school's headmaster.
That aura was at its strongest as he sat down in his office. It was similar to Rhea's, rather close to it in space and furniture. He did a quick scan of the numerous bookshelves and noticed every shelf was filled to the brim. There wasn't enough time to make out the titles, but Byleth could tell from them that he was in the presence of an incredibly educated man. As befitting of a man who served as right hand to the archbishop, and the headmaster of the Officers Academy.
While Rhea was as open and inviting as a clear sky, Seteth was the imposing earth. Like a mountain he rose, barring any entry to what might lie further ahead. To pass it through wouldn't be easy. "There is a matter I'd like to discuss with you." He began. "I believe I've told you this before, but it is my duty to aid the archbishop in all her duties. Those duties include spiritual instruction, ceremonial oversight, donation management-all of the church's many administrative tasks. My oversight covers the priesthood, the Knights of Seiros, and the Officers Academy. Lady Rhea has entrusted a great deal to my discretion, and I am honored to have her confidence. Even when she must make decisions herself, she often seeks out my counsel in advance."
Except for with me. You weren't informed of it in the slightest. If he wasn't as composed as he was, Byleth would have let those words pass from his lips.
"And yet," Seteth continued, heedless of Byleth's thoughts. Regardless, he confirmed his hypothesis. His arms crossed and a look of benign discontent consumed his face. "Your appointment to a teaching position at the Officers Academy was a complete surprise to me."
That makes two of us. Again, if not for his self-restraint, he'd have said those very words. Rather than anything of the sort, he chose to remain silent until Seteth finished. He had a feeling what awaited at the end of this speech was an opportunity for him to validate himself. Seteth seemed like the type who'd at least give him that after voicing his concerns.
"You should be fully investigated, at a minimum, before being trusted with such a responsibility. But no such investigation has been conducted."
Which means you're going to conduct one yourself. Byleth summarized.
"I know you are skilled in war, and in matters of strategy, but beyond that I know next to nothing about you."
"Which is why you don't trust me." Finally, he voiced his inner thoughts. Not with malice or annoyance, just the same neutral calmness he approached almost everything in life with.
"That is indeed what it comes down to, if I'm being honest. Please understand I mean no offense."
"None taken. I can entirely understand your position. You don't know anything about me, and that's troubling given the position I'm in." Now was his time to talk, to plead his case. "Ask me anything and I'll answer. Hopefully my answers will alleviate your fears." He really did hope they would, otherwise he was sure his time as a teacher was going to be tumultuous.
"Very well then. You are the child of Jeralt Eisner, correct?"
"Yes. He's told me himself that he's my biological father." He'd gotten used to double confirming that since people seemed to have a hard time believing it. At least until they saw him in battle. Then it became clear to many that he carried the blood of the Blade Breaker in his veins.
"As the former Captain Commander of the Knights of Seiros, Jeralt is renowned throughout all of Fódlan. If you really are his child, no one would voice any complaints about you joining the knights. How long as it been since you became a mercenary?"
Joining…the Knights of Seiros. The thought gave him temporary pause. He hid it behind his usual stoicism though. Near immediately, his full focus went to answering Seteth's next question. Byleth had a feeling that his answer was going to shock the older man. "You could say since I was six years old. That was when I fought my first battle."
As he expected, Seteth's eyes temporarily widened at his answer. "Since you were…six years old?"
"My father tried to keep me off the battlefield, but I…found my way to it even then. It kept on happening until you could say I chose to jump right on in at the age of ten."
Seteth's enlarged eyes remained, albeit they did shrink back down to their normal size a second later. Now that the information was there, it was clearly going to be stuck in his head for the rest of the conversation. "I see, and how old are you now. It occurred to me I've never been informed of your age."
"I'm twenty." He answered. "Come the Horsebow Moon I'll be twenty-one."
"I see," The second he'd finished talking Seteth had done the math. In totality, he'd been a mercenary since he was six-years-old. Fourteen, soon to be fifteen, years of his life had been spent on battlefields. He was certainly right in acknowledging his skill in warfare-he'd spent most of his known life learning it, perfecting it. While that may have made him a fine warrior, it left some questions regarding his mental state.
Those questions were perfectly valid.
"Have you ever led troops into battle?" He asked next. There were few hints of his prior discomfort, but Byleth knew it was still there beneath the surface.
"Several times. I try to lead by my father's example, getting the job done as quickly and efficiently as possible. That includes as few casualties as possible on my side."
"And on the opposing side?"
It was a question that came up often given his reputation. "I will do what I must. Should the enemy surrender, then I'll gladly take it. I draw the line at unwarranted bloodshed, and sadism."
"I see. Thank you for your response." The bulk of it was he wanted to know what kind of leader he was, if he was capable of leading at all. "I feel I do not need to remind you that the students may be capable, but many of them are still young. Several of them only now learning how dangerous the world can be."
"Yes, I'm aware, and I try to keep that in mind. I know that there's a limit to how far I can push them. That said, Seteth, I need you to know that I will push them hard if I believe it'll benefit them."
"Yes, that I understand. That is part of your role as a teacher, one you seemed to be settling into fast. I heard of the…incident involving Bernadetta and how you handled it. Thank you for your consideration of your mental state."
Seteth didn't know it, but he helped further paint a picture of what kind of home Bernadetta came from. A home life that he felt he was going to be catching a glimpse of in just a few short hours. Byleth couldn't say he felt the excitement, though he didn't feel like calling it dread either.
Outside the room came the tolling of one of a bell, the first one of the morning. Anyone who was still sleeping was probably up by now. That potentially included Linhardt.
Taking note of it, Seteth spoke, "Thank you for answering my inquiry. I will admit that it has…somewhat helped put my mind at easy. Go, you have things to do as do I, Professor Eisner." He stood up and bowed his head. No sooner had he took a step toward the door did he catch the inhalation of breath. Turning his head back, he caught Seteth's eye just as he began to speak again. "Professor Eisner, whatever he reasons, the archbishop has placed great faith in you. Do not betray that trust. That is all."
After giving him a silent nod, Byleth walked out the door. He silently mulled over the words as he made his way back, but not to the dining hall or anywhere else. Instead, he retook an old path, finding it somewhat less crowded. It was a subconscious desire that led him back to the door to his father's room. It hadn't changed in the few minutes he'd been gone. He could still hear the snoring coming from just beyond the door. Hearing it was almost enough to bring a smile to his face. He might have smiled-it felt nice hearing that familiar sound amidst all the changes in his life.
"See you when I get back, father." He quietly murmured before walking away.
You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?
I had a feeling. When I told everyone what our new mission was, I could have sworn that Bernadetta had eaten the…concoction that Flyan had made for dinner some time ago.
The nice morning had given way to a beautiful day. Byleth would say that it was perfect for a mission. Many would say that it was perfect to be outdoors, enjoying the breath of the spring that had came after winter's cold chills. Dozens of people were out, particularly knights and priests. A handful of students lingered, though many were getting ready for the day's classes. For several of the Black Eagles it wasn't going to be like that. They had a mission that would be taking them south to their native homeland.
Ironically, the person who was born and raised of that corner of the Empire seemed perfectly happy with remaining hold up in her room.
"Bernie, Bernie, come on, it won't be that bad." Dorothea tried for the fourth time. "Listen, I'll be right there with you so it won't be so terribly boring. I'll even protect you from any thieves that may try to jump us. If not me, one of the others will, like the Professor."
"N-N-No thanks! W-W-Why waste time protecting me when you can spend your time s-s-stopping more bandits! T-That's one less bad guy in the world thanks to me not being there!" Byleth had to admit, from a certain point of view, Bernadetta's argument made sense. Of course, from another it sounded cowardly-which was a word that many would have used to describe the purple-haired girl.
He could already hear the word being thrown around as a crowd had gathered in front of the dorms. Byleth knew that Bernadetta knew that this crowd was here, and they were all talking about her. He had to disperse it, but that was only the first step in getting Bernadetta to come out.
"Honestly, I'd say that we should just leave her, but she's been specifically requested to come along." Edelgard voiced. Her frustration was beginning to show as well. "Dorothea, step aside, I will handle this!" It seemed she'd finally reached the end of her patience. Byleth watched with weary eyes as the white-haired girl marched toward the door. "Bernadetta, you have a duty to perform. You are a member of the Black Eagles, and this mission involves the reputation of our homeland! Surely you feel some love toward it, don't you! Enough to brave whatever dangers-"
"M-M-My homeland has you, Edelgard! The future Emperor of Adrestia! T-T-The strongest in our class! And Professor Eisner, who's got eyes in the back and side of his head!"
A chorus of confusion was birthed from her words. Byleth found himself the subject of pointed stares and murmurs, not that he reacted to any of them.
"So, you would shirk the responsibility onto others?" Edelgard pressed, believing that her disappointment might be enough to coax the archer out.
Oh, how wrong she was. "I suck, Edelgard."
"W-W-What?" The future emperor stuttered. It seemed such a plain, self-defeating retort wasn't what she'd been expecting. Somewhat surprising considering who she was dealing with. "Bernadetta, take my word for it, you do not suck! You are the most valued archer in the-"
"I saw you praising Petra the other day, who's way, way better than me. Not to mention Hubert's dark magic is stronger than my arrows."
"Well, you're not exactly wrong on either accounts." The slipup was accidental, but the damage had been done. Off to the side, Dorothea shook her head in disappointment, as did several others. "That's not the point though, Bernadetta. You have an opportunity to bring honor to yourself! To show your worth in the eyes of your father!"
"N-N-No thanks."
"Bernadetta!" Edelgard shouted. "As future emperor and your house leader, I demand you come out this instant! We need you!"
"No, you don't! I-I can't go back there! I just can't! Like I said, I'm better off in here, out of everyone's way!"
"She's not exactly wrong. It would be a hassle to deal with her…episodes while on the mission."
Byleth was not in any way surprised to hear Hubert's voice. He'd heard him coming from several yards away. Those around him? They nearly jumped out of their skin. That included Caspar, who just walked by alongside Ferdinand.
"H-H-Hubert! How the hell didn't we see you! We just got here same as you!" The blue-haired brawler shirked.
Chuckling, the mage gave him a dismissive shrug. "Unlike some people, I know a few things about subtly." His eyes moved to meet Byleth's, noting the lack of fear his words had incited. Or anything else really. "Professor, please, allow me to handle this."
"You think you can get her out?" He asked.
"With easy. I believe she's wasted enough of our time already. If I must, I will even ensure that she remains cooperative throughout the mission."
The way he worded it had Byleth worried, but he did agree that they were wasting time. By now, he'd have liked to be getting ready, or almost be entirely ready. Looking back at the door, he knew he could try to coax Bernadetta out himself, but he had a feeling that would take time. Not to mention if he tried to use his authority, he had a feeling it'd go about as well as it did for Edelgard. He locked eyes with his imperial pupil; she gave him a firm nod indicating she'd heard the conversation with her retainer, and agreed with him.
Just get her out already. Honestly, it would be easier to rip a snail from its shell than that girl from her room! Sothis sounded like her age.
Sighing, Byleth nodded. "Just get her out, Hubert."
The way he smiled made Byleth immediately regret his approval. "With pleasure."
He dropped into a shadow, a pool of darkness that looked utterly exposed in the morning sun. Several jumped back, including Dorothea who hadn't seen the move coming. She watched along with the rest as the Hubert-shadow moved straight toward Bernadetta's door, sliding underneath it.
"W-W-Wha…H-H-Hubert? How did you get in here?! W-W-Wait! S-S-Stop, d-d-don't come any closer! Please, I-I-I…s-stay back! Stay back! Aaaaaahh! Help me! Someone, heeeeelp!"
Outside, Byleth and the audience listened with varying expressions of unease and downright horror. Byleth wasn't horrified, but his deep frown was indicative that he realized his error. In retrospect, he should have known exactly what Hubert's methods would entail. Contrary to his pride as a stealth operative, the man was about as subtle as Caspar was in how he operated.
Maybe I should-He began to think.
No. The goddess in his head boomed. Her voice was deep and authoritative, so were her eyes, which never wavered from the door. She could hear the ensuing mayhem going on beyond it-things were being thrown and someone was being chased around. No need to ponder who that person was. I will not have you wasting my power on something so…tedious, especially when it accomplishes the current objective. Besides, if the girl cannot brave this, she will be ill-suited against enemies who ACTUALLY wish her harm.
Again, Byleth hated how he actually agreed with her. He had only three uses of Divine Pulse, and he knew he had to use them wisely. Did that exclude stopping one of his students from traumatizing another in an attempt to drag her out of her room? As he waited with his arms crossed with his usual stoic demeanor, the answer was apparently yes. It left him unable to do anything but sigh in discontent.
Suddenly, the noises came to an abrupt end. The doorknob twisted before the door itself was pushed open. Out stepped Hubert, looking none the worse for wear than when he entered. His face wore that same sinister smile. Behind him, Bernadetta finally stepped out, holding herself in fear. Her eyes were wide and her legs wobbled with every step she took, but step forward she did. While lacking any visible sign of her injury barring her roughed up clothes and messy hair (albeit not new for her), Bernadetta appeared uninjured. Mentally speaking? That was another matter entirely.
"There now, we may all assemble and continue our preparations for the mission, Professor." Hubert declared in a sickeningly happy voice.
"That we may, at long last." Edelgard seconded, not betting an eye at what her retainer had done. Byleth had the feeling that this wasn't the first time she'd witnessed how Hubert operated. He quietly wondered if the imperial princess encouraged this behavior.
Looking around at the students, he nodded. "Yes, we shall. Everyone, to the classroom. I'm going to go over the mission details." The crowd finally began to disperse, several of them even speed walking away. Note to self, never let Hubert be the one to drag Bernadetta out of her room ever again.
You could always just kick the door down yourself. Sothis offered.
I'll save that for when I really need her to let me in. And I've stopped caring about her seeing him as a supportive figure in her life, which I'm not too keen on giving up.
Well then, pray to me that day never comes. The goddess nonchalantly remarked.
Eleven o'clock, Southern Renpet…
The road was similar to the one that they'd taken from Remire to Garreg Mach, though differences started to become apparent further into the journey. Whereas that path contained grass and trees heading up into the mountains, this one was lacking in those things. While a few patches of greenery could be gleaned, it was all outweighed by barren brown. In the distance towering mountains comparable to the Oghma Mountains could be seen, but they seemed like miles away. The further down the path they went, the further away they became.
It was easy to understand why the County of Varley chose to specialize in mining and blacksmithing. Farming wasn't exactly an option, and neither was hunting. According to his readings, the underground rivers and reservoirs reached far enough into the county that water could still be procured in the case of a drought. That said, summers could still be harsh with the sun beating down on the land with little shade in sight. On the flipside, that also went for when it did rain.
Glancing up at the sky, it was clear there wasn't a chance of that happening. Though there were a healthy number of clouds, none of them signaled a storm was approaching. Byleth couldn't smell it in the air either. He wouldn't exactly have been dismayed if it did. A little rain and thunder might have helped them out a little.
"You've got a good eye."
Looking to his right, he responded to the short remark. "When I'm given a mission, I try to fulfill it to the best of my ability. On top of that, it's good to know your surroundings. I've only been to the central parts of Renpet; there's still a lot about it that I don't know about."
Rhona gave him a tiny smile. Like him, she wasn't partial to grand displays of emotion, at least not unless she was in the company of people she deeply trusted. Byleth believed that after their sparring match on Monday, she'd gained a respect for him as he had for her. "Now you've seen the southern half of it, the border we share with Adrestia. Not exactly glamorous, but it is what it is. Besides, some of the more rowdy knights like it. These lands make for good training grounds for them."
"I can see that."
"Do you plan on using them yourself? I'd recommend Grezzo Valley, it's got plenty of room for you."
"Grezzo Valley," Byleth repeated with a thoughtful look. "I've heard that name amongst some of the knights.
"It's further to the west, on the Renpet-Leicester border." The redheaded sorceress explained. "It's been used by both the Seiros Knights and the Alliance for training. Technically speaking, the land belongs to the Church, but like I said, the Alliance has been allowed to it use as they wish. So too has the Kingdom and the Empire, so you could say it's free to all." Her smile grew as he digested the information. "You're a fighter, alright. I can see it on your face. Perhaps going there you'll meet a rival, or shall I say another rival. I have a feeling that you'll gain a few more at the Gladiolus Cup."
"Those sorts of things seem to happen at tournaments. Rivals are settled and made." He'd seen it with his own eyes hundreds of times, and been a part of it. Byleth had come to believe that was one of the reasons tournaments existed. "Rhona, what do you think my odds are?" Their eyes met as she sensed the seriousness of his question. Her smile fell as she prepared to give him the unclothe truth. He'd already shown that he could take such things, no matter how harsh they were.
"Between the two of you, I'd lean toward Sebastian, at least in a straight up sword fight." His expression didn't change in the slightest. "I loath him, he brings shame to Faerghus and the Knights of Seiros, but I won't deny that he's supremely skilled. Using nothing but his swordsmanship he can fell fifty men, and that isn't even the full extent of his power. Then again…I've heard stories that you can do the same. In fact, I've never actually seen you wield a sword." Her smile returned in its same capacity. It was encouraging, which Byleth found some solace in. "If you're anything like your father with a spear, then I believe you have a chance. Let me say this, Byleth, I'll be rooting for you." Her gaze was directed skyward, where a lone object was keeping pace with them. "Enrico will too, oh, and-"
"Hey! You guys talking about me down there!"
Both looked up, Rhona with a visible smile while Byleth's neutral frown remained. Even when he wasn't looking, he always kept their party's wyvern flier in mind. He was their eyes in the sky, and their air support, both of which were going to prove very useful in this mission.
"Huh, so this is the new Head Captain's kid. The legendary Ashen Demon. Hmm, you're not what I was expecting."
"I get that a lot."
"Haha! I'm sure you do. If I weren't told so, I'd find it hard to believe you're Jeralt's kid!" The wyvern flier laughed. His hair was silvery gray, highlighting his dark blue eyes. It was easy to guess that he was a man who wasn't too concerned with appearances, at least not when it wasn't a priority. "Well, I've heard some good things about you, namely that you can hold your own in a fight, and you've got a sharp mind. That's good, the dastards we're dealing with can be a slippery bunch, so you're going to need to be on your toes."
"Assuming that these people have been at this for a while, then that's true."
"Oh, they have. They're the sort that won't mind butchering the kids under your care. If not butchering them, holding them hostage for ransom. I don't need to tell you that you've got a lot of gold-feathered hatchlings under your watch." As he spoke, the look in his eyes changed. The joviality was gone. A sharp seriousness had replaced it, and it was being directed toward Byleth. It didn't need to be, but he accepted it none the less. "I'll be looking forward to see what you've got, Byleth Eisner."
"Just discussing how much we wish you'd comb that rat's nest you call hair!" Rhona yelled back.
"It's part of my charm! Come on, Rhona, you know that!" Shouted back the aerial knight. "I promise you, I'll have a dozen dates in time for Saint Macuil Day!"
"Remember we're on a mission, Enrico!" Shouted back the redhead. She still had that smile on her face. Everything spoken between them had been nothing but friendly banter. It gave Byleth an insight into their relationship. Rhona looked back down at him, still holding that same smile. "He'll follow your orders to the letter. You've got a plan for him, don't you?"
"I'll hold back until we get there and see what we're dealing with. Though…I wouldn't mind it if we had a little a rain and thunder. That would be beneficial to you, wouldn't it?"
"Quite right, but this sunny weather won't impede my magic if it comes down to it."
"Good to know."
"Professor Eisner-"
"Byleth." He corrected. "You can just call me Byleth. It…makes me feel a little bit better."
Her smile grew. "I see. Byleth, you believe that there's corruption afoot?"
"Based on what I've heard, Count Varley is not a pleasant man. That kind of rulership breads discontent in the best of cases, and in the worse, disloyalty. From what I've gleaned, things aren't all that well in the Empire which provides makes things worse." His hold on his horse tightened as he looked further ahead of him. Edelgard seemed to be deep in conversation with Hubert, and Ferdinand. "Edelgard told me the weapons used by the bandits in Remire were likely smuggled out of Adrestia. Taken together, things aren't all right in the Empire."
"No, they're not. Matter of fact, we could be heading into an internal dispute. You see, Byleth, while House Varley is in charge of the Ministry of Religion, it's also begun to dip its hands into judicial matters." Rhona explained.
"But isn't that the domain of House Hevring?"
"Yes, it has, and it's understandably led to friction between the two houses. Not that you could tell that looking at the heir apparent." On that, Byleth agreed. Linhardt hadn't brought it up, and Bernadetta was very much the same. "Given the greed of Count Varley, it's not entirely surprising. Especially given the state of Adrestia. Power plays are common whenever the emperor is weak; it's not something Adrestia is proud of, but everyone knows it."
He wasn't surprised. A weak monarch meant that power resisted in those beneath him, and such people could be averse to sharing, or being content with their current stations. "Is something of this rooted in how the Church has been barred from Adrestia for past two centuries? I can imagine that meant that the Ministry of Religion hasn't had as much work to do as it could have."
"Not quite, but the current Count Varley has always been rather skilled in law. Some of this is simply him using his accumulated knowledge to make for a power grab. Unfortunately, that grab includes Bernadetta as well. The poor thing." The smile completely fell as she looked further ahead.
After Hubert forced her out of her room, Bernadetta had that same look of resignation on her face as his father had. On her face though, it was even more pitiful to see. She was dreading going back home, knowing what awaited her was more than likely not going to be a warm welcome. Byleth had taken note of that and had braced himself for something…unsightly. Everything in his gut told him that's what he was going to run into. It actually wasn't all that different from some of his jobs as a mercenary. His life as a teacher and as a mercenary were lining up in some aspects.
Looking further ahead he was reminded that while they had some similarities, there were still differences. Striking differences.
Garreg Mach…
There were times Rhea felt like her breaks would never come. Though she knew her work was important and she learned to take joy in it, sometimes the things she could do with her free time possessed an incredibly strong pull. That pull simply motivated her to finish up faster. Sometimes it made her feel like her old self, the her that still lived peacefully in Zanado with the rest of her people. A handful of her old working habits had served her well in her role as archbishop, albeit a few had to evolve.
It was much easier dealing with plants than people.
Her hands moved with vigor through document after document, her eyes speed reading every word as well. That was one such skill she'd gotten good at, particularly when she was motivated. This afternoon, she knew what she wanted to do with her break-there was someone she wanted to go see. Her heart beat a tick faster with anticipation at the meeting. She contained it enough that she didn't let it disrupt her administrative work. Rhea had learned how to channel such feelings centuries ago.
When her writing quill finally fell, she felt that excitement ignite a small explosion within her. Intermixed with it as anxiety, another all too familiar feeling. She'd have much to say to her old friend when she went to meet her. But first, she had to pick up something.
It was a path she'd tread dozens of times over the past twenty years. She knew it by heard, and she knew the dozens of alternative routes she could have taken. They all led to the same place, rain, snow, or shine. Sometimes Rhea took the alternate paths to give herself just a little more time. Other times she did it simply to be less conspicuous. On a day like today though, she didn't mind being seen. Several people had taken notice of her habit over the last two decades. A handful asked her about it while many others chose to remain respectfully silent.
The time she spent as a gardener had left her with an expansive knowledge of flowers. Unfortunately, some of those she tended to in the past no longer existed. She'd made due though.
As usual, Rhea made sure she gathered up the finest sunflowers and peonies to place on Sitri's grave. She regretted that this was the first time that she was going to see her since the return of her husband and son; even the excuse that she had her duties to take care of rang rather hollow. If she could, she was sure Sitri would simply smile and nod in understanding. That would still do little to alleviate her guilt. She should have gone to see her sooner. That said, a part of her counterargued that she wanted to wait until Jeralt and Byleth had gone to see her. As much as she loved Sitri, it would have been far more important for her husband and son to visit her. That was especially true in the case of the latter. It still shook her how little Jeralt had told Byleth about his family.
But…you know why. You know how you played a hand in that. Spoke a shadowy subconscious voice. Rhea continued walking even though she considered the words.
Call it fanciful, but she'd have liked to talked with Jeralt before Sitri's grave. She'd meant a great deal to both of them. Losing her had been…devastating. As she welcomed her old friend back into the fold, she saw that it'd been considerably more so in Jeralt's case, in ways she couldn't imagine. As for Byleth…it was painful to think about how he didn't know a thing about his own mother. He deserved to know.
Had he gone to visit her grave yet? Did he even know where it was? Rhea dearly hoped so. As much as a part of her wanted to be the one to tell him, she felt like it was Jeralt's responsibility-no-even his right.
More often than not, the graves smelled of flowers. The bouquets and memorial flowers people left often gave the Monastery graveyard a pleasant fragrance. It was one small way to lessen the dreary sorrow that hung over that corner of Garreg Mach. That said, her draconic nose was sharp enough to pick out the numerous human scents of visitors. On this particular visit, she searched out the remains of two particular scents. She found neither, but she did find a newcomer kneeling before Sitri's grave. Likewise, she heard the whisper of a prayer for the deceased. The overall recognition of a newcomer to Sitri's grave stopped Rhea in her tracks. Quickly, she hid herself behind one of the walls, only peaking out. With her superhuman sight, she was able to clearly see the newcomer, kneeling before her close friends' grave.
She vaguely recognized her as belonging to Jeralt's mercenary company. Rather than a fighter, she was a healer of the group, a Church of Seiros nun even. She was also a native of Dagda, just like Shamir.
Unlike her indebted archer, she possessed flowing ebony hair that reached down to the middle of her back. It briefly swayed in the wind as it blew by. Rhea immediately caught onto the sorrowful, yet relieved aura that surrounded the woman. Her own green eyes faced toward the tombstone while her lips alternated between opening and closing. Watching her, Rhea knew exactly what the woman was going through.
Her ears picked up her whispers, hearing every ounce of the doubt and confession that she managed to put into words. She could have sworn she heard the courage too. "I humble beg you to understand. I do not and never have in any wait meant to undermine you. Byleth will always only ever have one mother, and though he never knew of you, that person will always be you. All I've done is…substitute for you, as best I could."
Hearing that made Rhea's entire body seize up. Substitute for you…as best I could. She repeated within her head. The words penetrated deep into her core, which pulsated with raw emotion. Within seconds she felt a spark of kinship with the woman beneath her. It only grew as she continued to speak, her voice remaining soft and humble as she did so.
"You gave birth to a good son. He's grown up into an amazing man, a noble one I would even say." There was a brief pause as unease overcame her face. Rhea had only seconds to speculate what the cause of it was. Her speculation ended as the woman began to speak again. "I will admit, he has…Byleth…the blades that have been swung have not always been in the name of the greater good. That said, I can assure you he's never spilled the blood of the innocent. He's hunted down those who have and slain them with righteous fury. As for the innocent themselves, well…he's not always been the best at interacting with them, but he's tended to them in a way that I believe you would be proud of, Ms. Sitri. As Jeralt has told me, he inherited your kind spirit. Here at Garreg Mach, I'm sure it will grow, especially since he's been given the task of instructing for one of the three houses." Her forlorn expression briefly broke in the form of a joyful laugh. "Captain Jeralt won't say it, but he's a little disappointed Byleth chose the Black Eagles over the Blue Lions. Personally, all of us in the company thought that he would choose the Blue Lions as well."
Regarding Jeralt's background, and indeed his character, Rhea could say she was surprised as well. Byleth had seemingly inherited much of his father's martial prowess, so the martially-inclined Blue Lions might have been a better fit for him. Several Faerghus natives had apparently lamented that he'd chosen the Black Eagles as much as her reappointed Head Captain had. As for the Adrestian natives, well, a handful of knights were rather pleased that such a figure had chosen the Black Eagles to teach. What none of them knew was that Byleth had a connection to Adrestia just as he did to Faerghus through his father. Jeralt in fact was half-Adrestian himself, which meant that Byleth was had a quarter of the Empire's blood in his veins.
Given who his Adrestian ancestors were, it was rather poetic he was heading to Zellerfeld, the heart of the Empire's blacksmithing. Byleth had no idea that he was visiting the birthplace of his parental grandfather, great-grandfather, and so forth. Unfortunately, the smithery that once belonged to his family was long since gone.
Rhea tuned her focus back to the woman as she continued to speak. "Byleth rarely talks about it, but one day, he'd like to be a knight. A real, professional knight. It's a quiet dream of his that I've always supported." Rhea's eyes widened hearing the confession. Maybe not as much as she should have, but it still came as a little bit of a surprise to her. "Make no mistake, he's proud of his work as a mercenary, and he's proud to call himself such, even if he must defend that pride. Still, since he was seventeen, I've noticed how he's thought of being more than a sell sword. He has a strong sense of commitment; while it's a good trait for a mercenary, it's far more befitting of a knight in my opinion. In my opinion, he'd make a great Knight of Seiros; I…I believe you would be even more proud of him if he were to become one. I would be. B-B-But if he were to become a knight of Adrestia, I-I wouldn't mind either! He'd be the sort of knight that I believe young Adrestians should aspire to be. Partially for myself, and for the rest of my countrymen."
The woman's words gave Rhea much to think about. What stuck in her mind the most though was the prospect of Byleth becoming a Knight of Seiros. It certainly was an option, a path that she could see unfolding in the future. Had he stayed at the Monastery, had Jeralt not ran away, it would have been even more likely. He'd have grown up a squire, if not his father's then under the watchful eye of some other exceptional knights. What sort of life would that have been?
No, that doesn't matter. He's far too old and much too skilled to be anyone's squire. I imagine he could fight off an entire division by himself. She sometimes hated how she still found herself given way to wistful what-ifs. Still, for him to become a knight now… Rhea had to admit she wouldn't have minded it. She'd have offered him knighthood if he hadn't accepted a teaching position. So far, it seemed that he was doing better as a teacher-he certainly brought a fresh perspective that she hoped would serve the students well in the months and even years to come.
"Captain Jeralt told me that you were a truly kind woman with no prejudices, so I…hope you don't mind some Dagdan influence I had in raising him. Teaching him my people's cuisine, our language, and some of our customs. For the latter, you can rest assured that he knows how to be punctual, but he still knows to be flexible." Both of her hands fell to her lap. Her shoulders hunched tightened as she once again bowed her head. "Again, I never meant to replace you in his heart. There is a place for you in his heart, Ms. Sitri. I-I believe maybe I should have opened with that. Despite never knowing of you, not even your face, he's held a place in his heart for you. Captain Jeralt at least told him that you loved him from the moment you held him, and…I believe that's given him strength on several occasions."
Despite her words, Rhea could still see the longing on her face. Byleth may have been told his mother loved him, but he had nothing so much as a memento from her. He held a faceless woman in his heart; however, it was still commendable that he did so when others would have easily written her off. Or completely supplemented her with the woman who had filled the role of a mother in his life.
Rhea didn't even know this woman's name, but from what she'd observed, she'd done a good job in filling in for Sitri. She'd done enough to make her best friend proud. That thought had her feet moving before she was conscious of the fact. Rhea made the decision to keep on going despite the realization. She'd felt a kinship with the woman who'd taken to raising Byleth, who'd unknowingly revealed several things to her.
At the very least she wanted to know her name. Also, she wanted to tell her something very important.
"Sitri would be grateful to you, and proud of him. I can say that for certain." She called out.
In retrospect, she probably should have announced herself. Then again, if she had she'd have caused a spectacle. Ultimately though, calling out to her from out of the blue had the exact same effect.
"She-a-a-ahhh! L-L-L-L-L-Lady Rhea! W-W-What?! W-W-What are you doing here?!" her scream was loud enough it could probably be heard in the mountains miles away.
She couldn't help but find something amusing in her reaction. It wasn't out of the ordinary, especially when Rhea chose to appear seemingly out of the blue. Times like this, those stealth skills she'd honed to save her life now presented her with new, and amusing, opportunities.
Before the shock of her appearance could wear off, she moved to speak. "I'm sorry for sneaking up on you. I just…found myself overwhelmed with joy that someone was visiting Sitri, and had so much to say to her. Most importantly, I'm glad that there was someone there for her son, something she'd have wanted."
"S-S-Sitri?" Looking between the grave and her, the woman made the connection. Her green eyes, a shade darker than Rhea's, widened as the realization sunk in. "Y-Y-Y-You knew her?"
Rhea nodded. "She was my best friend, and she was…taken from the world far too soon." The woman's eyes moved from her face to the flowers in her hands. Her mouth widened in shock at the personal tidbit of information. It wasn't one that many people knew of, especially here at the Monastery.
"I-I…I never knew. I-I'm…I'm so sorry for your loss, Lady Rhea. I-I never knew-"
"It's quite alright." Came her soothing voice. "Not that many people know about the connection she and I shared." Stepping forward, she bowed and placed her bouquet beside the woman's. "It's been a while since anyone besides myself and a handful of others talked this much to Sitri."
Seeing her kneeling soothed the woman just as much as her words did. Her face softened considerably as she realized that Rhea was here for the exact same purpose as her.
"I wish that…Byleth got to know her. It's painful to never know the face of one's parents. Their face, their voice, their smile." She mused with heavy eyes.
"Yes, it is." Rhea knew the loss of a parent, she'd seen it too many times, along with the loss of children. That was the pain that Sitri was facing, and it was one she couldn't go through. "She…she'd have loved Byleth as dearly as any mother would her child. She was full of such kindness and generosity." As Rhea turned to face her, she did the same. The awe of what was happening to her still lingered, but it was overlayed with her desire to know more about the woman known as Sitri Eisner. "Sitri wasn't the type of person to care about a person's race or nationality. She simply treated everyone with kindness as she felt it was what all living beings deserved."
Relief spread across the Dagdan woman's face at the news. Slowly, her lips formed a smile as she looked back to the tombstone. "I…I see. I'm happy to hear that."
Looking back to the tombstone, Rhea spoke again. "She'd have been happy that someone like you was there to help look after Byleth. She also would have been happy you did the same for Jeralt."
"He…rarely talked about his past." She offered, almost like an apology.
"Yes, I'm learning just how much so." Rhea replied barefoot of the sorrow that came with learning that. "Has he visited Sitri?"
"I honestly don't know. I don't know if Byleth has either." She further confessed with a grave look. It was clear that it was eating away at her just as much as it was for Rhea. "A part of me wants to bring him here, but I feel as if I have no right to. It feels like-"
"It's best left to his actual father." She finished for her. The woman nodded. While she was still respectful of her leader, it was obvious that she had her disagreements with Jeralt. Especially on the matter of the woman who'd been the love of his life and the mother of his child. She was still a complete stranger to said child. Rhea sighed, "That sounds like Jeralt. Still able to keep his secrets."
"Sometimes it's amazed me. The man is a model knight, yet his ability to remain silent and secretive befitting of a spy." She remarked with slight bewilderment.
Rhea found herself chuckling. "At least when he's sober. I don't believe that's changed, has it?"
Her face broke into an expression of amusement. "No, it hasn't. Some of the most interesting things I've learned about the captain came from when he was drunk. I'm just glad he isn't a violent drunk, I've seen my fair share of those." Rhea sensed there was a story there. She chose not to pry into it, not now. "He can be a great deal more talkative than."
"As do most people." Rhea affirmed with further chuckling. Good to know that some things haven't changed." My old friend, I wonder how many of your drunken brawls had to be cleaned up. "If I may, could I get your name?"
"Oh, my apologies! I should have introduced myself to you first, your grace! I-It's Gilah, Gilah Regeve. I-It's an honor to meet you, Lady Rhea." She'd scooted away, just enough to give her room to bow her head to her.
"And it's an honor to meet you as well, Gilah." It was a name that she was certain she was going to remember, and hear more of it. In no small thanks to her blooming desire to learn about this woman and the life she'd led with her old friend. And the influence she'd had over his son, whom she'd already built a rampart with.
Gilah smiled, her eyes twinkling in awe at the exchange she'd just had with her. Being a devote follower, she likely never expected to have such a personal encounter with the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros herself. "Thank you for looking after Jeralt all these years. Byleth as well."
"If anything, he looked after me, and everyone else in the company." The bright smile remained, fueled by pleasant memories that Rhea had an inkling of. "He's still one of the bravest men I've ever met. Brave, capable, and just."
"Those are all traits that made Sitri fall in love with him." Rhea affirmed. She knew that there were a handful of others, but she chose to keep those to herself. "Jeralt was drawn to her for similar traits, though her beauty did indeed catch his eye."
"Then I was right." Gilah whispered to herself more so than Rhea.
"That Byleth inherited more of his mother's looks? I hear that he's been met with disbelief on account of his appearance."
"Yes, it's something he never seems to mind explaining, but it so often leaves people curious." The Dagdan woman explained.
Rhea wasn't surprised. When Byleth was born, it was clear he was going to grow to take after her mother. The blue hair on his head and blue eyes that undoubtedly came from his mother. Seeing him again after twenty years, she could see that her assumption had been right. "She was a very beautiful woman. Jeralt was far from the only man smitten with her."
"I can imagine. Byleth's managed to impress quite a few ladies over the years as well. Sadly, the attraction's always been one-sided." Gilah declared with a playful sigh. "He may be somewhat lacking in social graces, but his honesty, humility, martial prowess, and finally his looks have caught the eye of many women, including nobles."
Rhea found herself chuckling in hearty amusement. It certainly seemed that Byleth had inherited much from both of his parents. "Am I correct in guessing that none of them caught his eye?"
"You would be right, your grace." Gilah responded with a softened laugh. It was equal parts amused and saddened. She wanted the still young mercenary to find love, but she didn't want to push it onto him. From what she'd seen, romance was probably one of the things he was least concerned about. "I've already had a friend in Belfawst take note of him. Then again, that's also because he's been a good teacher to Ms. Petra so far. I'm grateful that she was allowed attendance to the Officers Academy."
That attendance hadn't been easy. There had been considerable pushback to allowing the Brigid princess to come to Garreg Mach. It was understandable why-she was a hostage of the Adrestian Empire. She wasn't even allowed to transfer out of the Black Eagles House without going through the State Ministry, a process that would take several weeks to months, thus eating up a chunk of the school year. Fortunately, with Byleth as the Eagles' teacher, Rhea didn't believe there would be any need for her to transfer.
"I consider it a blessing from the goddess returned to the Monastery in time to teach her, and Adrestia's next emperor."
"To have all three future leaders here at the academy in the year of our return. I'd almost say that the goddess ordained it herself." Gilah mused.
Rhea herself wondered that. Then again, she was willing to believe that it was simply luck. Pure luck unguided by any divine hand. Such a thing might have been blasphemous given her position, but she'd long since learned that such things existed.
"In all of the academy's history, it's never had noble Dagdan students. I know they possess a noble class." Rhea remarked, curious to what the Dagdan native beside her would say.
"That we do, but…I don't think any noble families, or surviving ones, will ever send their child here to Garreg Mach. Particularly many would not want them side by side the students of Adrestia." She responded with a shake of her head. The downcast expression she had spoke volumes of where relationships between Fódlan and its neighbor across the western sea stood. Or to be more specific, relations between Adrestia and Dagda. It wasn't too surprising. "If such a thing were to happen, I'd be happy to see it, but I've made peace it probably won't happen in my life time. What I want is to…"
Despite being only as long as a second, Rhea saw the transformation on Gilah's face. It was the sprouting of something dark that wrapped its roots around her, strangling her optimistic smile into submission. From its corpse rose a deep frown that Rhea was able to immediately read.
"This place is your home, Gilah. Garreg Mach Monastery, and Fódlan itself." Her words were soothing yet attention grabbing, both of which were what Rhea hoped for. Gilah's face broke into bewilderment as she stared at her. "You are welcome here in this church and in this land. Never let anyone tell you any different." The mystification continued, further validating what Rhea had theorized. This woman needed to hear this, just like numerous others.
"L-L-Lady Rhea, I-I…I…I am…honored to be the receiver of such words." She eventually responded, bowing her head while doing so.
You may have received them, but please, Gilah, take them to heart. Use them to strengthen yourself. The Nabatean thought. She'd seen it often, especially with her followers. Hearing something was one thing, understanding it and taking it to heart was another. But…then again, it's my fault she's having to go through this. Spat an old voice from within her mind. The words struck her behind her unchanging face.
"Gilah! Gilah! Where are-w-w-what? L-L-L-Lady Rhea? Lady Rhea!"
She bit back a sigh of discontent at the fact that their time together was at an end. Gilah stood up, a slight blush on her cheeks. Rhea smiled a little at the expression. This was undoubtedly an unexpected sight for the priest that had came looking for her. They could still hold onto their privacy, but Rhea had a feeling that like her, Gilah had duties that required her attention. She wouldn't keep her from them.
Seeing that in her smile, Gilah gave her the deepest bow thus far. "Your grace, I can't thank you enough for taking the time to talk with me. It was truly a blessing that I promise I will prove worthy of."
"Just keep them in mind, and hold your head up with pride. You're amongst your brothers and sisters of the faith." She added. Rhea hoped that her words would sink in and give the woman the strength she needed. If not…well, she was a resident of the Monastery, a nun. She could try to find her and try again. "Have a wonderful day, Gilah."
"I-I-I will, Lady Rhea, and the same to you!" Despite being an adult, she had a pep in her step as she walked away. The excited beating of her heart was clear to Rhea's ears. She was glad that the woman had left Sitri's grave in joy instead of the downcast state she'd like arrived at. That left her to attempt the same.
It would be easier said than done.
"Sitri, your son has led an interesting life, as have your husband. It's no surprise really." She began in a whispering voice. Even with the slight deviation, things were back to normal. Still, the presence of Gilah Regeve lingered beside her. "They've been in good hands, and I…would like to say that they've returned to their rightful home. I…I hope this time they'll be able to stay, make a life here as you did. As you and Jeralt planned on doing with Byleth."
At the thought of the young man, Rhea found herself focusing her thoughts on him. How was he doing? By now she was certain that his party was close to Zellerfeld, if not there already. Whatever they-he-faced, Rhea was certain that the threat would be subdued with efficiency.
The moment Byleth saw the familiar black stacks of smoke, he knew that they'd arrived at their destination. Closely after those were the stone towers, standing high above the ground and severing the landscape like sentinels. He had a feeling that at least some of those towers had actual sentinels stationed there. Over the next ten minutes they came into range of the city guard.
"Finally here, Zellerfeld, forging capital of the Adrestian Empire." Rhona called out to him.
"I miss Garreg Mach." He heard Bernadetta squeak.
That's the first time I've heard her say something positive about the Monastery. It could have been argued it was because of the vastness of the city that lay before them. A collection if buildings rose up-like an island in the middle of a sea, a sea of barren rock. It was an eye-catching sigh given there was nothing resembling civilization for miles, at least given the way they'd came.
Byleth's battle-addled mind took note of the lack of walls surrounding the city. Again, given its surroundings, it's likely that the original builders felt like they had no use for them.
As they grew closer, he saw that the central part of the city seemingly sat on a hilltop, elevating it over the rest of the city. Byleth knew that's where Bremen Cathedral, the religious heart of the Empire, lay. That was their destination, and it seemed hundreds of miles away. He was sure those miles would rapidly vanish once they got past the city guard and were escorted in and to the count. His eyes moved across his students.
While they were all chatting amongst themselves, Bernadetta looked like they were on their way to the capital of hell. It was a small wonder she hadn't commanded her horse to turn around and try to ride away. Several times Byleth had the feeling she was about to do just that, but she'd stayed with them. Albeit she had pulled her hood over her face so tightly it seemed to have became a second skin. He had a feeling that either he was going to have to order her to take it off or her father would. His gut told him it'd be preferable if he did it.
"Not exactly the most beautiful city in the empire, but it has its merits." Looking back, he found that Edelgard had ridden up to join him. Together, they faced toward the approaching city with neutral gazes. "Seventy-percent of all weapons forged in the empire can have their origin traced back here, including some royal commissioned by the imperial family."
I'd ask if those weapons those bandits had might have passed through here, but we've already got one important mission to focus on. Maybe I can come back here on my own time and see what I can dig up. "What about this smuggling ring which has had a foothold here?"
"A fault of the past counts, who've shirked their duties in favor of their personal ambition." Came her immediate and flat answer. Her face gave away no emotion as she dogged out her classmate's family. At least Bernadetta wasn't mentioning, or there weren't any implications she'd continue her forefather's faults. "Some sixty years ago, mercy taken on criminals was allowed, and from that mercy came an illegal smuggling operation that has plagued Zellerfeld since. I would be remiss to say that it's entire House Varley's fault, there was some…help from the Leicester Alliance. Such is its nature."
"I take it you don't see the Alliance in a favorable light, Edelgard?" He asked.
"On account of its disunity, which it just barely rebound from with the appearance of Claude. I would hope that he might bring some stability to it, but…no, that is a story for another time."
So there's a time and a place for badmouthing the Alliance? "Rhona told me that lately Count Varley's begun to take on some judicial duties, has that in any way helped crackdown on the criminal element?"
"So I've heard, albeit it's been impeded by the spat with House Hreving. It's disgraceful, but such is the nature of the nobility." She finished with a deep, frustrated sigh. Byleth felt a bit of sympathy for her. She knew that if this feud wasn't settled before she took the throne, she'd have to deal with it herself. "As much bad as Zellerfeld's smuggling ring is, I'm sad to say it's nothing compared to Enbarr's."
"I heard something about that, actually. Enbarr has the biggest black market in not just the empire, but the whole continent."
"Regrettably, yes. The more valuable the goods, the more likely they will pass through Enbarr's black market. They'll also likely go from there to different parts of the Empire and the Alliance."
As Rhona rode up to the city guardsmen, Byleth responded, "It seems this time the trip to Enbarr's being skipped."
"I would say that's a good thing. There is far more to the imperial capital than where the thieves and scum do business. So much more. I'm hopeful that one day I will be able to show you its splendor properly."
"That makes two of us, Edelgard. I'm hoping Enbarr will be all that it's made out to be." The guards parted ways allowing their party in. Looking up he saw Enrico and his wyvern had been holding their position, but at Rhona's signal flew right on in. Unlike the rest of them, he wasn't going to be meeting with Count Varley, imperial priests, or any soldiers. Not immediately.
"Just count on me to be the eyes in the sky and the shadows. Trust me, it's what I do."
"Be careful, Enrico." He whispered as he urged his horse forward.
-O-
It didn't take too long for Byleth to notice the difference between the Church of Seiros at Garreg Mach and the Imperial Ministry of Religion. He quickly found himself preferring the former, for his sake and his students.
Petra remained silent and composed as she was the recipient of one whispering glare after another. The tribal marking on her face was proof of her Brigid heritage, and it was well-known to many, especially the imperial clergy. They caught one look at the purple marking and their disdain came out in a heartbeat. None of them were vocal about it, which he considered a beneficial. They might have recognized why they were there, not to mention they were there with the Knights of Seiros.
He was the recipient of some of those looks himself. By now it was likely news of his new occupation had made the rounds, at least this close to the Monastery. A few of them pointed and stared at him like he was some inhuman entity. Others whispered in shock that he was seemingly human, a stereotypical reaction that he paid little mind to. Few of his students paid mind to them, their focus was more on the vastness of the cathedral they found themselves in.
That was another point of difference. Though grand in its own right, Bremen Cathedral paled in comparison to Garreg Mach. Not to mention the former was more overtly nationalistic. From the rafters hung the Adrestian flag alongside dozens of pieces of imperial iconography. A walk down the main aisle felt more like a walk through a small national parade. It was as he'd read in the Monastery library and been told of by its residents. The latter had told him to refrain from saying or doing anything that might be considered a breach of decorum. Byleth already knew that. Despite practicing the Seiros faith, it was being filtered through a nationalist lens. That was undoubtedly at its strongest as he looked straight ahead down the main aisle and laid eyes on the mosaic at the end.
While the Crest of Seiros was there, it was clenched in-between the talons of a giant, jet-black eagle with its wings stretched out. Scarlet red it, invoking the banner of the Black Eagles despite the colors being inversed. The image was imposing, leaving no doubt as to what Adrestia thought of itself.
Moving his eyes up, he spotted the Crest of Flames situated above the eagle. It seemed to be emitting light of its own, which cast reached down to the rest of the window as golden rays. While its importance was established, it's presence was still dwarfed by the eagle's and the Crest of Seiros. Byleth couldn't help but stare in contemplation at that.
Sensing the rousing of his spiritual partner, he looked to his right. Sure enough, there was Sothis, hovering a few feet off the ground and examining the mosaic like him. Anything jogging your memory? A sense of jealousy or anger at how your Crest is apparently less emphasized than your divine emissary? He asked.
No memories, though I must say that this nation sure is going to great lengths to show that they have my favor. The goddess responded.
It's not unreasonable. It was Saint Seiros that helped find Adrestia and she had a hand in building its capital city. She was handling it rather well, though Byleth severely doubted Sothis would throw a tantrum over the things he pointed out. Like him, she was examining the mosaic for all that it represented. You know, a part of me can't help but wonder if there's a church in Faerghus that has something like this."
I wouldn't be surprised, in fact, I'm sure one such mosaic like this may exist.
What do you personally think of it? Feel like it's divine enough?
Heh, I suppose so. Albeit the abundance of red is…a bit much in my taste. I'd prefer blue, or even green.
He gave a ghostly smile at the colors she suggested. Admittedly, Byleth agreed with her somewhat, though he could understand the red coloration. As he'd previously observed, the Ministry of Religion put a slightly nationalist bent on the Seiros faith.
"Professor Eisner, are you still with us? Surely you haven't been rendered totally speechless by Adrestia's piety-fueled artistry?"
"No, Edelgard, not completely." He replied in casual recovery. "I'll be right with you."
"The sooner you were with us, the quicker this'll be over with." She muttered beneath her breath.
Little over a minute later and he found the reason for her discontent. There assembled together in a small assembly room, he came face to face with the Minister of Religion. Byleth heard him before he saw him, he heard the string of complaints that reminded him of Bernadetta. Laying eyes on him, he saw the physical resemblance as he spoke-or rather-ranted to Rhona. Having entered the room, the sorceress briefly looked to him. She looked like she'd happily switch places with him. Unfortunately, her second's long glance resulted in the count turning his attention to Byleth.
"Y-Y-You! You're the mercenary that the Church hired! That it let teach the Black Eagles!" He yelled with a pointed finger.
"Yes, that would be me. Byleth Eisner, it's-"
"Do you have the slightest idea what is you're being tasked with transporting?! Do you!" Count Varley swerved his head back to Rhona, ending her temporary reprieve. "What on earth possessed the archbishop to send him here!"
"These are his students." Rhona immediately replied. Her voice couldn't be anymore indifferent than if she tried. "Count, Lady Rhea dispatched her best to oversee this transfer. Surely you know that my presence is proof enough of that."
Byleth took his place beside her. It wasn't just him wanting to prove his capability, it felt wrong to leave Rhona to face this man's paranoia on her own. Behind him stood his students. It could have been said that they were all in perfect linear formation…except Bernadetta was hiding behind Dorothea. Speaking of the young songstress, she was trying and failing to conceal her contempt for her classmate's father. The rest of the students were succeeding with gusto, albeit in the case of Linhardt it was more like disinterest. Knowing him, he likely wanted to get a look at what their precious cargo was.
"Are you absolutely sure he can be trusted?" He heard Count Varley swipe.
"As I said, Lady Rhea herself put him on this detail." Rhona answered.
"Perhaps, but he is still a mercenary for hire. Not to mention it is not like all of the archbishop's choices have been for the best."
To her credit, Rhona kept her stoic demeanor, as did Byleth. He'd heard this before from Sebastian and the members of the Western Church. He'd kept his composure then, and he was certainly able to keep it in the face of this nerve-wrecked man's paranoia.
"How do I know he isn't on someone's payroll!"
"I'm satisfied with my pay from the Church, in case you're wondering." He just couldn't keep it to himself anymore. The quip spilled out, and once it was out, he couldn't take it back. Behind him, he heard feminine snickering from Dorothea. And masculine snickering from Hubert.
Count Varley wasn't laughing though. "This is no matter to be joking about! If something goes wrong here, do you have any idea what will befall House Varley! The shame that will be inflicted upon us and the Ministry? Do you, understand, Bernadetta!"
The archer jumped, nearly hitting her head against the ceiling. What hope Bernadetta had that she could melt into the background dissolved with her father's shout. For her, it was practically the reaper screaming her name.
"I-I-I-I understand! I-I-I won't mess up! I-I-I promise! I-I-I'll do my duty to Ho-H-H-House Varley, father. I-I-I swear!" The fact that she tripped over nearly every word was quite indicative. Seeing the raw fear gripping Bernadetta from head to toe invoked a sense of protectiveness in Byleth.
That feeling was reinforced as her father responded. "You'd better! I have visiting dignitaries from the capital! Someone who may actually be willing to take you up as a wife! Provided you don't make a fool of yourself or blunder this incredibly important opportunity!"
"I-I won't! I promise I won't!" While making that promise she seemed a hair's breath away from breaking down into tears.
"Count Varley," Byleth called. His voice wasn't booming nor dripping with the disdain he'd fast developed for the man, but it did contain urgency. "We came here because of an urgent matter involving divine relics. Relics that are in danger of being stolen every second that time is wasted." His face contorted at the indirect insult he'd heaved his way. Byleth wouldn't say he was ashamed of it in the slightest. "It would be dearly appreciated if we could get a look at these relics so we can begin formulating a plan to move them. The execution of this plan and its success will bring you and your house all the glory you desire." Practically everyone in the room was watching him. His eyes never broke with Count Varley's, if they had then the effect would have been lost.
His words seemed to have put an end to his angry rants. Finally, there was a bit of silence in the room. At least until the door knob turned and a new person entered.
"Very well said. Lady Rhea did indeed send her best knights to return the goddess' lost property. Are you going to impede that with more of your antics, Grégoire?"
Byleth sized up the new arrival. Like the minister, the man's face was worn with age, perhaps more so. Still, his face and indeed his general presence possessed an inviting aura to it. Once black hair was turning gray at the corners, but not his well-trimmed beard. He first looked to Edelgard, giving her a bow of respect as befitting of a subject to his monarch. From her, he moved onto Bernadetta. Byleth saw the terror that had once seized up the girl loosen. That heightened his opinion of this newcomer.
"Helwig." Count Varley growled.
"He is right, as is Professor Eisner. The longer we wait, the more danger the relics are in of being stolen." As she spoke, she gave the imperial noble a pointed glare. In none too many words she was urging him to quit grandstanding and move on. Preferable before he said something that caused someone's self-restraint to come undone.
With such odds against him, the count finally relented. "V-V-Very well."
Taking that as his cue, the newcomer finally introduced himself. "Helwig von Fietz. It's an honor to have you here, Knights of Seiros. Now then, follow me."
I like this one more so than that so-called minister already.
So do I. It was incredibly easy to see how much disdain Sothis had for Count Varley. Oh, the irony of a minister of religion earning the scorn of the deity that they worshipped. It wasn't the first time, and Byleth was sure that he and the Goddess of Fódlan were going to run into more such people as they explored the continent.
From one room to another they went, the mood tense but not overbearing. Not even for Bernadetta, who continued to cling to Dorothea's side. The brunette didn't mind it at all, she seemed more than happy to be the archer's shield. She looked everyone but in her father's direction, not that he looked back at her even once. It was another telling piece about the relationship of the head of House Varley and his heir apparent.
For his part, Byleth paid little attention to the man himself. His spiritual companion on the other hand was doing her best to make his head spontaneously combust with her glaring. It was hard to tell if it was further agitating him or if he was just being his naturally jumpy self.
Sothis, Byleth found himself calling. Believe me, I can understand disliking the man, but I really don't want you trying to hijack my body to use it to admonish him. Do remember that I'm here on business, the Church's business. Your church's business.
Her cheeks puffed out in irritating. So I must hold my tongue while another fool prattles about in my name?
Fortunately, he seems to be counterbalanced by this Helwig fellow. The former mercenary replied. She disappeared from his vision, still maintaining that annoyed scowl. Byleth didn't blame her at all.
The double doors they arrived at were manned by armed guards, who nodded in confirmation as they approached. Helwig stepped forward and inserted a key into the lock, turning it and thus allowing the group entry. The act itself told Link that their precious cargo lay within, and he was right. His eyes immediately went to the wooden box that lay in the heart of the room. At seven feet in length and width, it was large enough to hold a couple of different things. What caught his attention though were the tags on each of the four sides-sealing tags. Even with them, Byleth could sense something radiating from the box. Something powerful.
"You put more sealing charms on it?" Count Varley sneered.
"You told me to be thorough in safeguarding them until the Knights of Seiros arrived." Helwig shot back in a mockingly casual voice. While his superior steamed, the black-haired priest moved to take off each seal. Once they were off, Byleth felt the wave of power hit him in full force. He felt like something was reaching out to him, scratching through his flesh to his organs.
As the lid was removed, Byleth's eyes widened at the box's contents.
"So…those are…Hero's…Relics." Byleth had grown up around weapons, developing a fascination with them at an early age. He learned that they came in all shapes, sizes, and forms. Some conventional and others not so much. Their origins varied as well. All these details excited him like a child before a shiny new toy. That awe was still there as he gazed upon the sword and spear that were to be transported back to Garreg Mach Monastery.
For divine weapons, they looked rather gruesome, being made out of goldish-yellow bones that looked as fresh as the day they were ripped out of their original owner. The weapons were undoubtedly primal, yet they possessed a certain splendor to them, to say nothing of the sheer power they radiated. Along with something else, a pulse that radiated from the sword and the spear; Byleth sensed it and was quietly surprised at how…lifelike it seemed. His blue eyes swiftly moved between the two weapons, half expecting them to suddenly begin to levitate out of their holding box.
Those weapons…they're…alive somehow. I can feel it from here. They have a pulse. The realization weighed on him like a necklace of stones. Sothis,
A pulse…a life pulse…I can…I…I… She was just as enthralled by the weapons as he was, perhaps more so. Mouth agape, she floated toward the weapons, even raising herself up so she could examine them from a better view. I-I can…sense it as well. From the both of them. They're…they're…I…I…created these? I-I…gifted these weapons to humanity? For the first time Byleth could see that memories were coming back to her, or at least they were on the verge of coming back to her. T-These…weapons…
While she continued to grasp at some faint returning memories, Byleth examined the weapons with an analytical gaze. Despite the power they radiated, their designs were…crude. The spear shaft was darken gray that extended up to the blade-which to his seasoned eyes looked more like a giant fang. Byleth was certain that it was a fang as he'd seen such weapons before, but what stood out to him was the item at the base of the blade. Resting in a carved-out slot at the base of the spear lay a stone sphere with an engraving on it. He immediately recognized it as a Crest. Hanneman's explanation of Crests and Relics came back to him, but they were overcame by his dream of the ancient past.
The crimson flashes that lit up the battlefield and the devastation that followed. They were all from weapons like this. This spear and the rapier beside it.
By its very nature, it was somewhat more elegant than the spear, yet also somewhat more terrifying. The basket hilt that wrapped around the hit were bones as well, seemingly finger bones. Even more disturbing, they seemingly wrapped around a stone akin to the one in the spear. He near immediately realized that those stones emblazoned with a Crest were the weapons' power sources. They were where he felt those powerful pulsations coming from.
Sothis reached down toward the rapier, her face one of continued bewilderment. These Crest Stones…this Crest Stone…
Noticing the far off tone of her voice as well as the gleam in her eyes, Byleth grew concerned. Sothis, he called out. So-
Simultaneous to Sothis' touching the sone, a crimson light spilled out. No, it was her touch that caused the stone-the Crest Stone-to react. Everyone in the room threw up their arms to shield their eyes from the flash. Byleth did so as well, yet he found himself stepping forward. He immediately knew that it wasn't his will moving his body, it was Sothis'. The implications of that weren't lost on him, but he knew that he had to reaffirm control of his body.
Sothis! Byleth yelled while putting all his might into regaining control of his body. He imagined a rope being pulled in Sothis' direction-so he tugged it back his way. It worked.
The red glow of the Crest Stone faded as Sothis pulled her hand away. She floated back to his side herself; he could have sworn that she had sweat running down her brow. Glancing down, he saw her right hand was actually trembling. I-I'm…I'm…sorry, Byleth. That was-
"What in the goddess' name was that! What were you doing! Were you trying to destroy the Relics?! Sully them with some kind of taint!"
In a heartbeat, Sothis' shell shock transformed into annoyance. She glared at Count Varley with unfiltered fury.
It's fine. For now, just sit back and watch. Get some rest if you have to. He immediately urged. "I'm sorry. I…I don't know what happened, or why."
"Incredible, simply incredible!" Linhardt's excitement was almost as shocking as the light show. His eyes, no, his whole face blazed with a fire that none had seen before. Personally, Byleth felt it was quite a sight to see. "Professor, is it possible that your Crest may have reacted to the Relics? Nothing like this has ever been seen before, partially on account of the fact that none since the Liberator King has wielded the Crest of Flames."
"What?" Shouted both Count Varley and Helwig.
"So much for keeping it a secret." Rhona mused.
"No use in complaining about it now." The blue-haired swordsman said. A mental sigh later and he faced the two Adrestian clergymen. "Yes, I do indeed possess the Crest of Flames. Maybe it…invoked some sort of reaction in the Relics." His gaze jumped to Linhardt, whose eyes still held an enthused fire in them; it made Byleth feel bad about snuffing it out. "Look, my Crest is of little consequence now. Our focus has to be on getting these weapons out of here. From the moment that seal came off, I could sense their power, and I'm sure that no one here wants that power falling into the wrong hands."
"Well spoken, Professor. If you wish to continue to gawk at them, you can come see them at the Monastery." Edelgard asserted. Her purple eyes met Byleth's blue orbs. "Professor, I'm assuming you have a plan to move them?"
"Somewhat. I know that trying to lave with them won't be easy. Someone will notice, and even if it's a short trip back to the Monastery we'll be under attack. Doubly so if we're moving at night."
"We're well into the afternoon. While we could make it back to the Monastery in record time, we probably won't beat the fall of night. This is spring, not summer, in which it'd be different." Rhona spoke.
"Yes, it would be. Ultimately though, we're going to work with what we've got."
"A-A-A-A-Are y-y-y-you talking a-a-a-about us st-s-staying the night here?" Bernadetta's squeak of terror was attention grabbing, and for all the wrong reasons. "P-P-Pl-Please tell me we're not staying. I-I'm perfectly fine traveling in the dark!"
"I'd say I'm happy to hear that, but I believe that such words will crumble the second you hear so much as a pebble rolling along the ground." Rather understandably, Bernadetta looked shocked, and then depressed. Hubert's words had struck home and left themselves embedded in her. "I for one am perfectly fine with spending the night if it means we can firmly secure the Relics."
"Haste is the harbinger of failure, and given what we're dealing with, that's best avoided. Besides, I believe in our briefing it was said we would be transporting more than just these two Relics, correct?" Ferdinand added.
"Right, Ferdinand. The request form we were given mentioned several other items that needed to be returned to the Church of Seiros. Amongst them some holy scriptures." Out of the corner of his eye he saw how Count Varley grimaced. I'm beginning to get the feeling that the request didn't come entirely from him. Or at least he doesn't want us taking all these items back to the Central Church. "Mr. Fietz, can you take us to see these other items? Also, if push comes to shove, can we be put up anywhere?"
"We took preparations in case your group ended having to spend the night." The clergyman confirmed. His eyes swerved to Count Varley. It almost seemed like he was daring him to say something contradictory, or add onto what he just said.
"Ahem, you can, if you choose to, stay at the Varley Manor. After all, I have already given permission for the Varley Archer Corp to aid you in anything you need. They are the finest archery corps in the entire empire."
"I knew several imperial regiments who would beg to different, but the Varley Archers are at least sufficient." As he had with the daughter, Hubert left barbed arrows embedded in the head of the Varley household. He bit his lip in frustration at the words he had no strength to refute. "Personally, I would prefer Varley Manor. I know it well, thus I can assure you that it will be secured for our stay there."
"W-W-What?! What do you mean you know my family manor well?!" Screeched the minister. "Gah! Never mind! I can see quite well that you're Albert's son, through and through."
Like a flash of lightning in motion, Byleth caught it. The mischief amusement Hubert felt at the chaos he'd stirred was broken by annoyance. Maybe it was just the tip of something greater, something darker. So, I've got two, no, three students with parental issues.
It seems that your initial analysis of these hatchlings was correct. Sothis sounded much less heated now. Byleth was somewhat happy to have her normal yet snappy self back. Do you plan on investigating?
One daddy issue at a time, Sothis. Bernadetta more than ever needs whatever focus I can give her. He could tell that staying in her family home was the absolute last thing that the purple-haired archer wanted. There was a very good chance she wouldn't be able to get to sleep, and that could prove a problem when they moved the valuables out. That thought intersected with the plethora of theories he had regarding Count Varley. Byleth looked between the man and Helwig, "Count Varley, while we appreciate the offer, we will take the lodgings provided by the ministry. We don't mean to intrude upon your home." From the side, he saw Bernadetta practically melt into a puddle of relief. He also saw Dorothea give an all too noticeable smile along with Caspar. Even Edelgard seemed more than a little happy at his decision. Last but not least, there was Rhona, who looked between the two imperial clergymen and nodded in agreement with his statement.
"Even so, I will have the Varley Archers stationed nearby. They are going to be a part of this transaction. And it will be a success. The-"
"Greatest success in the ministry's history. Here I was believing that was managing to get donations from House Glapsvid. Of course that only came after-"
"Helwig! Silence! I will not be made a fool of in front of our guests!" Count Varley yelled.
Too late for that. Byleth snipped. "Sorry if it feels like I'm intruding on leadership here. That's your role." He whispered to Rhona. While the two clergymen got into another of their little spats, it seemed he and his group had some freedom to themselves.
"It's no trouble. As I said, I wanted to see what you were capable of, and I haven't been disappointed. Besides, if you had said we were staying at the Varley Manor, I'd have overruled you." That brought a faint smile to his face, and it in turn got Rhona to smile as well. "I know some of the Varley Archers, they're trust worthy, but I believe we should still be on guard. Oh, and before we formulate a concrete plan, we wait for Enrico to return. When he comes back, he should have some useful information for us."
"If he does, it'll make things go a lot smoother. The sooner we can leave here, the better. That's what the general mood feels like."
"I can tell you're disappointed. You wanted to enjoy our time here a little bit, didn't you?"
"I did, but the mission comes first. Those weapons," His eyes moved back to the box, which had thankfully been closed up. Still without the seals Byleth could still sense the power from them. "Getting them into safer hands comes first. I'd rather not go off on personal sight seeing only to have buildings being blown away and citizens dying in the dozens."
Rhona's face became sympathetic as she immediately pinpointed the undertone of his words. "You've experienced such a thing before, haven't you?"
His voice carried its stoic tone, yet a gleam of emotion was evident in his eyes. "Yes, I have, and it's not going to happen again."
It was a shame that such words were spoken of in a whisper. They would have been quite reassuring to several, while at the same time being something of a shock to just as many, if not more.
Quite a lot of talking this chapter, huh? Yet again, I started out with a general layout for this chapter and as I wrote things sort of took on a life of their own. Once they did, I found this chapter somewhat easier to write.
The first section gave me some trouble since I wanted Byleth to stop by and check in on Jeralt. As I was thinking over what else I could do I realized that would be a perfect time to have Byleth and Seteth have their C-Support conversation, and expand on it a little more. Without the restraints of being a self-insert I was able to use it as a way to show tidbits of Byleth's past and character. That's when I came to another roadblock in wondering how young should Byleth be when he fought his first battle. Throughout the writing I'll admit that I was using Guts' childhood from Berserk and even the snippets of Heiei's past from Yu Yu Hakusho. Essentially, I wanted to establish the fact that Byleth's been surrounded by violence and warfare for most of his life.
Let me just get this out, I am not going to portray Jeralt as some horrible parent. That said, it will be pointed out by several characters there were things he could have done better on. He's kept a lot of secrets, something shared with several dozen other characters in the story, some of them warranted and others maybe not so much. That's not going to be the topic of every conversation he'll have with other characters, but it will come up. Expect it to go hand-in-hand with him opening up.
I'll also say that this will hopefully be the last time Byleth lets Hubert be the one to pull Bernadetta out of her room. I'm sorry, I just couldn't stop myself since the scenario has just been stuck in my head for a while. I mean, it fits both of their characters, doesn't it? As for what Hubert did while in her room, I'll leave that to your imaginations, readers.
I can't say enough how good it felt writing Rhea and Gilah's talk by Sitri's grave. The former not having any supports besides Byleth (on top of being nonplayable) was always one of the things that gnawed at me, especially since Rhea does want to be able to converse with other people. Being able to start those interactions over Sitri seemed like a good idea that I'm proud of. I did some brief back and forth over how much I wanted Gilah to give away while talking to Rhea, but it seemed like a good start to future talks between Byleth and Rhea herself. I've got plenty more talks planned between her and Gilah, this was after all just their C-Support. There's plenty more to go, and Rhea will be having many, many more conversations with other characters.
So, the Black Eagles have officially met Count Varley…and it went about as well as you all probably expected. Byleth never really got to meet the man in-game, a privilege that I was unfortunately forced to rob him of in this story. Same with Sothis. It was always my intent for Byleth's first encounter with a Hero's Relic to trigger a reaction in Sothis. A part of me wanted to hold off on it, but as I wrote out this chapter, I realized now was the time. Is she going to start getting piece of her memory? Very, very likely, but I plan on keeping some surprises in store.
I won't leave you all to wait a while for the next chapter as it'll hopefully be up in about two weeks or so. This chapter wasn't able to include all the things I wanted it to, but it did lay the groundwork for the second part. I'll see you all then, Let me know what you thought of this chapter and keep safe!
