Disclaimer: You know, going over the scenes from 3H while I was writing the last chapter, I totally spaced that Manuela was actually stabbed by Jeritza. They don't touch on it in the discovery scene (but gets mentioned later on), so it totally slipped my mind. Whoops. My b.


Hanneman and Edelgard crawled up the stairwell to the second floor of monastery. They took each step one at a time, the professor carrying most of Manuela's weight while Edelgard continued to hold her head in place over each bump in their steps.

"Do you have a firm hold over her head, child?" Hanneman wheezed, sweat dripping from his forehead.

"Yes, Professor Hanneman," Edelgard replied, her brow creasing as she watched the teacher struggle with the weight. "Are you sure you do not wish to change places? You must be getting tired by now."

"That's quite alright," Hanneman chuckled, rubbing the sweat off on his shoulder. "I may be old, but even I can do this much for my fellow colleague."

The older man's determination to carry Manuela all the way to the infirmary was impressive. As much as the two professors may bicker, she could tell how much Hanneman truly cared for her. It was rather sweet, as well as a bit sad knowing Manuela would probably never know how far he went for her lengths.

Manuela stirred in their arms, a soft groan escaping her lips.

Edelgard frowned, a gloved thumb lightly brushing across the professor's cheek. Her gaze moved to the dried blood that stained her abdomen.

The guilt that ate at her was overwhelming; Manuela's blood was on her hands, both literally and figuratively. She was an innocent bystander in all of this; another victim to the world Edelgard aspired to create. Manuela was just doing what she thought was right, so did doing the right thing truly earn her a dagger in her side? Was assaulting her necessary?

Edelgard wanted to change this world. To burn it down and rebuild it, brick by brick. To reforge it. She was not naïve; she was well aware her actions would come at a heavy price. Many lives would be lost in the process. The blood that would stain her hands could never be washed away. The bridges she would burn could never be rebuilt. It was regrettable, but it would not deter her from her path.

Yet, she never wanted those uninvolved to have to suffer or become casualties of war because of her... It was not people like Manuela's fault that this world was broken and outdated. Why should they have to shed their blood in place of those responsible?

I will not forgive this, Arundel. Mark my words.

When all was said and done, they would pay as well. The blood they spilled would only be a puddle in comparison to the blood Edelgard would claim from their twisted bodies.

"Just one more step," Hanneman grunted as they cleared the final hurdle. "We must hurry to the-"

"Professor Hanneman, what is the meaning of this?!"

A distraught Seteth jumped on them the minute the two cleared the stairs, with Rhea close behind.

"Professor Manuela?!" the archbishop's eyes bulged at the sight of the wounded woman in their arms. The surprise on her face quickly turned into a look of pure fury as she turned to Edelgard. "Who did this?!"

"The professor needs medical attention first," Edelgard stated calmly. "Then I will tell you all that I know."

It was always a test of her resolve to keep herself in check around the head of the church.

"O-of course. Forgive me." Rhea shook her head, looking ashamed that her emotions had gotten the better of her. "Knights! Please take Manuela to the infirmary. I will be along momentarily to care for her myself."

Two Church knights materialized out of thin air, accepting the professor's weight before rushing off down the hall and to the infirmary.

"Now-"

Rhea turned back to Edelgard and Hanneman, the dangerous gleam in her eyes returning.

"Who put her in this state?"

"And was… Was Flayn with her?"

"We found the professor in Jeritza's quarters," Edelgard answered, then looked to Seteth. "Possibly. It's too coincidental for your sister to go missing and Professor Manuela to be assaulted in the same day. I theorize that the professor was going to question Jeritza on the matter before she was… attacked."

"Jeritza?" Seteth gasped. "He did this?!"

"I can hardly believe it myself." Hanneman frowned. "To think a fellow instructor could bring such harm… It's unforgivable!"

"Where is he now?" Rhea questioned, her green eyes never leaving hers. "And where is Byleth and the rest of your class?"

The sound of her professor's name coming from the archbishop's lips left a bad taste in her mouth. Who was she to address him so casually?

"When I last left them, they were still investigating matters. However, knowing my teacher, I am sure he is hot on the trail."

"Yes… I am sure he is," Rhea sighed in relief, a brief smile flashing across her features.

"Lady Rhea, we must send a battalion of knights to Jeritza's quarters immediately!" Seteth insisted. "We cannot let that fiend slip through our fingers."

Edelgard was quick to open her mouth to protest, but Rhea beat her to it.

"That won't be necessary, Seteth. I trust this matter to the professor's capable hands- as should you."

"I…"

The turmoil in his eyes was clear as day.

"…Very well," Seteth sighed, then looked to her. "Edelgard, you should hurry and return to your professor. I am sure he requires your assistance more than we do."

"Of course."

The fate of Byleth and her classmates had never strayed too far from her mind on their way here, so she was more than eager to leave their presence and reunite with her teacher.

"I will take my leave," Edelgard said, placing an arm to her chest as she stooped to a bow.

She found the act of lowering her head to these two to be repulsive, but it must be done it if she wanted to keep up appearances.

"May the goddess watch over you all."

Edelgard turned back to see the archbishop with her hands clasped together in prayer.

She narrowed her eyes at the sight, her hands clenching into fists.

The goddess had never watched over her before, why would she start now?

Edelgard scoffed under her breath as she left down the stairwell.

What a worthless phrase that was.


The students' cries for his help filled his very being. They called so desperately for his guidance, but little did they know, he had none to give.

"Be quiet!" Byleth barked. The chorus of pleas all stopped abruptly at his demand.

As much as he wanted to assist them, he had to focus. If he lost himself now, they were all doomed.

Byleth scanned the abyss, his eyes searching for any small trace of movement; his ears straining for even the softest sound.

He could hear the slight scraping of metal being dragged against the floor.

There!

Byleth snapped his head towards the noise. A pair of menacing red orbs were suspended in the darkness, fixed onto him.

He drew his sword in one fluid motion. The glow of the Sword of the Creator illuminated the area around him, but even still, only a few inches were revealed to him.

Byleth cocked his arm back as he prepared to strike, only to stop when his eyes latched onto a small foot protruding into the ring of light that surrounded him. It could have been Lysithea's. It could have been Bernie's. He couldn't tell.

His arm slowly lowered. As long as he couldn't survey his surroundings, he couldn't attack. The Sword of the Creator's power was great, but it was far too unwieldy. He'd sooner take his own life than allow the chance that he might nick one of his students in the crossfire.

The mocking sound of the Death Knight's slow laughter echoed in the dark as his red eyes disappeared from view.

Byleth sheathed his sword, and with it, the only source of light he had vanished.

If I attack, I risk the chance of hitting one of the students. If I use my sword as a light source, I lead the Death Knight right to me. If I have the students use magic to create light, I lead him to them. If we don't move, we're sitting ducks. If we do move, we'll draw attention to ourselves.

So many different possibilities and scenarios ran through Byleth's head. They were endless, but because they were endless, he was left with nothing.

If he can sense us in this darkness, then trying to conceal our presence is pointless. If he can't, then doing anything that might alert him to our presence would be death.

Each possibility was riskier than the last.

If I can't see my students, I can't protect them… And rewinding time will solve nothing if I don't know how to prevent their deaths. I…

What… what do I do?

"Byleth!"

Sothis's shrill voice nearly knocked him over.

"If you wish to make it out of here, you must compose yourself and act!" Sothis chastised him, her voice softening as she continued. "You must pull through. Your children still need you."

Byleth took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. She was right. If he did nothing, they all would die.

He drew his weapon. The Sword of the Creator pulsated in his grip.

"Everyone!" Byleth called out. "Move carefully towards my light."

The sound of shuffling feet filled the air.

…Along with the clanking of armor.

"Mages, create a source of light."

One by one, little balls of flame came to life in the hands of his students. He could spot the faces of Linhardt, Hubert, Lysithea bob up and down as they moved closer to him. Linhardt looked completely done with this situation, but Hubert seemed to be handling it well. To her credit, Lyisthea was as well, but he knew this must be rather terrifying for her.

A lump formed in his throat as he realized there was one face missing from the crowd.

"Dorothea?!" Byleth shouted. "Where are you?!"

"S-Sorry, Professor! I'm right here!"

A few feet away, a flame illuminated her face. The relief that washed over him at seeing her relatively unharmed was insurmountable.

It vanished entirely at the sight of the Death Knight's form towering directly behind her, his scythe falling towards her neck.

"Dorothea!"

In an instant, Byleth jumped forwards toward the unsuspecting songstress.

With his free hand he pushed her out of the way.

With his other, he raised his sword.

The clash of metal reverberated through the darkness as the scythe crashed into his blade.

Byleth grunted as he felt his arm buckle underneath the strength of the knight. With only one hand, there was no chance he could-

The Death Knight growled as a sphere of purple magic crashed into his shoulder, leaving a scorched mark in its wake.

The knight retreated into the darkness.

There was the light tapping of footsteps as his unexpected savior approached.

"Are you two unharmed?" Hubert asked.

"Yes," Byleth answered, looking to the frightened face of Dorothea behind him. "Are you, though?"

"I-I am fine," she quavered her wide eyes blinking rapidly. "T-thank you, Professor."

"Don't thank me. Hubert saved us both."

"Thank you, Hubie. I'll buy you dinner later to make up for it."

Hubert scoffed. Byleth couldn't see him clearly, but he was sure he rolled his eyes at the offer.

"We are at a disadvantage," Hubert said, ignoring her. "What are your orders, Professor?"

"It's dangerous to retreat…" Byleth mumbled, his eyes trying to spot the Death Knight. "We could wind up tripping over one of the bodies or walk right into him… But we have no other choice. We have to get Flayn and that other student out of here as soon as possible."

"I agree."

"Everyone!" Byleth turned to address the class in the dark. "I want you to begin making your way slowly toward the exit."

There were a few, quiet "okay's," followed by the sound of footsteps as they all began to move.

"Stay close," Byleth told the two students beside him as he began to make his own retreat.

He knew the Death Knight still lurked in the shadows, but at the moment, he could not see the glowing red of his eyes nor could he hear the sound of him moving.

Byleth spotted a trembling Bernadetta shuffle past him, her arms balled to her chest and her head on a swivel. He could hear the light sounds of her whimpering over the noise of her feet.

She wasn't looking at all at where she was going.

"Bernadetta, watch your-"

The terrified girl shrieked as her body bumped into something sturdy, knocking her onto her rear.

Byleth's breath caught in his throat.

The Death Knight loomed over her; his helmet angled down towards her. His piercing red eyes bored holes into her own.

"Bernadetta!"

She let loose a scream as the Death Knight's scythe came down.

Byleth flew forwards, putting himself in between the scythe and his student.

He raised his sword to block the strike, moving his left hand beneath the flat of the blade for support.

Sparks flew as the two weapons collided once more. The Sword of the Creator had stopped the scythe from falling, but only by slamming into the metal shaft. The sharp edge of the weapon was still free.

He winced as the tip of the scythe dug into his shoulder as the knight pushed down on him. Its point wiggled back and forth in his flesh as the two struggled for the advantage, opening the hole wider. The wound was shallow, but he could feel the warm sensation of blood trickling down his chest.

This time, it was Petra that came to his aid.

Her sword plunged towards his exposed back. The Death Knight's armor proved too thick to puncture it fully, but the attack knocked him off balance, allowing Byleth to retaliate with one of his own.

Byleth pushed the Death Knight off him, rearing his arms back before thrusting forward.

He was rewarded with the wet sound of piecing flesh as the Hero's Relic penetrated his armor. It was impossible to tell how far the blade had embedded itself, but due to the crimson light that surrounded it, Byleth could see that at least a few inches of the sword had disappeared into the Death Knight's body.

Any normal human might have howled in pain. The Death Knight was no normal human, however.

Instead, a chilling laugh oozed from his helmet.

Byleth's eyes widened as a black gauntlet wrapped around the glowing sword, preventing him from wrenching it free.

The Death Knight's eyes inched closer as he pulled himself along the length of the sword.

"Now you will die together…"

The reaper's breath drifted to Byleth's nose; it reeked of blood.

"How joyous…"

The Death Knight lifted his scythe.

"Professor!"

He could hear Petra's blade cleave through the air.

The Death Knight simply cackled as the sword bounced off his armor once more.

But, as small as it was, it was an opening for Byleth to strike.

Letting his left hand drop from his sword, he began to channel as much magic as he could into his palm as he swung it towards his foe. A sizeable ball of fire came to life midflight.

Byleth smashed his hand into the knight's skull. Flames washed over the helmet, spilling out in each direction.

He winced as he felt the flames burn his hand and tickle at his cheek, but it was a small price to pay for a decisive blow.

The reaper roared in pain, falling off of the Sword of the Creator as he stumbled to the side.

Finally, Byleth could take the offensive.

Jumping into the air, he brought down his sword in a two-handed swing.

The Death Knight barely had the opportunity to raise his own weapon to block the strike.

Byleth landed on his feet, twisting his arms over his head to attack the knight's injured side.

Even with his gaping wound, the Death Knight was still quicker. He deflected the blade with relative ease.

The mercenary's ensuing onslaught was relentless; it didn't matter that he could hardly see a foot in front of him. His honed instincts had taken the reins. Blow after blow fell upon the knight. Most of them were parried, but a few of them had struck true.

For the first time in their two encounters, Byleth finally had the upper hand…

Or so he thought.

Byleth grunted as the back of the reaper's metal gauntlet struck him across the face.

He staggered backwards, a hand instinctively moving to his soon-to-be black eye.

His good eye widened as he watched the black sickle fall towards his neck.

Byleth was already preparing himself to use an instance of Divine Pulse when a commanding voice rang out in the darkness.

"Halt!"

Light flooded the chamber.


Edelgard materialized between the Death Knight and her professor, her right hand catching the edge of the scythe before it could connect. She could feel the sting of the blade cut a gash into her flesh but ignored it.

"You're having a bit too much fun," she growled, tossing aside the weapon effortlessly.

The Death Knight didn't move an inch. His red eyes stared into hers, completely unfazed.

"You are getting in the way of my game…" Came the hissed reply.

"Hmph. You'll have more opportunities to play soon. Your work here is done."

The Flame Emperor's tone was final. She didn't want to have to do away with one of her… sharper tools, but if he continued his insubordination, she had no qualms in striking him down. The Death Knight had given her a bit too much trouble as of late. There was no point in keeping a pet if it continued to disobey its master.

The Death Knight was quiet. The only sounds that escaped his skull shaped helmet was the raspy sound of his labored breath.

"Understood." The knight straightened his posture. "I will go…"

Glimmering, purple light rained down on the Death Knight. As the light evaporated to the ceiling above, the knight disappeared with it.

Edelgard let out a sigh of relief. That was one issue dealt with. She had an inkling of an idea as to what her 'uncle' might have been up to using the Death Knight to capture Flayn, as well as releasing… her onto the world, but as always, their schemes remained cloaked in darkness.

All that remained was…

The Flame Emperor slowly turned to face the man behind her. He was battered and bleeding, but still firmly on his feet. There was black grime on his face, as well as what appeared to be the forming of a black eye on his right side.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the damp, red splotch on the right side of his collarbone. The burned skin on his hand…

The sight of her beloved professor once again sporting more than one injury concerned her, but she had to regretfully push the feeling aside. Right now, she wasn't Edelgard. And as much as the thought sickened her, she wasn't his student, either.

She was the Flame Emperor.

"Who are you?" Byleth asked, his voice betraying no emotion.

His familiar blue eyes peered into her very depths. At this moment, she was very thankful for the helm she was wearing, as well as the technology that modulated the pitch of her voice.

The Flame Emperor turned her head slightly, noticing that Hubert was watching her intently as well.

"I am the Flame Emperor," she replied. She lifted her hand, closing it into a fist. A few droplets of blood dripped to the ground, splattering on the floor below. "It is I who will reforge the world."

Byleth's eyebrows twitched at the familiar wording.

"We will cross paths again."

With those final parting words, the shimmering, purple light cascaded down on her.

The last image she saw was that of her teacher's piercing eyes resting on his blank face.


When Edeglard returned to the land of the living, she found herself in the empty home adjacent to Jeritza's. It was dangerous to reappear in such an open spot, but there was nothing for it. This particular house had been vacant since the start of the semester, and if Edelgard was to make a quick return to Byleth and her class, she couldn't afford to go to her room first. If she took too long, the professor would no doubt take notice of her absence. It'd draw too much unnecessary attention to herself. For now, she had to remain hidden.

I must hurry.

She began to strip the Flame Emperor's armor off, starting with her helmet then moving to her chest piece. Each piece fell to the floor below with a thud.

Kneeling on the wooden floor, she lifted one of the floorboards. Beneath it was a sizeable, dug out hole. Large enough to fit every piece of her armor and then some.

Edelgard had a tendency to be loose lipped when it came to her schemes, but she was no fool. She had long prepared for an occurrence such as this one. The future emperor needed to always be one step ahead. Being unprepared meant a hasty execution.

She stashed the suit of armor beneath the board, then dropped it back into place. When night fell, she would come to retrieve it. It might require more usage of Arundel's impossible teleportation technology, but for now, this hiding spot should be sufficient.

Edelgard dusted her hands off on her pants as she stood. Pain flared in her hand. She looked down at it, only now noticing the growing red stain on her white glove and the torn fabric revealing the gash underneath.

She cursed under her breath and ripped off the glove. A small flame erupted from her hand, turning the cloth into ashes.

Taking off her other glove, she placed her hand atop the wound. White light basked the gash in its glow as the torn flesh slowly began to mend.

"That was too close," Edelgard sighed, reaching into her uniform to pull out a spare glove. She always carried an extra pair on her person.

Content that her uniform wouldn't give her away, she strode to the door and slowly opened it.

Poking out a head, she looked around. The street that led through the area was empty, and the stable nearby looked to be deserted.

Edelgard quickly stepped through the door, then closed it behind her.

She then made her way to the next building over, her eyes darting back and forth, scrying for anyone that might have witnessed her.

Opening the door to Jeritza's quarters, she walked inside-

Only to find Byleth and the rest of the class already gathered. Ferdinand carried an unconscious Flayn in his arms, while Caspar had her draped over his shoulder. Both boys looked worse for wear. In fact, many of the Eagles looked to have a wide array of minor injuries. The only ones that looked relatively unharmed were Hubert, Felix, and Lysithea.

It pained her heart to see them like this. The wounds may have been minor, but they never should have been there to begin with.

Meanwhile, her professor looked to be interrogating Hubert.

"Surely she should be back by now," Byleth insisted, his eyes narrowing. "Where is she, Hubert?"

To her comrade's credit, he appeared completely indifferent to the teacher's line of questioning.

But Edelgard could see him visibly deflate as his eyes landed on hers.

"Why don't you ask her yourself, if you're so curious."

Byleth glanced over at her, his expression softening.

"Where were you?"

Although, the tone of his voice was still coarse and dripping with suspicion.

"With Professor Manuela," Edelgard replied calmly. "It had taken longer than I had hoped to answer Seteth and the archbishop's numerous questions."

She lied as easily as she breathed.

The act disgusted her.

Byleth exhaled in relief, finally allowing himself to untense.

"That… That makes sense."

Edelgard nodded, her gaze drifting to Flayn.

"Thank goodness you were able to find Flayn. Is she alright?"

She made a point of not asking about the other one.

"They're both pale, and their pulses are slow," Linhardt answered. "Still, I don't believe their lives are in danger."

"That is a relief." Edelgard smiled.

"Professor, take note!" Ferdinand grinned triumphantly, his chin tilting upwards. "That I, Ferdinand von Aegir, was present for the most important part of the mission, while Edelgard was not! I believe some extra credit is in order, no?"

Byleth frowned, tilting his head to the side.

"Is now really the time to be boasting while you carry an injured girl in your arms, Ferdinand?" Edelgard sighed.

I suppose I should be thankful he can still find the will to act as usual.

"Oh." Ferdinand pursed his lips, his gaze moving Flayn. "R-right."

"We will take these two to the infirmary, Professor," Hubert said, moving to take Flayn from the wounded Ferdinand. "Please inform-"

Byleth slapped his hand away.

"I would ask that you never do that again." Hubert glared dangerously at their teacher.

"We're all going to the infirmary," Byleth corrected, the tone of his voice leaving very little room for objections. "I will carry Flayn. Don't think that I didn't see an arrow graze your left leg, Hubert."

Hubert's eyes widened.

Edelgard raised an eyebrow and followed Byleth's line of sight.

Sure enough, despite how hard Hubert may try to hide it, he was clearly favoring his right side. Even Edelgard had missed that.

Byleth accepted the unconscious Flayn from Ferdinand's arms. It was slight, but Edelgard noted the very subtle wince as Flayn's weight pulled uncomfortably at his own injury. His burned hand trembled as it tightened its grip on her leg.

"Thank you, Professor," Linhardt yawned, stretching his arms over his head. "I'm too tired to deal with healing everyone on my own."

"It's more that you barely have the energy left to do so." Byleth shook his head, adjusting Flayn's weight. "With two back-to-back missions, I'm surprised you're still standing. You've done well, Linhardt."

The green-haired mage blinked, clearly taken back by the professor's sudden praise.

"I, er, thank you…"

"I was simply stating fact," Byleth stated. "Now, come along, everyone. Class trip to the infirmary. Edelgard, do you mind if I put you back on head duty?"

"Of course not, my teacher."

Edelgard moved to gingerly support Flayn's limp neck.

"What do you want us to do, Professor?" Lysithea asked as she opened the door for him.

Byleth's gaze moved to Felix, who simply shrugged in response.

"Come with us. There's something I want to discuss with you two."

Lysithea looked as if she wanted to question him on that, but she relented with a nod and followed Byleth and Edelgard as they began to walk carefully down the front steps.

The rest of the Eagles followed closely behind as they made their way towards the center of the academy. They began to pass more and more students and faculty as they made their way further inward. Their eyes were wide at the sight of the battered class carrying two unconscious girls. Whispers and murmurs filled the air as they passed by.

Edelgard's head turned to Byleth as they walked. Despite his wounds, he had a firm hold on Flayn, his head held high as his eyes looked out to the stone-road in front of them.

The professor must have been lost in thought given the distant look in his cerulean eyes.

"Did you ever discover the culprit?" Edelgard probed. "Was Jeritza truly behind this?"

She of course already knew that answer.

"Hard to say," he mumbled. "If Jeritza is the Death Knight, then yes. I believe that's a safe assumption at this point."

"To think one of the church's staff was behind this… It's hard to fathom."

"He wasn't alone." Byleth shook his head. "Someone who called themselves the 'Flame Emperor' was also there."

"'Flame Emperor,'" she repeated the name to herself softly. "What a curious title."

"Indeed. It's too soon to say if he was directly involved, or simply an ally."

"Is there a difference?" Edelgard asked.

"Yes."

Edelgard had to resist the urge to smile as she turned her head back out in front of her. The professor would never know how relieving his words truly were.

"Well, whatever the circumstances, I'm glad Flayn is safe. That's all that matters. Right, Professor?"

She turned back to Byleth. Her weak heart fluttered at the sight of the genuine smile that had spread across his features.

"Heh, you look happy." Edelgard felt a grin of her own form. "It's rare to see you smile like that."

"Is it?" Byleth glanced at her, his expression faltering. "I feel as though I smile a fair bit when we're together."

Byleth frowned as if a thought had just occurred to him.

"Oh. Hmm," he hummed to himself.

"Is something wrong, Teacher?"

Edelgard thought that if she asked him a question it might prevent her mind from wandering.

There was a pregnant pause before Byleth answered.

"…No. I was just recalling something my father had said to me."

She tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. Well, that was curious.

"Anyways." Byleth shook the thoughts from his head. "While it was regrettable we were not able to apprehend the two, I am simply relieved that Flayn is safe. That we all are safe. We've had a busy week."

"As am I."

First Miklan, now this. It would probably sound unusual coming from her, but she could only hope they would be given a brief reprieve before Rhea assigned them another mission. Ideally they'd have the rest of the month off in preparation for the approaching Battle of the Eagle and Lion, but Edelgard realized that was probably too much to hope for.

Ah, but how lovely it would be if she had but one day where she could just laze around without the burdens of her duty pushing down on her.

Even someone such as herself wished for the opportunity to create fond memories such as that. Far too many of them were that of heartache, suffering in the dark pit that had been her home for far too long. Too many times would she close her eyes and hear the sounds of her siblings crying for their parents. Too many times would she close her eyes and still smell the stench of blood.

While she wouldn't dare try to replace those bad thoughts with happier ones, it would be nice if she could water them down, so to speak.

What she wouldn't give to close her eyes and remember the sound of Byleth's voice… The smell of tea as its scent wafted to her nose… The image of her smiling classmates as they greeted her in the mornings…

How she longed for memories she could cherish before…

Before…

Edelgard had to stop herself from balling her occupied hands into fists. As these things often went, the sad girl's pleas lived only for a breath before they faded.

Why must I think of these things knowing full well where this road takes me? Perhaps Hubert was right. Maybe I really am setting myself up for heartbreak.

"Edelgard."

The princess turned to her professor. His brows were knitted in concern as he watched her. He was getting quite adept at reading her moods.

She already knew the question he'd ask her next.

"Is everything alright?"

Edelgard gave her usual automatic reply.

"Of course, Professor. Let's hurry to the infirmary."


"Flayn! My dear Flayn!"

Seteth bounded down the hallway, his hands instinctively moving to cradle her pale face.

Byleth smiled as he watched him caress Flayn's cheek with one hand while the other pushed the green hair out of her eyes. It was rather touching. For a brief moment, Byleth felt somewhat envious watching the two. The feeling passed, however.

"Is-Is she okay?" Seteth blubbered, his gaze never leaving his sister.

"She's weak, but she should be fine," Byleth replied. "Nothing that can't be undone."

"Thank you, Prof-"

Seteth raised his head. This may have been the first time he had ever seen Seteth smile so warmly in his general direction.

"Thank you, Byleth. Words cannot express how grateful I am."

"Don't thank me." He shook his head. "The students did all the work."

Seteth took a step away from his sister, pressing his arm to his chest as he bowed to the class behind him.

"Thank you all. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you."

Byleth raised his arms and held out the young girl.

"Here. You should take her."

Seteth nodded, accepting Flayn into his own arms. Byleth grunted as the weight left him. Pain flared up and down his right side, emanating from where the Death Knight's scythe had burrowed into his flesh. It was far from the worst injury the mercenary had ever received, but it still smarted like hell.

He pushed a hand against it, exhaling as the pain subsided somewhat. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about the burns until someone healed it.

The archbishop appeared behind Seteth, her hand resting on his shoulder.

"Seteth, take her to the infirmary. I'll be along shortly to treat her."

Her second-in-command nodded, mumbling a quick "thank you" as he barreled down the hallway towards the room Rhea had just come from.

Rhea's eyes widened as they fell on the red-haired student.

"Monica?"

"You know her?" Byleth glanced at the girl.

"Yes…" She mumbled, her brow creasing. "She was a former student that went missing last year."

Last year?

Had Jeritza truly been holding a student captive in that labyrinth for the better part of a year? That was… concerning. Perhaps Byleth held Garegg Mach's security in too high of regards.

"Did you find her with Flayn?" Rhea asked, looking perplexed.

"We did."

Rhea closed her eyes, appearing even more confused.

"Caspar, if you would."

Caspar straightened his posture as she addressed him.

"I'm on it, Lady Rhea!"

The young knight grunted as he adjusted Monica's weight on his shoulder, then bumbled down the hallway towards the infirmary. It was a good thing that Seteth had already left; he probably would have lectured Caspar on his lack of etiquette.

"I admit, I had my doubts when you said the matter would be resolved by the day's end." Rhea smiled as she turned to face him. "But, once again, you continue to surpass even my greatest expectations."

Her expression soured as she noticed the red on his armor and his swollen, blistered hand.

"You're hurt," she muttered, her hands instinctively moving towards his body.

Byleth felt Edelgard stiffen beside him.

"I am fine." He flinched as she gently removed his hand to get a closer look at his shoulder. Her touch was cold. "You should tend to Flayn and this 'Monica' first, and then my students."

Rhea's eyes moved to the class behind him. It was rare to see her usual serene expression morph into one of sorrow.

Even still, the archbishop hesitated.

"I can take care of the professor." Edelgard butted in.

"See? She can take care of me." Byleth motioned to his pupil. "It'll make for a nice, impromptu lesson in healing magic."

Rhea frowned. She didn't look pleased with the outcome, but she relented and stepped away.

"Of course." She nodded.

The expression faded as Rhea adopted her usual gentle smile. She reached out a hand and wiped the black soot from his cheek with her thumb.

He remained still, his eyes moving to the hand touching his face. It was an unfamiliar feeling. No one had ever touched him so delicately before. It was as if she were handling a small child rather than a trained mercenary.

"Just make sure to speak with me before you go," she said before retracting her hand and heading towards the infirmary.

Byleth frowned. His good hand grazed the spot she had just caressed with a thumb.

"Everyone, follow after her," Byleth spoke without turning his head, his eyes still fixed on the back of the archbishop. "Felix, Lysithea, stay put."

The Eagles slowly trickled past him, many of them limping as they went.

Edelgard didn't move from her position by her teacher's side. Her head was slightly turned in the direction that Rhea had gone in. She was scowling as she watched the head of the church disappear into the room.

"What is it, mercenary?" Felix scoffed from somewhere behind him. "I'm growing impatient."

There was a stomping sound, followed by a startled yelp from Felix. An unexpected sound coming from him.

If Byleth were to hazard a guess, he'd assume that Lysithea most likely stomped on his foot.

"Would it kill you to be polite once and a while?" Lysithea grumbled. "You're speaking to a superior, you know."

"Hmph."

Byleth shook his head, then turned to face the two students.

"You both did excellent work today. I'll put in a good word with your professors."

Lysithea grinned triumphantly, while Felix simply shrugged.

"I'm also going to see if I can't have you two transfer to my class on a permanent basis."

The duo grew quiet as his words settled in. Lysithea looked particularly astonished by this reveal. Meanwhile, the only indication that Felix was even slightly shocked was the slight widening of his eyes.

However, that proved enough to break Edelgard from her stupor.

"My teacher?"

"Would you be alright with that, Edelgard?" Byleth smirked, meeting her gaze.

"O-Of course," she stammered, shaking her head. "I would always welcome talented individuals into my class. I was just caught off guard, is all."

"Good." The teacher smirked then turned back to the two. "So?"

"I-I'm not sure…" Lysithea mumbled, her eyes blinking rapidly. "There's a lot to consider…"

"You don't have to convince me." Felix grinned. "I was able to witness your skill firsthand today; that was more than enough. Just don't make me regret becoming an Eagle."

"I won't." Byleth nodded and looked to Lysithea. "Were you to join my class, I'd be able to tutor you on a more consistent basis. Plus, Edelgard would be your house leader. I think you'll find you have much in common with her."

"Professor…" Edelgard muttered in a disapproving tone.

"What does that have to do with anything?!" Lysithea demanded, her eyes lingering on Edelgard's white hair.

"You both have somewhat similar personalities, for one," Byleth articulated himself calmly in the face of two short-fused students. "Both of you are rather studious and receive high marks. And you both have a love for sweets."

Lysithea's eyebrows raised as she turned to Edelgard.

"You do?" she asked breathlessly.

"Well, yes." Edelgard frowned and shot Byleth a sidelong glare. "I don't see how that information is pertinent, however."

Byleth shrugged. Any information was important when it came to the art of negotiations.

"Truth be told, I find the thought of joining your class to be quite agreeable…" Lysithea mumbled, her pink eyes darting to Edelgard. "And with my stupendous grades, it'd make sense for you to pursue me."

"That's it exactly." Byleth smiled.

To be more precise, that was about half of it. Lysithea was a better student than most, but part of Byleth's rationale for her to join the Eagles was purely personal.

"I accept these terms." Lysithea beamed and reached out for a handshake. "Please provide me with only the most challenging of assignments, Professor."

Byleth squeezed her hand and shook it.

"Deal."

"If we're done with the negotiations," Edelgard sighed, rubbing her brow. "Perhaps we should care for your wounds?"

"Oh."

Byleth released his hold on her hand and looked down at his body. He had nearly forgotten.

"Yes."

He looked up to address the former Lion and Deer.

"You two are dismissed for the day. I'll iron out the details with your professors later."

Felix nodded and left. The swordsman was abrupt as ever.

Lysithea smiled at Byleth, glancing at Edelgard once before turning to follow after him.

Once the two were out of sight, the princess opened her mouth to speak.

"I did not expect that from you, my teacher."

"They're good," Byleth remarked absently. "They'll be fine additions to the Eagles."

"Yes, I agree." Edelgard nodded.

Her hand latched onto his good shoulder, steering him towards the infirmary.

"Now, come along. Let's get you treated before you fall ill."

"I don't get sick." Byleth shook his head but let Edelgard lead him regardless.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," she scoffed in reply, looking more amused than annoyed.

The two made their way to the infirmary. Byleth's pace was slow, forcing Edelgard to match it.

Truthfully, he was fairly tired by this point. His arms felt like lead, while his legs had the consistency of jelly. Each step was difficult. His breathing was shallow as he found it harder and harder to catch his breath.

They were just coming off back-to-back missions, but it was still confusing. Byleth was in excellent shape thanks to his years of mercenary work; his body was no less than a machine. Why it was so tuckered out after two assignments was a mystery to him. It wasn't as if he had overused Divine Pulse, either. In fact, they had somehow scraped by without Byleth using his gift even once.

So, why…?

His fingers brushed against the Hero's Relic at his waist.

Could that have been the reason?

"Here we are."

Edelgard pushed the door open and Byleth followed behind.

The monastery's infirmary was well-staffed and well-equipped, but it was lacking somewhat in size. The room only had enough space for three cots, and all of them were occupied by Flayn, Monica, and Manuela. It looked like some of the church's staff were moving furniture around for them to fit in a few more beds, but for now, all they had for his students were some wooden chairs.

Ferdinand sat in one of them, wincing as Rhea healed his wounds. The rest of the Eagles were lined up next to him as they waited their turn.

"It's a bit crowded." Edelgard frowned.

"Oh, well." Byleth shrugged. "Let's just find a-"

Edelgard grabbed his good arm and pulled him out of the room.

"Edelgard?"

"We'll use your father's office," she said. Given the tone in her voice, it wasn't up for discussion.

He allowed her to lead him to the next door over, only to find it already open.

Jeralt stood over his desk, a tired expression on his face as he fingered through a few papers that were strewn about on its surface. His father was never one for paperwork, so this didn't come as much of a surprise to him.

The legendary mercenary's head perked up as the two entered. His familiar, easy-going smile tugged at his lips as his brown eyes met Byleth's. Byleth imagined he must be quite relieved for the distraction.

"Hey, you two. Long time no see," his father greeted them, his smile evaporating when his eyes moved south of Byleth's neck.

His hand snapped to the hilt of the sword he carried.

"Who did this?"

Despite the obvious tension in the room, Byleth felt a smile of his own spread across his cheeks. His father was never the most affectionate parent on the planet. His parenting style was always more of a "sink or swim" nature, but when it came to someone other than himself laying a hand to Byleth, he was as protective as they came.

"The Death Knight. Though, the burns are somewhat my fault."

Edelgard looked to him. He didn't have to turn his head to feel her disapproving stare.

"Death Knight?" Jeralt's eyes widened.

"It's a long story."

"I can tell that much." Jeralt frowned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Sir Jeralt, we need to borrow your office," Edelgard interrupted, her hand tightening around Byleth's arm.

"No kidding," he snorted and looked down to his desk. "Go right ahead. I was just finishing up anyways."

Edelgard led Byleth to a nearby chair, nudging him into it.

Jeralt walked out from behind his desk, grabbing the shield leaning against the wall and looping his arm through its strap.

"I was about to head out, so I'll leave you kids to it," Jeralt said, frowning as he looked at Byleth. "Don't be too gentle with him."

Edelgard smiled slightly in reply.

"Father, do you have time later?" Byleth called out to him as he left. His eyes flickered to Edelgard. "There are… some things I wanted to discuss with you."

Jeralt turned his head back to him, his brows raised.

"Never thought I'd live to see the day that you wanted to talk," the father chuckled.

Byleth resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I have some new orders from Lady Rhea, but I'll be back next week. I'll come find you."

"Okay."

"See you, kid."

Jeralt stopped, turning his head to Edelgard.

"Thanks for looking after my boy, princess."

"It's nothing he wouldn't do for me."

Byleth quirked an eyebrow, looking back and forth between them. They somehow seemed… Closer than when the three last spoke.

Jeralt hummed to himself, evaluating the two one last time before leaving the room.

"Since when did he start calling you 'princess?'" Byleth asked, genuinely curious.

"Just now," Edelgard answered simply, placing her hands on her hips. "Strip."

There wasn't a shred of shame or indecency on her features. It was as if she was ordering a subject rather than talking to her professor. Byleth found it hard not to balk at her demand when she said something like that with such a straight face.

Regardless, he shrugged, moving his hands to start undoing his armor. He worked at his left shoulder piece, while Edelgard worked on the right.

With those two pieces gone, Byleth's jacket fell to the ground.

He undid his chest piece next, wincing as he pulled it over his head.

Then came the undershirt, which he gingerly tugged off. There wasn't a reason to remove his pants, thank goodness, so he stopped there.

He glanced at the flesh wound, clicking his tongue. It was still oozing its red liquid. Streaks of dried blood went down his scarred chest, stopping at his abdomen.

Edelgard frowned as she looked at it. Her eyes didn't move as she took off her left glove.

Byleth fully expected some type of scolding or perhaps a chiding remark or two, but they never came. Instead, his student simply placed her hand to the wound and went to work. The familiar white glow of healing magic bloomed in the palm of her hand. There was an unpleasant tugging sensation as the flesh began to mend.

Edelgard's brow was creased as she focused on casting the spell. She wasn't the most proficient healer, but even she could heal a minor wound if she wasn't rushed.

"You're not going to say anything?" Byleth's mouth moved against his better judgement. He had found it rather odd that she had yet to comment.

She spared a glance at him before returning to the task at hand.

"Why would I?" she mumbled. "It'd be irrational to chastise you every time."

Edelgard hesitated. The hint of unsavory emotions that flashed across her features betrayed her words. Anger, sadness… guilt? Byleth was probably imagining that last part.

"Besides, it is unreasonable to expect you to go through a battle completely unscathed… I only wish that-"

She stopped herself, shaking her head. Her long, white hair brushed against his bare shoulder. It tickled slightly.

"Wish what?" Byleth prodded lightly, ignoring the feeling.

Edelgard pursed her lips, her hands dropping slightly as her mind wandered.

"Even if you were there, we can't know if it would have changed anything," Byleth went on. "As you said, these things happen."

"They shouldn't." She glowered, her hands subconsciously curling into fists.

The pure hatred in her eyes caught him off guard. Edelgard had a habit letting her anger surface on occasion, but Byleth had rarely seen such an expression on her face. He wondered if that anger was directed towards herself, or towards the perpetrators.

"That doesn't sound like you."

Once again, he spoke before thinking.

Edelgard adorned a distant look in her eyes before continuing her magic.

"Perhaps it doesn't," she muttered.

After a few seconds of silence, she removed her hands.

"There." Her head bobbed up and down a few times, content that the wound was closed. "Now, give me your hand."

Byleth raised his arm. She delicately took hold of his hand in hers. Her touch was warm.

Edelgard carefully rotated the hand back and forth. She exhaled slowly as she examined his burned skin.

"How did this happen?"

"I threw a punch," Byleth declared. It was a good punch.

The princess shook her head but didn't say anymore on the subject.

Byleth peeked at her hands as she worked. They seemed so small in comparison to his own.

Her left one was alight with the healing spell, while her right-

Byleth's eyes narrowed at the red splotch on her sleeve.

"There's blood on you."

Edelgard lifted her head looking confused.

She followed his eyes to her right arm, her eyes widening at the small, pea-sized blood stain on the white hem of her sleeve.

Byleth's gaze traveled to her waist. There were dark stains on her pant-legs as well. The fabric was black, so it was impossible to tell what they were, but Byleth could venture a guess.

"…Why is there blood on your clothes?"

Edelgard hadn't been involved in the battle, so why would…

No. That couldn't be. I already ruled out the possibility.

"It must be from when I helped Professor Hanneman," Edelgard replied matter-of-factly. "I hadn't even noticed."

She sighed as she went back to repairing his hand.

"To think I missed that… I'll have to change clothes later."

Byleth nodded, but his eyes didn't stray too far from the curious stain on her wrist. Again, that made sense. Another perfectly reasonable excuse.

There was nothing more to it than that.


And there you have it! I meant to get this chapter out last week, but some things came up. We've all been there.

I always love a good reference to a past chapter. In case you've forgotten, it was a reference to Jeralt and Byleth's conversation in chapter 7! I'll leave it at that. : )

I'll be honest, one of the reasons I was drawn to starting this story at the beginning of the game as opposed to the time skip (among many others), was so that I could explore the nuuuumerous other feelings that get thrown into Byleth and Edelgard's growing relationship. I really don't think Byleth is dense enough to not realize who the Flame Emperor really is early on, so it'll be fun to juggle that along with his own progressing feelings for her, as well as his position as a teacher. And of course, Edelgard, who latches on to Byleth rather quickly, having to struggle with the conflicting emotions regarding her professor and her goals. One of the many reasons I adore these two so much. The road ahead definitely isn't easy for these two.

Anyhow, there'll be one or two more chapter before we get to the Battle of the Eagle and Lion! Originally, I was planning on writing that whole thing out, but there's been a bit too much combat as of late for my liking. I'll probably settle with writing the very end and the celebration feast after it (it's a super big shame they don't show that in game). And of course the other nice moments inbetween. Can't forget our "class reunion" speech!

See you all next time!