Jeralt's sword cleaved through the hooded man's chest, sending him to the ground a crumpled mess.
The villager he had saved blinked dumbly at the sight, the realization that his life had been spared taking a moment to dawn on him.
He looked up at Jeralt, his eyes filled with unshed tears.
"T-thank you, Jeralt! I-I won't forget this!"
"It's better that you do." The captain frowned, motioning with his head towards the village entrance behind him. "Get out of here. My son and I will take care of the rest."
The villager, a grey-haired man that Byleth didn't recognize, nodded and ran off.
"Is that all of them?" Byleth asked, searching the burning town for any hints of remaining life.
"I believe so," Jeralt sighed, cleaning his blade on the back of the villain he killed. "To think there were so few left to be saved…"
In the end, there had only been ten of the fifty-something villagers that were within saving. The rest had either gone mad… or were killed by whoever had caused this calamity.
Byleth took another look around the village he once knew. By now, nearly every building had burned down to its foundations. The homes that weren't totally destroyed would be that way soon. The ones untouched by the original fire were starting to burn as the flames began to spread. It wouldn't be long now. In another hour or so, it was likely whatever remained of Remire Village would be long gone. Everything would be reduced to ash.
The only thing that would remain of this settlement would be whatever memories the survivors would carry with them; for whatever good that was worth.
The villagers that survived today would be without homes, without jobs, without money… without family. All that they'd have after today would be the clothes on their back and the nightmares they would carry with them. How many of them would be able to move on from this? Would they ever truly be able to start again?
How long could they go on before the ghosts started haunting them?
"…Did we really save them?" Byleth whispered to himself.
Perhaps… Perhaps they would have been better off-
He could feel a hand grip his shoulder. It was hesitant at first, as if she was debating whether or not the gesture would be appreciated, but after a few seconds her grip tightened.
Byleth glanced at Edelgard. By some strange twist of fate, she was fairing much better than he was at masking her emotions. Her lips were taught, her head level. Her eyes didn't seem to gravitate towards the ground or to the skeletons of the ruined homes like his did.
But, with the way her free hand trembled as it clenched the hilt of her axe, he wagered she must have been struggling with her own inner turmoil as well.
Or… At least, that was what he hoped.
"As long as there's life, there will always be hope," she spoke quietly, her voice almost drowned out by the roar of the flames. "Hope for a better tomorrow, a future brighter than this one."
Byleth held her gaze. He wondered if she truly believed that, or if she was just saying it for his sake.
Edelgard… confused him greatly. He was having trouble grasping the emotions he felt when she stood by his side like this. Her hand comforted him. Her presence comforted him. In this moment of darkness that reeked of blood and decay, she comforted him more than she could possibly know… Yet, when he stared into those eyes that were seemingly becoming harder and harder to read, he didn't know what he felt.
But, for now, he knew with a certainty that the warmth he felt spread down his icy veins was in no small part due to her.
"You're right." He nodded, but his reply was automatic. Mechanic. It had no feeling.
Byleth turned to the group waiting behind him. It had been a grueling task, but the village had almost been reclaimed; well, what was left of it anyway. All that remained now were the enemies near the southern-most section of Remire. Once they were defeated, the day could finally be over. This long, miserable day.
"Eagles! Form up."
The crew enclosed around the professor, while Shamir and Jeralt stood at his flanks. The Black Eagles looked a little ragged, but by some miracle none seemed to be terribly injured. Once he had quelled his wild anger, he was greatly worried that one or two might have sustained serious wounds without his knowledge, but thankfully that did not seem to be the case.
They were certainly tired, however. Byleth could spot the bags under their eyes from lack of sleep and their sluggish, fatigued movements. Given his own tiredness, they had to wrap this up quickly. He wasn't sure if his body could sustain many more uses of Divine Pulse. Were he operating at full capacity, he could use it at least six times before he began to feel the general wear and tear it inflicted upon him. But in this sorry state, he'd be lucky to use it twice more.
"From here, we push forward and eliminate any remaining threat," Byleth told them. "Don't stray too far from the pack. The smoke is clearing, but the visibility is still poor."
The class nodded.
"Father, Shamir and I will take point. Tread carefully."
With his final orders given, the group continued their path through the town. The dirt road they were on now was the only one that led through the small Remire Village. It started at the entrance and cut a straight path through the settlement and to the rear exit of the village.
As Byleth walked, he scanned the clouds of smoke for any signs of danger. While he was fairly certain that the Eagles had cleared out most of them, he couldn't be too careful. These people were cunning. He couldn't be sure that they didn't have some more men waiting in the wings, looking for the perfect opportunity to strike.
"Edelgard," Byleth called out to the girl as they walked.
"What is it, my teacher?" The princess replied, her own eyes darting back and forth as she cast a vigil of her own.
"Do you think there are more enemies hiding out of sight?"
He had to keep it vague. Byleth was fully aware that somehow Edelgard was connected to this group, but as to how, he was not sure. There was no telling how deep that connection ran. At least, not at this moment.
It was a safe assumption that she might have a better understanding of their numbers than he.
Edelgard glanced at him. It was a simple question between house leader and professor, but between the two of them, it was anything but.
"I do." She nodded. "And we have yet to find their leader. As you suggested, it is best to tread carefully."
He frowned. She knew who the leader was, then.
As he was watching her rather than the road in front of him, Byleth walked right into the arm that was blocking his path.
"Hold."
"Father?" Byleth asked, looking to the captain.
Jeralt's brow was furrowed, his head angled slightly to the side as if he were trying to hear something.
Byleth immediately tensed, raising his sword to let it rest on his shoulder. The Sword of the Creator sprung to life as his focus returned. The red strands of electricity that had laid dormant began to spark as they arced up and down the blade.
Jeralt's gaze was steady on the row of trees in front of him. Shamir must have sensed something as well, as she had already drawn an arrow.
The professor's eyebrows twitched. He could hear it now. It was… a humming sound.
"Professor?" Linhardt lifted an eyebrow. The drowsy boy's question had gone unnoticed.
Byleth pushed aside his father's arm, stepping forward as he flicked his wrist. The Sword of the Creator's blade expanded, hanging loosely over his back.
That sound… It was almost as if someone was-
"There!" Jeralt's head jerked to one of the trees.
A sizable orb of purple magic flew from the cover of leaves, barreling straight for the place he stood.
Byleth grunted as he swung his sword.
The Sword of the Creator slashed horizontally through the air, the red blade cutting through the dark magic.
The spell dissipated without much resistance, as if Byleth had cut through nothing but a cloud.
…Strange. Whoever casted it didn't put much strength behind it. That couldn't have been more than a simple spell. And to attack them from the front… It was almost as if it was a warning shot instead of an actual attempt at his life.
The village grew impossibly quiet, and the air cold.
A figure walked out from his cover in the trees.
Byleth's eyes widened momentarily, only to narrow dangerously as he recognized the old man.
"I should have known…" The professor growled. It looked as if Sothis had been right. Her intuition was impressive as always.
A hundred feet or so separated him from Tomas, but even at this range, Byleth could see the easy smile that adorned his face. It was the same look he had seen numerous times whenever he watched the librarian tend to the monastery's collection, although now, it somehow looked devoid of all life.
"The librarian…" Jeralt frowned, the muscles in his jaw tightening.
Edelgard stiffened as she watched the man limp forwards with his cane. She didn't look all that surprised either.
"Dare I even ask what you are doing here, Tomas?"
While she didn't appear to be startled by the turn of events, her eyes flared with poorly masked animosity.
The librarian's grin turned into a sneer.
"'Tomas…'" The man cackled, as if the sound of his own name was somehow amusing to him. "I'm not Tomas. My name is Solon, the savior of all!"
Byleth's brows knitted together. Savior? Savior?
His hands clenched around the hilt of his weapon. Feeding off his growing rage, the red energy of the Creator's sword intensified.
Cocking his arm back, he readied himself to strike down this foul man-
-Only to stop, his eyes wide as dark magic began to pool at Tomas's feet. His arm fell back down to his side, unsure of how to proceed.
The purple tendrils slithered upwards as they coiled around Solon. Within seconds, the entirety of his body had been encased in magic.
"Edelgard?" Byleth spoke in a hushed whisper, his eyes jumping to her.
Edelgard's glare worsened. The frown she had been wearing had nearly transformed into a snarl.
"The snake is shedding his skin."
As the purple smoke cleared, Tomas was no more. A new man stood in his place. A man with skin white as snow, and grey, bordering on light blue hair slicked back over his enlarged skull. Veins bulged on his forehead, seemingly leading to the black hole that had become his right eye. A small, yellow pupil was the only thing that hung in that abyss.
"I always knew that old man was creepy," Lysithea grumbled. "But to think he was capable of this…"
Byleth could hear a few more gasps from behind him. Murmurs grew as his class stared upon Tomas's true form.
"What's the matter? So shocked you can't even speak?" Solon jeered, cackling once more. "You were so easily fooled by my disguise!"
"Don't give yourself too much credit," Byleth scoffed. This man's boasting was grating.
Solon's beady eye turned to Byleth, his sneer turning into a scowl.
"Ah, the cursed Fell Star…"
Byleth quirked an eyebrow at the title. Fell Star? What was that supposed to mean?
"If my cover was so easily blown, why is it that you didn't stop me beforehand? If you had, perhaps you could have saved all these lives. Because now, we are just one step closer to realizing our goal."
"Goal…?" Byleth mumbled. "What goal are you speaking of?"
"That little girl's blood, of course. I believe you refer to her as Flayn?" Solon replied flippantly, as if the answer was common knowledge.
Byleth spared the small girl a look, who at the sound of her name, had taken a step back, her hands balled into fists as she glowered at the man.
Curious. Why would Solon so readily give up that information? What was there to gain from that? All it did was confirm his suspicions that the ones behind her kidnapping and those behind the destruction of Remire Village were one and the-
"Closely guarded she was by her 'older brother,'" Solon continued. "Strange, no? How opportune it was for the Death Knight to lend us his… talents. What a capable ally he turned out to be."
Byleth's eyes widened at the name. The reaper… He lent them his talents? Lending implies that his ownership belongs to another-
…The Flame Emperor had been there that day Flayn had been abducted. She was the one that stopped the Death Knight… No. She had instructed him to stop, and he followed willingly.
Wait…
But that wasn't the first time they had to battle with the knight, only for him to retreat.
Edelgard and Hubert had volunteered to fend him off that day in the holy mausoleum. When the dust had settled, he was gone, and neither seemed to have sustained any considerable injuries against such a fearsome foe. Had… Had the same thing happened then? Did Edelgard and Hubert order the Death Knight to leave? And he listened? What kind of relationship did they have if he were to follow their orders? Just who was he truly working for?
In the end, Seiros's tomb didn't hold her remains, but the Sword of the Creator instead: the legendary weapon that was said to turn the tides of war simply by being wielded. After the sword had been gifted to him by Rhea, he had researched the Relic and its siblings extensively. There were many interesting studies regarding them and their origins, but there was one thing that always stood out to him.
Only those with the Crest of Flames could wield it.
…But he wasn't the only one that bore that Crest.
Did… Did Edelgard know what was in that tomb beforehand? Was it the Sword of the Creator she had been after? If things were different… would it be in her hands, rather than his?
Byleth pushed aside his thoughts, taking a single step forward.
"Enough talking," he spat, raising his sword. As he couldn't undo what had already been done, it was pointless to get lost in speculation. "You'll regret coming here."
"Oh? Will I?" Solon smirked. "I believe the only one with regret will be you, Fell Star. So brazen of you to push so far forward, leaving just one lowly woman to protect them all."
Them?
Byleth's breath caught in his throat, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach.
Manuela!
"Father!" Byleth snapped his head to Jeralt.
"That bastard…" Jeralt growled, baring his teeth. He motioned towards Shamir. "Come on, Shamir. We have to hurry."
"Right behind you, Captain." The fellow mercenary nodded, following after him.
The two ran off, back towards the entrance of Remire Village as quickly as their legs could take them, leaving only Byleth and the Eagles to deal with Solon.
"Run while you can!" Solon laughed, calling after them. "But you will be too late. By now, they're surely dead."
"He is lying, Professor. Don't let him get into your head," Edelgard cautioned in a low voice. "This man feeds off deceit and fear. If we give him that, he'll have already won."
Her words made sense, given his loose lips. And it was very possible that this was a ploy just to split their group up. With a few simple words, two of their most skilled, more experienced soldiers wouldn't be present for the impending skirmish.
Byleth lifted his sword, clutching its hilt in a two-handed grip.
Lying or not, it did not matter now. Byleth would make him pay for simply uttering those words. For even daring to threaten the lives of his friends, he would erase this man from existence.
"Yes, come, Fell Star! This will be a fine opportunity to measure your power!"
"Hmph."
That would be the last mistake he ever made.
Byleth turned his head to the students awaiting his orders. They outnumbered Solon eleven to one, so the odds were heavily in their favor, but… Something told him that wasn't all there was to it. Chances were, there was a catch. Something he wasn't prepared for. Solon wouldn't approach them alone unless he had a few allies hidden somewhere. He was acting far too confident for the position he was in.
His mercenary gut was telling him it'd be a mistake to try and overtake him with their advantage. He had to cover all of his bases.
"Felix, Petra. Return to the front gate. Assist Jeralt and Shamir if needed."
The two nodded, then scattered.
"Linhardt, Flayn, stay put and be prepared to cast healing spells at a moment's notice. I'll be counting on you."
The boy didn't look entirely thrilled to be put to work, but at least he didn't object. Flayn, on the other hand, nodded readily.
"Caspar, protect our healers. Everyone else, stick close to me, but don't engage him unless I give the signal."
"You're attacking him alone?" Ferdinand questioned, looking confused.
"It's obviously a trap," Hubert sighed. "The professor is simply being cautious. It would be foolish to charge him recklessly."
"Yes." Byleth nodded. "Be prepared for anything."
Byleth's gaze returned to Solon, who, for some reason or another, was patiently waiting for him to make the first move. Dark magic swirled around his raised palm, but that was where the magic remained. He made no move to attack.
Obvious, indeed, but Byleth saw no other alternative than to trigger the trap. It was better to know what they were dealing with sooner rather than later. And, if it happened to be more than he bargained for, he could rewind time and handle it differently.
He could simply have Bernie and the magic users attack him from a distance, but… Byleth feared how Solon might retaliate. There was no telling what kind of tools he had at his disposal.
It was better if he was the only one in danger.
"Remember, wait for my signal."
Readying his sword, Byleth ran forwards.
Solon grinned, raising his hand.
A stream of purple, dark magic erupted from the palm. A much more potent attack than the one he first used.
Byleth flung his arm forward, the Sword of the Creator releasing as the blade expanded.
The glowing red sword slashed through the magic, dispersing the attack.
Retracting the sword halfway, Byleth raised his arm. The Sword of the Creator followed his movements, lifting high into the sky. Then, with as much strength as he could muster, he brought his arm down, and with it, the blade came plummeting to the earth.
Solon simply watched as the sword fell upon him, not moving an inch to get out of the way of its collision course.
Then, at the last second…
A scythe materialized out of thin air, blocking the powerful strike as if it were nothing but a tap.
The scythe knocked it aside.
Three spells erupted from three separate trees, reducing the branches and leaves they passed through to ash.
Byleth tugged on his sword, jumping backwards to avoid the magic that was sent his way. The three orbs of dark energy collided into the ground where he once stood, sending a pillar of dirt and smoke into the air.
"Well, that didn't take long," Hubert remarked glibly. "What are your orders, Professor?"
"Wait."
As the dust settled, six new bodies were standing beside Solon. Three were on horseback, while three were foot soldiers.
Five of them didn't matter. It was the sixth knight in a suit of black armor that immediately caught his attention. The familiar scythe that Byleth had already seen too much of was held loosely in the Death Knight's grip, the shaft of his ghastly weapon resting on his shoulder pauldron.
"So, we meet again…" Byleth murmured, his eyes instinctively flickering to Edelgard. The princess was wearing an annoyed frown as she glared at the knight. She didn't seem entirely pleased to see him either.
"It is my pleasure…" Jeritza's voice was raspy, his head tilting to the side as he examined Byleth with his red eyes. "Do your best to kill me with that blade…"
The professor adjusted his grip around the sword in question, his eyes counting each of the heads before him. Four used magic. Three were on horseback.
Despite the numbers, they were at a disadvantage. The Death Knight alone counted for at least a dozen men, while Solon had yet to show his full power. For what reason, he could not say, but he couldn't afford to dwell on it either.
If he were to guess, however, Byleth would assume he was taking that 'measuring his power' statement to heart.
"Change of plans. Those who can attack at range, focus your firepower on the mages," Byleth instructed, turning his eyes to the small girl behind him. "Lysithea, are you ready for round two?"
The mage grinned, the palm of her hand crackling with magical energy.
"Leave it to me."
Byleth smirked, nodding. He always appreciated that confidence of hers.
Shifting his gaze to Edelgard, his expression returned to its neutral state.
"Edelgard and I will lead the charge, while Ferdinand assists. Caspar, I still need you to protect our healers."
The blue-haired fighter didn't look thrilled by that, but he nodded regardless. Even a reckless guy like that realized the importance of protecting the backline. The healers were the most important part of any attacking force, after all.
He spared one last glance back at the students behind him.
"Stay calm, and we can win this. Lysithea, wait for my cue."
They all nodded in unison, not an ounce of hesitation or doubt clouding their features. How great a change it was compared to the last time they faced the Death Knight… Not even Bernadetta looked all that afraid. They were all waiting for Byleth's signal, not one of their heads lowered. No trembling arms. No frightened faces.
They've all grown so much. Byleth felt pride swirl in his chest as he met each of their steadfast faces.
"I'm counting on you all," he told them with a smile.
Raising his arms, he readied his blade-
And charged.
Edelgard matched Byleth's pace, her axe trailing behind her as she ran.
The two were heading straight for the Death Knight.
The knight's presence had come to a surprise to her, but given the circumstances, it really shouldn't have.
Edelgard found it hard to believe that her uncle would really require the incredible strength the Death Knight possessed to conquer Remire Village. Solon and his men would have been plenty enough to conduct their experiments without much resistance. Taking Hubert's hypothesis into consideration, there was really only one explanation as to why Arundel had ordered Jeritza here.
It was just another attempt to implicate her, or should she say, the Flame Emperor in today's atrocities. It was concerning to consider the growing evidence that was stacking against her, but now was hardly the time to worry about how she might be perceived while the lives of her friends were on the line. She could only hope that the professor wouldn't begin to question her loyalties until there was time to explain it to him.
The Death Knight adjusted the grip on his scythe as they approached. With his free hand, he whipped his horse's reins.
The black steed threw its head back and neighed, its hooves pounding the dirt as it began to gallop forward.
The other horsemen followed suit.
Three men on horseback charged the three of them.
Byleth nodded as he met Edelgard's eyes.
"Ferdinand, right! Edelgard, left!"
Edelgard broke off to the left, while Ferdinand to the right.
The horseman she would be facing wielded a sword. He wasn't nearly as imposing as the Death Knight, but Edelgard wouldn't drop her guard. This one had to be skilled if he was led by the reaper.
Edelgard slowly lifted her arms, but waited to bring her axe around. She had to be patient. Given their differences in height and arm span, she couldn't afford to take the first strike. Edelgard would have to wait, then retaliate.
The man whipped his reins, urging his horse onward.
To her right, she could hear the clash of steel on steel. She could spot the red shine of the Sword of the Creator being guided through the air. He had already engaged his target.
Skilled or not, she had to dispose of this foe quickly to assist her professor.
When only a dozen or so feet separated the two, the man raised his sword.
He tried striking at her with an underhand slash, his blade carving upwards through the air and towards her chest.
This was perhaps the greatest downfall of challenging someone on foot while atop a mount. In the chaos of war, a score of cavalry would find much more success stampeding through the ranks of infantry. However, in a one-on-one duel, a single horseman wouldn't find nearly as much success. While his reach, speed, and stature were greater, a horse's mobility wasn't as flexible as a man standing on his own two feet. And from the perch on a saddle, he was much easier to read.
Edelgard jumped to the side, evading the strike.
As the horse galloped past, Edelgard swung with all her might at its rear legs. Her weapon would have cut through without much resistance, but at the final second, she pulled the blow.
The animal squealed in pain as blood gushed from its newly accrued wounds. The steed crashed to the ground, tumbling forwards as it landed on top of its master. The man grunted in pain as the full weight of the horse's body fell upon one of his legs.
Edelgard detested the act of striking down such a gallant creature, but there was nothing for it. If she were to get misty eyed every time she downed a mount, she wouldn't make it very far.
Readjusting her grip, she took off towards the fallen man.
With wide eyes he watched as Edelgard grew closer and closer, his arms moving frantically to dislodge the horse that was writhing on top of him.
Edelgard jumped into the air, her axe raised above her head.
Finally pushing the beast off of him, the man rolled to the side.
Her axe smashed into the ground, lodging itself in the dirt, precisely where the man's head had been just moments before.
Edelgard yanked it from the ground, her head snapping to the right. He had picked himself up, his sword held out in front of him in a two-handed grip.
But, given the way he was favoring his right side, his leg must have been broken. If that was the case, this battle wouldn't go on much longer.
Edelgard darted forwards.
She angled her axe towards the man's left side.
He twisted his sword to block the strike.
Steel met steel as the two weapons collided, sparks flying as the metals smacked against each other.
With her right leg, she kicked at his broken one as hard as she could.
There was a terrible crunching sound as her foot connected.
The man howled in pain, immediately falling to one knee, as his crippled leg just couldn't support his weight any longer.
Without a second of hesitation, Edelgard swung downwards, towards the area where his neck met his shoulder.
Her axe slammed into his body, cutting through his flesh as if it were butter.
His roar of pain died on his lips. The only sound that escaped his throat was a gargling sound as the man slumped forwards.
Edelgard frowned, pulling her axe free. With it gone, the man fell to the ground completely.
Skilled or not, a disadvantage was a disadvantage. If anything, he clearly wasn't experienced. If he was, he would have elected to fight Edelgard on foot instead.
Edelgard lifted her head, her eyes surveying the field to see how her partners were fairing.
Byleth was still locked in a neck-and-neck bout with the Death Knight, while it appeared that Ferdinand was preparing to finish off his own opponent. He had the clear advantage, but still, he was a few seconds behind Edelgard; a fact that would no doubt annoy him later.
The princess ran off to join her professor. Neither he, nor the knight seemed to have an edge in their duel, but Edelgard could spot the slight strain on Byleth's face. The sweat that was dripping down his skin. He was getting worn, and while his blade was nearly moving faster than her eyes could follow, she knew it could not stay that way. Similar to that day in the holy mausoleum, her teacher was fatigued.
She had to assist him and make sure Solon or the Death Knight didn't harm him. Edelgard wasn't about to sit and watch the light in her life fade to black.
Her feet pounded the dirt as she ran, slowly lifting her axe as she prepared her attack.
The Death Knight's helmet twitched, his red eyes shooting towards her.
She swung with all of her strength, once again targeting the enemy's mount.
The reaper used the end of his scythe to block her axe, while he used the front to deflect Byleth's.
"You… What are you trying to do here?" Jeritza hissed.
"You're the one that should be answering that question," Edelgard retorted, steadying her axe with a firm hold. "Stay out of my way!"
Edelgard didn't wish to kill him… But there were only so many times she could allow this to continue.
She pounced forwards, attempting to hit the leg that was draped over the horse.
The Death Knight grunted as he blocked her strike, his beady eyes trained on Byleth as he flew towards his other side.
The professor was aiming to pierce his midsection with a thrust.
The knight moved the other end of his scythe to intercept his blow-
But it was a feint. At the final second, Byleth twisted his sword his sword to the side, smacking the plating on the back of the Death Knight's arm.
The armor cracked as the Creator's Sword clanged off of it. Were it any other man, his arm would have probably been cleaved in two. However, the Death Knight's armor was thicker and sturdier than most.
"Ferdinand!"
Edelgard's eyes widened as she watched the red-haired boy seemingly materialize out of nowhere. He was running towards the Death Knight's exposed backside.
Ferdinand lunged forwards, the point of his lance aiming directly towards where Jertiza's heart would have been.
"You are not the one I crave…"
The reaper's hand lashed outwards, snatching the lance before it could connect. He closed his fist around the shaft, shattering the wood completely.
Ferdinand stared dumbfounded at the broken end of his weapon. It was now just a glorified stick.
The horse neighed as it spun in a half-circle. As his steed moved, Jeritza struck Ferdinand with the tail end of his scythe, knocking the boy to the ground.
"Edelgard!" Byleth called to her, his sword breaking apart.
The princess nodded, running forward to retaliate.
Tensing the muscles in her legs, she pushed her feet off the ground.
Flying through the air, she brought her axe over her head.
The Death Knight's head jerked towards her, his eyes widening as he saw the axe coming down towards his chest.
He raised his scythe at the last second, intercepting her weapon with his.
The two weapons collided, but Edelgard's blow proved to be too much. With her heightened strength, the axe tore through the scythe's shaft. The steel edge of her axe cut down the middle of Jeritza's armor, leaving a sizable gash in its wake.
The Death Knight growled in pain as red liquid trickled out from the crevice. It was only a minor flesh wound, but she had been able to get past his steel plating.
But, before he could recover, Byleth had already made his move. The Sword of the Creator was flung forwards, its chain wrapping around Jeritza's waist. The grooves of the blade locked in place.
With a firm tug, the Death Knight was thrown from his horse. There was a loud thud as the heavy man fell to the dirt floor.
"Lysithea!"
Edelgard lifted her head towards the thrumming sound in the sky. Her jaw dropped as she saw multiple purple spikes of magical energy hovering in the air, their points angled towards the reaper's fallen body.
Then, in unison, the spikes fell. If she blinked, she would have missed it.
As each point crashed into the Death Knight, a sizable explosion of purple magic erupted from the epicenter.
Edelgard had to cover her eyes with an arm to ward off the mighty gust of wind that followed. She could feel her clothing and cape whip in the wind as it blew past her, dirt and other bits going every which way. The force of the blast nearly knocked her over outright.
As it died down, Edelgard lowered her arm, her eyes scanning the cloud of dust, dirt, and smoke for any sign of life that might have survived such an attack. She always knew Lysithea was talented when it came to magic, but to say she expected power to this nature… That would be a lie.
Did they… Could they have possibly killed Jeritza?
The princess looked to her professor, still slightly awestruck.
Byleth had just let out a sigh of relief, his hand wiping his sweaty brow as his eyes met hers.
The mercenary smirked, giving her a nod and a thumbs up.
"That's just how we drew it up last time," he told her. "Although, Lysithea packs a much bigger wallop than she did-"
Byleth froze mid-sentence, his head snapping towards the smoke. She had heard it as well. Both could sense something stirring within the cloud.
"Ferdinand! Back away!" Byleth instructed, pointing the tip of his sword towards the dense mist.
Edelgard stiffened, holding her axe out as well. Something was moving.
She flinched as the Death Knight's horse emerged from the smoke and galloped past in a frenzy, its head whipping back and forth as it whinnied in fear. It took all of her willpower to stifle the gasp that had jumped to her lips at the sudden movement and sound.
Byleth was startled as well. She could see him visibly jump as the horse ran past, his eyes following it as it went.
Then, a voice slithered out from the smoke.
"You are a fool to think the same thing would work twice…"
She could see the smoke moving behind her professor.
Edelgard gasped, her blood running cold.
His guard was down. He hadn't noticed.
Before she realized, her legs were already moving.
"Byleth!"
Edelgard was running towards him. His vision was blurry with unshed tears, but even so, he could see her eyes were wide with fear, her lips mouthing his name.
Byleth turned on his heel, stabbing his sword into the general area he knew the Death Knight would emerge from. He knew where he'd be, as this had already happened… Moments before, before he had rewound time to this specific moment.
There was crunching of metal, followed by a squelching sound of steel piercing flesh as the Sword of the Creator embedded itself into Jertiza's gut.
The Death Knight grunted, his head dipping down as he looked to the sword stuck in his stomach.
"…Impressive," Jeritza gave a wet cough, pulling the blade from his body.
The Death Knight let go of the sword, but Byleth didn't move. He could have finished it. He should have finished it, but…
He could just still see it all so clearly. Those terrible, awful images that raced through his mind… They filled his body with despair, to the point where he could hardly move.
Jeritza didn't move an inch, either. His eyes bobbed up and down as he judged the professor and his worth. Whatever killing intent the knight had possessed was all but gone, as if some switch had been flipped the moment the Sword of the Creator pierced his body.
"Unfortunately, this will not be the day where you kill me… I must go." Jertiza's voice was ragged, his breathing strained. "We will meet again."
Byleth didn't care. He didn't care about any of that. He didn't care about this strange fascination the Death Knight seemed to have with him or his sword. He didn't care about the cackling Solon, watching this scene play out like some deranged spectator. He didn't care about any of it… In comparison to what he had witnessed, it all seemed so pointless.
The professor barely registered the pillar of purple light that enveloped the Death Knight. When he raised his head, the only evidence of the knight's presence was the small, red puddle of blood that he had left behind.
"Byleth!"
He could hear Edelgard's footfalls as she came to a stop beside him.
"It seems that I had no reason to worry," the princess exhaled in relief. "I feared that you-"
"What were you planning to do?" Byleth asked, his tone sharp.
"Huh?" Edelgard blinked, caught off guard.
"When you reached me, just what were you planning on doing?"
Edelgard tilted her head to the side, confusion evident on her features.
"That is a strange question…" Edelgard mumbled with a frown. "What do you think I was going to do? I was going to-"
"Tackle me out of the way?"
Edelgard was silent for a moment, her brow furrowed as she pondered his words.
"If I had to, yes. I wasn't sure if you could stop him in time."
"You do realize what would have happened had you done that, don't you?"
Byleth turned to look at her, his brows knitted together. He took hold of the wrist on her right arm, slowly lifting it in the air. Edelgard looked even more confused by his action, but she didn't voice a protest.
"That scythe would have caught this arm as we fell to the ground, severing it. I wouldn't have been able to save you. You would have bled out before any healer could reach you. You would have…"
Did she not realize that? Did she not realize how quickly her life would have ended? Not even the most skilled healer could save someone from exsanguination. Wounds could be healed, bones could be mended, but blood or limbs couldn't be replaced.
Byleth's eyes wandered down her limb, down towards the point where it was connected to the shoulder. He could feel her pulse thump against the fingers locked around her wrist. It… it was still there. She was still whole. She was still alive.
…Yet, when he closed his eyes, he could still hear the scythe cutting through flesh and bone. He could still hear Solon screaming madly at the Death Knight, who had watched it all play out in disbelief. His chest still felt the weight of her lifeless body. His skin still felt that sensation of blood as it had seeped through his clothing. He knew he had prevented it. He realized he avoided that timeline… but even so, his clothing still felt damp. His body itched as if it were still covered in that viscous liquid.
Byleth let go of her arm and lowered his head.
His mind was fragmented with the past he had avoided and the present he had created.
"What are you even talking about?" Edelgard questioned, completely oblivious to the scene he had witnessed. "None of that happened, so why-"
Edelgard's voice died on her lips, her eyes widening as she spotted a few droplets snake down his cheek.
"My teacher… You're crying."
Byleth brought a hand to his eye. He could feel a slight wetness beneath the cloth of his glove.
"No. Dust got into my eyes."
Byleth raised his head, his gaze returning to the battlefield.
During their fighting, the Eagles had taken care of the mages the Death Knight had fielded. All that remained was Solon, who still hadn't moved.
His eyes were boring holes into Byleth, his lips twisted into a crooked smile.
They had to finish this. Now. He couldn't stomach any more death or heartache. His body was tapped of its energy, but if he had to, he would use another instance of Divine Pulse, his own health be damned. He just…
He just couldn't bear to watch one more student die today. He didn't care about anything else, but if he had to witness one more of his precious students suffer…
"We'll talk of this later," Byleth spoke softly, his voice frail.
"…Very well," Edelgard murmured her reply, her eyes still scrutinizing him.
Byleth knew he had baffled her. She was probably perplexed, wondering just what the hell had gotten into him.
But he couldn't do anything about that. Now, or ever. How could he possibly explain to her the power he possessed? The power to control time as if it were a lump of clay to be molded? It was simply impossible. No one would believe it.
That burden was heavy. No one would understand that while every Eagle was present and accounted for, he had seen them all die more than once. He had seen such terrible things… Things that only he and Sothis would ever see.
It was terribly heavy, but he would have to bear it.
Byleth swiped the back of his hand across his eyes.
"Eagles, come!"
He glanced behind him as he heard their footsteps approach. All were present. All were accounted for.
"Solon is the last one, but be ready for anything," the professor advised. "Now, let's go wrap this up."
The class collectively nodded. Still, they were unwavering. Not one face suspected a thing.
They were not shaken like he was. It was almost torturous looking into their determined eyes as he felt his resolve falter. They still expected the world of him… If only they knew how weak he felt.
Byleth turned his back to them and strode forwards, his jacket billowing in the wind.
As the Black Eagles approached the man once known as Tomas, he finally spoke.
"You have more tricks up your sleeves than I realized, Fell Star."
Solon still didn't make any moves to attack him. He only watched as Byleth drew closer and closer. It was baffling.
Byleth stopped, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" He frowned.
"Who said I was referring to you?" Solon sneered.
"What? Who else would you-?"
Byleth's eyes widened. He could hear Sothis gasp within his mind. She realized it too.
There's no way… This man couldn't possibly know that… could he?
Somehow… this man knew more about Byleth than he let on. He couldn't let this opportunity slip through his grasps. While it was important to uncover what else this shadowy group had planned… He had to know if Solon knew about his origins. If he knew about Sothis. If he knew about his Crest. These were things he needed answers to.
"You're coming with me."
"Oh?" Solon seemed rather amused by his demand. "Are you going to apprehend me?"
"Yes. You have information."
Raising his arm, he pointed the Sword of the Creator at his chest.
"If you resist, I'll beat it out of you."
Solon threw his head back and laughed. Byleth didn't like that sound.
"As much as I would enjoy watching you try, your death will have to wait. But rest assured, it won't be long now."
It was slight. Barely even a second, but Byleth saw Solon's gaze flicker to Edelgard and Hubert before returning to him.
"Expect no mercy for turning your blade against me, beasts."
If Byleth's heart could move, it surely would have skipped a beat. He could feel his arms begin to tremble as he tried to control the growing rage in the pit of his stomach at hearing this man speak.
"Are you threatening my students?"
"Hm?" Solon raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smirk. "I believe that was rather obvious."
The professor lunged forwards, thrusting his sword towards Solon's heart.
Purple light rained down from the sky, covering the entirety of Solon's body as he laughed.
Byleth's sword cut through nothing but the air. Solon was already gone.
"Damn it!" He spat, stabbing his sword into the ground out of frustration. He should have killed him when he had the chance. It was a mistake to let him leave. Answers to questions he long sought meant nothing if Solon was able to enact this terror on some other unsuspecting victim.
At least it was something he could remedy.
Time slowed to a halt as he readied another use of Divine Pulse.
"No, you fool!" Sothis exclaimed. "Do not use my power for something like this!"
Byleth growled, relinquishing his hold over time as it began to flow freely once more.
"I do not like that man any more than you," Sothis sighed. "But you are spent. Bide your time and wait. There will be another chance to slay that beast."
She was right, of course. Again.
…Okay.
Byleth exhaled slowly, pulling his sword from the ground and placing it back to his waist. He couldn't let him leave next time.
"That's it? We… we won?"
The professor glanced back at Caspar. The boy was watching him, waiting for the all clear. His eyes would occasionally dart around, as if he didn't truly believe all of the enemies were vanquished.
They all were waiting for him to speak.
Byleth met Edelgard's gaze and held it. He could see the numerous questions that swam around in those purple orbs he knew so well… but above all, he could see the concern as she watched him.
He turned his head to the ground, nodding once.
"Yeah, Caspar. We won."
His voice held no enthusiasm as he stated that fact. There was no happiness, no sense of triumph.
Because no one won today.
Given the growing frowns that spread across their faces like a wave, they must have thought the same thing. Even Caspar, the student that would always whoop and holler after a victory, was dead silent, his eyes trained on the floor.
And suddenly, Byleth felt very tired.
"Search the village," he sighed, gently massaging his aching brow. "There might be survivors we missed."
"I'll survey the perimeter, then." Edelgard nodded, her gaze still lingering on him. "There may still be enemies in hiding."
Byleth returned the nod, but he couldn't find the will to give much more than that.
"I'll check in with Jeralt and the others to make sure they're safe," Byleth said. "Linhardt and Lysithea, come with me. They may need more healers. Flayn, stay with the other Eagles to assist if needed."
Compared to her aptitude in reason magic, Lysithea's wasn't as skilled in healing as the other two, but to take his two most proficient healers with him felt like an oversight should the Eagles find a villager in need of medical attention. Besides, the two of them along with Manuela and whatever healing Byleth could do should be more than enough.
As the Eagles scattered to do as they were told, Linhardt and Lysithea fell into step with Byleth as he strode through the destroyed Remire. Their path was back to the front gate.
Byleth's eyes traveled around the burnt remains as he walked. The fires had eaten everything at this point. No homes remained. The once peaceful village was damaged beyond repair. Remire Village would never be the same as it once was, and he doubted that anyone would even bother rebuilding here- not with how much needed to be done. It'd require a small army to hope to clear the rubble and start constructing new buildings.
He nearly tripped over a body as he walked. Byleth could hear Linhardt retch as he stepped around the bloody mess on the ground.
It was a young man. Maybe a teenager? It was difficult to tell given… Given the burns on his face.
Byleth's gaze hovered on the dead boy as he walked by.
"Are you alright, Linhardt?" He asked, finally tearing his eyes away.
"Y-yes," Linhardt mumbled his reply through his hand. "I-I don't think I'll ever get used to the sight of blood."
The boy gagged slightly as he said the word.
"As you shouldn't."
Byleth reached out to lightly pat his student on the back. He feared putting any more strength into it than that. He wouldn't want Linhardt to feel even sicker by his pounding on him.
"T-thanks, Professor," Linhardt sighed, his face turning considerably less green the further away they got.
"What about you, Lysithea?" Byleth asked, his eyes moving past the boy to the smaller girl on the other side.
"Of course I'm fine." She nodded, her expression somber. Lysithea raised her head to look at her teacher. "What about you, though? You…"
The mage hesitated as if she wasn't sure if she should continue.
"You seemed to be the most affected by it all," she finished.
Byleth exhaled slowly, returning his gaze to the road in front of him as he thought of how to respond.
Truthfully speaking, he didn't feel well. Pangs of hunger assaulted his stomach, but he knew he couldn't hope to eat anything after… all of that. His limbs were sore with exertion, his eyes felt heavy, and his head ached. And now, he was beginning to feel dizzy. Likely because of the strain Sothis's powers put on his already weary body.
And she was correct; it had affected him. More than any of the past assignments had. This one… It was personal to him. Other than the monastery, Remire Village was the closest thing he had ever had to a home. To see it ravaged, its people slaughtered… It certainly put a strain on him.
Byleth looked to his two students. Both Lysithea and Linhardt were watching him out of the corner of their eyes. Looking at them, he was reminded of the time he spent countless sleepless nights preparing the Eagles for that battle with Lonato. How he had gone out of his way to lessen the blood on their hands. How he worried that such bloodshed might affect their mental state. How he had hidden an injury just to make them feel a little safer.
Yet, looking at them now… He wondered if that was all necessary. Time and time again, they proved they were stronger than he gave them credit for. In a way, he wondered if they were perhaps stronger than he.
"I'll manage." Byleth smiled at her. He hoped it didn't appear too stilted.
Lysithea was safe. Linhardt was safe… Edelgard was safe. They were all safe.
None of the people he loved were hurt. No matter what days that awaited him, that was something he could continue to strife for. If they all lived… did anything else matter?
Perhaps when he recalled this day, that should be the first thing he remembered.
Byleth placed a hand on Linhardt's head, ruffling his hair.
"Professor, you know I loathe when you do that," the boy groaned.
"You both did well today," Byleth praised, ignoring his student's protests. "I know that's something you might not want to hear given the circumstances, but… Just know that I'm proud of you both."
Linhardt blinked, caught unaware by Byleth's sudden praise. Lysithea smiled slightly, turning her head away from the two.
The boy quickly reeled in his surprise, his eyes gleaming as an idea came to him.
"If you're really feeling appreciative, perhaps you could let me nap through your lectures?"
"Linhardt!" Lysithea gasped, snapping her head back to Byleth. "Professor, you cannot allow this man to slack off even more than he already has!"
Linhard turned to the girl, raising a brow.
"Well, if you prefer, I could spend class time studying you rather than-"
Linhardt yelped as Lysithea stomped on his foot, effectively silencing him. Though, given what Byleth already knew, he could wager a guess as to where he was going with it.
"I'd ask that you refrain from studying your classmates." Byleth paused, rubbing the back of his head. "Though, I suppose I could give you a pass for napping this week… As long as you complete your work on time."
Linhardt smiled triumphantly, while Lysithea sighed.
"You're too soft, Professor," the girl grumbled, shaking her head.
Despite himself, Byleth let out a small chuckle at the two's antics. Both students looked surprised. It even surprised himself.
…Perhaps watching his two students bicker as they always did set his mind at ease, somewhat.
It was unfortunate that feeling couldn't last.
"Byleth!"
The professor lifted his head, his eyes immediately landing on his fast approaching father.
"You're okay," Jeralt sighed in relief, coming to a stop before him. "How are the kids?"
"They're all fine." Byleth nodded.
"Good." Jeralt smiled, his gaze lingering on the two students beside him. "…And the librarian?"
Byleth frowned, biting his cheek.
"He got away."
"Damn!" Jeralt hissed, banging a fist on his thigh. "Slippery bastard."
His father sighed, shaking his head. His anger dissipated quickly.
"But, all that matters is you're all safe."
"How are the others?" Byleth asked, tilting his head to look past the captain. "Are they all okay?"
"Yeah," Jeralt snorted, rubbing his head as he looked back at the front gate. "Solon's forces really did try to get to them, but that Manuela is something else. She had damn near slapped them all silly by the time Shamir and I arrived."
Byleth smirked. That sounded like the professor, alright.
"That's good to hear. I've got the rest of the class-"
"Sir! Sir!"
One of the surviving villagers ran up to them, cutting them off. The man must have been exhausted, because by the time he reached the four, he had to place his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
"Easy there, lad," Jeralt said, giving the man a few pats on the back. "Take a breather."
The villager tilted his head up to Byleth. His eyes were slightly red, as if he had been crying.
"Have you seen my wife? S-she wasn't with the others; I-I'm starting to worry… That white-haired girl said she'd look for her, b-but I haven't heard back from her yet!"
Edelgard?
She must have helped this man while he was preoccupied elsewhere.
…Though, what he said was concerning. Having the students search the village was only a formality. Byleth knew that there weren't any more survivors, but he couldn't live with himself if he didn't at least attempt to find others.
"What does she look like?"
"She-She's got long, brown hair, a-and she's about your age," the man answered, pointing to Byleth's face. "H-her name is Elizabeth."
Byleth flinched. Elizabeth…
He met his father's eyes. No words were spoken, but between that one, single look between father and son, Jeralt instantly understood.
"Please sir, you must find her! I-I don't know what I'd do if…"
The man trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut as he considered the worst. A stray tear broke free from his eye, trailing down his grimy face.
"Ah, damn…" Jeralt sighed, a hand on his brow. "Kids, could you give us a moment? I'm sure Manuela and Shamir could use you."
Linhardt and Lysithea shared a knowing look, both nodding and scurrying off.
Lysithea spared her professor a single glance as she left.
With the two gone, he took a step closer.
Byleth wetted his dry lips.
"What's your name, Sir?"
The man raised his head at the tone in Byleth's voice. His glassy eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape.
"M-Matthew…" He replied slowly. His lips stumbled over the name. More tears were forming in his eyes.
"Matthew…" Byleth frowned, biting his bottom lip. He struggled to get the next words out. "I… I am sorry."
"Huh?" The villager's eyes widened, his pupils darting back and forth between Byleth and his father. "W-why are you sorry? Why? Why would y-you be sorry? Why? Why?!"
The husband's face seemingly melted as he spoke. His words were slurred with unbridled emotion as his lips attempted to mouth them in quick succession, one after the other. Tears were streaming down his face.
He... got the picture.
"P-please…" Matthew's voice cracked as the anguish spilled into it. "Please don't tell me that my wife is…"
As Byleth met the man's turbulent eyes, his heart broke in two.
Because it was him, it was Byleth that had killed her.
"Your wife didn't make it."
"No…"
The man fell to his knees, but his face didn't move. His expression didn't change. He continued to stare at Byleth, the downfall of tears raining from his eyes.
"N-no…"
He began to shake as sobs wracked his body.
"No, no, no!"
The man clutched his head, openly sobbing as he curled to the ground.
Each sob, each cry, each wail, they all cut through Byleth more than any sword ever had. They hurt him more than any sharpened blade ever could.
"It… It was my fault," Byleth mumbled, his nails digging into his palms. "I was the one who-"
"Son, I'll take it from here."
Byleth turned to his father.
Jeralt shook his head.
"You go help your students. I'll handle this."
Byleth's gaze drifted to the man curled up on the ground. He was still crying… He had completely forgotten their existence.
He silently watched him for a few moments before tearing away. Byleth wasn't sure where his feet were taking him, but it was somewhere far away from here. Someone far away from the man.
He could hear Sothis speaking to him. Something about how it wasn't his fault; he only did what had to be done. If it wasn't for him, his wife would have killed Lysithea. He did what he had to, and he had saved his student in the process.
Despite how Byleth had treated her earlier, she tried her best to gently comfort him.
But her words went in one ear and out the other. They left his mind as quickly as they appeared. It was background noise, drowned out by the wails of the man that somehow had grown even louder the farther Byleth went.
The remains of Remire became a blur as Byleth moved through the village. The sight became blurrier and blurrier, and before he knew it, he was running.
Running, somewhere far away from here.
The Flame Emperor found Byleth far away from Remire Village; in the ring of trees that surrounded the settlement. His back was pressed up against the trunk of a great tree, his hands holding his head as he stared at the ground. His fingers were grabbing clumps of his blue hair, threatening to pull it from his scalp with how hard he was tugging.
His chest was bobbing up and down rapidly as he greedily gasped for air.
The professor hadn't even noticed her. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't heard the clanking of her armor, nor the crunching of the twigs and leaves as she approached.
Edelgard had originally planned to appear before he and Jeralt while wearing the disguise of the Flame Emperor. It was reiterating something she had already hinted at, but she thought it crucial to don that mask when she assured them that she had nothing to do with this. As the Flame Emperor was her other identity, it was important to let those two know that neither her, nor the Emperor, had any part in the destruction of Remire Village and its citizens.
But, seeing the state her professor was in… her resolve crumbled. Suddenly, her desire felt incredibly selfish while Byleth was like this. She couldn't bring herself to force this upon him. Not when he looked this… this frail.
What Byleth needed now was a friend… Not the Flame Emperor. Whatever she would do next could wait till later.
Slowly, Edelgard removed the helmet that covered her head. She placed it on the ground, behind a tree and out of sight. She removed the rest of the armor after that, placing it next to her helmet. Pieces of it weren't totally hidden by the tree trunk, but she hardly cared. It wasn't as if Byleth didn't already have an idea as to who the Flame Emperor was, anyways.
With the armor removed, she walked over to her professor.
Byleth still hadn't lifted his head.
"My teacher?"
No reply.
"…Byleth?"
At that, he flinched. There was a sharp intake of breath as he heard her speak his name.
"Edelgard," Byleth stated flatly, rubbing a glove across his nose. He still hadn't raised his head from the ground. "What are you doing here?"
There was no emotion in his voice. Nothing.
But it was so soft… so fragile. It sounded as if it could shatter at any second.
"I was looking for you."
Edelgard knelt in front of him, her brow furrowing as she watched him.
"Why are you out here, all alone?" She prodded lightly.
"I-I needed a moment," came the mumbled reply. "I didn't want the others to see me like this."
Despite the situation she found herself in, Edelgard felt a tiny smile form. That was certainly something Byleth would say. She remembered how he had always aspired to appear 'infallible' in front of his class. It was something he hadn't practiced as much as he became more open with them, but she was sure the sentiment was still there.
She also remembered the time Byleth had told her he didn't mind appearing weak in front of her.
Edelgard wondered if that still held true.
"Would you like me to leave-"
Byleth's hand shot out, snatching her own. She had to force herself not to jump at the sudden contact.
"No."
Byleth lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy. His face pale.
In all the days that she knew him, this was perhaps the most expressive she had ever seen him.
She had never seen him look so… broken.
"Please…" Byleth faltered, his voice cracking slightly. "Stay."
Edelgard nodded as she sat down across from him.
"Of course, Byleth."
Byleth blinked, looking down between his legs once more.
His fingers intertwined with hers as he squeezed her hand. Edelgard moved her other hand to rest on top of his.
Neither spoke another word. They simply sat there, all alone and tucked away from the rest of the world, holding each other's hand as they waited for the storm to pass.
And she would wait there with him for as long as he needed.
And there you have it! Thanks for reading everybody!
Phew, this one was doozy to write. Lots and lots of debate on how I wanted to conclude the battle at Remire. Easily the toughest chapter to date, but perhaps the most rewarding. Writing Byleth's slow descent has been, in a word, exquisite. Don't get me wrong, I'm no sadist, but damn if I don't love moments like these that really test the mettle of a character. And Byleth being Byleth, the unshakable man that constantly stares death in the face, it was really something to write him appearing so weak.
So much to discuss here. Where to begin? We got Byleth connecting more dots. Edelgard trying valiantly to salvage her position with him, only to disregard that when she realized Byleth needed someone. If you can't guess, that's why I was REALLY inspired to title this story "Love in the Dark." To me, one of Edelith's biggest draws is how these two stick together through some truly dark times. They love each other through some of their toughest moments. Even in other routes, where they're forced to fight one another, they still think of each other. I just think that's really cool! Expect to see some more comfort scenes later on!
Aaaand this is where I'm going to start deviating from the script somewhat. Not to say there will be some big, MASSIVE changes, but definitely some here and there. With the way I've written Byleth and Edelgard up to this point, it'd simply be illogical to write some of these coming scenes word for word. And, you know... the description does say "it's a path they take together." So, yeah. This hasn't been a 1:1 remake of the route, obviously, but expect some more deviation coming up! Hehe.
Before I go, last thing I'll touch on is "Fell Star." Honestly, cool title, but like zero explanation as to what it means. I'll break down the theory as to it's meaning here:
So in the Japanese version, Solon refers to Byleth as the "Calamity Star," which is translated to, you guessed it, Fell Star. The term is from Chinese astrology, where the four calamity stars are said to bring bad luck to people. And considering how Sothis essentially descended upon mankind and sort of messed everything up for the Agarthans, them calling Sothis the Fell or Calamity Star suddenly makes a lot more sense. And of course, this has the added bonus of the Slitherers apparently making the connection between Sothis and Byleth. There's a Reddit thread that goes more into it, so if you're curious just ask and I'll shoot it your way!
Anyhow, I'll see you all next time! As always, thank you all so very much. We broke 600 follows and 100k views! Holy smokes! Thanks you guys!
Oh, one last thing! Time to shill! If you haven't done so already, check out Sothis, How's That? by Nate-kun! Lovely little fic. If you're hungering for more Sothis and Byleth moments, boy does he got you covered.
