'Hey Leonie, me and Marianne are walking back to the dorms now. Are you coming?'

'Go on without me, I'll be a moment longer,' Leonie said, sitting in the dining hall. She heard the voice, but in truth she didn't know who it belonged to. She wasn't even sure if she'd heard the question right. Her eyes were fixed on the on the wooden charm in her hand. The one she'd worn around her neck since she was a child. The wooden one, which had since darkened with age; the one she'd received from her hero.

She caressed it with her thumb, feeling the thin scratches that'd formed on it over the years. They gave the charm "character", is what her mother used to say, and over time, she'd began to appreciate that idea more and more. It was small, but it was the best gift she'd ever received, because it'd come from Jeralt the Blade Breaker, the greatest knight to ever live. It wasn't just that he was so strong or successful in his work, but it was also his character, his honour and touch of class that she believed that everyone surely respected.

Everyone it seemed, except his "son".

'I can't imagine how embarrassed and hurt Captain Jeralt will feel when he hears about what happened. His own son disrespected him.'

Ignatz couldn't tell if she was talking to him or to herself. He watched her brow furrow and her face redden, and decided it was the latter.

'Let's go Marianne,' he whispered. Marianne, who'd been staring into space followed him wordlessly towards the exit. Leonie didn't hear them leave. Her thoughts were elsewhere.

On Byleth, the supposed son of Jeralt.

'When I next see Byleth, Jeralt,' she murmured. 'I'm going to make sure he understands just how much he's hurt you.'

She put the charm back around her neck, afraid she'd break it in anger if she didn't.

'How is the professor? May we see him?' Edelgard asked, following Seteth down the corridor.

The man shook his head, still walking. 'He is still resting in the infirmary. For now, however, I think it best that he be left alone.'

'The professor won't be fired, will he?' Dimitri asked. 'I can assure you that what you saw in the training ground is not a true reflection of his ability.'

'Agreed,' Claude said. 'It's Caspar who should be punished, not him.'

'I have nothing to say at this moment,' Seteth said.

'I think there was something wrong with him at the time,' Edelgard said.

'You already told me that.'

'But please keep that in your consideration.'

Seteth stopped and faced the three house leaders. 'Your opinions are noted. For now though, I must ask you to keep your distance from him and to refrain from discussing it with your classmates. I recommend you turn your intention to more important matters, such as the upcoming mock battle.'

'Will Byleth still lead our class in the battle?' Edelgard asked.

Seteth shook his head. 'I shall oversee the Black Eagle class until a decision has been made on the new professor. Now, it is late, I advise you all to get some rest.'

The man turned and walked down the corridor again. Edelgard watched him go, feeling blood rush to her face.

It was his need to use the restroom that eventually made Byleth get out of bed.

He was stiff and sore but moving okay. Carefully, he unbuckled his armour and undressed down to his shirt and shorts and then moved towards the restroom. He felt better than he'd done that morning except for the knock to his head and the bruise on his stomach (which Moira said had been given to him by a kick from Caspar after he'd fallen unconscious.)

But my battle injuries aren't the reason why I'm in the infirmary-

His outstretched leg, his left one, started tingling.

'No,' he breathed. He took another step towards the restroom and his right leg started as well. He cursed, not because the sensations were painful, they weren't (not yet anyway), but because they were there at all. Previously, he'd had to exert himself forcefully in some way to feel them, this time he'd brought them on just by walking.

Whatever it was, it was getting worse.

His mind raced, wondering why his condition had worsened so rapidly in the space of a day. The only answer he could muster was what Moira had said that he'd badly aggravated the issue fighting Caspar, but even that felt wrong.

But then what other explanation is there?

His breathing started to quicken. He put a hand on his stomach and forced himself to take a deep breath in. 'Healing magic will kick in. The nurse said it would.'

But I was already healed in Remire and it didn't work.

He shook his head. With each step he took the tingling became more prominent. When he reached the restroom, he saw a wooden wash basin with buckets of water and an ewer on one side. He stared at it and a realisation crashed over him.

I don't think I can even wash myself.

A short while later he'd stripped off his armour down to his shirt and shorts and had started what felt like a long and precarious journey back to his bed. As he moved, a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his forehead.

The tingling sensations in his legs were becoming pricklier. On his fourth step, he started to feel lightheaded.

'No.'

He took another step and the bed ahead of him grew fuzzy around the edges. The prickling pain rose from his legs up through his abdomen. He cursed. He reached the bed and lowered himself down at an agonisingly slow pace. He lay on his back and remained still, waiting for the sensations to pass.

'It's getting worse,' he mumbled again.

He thought about his pain. His sensations were like boiling water in a pot. When he'd moved, the water had started to boil and had grown more violent as he'd moved. If he'd moved for too long, the water would've boil over, bringing on the horrible stabbing pains and dizziness that he'd awoken with each morning and had felt in the training ground. In this instance, he'd avoided the water boiling over because he'd stopped moving and so it'd cooled. That was good, but it meant little compared to the realisation that he could now hardly walk.

And what about tomorrow? Just how much worse will my condition get? Will simply moving my arms make the water boil?

As if mocking him, Moira brought in a tear-stricken student, who clenched his shoulder, and sat him on the opposite bed. Moira moved his hand from his shoulder and replaced it with hers, making him screw up his face and let out a whine. Her hand started to glow. It was dim at first, and then it grew into a bright gold colour that made Byleth squint his eyes. After a few moments, the light flickered and faded and the boy un-scrunched his face. He poked his shoulder and swung his arm. He thanked the nurse and skipped to the exit with a dumb smile on his face. He momentarily flickered his eyes in Byleth's direction and then opened the door.

Byleth watched him go. The boy had been healed, and yet he himself couldn't be.

Moira turned to him. 'Has the healing magic kicked in yet?'

He shook his head and told her about his journey to the restroom. Her eyes widened for a moment, and it made his stomach twist.

'Rest tonight, and we'll see how it is tomorrow. Hopefully by then the healing magic will have kicked in. I'll give you vulneraries in the meantime and that will hopefully help with the pain.'

She left and returned a short while later with a tray holding a cup of water and a plate of chicken and rice. She set the tray down on his bedside table and then mixed a potion on the nearby counter. She gave them to him in a second cup to drink.

'In this concoction there is also antitoxin to make sure there's no poison in your body.'

'Poison?'

Moira nodded. 'Just as a precaution. Poison would normally see your condition deteriorate rapidly within a few hours or a day at most, and no known type of poison causes the symptoms you describe. Still, I believe it is worth being on the safe side since you believe the pain has gotten worse.'

Byleth brought the cup to his lips, feeling the prickling sensations ripple in his arms as he did so.

Even eating and drinking is becoming harder.

'Continue to rest and I shall be back tomorrow morning. If you need me just ring the bell by your bed.'

Byleth watched the woman shuffle towards the exit.

'Does my da-Jeralt, know what's happened to me?'

Moira turned and shook her head. 'He is away with Lady Rhea. If you wish to send a messenger you will need to ask Seteth tomorrow. Good night.'

She blew out the candles except the one on his bedside table, leaving only the moon's illumination through the window as the other source of light. She then hung his armour up in the corner and then exited the room, closing the door behind her. He raised his hands to his face.

'W-What's wrong with me?'

He remained still for a long time, trying to keep his breathing slow but failing. He felt the urge to yawn and that's when his breathing worsened.

'I don't w-want to sleep.'

Stupid Bernie! You got scared in the training ground today.

'B-But there were s-so many people.'

You were scared because there were lots of people in the training ground? You're such a coward! Edelgard will be so angry with you!

Bernadetta rolled over in her bed and exhaled, trembling.

'I-I don't want to be here.'

Useless, worthless, unmarriageable!

For the third night in a row, Bernadetta cried herself to sleep, digging her fingernails into her palms.