BACKSTORY
7th Pegasus Moon, 1171
Rain spat down and a cold wind whipped his face. Below him, the wet grass shone in the moon's illumination. He cast his eyes up at the dark clouds, and then back down.
"He's not normal, he'll never make friends or fall in love"-
On that night in the village, he heard footsteps slosh in the puddles of water behind him.
The person, the man, stepped beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"For all we know, his lack of a heartbeat might mean he dies sooner than the rest of us."
The man who stood with his hand on his shoulder was his father.
"You're a freak"-
"You'd be called the Walking Corpse Act"
Jeralt squeezed his shoulder, but he hardly noticed. He continued to stare downward.
"My point is that you worry about his feelings and emotions, but I don't think he has much of either.'-
"… you're grasping for things in him that aren't there, you want him to be normal but he never will be."
'Kid, I'm so sorry,' Jeralt said, squeezing his shoulder.
The Ashen Demon looked up at his father in the rain. The man cried, yet he didn't.
"He's an empty shell…lifeless."
Jeralt continued to cry in the pouring rain.
The Ashen Demon watched his father cry and then looked back down.
He gazed at the three stones in the small clearing. Beneath each one lay soil, upon which grass and flowers had been scattered. There were seventeen flowers of different colours at one stone, nineteen on another and sixteen on the final one. He knew because he'd counted them over the countless hours he'd stood over them.
'T-They were so p-proud of you,' Jeralt said.
The Ashen Demon read the names carved into each of the stones again. One said "Alain Deschain", one "Arthur Wright", and the final one, the one in the middle was "Lilia Colleville".
He stared at the middle one the longest.
"Is everything alright, Byleth?"
"-thump-thump."
Byleth refused to open his eyes. In fact, he mashed them closed tighter, because he knew where he was.
He couldn't hear the voice yet, but he didn't need to. He inhaled the warm, stuffy air in trembling breaths, and felt the smooth, surface of the step below his hands and knees. He didn't need to open his eyes to know what step he was on either, he knew already.
He was on the final stone step.
'No… no'-
"In time's flow… see the glow of flames ever burning bright….'
His stomach twisted in knots. He bent over and wretched, his chest and throat searing.
'Haaa…,' the voice yawned.
When his body couldn't force up anymore, he crawled away from the voice, his eyes still mashed closed, but no matter how far he went, the voice remained just as loud and the final stone step remained under his hands and knees.
Tomorrow, he would be at the top. There was no doubt in his mind.
'Where… are…,' the voice continued, making goosebumps break out on his skin. He felt with his hands towards one of the corners of the stone step and yanked at it. The stone sank into his skin, making blood dribble down his stinging palm, but he only gripped it harder, yanking with all of his might. Soon, he accomplished what he'd set out to do.
He'd managed to pull a small fragment of the stone away.