I haven't even graded the first round of assignments, and the first mock battle is only days away.

I think back to the calendar from the game, that screen that showed the length of time you would have to prepare your students before each mission. If I remember right, you only got one weekend or so before that first battle—certainly not a long time, but even so, the time evaporates when you're still trying to get your feet under you.

Byleth is finishing a lesson with the Golden Deer, assigning them reading for the next class and questions to answer, when unexpected visitors arrive. Rhea stands by the doorway, next to a clergyman who I don't recognize. He must be important to be in the company of the archbishop, and to my logic, his elaborate garments confirm this conclusion. The tall hat and gleaming breastplate, with oversized pauldrons, would make him hard to lose in a crowd, but even his long layers of robes glisten as the gold and silver braid catches the afternoon sun here and there.

I open my mouth reflexively to say something, though when I do I'm not sure if I mean to greet them or warn Byleth. Warn is a curious way of thinking about it, I think to myself. Before I can form any words or start out of my chair at the side of the room, my eyes turn to Byleth, who regards the pair wordlessly, only acknowledging Rhea with a subtle nod.

Neither Rhea nor her guest continues further while Byleth finishes explaining the assignment.

Some of the students peer over their shoulders to gawk at the visitors, but they all turn around immediately when they see the Archbishop there. Only a few more minutes pass before Byleth dismisses the students. But from my position, glued to my seat, observing everything while trying to look normal, it feels like hours.

Believe me, I don't want to have a little panic attack every time I pass Rhea in the halls, but I've never felt the kind of cosmic authority that she commands. This time, even from across the room, it doesn't just activate my animal instincts—it exerts some fundamental force, raw physics pinning me down like an astronaut under ten G's. But Byleth withstands that magnetic push and pull. Either that, or her whole social system is tuned to a wholly different frequency that she doesn't even perceive it.

The students file out of the classroom. Most only give Rhea and her guest a quick, perfunctory acknowledgement. Only once the students have all left does the Archbishop enter the classroom proper. The clergyman follows closely behind.

Byleth turns to face them, and I scramble out of my chair to stand. Better not to accidentally cause any insult—that is, assuming I haven't already done so.

"Professor Byleth Eisner," Rhea says, smiling at her with a warmth that drops a solid twenty degrees when she looks at me. "Assistant Professor. Allow me the pleasure of introducing the Bishop of the Eastern Church, Ernest von Daphnel."

"Hello, Bishop Daphnel," Byleth replies. "It's nice to meet you."

Daphnel pulls his lips into a tight line before speaking. "The feeling is mutual, Professor," he says. "There's so much I've heard about you." I swear I can see his eyes flit over in my direction for a moment, but he doesn't say anything to me.

"Many people have said this," Byleth says simply. I glance over to her for a moment, and once again, I can't tell if it's her own brand of, well, obliviousness—to put perhaps too harsh a word on it—or something else, a deeper keenness.

"No doubt they have," Daphnel replies. "I suppose it's just something rather unexpected, to see a humble mercenary charged with the solemn duty of educating the next leaders of our fair Alliance. And one so young! Why, you're hardly older than the students yourself."

Oh, so he came to fight, did he? Maybe it's just the usual noble privilege talking, but I'm fairly confident that he's here on real business. Likely, he was sent at the behest of the Alliance nobles to raise a stink after the whole Goneril incident. If word got out about that, and it certainly has, it would be a serious humiliation for all of Leicester, one that would not be left without some form of reprisal, overt or subtle.

"The Professor is no mere mercenary, my dear Bishop," Rhea says. "She is the daughter of our very own Captain Jeralt, the Blade Breaker himself. She has extensive practical experience and unparalleled training. Byleth may be young, but she is more than qualified for the duty that has been set out for her."

Daphnel strokes his chin. "That's as may be, but where does that leave the assistant?" He waves a hand in my direction.

"It has not been uncommon for literate servants and monks to assist with the administrative functions of the Officers Academy," Rhea replies. "We simply saw fit to create a dedicated position for the work."

"And fill it with the fool who ousted the old professor," Daphnel says. "You must know how this looks, Archbishop Rhea."

Rhea frowns. "I did not bring you here to listen to you question my judgment, Bishop," she says, emphasizing the man's title and, with it, her own superiority.

The Bishop stiffens. Even a man as used to getting what he wants as he probably is still has to react to her power. "No, no, Your Eminence—my apologies. I did not mean anything of the sort."

"Then what did you mean?"

He gives Rhea an almost sad smile. "Rumors, they spread far and wide, like leaves upon the wind. Members of my flock talk of upheaval in the Officers Academy—you all know why, of course. At first, they merely wanted answers, but now, they fear that the Central Church seeks to punish all the Leicester nobility for that unfortunate business with the old professor."

"And what do you think of those fears, Bishop?"

"A ridiculous notion, no doubt, Your Eminence," he says. "Yet it is my duty as Bishop of the Eastern Church to intercede on behalf of my parishioners. I am grateful for the chance to meet your new appointees and judge their qualities myself."

"You will not find Professor Byleth lacking," Rhea replies. "I have a proposal, Bishop. I invite you to stay for a few more days and watch the upcoming mock battle. You will have the chance to witness Professor Byleth and the Golden Deer in action."

"I have no desire to impede upon your hospitality, Archbishop Rhea. And I am sure my presence—"

"I insist," Rhea says, mustering up her best approximation of saccharine over-politeness. "You are right, Bishop. The fears and doubts of your flock are unfounded, but Professor Byleth's performance during the mock battle will assuredly put them to rest once and for all. If you are telling me there are doubts and fears among the good people of Leicester, then this is a state of affairs that cannot continue."

The bishop swallows his comment and nods. "Your Eminence presents a compelling argument."

"I am glad we are in agreement," Rhea replies. "I apologize for taking your time, Professor Byleth. The Bishop and I must be off."

The bishop nods again and gives a slight bow in our general direction. "A pleasure, Professors. I look forward to seeing your performance at the mock battle."

"Thank you," Byleth says.

And with that, the Archbishop and her subordinate disappear, leaving Byleth and I alone and in silence.

I exhale sharply. It's never going to get any easier, not with Rhea and with anyone else here.

I guess some naive part of me hoped that Byleth picking me as her assistant would shore up my precarious position. Everyone in the game loved Byleth. She could do no wrong. She's basically the fucking Messiah, and you don't have to take her strategy class to know that betting against her is a losing proposition—and hitching your wagon to hers a winning one.

But that's a sunny reality presented to the player in a video game. In this live-action remake, as it were, things are more complicated. There's more angles and more players, all with their own thoughts and goals and loyalties. It's like the difference between tic tac toe and, well, Fire Emblem. Just thinking about it makes my head spin.

Now, I don't think I have any reason to think the Eastern Bishop would cause serious problems for Byleth, or for the world, unless my existence and my interference—my untimely, impromptu disposal of the former Professor Goneril—have already disrupted the choreography of the story of Three Houses. But even if this Bishop guy's complaining to Rhea changes nothing for Byleth or the world, it could still change things for me. Byleth won't have any problems proving her competence and worth—again, Messiah—but me…

"Well, now's as good a time as any to sit down and prepare for the battle," I say. "After that pep talk, I feel like we really have no choice but to win."

Byleth just nods. "Seteth has told me more about how the battle will work. The battle will be three-sided between all three houses at once. Each house can field up to five combatants. I expect the Black Eagles to have both Edelgard and Manuela on the field and likewise both Dimitri and Hanneman with the Blue Lions."

"That makes sense," I reply. So far, everything's gelling with what I remember from the game. No surprises here.

Byleth continues. "So, two of our five spots will go to me and Claude. That leaves three left."

I expect her to go on, but she doesn't. She just looks at me expectantly, giving me the same expression that she does to the students in class—the tacit, if awkward, encouragement to fill in the blank and try solving the question for yourself.

"Well, with an archer and a sword fighter, you'll need some magical support. Ideally, a healer and an offensive mage."

Byleth nods. "Who?"

"Marianne and Lysithea are probably our best bets at those right now, to be honest."

"Right now," Byleth repeats. "Others may have potential, too. But for now, agreed. So me, Claude, Marianne, and Lysithea. One left."

I bite my lip while I consider what I want to say next, turning over the big question in my mind: Do I nominate myself? It may not be the most tactical choice. It may not even be allowed by Seteth and Rhea. But the words of that bishop echo in my mind. He was sent here to stir up shit, but the fact that he used me as a wedge was deliberate. Could proving myself in this battle start to shut people like him up?

"This might be an unconventional pick—" I begin.

Byleth wastes no time cutting me off. "No," she says. "You will not participate in the battle."

I blink. She read my mind! "Wow. That's impressive," I reply.

Byleth shrugs. "A lucky guess, perhaps."

"Can I ask why not?"

"Yes. There are three reasons."

I nod. "Alright, hit me."

"First, I want this battle to be about the students. I want them to win by their efforts. I don't want you or me to distract from that, as much as we can avoid it. I will give them the same support as our colleagues in the other houses will, but in the end, the students will carry the day."

I fold my arms. I admit I hadn't thought of it, preoccupied as I am with my own situation, but, fine. "I guess I can't argue with that," I say. "What else?"

"The second reason is that it's tactically unsound," Byleth says. "I know you know this. What is our team composition missing? What does our last member need to bring to the group?"

I take a breath. I knew that she was right on this point, even before I raised my suggestion, but I didn't really want to eat my own words in front of her. "More physical power. Staying power, especially." No use trying to explain "tankiness" in a pre-World War I world, but I got across what I wanted to say easily enough. "I know I don't have that."

"Right," Byleth replies. "I had Raphael in mind."

I sigh again. "Fair enough," I reply. "But wait. What if you had Raphael as the fifth slot, but went with me instead of you?"

"You think you can replace me on the battlefield?"

I cringe at myself, realizing what I just said. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that, just—" I take another breath. "You've been teaching me a little swordfighting, I've been practicing magic with Hanneman—I just want to show that I'm getting somewhere, that I deserve—that I can stand alongside you and the students."

"I understand," Byleth says quietly. "And you are getting somewhere. But the third, and, to tell the truth, most important reason, Harrison, is that you are not ready."

The words hit me with the searing coldness of dry ice. Somehow, I recognize it as plainly obvious and incontrovertibly true—it's the assessment of not only an expert, but basically a demigod. But I can't accept it, because it won't be long before people start dying around me, and will I still not be ready then? This is nothing compared to what's coming!

"Not ready," I repeat. "Not ready to, what, stand by the kids in a training battle? How is that different from what we already do? I mean, between your weapon classes and our own house we practically have our own little mock battle every day!"

"You are not ready," Byleth insists. "You need more practice and training. In time you will develop the confidence of a fighter."

"In time? I don't have time."

Byleth cocks her head. "Why such a rush?" she replies.

"Because I need to prove that there's a reason that the Archbishop keeps me around, that she doesn't shove me off one of those cliffs."

"The reason she keeps you around is because I want to keep you around."

Well, to put in so many words, yes, Byleth, you hit the nail on the head. "Yeah, but they don't know or don't get why."

"I could tell them," she suggests.

"You could try," I reply. "But I hoped maybe I could show them. Before they continue to 'just ask questions' me back to jail."

She just nods, and I wonder if I should say something more. I want to say, "because four fucking weeks from now we will be fighting literal hardened violent criminals to the death", but that's a little too much to get into now.

"And, well, you know what happened on the last mission the house leaders were out on. You were there. I don't know what's coming up after this mock battle." Well, I have an idea, but the map is hardly the territory when it comes to that. "I'll need to be ready for anything."

"You won't do anything you're not ready for."

Her voice rings out through the classroom with a solid finality to it. She's made up her mind.

"Will I ever be ready for anything?"

"That depends on you," she says.

I exhale again. "Fine," I reply, clenching my fists. The marks made by my fingernails digging into my palms are definitely going to last till tomorrow. "You're the boss."

I quickly gather my things together and get ready to leave. Thank God we're done for the day, because I don't know how I could do any training now.

"I'll see you later," Byleth says.

"Yeah," I reply breathlessly.

That depends on you.

Maybe I acted a little childishly, pouting at Byleth overruling my suggestion. Her reasons for doing so would be sound to any observer. It wasn't personal—Byleth wasn't out to get me. I don't think she has the capability of being out to get anyone at this point. It was about what was best for the students and the efforts of the House in the mock battle. And when it comes to this battle, I'm just not it. It would be dishonest to pretend otherwise.

As I'm walking through the hallway, I nearly collide with Manuela.

"Oh, my," she says breathlessly as she recovers.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Professor!" I get on my knees and help her gather up her papers.

Manuela takes them with one hand and with the other, wags a finger at me with mock scorn. "If I didn't know better, I might have thought you meant to do that."

"I swear, I didn't," I reply. "I've just got a lot on my mind."

"Mm," Manuela says, nodding. "I've been told I can be a lot."

I chuckle, but still feel a faint warmth spreading over my face. "No, no, not like that."

"I'm only teasing," she says. "I bet you and Byleth are hard at work getting ready for the mock battle, hm?"

"Something like that," I reply. "Though I won't be participating. As a combatant, I mean."

"Oh?" Manuela raises an eyebrow. "Was that some juicy tactical information you just gave to me, free of charge?"

The warmth intensifies. "Well, maybe, I guess," I mutter, shaking my head. "Look, it doesn't really matter."

"You seem a bit put out by the whole business, though."

Put out makes me sound like a petulant child, but I suppose it isn't too far off the mark, after all.

I sigh. "A bit. I just want to pull my own weight, you know?"

Manuela nods, and puts a finger on her chin. "Actually, I've got an idea for something you can do even without being in the battle."

"What's that?"

"You can be on standby for healing any injuries," she says.

I tilt my head at her incredulously. "Are you serious? I've never cast faith magic before. I'm just starting to get to grips with reason magic. I couldn't heal anyone."

"There's a lot more to healing than just magic, you know," she says. "You won't be alone, anyhow. There'll be some priests watching out, and the point of the battle isn't to get anyone seriously roughed up one way or another. But I'll teach you a thing or two."

We spend the afternoon going over the basics of healing. Most of it is non-magical, actually—straight out of a regular first aid class. Keeping wounds clean, applying pressure to stop bleeding, that sort of thing.

"Magic and elixirs and all that are very exciting, but if you don't get the little details right, they can complicate things," she says. "They speed up the body's natural healing, put a little spring in the step of your life force. They don't, for example, make arrowheads disappear, or reset a dislocated shoulder."

I nod. "So, you're saying these techniques help prepare the patient so that the magic has the best chance to work right."

"Exactly," Manuela says. "The magic just makes the recovery quicker, neater, less exhausting, and less painful. To that end, your medical knowledge is just as important."

She gives me a crash course on different ways to tie bandages, improvised slings, that sort of thing—basically anything to help people hang on till a real healer can seal the deal with judicious application of magic.

"Thanks, Professor," I say as we start to wind things down. "I didn't appreciate how important all this was to healing. I feel a lot more prepared to take care of the students—I mean, you know. If anything happens."

She nods. "I think we've still got a little time left. If you're up for it, I could start you on the magical side of things."

I take a deep breath and think about it. I've already learned a lot today. I don't want to overdo it. And do you need to be a believer in the Goddess to use faith magic? I mean, if I'm remembering the game right, the Agarthans get healers toward the endgame, and they're certainly no fans of Sothis or her children. But I don't know where I slot into all of that. If, for whatever reason, I can't pull it off, will that just expose me further? I like to think Manuela would be understanding—after all, she saw everything that went down in that trial—but I can't afford to raise unnecessary suspicion on me.

"Professor," I begin carefully, "you know I'm not exactly a local. I wasn't raised in the faith of the Church. Wouldn't that compromise my ability to use this kind of magic?"

"That's a very good question," she says. "I'm not sure myself."

"Huh?"

"Everyone I've met who is a skilled user of faith magic is rather devout, yes," she says. "Many are involved with the church themselves. But it's not as if the Goddess answers our prayers directly. It is by her grace that we humans may use the power to reach out with our souls to one another."

"I'm not sure I follow," I reply.

"Let me put it this way. You're already coming with a bit of experience from Reason magic, from your studying with Hanneman. Tell me, how does any Reason spell start?"

"With a magic circle."

"In that way, faith and reason magic are alike," she says. "But how do you control Reason magic?"

"Well, I'm not an expert yet," I begin, thinking back to my readings on magical theory that have started to fall by the wayside. "But, you focus on the symbols. Selecting them in the right combination, combining that with the visualization of your will—it's the interplay between those factors that gives the magic shape and form and brings it out of the circle under your control."

"Spoken like a sage," she replies. "Well, I've got good news and bad news."

That's some bedside manner, doc. "Yeah?"

"The good news is you won't have to bother with any of that nonsense when it comes to faith magic. There's no need to memorize all those grubby little runes, or look up which ones to use when in some dusty chart."

"Alright," I say hesitantly. "So what's the bad news? If there's no symbols, there's gotta be some other way to control the magic, right?"

"Sharp as ever," she says. "Here's the thing. In faith magic, you're trying to key into the life force of the person you're trying to heal—their soul. If you can use your will, your own soul, to open up the connection, that gives the magic a path forward to heal them."

"Okay," I say, nodding. "So you're saying that the Goddess doesn't need to get involved?"

"In a manner of speaking," she replies carefully. "She is our sustainer, our provider. When I use faith magic, I think of her support as the anchor which holds me fast and gives me the strength and steadiness to support others. I remind myself that we are all her children, all in her sight. It's not about rituals or prayers. It really is about faith."

I'm not sure I can do that, which to me sounds like the exact opposite of faith.

"Stupid question, maybe, but, how do you do that?"

She chuckles. "How do you get to the Mittelfrank Opera House?"

I furrow my brow. Huh? That's not answering my question at all.

"Practice, practice, practice," she says. She pulls out a small scalpel and cleans it.

"Uh, Professor," I say. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you something to start with."

She takes the scalpel and nicks her palm with the slightest of winces, and shows me the result. It's a small, clean incision, blood beginning to well up almost immediately.

"The wound is clean," she says. "I know because I made it. Now heal me."

"Professor, I—"

"You wanted to train, didn't you? There's no better teacher than example. Heal me—you can do it."

Well, shit. I take a moment to steady my nerves and focus on calling up the magic circle. It appears before me, just like I would when trying Fire. So far, so good.

"Now, reach out to my soul with yours," she says. "Feel it in your heart. Search for it."

I'm still not really clear on what she means by this, but I try to focus. I look at Manuela. Her soul? Mine? I'm not the most spiritual type—hell, I'm a scientist by education. So if you're going to talk to me about souls and spirit connections, I need some way to observe it. My five senses just aren't cutting it.

I keep doing my best to shut out distractions, focus on my breathing, just like I did with Hanneman. I can sort of feel the ambient magic bubbling up through the interface of the circle, just like I do with reason magic. But without the aid of the symbols and a clear, precise vision for the goal, it just seems to fizzle out beneath my grasp, falling through my fingertips into nothingness like ethereal grains of sand.

The magic circle quickly fades.

"Again," Manuela instructs, a bit of a cold edge creeping into her voice. "Remember why it's called Faith magic—we're all children of the Goddess. We're all connected by that, part of a larger whole. If you can find me through that connection, you can heal me."

I try again and focus on what she's saying. But I'm no child of the Goddess. I'm not part of this larger group she's thinking of—I'm an outsider, and I always will be. I'm alone. The children of the Goddess are people like that bishop. People like Rhea, or Byleth, depending on how literal you want to get with this sort of thing. Forgive me for not having any faith when the odds are stacked against me like this.

This time, the magic dissipates even faster than it did before.

"Clearly, your heart isn't in it," she says.

"Professor, I'm sorry," I say.

"If I didn't know better, I would be tempted to think you didn't care if I bled out!"

"I do care! I'm sorry!"

Manuela doesn't say anything, and with practiced ease uncorks a small bottle for another. She downs maybe half of it, then pours the rest over her wound. She exhales sharply.

I sigh and put my head in my hands. "I wish you asked me if I was ready before you started, you know, hurting yourself for the sake of teaching me."

"If I did ask, you'd never say you were," she says.

"Well clearly, I'm not," I reply.

"Oh, come now," Manuela says. "Are you really going to give up that easily?"

"I don't know if it's a question of giving up. Maybe you really have to be a devout adherent to use faith magic."

She shakes her head. "I've seen kids mumble their way through weekly services—or not attend at all—and cast healing magic with aplomb," she says. "It's not a question of religious fervor. It's about feeling it in here." She points to her heart.

I don't say anything.

"Look, I know you've had a long day," she says. "I probably shouldn't have pushed you so hard today. Rest up and think about it, okay? I'll be here if you want to try again, any time. Don't you worry about my hand, alright?"

"All right," I reply. "If you're sure."

"I am sure, dear," she says. "Are you still going to help out with the healers at the battle?"

"Yes, if you'll let me," I say. "Just in a non-magical capacity."

"Good!" she replies. "They'll be glad to have you."

I dunno about that, I think to myself. I'll have to keep my failures with healing magic close to the vest until I learn more about what exactly went wrong—or if it's just completely closed off to heathens like me.

I can't stop thinking about my humiliating failures today—first, how Byleth completely shut down my attempt to participate in the mock battle. Then, when I tried to make up for it by learning healing magic, I failed miserably at that, too.

Is there any way I can learn faith magic? I keep turning over Manuela's words from our training session, her words on how to tap into it. She kept talking about everyone being children of the Goddess, and that being the basis for the connection between souls. Sure, I thought, I'm not a child of the Goddess. But she didn't seem to think that was a place to give up. Should I?

Being connected through the common bonds of faith is just one thing—a very important thing—that people have in common. But it's not the only spiritual connection that could exist. What do I have in common with Manuela, with anyone else who I might be trying to heal?

We're human. Homo sapiens. Well, excepting Seteth, Flayn, and Rhea, and the fact that last I checked, there weren't any naturally pink or blue-haired members of the species, but it's close enough for me. I can take it up with the taxonomists later.

Oh, come on, that's silly, I think. That's basic. Obvious. If that's all it took to tap into faith magic, anyone could do it.

Manuela did say she saw most any student able to do some of it, though.

So maybe it's worth a try?

I call up the magic circle hesitantly, keeping my mind clear of any symbols or visions that would be appropriate for reason magic. I'm not trying to do anything specific.

I focus on my new mantra. We're all humans. Me, a hairless monkey, reaching out through the ether through my other hairless monkeys. Anyone out there?

Woah. Apparently there is.

The feedback through the circle is something I feel and sense. It's the vague feeling you get when you know someone is in the room next door even if you can't see or hear anyone. That connection starts to coalesce into something almost, but not quite, tangible. Already, this is way more progress than I made with Manuela.

Let's pull the thread a bit more.

We're not just all human. We've got the same chemistry—we use oxygen from the air and exhale carbon dioxide. We've got the same biology, or something close enough to it. Proteins, sugars, lipids, DNA—if we didn't, I wouldn't be able to digest the food here. We have to eat, drink, and sleep. And the same psychology, too—desires, emotions, fears, hopes, and dreams. They're all part of the human experience we share.

We are stardust: the same carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen, phosphorus and sulfur recycled around and around this world, that miraculously give rise to the infinite variety and beauty of life and the human experience. That's how it worked on Earth, and I see no reason to think it works differently here, magic or no.

There is an undeniable connection, a commonality that cannot be ignored, even before a God or Goddess figures into it.

Suddenly, it's like a light flips on for me. It's the same revelation I first had when I tried Reason magic, but it's almost like it's along another axis, in another dimension. I feel this electric connection, almost like that infectious energy at a concert full of fans singing the same songs, or a stadium full of people cheering, or, yes, even a religious service—where people feel that they are part of this community that extends far beyond them.

They have faith in what they are doing and faith in each other, and it's those connections that are the channels through which the magic works. No doubt those who are devout in their faith see it all in terms just like Manuela—children of the Goddess and all that. The stronger that belief, the stronger the connection. I've just backdoored my way into it with some hippy dippy takes on high school-level science—but they're hippy-dippy takes that somewhere, deep down, I earnestly believe.

We are stardust, we are golden, we are billion-year-old carbon.

The inherent power in that is, in its own way, staggering. This kind of power clearly has a lot of potential for good, which is what I'm trying to do with it, but I can see how it's got so much potential for evil as well. I can think of plenty of bad guys who are all-too-faithful in their role in grand, sinister designs. No doubt that's how the Agarthans have their own access to faith-based magic, as they do in the game itself.

I don't know if Manuela or anyone else will actually let me try it out so soon, but I feel more confident in my ability to actually try healing magic if it came down to it. We'll just have to see if I get the opportunity. If not, I'll be the best non-magical healer I can be. It's all that anyone will let me do, and I'll need to do whatever I can to prove myself worthy of sticking around.

—

The day of the mock battle comes. As we head over to the training field where the battle will take place, I tell Byleth that I'm planning to help out the healers, as per Manuela's encouragement.

"I don't mean to not support you or anything like that," I explain. "Since I'm not actually participating in the battle, this is probably the best way for me to help out as a faculty member. And I think it's good if I learn more about healing, get some practical experience. I hope that all makes sense to you."

"It does," is all she says.

"Good luck out there," I say. "You'll knock 'em dead. Or, well, don't, please."

I swear I can see the corners of Byleth's lips curl up into the slightest of smiles, but you'd need an instant replay to notice it.

All three houses assemble on a large training field. Rhea introduces the festivities, the houses split up, and I head over to the healer's tent. To one side of us, the important spectators assemble: Rhea, Seteth, a few other knights and leaders, including Catherine and the Eastern Bishop that Byleth and I met a few days ago. I guess he really did take up Rhea on her invitation—not that she's the kind of person you can easily refuse, I suppose. To the other side, the remaining students not in the fight form up to watch their comrades in battle. Part of the rules is that they can't interfere in the battle or signal anything to their housemates, so Shamir and a few other knights watch them diligently to shut down any of that.

Byleth takes the lead rallying the kids while I get settled in with the other healers. By now, more and more monks from the monastery are beginning to recognize me—or my reputation is preceding me. Manuela briefly steps away from the Black Eagles to introduce me, but even so, I get little more welcome than politely strained smiles.

When Rhea declares the battle begun, I strain to get a good look at what's going on. I can't make out the details, but I think I see Byleth and the Deer approaching the Black Eagles, weaving their way through the magic attacks laid down by Dorothea . Claude, Lysithea and Marianne return fire in force, knocking them down and giving Byleth and Raphael the openings needed to finish them off in melee. Edelgard and Ferdinand valiantly rally and close ranks with Byleth directly, but she weaves between their attacks, deftly knocking one then the other off their feet with her sword. It doesn't take much longer before Manuela is taken out of the fight as well.

Byleth certainly makes it look easy. Maybe she was right—maybe I wasn't ready. I'm sure the nuances of her movements are going over my head, and I don't know if I could have responded so fluidly and dynamically, even in this small situation. I sigh.

While the Deer regroup to take on the Blue Lions, the Black Eagles slowly make their way to the healer's tent. I head to the front to greet them.

"Hey," I call out to them. "Nice try, guys."

Edelgard and Dorothea seem to perk up a bit at seeing me. Hubert furrows his brow, and I don't get much of a reaction from Ferdinand. Manuela, of course, knew I would be here, so I'm not surprised that she just smiles and acknowledges me with a nod.

"Harrie!" Dorothea calls, a little out of breath. "I was wondering where you'd gone off to. So you're a healer now, huh?"

"I wouldn't go that far just yet," I reply. "But I strive to be a man of many talents."

That said, I defer to the other healers to start moving to help. They do, but Manuela holds up a hand. "Hang on a minute. Nobody's in danger of life or limb just yet—let's see what the novice remembers from his training." She turns to me and smirks.

"Professor, are you sure about that? After yesterday…"

She just waves her hand dismissively, then winces. "Ooh," she mutters. "Put a bit too much shoulder into that."

I can't tell if she's playing up the injury for my sake, but fine. I take a deep breath. "All right, it's your funeral," I say under my breath. Louder, I continue: "Step one is triage. How badly is everyone hurt?"

"Edie and Ferdie took the brunt of the assault," Dorothea says. "They might be the worst off."

"Edelgard must receive treatment at once," Ferdinand insists. "Let the best healer we have see her. I shall wait until I am satisfied that she is well."

Edelgard rolls her eyes. "You forget that my armor protected me from the worst of it, compared to the rest of you." She gives her suit a tap with a gloved hand. "If anything, I suppose I'm the best off. Dorothea, Hubert, Professor Manuela all wear little protection and probably suffered the most physical damage."

Dorothea shrugs. "Typical Edie," she says.

Manuela and Hubert say nothing.

"Well, we don't really have time to debate it too much," I say. "I'll take you at your word, Edelgard. If you're in the best shape, you're with me, unfortunately." I delegate the other four Eagles, including Manuela, to other healers—they take my orders a bit reluctantly, but Manuela encourages them to let me try what I can.

Once all that's taken care of, I turn back to Edelgard, who begins removing her armor.

"What's so unfortunate?" she asks.

"It's unfortunate for you, not for me," I reply. "I haven't exactly been able to successfully use healing magic yet."

"Interesting," Edelgard says.

I hold up a finger and lower my voice. "I think I've made a bit of a breakthrough, but, you know, it's the sort of thing that takes two. If you're willing—" the phrase "guinea pig" crosses my mind, but I decide better than to use it with her of all people—"If you're willing to let me try…"

"What has happened when you've failed?" she asks. She lifts back her torn clothing to reveal some bruising along her forearm—probably where she fell—and a minor scrape a bit lower.

"Nothing," I reply. "Nothing at all. It's very anticlimactic. The magic just kind of fizzles out, slips through your fingers. If it happens again, I'll send you over to another healer, or give you a vulnerary—or both. You pick."

Edelgard gives an amused half-smile. "Let's see what you can do, then."

I promptly clean the scrape as per Manuela's training, then take a deep breath, call up the magic circle, and concentrate. I think back over what I learned last night, and all the connections come rushing back in force. Maintaining my control over the circle, I focus harder on Edelgard, who's right in front of me. It almost feels like I'm sending out a radar ping, waiting for the wave to bounce back to confirm her presence, and open the line of communication. I sort through the other threads, which are as good as static, and the connection clears up.

Now, if I'm remembering what Manuela said, I just need to encourage her life force a little bit. As I focus on bringing my own will closer to Edelgard's, I feel the connection hum with some kind of resonance—the same feeling when you lock eyes with someone and almost seem to know what they're thinking. Not that I can read her mind or anything, but it's the same momentary sensation of unity and clarity.

Then, that sensation spreads over me through to her. I might have thought that this healing operation would be like pouring out some of my life force to hers, but it's more like lighting one candle with another—I can feel that her spirit, soul, whatever you want to call it, has gotten a jump-start, and I zero in on her injuries, trying to direct and guide the flow of energy towards them.

A pale white light glows over Edelgard's arm, and I hear her hiss ever so slightly under her breath. The light fades after a moment to reveal that now, the scrape is all but closed, leaving behind raw new skin, and the bruising much improved, smaller and lighter in color.

"It worked," I mutter under my breath. "It worked!"

Edelgard experimentally touches her healed arm with the other hand. Her eyes widen and her brow furrows as he looks back to me. "Impressive," she says. "You'll have to tell me how you picked up healing magic so quickly."

I guess it isn't shocking that she, of all people, keyed in to the fact that under the traditional paradigm, I should not be adept at healing magic. "Not now," I say.

"Yes, of course," she replies. "Thank you, Harrison."

"Don't mention it," I say. "It's the least I can do."

It really is.

What a strange concept the whole thing is. Again I am, or was studying to be, a scientist. "Life force" is, at best, something that's pretty hard to pin down beyond a bunch of chemical reactions—probably more accurately, nothing at all, just an abstraction that we invented as a way of understanding our conscious experience. That's not to say that chemical reactions are all there is to life, but on the base level, that's what's keeping us in the game.

But what I felt was real, and the results are undeniable.

Maybe the connection isn't as crazy as I think. I consider what it felt like, to feel Edelgard's will almost ignited by mine, even if all it really got was a little push to heal up some bruises. An internal fire like that—even Lavoisier, back in the 1700s, realized that cellular respiration, the controlled release of energy from glucose into carbon dioxide, was the same as combustion by fire, just on a very different scale. Maybe in this world, with the rules warped by the forces of magic, that sort of spiritual ignition has its own microscopic counterpart.

The other healers finish up with their patients and Manuela comes over to check my handiwork. "Very good. I knew you had it in you!" She turns to Edelgard and continues, "You know, he couldn't pull it off when it was just little old me he had to heal, but you—you made the difference."

Edelgard starts stammering something in protest, but I jump in.

"I think it's just a case of practice, like you said yesterday, Professor," I say. "But thank you, for everything. I'm glad I've been able to help."

Meanwhile, back on the battlefield, it doesn't take long for Byleth and the Deer to dispatch the Blue Lions. Rhea officially announces the Golden Deer's victory, and while the Lions head over to the healing tent for some help, Byleth waves me to come join the rest of the house for a post-victory huddle. I'm just as happy to cash in my chips on the healing front for the day.

"Great work, Teach!" Claude congratulates Byleth with a playful slap on the back.

Byleth nods and looks out at the students. Not just the team for the battle, but the other students as well joined up in our circle. "Everyone did well," she says simply. Each one of the students takes their turn congratulating Byleth and the House as a whole on the win, and everyone's all smiles, even Lysithea and Marianne.

Byleth just nods again, taking it all again. Then she turns to me. "Anything to add?" she asks.

I shake my head. "Just this: here's hoping this is the first of many victories for the Deer," I say.

"Hear, hear!" Claude calls out. "And I'm hoping this is the first of many celebrations of said victories."

"Congratulations, Golden Deer," someone says from behind. Of course, it's none other than Rhea walking over to our group, slowly and calmly. And that bishop isn't with her. Hey, at least Byleth won the damn mock battle, so he can't complain. Maybe he went back home already with his tail between his legs?

"I will only be a moment, as I do not wish to impose on your festivities," she says. She turns to Byleth and me. "Professor Byleth, Assistant Professor Harrison, please stop by my chambers when you are finished. There will be important business to discuss. That is all."

"Understood," Byleth says.

"Enjoy your celebration," Rhea says. "You have earned it."

She smiles softly before she departs.

I'm a little surprised that she wants me involved in whatever this important business is, but I guess I shouldn't complain too much. I was worried Byleth was trying to push me out of things—Rhea might be trying to push me into them. It could be bad—it could be dangerous. Odds are this chat will have something to do the upcoming mission, which will be much more dangerous than anything I've dealt with before. I mean, that is barring that time I was on death row, but that was a different kind of threat, and, dare I say it, one that I was better prepared for than the kind that charges at you with an axe held high.

But none of that matters just yet. First, we celebrate the win.

As a House we head to the dining hall and have a perfectly nice meal together. It brings a smile to my face to see the kids laughing and cheering, joking and congratulating one another, but it's mixed with a sense of disconnection. I didn't have much to do with it after all—Byleth led them in the fight, and at the end of the day, she did the bulk of the teaching, too. I had my personal victory in successfully pulling off that healing magic, but the battle itself was Byleth's, and more appropriately, the students'. That's how she wanted it to be.

After our celebration wraps up, Byleth and I head to Rhea's chambers for our meeting. Talking with her are Seteth, and Bishop Daphnel himself. So I guess he hasn't left the monastery just yet.

"Well met, Professors," Rhea greets us as we enter.

"Hello," Byleth says.

"Archbishop, Holy Chamberlain, Bishop," I reply, acknowledging each of them in turn and trying to hastily make up for any slight of Byleth's. I admire her complete obliviousness—or is it just disregard?—for the social subtleties of these interactions. Maybe I'm overcorrecting, and when you've got her skills and confidence you can just ignore them as you please.

"Professor Byleth, your work with the students was remarkable," Rhea says. "I can see Jeralt trained you well." She turns to the bishop and smiles. "Bishop Daphnel, what was your assessment?"

"That it was a victory well earned," he says, nodding. "Congratulations, Professor. The Houses of Leicester will be pleased to hear my tales of their children seizing the day under your tutelage."

"And I am delighted to have none other than one of our own Bishops be the bearer of the news."

"Thank you, Archbishop," he says with a bow.

"You are most welcome," Rhea says, and her smile fades. "Now, I have matters to discuss further with the Professors and the Holy Chamberlain. As you were."

"Yes, Archbishop Rhea. I shall see you later."

Rhea merely acknowledges him with a nod, and the Bishop bows again, then scurries out of the chamber.

When the door closes behind him, a slight smile reappears on Rhea's face. "Truly incredible work, Professor Byleth. You have exceeded even my loftiest expectations, and not only in regards to your progress with the students."

"Thank you," Byleth says quietly.

Seteth clears his throat. "That all being said, you would do well to remember that this mock battle was merely practice. The real fight is the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, which will take place during the Wyvern Moon. You are expected to properly train your students so as not to humiliate the academy during that long-held tradition."

Rhea shakes her head. "Ah, after today's display, I have the utmost confidence in Professor Byleth. Indeed, she represents the finest that the Officers Academy, and in turn Garreg Mach, has to offer." And, as if on cue, she turns to me. "I will hold you to much the same standard, Assistant Professor."

My immediate instinct is to laugh at that, because it's patently ridiculous. But we just made Rhea look good in front of the Eastern Bishop. Maybe she legitimately is trying to be nice, or at least, positive and encouraging, in her own weird way?

"Lady Rhea, I am honored that you would even consider comparing my abilities to hers," I say, carefully and deliberately speaking each word as if I'm handling something fragile. "I will do my best to prove myself worthy of it."

Ready or not, it's not like I have any other choice.

A/N: Hi, I'm alive. I promise. I'm sorry for literally not posting at all this year, but I knew I needed to get something out before 2023 ended, and, well, this is it. I know there's no excuse for it, I know every writer talks about how their personal life is busy and rough and whatever but 2023 was a very difficult year for me personally in several ways, and it hasn't been until recently that I've had the mental bandwidth and energy to reengage with fandom stuff.

Plus, this part I will freely admit, I'm now all into Baldur's Gate and am resisting the urge to start another foolish story for that, lmao.

But I hope you're all doing well, at least better than I have been, and hope you all enjoy this offering to make up for my far-too-long absence. Thanks for being patient. And also thanks to Syntaxis for beta reading this chapter and making sure it was up to snuff for you guys. Come hang out on our Discord server with TDB and Syn and me: discord . gg / A27Ngyj (remove spaces).

Hope everyone has a happy new year!

Finally, some review responses:

jonathan11197 - Glad you enjoyed it! Thanks for revieng!

bulk Locke the grim head - Sorry that "however long I need" was a lot longer than either one of us anticipated, but glad to see you enjoyed the previous!

Stormtide Leviathan - Thanks for reading!

patattack - Thanks for reading!

Lordsunshine64 - Thanks for the review, glad you enjoyed it! Yeah, Hilda will take some time to get past her worse habits, haha.

Paragondor - Thanks, glad you enjoyed it!

OtaconGamer777 - Day to day life is fun, but I can't stay away from the drama for too long. Thanks for the review!

DeirdreofChalphy - Thanks for reviewing! Honestly, even now I'm not sure what I'm going to do with the Hopes material, I think my plan is to try to incorporate where it seems relevant but I've really centered this story around the main game so I'm going to stick to the original plan. I hope that's agreeable for most people.

Sinfel - Thanks for reading and reviewing!

- Oh, which house were you expecting? Thanks for reading!

DaedalusFlights - A duster is a little longer than I was imagining, haha. Glad you enjoyed it!

Scoolio - Congratulations, hope all is well with you two. Thanks for reading!

Jeptwin - Thanks for reading and reviewing! Interesting thoughts regarding Claude and Seteth especially. We'll just have to see how those relationships develop over time!

NameGoesHere - Thank you for being supportive, sorry this one took so long to get out. Thanks for reading!

heavenschoir - Cool, sounds interesting.

Super duper waffles - Late 2019, before the world ended! Thank you for reading!

Caellach Tiger Eye - Thanks for the review! Sorry that "however you long you need" was a bit longer than anyone expected, but as always I appreciate your detailed analysis of things. We'll just have to see how those continue to bear out as we actually get into the meat of the plot.

Laxard - Who knows? You may be onto something! Thanks for reading!

Knucklesfan - Better to leave em wanting more than overstay one's welcome, right? Thanks for reading!

FlamelessRider - Haha, I guess that is totally relevant!

red567 - Glad you are enjoying it! Thanks for reading!

Freedmoon - Thanks for the review, glad you're enjoying the story!

naufalrakha0104 - Thank you!

Quartusi - "Creep around" is an interesting choice of words, but we'll see how things develop. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

SilverJoJo - Thanks for reading and reviewing! Well, things haven't changed too much yet, but we're still so early on. Glad you're enjoying it so far!

Guest - Me too. Thanks for reading!

Spider-Man - The rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated. Thanks for reading!

SpicyArbiter - Thank you for being patient and reviewing!

Guest - Sorry, life stuff got complicated.