Moira made her way up the winding stairs towards the infirmary, carrying her patient's dinner for the evening, a plate of stew and vegetables. Agnes the dining hall cook had delivered the food to her, and like the previous times, had asked her about how Byleth was. What annoyed Moira was that the cook was simply trying to find out whether she'd uncovered any juicy gossip that she could share with everyone. She'd told Agnes (again) that it wasn't her position to speak about the patient and that if she wanted to find out more, she'd either need to ask him himself once he was better or go to Seteth.

She huffed and puffed up the stairs. Knights had long since stopped offering to help her in any kind of way, for she always told them that she was fine. She didn't like climbing the stairs, but it was her exercise for the day. As she climbed them, she supposed that her patient would now be able to go up and down them as well, which was a miracle, considering the pain he'd been in just that morning.

She thought about him, the one known across Fódlan as the Ashen Demon. When he'd arrived at the monastery, she'd learnt that his nickname referred to his supposed inability to show any form of emotion. Learning that had sent a shiver down her spine, but she'd nearly had a heart attack when she'd seen him in person for the first time on Tuesday morning. She'd thought a demon of some kind had come to her door. His dull voice had matched his expressionless face and his black armour had made the hairs on her neck rise. She'd wanted him to leave and had to force herself to help him. He was everything everyone had said he was… or so she'd thought at the time.

There was a shelf at the top of the stairs, illuminated by a torch, and she lowered the plate onto it whilst she caught her breath. The Ashen Demon had been portrayed as a soulless being, yet when she'd seen him lying in the infirmary bed after the training ground incident, he'd acted less like the being from the stories and more like a boy who was unsure and uncertain of himself. He'd of course, been through much, from his battles in Remire to his poisoning, he may have even been dead if not for the Restore spell that morning. Thankfully, however, she'd alleviated his pain, and now he seemed to be on the road to recovery.

And yet something felt wrong. Despite all the seemingly good news, he seemed more uncomfortable and agitated than before. The only clue she had was that he'd mentioned strange dreams.

But would the Ashen Demon really be that bothered by some strange dreams?

She picked up the plate, shuffled down the corridor, knocked on the infirmary door and entered. Byleth sat in a chair looking out the window at the darkening sky. The first thing she noticed was that his shoulders were hunched and his jaw was clenched.

'Byleth?'

He clearly hadn't heard her come in because he jumped, spinning around in his chair. She jerked back and the plate of food nearly slipped from her grip.

'I-I did not mean to frighten you,' she said. Her heart hammered in her chest. 'I've just come with your dinner. Is everything alright?'

The boy's face paled. He flickered his eyes down and nodded.

She watched him, taking a moment to slow her breathing and lower her heartrate. 'How are you feeling?' she eventually asked.

'Better.'

If one hadn't been paying attention, they would've believed him. His voice sounded almost as dull as it'd been ever since he'd arrived at the monastery, but she was paying attention, and something in his voice was different. It was subtle, but it was there.

'No more tingling pain or dizziness?'

'No.'

'Do you still have any other aches?'

'Yes.'

'But they're also getting better?'

'Yes.'

'I'm glad. Do you think you will feel well enough to leave the infirmary soon?'

'Suppose so.'

'That's good. Perhaps your body will finally heal itself tonight when you sleep and this will be your last night in the infirmary.'

He nodded again, still not meeting her eyes, and then turned back to the window.

She watched him again and then placed the dinner plate onto his table and lit the candle on his bedside table. 'I had your armour cleaned so feel free to put it back on once you feel ready to do so.'

'Thanks.'

'You will be looking forward to finally leaving here, I would imagine,' she said.

There was no response. She looked up and froze. The boy was shaking.

'Byleth? Are you alright, dear?'

He shook his head and his trembling worsened. Her heartrate spike again.

'What's wrong?'

He didn't respond. She took a step towards him and then froze, goosebumps rippling across her skin. Guilt swept over her.

I'm still afraid of him, she thought of Agnes and Irene in the dining hall, as well as Maneula, the people who'd told her about the Ashen Demon. They believed Byleth to be at best, a strange being who didn't deserve to be treated like everyone else, at worst, a monster.

But I'm not like them, she thought. I won't be like them. I won't allow tales to distort what is in front of me.

She shook her head and moved towards the side of his chair. 'Breathe, dear. Count from'-

'One, two, three'-

The boy counted numbers her breath escaped her. She listened to him and was certain he'd counted many times before. The stories of the soulless, emotionless Ashen Demon hadn't included that he suffered from panic attacks.

And how long has he been having them for? His whole life?

He counted but his breaths were still jerked and uneven. She placed a hand on his shoulder. Doing so sent a shiver down her spine but she ignored it. 'Drop your shoulders, dear, it will help.'

The boy did as he was told, continuing to count. She followed along with him, helping to guide his rhythm. It wasn't the Ashen Demon counting but a scared young boy. Tears started to roll down her cheeks. Number by number, his breathing slowed, and his body's trembling lessened. He counted from one to six and back another four times and then fell silent.

'What's troubling you, dear?' she asked, wiping her eyes. 'Allow me to help you.'

Byleth didn't respond. She turned, locked the infirmary door and went back to him.

'May I sit beside you?'

He nodded, and she pushed a chair up beside him. She followed the direction of his gaze down to his hands. One was clenched whilst the other was wrapped around it.

'Are you troubled by the pain or issues you have been suffering from in the past few days?'

He shook his head.

'You mentioned strange dreams earlier, are they disturbing you?'

This time he didn't respond. She looked up at the moon outside and realised she could now see stars dotted around it. She watched them for a while, and then sighed.

'I speak to you now not as a nurse, but as a grandmother. You don't need to share anything with me or anyone, but confiding in others when I struggled helped me, and the same thing helped my daughter and her children as well. All I ask is that if you cannot deal with the problem yourself then don't suffer in silence, it will ruin your life, and you deserve so much better than that.'

He looked up at her, and it made fresh tears roll down her cheeks. He'd avoided her gaze since she'd entered the infirmary that evening and now she knew why. His eyes gave everything away that his face hid: his fear and anxiety. He opened his mouth but then dropped his head, clenching his hands tighter than before. She placed her hands over his.

'You are safe.'

Byleth felt the warmth of the nurse's hands on his. They were soft, a contrast to the sharp stone that dug into his palm. He trembled again, and then heard Lilia's voice.

"You're braver than you think."

He looked up at Moira again. Her eyes were blue, just like Lilia's, and in that moment, she was Lilia. He took a deep breath in.

'I'-

He blinked and saw black.