He froze.

He was stood on stone that glowed green in the darkness. Behind him were a set of stone steps, six in total, that led downward.

The hairs on his neck rose and he let out a silent cry. He flung himself at the steps, trying to go down them. He tore forward with his arms. His lungs burned and his shoulders throbbed, yet no matter how far he went, he remained exactly where he was… at the top of the stone steps.

He fell to one knee, trembling violently. He squeezed the fragment of stone in his hand and it stung against his palm. He mashed his eyes closed, willing himself to be back in the chair beside Moira, willing himself to be anywhere but where he was now, yet nothing changed. He was there… and he wasn't alone. It hadn't said anything, but he knew it was there. After all these years, he was finally at the top and there was no escape. He struggled to breathe and for a moment thought he was going to feint.

"You're braver than you think."

Lilia's voice spoke in his mind once again, and then he heard Moira's voice, counting numbers.

"One, two, three, four, five… back, two, three, four, five, six."

'One,' he muttered, 'two, three'-

Each word came out in a choked grunt but he made himself say each one as clearly as he could. He said them, and then opened his eyes.

The thing spoke moments later.

'Turn around.'

It was the voice he'd heard for many years, the soft, high-pitched one that sounded like it belonged to a young girl yet had the strength of someone much older.

'I said turn around.'

He looked down and remembered the feeling of Moira's hands over his. He then remembered Lilia interlocking her fingers with his, and how warm and soft they'd been.

'Stop ignoring me!'

He jumped. He took a deep breath and turned. He saw a large slab of stone with the strange circular symbol carved into it, the same one that he'd seen earlier that day.

'Look at me, not the stone!'

He closed his eyes, took one final breath in, and then looked down. When he'd first arrived at the monastery, the archbishop, Lady Rhea, had bothered him, not because of who she was, but because of all her green hair.

Because the thing also had lots of green hair.

It was the first thing he saw, and then he saw it… or her and froze. "She" sat on the looked human, like a young girl. She was small, with green eyes that matched the colour of her long, long, hair; pink and white braids drooped down both shoulders.

'Listen up, I do not feel well, in fact, I feel horrible, so do not test my patience any further. Tell me, are you human?'

He blinked. She wore a purple dress that draped down the sides of the throne and was adorned in peculiar ornaments, including a strange golden tiara that shone in the illumination. He'd never seen anyone like her before, and his mind screamed that she wasn't real… and yet there she was... it made him feel dizzy. She glared at him. 'Speak!' she boomed. 'Are you a human, yes or no?!'

'Yes.'

'There you go, was that so hard?' she spat. She leant forward on her throne. 'And what's your name?'

'Byleth.'

She crinkled her nose. 'So all this time it's just been a human with a name that sounds like bile. Well, hello Byleth, did you know that you have been disturbing my sleep for the longest time? For so long I have had to hear you on those steps, constantly stamping and running and making all kinds of foolish childish sounds. You even made me shout! I cannot help but wonder whether you did it on purpose to torment me, how very rude indeed!'

'I'm'-

'And then you have the nerve to act as if I do not exist! Even just there, you had your back turned to me and you refused to acknowledge my presence and when you finally did turn, you still refused to look at me. Why, do you think me a child? Someone whom you can just torment and treat as poorly as you wish?'

'Sorry.'

There was a long period of silence between them, and it was something that Byleth would never forget. He was standing in front of the very thing that had haunted him for most of his life. It…, or she, stared at him. Her forehead was tense and her eyes blazed. Under his breath, he continued to count, again and again.

After a while, it looked down and huffed. 'I cannot help but wonder whether your presence has led to this horrible feeling in me. It is cold and makes me want to shiver… still, (she looked up at him again) you are here now, and that is all that matters.'

Byleth's mind spun and he couldn't make out everything she said, but he picked up the tone clearly. It had softened, ever so slightly. He knew she was still angry, but-

He stopped muttering numbers… and then he stopped breathing.

The thing rose to its feet and a memory came to Byleth's mind, clearer and more vivid than any thought he'd had before.

It was a thought of his father hugging him after he'd caught his first fish.