"Really?!" The young peasant woman squealed excitedly under her breath. "You'd do that for me?!"

"Of course, baby." Sylvain said in a hushed voice, smiling and winking at her. "And, in return, You and I can just go out for a hot cup of tea down by the lake- and talk about our future together."

Hearing this caused the woman to squeal once again in delight. "Oh, thank you so much, Sir Gautier! When I first heard the rumors, I wasn't sure if I should even talk to you, but I would really appreciate the help!" From the street corner lit by a single lamp, she takes a bow before turning around and running off into the darkness of the night towards her farmhouse.

Sylvain sighs as he laces his fingers behind his head. "Welp, there goes another one. Perhaps I'll try the girl down by the tavern instead. At least she seems-"

"What do you think you are doing?" A familiar, and unmistakable voice spoke up directly behind him. The heir to the Gautier house had nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned to see the massive white brigand towering over him, whose gaze bore into him like a pair of daggers as he waited for Sylvain's response.

"Oh shi- Professor Kratos, er, I mean, sir!" Sylvain tried his best to remain as stoic as possible, but his tongue failed him as he quickly tried to come up with an excuse for the situation he now found himself in. "I didn't see you there! What- ah, um, what are you doing here?"

"That is for me to ask, and for you to answer." Kratos said, immediately diminishing any attempt by Guatier to try and deflect the question. He takes a step towards the young man. "You are out here past curfew without permission and without my knowledge." Sylvain couldn't help but stand rigid in fear as his mind went totally blank. "Speak! What are you doing out here this late?"

This was enough to prod Sylvain out of his stupor, and he began to speak without even realizing what he was saying. "Oh! Uh, nothing! I- I mean, there was a girl, and- and- and- she needed help because her barn was overrun with mice, and I- I just offered to lend her my assistance is all! I swear!"

Kratos, intrigued, tilted his head. "You… swear?"

"Y-yes! By the Goddess' name that is what I'm out here for!"

There was a pause as the Ghost of Sparta continued to stare down the boy, as though he were deciding on what to do next. Sylvain was absolutely certain that he was about to get dragged back to the monastery by the scruff of his shirt, followed by who-knows-what that the brigand might do to discipline him.

"Very well." Kratos concluded. "We will help her."

The redhead was dumbfounded. "I- I'm sorry?"

"You said that you would help this woman with her rodent problem. Therefore, I will make sure that you are good on your word."

Sylvain sighs in relief. "Oh, well, great! I'll go ahead on back to the monastery and get some proper rest, and I'll be here first thing after class has-"

"You will do it now. " Kratos said bluntly.

"Huh?"

"You are out here past curfew. You have disobeyed the rules. However, since you are evidently here for a selfless task, I am willing to let this go. After all…" He leaned down closely to the noble, whose nerve-wracked gaze was now eye-level with him. "You are not lying to me, are you?"

Though this was not a threat of any sort, the contempt in the brigand's voice was enough to cause Sylvain to abandon any and all thoughts of trying to deceive the hardened warrior and shook his head vigorously. "N-No! Of course not!"

Satisfied, Kratos nodded once and stood up straight. "Very good. Now then, let us begin." He placed a massive heavy hand over the boy's shoulder. "We have a long night ahead of us."

x-x-x

It was lunchtime at the Garreg Mach Monastery, and Kratos sat alone in his staff quarters as he enjoyed the peace and quiet with the stew he brought with him from the mess hall. Next to him on his desk, Mimir poured through the materials of the book propped in front of him, using one of the utensils in his mouth to flip from one page to the next.

"I must say, Brother," the head commented as he set the fork down to allow his mouth a rest. "The history of these lands are… shall we say, insightful."

Kratos swallowed his food, but did not look up from his bowl as he dipped his spoon for another mouthful. "In what way?"

"Well, for starters, it says here that civilization began when a so-called 'progenitor god' fell from the stars and crashed into the land of Fodlan some twelve-hundred years ago. She apparently had changed her form so that she could resemble that of a human, and gave her own blood so that she could birth her own children- who've become known as the Nabateans."

"Hm."

"Then, the progenitor god and the Nabateans began to share their teachings amongst the human population, and graced the world with her presence by offering salvation to the believers. However, mankind became arrogant; and began to wage war with themselves and began to challenge the very Goddess herself."

"That is hardly surprising."

"Indeed! As a result, a man by the name of Nemesis- the Fell King- and ten other elite soldiers were given the sacred blood and a powerful weapon who would go on to partake in the War of Heroes on behalf of the Goddess herself. This sacred blood would be later be known as 'Crests' of which have been passed down from one generation to the next."

"I see."

"You know where I'm getting at with this, right Brother?"

"I do."

Mimir huffs. "It seems that this entirely bloody hierarchy system is based on nothing but a bunch of-" He was interrupted when a sudden pounding came upon the door, causing Kratos to pause as he was about to take another bite of his food. He eyed the door for a moment before looking at Mimir, who made a gesture with his face as if to emphasize a shrug. "Well," He said in annoyance. "I reckon that there's only one person in this entire monastery that would have the gall to come knocking on our door like that." Kratos, already knowing whom his companion was referring to, grunted with irritation before he stood from his chair and opened the door.

Seteth stood rather restlessly on the other side with his hands clasped behind his back. His expression contained that of absolute exasperation, but he maintained a calm and collected demeanor as he gazed up at the tall man whose meal he interrupted. "Professor Kratos," He greeted stiltedly before looking past him to the severed head on his desk. "And Professor Mimir. I apologize for the disruption, but might I have a moment of your time? This will not take long."

"Ah, Master Seteth," Mimir welcomed the green-haired individual warmly, though there was a hint of distaste that was not lost on him. "Of course, please, come on in." Kratos stepped aside to allow Seteth to walk stiffly into the room and closed the door behind him.

Seteth took a deep breath, and both Mimir and Kratos were silent as they waited patiently to hear what the priest had to say. "I had been recently informed that during a mounted maneuver exercise, one of your students, Sylvain Jose Gautier, fell asleep while atop his horse. As a result, he fell off his mount, sustaining two cracked ribs. Fortunately, our healers swiftly attended to him, and aside from the rib injuries, he suffered no other harm." He glared at Kratos. " However, after speaking with Gauteir myself, I have learned that you have evidently kept him up throughout the entire night, though he would not say why you've done so in the first place. Now, if I may ask, are these accusations true , Professor Kratos?"

"Yes." The brigand said simply.

"May I ask why?"

"He was out past curfew. He said he needed to help someone. And so, I let him help."

The priest looked as though he was certain that the god of war was pulling a jest. However, after realizing that the ashen skinned man was absolutely serious, Seteth straightened himself up back into a proper posture and cleared his throat.

"Ahem, Professor Kratos, you are aware that any infraction of the guidelines perpetrated by the students here at Garreg Mach are to be reported directly to my office, yes?"

"I am."

"So then… why didn't you?"

"There was no need. He was under my supervision"

Seteth was dumbfounded. "Master Kratos…" He said in a low tone, his professional persona slipping as he spoke. "I don't know what you even deem to be acceptable around here, but you are not the arbiter of what is and isn't necessary when it comes to disciplining the youth here. You represent the monastery's very reputation, and if the head of the Gautier House caught wind of this, then he would-"

"He would agree with Kratos." Mimir interrupted him.

Seteth's eyes snapped towards the head. "I'm sorry?"

"I said," he repeated, his gaze narrowing. "He would agree with how Kratos had handled it."

"And what makes you so certain? You haven't even met one of them aside from the one you've sent to the infirmary."

"What, the Gautiers? Aye, true, but at least I've read enough about them to understand how their line of thinking works. Because that Crest System you lot seem to be obsessed with, along with their history is enough to tell me exactly what his da would do in Kratos' shoes. Very proud, that family is, considering they outcasted the wee lad's older brother for not having a Crest himself."

Seteth tilted his head, intrigued. "I see that you have learned quite a bit about our history and culture, despite the fact you've supposedly only arrived in these lands just a few days ago. And yet, I fail to see what that has to do with matter at hand."

Kratos interjected, "What's important is our agreement that, as long as I'm here, I'll take the necessary steps to properly prepare these children for their future. If he's meant to lead soldiers, he must grasp the repercussions of squandering his energy on trivial matters. A mere reprimand will not suffice. If left unchecked, it could one day lead to the ruination of his House's reputation. Or worse, he could lead his armies to ruin if he himself isn't adequately prepared for the challenges they may encounter."

Silence filled the room. It was evident that Seteth was not happy in the slightest, as he could not offer any disciplinary action of his own against the Ghost of Sparta, even if he happened to be exactly right about what he'd just said.

"Know this, Master Kratos. Besides Lady Rhea, there is no other person in this monastery that would like to see you returned to your homeworld as much as I do. As long as you remain committed to the agreement, we shall do everything within our power to make that happen; so I would strongly recommend against any further… agitations in the near future. And just you remember: it would be best for all of us that you don't meddle in our affairs any more than what the Archbishop has already allowed." With that said, Seteth swiftly made his exit and nearly slammed the door behind him. Both men watched the priest go, and continued to listen to the echoing footsteps as they faded further and further away.

"Well now," Mimir spoke up in a sarcastically optimistic voice. "Seems like we're making some good company during our stay here."

Kratos grunts in agreement before finally returning to his meal.

"By the way, Brother, any chance you've changed your mind on playing that lyre?"

"No."