Outlaw Knight

by Ernestrunningaway

Beaten by his nemesis, abandoned by the man he gave all he had for, and lingering on the brink of eternity, Arthur was certain his time was at an end as he looked to the dawn one final time. But by the will of fate, or some silent, unknowable power, he awoke to a foreign land, tended to by strangers. Among them, none confounded him more than this cobalt-haired girl with a sword...

12. Garreg Mach: Stay With Us

"You gonna get me outta here?"

Arthur leaned against the rain-soaked wall, crossing his arms against his chest. "I ain't decided yet."

"Real funny."

"Oh, I ain't jokin', cowpoke." Grimacing, Arthur bent down and stared at the bastard in his rat cage, resting his elbow against the frame of the reinforced window. "You done fooled everyone. Hell, you almost fooled me… but I know better. Nobody knows you as much as I do."

He focused on the other man and tried his best to ignore the tingling in his back. "End of the day, you're just a sick dog that needs puttin' down."

"Well, you gotta do something."

Arthur grunted, the faint piercing sensation in his spine becoming more akin to the feeling of being slowly punctured with something sharp, like a knife. "I'll do somethin', alright. Somethin' that shoulda been done a long time ago."

"Heh, heh, heh, go 'head then, you old fool. You do what you gotta do. After all, this is all you're good for. You can't change the past, just as you ain't changin' who you a—"

Again, Arthur watched as the bastard's skull exploded, and again, no matter how many times he told himself he'll feel something about it the next time around, he felt nothing aside from the rain on his skin, the ringing in his ears, and the recoil against his hand.

The lancing pain blossoming in his spine was new, though, and he soon found himself leaning his entire weight against the wall, before his legs became stiff and finally refused to obey his commands. As his gun slipped from his grasp and he collapsed to the muddy ground, he heard the door to the sheriff's office burst open, and out came the lawmen, yelling curses and slinging out their own weapons.

With his legs firmly anchored to the ground and his arms suddenly feeling as though weighed down by logs, Arthur was unable to defend himself from the hail of bullets that flew his way. He writhed this way and that, flesh tearing, bone shattering, and organs bursting from the sheer volume of lead and fire.

And yet, once again, Arthur found no respite, no final release from the torment of his life of sin, as a shotgun blast tossed him aside and off the edge, his tender and startlingly bare flesh painfully arresting its momentum against a cold and unfamiliar floor.

"Dargh! Hrrrg! God… dammit!" Arthur hissed, the throbbing pain wreaking havoc in his spine now radiating up his skull. With his head feeling as though it was about to split itself in two, Arthur could do nothing but clench his fists and squirm on the floor, toes curled and grinding his teeth together to withstand the torturous sensations. "Rrrrggg! Gah!"

It can't have been more than a minute until the pain began to subside, but Arthur felt like he spent an eternity on that floor, enduring the storm of agony wracking nearly every nerve in his body.

As his suffering came to an end, with the pain feeling less like he was set on fire while a knife danced along his spine all the way up to his skull and a bit more like a truly atrocious hangover, Arthur dared to crack an eye open, half-expecting a hellish environment where he would be tormented until the end of time. Instead, he was met with a cold, unceasing void. Nothing but blackness, as far as he could see.

"Figures…" He cracked the other eye open, and instantly, he was beset with another, if slightly lesser wave of pain, centred on his eye and radiating to his head. Every light was a blinding white-hot. Angles, sharp as blades. He could see the ceiling above him, every detail in the magnificent ornamentations and gilded wood and marble carvings making him question what kind of afterlife the powers that be had dragged him into.

Sighing, Arthur let his body go slack, the back of his head coming to a rest against the floor. He then reached up to wipe the sweat from his face, and immediately recoiled when his hand instantly snapped upward on his command, accidentally smacking himself in the face with it.

"…clumsy bastard." Gritting his teeth, Arthur tried again, and this time, he only barely managed to avoid hitting his jaw with his palm. He was startled to realise how quickly his arm seemed to obey him, and when he experimented with moving the limb back and forth, he was intrigued to watch the muscles therein snapping like a well-trained hound at his mind's slightest behest. Trying the same on the other limb yielded the same results. "What in the goddamn…?"

A plaintive mewing drew Arthur's attention to his left-hand side, where he found no less than three cats staring back at him from where they sat under an enormous, richly-decorated bed — the same one he appeared to be laying on before a lawman with a shotgun blasted him off it.

Arthur couldn't help but huff out a breath of sardonic laughter at the sight of the curious things. He always knew Hell would have cats in it.

Eventually, a chilly breeze from elsewhere in the room forced Arthur to realise he should find himself something to wear. Turning on his side, Arthur pushed himself up from the floor, got up to his knees and stood up, finding it extremely concerning how much control he now seemed to possess over his own body. And when he moved, his limbs felt much lighter and more agile, like he could cross the span of this unusually vast room in an instant.

It was as though he had been drudging knee-deep in mud his whole life, and it was only now that he had managed to wade free and start moving on solid ground. He hadn't felt this unburdened even when he was still a younger man.

"Where the hell…" Arthur found an armoire, made in an unusual, chalk-like polished wood, with golden filigrees and trimmings. Realising it was unlocked, he swung its doors open, finding sets of elegant clothes, dresses, and accessories for a much more feminine body than his. "This here's a boudoir. Goddammit…"

Shaking his head and trying not to think about the sort of circumstances that could have led to him finding himself in a rich woman's bed without any clothes on, Arthur closed the armoire and wandered elsewhere in the room, feeling the eyes of the resident cats watching him as he plodded along. Eventually, he found where the breeze must be coming from: a massive, partially-opened double door that seemed to lead outside, a beam of sunlight streaming into the opening down the middle.

Scowling, Arthur strode over to close the doors, his ears picking up the sound of heavy wind just beyond. Grunting, he placed a hand on each door and pushed, finding them surprisingly easy to move despite their broad and undoubtedly heavy make.

But before he could fully close the doors, a flock of what must have been enormous white birds surged past, buffeting him with a sudden gust of wind and almost knocking him down on his back, had he not had the presence of mind to hold onto one of the doors.

"Hey! Did anyone else see that?"

Cursing, Arthur strained to hear the voice of a woman coming from outside, barely discernible from the howling currents of air. Soon, it was joined by more.

"Don't break rank, sister! The wing commander's going to kill us if we don't return to our patrol route!"

"Wait, by the goddess, wait! I think I saw something moving by the archbishop's balcony!"

"Don't be ridiculous! It's probably one of the nuns on cleaning duty!"

"Damnation, I can't be the only one who noticed it! It looked like a man!"

"Lieutenant, get your mind out of the gutter and get back in formation! That's an order! An order, I say!"

Deciding that he shouldn't stick around before the women outside could catch sight of him, Arthur quickly looked for another exit, finding a much smaller, singular door over by the opposite side of the room. Left with little choice but to brave what lies behind this door, Arthur swiftly crossed the room and stepped out into a small but richly-decorated hallway, which just happened to be hosting a couple of patrolling armoured knights, who only appeared startled at his presence for a single precious second before they both lowered their halberds, locked shoulders, and began to advance.

"Intruder! You will suffer for th—!"

With an errant, split-second impulse, Arthur's body launched into action faster than his mind could catch up, muscles tensed and his dominant fist already drawn back as he swiftly closed the distance to his foes. As he entered within striking range, he nimbly darted away from the halberds' braced spearpoints and threw himself at the closest knight, striking the man square in the helmet with his wound-up fist.

"Macuil's ass!" As the first knight's body spun backwards, crashed against a marble railing and immediately went limp, the second knight abandoned his halberd and attempted to draw his arming sword. "Seiros, protect your fai—"

Arthur didn't give him enough time to clear his weapon from its sheathe as he instinctively lunged at his remaining opponent with a charging tackle, knocking the knight off his feet with a muffled yelp and pinning him against the wall behind him. As Arthur took a step back, rearing a fist to land the first of many blows, he was shocked to find that he had practically crushed his victim into the wall, leaving behind a giant, unsightly dent across the front of the man's armour.

"Jesus…" As his opponent gradually collapsed to the floor with a horrid gurgling moan, Arthur stared at his hands in rapidly mounting dread. He should not have flung a trained soldier wearing a full set of plate armour off his feet with a single punch, and neither should he have flattened another against a wall as though his body had all the weight and impact of a charging warhorse. With the way he effortlessly neutralised his foes, Arthur realised he was not only faster and more reactive than before, but significantly stronger as well. "What the hell's happenin' to you, Morgan?"

"Well, you certainly are not wasting any time putting your abilities to use."

Arthur growled. "More of you? Fine." Preparing himself to fight his way out of this wretched place, the outlaw swiped a dagger from one of the knights and turned to the source of the voice. "I'll just have to keep putting you… huh?"

It was a woman, dressed not to fight, but for some kind of ceremony. Standing tall and stately with light green eyes and hair, she had an expression of dignified calm and serenity on her face, despite the one-sided violence she must have just witnessed. "You look surprised. Did you not expect to find me here, in my own home?"

"Your home?" Arthur gawked for a moment, before he gathered himself and scowled. "Lady, I don't even know who you are, or what this place is."

"Do not look so sullen. The first few hours of lucidity can be overwhelming, as I understand." The woman said, her voice warm and benign. "If you would be so kind as to put your weapon away and let me tend to the injuries of those knights you so ruthlessly trounced, I will be glad to help you understand what has transpired."

Arthur considered his options. The woman seemed sincere in her offer to aid him, appeared unarmed, and she did not seem to be much of a threat. Should his fears be realised and this turned out to be some kind of trap, he reasoned he could simply overpower her and go back to finding a way out of this place.

"Get on with it, then." Arthur lowered his weapon and stepped aside. "You seem to know who I am."

"How could I not?" The strange woman walked over to the fallen knights, her long dress and her flawless stride making it look as though she was gliding across the floor. "Your reputation as a rising name in the sellsword business aside, the deeds you have accomplished during the Siege of Fódlan's Locket have netted you quite the status amidst the lords of the Alliance."

The outlaw's frown deepened. "I was just fighting to survive."

"Truly? I do not think a man whose goal is survival would resolve to throw himself headlong into certain death, taking on odds that were impossible to surmount for any man by his lonesome, especially one without a crest."

"Yeah? Well, maybe I stopped giving a shit about survival halfway through, when I learned our captain was about to get his position overrun by the eastlanders."

"You intended to sacrifice yourself for Captain Eisner, then?"

Arthur winced. "Yes." The fact that his lungs still drew breath was now a constant reminder of his failure. "But I didn't get to him in time. I wasn't quick enough and… and she lost her father 'cause of that."

The woman stood up from her work, her hands briefly wreathed in a miasma of bright golden light. "You have covered yourself in glory that day, but the fact that you gave no thought to yourself and only to the tragically vain hope of defending others speaks well for your character."

"I wouldn't be so sure of my character, my lady. You don't really know me that well."

"Perhaps. It is true that I only know you from the words of others. I suppose I will just have to see for myself what kind of man you truly are."

Arthur scoffed. "Don't mean to be rude, but…" He followed the strange woman back to the opulent room he regained consciousness in. "I ain't planning on stickin' around long enough for you to do that. As soon as I figure out what's goin' on, and find out where you put my clothes and the rest of my things, I'm hitting the road."

"That is your choice." She said, lowering herself to give her attention to the three cats in the room, who emerged from their hiding spots and padded over to her as soon as they noticed their mistress had returned. "But I do not think your ward would appreciate you leaving so soon, when her allotted time here has just begun."

"My ward… you mean Byleth?" Arthur fought down the urge to start becoming an unruly guest. The woman had been nothing but civil to him, if not a little more enigmatic than he would like. "Where'd she gone? Is she around here somewhere?"

"Although restlessly awaiting your return, she is quite safe here, Mr. Morgan. You will be pleased to learn that she has grown to be a capable white mage, and in such a short time as well." The strange woman said, sounding less like a charlatan with a mystical bent and more like a proud mother. She spent another moment giving pets to her trio of cats before she stood up, dusted her hands, and turned to Arthur again. "Although, that is a subject for another time. There, to the right of my quarters, you will find an alcove where I had your possessions stored under a shelf for safekeeping."

Arthur looked to where she indicated at, and nodded in acknowledgement. "Thanks, but… uh, why was I naked in the first place?"

"You have been suspended in healing magic for quite some time, in a place where no one else but me and only a handful of priestesses and nuns have access to. You have no need for clothing." She put up a hand in an oddly elegant shooing gesture. "Go on, young man, reclaim some of your decency. You have given me and my poor children enough of a show."

There was an indignant meow from one of the cats at that.

Shaking his head and grumbling under his breath, the outlaw followed the woman's directions while she wandered off to another corner of the room. As soon as he caught sight of his trunk tucked away in the alcove she mentioned, he dropped his dagger and got to his knees, wondering if all his things were still where he left them. Fortunately, despite the fact that someone had obviously gone through the container at some point, nothing seemed to have been taken from the compartments in his trunk, at least to his knowledge. Pulling a concealed lever also retracted a latch inside the trunk, revealing a hidden compartment containing his satchel and a spare Colt Navy revolver, both of which he was quick to retrieve. With all his belongings seemingly in place, Arthur then took to the task of getting himself decent and putting on some of his gear.

"Shit don't feel right…" As he put on a shirt, a pair of black trousers and matching boots, a black bulldog hat, his satchel and gunbelt, as well as one of his spare pinstripe vests, Arthur couldn't help but feel as though his old clothes had shrunk down a size, with the way they seemed to wrap tightly around his body. Either that, or his frame was even larger somehow. "Just another thing I'll have to get used to."

Rolling up his sleeves and holstering his revolver as he returned to their previous spot, Arthur arrived in time to receive another faceful of cold wind from beyond the enormous pair of doors he had sealed closed not too long before. Grunting, Arthur shook off the chilly sensation and looked up to find that the strange woman had somehow opened the doors on her own, despite her delicate-looking frame under her robes.

"A bit of sunlight never hurt anyone." She said, turning to face him as he approached her. "Do not give me that look. I am not as frail as you may think."

"Evidently." The outlaw's attention was quickly drawn to the majestic sight that laid beyond the opened doors: an enormous, gilded balcony that resembled a small courtyard, complete with tables and chairs that seemed to be made out of smooth marble. It even seemed to double as a garden. "Just how far are we from the ground?"

"You look upon the Starview Terrace." The strange woman said. "It is quite a long way down. I do not recommend straying to the edges — the winds can be unpredictable, especially if the wyvern or pegasus-riding auxiliaries and knights are on their patrol duties."

"Thanks for the warning…" Arthur scratched his jaw through his beard. It had grown large enough to encompass the lower half of his face and most of his neck. "Guess that explains why I heard voices comin' from behind these doors."

The woman smiled invitingly, holding a hand in the direction of the balcony. "I see now where your ward found inspiration for her choice of wardrobe. Perhaps you are also the source of these new fashion trends in the Alliance's nobility."

"Nobles do what they please, I guess." Arthur said as he entered the balcony, putting a hand to his hat to keep it from being blown away in the breeze. "Jesus… can't we just talk back in your room?"

"Afraid of heights, Mr. Morgan?"

"I'm afraid of a lotta things, though at least you can fight those things off. But gravity? You can't fight gravity."

They picked one of the tables to sit, whereupon she sat adjacent to him. "Perhaps most cannot, but I know others who could. So, then… how shall we proceed?"

"You can start by telling me what I should be callin' you." Came Arthur's brusque response. "If I had to guess, with all these mentions of nuns, you must be one of those Church of Seiros fellers."

"Indeed I am... although as you may have also gathered, I am not just another sister-in-faith." The woman said. "In settings such as this, when there are no others nearby, you may address me by my name: Rhea."

"Shit..." Arthur couldn't help but curse out loud. "I, uh... well, I never thought we'd actually meet..."

"Do I seem so frightening to you?" She seemed to take amusement out of his reaction. "You look quite pale."

And just like that, Arthur's intent to leave this place was no longer a desire, but rather, a need. The last thing he wanted was for Byleth to be within reach of the woman her late father had confessed to fearing the most.

But before he could make his next move, he decided it was wiser to bide his time, and to get some answers. "Right, well... I take it you was the reason I ain't dead, then."

"It is as you say, though you have Ms. Eisner to thank for it. When you were on death's door, she was the one who insisted I use my powers to keep you from succumbing to your wounds." Archbishop Rhea explained, her gaze straying to the distant horizon as she continued. "You must understand that the nature of your injuries… they were beyond conventional methods of healing, and even if by some miracle of the goddess that you survived them somehow, you would now have to contend with the fact that your legs have become vestigial as a result of the damage inflicted to certain areas of your spine. It would have been a most undignified existence, in which you would have to rely on others for the most basic of tasks..."

Arthur listened intently as Rhea talked further, finding himself disturbed at the images and scenarios his mind helpfully conjured for him. He was certain he would rather have died in agony than to live, only to become a burden to others.

"…and lastly, I detected signs of a nascent malignancy in your lungs. Consumption, to be exact. You seem to have survived it before, but with the decline of your body's defences as a result of your many grave wounds, I noticed it was in the midst of attempting a return." Just when Arthur thought he could no longer be surprised, Rhea continued to prove him wrong. "It was truly fortunate that you were brought to me before the disease could restart its course."

"Yeah, I get it. Guess I owe you, then." Arthur sighed. This will surely come to haunt him later, if not sooner. "And how long was I out of it? Beard's thicker than I remembered it being."

"Only a little more than two moons, which is quite unprecedented. I bid you welcome to the 4th of the Great Tree Moon, in the year of our goddess, 1180." The archbishop said, smiling at Arthur's stunned expression. "To give an example, Captain Eisner spent twice the amount of time recovering from his wounds, which were indeed life threatening, but relatively minor compared to yours."

"You saved Jeralt's life, once? You must've been real young back then… for bein' the head of your church, I mean."

"Perhaps. Is there anything else I can aid you in understanding?"

The outlaw leaned back into his seat. "Yeah, and I've been savin' it for last." He put up his hands. "What else have you done to me? I just tossed a man into the air and folded another into a wall, and they ain't exactly feather-light 'cause they was both wearin' goddamn plate. I like to think my mind's quicker than my body nowadays, but now it jumps before—"

A sudden, strong gust of wind blew over them, sending Arthur's hat flying off his head. Before he even realised what he had done, his hand darted out like a whip, catching his hat by the brim before it could glide out of his reach.

"That was... unexpected." Rhea looked strange when she was surprised. It was clear that such a thing did not happen often. "Excellent catch, if I might say so."

"See what I mean?" Arthur grumbled as he set his hat back on his head.

The apparent source of the abrupt change in the air, a woman wearing an open-faced armet with a set of light plate armour over leather, drifted down onto the balcony from atop her mount — a magnificent, barded courser with a silvery white coat, which also happened to be sporting a pair of gigantic feathery wings in the same colour as its coat.

This was the first time Arthur had seen a pegasus up close. He found himself awestruck by the thing, and lamented that he would never willingly take one for a ride, considering his squeamishness around high elevations.

"Archbishop Rhea! A moment, please!" The beast's rider said as she hurriedly dismounted, before giving Rhea a crisp salute. "I've something I wish to report!"

The archbishop nodded and smiled. "Pleasant skies to you, Lieutenant Yarrow. Are you not supposed to be on patrol with your wingmates at this hour?"

"Err, well, yes... but I haven't shirked my duty, no!" Yarrow insisted. Arthur couldn't help but detect a faint hint of a Scottish accent in her voice, which was unusual, to say the least. "The next leg of our route would take us for another sweep over this airspace, so I decided to forge ahead of my sisters because I wouldn't have the time to give you this report had I remained in formation!" After such a mouthful of words, she was forced to pause for breath. "And this is something you will wish to hear, truly!"

Rhea made the act of sighing look graceful. "Very well then, dear child, I will listen. Be at ease and deliver your report."

"Not too long ago, when our route took us close to your balcony, I think I saw... no, I am sure I saw a man inside your quarters!" The pegasus rider exclaimed. "He was big, hairy, and covered in scars! And… and he was..." Grey eyes narrowed into slits, she all but hissed out her next few words. "He was naked!"

"Oh? That is… extremely concerning, to be sure." Rhea's smile grew wider still. "You have my deepest thanks for bringing this to my attention, vigilant one. Imagine what sort of harm that man might have caused, had you not informed me of his… ehem, wicked presence. Goddess only knows what his intentions are for me."

"I live to serve, my lady!" Yarrow basked in the archbishop's words of praise, completely missing the playful undertone in them. "Should I tell my sisters to survey this area of the monastery? Just say the word, and we will ensure that man cannot ever come near you!"

The archbishop's eyes drifted aside to Arthur, her expression making it clear this must be the most fun she has had in a long while. "Ah, but not to worry, child. I am quite safe here with my esteemed guest keeping watch on me. You do intend to protect me from that, hm-hm, depraved sinner lurking somewhere in my quarters, do you not, Mr. Morgan?"

Arthur tilted his hat down and continued to keep his mouth shut.

"Morgan…? Wait just a second!" He could feel the start of a headache coming on when Lieutenant Yarrow finally seemed to notice that the oddly quiet man sitting across her lady matched her description of their infiltrator, minus the nakedness. "It's… it's you!"

Arthur closed his eyes and massaged his aching temples. "Argh, goddammit, woman… this ain't funny."

Rhea's peal of laughter was a delicate thing, almost quiet enough to be drowned out amidst the constant howling of the winds. "Hm, hm, hm-hm! Ohh, how I needed that. Lieutenant Yarrow… thank you for being a good sport. Consider your report well-received, and you may now return to your patrol route."

"M-my lady, but this man is… a-are you su—"

"Yes, lieutenant. I am quite certain." Arthur was alarmed at how quickly Rhea's tone changed. She was no longer the overburdened parent taking some amusement at her child's expense, but a superior addressing an unruly subordinate. "I need not mention that you mustn't tell anyone of what happened here, and you will forget this exchange ever happened. As far as you are concerned, you did not see anyone in my balcony."

"I… I understand, archbishop. As her holiness demands."

"Onward, then. The goddess protects."

Arthur was left scratching his beard as the pegasus rider saluted again, climbed up the saddle of her beast, and willed it to jump off the side of the balcony. Seconds later, a tiny, silvery shape rose up in the horizon, soon disappearing behind the clouds.

"My apologies on behalf of my followers for the interruption, Mr. Morgan, and… pardon me for that abrupt display of unprofessionalism on my part." Rhea broke the awkward silence between them. "My responsibilities leave me with precious little time for levity, you understand. As head of the Church of Seiros, my work is never done, and it is a struggle to find…"

"Hey, it's fine." Arthur held up a hand, and she fell silent. "I get it, lady, you got a lot on your plate." He took off his hat and rested it on his lap. "Jeralt felt the same, most days. Between runnin' the company, handlin' contracts, and workin' out how much was each feller in the company supposed to be paid every moon, he only had 'nough time to drink himself into the next day."

The archbishop nodded. "Captain Eisner never was one for delegating tasks to his subordinates. This is something we have in common, though I imagine my reasons for doing so are drastically different to his." She took a breath to steady herself. "Before we were interrupted, you were asking me about how my powers have changed you."

He crossed his arms as he sank into his chair. "Ever since I woke up, I don't… feel like myself."

"That is a common side-outcome of the ritual I performed to reverse your injuries. I have seen it run its course before, so take comfort in knowing that these feelings will soon come to pass. I am certain that in time, you will come to like how much you've improved."

"Well, I suppose all these changes could be useful, 'specially in my line of work, but… hm, I dunno. Feels like there should be some kinda catch to all this. Everything's got a price to pay... ain't lived this long without learnin' that."

"But there is indeed a price, Mr. Morgan — a price that has long since been paid for by your loyal ward."

"…and just what was that price, exactly?"

Arthur recognised the sound of approaching footfalls. Frowning at the prospect of being interrupted again, he turned to their approaching company, and immediately caught a gloved fist to the jaw, faster than even his freakishly bloated reflexes could track.

"Heh." The outlaw opened his eyes and massaged his aching jaw. "Don't go easy on me now, mi—"

Another hit, and harder this time. It split his lip and almost dislocated his jaw. "Hrrm! That's… ough, that's more like it."

Byleth stared at him as she slowly retracted her arm. "You promised you'd be careful."

"I did, sure." He stood up from his seat, and she was forced to look up at his towering frame to keep looking in his eyes. "But I couldn't just let the damned eastlanders get to Jeralt."

"And you lured me away. We could have gone together."

"Horseshit. You knew as much as I did — headin' out into the desert was a one-way trip."

"We survived through so much worse before. That would have been no different."

"Jesus, kid, if I'd let you tag along, I wouldn't be able to focus on getting the captain out of there, and we'd all be dead."

"But you failed." Byleth said, her wavering voice charged with emotion. "And my father is still dead."

"Yeah." He nodded tightly. "Yeah, I screwed it up, I won't deny it. Shit happened… but from how bad it's become out there, you being there by my side wouldn't have changed a goddamn thing, and I'm glad I made sure you won't go down with me."

The girl bared her teeth in palpable frustration. "You don't regret it, then?"

He sighed, looking at her with weary resignation. "I don't regret what I did, Ms. Eisner… and I'll do it all over again if it means I could keep you protected. Safe. Alive."

The outlaw saw the mounting fury in the girl's eyes, and he braced himself for another assault. Certainly, he felt the wind being chased out of his lungs when she embraced him instead, her head on his chest and her arms wrapped tightly enough around his back, ensuring that he couldn't move even if wanted to.

"You will do nothing of the sort." Byleth whispered into his chest, as Arthur accepted his fate and hugged her back. "No more lies. No more false promises. Swear that you will never do anything like that to me again, now and in the future."

Arthur swivelled his head to Rhea, who was pointedly looking away from either of them, but with a smiling expression of serenity on her face.

"Don't look at her. Look at me." Byleth pressed, leaning back and taking her arms from his back to hold him by the shoulders. "Swear it, Arthur."

"Goddammit…" The outlaw hung his head for a moment, finding himself unable to look at his ward in the eye. "Alright. I swear I won't… ugh, do something like that again." He breathed in the cold air through his nose and raised his head. "And thanks… thank you for saving my life. I really don't know what I'd done to deserve you, girl."

At that, Byleth put up a wan smile. "Nothing will ever be the same. My father is gone, and so is our company." She retracted her arms and stepped back, letting Arthur have a good look at her. "But with you here, perhaps the future might not seem so bleak."

It was clear from the bags under her eyes and her bloodless complexion that the girl had not been taking care of herself properly, and Arthur wouldn't be surprised if she had spent the last two moons alternating between grieving for Jeralt and worrying for him. Still, what truly caught Arthur's attention was the fact that she appeared to be wearing an unfamiliar insignia, which was pinned to the front of her overcoat.

"What's, uh… what've you got there, kid?" The outlaw tentatively gestured at the symbol, which was strikingly similar to the Church of Seiros' own coat-of-arms, with the addition of an open tome and what looked like a fortress wall.

Byleth looked mildly surprised as she palmed at the insignia on her chest. "This is… my badge, as a fencing and duelling instructor. I wear it so I do not get mistaken for one of the students. I started training to work for the Officers Academy a week after we arrived here, and I only just started teaching my own class three days ago, at the turn of the moon."

Arthur mouthed a curse, looked over his shoulder to Rhea, and found the woman now looking back at them.

"Everything has a price to pay." The archbishop echoed his words, somehow making them sound much more profound in her own voice. "In exchange for your life, Instructor Byleth Eisner offered her services to us. After hearing of her reputation and witnessing her capabilities for myself in the training yards, I believed it would be best to put her to work teaching the students of this academic year how to handle a sword, and how to hold their own in one-to-one confrontations."

"It is a small price to pay, considering what was at stake." Byleth said, nodding. "I also get my own lodgings and a regular wage. I had my doubts at first, but perhaps our stay here would not be so unpleasant."

Arthur had a lot of things to say about that. But not while Archbishop Rhea was within earshot. "That's, uh… that's real nice, miss. Why don't you show me around the place, talk to me about what kinda work you do here."

"I would be glad to, of course." The girl was quick to say, her features lighting up. "Lady Rhea? I request your permission to…"

"This is why I called you here, is it not, dear child?" The archbishop said, smiling. "I already let the knights and your fellow staff know that I consider Arthur Morgan a personal guest of mine. He is free to wander the academy and monastery grounds, so long as he does not stray into restricted areas."

Byleth dipped her head in thanks to her new lady. "Thank you, Lady Rhea. That is most convenient."

"Go on, child. Show your dear friend around. Perhaps the beauty and serenity of our monastery would convince him to stay."

Moments later, Arthur was being led by his companion into the lower levels of the building they were in, which, according to her, also housed the personal offices of some of her higher-ranked colleagues in the Officers Academy: the headmaster and the three professors.

"The academy is managed by Headmaster Detlev von Braunschweig, a lord from the Empire. Here lies his office, though the headmaster himself isn't here at the moment; last I have heard, he should be returning from a business trip further north in Faerghus. As for the professors…"

The newly-minted instructor waited until they made it to a corridor leading to several rooms. "…they should be in their offices at this time of the day. The first room to the left is Professor Ralf Leonhard Hildebrandt's office, and the one across it is Professor Hanneman von Essar's. Ahead lies Professor Manuela Casagranda's own office, which happens to double as a small infirmary. As for the smaller offices, most belong to instructors such as myself… though I have yet to earn my own place here. As of now, I make do with a small room in the first-floor dormitories, alongside the common-born students."

Arthur furrowed his brows as fresh-faced young men and women in near-identical black, blue, and white uniforms passed them by. Most paid them no mind, some waved hello to Byleth, others goggled at the two of them as though stunned by their appearance, and more than a handful took one glance in their direction and started fleeing the other way.

"What the hell's wrong with these young fellers? A bunch of 'em was actin' all weird."

Byleth shook her head. "I… do not know. They did not act like this during my class earlier in the day."

"Must be because of me. Don't worry about it, then." He sighed. "Listen, girl, I oughta tell you somethin'. About this place, 'bout the archbishop, and what Jeralt told me over some drinks back before… well, y'know."

Byleth's eyes widened at that, but before she could get a word in, they were interrupted by the sharp clacking of heels against the floor.

"Instructor Eisner," One student, a rather short, white-haired girl with lilac eyes and wearing a red-trimmed, gold-braided uniform, was the first to approach them openly. "Pardon me for interrupting, but I have been searching the monastery for you. Is this not a good time?"

"Your highness," Byleth briefly lowered her head in greeting to this peculiar student, before setting her sights back to her companion. "Sorry, Arthur. Do you mind giving us a moment?"

Deciding that it wasn't wise to get entangled in Garreg Mach affairs even more than he already had, Arthur made to stand aside, already eyeing a nearby wall to lean on. "Just pretend I ain't here, kid."

"Hold a moment, good man," The student held up a gloved hand before Arthur could make another move. He looked back to see her studying him intently, a curious expression on her pale face. "Your name is Arthur, is it not? Might I be correct in assuming you are Arthur Morgan, the mercenary responsible for preventing a catastrophic loss for the Alliance in their recent conflict with Almyra?"

Arthur squinted at the student. "That's my name, and I was a mercenary, sure enough. Not too sure about the rest of what you said, though."

Byleth petulantly folded her arms and rolled her eyes. "Arthur, this is Princess Edelgard, daughter of Emperor Ionius and his heir apparent. Your highness, this is my good friend and mentor, Arthur Morgan." She sighed. "Please don't mind his exhausting habit for devaluing himself and downplaying his accomplishments — Arthur is responsible for slaying the Almyran warlord and ending the conflict, among other such deeds."

"So I have heard, despite the claims of other, less than convincing sources." The student, apparently the future head of the Adrestian Empire herself, extended her hand to Arthur, who in turn could only stare in bewilderment. "I have been meaning to make your acquaintance for some time, Mr. Morgan. I must say, you appear as impressive as some of the reports from the east make you out to be."

Wary of the intentions of such a powerful figure, Arthur did not dare to leave the diminutive princess' offered hand unshaken, even if he had to bend down a little. "Nice to meet you, my lady. I take you're gettin' sword lessons from uh, Instructor Eisner?"

"I'm afraid not," Princess Edelgard retracted her hand. "…but that is something I hope to change, starting today." She then turned to Byleth. "Instructor? I have decided to go against Professor Hildebrandt's… guidance, if one can call it that."

Byleth arched a cobalt brow. "What do you mean?"

"I have seen what you can do, and if what you've demonstrated during your class earlier today was any indication, it is obvious that I would be much better off having you for a fencing instructor, rather than Lord Paulus."

"This is… most surprising, your highness. I was under the impression that most students would rather be taught by someone like Lord Paulus. Are you certain of your choice?"

"Hrm. That man is a talented swordmaster, to be sure. But then again, so are you. And when was the last time he marched under a banner, or even stepped foot on a battlefield?" The princess frowned as she glanced aside, her chin tilted up. "He seems to be under some kind of childish fantasy, where warriors fought for prestige and some vague notion of justice, instead of something far simpler and infinitely more practical. Survival, to name one such thing."

Byleth looked to Arthur, then back towards Edelgard. "So be it, then. I will have to explain why you are in my class to Professor Hildebrandt, but…"

"My opinion of that spineless laggard is even lower than Paulus'. He is more focused on attempting to grovel before nobility instead of tending to his responsibilities." Edelgard pressed, scoffing haughtily. "Let him see the results of your tutelage and seethe. I will protect you."

Arthur looked on approvingly, though he remained on his guard around this princess. He had long since learned that powerful figures don't tend to approach others without ulterior motives. "Just who was this Hildebrandt feller? Might want to see him for myself."

"Scoping out the staff, Mr. Morgan?" Edelgard then turned to Arthur, giving him a pensive expression. "I was wondering what brought you to Garreg Mach. Were you perhaps employed by the Church of Seiros to inspect the academy staff's quality of work?"

Arthur felt like recoiling at the idea. "Ehh, I ain't lookin' to work for the church any time soon, yer highness. And believe me, that kinda work ain't what I'm good for. I'm just here to look out for Byleth."

"Oh?" A smirk. Not a good sign. "Well, perhaps I may offer some insight on Professor Hildebrandt, who so happened to be the most opposed among the academy staff to her inclusion in their ranks. I have heard it is something to do with her low birth, her inexperience as a teacher, and her youth."

Byleth looked startled, though only for a moment. "Is this true? The professor had been nothing but cordial to me… at least, in person."

"Make no mistake, Instructor Eisner… the walls have ears in this monastery, and a few of those ears happen to hear on my behalf." Edelgard said, as casually as one would discuss the weather. "I have reason to believe that this man is looking to find a way to discredit you, as the archbishop herself had made it clear that she expects you to remain here as part of some… agreement. If he cannot remove you, then at least he could ensure that your reputation is ruined, and you will have no students to teach."

"Right, I've heard enough." Arthur shook his head. He resolved to pay this professor a visit later, to see if Edelgard's words did ring true, and if she could be trusted. "Ms. Eisner, would there be more of them bastards here tryin' to give you a hard time?"

"Not to my face, no. All the academy and church staff I interacted with had either been kind and helpful like Professor Casagranda, or indifferent like some of the instructors and knights." The girl said, shrugging. "Now, I am not so sure. Perhaps they hide their contempt behind false faces, like Professor Hildebrandt?"

"Don't worry about 'em. Leave those people to me." He said, before regarding the Imperial heiress in their midst. "Princess Edelgard? Thanks for tellin' us about those… ears, and that thing with Hildebrandt, too. I haven't stayed here long, but I know for sure that Byleth can't afford to let her guard down 'round here."

"One would be prudent to always expect intrigue in places such as this, Mr. Morgan. Especially now, with so many offspring of nobles concentrated here at once." Edelgard said, eyes closed and with a finger up as though giving a much-needed lecture. "Well, this certainly had been an interesting exchange. I will see you in class tomorrow, Instructor Eisner… and I hope to see your companion another time. Though before I leave, I will admit to some confusion…"

Byleth blinked. "Yes, your highness?"

"I hope you understand that I mean no offence, and it is not my wish to pry too much into what is clearly your business alone, but… are you… um," The princess seemed to hesitate. A most unexpected sight, for someone who seemed so composed and assured of herself. "Are the two of you… ehem, as "involved", like certain rumours insist upon?

"Goddammit." Arthur huffed in annoyance. Even now, this horrid thing plagued them. "We ain't like that, princess. Not at all."

"We are close, but not that kind of close." Byleth said, in her usual emotionless tone. "Why do you ask?"

Arthur's brows shot up when he noticed Edelgard's pale face beginning to redden. "Got somethin' you wanna tell us, yer highness?"

"No, no, I've heard everything I need to hear." The princess was quick to say as she pivoted on her heel. "Enjoy the rest of your day, my friends."

Arthur watched Edelgard leave, then looked down to his fellow ex-mercenary. "Think I'll keep an eye on that one, too."

"You needn't be so concerned for my safety here, Arthur." Byleth said as she turned to him. "I am a simple instructor, and the newest, least important one at that. I hold so little influence, and Princess Edelgard is so far above me, that I fail to see the reason why she would include me in whatever scheme she might be planning during her stay here… though I wonder why she did not answer my question as to why she seemed so interested in those persistent rumours about us."

"Yeah, I wonder why..." Arthur drawled. "But sure, I don't think she's a threat to you just yet. It's that goddamn professor and the other staff I'm worried about."

Byleth smiled. "It hasn't been a day since you returned, and you have already returned to fussing over me."

"Can't help myself, kid. I can back off and start actin' aloof, if you want."

"Ah, but that is the opposite of what I want. I am out of my element and surrounded by unfamiliarity. But with you around and keeping watch on my behalf, everything feels almost… normal. Like old times."

Arthur sighed longingly. "Right. Can't believe I'm missing those days when I was coughin' my lungs out every couple of steps and downing those god-awful bottles Tekla keeps handing me." With a grunt, he shook his head. "No use thinkin' about it now. Like I said, you should be careful 'round here. This ain't a safe place, no matter how pretty it looks."

"How so, Mr. Morgan? Ignoring that I am more than capable of defending myself, I also have Lady Rhea to watch my back from whatever schemes the people here might have in store for me."

"That's another thing. Rhea's puttin' on a friendly face for us, but I don't trust that woman, and neither should you. Matter of fact, the farther we are from her, the better off we'll be."

"You will have to explain."

Arthur looked around until he was content that no one around was watching them. "I'm planning to, but not here in the open — like that girl said, we never know who might be keepin' an ear out for us. Why don't you show me the rest of the monastery, so I can get a feel for it. Might find ourselves somewhere quiet in the meantime, where we could talk without anyone else listenin' in."

"Of that, I am happy to do." The girl nodded. "Follow me."

Arthur obediently trailed after Byleth as she took him from the academy offices to the infirmary, which was almost completely empty aside from a few monks and nuns on cleaning duty.

"Almost expected to see Tekla here…" Arthur said, as they turned to leave.

"You might, in time. Lady Rhea offered her a spot in the academy as a student, you know." Byleth replied, to Arthur's surprise. "Unlike Shez and Victor, she refused. But there is a girl from the recent intake of students from Faerghus that seemed to have made her reconsider, from the last time we talked. I believe her name is Mercedes."

Arthur furrowed his brows. "Not just Tekla, but Shez and Sturges are here, too? Shit."

"You seem displeased. I had thought you would have liked…"

"No, it ain't that I wouldn't like to see them here, it's that we all shouldn't be here. This is the last place we should be."

"…and why is that?"

"This still ain't the place to talk, sweetheart. Just keep showin' me around, and we'll get there."

They then made their way to the library, where Arthur was surprised to see another face he recognised.

"Wait, that ain't the angry little girl from Ordelia, ain't it?"

"Oh, Lady Lysithea. Hello."

Lysithea von Ordelia was surrounded by books when Arthur and Byleth found her. Most were laying on surfaces, as books should. Others were floating in place around the little girl, diligently keeping themselves opened and ready for consumption as she devoured the one she already had in her hands.

"Salutations, Ms. Eisner." Despite her cordial tone, Lysithea didn't bother to look up, so engrossed she was in her reading material. "I don't suppose you've seen Victor? He went down to the dining hall to bring us something to eat, but he has not returned. I'm starting to feel quite hungry…"

Arthur smirked. "Why not put the book down and go after 'im, then?"

"Wha— Mr. Morgan!" Upon looking up from her book, Lysithea was understandably startled to see the outlaw. "You are… you are here. Alive."

"Surprised to see you, too." The outlaw said, taking off his hat. "Would've thought you'd be out there, taking the fight to the Agarthans."

"But that is what I am doing now." Lysithea held up her book, revealing them to be filled with incomprehensible letters and glowing arcane runes. "I may be here to study and train, but that is no excuse to put our efforts to dismantle those scheming, murdering fiends on hold."

"Right. I have no idea what you're tryin' to show me there," Arthur drawled as Lysithea rolled her eyes and held the book above her head, causing it to float alongside the others of its kind. "But do let me know if you need my help for… uh, whatever reason."

The little Ordelian girl looked pleased, for once. "I doubt I'll have many uses for you in the arcane front of our struggle, but I will certainly make use of your brawn from time to time. You may have just recently defied all odds and came back from what would have been a death sentence for most, but that only means you are still in the fight!"

"Heh, that I am."

"Also, you may want to speak with Ferdinand. I imagine he would be quite pleased to be proven right, in believing you would pull through."

"Wait, Ferdinand's here, too?"

"Yes, and I believe he has just recently arrived, amidst the latest intake of students from the Empire. I am willing to bet a sweet treat you will encounter him patrolling the grounds, to get used to his new surroundings."

Arthur scoffed light-heartedly. "Sounds like an easy bet."

Byleth nodded. "If you're hungry, I could bring you a treat from—"

Arthur elbowed her. "The girl could use some exercise."

After another round of pleasantries and bidding farewell to Lysithea, Byleth then took Arthur further down the building, all the way to the ground floor. It was there, as they made their way out of the central building and into the courtyard, where they encountered a large gathering of students and a handful of academy staff, the latter of which appeared to be giving tours for the former.

"Form into three lines in accordance with your nation of origin, boys and girls!" A stately-looking soldier dressed in ornate plate armour sans a helmet exclaimed at the clamouring throng of young people before him. "I am Sir Manfred Schaefer of the Knights of Seiros. You may address me as Instructor Schaefer, for I will be one of your flight instructors… to those so inclined to take the arduous, and often painful journey of earning a wyvern's trust, to be considered its rider and master."

"And to the girls here who dream of touching the clouds and turning your foes into ugly red splatters on the ground, you will be seeing a lot of me: Lady Eris Helene Schildknecht!" A woman wearing the same armour and uniform as Lieutenant Yarrow excitedly gestured at herself. "Sorry, boys, but pegasi do not respond well to men. They tend to… err, get a little rowdy, when a man tries to get on their backs. Violently. Rowdy."

More than a few prospective pegasus riders in the crowd expressed their disappointment. A few of the boys started to cry.

Arthur shook his head. "We'd best get moving, Ms. Eisner."

Byleth exchanged words with some of her fellow instructors before returning to Arthur. "This way, then."

Arthur took in the sights as Byleth led him further into the monastery, taking care to avoid crowds and the like. He could vaguely recall hearing Victor saying he would find the monastery to his liking, and as much as he scoffed at the notion, he still couldn't help but find much beauty in his carefully-cultivated surroundings. From the courtyard they were treading, to the gilded spires and towers surrounding them, and all the way to the distant horizon where the snowy mountaintops could be seen… not a single shape seemed out of place. He imagined a photographer like Albert Mason could happily spend years in Garreg Mach, for there were plenty of sights here that one would find worthy of preserving, and without the risk of getting attacked by the local wildlife.

"Just ahead are where the horses and pegasi are kept, Mr. Morgan." Byleth eventually took him to the eastern side of the monastery, and the familiar scent of horse manure clued Arthur in that they were headed to the stables long before she mentioned it. "Well, the horses and pegasi belonging to the monks and nuns, that is. The knights keep their own stables outside the monastery. Perhaps we should skip this one."

"Naw, it's fine. Let's have a look." Arthur insisted. "They don't keep wyverns here, do they?"

"That would be foolish. The wyverns would devour the horses and bloody themselves trying to do the same to the pegasi." Byleth explained. "Would you like to—"

Arthur held up a hand. "Oh, uh, I'll skip those stables, thanks."

Once there, Arthur took a deep breath and imagined himself approaching Boadicea as he let one of the horses take a sniff of his hand. He couldn't help but laugh when the beast attempted to bite him as he snatched his hand away at the last moment. "Good try, girl."

Moving into the next stall over, he then imagined the horse contained therein to be Buell, as he reached up to let the stallion sniff his hand. When the beast let out a nicker of satisfaction and made no move to bite him, Arthur smiled as he attempted to give the brave creature a pat on the head. "That's a good boy…"

"…Arthur?"

"Gimme a sec, Ms. Eisner, I'm just—"

Arthur stood frozen as he looked behind his shoulder. Slowly, he retracted his hand and turned around. "Marianne. That, uh… that you? Been a while, girl."

Dressed in the blouse and skirt of a student, Marianne von Edmund simply stood in place, her mouth quivering, eyes beginning to water. A whimpered sob was all the warning Arthur received before she moved towards him, and despite himself, he got down on a knee and extended his arms to receive the girl's embrace.

"Hey, now… what's all this? I missed you too, but, why the tears? Please don't cry…"

"But he… h-he said… he said y-you were dead, and…"

"Well, I ain't. I got hurt, sure, but I pulled through. Now, enough with the weeping, girl! I ain't... urgh, I'm not worth sheddin' tears for."

Marianne sniffled, leaning into his body. "I thought you might've… because of me, you…"

"For chrissakes, how could that be your fault? You ain't even there, and thank God for that. That whole business in Goneril… well, it got real ugly in the end." Arthur sighed as he rubbed circles on her back. "Just breathe. It's alright, girl. I'm here, and I ain't goin' nowhere."

"O-okay. I'm… I'm fine."

"Goddammit, what'd I tell you back then? Shoulda just forgotten about me."

Marianne shuddered as she let out a relieved breath. "How could I forget you, Arthur? You saved my life."

With a sniff, she let go of him, though his eyes immediately grew wide with concern as they parted. "Wait, hang on a moment. Let's take a look at you, girl."

Arthur's frown deepened as he examined Marianne. She looked like she had been sleeping less than Byleth, and likely eating less, too. It was a small comfort that she managed to look a small deal better than when they first met, in that time where she was being held captive by a certain Agarthan assassin.

"Hell, what's been happening with you?" He uttered in exasperated concern, as she lowered her head in resignation. "You're a damn mess, and I don't say that 'cause I wanna be mean." He looked around, spying a nearby chair likely belonging to the local farrier. "C'mere. Take a seat, let's get this done."

The stables made for a dismal place for his impromptu task of tidying up a nobleman's adoptive daughter, but the daughter in question hardly seemed to mind, and even managed a strained smile as he wiped away her tears with a rag and set about with smoothing out the tangles in her hair, or at least attempted to. Understanding that the latter task was impossible without a brush, Arthur realised the best thing he could do here was to remember all those times Mary-Beth asked him to fix her hair.

"Right, gonna have to undo this braid, but I'll fix it up, good as new. Got a style in mind, too. Lady-friend taught me."

"If you think it's best, Mr. Morgan."

The process should have taken Arthur an hour at the very least, but judging from his pocket watch, he seemed to have finished in a little more than half the time it should have taken.

"Well, uh, I reckon we're done. Yeah." He was surprised at how quickly his hands seemed to work, even though he took care to be gentle with them. By the end, Marianne no longer looked as shabby and dishevelled as before, and even looked a little like Mary-Beth herself, from her new Gibson tuck combined with her usual crown braid. If only she would frown less and sleep more, perhaps. "You alright there, Marianne?"

"I feel much better." The girl said as the outlaw helped her up from the farrier's chair. "Thank you. I'm sure I look quite, um, presentable."

"You'll just have to find a mirror to see it, but I think it looks great on you." Arthur put up a smile, which faltered momentarily. "Listen, I… gotta go. I've got a friend I was with before you caught me."

"It's alright, Mr. Morgan, I understand." She nodded, taking another breath to keep steady. "To see you like this is… well, it breaks my heart. But you survived, and that's all that matters."

"Yeah. Guess that's true." Arthur noticed she seemed to be avoiding his gaze. "Don't be scared, girl. I wasn't mad at you. I'm only concerned, is all."

"Um, no, it's not that I'm scared of you, and I'm sorry for making you worry. It's just that… well…" She gestured at his head. "Is… is your eye okay? The right one, I mean."

"What's wrong with it? Haven't had time to look at myself lately. Is it bad?"

"I'm afraid so. You have a lot more scars than usual, and… one of them runs directly across your eye, and it looks very… um, white."

Arthur felt his heart sink as he realised just why people seemed more horrified at him than usual. "Oh." Holding up a hand to signal that he meant her no harm, the outlaw used his other hand to slowly draw his knife by its sheathe, before holding it up to his eyes and looking at his reflection. "...yeah, that tracks."

Sighing, he put the blade away. "Well, I'm surprised you could still recognise me, girl. Now I look as ugly on the outside, as I was on the inside."

"Please don't say things like that." She was quick to say, in an uncharacteristically assertive tone. "You are far from ugly. I thought you were dashing before, and that hasn't changed. If anything, I think you're even more… o-oh, um… s-sorry, I…"

Arthur put the back of his fist over his mouth to smother a laugh as he watched her trail off suddenly, as her face started to grow flush. "Alright, you can stop there, Marianne. No need to butter me up, save it for other kids your age. Plenty of 'em to go around, last I saw."

Marianne tried to speak, but was clearly too embarrassed to continue. Instead, she took a step back, then another, before she hurriedly rushed out of the stables, leaving Arthur shaking his head in sombre amusement.

"Lost an eye…" He mumbled as he watched the girl leave and dart out of sight. "…goddammit."

"It did not feel right to mention it," Arthur was too absorbed in his thoughts to be surprised when Byleth appeared by his side, having had somehow managed to stay out of sight in a corner somewhere. "For what it's worth, I do not think you are affected by its loss overmuch."

"Everything has a price to pay. This is just another part of the payment." He said, trying to put some levity in his tone. "Sorry I kinda ditched you back there, miss. Didn't think I'd be seein' that girl any time soon."

"She looked like a student, though not one of mine. Her name is Marianne, no? The two of you seem… close."

"Ah… well, that ain't the case. Marianne's just, ehum, a little too attached. Not that I blame her — I did save her life from Kronya, even if that pale bitch only went after her so she could get to me. Guess I just kinda feel responsible for her, if that makes any sense."

"I do recall you telling me about that contract. It is the one you undertook with Shez, is it not? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see her in Garreg Mach, considering who her father must be."

"That'll be Margrave Edmund, yeah. So… where to next, Ms. Eisner?"

Without further ado, Byleth proceeded to take Arthur away from the stables and through a collection of walls and towers manned by knights, past a herd of cats circled around a little girl handing out treats, and into a bustling marketplace, which was an unusual sight for Arthur. He always believed temples and places of commerce shouldn't be placed near one another. From what he could tell, the marketplace appeared impossible to avoid as well, if one wishes to both enter or leave the monastery grounds.

"They sell an extraordinarily diverse collection of goods here," Byleth spoke as she led him through the area. "The textile merchants, in particular, sell satin and velvet fabrics alongside cotton and wool. I had been busy in my downtime attempting to mend the clothes we have left damaged during our time in the Alliance, and I wouldn't have accomplished much if not for these stores."

Arthur looked to where Byleth had pointed, seeing a collection of men and women peddling their fabrics on colourful stalls.

"Y'mean you was going through my clothes, too? Small wonder why my trunk's in such a messy state when I opened it."

"Ah, well, my apologies, I had thought you..."

"Heh, I'm just needling you, kid. I appreciate it, you do good work. Say, do these people sell actual clothes, too? Dunno how, but my usual sets don't fit too good no more... like I've grown a size after spendin' a week doing nothin' but lift logs, or somesuch."

"Well, in that case, you need not worry. I am more than capable of resizing your clothes as well."

"That's great and all, but you already got enough on your plate with these little fellers running 'round."

Byleth was quiet for a moment, her face growing paler by the second as though something was eating at her. "Arthur? I'll fix your clothes, and you may consider my services free of charge. It is the least I could do."

Arthur noticed her change in expression, as well as the slight hitch in her voice. He reminded himself to ask her about it later, as soon as they were in a less crowded setting. "Alright, if you insist. Thanks, miss."

After the quick tour of the marketplace, the two of them proceeded to an enormous body of water that appeared to be linked into a river in the mountains, complete with a small wharf and a quaint-looking aqueduct. Byleth explained that the monks sometimes catch live fish from elsewhere in Fódlan and release them into the pond, which ran deep into the mountains and well past underground.

"Jesus. Who knows what kinda monsters could be lurkin' under there."

"I once saw a fish the size of an aurochs along the surface of the water. I wouldn't recommend dipping your feet here."

Afterwards, they marched a few paces east to the nearby greenhouse, which was spacious enough to include a space for students to gather and socialise, with tables and chairs for those so inclined to stay amidst the greenery. At the moment, the place was deserted... save for two figures clad in student garb.

"Ferdinand-sama... our comrades approach." Without her armour, hat, and mask, Mayu looked markedly different, and her younger age became more obvious. Her hair was also glossier, and the pins keeping its considerable length in order now appear to be made out of polished silver instead of wood. As for the Mayu's student uniform, it looked unremarkable aside from being cut to accommodate her lithe figure, though her jacket appeared to have been custom-tailored to have unusually voluminous sleeves with rounded corners.

"Indeed?" The lord in question appeared to be in the middle of drinking his tea when the former mercenaries entered the greenhouse. "Ah, and here they are indeed! Praise the goddess."

As Ferdinand looked behind his shoulder, Arthur shook his head upon seeing how terrible the boy looked. "Lotta kids these days ain't getting 'nough sleep, looks like."

"Well," Despite his apparent fatigue, Ferdinand's ear-to-ear grin lit up the room. "My work these days gives me plenty of reason to stay awake, long into the night. But that is a topic for another, less joyous occasion such as this: our long-awaited reunion! How are you feeling, Mr. Morgan?"

"I'm fine, and I wouldn't worry about this, kid." He gestured at his scars and his long-dead eye. "I'm still in the fight, and you can bet I'm ready to get back into it."

"That is gratifying to hear, my friend." Ferdinand nodded as he turned around in full, revealing that he was wearing a breastplate over his student's uniform. Also, unlike most students, the young lord carried a sheathed arming sword by his side, and it looked far too worn to be merely decorative. "And as for you, Ms. Eisner, to see you once more, but no longer burdened by sorrow and anger... I cannot help but feel as though the goddess truly does listen to my prayers. May I ask if you are here as a student, just as we are?"

"Not quite. I hold early morning and evening classes in fencing and duelling." Byleth said, looking quite flattered that Ferdinand kept her in his prayers.

"Ah, so you are here as an instructor! I am pleased to see that you are willing to teach others how to wield a blade as you do." Ferdinand said. Contrary to his words, Arthur could detect some measure of disappointment in the lord's voice upon hearing that Byleth had become a teacher instead of a student. "Indeed, with any luck, I hope to be given the chance to learn from you. There is still much I feel I should improve."

"Well, I hope you two get the chance to spend more time together," Arthur shook his head, deciding to leave it be and focus on more pressing matters. "But, uh, what's with the armour and the sword you got there? You look dressed for a fight."

"Agarthans, Morgan-san." Mayu spoke up from her spot. Ever since Arthur and Byleth showed up, she seemed to have returned to her previous task of surveying the perimeter. "That one you spared — the orange-haired murderess. She attacked us in Castle Aegir. I was caught off-guard, and my lord was left to defend himself on his own." She grimaced, a determined gleam shining in her eyes. "Never again."

"Again, my lady, I must remind you that you did all you could, and for all your skill and combat experience, you remain as human as the rest of us." Ferdinand said, trying to be encouraging despite his exasperated tone. "You must learn to accept that you can never truly keep protecting me at all times."

"Perhaps not, but I can try." Mayu then replied, stubborn as ever. Arthur realised Ferdinand must have been busy teaching her Fódlanese over the past couple of moons, given her significantly increased mastery of the language. She even appeared to have picked up on some of his speech patterns. "Let the assassin test me again. This time, she will not walk away."

"The assassin? You mean Kronya." Arthur muttered the assassin's name in grave distaste. He was beginning to dislike being reminded that they had no choice but to let her depart with her life, so she could hunt him and Ferdinand down in the future. "Goddammit. The crazy bitch must've gone straight to Aegir and waited to get the drop on you."

"But she did not wait." Ferdinand sighed, setting his cup down on a nearby table. "To my horror, I discovered upon our arrival to Castle Aegir that she had already slain several guards and a handful of Astral Knights... those ones tasked with defending my father from assassins. They were found wanting against an opponent like her, and by the time I arrived to defend him... it was too late."

"We then fought the assassin. She seemed stronger. More focused. I did not expect her to break through my defence and put me out of the fight. I bear the reminder of this failure on my neck." Mayu shifted down her collar and exposed her throat, showing a new scar where an edged weapon had cut before.

"It was a battle hard-fought, but in the end, I managed to land enough blows to force Kronya to flee. After summoning the knights and rendering aid for Mayu and what few of my father's retainers who remain alive, I realised he... well, he is alive, and last I heard from my retainers in Castle Aegir, he lives still..."

Arthur frowned. "But…?"

"His injuries... they have rendered my father completely incapable." Ferdinand concluded, his shoulders slumping. "He has lost a lot of blood, and suffered a tremendous blow to the head. It has been two moons since then, and he still has not awoken… indeed, the chances of him regaining consciousness are bleak, at best."

The boy ran his hand through his hair. "It may not be long before I am no longer my father's heir, but rather, his successor."

Byleth looked away, a pained expression on her face. "If you hadn't had to spend so much time getting a carriage for us..."

"No. This is not your fault, Ms. Eisner." Ferdinand said, shaking his head firmly. "If there is blame to be had here, it lies firmly on his shoulders alone. My father was an opportunistic, immoral monster, and if he must spend the rest of his foreshortened life confined to his bed and withering to dust, then so be it." He scowled bitterly, his next words dripping with vitriol. "Thus always to tyrants."

From his curt tone to his miserable expression, Arthur could tell Ferdinand was trying very hard to convince himself that his father deserved such a fate. While Duke Aegir's misdeeds were uncountable, it was obvious that his son loved him very much regardless.

"If you need anything at all, Ferdinand, just say the word. Even if it is just to express your frustrations or share your thoughts." Byleth didn't seem fooled by Ferdinand's bluster, either. "After everything you have done for me, you could always count on my aid. And even if the professors do not see it fit to have you attend my classes, as an instructor, I am able to…"

The young lord looked more and more alarmed as Byleth continued to speak. "The sentiment is much appreciated, Ms. Eisner, but the fact remains that an instructor should not be giving students special treatment, nor should they exhibit such familiarity."

"But you are not just a student to me. You are my friend—"

"I know, Byleth. Believe me, I know. Forgive me, but while I remain a student and you remain a part of the academy's staff, I ask that you do not treat me any differently from those others of my kind. Such conduct is… most unbecoming, and it would be wrong for me to take advantage of it. Surely you understand."

Arthur could not resist rolling his eyes. "Damn it, Ferdinand, you make me want to put my head through a wall sometimes. The girl's giving you a break — forget about your pride and take it. Take my word for it, you look like you need all the breaks you can get."

Byleth elbowed him, hard enough for him to realise this was her second attempt in getting his attention. "Arthur, no. As much as it pains me to say it, I think he's right. And besides, to decline my aid is his choice to make."

The outlaw sighed through his nose. "Hrm, whatever you say. Ain't in the mood for arguin' this." He craned his head to look at Ferdinand again, crossing his arms over his chest. "What about that dukedom of yours? Ludwig's a vegetable, and you're here for… I dunno, a year? I'm still tryin' to wrap my head around how this goddamn school works."

Ferdinand took a deep breath. "Every four years or so, the Church of Seiros opens its doors to enrolees for the Officers Academy, from both the nobility and the common folk. It is a convention that was originally established as a response to the threat of invasion from the east, and ever since then…"

"Jesus, I wasn't really asking for a history lesson, kid." Arthur drawled. "I was just lookin' to ask who's in charge of Aegir, now that Ludwig ain't doin' much no more. Don't tell me you're also dealing with your new responsibilities there with your studies here… 'cause honestly? I wouldn't be surprised if you said so."

"Ah, but no, of course not. I may have a habit of taking to my duties without complaint, but even I know my limits." Ferdinand explained. "My father's seneschal and vassal, Count Wenzel von Talsace, will rule Aegir in my stead as regent until I finish my studies here, hopefully with the knowledge of how to properly govern my people as a true noble should – not just as their lord, but also as their guardian and benefactor."

"I see you are truly committed to making the best use of your time here as a student, then." Byleth remarked, with a satisfied nod. "I expected nothing less from you."

"I am here to learn, and to train. Even so, I will continue to disrupt the Agarthans in any way I could, alongside Lady Lysithea." He let out a breath, his gaze wandering to the depths of the greenhouse. "I suppose I should find her before the day ends. I do not suppose…"

"We did see her. She's in the library, on the sixth floor of the central building northeast of here." Byleth said.

"Ah, then that is where I will be." The young lord then turned to his retainer and fellow student. "Mayu, perhaps it is best if we continue our survey of the monastery grounds separately. We can cover more ground in that way."

Mayu furrowed her brows in concern. "Are you not worried of assassins here?"

For once, Ferdinand did not seem too enthused at being shadowed by Mayu. "I would not be wearing armour and carrying a weapon if I am not, but I believe some time away from my side would do you some good, my lady."

Her eyes widened. "With respect, Ferdinand-sama, the Agarthans…"

"Will not find me wanting, never fear." The young lord cut her off, in an uncharacteristically bloodthirsty growl. "Recent events have made me feeling quite partial to some violence, and if I have to maim an assassin or two on my way to the library, I will not hesitate. There will be blood, and it won't be mine."

Mayu was silent after that, only lowering her head in response.

Ferdinand sighed. When he next spoke, he sounded regretful. "You must not forget that I brought you here not to keep me protected from our foes, but so you may become more accustomed to living in our society. After all, you cannot very well spend your whole life shadowing me."

"I understand. But that is the entire purpose of my order — to shield others from threats. I already failed once, long ago… and now, I almost failed again."

"I will be fine, my lady. Please do not force me into ordering you to take your leave of me."

"That is… unnecessary. I will obey." Mayu said, but she was clearly unhappy. "Be cautious, Lord Ferdinand. Please remain on your guard."

"You can come with us, Mayu." Byleth offered. "I am already showing Arthur around before we encountered you here."

Arthur would find the situation funny, if Mayu did not look so dejected. "I'm sure he can make it to the library on his own without getting himself killed, girl. Come along."

Mayu eyed them, took a breath, and immediately regained her usual unperturbed mien. "I will go. Thank you, Eisner-san."

And with that, the four of them departed the greenhouse together, with Ferdinand quickly taking his leave and heading northeast, as per Byleth's instructions. Arthur watched Mayu look at Ferdinand as he left, her eyes tracking him until he disappeared from sight behind a wall.

"Maybe you can show us where we can get something to eat 'round here." Arthur said, not because he was hungry, but because food might help keep Mayu from feeling too down.

"I certainly could. The dining hall is just nearby." Byleth said. "Good call, Mr. Morgan. I am feeling peckish all the sudden..."

"That's a surprise."

"Indeed. I have been craving food more often, though I do not know why."

"Really, now? Uhh... you haven't been making friends with boys now, have you?"

"No, I am much too busy to socialise these recent days. This might be the longest I've talked in a while. Why do you ask?"

"Forget I asked."

Upon reaching the dining hall, Arthur flinched at the wall of sound that greeted him as soon as they walked into its threshold. At this time of the day, the hall was packed with students, clergy, knights, and academy staff. Packs of dogs and cats could be found prowling the spaces between the dining areas as well, as the critters waited for those seated to throw them morsels and leftover scraps off their plates.

"Where are we even gonna find a spot to sit here?" He asked out loud, to no one in particular.

"Instructor Eisner! Over here!"

As though in answer to Arthur's question, a voice coming from a nearby table beckoned at them. Turning his head to see who it belonged to, Arthur saw a female student, with green eyes, long blonde hair done up in a large braid, and an amiable expression.

"Come sit! Plenty of space!"

A second student looked to be about Lysithea's age. Certainly, she was just as short and petite as the little Ordelian girl, though she looked significantly friendlier, with a full head of green hair styled into a pair of large curls.

"Especially for a pair of beautiful ladies!"

The third and last student at the table, a young man about Byleth's age with red, messy hair, immediately drew Arthur's attention. He didn't seem to notice the outlaw's withering glare as he continued to shamelessly leer at both Byleth and Mayu.

"Sylvain, Ingrid. Hello again. And good day to you, Flayn." Byleth dipped her head in greeting. "Would you mind if the three of us sat by your table? We should be on our way quickly."

The third student, apparently called Sylvain, grinned at that. "Aww, why not stay a while? I promise to make for some entertaining comp— ow!"

"Sylvain, enough." The first student said, after elbowing her friend in the ribs. "I thought you said you won't behave like this during our stay here."

"Did I say that? That's pretty out of character for me, Ingrid." Sylvain said, his cheeky grin faltering only slightly despite his pain. "W-wait, don't hit me again!"

Ingrid made a noise of disgust as she turned away from Sylvain, to regard Byleth. "You won't be able to find seats otherwise, from how crowded the dining hall is today. And don't worry about Sylvain — if he can behave around Flayn, he can behave around you."

"Many thanks." Byleth gestured for Arthur and Mayu to get seated.

The younger girl, Flayn, gawked openly at Arthur as he approached their table. "You are... quite the formidable figure, mister. Would you happen to be one of the knights, by any chance? One of those recruited during the crusade in the east?"

"No, not really." Arthur said as he deliberately sat next to Sylvain, who briefly looked very startled upon getting a good look at the outlaw. "I'm just here to look out for Ms. Eisner."

Byleth smiled. "Play nice now, everyone. I'll be back with our food. Mayu, what do you prefer to eat?"

Mayu sat next to Flayn, across Sylvain. "Food is food, Eisner-san."

As the girl strode off to the serving counter, Sylvain looked aside to Arthur, a challenging smirk on his face. "So... how long have you known our lovely sword instructor, my huge friend?"

Arthur didn't deign to look back at the young man. "Long enough. Sylvain, right?"

"The one and only, Sylvain Jose Gautier, at your service."

"Sure you are, kid. Call me Arthur."

Ingrid sighed. "He's really not so bad once you get to know him, mister." She then sat up on her seat, quite literally wiping the exasperated look on her face. "I'm Ingrid, of House Galatea."

"Galatea? Good to meet you, then." Arthur nodded sombrely. He had been to Faerghan county, and recalled how miserable the living conditions were for the commoners there due to a persistent blight upon the land. "I did some mercenary work for your father, 'round a year back."

"Truly? I recall only a single time we were forced to hire mercenaries, and that was indeed a year before."

"Yeah. Remembered it was about this bunch of farmers who thought they'd be better off holdin' folks up, instead of workin' the land. I roughed up the worst of the lot and told the rest to go home."

Ingrid looked surprised. "That was you? I remember my father being astounded that all the peasants returned with their lives. He expected you to just kill them — that was what most mercenaries would do."

"They was just a bunch of starving, desperate folks." Arthur shrugged. "Scarin' them off was enough."

"That must have taken a great deal of restraint, Mr. Arthur!" Flayn said, setting her empty, fishbone-ridden plate aside. "It would have been all too easy to kill them, but you went out of your way to do what was right!"

Arthur looked over to Mayu, who was pointedly ignoring everything around her. He grumbled in annoyance. "I wouldn't say I, uh, "went out of my way", kid. Those folks was carryin' pitchforks and some of the men was so thin, you could see the outline of their ribs through their shirts. Only a real bastard would solve this problem with killing."

"Even so, your conduct was becoming of a knight, mister." Ingrid remarked. "Perhaps my father should've paid you with knighthood, instead of coin."

Arthur frowned. "That'd be a mistake, my lady. I've got a lot more in common with those bandits than any goddamn knight."

It was then that Byleth arrived with a tray, stacked with more than enough food for the three of them. Taking her place next to Ingrid and handing Arthur his plate, the girl wasted no time going through her own meal with a frenzied haste that was nothing short of concerning.

"You, uh..." Arthur watched Byleth practically inhale a bowl of soup, before attacking her venison steak. Without missing a beat, the girl looked up to give him an inquiring glance, which he took as his cue to mind his own business. "...alright, then."

"Yep, she's always in a hurry. Got students to teach, straw dummies to behead." Sylvain said, putting his fork down to watch Byleth. "Goddess, I wish I was that steak."

"Well, I wish I had more steak." Ingrid said, sighing at her empty plate.

In contrast to Byleth, Mayu took to her meal very slowly, like she was deciding whether or not each individual morsel was poisoned. "What is this... thing... called?"

"Hmm? Oh, that's Duscur bear. Spiced and marinated in Gloucester sauce, from the looks of it. It's a delicacy in Gautier, and most of Faerghus." Sylvain casually rattled off. It was almost impressive, how quickly he reverted to acting like a shameless rake. "I know all about these things, you know. Maybe you and I can sample a few delicacies like these another time. I'm Sylvain, by the way."

Mayu stared at Sylvain for a moment, as though checking to see if he was a foe, or perhaps an Agarthan in disguise. "…Takano Mayu."

"Well, consider me very charmed, Ms. Takano. I love your accent. May I have the honour of..."

"Stop talking."

"Huh? But you haven't heard—"

"Stop. Talking."

Sylvain leaned back on his seat, startled at the undisguised contempt in Mayu's voice. "Well, now."

Ingrid palmed her mouth, in a vain attempt to hide her amusement. "What's the matter, Sylvain? I thought you're used to being rejected by now."

"Sure, but not like this." The boy shook his head, looking quite disturbed.

"You do have a peculiar way of speaking, miss." Flayn was looking up at Mayu with unabashed curiosity. "Instructor Eisner called you Mayu before… that is your name, is it not?"

"You are correct." Mayu said, directing her suspicious gaze towards Flayn this time. "What are you called?"

"Ah! How very rude of me. I have yet to introduce myself to either of you!" The girl sounded genuinely shocked at herself, in a way that Arthur found endearing. "My name is Flayn! Alas, I am no student… I am only here to live with my older brother, Seteth."

Arthur put his half-finished plate aside. He wanted something to drink, not eat. "Feels like I've heard that name before…"

"High Prelate Seteth. He is Lady Rhea's administrative and religious aide, as well as her right-hand man." Byleth had already gone through her plate, and her bowl of soup. "A practical man, with a taciturn demeanour. I only met him once, during our arrival to the monastery." A frown, with a disapproving huff. "He objected to the archbishop's decision to heal you."

Arthur nodded in understanding. "Buncha armed folks pushing into your home and demanding something from you? Reckon I probably wouldn't be too happy about us either, if I was him."

"Wait, does that mean… if you were that poor man they brought into the Vault of Renewal in Pegasus Moon last year, then…" Flayn covered her mouth as she stared at Arthur. "Oh no… Seteth told me to stay far away from you."

"Yeah? Well, you probably still shou—"

"Of course he'd say that." Byleth cut Arthur off, suddenly. "Whatever Seteth told you about Arthur, he's wrong. He would be one of the last people in this hall who would think to do you any harm. You can take my word for it."

Arthur sighed. He took his tankard of water and gulped it down, washing down the taste of his recent meal and wishing it was alcohol instead.

"Well, I mean…" Flayn looked from Arthur, then to Byleth, then back to him. "I suppose he does not seem so… um, bad. Not as much as my brother feared, at least."

"I will admit that Mr. Morgan has… more sides to him than I thought." Byleth began, with some uncertainty in her tone and expression. "And I thought I had been around him long enough to know everything there is to know about him."

The girl paused for a moment. She only glanced at Arthur for scarcely a second, but the look she gave felt like it was worth a thousand words spoken out loud. "But he means well, and I trust him with my life."

"Coming from you, instructor, that's some real high praise." Sylvain noted, without a hint of sarcasm in his tone. If anything, he sounded intrigued. "Morgan… isn't he some kind of big-name war hero from the Alliance? I think that girl from Goneril mentioned him once or twice. I don't really remember."

Ingrid was looking at Arthur strangely. "It can't be. They said he died of his wounds…"

At this point, Arthur has had enough. "We really should get going, Ms. Eisner. Mayu, you finished with your food?"

Mayu spent another moment looking at her half-eaten meal in derision, before contemptuously setting it aside. "Yes, Morgan-san."

Byleth gave the students and Flayn a nod before standing up and waving over a monk tasked with cleaning after the patrons. "Thank you for sharing your spot with us. Until next time, Flayn. Sylvain, Ingrid, I'll see you this evening in class."

Sylvain sighed and returned to leering at Byleth. "Oh, I look forward to it, lovely."

Flayn seemed to startle at the mention of her name. "Ah! You're leaving? That is… well, I hope to see you again soon, instructor! And you too, Mr. Arthur and Ms. Mayu!"

"I… yes." Ingrid took a moment to shake her mind from out of the clouds. Still, she could not help but give a pensive glance in Arthur's way a few times. "Later today then, Instructor Eisner."

Quickly making their way out of the dining hall, Arthur and Mayu followed Byleth out the exit and into another courtyard — one that was smaller, but just as picturesque as the last. It was there that Arthur found the reason why Lysithea had been waiting long for Victor to return to the library: the soldier-turned-student could be found on his own sitting by the side of a fountain, cooing at a fluffy white dog as he cradled it in his arms.

"Should we talk to him?" Byleth tentatively asked.

Mayu took one look at Victor's situation and quickly shook her head. "Why?"

Arthur chuckled. "Another time, kid."

Leaving the corporal behind, the three of them headed further northwest and walked past another few checkpoints manned by knights before coming across a peculiar-looking building, with a large group of students and a handful of academy staff positioned at the entrance.

"This is where I conduct most of my classes. Truthfully, this is also where I spend most of my time these recent days." Byleth pointed at the structure ahead, where sounds of combat and the familiar ringing of steel against steel echoed from. "Our training grounds is open for access not just to students and academy staff, but also the knights and even commoners from outside the monastery, provided they were given an invite."

"Hmm…" For once, Mayu didn't look intensely displeased at something. "What time does it close?"

"It does not."

"Most excellent."

Arthur spotted a familiar mop of bright purple hair among the gathering of students. He tracked it as its owner proceeded into the structure before disappearing from sight.

"Morgan! I've been looking all over for you!"

Eyes widening at the sound of Catherine's voice, Arthur made to turn around, only to find the lady knight already on his face, arms extended as though in the middle of giving him a hug, only to stop herself at the last moment. "Uhh, Catherine? Nice to see you, I guess. You're, uh, standin' a little close…"

The knight blinked. She had a look of utter shock on her face as she opened her mouth, closed it again, before pursing her lips and furrowing her brows. Instead of letting her arms fall, Catherine reached out with her gauntleted hands, holding Arthur by his face as she pulled him close and started to examine him. "What the hell's this, Morgan? All this time, and only now I see get to see it? By all the saints…"

"This is quite the eccentric display, lady knight, even for you." Byleth shook her head at the sight, before turning towards some of the students who drew over to them just to stare at the scene. "Tend to your own business, students. Nothing to see here."

Mayu looked confused. "But there is something to see here. The knight is invading Morgan-san's space."

"Not… urh, helping, kid." Arthur pried Catherine's hands from his face. "Woman, what the hell's wrong with you?"

"Oh no, I should be the one asking what the hell's wrong with you, Arthur!" Catherine backed off, massaging her hands. She looked horrified. "How come you have a crest, all the sudden? And a major crest, at that!"

At the mention of crests, several pairs of eyes now looked their way. Even some of the knights randomly patrolling the perimeter stopped what they were doing to stare.

"What? That's impossible." Byleth scoffed, though she looked just as startled as Catherine. "Crests are a phenomenon exclusive to Fódlan, and Arthur was born on a continent so removed from here, no one knows where it is."

"Is that right?" A student, an androgynous-looking boy with green eyes and medium-length green hair, boldly strode up to the scene. "Mister… Morgan, is it? Or Arthur, if you'd prefer. May I see your hand?"

"Look, Caspar, Lin's making his move!" Another student, a disarmingly-beautiful, brown-haired young woman with green eyes, tried to draw the attention of her nearby friend. "And my, he can't have picked a better man. It's almost a shame I didn't see him first..."

"Are you serious? Look at him, Dorothea, that man looks like he can fold you in half! You don't stand a chance, and neither does Linhardt!" The friend in question, a rather short boy with eyes and hair in a peculiar, lighter shade of blue, looked frightened for the other boy. "Linhardt! You're making a mistake! At least let me fight him first!"

Byleth groaned in frustration as more students arrived to gawk. "Students! This really isn't the time for this! Disperse and be on with your day!"

Catherine shook her head. "This can't be happening. A foreigner with a crest? Preposterous! Professor von Essar's heart is going to give out when he hears of this."

"Calm down, Catherine, you're probably just drunk." Arthur said, just as the green-haired student casually snatched his hand with a surprising amount of strength for someone so slight. "Kid… I don't remember givin' you permission to touch me."

"I'm not "Kid", I'm Linhardt." The student said, just as casually. "I'm sorry, but this is really important. I want to determine if you truly have a crest."

Arthur sighed. "Goddammit…" He tore his hand from Linhardt's grip before holding it out, palm up. May as well get it over with. "Make it quick."

"I'm serious!" Catherine all but shouted. "A major crest! And I didn't see it before? It's almost like… like… he acquired it somehow. But that's not possible! Surely not!"

"It ain't a big deal." Arthur began, before he looked down and realised his palm was projecting a strange symbol out of thin air, one that he recognised to be related to the heraldry and imagery of Saint Seiros. As a matter of fact, the robes the archbishop was wearing had this exact symbol sewn into them. "What in the— what'd you just do, kid?"

"Not much. I simply helped conjure your crest, mister." Linhardt said, stepping back with a satisfied smile as the symbol vanished from sight. "A major crest of Seiros… but how could this be? They said you are a foreigner, correct? Most vexing. Most intriguing. The implications are... oh my. I simply must have a closer look at you."

"Oh no, you don't!" Linhardt's friend, the pretty one, stalked over to them. Arthur was surprised at seeing that she had undone the first few buttons of her jacket, revealing a very generous amount of cleavage that rivalled Hilda Goneril's. "Please forgive my friend here, Mr. Morgan. He can be a little too forward for his own good. My name is Dorothea... perhaps you've heard of me?"

Arthur's frown deepened. "Young lady, I assure you I haven't."

"Dorothea, no! He's got a major crest! Now I'm sure you stand no chance against him!" The other student, the blue-haired boy, looked even more distressed, for some reason. To Arthur's bafflement, he then put up his fists. "Fight me instead, you coward! I'll go down, but I'll make you bleed!"

The outlaw just stared at him, unsure of what to make of his behaviour. "This place is fulla characters."

Mayu suddenly appeared in between Arthur and the belligerent boy. "You are looking for a fight? Fight me."

"Aww, and he's got allies, too?!" The student looked taken aback, but only for the briefest of moments. "Well, fine then! Come at me, lady!"

The moment he saw the familiar glint of steel from under Mayu's rounded sleeve, Arthur grabbed her by the shoulder and drew her back. He almost got a stab in the arm for his trouble, if not for how quickly he reached out and grabbed her thrusting hand. "Jesus, kid! It ain't even a day and you're already trying to kill someone?"

Mayu looked startled at how quickly she was disarmed. "That was... impressive. But you need not be so concerned." She slipped from his grasp in a single effortless movement. "I only intended to scare this fool."

Arthur looked towards the blue-haired fighter, finding him still putting up his fists and oblivious to what almost happened. "Somehow, I don't think this kid's smart enough for that."

"O-okay, what just happened?" Dorothea was staring at Mayu in abject fear. "Did you just... was that a dagger?"

"You must be Arnault Dorothea, from the Mittelfrank Opera Company." Mayu rattled off, much to the other girl's surprise. "My lord is an admirer of your work with the Divine Songstress."

"Hm... is that so?" Dorothea looked like she was ready to bolt, but her demeanour quickly changed at the mere mention of her apparent line of work outside the monastery. "You're very lucky, to have a lord who appreciates the arts. Did he sponsor you into becoming a student here in Garreg Mach?"

"Yes." While Dorothea was distracted, Mayu surreptitiously concealed her hands and her weapon inside her sleeves. "He is also a student."

"Oh... oh! How lucky indeed! And here I thought your lord must be old enough to be your grandfather. What's your name? What's his name?"

"Takano Mayu. My lord is Ferdinand von Aegir."

Dorothea's excitable attitude instantly disappeared at Mayu's mention of Ferdinand, her face growing sour by the moment. "What? Him? Right here, as a student?! Oh, goddess, why!"

Byleth sighed. "Catherine, you are testing my patience. Look what your outburst has caused — these students are blatantly harassing my friends."

Catherine looked around, sucking in a breath through her teeth as she watched the growing crowd of students drawing together around them. "Okay, I'm sorry I lost my shit, but... this is a very big deal, Ms. Eisner. Morgan just went from being a foreign-born commoner to a crest-bearer with neither land, title, or a lord to seek protection from. Until something is done about this, I can't in good conscience let him step out of the monastery!"

Arthur's eyes widened in outrage. Drawing up to his full height, he turned his baleful gaze towards Catherine. "And why would you do that, Catherine? Did Rhea tell you to keep us here?"

"What? I hadn't even seen the archbishop this week! I'm doing this for your own safety, you damned fool!" The knight exclaimed. "I'll try to keep word of your crest from leaving Garreg Mach, but the nobles have many ways to suss out crest-bearers! And once they figure out you have Seiros' crest, I'm afraid for what they'll do to you!"

Byleth's expression grew more severe by the moment. "Arthur... Catherine's right. If the nobles found out, the more opportunistic ones will try to capture you... turn you into breeding stock for the chance of their children inheriting your crest. At least here, the knights will keep you safe."

"Worse, they're going to fight each other for you, once word of your deeds further east spreads to the rest of this wretched continent!" Catherine did not relent. "What noble worth their title wouldn't want to have their heirs inheriting a crest from Deadeye Morgan himself?"

Arthur was silent for a moment as he quietly raged at whatever forces put him in this absurd situation. The last thing he wanted was to spend another moment in this monastery, and now, it may be the one place in all of Fódlan where he wouldn't be forced to fight for his life.

In the end, he could only just sigh. Things may have just changed for the worse, but he took comfort in that his goals remained the same. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Sorry for gettin' mad at you, Catherine. You didn't deserve that."

"I'm alright, but I'm just worried for you, big man." The knight ran her hand through her hair. It looked much shorter and less unruly, from the last time Arthur had seen her. "Tell you what — why don't we go up to the training grounds so you and I can have a go at each other? I know you're still angry at me, so..."

"No, no, I ain't mad. Wouldn't do anyone any good." Arthur wearily shook his head. "But yeah, a round in the yard sounds good. If I'm stuck with this goddamn crest, may as well take it for a spin and see what it can do."

Moments later, Byleth's group plus Catherine moved past the gathered throng of excitedly chattering students and entered the training grounds. More than a few students followed in their wake, including Linhardt, Dorothea, and the blue-haired kid Arthur learned was named Caspar.

"Whoa, you mean one of the fencing instructors is the Ashen Demon? And her friend is that one-eyed man with the crest?" Arthur could hear Caspar's voice from behind them, even as they tried to keep their distance.

"Well, yes, haven't you been paying attention since they announced who our educators would be this year?" Linhardt chided his friend. "I heard Instructor Eisner was given her moniker not just for her complexion, but also her penchant for slaughtering those in her way without a hint of emotion on her face. A terrifying woman, to be sure."

"And the man I tried to pick a fight with? Uhh, Morgan, wasn't it?"

"He's almost as well-known in the mercenary trade, though recent events in Goneril to the east may just make him just as renowned... to say nothing of what we witnessed just then."

"I was recently involved in a tour to Goneril, you know. The company was hired by Duke Tancred Goneril to uplift the spirits of his soldiers before he sends them off to die in his little war." Dorothea whispered. "And I... I think I might have seen him there while I was performing on stage. Arthur Morgan, I mean. He was hard to miss, dressed in those trendy new clothes from the Alliance."

"That's quite the coincidence, Ms. Arnault." Linhardt intoned, in a dry and doubtful tone. "Next you'll tell us, you took him for a tumble in some dingy alehouse."

"Oh, that would've been a very enjoyable use of one of my evenings, but I'm being serious here, Lin! I was there, and I missed the chance to get acquainted with the war hero who just so happens to be a major crest-holder! I saw him first, and now that he's here, can you please, please, please not get in my way?"

"What do you mean? I just want to study how he acquired his crest despite being foreign-born. Go about your business with him and pay me no mind."

Arthur scowled. "Right. Is there any way I could get rid of this crest, Catherine?"

"Unless you can figure out a way to survive without your blood, I don't think so." The knight said. "You're stuck with it, old man. For better and for worse."

"This sounds like a nightmare." Mayu spoke up, in a strangely melancholic tone. "To be seen as nothing more than a tool, to be used for the sole purpose of making children and solidifying ties? I escaped this fate once. I would take my own life before I let it happen again."

"Believe me, I understand." Catherine nodded at the foreign warrior. "I hold a crest myself, and I would have ended up like that, if a weird turn of events didn't end with me finding myself in Lady Rhea's service."

"Forget about it, then." Arthur huffed, unburdening himself at the fact that there was truly nothing he could do about his new crest. "Not like I'm in a hurry to go anywhere now, with Byleth stuck here with this goddamn teachin' job of hers."

"See? Why not see the bright side of suddenly finding yourself blessed by the goddess and being unable to step foot past Pilgrim's Landing without getting jumped by the inbred lot outside?" Catherine put up a smile, glimpses of her usual sunny attitude appearing. "You know, there is one easy solution to this problem of yours, Arthur."

"Not likin' that tone you're using, lady knight."

"Aww, come on! This is a good one. All you need to do is to take a knee right now, and I'll bring out Thunderbrand while we recite the oaths of fealty to the archbishop together. I'm sure you'll make all the ladies swoon in the old silver, white, and gold."

"Nice try, but no."

"Well, can't fault a girl for trying."

Soon, their presence in the training grounds attracted more attention from its current occupants, including a certain ex-mercenary now clothed in the garb of a student.

"Whoa, Arthur. You look... pretty messed up." Shez looked up at Arthur like he was some kind of natural hazard about to fall atop him. "I, um... ah, what the hell. It's good to see you alive and kicking, old man."

"Heh. Alright, I'll admit I was hopin' to see you too, boy."

"The last time we spoke, I... kinda, sorta left you behind while I ran with the other mercs. That was a mistake, and I'm sorry."

"Naw, I was happy you didn't follow after me. Otherwise, I don't think we'd be speaking right now."

Shez paled, but he nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right. So, what brings you here?" He tilted his head to look behind Arthur. "And is that... Mayu? Why is she wearing a student uniform? If she's here, then where's Ferdinand?"

"Lotta questions you got there, kid. The short of it is I'm here to beat the crap out of that cocky bitch, over there." He gestured at the knight in her corner of the yard, who had started removing her armour and her gauntlets. "And go talk to Mayu. Girl's a lot easier to understand."

Catherine cracked her knuckles. "Let's get this show on the road, big man! I've been looking forward to this."

Arthur turned around, doing the same with his neck before widening his stance and putting up his fists. "Careful what you wish for."

Byleth's shoulders slumped in resignation as she joined the growing audience for the two major crest-bearers. "Don't get too rough now, you two. This is just a friendly spar."

"O-ho no, let's make this interesting! I win this, and you let me knight you!" The lady knight was smirking, but the outlaw knew she meant every word. "What do you say? Not afraid of climbing the social ladder, are you?"

"It ain't that I'm afraid of. I'm afraid of Lady Rhea!" He sarcastically confessed.

She smiled at that. "As you should! You ready for this?"

"Sure. You're awfully confident for a girl who's about to get her shit kicked in."

"Ha! I'm giving this everything I've got! You'll remember this day as the day you start worshipping the goddess!"

---

A/N: Tonight on Outlaw Knight: Byleth skips the interview for a job, Ferdinand becomes an orphan, Shez gets an education, and Arthur is now part lizard.

This chapter serves to bridge the gap between the prologue arc and White Clouds, and is probably the most chaotic and disjointed one I've ever written so far. Byleth taking Arthur around her new workplace should've taken way less time and a much fewer word count, but I just had too much fun just imagining how characters would react to his sudden presence in their monastery. The next one will be about the first mission in-game with the three lords, so it'll be a bit heavier on the combat side, with Byleth's crest manifesting, Sothis appearing, and a certain one-off character getting bumped off so she can take his job. By their return to the monastery, the academy should have enough time to organise the students into the titular three houses, where Byleth has to make a choice on which house should she personally oversee.

Time to pad the word count with the reviews:

Louie Yang: Indeed, but not as a professor just yet.

Blast Ketchup: High praise! Many thanks!

Al the Obsessive: Thanks, I really do try my best. I only hope the OCs I will eventually introduce hold up to the same quality I wrote for the canon characters.

njgronlund: While I enjoyed writing this chapter, it's probably my least-liked one, purely because this is the only one with Ferdinand in it where he doesn't tell some poor fellow exactly who he is. Maybe he's already dead, and the Ferdinand I wrote here is actually an Agarthan?

Spartastic 4: Yeah, I didn't think Byleth would waste her time agonising over Jeralt when she still had hope of saving Arthur. Ever practical, I imagined she reasoned to herself that she'd find time to mourn, when there's nothing else she could do for Arthur. It also sucks Jeralt can't be buried in Garreg Mach because his body would rot in days (or so everyone thought), and they had to resort to leaving him buried somewhere in Goneril, along with most of the company. Overall, a terrible situation to deal with for everyone involved.

Rook435: Hello again!

The company not only gets decimated, but they get scattered, and a few left alive were too traumatised by what happened to claim their pay. Fortunately, the main characters do get paid, courtesy of Hilda being there in Garreg Mach. And yes, things are bleak now, but really, this if the game is any indication, the worst thing that can happen to them has yet to come. Their time in the monastery is actually the calm before the storm, even if it doesn't seem that way.

A funeral for Jeralt is actually in my mental notes, with the characters heading back to Goneril to retrieve his body and bury it next to Sitri just like in-game. It won't be for much later, though, and I imagine it'll be its own, smaller chapter. Maybe around 10k words, or something.

I imagined Byleth is, ironically, reluctant to tell Arthur she had seen his journal, just as Arthur was once reluctant to tell her about his past. Like him, she's afraid of losing the bond they have. And yes, she definitely saw his drawings, which probably consists of two-fifths of the journal's length. It'll be a plot point later, especially when artistically-inclined characters like Ignatz get the opportunity to show off their own art.

That's it for now, eh?

Dasgun: uu

pelapor022: After getting praise like this, you'd be sure I'm going to do more of it! Many thanks, friend!

Mandalore the Illiterate: Himbos are fun to write, and even more fun to write them slowly getting worn down and corrupted by tragedy. Also, as Ferdinand is still just in his late teens (he turns eighteen at the end of the month from the current date in this story), I'm also given the privilege of showing how he also changes as a result of the things that normally come with becoming a full adult.

Nobushi is super fun! Until you realise the other guy has a new monitor/is on a bunch of stimulants and can reliably react to your 500ms light attacks. Then, you cry and switch to another character with a proper opener, like a coward. Shameful display.

Rhea should be suspended from FIFA, or any other competitive sport. If she does not absolutely dunk on everyone with zero resistance, she might just lose her temper and eat the entire stadium.

Nope, don't see Arthur putting on an eyepatch any time soon. He doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who'd hide his deformities, because he doesn't care enough about how he looks to other people, especially strangers. Maybe if certain individuals who he actually cares for asked him to hide the dead eye.

Ohwono: She gets a job, but that's only on the surface. Play the game, and you'll find out why they wanted her to stay in the monastery.

EternalKirby: Rhea is always sad, despite the motherly front she puts up. Sad, overworked, and lonely. Which is a bad combination with the amount of power she wields, needless to say.

Byleth better watch out. Arthur's track record as a dad is... well, spotty.