Silver Snow Revised

by Cosmic Sky

When Byleth Eisner came to Garreg Mach, he brought an unexpected hope with him. It was a hope Rhea knew she had to nurture, never suspecting that things wouldn't quite work out as she expected. Byleth would show her that wasn't a bad thing. Likewise, she'd become something unexpected but precious to him. This is the story of the silver studded path they walked together.

8. Chapter 7-A Closed Fist

Hey, everyone. Welcome to the latest chapter of this story, posted in the last hour of 2022. Hard to believe that in just a couple of months I've managed to turn out almost ten chapters. I couldn't have done it without the support you've all shown so far. I'm hoping that'll continue this chapter and those going forward. Now then, without further ado, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

I do not own anything.

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Chapter 7-A Closed Fist

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"Well?"

"Surely you agree with me, right, Byleth?"

To fire or ice. A tiger in front of you and a lion behind you. Decapitation and hanging. Neela's cocking or Fizza's singing. Those were a few of the metaphors that came to Byleth's mind that he felt perfectly described his current predicament. Could he take a third one? He really, really would have liked to. Would doing so quell the rage simmering within his two colleagues?

Byleth was willing to bet his accumulated fortunes on the answer being no. Despite that, he found himself gravitating toward that choice, so he supposed that was a bet that he was going to take a loss on.

At his sigh, both Manuela and Hanneman braced themselves, which involved shooting one another side glares that reminded him of colliding blades. He could see the sparks during their seconds' long lifespan. "Hanneman, Manuela, while I respect both of your viewpoints, and they both have their share of validity, I'm afraid I must disagree with both of you." As he expected, their faces fell, yet there was no immediate outburst of anger directed at him, or each other. The two veteran teachers certainly did glare at each other though, then they moved their attention back to him. Still no anger, only curiosity.

A sense of calm recognition fell over Hanneman's face as he took on a rather dignified pose, adjusting his monocle as such. "I suspected you'd have a differing opinion on this matter, differing from both of us. While we may both be veteran instructors here at the Officers Academy,"

"Neither of us are professional fighters like you, and that especially holds true when it comes to history." Manuela finished, and further explained. She too had a look of calm acceptance on her face; like Hanneman, she'd been expecting his response, or at least considering it a possibility. Unlike Hanneman, she gave him a rather visible smile that further put Byleth at ease. "Normally, we'd have one of the knights settling this debate, but now we'll have you, Byleth. If our theory is accurate, then you have the worldly knowledge that even some knights in the order lack."

He knew for a fact that some of the knights would take offense to hearing that. In that sense, they were fairly like other knight orders he'd encountered in the past; that wasn't to say that the attitude was fundamentally a bad thing. At least not always. Time would tell if the Knights of Seiros would be accepting of his worldly experience. Frankly, Byleth somewhat hoped they would.

His focus finally turned toward the maroon-colored that lay open on the table in front of him. Its contents had been the source of debate for his colleagues nearly all morning. From what he'd gleaned, this hadn't been a first for the pair, albeit it was a first time that they had a third member, a witness to their arguments-and potential tiebreaker. In this case, it was him.

It was a given that growing up amidst mercenaries Byleth would end up reading a lot of military texts. He did, reading far more literature of that sort than fairy tales like normal children. Such an upbringing gave him an eye for military tactics, an eye that was more than likely better than the pair of older individuals in front of him. He looked over the pages each of them had marked, orange white feathers for Hanneman and blue for Manuela. Their differences were shown in the pages, the tactics, that they'd highlighted.

"Hanneman, you're right in that General Eibert von Kleist did indeed make progress in his campaigns using well-thought out, practical strategies. They brought him much success against the forces of Dagda. His pincer strategies were quite effective, but after a while they did become predictable. That is how they were eventually countered. Manuela's right in that his arrogance in his belief in Adrestian battle tactics caused his downfall. Especially since he not only neglected to get to know his enemy, or change up his battle tactics."

The graying-haired man bit his lip, but seemingly nodded in confirmation. Contrast to him, Manuela crossed her arms and turned up her nose, a look of proud confirmation on her face. Byleth almost felt bad about being the one to make the proud bubble she was in burst, but he felt he had to do it.

Reversing the book's position so they could read it, he pointed to a mountain passageway presented on the page's map. "The Battle of Carron Gorge could have been won if he'd listened to his vice generals, who very much had a point in telling him he'd became repetitive, and yes, he severely underestimated the Dagda army."

"Thank you, Byleth." The brunette cheerily cooed.

"But trying to dig through the gorge walls would have been an absolutely horrible idea, even if he had the mages on hand to do so." He swiftly added. Manuela's face immediately fell while a gleamer of amusement flickered in Hanneman's eyes. "The rock of the Carron Gorge was-is-far too thick for any Adrestian mage to tunnel through. It'd have taken too long and alerted the Dagdans, who'd have responded accordingly. The attempted sneak attack would have turned into an absolute slaughter. Well, a bigger one than the battle already was." His finger had drifted to the backside of the mountainside fortress that had been the Adrestian Army's aim. While he'd never been to Fort Itai, he'd traveled the mountain range that it belonged to. The rock was so thick he doubted earth magic of nothing but the highest caliber could bend it, and that bending certainly wouldn't have been quiet.

"This strong rock that littered the land," Hanneman began in contemplation.

"You could say it's similar to silentium, negating the effects of magic." A pause came over Byleth as he found his hands instinctively flexing. It didn't go unnoticed by Manuela. The former songstress inhaled to speak, but Byleth found himself cutting her off. "I have a few shields made of the material. And knives, they're quite effective magic weapons, but I can say that they have their limits."

"Limits that could have been reached by the Adrestian army." She pressed.

"Yes, but that would have taken time and effort, more so than I believe Eibert Kleist was willing to put in. Not to mention some of his pride may have gotten in the way." Hanneman bristled, but he saw the slow growing recognition on his face. It was never easy hearing the flaws of one's idol, but post battle examinations tended to do that. "The commander of Fort Itai was Antwon Acker, one of the finest generals Dagda ever produced." Byleth looked between the two of them, his eyes hardening as he next spoke. "He was one of Dagda's best, and an equal match to Adrestia's own commanders."

"We believe you, Byleth." Hanneman calmly stated. Manuela nodded in agreement, her sympathetic smile coupled with Hanneman's own causing him to look down in slight embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, you two." He said. "I didn't mean to accuse either of you of anything."

"No need to apologize. It's popular amongst Adrestian circles to downplay the capabilities of Acker. When he perished in battle, his death was rather widely celebrated, especially by the nobility, who'd lost quite a few of their own to him." Hanneman explained. "I will admit, it was foolish on the part of Dagda to remove him from the fortress and send him to fight in Brigid."

"I heard that it was due to political discontent in the government. Apparently, poor old Acker had made enemies in the wrong places." Manuela chimed in.

"He had, and that animosity led to incredibly stupid decisions that cost Dagda one of its greatest military minds. I hate stories like that." The former mercenary stated. His sigh came from the flow of memories, several of which were quite unpleasant.

A similar sound was made by his female counterpart, a surprise that caught his eye. "I'm afraid you'll see a lot of that in Adrestia. If you read up on the Adelmo Dynasty, you'll find a lot of that. Honestly, I personal found it amazing how Adrestia didn't collapse into chaos right then and there."

"It certainly came close, but our empire showed its resilience."

Byleth looked between the two normally bickering professors. Now that the conversation had turned domestic, it seemed that they were finding more common ground. Since it saved him some eye-witnessing to their bickering, he was all for it. Not to mention he saw an opportunity to grow his own wisdom. "The Adelmo Dynasty, that was General Adelmo von Hresvelg, right?"

"Yes, twenty-second emperor of the Adrestian Empire-"

"Adelmo of the Near End." Manuela jumped in. Though Hanneman looked a touch annoyed, he seemed content to let her explain this one. "Practically everyone could see that executing the then-count Bergliez's son could only end in disaster, and it certainly did. A civil war between the imperial family and House Bergeliez, such a thing would have destroyed Adrestia."

"Such conflicts have destroyed smaller and lesser countries."

"I take it you've participated in such conflicts, Byleth?" Hanneman inquired.

"…A few, some of which I'm not particularly proud of having been a part of." His sigh of relief incited a laugh out of Manuela, one that caused Hanneman to raise an eyebrow.

Seeing the confusion on her colleague's face, the still gorgeous songstress turned to him. "My dear, stuffy Hanneman, we can rest assured that no such conflicts will be occurring. I highly doubt there'll ever be a reason for Edelgard or House Bergliez to go to war. Certainly, Caspar wouldn't be a part of it."

"Eh, not unless he thought he could fight Edelgard at full strength." Byleth chirped. The older pair before him chuckled, clearly knowing the blue-haired student well. Practically everyone in the academy did given his bombastic nature. "Speaking of Adrestia's future leaders, I better get back to them, and I believe you two have to do the same to Faerghus and Leicester's future rulers as well."

"That is true, but after this discussion, I believe that you may have something to teach them as well, Byleth." Hanneman refuted, and declared. The blue-haired swordsman recognized his tone and his posture, and he recognized it in Manuela as well. He coughed into his fist, "As you know, Manuela and I have taught for several years here, but our combat experience has been sorely lacking. While they've been happy to great us, we have had students return to us after graduation to correct us on some areas where we incorrect. Said areas predominately pertained to live combat. To somewhat rectify-"

"We want you to give a lecture to all three houses! This afternoon is you're able to."

Byleth blinked at them. His eyes drifting from Manuela to Hanneman, who shot the former a slightly cross look at being interrupted. Regardless, he seemingly nodded in agreement. Both veteran instructors looked to him, waiting for his confirmation. He was hesitant to give it as he was still trying to get a grasp of what was going on.

"Though we have our differences, our teaching curriculum do share similarities. There are certain subjects: events, names, and certainly battles, that we're obligated to teach. As I was saying-"

"We want you to help us with some of the battles, and to do that, we'd like to have you teach all three houses, a joint class session." Manuela again clarified, and again, her fellow Adrestian looked at her with temporary annoyance before nodding in agreement.

Byleth remained in his seat, staring at the two of them. "You two…want me to teach both of your classes? Just one time?"

"Most likely not. Joint lessons are nothing new, especially when there's someone who knows more about the subject matter, in this case, you, Byleth." Hanneman said. Looking between the two, Byleth easily imagined them teaching joint classes on Crestology and medicine respectively. That made it somewhat easier to imagine himself doing the same for battle tactics. "I'm sure that there'd be more than a few students, especially in the Blue Lions, who'd appreciate your knowledge being shared."

Though minor, Byleth detected the hint of sorrow in his voice. From what he'd seen, Hanneman was far from a bad teacher, but he was also a certain type of teacher. He was a scholar, a magical scholar at that. The Blue Lions, in contrast, were knights in training. By all accounts, Byleth recognized he was the kind of teacher that they'd rather have had, even if he was a mercenary.

Next year. He thought to himself. The more he thought about it, the more surreal it felt. Originally, he didn't know how long his tenure as a teacher would last, but Byleth found it to be…enjoyable so far. Or maybe he was just adapting like he always did. Still, this was certainly didn't. The phrase "next year" was being spoken of with growing certainty. At the very least when he stepped back and looked at things logically, it made sense. His father was captain general of the Knights of Seiros, a position he'd quite easily assimilated back into, so it wasn't like he was going anywhere; that meant that the Jeralt Mercenaries weren't going anywhere either.

"When can we do this?" He asked.

"Hmm, we'd have liked to do it today, but it might be a tad too sudden." Manuela first spoke.

"Then tomorrow." Byleth guessed. "Give them prior warning as I'll do with the Black Eagles."

"Excellent! You're already becoming quite the teacher! I've had a few students come to me to praise you! I'm sure you'll receive plenty more after you speak to all three classes!" The brunette proclaimed. Byleth couldn't help but wonder why she seemed so excited. He didn't think it was because she was looking forward to a day without work. Instead, it seemed that she genuinely wanted to see how he'd do with a large audience. Rather fitting as she was a former performer used to working with a large audience.

"Yes, now that we've settled that matter. Come, the three of us have classes we must teach today." The older Adrestian declared with a clap of his hands.

Manuela rolled her eyes, but she stood up and gathered her things like Byleth did. She surely knew that they had students to get back to, and in her case, needed to get back to. From what he'd heard, the Golden Deer could be slightly rowdy. Byleth could sympathize as sometimes the Black Eagles could be the same. He was sure that like her, the rowdiness could be traced back to a few specific students.

"Edelgard. Ferdinand. Caspar." Byleth called out in a rather dry but vaguely amused voice.

Cra-ack! Thump!

"Gah! E-E-E-Edelgard! That was cheating!" Cried the orange-haired nobleman. He seemed more concerned about the fact he'd lost than the slightly above average force his house leader had used to win the arm-wrestling contest. Then again, he'd been using his Crest like her, so if things had been different, he'd likely have caused her similar injury.

To which, Hubert might have spent the rest of class giving him a sideways glare.

"Professor Eisner! Good morning! We were just-"

"Uh, any chance you'll let us do this again after class?" Caspar interrupted. Half the class looked to him, seemingly in shock that he'd had the gull to ask that. Linhardt simply shook his head and sat upright, indicating he was ready for class to begin.

"Possibly." Byleth answered. Aside from the little match he'd just interrupted, nothing else in his class seemed to be out of order. "Ferdinand, is your hand alright?" At his nod, he turned to his opponent. Amazingly, Edelgard mostly looked composed. Mostly, mind you. "Edelgard, well done on seizing on your window of opportunity, no matter how small it was." The imperial princess' composure broke, she looked like any other girl who'd just been praised by a parent. It was a cute sight. "Now then, class is about to begin, so enough of that until your lunch break."

"Uh, Professor, any chance you'll be willing to join us?" For the second time in less than five minutes, Caspar attracted the attention of the whole room.

Behind his stoic frown, Byleth felt amused. "Maybe…provided none of you will be sore about losing to me."

"Awesome! Challenge accepted!" Shouted the blue-haired boy.

"I will be taking that challenge as well! Professor, I too would like the change to test my might against you!" Ferdinand seconded.

"Well, if those two are going to participate, then I must do so as well. I am the strongest and the leader of the Black Eagles." Of course, Edelgard had to be the one to end things, and make it clear where she stood in the pecking order. A look at Ferdinand and Caspar told Byleth that they planned on challenging that established order. Them and Petra, who was eyeing Edelgard quite intensely as well.

"Alright, that's enough, everyone. Class is now in session." In the back of his mind, he wondered if he'd be able to quiet down all three houses just as easily as he could his own. He'd find out tomorrow, when he stood before the Black Eagles, Blue Lions, and the Golden Deer.

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Could you not look like you're going to enjoy watching a spectacle?

Is that what you believe this will be? A spectacle?

I have the feeling that's what YOU think it'll be, Sothis.

Bah! Do not take me for your father. I have come to find these little ones quite entertaining. Some can be rather vexing, but entertaining none the less.

So, you're warming up to them too, huh?

As are you, and here you are out to teach the younglings how to hunt. Your own and those of your colleagues.

Yes, I am. The question is will they be willing to listen.

At that statement, Sothis went quiet, her face one of contemplation. She was the only one who knew his lesson plan for the day. He'd discussed it with her; there'd been a lot he'd found himself discussing with her and her alone. It was inevitable given her residency in his head, a residency that he'd grown used to. There were some perks to it, perks that outweighed the downsides. He had to admit it felt nice having someone to bounce his ideas off of, especially his teaching ideas, which he was making up as he went along. To his surprise, Sothis was a rather good exchange partner.

She'd told him to go for it, and that's what he was going to do. How things turned out, well…Sothis said it was even out of her hands. Quite an admission for a goddess.

There were three large lecture halls within the academy, all large enough to fit almost two-hundred students. As he walked in, he found that all the seats were filled, a mixture of all three classes, albeit Byleth noticed how some students were grouping together based on nationalities. Instinct, he supposed. It also seemed to be instinct that they'd all grouped around their respective house leaders. The second he walked in, he spotted Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude sitting in the center seats; their fellow housemates were seated around them. That especially went for their retainers.

Just as Hubert was connected to Edelgard at the hip, he found that Dedue was the same with Prince Dimitri. Now, Claude and Hilda Valentine Gonreil? A tad less so. He spotted her fervently chatting with a blue-haired girl beside her instead of him. Matter of fact, Claude seemed to be surveying the assembled students with an analytical eye. As was Edelgard, which left Dimitri as the only one looking a touch more…relaxed. Byleth was remined of the three future leaders when he first met them back in Remire. That now seemed like a lifetime ago instead of the actual weeks ago.

Once he came onto the podium, the chatter intensified. For some students, it was their first time seeing him in person. As per usual, there was the initial shock and denial that he was the feared Ashen Demon. Then there were the remarks that he was much better looking than they initial thought he'd be. After that, the skepticism that he really knew the subject matter that he was about to teach.

Byleth inhaled, a move that quelled some parts of the classroom. "Good morning, everyone. I am Byleth Eisner, head teacher of the Black Eagles House, but for the duration of today, I will be your collective teacher." He paused, letting his declaration sink in. Silence fell over the lecture hall, much to his relief. "As I'm sure you all know, the topic of the day will be battle, and that'll include me going over a few historic battles. Including those that have taken place outside of Fόdlan's borders."

"But why? Why do we have to learn about battles waged beyond Fόdlan?" One student impulsively shouted.

Byleth had been expecting such questions. He knew they were coming the moment he finalized his lesson plan. "Because there's something to be learned from such battles." Came his simple, stoic response. "There's always something to learn from lands that can be considered foreign, battles that can be considered foreign." Looks of apprehension appeared in the audience, but they were outweighed by seeming curiosity. That was something that Byleth was grateful for; it seemed not all in this batch of students were close minded. The relief grew as he looked to the corners of the room and saw a handful of knights nodding in agreement. Byleth recognized some of them from his father's expedition matches, including the head of the Indech Sword Fighters, Ophir.

Since everyone there had a grasp of the basics, Byleth didn't waste time going over them. He jumped into the more advanced ins and outs of various weapons, namely how their unique traits could "break" any sort of supposed advantage one weapon could have on another. For example, a small and swift axe, or two, could beat a warrior wielding a sword, or how a swordsman with enough skill and force could defeat a lance wielder. That, Byleth certainly knew a lot about. As he taught the students that, he looked across the seats and could have sworn he saw his younger self seating across from him, eagerly soaking up all the knowledge. A blink later and he saw the young warriors of the present; they were absorbing his knowledge with all eagerness that his younger self would have. He noted how a few of them seemed to be taking notes and looking in the direction of certain people.

Deep in the depths of his heart, he took solace in seeing that once again, he wasn't as much of an anomaly as he'd believed growing up.

Once weapons were covered, he moved onto tactics. Byleth took silent note of which students seemed more motivated and which ones…seemingly checked out. In particularly, he noted how Caspar seemed to be struggling on what to do. At the very least he was far from alone in that regard, but given his presence in his class, Byleth took an interest in him. He didn't quite glare at the boy, but he did give him a silent stare. Caspar caught it and looked back, his eyes widening for a second, then he eagerly nodded. Thankfully, he knew he wasn't in any trouble, but he recognized he was being told to listen.

Aside from them, Byleth also took silent note of those students who seemed very interested in learning tactics and strategy.

First and foremost, there was Edelgard, along with the other house leaders. There was a certain light in Claude's eyes, showing he had a vested interest in them. Dimitri was no less eager, but he wasn't afraid to ask questions, which he applauded. Byleth was more than happy to answer his questions, and the questions of other students. Whenever he would turn away from the massive chalkboard, he'd take note of those students who seemed to be rather furiously taking notes. A handful of those students were also the ones who asked him questions.

Even when he finally did as he said would, and moved his focus beyond Fόdlan.

First up was a land that he knew well, a land that the students of the Golden Deer had no doubt been taught to fear and even loath. Not without good reason though.

"The Almyran Shot, I'm sure most of you have heard of it, haven't you." As expected, the most nods came from the Alliance section. The second largest came from the natives of the Kingdom, who'd no doubt had some inkling of Almyran battle tactics thanks to their own warrior culture. That finally left a handful of Adrestians to raise their hands. He was pleased to see that Edelgard was among them. "Good, but for those of you unaware, here's a quick definition. It is one of the signature moves of the Almyran army, namely their cavalry, both ground and air-based. They feign a retreat, baiting the enemy into going after them, only to turn back and attack the now onrushing enemy with a volley of arrows. While on the surface seemingly simple, it is quite effective and flexible. That said, it can also require a certain degree of discipline and planning to work effectively."

"But how? How does such a simple tactic require anything resembling such…effort?" One student called. His purple hair stood out to him, as did the rose on his chest. He believed he was the son of Count Gloucester of the Alliance.

"To effectively pull off the Almyran Shot, one must known their enemies, and their own capabilities at that. Namely, for it to work, the user must look like they're really collapsing into a disorganized retreat. That requires great acting on the part of the troops. Deception is a powerful tool on the battlefield, one that must be wielded wisely, yet it is not all powerful." Perhaps it was subconscious desire that made him look toward Claude. There wasn't a smile on his face, only a somewhat neutral frown. It was a good plow to keep suspicion off himself, but if one looked closer they could have seen it was a mask of indifference. "More often than not, chase will be given to a disorganized force as to prevent them from regrouping. That age old yearning is where one half of the effectiveness of the Almyran Shot comes into play." Swiftly grabbing his chalk piece, he illustrated a set up for the military tactic. It was one drawn from his memory. He heard a murmur of awe and even discontent, primarily from the Alliance section. "Once the enemy has followed you into the ideal position, that is when the other half of the equation comes into play-how well you hit at the opportune moment. For that, Almyra brings in its heavy cavalry along with its finest archers. It is critical that they've been informed of what their target is and how to strike at them."

"Professor Eisner," called a student from the Blue Lions. "It…sounds like you're speaking from personal experience."

"I am. As many of you know, I am a former mercenary, and my work had me employed in Almyra. I can explain the Almyran Shot so thoroughly because I have participated in several myself, and fought against them." Byleth was pretty sure that part of his statement shouldn't have been a surprise, yet it seemingly was for several students. Based on the awed stares of some students, it was a pleasant one. "Given Almyran's differing beliefs, it's understandable how telling a feint retreat from a real one can be difficult." That single comment got the class talking amongst themselves. Namely the Blue Lions. While they may have respected Almyra's battle prowess, there was a rather distinct difference in how both nations saw life and death, especially during battle. Turning back to the chalkboard, he began to write. As he did, the chatter of the classroom quieted down.

By the time he was finished, he was done to less than half his original length of chalk. He had three more sticks of equal length. At the rate he was going, he was going to be getting some good use out of all them, maybe even end up depleting them.

A hand rose leading him to call out to it. It was the same girl from the Blue Lions, the blonde with green eyes.

"Professor Eisner, those are the ways to spot a fake retreat, correct?" She called.

"Yes." He affirmed with a slight upward tick of his lips. "These three things are how you can potentially discern a fake retreat from a real one." His chalk point gently tapped against the first bullet point. "The first one is signs of disorder. Now, this one is perhaps amongst the hardest to tell, but it illustrates the difficulty of a feint retreat. Undisciplined troops can turn a fake retreat into a real one. If one spots a commander half-heartedly to get the troops back into order, then there's a possibility the retreat is being faked." He moved his chalk stick to the second point. "Know one's terrain. If you recognize the enemy's path of retreat, you can evaluate if you're being led into a trap. This tactic proved key in the Almyran Invasion. Once the forces of the Alliance and Empire began to realize what types of terrain they were being lured into, they were able to ascertain rather or not retreats were genuine. Third point, recognizing the strength of the enemy army. This too is another trait that's hard to ascertain, but it is highly critical. Most importantly, it involves recognizing the strength of the enemy army, and said strength may be different from your own."

Many of the Blue Lions shifted uncomfortably, and for good reason. Byleth was looking the lot of them up and down. Though not quite in an accusatory manner, he was very much trying to get his point across. He'd seen many battles lost because one side underestimated the other; frustration always ran high within him when he was on the side doing the underestimating.

"On that point, I'd like to add this-your enemy's cultural norms may be different from yours, but make no mistake in warfare, they're just like you. They want to win, and that is the ultimate objective of any battle or war." Byleth didn't like having to explain this, he felt like it should have been common knowledge to anyone who practiced warfare. As he'd learned though, being high on one's culture and morality was something that many cultures had in common. "Now then, to elaborate on the third point, if you feel something is wrong, then there's a possibility it is wrong. The Almyran Shot's deception is rooted in using its light cavalry and infantry to bait the enemy in. This makes sense as these forces when used right can execute quick, effective retreats. Or, they're the most likely to break into disorganized retreats that may seem like easy pickings. Seemingly." He didn't mean to, but his last statement got a chuckle out of the audience.

"Professor Eisner, while that is true, aren't there times when the bait is…something else? Perhaps even heavy cavalry?"

"You're right, Prince Dimitri." Settling his focus on him, he raised an eyebrow in intrigue. "If I may, you've heard the name, Ardufya II?"

He nodded, a small smile growing across his face. "I heard that he was an unconventional commander, even by Almyran standards, but effective."

"Indeed, he was, Prince Dimitri." With a slight pep in his step, he grabbed the eraser and light cavalry figures. They were replaced with three heavy cavalrymen. "Ardufya II was a general during the Almyran War. Nephew of then-king at the time, he was known for being quite…eccentric in some ways, but he was one of the most effective commanders in the war. This was shown in how observant he was, realizing that his people's tactics were becoming familiar to the forces of Fόdlan. To get around that he…switched some things up, like the Almyran Shot. Prince Dimitri said, instead of using light cavalry as bait, he used heavy cavalry. He disguised the divisionary force as the main force, not an easy feat, but it was an effective one." To his left, he saw the Black Eagles, his class, mumble amongst themselves in discontent. The name Ardufya II was something of another infamous name in Adrestian military history.

Now, in Almyra, the name was something rather different. His relief stood in the Hall of Golden Bows in Parsa for a reason.

A reason that the leader of the Golden Deer was all too aware of. Even from so far away, Byleth could see the recognition on his face, and even the fondness.

Hmm, seems like if we ever seat down and he's not wearing his mask, we'll have something to talk about. Byleth internally mused.

Getting an idea, Byleth grabbed the eraser again and put it to use. The image of the heavy cavalrymen remained, but it was joined by an image of its opposite-light cavalry. Many students realized where the lesson plan was about to go.

He'd already answered a few questions, and he was no doubt going to answer some more. Byleth was also certain that he was going to be quelling some discontent in challenging some preconceived beliefs. So far, he'd already done some of that, and he was only just getting started.

---

Archbishop's Office, 4:10 PM…

"You can come in now, Caden, I'm finished."

The Alliance native poked his head in, looking less like a grown man and more like a child. An excitable child who had a rather unconventional request. Such a trait was something about him that she found endearing.

"Done for the moment?" he jokingly asked.

Smiling, Rhea slid aside the stack of papers she'd just spent the last twenty minutes reviewing. Demands and requests, many of which Rhea was going to deny. It would no doubt further enflame tensions with the Western Church, but she expected to reach an impasse with them. Thankfully, things had gone a little better with the Eastern Church, then again, trouble with them was entirely once in a blue moon occurrence, and even then it rarely held a candle to the Church's western counterpart.

As he sat down, Rhea murmured a silent thank you to the goddess that no major trouble had crossed her desk, or Seteth's. A small delegation had shown up from De Goth, and as per usual she'd get complaints about what they saw. Also, per usual, they'd leave stewing in anger at their so-called complaints being blown off by her. Finally, she'd get the angry letter from Bishop Deegan. All perfectly routine.

"So, Caden, what is it that you need of me?" She asked.

Rhea's first clue was the smile he gave her, a very obvious attempt to butter her up. "Well, it's a about the Academy's new professor, the-"

"Byleth. Byleth Eisner." She said, potentially corrected. Though she was still smiling, her sigh was undoubtedly one of exacerbation. I should have known. "You wish to fight him, don't you?"

"Yep! I want a sparring match with him!" The Scarlet Needle declared. He knew perfectly well that his seemingly simple request wasn't so cut and dry. "I promise, I won't kill him! Or maim him!"

Rhea let out another exacerbated sigh. "Caden, I…had a feeling this was coming. Especially after you had your match with Jeralt."

"Yeah, I'd like another go at him, but…I'm fully aware he has more important things to do. As do I, but I'm hoping you can allot some time for me to, for us to…have a go at each other. Within safety measures of course." This wasn't the Caden that most people were used to. This was the Caden that only Rhea and a very select few had the opportunity to see and get to know. It was the side of him that showed he truly was a good man beneath his crudeness and bloodlust. Some of that bloodlust was seeping through now, but it was being kept in check remarkably well.

"By safety measures, you'd mean to have someone overseeing the match? Perhaps Seteth?" Rhea questioned. He gave a short, humorous laugh. The millennia-year-old woman returned the sentiment. "Seteth told me he discussed with you his fears and uncertainties."

He placed both his hands atop the table, hands that had been stained with the blood of hundreds. Much of it had been spilled in her name, thus the man before her, his actions were her responsibility. That wasn't something Caden needed to be told that. For all of his rambunctious nature, he was an intelligent man, but most important he was a committed man. When he gave his word, he kept it to the best of his ability, even if it meant curbing his own impulses. That's why he'd came to her first, to ask for her blessings before chasing after his own desires.

"Fighting him won't alleviate Seteth's fears, but…maybe some of my own. Milady, you know what kind of person I am." He said with an almost defeated smile.

"Yes, I know, Caden." She replied, sounding like the understanding mother she tried to be to her followers, and her "children". Amongst them all, Caden stood out in his own way, a way he was displaying now. "How strong do you think he will be?"

"Well, I doubt the kid's Nemesis, especially since he doesn't have the Sword of the Creator. That said, I've heard the stories about him. After battling his father, I'm more inclined to believe they're true and not just exaggerations. Lady Rhea, is it possible you're just a little bit-"

"No, Caden." She softly retorted. "His strength was never in doubt in my eyes." A smile graced her face as the War Master shot her an inquisitive stare. "He is his father's son, and that is all I need to know in regards to his fighting ability." Rhea moved her eyes away from Caden's, and down to her hands, also land across the table. She inhaled, temporarily falling back into the past, over twenty years into the past at that. "He is his father's son, as well as his mother's."

"It doesn't surprise me that you know his mother as well." Caden casually remarked. His normally fierce face was soft and kind. If Rhea had to guess, he was likely thinking about Jeralt. Though their clash had been…restrained, it'd been enough for the fist-throwing knight to foster a respect, and a curiosity, for the man who was his predecessor in many ways. "I've spotted him hanging by the grave, Sitri, right? Sitri Eisner."

"Yes, a kind soul…and the one whom Byleth…inherited his Crest from so to speak." She could tell that Caden wanted to ask her more about Sitri. Rhea might have told him, if she didn't let the paint of her memory show on her face. It wasn't like she meant to, but when she thought of the woman who'd became her closest friend in ages, it was just…inevitable. Hearing of how Jeralt had visited her grave made her feel guilty for not making the time to do so herself. It felt like a betrayal to Sitri.

Her internal dismay wasn't hidden, something she was reminded of as Caden stood up. When she next looked at him, he was in the midst of a deep bow.

"Caden, I'm sorry." She immediately apologized.

"No, no. I didn't mean to rouse any unpleasant memories, Lady Rhea. As for my request, please, just for-"

"I will grant it." Again, just like a child, Caden's face lit up. He just barely kept contained a shout of childish joy. Rather, he seemed to channel it into a grin, an ear-to-ear grin that would have been seen as unsettling by some people. She had a hunch that if Jeralt saw it, he'd be…just a tiny bit unnerved by it. Of course, she was sure he had confidence in his son, just as she did. "However, I have some conditions." Hearing that caused Caden to sit back down and ready himself. "It goes without saying, but I will say it anyway, you are forbidden from using the full power of your Scarlet Sting. You may go up to no more than Decem."

The Scarlet Sting was a dangerous fighting style, Rhea knew that from personal experience. She was one of the very few who could attest to taking all fifteen stings multiple times. She had her dragon scales to thank for that. Such a boon was one that Byleth didn't have.

Potentially yet.

"Alright, I can do that. If he's the kind of fighter I think he is, he should be able to stand up to Scarlet Sting Decem."

"Good. The second condition is this, you must wait until after Saint Macuil Day."

"Heh, you know, I kind of had a feeling you'd throw that in there. How's about the weekend after?"

"That will do. As for the place, should you accept it, I grant you permission to use Jagen Plateau for this sparring match."

Caden whistled. "You know that's going to attract a lot of attention, letting us use Jagen Plateau."

"Byleth is certainly deserving of it, not to mention it can give you two the space you'd need to fight to your hearts' content."

"Hehehe, isn't that the truth. He may not have that legendary sword, but he should still be good enough to give me a challenge. I'll be the first one in centuries to clash with a wielder of the Crest of Flames."

"An honor that clearly excites you." Rhea cheerily chirped. She knew that Caden was hardly the only warrior in her ranks who salivated at such an opportunity. No doubt as Byleth's reputation grew, other knights would step forward to challenge him. Rhea was confident they'd learn he was more than just his Crest, much like his father. "As I told you, restraint, but otherwise, you are free to fight as you wish. I also trust you'll do your best to harbor no hard feelings, correct?"

"Of course not, milady! You know me!" The brawling knight shouted. Rhea let out an amused laugh at the very childlike excitement coming from the thirty-four-year-old. "Um, if I may ask…what are the odds that you'll be watching us?"

The question actually surprised her. It was within her capabilities to watch the match from afar, but she couldn't help but wonder if she'd have the time to. Rhea couldn't help but feel skeptical that she'd have the free time to watch. Then again, a part of her had hope.

With his request having been granted, Caden gave her a deep bow before turning to the door. "Thank you, Lady Rhea. I wish you the best for the rest of the day."

"And I you, Caden." The green-haired woman replied. Just as he'd came in, he left with a smile. Once he was gone, Rhea laced her hands together and leaned back in her seat. "It'll be quite the fight, even if neither of them are going at their full power." Caden would be testing the son as he had the father, a sentiment that she suspected wasn't an anomaly. "Jeralt," she whispered. A few seconds of thinking on it, that's all she needed to do. When Jeralt returned from the northern mountains, she'd tell him about this up incoming fight. Rhea wondered if he'd attend it himself. At the very least she could try to make some time for that. She doubted he'd object to it, especially since on some level he possibly wanted to know how his son measured up to the knights he now served with.

"Look at you, Rhea. You've become more of a warrior than I could have ever imagined. I'd say I'm proud, but…not like this. Not like this."

Fighting had never been an interest to her, not compared to botany. Even now, it still didn't, but Rhea could admit she'd gained a…taste for it. A taste and an eye, both of which she hadn't gained willingly. Likewise, she'd rather not have been in this position, being the one that a warrior came to for permission for a duel. The fact that she was reminded her just how far removed from her original path she was. It still amazed her when she reminisced about it, centuries after she'd lost her people and her home.

Thinking of home made her drift back to the arenas, especially the Bellum Arena. So many of the knights would have enjoyed fighting it in during its prime, especially Caden. Rhea suspected that Byleth would as well.

Her hands tightened as she realized that if the arena was still around…odds were Caden, the knights, and even Byleth likely wouldn't be.

Just as a heavy sigh passed from her lips, her ears twitched behind her hair. The sound of frantic footsteps was nothing new to her, as was heavy breathing. She silently counted down the steps, only acting after she heard the loud knocks on the door and granting the priest permission to enter.

"L-L-Lady Rhea, I apologize for interrupting you, b-b-but…"

"No need for apologizes. I was actually…just finishing up." The truth was a part of her was looking forward to having a little bit of leisure time, but that possibility may have vanished into the wind. Rhea didn't waste time dwelling on it though. "What is it? Has something happened?"

After a minute of composing himself, the priest stood upright, first giving her a bow then inhaling to speak. "Lady Rhea, several minutes ago there was an…incident, between Professor Eisner and one of the knights from the Western Branch. Sir Eccles I believe."

Rhea felt a stone drop in her stomach, and it wasn't her heart. Her eyes closed in aggravation, yet her composure remained. The truth was an incident like this wasn't quite as shocking as it could have been. Especially considering it was Sebastian Eccles that was the preparator. Nor was it a surprise to her that he'd taken issue with Byleth. "Was there a fight between them?"

"A…scuffle, your holiness." He admitted. "W-While a full-on fight didn't break out, well, I have a feeling that one will occur. Also, ma'am, there will likely be some…more friction with the Western Church. The scuffle involved Prince Dimitri and the Duscur orphans we've been tending to."

Her attention was hooked and her spine straightened as she rose to her feet. "Have they been harmed?"

The priest shook his head. "No, ma'am, thanks to Professor Eisner. He's currently in the infirmary being treated for burns. Sir Eccles is…nearby in custody. He's demanded to see you."

First, there was relief at hearing that the Monastery's young wards were safe. Second, she felt a surge of pride in hearing that Byleth had been the one to defend them. If not for her self-control, Rhea's sure she'd have given a very visible smile. As expected of him. Came her quiet musing. "Please, take me to the infirmary to see Professor Eisner, and potentially the children. Afterward, I will speak with Sir Eccles." She replied in a neutral tone.

"Yes, ma'am, please follow me."

Her office was left behind and the surroundings of the third floor flew by in a flash. As they walked, her mind rapidly formulated a picture of what she was going to come upon. Byleth was fine, and especially the orphans-those were the things that mattered, and those were the things she was grateful for. Now, how that scenario came to be, was the question. Based on what she knew, Rhea could take a guess though; she'd bet on herself given she knew the personalities of several involved. Including the instigator.

Sebastian Cichol Eccles was undoubtedly a skilled fighter; to Rhea's chagrin, she'd even say some of his arrogance was somewhat warranted. As a swordsman, he was a strong contender for the role of strongest swordsman in the entire Seiros Knighthood, on par or stronger even than Catherine and Orlando. Unlike either of them though, his personality-his empathy-was sorely lacking. He was a fine byproduct of Faerghus' warrior culture and the Western Church's extremist views.

Remembering that Prince Dimitri had been present, Rhea also recalled his Duscur retainer, Dedue. If he was present then…the idea frankly sent a shudder of anxiety through her. She hoped he was as unharmed as his younger countrymen.

As she'd came to expect, her entrance into the infirmary brought with it a wave of awe, murmurs, and bows. It took a gentle wave on her part to tell everyone, especially the healers to carry on.

"Lady Rhea!"

Unfortunately, that excluded Manuela, who temporarily broke off her healing to greet her. She wasn't alone as those around her did the same. Prince Dimitri, Dedue, the Duscur orphans, Amira, an unknown female, and lastly Byleth. All but the orphans and Byleth snapped to attention, giving her a bow of respect. Rhea's focus though was on Byleth though.

Her nose wrinkled and her heartbeat ticked up just a tad as she smelled burnt flesh. It was coming from his right hand, currently being tended to by Manuela. Her bandaging and healing had been interrupted by her arrival.

"Lady Rhea," Byleth said. The sound of his voice speaking to her so formally temporarily brought her back to their last talk. Where they were now was the opposite, in public, referring to one another with official titles, and the subject of his burnt hand being the subject. "Sorry for inconveniencing you."

Before she could even get a word out, Dimitri stepped forward. "Please, Lady Rhea, it's my fault. I-"

"Oh, stop it, both of you!" Amira cried. "It's neither of your faults, because neither of you were doing anything wrong! It was Sebastian being his normal, insufferable self."

"Isn't that the truth." Manuela affirmed with a heavy-hearted sigh.

"Ah, so he's always like that, huh?" Spoken the unknown woman. She was a blonde like Amira, albeit her hair was a few shades darker, a dirty blonde at that. As opposed to Amira's cerulean eyes, hers were honey brown. Quickly looking over her body, Rhea noted she had a warrior's build, but that wasn't what truly caught her attention. It was her stomach.

Small as it was, it was slightly swollen; it'd increase in time as her pregnancy continued on until she gave birth.

While she made her silent observation, the group seemingly regained their composure. Also, one of the children stepped forward. He was young, no more than perhaps ten years old, perhaps amongst the oldest in the group.

"Lady Rhea, we're sorry, it's our-" He began, only to be cut off by the gentle touch of a hand on his head. Mouth agape, he looked up into the eyes of the black-clad swordsman.

"No, everyone. If it's anyone's fault. It's mine, no one else's." Byleth declared.

Rhea was silently thrown back in time. He truly is Sitri's son. Oh, Sitri, how proud of him you'd be. She softly mused. "I believe I shall be the judge of that. From what I heard, you stepped in to save these little ones."

"He did." Not only was Dedue the most imposing one of the group, his voice carried with it the same booming aura. Rhea looked to him and saw nothing but honesty in his eyes, and heard it in his voice.

She looked around the group, finding them all agreeing with him. It was a struggle to keep a smile from forming on her face, so Rhea didn't even try.

His face brightened if only a little seeing the outpouring of positive support, including perhaps from her. Sitting back down on the bed, he seemingly realized that she wanted an explanation, his explanation first and foremost.

"It began almost twenty minutes ago." He began. "I was helping Dimitri and the others in teaching swordsmanship to some of the orphans."

---

Twenty-Five Minutes Earlier…

"Byleth! Byleth, you wouldn't happen to have any time on your hands, would you?"

The clicking of the lock on the door was perfectly timed. "I do, Neela, what is it that you need?" Byleth had a list of the top five greatest horsemen in the world. His father stood at the top of that list, and in second place was the woman barely three feet from him. She could also said to be the pegasus rider he'd ever known, and the woman responsible for introducing him to pegasi in the first place. And she was the woman who gave him his first ride on one.

Honestly, whenever he thought of a pegasus, the dirty blonde woman who served as his father's third in command and raid captain popped into his mind. Like several others, everything Byleth knew about a certain subject, in this case pegasi and aerial combat, he could trace to her. Also, like Gilah, it was thanks to her that he had an inkling of what a mother's affection felt like. In a few months, Neela would actually become a mother. A child of her own, hers and her husband's. The thought of that drew Byleth's eyes down to her baby bump.

Since her pregnancy had started to show, Neela had to cut back on wearing armor, along with active combat.

"Hey, I thought I told you to stop doing that." Came her amused voice as she titled his head upward.

"Sorry, guess I still can't kick the habit." He responded with a slight humorous tone. It wasn't like he'd never seen a pregnant woman before. Byleth had seen plenty, but…those women had all been strangers to him. The woman before him wasn't, she was…one of the people that he'd say were family.

"Well, give it a try, particularly before this little one gets here. Speaking of little ones, how do you feel about doing some more teaching?"

"You're teaching the orphans?" He immediately deduced.

"Yes, and I'd like your help. Actually, I'm helping out Prince Dimitri and I happened to mention your name." Grinning, she moved her finger from his forehead to his chest, lightly jabbing it. "He's quite taken with you, Byleth. Hehehe, I can't wait to see how the kids respond to you. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

He knew she was referring to little kids, not the teenagers that he'd spent the last few weeks teaching. "Yes, it has, so why not. I don't see the harm in it."

"Great, come on!"

Going from weapons to children, such an odd shift for a person like him. Mere minutes ago, he was surveying the multitude of weapons he'd collected over the years. And now he was entering a once vacant classroom. The second he entered the classroom, all eyes shot to him.

Byleth was glad that he'd long since became used to such reactions, though there were times he could be overwhelmed. Did the stares of half a dozen children overwhelm him? Not so much. His gaze swept over the room, analyzing almost everyone and everything in it.

Eight kids in total, many of whom were Duscurian, just like Dedue. Their ages ranged from ten at the oldest to perhaps five or six at the youngest. Surprisingly an even divide between four fours and four girls. All of them stared at Byleth in awe as he entered the room, looking at him as if he'd just walked out of a story book, or perhaps a tale being told to them.

"Professor Eisner, I…I'm glad you decided to come." Called the head of the Blue Lions.

"I had some free time." He at first answered. Byleth eyed the practice sword held in Dimitri's hand, as well as those held in the hands of a handful of the students. He felt a strong throbbing in his chest. "Sword practice."

"I heard you're quite a good swordsman." The prince half-jokingly stated.

Byleth felt an upward tick of his lips. "I'd like to think of myself as such."

There were those in the room that recognized sarcasm, including the woman beside him. And then there was the other woman in the room. Byleth immediately guessed her to be a knight, in fact, he could have sworn he recognized her. Golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes, a rather beautiful face that shined with joy. That light reached to the two children beside her; they held sketch pads like her. Also like her, the boy and the girl were in awe. Especially the girl.

"Children, I give you, Byleth Eisner, the Ashen Warrior!" Neela proclaimed in the best showman voice she could manage.

"But I thought it was the Ashen Demon?" One of the boys said.

"I thought demons had horns and a tail? He doesn't look like a demon." Another girl said.

"Oh, Byleth's a special kind of demon! Strong and kind as they come!" The Jeralt Mercenary's flying flight expert cheerily explained. She giggled as Byleth gave her an aside stare. "Hey, you told me you'd like a nickname that's better sounding than the Ashen Demon."

"I did." He admitted. "Urgh, it just…"

"Doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it?" Neela guessed, still wearing that same cherry grin. "Hey, you've got the chance to make up a better one for yourself!"

Byleth internally groaned. He'd never concerned himself with things like nicknames and monikers, he tried not to. Still, as he'd seen and learned, they came with a reputation that was sometimes hard to shake. Shaking off the dismay, he gave a slight bow to the royal in the room. "Prince Dimitri, may I…help out?"

"Gladly! Also, you have no need to be so formal here. Just calling me Dimitri is fine." The male blond corrected. He turned his attention back to the woman off to the side. With the two children behind her, he gestured toward her. "Professor, I don't believe you two have gotten formally acquainted. This Amira von Hlín, of the-"

"Knights of Seiros, leader of the Fifth Division." Byleth cut off.

"Hehehe, I had a feeling you'd do that as soon as the introductions started." Byleth slightly lowered his head in apology to Dimitri, who merely chuckled in amusement. Looking back at Amira, he found himself the recipient of a sharp, analytical gaze.

Looking back at the desk that she'd been sitting at and the sketchpad, he reached a conclusion. "You're an artist?"

"Hah! Yep! Sorry if I was a little too forward. I was just memorizing every detail of your face so I can make a portrait later. You wouldn't mind that, would you? Have you ever had your portrait drawn before?"

"To the first question, yes, and to the second question, no, I wouldn't mind it." Looking down, he saw the two kids behind Amira staring at him, their eyes still filled with awe. Taking a step back, he kneeled so he was just about eye-level with them. They moved out from behind her, the boy and the girl. "You all have my permission, and it's nice to meet all of you." When he held out his hand, he was a tad nervous if it'd be taken. That nervousness was dispelled as the two children quickly stepped forward, placing theirs atop of his. "You can just call me Byleth."

"I'm Gabria, it's nice to meet you!" He could already tell that the girl was the more energetic one.

"Hello, I'm Hammid." Said the boy. "I, uh, thank you for coming, and letting us draw you."

"And I'm Cadell!" Byleth liked the look in the second boy's eyes as he ran forward. There was already a thin sheen of sweat on his face. "I want to learn from you too, Mister Byleth!"

"Me too!"

"Yeah, and me!"

"I'll teach all of you what I can, alongside those here." The kids reminded him of Caspar, a comparison that actually warmed his heart just a smidgen. Seeing them all so eager, Byleth couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement similar to when he'd see a glint of eagerness in his students. His teenage students.

For the next ten minutes, the students he taught were children. Not only that, but he could say that he had teaching assistants.

In another life, Byleth knew he'd be an instructor to Dimitri and Dedue. Within minutes, he believed that would have been a life as equally rewarding as his current one. Despite his forte being the spear, Dimitri undoubtedly knew his way with a sword. As if in compliment to this, Dedue was better skilled with an axe, which made him a good sparring partner for them and Neela. She clearly wasn't letting her ongoing pregnancy slow her down, though Byleth suspected that this was perhaps the closest she could come to fighting.

Her husband, Guison, his father, Ron, and everyone else had been pretty insistent on making sure she stayed away from heavy combat. That naturally meant no active missions, and potentially no flying. It hurt, but Byleth was glad to see the continued brightness of her smile.

Off to the side, he noticed how Amira seemed to be guiding Hammid and Gabria. If they were teaching the children how to be fighters, then she was teaching them how to be artists. Quite unexpected for technically the first Division Captain he'd met, but he'd learned that people were varied in personality and interests.

Thump!

"W-W-Waaah!" Cadell panted as he lay within Dedue's arms, the giant student being more than capable of moving fast. And handling small things with great care, as Byleth had seen him do in the greenhouse. Just like in the greenhouse, he had a small smile on his face as he lowered his younger countryman down to the ground. "That was…that was…can I do that?"

Byleth leisurely twirled his wooden sword. "When you have more strength than your opponent, yes, you can. Your timing is also important, Cadell."

"Yes, as Professor Eisner said, that was a basic counter, and such a move can actually turn a battle around." Dimitri added. He gripped his own practice blade as he stepped forward. "Professor,"

A small jolt of excitement raced through Byleth. "Yes. Children, please watch carefully." Even though they moved off to the side to give them some space, Byleth spotted how the kids were still leaning forward, eager to watch the ensuing match. Son too was Neela, who winked at him in support. Though he remained taciturn, Dedue gave off similar waves of support toward his liege. Heh, suppose we both have people backing us up, no matter what. Byleth thought with a wistful smile. "Ready?"

"Yes sir!"

"Then en guard!"

The jolt, the excitement, the rush, it was all there and more as he clashed swords with the future king of Faerghus. One clash quickly multiplied into many as his body moved on pure instinct. It seemed the same could be said for the prince. Amidst their clashes, he caught the smile on Dimitri's face. Byleth didn't know for sure, but he believed he was smiling as well.

Though they were both holding back, Byleth could tell Dimitri was trying to feel him out. That was fine as he was doing the same. He wanted to see more of what he fought back at the mock battle. Needless to say, he was getting his wish, and putting on something of a show for their young spectators. There was no doubt that they'd be clamoring to learn how they could fight like the two of them currently were doing.

That made what happened next all the more bittersweet.

"Aaaaarrghhh!"

Byleth immediately stopped, as did Dimitri. Their eyes met, wide with shock and concern for they both knew what that sound was. They recognized the sound of someone being attacked. Looking around, Dedue, Neela, and Amira recognized it as well. So too did the children.

"Dedue, look after the children and Miss Neela." Dimitri said.

"Hey, I'm-oh forget it. Kids, stay behind us!" The Pegasus Knight declared.

Gripping his practice sword tightly, Byleth dashed out the door with Dimitri in toe. He sprinted right where he heard the shouting coming from. Far from being a lone cry, it was one of a continuous series. Someone was being beaten.

Within seconds, he saw that someone was another native of Duscur, but unlike the kids, this one was an adult, and a student based on his uniform.

And his attacker was a knight.

Thump!

"Let go." He snarled.

"You first." Byleth hit back, his tone ice-cold. So too were his eyes, which glared back at the man's own cold turquoise-colored eyes. The contempt they held for the Duscurian boy switched to him. He wasn't intimidated in the slightest. "Release him, now."

"And who are you to order me?" He sneered.

"He is a professor at this academy, and he is right, Sir Sebastian! Release him this instant!" As opposed to his icy fury, Dimitri's was hot. It was dripping with righteous anger shook the area.

Byleth never took his eyes off the man. He knew for a fact if he did, it wouldn't end well. There was also a part of him that wanted to commit his face to memory. It was just a hunch, but he had a feeling that he and this man weren't going to be getting along. He reminded him of a type of knight that Byleth was all too familiar with, and utterly loathed.

Curly auburn hair wit bangs that parted around his eyes, teal-blue eyes. Byleth guessed him to be in his late twenties to perhaps his early thirties at best. He also guessed that this man was a seasoned knight. That sort of thing usually went hand in hand with the type of disdain that he fixed him with. At the very least his scorn was on him instead of the boy whom he'd been beating a second ago. Unfortunately, he'd yet to release his grip on him. To get that to happen, Byleth applied some pressure to his right fist. He wasn't expecting it to be easy, and he was right as the malice aimed at him doubled in intensity.

"Sir Sebastian!" Dimitri yelled again. "Release Avar at once!"

"Prince Dimitri, you…actually know this swine's name?" Spat the knight.

"He is a member of the Blue Lions, so yes, of course I know his name! And at this moment, you are endangering his life!" It was clear that Dimitri was on the verge of losing his temper and striking at the man. Byleth quietly resolved to act before he did. If anyone was going to take the fall for this, it was better him than the prince, or Neela or Amira.

He applied more force. "Let him go. Now." Byleth repeated.

The knight did.

Within seconds, Dimitri moved to catch the Duscur boy, alongside another person. Byleth hadn't noticed her before, but with the student's release, he saw her rush to his side. Tears spilled from her eyes as she fretted over his injuries. He had all of three seconds to mull over the scene before he reacted to the left hook coming his way.

It felt like catching a war hammer in his hand. He's fast and strong. Byleth remarked while he held back his knightly adversary's hand. Doing so was requiring genuine effort on his part.

"Professor Eisner!" Dimitri cried in alarm.

"Sebastian! Enough of this!" Came Amira's incensed voice.

"Eisner?" The male brunette repeated. An eyebrow was raised in curiosity, yet none of the strength behind his left fist was lost. "Eisner, then…you must be him, Byleth Eisner. The mercenary who now teaches at the Officers Academy."

He silently nodded. "And you are?"

"Someone who's not to be trifled with, especially not by a foreign cur like you."

"Sebastian! Watch your words!" Amira shouted again. "He's no foreigner! He's a native of Fόdlan just like the rest of us! In fact, the blood of Faerghus flows through him just as much as it does you via-"

"Via his father, the traitor who was dragged back to Garreg Mach. Why Capri was demoted for his sake, I can only pray Lady Rhea will have a somewhat reasonable explanation for." Responded the knight in a displeasing tone.

Being insulted was nothing new to Byleth. Having his father be directly and indirectly insulted was also nothing new to him. Having the Archbishop, his ultimate employer, insulted was new to him. Despite the triple assault, he did not lash out. Not verbally.

The air grew hot and heavy as his cobalt eyes reached a new level of frigidness. "Who. Are you." He repeated in a voice dripping with tightly controlled venom.

His glare was returned with equal disdain. "I am Sebastian Cichol Eccles of the Western Church. It seems I will also be the one forced to teach you proper manners, Professor Eisner."

He felt it coming, right down to his bones. Time slowed to a crawl as he weighed his options. If he pulled his hand away, there was no telling what this man would do. Barring perhaps Dimitri, it was clear the man in front of him held a disdain for every person present, especially those of Duscur. He spied Dedue standing beside Dimitri. This man, Sebastian, might try to attack him next, or go after the Blue Lions student named Avar. Or worse, perhaps the orphans.

Byleth made his choice in the next half a second.

FWWWOOOM!

Even he had to admit, it hurt. It hurt. Byleth had held fire in his hands, lightning, and magma too, but they paled in comparison to the raw heat that was burning his hand down to the bone. Within seconds, even with the channeling of his life force, he felt his skin burning away. Next to go was the flesh beneath it, but that held strong, for the moment anyway. He nakedly winced in pain as the struggle persisted, his right hand quite literally being set on fire by Sebastian's left. Even looking at the golden-colored blaze coming from their struggling hands hurt. The light was so bright, brighter even than a flash of lightning.

His nose wrinkled with the smell of burning flesh, his burning flesh. At this rate, he was going to lose his dominant hand. Just as he began to reach deep inside of him, he heard movement.

"SEBASTIAN! ENOUGH! SOTHIS, HELP ME, IF YOU WON'T STOP THEN I WILL TAKE YOUR ARM OFF!" If Amira hadn't been angry before, then she certainly was now. No, she furious, and one-hundred-percent willing to follow through on her threat. Held in her right hand was a sword of solid, burning light. Byleth had seen magical constructs like it, and he knew from experience its sharpness could surpass a physical blade by a mile. It'd cut through flesh like a knife through butter.

Despite likely knowing that himself, Sebastian didn't seem shaken by the threat. He merely looked back to the blonde with mild annoyance at best. "Amira, you'd stand for this outside to continue to defile-"

"Silence! The only one doing the defiling here is you, you arrogant dastard!"

"I agree, and now, release the Professor, now!" Dimitri roared.

Sebastian Eccles didn't seem too bothered by Amira's words, but at Dimitri's he seemed to budge. Based on what the blonde had said, he was a native of Faerghus, and despite being a Seiros Knight, he still owed his loyalty to his birthland's future royal family. The kingly authority Dimitri would one day would was being put to use, and to the test.

It proved worthwhile, much to Byleth's internal relief.

The blaze died down, and with great force, Sebastian wrenched his hand free. Byleth didn't show any outward relief, partially because he was still somewhat numbed by the pain in his right hand. It was burning, smoking. Moving his fingers brought him pain, but he could do so; he'd experienced similar wounds in the past. His cold glare lingered on Sebastian, who returned the sentiment.

"Don't ever touch a student of this school in my presence again." Byleth barked in a cold whisper.

"I will not be given orders by the likes of you, especially someone like you. Unqualified to teach the future of Fόdlan's future youth. It's to the goddess I give thanks that you're not sullying Faerghus' future youth with your twisted, ludicrous-"

"Sebastian Eccles! Enough of this! One more word and I will deal with you myself!" Dimitri's voice seemingly shook the ground beneath them. What control he had over himself was slipping. Just because he wasn't physically harming anyone didn't meant that the tension had died down. "Professor Eisner has done no wrong." He growled out.

"Oh, I beg to differ, your highness. And he is not the only one in the wrong here." For the first time, his glare was turned to someone else.

Byleth noted the physical similarities between Sebastian and the girl, also a student, likely of the Blue Lions House. He deemed there to be a blood relation between the two, and that relation was another cause for the knight's outrage. She could sense an explosion of rage directed at her was coming and it made her tremble, even as the Duscurian boy moved to defend her. That simply made Sebastian angrier.

"Charlène, get away from that swine. You've disgraced our family enough already." He spat.

Despite her fear, the brunette shook her head in defiance. "No! The only one who's disgrace our family today is you, uncle!"

"I am not the one who's asserted with murderous vermin!" It was the first time that he'd raised his voice. In doing so, Byleth felt like he'd just been given a somewhat valuable piece of information regarding the man in front of him.

"I shall repeat this as many times as I must, the people of Duscur are innocent!" The knight wasn't the only one who had a nerve touched. Dimitri had as well.

"Prince Dimitri, with all due respect, your testimony can-"

"Can't you at least be honest in that you're going to ignore everything he says?" Byleth sniped. As he expected, he regained Sebastian's attention-or rather his ire. While he once more weathered his glare, he quickly beckoned to the Blue Lions with his fingers.

Dedue and Charlène got the message. As quickly as they could, they pulled Avar away. Meanwhile, Dimitri strode toward Byleth's side, making it clear where he stood. His presence likewise heavily detoured Sebastian from striking again. His blue eyes looked to the prince irritation, but they ultimately returned to Byleth.

I guess it's official, I've made my first enemy amongst the knights. Byleth affirmed seconds before he heard the clattering of boots. He looked behind Sebastian to see a small squadron of knights approaching them.

"Sebastian!" One of them shouted. "Enough of this! Anymore and you'll be under arrest for disorderly conduct as well!"

"As well?" He half-mockingly called.

"Well, you have struck an academy student, and threatened another." Amira called in a disdainful voice. "By all means, add to your list of charges. I'll be more than happy to testify."

Byleth could sense the desire to argue with her, and resist, but Sebastian Eccles tamed the urge. First, he looked to the girl who was seemingly his niece. Second the boy that she'd been with, his glare magnifying. The intensity remained as he shifted his gaze to Dedue. Both Duscur natives stood strong in defiance of his glare. It was more than likely not the first time they'd been the recipients of such racism, they knew it well, and they knew not to cave into it. Finally, his teal eyes fell on Byleth.

"You, Professor Eisner," he began in a cold voice. "If you are to teach here at Garreg Mach, I'd highly advise you to learn the proper way of things. These children are the best and brightest of Fόdlan, and they deserve more than some heretical street wisdom." With that, he turned to leave, only to stop half-way. His eyes still cold as his homeland's natural gale, he spoke again. "Oh, and some personal advice. Take care when teaching those…kids. They're treacherous by nature, and like the late king, you may find yourself regretting trying to civilize them." With that, he fully turned to take his leave, pushing past the knights who'd hurried over. Several grabbed at him, heatedly tearing into him.

Byleth's right arm shot up, halting the outrage ready to spill forth from Dimitri. "He's not worth it."

The blond prince's eyes closed and his fists tightened. "On behalf of all of Faerghus, Professor Eisner, I apologize."

"You have no need to." As soon as he finished speaking, he winced in pain. His attention was turned to his hand. It looked like he'd grabbed a lump of magma with his bare hands.

"Best have Manuela take a look at that. And that," Amira remarked with indication to Avar's face. It undoubtedly looked like the boy had taken a beating, even before Byleth and the others had arrived on the scene.

"Right then, to the infirmary it is." Neela sounded off. Byleth looked back at her and saw she'd remained behind, all of the Duscur children crowding behind her. No, she'd stood in front of them, shielding them against any harm that might have came to them.

"So it is." He affirmed, wincing in agony again.

---

Present…

"And that's what happened. I'm-"

"We're sorry for the disturbance! We asked Prince Dimitri to train the orphans and were on our way there when we…we…"

"I understand, and no, neither of you are at fault." Rhea looked to Charlène Eccles with sympathy. Amongst the noble but bigoted Eccles, she was a rarity. That undoubtedly had to do with her choice of company…and her choice of lovers. She turned her attention to her chosen other, bowing toward him. "On behalf of the Church of Seiros, I apologize for the behavior of my knight."

Avar was clearly caught off guard by the words and the gesture, and for good reason. As a Duscurian, he probably wasn't expecting such an apology from her, the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros. He was entitled to it though as much as anyone else. He and his people were entitled to the serenest apology she could give in light of what had happened to them, and the Church had been unable to prevent.

"I-It's…don't apologize, Lady Rhea. You're not at fault. I blame that bastard and the sect that he belongs to." Avar's words were emotionally raw, truthfully though. He was undoubtedly far from the only Duscurian to harbor such feelings for the Western Church.

And Rhea fully agreed those feelings were warranted. Speaking of which, she turned back to Byleth; she was certain that he'd known been given a very dim view of the Western Church and its knights. That view too was warranted, and she feared it would only get worse.

"I promise that there will be consequences for Sebastian's actions, and he will trouble you no further." By that, what she really meant was that she'd love to have him excommunicated, both from the knighthood and the church. Unfortunately, Rhea couldn't do either, not without starting a battle she wasn't sure she wanted fought here and now.

Locking eyes with Byleth, she saw in him a desire to do something about Sebastian himself. Where as his kindness reminded her of his mother, the look of seriousness irritation reminded her of his father. When it came to squabbles with fellow knights, Jeralt always preferred the direct approach-a duel. Thinking about it, she bitterly noted the coincidentally way things had played out today. Caden would certainly applaud Byleth for standing up to Sebastian, but he'd also be a little irritated that now the young man's focus might be on him instead.

"Lady Rhea," he called out.

"Yes?"

"Do we have permission to continue teaching the kids?" He questioned.

Slowly, a smile crept onto her face. "Yes, by all means. If anyone tries to stop you or says otherwise, simply inform me."

He smiled, a rather small, stoic smile. In doing so, he looked much like his father and his mother. "Thank you." His blue eyes swept over those around him, especially the children. Their faces brimmed with joy. It was enough to make Rhea's own heart swell with joy as well. His eyes shifted to Prince Dimitri, in his hand was a blood-soaked blue cloth Rhea immediately knew to be his shoulder cape. "Thank you, Dimitri."

"You're welcome, and please, keep it. As a token of my thanks, and my apology." Replied the prince.

"Just be sure to clean it. As great a memento as it is, it's probably for the best you rinse the blood out. Makes it a better memento."

His smile was still small, but it was certainly did, as was the humor in his voice. "Good point, Neela."

Rhea let a small giggle tumble from her lips, joining the rest of the group's. "Well done, I'm glad that the injuries were minor and everyone will walk away from this none the worse for wear. As I said, I will speak to Sebastian to ensure this doesn't happen again." She paused, looking straight at Byleth. Catching her gaze, he sat up straighter, readying himself for whatever she was about to say. "Professor Eisner, thank you, and please, continue teaching the students as you see fit. You have so far done a wonderful job, and I look forward to you continuing to do so."

His eyes widened, as did those of several around him, including Prince Dimitri and Dedue. The former broke into a smile first, followed by the latter, albeit on a smaller scale. Rhea knew the type of subdued joy and relief that he was exhibiting.

"Thank you, Lady Rhea. I'll continue to validate your faith in me." He spoke a quick bowing of his head. Looking back at her, she saw the smidgen of relief on his face. Somewhere inside, he was worried that she had something to say about his teaching methods and lessons.

Frankly, his "outsider's wisdom" was the sort that she believed the Officers Academy sorely needed. Many of the knights were good and world weary, but not quite as world weary as Byleth and Jeralt, whom actually traveled the world. It'd do the students, and the knights and monks, more good than they could imagine.

As much as a part of her wanted to stay, she knew she couldn't. She couldn't simply ask Byleth for another…private talk. Another time. Rhea thought to herself as she headed toward the door. Just before leaving, she looked back, a warm smile forming on her face. She heard the discussion as if she were right there. The children eagerly asking Byleth how he'd caught Sebastian's attack, and Charlène apologizing to Byleth on behalf of her uncle. He accepted her apology, more so for her sake than his own. He bore her no ill will, nor did he seem to think worse of the knights or the Church thanks to Sebastian.

Oddly enough, she did feel that he was owed one bit of thanks. As a result of this incident, she did get to see Byleth, and she was able to see him in the company of others. And looking happy at that, even if his smile was a little hard to see.

In time, just like a flower, it'll grow. The Nabatean remarked with a mental and a physical smile.

---

9:50 PM…

I must say, you're far more resilient than I gave you credit for, Byleth.

"Thanks for the compliment." Byleth replied with a thin smile. The pious often went their whole lives hoping to receive praise from the divine. That almost made Byleth feel a little bad about impressing the one in his head on an almost daily basis. Almost because when he got a compliment out of the green-haired specter, it felt good.

Despite her praise, she beckoned him to hold out his right hand so she could continue to inspect it. Her eyes were analytical and her pointy ears occasionally twitched as he told her of his encounter with Sebastian Eccles. Frankly, he'd been a little surprised that she'd slept through the entire thing.

Sebastian Cichol Eccles, the Blazing Knight. He was the strongest warrior in the Western Church's knighthood, actually he was a strong contender for one of the strongest knights in the all of the Church's knighthood. Hearing of this exploits from Amira.

"An arrogant ass, oh, by heavens, yes. But he is powerful." He remembered the angry sigh she gave as she told him of another fact pertaining to the brown-haired knight. "He's definitely stronger than me. Stronger than most of the captains save for Capri and probably your father."

"Hah! Certainly so. I'll admit, I've heard stories about him, but there's no way he's a match for Captain Jeralt." Neela cut in. Her gaze turned to Byleth, air sucked in, but no words coming out. "Byleth,"

"If I can get him into an arena, then I'll be looking forward to knocking him on his ass."

"Heh, could you just make sure there's an audience for that? Trust me, Professor Byleth, there's plenty of folks here who'd love to see you knock Sebastian off his high horse." Avar added

Even if his personality had quite a few problems, Charlène still seemed reluctant to speak ill of her uncle. That said, she seemingly found the strength to after a moment of contemplation. "I…don't like saying it, but…maybe that's what Uncle Sebastian could use."

Dimitri seemed to be in a similar boat, albeit he was slightly more open about his opinion. "It would be a humbling experience, I believe. As for a contest of strength, well, in such a battle, Professor Eisner, you would have my support."

"And mine as well." Dedue added.

"Well, Byleth, take solace in knowing that you've got some public backing! Especially the good kind!" Amira cheered. Her arm reached out and fell on his shoulder, the gesture was accented by the serious gleam in her blue eyes. "On a serious note you have to be careful, Byleth. As I said, Sebastian is strong, and I mean incredibly strong. Not only is he a mighty swordsman, he's also fully masted the use of his Crest, and he happens to be a Major Crest bearer as well. He's not called the Blazing Knight for nothing."

Hearing that Sebastian Eccles possessed a Major Crest had further enflamed the curiosity within him. The man had made quite a negative impression on him, but Byleth couldn't deny that he'd also shown himself to be a potential challenge. He threw punches fast, and hard at that. They were enough to down even a well-trained knight, Byleth knew that for certain. What's more, he also knew that Sebastian had been holding back despite his growing ire.

To have withstood the burn of plasma, hmm, I do agree with the others that it is for the best you refrain from using this hand for some time. At least a day or-

"Plasma?" Byleth questioned.

The ghostly spirit looked up at him, recognition seemingly dawning on her face. Ah, I see, you've never heard of it, have you? Smiling, she hovered a few inches away from him and held up her hands. While Sothis may have still been struggling to interact with the physical world, she'd learned to manage made do with her astral self. She could form projections, one of which Byleth was seeing. His room became lit by the ghostly glow of an orb of light, within it was another orb, from which shot various lightning bolts. Plasma is the fourth state of matter, specifically it is the result of electrons being torn away from their parent atoms via extreme heat.

"Extreme heat, huh? That certainly explains a lot." The former mercenary remarked.

I'm certain it does. After all, plasma is amongst the hottest substances in the universe. That said, it is still quite abundant. People see it every day without even knowing it, including you. She giggled as he bent his face in concentration as he struggled to decipher her words. The sun, you fool!

Byleth couldn't help but blink in amazement. "The sun?" he repeated.

Yes, yes, I know. You thought the sun was a giant ball of fire in the sky. Well…to a degree you're right, technically speaking, it IS a gas, but plasma is the more scientifically accurate description. All stars are made of plasma, including the one that shines over this planet.

The human looked back at his bandaged hand. "Well, hearing that actually makes me feel a little prouder. I withstood the force of a star and managed to keep my hand."

Hah! A fraction, a miniscule fraction, but in a sense, yes. It is interesting to note that man was capable of generating plasma in his hand. No doubt thanks to his Crest. Sothis said. Her projection disappeared as she moved her hand to her chin.

"Yes." He closed his fingers into a fist. There was a dull, aching pain, but his mind kept on racing. Remembering Amira's words, he now knew for certain that Sebastian had been holding back, and her warning was very much accurate. "How powerful can plasma be, Sothis?"

Obviously, it's hotter than fire. It can reach up to twenty-thousand degrees Celsius, whereas ordinary fire can't even reach a quarter of that. Of course, I am speaking of fire found in nature. With the application of magic, that gap can be bridged.

"…Thank you, Sothis." Byleth said.

She smirked. A clash between fire and plasma, the inferior and superior. When that battle takes place, it will be quite a spectacle. I'm sure it will leave much scorch earth in its wake.

"Based on what you said, that's a certainty." He remarked. "Granted, I'll have to be a lot stronger than I am now when that fight takes places." While he hadn't devoted serious effort to it since that afternoon chasing after Bernadetta, Byleth knew he was going to have to make time for magic. It'd came with some pain, but he'd been given some ample motivation. Byleth reached deep within him and concentrated, this time with intention.

Bright orange and yellow flames consumed his right hand. Byleth could feel it, the surge of mana racing through his veins, or more specifically his hand. Though the dull ache from his wounds remained, it was minor.

Sothis floated forward, her smaller hands encircling the flames on his hand. Her ghostly vestige glowed, a luminescence that flowed into Byleth's fiery hand. Right before his eyes, the flames were transformed into light, gentle, warm light that carried a wondrous effect. The dull aching in his hand began to simmer down. Byleth's eyes widened, then widened further as Sothis reached out and beckoned over his left hand over. It took became filled with light. At her behest, she positioned his left hand over his right; the light grew brighter, though not exactly hotter.

Minutes passed, and eventually the light died down. Once it did, Byleth flexed his hand. Surprise illuminated his face as he brought his hand up to expect it. "Healing magic."

Yes, I can do it, and apparently so can you, Byleth. It is not surprising considering my presence within you, is it, not to mention the magical capabilities I possess. The goddess stated with a smile.

"No, and this is also something that's going to come in handy. Real handy." The blue-haired warrior affirmed. While he was naturally thinking of his students, his mind couldn't help but turn toward himself. There were numerous times Byleth found himself wishing he could heal himself. While it may not have been a healing factor, he'd certainly take healing magic. Just like with his flame-based magic, he simply had to practice. It was a good thing tomorrow was a weekend. "Hey, Sothis?"

Yes?

"How come you know so much about plasma, and you even know where it exists in the universe? For a goddess, you're awfully smart, scientifically speaking."

Her cheeks inflated and her hands went to her hips, a look of childish irritation on her childlike face. Why must you sound so surprised? Did it perhaps ever cross your mind that I am a goddess of knowledge just as I am of life?

"Nope, it never crossed my mind."

Ooooh, Byleth!

Smirking, he threw up his hands. "This has just furthered my already deep respect for you, Sothis."

Yes, I'm sure it has. She half-heartedly spat.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry. Really. It's just, that kind of scientific knowledge isn't what I was expecting from you. You're…frankly, you're still something of an enigma to me."

Her anger quickly faded; her head dropped as an exacerbated sigh left her. "As I am to myself. When you told me of what happened and I looked through your memory, the information just…appeared in my mind. I suppose I should be grateful, yet you were injured. It feels somewhat…wrong."

"It's fine, Sothis. The truth is, I'm looking more at the benefits of this whole mess. Somewhat selfishly at that." He confessed.

Her ghostly arms crossed, a sympathetic smile on her face. You are indeed a warrior, Byleth. Every deadly adversary, a chance to challenge yourself, or a reason to push yourself to greater heights.

"Sorry if you're…uneasy about being stuck with a fight junkie like me." He offered with a sad smile.

Sothis returned it with a more upbeat one. I can think of worst hosts for my spirit to rest within. Besides, there are some battles that must be fought. There are some in dire need of a humbling, such as that Sebastian fellow. It honestly irks me that one of my gifts was bestowed upon him.

"Well, it's been a couple thousand years, there's almost always bound to be a bad apple in the bunch somewhere." Byleth offered. He wanted to believe that the original Eccles must have been…nicer than most of his descendants. "Getting his ass kicked by a bearer of the Crest of the Goddess might help bring him down to earth. Or it'll make him hate me with an even greater passion."

You have experience with these sorts of people. The green-haired goddess casually remarked. Well then, as I said, I shall look forward to your inevitable clash with Sebastian. That said, take care though, what you saw was just a fraction of his true power.

His hand caught fire again, illuminating his room. The candle light on his desk paled in comparison to the flames burning in his hand. Upon tightening his fingers into a fist, the flames grew brighter. Sothis' face was illuminated, as was Byleth's. His cobalt eyes burned with determination.

He'd face the heat of the stars, and he planned on raising himself to the level to match them when the star fell on him again.

---

10th Day of the Harpstring Moon, Late Morning…

"You can come out now, Rémy." Byleth called in a jovial tone, never once breaking his stride.

There was a chill accompanied by a short chuckle. Appearing in a literal blur came the Trickster whom Byleth had met on his first day at Garreg Mach. The redhead's own cobalt blue eyes met his own, a tiny smile on his face.

"I've gotta admit, you're much better than I expected. This is the second time you've spotted me." The stealthy knight remarked as he quickly joined Byleth. He seemed to register that he had no objection to him accompanying him on his training exorcise.

Byleth had his reasons for that. "I've ran into a couple of assassins and warriors of shadow like yourself. Like with many threats, I learned and trained myself in how to deal with them. It's came in handy a lot." He kept on looking ahead, never faltering even as he kept the conversation going. "I take it my encounter with Sebastian has already made the rounds."

"Unfortunately, yes, but it's gotten you garnered you some support. Sebastian Eccles isn't exactly well-liked here in Garreg Mach. Frankly, I don't like him too much either."

While somewhat happy to hear the news, Byleth didn't let it outwardly show on his face. Still, he did take some solace in knowing that Sebastian's behavior wasn't given widespread approval. That would have seriously changed his view of Garreg Mach and the Seiros Knighthood.

"On behalf of the knights and on Faerghus, I apologize, Byleth." He stopped and turned to the redhead.

"You're the third person to say that to me, on behalf of Faerghus." Came his neutral response.

Rémy looked down in slight shame. "We're not all like that, it's just…I don't mean to make excuses for him, but…"

"King Lambert's Death." He answered. "I heard it…had far reaching consequences, and truly energized the anti-Duscur sentiment amongst the people." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw how Rémy's fists tightened. It left him wondering if like Dimitri and Charlène, he too had a close friend or associate of Duscur heritage. Either that or he simply had a sense of decency that couldn't stand for the unjust treatment of the innocent, regardless of their nationality. Either option made him worthy of his consideration. "What can you tell me about House Eccles?"

"They too claim lineage from legend, the legendary warrior Eccles. Like the rest of the Elites, he fought alongside Elites against the Fell King. Like him, his descendants were pious, so they naturally came to serve the Western Church just as much as the Faerghus national army. Unfortunately, that opened them up to the Western Church's more…radical beliefs. Said beliefs have been passed down from generation to generation."

The image of Charlène appeared in his mind leading him to impulsively speak. "Not all generations though."

Rémy's lips formed into a slight smile. "Yes, there have been exceptions, thank the goddess. Just…not enough to change House Eccles' general views. I fear Miss Charlène won't be able to either as her older brother is next in the line of succession."

"She may not be able to change her family, but she can still try to make a difference, as she's apparently doing now."

The Trickster's smile deepened. "Quite an optimistic outlook, especially for one who isn't even one of your students."

Byleth shrugged. "Let's just say I've seen the stories of a few nobles play out in different ways. Sometimes you must break away from your family to do what you personally think is right."

"I can't help but sense that you're speaking from experience."

"I wouldn't say that you're wrong." He quipped back. A brief silence fell over the two men as they gradually moved from the urbanized landscape of the Monastery to the natural world of the forest. "Rémy, I can take care of myself."

He didn't seem surprised that Byleth had caught onto the underlying reason for his appearance, and his accompanying him. While he'd been heartened to hear of people supporting him, Byleth knew that support wasn't coming from everyone. Sebastian may have come from a different sect of the Church, but here in the Central Church he'd seen sprinkling of racism and discontent toward outsiders. While he hadn't seen anything as extreme as Sebastian's behavior, yet, he wasn't going to rule it out being present at Garreg Mach. He knew for a fact that there were some students who'd been discontent in being forced to learn of the perspectives and views of other nations. Particularly those that had attempted to invade Fόdlan.

Almyra in particular no doubt invoked strong feelings.

"I fully believe that, but…better safe than sorry. In eyes of quite a few, you're still something of an outsider." Came his level reply.

"Understandable, I haven't even been here a full month." Byleth accepted.

Rémy chuckled. "That is true, but I'd say it's fortunate you and your father arrived when you did. Practically right at the start of the year. A bit of a shame you arrived too late to celebrate Adrestia's Founding Day, but there is still Faerghus, Leicester, and certainly the Saints' holidays!"

"Saints' holidays." Byleth pondered. "Isn't there one coming up in a week or so?"

"Yes! Saint Macuil Day! The day that honors the Wise Saint whose battle strategies and magical theories helped Saint Seiros and Emperor Wilhelm win the war and restore peace to the land. It's the Wednesday after this coming Wednesday, the twenty-first month of the Harpstring Moon. By then Sebastian and the rest of the visitors from the Western Church will have left, so hopefully there won't be another incident like what you experienced yesterday."

While Rémy was understandably hoping for a peaceful holiday, Byleth's mind was elsewhere. He looked down at his hand, an inquisitive expression on his stoic face.

Being right beside him, Rémy got an easy read on it. "Is something on your mind, Byleth? Do you have plans for that day?"

"Not at the moment, it's just I've been thinking about something. Saint Macuil was the Saint skilled in magic, right? Including Black Magic." At Rémy's nod, Byleth looked back at his hand. It took him a few seconds of concentration to make the fire appear in his hand. "Thanks to my Crest's awakening, I can use magic. I've never been able to use magic before."

"Your Crest is said to be that of the goddess', so it makes sense that you've awakened an affinity for the magical arts." His lips curled into a grin. "More fitting that you seemed to possess an affinity for fire magic."

"I can't help but find it fitting." For the moment, he decided to keep silent on how he also seemed to possess some affinity for Faith Magic as well. Byleth silently wondered if he'd ever be able to tell anyone exactly where his affinities were coming from.

"Byleth, while I don't doubt your fortitude, I did hear that your right hand was rather injured. I don't believe it's best to strain it."

The bandages wrapped around his right hand gave the indication the damage was still severe. In truth, he'd say that near sixty-percent of it had been healed. Granted, that left forty-percent, and Byleth knew that remainder could cost him his arm if he pushed himself too far. Still, he couldn't fight the near burning urge to finally test out his magical capabilities.

"I suppose I really am going to be spending the remainder of the morning and afternoon with you." The Trickster remarked with another chuckle.

"How so?"

"Well, I know a little something about healing magic. I am quite good at it, even if I'm not at the level of Miss Manuela." His right hand rose. "And second, well, if you meant to test your fire, I believe I can help you with that as well."

The spring air was pushed out as a dash of winter returned, concentrating itself in the palm of Rémy's hand. Within it materialized ice, pale white frozen mist rolling off the magically generated cold energy.

Byleth's lips twitched, forming into a slight smile. "That you may, Rémy. Would you mind being my sparring partner?"

"Heh, yes, I would, Byleth."

Both young men sharing a smile, they ventured deeper into the forest, having only a little further to go before they'd find their ideal spot. Once they did, the forest would be center to a clash of fire and ice amidst the warm gale of spring.

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So, what did you all think of this chapter? Byleth had quite a bit of excitement, and most of it took place in the timespan of a single day. This chapter's focus was on Byleth and him coming into his own as a teacher, while also drawing on his aspects as a traveling warrior. It took me some time to get that opening scene with him, Manuela, and Hanneman right, but I liked to think I eventually got it down. The point of it was to lead up to Byleth giving a lecture to all three classes. I've got a few more of those planned. As best I can, I'm also making up some inner workings of the Officers Academy as I go along. It's not unheard of all three houses to come together for a type of joint lesson, especially since it means one teacher can focus on their specialty and pass along their knowledge to all the students.

Pretty sure it was rather obvious, the Almyran Shot discussed this chapter is indeed based on the real-world Parthian Shot tactic used by the Parthians. Almyra seems to take inspiration from it, Persia, and ancient Iran (with a dash of the Mongols), so I'm using some of those cultures' histories and aspects to fill in the still rather large blank slate that is Almyra. Since it's been stated Almyra looks at battle in a different way, I wanted to show more of the friction that comes with the two cultures meeting, in this case in a classroom. That led me to the next big scene in this chapter-Byleth's confrontation with Sebastian Eccles.

Originally, he was just supposed to go after Byleth over him choosing to teach foreign material in class, but I had a bit more interesting ideas in the leadup to writing this chapter. Nothing like good 'ole family drama and a dash of forbidden romance, huh?

Sebastian Eccles is one of the named and defined characters that'll be filling out the Western Church's ranks. They're an antagonist faction, but with little to no named characters, so that's another thing I'm taking a crack at. I'm hoping his introduction was pretty…defining. As a little remainder, while I'm basing the Knights of Seiros OCs are the Golden Saints of Seiya, the W. Church's cast will draw inspiration from the Mariners and a few of the God Warriors from the Asgard Arc. Regarding Sebastian, it's not quite a one-to-one match, but his character's inspired by Sea Horse Baian, the first of the Mariner Generals fought during the Poseidon sage. So, that's two knights that are now gunning for Byleth, albeit for separate reasons.

Ah, using a character to give a science lesson, I think I like doing that. While Byleth is a learned man, he's no scientist, and…given the backstory presented in the game, Sothis of all people might be. Given she's an alien, it makes sense in a way, doesn't it? For those of you interested, yes, most of the universe is made up of plasma, scientist estimate 99.9% in fact. This won't be the last time Sothis drops bits of real-world scientific wisdom, and does it seemingly out of nowhere at that.

Byleth beginning his practice in the magical arts seems like a good place to stop, and a good one to pick things back up in the new year. Next chapter will see Byleth expanding his magical horizon, Rhea dealing with this chapter's fallout, and the groundwork for the Black Eagles' next mission. I feel this chapter I put Faerghus and its characters and history at the forefront, so next chapter Byleth will also be getting back to his students.

Kudos to anyone who caught the Jade Empire reference this chapter and in the last one! These two were meant to form a pair with each other with some slight influences from the games' two paths.

This year has been…pretty good all things considered. I'd like to take the time to thank you all for supporting this story, and I look forward to continuing it into the new year, and I hope you all will continue to enjoy it as well! See you all in 2023!