9th of Guardian Moon, 1178
The wind whipped through their hair and stung their faces as the mercenaries marched on, their feet crunching through fallen leaves. Some of them shivered in their thin cloaks, but they continued forward, determined to reach their destination. Byleth scanned the area with sharp eyes, following Jeralt's lead with his daughter by his side. He couldn't help but notice how Bylass had grown more comfortable around him since yesterday, much to Jeralt's disapproval as he shot Byleth's frequent icy glares. Pushing aside these thoughts, Byleth focused on the task at hand and marched on until they finally reached the looming castle gates.
The castle rose before them, its walls towering high into the sky. It was not grandiose or extravagant, but rather modest in size and design, fitting for a humble Lord. As they approached the gate, two guards stepped in front of them, demanding to see their identities. After confirming that they were indeed the mercenaries, the gate slowly creaked open and Jeralt suddenly let out a heavy breath as they entered the fortress grounds.
"Something on your mind?" Byleth suddenly asked, surprising Jeralt as he shook his head.
"Nothing, just been a while since I last saw the Lord. Can't say I'm looking forward to it."
"Did you two have some bad feud before?" Bylass chimed in with her typically blunt tone.
"No, it's not like that. Where did you get that idea from?"
Byleth raised an eyebrow and deadpanned. "You did punch a noble from Alliance last time we were there. Luckily he let it slide even though you nearly broke his nose."
"The man was being a real prick. Tried to decrease our pay after the job was done. That punch was worth every gold."
"And it cost us 200 gold," Bylass interjected with a disinterested tone. "Luckily, we had some savings to cover it. But let's try not to have a repeat of that."
"Alright, I'll take your advice this time. Just let me handle the talking and please try to behave." They agreed and made their way to the noble's office. As the door opened, they were met with an old man with gray hair who warmly welcomed them inside.
"It's been a while, Jeralt Reus Eisner," Lonato greeted with surprise. "I never thought I'd see your face again. It's an honor to meet such a legendary warrior once again."
"It's good to see you as well, Lord Lonato," Jeralt replied graciously, bowing along with Byleth and Bylass. "But please, there's no need for formalities. I'm just a humble mercenary now."
"As you wish, Captain. Are they your twin?" Lonato inquired curiously.
"She is Bylass Eisner- my daughter. And here is Byleth- the new addition to our rank. Believe it or not, they are not related to each other, my Lord."
"I see. Perhaps I will introduce you to my son later should you be interested. Anyway, let's get to business, shall we?" They nodded and Lonato began firmly.
"More than a week ago, our city was raided by a sudden increase in the number of bandits. Their efforts were soon in vain until they turned their target toward the Western Church."
"But doesn't the Church have its ownces to handle such matters?" Jeralt asked cautiously.
"There are some issues between the Central and Western Churches that I'd rather not go into detail about. Long story short, the bishop of the Western Church wants his stolen goods back without involving the archbishop, and we don't have enough soldiers to handle it ourselves." Lonato explained with a hint of disgust before recomposing himself.
"I understand now. You said there are no Knights of Seiros here?" Jeralt clarified as Lonato nodded. "Alright. Is there any other information we should know?"
"According to the priests, the bandits were last spotted somewhere in Rome. Moreover, I heard that you had the best two trackers in Fodlan so it should not be a big problem for you." Lonato glanced at the blue-haired mercenaries who were still looking at him blankly.
"We're just decent mercenaries with some skills," Byleth humbly replied. "But we promise to complete this job as you wish." They all bowed politely, prompting a small smile from Lonato.
"I'm counting on it. My men will provide more details tomorrow, so feel free to explore the city in the meantime. Until next time." They bid farewell and left the room, heading towards the inn for the time being.
"Jeralt, what should we do now?" Bylass inquired.
"I still have some paperwork to finish up and matters to discuss. You two can go ahead. I heard there's a festival happening, so enjoy it while you can."
"Got it. See you later then." Jeralt nodded and turned to Byleth. "And don't try anything funny with my daughter. I'll be keeping an eye on you." Byleth looked at him with confusion as the older man left without explanation.
"Is everything okay between you two?"
"Not sure. We went fishing together just a few days ago and everything seemed fine." Byleth shrugged and turned to Bylass. "What do you want to do now?"
"Maybe take a stroll around the city. Want to come along?" Byleth nodded and they set off.
"Sure. Lead the way."
Byleth and Bylass strolled side by side, their feet gliding over the smooth cobblestone streets of the serene city. The warm sun cast a golden glow on the quaint cottages that lined the streets, their colorful banners gently swaying in the breeze. The sweet scent of freshly baked pastries and blooming flowers enveloped them, infusing the air with a sense of enchantment. Everywhere they looked, there was a peacefulness and tranquility that seemed to radiate from every corner of the city, inviting them to take their time and soak it all in.
The early morning sun cast its warm rays over the village of Gaspard, infusing it with a lively energy. The villagers bustled about their daily routines, their faces beaming with cheerful smiles and friendly greetings. In the cobblestone streets, children could be heard laughing and playing, their carefree joy echoing through the bustling marketplace. From every corner, the sounds of life filled the air - the clanging of metal on metal as blacksmiths worked tirelessly, the rhythmic chopping of wood from carpenters' tools, and the soft rustling of fabric as tailors meticulously crafted their wares. Everything had its place in this vibrant community, perfectly arranged and presented with meticulous care.
"How do you find the city?" Bylass suddenly asked, breaking him out of his thought as he skimmed around and replied calmly.
"It's p…"
"Peaceful. A moment of tranquility that is worth cherishing." He raised an eyebrow at her, whose mouth tilted upward slightly.
"You are learning fast." Byleth nodded. "Everyone seems happy, enjoying these rare moments together with their families. To live such a simple life, it sounds beautiful, doesn't it?"
"I agree," Bylass said. "To have a normal life without all this bloodshed. But I can't complain about our current situation, especially with you in the picture." Her voice softened as he looked at her fondly.
"I'm glad you hold me in such a high regard. Speaking of which, are we still going to train later?"
"We have a big fight tomorrow, so I don't see why not. I'm counting on you, teacher." Byleth widened his eyes and stared at her. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No, nothing," he shook his head. "It's just been a while since anyone has called me that."
"Were you a scholar before?" Bylass asked curiously.
"I don't think so," Byleth replied thoughtfully. "I believe I was more of a sword instructor or had some sort of battle-related position based on the armor I wear. But I doubt I'm fit for any prestigious role like that."
"You never know," Bylass shrugged. "But it does sound interesting. Speaking of which, have you found any clues about your family?"
Byleth's expression fell as he sighed heavily. "Not even one. It feels like searching for a needle in a haystack after combing through all of Fodlan. Sometimes I even question if it's worth searching for something that may not even exist."
"But you still remember them, don't you? Sometimes, the heart holds memories that the mind cannot access. But the love you carry for them, that's something no one can deny. Wherever they are, I believe they are still waiting for you, knowing that their loved one will return one day."
"Since when did you become such an inspirational speaker?"
"Did I? Just picked up here and there from Jeralt and Lydia," Bylass replied truthfully as there was a small twitch in the corner of Byleth's mouth.
"Well, I appreciate the advice. Thank you, Bylass." Byleth said sincerely.
"By the way, your family… What were they to you?"
"I'm not entirely sure. They once called me 'Father', but it felt more like a title than who I truly was. And they didn't seem much younger than me either,"
"Were you married before?" Bylass's stoic demeanor cracked for a brief moment as she nervously asked.
"No, I don't think so. I remember discussing it with my father, but why the sudden interest in my love life now?"
"Just curious," Byleth replied bluntly. "But thanks for answering anyway." He could see a brief flash of relief on her face before a noise caught their attention, revealing a young boy with ashen hair carrying supplies.
"Are you alright?" Byleth approached the boy and checked on his fallen boxes.
"I'll manage, but thanks for asking." The boy replied gratefully, looking up at them in surprise. "I've never seen you around here. Did you just arrive recently?"
"Yes, we're new in town," Bylass explained casually. "We were hired by the local lord to deal with the bandit problem."
"Oh, I see. So, you're the ones Lord Lonato told me about. Though I didn't expect to meet you like this." Byleth and Bylass exchanged confused glances.
"And who might you be?" Bylass asked.
"I'm Ashe Ubert - adopted son of Lord Lonato. It's a pleasure to meet you." Ashe bowed politely.
"I'm Bylass Eisner and this is my companion, Byleth." Bylass nodded respectfully as Byleth did the same. "Apologies for not recognizing you sooner, Master Gaspard."
"Please, there's no need for such formality. And I hardly deserve to be called 'master'." Ashe replied modestly before continuing. "So how do you like the city so far?"
"It's lively," Byleth stated plainly. "Everyone seems busy with decorations and practicing for something big. Is there a festival coming up?"
"Yes, it's the anniversary of Saint Seiros appearing on this moon. That's why I've been helping the villagers prepare for the celebration."
"Are these supplies for the feast?" Bylass gestured towards the boxes, which Ashe confirmed with a nod. "If you'd like, we can lend a hand. We don't have anything else to do today."
"Are you sure? I don't want to intrude, especially since you're our guests." Ashe hesitated.
"Don't worry about it. Our job doesn't start until tomorrow, so we have some free time. And it's on the house, in case you were wondering." Byleth looked at her with amusement as she dropped the joke bluntly.
"If you say so, I will accept it then. Let us go now, shall we?"
Lonato shuffled the paper in front of him, his gaze flickering between it and Jeralt.
"Is there anything else you would like to know?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"For now, this is sufficient. Depending on how quickly we can find those bandits, we may finish this task in a day or two," Jeralt replied with a nod.
"And you're sure you don't need any reinforcements? We can spare a few hands without compromising our defenses," Lonato pressed.
Jeralt sighed in response. "Knowing my daughter and her friend, I don't think that's necessary, my Lord. The rumors might be exaggerated but there is an element of truth to how they could wipe out an entire stronghold on their own."
"The Ashen Demon and the Angel of Death, quite an unusual pair for members of the infamous Blade Breaker mercenary group," Lonato mused with a hint of fondness. "It's a shame you didn't introduce them when you worked for us before. Christophe would have been thrilled to meet such legendary mercenaries." His tone grew somber as he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
"He was a good kid. Of all the nobles I've met, he was one of the kindest and most friendly. I recall that his request then was also related to bandit trouble."
"Yes, it was. He always had a kind heart, perhaps too much for his own good. He was always eager to help others and took great care of our citizens. And that same kindness...it cost him everything," Lonato's voice wavered slightly before he composed himself.
"My condolences." Lonato nodded. A heavy silence hung between them until Jeralt spoke hesitantly, "Losing a family member is a pain that never truly goes away. It feels like a part of your heart will always be missing."
"You've lost someone too," Lonato stated more than questioned. When Jeralt didn't respond, he added softly, "Well then, I'll see you tomorrow. Enjoy your stay, Blade Breaker."
"And you too, my Lord," Jeralt bowed before leaving the room, leaving Lonato to his thoughts. As he watched a family laughing and playing outside, the father giving his son a piggyback ride, a ghost of a smile appeared on Lonato's face as he whispered to himself,
"Christophe, will you ever forgive me for not being there when you needed me the most?"
To say Ashe was surprised was an understatement, in fact, he was still struggling to comprehend the two new mercenaries that his adopted father had just hired. Byleth and Bylass - such strange names for such odd individuals. Despite their apparent generosity, Ashe couldn't help but notice the blank expression that never seemed to leave their faces, regardless of the situation at hand. Even in conversation, they remained passive, only responding when directly approached. Although he knew it couldn't be true, Ashe couldn't help but wonder if this was some inherited trait from their family. But Byleth and Bylass quickly dispelled that idea, clarifying that they were not twins or related in any way. As they made their way back to the inn, Ashe summoned his courage and attempted to engage them in small talk once again, hoping to kill the awkward silence that had plagued them for a while.
"So, what do you think of the preparations for the festival?"
"It's big," Byleth and Bylass replied simultaneously with monotone voices, giving him blank looks. The awkward silence returned, and Ashe nervously cleared his throat.
"And how about the food? I noticed you both seemed to enjoy it at the tavern," he said, hoping to keep the conversation going.
"It's decent. Could use a little more spice," Byleth answered calmly.
"Oh? What kind of seasoning do you like?" Ashe asked eagerly.
"I don't have a preference. I usually just mix them all until it's spicy enough. They all taste pretty similar to me," Byleth explained.
"That explains why you were banned from cooking for the mercenaries. Jeralt and the others couldn't handle your curry," Bylass chimed in bluntly, causing Byleth to shrug nonchalantly. While Ashe was still processing this new information, Byleth suddenly noticed the book on his belt.
"That's a nice-looking book. Is it your favorite?"
Ashe smiled proudly and explained, "Ah, it's quite an old book. One of the really old legends of Faerghus- the Sword of Kyphon."
"What is it about?" Byleth inquired curiously as Ashe eagerly explained.
"It's a tale of the warrior Kyphon, whose devotion and loyalty enabled his best friend Loog to become king. The image of Kyphon charging forward into the ray, ready to take any obstacle in the name of his king – the picture of a perfect knight that I aspire to be."
"And what makes these stories so fascinating?" Bylass chimed in, her gaze now also curious like Byleth's.
"Well for one thing, the knights in these stories are always gallant and brave. And they always value things like friendship, loyalty, and justice. That's the kind of knight I want to be."
"Is that why you offered to help us with our mission tomorrow?" Byleth's tone was not accusatory, but rather curious. However, Ashe couldn't shake off an uneasy feeling as he answered.
"Not exactly. I just wanted to repay the kindness shown to me by the people here over the years, especially Lord Lonato who took me in despite my past. And while I may not be as skilled as you two, I promise I won't be a burden on our mission tomorrow."
"We are not that amazing like how the rumors depict but thanks anyway. We look forward to working with you," Byleth said with a nod, echoed by Bylass.
"So, Byleth, do you have any favorite tales or series?" Ashe asked, catching him off guard. Byleth pondered for a moment before responding with a neutral tone.
"I haven't found one that really stood out to me yet, but I do enjoy action-oriented stories with themes of fate and destiny." Ashe and Bylass were surprised by his answer, with Bylass even struggling to contain her open mouth - something she rarely did.
"When did reading become a hobby of yours?" Bylass inquired.
"You never asked," Byleth replied simply, as Ashe awkwardly tried to steer the conversation back on track.
"That's interesting. Can you tell us more about it?" Byleth fell silent for a brief moment before hesitantly responding as they arrived at the inn.
"Maybe another time. Looks like this is where we part for now. I'll see you tomorrow then. It was nice meeting you, Ashe." Byleth and Bylass both bowed politely as Ashe returned the gesture.
"The pleasure was mine. Have a good evening, Byleth, Bylass." The ashen-haired boy waved goodbye and left, leaving the two alone. Bylass continued to stare at Byleth with a blank expression.
"Is everything okay?"
"Just didn't expect you to be so comfortable talking with a noble. Have you done this before?"
"Who knows? But the boy specifically asked not to treat him differently because of his status, so I don't see a problem with it. And what about you? What are your thoughts on him so far?"
"He seems like a nice kid. Ambitious, but also kind-hearted - which is rare among children of nobility. Are you sure it's okay for him to join us tomorrow?"
"I don't see why not. We're just taking care of some bandits anyway. Plus, Jeralt will be there to supervise, so no need to worry." Byleth reassured Bylass, who nodded in agreement.
"Understood. By the way, should we go training now?"
"Yes, let's go."
10th of Guardian Moon, 1178
As the first rays of sunlight trickled through the window, Byleth quickly got dressed in his mercenary outfit and made his way to the meeting spot. His captain, Jeralt, was already there with Bylass and the rest of their group, including Ashe who greeted him with a friendly wave.
After a brief discussion and preparations, Jeralt gave the order to head towards the location where the bandits had been spotted. Byleth mounted his trusty horse and set off with the others on the journey. The sun rose higher in the sky as they traveled for hours through rugged terrain and finally reached Rome where they halted at an abandoned campsite, likely left behind by the bandits.
"According to the intel, this is where they were last spotted. Let's search the area and see if we can find any clues," Jeralt said, turning to Ashe with a concerned expression. "Are you sure you want to come along on this mission?"
"Just call me Ashe, sir Jeralt. And don't worry, I'll stay in the rear and provide support with my arrows. Lord Lonato has given his approval," Ashe reassured him.
"Alright then. If anything goes wrong, run or ask my daughter or Byleth for help. Speaking of which, I'd like you to meet…"
"We meet again, Ashe." Bylass introduced herself calmly as Jeralt looked on in surprise.
"You two know each other?"
"Byleth and I ran into him yesterday while exploring the town. We offered to assist with preparations for the festival. It was quite enjoyable."
"And we also spent some time on getting to each other as well, sir Jeralt. Speaking of Byleth, where is he now?" Ashe asked.
"Is there anything you need from me?" Byleth suddenly appeared next to Bylass, causing Jeralt and Ashe to jump in surprise while Jeralt sighed exasperatedly.
"Can you please stop doing that? One day someone will be scared to death by your sudden appearances,"
"Then they need to work on their perception if they want to survive an ambush," Byleth shrugged before greeting Ashe. "It's great to see you again, Ashe."
"And the pleasure is mine. Let's do our best today shall we?"
"I'm glad you kids get along quickly, but let's focus on our mission now," Jeralt interjected. He turned to Byleth and asked, "Have you found anything yet?"
"Yes, I found some footprints heading west from this camp. There are also some remaining tracks, so it's safe to assume that's where the bandits went," Byleth reported confidently, earning a nod from Jeralt.
"Let's move out then. I'm leaving Ashe in your capable hands. Just make sure he stays safe." Byleth and Bylass nodded as Jeralt gathered the mercenaries and set off to track the trail.
With each step, the mercenary's boots grew heavier and their breaths more labored. Byleth and Bylass were the only ones who remained composed, scanning the surrounding forest with trained eyes. Suddenly, Byleth crouched down and signaled for Bylass to stay put. She watched as he silently crept ahead, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Minutes passed and the rest of the group grew restless until Byleth returned and gave a subtle nod to Bylass who returned the gesture.
"Did you find something?" Jeralt asked.
"Yes, the bandits are now located in a cave. There are two guards outside of the cave so Bylass and I will deal with them."
"Agreed. Let's approach slowly and try to remain undetected as we can." They all nodded, and the blue-haired mercenaries left without haste while the rest followed them quietly, waiting from afar until the right moment.
As they approached, the bandits exchanged lazy banter, unaware of the impending storm about to descend upon them. The air was thick with tension and anticipation as Byleth and Bylass poised themselves for action. With a subtle signal from Byleth, the pair sprang into motion with swift and coordinated movements. Like a whirlwind, Bylass darted forward with her blade gleaming like lightning as she struck her targets with deadly precision. The first bandit fell to the ground with a startled cry, his life cut short by Bylass's skilled strike.
Meanwhile, Byleth moved with graceful agility, his every movement calculated and precise. He disarmed the second bandit in a seamless motion before he even had a chance to react. With a single, decisive blow, he rendered the brigand incapacitated with a display of martial prowess that left onlookers in awe. With a nod of approval, Byleth and Bylass exchanged a brief glance before signaling for Jeralt and the others to follow their lead.
The air was heavy with a sense of anticipation, the kind that prickles the skin and sends shivers down the spine. It mingled with the damp earthy scent of the forest floor and the faint echo of distant water droplets. With each step carefully placed, they ventured into the unknown, weapons at the ready and senses heightened. Byleth's sharp eyes scanned their surroundings, searching for any signs of danger. Ashe walked beside him, his bow held tightly in his determined grip, prepared to fight at a moment's notice. Bylass strode calmly next to them, her expression betraying no emotion as she too scanned for potential threats. Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught Byleth's eye, and he tensed, ready for battle. Emerging from the shadows came a group of bandits, their twisted faces contorted into sneers of malice and their weapons glinting dangerously in the dim light.
"They've discovered us. Prepare for battle immediately!" Jeralt roars, his hand clenching tightly around his lance.
"Jeralt, what about the stolen goods?" Bylass asked, her foot connecting with a bandit's face as he charged toward her.
"We have no choice but to eliminate these ruffians first. Ashe, cover us from behind with your arrows." Ashe nodded and shot at a bandit creeping behind Jeralt.
The clashing of steel rang out in the dim light as Byleth and Bylass sprang into action, their blades moving in a deadly dance against the enemy. Bylass expertly threw one of her daggers at a ruffian's leg, causing him to stumble and fall, while she parried another attack with ease. Byleth was like a whirlwind on the right flank, swiftly dispatching a stunned bandit and stabbing another who had tried to sneak up behind him. He swung his bloodied blade with precision and grace, selecting his next target and continuing the fight.
In the midst of it all, an arrow suddenly flew from behind Byleth and hit one of the approaching ruffians directly in the eye, taking him down instantly. Byleth turned to see Ashe giving him a nod before returning to his own battle. With Jeralt calmly parrying attacks and the other mercenaries holding off the bandits, things were looking good for their side. But as more blood was spilled, Byleth's mind began to grow distracted, and his movements became more sluggish.
Byleth's thoughts raced as he surveyed the carnage before him. How many times had he found himself in this same position, surrounded by bodies and drenched in blood? It was a never-ending cycle, one that plagued humans with its unrelenting violence. But why? Why were they destined for this path of destruction? And more troublingly, why did some take pleasure in causing pain and suffering to others without any remorse? These bandits, surely, deserved death for their heinous acts against the innocent. But Byleth couldn't help but wonder- was he any better than them? A monster, with a heart as cold and unfeeling as steel, never batting an eye at his countless victims left behind in a river of blood.
Past. Childhood. Identity. The fundamental elements that form the core of every person, no matter their status or station in life. But for him, they were elusive, intangible. Memories were like wisps of smoke, constantly slipping through his fingers as he struggled to grasp onto them. For all he knew, he could have been a mercenary, cold and ruthless, taking lives without question or remorse. Or perhaps he was born with this stoic façade, an outsider rejected by society and cursed by fate to never truly belong. Yet despite these doubts and uncertainties, deep within his heart, Byleth knew one thing for certain: he was Byleth, the beloved son of two devoted parents who cherished him above all else. And he was a mentor, a leader worthy of respect and admiration. Despite any outward appearance or lingering doubts about his true identity, at his core, he was simply a human being like any other.
Suddenly his thoughts would soon be interrupted as he heard Ashe's yell from the other side. The boy barely survived the ambush as he quickly dodged and tried to hold his bow which was trembling minute by minute. Suddenly, the headache came back as his head twitched in pain. The tragic scenery came back again as he found himself back at the burning capital. Despite his attempts to regain consciousness, the scene was still there as this time he saw himself encountering another man who was aiming the bow at him. Yet even so, his hands were trembling, looking at him with guilt and regret.
"Don't look at me that way, you will throw off my aim!" Shaking his head vigorously, he tried to wake up as soon as possible but to no avail. The voice became more accusing as the man spat furiously.
"Our pride. Our people. Our king. You've torn them all apart. Haven't you had enough? What else is there for you to take?"
Byleth's heart raced as the images disappeared, bringing him back to reality and the scene of the ashen-haired boy whose life was hanging by a thread. With Jeralt and Bylass fighting their way toward him, Byleth's mind was working overtime to come up with a plan. Suddenly, an idea struck him and without hesitation, he threw his blade and kicked it with all his might, propelling it towards a bandit who let out a gut-wrenching scream before falling to the ground, the blade piercing through his heart. The shock on everyone's faces was palpable as Jeralt, Bylass, and Ashe looked upon Byleth with utter amazement. But before they could fully process what had just happened, another bandit appeared from behind Byleth, thinking it was the perfect opportunity to attack the defenseless mercenary.
However, they were met with a sight that sent shivers down their spine - Byleth had caught the blade with his bare hand. A deadly intent glinted in his eyes as he stared down the unfortunate bandit, whose hands began to tremble with fear. Despite the blood dripping from his hand, Byleth held onto the blade tightly and swiftly kicked his enemy before snatching the sword and using it to end the bandit's life with a furious rage consuming him. His eyes then turned to the others who were frozen in shock at the scene before diving back into battle with renewed determination.
As Byleth swung his blade, he transformed into a force of nature, a cyclone of lethal precision that tore through the enemy ranks with unrelenting ferocity. His movements were lightning quick and merciless, each strike finding its mark with deadly accuracy as he single-handedly shifted the course of the battle. The glint of steel flashed in the sunlight with every swing, and the ground trembled beneath his feet as he charged forward, leaving a trail of fallen foes in his wake.
As each enemy fell under Byleth's relentless attacks, the weight of his fury only seemed to grow, an unyielding tide that threatened to consume everything in its path. He fought with the ferocity of a man possessed, his muscles straining and his breath coming in ragged gasps. Yet through it all, his demeanor remained unchanged, as if carved from solid stone. His expression was stoic, impervious to the chaos and destruction surrounding him.
His eyes glowed with a fierce determination, like embers burning brightly in the darkness of the cave. The ground beneath him became slick with the blood of his enemies, but he never faltered or stumbled. Despite the violence and carnage, he remained eerily calm, his face a mask of detachment that belied the intensity raging within him. It was as if he were in another world entirely, a world where only his own rage and skill mattered.
However, when the final enemy fell and all was said and done, he snapped back to reality and was greeted by the horrific aftermath of his actions. The very same river of blood that stained his path, no matter how much he loathed it, now surrounded him. A sickening stench filled the air as he took in the carnage he had left behind. He wanted to vomit at the sight before him, to turn away from the bloodbath he had caused in a fit of rage.
But why had he been so angry? Yes, they had almost taken the life of an innocent young boy with a bright future ahead of him. But was that truly the reason for this madness? Or was it just an excuse to deny his true nature, to ignore the fact that deep down, he was nothing, but a savage monster driven by a thirst for blood and violence?
The air was suddenly thick with tension, the silence almost tangible as all eyes turned to him. The mercenaries, clad in armor and weapons at the ready, looked on with skeptical expressions, most likely fearing the bloody display that was about to unfold. Ashe, his trusted companion, wore a look of concern mixed with fear, his body trembling slightly. And then there were Jeralt and Bylass, slowly making their way towards him with cautious steps. Jeralt's face displayed genuine concern, while Bylass' expression was one of careful observation. The atmosphere was heavy and charged with a mix of emotions - fear, worry, curiosity - all focused on him as he stood there, waiting for what would come next.
"Are you okay, Byleth?" Jeralt sheathed his sword and asked with concern.
"I'm fine," Byleth replied in a monotone voice, not meeting anyone's gaze. "Let's just retrieve the goods and report back to Lord Lonato." His mind was still reeling from the ambush and he couldn't shake off the guilt of not being able to protect Ashe earlier.
"Don't blame yourself, Byleth. You saved me," Ashe reassured him as he bowed apologetically. Despite her usual stoic expression, he could see something else in her eyes - curiosity, worry, and perhaps even pain.
"Your hand..." She pointed at the bleeding wound on his hand. "It's bleeding."
"I'm aware," Byleth replied, avoiding her disapproving gaze. "I'll tend to it once we're back." But Bylass wouldn't hear it and took out a bandage to tend to his wound.
"Does it hurt?" Bylass asked softly, looking at him with concern.
Byleth stayed quiet for a moment before giving her a small nod. They didn't speak further as they left the bandit's cave and made their way back to Gaspard in silence. Byleth couldn't help but feel empty inside, unable to push away the heavy thoughts that consumed him.
After all, he was nothing but a soulless demon, wasn't he?
11th of Guardian Moon, 1178
The sun had barely risen, but Bylass was already making her way out of her room at the inn, her thoughts still clouded from the mission the day before. She grabbed her cloak and headed outside, hoping the fresh morning air would clear her mind. As she passed by the neighboring room, she noticed that the door was open and the room was empty. With a hunch of where to find her friend, she headed towards the nearby river. However, he was nowhere to be seen. Frustrated but determined, she returned to the city and searched every possible location for him - from the marketplace to the bookstore. Then, an idea struck her and she made her way to the empty tavern and there he was, Byleth, sitting at one of the tables with a cup of tea in front of him. She ordered from the owner and quietly took a seat across from Byleth, who greeted her with a nod.
"Morning, Bylass." He replied calmly and she returned the gesture.
"Morning, Byleth." Neither said anything until she pointed at his bandaged hand.
"Your injury … is it alright now?"
"I think so. The apothecary said I should avoid combat for a few weeks, but I'll manage. And how was the mission?"
"It went well. Lord Lonato expressed his gratitude for wiping out the bandits and saving his son's life. And he offered us to stay and enjoy the festival which Jeralt already agreed without hesitation."
"At least this time there was not any punching." He replied dryly with amusement in his voice. "But I won't be the one cleaning up the mess should he start drinking again." Bylass shrugged and sipped her mug which just arrived.
"Don't worry. There is a river nearby so a dip in the water should solve it if Jeralt's presence is required again."
"Can imagine how Jeralt will be displeased if we do that again, but you had a point." He sipped another one as neither said anything again. Until Bylass slowly began.
"Byleth, did something happen?" His eyes lit up in surprise at the question.
"Guess you are learning fast then. How did you figure it out by the way?" He let out a small sigh and inquired curiously.
"Your movements were sluggish at the beginning as if something had been on your mind. And lastly, your eyes, they were conflicted, hurt, and doubting." She replied quietly. "Just like mine a long time ago." A silence followed them until Byleth's mouth began to move; his voice was getting heavier.
"Bylass, have you ever wondered why we were the only ones suffering this fate- to be born with an emotionless façade?"
"I have," she replied softly, her eyes filled with sorrow. "But the feelings still remain, don't they? The joy, the grief, and the weariness of all the senseless bloodshed."
"Yes, because no matter what powers we may possess, at the end of the day, we are just human. But sometimes, I fear that these deaths will no longer affect me. That I'll feel nothing despite the horror right in front of my eyes."
"Nothing?" Bylass's brow furrowed in confusion. "But I thought..."
"That's where I start to question even myself. And what terrifies me most is that it might already have happened before. That emptiness when I witnessed a child crying in front of a burning house. The hollow inside me when my enemies begged for mercy. And now, all these things begin to come back, like a past that continues to haunt me. Am I truly just…"
"…a puppet- a fraction of what once was. That's all you are and will ever be!"
"I don't think so. In fact, I believe that deep down, there is still a flicker of light within you. A spark that refuses to be extinguished, no matter how much darkness tries to creep in," Bylass interrupted, her voice firm and unwavering.
"And how can you tell that?" He asked quietly.
"Because you are much more than this, Byleth. Time and time again, you have shown me the kindness and compassion that not many can have. Even though this world may believe you are nothing but a deity of death, all I see is just a kind man who is selfless and gentle despite his dry humor. And a trustworthy comrade."
"Do you truly believe that, Bylass?" He finally whispered, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
"I do, with all my heart," Bylass affirmed confidently. Their fingers barely touched but it brought a warmth unlike anything Byleth had felt before.
A flicker of hope sparked in Byleth's eyes as they sipped their cups together. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed in the tavern, signaling Jeralt's arrival. He had a hint of concern on his face as he walked toward their table.
"Morning, kid. Morning, boy. How long have you been here?"
"Just recently," Byleth explained, his voice became lighter now. "Jeralt, do you need something?"
"Nothing just wanted to check on you. How's your injury doing?"
"It should be fine. Though I'm afraid I won't be available for a few weeks according to the apothecary."
"Don't worry. Just take your rest as long as you want. And are you sure that everything is fine?" Jeralt asked carefully but to his surprise, the gloomy air from yesterday was gone as the blue-haired mercenary shrugged casually.
"Yes, I'm getting better now. And thank you for always looking out for me, Jeralt. Even when you don't have to." Jeralt smiled softly.
"It's alright. I told you to not worry about it, didn't I? Anyway, will you be joining us for the festival tonight?"
"I don't see why not. It was a good offer and we all deserve some break." Byleth sipped his tea as Jeralt nodded and glanced at Bylass who gave an approving nod.
"Great. Then let's …" Before he could finish, Byleth and Bylass interjected flatly.
"Drinking competitions are forbidden."
"That's tough. Are you sure we can't negotiate?" They continued to stare at him with a disapproving glare despite their stoic expressions. Sighing heavily, Jeralt scratched his head and finally surrendered.
"Alright, I will listen to you then. What are we going to eat now?"
Later that night
As dusk settled over the quaint city, a palpable sense of anticipation filled the air. The narrow cobblestone streets, lined with timber-framed houses adorned with colorful banners and flickering torches, resonated with the chatter of excited villagers. The aroma of roasting meats and freshly baked bread wafts through the air, mingling with the scent of pine and oak from the towering forest that surrounded the settlement. At the heart of the square, a massive bonfire crackled and roared, sending sparks spiraling into the night sky. Its warm glow casts dancing shadows on the faces of the gathered crowd, painting a scene straight from the pages of legend. Villagers of all ages, clad in vibrant attire adorned with ribbons and flowers, begin to form a circle around the flames.
Byleth leaned against the cool stone wall, savoring the quiet solitude after escaping from the raucous tavern just minutes before. As expected, Jeralt and their fellow mercenaries had already started a drinking contest, much to Byleth's disapproval. The atmosphere quickly escalated when the infamous Blade Breaker brought down his third drink and leaped onto a nearby table, eliciting cheers from the crowd. Refusing to be dragged into their antics once again, Byleth slipped away and relished the peaceful night air. That is until he heard footsteps approaching him from behind.
Lonato turned to Byleth with a friendly tone and asked, "What are your thoughts on the festival so far?"
Byleth bowed politely before replying, This is my first time at an event like this. I'm finding it quite extraordinary, Lord Lonato."
A smile tugged at the corners of Lonato's mouth as he replied, "It warms my heart to see you're enjoying yourself." His expression sobered momentarily as he added, "I also wanted to express my gratitude for your assistance with my son yesterday. Without your intervention... well, things could have taken a turn for the worse."
"I merely did what was necessary, Lord Lonato. But I must apologize if I failed to meet all of your expectations. Although everything ended up alright in the end, it could've been disastrous if I hadn't acted swiftly."
"But you were there for me when it mattered most," Ashe interjected passionately, "We can never predict how things will unfold in such situations but we came out unscathed because we gave our best shot. And watching you in action - controlling the battlefield and wielding your sword - was truly awe-inspiring! You looked fearless like a seasoned knight."
"I'm flattered by your words, but I assure you that I'm not as remarkable as you make me sound. It was an honor to work alongside you both." He bowed again eliciting friendly smiles from both father and son.
Lonato arched an eyebrow curiously at Byleth's humility, "Your prowess suggests otherwise. And that armor... were you a knight once?"
"I wish I could tell you more about myself," Byleth confessed with a sigh, "But apart from my name, my past is a blank slate."
"Amnesia, I see," Lonato nodded in understanding. "If you ever need assistance, don't hesitate to reach out. My resources may be limited but they could prove useful. And I hope you find the answers you're seeking."
"I appreciate your offer and your kindness, Lord Lonato. And thank you too, Ashe, for placing your trust in me." They exchanged nods of respect before parting ways, leaving Byleth alone until he sensed another figure approaching him - a presence he instantly recognized.
"Well, that turned out better than I expected," Bylass said with a neutral tone.
"I agree. But maybe it's for the best. How about you? Are you enjoying the festival so far?"
"I'm not sure yet. But everyone looks like they're having fun dancing around. It piques my curiosity," she responded honestly, causing him to look at her with interest.
"Do you want to give it a try?" he suggested, gesturing towards the bonfire where people were gathered.
Her eyes widened in surprise and she looked at him quizzically. "Do you know how to dance?"
"Just basic stuff. I picked it up from Lydia a while ago, but that's a story for another time. What do you say?" After a moment of hesitation, she nodded slowly as Byleth led her towards the fire, igniting those familiar butterflies in her stomach once again.
Byleth began to move with practiced grace, their steps fluid and sure. Bylass watched intently, trying to mimic their movements as best she could. At first, her steps were uncertain, her movements awkward and clumsy. Soon, she found herself stepping on his feet with each step forward and backward.
"I'm sorry." She said apologetically. He shook his head and replied gently,
"Don't worry, everyone has to start somewhere. Just follow my lead, okay?" She nodded in understanding and he continued, "When I say left, you move your left. When I say right, you move your right. Trust me to guide you." Byleth reassured before they resumed their dance, the soft melody enveloping them in the lively atmosphere.
As the lively tune began to play, its energetic beat pulsing through the air. Byleth, with his graceful movements and practiced ease, led Bylass into a simple dance. He guided her through each step, his strong hand securely holding hers as she stumbled and tripped over her own feet. But Byleth's steady presence and patient guidance never faltered, helping her find her rhythm amidst the swirling melodies and bustling crowd. As they twirled across the floor, their bodies moved in perfect harmony with the music, creating a mesmerizing display of skill and finesse.
Around the crackling bonfire they twirled, their movements fluid and graceful, as if they were one with the flames. Bylass's initial tension and unease melted away, replaced by a sense of exhilaration as she surrendered to the hypnotic rhythm of the drums and the flicker of fiery embers. The heat emanating from the fire enveloped her in a comforting embrace, drawing her deeper into the dance until she was completely lost in its trance-like state. Her body moved in perfect harmony with her partner's, their steps synchronizing effortlessly as if they had been dancing together for years. She could feel the energy coursing through her veins, fueling her every movement with vitality and joy. This was more than just a dance around a bonfire; it was a celebration of life, of connection, and unity with those around her. And as she spun beneath the starry sky, she couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment and all that it encompassed.
"That wasn't too hard, was it? I hope you enjoyed it despite my humble display."
"I did. It was interesting, entertaining, and fun." Surprisingly, a genuine smile formed on her face as she replied gently. "Are there any other talents that I need to know?"
"Is that an attempt at joke?" His eyes rolled in amusement.
"Just curious. From fishing to gardening and baking. You seem like a mercenary of talents. Guess it was a good idea to enlist you back then."
"Could not disagree with that then. Anyway, shall we continue this, my lady?" Suddenly a small smile crossed his face which surprised her for a moment before she accepted his hand with a smile that was still on her face.
"Of course, my lord."
The annual celebration of Saint Seiros Day was a sacred tradition among her devoted followers, and it held great significance for the majority of Fodlan. It commemorated the day when the guardian Seiros first spread light and hope across a land ravaged by Nemesis and his minions. But for Seiros herself, it held an even more personal significance - it marked the anniversary of her birth, the day her mother brought her into this world. Despite her mother's temporary slumber, Seiros cherished memories of a peaceful childhood spent with her fellow brethren. However, all that changed one fateful day...
The news of her mother's brutal death at the hands of a common thief quickly spread like wildfire among the Nabatean people. Grief and rage coursed through their veins, demanding swift retaliation against humankind for this heinous act. As for Seiros, she was left shattered by the tragic news, torn between feelings of devastation and conflicting thoughts on what she should have done differently. Her mother had always instilled in her the belief that despite humanity's flaws, they were still worthy of love and compassion. But now, faced with this ultimate betrayal, Seiros couldn't help but question if her mother's teachings were truly worth following. Despite her doubts, she vowed to honor her mother's last wish and remain loyal to humanity. Little did she know, this decision would ultimately lead to her downfall, a mistake that would haunt her for the rest of her days.
The memory was etched into her mind like a scar, the day that thief had dared to return to Zanado with the Blade crafted from her mother's remains. The anger of the Nabateans rose like a storm, their shouts and battle cries drowning out the sound of approaching footsteps. But all their efforts were for naught as the thief unleashed a firestorm from his Sword, reducing them all to charred ashes in mere moments. Despite her protests, her brothers insisted on staying to fight while she gathered the children and women, desperate to save as many lives as possible. As they fled through the streets, she could feel the heat of the flames licking at their heels, a constant reminder of the danger that followed. And in that moment, she realized her second mistake.
As they finally reached the other gate of the city, instead of a clear path to freedom, they were met with a barrier that had been swiftly erected around them. The citizens of Zanado were trapped inside, frantically trying to escape. Seiros and her sisters realized there was no way out and quickly urged the children to find a hiding place. With grim determination, they took up their weapons and joined their husbands and brothers in battle against the merciless Nemesis. Even in their powerful dragon forms, they were no match for the Sword of the Creator and its wielder, bearing the Crest of Flames. Seiros watched in horror as her comrades fell one by one. Her screams were drowned out by the chaos and violence surrounding her. In a final desperate attempt, she lunged towards Nemesis, only to be brutally kicked to the ground. As she lay there, gasping for breath and staring up at the menacing figure before her, she growled and tried to stand up but to no avail. But before he could deliver a fatal blow, she heard the sound of steel on steel and turned to see another man with silver hair clad in black armor.
"What is the meaning of this?" Nemesis growled and the silver-haired man stared at him with an emotionless face.
"The Burning One's orders are clear- she must live to atone for her sins. I'm simply here to deliver his messages." His voice was monotone and cold, sending shivers down her spine. How dare he speak of atonement? She had done nothing wrong to these worthless humans who continuously betrayed and sought to harm her mother.
"Tough talk for a mere messenger. You may fancy yourself godhood, but in my eyes, you are nothing more than a puppet- a tool wielded by our Master."
"Say what you will, but do not forget who bestowed upon you such power, Nemesis. Displease him and you will face dire consequences. And remember- it is my duty to deal with insolent fools who refuse to learn their place." His words were like ice, piercing through Nemesis' anger and causing him to eye the messenger warily before storming away with a scoff.
"As you wish, my "Lord"!" Nemesis left with a smirk, leaving the silver-haired man standing motionless. He turned back towards Seiros, his golden eyes void of emotion as he stared at her enraged ones, almost taunting her.
"What are you looking at, you worthless human?" She roared in fury. "Do your worst and kill me now, for I swear on all that is holy that every single one of you will pay for this as long as there is breath in my body. For I am Seiros- first child of Sothis and the will of the Goddess." The man remained stoic until he suddenly stepped forward and plunged his sword into her stomach.
"Who are you calling worthless, foul creature?" His tone changed to one of rage as he wiped the blood from his blade. He turned away from her and began to slowly walk to her left, much to her confusion.
"In the beginning, amid the great cloudless ocean, Fódlan came to be. At the end of a long journey, the goddess glimpsed that land and there alighted. Upon that sacred ground, she breathed life into the world and created all of the creatures upon it." A look of confusion crossed her face despite her injury.
"By the goddess's hand, plants took root, birds took to the sky, and animals roamed the land. Last of all, she created humanity. When the humans wished for power, she granted it. She gifted them the blessings of the heavens and of the earth. By way of the magical arts, humanity attained great power, yet unaware that great power portends great evil." The man continued his monologue then suddenly he stopped walking and looked at the sky with an incredulous look.
"By the grace of the goddess's divine protection, humanity thrived. Through her blessings, they grew prosperous, and their numbers rose. Before long they became the most powerful creatures in all of Fódlan." His fists clenched as he spat out bitterly. "Or so your kind has been told - a lie perpetuated by a wretched deceiver who called herself Goddess."
"Take my mother's name out of your arrogant mouth, you filth. I don't know who you are, but you will pay for your blasphemy against the Goddess." Seiros roared and transformed into her dragon form once again. "Begone, servant of Nemesis." She bellowed, releasing a wave of fire that surrounded him. Yet when the flames died down, he had disappeared without a trace. Panic and confusion flooded through Seiros until she caught sight of another figure flying towards her- one with an emotionless face and a chilling aura.
"Servant of Nemesis? Don't be mistaken, Seiros." He spoke, his voice was cold as ice. "From the celestial realms do I descend, entrusted with the sacred duty to deliver unto you the edicts of the heavens above. I am the harbinger of truth, the emissary of destiny, and bearer of the divine will himself." As he spoke, a black wing materialized behind him and feathers rained down from the sky, while his blade glinted in the light.
"And Angel of Death!"
