Should Byleth tell Edelgard about Sothis? Tell me what you think!

Byleth jogged along his usual path with his training staff and sandbags draped over his shoulders, this time he had two weights tied to each side. It had only been a day since Manuela gave him the all-clear to leave the infirmary, but he was meant to resume his teaching responsibilities in just a few hours.

Besides, Sothis was growing antsy being cooped up for so long.

"I certainly was not!" Sothis scoffed. "You were the one that was insistent you couldn't let your body grow too weak."

"Let's just say it's for both of us," Byleth spoke aloud as he jogged. "The fresh air and exercise will do us both some good."

"I can agree to that," she beamed. "It certainly feels nice to feel the fresh air, but are you certain you're ready to teach the little ones so soon?"

"I'll be fine," he nodded.

"That's what you always say," Sothis sucked her teeth. "That doesn't make it true."

Byleth approached the end of his trail. He pivoted without stopping and started to run back the way he came. "It's true this time. You know it's only when I must turn the hands of time that drains my energy."

"But we still have a healing wound, do we not?" She hummed.

"Teaching isn't that laborious," Byleth argued.

"I swear, sometimes you are insufferable," he couldn't help but to grin at her frustration.

"Oh, do you find it amusing?" Sothis grumbled.

Byleth enjoyed his back-and-forths with her. He never had a sibling, but this was exactly how he imagined it would be.

In truth, there wasn't much that could bring him down now. Whether or not his shouldn't-exist wound was still healing, telling Edelgard the truth behind his mysterious ability made him feel light as air.

"Yes, I'm sure that was the only reason," she teased him. "Sharing your burdens."

"I don't know what you mean," Byleth was no longer amused. He quickened his pace.

"You cannot lie to me."

"I'm not lying about anything," their banter suddenly became less fun as he pouted.

"You've experienced many new feelings over the last several new moons," Sothis murmured. He could almost picture her scratching her chin. "I suppose it is possible that you don't know what to call it yet."

"Call what?" Her insinuations irritated him.

"After all, you've never felt it before," she appeared to ignore him as she spoke to herself. "I have, but it's as if it were only a distant memory."

"Sothis," Byleth tried to gain her attention. "What are you talking about?"

"The arrogant one, of course," she cooed.

"There's someone else here," Byleth slowed to a stop. He tightened his grip on the quarterstaff that rested on his shoulders.

"Now you wish to change the subject. Before you wished to hear nothing of it!"

"No, really," he answered, his eyes glued to the horizon. Byleth could barely make out several moving dots on the same beaten path as he ran on. "Never ran into anybody during my runs before."

He wasn't ignorant. He knew they were far too close to Garreg Mach for a threat to brazenly approach him in the open. An enemy would wait for cover, not gallop to him on the same road.

There were several people, closely grouped together, arguing about something. Byleth cautiously began his jog, once again. They were too far away to hear what they were saying, but their tones seemed to be that of a squabble.

"They appear to be wearing class uniforms, could it be…" Sothis trailed off. "Your class?"

"Maybe," he acknowledged. "But what would they be doing way out here?"

The closer he got, the more the people took shape. He could see long, brown hair, it appeared to be a woman, fall to the ground. Her hat flew in front of her as she angrily pushed herself from the dirt and snatched it up with a snap of her arm.

"You don't even have sandbags on your staff, Dorothea!" A male voice snarled.

It was, in fact, the Black Eagles.

"Are they attempting to follow you?" Sothis queried.

"It's a stick, okay?" Byleth could clearly make out Dorothea's voice now. "I figured I'd work up to adding weights to it. I told you I wasn't a good runner."

"You don't wear heels to go for a run," Lindhardt drew out his words, as if he might pass out.

"They're not heels, they're only three centimeter platforms," she snapped back.

"This is a lot harder than it looks," a woman with long-blonde hair adjusted the weighted rod that rested upon her shoulders. Ingrid, Byleth thought. He was still getting used to his new students' voices.

"He's coming," Ferdinand acted as if they had been caught doing something bad.

The one leading their loosely formed group turned to face him as he approached. Edelgard.

"My teacher," she stretched her shoulders backward, no doubt looking for relief. Just like him, many of them had tied sandbags to the ends of their quarterstaves and wore it behind their necks. Except for Dorothea, she had a simple staff and rested her arms over it. "We did not expect you'd already be on your way back."

"What are you guys doing out here?" Byleth lowered a brow as he came to a stop before Edelgard.

"Well," she began as she peered at her classmates, "the Black Eagles have agreed that we need to… step up our game, as they say. In short, we've decided to join you every morning before class. And after, we've added another hour of dance-sparring to our schedules."

Byleth darted his eyes across each of his students. They looked miserable, except for Petra, who always seemed to wear a grateful smile.

"It's true," Leonie's legs were quivering, but she made every attempt to hide it behind her grin. "We need to start pulling our weight around here."

"We had just assumed… that it'd be a little easier than this," Ferdinand did not want to admit he was struggling along with his classmates.

"I suppose you were right," Sothis huffed. "The arrogant roped them all in to intensify their training."

Byleth couldn't help but to smile. He had only done two laps of his usual five, but he'd more than welcome the company.

"Um, pr-professor?" Bernadetta's staff seemed to dwarf her already small stature. "How many of these laps do you usually do?"

"Five," he answered. "In total, I would guess about twelve to fourteen kilometers."

The blood drained from many of their faces, leaving pale expressions before him.

"That would usually not be such a problem," Ferdinand nervously chuckled. "Unfortunately, these weights do seem a bit problematic."

"The weights are going to increase the muscles in your legs rapidly," Byleth explained. "It'll make you quicker when you sidestep, or spin or even go for a simple run."

"Perhaps," Edelgard began, clearly struggling under the weight of her sandbags. She readjusted her quarterstaff many times, "we may start with a single lap, today?"

Byleth gave her a firm nod as he turned around and continued his run. It was the same direction he'd just come from, but he didn't mind interrupting his routine to allow the Black Eagles their full lap.

Immediately after a myriad of strained steps began to follow him, he heard noises that he had never heard them make before. There were many groans, heavy breathing, even a couple of high-pitched squeals.

"It's easier if you pass the time thinking or talking about something else," Byleth advised them. "It'll keep your mind off the aches and pains."

"Oh.. I have one…" Dorothea huffed. "Guess who… left the monastery last night… with nothing but… a bag over his shoulder?"

"I heard about that!" It seemed Annette enjoyed gossip almost as much as Dorothea. "Sir Ryler, right?"

"He's not… a 'Sir' any longer," Dorothea finished.

Byleth let himself grin. It was true that he hardly took satisfaction from others' misfortune, but in this one instance, it was well deserved.

"Professor?" Caspar swallowed hard in between his breaths. "How long do you think it'll take… before we can do this as effortlessly as you?"

"If you're serious about doing this every morning we have class," Byleth took a moment to think. "Probably a couple of weeks. But once it gets too easy, we'll have to add more sandbags."

"So that… will bring Dorothea," Leonie gulped for air, "to one on each… side."

"We're serious… my teacher" Edelgard struggled to speak without gasping, her words dripping with determination. "We're dead serious."

Byleth felt a tightness in his chest. It wasn't from pain. It was… gratitude? Edelgard somehow managed to convince the class to commit themselves to some of the hardest training known in Fodlan. And he knew she was doing it to help him. If his students became even half as efficient as himself or Shamir, he would no longer have to put his body through the strain of turning back the hands of time.

"Yes, we are!" Ferdinand maintained the outward appearance of being unbothered. But Byleth had spent too many years training his senses to be fooled. "Nobody will mess with the Black Eagles!"

"Who messes with us… now?" Caspar asked.

"You know what I mean," Ferdinand rebutted.

"Owwww," Annette groaned. "My legs… are weak."

Byleth knew she wasn't occupying her mind as she should be, "Annette, tell me something you hear."

"Hear?" Her voice cracked, "I can hear… my own heartbeat."

Byleth shook his head, "outside. Something you hear around us."

"I can hear… the wind," she answered.

"Good one," Byleth nodded, though he was certain his students couldn't see it. "The wind can carry sounds, but it can also carry odors. If you're downwind, you might catch a whiff of a campfire."

"Or a really ripe enemy," Caspar chuckled.

"Actually, Caspar," Byleth continued. "You're not too far off. Most bandits and thieves don't have easy access to baths as we do at Garreg Mach. But it's a double-edged sword, who can tell me why?"

For several moments, he could hear nothing but the heavy breathing of his class.

"Because, the enemy may be downwinded by you" Petra began, Byleth heard no hint of struggle in her voice. "That is incorrect. They could be downwind from you."

"Exactly," Byleth slowed his jogging as he heard their steps grow more uncertain. "While you may not smell like them, perfumes, fragrances, those travel just as well."

"Guess that means you'll have… to tone it down, Dorothea," Caspar laughed.

"And I guess… that means… you'll have to start… taking baths, Caspar," Dorothea's quip was met with several chuckles.

"Hey!" He whined, "I bathe just fine!"

"Alright," Byleth slowed to a stop and turned around, his students followed his lead. "We're at the end of the trail. Now we turn around and go back to Garreg Mach."

He had to give them credit, Byleth didn't hear a single complaint or groan at the thought of jogging back with their weights. "Who else can tell me what they can hear?"

Edelgard's legs still quivered beneath her, but she had been much too proud to show it. During their lecture, she reveled in the comfort of her own seat and afterwards, she struggled to keep her balance during their dance-agility exercise.

She sat at the desk in her quarters as she scribbled on her parchment, determined to finish at least one of her portraits without having to crumble it up and toss it. This time, she gave her portrait a smile. One that she'd recognize anywhere and one that she'd be seeing often lately.

Edelgard knew the commitment the Black Eagles made to intensifying their training was for her teacher's own good. The part she hadn't expected was it took very little convincing for them to agree to it. She didn't have to pull rank as house leader, nor did she have to volunteer anyone against their will, though she would have if push came to shove.

She knew she couldn't tell her classmates of the secrets she had learned. But before she had approached them, she had already made up her mind that in order to save their professor's life, Edelgard would be as firm with them as she had to be. Instead, she was met with excitement, competitive streaks and wishes to be more useful. Perhaps it wasn't just her teacher that she had underestimated.

A knock on her door.

"Lady Edelgard," Hubert called from beyond the wood that separated them, "you requested my presence."

Edelgard didn't hesitate. She took her parchment and stuffed it into the drawer of her desk and returned her quill to its inkwell. "Come in."

The door swung open and Hubert promptly closed it behind him. There was always a swift rigidity to his motions. He straightened his tall body and firmly planted his hands behind his back.

"Thank you for coming," Edelgard began as she cleared her throat. She always felt the need to be more formal in his presence.

"Of course," he simply replied.

"There is something I wished to discuss with you, however…" her words fell from her mouth. She had rehearsed this part dozens of times in the past few days. Somehow, it seemed harder now, "you must swear to keep this between us."

Hubert put his right hand across his chest and gave her a very precise bow, "as always, Lady Edelgard, I swear on my honor and my life."

"You swore an oath to me many years ago, did you not?" Edelgard only delayed the inevitable. "To faithfully serve me and follow me through the fires of hell, should it be needed?"

"Until the day that I perish," he replied coolly. "Perhaps even longer than that. I only serve your best interests."

There were those words again… her best interests. Why did it seem that everyone else knew what was in her best interest but her? Those who slither in the dark, her uncle, even Hubert.

"And do you find it in my best interest to be a mere puppet on strings that someone else controls?" Edelgard found herself averting her gaze. She believed she could trust Hubert with most things, but a matter such as this…

Hubert tilted his head, his eyes narrowed on her. "Are you speaking of-"

"You know who I speak of, Hubert," Edelgard snapped, not fond of the idea of saying their names out loud.

"Lady Edelgard," Hubert swallowed hard as he took several steps forward. His tone had changed. It was no longer monotoned, but rather full of concern, "you mustn't say such dangerous things. I could not bear it if you were to align in their crosshairs."

"I am quite the force to be reckoned with, as well," Edelgard tried to deepen her voice, as if it would make her more fierce.

"Of that, I've no doubt," he continued. "But they contain such… raw power in the likes of which I've never seen."

"They're not the only power, Hubert," she grew annoyed. Edelgard despised having to explain herself. It was her life, after all. Wasn't it?

"Certainly you don't mean the Immaculate One?" Hubert's brow lowered. "The Goddess's children? They would strike you down before you could even explain-"

"Of course not," Edelgard recalled the face she had been drawing just moments ago. "But what if there was another way?"

"What other way could there possibly be?" Hubert was clearly trying to wrap his head around her reasoning.

"They've held the von Hresvelg name under their thumbs dating back dozens of generations, maybe even more," Edelgard continued.

Hubert shook his head, "Lady Edelgard, if this about pride, you must think of the peop-"

"That's exactly who I am trying to protect," she interjected. "Have you ever thought we'd be trading one evil for another? How could that possibly benefit the people of Adrestia? Of anyone in Fodlan?"

"We already spoke about what we would do once the Goddess's children were dealt with," Hubert rebutted.

"My direction has not changed," Edelgard shook her head. "I despise what crests have done to a society who embellishes those with, and discards those without. But the price of doing it their way is just too high, Hubert."

For several awkward moments, a silence fell between them. Edelgard did not know if she had won that verbal parry, it was the most difficult subject to date, after all.

"May I ask you a question, Lady Edelgard," Hubert lowered his voice.

For a moment, she entertained the thought of telling him no. She would carry the burden of the empire on her back, but she would do it her way. Instead, she gave him a slight nod.

"Does this… change of heart have anything to do with him?"

"I don't know who you mean." But Edelgard did. She knew exactly who he meant.

"Do you love him?" Hubert asked softly.

"That's two questions, Hubert." Yes, her teacher and Hubert taught her misdirection well.

"Does he return your love?" Hubert continued.

"I'd have to know whom you speak of before I could answer that," Edelgard didn't miss a beat.

"Did he talk you into this?"

"Nobody talked me into anything," she finally gave him a direct answer. "He doesn't even know. At least, not yet."

"You intend to tell him, then?" Hubert deflated, as if he grew tired.

"I do," she simply replied.

"And you expect a favorable answer?" He inquired. Hubert lowered himself in front of the chair in which she sat and looked up at her expectantly, "an answer from him that you'd bet your life on?"

Edelgard didn't have to hesitate, she knew the answer. She took a deep breath and lifted her chin slightly higher as she tried to accentuate her assurance. "I would. I would bet my life and the future of Adrestia on it."

Hubert took an extra moment to look into her eyes as if he was looking for any doubt. He must have been satisfied as he exhaled deeply and returned to his feet.

He fell for her bluff, Edelgard could feel it. In truth, she was no closer to knowing if her teacher could forgive her participation with Those Who Slither in the Dark thus far. But it mattered not. Edelgard knew even if he would not offer his help, even if he flat out shunned her, she would still move forward. She would stand alone against the vile wretches who used the empire for their own benefit.

"My oath remains unchanged, Lady Edelgard," Hubert lowered his head. "I will stand by you, if this is the path you have chosen."

"It is, Hubert," she nodded firmly.

Another knock at her door.

Both of their heads snapped to face it. Edelgard's heart skipped a beat.

"Are you expecting anyone else?" Hubert whispered.

Edelgard shook her head as she rose to her feet. Hubert pulled a small dagger from underneath his coat and put his back against the wall near her door.

She took several steps toward the door, her breathing became strained. Solon wasn't one to knock, but life had been full of surprises lately.

Edelgard rested her hand on the doorknob before swinging it open, determined not to keep herself in suspense. "Captain Jeralt!"

Jeralt stood in the dormitory hallway and shot her a half-smile, "Lady Edelgard."

"What can I do for you?" She practically had to cram her heart back into her chest. "Would you like to come in?"

Jeralt shook his head, "this will only take a minute. But you can tell Hubert that I'm not here to assassinate anybody, so he can put his knife away."

How do they do that? Edelgard's brow scrunched tightly, she suddenly wondered if she had been more blind than she realized to the cues around her that her teacher, Shamir and now Jeralt could so deftly read.

Hubert stepped away from the wall and stood behind her. He bowed his head slightly, "Captain."

"I just came by to… well," he must have been nervous, his hand began to scratch the back of his head. "With my kid having such a close call and all… It got me thinkin', and I was going to show him something next week."

"I see," Edelgard nodded, though she failed to see what Jeralt might be hinting at.

"It's not exactly a happy memory, you see," the captain tried to explain. "And it's bound to bring him down a little… but it's important."

"Is there… anything I can do to help?" Edelgard tried to decipher his meaning but his elegance with words was more than lacking.

"Actually there is," Jeralt nodded. "Next week also happens to be my kid's birthday."

"His birthday?" Edelgard frowned, "he hadn't mentioned anything."

Jeralt chuckled, "no, he wouldn't, would he? He doesn't like to be fussed over. But I thought… maybe, it would do him some good. Y'know, getting fussed over?"

"Of course," she found herself a little upset with her teacher. He could share his wildest secrets with her, but couldn't share his birthday? "I'd be more than happy to organize something for him."

"He never liked the attention when he was younger," he continued. "But when you kids do it… I dunno, it brings out something in him."

"Something good I hope," Edelgard smiled.

"That word doesn't seem to do it justice," Jeralt shook his head. "Anyhow, I appreciate it."

He gave them a nod before he turned from her doorway and disappeared down the corridor. Edelgard closed her door as she gave herself a reminder to chastise her teacher later.

"Must we organize such a thing?" Hubert's tone returned to normal.

"Come on, Hubert, it'll be fun," Edelgard found herself relishing the idea. "With our increased training, a little festivity is in order, don't you think?"

"No."

She shot him a half-serious scowl, "what do you think we should get him?"

"A lesson plan for next week's lectures," Hubert coolly replied.

"Seriously, Hubert," Edelgard frowned. It dawned on her that she didn't know what her teacher would like. He didn't seem to care too much about material things and the only thing she knew he cherished deeply was his students. But she couldn't wrap them in a box for him to unwrap… or could she?