"Hey, Teach!"

Byleth knew that voice. It wasn't morning, in fact, that was one of the main reasons he decided to leave the gates of Garreg Mach, none of the students should be doing their morning runs. All was supposed to be still and quiet.

Over the past several days, he had tried various locations, not that he was avoiding any of his students, but rather the quieter it seemed the harder Byleth could concentrate on speaking with Sothis. Perhaps, it had merely been too loud for him to hear her faint voice… at least that's what he told himself as he wouldn't let his mind wander to the possibility that she was truly gone.

"What are you up to?" Claude strutted behind the professor, who sat firmly in the dirt with his arms wrapped around his knees.

"Teaching," Byleth thoughtlessly blurted out. He immediately regretted the amount of hostility that seeped through his voice, though it should have seemed obvious to the class leader that he was not engaging in any activities whatsoever.

"Wh-who are you teaching?" Claude lowered himself to the ground next to Byleth, his face was scrunched in confusion.

"I'm just sitting here, Claude," Byleth sighed as he elaborated. "What can I do for you?"

"Well," Claude let an disingenuous smile form on his face, "you have to admit, when you returned to Garreg Mach, there wasn't a single person who wasn't interested in your new… appearance."

"Mm," the professor was unsure of what to say. It was true since they returned, he had been treated differently. Rhea had gone as far as to crown him the Enlightened One, a nickname that had quickly spread through the monastery and one he wasn't particularly fond of. Without Sothis's voice ringing in his head, he felt anything but enlightened.

It seemed only his students had refrained from treating him as if he sat upon a gold pedestal, but again, he wasn't sure if inwardly they had also felt uncomfortable with him. The only one who he felt saw him for himself was…

"So I thought I'd be the first to be brave enough to say something," Claude interrupted his thoughts. "So what does it mean to be 'enlightened?'"

"It's lonely," again, he spoke out of character without pondering his response first. There was a hole in his chest that felt like an inescapable, growing void without Sothis there.

"Do you know things?" Claude prodded. "Like, can you see the future? Is there some grand design at play?"

The future? Byleth stopped himself from scoffing. He wouldn't exactly call it the future, every time he turned back the hands of time, it felt more like a different life, not a different time, "I can't tell you what's going to happen, if that's what you're asking."

It wasn't a lie, but it also wasn't completely truthful. He hadn't tried turning back the hands of time since he and Sothis merged, but he had a feeling he still could. However, Byleth was in no mood to become a sideshow freak.

"Hmm," Claude sucked his teeth. "What good is being enlightened without any of the things they promise in the teachings of Sothis, huh?"

Byleth nodded his head slowly, "I don't know what to tell you."

"You have to admit," Claude's smile grew wider, but it was forced. "It's odd that you've never known any of these things about yourself. The Sword of the Creator, no crest stone, the Crest of Flames, being favored by the goddess, herself."

"My father wasn't one to live in the past," Byleth muttered. He was growing more uncomfortable with the Golden Deer leader's choice of topics, it felt more like an interrogation rather than a conversation.

"But you can't deny that you've certainly proven yourself to be special," Claude tightened his lips. "I guess the one question that you can answer is: how do you intend to use your new influence? Whether you're able to display any of the miraculous gifts that were supposed to come by being touched or not, you now possess a plethora of influence that I'm not sure many noble houses in Garreg Mach can boast of themselves. No matter how 'noble' they believe they are."

"And what would you have me do with this newfound influence?" Byleth felt himself beginning to withdraw. He may be a professor now, but he was a mercenary first, he sensed an agenda when it slapped him in the face.

"Me?" Claude feigned surprise with a light laugh. "Well, I've always been fond of tearing down borders. Imagine, a world where we're no longer in 'classes' or looked down upon because we happen to be from a land that's under vassalage from a greater Kingdom or Empire."

"Both sides of time shall be revealed to you, and to you alone."

Byleth closed his eyes as he recalled Sothis's words. He only wished he could hear it in realtime and not in a memory.

Claude's vision was a noble dream, indeed. But Byleth had already made up his mind on where his loyalties were, but he allowed himself to imagine for a moment if not only they could restructure the crest-centered social statuses, but do away with discrimination alltogether.

However, Byleth wasn't naive. Claude was attempting to imprint his agenda onto him, planting seeds as they might say. After all, he was the next in line to lead the Leicester Alliance. Though his relationship was nowhere near the intensity of his and Edelgard's, he felt emboldened enough to advocate for his territory's best interests.

Intensity… Byleth caught his own word he used to describe his feelings with El. Why that word? It was true since he arrived at the monastery he had felt many things he never had the pleasure of feeling before. But any other description seemed to do their relationship injustice.

Of course, these thoughts also led Byleth to think of Dimitri. The most prominent leaders-to-be from future territory kings, emperors and dukes, and even the head of the Church of Seiros were coming out of the woodwork to ensure Byleth understood what would be their best agendas, and he knew Dimitri was no exception.

"And Dimitri?" Byleth decided to play Claude's game. He knew it was only a matter of time and he wanted to know what to expect. "What would the Kingdom of Faerghus do with such influence?"

"Who am I to say?" Claude threw his hands into the air. "But you know Dimitri. Justice, righting past wrongs, take your pick. But it seems you've grown wise to my subtext, teach."

Byleth moistened his lips as he awaited Claude's next words.

"You know that with great power comes great responsibility," the young class leader continued. "I know you're their professor and all so it makes sense that you're closer to them than anyone else, but what does Edelgard want from all of this?"

"She hasn't asked anything of me," Byleth wasn't lying. It was true that she possessed more secrets than most people he'd met in his life, but throughout each of their conversations she had never explicitly asked him to help her, or to join her cause. Though he couldn't explain his decision, he had willingly offered his assistance and support to her.

"Truly?" Claude furrowed his brows. "I would think the imperial princess would've been most interested in all."

"Perhaps, you don't know her like you think you do," Byleth grew defensive.

"Whoa, teach," Claude grinned and extended his palms outward toward him. "White flag. I'm not attacking anyone, especially your sweetheart. All I'm saying is there can be such a thing as more than one good cause."

"And yours is to blind all the lands?" Byleth tried not to dwell on Claude's informal address of Edelgard's status to him. He didn't want to further any gossip that might float around the monastery.

"Well, not physically, of course," Claude chuckled. "But when it comes to prejudice, absolutely."

"That's quite the mission to undertake," Byleth's tone grew low. It wasn't that he didn't sympathize with Claude's ideals, in fact, he would've preferred a world where he didn't have to grow up known as the Ashen Demon. But in Byleth's internal list of priorities, saving two lives topped the list.

"Perhaps, alone," Claude took a deep breath in through his nostrils. "I've learned sometimes the only way people will give up their biases is if they've been forced to face their ugliness."

"You intend to start a crusade?" Byleth's skepticism seeped from his words. "To show the people of Fodlan of their flaws?"

"Give me some credit, Teach," Claude gave him a firm pat on his shoulder. "There are far less bloody ways to achieve one's goals."

Byleth wasn't sure if he agreed with that sentiment. His entire life had revolved around blood. Taking lives, mending his own injuries, protecting the men in his father's company. He'd never once been able to talk down a foe into dropping his sword.

"A few Alliance house leaders will be arriving in the next week or two," Claude continued, unaware of Byleth's apprehension. "All that I ask is that you speak with them before you make any decisions."

"And what purpose would I have to speak with alliance leaders? I'm a teacher, not a lord."

"I think whether you like it or not," Claude sucked his teeth. "You've become much more than a simple teacher or just a mercenary."

Those were not the words Byleth wanted to hear. The last thing he wanted was to be exalted for his new status. It seemed to be in direct contradiction to El's views of being able to rise and fall upon one's own merits.

"Should we be expecting more nobles at Garreg Mach?" Byleth clenched his jaw. Lady Rhea had mentioned that the upcoming divine revelation was meant to serve as a symbol for all the lands, but she never mentioned he'd become a spectacle for nobles to gawk at.

"I imagine so," the young deer nodded his head. "I hear Lord Rodrigue is en route as we speak, as is Count Bergliez and his family. The ceremony itself is reserved for those few privileged enough to witness such an event, but no doubt once you emerge from the Holy Tomb, there will be many from all across the land to hear your first words."

"I've never been one for words," Byleth lifted his head, his neck began to ache from the weight of his newfound responsibilities. "I guess I take after my father in that aspect."

"That's not what I've heard," Claude chortled. "Each of the Black Eagles constantly glows about your frequent smiling, your wit and most of all, your cooking."

"I don't intend to cook for our visitors," Byleth sighed. "And I haven't found much to smile about as of late."

"Hey Claude," a familiar voice approached them. Their footsteps were quiet, he hardly noticed.

Claude turned the upper half of his body to see Shamir walking toward them. Byleth didn't need to look, he'd already learned of Shamir's subtle cues.

"I think you're due back inside," she stated coolly as she pointed her thumb behind her.

"Am I late for something?" He furrowed his brow.

"How am I supposed to know?" Shamir quipped as she adjusted her weight to her opposite leg in impatience.

Claude immediately stood and brushed his thighs and rear with his hands to free himself of the dirt that clung to his uniform, "alright, but just think about what I said, teach?"

Byleth tightened his lips and gave him a nod as the young deer began toward the gates of Garreg Mach. Shamir immediately took his place and plopped down in the dirt next to Byleth.

She didn't speak right away, instead, she draped her arm over her knee and stared into the distant horizon for several minutes. It was only one quality Byleth appreciated about Shamir, as a fellow mercenary she also knew that sometimes silence could speak volumes.

"Thanks," Byleth finally broke the silence as he leaned slightly toward her shoulder.

"Yeah," Shamir shook her head. "Figured it was about time everyone started pushing their agendas on you."

"Does that mean you didn't come to talk me out of whatever idiotic thing I'm planning?" He queried.

"No, actually," she leaned back and planted both her palms in the dirt behind her. "I think at this point it's become quite moot. That boulder's already been pushed down that hill. And I suppose it's not as if you or your princess asked for any of this."

"Why do you keep calling her that?" Byleth couldn't help but to grin.

"It's not exactly the best guarded secret in the monastery," Shamir returned his coy smile. "Besides, she is technically a princess, no?"

"I truly don't know what you speak of," Byleth blinked several times. Sometimes it seemed his peers and even his own students had some inside joke that he was left behind from.

"Only because you're not exactly… in touch with your feelings," Shamir cocked an eyebrow.

"And you are?" He rebutted.

"Not a contest," Shamir playfully shook her head. "More importantly, you realize that things just became exponentially harder for us."

"For us?" Byleth scrunched his face as he gazed into the last light that shone above the horizon. "For Edelgard, maybe. Those Who Slither in the Dark have shown they're willing to go for the artery without hesitation."

"And yourself as well," Shamir moistened her lips. "It was one of your arteries they struck first. Now that you've… been touched by the goddess, I imagine it'll only amplify their desires to get rid of you."

"I fail to see how this equates to a problem for more than just Edelgard and I," Byleth dropped his eyes.

"I swear," Shamir sighed deeply. "You're bound and determined to embarrass me, aren't you."

"Call it retribution for teaching my students to call me bad names," Byleth chuckled.

"I've never been one to hold loyalties, Byleth," Shamir grimaced, as if her words stung her tongue. "I shouldn't have to explain what that feels like since you and I have much in common. In fact, not too long before you arrived at Garreg Mach, I had thought about making my way back to Dagda for a while."

"But?" He spoke the word he knew was coming.

"But things change, I guess," she replied. "You once used the term 'friends,' shortly after Monica or Kronya, or whatever the hell her name was, paid a visit to your princess. Well, can't we just say that's not too far off?"

Normally, Byleth would've been content with that. However, over the last year of his time at Garreg Mach, he learned he enjoyed prodding and poking at Shamir. It was a small joy to watch her stomp off in embarrassment or frustration when he would push her buttons. It was probably best that Jeralt never had any more children.

"But it's a little far off, then?" Byleth tried to restrain the grin from his face.

"Hmph," Shamir rolled her eyes. "You know, one of the most appealing aspects of being a Knight of Seiros was not having to bow to nobles, and occasionally being able to teach them a lesson or two without ending up in a prison barge somewhere. But now… I've watched a mercenary much like myself ascend to something that nobles only dream of."

"I'm still me, Shamir," Byleth's chest stung a bit at her implication that he'd somehow risen above her with his latest transformation.

"I'm not doubting that," she continued. "What I'm saying is that irony can be a nasty dosage of my own medicine sometimes."

"Meaning?"

Shamir sighed heavily, as if she dreaded her next words, "meaning… I've never been one to bend my knee, but you're going to need some heavy protection now that you're… this. The greatest religious icon in our lifetimes, supposedly. I sense something big is coming and you're going to need all the help you can get."

Byleth lowered his brows as he replayed her voice in his head, trying to decipher the code between the words, "are you saying… that you want to be my retainer?"

"Never use that word," Shamir snapped, her voice quick and harsh. "But… essentially, maybe. Ugh, why is this so hard?"

"Just say what you mean," Byleth felt a headache beginning to form.

"Fine," Shamir clenched her jaws a few times as if she needed to stretch her muscles in order to say what was on her mind. "I'm saying that I'm not going to let anything happen to you, now or ever. Not because I necessarily believe that Sothis watches over us and you're her prophet. Obviously, she does-or did exist, but my feelings regarding her care of us aren't relevant. But because you're my… friend. There, happy?"

"That might not sit too well with the code of the Knights of Seiros," Byleth breathed in deeply. Her words struck him like his running sandbags. It wasn't so much that she admitted her affinity toward him, but rather felt a sense of loyalty. From what he gathered, it wasn't something she felt often, or ever.

"A lot of things don't sit well with them," Shamir clicked her tongue. "But I'm an individual, free to do as I please. I don't doubt for a second what Edelgard told us is true in its entirety. You've known things that you couldn't have possibly known. And according to her, you've sacrificed a lot to keep us safe."

"You'd do the same for me," Byleth swallowed hard.

"I guess you haven't been listening," Shamir half-heartedly berated him. "I just said that I would and intend to keep doing so. It's just… no one's been willing to risk so much of themselves for me before. Perhaps that's what led to my change of heart… but you do realize, you'd make a lousy king, right?"

"Who said anything about being king?" Byleth scoffed. The subject couldn't have been further in his mind. It was true that when the wind hit his hair just right, he'd see a few loose strands fly in front of his face and he wouldn't immediately recognize it as his own hair. But a little change in color, notwithstanding, was a far cry from being king.

"You'd be surprised what people of Fodlan would worship, not to mention you're already wearing Rhea's gold she crowned you with," Shamir elaborated. "But regardless, kings are supposed to stay safe in the confines of their thrones, let their guards and retainers do the dirty work."

"Doesn't sound much like a king to me," Byleth tried not to think of those lords, he had dealt with them far too often in his youth. They would sit upon their cushions as the Ashen Demon struck down their enemies for them.

"And that's why your students follow you," Shamir nodded. "Because you're something different. You'd risk your life and limb for them, not because there's a reward in it for you, but because you're the rare leader that commands with heart. That's why I'll follow you."

"Heart…" Byleth repeated, though it was unintentionally vocalized out loud. It seemed ironic that she could say such a thing when his own heart was as still as the rocks at their feet, and probably as cold, too.

"Edelgard told us," Shamir interrupted his thoughts. "You don't need it to beat to have a heart, or to care, Byleth. That is all I meant."

"I thought only beasts and monsters didn't have heartbeats," Byleth dropped his eyes to the ground. It wasn't a thought that had crossed his mind lately, but so much had happened in such a short period of time that his body swelled with foreign feelings and pressure that recalled a lot of old memories.

"Who told you that?" Shamir narrowed her gaze as she peered at him.

Byleth slowly shook his head, "just a man from my youth."

"Well, he's probably dead now if that's any consolation," Shamir let a morbid grin form across her face. "You're not a beast nor a monster. In fact, you may be just the opposite. You could be exactly what Fodlan and its sister lands need in order to usher in a new dawn."