Byleth didn't stop for anything as she hurriedly walked back through the main doors into the interior of the Monastery. Her mind was racing, and her grip on the Sword of the Creator tightened as she ignored passing students and faculty while heading straight for her dorm room. After what felt like an extensive amount of walking, she finally reached her destination, entered, and swiftly shut and locked the door behind her.

As she turned around, Byleth's eyes immediately fell on Sothis, who had reappeared and was now sitting on the bed, curled up tightly against the wall with her arms wrapped around her knees. The small girl was trembling uncontrollably, her head buried in her arms. And for the first time, Sothis looked like a frightened child, despite usually acting like an old woman, belying her youthful appearance.

At first, she was dumbfounded by the sight of Sothis looking so vulnerable. The girl, who usually exuded so much confidence, now appeared utterly shaken. Unsure of what else to do, Byleth decided to come right out and ask, "Sothis, what happened back there?"

Sothis didn't lift her head. Instead, she snapped, her voice shaky and strained. "J-just… give me a moment!"

Byleth stood still, watching as Sothis trembled and breathed heavily, clearly trying to regain her composure. After several long moments of tense silence, the small girl finally lifted her head and spoke, her voice soft and haunted. "The brigand… when he looked at me, he saw me- he looked directly into my eyes. And in that instant, I began seeing things…" Sothis shuddered again, hugging her knees tighter. "It was… it was absolute carnage. Pure, wanton death and destruction. So many- so many lives snuffed out before my very eyes, killed in so many ways that I can't even-!"

If anyone besides Byleth could hear the girl, there was no doubt that someone could've heard her as she reached up and pulled down on her own pigtails as she yelled. "WHAT IS GOING ON? WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME? WHY CAN'T I REMEMBER ANYTHING?!" before once again burying her face back into her knees.

Sothis's voice cracked as she began to cry, her small body shaking with each sob. Byleth stood frozen, utterly stumped by what she'd just witnessed. Never before has her incorporeal companion acted in such a way before, and soon the professor realized that she needed to do a little more than stand by the wayside and allow Sothis to continue through with the emotional breakdown she was now having all by herself. Slowly, she made her way over to the bed, and without a word, Byleth sat down beside the young girl. She didn't reach out or say anything. Instead, she simply sat there, sharing the space with Sothis.

Eventually, Sothis does manage to rein herself in as she raises her head again and sniffles. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, and upon seeing the former mercenary staring at her with her usual deadpan, yet concerned expression, Sothis quickly straightened up. Her face flushed with embarrassment as she stubbornly tried to regain her composure while trying to force herself back into her usual demeanor. "I-I'm fine now," she muttered, her voice shaky but determined to show no more weakness. "You don't need to look at me like that."

Byleth simply nodded in acknowledgment, not saying a word. The two of them sat side-by-side on the bed against the wall, staring quietly at the other side of the room. The silence stretched on, with only the faint sounds of the Monastery happening outside their door. The small girl fidgeted slightly, her eyes occasionally darting to the floor, then back up again, as if searching for the right words but not quite able to form them.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Sothis said quietly, "Those visions that I saw… I couldn't recognize any of them." Hearing this prompted Byleth to turn her head to look at her smaller friend. The girl however acted as though she didn't notice this, still staring across the room as she continued. "It was unlike anything that I was familiar with here in Fodlan. The landscapes were strange- with massive temples and cities that put everything we've seen here to shame. But I also saw…" She shuddered. "I saw both men and monsters beyond even my own comprehension. I… I could see someone killing them, almost like I was seeing it through their own eyes."

Sothis hugged her knees tighter. "I couldn't make it out at first, but there was so much rage behind the ways they were killed. And the blood- so much blood, and ash everywhere-" Her eyes suddenly widened as a thought struck her, her gaze snapping toward Byleth. "Ash and blood."

Byleth, still watching her closely, raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Sothis swallowed, her voice shaky as she continued. "The stench… the one I could smell around the brigand that I couldn't make out before." She shook her head despairingly. "I understand now."

"Understand what exactly?" The mercenary asked her.

She turned to Byleth, her expression tense and petrified. "You need to stay away from him. As far as you can, and as often as you are able."

"But why, Sothis?" Her corporeal friend pressed, with a rare look of apprehension. "Are you saying that…?"

"I- I can't say anything for certain," Sothis admitted, shaking her head. "But trust me, what I can tell you is that while he may be a friend to you and everyone else, I can almost guarantee you that he is not a friend of mine- or anyone else like me."

Without even bothering to wait for a reply, Sothis vanished once again in a flash of green. And while Byleth was still uncertain about exactly what it was that happened in her confrontation with Kratos earlier, she knew better than to take the girl's warning lightly as she looked down at the Sword of the Creator strapped to her side, and let out an audible sigh.

x-x-x

Not much time had passed before Kratos returned to the monastery, marching through the large wooden doors leading into the fortress's interior. Originally, his intention had been to find Mimir so that the Spartan could share what he'd experienced in his confrontation with the mercenary, but he stopped in his tracks when Dimitri's familiar blonde hair caught his eye. He saw the prince speaking to a grown man he did not recognize, but the unmistakable blue hair- matching Felix's perfectly- piqued his curiosity, and Kratos decided to approach the conversing duo.

Dimitri had been talking excitedly to the man when the boy noticed Kratos approaching from behind, and his face lit up even more as he cut what he was saying short and waved at the Spartan. "Oh, Professor Kratos!"

The man turned around at Dimitri's greeting, his expression shifting from curiosity to mild surprise as he took in the imposing figure of the Spartan approaching them. Kratos stopped just in front of them, his gaze shifting briefly between Dimitri and the man.

Dimitri, clearly eager, gestured between the two. "Professor Kratos, I'd like to introduce you to Lord Rodrigue Fraldarius, an old friend of my father's." He then turned to the man he was just speaking to. "Rodrigue, this is Professor Kratos. He is the one who's been guiding us in our training."

Rodrigue regarded Kratos with an appraising look before offering a nod of respect. "So, you are the one His Highness speaks so highly of. I must say, your reputation precedes you, though I hadn't expected to meet such a figure here at the Officers Academy."

Kratos returned the nod with his own, followed by a grunt of acknowledgement, but said nothing in return.

"I'm sorry for not having mentioned him before, Professor," said Dimitri, "But Rodrigue was the one who took me in four years ago after my father had died. He looked after me as though I were his own son."

Kratos' hardened features softened slightly at Dimitri's words, and he shifted his gaze back to Rodrigue. "Is that so?" He said with a profound sense of newfound respect toward the other man.

Rodrigue couldn't help but laugh in good faith at the prince's words. "You flatter, Your Highness. It was my honor to care for such a fine, young man." Then to Kratos again. "In any case, it's nice to finally meet you, Professor Kratos. My son, Felix, has mentioned you on occasion in his letters. I hope that he isn't causing you any headaches as of late."

"Your son is a fine student." The Spartan reassured him, though his voice was laced with reservation. "However, his… behavior leaves much to be desired."

"Oh, I would not doubt it." Rodrigue chuckled, shaking his head. "I apologize for any problems he may have caused, but I assure you that he's a good kid at heart. Besides, nothing a little tempering wouldn't fix, wouldn't you say?"

Again, the Ghost of Sparta grunted and said nothing back.

"By the way, Rodrigue," Dimitri asked the lord. "What brings you to the monastery? Is it the thieves plaguing the Kingdom?"

"I'm afraid so. This is not merely a problem for House Gautier, but for everyone. The thieves have set up their headquarters in Fraldarius territory, and are mercilessly pillaging the villages of that area."

Hearing this caused Kratos to scowl deeply as he said, "Why hasn't the Kingdom dealt with this problem already? You are the proprietor of the lands that these bandits occupy, are you not? Why do you wait for the Church to send the children out to handle it?"

Though the questions were scathing- and in some cases, accusatory- Rodrigue did not take offense to this, and instead let out a deep and heavy sigh while crossing his arms. "You are correct, Professor. It is my obligation to deal with the bandits, and I would much prefer to handle this matter myself." He paused, his voice tinged with frustration. "However, Lord Matthias has demanded that his son, Sylvain, be the one to lead the expedition to eradicate them from their base. The Church has agreed to this, and so, here we are."

Kratos' scowl deepened, but Rodrigue continued, explaining further, "Believe me, Professor, if it were solely up to me, I would ignore these politics and clear out the bandits myself. But..." His face grew more solemn. "My relationship with Matthias is already strained, and pushing the issue further would only make matters worse. The other lords are watching closely, especially in the wake of Lonato's attempted rebellion. Because of this, any further deterioration could have dire consequences for the Kingdom." His gaze shifted between Kratos and Dimitri as he finished. "Regardless, I will support you all in any way I can. While I'm here, I will ensure the company you and your students will command is more than ready for this mission."

"Thank you, Rodrigue," Dimitri said appreciatively. "No matter what happens, we'll be sure to retrieve the Relic and bring Miklan to justice." He then addressed both men. "Now then, Professor, Rodrigue, I still have many obligations to fulfill, so with your leave, I should be going."

The blue-haired lord nodded with a smile. "Of course, Your Highness."

With that, the prince didn't wait for a response from Kratos as he turned and started down the grand hallway. For a moment, both men watched as he disappeared from sight. Rodrigue then returned his attention to the ashen warrior, his smile fading and replaced with a serious, somewhat troubled expression.

"Professor Kratos," he began, "If you are not too busy, might I have a moment of your time?"

Kratos remained silent, his gaze narrowing slightly as he studied Rodrigue. The weight behind the lord's words suggested something of importance. Without a word, he glanced once more down the hallway where Dimitri had disappeared, then back to Rodrigue.

"Very well," Kratos replied, his voice low and measured. "Speak."

"It's been two years since I last saw His Highness," he began, his voice carrying a hint of regret. "In that time, I've heard many rumors surrounding him, and I've begun to worry until I was able to speak with him personally. However, as someone who has been working closely with him these past months, I wanted to ask... have you noticed any peculiarities regarding his behavior?"

The Spartan, knowing exactly what the lord was referring to, narrowed his eyes slightly at the shorter man. "I have kept a close eye on him," Kratos replied, his tone blunt. "So far, he has shown nothing out of the ordinary."

Rodrigue exhaled in relief, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. "That's good to hear. I am… certain that you're already aware of the things he's had to endure since that fateful day, but that is not the main reason I wished to speak with you.

"I have many regrets, Sir Kratos. Not only have I failed to protect His Majesty, but I also failed to protect Prince Dimitri's innocence as well." The head of House Fraldarius' expression grew more somber. "And now, even though I no longer see eye-to-eye with my remaining son, I ask you to please do everything within your power to keep Felix and His Highness safe out there. It is not often that I would ask for such a favor from someone I'd deem to be a complete stranger, but after everything I'd heard about you, I believe you are someone who can be trusted."

Kratos remained silent for a moment, his gaze unwavering as he considered Rodrigue's request. Finally, he gave a firm nod. "I will do what I must," he replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

And Rodrigue, reassured by the Spartan's answer, offered a small, grateful smile. "That is all I can ask for."

x-x-x

After his recent discussion with Sylvain, and with Kratos seemingly nowhere to be found within the monastery, Mimir had asked the young redhead to take him to the library, where the severed head could continue his own independent study and where Kratos would inevitably find him should the Spartan come looking. Some time had passed, and still, his old companion hadn't shown up. But eventually, someone did come looking for the Norse god. From atop the table where his head rested, he noticed a familiar shade of sky blue hair entering and walking toward him.

Dropping the utensil in his mouth that he used to turn the pages of the book propped up in front of him, Mimir offered the approaching Marianne a friendly smile before greeting her warmly, "Ah, hello there, Ms. Edmund. Did you get yourself a good night's rest last night?"

Marianne offered a polite nod. "Yes, I did sleep well, despite everything that happened yesterday," she said softly, her voice tinged with lingering concern.

Mimir's smile widened slightly. "Well, that's good to hear. Rest is important, especially after a day like yesterday." Noticing the fickleness in the girl's eyes, he then added with a more serious tone. "Was there something that you wanted to talk about with me in confidence, lass?"

The priestess hesitated. "Yes, there is, but we don't have to go anywhere private. Right here will be just fine. May I sit with you?"

"Aye, of course." The head said in a low voice, but maintained his smile. "Please, take a seat."

With a grateful nod, Marianne did just that. And as she got settled in, Mimir had decided to get right to the chase before asking her, "So, lass, what's been eating away at you as of late? Was there something about yesterday that you wanted to get off your chest?"

To his surprise, Marianne shook her head. "Oh, no, Professor. It's nothing to do with that. It's about, um…" She bites her lip while trying to recall what she'd practiced before talking to her professor. "I… actually came here to make a confession."

Mimir raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "A confession from you? I must admit, I'm a bit surprised. You've always seemed like the least likely of the lot to have something to confess about." His tone was light, though he was clearly intrigued. "But, no matter. Whatever it is, I'll do what I can to help you set things right. So, what's weighing on your mind, lass?"

Marianne, with her hands folded in her lap, nervously fidgeted with her thumbs before quietly saying, "It was two months ago, right before I decided to ask to join your class. I was passing by your room one night, and, well, I overheard some things that you and Professor Kratos had said." At that moment, Mimir could almost immediately recall the specific conversation the priestess was likely referring to. However, still unsure as to exactly what she'd heard, the severed head waited patiently, giving Marianne an expectant look to allow her to explain herself. "I wasn't able to hear everything," The girl hurriedly added. "It- it wasn't even my intention to intrude , but… the things that I did catch was what had motivated me to ask to join your class in the first place."

Her professor clicked his tongue. "Miss Edmund… What exactly did you hear?"

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she gathered her resolve. "I... I heard you mention something about Prince Dimitri," she confessed, her voice trembling slightly. "As well as something about 'controlling the monster.' I still don't know exactly what that means, but..." She opened her eyes, looking down at her hands as she continued. "When Sir Kratos said that, it felt like something that applied to me, too." She glanced back up at Mimir. "That was why I wanted to join your class. I thought that maybe... by being here, I could figure out what he meant, and maybe... learn how to control whatever it is inside of me, too."

Mimir remained silent for a moment, his gold glowing eyes studying her carefully. When he spoke, his voice was low, meant only for her ears. "This is something to do with your Crest, isn't it, lass?"

Marianne's breath hitched, and she could feel the familiar wave of fear and shame tightening in her chest. She knew she could still deny it, pretend that her professor was wrong, but as tears welled up in her eyes, she gave a silent, trembling nod, her gaze dropping to the table once more. The answer she'd given him was the final piece of the puzzle, confirming what Mimir had suspected all along. He couldn't help but pity the girl as he weighed his options for how to respond to this new revelation.

"Let me tell you something, Miss Edmund," He told her firmly, yet reassuringly. "I have seen many monsters- and I mean- real monsters throughout my long, disembodied lifetime. And would you like to know what they all have in common?" Marianne blinked, looking up at him with uncertainty as her silence prompted him to continue. "They were not born that way. Now, I don't mean to include things such as wild beasts, or even creatures of pure instinct. I'm talking about those who had the capacity for reason, for kindness, and still chose to make the conscious decision to inflict great pain and suffering on others simply for their own selfish gains."

Marianne stiffened, having noticed that Mimir was starting to become uncharacteristically angry as he reached the latter half of the last sentence. Thankfully, however, he realizes this himself and the head took a moment to reel himself back a bit before asking her, "Now, do you truly see yourself as such a person, lass?"

"I... I don't know," she admitted quietly, her voice wavering. "Sometimes, I wonder if... if there's a part of me that might be."

Mimir softened his gaze, giving her a moment before responding. "Lass, you've had many opportunities to show the kind of person you are, and time and time again, you've proven yourself. Despite your Crest and what it means to others, you've succeeded." He gave her a knowing smile. "But now, you've got an even bigger opportunity ahead. You'll be given command of a battalion soon enough, and it's there where you can truly show the cut of your jib, as we say. You'll have the chance to show everyone- yourself included- what kind of leader you are truly capable of becoming."