Chapter Text
GARREG MACH, GREAT TREE MOON, 1180
Byleth had never seen a place as impressive as Garreg Mach Monastery.
The towering church dwarfed everything in the surrounding area, casting long shadows down from the mountains over the countryside beyond. The air around them carried the chill of early spring, but warm light flooded the path before the travelers as they approached the gate. She could hear the bustle of a market just beyond the gate as the knight called Alois waved to the guardsmen on the wall. Moments later, the portcullis lifted, and Jeralt walked in before her. She followed at his right side, still trying to take in everything around her. Townsfolks and members of the mercenary band had mentioned the existence of Garreg Mach to her before, but she thought little of it, certainly never expecting to go up the mountain herself. Her father had always preferred to stay in the countryside, where jobs could be found and completed with less attention drawn to them. Now, as she followed her father on the stone paths before them, Byleth felt as though she was in the center of the world.
“Captain, you had better hurry upstairs. The archbishop has requested your presence right away.” The slick-haired knight saluted with a grin, and without even looking up at her father, Byleth could sense the roll of his eyes. She had put together that they knew each other, but she could not remember having seen the man before.
Then again, she could barely remember anything else either. All of her memories were a puzzle of moments, faces, and names that she could never piece together.
“It’s been years since I’ve last set eyes on this place.” Jeralt’s shoulders tensed up as he entered the main building of the monastery, marching straight for the stairs despite not being pointed in that direction by any of the guards. “To be forced to see her now...”
Byleth kept one hand near her side, ready to pull her dagger from her cloak at a moment’s notice. Their swords had been taken when they entered the monastery, and while one guard was supposed to pat down the Ashen Demon to check for other weapons, a stern glare from her father had cowed the man into backing away. She kept tabs on all of the students, monks, and guards around, warily monitoring each one. “You’ve been here before?”
Jeralt suddenly had an immense fascination with his own shoes. “I've never spoken of this to you before, but...many years ago, I was a knight here. Reported to the archbishop...Lady Rhea. She leads the Church of Seiros. We’ve never been super religious, but I’m sure you’ve noticed most folks in Fódlan are devout followers of the Goddess and the five saints.” The orange-clad mercenary finally looked up as they entered a greeting hall of sorts, with one chair at the center of the room. “Anyway, the Archbishop is the one who’s summoned us here.”
As if on cue, a green-haired figure entered the room. His blue tunic was trimmed with gold on the chest and shoulders and fastened with gray metal buttons, while his sleeves were open on the sides much like her own. A large cross adorned his belt, with the sides disappearing behind a black and gold cape. While the rest of his appearance seemed highly organized and well-kept, his hair was long and wild, tips curling upward every which way, leaving his ears completely invisible.
Byleth furrowed her brow and glanced up at her father. “I thought you said the archbishop was a lady,” she whispered.
The green-haired man either could not hear her or did not care. “Thank you for your patience, Jeralt. My name is Seteth. I am an advisor to the archbishop.”
“Right. Hello.” As Jeralt finished greeting the advisor, another figure entered the chamber. She was eight centimeters taller than Byleth, and this height difference was further accentuated by the large headpiece that sat atop her head. Her long white dress flowed down under her blue and gold cloak, covered in a pattern Byleth did not recognize. She was beautiful, but not in a way that inspired lust from the young mercenary. She carried herself with beauty that inspired reverence and fear.
“It has been a long time, Jeralt.” Rhea’s voice was low and flowed smoothly, though even this tone carried a level of authority- as though each word was the result of months of careful consideration. “I wonder...was it the will of the goddess that we have another chance meeting like this?”
Byleth’s memories may have been foggy, but she was certain that this moment had been the first time she ever witnessed Jeralt bowing to anyone. “Forgive my silence all these years. Much has happened since we last spoke.”
“So I see.” Rhea’s gaze shifted from Jeralt onto Byleth, trying to analyze her facial expression to glean some sort of insight into her thoughts. Nobody ever could. “The miracle of fatherhood has blessed you. That is your child, is it not?”
Jeralt’s face was much easier for Byleth to read. He was uncomfortable- deeply so. His chin shifted slightly as his shoulders tensed even more. Seteth seemed to be noticing the same change Byleth had perceived, as the advisor was watching him carefully. “Yes... Born many years after I left this place. I wish I could introduce you to the mother of my child...but I'm afraid we lost her to illness.”
Rhea briefly turned to Jeralt to offer a small smile before returning her attention back to his daughter. “…I see. My condolences.” The words seemed to have little feeling behind them. “As for you… I heard of your valiant efforts from Alois. What is your name?”
Everything about this situation had left her uneasy, although her face may not have shown it. She glanced at her father, who nodded his approval for her to answer. “Byleth.”
Rhea smiled, although Byleth could not shake the impression that the archbishop had already known her answer. “A fine name indeed. Byleth, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you for saving those students of the Officers Academy.” Byleth heard an indiscriminate grumble from her father. “Jeralt. You already know what it is I wish to say, do you not?”
Jeralt let out a loud sigh, shaking his head. “You want me to rejoin the Knights of Seiros, don't you. I won't say no, but...”
“Your apprehension stings.” Rhea actually seemed to show a level of genuine disappointment at Jeralt’s reluctance. Rhea turns from them and begins to walk out of the room, Seteth at her side. “I had expected that Alois would have already asked this of you. I must step away for now, but I expect they will desire a word with you soon. Please listen carefully to what they have to say. Until tomorrow... Farewell.”
Byleth watched them leave blankly, contemplating everything that had taken place. All that her father and the archbishop had said left her with more questions than answers.
The students of the Black Eagle house huddled around as Edelgard used magic to draw forth the shape of a crest before them. A black-haired man stood just behind her, on guard as though they were not residing in the most well-guarded castle in Fódlan.
“Man, I don’t know that one…” A finger pushed through the boy’s light blue hair to scratch at his head. “It looks kind of like Timotheos, but it definitely can’t be that. Theirs is spikier. Do you know this one?”
“I am not having the answers, Caspar. This is all quite new to me.” The heir to Brigid cocked her head to the side as she pondered the shape. “I have seen this one around the monastery already, though.”
“Truthfully, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten this one, Caspar. This is quite common.” The orange-haired noble tossed his hair out of his face. “I would guess you have seen it many times now.”
“No need to be patronizing, Ferdinand.” To his right, a beautiful brown-haired woman scowled at him. “Give the rest of us a chance. How about you, Berna- wait, where’s Bernadetta?”
Hubert shifted his yellow eyes to his lower right. “No need to be concerned, Dorothea. She’s over here, under the table, hiding beneath a book.”
“Ah! No need to rat me out, Hubert!” Varley’s daughter tucked her legs in even closer to hopefully conceal herself entirely under the table. “I don’t know this one, anyway. Can I just go back to my room now?”
“This is the last one for today, then you can all do as you please.” Edelgard scanned the room, waiting for an answer that was not forthcoming. Ferdinand started to open his mouth, then hesitated to wait and see if anyone else knew the answer. “Well, if nobody-”
“It is the crest of Seiros.” A muffled voice pushed through the fabrics of a figure slumped over the table next to Caspar. “The crest is the one you possess yourself, Lady Edelgard. It is also possessed by Lady Rhea and the new mercenary captain, Jeralt.”
“Correct, Linhardt, thank you for finally parti- wait, pardon?” Edelgard’s eyes shot open as she processed what she had just heard.
“Yes, I went by Professor Hanneman’s office today, and he had documentation on the crests of all the staff. Jeralt’s document was at the top since he had just been re-hired by the Church, and it says he has the crest of Seiros.”
“And his daughter?”
“No clue.” Linhardt yawned aggressively as he stretched his arms upward. “I didn’t even know he had a daughter.”
“That mercenary who saved you…” Ferdinand rested his chin in his right hand, puzzled. “She was his daughter? That’s interesting. But how does Jeralt have the Crest of Seiros? I thought you and I were the only ones who shared a crest with a staff member.”
“Apparently not.” Edelgard’s attention was barely on the conversation happening before her. This revelation gave her much to think about. None of her classmates knew that Byleth had been pressed to become a professor. The news had come as a disappointment to Edelgard, who had hoped to recruit her to serve the Adrestian Empire, but she could certainly be of use here. Perhaps Byleth would even lead the Black Eagle house.
“Truthfully, I could make little conclusions about Byleth in our brief interaction. However,” Hubert remarked, “If she was willing to risk her own life to come to your aid, I believe it would be good if her family remained at Garreg Mach.”
“I was pleased to… to have met her.” Petra chose her words very carefully. “She looks very strong.”
“Oh, she looks a lot more than that!” Dorothea responded to Petra with a mischievous grin. “Have you ever seen a woman so stunning? I certainly would not mind having her around more often!”
“She looks to be about our age!” Caspar interjected before Dorothea’s thirst could send her spiraling too far off the deep end. “I wonder if she’ll be enrolled into the academy. It would be cool if she joined our class!”
“I agree with all three of you- she seems to be a capable and beautiful woman! If she does enroll as a student, we must endeavor to make her feel at home.” Ferdinand straightened up as he rested a hand on Caspar’s shoulder.
“Are we done now? Can I go back to my room?”
The house leader sighed. “Yes, Bernadetta, you may go.” At Edelgard’s words, the class slowly meandered out one by one, leaving Edelgard alone with her thoughts (and Hubert at the door).
Her classmates had no way of knowing, but the prospective classmate they were hoping for was actually a potential instructor, and one that Edelgard was fascinated by. She was beautiful, obviously, but she was also a cunning fighter. The emperor-to-be had heard stories about the Ashen Demon, and it was clear that the myths had not exaggerated her ability.
Beyond all that, though, she was a woman with a story. Edelgard could tell there was more to her even before learning that her father had the same crest as herself and Lady Rhea. Now? She needed to know even more badly.
“Shall we go again?”
The heir to Faerghus readied his lance for the approach of the swordsman before him. His blonde hair settled as he watched the blue-haired teenager charge, wooden sword in hand. His footsteps were quiet even as he charged, but Dimitri heard two more feet behind him. Swinging backwards suddenly, his lance careened into the training axe being swung down at him by the large man behind him, pushing it just enough out of the way to miss his frame. Turning quickly once again, Dimitri blocked the swing downward from the swordsman before lunging backwards to avoid the upwards counter, his blonde hair bobbing in front of his eyes. The obstruction to his view made it difficult to gauge the next actions of his foes, and the resulting sweep by the larger man left him flat on his back, sore from the impact of the training ground’s stones beneath him. Within a second, the head of the wooden axe rested just above his neck.
“Perhaps we should save such an exercise for when we have proper supervision.” The hulking figure switched the axe to his left hand and offered an open palm in its place. “I do not wish to cause lasting injuries.”
“Don’t take it easy on him, Dedue. He needs the practice.” The swordsman walked back to where he started as Dimitri took Dedue’s offered hand and got back to his feet.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Felix, but given how skilled you both are, I imagine all of these two-versus-one experiments are going to go about the same. I lack the prowess to fight you both off.” Dimitri’s words did little more than earn a scoff from Felix.
“It’s an admirable effort!” A high, sweet voice rose over the argument to take their attention, and the three combatants turned to see a long-haired woman smiling and clapping lightly. “If you keep trying, I bet you can get to the point where you last at least ten seconds before the end of next week!”
“I thank you for your positivity, Mercedes.” Dimitri stretched his back, trying to reset himself from the impact he had just endured. His peace was quickly disrupted by a target clattering to the ground with a BOOM a few meters away from them, cinders nipping at the sides.
“It certainly took the target down, but I’m not sure that my arrow made much of a difference…”
“Well, we’re just going to have to work on it! Thanks for trying, Ashe!” The experiment’s middling result did little to bring down Annette’s spirits. The orange-haired mage high-fived Ashe before quickly leaping back to give the final training pair some space.
“Hands off, Sylvain, I can do this myself.”
“Ouch, Ingrid, no need to be so defensive. I’m just trying to help.” Sylvain shied away from the raised fist before him, releasing Ingrid’s shoulders swiftly.
“I know what I’m doing. If you want to make yourself useful, grab another and let’s spar.” Sylvain rolled his eyes in reply, but nevertheless did make his way over before stopping in his tracks. “Sylvain? What are you looking at?”
Following the redhead’s gaze, Ingrid spotted a green-haired woman standing near the door to the training grounds. “Oh, I see. I wonder who she is.” Ingrid was about to shout a greeting to the woman when she slipped back through the large door and disappeared.
“That’s the mercenary who saved us from the bandits! I told you about her, remember?” Dimitri strode over to join Ingrid and Sylvain, Dedue and Felix in tow. “I spoke to her earlier today. She was likely just here to observe us.”
“She was certainly beautiful! So quiet, though,” Mercedes chimed in, “I wonder what she thought of us.”
“For her efforts in your defense, I am in her debt.” Dedue returned his training axe to the weapons rack at Sylvain’s side. “If she remains at the monastery going forward, I will be sure to return that favor.”
“If she’s truly as good as you say,” Felix added, “I look forward to sparring with her. And beating her.”
“Felix, must you always speak of fighting right away?”
“You should try sparring with her too,” Annette chimed in, “You’re super good at fighting too, aren’t you?”
“Well… Sure, Annette, but I’m not going to lead with that.” Ingrid turned to face Dimitri, training lance still in hand. “In the meantime, how about you and I face Felix and Sylvain? Two-on-two practice is good for battlefield prep.”
“Just like old times, eh, Felix?” Sylvain patted the shorter swordsman on the back, who scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“Whatever. Just don’t hold me back.”
The hands of the heir to house Riegan held down a map across a table in the Golden Deer classroom as the young white-haired lady Lysithea took down notes on the locations and names before them, while Marianne quietly did the same at her side. The sounds of chatting and scrawling were only occasionally interrupted by the chewing of meat by the large young man standing beside them. Lorenz Gloucester glared across the table at the hulking figure while a pink-haired girl sat at his side, head in her hands, absentmindedly looking down at the map without studying anything in particular.
“Raphael, must you eat in the classroom? These documents are highly valuable- some of them several times older than us. We do not need meat juice and your drool staining them.”
“Oh, come on, Lorenz, I’ve gotta keep my calories up if I want to maintain this physique! It’s an important part of my training!”
“I’m with Raphael on this one.” The orange-haired commoner turned her attention from her bow to address the indignant lord. “Let him eat. He’s not hurting anyone.”
“You may not think of these documents as being important, Leonie, but such things are not to be taken lightly!”
“Would you guys quiet down?! Some of us are actually trying to retain information!” Lysithea leaned over the table to look closer at the names of the points of interest in the Faerghus region. “Marianne and I can’t possibly focus with all your chatter.”
“Oh, I- I don’t mind. I wouldn’t want to make anyone feel unwelcome. Sorry if I’m in the way.” Marianne set her quill back into the ink well before sitting back in her chair.
“Don’t be!” The green-haired boy sitting at the table across from Lysithea and Marianne smiled at them as he finished sketching a copy of the map. “Thank you both for taking down the names. I’d love to add them to my sketch later.”
“Y-yes! You’re welcome, Ignatz.” The blue-haired student’s gaze quickly returned to her own lap.
“Hey Claude…” The pink-haired girl sitting at Lorenz’ side finally lifted her head out of her hands, looking up at their house leader. “I saw you having a conversation with that mercenary earlier. What’s her deal? Is she sticking around or something?”
“Hm?” Raphael’s voice was muffled by the beef being chewed in his mouth. “Who are we talking about?”
“The mercenaries who came to Claude’s rescue after he foolishly ran from the knights of Seiros?” Lorenz rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember.”
“No need to be so hostile, big shot! Besides,” Leonie interjected, “They’re not just any mercenaries. That was the Band of the Blade Breaker!”
“Who?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know, Lysithea! Captain Jeralt! He’s only the best mercenary in all of Fódlan and a former leader of the Knights of Seiros! I was his apprentice for a while when I was younger.”
“So you’ve said,” Hilda added sassily, “Many times.”
“Well, the other mercenary’s name is Byleth. She’s the one who jumped in front of Edelgard and defeated the bandit leader. She killed about a third of the bandits all on her own.” Claude chose his words carefully as he felt the eyes of all his classmates on him. “Clearly she’s somewhat well-known in her own regard, since some of the bandits knew her already by the name of ‘Ashen Demon.’ She’s also Jeralt’s kid, I think.”
“You think?”
“Well, Lorenz, that’s what Jeralt claimed to Alois, but they don’t look much alike, so I’m not too sure.” Claude’s answer seemed to satisfy the Count, who nodded in reply. “Anyway, she’s a hard person to read. Her face barely moves when she talks or listens.”
“I remember. Felt a lot like Lady Rhea.” Hilda tilted her head as she pondered the mercenary woman. “Do you know what she’s doing here? Will she and her father by sticking around?”
“Well…” Claude was unsure whether he should let slip the information he was privy to but ultimately concluded that they were likely to find out soon either way. “Jeralt’s been recruited to retake his old position as Captain of the Knights of Seiros. As for Byleth herself? Well, she’s being kept around to be a professor. And since each of the Academy’s three honors houses are assigned a professor to oversee them, there’s a chance that she could be assigned to us. Professors Casagranda and Von Essar have given her first choice.”
“Wow! Captain Jeralt’s daughter as our professor? Awesome!” Leonie’s smile could be seen for miles.
“Our professor?” Lorenz did not share Leonie’s enthusiasm. “She may be a skilled mercenary, but I cannot shake my discomfort at the thought.”
“She was recommended by Alois of the Knights, from what I’ve heard.” Ignatz chimed in after Lorenz, and Claude suddenly realized that Ignatz already knew everything he shared. The house leader made a mental note to not underestimate the young merchant again. “Do you know what house she’s going to choose?”
“Afraid not.” Claude may have had a habit of withholding information from others, but that answer was genuine. “We’ll have to wait and see.”
“Well, I certainly hope she chooses us! If she’s such a good fighter, hopefully I won’t have to do too much work myself. Besides, she’s so pretty! It would be nice to have her around.” Hilda hummed to herself as she and Claude rolled up the map.
Claude, like Hilda, hoped for Byleth to choose this house, but this was less out of laziness and more out of fascination. He had gotten rather good at reading people over the years, but none of his experience was any help with the Ashen Demon. Nobody seemed to know anything about her other than her father and speaking to her himself did not offer much help either. She was a mystery to him.
And there were very few things Claude liked more than mysteries.
Byleth chose the Golden Deer, although she was not sure of her own reasoning for doing so.
Edelgard’s personality was far more similar to her own than Claude’s was, and her Black Eagle house was replete with powerful, well-raised nobles. Dimitri was well-mannered, strong, and undoubtedly very friendly, and the Blue Lions were a mixture of nobles and commoners with extensive combat training, with some of them being graduates of the Royal School of Sorcery. Claude and the Golden Deer, on the other hand, were a hodgepodge of dysfunctional nobles and eager commoners with colorful personalities and numerous issues.
However, something about the Golden Deer fascinated Byleth. Their personalities clashed and they had their issues, but they were undoubtedly kindhearted students. Lorenz maintained a pompous and arrogant presentation, but he was clearly well-meaning at heart. Hilda appeared shallow and motivating her to work would clearly be a challenge, but she was friendly and kind, and the smile that she wore was not a fraudulent one. Raphael and Ignatz, the two merchant kids, could not have appeared more different, but both of them were hardworking in their own way. Besides, there was a level of sadness in both of them that Byleth could not place, and she wanted an answer to the questions they left her with. Lysithea was young and ill-tempered, but her work ethic was unimpeachable, and from the report Seteth had given her, Byleth knew she was an extremely talented mage. As for Leonie, Byleth was ever so slightly off-put by the girl’s obsession with Jeralt, but her heart was clearly in the right place, and the story of how she had gotten to the academy in the first place was admirable. Marianne was by far the quietest of the bunch, but something about her felt relatable to Byleth. She rarely expressed much emotion- a trait Byleth certainly shared- but she had some indescribable quality made Byleth feel like she needed to be around her, for both their sakes.
And then there was Claude. She hadn’t the slightest clue what to make of him. He initially appeared so carefree, full of humor and quick to make lighthearted jabs at the other two house leaders. He was a decent shot with a bow and arrow, but his battle prowess did not come anywhere near Edelgard or Dimitri. His devilish good looks were not what motivated her choice either.
The thing that drew her to Claude was all that she could not see on the surface. He smiled often, but the smile never seemed to reach his eyes. When she spoke to him, he appeared carefree or even foolhardy on the surface, but she could tell that he was constantly thinking about his next angle or move. The conversation with him felt less like a briefing and more like a game of chess. And while much of her own life was a mystery to her, she could tell he was keenly aware of his own- he just refused to share it with her.
And the only way to get the answers she wanted was to spend more time with him, and what better way to do that than as his professor? Thus, her choice was made. She had no idea just how consequential a decision it would be.
“Great work, Teach! That was a brilliant win.” Claude saluted the professor jokingly and smiled at her, looking to see what reaction he could glean.
“Everyone did well.” Her face was blank, and her eyes remained focused on nothing in particular before her. Claude couldn’t get anything from this. It almost seemed like she was listening to someone else, although nobody was around.
“Look at you, already deflecting credit for our first mock battle win, passing it to your students instead. You’re a natural.” The prowess with which the Golden Deer took on both other houses simultaneously was surprising to him. Not as surprising as it had been to Edelgard (who was far less effective at concealing her feelings on the matter than Byleth), but surprising, nonetheless. Leonie had chalked it up to the tutelage of Jeralt, but even a highly experienced general would have had a hard time beating those odds.
As the rest of the Golden Deer poured into the classroom to celebrate their victory, Claude re-analyzed the battle in his head, trying to put together how Byleth had martialed them to victory. They had drawn the other houses into fighting them amidst the trees, which had given them the element of surprise, but Claude could have thought of that himself. She had positioned them perfectly so that the closest Golden Deer to any member of another house had the right weapon to counter them, ensuring a slight advantage at all times. Additionally, she had correctly predicted that Ferdinand and Felix would each charge ahead of the rest of their classmates, leaving Ignatz, Claude, and Lysithea perfectly positioned to pick them off with ease. From there, the Black Eagles had to advance early and were quickly cut down, and cleaning up the Blue Lions was not difficult either- they simply let Raphael draw the attention before encircling their approaching foes. These above factors all contributed, but all of that did not explain just how easy it all felt. They should not have been able to make it through the exercise without a single casualty, even in practice.
At every turn, it felt like luck was constantly on their side. Bernadetta’s first training arrow had only missed him by a hair. Raphael’s wooden axe hit Dimitri’s lance in just the right way to split the shaft. On one occasion, Byleth had called out Ignatz’s name, causing him to pause to face her and thereby not walk into the way of a magic attack from Dorothea. One of those occurrences would have been an extremely lucky break, but all of them? It seemed impossible.
“Claude? Are you coming?” Lorenz stood at the door with Byleth and the rest of the Golden Deer at his side. “It would be rude for our house leader to not attend the celebration dinner, even if I had wished it were me instead.”
Claude wasn’t sure how long he had been off in his own thoughts, but he shook them off briskly, walking over and wrapping one arm around Ignatz’s shoulder as they exited the classroom. “Of course I’m coming along. I swiped some finely aged cheese from the dining hall for just this occasion.” Even outright confession of a violation of monastery rules did not appear to evoke a single change in Byleth’s features.
He had to stay focused. He had so much work to do. But after the celebratory meal and the wishing of good-nights by his peers, the only person on his mind as he donned his nightwear and rolled into bed was the dark-green-haired professor.