A/N: I've introduced a minor crossover element for the sake of comedy. It will not affect the more serious parts of the plot.
Mith's face flushed. "Erm."
"Erm?" Byleth parroted in a slightly mocking tone.
"I… may have accidentally a noble again?"
"Mith." Byleth's eyes narrowed.
"So like, he'd tie her up for hours - Bernadetta von Varley - and make her be quiet the entire time, and he killed her one friend with gauntlets- not weapons, just hand armor - and, and-" Mith babbled, eyes wide.
Byleth sipped her tea again, eyes not leaving Mith.
"And he'd yell at her all the time, telling her she was never good enough and tried to make her into some submissive bride, and that's why she's a nervous wreck of a recluse," Mith said, face taking on a mulish cast. "He deserved what I gave him and worse."
The mercenary folded her hands over her plate.
"Your food's gonna get cold," Mith muttered, plucking a strip of bacon from his plate and chewing it violently.
Byleth sighed and began to eat. After a few bites, she looked up. "I believe you, but politics are delicate enough without sniping influential nobles off the board whenever they do something heinous." She sipped her tea. "I mean, they're nobles. When you jockey for power and lives below a certain status are currency, heinous acts are a dime a dozen." She wasn't bitter, no sir.
Mith grunted. "Yeah." He fiddled with his food. "Edelgard wants to talk to me later."
Byleth felt her shoulders tighten. "Oh?"
He nodded. "...I told her about what Bernadetta's father got up to, and…" he trailed off. "Let's say I have imperial sanction and leave it at that."
She pursed her lips and exhaled. "Mith."
He didn't respond.
Byleth shook her head. "Alright. I'll trust you to know what you're getting into." She ate a bit more, then squinted. "So. Normally with a situation like Sylvain's, you'd be more actively antagonistic. What's different?"
Mith straightened up, light returning to his eyes. "Well, he's not an ass all the time," he admitted. "Just… I don't get it? If he's out for a good flirt, why say stuff like he did to Allie?"
Byleth blinked. "Who?"
"Village girl; her father's a farmer," Mith explained. "She was literally out for a good time, and he accused her of being a noble hunter while she was crying her eyes out. Of course, this was after he'd promised her forever." He paused. "She said she knew better, but let him reel her in."
Byleth hummed. "I see. Do you think he might have been targeted before?"
Mith raised a finger and opened his mouth. He paused, then closed it by nudging his chin up.
"Mm-hm." Byleth gave him a knowing look. "Now, does this justify his paranoia? No. But it does explain it," she said flatly.
Mith slumped. "...should I apologize?" he muttered.
Byleth shook her head. "I wouldn't. He did hurt someone, and I can't see you honestly apologize for giving him shit over it. It doesn't seem like he held a grudge last night, either."
Mith grumbled irritably, his cheeks going red.
"Do you feel like you should apologize?" Byleth asked curiously. She hadn't seen Mith get like this before.
"...he's friends with Felix. Has been for a long time," Mith said softly.
"Ah," Byleth said gently. "And Felix is the first friend you've made in…" she trailed off. "You really haven't had anyone but Jeralt and I for a long time, have you?"
Mith stared flatly at her. "Yeah. It's part of why I wanted Emile to come with us, and why I hightailed it into Sreng to go find Macuil. You and Jeralt are good people, but I've missed having a big bunch of people to sponge affection from."
Byleth was glad for her general dulled emotions then, given the mention of the incisive academic. He was nigh unbearable while traveling with them, and only she and Mith were exempt from his scathing intellect. Jeralt was not.
"By?" Mith said hesitantly.
She shook her head. "It's nothing," she said.
"But… yeah. I don't want to pick a fight with him if it'll make Felix dislike me. But I can't stand by and let him hurt people, either," Mith said in a frustrated tone. "Ugh."
"And you don't know a lot about him, so you can't just maneuver him into what you want him to do," Byleth said, her lips curling slightly. "This is the first problem you couldn't just manipulate, murder, or aggressively befriend, isn't it?"
Mith looked at her with a gaze of despair. "Boo."
Byleth gave a few soft, repeated exhales.
"Stop laughing!" Mith whined, dropping his chin to the table.
An evil thought crossed Byleth's mind. "It doesn't help that he's not unattractive," she said in an arch tone.
Mith scowled. "He's a total jerk!"
"That's not what I said," Byleth said flatly.
Mith stood up with his empty plate and whirled towards the kitchen. "I have a class to prepare for, and a meeting with Edelgard and Hubert after," he said stiffly.
Byleth felt a mild short in her brain. "I was joking," she said faintly.
He stalked off.
"Oh. Oh, Mith," she sighed.
"Hmm," Sothis said, materializing. "It seems he's having conflicting emotions."
"It was a joke," Byleth muttered. "I didn't mean to upset him."
"Hmm. Do you think he…?" Sothis said with a raised eyebrow.
"No way," Byleth said flatly. "He's nowhere near green enough to fall for Sylvain's tricks."
"Exactly," Mith said tartly as he walked back in from the kitchen. "You done?" His eyes flicked up to Sothis. "Sothis."
The girl blinked. "You can see me?" she said in shock.
Mith smirked. "I can see all spirits, living or dead," he replied in an easy tone.
"Ah… so I'm alive?" she said with a furrowed brow.
Mith shrugged. "Your situation's pretty unique, so I can't honestly say."
And didn't that sentence have too many qualifiers, Byleth thought. Technically true, but…
"I see… do you know of me?" Sothis asked.
Mith gave a noncommittal hum. "I may."
Sothis puffed up like an angry cat. "I demand you tell me!"
"What do you remember?" Mith responded. "From what I've heard, not much."
The amnesiac goddess floated as she glared at Mith.
"That said, your memories should return on their own. Trying to impose one person's view of who you were on you would be detrimental," Mith continued.
Sothis blinked. "I… do not understand," she said, furrowing her brow.
"The best way for you to regain who you were - a person who I have great respect for, by the way - is to let your memories return naturally. I don't want to chance changing who you were," Mith explained.
Sothis scowled. "Do you believe simple information could change me so easily?"
"I don't know," Mith replied softly. He shook himself. "Anyways. I'm going to go head in. I get the feeling if I'm not there before the Black Eagles, I'm going to lose all control of the classroom." He gave a sharp grin. "Hope you guys have a nice day!"
Byleth watched as Mith strode out, and sighed.
"Annoying child," Sothis scoffed.
"Didn't you say you liked his style?" Byleth asked dryly.
"That was before he turned his mischief on me!" Sothis growled, stamping her foot in midair.
Byleth sighed. "Rhea wanted to speak with me, so I'm heading out."
Sothis floated along behind her, still fuming.
____________________________________________________________________________
There were six survivors of Zanado.
Indech remained in Lake Teutates.
Seiros, Cethleann, and Cichol were to be found at Garreg Mach.
And for a time, Macuil left his seclusion in the deserts of Sreng to follow Emyth'solan as the youngest wandered Fodlan in the company of humans.
That said, no matter how Macuil treasured his youngest sibling, he could not forget his distaste for humanity and their cruelty. Few exceptions were found, even during the five years spent on the road.
So, to avoid human attention, he refined his magic until he could shapeshift into forms beyond the humanoid and that of the Wind Caller. He shared the spell with his younger brother, who would use it as a joke to emulate a wyrmling's form.
The shapeshifting did not hinder his magic, so he was still a force to be reckoned with, even as he was physically beneath notice.
Macuil had settled his business with his lone brother, and believed he had piqued the other Nabatean's interest in joining their siblings.
Thus, his arrival at the monastery.
As the sun rose, Macuil flew in under his disguise, a list of required actions in his head.
It was a beautiful day at Garreg Mach.
The feathered form dived down upon a blonde-haired woman in armor, a branched sword strapped to the back of her waist.
"What the-" 'Thunder' Catherine stammered out, eyes wide.
Macuil snared the blade in his beak, tore it from her back, and began to rapidly waddle off and away from his youngest brother, who was approaching their location.
To do: Steal Thunderbrand. Accomplished.
Macuil's white feathers seemed to gleam with malevolent light as he moved faster than a bird of his stature should.
For it was a beautiful day at Garreg Mach.
And in the name of petty vengeance (as outright murder had been mostly forbidden by Mith)...
He had settled on the form of a horrible goose.
"HONK"
"GET BACK HERE!"
____________________________________________________________________________
"Rhea," Byleth said with a shallow bow.
The Archbishop inclined her head. "Thank you, Byleth. I have received word of an honored guest that should be arriving today."
"Okay…?" she replied.
"I believe he accompanied you on your travels for a time?" Rhea said pointedly.
Byleth's eyes widened slightly. "Ah. Did he say when he would be here?" she asked.
Rhea shook her head.
"Rhea! Rhea!" Seteth yelled, dashing into the room. "Catherine returned today, so I went to find Mith to warn him. However, something has transpired!"
Rhea's eyes widened in fear. "Is Mith alright?" she said urgently.
Seteth hesitated.
"Speak, Seteth!" the Archbishop ordered.
"Thunderbrand has been stolen by a goose!" Seteth choked out.
Byleth closed her eyes and sighed. "So Mac showed up after all."
Seteth stared at Byleth in utter confusion.
"Byleth."
She turned to Rhea.
"Do you mean to say that my eldest remaining brother…" Rhea trailed off, brow furrowed.
"Has developed the habit of turning into a goose and pranking humans as petty vengeance? Yes. Yes, I am saying that. He developed the spell, and only Nabateans can use it due to their partial protean nature." Byleth's face was completely expressionless.
"He made a spell… to turn into a goose," Rhea said faintly.
"It's more a generic shapeshifting spell," Byleth corrected her. "He becomes a goose out of preference, because it amuses him."
Rhea stared into the middle distance.
"Rhea?" Seteth asked hesitantly.
"The Wind Caller, Saint of Strategy and Innovation, Macuil himself… turns into a goose. And wreaks havoc." Rhea's voice was distant.
"I blame Mith, personally," Byleth said flatly. "They were terrible influences on each other."
Rhea slowly walked towards the throne in the audience chamber, turned, and collapsed into it.
Seteth nervously approached her. "Lady Rhea, we need to do something. Catherine is pursuing Macuil through the monastery. She is being outsped by a waddling goose on foot. A goose encumbered with a weapon of unparalleled power," he stressed. "It will not reflect well on the Church if one of its greatest knights is outsmarted by an aquatic avian."
Byleth felt terribly amused, but…
"Good heavens. Why would the man want the blade in the first place?" Sothis asked, unseen by any but the professor.
"Mith can hear the souls of the dead. He elaborated somewhat on the nature of Heroes' Relics, and the vile acts that created them," Byleth remarked aloud.
Rhea sighed. "I am unsurprised that Macuil would combine his acts of petty vengeance against humanity with protecting Mith from exposure to a Hero's Relic. The man rarely makes an overt move without accomplishing multiple goals."
Byleth rubbed her face. "I suppose I can enlist my class in convincing Mac to surrender Thunderbrand…" she said begrudgingly.
Rhea inclined her head. "Thank you very much. You and your students will be appropriately rewarded for tangling with the Wind Caller."
Seteth coughed. "I will request Flayn to help. The danger will be low, and her uncle will likely indulge her where he would not do so for your charges."
Byleth felt her lips quirk up. "Of course. Thank you, Seteth."
He gave a brief bow to both of them. "I shall go find Flayn." He stood. "Best of luck, Byleth." Then he turned on his heel and walked out.
Byleth sighed. "Time for a goose hunt," she murmured.
Sothis frowned next to her. "I wonder… I've never seen a Hero's Relic up close before. What is it that causes Mith such distress?"
Byleth felt her mouth tighten as she walked out of the audience chamber to seek her class.
____________________________________________________________________________
I arrived in the Black Eagles classroom before the students. Moving to the front, I leaned on the podium and looked out over the room as I thought.
My methods I used with the Deer would probably land well with some of the students, but I doubted they would find purchase with Bernadetta, Edelgard, or Hubert. I had yet to meet the other five officers-in-training, but at least one of them had to be friendly. I hoped. They couldn't all be paranoid little troglodytes… right?
Right.
Maybe.
Fuck.
As I began to work myself into a minor tizzy, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.
"I decided to get our… problem children here early, so as to relieve you of the burden," Hubert said smoothly.
To one side of him was a green-haired young man who rubbed his eyes while frowning slightly. To the other was a shivering young woman with purple messy hair, who looked like she would fly apart at the slightest provocation.
"This is Linhardt von Hevring. While intelligent, he is supremely unmotivated. To my left is Bernadetta von Varley. She has skill with the bow, but is a bit of a recluse." Hubert's smile was icy. "Best of luck, Professor." He moved towards the front of the room and selected a table of his own.
Linhardt yawned. "Well, as fascinating as I'm sure this will be, I'm… gonna go nap…" he said sleepily.
Bernadetta swallowed nervously as he turned to go. "Um…!" she squeaked out.
Alright then.
"Bernadetta, please sit at that table," I said, pointing at one near the center of the room. "You may pick either seat, whichever makes you more comfortable. Unfortunately, leaving is not an option."
She scurried forward and chose the seat closer to the wall, then sat in it sideways so she faced the aisle and had a full view of the room.
I looked to Linhardt as he approached the exit of the room.
"A demonstration, then," I said icily.
Vines sprung into existence with a sharp hiss, obscuring the exit to the room.
"Gah!" Linhardt yelped, doubling back.
The illusion vanished, leaving no evidence.
"Linhardt. Take a seat at the unoccupied front table. If Hubert says you have potential, then I won't allow it to be squandered." I let a frown cross my face. "He isn't the sort to hand out meaningless compliments."
Hubert's smirk widened slightly as Linhardt frowned at me.
"I have important research-"
"On?" I asked politely.
"Linhardt. Do as the Professor says," Edelgard said as she strode in, tone brooking no argument.
I folded my arms and began to drum my fingers in irritation.
Linhardt gave a long-suffering sigh as he took his assigned seat.
Edelgard sat next to Hubert, gazing at me intently.
I let a bright smile cross my face. "Five minutes before class and we already have half of the people here! I'd call that a success. Thank you Hubert," I said with a chirp in my voice.
Hubert slightly inclined his head as he eyed the paper on the desk.
"You'll need ink and quill to list what you want to learn here," I said calmly.
Linhardt's attention focused on me. "So this is a free study period?"
I raised a hand and tilted it back and forth. "In a sense. You'll set goals, and I'll do what I can to help you meet them. This will occasionally include me harassing the Knights or other staff into assisting me."
Edelgard raised an eyebrow. "How interesting."
"Ah, it seems that we are not having the tardiness," a young woman's voice remarked.
I looked up to see a young woman from Brigid with deep magenta hair walk in alongside-
My brain sputtered for a moment at the woman next to her.
She had long, wavy brown hair and expressive eyes. Her smile was coy and playful, but not unkind. I could smell her perfume from-
"Professor?" Edelgard prompted me.
I blinked. "Ah, yes. Apologies," I said with a sharp shake of my head. "So alongside dirty fighting and clandestine operations, I have some unique spellcrafting experience I hope to share with you all," I said. I paused. "Though I should probably wait until the last two members of the class arrive so I can explain myself as few times as possible."
There was a loud sound from the exit as the two girls sat behind Linhardt's table.
"Apologies, Professor! I had to collect Caspar from the training field!" a ginger noble said with a broad smile.
The shorter boy next to him gave him a scowl. "I was gonna be on time!" he said irritably. The cyan-haired young man shook his head and grinned at me. "Heya, Prof! Wow, you really are our age!"
"Alright, take your seats and I'll do roll call," I said with a gesture.
The… orange? His hair looked orange. Anyways, loud cheery noble sat next to Bernadetta, while Caspar sat by Linhardt.
"So I've met Edelgard and Hubert before, and Hubert introduced Bernadetta and Linhardt," I said, pointing at each. "So you're Caspar?" I asked, gesturing at the youngest man in the room.
"Yup!" he said, pumping his fist excitedly.
"Alright… Ferdinand?" I called out.
"It is indeed I, Professor! Ferdinand von Aegir, at your service!" the orange-haired noble said cheerfully.
"And he will not let you forget it. You will most certainly remember his name," Hubert said in an icy, bored tone.
I decided not to dwell on that too much. "Okay then. Petra?"
The young woman with the Brigid-style tattoo on her face smiled brightly. "It is good to be meeting you, Professor!"
I smiled back. "Wonderful to meet you as well. And that makes you Dorothea?" I said to the young woman in the hat.
"That's right, Professor. I do hope to learn as much as I can here," she said with a wink.
I used a Glamour to hide my blush and swallow. "Well, we're all here to do our best," I replied. "Now, this is a bit of a freeform class. While I will be actively instructing you, it is you who will be setting your goals. Whether that's covering weak spots in your own education, focusing on your strengths, or seeing what tools of my trade suit you best - it will ultimately be up to you what you learn."
"I believe I heard something about theories of spellcraft?" Hubert asked, leaning forward.
I nodded. "I'm actually hoping Petra might be willing to test some of them, if she's willing," I said.
She perked up. "How so?"
"It's my personal theory that the source of faith can alter the spells Faith magic produces. Belief in the Goddess has yielded light-based and defensive spells for the most part. However, due to the spirit worship of your home-" I began.
Petra gazed at me. "You wish to learn the magics of Brigid?" she asked in shock.
I blinked. "Eh?"
"The peoples of Brigid are having - have - powerful curses and are speaking to the spirits of the land. The peoples of Fodlan have little interest in such things, I thought?" Petra elaborated.
I squinted at her. "Why would people want to turn down knowledge? The ability to influence nature itself through Faith magic is fascinating, and your people's Reason magic sounds very similar to the Dark aspect of ours."
"A dangerous position to take, especially here at Garreg Mach," Hubert said smoothly. "Such declarations may get you declared a heretic."
I scowled. "I believe in the Goddess insomuch as I acknowledge she existed. I've come across too much proof to that to ignore it. However, I don't worship her."
Edelgard's eyes sharpened. "How interesting," she remarked.
"However, we have strayed from my point. My theories on Faith and Reason go like this: Reason magic stems from understanding of physical and spiritual forces, and applying rote magic to manipulate them. Faith uses an external anchor to amplify your will to enact change on the world around you." I looked around the room. "The use of the Goddess as an anchor for belief has resulted in an abundance of destructive light-based magic, healing effects, and various protections."
Linhardt hummed as he gazed at me. "How interesting. So you believe that using a different anchor - such as the spirits of Brigid - would yield entirely new branches of Faith magic?"
"Yes. Reason magic is far more diverse thanks to diversity of thought. However, Faith often retreads ground due to Fodlan's hyperfocus on the Goddess as a pillar of strength," I said, gesturing widely. "I believe one such spirit in Brigid is a 'flame spirit', yes?" I directed that part at Petra.
Petra nodded. "Indeed. There is a Flame Spirit, spirits of victory, sea spirits, spirits of the forest…" she trailed off.
"Then why not have Faith magic that sharpens blades, summons flame, calms waves, connects with plants and animals? Finding new sources of faith - new things to believe in - expands a stagnant branch of magic and unleashes countless possibilities!" I said passionately. "To this point, the only constant growth in magic knowledge has been in Reason. Faith's overreliance on one source has hamstrung it, and squandered its potential."
The room was silent.
Linhardt lightly dipped his quill in ink and began to write. "I think I have an idea of what I'd like to study," he said lightly.
I grinned. "And there are other things to learn as well. I'm proficient in illusions and glamours, an established branch of Dark Magic. I can also teach unarmed combat and light arms, as well as tactics in stealth and trickery. And again - if there's something I don't know, I'll find out who does."
"Hand-to-hand, huh?" Caspar asked with an eager glint in his eye. "Not a lot of people here who specialize in that…"
"Illusions?" Bernadetta whispered, speaking up for the first time.
I nodded. "You can make people see what isn't there… or obscure what is. It's a fairly diverse branch of magic."
The young shut-in got a gleam in her eye as she started to write.
Dorothea hummed. "So tell me; what do you usually do in a fight?" she asked.
"I tend to use Glamour to cloak myself from sight and sound, then harrass from the sidelines until there's enough chaos that I can slip in and out to pick off my enemies," I said with a shrug. "It's not my only option, but it's my favorite."
"It has not escaped me that a good deal of your talents lend themselves to underhanded or nefarious deeds," Ferdinand said with a broad smile. "How would those among the Nobility apply such tactics?"
Dorothea shot him an irritated look. "Petra's a princess, and she uses hit-and-run tactics," she said in a polite tone, smile not reaching her eyes.
"Yes, well-" Ferdinand began.
Seeing an oncoming disaster, I decided to cut in. "Well, when you know how certain tactics work, you can come up with counters for them. Even if you don't use them, learning them is still valuable. It's what I told Lorenz yesterday, actually…" I trailed off.
Caspar squinted at me. "So how are you gonna go about teaching us all this?"
"I prefer a mix of theoretical and practical training," I replied. "Don't worry about this being a class all about books."
He grinned. "Just what I wanted to hear! Books aren't… bad…" he forced out, "but I'm more of a do-er than a reader."
"Caspar, if you cast anything more complex than a light spell I'd drop dead of shock," Linhardt said flatly.
"Oh yeah!?" Caspar said loudly.
"Careful Linhardt, or he might just cast 'fist'," I said with an impish grin.
That elicited a giggle from Dorothea and an exasperated shake of Edelgard's head.
"Huh… that sounds pretty cool. I CAST FIST!" Caspar roared, flailing his arms around.
Bernadetta squeaked and ducked behind Ferdinand, shivering in her seat.
"Caspar," I said, clapping my hands together quickly. "You're disturbing your classmates. Dial it back a notch."
He chuckled in embarrassment. "Ehe. Sorry, Prof," he said sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head.
Petra was painstakingly writing a list with her eyes narrowed, mouth moving slightly. I mentally added tutoring her in Fodlan diction to whatever she put down.
...maybe I could learn Brigid...ese? Brigidish? Whatever her country's tongue was called in Fodlan.
The class at large was somehow both more rambunctious than the Deer and less at the same time. Edelgard and Hubert were far less vibrant than Claude and Hilda, but…
I blinked as Bernadetta shakily raised her hand. I walked over next to her around the side of the classroom.
"Eek! Sorry, I just-" she said, waving her hands.
I shook my head. "It's fine. I just wanted to make sure we could hear each other without yelling."
"O-oh. Um… how would someone go about learning Glamour?" She got a faraway look on her face. "Going around without anyone looking at you or hearing you…"
"If you want to learn, just write it down," I said warmly. "It'll take work, but if you're willing to put forth the effort, I'll do my best to teach you." I paused. "That said, what if you want to be seen?"
"Huh?" Bernadetta asked with wide eyes.
"There's plenty of decent people here at the monastery. Some are even in your class," I joked. "Is it really so impossible that you might find a friend whose company you enjoy?"
Bernadetta worried her lip. "That's…"
"It's food for thought," I said gently. "If you want to remain alone, that's a choice too. But… don't dismiss it out of hand, alright?"
I looked up and Dorothea caught my eye.
She was giving me a pensive look as she watched my interaction with Bernadetta.
I looked back down at the young noble, and she was deep in thought.
"Is there anything else I can do to help?" I asked her.
She jolted. "Er! No, no thanks." She gave me a shaky smile. "I'll just… get back to writing."
Ferdinand sighed loudly. "I apologize, but it seems you have nothing here I wish to learn," he said in a forlorn tone.
I rubbed my chin. "Well, Byleth is good at battalion command if that's your thing. And Seteth said he'd help with weapon instruction past brawling, so he could help with your weapon of choice."
"Neither of which you specialize in," Ferdinand continued.
"He said he could get you instruction from Professor Byleth and the Archbishop's right hand," Hubert said icily. "And merely because you refuse to make use of his other forms of expertise does not necessarily mean a deficiency in his teaching, which you seem to be implying."
I blinked at Hubert's vehement defense of me. "Ah?"
"Professor, after Edelgard's emphasis that you were a mighty warrior I had expected someone… different," Ferdinand admitted with some chagrin.
I shrugged. "Byleth's the one who charges into battle and turns the enemy into paste. I end threats."
Bernadetta let out a small squeak at the proclamation, staring at me.
"Ah… sorry?" I said sheepishly.
"Don't apologize, Professor," Dorothea said in a too-sweet tone. "If someone isn't 'noble' enough, Ferdie doesn't pay them too much mind. His loss, though!" she said with a wink.
Caspar hummed as he leaned over his paper. "Fistfighting… uh… what else…" he grumbled.
"I'm good with knives and know a little swordplay," I said as I made my way over. I looked back at Bernadetta, who seemed to have calmed down again. I flashed her a grin, and she gave a wobbly smile in return.
"Eh… I'm more of a straightforward guy. Axes, gauntlets, that kind of thing," Caspar said, gesturing.
"Hm. How's your footwork?" I asked.
"Eh?" Caspar blinked at me.
"Footwork. If you're going in with gauntlets, timing, reading your opponent, and reflexes are key," I lectured. "Because of the reduced range, you have to learn to close with your enemy because they certainly won't let you. Especially if they have a mid-range weapon like a lance."
"Ooh. Good point!" he said, scribbling away.
I hummed. "I can also work on your strengths and we can try to find new applications for what you already know. An extra set of eyes goes a long way for refining one's skills," I said to the class.
Petra nodded. "I see. Professor, are you knowing anything of flying? While Professor Manuela has skill, I am wishing to learn more in my time outside of class."
I grinned. "I'm decent at it, even if Manuela has more experience."
"Ooh. You and Professor Manuela are on those kind of terms?" Dorothea said teasingly.
I rubbed the back of my neck. "Kind of? We're both teachers, so addressing her as 'Professor' seems redundant."
"Still, Professor, given you are so much younger than the other faculty-" Ferdinand began.
"I've completed my list," Hubert said coolly.
I wandered over and he handed me the paper.
Poisons, presence elimination, detection, Reason spellcrafting…
"Pretty comprehensive," I said approvingly. I'd noticed him following at a distance yesterday, but since he never got close enough to hear anything compromising I decided to let it be.
"Will there be anything else today, Professor?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Mostly I wanted to get a handle on you guys' personalities and goals," I explained. "With this information, I'll be able to get plans in place for proper instruction." I raised Hubert's list, text facing me. "Hence these."
"Have you taught elsewhere before?" Ferdinand asked with a small frown.
"Nope!" I said cheerfully.
Dorothea giggled. "How… honest of you, Professor."
I shrugged. "I'm going to do my best, and if nothing else you guys will learn something in here."
"Hey, I'm already looking forward to it!" Caspar said eagerly.
Edelgard rested her chin in her hand as she set her elbow on the table. "History."
I blinked at her.
"You can speak to the dead, yes? Then you have several insights into the history of Fodlan that our scholars could never access," she elaborated.
The class' attention focused back on me.
"Y-you can talk to g-g-g-" Bernadetta stammered.
"They don't really exist for anyone else, but yes," I said firmly.
Bernadetta blinked. "Huh?"
"In order to affect the material plane, ghosts need to have a bond to what they want to change. The person who killed them, a loved one, an object of importance… it's a short list. If it's the latter two options, ghost influence materializes as an uptick of good luck or flood of positive emotion, more often than not," I explained, waving my arms gently. "In the former, or even in people they simply have a powerful grudge against, influence manifests as ill luck or an onslaught of negative emotions."
"O-oh. Okay," Bernadetta said, relaxing a little.
"Can speaking with the dead be taught?" Linhardt asked, focusing on me. His eyes were clearer than they had been since he'd arrived.
I shook my head. "That power is tied directly to my Crest, and cannot be shared."
"A Crest tied to the dead? What sort of lineage is that?" Ferdinand said, baffled.
"It's of no surprise that you're uninformed, given the importance was to be downplayed. The Archbishop confirmed the existence of a sixth apocryphal Saint known as the Guide of the Dead - Emyth'solan." Edelgard turned to face the rest of the class.
I coughed. "That being said, I've met a few figures from history that lingered so… I can explain a few things, if they're of interest. I don't know everything, but I have some awareness."
Ferdinand gave me an appraising look. "How interesting! I think I'd like that," he said as he began to write on his paper.
Edelgard turned back around and gave me a small smile.
"The Crest of Emyth'solan…" Linhardt mused. "How interesting."
"So are you a noble?" Dorothea asked, surprised.
I shook my head. "No land, no real family. I've been with Jeralt's Mercs since I was small. Rhea and I share some blood according to a history, but past that it's ambiguous."
Petra made a thoughtful noise. "If you are being with Jeralt and his company for that long, are they not being your family?"
I grinned. "Pops and Byleth are pretty much it. Talking to dead people doesn't earn acclaim, unfortunately."
"How short-sighted," Hubert scoffed. "The intelligence value alone is incredible, neglecting the less practical applications."
I shrugged. "Mercs don't tend to have much interest besides coin, fighting, drinking, and wenching. Or… what's the version of wenching that's aimed at men?" I wondered aloud.
"Perhaps we should leave it at 'wenching' and not try to consider it overmuch," Edelgard replied with a slight grimace.
Caspar gave me a long look. "So… you have some kind of mystery Crest, and made your way by fighting?"
"Kind of? My Crest does affect my magic a bit. It lets me cast more and with greater strength sometimes. Mostly it's the whole 'speak with dead' bit, though." I scratched the back of my head.
"Even so, that's pretty cool! Wandering around, kicking butt, taking names… wonder what kind of knight you'd be?" Caspar said.
Hubert sneered. "No knight at all. He'd be put to far better use as a tactician, assassin, or spy."
The bell rang in the distance, and my ears twitched as the sound of yelling carried over the din.
"Well," I said, "that's the first class. It was good to meet you all, and I'll have a syllabus for you next week. I'll be sure to take your commentary into account!"
I walked around and collected the Eagles' papers - each had several lines of goals to meet, but thankfully more than a few overlapped.
As I reached to pick up Dorothea's, she stood up and leaned near me.
"Eh?" I said intelligently.
"So I was in the market yesterday and… I just wanted to commend you. Not a lot of people, noble or otherwise, would have gotten between Sylvain and one of his girls. I was wondering, would you be free for dinner sometime?" She looked me in the eye with that coy, playful smile of hers.
I didn't have the presence of mind to Glamour my blush away this time. "Uh. Yes? Sometime? This week, I think," I stammered out. "I have plans today, but-"
Dorothea gave a wink as her smile widened. "That's fine! Today would be pretty short notice for me too. How about… tomorrow?"
"Y-yes?"
Smooth, Mith. Real smooth.
"Excellent! It's a date!" Dorothea said with bubbly cheer. "I'll meet you at the dining hall then. See you, Professor!" She strode off, nabbing Petra by the arm with a brilliant smile as the two walked out.
I blinked owlishly. "Buh?"
"Have a care, Professor. You've less scrutiny of that sort as an adjunct, but Dorothea does not stay still for long," Hubert said as he strode up to me.
I held onto the papers. "I. Yes, of course," I said quickly.
Edelgard cleared her throat. "She's looking for a husband, so whatever your intentions, be clear."
I nodded, then shook my head to clear out the cobwebs. "Good grief," I said exasperatedly. "Is she always like that? It felt like getting caught in a hurricane."
Edelgard tilted her head. "I met her a few weeks ago at the start of term, so I honestly cannot say," she responded. Her eyes narrowed. "Did you get the letter?"
I nodded. "I did. Tea, then?"
Edelgard inclined her head. "I'm quite interested in this piece of history, Professor. I hope you can answer my questions about it," she said with a small smile.
"I'll do my best to deliver," I responded in all seriousness.
____________________________________________________________________________
The yelling stayed on the other side of the monastery, so I decided to pay it no mind as I seated myself.
"Ooh, Adrestian pastries," I said with glee. The thick, bready baked goods with jelly in the center were my favorites.
"Please, help yourself," Edelgard said pleasantly. "Hubert will be serving the tea momentarily."
I picked one up. No conventional poisons, or the rarer ones I was familiar with, that I could sense. I bit into it, and savored the sweet taste.
"It occurs to me that we know very little about you, Professor," Edelgard said as I enjoyed the snack.
I waved a hand. "I'm off the job and we're of an age. Call me Mith."
"Very well," Edelgard said in a pleased tone.
"Bergamot, as you requested," Hubert said as he approached with the pot.
No discoloration on the cups, and the tea… well, I'd see after he poured.
The dark liquid flowed into the cups, not a single drop spilling out.
I glanced at the spoon near my cup. No issues there.
"I assure you, if we intended to poison you it wouldn't be in such a private setting after so many saw us enter. It would be far too easy to identify the perpetrator," Hubert said with mild amusement.
I felt my lips quirk up. "Force of habit. I don't like eating things I don't personally prepare without checking thoroughly."
"Wise," Hubert remarked as he served himself from another pot and sat.
I perked up at the familiar smell. "Coffee?"
He regarded me for a moment. "Yes, I prefer it to tea."
I nodded. "Fair enough. It has more of a kick than tea does and keeps one awake longer. Makes sense."
Hubert merely smirked and took a drink.
"So then," Edelgard said. "We are as secure here in my room as it is possible to be. Hubert has taken precautions as well."
I flicked a hand at the door and window, and both shimmered.
"Glamour?" Hubert inquired.
"Yep. It doubles as a sound baffle as well. If anyone tries to listen in, they'll merely get inane conversation, while we can hear what's going on outside," I explained.
Hubert's eyebrows raised. "I see. Creative."
"So. The Heroes' Relics," Edelgard said after a moment.
I grimaced. "Those atrocities."
She leaned forward. "What are they, that you are so disturbed by them? All who have one carry it as a badge of pride, as much as their Crests."
I stared at my tea and took a sip. "Forgive me. It's painful to speak on, so I need a moment," I said quietly.
Hubert folded his hands before him. "We have the evening set aside. We've all the time in the world," he said ominously.
"The blades are dragonbone," I said, looking Edelgard in the eye.
"And your people are dragons," she surmised, eyes narrowing.
"Those blades? Are what's left of my people," I responded.
Her eyes widened.
"The weapons, shield, and gem were made from our bones. The Crest Stones are our hearts, calcified and turned into engines to power the weapons." I didn't look away.
"That doesn't make sense. How would Crests themselves matter to their operation, if they have such great power already?" Hubert questioned.
"They also… hold the souls of those used to make them," I admitted. "I was near Rafail once and nearly killed her bearer. Emile forgave me, but…" I shook my head, closing my eyes. "If I get within feet of them, I can hear the screams. The Crests harmonize with the weapons, preventing them from taking over and spilling the regret of the betrayed into the world. The tangible forms are… You know the tale of Maurice?"
"He turned into a Beast," Edelgard responded quietly.
"Blutgang's Crest didn't rest easily within him; they were too different. And so Blutgang's regrets, hatred, and pain overwhelmed him. Thus the Beast. The same would be said of any of them who someone tried to wield without the right Crest." I stared into the middle distance.
I could still hear the screaming.
"Mith…" Edelgard said softly.
"The Crests were stolen too. The Elites', at least. Seiros, Cethleann, Cichol, Macuil, and Indech gave theirs as gifts to their allies. Blood infusions as a reward for turning on Nemesis, who stole everything from us. The Crest of Flames was made of the blood of the Goddess, his blade from her spine. They go by names such as Gautier, Blaiddyd, and Gloucester now. Not Fragarach, Areadbahr, or Thyrsus." I kept staring. "The Agarthans took everything from us, for the sake of their own hubris."
Edelgard's eyes narrowed. "Hubris?"
"I heard… I wasn't alive at the time, you understand. But I've spoken to those who were. Agartha was advanced. Their technology was peerless. Sadly, this was not merely infrastructure and medicine - so too were they unmatched at making weapons of war. They fought each other, and then turned their sights on the Goddess. They launched an attack here, at Garreg Mach, but it was turned aside." I shook my head. "Thus Ailell. The weapon scarred the land that badly."
Edelgard worried her lip.
"Seiros led a purge - she was unrestrained, as were the Agarthans. The land was decimated, and humans vanished from Fodlan, save for small pockets of survivors. For years unto decades unto centuries, the Goddess spent her power reviving the land. Then she made her last child, and went to sleep. Time passed, and the Agarthans faded into memory for Nabateans. They lived in Zanado, near the Holy Tomb where the Goddess Slept."
"The Red Canyon," Hubert replied with narrowed eyes.
I swallowed, hard. "There were survivors. Most weren't there. Seiros, Cichol, Athlea, Cethleann, Indech, Macuil. Those were some who were abroad. Emyth'solan was young enough to be hidden and survive the carnage of the bandit king, who had been seduced by the remnants of Agartha. To see and pass on the knowledge of what the Relics were."
"You bear his crest," Edelgard said slowly.
"Emyth'solan is long gone from Fodlan," I replied. "But yes, I do."
Edelgard sat back, eyes staring down.
"If one looks at the situation… then the Relics both came from the Goddess, and were made by human hands. Perspectives, yeah?" I said in a soft, bitter tone. "I hate them."
Hubert hummed. "If true, this changes everything we've ever known. About Crests, Relics, possibly even the Church itself. Why would Seiros see her kind so desecrated, even after the war?"
I shook my head. "Dunno."
Edelgard looked up. "Mith."
I met her eyes.
"I cannot say if I believe you. This story is… immense in scope. Even if only for what it means in regards to… many things. However, I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt for this." She looked to Hubert and nodded. "I have come into some information regarding clandestine activities in Faerghus. I have also heard of the fate of Count Varley's heir. It is unlikely the news will reach Bernadetta for some weeks, given the speed of conventional messengers."
I blinked. "Eh?"
"You have given the information you promised. Now all I need is to verify it," Edelgard said coolly. "If it is so… then a great many things I knew to be true were not, and other things I feared are true. I cannot say for sure, but too much of what you've said makes sense based on the evidence of my own eyes and my own learning. But I must be sure." She shook her head. "In regards to this," she said, taking the dossier from Hubert, "it is the first step in repaying you for your efforts." She handed the sheaf of papers to me.
"...what do you intend to do?" I asked.
"I won't insult you and claim innocence. However, I cannot trust you enough to divulge my plans at this stage, especially as you've neatly thrown them into flux." Edelgard folded her hands in her lap. "I will observe you and a great many other factors. As you said, we have a year for me to make any crucial decisions." She gave me a terse smile, her mask fully falling for the first time. "But you have your foot in the door. My options have grown since before this conversation, and for that I thank you. If I must move against you, I will do you the courtesy of informing you beforehand."
I leaned back. "I see." I gave her a tired smile. "I hope it doesn't come to that."
"Afraid?" Hubert inquired. There wasn't any taunt in his voice.
I shook my head. "No. I just don't think you guys are the bad guys."
"Then who do you think is the villain of this piece?" Edelgard asked, gazing at me.
I bared my teeth. "We both know who they are, Edelgard. I know the signs of blood contract overdose, and how painful the process is."
Her face was wiped clean of emotion. "I see."
"I have my own plans concerning Lysithea von Ordelia, assuming no one else interferes first. Hanneman might be able to save her, or…" I trailed off.
"Or?" Edelgard said in a calm tone.
"My Crest has many secrets that were passed to me," I said firmly. "One might save her. I'll have to see."
Edelgard slightly inclined her head. "I wish you the best of luck," she said coolly.
"It goes without saying that anything revealed among us is to be treated with the utmost discretion," Hubert said calmly. "However, I do believe we can create a… working arrangement."
"I concur," Edelgard said. "There are many opponents of mine in the Empire who are abhorrent enough to warrant your attention. Few allies boast the same status." She crossed her arms. "Removing those pieces from the board would be rewarded, if you chose to accept the commissions."
I smirked. "Cleaning house of asshole nobles with possible links to those dastards? I can do that."
"Those who slither in the dark are a vicious opponent," Hubert said. "If they ask us about your movements…"
"Just say this is what I would have done long ago if Jeralt didn't have my leash. Rhea would gladly aim me at them if she knew where to aim," I explained.
Edelgard nodded. "I see." She sighed. "Though I'm unsure of helping Rhea in any regard."
I scratched the back of my head. "I have her ear now. That alliance may not be as far-fetched as you think."
Edelgard's lips quirked humorlessly. "I have time to observe the truth of that. Still, you've dealt honestly with me here, so I will leave it on the table."
I sighed and nodded. Then I perked up. "So!"
Both of them blinked at me.
I grinned. "This is entirely too somber. Tell me about yourselves! Let's get to know each other!"
Hubert gave a dark chuckle. "Are you sure? Our childhoods weren't sweetness and light, you know."
I shrugged. "I want to get to know you guys better."
Edelgard's smile gained a bit more honesty. "I suppose a little chit-chat wouldn't hurt."
My grin widened. "Sounds good!"
____________________________________________________________________________
As I made to go, I paused. "There's one or two more things I'd like to mention," I said before I dropped the Glamour.
"Yes?" Edelgard said.
"First, a warning. I'm not sure if you know, but Arundel isn't who he says he is." I gazed firmly at Edelgard.
"...I had my suspicions," she said calmly.
"He was killed and replaced," I explained. "It's how I knew to approach you in the first place."
Her eyes shot wide, and her mouth dropped open.
Hubert's head whipped towards me. "What?" he rasped.
"It's… what they do. Tomas, Cornelia, Arundel… they were real people. Then they were killed, and the Agarthans are masters of biological
manipulation. Applying a flesh-mask of the deceased is child's play," I said quietly.
"I thought… but he…" Edelgard's eyes were wide, still.
"The second piece of information is for your own plans. The Agarthans were behind the Tragedy of Duscur. This you know," I said. "What you have over them is that you can play as though you were coerced, and feed this information to Dimitri. He gave you that dagger, he still views you as - well. If not family, then still precious." I inclined my head. "With the right words and deeds, you could have the Kingdom at your backs should you take the fight to Thales and his ilk."
"And of my own agenda?" Edelgard said softly. She pulled the dagger out and looked at it before returning her gaze to me.
I rubbed my chin. "I honestly don't know. Vengeance aside, Dimitri seems to be a kind man. Stopping the abuses inherent to the Crest system would appeal to him, if not the violence you believe required."
"This is valuable information indeed," Hubert said, eyes glittering darkly. "What form of repayment are you expecting?"
I looked to Edelgard. "Whatever you choose, get to know Dimitri before choosing it. Let him factor into your decisions. Both in terms of utility and whatever sentiment comes to pass."
"...you wish me to befriend him?" she said, openly baffled.
"I'm saying to rekindle that bond. If you plan on taking on those who slither regardless, you could play your cards right and align with him however things fall. If you do it right," I stressed.
Hubert chuckled. "How very odd of you."
I shrugged. "Dimitri gets his revenge and maybe some peace, the culture that perpetrated genocide on my people gets wiped out, and Fodlan ends up in a better place at your hands. I have other plans of course, but I think this is enough for now."
"I agree," Edelgard said finally, putting the dagger away. Her eyes were clear. "You've given me much to think on." Her lips quirked again. "Thank you, Mith."
I released the Glamours. "Thank you both for the tea and conversation. Let's do it again sometime, yeah?" I said brightly.
Hubert nodded with a smirk. "I look forward to it."
I opened the door.
"HONK HONK HONK"
"DAMN BIRD!" Catherine roared as she charged by.
The three of us stared as the Golden Deer stampeded after Catherine, followed by Byleth. Flayn brought up the rear, panting dreadfully.
"...you got any cool water on hand? Flayn looks beat," I said faintly.
Edelgard pressed a glass and a jug into my hands. "Go tend her," she said in a distracted tone.
I wandered out to Flayn, who had doubled over, panting heavily.
"Hey cousin," I said softly.
She looked up. "O-oh. Greetings," she wheezed. "This has been quite some exertion."
I offered her the cup of water.
"Blessings upon you, Mith," she gasped before tilting the cup to her lips.
"Slow sips, Flayn," Edelgard said, having come out behind us.
Flayn did so, listening. After she was done, she let out a long breath. "Oh! That is so much better," she said with a smile. "Thank you both."
"...so why's a Holy Knight chasing a…" Something clicked in my head. "Goose."
"The goose stole Thunderbrand and hid it! The Professor believes he can lead us to it if we catch him!" Flayn explained.
"Of course he did," I groaned.
"Mith?" Edelgard asked.
I felt Hubert's eyes on me from the doorway.
"Mac's my Familiar. He comes and goes," I explained.
Flayn's eyes lit up. "Yes, I was told of that," she said brightly. "As well as your adverse reactions to Heroes' Relics. He must also be aware, and so secured it in a place you would not be!"
Edelgard's eyes narrowed. "A Hero's Relic?"
"Ah, yes. They have a… complicated history, so they do not engage well with Mith's Crest," she said evasively.
Edelgard relaxed. "I see."
Arundel shot me a victorious smirk as he emerged from the wall near us. "You've got her, boy. She won't admit it until the final moment, but that sort of correlation? She'll investigate and then some."
"So your Familiar is… a goose." Edelgard's voice dripped with disbelief.
I shrugged. "Familiars are rare, so you take what you can get. In my case? A horrible goose."
The honking came back up the hall, followed by raucous yelling.
"Aha! I shall catch him now!" Flayn said triumphantly.
A white blur shot over her head, and I felt my eyes widen.
"Edel, help!" I yelped as I latched onto Flayn and pulled.
Edelgard pulled both of us back into her room just before Catherine flew by.
"Thanks," I wheezed.
"Anytime, Mith," Edelgard said in an amused tone.
Mac flew overhead again, shooting over the Golden Deer until he was lodged in a black, tarry substance.
"Please retrieve your familiar," Hubert said dryly.
I grinned at the retainer. "Thanks to you too."
He smirked. "So long as it is in aid of Lady Edelgard," he said smoothly.
"I caught him!" Flayn said triumphantly as she gripped Mac's orange feet, now dangling off the ground.
"Oh brother," I sighed tiredly.
Mac hung in midair, suspended by the Dark Magic.
"HONK."
____________________________________________________________________________
"So. Your familiar is a goose." Claude was in surprisingly good spirits.
I nodded tiredly.
"You alright?" he asked.
"Did a Question and Answer session with Edelgard. Tired."
Claude gave a sympathetic grunt. "I bet. Her highness is one tough cookie."
Lysithea gave a pathetic wheeze from where she sat at the dinner table, face pressed to the wood.
"You going to be okay?" I asked.
"I'll survive… somehow…" she whispered.
"Maybe an early night tonight?" I suggested.
She slowly turned her head to stare at me.
"It's a thought?"
"...perhaps," she allowed.
Claude stiffened next to me. "No. Way."
I turned to follow his gaze and felt my shoulders droop. "Oh."
Somehow, Mac had found a chef's hat and was carrying a frying pan in his beak.
"I need that," a tall man from Duscur said. He had ornate earrings, and was very broad in the shoulder.
Mac gave a muffled honk and began to waddle towards me.
"Please return it," he said, walking slowly in pursuit.
I stared as Mac set the frying pan in front of me, with its contents.
"Thanks," I choked out.
"HONK."
He turned one beady eye on me, and blinked.
I gave an exhausted sigh as the tall man plated my food and took the pan.
"Thank you…?" I said slowly.
"Dedue. I'm in the Blue Lions House. I believe we will be attending your class tomorrow?" The tall man gave me an inquisitive look.
Mac waddled off.
"Yeah, looks like. So you're in Mercedes and Felix's House?" Oh, right! I'd heard of him! "And Dimitri's, then," I mused.
Dedude nodded with a small upturn of his lips. "I am in service to his highness as a vassal."
"Interesting," Claude remarked. "I thought Faerghus and Duscur had some bad blood?" he asked.
Dedue gazed steadily at him. "Our people-"
"Are discriminated against for a regicide they aren't at fault for," I said tartly.
Claude's eyes locked on me. "You sure about that?"
I snorted. "Which one of us speaks to dead people on a regular basis?" I sighed. "Though the king's been kind of quiet lately…" I muttered.
Dedue stiffened. "You… spoke to his highness' father?" he said in awe. "Word has spread of your Crest, but…"
"He's around, and really worried. Dimitri's taking on burdens that aren't his to bear," I said frankly.
Well, while I was at it…
"Dedue, I have a mission for you, should you choose to accept it," I said firmly.
The giant of a man gazed down at me. "I'm listening."
"The former king worries greatly for his son. So, since you're closer to him than I am, I want you to watch over him and curtail his more destructive habits and impulses."
Dedue's eyes lowered slightly. "He is haunted by what happened that day," Dedue said softly.
I drummed my fingers on the table. "I don't think he is in a literal sense - the two spirits around him who spoke to me both love him, and should be providing him with strength. Something's up."
"Two?" Dedue asked.
"A knight who gave his life to protect Dimitri. He cares for him as a younger brother, still," I said gently.
Dedue nodded. "I see."
"I want what's best for him too, Dedue. So… keep doing what you're doing and tell him no when he's hurting himself, yeah?" I scratched the back of my head.
Dedue gave a small smile. "I will take your wishes into account." He looked at Claude. "Claude…"
"Hey, I'm not going to mess with someone who's grieving and isn't coming after me and mine. I have no problem with Dimitri unless he makes one," Claude said in a cocksure tone.
Dedue looked to me.
"I trust him," I said simply.
Claude leaned on my shoulder. "Aww. You might make me think you like me or something," he teased.
"That too," I said off-handedly.
Dedue gave a chuckle. "I should get his highness his dinner. I will see you tomorrow."
He wandered off, and I turned to my food.
"Is this seat taken?"
I blinked up at Edelgard. "Uh. It's free?"
Lysithea opened an eye. "Forgive my impudence, but I'm exhausted."
Edelgard sat. "It is no matter. I heard the Deer had an exciting day, so a minor breach in decorum is to be expected."
"Tell me about it. That goose descended from the heavens like a messenger of the Goddess, stole Thunderbrand, hid it, and gave Catherine herself the fight of her life," Claude griped. He leaned in. "I swear to you Edelgard, that goose used wind magic! Wind magic!"
Edelgard raised a delicate eyebrow. "Did he now?"
I shrugged. "Once when I was about to get stabbed by a lucky bandit, Mac used an Excalibur spell to shred him with a tornado."
Both Lords stared at me.
"...your eyes and mouth say truth, but my brain's rebelling," Claude said flatly.
"It took a Mire spell from Hubert to slow the creature down, and it still didn't hurt it. I'll believe Mith for now," Edelgard responded.
"Point," Claude agreed.
"Erm. May I join you all?" Flayn asked, approaching with her plate.
Edelgard motioned next to her. "Please, sit. You've had a trying day as well."
Flayn smiled happily. "Thank you!" She quickly seated herself.
Lysithea struggled upwards, rubbing her eyes.
"You going to be okay, Lysithea?" Claude asked.
"I'll live," she grumped.
"Have a care for your constitution Lysithea," Edelgard cautioned. "You have many strengths, but sustained physical activity is not one of them."
Lysithea sighed. "It would seem to be the case," she groused. She picked at her food.
"Food's fuel," I said pointedly. "You'll feel better after a light meal and an early bed. Also water."
The mage shook her head. "I know, I'm just tired," she replied.
"Right, we'll stop our worrying," I said apologetically.
She shook her head again. "Your concern isn't unwelcome. I appreciate it. Again…"
"I understand Lysithea," Flayn commiserated. "I too am spent from a day of running about."
"So… Duscur didn't cause the Tragedy," Claude said after a moment of quiet. "Who did?"
I looked him in the eye. "The people who killed my family," I said coolly.
He frowned slightly. "I see."
Edelgard ate calmly. "They must be rather terrible," she said, obviously fishing for answers.
"They have much to answer for. My ancestors, my family, the royal family of Faerghus, and many others have suffered at their hands. They consider humans to be little more than beasts," I said with a frown.
Edelgard gave a thoughtful frown. "To be responsible for all that… it seems that must be true," she admitted.
Flayn nodded. "Truly, those behind such acts are beyond salvation or forgiveness." She frowned. "You are certain they caused that slaughter?"
I nodded once.
"Who knows?" Flayn asked. "We should inform Lady Rhea at once if she does not, and Dimitri deserves the truth - the Tragedy took his family, yes?"
"That is indeed the case," Edelgard responded. She prodded her food. "We will have to broach the matter delicately. I believe the Tragedy has left its scars on him."
Claude looked at me, and I nodded. "Alright," he said. "So what's the plan?"
"Plan?" Edelgard echoed.
"If these guys did all that, they're obviously not going to stop there. And so long as they're moving around, they're going to keep lashing out at Fodlan until they get what they want," Claude continued.
"Chaos. They want war to consume Fodlan, so they pit factions, families, and countries against one another. Their key desire is the end of the human race so they can reclaim their place in the sun," I said honestly.
Lysithea gripped her utensil tightly. "I see," she said quietly.
Edelgard gave me a long look. "I think that subject came up earlier, but you neglected to mention that," she said off-handedly.
I shrugged. "I felt it was self-evident, so didn't think I needed to elucidate."
She shook her head. "Well, now I know. There's much to consider."
Flayn gave a sad sigh. "I know the subject is important, but I would like to speak of lighter things," she admitted.
Lysithea perked up. "I managed the beginnings of Glamour, I think," she said with some excitement.
I stared. "In one day?" I said flatly.
She flushed. "Well… I just changed the color of the air for a moment. Nothing large, but it was progress," she admitted.
"It's a start," I praised. "It took me a while to get that far, but I also started from scratch."
Claude gave a low whistle. "Nice work, girl genius," he said with a grin.
"Claude…" Lysithea growled.
"It's a commendable effort, Lysithea. Truly worthy of praise," Edelgard said firmly.
"Indeed! Bravo!" Flayn cheered.
Lysithea blushed a little. "...thank you," she said with a small smile.
Flayn hummed. "I caught a Bullhead today, before we went on the chase after Mac! It was a good size, too."
"Nice! Hey Edelgard, how did your first class with Little Teach go?" Claude asked.
"Mith gave us options to set goals, and we touched a bit on his ideas for Faith magic. I think Petra may try to work with you on that," Edelgard said, turning her attention to me.
I took notice of Byleth as she wandered over and sat next to Flayn.
"Keep talking," she said with a tiny smirk. "We're also getting company."
Felix stalked over, Mercedes close behind him.
"Oh! So many people!" Mercedes said happily.
"Mercedes, yes?" Edelgard said.
"Right! It's nice to meet you, Edelgard," she replied.
"Ugh. It's a bit crowded, but no one intolerable's here," Felix said dryly.
"High praise," Lysithea said in a similar tone.
"From him it kind of is," I admitted with a grin.
Felix snorted in amusement as he sat down. "I look forward to your teaching tomorrow, Mith," he said. "I think a good portion of our class does as well."
"It's interesting," Edelgard said with a small smile.
"Hey, the Deer are hyped for next week. Then we can really get started," Claude said with a wink.
Mercedes gave a gentle smile. "I'll be glad for whatever knowledge you can share."
Byleth shook her head. "I'll have to step my game up to keep my students in awe of me," she said flatly.
"Nah, you're good Teach. You're impressive in a whole other way. Little Teach is like the 'fun friend' professor, while you're the 'awesome and experienced' professor," Claude said easily.
I frowned a little. "Really, Claude?"
"That does seem to be the case," Edelgard said apologetically. "It isn't a lack of respect, but… you feel a little more relatable, which does impact your authority."
"What authority?" Felix snarked.
Flayn gasped. "How dare you? Mith is quite authoritarian! Wait, that's not…" she trailed off with a frown.
Lysithea shook her head. "I think you mean authoritative, Flayn."
"Yes!"
Mercedes giggled. "Well now I'm definitely looking forward to tomorrow!"
"SON OF A BITCH!"
I jolted, and saw Mac dashing by, wings raised as he waddled with a mad gleam of victory in his eye.
Catherine followed just behind him, the remains of her dinner clinging to her shin guard.
"HONK, HONK, HONK!"
I turned back to the table.
"Hey, I've done enough chasing for one day," Claude said, crossing his arms in front of him.
"Seconded," Lysithea said weakly.
"Accord," Flayn replied with a small frown.
"The motion is carried," Byleth said with finality.
Mercedes covered her smile with a hand as Felix shook his head with a grin.
Then we all froze at what most would have called an impossible sound.
Everyone turned to watch Edelgard as she giggled into her fist, eyes scrunched up in amusement.
I felt my mouth turn up in a genuine smile.
____________________________________________________________________________
Macuil resumed his true form - a tall man with elegant features, a clean-shaven face, and curling dark green hair. He wore tan robes and a pointed hat of the same color.
He watched over his youngest brother as he slept, face slack with the absence of dreams.
"It is good to see you again, brother," Seiros said as she sat next to him in a chair.
"I suppose I missed the lot of you as well," he remarked. "Indech might join us here soon."
Seiros - no, Rhea now - smiled beatifically. "Our whole family in the same place. It has been too long."
Macuil snorted. "Once our family would not have all fit here, with all of these humans," he grumbled. "But I will tolerate them, for your sakes."
Rhea nodded sadly. Then her gaze firmed. "Must you torment Catherine so?"
Macuil gave her a long look. "Perhaps."
She sighed. "I will order her to keep Thunderbrand sealed while at Garreg Mach. There is no reason for Mith to be exposed to him more than necessary. Rafail is already treated as such by Emile - I think he knows part of the truth, at least."
Macuil pursed his lips. "I suppose I can… ease up a bit." He smirked. "Perhaps I will spread my fun around."
Rhea gave him a flat look. "Leave Bernadetta von Varley be. And…" she trailed off. "I am trying to decide who else would take badly to the hijinks. Mith would disapprove of true harm to his charges."
Macuil shrugged. "I was mostly going to entertain myself with your knights. The loud ones are the most amusing," he said with a cruel smirk.
"...you intend to stay transformed," Rhea said faintly.
Macuil spread his arms. "The goose is loose," he said grandly.
She stared at her brother. "Truly, Mith has been a poor influence on you," she stated.
Macuil preened. "I daresay I've had my own impact on the lad," he said haughtily.
Rhea sighed. "I'll leave you to your vigil. At least keep the chaos from anything dangerous, yes?"
She looked over to see the white goose scramble into Mith's bed and curl up next to him on top of the covers.
"Goddess protect us all," Rhea muttered as she left for the evening, quietly closing the door and locking it.
Macuil gave a single, slow blink as he thought of the myriad ways to entertain himself the next day.
To Do: Infiltrate Garreg Mach Long-Term.
Accomplished.
