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Fire Emblem: Three Houses OC Fix-fic.

The youngest of the Children of the Goddess, made with some unusual ingredients (and help) survives Zanado, up until the battle of Seiros and Nemesis. Cue thousand-year dirtnap, interrupted by one Byleth Eisner.

He does weird magic, and can see/talk to dead people. It's great. Now if only TWSITD would leave him alone...

Starts at game start, references to past events. Butterflies from the word go.

Co-Protag is chaotic bi repressed depressed irreverent murder machine.

F!Byleth is done with his shit as of eight years ago.
1. White Clouds: After the Encounter

Blinktwice13

Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
Location
Eastern US
Pronouns
He/Him
A/N: My Fate/Worm fic is still going; this just literally wouldn't leave me alone so I dropped it all in Google Docs. Amendment: I'm going to keep working on this alongside my other project. It turned out to be more fun to write than I bargained for.
__________________________________________________

Byleth was a listless person. She didn't emote, but she was capable of emotion.

She had never been closer to a screaming fit than she was then.

"Wh… what…?" the boy in yellow - Claude - stammered out.

It was like something out of a horror tale. Blood coated the ground in a thick paint, mangled pieces of bandit strewn here and there.

There were survivors - women and children in rags, kept for purposes Byleth had a slight inkling of but no desire to ruminate on.

The leader, who they had pursued, was flat on his back.

His head was distinctly absent from his shoulders.

Of course, none of this was the source of her ire.

No, that was the cat-sized, four-winged dragon that sat on the (former) bandit leader's chest.

It looked for all the world like a dragon in miniature, save for the four bat wings from its back. Tiny purple eyes, black scales, a sinuous body - it would have been a picture of menace if it wouldn't have weighed twenty pounds soaking wet.

If he wouldn't have weighed twenty pounds soaking wet.

"Er… what is… what happened here?" the blonde boy asked. Dimitri, if she recalled. Right now, Byleth was trying not to strangle the miniature dragon that was undoubtedly the source of the carnage.

It chirruped.

"...did you come to save us?" one of the women said in a shaky voice. "We… we were held captive, and-"

The dragonling hopped off of the corpse, and waddled off behind a broken-down tent.

"That little one can't have done all of this," the white-haired girl said coolly. Edelgard. That she remembered.

"Actually, he can. Mith is tied with me for second strongest in our group," Byleth said in her usual flat affect.

"...Mith?"

The wyrmling dragged a large sack out from behind the tent. It clanked with each tug, no doubt full of ill-gotten goods. He squawked as he let it go.

"What?" Claude said, still in shock.

"Stop trying to be cute," Byleth said. "Your 'supply runs' rarely have this much collateral."

There wasn't a word to describe the metamorphosis - 'Mith' was enveloped in a sort of… inverted light? Bright darkness? That extended into an oval roughly six feet in height.

"Boo, you're no fun," a light, playful voice responded to her.

The shadows fled, and her 'favorite brother' (his words, not hers) stood with an impish grin on his face.

He wore dark leather armor with metal plating over his vitals, and had a pair of long daggers strapped to his back. Around his neck were a pair of black scarves with deep purple streaks. The outfit was 'specced for nighttime stealth'. Or looking like an assassin stereotype, if you asked Byleth.

"Hello, hello! As you can see, these assholes were murderers and slavers, so I decided to relieve them of their goods, prisoners - and of course, lives! Which sure made these poor folks' loved ones happy, let me tell you," Mith said, approaching the four people still standing.

"Slavery's illegal in most of Fodlan," Claude pointed out with narrowed eyes, having regained his bearing.

Mith's head tilted, nostrils flaring for a moment. "In the sack is a map with a lesser-traveled route to Sreng. You seem smart, Reigan," he said idly. "So you can put it all together. Though… you look a bit different than I'd expected." He grinned, his pronounced canines coming into view as he strut forward while dragging the bag behind him. "Not a bad thing. I'm fond of surprises."

"...you expected me?" Claude's smile was still, and his eyes were cold and calculating.

"Oh yes. You, and Blaiddyd, and Hresvelg." Mith's violet eyes danced with puckish amusement. "This promises to be a fascinating turn of events, especially since I doubt Alois will let good ol' Pops turn tail this time. The Blade Breaker may well return to the Knights of Seiros - though not by choice."

"How did you come by this information?" Edelgard said slowly, not taking her eyes off of Mith's ears.

"Oh! Forgive me, I should introduce myself," Mith said with a sweeping bow. "I'm Mith. Well, it's a name at least. Anyways, I'm what you call a Nabatean," he said, pushing his curly black hair back, revealing his pointed ear. "Though I'm a touch… different from the normal stock. Perks of being made of Goddess' blood, deep sea brine, grave dirt, and sunflower petals." He leaned in with a conspiratorial grin, causing the three nobles to lean back and Byleth's eyes to narrow. "Truth be told, I was supposed to have lily petals. Would have been much more somber and grim. Sadly, they sent Aread to look for the flowers, and… well, there was a bit of a mix-up. My dear sister got quite the tongue-lashing, especially since she had already added a few of her own ingredients without dear Mother's say-so."

The nobles stared, eyes wide.

Byleth sighed. "Let's… go find Jeralt."

"Father! Dad! Pops! Honestly Byleth, the man sired you," Mith cajoled. "Would it kill you to acknowledge a bond?"

Byleth didn't deign to answer.

Claude coughed. "So… how did these men die?"

Mith just smiled proudly, canines on display.

"Nevermind."

The dragonkin whirled on his heel. "Ladies and children, please do accompany us back to Remire. Any of you who cannot be hosted there will be my personal guests on our way to Garreg Mach," he said cheerfully,

"We aren't far," Dimitri said, finally shaking his unease. "As members of the nobility, it would be our pleasure and duty to ensure your safety."

Claude shot Dimitri a sideways look. "Well, if his princliness says so…" he drawled.

Mith whirled back. "I say so," he said tartly, eyes gleaming with inner light. "And I know for a fact that you're kinder than this, Claude, so don't put on airs."

"How do you know?" asked Edelgard, pouncing.

Byleth sighed again.

"His grandmother just told me," Mith said with a happy smile.

"My grandmother's been dead for five years, assuming you mean on my father's side," Claude said flatly.

"Mm. Dark skin, beads in her hair, a tad overprotective? Fond of threatening to stick an axe in your-" Mith rambled.

"Eye," Claude said softly, eyes wide.

Mith grinned widely.

Dimitri's face drew in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Mith hefted the sack of ill-gotten goods onto his shoulder. "Be confused. Or earn my trust, whichever you prefer," the man said flippantly. "Ladies, take your children by the hand and follow me, mm?" He clicked his fingers overhead, and a ball of faint blue light illuminated the area. "On and on!"

Byleth motioned the three nobles to follow them, keeping an eye on them and the victims of the bandits.

Edelgard was pensive, as was Dimitri.

Claude had likely figured out exactly what was going on.

That would explain the sudden pale cast of his skin.
____________________________________________________________________________

"Alois! Lovely to meet you!" Mith said merrily.

Byleth sighed. She did that a lot, ever since they passed too close to an unmarked grave.

Then the plank of rotting wood shot into the air on a spear of ice, and a wyrmling clambered out, staring at her.

Cue Mith.

"Ah! So you have spoken of me to… who is this?"

"Mith. I'm adopted," he said cheekily.

Jeralt sighed. "Whether I liked it or not," he grumbled.

"Aw, Pops," Mith cooed. "You and Byleth would be utterly lost without my charm, my cheer, and my ability to interrogate the deceased for the location of our marks!"

"What?" Alois asked, blinking rapidly.

"My charm and cheer!"

"No, but that last part-" Alois began.

"Rhe-a! Rhe-a! Let's go meet Rhe-a!" Mith cheered.

Alois' eyes snapped between Jeralt and Mith.

Claude gave a deep sigh.

"Well, he seems cheerful," Dimitri said pleasantly.

Byleth stared at him.

"You did hear him claim to speak with the dead, no?" Edelgard said slowly.

Dimitri shrugged. "Either he's mad, lying, or telling the truth. If it's the first two, he seems to be no threat to anyone who avoids inflicting undue harm." His eyes narrowed for a moment, and Byleth pursed her lips at the darkness she saw there. "If it's the latter, then I may have questions."

"Would you agree?" Edelgard asked Byleth directly.

"Yes," she said shortly. "I've never seen him be less than helpful to those in need. He's been with us for eight years," she continued, "and the only time events like that massacre happen is when the recipients well and truly deserve it by any culture's standards."

The girl turned to Alois. "Sir Alois, have you ever heard of a Nabatean?" she asked.

Alois gawked. "A what?"

"I have no idea what she's talking about," Mith said with an innocent look.

Edelgard whirled on him, eyes flashing.

Mith simply placed a finger in front of his lips with a wink and a smirk.

The noble girl deflated slightly, eyes narrowed. "I would like an explanation."

"And you'll have it eventually," Mith drawled.

Alois shook his head. "Anyways, I'm inclined to agree with… Mith, was it? We need to get everyone here to Garreg Mach. We're a few hours march away, so it won't be long," he said, regaining his cheer.

Jeralt grimaced, looking over at Mith.

"Oh good! Rhea can help with these refugees!" Mith chirped.

"Refugees? From where?" Alois said, suddenly concerned.

"I dunno! They were with the slavers!" Mith replied.

"Emphasis on 'were'," Claude drawled. "The leader of the bandits that attacked us-"

Jeralt groaned aloud. "A 'supply run'?"

"I got goodies!" Mith cheered, holding up the bag with a loud clank.

Edelgard stared at it.

"There's a brave axe, and a hammer- oooh, a refined steel lance for Jeralt… Oh, Byleth! Would you like a Levin Sword?"

Byleth peered into the bag. "They had all this?" she said, brow furrowed.

"Well…" Mith trailed off sheepishly. "There may have been some, ah, 'black hats' running about…" he trailed off.

Byleth's eyes narrowed.

"Ehe. Whoopsie?" the dragonkin said sheepishly.

Alois stared blankly. "I think," he said slowly, "we should get to Garreg Mach. As soon as possible."

Mith brightened up as Byleth rubbed her forehead.

"Tonight has been quite fascinating," Dimitri remarked, hand to his chin.

Claude nodded, uncharacteristically quiet.

Edelgard walked next to Mith. "Would you mind providing me some company? I'm quite curious about you…" she said with a small smile.

"Eh, sure. I'll walk with you, but don't be too surprised if I don't give you the answers you want," Mith replied.
____________________________________________________________________________

The monastery loomed overhead as they approached.

Claude and Dimitri had struck up a conversation, and occasionally tried to drag Byleth in. She humored them once or twice, but it only seemed to embolden them.

Edelgard was the picture of consternation, but still seemed to enjoy herself.

"You said you were made of gravesoil, seawater, and flower petals," she said bluntly.

"I did. Isn't everyone? Mother said the goddess makes all the good little boys and girls that way," Mith said with a slow, catlike blink.

"Clearly you've never been educated on the subject," Edelgard retorted tartly.

"What subject?"

Claude glanced over, then turned back to Dimitri.

Byleth listened in on the other two.

"I. I am not equipped for that discussion," Edelgard said, flushing slightly. "Claude! Explain… er…"

"The wyverns and the pegasi?" he drawled. "Yeah, no thanks-"

"What about wyverns and wyverns? I don't think wyverns and pegasi should breed. The scales would hurt the poor horsie something awful," Mith said with a pout.

Edelgard gave a sharp cough behind her closed mouth as Claude stumbled.

"Just so," Dimitri said approvingly. "I've never understood the euphemism, really."

"Right?" Mith said, perking up.

"I still have questions!" Edelgard said, frustrated.

"And you asked plenty. Now I want to talk to Dimitri. He's the sensible one. You and Claude think poor horsies should get roughed up by scales," Mith said haughtily.

Byleth pinched the bridge of her nose as Claude began to laugh helplessly.

Edelgard was still mildly flushed, but a wry smile flashed across her face for a moment. "Is he always like this?" she asked Byleth.

"Only if he likes someone. I think he's actually taken a shine to you three," Byleth admitted. "He's shier around the rest of the mercs."

"Those who don't know me think I'm quiet. Those who do wish I was," Mith said in sing-song.

Dimitri scoffed. "I know a few people that applies to," he said with rueful fondness.

"Oh? Do tell! I think we'll be at this church-y place for a while, so it's best to get to know one another," Mith said cheerfully.

"Here we are, Garreg Mach!" Alois said loudly from the front.

"Awww," Mith said with a pout. "Later, though?"

Dimitri gave a small smile. "If you insist, I can make introductions."

"I do! Maybe. It depends how I feel." Mith shrugged and a distant look crossed his face. "I suppose I'll want to watch and see."

"In your other form?" Edelgard offered innocently.

"Most likely, yes," Mith agreed.

She stared. "You're not arguing the point," she said slowly.

"You saw me shapeshift. It's not like I'm proficient in illusion or anything," Mith replied.

Claude perked up. "Illusion?"

"Oh yes. It's a branch of Reason-based magics. Though I've managed to blend some more Faith-based initiatives into it," the dragonkin mused.

"That doesn't explain-" Edelgard said slowly.

"Not at all!"

Dimitri chuckled. "You remind me a touch of Sylvain. Though… less flirtatious, more impish."

Edelgard sighed. "I suppose it was a fool's errand to try to get straight answers out of someone like you," she said ruefully.

Mith paused. "Well," he said gingerly. "Honesty comes with trust. Should I trust you?"

Edelgard was quiet.

"When you can give an answer to that," Mith continued, "then I'll give you concrete answers. I've gotten this far with obfuscation, so forgive me if I don't let up quite that easily."

Claude frowned lightly. "What would you have to hide?" he asked.

Mith gave him a long look as they crossed the threshold. "From one outsider to another? Everything."
____________________________________________________________________________

Byleth felt frozen.

Teacher? Her?

"And I'll assist her. And the others, I suppose," Mith said with an impish look.

Rhea - the green-haired archbishop of the church of Seiros - gazed at Mith. "And who might you be, child?" she asked pleasantly.

Seteth, her right hand man, gazed at Mith with narrowed eyes that shot wide open as he spotted the ears.

Byleth immediately placed a hand on her sword. Nobody who knew what Mith was from the start was to be trusted.

"Call me Mith."

Rhea's eyes widened slightly, then returned to normal. "I see." Her smile widened. "I would be gladdened and honored for you to lend your talents in raising our students, Mith. Is there anything we should know about you?" she asked.

Byleth shivered. If anything, she was more intent on Mith than she had been on Byleth.

"Mm. I have a major Crest," Mith said finally.

Jeralt's head whipped towards Mith, eyes wide.

"Of?" Rhea gently prodded.

"Emyth'solan," Mith said coolly. "It's rather rare. In fact, I may be the last to bear it."

Rhea inclined her head. "I have records of such a Crest. Emyth'solan… an apocryphal-"

"Lady Rhea," Seteth said briskly. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation with the lad in private?"

Byleth narrowed her eyes. "No."

The room stilled.

"No?" Rhea asked politely.

"You know what he is," Byleth said bluntly.

Jeralt waved his hands, shaking his head. "Byleth, you don't under-" he began quickly.

"Perhaps," Rhea responded in an enigmatic tone.

"We've been pursued by people trying to hurt him for the past eight years," Byleth said shortly. "Each of them had that knowledge. What guarantee do we have that you aren't one of them?"

Seteth seemed to relax minutely. "So you worry for his safety," he said in relief.

"He's annoying. But I've gotten used to him," Byleth replied.

Mith idly swayed from side to side. "By. It's fine."

Byleth narrowed her eyes.

The dark-haired young man flashed her a quick grin. "Rhea's like family, yeah?"

That…

"I see," Byleth said slowly. She didn't really. But one thing was clear.

Either Mith knew a spirit that knew Rhea - and he said her mother hadn't been present the entire time he'd been with them - or…

He knew her.

What she wouldn't give for her father to talk about his past.

Thankfully, unlike Edelgard, she had given an answer to Mith's question long ago.

"I trust you," she said finally.

Mith flashed another grin. "I know."
____________________________________________________________________________

I leaned on the wall of Seiros' - Rhea's - chamber as she removed her headdress and brushed her hair.

"So," I drawled. "Any reason Mummy Dearest is an amnesiac and haunting my cute baby sister?"

Rhea paused. "I'd forgotten how informed you could be," she said slowly.

"Mm. Andella was quite forthcoming about Claude. Arundel and Patricia a bit less on Edelgard, but Lambert and Glenn begged me to look after Dimitri." I tilted my head. "So what's Sothis doing around Byleth? Is she of your blood?"

"In a manner of speaking, little brother." Rhea turned to me. "Tell me… how dear is Byleth to you?"

"She woke me. I was beneath the dirt, in a coffin. A bit of magic and a quick shift got me out, but…" I trailed off. "Anyways. I've been with her for eight years. Let's say I consider her family."

Rhea nodded. "Then. I am sorry." She sighed. "I have failed you twice over."

"Oh?" I asked.

"First, when I presumed you dead. I placed you in the soil, where your bones and heart could never be used." Rhea continued to comb her hair. "Second, when I set events in motion that I cannot undo, and gave life to a person who you would come to treasure, however briefly."

I felt my eyes narrow. "I know you like your riddles, sister mine. But you'll find my humor runs quite short regarding those under my protection."

"I had tried to house mother in vessels repeatedly, to no avail. The last attempt loved Jeralt, and gave birth. Dear Byleth was a stillbirth, so at the request of her mother, I gave her the heart of Sothis. The Crest Stone."

I snapped my fingers. "So that's it! No wonder there's a pulse but no heartbeat," I said in a harsh tone. "I'd wondered. So you think Mum's going to subsume her or something? I… can't see it. She was always too nice. Even odds she shares space for the rest of her life," I finished with a shrug.

Rhea sighed again. "For both our sakes, I hope that is true. Can you still…?"

"Manifest them? Sure. Takes a little blood, but it's… gotten easier, actually. Note how I no longer look to be our mother's apparent age," I said with a sweep of my arms. "I've gotten stronger. So how's Cichol? He and Cethleann still getting on alright?"

"Seteth is his name for now, and Flayn is his 'sister'," Rhea said, relaxing. "I… I had missed you. You were my anchor in those dark days. When I thought I'd lost you to Nemesis, before the final battle-" she cut herself off, tears in her voice.

"Hey, hey, hey," I said gently, approaching her. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders. "I'm here now. It doesn't fix a damn thing, I know," I admitted, "but we can move forward together."

Rhea gave a soft sob and turned, pulling me into a warm embrace. "Welcome home, Emyth'solan. I love you. I've missed you."

"Missed you too, Seiros," I replied softly. "So, so much."
____________________________________________________________________________

I tapped my feet on the ground eagerly as Byleth came back into the teachers' area. "So! Thoughts?" I asked cheerily.

"I have no idea," she said flatly.

"Hm. Edelgard's in deep shit, but so's Dimitri. Claude would give you more leeway to work with, but siding with either one of them would alienate the other. I might be able to win Edelgard's trust, but… not banking on it."

"Define 'deep shit'," Byleth said with a slight narrowing of her eyes.

Oooh, she's irritated.

"Tsk. Sooo…" I trailed off. "Any chance you can ask for a stay of execution on this one? I have… details. Spicy ones."

Arundel gave me a long look from where he hovered behind Byleth. "Whatever comes," he said icily, "I do hope you'll put the man who stole my face to the blade."

I flipped him a surreptitious thumbs-up. After all, I had no intention of letting an Agarthian roam around unchecked.

Lambert, meanwhile, was solemn and silent. Glenn had gone to watch over his brother and former fiancee, the poor sod.

And Andella?

"That grandson of mine will tear open Fodlan's Throat if you help him or not," she said with a shrug. "A boundary-breaker may be what this world needs in this day and age. Just promise you won't hunt him if it comes to it."

I grumbled. "So many details," I muttered.

Byleth nodded. "Okay."

And that's what I loved about her. Easy acceptance, trust, and willingness to listen.

Mum knows that wasn't easy to come by.

Speaking of, her barely visible form hovered next to Byleth, clearly asleep.

I sighed. Yeah, that was going to be a talk, too.

"Would Rhea listen if you ask?" Byleth questioned as we turned towards the… throne room? It felt like a throne room.

"Maaaaaybe? I'll give it a shot," I said after a moment.

"Dear Professor," Rhea said in a borderline creepy tone. "Have you made a choice?"

There were also a man and a woman in there, who weren't Seteth.

"And who is this young man?" the woman asked in a sultry voice. Short brown hair, revealing white clothes.

"Name's Mith! I'll be playing assistant to all of you," I said in the most annoying chirp I could muster.

I wasn't against either gender, but playing up my youth might benefit here. Yeah, she didn't seem bad, but uh… there was a nameless something that told me she wasn't my type.

Probably the faint scent of booze.

"Manuela. I'm a current physician, former songstress, and available," she said with a wink.

"Honestly, Manuela!" the man scolded. He shook his head. "I am Professor Hanneman, Crest Scholar," he said, offering his hand.

I grinned and shook it. "Pleased to make both your acquaintances," I said with genuine cheer.

What can I say? I'm a sucker for oddballs, and they both fit the bill.

"Mith said he has some intelligence to share beyond what I've learned," Byleth said, responding to Rhea. "He wants to share it in private before I make a decision."

I nodded firmly, turning my attention back to my sister. "Looots of details."

"I see," Rhea said with a shallow nod. "I'll extend the time to choose until… tomorrow morning?"

I flashed a double thumbs-up. "Sounds good, church lady!" I chirped.

"Mith!" Seteth scolded. He frowned deeply. "While I accept that Lady Rhea and you share some… common ground…" he said slowly, searching for euphemisms, "that does not give you carte blanche for disrespect!"

I gave Rhea my best puppy-dog eyes and an exaggerated pout.

She actually giggled. "Apologies, Mith. I do not mind the nickname, but poor Seteth is already stressed enough."

"Aww, fine," I said with a shrug.

"Indeed. Though I will abide by her decision, I still don't understand why Lady Rhea is giving such largesse to…" he trailed off, uncertain how to make his position clear without insulting Byleth.

Clever man, but I wasn't going to let that slide.

"I know why!" I chirped.

His gaze snapped towards me.

"Oh?" Manuela said teasingly. "And what's the reason?"

I gave a shit-eating grin and placed my left index finger on my lower lip.

"It's. A. Se-cret!"

Seteth let out a shrill, disgruntled sound of impotent frustration.

Music to my ears.
 
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Mith Character Sheet 1
Name: Mith
Age: 17??
Hair: Black
Eyes: Violet
Race: Nabatean
Faction(start): Church of Seiros/His Own Side
Starting Level: 9

Personal Ability: Survivor's Grudge (+3 DMG vs Agarthians/Those Who Slither in the Dark)

Major Crest of Emyth'solan: Low chance of not spending use of a spell, medium chance of increasing spell Mt+5. Out of combat: He sees dead people.

Starting Class: Gravekeeper (Unique, tier 1/4) (Master Abilities: Mag +2, Spd +2) (Increased Growth to Brawl and Reason)

Strengths: Reason, Faith, Brawl (placing daggers here), Flying
Weaknesses: Axe, Heavy Armor, Riding, Bow

HP: 33
Str: 12
Mag: 20
Dex: 15
Spd: 19
Luk: 9
Def: 12
Res: 16
Cha: 18

HP Up: 45%
Str Up: 40%
Mag Up: 60%
Dex Up: 55%
Spd Up: 80%
Luk Up: 30%
Def Up: 45%
Res Up: 50%
Cha Up: 50%

Sword: E+
Lance: E
Axe: E
Bow: E
Brawl: C
Reason: C+
Faith: C
Authority: E+
Heavy Armor: E
Riding: E
Flying: D

Abilities: Brawling Prowess Lvl 2, Reason Prowess Lvl 3, Faith Prowess Lvl 2, Mag +2, Spd +2

Spells Learned

Reason
D: Glamour
C: Flechette (Theta)
B+: Luna (Lambda)
A: Phantasmagoria
A+: Fata Morgana

Faith
D: Heal
C: Veil
C+: Silence
B: Warp
A+: Dispel

Homebrew Spells

Glamour: 12 Uses, 1 Mt, Range 1-2. Weight 1. Spd -5 on hit. Out of combat: small area illusions.
Flechette (Theta): 10 Uses, 3 Mt, Range 1-2. Weight 1. Basically shadow throwing knives.
Phantasmagoria: 3 Uses, 6 Mt, Range 1-3. Weight 9. Move Seal for one turn on hit. Out of combat: wider field illusions.
Fata Morgana: 1 Use, 11 Mt, Range 1-4. Weight 11. Cannot Double. Strength/Defense down for one turn on hit. Out of combat use: discord among armies.

Veil: Increases target's Spd by 7, degrades by 1 each round. 5 Uses. Range 1.
Dispel: Seals target's abilities and/or Magic for 1 Round. 1 Use. Range equal to Mag (like Silence).

____________________________________

Character Traits

Likes: Reading, Humor, Cute Things, Beautiful People
Dislikes: Hypocrisy, Cruelty, Fishing, Enthusiastic Ignorance
Favorite Foods: Anything in the Sweets section, Fish Sandwich, Anything with Poultry as an ingredient.
 
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Garreg Mach: Best Laid Plans
Byleth sat down at the table in her room, Mith already seated across from her.

"So," she said. "What do you have?"

His eyes flickered around the room, then settled on her a few moments later. "Hush," he muttered. "I'm telling her already." He straightened up.

"So!" Mith chirped. "Which of these lovely candidates for 'sad child we're taking on this time' do you want to hear about first?"

Byleth calmly poured a steaming cup of tea. She could already tell she'd need it from the faux-chipper oozing off of Mith. "Take it from the top. Faerghus' crown prince… Dimitri Alexander…?"

"Dimitri Alexandre Blay… Blai… Bluh… Blaiddyd! That one!" Mith said, finally completing his verbal stumble. His eyes shot to the side. "Hush you, it is a hard name to remember, let alone pronounce," he hissed. His cheerful demeanor returned. "So! Tragedy of Duscur. Ring any bells?"

"No." Byleth sipped her tea.

"Well, you remember my, ah, circumstances?" Mith offered.

The mercenary-gone-professor responded with a slow nod as she continued to drink.

"Well. That. He was the only survivor of a diplomatic mission gone to hell. And he saw it all happen."

"Tragic," Byleth said. And it was, but she saw no need to belabor the point.

Mith, fortunately, understood her enough to accept her reaction. "Yes. He thinks he's haunted by the voices of the dead, but that's just his brain being mean to him. Glenn of House Fraldarius and his father, Lambert something-or-other Blaiddyd I do not care about your middle name Royal Hiney are the only remaining spectres haunting him and imploring him to let go. The only true good about the situation is he doesn't blame Duscur, but he doesn't know who to blame. Also he's here for vengeance and rampant slaughter, but I mean," Mith cut himself off and spread his hands plaintively.

"Noted. You think there's a chance he could turn on Edelgard if the wrong evidence comes to light?" Byleth asked.

"More like if evidence comes to light in an order outside of our control, but yes," Mith said firmly. "And the man has brute strength like you wouldn't believe. That's Areadbahr's influence, I'm afraid…" he trailed off with a sad look, then smiled a little. "He does remind me a bit of her, though. Slow to anger, but hellbent when roused. Titanic in power, steadfast to his friends." Mith sighed. "Though if he snaps… well, dragon-blooded aren't known for coming back down from that easily, if at all."

"So you want to adoptnap him, like Jeralt stopped you from doing the last time in the Empire," Byleth said shortly.

"Bartels deserved worse," Mith hissed, eyes flickering darkly. He perked up. "Oooh, I think I saw Emile around though! I hope he's doing well, especially after we snuck him across the border to Leiceister," he said with an impish grin.

"Fascinating," Byleth replied in a dry tone. "And also why Jeralt never let you near another Noble House ever again. The heart attack you gave him when we almost let you get near the Varley Estate was nightmarish enough."

Mith pouted. "Boo! And boo again! Anyways, yes, Dimitri. Sad boy, easily won over with honesty and equally easy for someone like me to… helpfully direct," he said, shifting back to his false cheer.

"...you think they're behind the Tragedy?" Byleth said quietly. She didn't bother to elaborate on who.

"From Lambert's account, yes. The people of Duscur are mostly of a darker skin tone, and the assailants were of a pale, corpselike cast. That screams 'black hat'," Mith said with a nod. He sighed. "Which brings us to Edelgard."

Byleth paused, then set her teacup down. "Oh dear."

Mith pulled a bottle from somewhere, and flicked the cork out whole with a deceptively sharp nail. "Oh, yes." He tilted it back and began to chug.

Byleth kicked his ankle. "Stop that. I need you sober."

"And I need liquid courage, because if Dimitri's case was bad, this one's hellish," Mith rebuked as he set the bottle down. "Dedue enables Dimitri, but that's nothing I can't work around. Edelgard is on the fast path to the pit, and the only person aware of her folly is riding right alongside her with the same blinders," he said in a tired voice.

"Edelgard's situation. A hundred words or less, go," Byleth said, forestalling the soliloquy that she saw coming.

"One of ten siblings, the rest died to artificial Crest Implantation, carries Seiros' and my mother's crests, told the Church is evil by Empire and 'black hat' doctrine, ignorant of several key facts, going to reunify Fodlan under the Empire with 'black hat' aid. Hubert's helping." He picked the bottle up and began to chug again.

"...your mother."

The bottle went down. "A-yup."

"The Goddess."

"Just so."

"The Goddess worshiped by this Church, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh yes, and she thinks said Goddess is an evil oppressor. Well, to the 'black hats', everyone who isn't them is an oppressor by virtue of existing and being 'beasts', but go on, I suppose," Mith said in a tired, irritated tone.

"...is Seiros an oppressor?" Byleth asked cautiously.

Mith gave a humorless smile. "Well, you met her. So sister mine, does the Archbishop seem impossible to reason with?"

Byleth slumped back.

"I told you we were long-lived," Mith said in singsong.

"...are any other siblings present?"

Mith shrugged. "I have deep suspicions, but nobody's come forward yet. It's on them if they want to share with me. But yes, Seiros is Rhea is Seiros, and getting her to listen to me is child's play. Apparently nobody's been around to gainsay her for the entire time I've been asleep, and she's grateful for any insight I can provide, given how I straddle the veil between life and afterlife so thoroughly," he said in that same mirthful tone. His eyes flicked to the side and narrowed. "Nana, your grandson is endearing but in the least danger of our charges. Let me go at my pace."

"Do we bring her in on Edelgard?" Byleth asked.

"No!" Mith hissed, eyes wide. "Not until I get Edelgard ready to sit at the table, which will require me dispensing lore and teasing her along into something resembling trust. It helps that I deeply disagree with the state of Fodlan, and Rhea's moves that permitted the 'black hats' to put it there. I won't have to fake anything. But if I'm going to get her on board, I'm going to have to bear my throat in ways that make me deeply uncomfortable to think on."

"And?"

"And if we reveal her too early, she will strike. And Seiros never permits a second incursion. I don't know if even I could talk her down from full war with the Empire, dragging all factions into a whirlpool of chaos," Mith said with a pleading look in his eye.

"So we keep Edelgard's insurrection to ourselves," Byleth said slowly.

Mith gave a slow grin.

"Or…?" Byleth said. She knew that look. It was the look he gave right before he darted into Sreng in search of one of his siblings.

"Well, a good amount of preparation is being done by the 'black hats'. They even have a ranking operative in play here," he said smugly. "The librarian told me about him."

Byleth crossed her arms. "I'll bite. How?"

"Because the operative supplanted the librarian," Mith replied with a wink and a grin. "Tomas is quite the font of information, and all too willing to help the others track movements and dispense wisdom."

Byleth felt her lips quirk. "I see. So we can undermine their preparations, which Edelgard will deem necessary to move, and leave the Empire untouched."

Mith spread his hands again. "And if I straight out say that there's an old enemy I've been pursuing, well…"

"It would throw her off our trail where she's concerned." Byleth felt a sense of grim satisfaction. "So business as usual until we're sure she'll trust us to give her the truth?"

"Mm." Mith flinched. "Agh, woman! Fine! Claude wants to break open a fort between Fodlan and Almyra to allow for cultural exchange and understanding. Essentially he wants to break boundaries between countries to dissolve prejudice. Also he's incredibly crafty and untrusting. However he's also far less likely to commit wholesale slaughter than the other two." He glared to the side. "Are you happy? Put that axe away!"

Byleth coughed, which was the closest she got to a chuckle. "It's rare to see you on the back foot with anyone."

"Almyran grandmothers," he said, plucking the bottle up with a grunt. "Don't mess with them." He took another swig, and sighed.

"I believe that's all you have?" Byleth said. "It's easily enough for me to work with."

"No, no. I'm just tipsy enough to be fully honest, and you need to hear this," Mith grumbled. He looked… tired.

Byleth felt her shoulders tense. Mith could bounce along from almost anything. He'd drop truths like rain and obfuscate them the next, laugh and play with people until they were fuming, but… defeat like this? Something was weighing on him.

"You have my mother's crest. Major. And… it ties into your past, here," Mith said quietly.

Byleth nodded.

"Sothis was my mother's name," he said, enunciating clearly and quietly, eyes locked on hers.

Byleth swallowed, hard. "That name…"

"I didn't lie when I told you how I came into being. Grave dirt, brine, petals, and blood. The last lingering shade of a Fell Dragon. All mixed by the hand of a goddess that was much smaller than yours or mine. Based on what sort of child she wanted, she'd craft them from blood and the elements." Mith crossed his arms. "And you did not receive her Crest by birth. At least, not by bloodline. You should have gotten Seiros', if we're being thorough."

"Jeralt," Byleth said with narrowed eyes.

"Rhea isn't on the most even of keels. Me being here has softened her attentions on you and given both of us massive leeway. She…" Mith rubbed the bridge of his nose. "She tried to bring Mum back multiple times. Homunculi, if you know the term."

"I'm familiar. You've considered using them to house souls to finish their own business before, but didn't want to risk your blood getting into the population," Byleth said curiously.

"Right. Well, your mother was the next-to-last attempt. Jeralt met her, they fell in love, wyverns and pegasi…" Mith trailed off with a slight gleam of mischief in his eyes.

Byleth snorted. She let it pass. "Go on," she said.

"Rhea wed them. You got made. You were stillborn, and she was going to die anyways." Mith took a deep breath. "So Rhea used her arts to move the Crest Stone functioning as your mother's heart - Mum's heart - and put it in you. You have the heart of the archdeity of this region in your chest. Like a lump of rock, but funneling your blood where it needs to go."

Byleth slumped in her chair. "Oh," she said faintly.

"Yes. And Sothis is waking up. Rhea… assumed either erasure or fusion of personality. I am honestly thinking more cohabitation, personally. And as I was made to be the arbiter of souls in her absence," Mith said tartly, "I believe I'm the resident expert, no? So consider her a perpetual roommate of varying quality."

Byleth let out a long exhale. "And… if she did try…"

Mith narrowed his eyes. "I made my peace with losing Mum once. I'm not ready to let go of you. In that incredibly unlikely case, I'd plead with her - I can see her, somewhat. Likely as she strengthens, so will my power to engage. If she somehow didn't listen - again, incredibly unlikely - I'd exorcise her. But that's academic, because Mum hasn't changed. I can tell that. And the woman who expended millenia worth of energy to resuscitate the land and humanity after a war with the Agarthans isn't the sort to sacrifice an innocent for her own selfish needs."

"But Seiros is," Byleth pointed out.

"Seiros is a girl who lost everything, including her mother. I'm younger, but more mature. Knowing me, what does that say about her?" Mith inquired.

Byleth grimaced. "Point well taken."

"I'm a stabilizing influence on her. I was then, and she's letting me reprise the role." Mith grinned. "Perks of being the baby of the family. I'm too cute to stay mad at," he cooed, folding his hands under his chin.

Byleth kicked his ankle lightly. "Hush, you."

Mith snickered. "You're taking this rather well," he admitted. "I'm glad."

"Honestly… it makes sense. Sothis…" Byleth trailed off.

"Amnesiac. I can overhear her, remember?" Mith said with a wry smile. "Let her remember naturally. If we force it… well. Could go any number of ways. But build the bond, and eventually we'll have something like a Goddess again."

Byleth nodded. "So. Now that we've covered all that, and then some…" She leaned forward, teacup in her hand. "What am I supposed to fucking choose?" she growled.

Mith shrugged, tilting his bottle back and forth. "Search me. I just wanted you informed; I know fuck-all about the other brats." He eyed down the neck of the container. "Empty. Sad."

Byleth let out a long sigh. "You said the Golden Deer would make it easier for you to operate?"

"Dimitri is already halfway to being on our side; he latched onto my proclamation of necromancy with quite some interest. Edelgard I may have a bit of sway over if I bring one of the Deer into it - I don't know her name, but the youngest one-"

"Lysithea von Ordelia," Byleth said promptly.

Mith whistled. "Look at you and your remembering names! Someone's serious about this teaching thing, eh?" he said with a grin.

Byleth reached across the table to swat at his head, which he nimbly ducked. "Shush. You think she was experimented on as well?"

"Similar eye color, exact hair. She looks more fragile, so my theory is she was a prototype run," Mith said.

"As though we needed another reason to cut down those monsters," Byleth said flatly.

"I'll drink to that," Mith said as he raised his bottle. He glanced at it, chucked it aside, and lifted his teacup. "To a productive year of making these kids better off than we found them," he said cheerfully.

"Cheers," Byleth said tonelessly as she clinked her cup to his. "Though a good number of them are of our age - apparent in your case - or older."

Mith grinned after he drained his cup. "Those I'm planning to see who I can have a good flirt with."

Byleth rolled her eyes. "Don't bite off more than you can chew."

Mith chuckled. "I usually do," he admitted without a hint of shame.
____________________________________________________________________________

"The Golden Deer," Byleth said firmly.

Rhea gave a warm smile. "I'm sure they'll be thrilled to have you, Professor." Her eyes cut to Mith. "And how would you like to handle your appointments?"

"Really? Well, I'll be taking the Black Eagles," Manuela said firmly.

"Which leaves the Blue Lions to me. Honestly, I should teach the Eagles, but-"

"I'll rotate along the classes and help. I can do Faith, Reason, and brawling. Also a bit of flying," Mith said quickly.

"Interesting spread," Manuela said with raised brows. "What kind of Faith spells do you know?"

"Ehh. So far I have a basic Heal and one I cobbled together I called Veil. The latter is illusion-based, and shrouds the target in a persistent external Glamour effect. The result makes them harder to read, letting them land more hits and dodge more easily." Mith shrugged.

"Fascinating," Hanneman said with narrowed eyes. "Glamour is a rare spell to pick up. Many describe it as 'dark' magic rather than 'black'."

Mith nodded. "Yeah. I learned it instead of Fire, though I can do a little with ice. Not a whole lot, but enough. And my main offense is a dark magic, Flechette. Shadow daggers. It's more convenient than constantly buying throwing knives to pair with my brawling," he said with a lackadaisical shrug.

"An illusionist who specializes in close combat, huh…" Manuela mused.

"I do stealth. Mostly," Mith said with a grin. "Byleth's a nightmare in direct combat, so I usually prowl the edges and pick off stragglers until it's time for the kill. By then the real threats are so distracted that slipping knives into vitals is child's play. Moreso when I'm invisible, soundless, and scentless."

At that, the other two professors shifted uncomfortably.

"They grow up so fast," Rhea said in a soft, satisfied tone.

Seteth shot her a sidelong look that communicated volumes. "Regardless of how qualified you are as a… mystic assassin…" he said slowly, "your book learning is likely…"

"I'm a fan of Loog and the Maiden of the Wind," Mith chirped. "Chivalry isn't my thing, but I'm always down for a good romance."

"Oh really?" Manuela purred.

Byleth coughed. "Your point, Seteth?"

"I was merely going to indicate that if he required assistance for his lesson plans, that he should refer to myself, Professor Hanneman, or Professor Manuela. Hanneman has the most theoretical learning here, and I am proficient in a great many more weapons than close-range daggers." Seteth inclined his head. "However, stealth tactics and trickery would definitely be of use for our charges to learn, even if they choose not to employ them."

"Yeah, definitely," Mith agreed, face suddenly serious. "If you know how the more common plans go, someone's going to find themselves in a fair fight they didn't plan on. If they're good, they'll adapt and try to avoid prediction. Most bandits… aren't."

Seteth nodded with a slight smile. "My thoughts exactly. So if you feel there are aspects that you do not think you can adequately explain to your students with the knowledge you currently have, please prevail on us for aid in your lesson plans."

Mith gave a small grin. "I'll do that. Only an idiot turns down free resources."

Byleth tilted her head. "Alright. So I guess we'll go meet our classes and introduce ourselves?"

Mith hummed. "I'm… gonna explore a bit. Familiarize myself with the place." He paused. "Thunder Catherine… shouldn't be around, right?"

Manuela's brows raised. "She's out on assignment, I thought. Why? Owe her a drink?" she said with a wink.

Mith exhaled in relief. "Good."

Byleth shot him a sharp look.

"Good?" Hanneman parroted. "How so?"

"I'm badly allergic to Heroes' Relics. It's almost like constant screaming in my ears," Mith said flippantly.

Byleth didn't miss the way Rhea's eyes widened to near comical proportions, or the way Seteth's jaw worked.

"Odd symptoms…" Manuela said slowly.

"Well, I can see and hear the dead due to my Crest, so maybe they're mildly possessed or something?" Mith said in a joking tone.

"You have a Crest?" Hanneman asked, stalking forward with laser focus.

"And that's my cue to go. Good luck, kiddo! You'll need it~" Manuela said teasingly as she marched off.

Rhea regained her composure before too long. "I will… endeavor that you don't end up alone with Catherine if I can," she said quietly.

"Lady Rhea, is he telling the truth?" Hanneman asked eagerly. "I've never heard of a Crest that could do such a thing!"

Byleth tensed. "His Crest is private. Leave him alone," she said in a low, cold tone.

Rhea shot her a small smile.

Hanneman sputtered. "That's- well, I-"

Mith shrugged. "Honestly, the more that's known about it, the better things might be. Though I draw the line at drawing blood," he said, tone turning sharp at the end. "Bad experiences there."

Hanneman looked between Mith and Byleth curiously.

Byleth sighed. "If he consents, he's yours to poke and prod. But not an inch further than he allows," she said warningly.

Mith gave a vicious grin.

Suddenly, Byleth became very aware of her choice of words.

"Why Byleth, whatever do you think we'll get up to?" Mith said in a faux-innocent tone. "That sounded downright kinky."

Byleth slapped her hand to her forehead as Rhea gave a slow blink.

Seteth wheezed. "Mith!" he growled out.

Hanneman blinked. "Eh? Did you say something, lad?"

Mith looked like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "Not at all, Professor Hanneman," he said with a serene smile.

Rhea sighed. "For the abridged version… there were rumors, once, of a sixth apocryphal saint. Saint Emyth'solan, the keeper of the dead. He was given the duty to lay the dead to rest, the sole dominion over the veil to see and speak through. His was the right to counsel the living to let go their deceased, and counsel the dead so that they may pass on. His magic was meant to counter the evil things in the world by occluding all that was good, and binding all that was evil. Of the six, he was youngest - younger even than Cethleann herself. Unlike the others, he was thought not to have survived the War of Heroes, when he intercepted a blow from the Sword of the Creator that saved Seiros' life, and enabled her victory." She paused, pursing her lips. "For his Crest to resurface is nothing short of a sign from the Goddess. Dark times may be ahead, but the power of Emyth'solan will help to guide our path - for I am sure many spirits haunt our halls that would whisper in Mith's ears."

"You better believe it," Mith muttered loudly.

"We have ascertained that Mith does indeed possess this apocryphal Crest," Seteth said swiftly. "Professor Byleth correlated his stories, and we have performed our own tests. It is a Major Crest, and of an unprecedented level of power. While Mith can protect himself, the scale of the Crest must be kept secret to the staff, and withheld from any whom Mith deems to be a risk."

Byleth nodded. "I concur with Seteth."

The green-haired man shot her a grateful look.

Hanneman's jaw worked slowly. "This… this is an amazing discovery! The only thing that could trump this would be a resurgence of the Crest of
Flames itself," he said excitedly.

Mith blinked once.

"And on that note," Rhea said smoothly, "our business here is concluded. Please, go see to your classes, and-"

"Oh! Hello!" a young girl's voice called.

Mith's shoulders stiffened, and Byleth watched him turn.

The girl in question had green hair that fell in tight spirals past her face and down her shoulders.

"My name is Flayn, and I am Seteth's sister," she said with a bow to Byleth. "I wanted to meet the new professor before they started work, and well… here you are!" Her smile was kind and warm. Byleth didn't sense an ounce of danger from her.

"Are you a student?" she asked.

"Alas, but no. My brother is quite overprotective, though learning a bit of self-defense would not be amiss," she said with a small frown. She smiled again. "But the thought is heartening, and I shall press him anon for permission to join your class!"

Byleth looked at Seteth, who looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.

Flayn's gaze wandered until it fell on Mith, and her eyes widened. "You… seem familiar…" she said softly.

Mith shot Seteth a glance.

The man shook his head with a sheepish look on his face.

"I go by Mith nowadays," he drawled with a friendly grin. "Flayn, right?"

Flayn's eyes lowered in thought, and Byleth understood.

Mith hadn't told her because they hadn't told him, but it was very likely Rhea had. This was as subtle a way of telling her as he could manage. Seteth was likely Mith's brother, and given the similarities… if Seiros was his sister, being Rhea, then Flayn was…

Byleth was disturbed from her reverie by a bell-like laugh.

"Oh! It is you! How wonderful!" Flayn said with a wide smile. "Oh Mith, we have missed you so! It is truly a blessing to have you among us again."

Mith grinned back. "Yeah, I'm feeling pretty fortunate, not gonna lie," he admitted.

Seteth sighed. "As touching as this is, perhaps…?"

"Oh! Right, off to see the Lions," Hanneman said, shaking his head. "Apologies, and… Mith, please feel free to come by my office later, hm? A Crest that can allow for the sight and sound of the deceased… the historical knowledge alone would be immense…" he murmured to himself as he wandered off.

Byleth sighed. "You good here?"

Mith nodded.

"Alright. Meet Jeralt and I for dinner," she said firmly.

Rhea smiled. "Would it be possible for us to join as well?"

"Sure! Big family reunion, lots to talk about," Mith said in a too-easy voice.

Rhea's eyes shot wide, her smile frozen in place.

"He does that," Byleth said flatly. "You get used to it."

Seteth raised an eyebrow. "You mean hand out panic attacks like sweets?"

"Whatever reason would we have to panic from catching up?" Flayn asked, expression politely confused.

"None at all!" Mith chirped.

Rhea swallowed. "Indeed. All is well," she said in a firm, yet mildly strained tone.

It was times like these when Byleth wished she was more adept at smiling.

As she walked off…

"Goodness, but he does seem to have them dancing to his tune," Sothis said with a yawn. "Though it isn't in a malicious sense, so…"

"There's no need to worry. I've known him for eight years, and he's never given me cause to distrust him," Byleth replied under her breath.

"Mm. There's something familiar about him. I do admit I like his style," Sothis said with a tilt of her head as her form flickered. She smiled at Byleth. "You didn't jump this time?"

"Whatever you are, you're not a ghost," Byleth said bluntly. "I've seen Mith manifest enough of them with his blood that I know how it goes. And you've gotten upset without displaying death wounds, so."

"Pardon?" Sothis said, startled.

"Most of the time, ghosts look like normal people. Make them mad, scared, or upset enough? They'll show how they died. Slashes, bites, burns, bloating from drowning…" Byleth trailed off. "Mith lives in a pretty gruesome world. For a place like Fodlan and how it can get, that's saying something."

Sothis looked over her shoulder with a small frown as they kept going. "That is a heavy burden to bear alone."

Byleth scoffed, making Sothis jump. "What makes you think I'd let him handle it alone?"

The spirit gave a small smile. "What indeed."
____________________________________________________________________________

I gave a smug grin as Flayn and I wandered along the lakeside. "All that has transpired has done so according to my design," I gloated.

She giggled before taking another bite of sweet bun. After she swallowed, she looked at me. "Has it?"

"Nah. But it sounds cool, yeah?" I replied.

"Indeed! Oh, you must tell me how you've been," she said pleadingly.

"Sugar on your cheek," I said, tapping mine in roughly the spot she'd smeared hers.

"Oh!"

"Well… merc life is hard, but fulfilling. I guess. Managed to bail good people out of some bad situations, when Jeralt would let me. He's been on the run from Rhea for a while, and I figured out why," I said in a soft tone.

"Oh?" Flayn asked, rubbing her face. "Whyever would he need to flee? Jeralt was always devout before he left, and I cannot see him acting against the Church."

"He was worried for Byleth," I admitted. "Rhea took an unhealthy interest in her as a baby, and… shit got weird."

"Mm. And without your counsel, it likely progressed beyond what Jeralt could tolerate for his child," Flayn said gently. "I do love and respect Lady Rhea, but neither my… brother or I could gainsay her when she fixed her sight on a goal. That was more your domain, or one of my uncles."

I snorted. "Mostly me. Indech was stubborn but easily worked around, and Macuil was so scathing that he just made her mad. Seriously, does nobody know how to play to their audience?" I finished in a mutter.

Flayn giggled. "Counselor of the Living and Dead, remember? Just as I am a Healer of Wounds… we are who we were made to be," she said wistfully.

"Yeah. Honestly, there's a good bit of overlap between where we were meant to work," I said softly.

I watched as Glenn stared out over the water.

"Hold up. Ghost business," I said with a wave.

"Oh. May I watch?" Flayn asked curiously.

I hummed. "I can't pass my Crest to you, and manifesting one in the open is… dicey. So uh. It'll be half a conversation."

She nodded. "I see. I'd still like to stay," she said.

I grinned. "So long as you're aware."

She smiled brightly.

I coughed. "Heyyy Glenn," I said in a moderate tone of voice. "How goes?"

He sighed and turned to me. "Still not used to one of the living addressing me," he admitted. "I understand your choice, but I wish that Byleth had chosen my brother's house. His need is great in its own way."

I tilted my head. "Felix, right?"

Glenn nodded seriously.

"Right. So what's his damage?"

Flayn made a small sound of discontent. "Is he ill?" she asked worriedly.

Glenn shot her a look.

"She can't hear or see you," I reminded him. "But she can infer. Also, I'm looping her in. She's about as good at fixing people's shit as I am, when she gets going. Though more physical than my stuff," I admitted.

Flayn gave a stern nod. "If Felix is ill, I will cure him of his wounds," she said firmly.

Glenn sighed. "He resents… everything, it feels like. My father said cruel words upon my passing, and he took them to heart."

"Cruel words? About you?" I asked.

Flayn gasped.

"He said that 'I died like a true knight'," Glenn said softly.

"You died like a true knight? Uh, not to piss you off, but… wasn't the coffin closed for reasons?" I asked slowly. "Saying that sort of thing to a child who just lost his beloved sibling…"

Flayn's face was a study in grief. "Oh, Felix," she said sadly.

Yeah, Flayn - Cethleann - was just Like That. A real softie, but also capable of handling my general insanity pretty well. It's why we got on so well, despite our differences.

"Yes, it was a closed coffin memorial," Glenn said calmly. "So Felix resents the ideas of knighthood and chivalry. He trains to protect his friends… who are all striving to become knights."

I winced. "Yeah. Training to protect his friends while they run into the profession he blames for your death is… yeah."

Glenn nodded. "Indeed. And it does not stop there. His friend Sylvain is an inveterate skirt-chaser. I am unsure of the reason, but when he believes himself alone, his eyes dull and take on a lonely, calculating cast. Ingrid was my fiancee, and she took my death hard. It drives her to become a knight, but she questions the means and methods of the code of chivalry."

"Okay. So his best bud is a conflicted, depressed manwhore, and he's terrified because your ex is also a friend and hellbent on living a fairytale knight's story in the real world. Yeah, that sounds like issues," I said bluntly.

Flayn coughed, face mildly red. "Such indelicate language," she said, trying not to laugh.

Glenn shot me a small smirk. "Ha, ha. And then… his highness." He sighed. "Felix saw him put down the rebellion. He…"

I winced. "Dimitri's rage got loose, and Felix saw what he could become. And of course, being a kid, he assumed that was the only truth to him. Oh boy." I sighed. "What a goddamn mess."

"Sorrow and loss make monsters of us all," Flayn whispered, "if we do not have the light of others to help guide the way, and their warmth to ease our pain."

Glenn nodded at her. "Well put."

"He says you're right," I said to Flayn with a light nudge.

She smiled at me. "Naturally. Now if only Fa- my brother would acknowledge my wisdom," she huffed.

"I'll give you some Reason lessons if I can," I offered. I turned back to Glenn. "So… these guys have no real support system because they don't trust each other, are punishing themselves, or are clueless or ass-deep in the worst aspects of the chivalric code of conduct. That about right?"

Glenn snorted. "How astute. Yes, that does about cover it. Felix is a bitter man, but one who loves intensely." His gaze sharpened. "If you won his loyalty, I'm sure you'd benefit. Not to mention you're the sort who could help mend his wounds."

I shrugged. "I can give it a shot. I make no promises though. If he's enough of an ass to me or someone else I might decide to just lay him out."

Flayn giggled. "So violent! Traveling with a mercenary group hasn't done you any favors, Mith," she chastised me playfully.

I grinned at her.

"In all honesty, he respects strength. Punching him after being provoked might be the start of a friendship, or at least a rivalry," Glenn offered. "He's already curious about Byleth."

"Watch him join her class and her straighten him out without a problem," I muttered.

Flayn blinked. "Eh?"

"He likes strength, and Byleth's the one who carves through bandits like a scythe through grain," I elaborated.

"Ah."

Glenn smiled, shaking his head. "Anyways. I appreciate your time. Please, don't let me keep you."

I gave him a two finger salute. "Alright Flayn, let's go check the market. I wanna see if I can get more booze."

She gave me an aside glance. "Did you not mention that Manuela was 'not your type' because she overindulged?"

"Yeah, that's overindulgence. I'm not opposed to a good time, but… moderation, you know?" I offered as we strolled off.

"Interesting," Flayn said lightly.

I blew a raspberry, and she giggled.
____________________________________________________________________________

"No time like the present," I muttered as I approached Edelgard in the training field. "Hey, Edel!" I called out.

She turned and looked at me, blinking once. "Mith, yes? I'm surprised you're speaking to me," she said evenly. "Your sister is teaching the Golden Deer, after all."

I grinned. "Yeah, but all of you brats are mine when it's time for teaching stealth and ambush tactics."

Her eyes gleamed. "While the idea of such tutelage is heartening, you should consider your own age before addressing us as 'brats'," she said firmly.

"Indeed, Lady Edelgard is correct," a smooth, menacing voice cut in.

I looked to the side.

The man in question had yellowish eyes - eye? - and black hair draped over half of his face.

"We have not been introduced," he said in a chilling tone. "I am Hubert von Vestra, future Minister of the Household. I attend directly to Lady Edelgard's needs."

I decided to let the obvious joke die for the sake of expediency. "Mith, no surname. Just some random from the countryside," I said cheerfully.

"Random what, exactly? And which countryside?" Hubert asked.

"Good luck getting him to answer, Hubert," Edelgard said in a mildly teasing tone. "He's funny, but evasive. Baldly so, but still."

I shrugged. "Well if you want random, want to hear about the time I accidentally House Bartels?"

Edelgard's eyes sharpened. "Oh?"

"House Bartels was overturned by a bandit horde that rendered the guards unconscious, kidnapped his heir, and left the Lord dangling in a hammock of blankets entirely nude outside. In the dead of winter," Hubert said in a tart tone. "The man was found frozen to death."

I gave a wide grin. "Heyyyy."

"You do realize that, if you were involved, you would be liable for a high crime?" Edelgard said coolly.

"Ah-huh. And what's the Empire's stance on eugenics, child abuse, and the whole Crest malarkey?" I asked with a fierce grin. "Because from where I'm standing? A bastard who has kids just to lock them in a box for giggles deserves whatever he gets and worse, regardless if I gave it to them."

Edelgard's eyes softened. "Well put." She gave a wan smile. "Well put indeed." Her expression firmed. "Regardless, the nobility officially recognize what happened as a gross tragedy. Unofficially…" she trailed off.

"They're too involved with their own fortunes to particularly care, so long as similar occurrences do not befall them," Hubert said. His visible eye gleamed with something new - respect, perhaps? "More is the pity that some don't find that experience waiting for them."

I shrugged. "I mean, word is that the right ears are open, and for the right coin or tender certain parasites can be expunged. Or so it goes."

Hubert gave me an appraising glance. "I will take said information under advisement," he said coolly.

"Oh, and as I mentioned to Edelgard, I can talk to dead people," I said blithely. "That's the power of my Crest, mixed fortune though it is."

Edelgard's eyes narrowed. "I do recall something of that measure, though it seemed to slip into conversation more than a direct confirmation."

I grinned. "If I said it and you caught it, it's for you."

She slowly nodded. "I see."

"The reason I bring this up is because I spoke to the ghost of a young boy near Varley lands," I continued.

"Bernadetta von Varley is a member of our class," Hubert said briskly.

"Mm-hm. Skittish little girl, yeah? Ghostie said she wasn't always that bad." I let my eyes narrow. "Maybe her pops has something to do with that?"

Edelgard's mouth twitched. "If he does, then what would you propose be done?" Her expression was otherwise impassive.

I spread my hands. "You tell me, Princess. It's your Empire, whether they like it or not."

A slow smirk spread across Hubert's face.

Edelgard regarded me coolly. "I suppose that if the right ears were open, I would wish a fate similar to what befell the lord of House Bartels. In scope, if not nature."

"Mm. It'd be a tall order. What would they expect to find?" I asked.

"That depends on what they desired, and how it would interact with my own goals." Edelgard's expression gave nothing away.

I could play further, but…

"Warnings. The sorts of people who could pull this off have no shortage of enemies," I said bluntly. "Indications of where they were striking, information of their capabilities… that sort of thing." I paused. "In exchange for that… well, Lord Varley might have an untimely accident. And of course, I myself could make an arrangement with you, if you were so inclined."

"As an open ear?" Hubert asked.

"More as an open eye. I'm party to ancient secrets of Fodlan, secrets that even the Church forgot," I said pointedly. "I ask the right questions to the right ghosts? And I can go through legend and history, straight to fact."

Edelgard paused. "Are you implying something?" she said calmly.

I shrugged. "Merely that I have an interest in old lore. And that I am aware that the Heroes' Relics are not, in fact, gifts from the Goddess."

"Would you say they were made by human hands?" Edelgard asked, face still a polite mask.

"Oh yes. What would you say they were made of?" I replied.

Edelgard stilled, and her brow furrowed slightly.

I smiled, and quickly peered over my shoulder. "Ah, a man I wanted to see. Well, if you want an answer to that… I'll give it to you for free, in private. And you won't even need to answer the question I asked you on the way here." I let my smile darken. "It's an answer I've been desperate to give to the right ears for a long time."

Hubert cleared his throat.

I grinned again at him. "And if you aren't there, I will be sorely disappointed. But you two are the only ones I want to tell directly. Fair?"

"Easily done," Edelgard said firmly.

Hubert hummed. "I do not know what you're playing at," he said coolly.

I sighed, and let my smile drop. "Just trying to make friends, I suppose. I have enough enemies as is."

Edelgard scrutinized me for a moment. "I don't know about friends. However… I believe that our paths may not necessarily be opposed," she admitted. "I would need to know much more to be sure."

I nodded. "A fair assessment. And we have a year to learn what we want of one another, to see if a partnership is possible," I said with a wink.

Edelgard scoffed. "Partnership may be a bit much. However, I do respect your strength, and would prefer not to see it turned against me," she admitted.

"I've often found discourse to be the best way to keep swords in their sheaths," I responded. "I look forward to many fruitful conversations with you, Edelgard." I grinned. "And you as well, Hubert. Goodness knows I don't want a magic bolt in my gut as I sleep."

A small smirk wormed its way onto Hubert's face. "If I did decide to deal with you, I'd hardly be so indelicate or indiscreet."

As I turned to go, I paused as a gloved hand touched my elbow.

"Mith," Edelgard said, an edge in her voice that hadn't been there prior.

"Yes, Edelgard?" I asked without turning back.

"Please make sure the right ears hear what they need to. Bernadetta is of my house, and I would see her burden gone."

I turned to look at her, letting my eyes glow from within as my smile bore fangs.

"Why Lady Edelgard," I purred. "I daresay you've already been heard."

Hubert gave a sinister chuckle. "How interesting," he said.

Edelgard released me, and I walked away as the two left the training area, conversing quietly. Human hearing couldn't have caught them.

"Does he know?"

"Most likely, but he hasn't alerted the archbishop. Do you think…?"

"I think he sympathizes with us, and knows more than we might. We'll test him a bit more, and keep his existence to ourselves. I want a trump card for when our alliance goes sour, and our allies leave no shortage of violent death in their wake. He has too strong a will to suborn, that I could tell on meeting him. But an alliance of mutual goals…"

"I shall watch him as I can, Lady Edelgard."

I grinned to myself.

Well begun is half done.

Also, I'd gotten an excuse to prune another disgusting, abusive noble from the world.

Everything's turning up heads for Mith!
____________________________________________________________________________

I hummed as I watched Felix train on a dummy with a blunted blade. He had long dark hair tied into a ponytail, and sharp brown eyes.

"Nice form… I think. Byleth's the main one I'd compare to, and her style is waaaay different from yours. More brutal and direct, really," I said offhandedly.

Felix paused. "You wear blades on your back."

"Long daggers. They're good in a brawl, but not proper swordsmanship. Also good for quick, efficient killing at close range when you're undetected." I shrugged.

He nodded briefly, eyes flickering to me and back to the dummy. "How are you in a straight fight?"

I shrugged again. "I try to avoid them, honestly. Picking people off while they're scared and confused by my illusions or the cover of darkness is easier, and when I fight, it's usually to kill. Namely because when I fight, I've made sure my enemy deserves to die. That, or I just knock them out because the poor morons signed on with the wrong asshole!" I finished with a happy chirp.

Felix scoffed. "Mercy from a mercenary. Will wonders ever cease?" he said dryly.

I grinned. "I'm a big ol' softie, right until I'm not. The people I usually target first are abusers, murderers; people who get off on torture and other sundry unpleasantness. You know?"

Felix nodded slowly. "So why so sweet and cuddly to the boar?"

I blinked. "Pardon?" I said coolly.

"The boar prince. He walks like a man, but he's really just a-" Felix began, eyes narrowing.

I held up a finger. "Look. You've got issues with him. Fair enough. But never, ever compare a human to an animal in my presence." I bared my teeth. "The men and women who killed my family, as I watched, as they tore them apart? Beasts, beasts, beasts. That was the word on their lips. And I've heard it from them again as they killed even more innocents. Be angry with him for not being a good little victim and breaking like a ragdoll instead of having edges, but don't dehumanize him."

Felix paused. "I see. If you've a grievance with that term, then I can respect that boundary," he said stiffly. "But I won't change my mind about it."

I shrugged. "I accept that," I said calmly. "I just… get him, you know? Someone told me that loss and grief can make monsters of us all, if we don't have loved ones to catch us as we fall." A bit of embellishment, but…

"Who caught you?" Felix asked curiously. "Assuming your words have weight," he quickly amended.

"My big sister and niece, mostly," I said quietly. "I did the same for them and my brothers, as best I could." I grinned. "I'm the youngest, actually. Even younger than my niece, if you believe it."

Felix scoffed. "Hardly anything to be proud of."

I shrugged. "I got away with all kinds of trouble, so I'm not too fussed. But… there is one thing I'd like to leave you with, if I may?"

Felix raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"Is it better to be born good, or to fight against one's darker nature?" I asked.

He scowled. "The- prince. You think he's trying to be better?"

"I think making him hate himself won't help. I'm not saying to coddle him, but maybe… half the vitriol? Less if you can manage it," I offered.

Felix huffed. "If he truly wants to be a prince and not a mindless monster," he said, clearly choosing his words carefully, "then he'll need more than me to correct him. Especially with the likes of that lummox following him around."

I grinned widely. "Well then, I volunteer! I'm not too good at being mean to people I like, but I won't pat his ass and call him precious if he turns into a psychopath either."

Felix gave a surprised cough, and rubbed his face. When he dropped his hand, there was a smirk. "Interesting turn of phrase from someone who's been seen so close to the archbishop."

I kept grinning. "Yeah, I talk like this around her too. I'm adorable!" I said with a wave of my hands.

He chuckled dryly. "I see. So tell me…" He lifted his blade. "How do you feel about a spar?"

I sighed, reached behind me, and set my daggers aside. "I think that the lack of training knives is criminal, I'm going to have to go barehanded, and ask you to keep it to like… three-quarters strength so that I can hold my own without my magic."

Felix gave a hum of interest. "You mix brawling and magic?" he said curiously.

"Yeah, illusions," I replied, stretching my arms and legs.

"...use them. First blood?" he offered.

I nodded. "Sounds good!" I chirped.

He scoffed. "Come!"

I charged, and cast a Glamour to go invisible and silent. I quickly followed up with one to mask my footprints in my immediate area.

"Ah," Felix said, closing his eyes and holding his blade in both hands.

I lunged, and had to backstep to avoid his swipe.

"The air still moves when you do," he offered. "Your own sounds are muffled, but I can hear the breeze enough to hazard a guess."

I felt my face stretch in a grin. "How fun!"

Felix spun to look for me as the Glamour projected my voice from a corner, then startled as I clipped his shoulder with a sharp shove.

He immediately spun back, and I ducked under the blade and gave a full kick to his left thigh, sending him tumbling.

He spun to a halt, easily regaining his footing. "Clever," he admitted.

"Not going to berate me for dishonorable combat?" I asked in a sweet tone, making the voice come from the dummy this time.

He smirked. "Honorable combat is for knights. You're fighting in the same style you'd use to survive in battle, and I won't fault you that. You said as much before we began."

"...I'm actually kind of touched. Not enough to go easy, mind," I said warmly, "but definitely some warm fuzzies here."

Felix narrowed his eyes. "Then come," he barked.

I swept forward, and he jumped over my sweeping kick, bringing his blade down on my head.

Well, that wouldn't do.

I dropped the Glamour, and invoked Flechette, the dagger of shadow forming in my hand.

The training sword collided with it, and immediately a crack formed in the blade.

Felix's eyes widened. "What…?"

"Dark magic, Flechette. It's a throwing dirk made of shadow. Not up to par with a good steel weapon, but it can fuck with iron or training gear pretty well," I said with a grin.

My other hand held another Flechette against his neck.

"So… I win this one?" I asked, sweat dripping down my face.

Felix grunted, not in much better condition. "This one."

I sighed in relief. "Whew. You're good. Really good," I said. I dismissed the Flechettes.

He shook his head. "You could have used more offensive illusions to rattle me. I didn't think you would, given your admitted proclivity for handling those you're fond of with kid gloves," he continued, "but you could have." He inclined his head. "Your brawling's better than mine - I'd have been at a disadvantage without a sword. And your Flechettes… how much range can you get?"

I hummed. "Depends. Can go twenty feet, sometimes further."

"If it was a real fight and you were going for the kill, I wouldn't have had a chance," Felix said bitterly.

"Well, I am going to be a teacher, so there's that," I offered. "Also, like we've established - I do like you, and I'd notice if you died. So while I'll pour on effort, I'm also going to be trying to, you know, not maim you or something."

Felix smirked. "How charming."

I grinned. "That's me!"

"There you are," a flat voice interrupted.

I looked over to see Byleth with her arms crossed.

"Heyoh!" I said cheerfully. "How's your batch of hellions?"

Her eyes narrowed. "If I hear Leonie talk about Jeralt one more time, I will throw her down a well. Lysithea is just this side of insufferable, and wants to compare notes on dark magic with you. Lorenz is actually insufferable, but means well. Ignatz needs a spine. You'd like him. Raphael is big, strong, not too bright, but kind. You'd like him too. Marianne is someone you need to talk to so she doesn't throw herself down a well. Try to haunt Hilda into being a more active person. And Claude is as infuriating as advertised," she finished in an exasperated tone.

"How flattering," Felix said in a tone of restrained amusement.

I grinned. "That's my Byleth, best sister anyone could ask for. Also has no time for anyone's bullshit."

Felix chuckled. "So I see."

Byleth hummed. "So, ready to give Jeralt and Rhea a simultaneous heart attack?" she asked in a flat tone.

Yeah, she was looking forward to it.

"If I get Seteth too, do I get bonus points?" I asked in a sugar-sweet tone.

"I heard they have Peach Sorbet in the dining hall," was Byleth's only response.

I felt my eyes widen. "Oh hell yes! Sorry Flayn, but your brother's going to be hyperventilating by the time I'm done!" I cackled.

Felix snorted. "So you can be bribed with sweets to be obnoxious. Good to know," he snarked.

I grinned. "Felix my friend, I can do obnoxious for free. It's doing it well that demands payment," I said with a wink.

He shook his head. "I see." He gave Byleth an appraising look. "Felix of House Fraldarius. I'm sure we'll see plenty of each other." He looked
between the two of us. "Feel free to spar sometime," he said as he walked off.

He seemed a little lighter than when I first saw him.

I grinned. "My name's Mith, by the by!"

He smirked back. "So I heard!"

I kept grinning like a loon all the way to Rhea's office.
 
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Garreg Mach: Adventures in Deersitting
The air at the dinner table was stifling.

Jeralt wouldn't make eye contact with Rhea or Seteth, and kept shooting furtive glances at Byleth.

Rhea ate sedately, utterly composed.

Seteth kept glancing at Flayn and Mith with an increasingly worried expression.

Flayn happily dug into her fish sandwich, either not noticing or outright ignoring the tension.

Mith had a small, catlike grin on his face as his eyes gleamed with mischief.

Byleth felt her soul begin to leave her body.

"Well isn't this cozy?" Mith said in a playful tone as he pushed his empty plate forward.

"Yes! It feels like such a long time since I've shared a meal with so many people," Flayn said happily.

"Family meals are definitely a high point," Myth agreed, eyes sparkling.

"Well, I don't know about family, exactly," Jeralt said slowly.

"That's so interesting! Did you know that in the old days, when a Nabatean shared their blood with a human to grant a Crest, it was essentially adoption? Now, given how the blood fluctuates in new vessels, it's more a legal adoption than extension of a family line," Mith said in a cheerful tone.

Seteth paused mid-bite.

"So given that Rhea shared her blood with Jeralt hundreds of years ago, unless I miss my mark? And she had a hand in creating your mother… yeah, we're all family here!" Mith continued happily, waving at Byleth.

Rhea blinked, eyes flickering around the table.

Flayn gasped. "Truly? That makes us cousins!" she said with a wide smile towards Byleth.

Byleth didn't have the heart to disagree. "Yay."

Flayn blinked.

"You learn to read her. The whole Crest Stone for a heart thing makes it hard for her to emote," Mith drawled.

"WHAT!?"

Byleth sighed as both Jeralt and Seteth launched out of their seats.

Rhea gave Mith a defeated, yet pleading look.

Mith gave her a long glance. "In her defence, without it By would be stillborn, so all's well that ends well," he said primly. "And as an added bonus, she gets Mummy Dearest as a spirit advisor! And thanks to that, I'm here. And in turn, I can permit Mum to interact with the material world more and more as her connection strengthens." Mith gave a beatific smile. "Isn't family wonderful?"

Rhea leaned back, face slightly slack in relief.

"Mummmy… Dearest…?" Seteth croaked.

"Yeah? She has the Goddess' Crest Stone?" Mith said in polite faux-confusion.

Flayn gasped. "Truly!?" she said in awe.

Byleth nodded. "I also have the Crest of Flames."

Jeralt stared at Mith. "You knew?"

Mith shrugged. "I noticed Mum's spectre gaining strength over the past few months. She's napping right now. Rhea explained it when I brought it up."

"And she told you before she told me," Seteth said in a tired voice.

Mith gave him a remorseless stare. "I'm the baby."

Flayn giggled, covering her mouth.

Byleth rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling her lips quirk slightly.

Jeralt collapsed in his chair. "So you figured out the part about the Crest Stone partially on your own. What gave me away?"

Mith held up two fingers. "One, you have the scent of Seiros on you. I can tell Crests by smell, which is handy for noble tracking sometimes." He lowered one. "Two, as the one who surveils the line between life and death, I can sort of tell when a body is failing. Yours is in perfect health, and all projections I can track indicate that it's going to stay that way for a looooong time."

Flayn's mouth made a small 'o' shape. "Oooh. How impressive!" she said, pressing her palms together.

Mith radiated smug as he leaned back in his chair.

"Well, I suppose the absence of secrets is for the better in this case," Rhea admitted. "Though I wish you had warned me beforehand," she continued with a gentle rebuke.

Mith shrugged. "Where's the fun in that?"

Byleth let out a small huff of amusement.

Jeralt gave her a sidelong look and a soft smile.

Seteth groaned. "So much is explained, yet now I have even more questions," he groused.

Mith laced his fingers behind his head, eyes bright. "Well, the reason I wanted to clear all that up is because we'll need to trust and rely on each other in the coming days." His gaze cut to Rhea. "You weren't wrong when you said dark times were ahead."

Rhea stiffened subtly. "How so?"

Jeralt leaned forward. "Who's talking about what, and why," he said gruffly.

"First, I have an informant on the 'black hats'." Mith grimaced. "The Agarthans are moving again. They have roots in the Western Church, though I don't know how deep. There's intelligence moving around, and I don't have physical evidence, but… they're going to try to turn Lonato of Gaspard's grudge active."

Rhea gave a small frown. "If they rebel…"

"I'll want a small team. I believe that Lonato's foster son is attending this year? Him, a stealth specialist of the Knights of Seiros for legitimacy, Byleth, and a few other students to hand-pick. Possibly Flayn or Seteth as well; probably Seteth," he said with a look to the side.

Flayn perked up as Seteth scowled.

"I'll go," he said quickly. "If I am needed."

"Mostly it's to give weight to the possibility of diplomacy. If we bring Alois along, that may seem too warlike. And Catherine…" Mith trailed off. "I haven't had time to investigate her too thoroughly, but I'd prefer someone with a Heroes' Relic as far from me as possible while handling a potentially chaotic situation."

Byleth nodded. "Agreed. If you're going to string along Lonato, we need you at your best."

Rhea hummed. "Lonato's grudge is due to his deceased son, Christophe. If he is available, you may be able to work a miracle." She paused. "For reasons beyond Thunderbrand, Catherine's presence would be a detriment. If such an occasion occurs, I will assign Shamir to your group."

"What reasons?" Jeralt asked, eyes narrowed.

"Catherine turned him over to us. He had been roped into an assassination plot under the impression that I was corrupt. We levied the accusation that he had been involved in the Tragedy of Duscur. As the Kingdom was in chaos, we executed him," Rhea said softly.

Byleth's eyes widened minutely.

"Perhaps removing the veil from his eyes might have been prudent?" Flayn said hesitantly. "If he was truly misled…"

Rhea met her gaze firmly.

"I think that would have been a good idea, but you know how Rhea gets," Mith said with a wave of his arm.

Rhea slumped slightly. "I… yes. You have a point," she admitted.

"I'll need the correspondence then, if it still exists. It would make better proof than his son's shade, should he be extant," Mith stated.

"There was proof beyond Catherine's word, right?" Byleth asked.

"Indeed. I've sealed the letters away, but they exist. I will check my personal archives to ensure they are there, and set them aside for use in case this danger comes to pass," Seteth said firmly.

Mith gave a brilliant smile. "I knew we could count on your hoarding to save the day, Seteth," he said happily.

Seteth scoffed with a fond smile on his face. "You call it hoarding, I call it cataloguing."

Jeralt gave a long sigh. "I need far more alcohol to deal with all this," he grumbled. He paused. "If you'd explained this before, I wouldn't have left," he admitted.

Rhea looked down.

"And I'd still be taking a dirtnap, so let's not go down that road," Mith said glibly.

At that, the physical adults at the table gave a simultaneous wince.

Flayn nodded, a serious look on her face. "However the events in the past played, the most important thing is that we are all here now, working together for the sake of Fodlan. To that end, we must set distrust aside and be forthright with each other." She looked to Jeralt and Byleth.

"I think I'm the one person Mith told all this to…" Byleth said, trailing off.

Jeralt grunted. "He let you in on everything and waited to shock the rest of us. What a surprise," he said dryly.

"This is a common occurrence?" Rhea asked in surprise.

"If he's not pulling a fast one on someone, that means someone's about to die," Jeralt said flatly. "You remember House Bartels?"

"Vaguely. I believe the former heir, Emile von Martritz, is our weaponsmaster. He came to us with his elder sister, who is a student in the Blue Lions' House," Seteth said in a cautious tone.

"Yeah. This was about six years ago. Kid talks to thin air for half an hour. We ignore it, because he's been with us for two years and we kind of got used to it. Then he vanishes, and Byleth just gives anyone who asks the stare." Jeralt crossed his arms.

"...what happened next?" Flayn asked curiously.

"Not a damn clue," Jeralt growled. "He comes back, the other brat in tow, and doesn't bother to say a word. Looked like Rhea whenever someone crossed a line " The mercenary let out a growling sigh. "Next day? The Bartel estate's been ransacked, all of the guards were knocked unconscious, and the noble himself died from exposure - he was locked outside, no clothes, dangling from his balcony."

Byleth sighed. "He wanted to keep Emile with us, but…"

"We didn't need that kind of attention, and we still don't," Jeralt said firmly. "We got the kid to Leicester, Mith told us about his sister, and we called in a favor I'd gotten from the Victor family. He got shipped off to Faerghus, and that was that."

Rhea hummed. "Was Bartels so vile, brother?" she asked curiously. "You often counseled mercy in my darker hours."

"I've been doing mercenary work for a few years, so removing pests doesn't weigh on me - so long as they have it coming," he replied with a distant look.

"Mith?" Flayn asked hesitantly.

"He hurt Emile. Physically, tried to break him into a tool. I think he was going to break in an entirely different way if I hadn't gotten there in time," Mith said quietly.

Byleth stirred. "He was pretty badly off when we got him," she admitted. "There were a lot of marks."

She narrowed her eyes as Mith leaned on the table, hands on his cheeks.

"Well. I've certainly learned more than I intended to tonight," Seteth said tartly.

Rhea sighed. "Well. And here I was, hoping for a peaceful dinner."

Byleth stilled as she watched Mith's eyes open a little.

"Mercy… is important. But I've seen a lot. Some people are tricked, misled, desperate. Those, you can try to save. But then there are those who are cruel for its own sake, or use people up to satiate their own greed." Mith closed his eyes again. "People who hurt others for their own selfish wants deserve whatever pain I can give them."

The table was silent.

Flayn held her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

Seteth averted his gaze.

Byleth… felt chilled. The meal had definitely taken a turn for the darker.

"Well, I've got a mission tomorrow," Jeralt said dryly. "Fun as it's been, I better turn in."

"Of course," Rhea said smoothly.

Byleth looked to Mith. "You want to go grab dessert?"

He smiled a little. "I appreciate it, but not tonight. I'm not really feeling it."

Flayn made a small, concerned sound.

"I'll be fine," Mith said with a bright smile, standing. "Thanks for the meal, Rhea."

Byleth watched as Mith wandered out.

"Anyone else worried?" Byleth said flatly.

"Very," Seteth agreed in a dark tone. "He was not like this before."

Jeralt stood. "It's been a gradual thing. Those fiends have been after us since the brat crawled out of the dirt." He shook his head. "Maybe these kids will be a good influence."

Byleth considered her own pack of idiots. "I certainly hope so."

Jeralt saluted the room and walked out.

Flayn stared morosely at her plate.

"Flayn…" Seteth said gently.

The girl balled her fists in her lap. "Brother." She looked up.

Byleth blinked at the sheer determination in her face.

"We will help Mith step back from this darkness. We have to. We did it once, and we shall again."

Rhea sighed. "After Zanado…"

Seteth nodded.

"What… happened then?" Byleth asked. "He gave me the general idea, but…"

Rhea gazed sadly at Byleth. "He was there, unlike the rest of us. But he was small, and his strength was not what it is now, or what it was during the war. So he hid, and watched as the Goddess' Children were slaughtered and repurposed."

"He saw the making of the Heroes' Relics?" Byleth asked sharply.

That explains much. Too much.

Rhea nodded. "He was inconsolable for months, and even afterwards he would leap at shadows. It took time for us to prepare for war, and once he regained enough of himself, he always counseled for peace where we could make it. It is a large part of how we gathered our own forces, after we turned Hresvelg to our side."

Byleth sighed. "He said he was there. He didn't say… that."

Seteth nodded. "It is my hope that he will regain a measure of peace here, even as he lends his counsel."

Rhea folded her hands and gave a stern look. "So hope we all, Seteth." She paused, then smiled. "Though I am gladdened that the worst of our secrets are unburdened. And I hope that his good spirits return before tomorrow."

Byleth raised an eyebrow. "I agree. But why tomorrow?"

Flayn gasped. "It is his first day on the teaching rotation!"

Seteth rubbed his forehead. "He came to me after meeting with Flayn and issued a lesson plan. Essentially he wants to do a blend of skill applications and spellcrafting. To that end, he wants to teach his theory of Faith and Reason for the mages, and extra tactics for the rest."

"Mm. If I'm needed, let me know," Byleth said. She felt tired. Dinner had begun well enough, but definitely took a turn for the worse.

Still, there was hope that things could improve.
____________________________________________________________________________

Whispers filled the Varley estate.

The lord, son of the Count, fled through the halls, eyes wide in panic. "Father? Guards? Guards!? Elisa!?"

The whispers continued to mount as all were dead asleep, or in the case of the guards, unconscious.

"No, no, no…" he whimpered.

"Oh?"

Slowly, he turned.

The darkness devoured the moonlight, encompassing the entire hall in the direction he faced. Six pinpricks of violet light gazed at him.

"What a wonderful night for a curse. Wouldn't you say, Varley?"

The man stepped back, shivering in terror.

The voice reverberated, taking on a demonic timbre. "Oh, dear. Now don't be so afraid, Varley. After all, I'm sure you acted out of love. Desire to make her a good wife, or some such. Yes?"

Varley whimpered as the darkness enclosed around him, then froze.

The sound of dripping - something liquid hit the floor.

Pale violet lightning mixed with white mist, and a light pushed the dark back ever so slightly.

It took shape. Arms, legs, a head. A small boy, no older than nine.

The boy was mangled. He floated on legs unnaturally bent, arms twisted and broken as they hung in the air. His caved-in face gazed at the noble.

"I wonder, I wonder… do you know what I wonder?" the voice echoed.

The boy opened his mouth as Varley stepped back.

The lights flew closer, and Varley saw what they were.

Six eyes of vibrant amethyst, slitted like a cat's.

"I wonder… between the commoners you used and the daughter you abused… will you be missed?"

Varley felt a keening noise come from his throat.

"Now… harvest the bounty of your sins."

The ghastly, distorted child lunged forward, arms outstretched and mouth agape.

Varley screamed.



When they found his pale, chilled body in the morning, his face was distorted and pale, with purplish marks around his throat.

No other evidence was found.
____________________________________________________________________________

I rubbed my shoulder blades roughly before I turned to put on the new casual clothes I'd acquired.

Byleth had said they were 'overbearing', but I liked them!

A sleeveless black shirt, black trousers and boots, and fingerless gloves that came to my elbows.

I'd also found a lovely choker in the market, too! It was black, of course, but had an amethyst in it. Flayn said it brought out my eyes, though she did say I should wear more color in general.

...I had let her help me pick out some other outfits.

But! Today was my first day teaching, my back was killing me from an overnight flight deep into Adrestian territory, and I would wear what I damn well wanted.

Last night… hadn't been all I'd wanted it to be, for dinner at least. Augh, why did Jeralt have to bring up Bartels!? I mean, saving Emile, sure, but the rest just made people worry!

Stupid. I was fine, really.

I wondered if Byleth would let me claim that sorbet later…

Once I finished putting my outfit together, I began to wander off for the Golden Deer classroom. It didn't take me long to reach the Academy yard.
I flashed Edelgard a toothy grin as I passed, while she was deep in conversation with Hubert. She spared me a momentary look, then resumed her discussion.

Ah, well. She'd find out sooner than later.

I strode up to the podium, and looked at the classroom.

A young lady with pale blue hair was already seated, fiddling nervously with her hands. Sitting next to her was an even younger girl with white hair and pinkish eyes.

The next table had a young man with light green hair, a round face, and round glasses. His partner was easily three times his size, blond, and built of pure muscle.

Closer to the front sat a boy of regal bearing with purple hair and a long face, an artificial rose pinned to his chest. Next to him was a girl with orange hair and tanned skin, likely from a lot of time outdoors.

The other one had Claude, and an empty chair.

I picked up a sheet of paper from the podium. "Alright, I'll do a quick roll call, then get started. First things first, who's missing?" I asked, pointing at the chair next to Claude.

"That would be Hilda, Little Teach," Claude said with a smirk.

"...suddenly my sister's commentary comes clear. Any idea where she is, or should I send one of the locals after her?" I said in a dry tone.

Unseen to any but me, Andella began waving a scrawny arm with a gleeful look on her face.

"Not you," I said, pointing at her.

"Uh, Professor? Who are you pointing at?" the orange-haired girl asked with a look of confusion.

"Claude's dead grandmother," I said easily.

The white-haired girl froze. "Wh-what?" she said.

"Hm? Oh, ghosts can't actually hurt you, not without some serious extenuating circumstances. Nine times out of ten, you won't even notice they're there," I said with a wide smile.

"Faugh. I'd have her here in seconds and you know it," the ghost said with a scowl.

"Yes Nana, but you'd also raise more questions than Claude or I care to answer, so hush," I chided.

The entire class looked perplexed, save for the albino who looked ready to launch out of her seat and through the ceiling.

Claude coughed. "Well Little Teach, Hilda said she had stuff to take care of in the Greenhouse," he said after a moment.

I rubbed my forehead. "Fantastic." I pursed my lips. "Would you mind if I sent your gran after her?" I said after a moment.

Claude shuddered. "I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy, let alone Hilda," he said with a grimace.

"Professorrrrr!" a whining voice echoed.

Byleth strode in, grasping a girl by the arm. She had pink twintails and an irritated pout.

"Ah, yes, our local truant. Thanks sis," I said with a smile.

She gave me a long look. "You feeling better?" she finally asked.

"...I'll be fine eventually," I admitted with a sardonic grin.

She stared a little longer, then nodded. "Let me know if I'm needed." She left with a swirl of her cloak.

Hilda flounced into her chair with a huff. "It was my turn to do the garde-"

"Then wake up earlier and get it done," I said tartly. "This is my time, not yours. Understood?"

Hilda stared at me.

I raised my eyebrows. "So Hilda's here, and I know who Claude is. Raise your hand as I call your name. Leonie?"

The orange-haired girl's arm shot up. "Present!"

"Thank you. Lorenz?"

"I'm in attendance, Professor," the purple-haired noble said in a smarmy voice. His smile looked genuine enough, though.

"Mmkay, Ignatz?"

"Oh! Uh, here, Professor," the green-haired glasses boy said with a minute blush.

Aww. "Raphael?"

"Right here!" the blond giant said with a pump of his fist.

"Then there were two. Lysithea?"

The girl gave me a long stare. "Don't you dare bring any more ghosts in here…" she said in a dire tone.

I smirked. "Couldn't if I tried. And that means you're Marianne," I said with a nod to the blue-haired girl.

"Y-yes." She wouldn't meet my eyes, and what I saw… hrm. She needed support, badly.

"Well! I'm Mith, member of Jeralt's company and adopted member of Jeralt and Byleth's family. Partly because I was so young when they came across me, and partly because I gave them little choice," I said in a joking tone.

They didn't really react, save for Claude whose smirk widened a little. His eyes were still kind of cold though.

"Anyways, what I want to do is get you thinking outside the box. Now, Claude here likely has some experience with that due to his hobby of schemes, but I want you to take the skills you already have and apply them creatively. We'll at least start with theoretical situations, before I run you in training simulations."

"Simulations?" Ignatz asked curiously. He flushed. "Ah, s-sorry, Professor-"

I waved a hand. "I honestly don't expect most of you to know my skillset, so it's fine. And questions are encouraged. So long as they're in good faith, the only bad question is the one unasked." I paused. "Though obviously I'd prefer them to be pertinent to the subject at hand. That said, I'm an illusionist. I can simulate things that do not truly exist, therefore creating a visual and auditory aid for application of theory in a safe and controlled environment. Or unsafe and controlled, if I become peevish enough," I added as an afterthought.

Lysithea straightened up. "Professor Eisner did mention that you were versed in Dark Magic," she said with interest.

"Indeed, and I've created my own spells of a few stripes. Anyone who wants to learn my theories of spellcrafting I've developed on the road will be pleased to know I intend to add it to the syllabus for anyone who chooses it." I smiled.

Lysithea seemed to have fully recovered from her earlier scare, and was displaying no small amount of interest. Marianne, however, was staring at the paper on her desk and avoiding eye contact.

Leonie raised her hand.

"Yes, Leonie?" I asked.

"Not to be rude, but what can you teach those of us who aren't magically inclined?" she asked.

"It's not rude at all, and a valid question. I specialize in stealth and what's colloquially known as dirty fighting. If you want to learn how to fight without a weapon in case you're disarmed? I can help. Close-range, dagger-based combat? I can do that too. Methods to eliminate presence, targets for quick and efficient killing, a variety of alchemical concoctions…" I trailed off. "Also I can teach some flying, but honestly Manuela's a better bet, between you and I."

Leonie nodded, a smile crossing her face. "Got it. Thanks, Professor."

"Hm. While practical, I'm not sure such methods are the most… noble forms of combat," Lorenz said slowly.

I snickered, drawing attention back to me. "Really? The Alliance reminds me of a tale I read once. 'When you play the Game of Thrones, you win or you die,'" I quoted. "In a cutthroat world like politics, removing enemies from the board without indicating you've done so to preserve your good name is a must. If you survive, you win and you rule. If you fail… well, someone didn't check their teacup for discoloration that day, hm?"

Claude coughed. "Strictly speaking, the roundtable discussions and coalitions are meant to cut down on all that," he said sheepishly. "Though I can see where you'd get the idea," he continued.

"In all honesty, you described the current state of the Empire far better than the Alliance," Lysithea said in a pointed, yet not unkind tone.

I hummed. "You're probably right. Well, to actually answer Lorenz's question - sorry for being sidetracked by my own morbidity - even if you never use this knowledge, you'll know what to look for. Identifying a poison before it's ingested, knowing how to detect someone stalking you… learning the skills also lets you learn their counters. Learning one without the other isn't productive," I said with a wave of my hand.

Raphael groaned. "This is gonna be a lot of book learning, isn't it," he said with a sad frown.

I shrugged. "Some. I do like a good hands-on demonstration, so I'll use visual aids where I can. Presence elimination is something learned through practice at the very least, and many other tricks I have to share are the same."

Claude leaned forward. "So… any chance you can teach us how to use illusions?" he asked with a gleam in his eyes.

I grinned. "I'd be happy to. Though, they're rare for a reason - even out of Dark Magic, they're considered difficult to use and harder to learn. That said, at the very least I'd expect you and Lysithea to manage it, given your creativity and her dedication and hard work."

Lysithea puffed up in pride as Claude gave me a searching look before relaxing.

"Wait. How did you know Lysithea is hardworking?" Hilda asked curiously.

I grinned. "Well, Byleth gave me a quick rundown on you guys. She said Lysithea wanted to compare notes on Dark Magic with me, and if she's gotten far enough to use it in a fight, let alone have notes, she's bound to be studious."

"Really? What did she say?" Leonie asked curiously.

I thought for a moment, and shot Claude a look.

He gave a smug smirk that said I was on my own.

"Well, she said that Lysithea was a budding Dark Mage, like myself. Lorenz was a highborn sort, but despite his occasional overbearing nature, that he was a good person at heart. She said Raphael shows great promise in physical combat, and that Ignatz is a sensitive soul. For you, she mentioned that you were Jeralt's apprentice for a time and he taught you a considerable amount. Hilda requires healthy motivation but has potential, and Claude she felt no need to comment on as I speak to his grandmother on a semi-regular basis."

Whew.

Leonie gave a sunny smile. "Aw, so she does like us! Wait." She frowned. "What about Marianne?"

Fuck.

Claude's expression turned serious.

"I believe she said that Marianne had skill in healing, and was very compassionate. However, she worried for her given she seemed withdrawn compared to the rest of you," I said.

Claude's eyebrows went up fractionally, and he gave a slight nod.

Marianne shifted. "Oh… um…"

"Yeah, sounds accurate," Leonie admitted. She raised an eyebrow. "So did you forget about Marianne, or…?"

"Sorry Marianne," I said with a nod towards her. "She seems shy, so I didn't want to make her any more uncomfortable than I needed to."

Leonie sucked her teeth. "Ah," she said. "That makes sense. Sorry for prying," she said, turning to include Marianne in her statement.

The quiet girl nodded, shrinking back into herself.

"So I guess the big question is… what do you want to learn? Today's assignment will be this: think on your strengths, and what I have to offer. What would complement what you can already do? What would cover things you know to be weaknesses? Give me a list by the end of the period, and I can get started on personalized syllabi," I said with a grin. "And if you have questions about anything I didn't mention, please ask. Ultimately, I'm here to help you all grow as much as I can, even if it's within as short a span as a year."

Claude's smile seemed a little more honest. "Alright, Little Teach. So, uh, anyone have a quill and ink…?" he said sheepishly.

I grinned wider. "I'm so glad I got Seteth to stock my desk with spares," I said with a laugh.

Hilda sighed. "I mean, I'm not really cut out for the battlefield, so…" she drawled.

"Oh? Then it's decided!" I said cheerfully.

"Huh?" she said.

"I'm not much for straight fights either. I tend to turn myself invisible and attack from ambush, hiding on the sidelines and picking off stragglers. And when the chaos really gets going, I sneak in and one-shot everyone I can get my hands on," I continued in a happy tone.

Claude's eyes slowly widened as he began to gather what I had planned. His grin stretched from ear to ear.

"Well Hilda of House Goneril, you're in luck! If the thick of combat isn't for you, then I can help you learn to remove enemies efficiently and protect your friends that way. Congratulations! I'm going to teach you how to be an assassin as my first apprentice!" I said with a wide smile.

Hilda's pupils shrank as her face froze in a confused smile. "Huh?"

"Oh, don't worry. I know you prefer axes from Byleth, but that won't slow you down! In fact, throwing hatchets give you some range, and it's possible to handle larger blades from stealth. Hmm, though axes aren't my strongest suit… though Seteth knows a bit! I'm sure he'd love to help, for the betterment of your education," I said in my sweetest tone.

Hilda remained still, eyes wide.

"Uh, Professor? I think you broke her," Leonie said with a sheepish grin.

"Oh no, that comes later," I responded cheerfully.

Claude reared back, bellowing with laughter as he clutched his stomach.

"Honestly, I was hoping for an apprenticeship," Lysithea said with a frown.

"I can teach you my spellcrafting methods?" I offered.

She scratched on her paper with her quill. "Already down," she said with a smirk.

Marianne shifted, looking up at me slightly.

I wandered over. "Questions?"

"Um… what kind of White Magic do you use?" she whispered.

"Aside from Heal?" I raised a hand. "Wanna see?"

Marianne gazed up at me with wide eyes. "Um…"

"It's harmless - more an enhancement than anything," I explained. "Hm. Claude, can I borrow you for a moment?"

"Sure thing, Little Teach," he drawled, wandering over. "What's up?"

I raised a hand. "Just going to put a temporary enhancement spell on you. Think of it like Ward, but sideways."

He raised his eyebrows. "Now this I have to see," he said with some interest.

I made a quick motion with my hand and muttered under my breath. The sigil appeared, and white ribbons spun around Claude, vanishing and leaving multiple afterimages moving in different patterns on top of him.

"Whoa!" Claude yelped. "That's weird," he continued with wide eyes.

"This is Veil, my own White Magic," I said proudly. "It's a localized, persistent Glamour that degrades over time. It'll obscure your movements and maintain itself without my input for the duration. I've found it gives a good amount of leeway to dodge for experienced combatants, and makes landing hits easier by distracting opponents."

"Whoa…" Ignatz said with wide eyes.

"Not bad," Lysithea said with an appraising nod. "Applying a Reason spell as a Faith spell is an interesting twist. How did you do it?"

I scratched the back of my head. "Now might be an odd time to mention that my training is largely informal, so my perspective will differ vastly from, say, Hanneman's and Manuela's," I admitted. "Reason I usually break down the elements of what I want to happen, and layer the blocks back on through force of will and applied manipulation to physical and mystic forces. It's magic through a mix of understanding and concentration, for me," I continued.

"And Faith?" Marianne asked curiously.

"A lot of people use Faith in the Goddess, which is good but not the only route to Faith magic," I continued. "Faith is believing something will happen if you believe in it hard enough, basically. Believing a benevolent deity will cure the wounds of a friend or ally is a good example. There's a reason there's a lot of defensive spells along with light-based smites. The Goddess is associated strongly with light, protection, and kindness, so spells using her as a basis for the Faith reflect that." I crossed my arms. "Basically, I've found that the main difference in the two kinds of magic are more in execution than source. Some magics are easier when you take them apart to the most basic level and apply them in a rational manner. Others are easier when you put faith in an outside force and use them as a focus to invoke the power."

"Interesting," Lysithea said with a sharp look in her eyes. "How would you explain a spell like Seraphim or Silence, then?"

"That's actually pretty easy. Seraphim is notorious for being a monster-slayer. The Goddess empowers heroes and protects from dark creatures, so naturally a boon she would grant is the power to destroy giant, misshapen beasts," I said with wide gestures. "Silence negates all magic, both offensive and defensive, by removing an enemy's ability to cast. It's a sort of… let's call it an offensively defensive spell. It doesn't directly harm, but it is more active than other defensive spells in that you launch it at an enemy."

"For someone without a lot of book learning, you sure put a lot of thought into this, haven't you Little Teach?" Claude said with interest. The Veil was already starting to wear at the edges, so I could make out his expression a little easier.

"Huh… when you put it that way, do you think I could do magic?" Raphael wondered.

"If you want to learn it, I'll do my best to teach you," I responded. "This class is pretty freeform. Want to try applying what you have in new ways? I'll work with you. Want to learn some of my own unorthodox stuff? I'll work with you. I'm here for you guys to better yourselves… assuming you're willing to put the work in," I finished.

Lorenz nodded. "Indeed. Though the syllabus seems a bit in flux, I'll admit the reasoning is sound," he said with a smile.

Hilda sighed. "Okay, look. I'll admit the magic stuff actually sounds kind of interesting, and so does some of your other stuff… but I really don't want
an apprenticeship," she said with a shudder.

Leonie shot her a disappointed look. "Really, Hilda?" she said in a chastising tone.

I shrugged. "It's not for everyone," I said. "And honestly it was more to shock you a bit." I gestured at her. "I get wanting to stay out of conflict. Hell, some of the stuff I've seen has made me want to turn my back on battle entirely. But conflict will always find you and yours, and being able to protect yourself is vital. If nothing else, try to pay attention to what I have so you can keep yourself alive," I said in a plaintive tone. "And a lot of things I have to teach will do that, even if you never step onto a battlefield again."

Hilda sighed. "Fiiiine. I guess if I have to put in effort somewhere, I can do it here. I guess," she said with a pout.

Claude put a hand over his brow as he gazed out the door. "Funny, I don't see any fire or brimstone," he said in a glib tone.

"People can be motivated without it being the end times, Claude," I said dryly.

"But Little Teach, it's Hilda!" he said with a grin as the Veil finally faded.

"Go write up your list of things to learn," I said with a nudge to his shoulder.

Claude held up a sheet of paper with a wide smirk.

It had one word: 'everything'.

I sighed and shook my head. "This is my surprised face."

Ignatz laughed a little. "That's our fearless leader," he said.

Raphael grinned. "Yeah! Y'know, this class looks like it'll be a lot of fun!" he boomed cheerfully.

"The approach to magic alone makes it worth my time," Lysithea said as she leaned over her paper, quill moving rapidly.

Marianne looked up at me shyly, hands folded.

"Feeling comfortable?" I asked.

"Um…" she made brief eye contact, then looked away.

"I personally believe a safe, comfortable learning environment makes for better retention and an easier exchange of ideas," I said. "I'm obviously not above a bit of practical joking, but I will alert you all of any risk well before a lesson, okay?"

"Oh good, now I know which classes to skip," Hilda said dryly.

"I'll make sure she shows up anyway, Professor," Leonie said with a grin.

Lorenz inclined his head. "Regardless, I think we can all agree that we'll be grateful for your policies," he said.

"Agreement? In the Leicester Alliance?" I said in a mock-horrified tone.

Ignatz coughed with wide eyes as Leonie threw her head back and laughed.

"Trust me Little Teach, I'm shocked as well," Claude said with a roguish smile.

I blinked, and grinned myself. The smile actually reached his eyes.

I looked down and to the side at a soft sound, and saw Marianne hiding her mouth behind her hand, eyes scrunched closed.

I kept smiling and didn't say anything.
____________________________________________________________________________

I wandered along into the market, aware of Claude trailing me at a distance.

Eh, he'd join me if he felt like it. Right then, I wanted to pick up ingredients to try making some new dishes.

The oddest thing was that out of an entire mercenary company, only Byleth and I had bothered to learn how to cook beyond the absolute basics.

As I wandered over to the food stands, I blinked as I saw a redhead in a students' uniform talking to a village girl. He had expressive brown eyes, and a handsome face. He was broad, probably near my physical age if I was right… His sleeves were rolled up, and he had a plaintive expression.

I felt my cheeks warm a little. Honestly, he was kind of…

"You think I'd cheat? On you, baby? Never. C'mon, you should know me better than that. You're the only one for me, I swear! Hey, if you don't believe me, well…" he trailed off. His smile quirked up. "Oh, I get it. If I'm not your type, do you want me to introduce you to some other guys who have Crests? They're all nobles, just like me."

Scratch that, he's an ass.

I felt my lips tug downwards in irritation and my brow furrow.

"What? That isn't why I…" the girl started, taken aback.

"What a slug," Andella said to my side, beads rattling in her hair as she shook her head. She frowned thunderously. "If my Nazir treated any woman like that, I'd have-"

"Axes and eyes?" I muttered. "I'm with you on that, Nan."

She gave me a sharp nod. "You, I'll teach to woo a woman properly. Flowers! Flowers, food, jewels. All gathered or made by hand," she said decisively.

Oh brother. "If I find a lady, I'll be sure to ask questions," I said out of the corner of my mouth as I turned to the produce stand.

Then I exhaled slowly as I heard the girl's breath quicken and break with sniffling.

"I just want you to be happy. You know, get what you're after. I hate seeing a girl cry, especially one as beautiful as you. So you know, maybe we…" the guy continued.

"Oh fucking hell, quit while you're ahead!" I snapped out, feeling my eyes light up. I stalked over, fists clenched. "Really? Does this look like the reaction of a noble hunter to you?" I hissed, gesturing at the girl.

She was a mess, eyes dripping with tears as she hurriedly wiped her face.

To his minimal credit, the redhead looked mildly taken aback.

I gave an angry sigh. "C'mon, let's get you away from this goon," I said in as gentle a tone I could manage, escorting her away. "You can do so much better than some asshole who gets his rocks off by hurting people."

The girl blinked at me with wide eyes as we moved away. I flat-out ignored the guy.

"Whoo, child. That's some fire," Andella said appreciatively.

"I… thanks," the girl said softly after we got a distance away. "I don't…" She sighed. "I mean, I figured it was temporary, but he said all these things, made all these promises…"

"Actually the worst," I griped.

She gave a watery giggle. "Yeah," she agreed. "Next time, I think I'll just ask out the baker's son or something," she confided in me.

"Hey, free bread. Maybe pastries if he's got the skill," I said pointedly.

Her smile widened a little. "That's true." She shook her head. "I never got your name…?"

"Mith. I teach up at the Academy," I said with a grin.

"Well, if there's anything I can do to repay you…" she trailed off.

"Help me haggle for foodstuffs, and we're even. I usually piss people off before I get them to lower prices," I admitted.

"Alright," she said, wiping her eyes clean. "I'm Allie, by the way," she said with a gentle smile. She giggled. "I'm glad it's just haggling. I don't think I'm up for a date right now," she admitted.

I smirked. "I'm not shopping around for a relationship myself. Though I will say that as bad as I feel for what happened, I'm glad I saw it before I hit on that shithead," I finished with a shudder.

Allie let out a wild giggle. "Oh Goddess! I can only imagine!" she said breathlessly.

I snickered along with her as Andella shook her head fondly, unseen.
____________________________________________________________________________

I hummed happily as I carried the bundled groceries back up to the Monastery.

Claude slipped from around a corner and slung an arm over my shoulder. "So, noticed you ran into one of Dimitri's Lions down there," he drawled.

"I'm sure if I'd gotten in over my head, you'd have bailed me out," I said assuredly. "Figure out anything new about me?" I asked with a grin.

Claude smirked. "Not much. You're a bit nosy, but that's not a bad thing. Though… I think there's more to Sylvain than meets the eye, just to warn you."

Sylvain. That was one of Felix's friends, according to Glenn.

"Hmph. That boy could use a thrashing to learn some manners," Andella said irritably.

"Your Nan disagrees," I said wryly. "Though I don't know if she just disapproves of how he handles women or if she's been watching his conduct elsewhere."

Claude paused, a brief look of sadness crossing his eyes. "Who knows."

I pursed my lips. "Look. My Crest works by blood. If I shed some with intent, I can give her form for a little while. If you need some time with her, I can arrange some time in private," I said quietly after a moment.

Claude stared at me.

"You seem kind of lonely, and it sounds like you were close. Are? Ugh, people on one side of the divide confuse me," I complained.

He sighed. "I dunno. Dead's dead, and I wouldn't…" he trailed off.

Andella snorted. "His parents love him, but there's a difference between coddling and the basic care a child's entitled to. I've seen Fodlan now, and I know Almyra in my soul. He deserved better from both," she said tartly.

"Then if you need a shoulder to lean on, claim mine," I said. Internally, I hit myself.

Stop being clingy. If Felix hadn't been secretly lonely or something, you'd have driven him off too.

Claude gave a soft laugh. "I appreciate the offer," he said. His eyes actually matched his words. "I'm going to be level with you for a minute. I know, the horror," he said with a grin. His smile faded after a moment. "I can only assume you know where I'm from, and at least some of my more dangerous secrets. But… I don't think you've told anyone." He looked me in the eye. "Why?"

I sighed. "Honestly? I got enough from your Nan to know you're not a bad sort. Kind of squirrelly, but from what little I know of Almyra…" I shook my head. "Yeah, you have your reasons for putting walls up. I know what it's like to not have a lot of friends," I admitted. "For a long time, Jeralt and Byleth were it. With maybe an exception or two."

The time Emile spent with us and my little excursion to Sreng still held in my mind, as well as the time a certain cranky scholar-tactician followed us around before he started doing his own investigations.

"Really?" Claude said with a furrowed brow. He left his arm on my shoulders.

I gave him a wry smile. "Talking about people's dead relatives and their commentary on their current lives doesn't win fans, surprisingly. It took me a year to figure it out because Jeralt was already numb to weird shit and Byleth just didn't care."

I blinked as I felt his hand curl around my shoulder furthest from him.

"That's… it's a gift and a burden, what you have," Claude said, dead serious for the first time since I met him. "I can understand people being a little scared of you, but that doesn't mean you should be alone."

I shook my head. "I've got Byleth and Jeralt, and Rhea's pretty much adopted me along with Seteth and Flayn," I said. "Though it helps I'm actually related to those three," I admitted.

"That's good," Claude said.

"And I've started making friends here, too. I think Felix approves of me, at least. After I knocked him around a bit," I continued.

"Of course," Claude agreed with a grin.

"And… maybe we're friends?"

I internally hit myself again.

"...I'd like that," Claude admitted, his smile turning a little shy.

I grinned. "Friends it is, then," I said happily.

Claude chuckled. "You're an odd one. But hey, I've got no room to talk," he said with a wink and a squeeze to my shoulder. "I'm gonna go wrangle the Deer for dinner. Spirits know if no one reminds her, Lysithea won't eat," he said wryly as he let go.

"See you around," I said. "Odds are, with the balancing act I'm trying to do here… I'll need a schemer to help me keep this continent from imploding."

His eyebrows rose.

"I can't bring you in on everything yet, but… there's a lot of plates to carry, and I'm not going to be able to do it all by myself. That said, according to your Nan our goals line up pretty neatly," I said firmly.

Claude smirked. "Well, if it gets me closer to my dream and keeps things from turning into a huge mess, I can help with it," he said easily. He winked at me again. "And I do love a good scheme. Count me in."

I sighed in relief. "That really takes a burden off of my shoulders," I admitted. I smiled again. "Hopefully I can be of help to you too."

Claude offered his hand, then remembered my arms were full. "Uh. Yeah." He chuckled awkwardly and slapped my shoulder.

I snickered. "Nice."

"Shut up," he said playfully. "But really, I gotta go. See you?"

I nodded. "Sounds good."

As he wandered off, he turned around. "By the way!"

I blinked.

"Nice job with the class!"

I grinned goofily as I wandered toward the dining hall and we went our separate ways.
____________________________________________________________________________

I hummed as I carried dinner over to where Byleth was sitting. It had taken a little needling, but they let me use the kitchen, thankfully.

She looked up, and her eyes crinkled slightly in one of her smile approximations. "Doing better?"

I grinned. "Well enough."

She nodded. "Jeralt's out on a mission," she said, gesturing to the mostly empty table.

I set her plate in front of her. "I recall something to that effect from last night," I replied.

"He'll be back for the mock battle next weekend," she continued.

A body perched themselves in the seat next to Byleth, taking up my view.

I blinked as I recognized Felix's messy bun - not a ponytail, I thought as I berated myself for an earlier mistake.

"Felix?" I said flatly.

He set his plate down. "I submit myself to your protection," he replied in an icy tone.

"Bwuh?" I blinked.

"Sit. Eat."

I sat next to him. "What's up? If it was a punch-out, I'm sure you'd have it in hand," I said curiously.

Felix opened his mouth.

"Hey, there you are Felix!" a vaguely familiar voice chimed in.

I felt my head slowly turn to take in Sylvain as he stood with his own tray.

"Oh. It's you," he said in a dull tone.

I blinked. "Who are you again?" I asked politely.

Sylvain gave a terse smile. "Sylvain Jose Gautier. And you?"

I gave my best shit-eating grin as Byleth audibly sighed and Felix's eyes widened.

"I'm Mith! Adjunct professor, illusionist, and assassination expert! So glad to meet you," I said in a syrupy tone.

Sylvain scowled. "Charmed. You mind moving? I was hoping to talk with my friend over dinner," he said tersely.

"Bite me," I said sweetly. I immediately turned and ignored him.

Felix made a choking sound as I began to busy myself with my food.

"Oh, hello Sylvain, Felix," a soft voice said in a happy tone. I noticed the speaker sit across from me.

I peeked up.

The woman had long flaxen hair in a side plait, and wore a shawl over her shoulders. She had heavy-lidded eyes and a kind smile.

There was something familiar...

"My name is Mercedes von Martritz," she said in that same tone.

I perked up. "Emile's big sis?" I said excitedly.

"Oh, yes! You know him?" she asked, eyes sparkling.

"Yeah! Is he around? I haven't had a chance to say hey yet. It's been years since I saw him last," I responded with a wide grin.

"Excuse me," Sylvain said irritably.

"You're excused," I chirped.

Over Mercedes' shoulder, I saw Glenn plant his face in his hands.

"Mith," Byleth said in a foreboding tone.

I gave her a dazzling smile. "When you have to talk one of his victims down from a crying fit, then you may criticize," I said sweetly.

Her eye twitched.

"Are you Ingrid now?" Felix asked dryly.

"Whomst?" I blinked.

"You would either kill each other or wed," he said with dark certainty.

Mercedes giggled. "I do hope you get along," she said pleasantly. She tilted her head. "But I must ask - however did you meet Emile?"

"He rescued me from House Bartels," a deep voice responded.

A tall, broad man with hair like Mercedes sat next to me. His bare face had some lines that belied his relative youth.

"Emile!" I said happily, swinging an arm around his shoulder.

I noticed Sylvain sit next to Mercedes, a tired scowl on his face.

"Good to see you," Byleth said with a two-fingered salute.

The man gave a wan smile. "It is good to see the both of you well. Sister?" he asked, turning to Mercedes.

The woman had both hands over her mouth, eyes quivering.

"You alright?" I asked worriedly.

She leaned forwards and took my hands in hers.

"Er?" I blinked.

"Thank you so much," she said with a wavering smile. "I'd had no idea- You…" She swallowed. "I can never repay you returning my brother to my mother and I. Thank you," she repeated, smile widening.

Felix gave an interested hum. "How did that occur?"

Sylvain also looked kind of interested, though I was still doing my best to ignore him.

"Well, I broke into the Bartels Manor, busted Emile out, and got him to Leicester. The Victor family owed us for unforeseen hazards on a previous job, so they sent him to Faerghus with one of their caravans on our behalf," I explained. "Uh. His father's not going to show up anytime soon," I admitted with embarrassment.

"No, really?" Byleth said dryly.

"Hey, I made sure to exorcise him," I whined.

Sylvain's eyes widened. "You killed a noble in his own home?" he hissed.

I frowned. "He had it coming."

Sylvain's eyes flicked to Emile and Mercedes. "I believe you," he said smoothly. "I haven't heard much, but what I have heard…"

Felix hummed. "Your illusion abilities must be more impressive than I thought, to have accomplished such a feat without reprisal."

"He had allies, but they were targeting me anyways," I said dismissively. "They killed my family and wanted to off me to complete the set."

Felix's eyes narrowed. "I see."

Sylvain gave me a brief look, then began eating, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Mercedes said mournfully.

"I found Byleth and Jeralt later, though. And it turns out Rhea's a relative, so I found family here too," I assured her. I jolted. "Crud! My honeyed ham's going to get cold…" I grumbled as I began to cut my piece up.

Byleth let out a soft huff as I dug in.

Emile chuckled. "It's good to see some things haven't changed. Namely, your incorrigible sweet tooth," he said knowingly.

Mercedes shook her head, smiling. "If you like sweets, I simply have to bake for you sometime. Oh, and you should talk to Annie! I'm sure you two would get along well," she said.

"Annie?" I asked.

"Annette Dominic," Felix explained. "She's in our House. Reason magic specialist, Black Mage."

I started eating, so I nodded in response.

"He's getting his sugar fix, so good luck getting him to talk now," Byleth said dryly.

"Tragic," Sylvain said dryly.

I didn't deign to respond.

"So tell me," Byleth said in a too-calm voice. "What did Mith mean when he said your 'victim'?"

Sylvain balked, so I decided to 'save' him.

I swallowed my food. "He's a manwhore," I said primly, then resumed eating.

Glenn's spectre began slapping his forehead repeatedly as Felix let out a choked laugh.

"Oh dear," Mercedes said with wide eyes.

Emile just grinned. "As I said. It is good to see some things have not changed."

Sylvain gave me a long look. "You know, before I dumped that girl I noticed you staring our way and blushing. Did she give you something nice?" he said sardonically.

"She helped me haggle so I didn't pay full Anna rates for this food, so I'd say yes," I replied.

Byleth looked over at me and narrowed her eyes.

"And that's all?" Sylvain asked.

"It's all I requested of her." I focused on my food.

"Sylvain. Stop baiting him before he knocks your teeth out," Felix said frankly.

Sylvain grunted and turned to his food. "Whatever. You can pretend to be some noble hero all you like."

I gave him a sidelong look. "I'm not noble or a hero. I just like helping people."

Sylvain met my eyes, then smirked and gave me a wink. "Sounds pretty heroic to me. But hey, girls love that so I can't blame you."

I scowled and went back to eating, quietly applying a Glamour so nobody would see my cheeks redden.

Ugh. The worst.
____________________________________________________________________________

"Lady Edelgard?" Hubert asked.

She set the paper down on the table before her. "He did it."

Hubert narrowed his eyes. "I noticed his absence last night, but that is not enough time to get to the center of Adrestia, assassinate a man, and return."

"And yet I have received a report from our allies that Count Varley's son is dead of strangulation, yet somehow also died screaming. His entire household remained asleep." Edelgard turned to Hubert. "We must ready ourselves to lend Bernadetta our support when she receives the news, should she require it."

"She is fragile," Hubert admitted. "Though I would not weep to see my own father dealt with in such a manner."

Edelgard crossed her arms. "What have you observed today?"

"He has yet to truly teach, but has established a rapport with the Golden Deer House. I believe that he intends to freely offer his knowledge based on what the students desire to learn," Hubert said succinctly as he moved to pour tea for Edelgard.

"Thank you, Hubert. And outside of that?"

"He has made contact with Emile von Martritz, and continues to associate with Felix Fraldarius. There seems to be some friction with Gautier, but nothing that should result in bloodshed," Hubert said coolly. "Emile's sister seems to have taken a liking to Mith as well, and I spotted Claude being overtly friendly towards him. To the best of my knowledge, it does not seem to be a scheme."

"Hm. Most likely, he is lonely," Edelgard deduced. "A mercenary life does not permit one to form many close bonds, and with his talents it's unlikely that his band were particularly open with him."

"I suppose," Hubert said noncommittally.

"Our allies have targeted him for years, apparently. And yet he lives," Edelgard said in a smooth, unruffled tone. She sipped her tea.

"Indeed. It speaks well to his strength that he has survived so long," Hubert agreed.

Edelgard's eyelids lowered in thought. "If we take what he has said at face value - that he is not human, but of the same ilk as the Immaculate One, and that he has the power he says he has… that alone makes him valuable. However, there is a detail that has caught my attention."

Hubert arched an eyebrow. "Yes, Lady Edelgard?"

"What are the Heroes' Relics forged from?" she murmured. "He seems to have great distaste for them, which is a reaction I haven't seen before. He knows something crucial about them, and I must know what that is." She raised her eyes. "Hubert."

He bowed.

"We have our first class with him tomorrow. Please deliver a letter beforehand dictating a meeting here to discuss the information he offered." She paused. "Also, we owe him on our end. Prepare a dossier on the Western Church's activities in Gaspard. They are minor enough that they bring us no real benefit, and we may well gain more by seeing how he utilizes that knowledge."

"As you command, your highness."
 
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Mith Character Sheet 2
Battle Quotes!

When Selected
  • "On and on!" (Full Health)
  • "That stings..." (Medium Health)
  • "Are you trying to get me killed!?" (Low Health)
Enemy Deals Low Damage or Misses
  • "There was an attempt!"
  • "Denied!"
Critical Attack
  • "Time's up!"
  • "Can you hear the call!?"
  • "Stand and perish!"
  • "I pity you!"
Critical Attack - Agarthans/Special
  • "You deserve this!"
  • "Even death won't spare you!"
  • "Beg for oblivion!"
  • "Weep in emptiness!"
Gambit
  • "Beginning infiltration."
  • "How about some applied force?"
Gambit Boost
  • "I'll support you!"
  • "Rely on me!"
Defeated Enemy
  • "Is that enough?"
  • "Another day, another ghost."
  • "Rest now."
  • "Time to tend to the living."
  • "This is for the people I protect."
  • "No regrets."
Defeated Enemy - Agarthan/Special
  • "Rot."
  • "I'll savor this memory."
  • "Wretch."
Ally Defeats Enemy
  • "Keep up the momentum."
  • "Are you okay?"
Ally Heals/Rallies
  • "I appreciate you!"
  • "That's so much better."
"Not like this... time to bow out." - Retreat

"Alone at the end... it's just like..." - Death
 
Garreg Mach: Avians and Honesty
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.
 
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Garreg Mach: Knights and Knaves
Byleth crossed her arms as she sat at the table, Rhea across from her.

"Whatever is the problem, Byleth?" Rhea asked curiously.

It warmed her a bit to hear Rhea acknowledge her as a person, rather than the professor or with the… strange fixation she had earlier.

Byleth shook her head. "A little bird told me Mith has a date. Maybe. The language was ambiguous," she said flatly.

Rhea's eyes widened. "Him?" The archbishop folded her hands and gazed down in thought. "He's grown, but… Well, I suppose I never got to see the phases of him emerging from childhood," she said sadly.

Byleth exhaled through her nose. "The thing is, he was just asked to dinner, and I believe the words were 'it's a date'." Her eyes cut to the side.

"Yes, that's what I heard," Sothis said with a pout. "He was so besotted by that girl he didn't even notice me while I was there - or after I left!"

"So the person is a girl…" Byleth murmured.

Rhea gave a hum of interest. "Do you know where they intend to meet? And what is the significance of the person being a girl?"

"The dining hall," Byleth replied, looking up. "And Mith doesn't really have a preference for gender. I've seen him gaze longingly after men as often as women. It's less anything important, and more something to note."

"What are you two up to?" Seteth asked, striding forward.

"Mith has a date," Rhea said with a small smile.

Seteth shrugged. "And? He is a young man. Such things happen."

"He is Flayn's junior, the youngest of us all," Rhea explained. "Is it not a source of interest?"

Seteth looked skyward. "Goddess defend us," he muttered, barely audible to Byleth.

Sothis snorted. "Seteth is right. Look to your own fortunes and leave the boy alone," she chided.

Byleth politely ignored her, as she was the only one to hear her.

There was a slapping sound on the stone, and Byleth looked down.

Mac's beady eye was fixed on her.

"Oh dear." Seteth looked exhausted. "What hell have you wrought now, Macuil?"

Mac blinked.

Byleth frowned. "You'd better not ruin Mith's date," she chided.

The goose gave a honk that sounded almost offended in tone.

Rhea sighed. "I suppose we had best start searching to see what he's done to my knights. Or, Goddess forbid, the students."

Macuil preened, wearing an aura of smugness.

Byleth felt a headache coming on.

"Hm. This could be of interest," Sothis mused. "Come! Let us away, and discover the mischief of the goose!" she cried, thrusting her arm into the air, pointer finger extended.

"I'll look into it," Byleth said as she stood.

Rhea gave her a grateful smile. "Many thanks. Did the class like the reward for yesterday?" she asked.

Byleth nodded. "The new weapons were well-received, as were the medical supplies. The Deer are feeling optimistic about their chances in the mock battle."

Seteth hummed. "Just remember that you can field half of your officers, and consider carefully who you wish to bring into the fray." He paused. "Where should we put Mith for it?"

This caused all three to pause in thought.

"HONK."

Mac took flight through the halls.

"Right, goose mischief, fix it," Byleth muttered.

"The goose is loose! It's loooooose!" Sothis shouted dramatically.

"Rhea-" Byleth began.

"Off you go, and keep him from getting into too much trouble," the archbishop said with a nod.

Byleth strode off quickly, focused on her task.
____________________________________________________________________________

Byleth strode through the grounds as Sothis flit from point to point.

"Hmm… this could be entertaining," Sothis said with an air of interest.

"Speak for yourself. You didn't have to spend five years of Mac stealing Jeralt's armor, weapons, booze, and occasionally underwear," Byleth said dryly. "And don't get me started on what he put the mercs through. The instant they catch sight of him, they'll flee."

"Oh? So they're cowards?" Sothis said musingly.

"No, they just know better." Byleth narrowed her eyes as she heard loud yelling from the second floor dormitories.

Ferdinand leaned out the window. "My tea! I had a box of Almyran Pine Needles, freshly imported, and it's gone!" he shouted, aghast.

Byleth sighed.

Manuela staggered up to Byleth. "My hangover remedy is gone." Her eyes were bloodshot, and she looked like a mess.

At that, Byleth perked up. "You mean these?" she asked, offering a small bundle of herbs. "I found them on the ground a day ago."

Manuela slumped. "Thank the Goddess, yes. You're heavenly, Professor," she said in gratitude. She raised a hand in thanks, and shuffled off back towards her room.

"Well, that wasn't Mac's doing, but at least you helped her," Sothis said as she flit around. "I think there's something going on by the… oh my," the spirit breathed.

Byleth turned and felt her eyes widen.

"No, no, nonono!" she said, running over towards the fishing pier.

Mac stood atop a pile of fishing rods.

In his beak was a lit match.

"Mac, listen, don't do it," Byleth said rapidly in her montotone.

The goose stared at her for a long moment.

Then he kicked one off the pile, and it rolled to her feet.

Byleth sighed in relief.

He dropped the match, and shot straight into the air.

The blaze erupted with such speed that Byleth knew it was magic.

Byleth stared morosely at the pile of burning fishing poles.

Elsewhere, Ferdinand continued to mourn the loss of his tea.

"Goodness," Sothis said with wide eyes. "I did not expect all this."

Loud shouting emerged from the dining hall.

"Shit," Byleth swore, dashing in the direction of the latest shenanigans.
____________________________________________________________________________

Whatever Mac had gotten up to when I took my eyes off of him, he stopped just in time for classes.

The look Byleth had given me was dire, to say the least.

I strode into the Blue Lions' classroom, noting the absence of most of the students.

Mercedes sat next to a redheaded girl with styled hair that curled into a pair of circles at the base of her neck. They were the- wait.

I blinked as I noticed Sylvain sitting in the center row, near the middle of the room to the right.

"Good morning, Mith," Mercedes said cheerfully.

I opened my mouth, then looked down.

There was a box on the podium.

"Good morning?" I said in confusion. I lifted it, and opened it.

Ground plant matter was inside the box, and the scent was sharp to my nose. Not unpleasant, but sharp.

"Whatcha got there?"

I jolted a bit as Sylvain stood next to me. He was taller by an inch or so, but this close it was noticeable.

He took the box from my hands, and opened it. His brow furrowed in concentration. "Almyran Pine Needles? Didn't figure you for the type."

"That's an interesting choice of tea," the redheaded girl commented.

"I prefer Honeyed Fruit, Sweet Apple, or Bergamot," I said as I blinked at the box. "How did this get here?"

Sylvain shrugged and stepped out of my personal space. "Search me," he said with a grin. "Maybe that goose dropped it here."

I snorted. "I can see it," I muttered.

"Hm. Someone's probably looking for it," Mercedes said with a kind smile.

"I'll put up a note on the bulletin board after class," I decided.

"Oh, I almost forgot! This is Annie," Mercedes said, motioning towards the other girl.

"Annette Dominic," she said with a bright smile. "And you're Mith, right?"

"That's right," I agreed. I looked to the side, and Sylvain stood there with his arms crossed and an amused smile on his face. "Yes?"

"Hm? Well, class hasn't started yet," he said, stretching his arms over his head. "So I figured I'd stay up here and keep you company."

"Company," I repeated dully.

He gave me a roguish grin. "Yep. I figure we got off on the wrong foot, so…" he trailed off as I gave him an unimpressed look.

"You apologize to Allie yet?" I said flatly.

Sylvain coughed. "Uh…"

"How about the other women you've led on?" I asked.

The noble grimaced. "Okay then…" he muttered.

Mercedes waved a hand. "Mith? Is everything okay?"

I gave Sylvain a long look. "Apologize to all of them, then we can talk," I said coolly. "I don't want to pick needless fights, but I'm not going to wear a fake smile and play at being friends with someone whose ethics I abhor. Quit hurting people, and maybe we can work something out."

Sylvain gave a wide, obviously fake smile. "Well you just got me all figured out, don't you Professor?"

"Guys?" Annette said quietly.

Sylvain put his hands in his pockets as he wandered back to his seat. He shot me a look I couldn't quite interpret before he sat down and promptly leaned on the desk.

Mercedes and Annette shot me worried looks.

I raised an eyebrow. "Everything alright over there?" I asked.

"Oh, yes!" Mercedes said. "Just… are you alright?"

I blinked. "Yes?"

I was distracted by movement at the entrance to the room.

A girl with long, braided hair strode in purposefully.

Sylvain looked up. "Hey, Ingrid," he said with an easygoing smile. It was still fake, but he was forcing it anyways.

"Sylvain? You're early," she commented with a furrowed brow. She sook a seat behind Annette and Mercedes, across the aisle from Sylvain. Then she looked up at me expectantly.

"I'm Mith, no surname. You're Ingrid I take it?" I said.

She gave a sharp nod. "That's right," she agreed with a smile. "It's good to meet you, Professor. His Highness spoke well of you, and Felix… spoke of you," she said with a curious look.

"High praise from Felix, then," I said in amusement.

"Pretty much. Neutral's the nicest I've seen him be over most people for a while," Sylvain remarked.

"Is it true you got him to stop calling His Highness that horrible nickname?" Ingrid blurted.

I blinked. "I asked him not to use it around me, and we talked a bit about why… I didn't expect him to extend the courtesy to Dimitri, honestly."

"Wait, you're the one that got Felix to ease up on His Highness?" Sylvain said, blinking rapidly. He made a soft, contemplative sound. "That makes a certain kind of sense…"

I squinted at him. "Eh?"

Sylvain shrugged. "Nothing important," he said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes as another person entered.

"Sorry I'm late!" the grey-haired boy said. He had pale skin, freckles, and large, expressive eyes.

I rubbed my forehead. "You're not late yet," I said with a laugh.

"Oh, good! Um, I'm Ashe, Ashe Ubert," the boy said as he slipped in next to Ingrid. "It's really nice to meet you - and thanks for helping His Highness!" he said with a bright smile.

"And it seems we've all arrived," a familiar voice commented.

I turned my attention back to the door to see Dimitri, Dedue, and Felix walk in.

"Good, good!" I said happily as Dimitri and Dedue took the other front table, while Felix sat with Sylvain. "Honestly, since I managed to meet about half of you outside of class, I'll skip the roll call."

"I think the only ones you hadn't met were Ashe, Annie, and Ingrid," Mercedes said with a smile.

"But I'm his favorite," Sylvain said with a wink.

"In what reality?" I said, nonplussed.

Felix made a sharp coughing sound.

"Anyways, quill, ink, paper. If you haven't heard my specialties, then I work with spell crafting and experimentation, stealth and dirty fighting. My direct combat tends towards brawling mixed with illusions and knives. I can also teach some flying. Anything that appeals to you, please write it down so I can compose a syllabus," I said briskly.

Dimitri hummed. "A good many of us are knights, so those sort of tactics don't work for our needs," he said contemplatively.

"I can also teach you counter-tactics, as well as how to recognize attempts on your lives. Checking for poisons and the like is always a good ability to have," I pointed out.

Dimitri nodded. "Indeed it is." He paused. "Edelgard also approached me this morning with a curious tale of your stance on Faith magic?"

Mercedes perked up a little. "Oh? How so?"

I chuckled nervously.

"He believes that using different religions as foci for Faith magic could yield different results," Dimitri explained.

"Hm. Duscur had many gods. What do you think would come of beseeching their aid?" Dedue asked.

I shrugged. "I'm unfamiliar with the pantheon worshipped in Duscur, so I'd need to learn more about what gods governed what aspects of reality. With that knowledge, I could come up with theories. I also intend to speak with Petra about the spirits of Brigid to see if the magic used there could be recreated with Fodlan techniques."

"That's pretty ambitious, Professor," Sylvain said. "Does the Church know you intend to do that kind of research?"

"What are they going to do? Excommunicate me?" I asked. "And given the fact that Rhea herself gave me free reign? Please, let some uppity Bishop try to mess with me. I welcome the challenge."

"How… bold…" Ingrid said haltingly, shooting glances at Ashe, whose jaw had dropped.

"Is it? If the archbishop gave him discretion - and she seems to know him better than most of us here - she's tacitly condoning whatever he chooses to teach," Felix said dryly.

I shrugged. "I was a little less 'embodiment of merry chaos' when I was a wee brat, but she knows who I am. She knew what she was letting loose on you all."

Dimitri shrugged with a small, amused smile. "I, for one, am wholly unsurprised. I've seen you in full form."

"And if Mac is your Familiar, then it makes sense that you'd have this sort of thing in common," Mercedes said with a warm smile.

Annette shook her head. "Kind of strange, but I don't see any harm in it. Most Faith magic revolves around the Goddess, so maybe something new could be interesting…?" she trailed off.

I clicked my fingers and pointed at her. "Exactly! More shamanistic or polythestic sources of faith would yield different results! Honestly, one thing I discovered in my travels was that the Goddess herself was a temporal deity first and foremost. And yet the white magic practiced by Fodlan tends towards light, defense, and healing - which are more hallmarks of Seiros herself. Because of how the religion was shaped, it had a powerful impact on belief-based magic systems," I said excitedly.

"You're really fired up about this, aren't you?" Sylvain said in an amused tone.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Annette said, getting into it. "It sounds so fascinating!"

Ingrid shot a quick look at Dedue. "So… what exactly would the people of… Duscur... have, if not white magic?"

I hummed. "I dunno. I haven't been by the country, and I hear things are pretty rough at the moment. Not sure if they'd want me sticking my nose in."

Not that I'd mind introducing Kleiman to some of the Tragedy's victims…

Mercedes hummed thoughtfully. "Dedue, would you be willing to teach us about Duscur's culture and religion?"

The stoic knight gazed at the class. "Duscur is gone. Any discussion of such things is purely academic."

"Oh look, we're a school. Learning is what we do, and if you guys want to learn about Duscur, then if Dedue gives the go-ahead I'll put it on the syllabus," I said firmly. I looked over to him. "And honestly? Preserving your culture in writing and by spreading knowledge will be useful once you can get Duscur back on its collective feet. Having a history and culture brings people together."

Ingrid lowered her eyes for a moment.

"You seem optimistic about the chances of Duscur coming back from what happened," Dedue said as he shook his head.

I looked over to Dimitri. "Well, if the High King of Faerghus has something to say about it…" I trailed off.

Dimitri nodded, a wide smile in place. "Precisely, Professor. I believe that Duscur as a whole deserves a second chance."

I waved a hand. "Not to mention the grand majority of its people had no hand in what happened. A lot of innocents got put to the axe in that hellstorm of rage and hate." I didn't smile. "Truly, there were far more victims than perpetrators in Duscur."

Not to mention it wasn't them who set the whole thing off, but letting that drop in a class environment didn't seem politic.

To do: Tell Dimitri the Truth in Private.

Dimitri gave a solemn nod. "I wholeheartedly agree, Professor."

"Um - sorry to backtrack, but… you said the Goddess is a 'temporal deity'. What does that mean?" Ashe asked in polite confusion.

"The Goddess had a hand in protection, healing, and whatnot, but that was out of personal preference rather than it being her explicit domain. That domain was Time, which lent itself to those pursuits rather neatly," I explained.

"How did you find this out?" Ingrid asked, gaining interest.

"From the first bearer of my Crest," I replied.

And it was even true! From a certain perspective…

"You met Saint Emyth'solan?" Ashe said, eyes wide.

"...they're doing the Saint thing already? The information was uncovered a couple of days ago…" I muttered. "But yes. I have his power to speak with the dead, so I can uncover secrets that few others have access to."

"Wait. Speak with the dead?" Ashe said in a slightly higher-pitched voice.

"You mean like… ghosts?" Annette squeaked.

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Sylvain said with a wave of his hand. "Professor Mith doesn't seem to be the kind of guy to let people get hurt, so if a bad ghost showed up? I bet he'd kick its ass," he said with a smirk.

I shook my head. "If a bad ghost showed up, you literally wouldn't know. They need me to manifest, and I don't think anyone else has my Crest. Otherwise, I'm the only one who can see, hear, or interact with them."

Lambert stood somberly at Dimitri's side, giving a wan smile as his son paid rapt attention.

"Point being… I'll tell you guys what I told the Eagles. If ghosts mean you ill, you'll notice particular emotional ills, or poor luck. Meaning you well would do the opposite."

Dimitri looked down at his hands. "So… the dead cannot speak to people without your Crest?" he asked slowly.

I nodded. "There are records of those claiming to hear their voices, but to a one they end up being signs of massive grief. It's symptoms of the person's mind trying to cope with the loss."

Dimitri crossed his arms. "And spirits of ill intent…"

"It's almost always purely on an emotional level." I studied Dimitri's face. There were shadows there, but…

No, it would have been too simple for some Agarthans to have died and latched onto him as the sole survivor. Much as I would have liked to blame them for one more cruelty, this misery was Dimitri's own.

"I see," Dimitri said quietly.

I sighed. "Look. I can check around, and if there's anyone you… would want to say goodbye to… I can bring them over for a little bit."

"What?" Felix said, speaking up.

"My blood can give ghosts voice and shape. They can interact with the living. I spill a few drops, there's a bit of a light-show, and… they have a few minutes on this side of the divide." I shrugged. "I've run into a few ghosts who have loved ones here, so the idea of making offers has crossed my mind."

Felix gave me a long look. "I see." His tone was even, but his eyes didn't seem to hold any anger. "I suppose some might pester you into looking after the living on their behalf."

I waved a hand. "If they do, deciding to do anything about it is up to me. I can exorcise ghosts with my Crest and sever their ties to this world, so I tend to kick bandit lords and psychotic cultists into the pit. I don't spend time on anyone I don't choose to."

"Spooky…" Annette whispered.

"To deal with the dead so directly sounds like a heavy burden," Ashe said thoughtfully.

"It can be. People with finished business don't tend to leave ghosts. And there are some sad stories out there," I admitted.

Dedue began to write on his paper.

"Thought of something you'd like to learn?" I asked.

"Perhaps," he said enigmatically.

"Well, get to writing down what you want to learn and I'll have a syllabus by next week," I said, clapping my hands.

The Lions immediately got to work with minimal fuss.

Not quite as cheery as the Deer, but also not as chaotic as the Eagles.

I blinked as Felix shot me a sidelong look while I walked the aisles.

He sat up, and pushed his paper forward. "Done."

"Really, Felix? We have a chance to learn from someone trained by Jeralt, whose skill is recognized by the Archbishop despite his age," Ingrid said scoldingly.

I winced. "I'm not that young…" I muttered.

"And yet you were boasting not too long ago about being the youngest of your siblings," Felix said dryly.

"Hey, being the baby is only worth it when it comes with perks. Otherwise, no," I said firmly.

Felix let out an amused huff as he shook his head. "As you wish," he said dryly.

"Um, Professor, did you ever talk to any knights?" Ashe asked curiously.

I scratched my chin. "Jeralt kept us away from places with lots of nobles for his own reasons, and rarely let me in contact with them."

Sylvain laughed aloud. "Probably because if he did, half of the nobility in Fodlan would be gone," he said with a spark in his eye.

"What do you mean by that, Sylvain?" Ingrid asked in an unimpressed voice.

"I have issues with how some nobles treat their children and the common people," I said bluntly. "Other people aren't weapons and they aren't tools."

"...that doesn't answer the question," Ashe pointed out.

"I like stabbing." I kept my expression flat.

"And there's the answer!" Annette said in a squeaky tone.

Mercedes giggled. "Don't be silly. Lord Bartels never had any marks on his body, after all!"

Everyone stared at me.

"Well, that time I used my illusions to walk him onto the balcony, curl up, and take a nap. I was a little small for proper stabbing," I admitted.

"You're going to admit to killing a noble… in front of a room full of nobles," Ingrid said faintly.

"Erm…" Ashe said hesitantly.

"About that…" Mercedes said as she folded her hands together.

Dedue blinked.

"In all fairness, he was an abusive shitheel and it was the best way to make sure Emile got away from him for good," I said with a gesture.

Dimitri hummed. "Well, there's only one thing for it."

I blinked.

"As the crown prince of Faerghus, I sentence you to one year of community service," he said in a regal tone.

Sylvain dropped his face onto the desk.

"Well! You heard Dimitri, you're stuck with me," I said with a grin.

Felix gave a dry chuckle. "So which of us is being punished?" he asked sardonically.

"You. Definitely you," I said, still grinning.

Sylvain's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.

"You are aware that as the prince of an entirely different country, I cannot legally punish you for that crime?" Dimitri said in an amused tone.

"I'm aware. Also Edelgard said it's fine, so I'm good," I said mildly.

Sylvain lost control, starting to cackle as he held his midsection.

"Oh! That's nice," Mercedes said. "I'm glad the two of you are getting along."

I nodded. "She gave me a list."

Annette stared at me, then at Mercedes. "Uh… So about the noble thing…"

"Have you been absolutely horrible to anyone lately?" I asked. "Abused someone in your power, treated a commoner like trash or killed them out of hand, that sort of thing?"

"N-no?" Annette squeaked.

"You're good." I smiled widely.

"So… you only target those who are particularly vile," Ingrid said slowly. "It almost sounds… like a knight?"

I shook my head. "I think Hubert put it best. I do good as a spy, assassin, or tactician. The knight thing isn't for me." I rubbed my chin. "In terms of morals, I can see myself getting along with most knights worthy of the title. But in terms of rules for me to live by… I'm not quite brave enough and way too focused on results and keeping what's mine."

"So what is your perspective on knighthood?" Felix asked in a mild tone.

I shrugged. "I think it's been idealized to a huge degree. It's a lot of following orders, sacrifice, and dirty work. The ideal is great to try to live up to - fair dealing, courage, kindness and honesty. But the world we live in isn't ideal." I sighed. "And the honor of a brave death is cold comfort to those left behind," I admitted. "In a good deal of cases, it's rarely a comfort at all."

Felix seemed to relax. "An… even-handed assessment, I suppose," he said neutrally.

"Death is death," Dimitri said firmly. "Regardless of the reason, that person is still gone. Sacrifice should be honored, but… I do not think it should be celebrated. Does that make sense?" He wore a worried look on his face.

"I get what you mean," I said before Ingrid could say something. "Hearing about someone pass away and seeing it are two entirely different things. The brutal reality of the battlefield can strip away notions of honor and humanity in the blink of an eye. While a necessary sacrifice should be honored and the memory of the deceased treasured, there should be space to mourn and regret their passing."

Dimitri nodded, visibly relieved. "Exactly. Thank you, Professor."

Ingrid closed her mouth, and a thoughtful look crossed her face.

"So… should we aspire to knighthood?" Ashe said timidly.

I rubbed the back of my neck. "I'm not the best person to ask. However, if it's my personal opinion you want, rather than professional…?"

Ashe nodded, gaze intent.

"Try to uphold the ideals in your day-to-day life. Be kind, be honorable, help those in need. Tend to the parts of being a knight that exemplify mercy and nobility - the trait, not the status," I clarified. "But also know when to do what's needed. Be willing to strike the low blows, to disobey orders to protect your loved ones. To retreat, covering your allies, so you can keep fighting to protect what's most important. Your life is precious; don't cast it away unless it's your absolute last resort."

The room was quiet.

Mercedes smiled peacefully while Annette chewed the tip of her quill in thought.

Sylvain was inscrutable, but Felix clearly approved with a surprisingly soft smile.

Ingrid appeared torn while Ashe seemed to be filled with resolve.

Dedue's gaze was impassive, but not unkind.

Dimitri…

The prince gazed at me with clear, intent eyes.

"You know Professor," he said after a moment, "I think we're going to learn a lot in this class."

I coughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of my head. "Thaaaat's the hope!" I said.

Afterwards, I collected the papers while the students got up to leave. They each had fairly detailed lists on them.

I blinked as I realized Ashe had stayed behind.

"Ashe?" I asked curiously.

"Um… I wanted to thank you for being honest," he said. "And that… I still want to be like the knights in the books I've read. Noble, strong, brave. But I also want to live too, so… I'm going to take your advice."

I blinked a couple of times. "That's good?"

Ashe smiled. "I'm going to be a strong knight, and protect my friends. But I'm also going to be smart about it, so I can stick around to do it as long as I can."

I grinned. "Just do your best, and I'll do everything I can to help."

"Thanks, Professor," Ashe replied.

"I'm off the job; call me Mith."

The archer chuckled warmly. "Alright, Mith."
____________________________________________________________________________

I wandered the market looking for a gift to give Dorothea.

"That was a good perspective to give them," Lambert said in his deep, resonant voice. "One I'd be happy if more knights back home held it. Especially the part about mercy."

"Duscur wasn't your fault," I said absent-mindedly as I looked over some glass trinkets. My hand paused over a shaped flower that had streaks of orange and violet in it. It looked like a stylized rose - just the flower, no stem or thorns.

"That one? It came out oddly, so it's at a reduced price. Three gold," the merchant said distractedly.

I slapped the coin on the table. "Done!" I said cheerfully.

In a matter of minutes I walked away with it bundled into a bag with stuffing to support and protect it.

"An interesting choice," Lambert noted.

"The flaw makes it more beautiful. The clear glass is good, but the stains in this add character," I replied. "It's easily worth more than I paid."

"I don't disagree," the former king said. "On a different note, when will you speak with Dimitri?"

"I laid out the option to manifest you, so I expect him to approach me sooner than later," I said easily. "When that happens, I'll get to work doing what I do best."

I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye.

Allie spoke to Sylvain, some sadness on her face.

Sylvain replied, but there was just enough ambient noise that I had trouble hearing him.

"Go on, then," Lambert said encouragingly.

I moved along, grateful for the fruit cart being near where they were talking.

"...I'm sorry. I was an ass, and should have been upfront about my motives," Sylvain said.

"I just don't understand why. If you said you just wanted someone to have tea with a time or two, I wouldn't have minded. It would have been a nice distraction," Allie responded. "But to lead me on like that, make me think I had a chance…"

Sylvain shook his head. "I got you wrong, and that's on me. You're a good person. I just… wanted you to know that." He coughed awkwardly. "I'm just gonna…"

Allie nodded. "I accept your apology, but I don't really want to speak with you again. I hope you understand."

Sylvain gave a slight smile. "That's fair. Take care, Allie."

Allie returned it. "You too, Sylvain."

I quickly moved away.

"Hm. He's growing up," Lambert said appraisingly. "I didn't expect him to take your words to heart so quickly, but I won't speak against it."

I let out a short sigh. "I'm… going to go to the dining hall," I said softly.

And try to put that out of my head.

When he wasn't being a smarmy philanderer… sincerity looked good on Sylvain.

Damn it.
____________________________________________________________________________

"Hm… I think I like this, but it's been a while," Dorothea said with a light blush.

I grinned. "Sweet foods are my favorite," I admitted. "Followed by poultry. I'm just glad they had Peach Sorbet for dessert."

Dorothea giggled. "A man after my own heart," she admitted.

I felt my cheeks redden. "You sure like to compliment people, huh?" I said.

"Hmm?"

"Well, you've just been really… nice. I'm not used to it anymore," I admitted. "Everyone being so calm about stuff is new."

"Stuff?" Dorothea asked.

"My usual weirdness," I said with a shrug. I ate a spoonful of dessert. "So… you were in the Opera for a while, yeah?"

"That's right," Dorothea said, smiling.

"That's cool. I never got the chance to go when we were in Adrestia," I said wistfully. "I always wanted to, though. Stories performed live, with music? It'd be like a book but so much more."

"You like reading?" Dorothea asked, leaning forward.

"Yeah, it's fun. Different stories are good. I also like non-fiction; learning new things keeps me occupied," I explained.

"Hmm… I do enjoy a good book now and then, but I prefer romance," Dorothea commented.

"A good romance once in a while is nice," I agreed. "I like it best when it's mixed in with other genres."

"Oh?" Dorothea said in a teasing tone. "How so?"

"Well, the tales of chivalry are nice. How the noble knight sweeps the beautiful maiden off her feet, swears to look after her for the rest of their days…" I trailed off. "Some days I'd pretend to be the knight, and others the maiden," I admitted. "Helping people is good and all, but I've had my days where I wanted to be saved by someone devoted to me too."

Dorothea's face softened. "I know exactly what you mean. Being the one to look after people is fulfilling in its own way, but once in a while…"

"You just want some strapping man to pick you up in his arms and hold you for a bit, and let someone else worry about the hard decisions you've been making," I responded.

"Exactly. Though for someone like Hilda, those days are the ones ending in 'y'," Dorothea said in a conspiratorial tone.

I snickered. "So mean! Yet true," I responded slyly.

Dorothea giggled. "So… you think about being the maiden sometimes, hm?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

I shrugged. "I'm attracted to men and women. I know it's not the most common thing, but I'm not going to make a fuss about it."

Dorothea nodded. "Right? People should just… love who they love," she said with a far-off look in her eyes.

"You too?" I said quietly.

She gave me a small smile. "Oh, definitely. And don't think for a second I have a hint of shame about it," she said proudly. She sighed. "I've had my thoughts on Petra for a little while, but she's a bit…"

"Communication failure imminent?" I responded.

"Oh yes. She's a dear friend, but I don't know if she'd get quite what I mean when I flirt at this juncture," Dorothea said as she shook her head. "Any boys caught your eye? Claude, perhaps?" she said with a glint in her eye.

I shook my head. "Aside from not knowing if he'd even be into me like that, I don't… well, he's handsome. But I really like the idea of him as a close friend more than as…" I trailed off and waved a hand. "You know?"

"Mm, I know the feeling. I'm the same way about Bernie," Dorothea admitted. "She's sweet, and means the world to me - just not that way. And we're fine like that."

"Exactly," I said with a grin. I sighed. "Though I did almost start crushing on Sylvain," I admitted.

"No!" Dorothea gasped. "Really?" she said eagerly.

"Yeah, then… well, you saw," I said. "Of course… eh." I shook my head. "I doubt he'd change that quick."

Dorothea made an encouraging sound.

"So, I told him off before class today. He… hadn't really done anything to deserve it, I was just flustered because he was in my personal space so I snapped at him. I said that if he really wanted to try to make friends with me, he had to apologize to the people he'd hurt," I said as I felt my cheeks burn.

"And?" Dorothea said.

"I saw him apologize to Allie - the girl he was dumping - in the Market today," I said quietly. "Not even a few hours later."

"It sounds like he's taken an interest in you," Dorothea said offhandedly. She smiled. "Maybe I have a little competition?"

I sputtered. "Wh-what? No, no way. He's all about women. And even if he… he's nowhere near in the running," I said firmly. "Felix has a better chance than him, and I think he's borderline asexual."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that - Felix might be focused on training, but I'd bet the right woman could get him to open up. Or man, if you want to put in that effort," Dorothea said with a wink.

I hummed. "So… I guess this would be a good point to set expectations?"

"Expectations?" Dorothea echoed.

"Like… what we want out of whatever happens between us. Do we want to be friends? More than friends? Start as friends and see where it goes?" I offered. "I mean, I was under the impression this was a date, so…"

"Oh, it is," Dorothea said easily. "Though… starting as friends and waiting…" She sighed. "I can't really afford to wait."

I blinked. "Are you in trouble or something?" I asked gently.

Dorothea giggled. "Sweet of you to worry, but no. It's just… time. Before too long, I'll get old. I'm a diva, and don't have a lot to offer beyond my looks and voice. Once those fade…"

I raised my eyebrows. "Really? Because I looked over the stuff you wanted to learn, and those lend themselves to a wide range of professions, not all of them violent. Honestly if you polished your white magic a little, you could probably land a job as Manuela's assistant in the infirmary or something. Do a bit of singing, patch people up, have more time to scope out worthy knights to settle down with, not rush back to Enbarr after the year is over…" I trailed off.

Dorothea gazed at me with wide eyes. "That's…" she said faintly.

"If you can get Manuela to vouch for you as an apprentice, I'd also put in a word for you. Rhea listens to me, so that'd seal it. So if it's something you want to work for, I'll help. You just have to put the elbow grease in so that you can do the job you're recommended for, you know?" I said in a helpful tone. "And since you're worried about time, I think that it'd give you the time to figure things out. You've got a lot of potential, Dorothea, and you shouldn't squander it or settle on someone subpar because you're rushed." I scratched the back of my neck. "Whether… well, whether we're friends or an 'us', I want you to have a good life. You worked hard to get here, so there should be a payoff, not more tension."

Dorothea swallowed lightly. "And… what would you want for that?" she asked.

I blinked. "Eh? I mean, I want to be your friend, mostly. I think you're pretty and like you that way, but I really want to get to know you better and spend time with you. So… maybe just walk around the grounds with me once in a while? I guess? It's up to you, really."

She stared at me for a long moment, then gave a watery laugh. "Ha! Well, of all the outcomes I expected…" She shook her head. "It looks like this was a good choice for my future after all," she said softly. She winced. "Sorry, that sounded selfish…"

I shrugged. "I mean, you're not put off by me being me, and you've been nothing but nice. I don't mind helping you, and from what I'm hearing you're still willing to be my friend so… friends help each other. Right?"

"Yes. I think…" Dorothea trailed off, then gave me a soft smile. "I think I'd like to start as friends, and see where it goes." She paused. "I might, ah, still date around a bit. Just dinner, but…"

I shrugged. "Hey, I actually got a date. If you find a nice guy, I'll totally help you land him if you want."

"Aaand now I feel bad," Dorothea groused.

"Sorry. I, uh, got you a gift if that makes you feel better?" I offered.

Dorothea laughed. "Not really, but it'd be rude to turn you down," she said with a shake of her head.

I pulled the glass rose blossom out of its packaging. "Something to set on your desk or in your room," I said as I handed it over. "Also, something to carry it back in to make sure it doesn't break."

Dorothea gasped. "Mith, this is lovely! Where did you find it?"

"There was a merchant at the Market selling glass ornaments. It looked nice, so I got it for you," I explained. "The color comes from impurities in the material that got melted down for the glass. Though more skilled artisans do it intentionally, like for the stained glass in the Archbishop's receiving room."

"I love it," Dorothea said decisively. "I'll put it on my vanity in my room, so it's right where I can see it."

I felt my cheeks redden again. "Glad you like it," I said shyly. I blinked. "Ah! The dessert's melting!" I yelped quietly.

Dorothea giggled. "Then we'd better eat it before it goes," she said teasingly.

We dug into the sorbet, occasionally pausing to make small talk.

The dessert was still cold and sweet, if a little runny for us leaving it.

After we finished, Dorothea and I walked outside.

"Mith, tonight was lovely," she said warmly. "I… I appreciate what you're offering to do for me."

"I mean, you'll have to work for it, but you don't seem like a stranger to giving it your all," I said with a shrug. "I think if you try your hand at Faith magic, you might have a real talent for it. And the power to keep people breathing is never a bad thing to have."

"That's true," Dorothea said with a rueful grin. Her smile eased. "But still, it's a path I hadn't considered."

"Probably easier to meet people than the Opera too," I muttered.

"How do you think?" Dorothea asked with a raised brow. "I mean, not that I'm disagreeing, but…"

"On the stage, you're larger-than-life, but it's an act. You're putting your best foot forward, and people assume that the end result of hours of hard work is how you are all the time, and then there's patrons who feel entitled to that - all the time. They want your voice and your face and your body, but there's more there than that. I mean, just tonight I found out you like trashy romance novels and pretty ornaments, have a real passion for music, and really look up to Manuela," I said with a smile.

"I'll admit to the first two, but where did you get the rest?" Dorothea asked in mild surprise.

"Well, your eyes got kind of distant when I asked about the Opera, so I figured it was because you missed the show and your friends. And when I suggested Manuela as a mentor, your eyes kind of lit up even though you were kind of stunned," I thought aloud. "It wasn't verbal, but more stuff I picked up by paying attention to you."

Dorothea nodded. "Well… yes. You can understand a lot from nonverbal cues. For example, you've been lonely for a long time, and are more than willing to accept friendship in place of romance, so long as you aren't alone. And you're so happy that people like you that you jump at the opportunity to help them, because you feel you owe them for it." Dorothea sighed. "Honestly, if I had the option to turn down your recommendation I would, just so I could assure you that you weren't being used. As it stands…" she trailed off with a sad look.

"I'm sorry," I said with a wince.

"No, no," Dorothea said quickly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up, because it is kind of you, and you mean well. I just want to do right by you too, you know?"

I smiled. "Well, so long as we're friends… that's all I really want. Most of the other stuff - money to buy the odd bauble, food in my belly, clothes on my back, a roof over my head - it's covered. But people to stick by me and share my life aren't too plentiful." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Or it's more like they weren't, but I'll never turn down another friend," I admitted.

Dorothea giggled. "Thank you, Mith. For the dinner, the gift - everything," she said softly. She leaned forward.

I smelled her perfume - something floral - as she gently pressed her lips against my cheek.

I felt myself go scarlet as I squeaked.

She laughed, bright and loud. "You really don't have a lot of experience here, do you?" she said in gentle amusement.

I sighed. "I was all 'I'm going to have a good flirt', but here I am, and it's… well… a lot more than I expected," I admitted, still feeling my cheeks heat up.

Dorothea wrapped me in a hug, placing her arms around my waist. "You really are a sweet guy, Mith." She gave me another peck on the cheek. "Just so you know… your offer to help me if I found someone else? Stands for you too." She stepped back and gave me a severe look. "A nice guy like you is destined to get taken advantage of if someone doesn't watch your back." Her smile returned. "So as your friend, that falls to me. Let's see where our lives take us together, then?"

I nodded with a smile of my own. "Yeah."

I took her hand in mine, and we began the walk back to her dorm so I could drop her off for the night.

I kept smiling the whole way.
____________________________________________________________________________

The night passed, and a new day arrived.

I crossed my legs as I sat across from Rhea in her office.

"So, how is your planning going?" she asked with a soft smile.

I rubbed my forehead. "Well, it's not too hard to divvy up students by who wants to learn what, but it'd be easier if I could mix classes," I admitted. "A day for magic, a day for direct combat, and a day for subterfuge and other topics."

Rhea gave a thoughtful hum. "I may be able to arrange such a thing. I'll pose the question to Seteth, but for now we should keep to the original schedule. That said, on the days you assign you could take the students for the seminar out of their classes for special instruction. Though that may be a bit more troublesome…" she murmured.

"Got it. I can run a weekly seminar with optional attendance, and inform the students beforehand of the topic I'm going to cover. It'll be one day a week, so the Professors can get an extra day to deal with their personal pursuits," I said with a grin.

"I will check with Seteth, but it sounds like a wonderful idea," Rhea said. "What sorts of topics are you thinking?"

"Well, learning about the cultures of Brigid and Duscur is one such thing, as well as the alternative sources for Faith magic. A series on Illusion isn't a bad idea either," I continued. "Then there's the questions about history I'm sure they have, and I've met enough ghosts in enough places I can cobble something together. Or just have 'guest speakers'," I finished with a smirk.

"Please don't frighten the students," Rhea chastised with an amused smile. The smile faded slightly. "So… you wish to explore the combination of non-Seiros worship and Faith magic?"

"It's fascinating," I said bluntly. "The marvels gained from your religion can't be discounted, but Brigid's spirit magic and whatever we can discover from Duscur's pantheon could also give great boons. I only wish we had someone who practiced a religion from Almyra or Dagda to see how that would work…" I trailed off.

Rhea sighed. "Well, the faithful will likely see it as either an affront or the experiment it is. I only ask that you be gentle with them." She smiled at me. "It is good to see you embracing your life here so readily."

I coughed. "I don't know about Byleth or Jeralt, but… I was kind of getting ready to settle down in one place for a while."

She got up and fiddled with- ah. A teapot.

Rhea poured a cup for each of us, and sat back down, also setting a plate of baked goods on the desk.

"So, Seteth and I were discussing whether to ask if you would participate in the mock battle at the end of the month," Rhea began.

I raised my eyebrows. "You want me to side with a house?"

Rhea shook her head. "By the changes we've seen in the officer students, you've already begun setting up one of your ploys," she replied.

I gave a humorless grin. "It's the sort of game with unfathomable stakes. Death would be preferable to loss."

Rhea nodded slowly. "I see. What can you tell me?"

I fiddled with my hands. "The Western Church has its hooks in Lonato. That, we discussed. However, I have confirmation he plans to rebel by the end of Garland Moon at the latest. If we want to defuse the situation, I have to go next month to begin diplomatic attempts." I looked up at Rhea. "I'll have the list of people I need ready after the mock battle, and take the month to prepare. Assuming the enemy is behind this, I don't doubt they'll catch wind and attack, so I need to get everyone ready."

My sister leaned back and gazed thoughtfully into her teacup.

"Thoughts?" I asked.

"Of course, we will support your endeavors with the Gaspard territory," Rhea said after a moment. "However, we seem to have drifted from the original topic. Would you be willing to take part in the mock battle?"

"Depends on the role," I replied. "I don't want to be seen as favoring one class over the others."

"Perhaps an area hazard? Discourage the students from using the forest?" Rhea offered.

I grinned slowly. "Oh, they can stay as long as they like. They just have to pay the toll of a teammate. What will they sacrifice?" I said with a dark chuckle.

Rhea raised her eyebrows.

"I'm not going to hurt anyone, just spook them," I said with a wave of my hand. "One good Glamour and…"

"Very well," Rhea acquiesced. "It should please you that we've managed to forge training daggers with the proper enchantments, so you should be able to fight to your full potential."

I bit back a sound of excitement. "Thank you! I can finally spar with people!" I said in a manly, not at all high-pitched tone.

Truly.

Rhea smiled and shook her head. "I'm glad that you're taking to this so well."

"Yeah, and Mac is too!"

Rhea blinked. "Pardon?"

"Hey Mac, want to help me terrorize the kids if they stay in the forest too long during the mock battle?"

Rhea turned her head and looked slightly down.

Mac turned one beady eye on her.

The staring match continued for a solid minute as I sipped my tea.

"HONK."

"Mostly we fear that means yes," I said conversationally.

"No serious injury, no death," Rhea ordered with a firm frown.

Mac peeked up over the desk, and reached out his neck to snatch a pastry. Then he waddled away to visit mischief upon some poor, unsuspecting soul.

Rhea gave me a long, sad look.

"Would you rather he start using wind magic to launch people into the sky?" I asked.

She grimaced in a very un-archbishop-like manner. "...I will accept the circumstances as they are."
____________________________________________________________________________

The new adjunct professor had killed people, true. Even if Dimitri hadn't described the scene of the campsite (though not in too much detail), Sylvain would have seen that. Maybe.

That said, he had no idea how to navigate social waters, and that was a cause for concern.

It would have been easy to be jealous of him for having a Crest and not having to deal with the societal pressures of nobility wanting to use him as a game piece or weapon, or for non-nobles to want to carry his child.

The stirrings of that feeling died a swift death when he explained that he'd gotten rid of Bartels because of the abuses he'd visited on his son, and mentioned the death of his own family.

The revelation that his Crest's power had won him few living friends had only cemented that further.

All of this combined to make Sylvain very aware that Mith was utterly unaware of his new position.

He had the ear of the Archbishop and her right hand. Enough so that for his sake, Rhea was willing to order a Hero's Relic be sealed while its bearer was in Garreg Mach. His Crest had been openly identified as belonging to a Saint, formerly thought to be apocrypha to the canon of Seiros' story.
He may not be landed, but in every way that counted? He was in a similar situation to Sylvain - and he had no coaching to avoid the pitfalls his new position entailed.

He didn't know how to tell a real friend from someone using him for his position or talents, he didn't know that women would want to bear his child just for a chance to join the nobility…

He didn't know that the power that had alienated him from people, now that it had been codified by the Church, would act as a lure to the worst sort of person.

Sylvain thought these things as he waited under a tree, watching people go by in the hope he'd see the new oddball adjunct.

Dorothea was openly looking for a husband. It was why she'd come to Garreg Mach, at least to Sylvain's knowledge. She was beautiful, sharp, and from what Sylvain saw, kind to her friends.

According to Annette, who had gone giggling to Mercedes, she was also pursuing Mith. Sylvain had overheard, and also knew that something had happened, though he didn't know what.

He entertained a dark train of thought where he'd try to seduce Dorothea away from Mith, to see if she was serious about him, but then slammed it off.

Mith had suffered enough, for all he tried to cover it up with both acting and his illusions. Sylvain was all too familiar with playing off things that hurt, though in his case he usually deserved it.

Miklan.

Another errant thought to be shoved away. No, Sylvain wouldn't do that to Mith. But how to warn him that Dorothea's intentions might not be as pure as he thought?

Sylvain rubbed the back of his neck as his brow furrowed thoughtfully.

Mith was… Sylvain didn't know. He had so many secrets, and while Sylvain didn't usually pry into other people's business… He wanted to know.

And he wanted to make sure he was safe. Yesterday had stung, but Sylvain could see the logic in it.

Idly, he wondered if Mith would have been so vehement if his philandering was victimless. He'd heard of playboys who fooled around all the time, but the women never complained.

Still, Sylvain had built up a fairly comprehensive picture of the younger man based on their… two, three meetings? And also hearsay. He seemed to either omit information, or quickly slip it in and then pretend he never said anything. He was definitely running some sort of plan that involved all three of the Lords at Garreg Mach. He genuinely enjoyed helping others, and wasn't restrained by preconceptions of faith or country.

But the last and most important part of the picture was this: Mith was devastatingly lonely, and had no idea how to properly process the positive attention he was receiving. Affection would cut away at his act and glamours like a knife, and the vulnerability Sylvain saw made his chest ache.
That also lead to questions for Jeralt and Professor Byleth, but-

"Sylvain?"

He blinked rapidly, noticing Mith standing right outside of his personal space. "Huh? Oh hey," he said easily.

"Hi. I… wanted to apologize for yesterday," Mith said slowly.

Sylvain blinked. "For…?"

"For lashing out at you. I don't… Okay, so I don't really understand you and you're complicated. I'm used to dealing with 'this person's trying to kill me or hurt and use people, put knife here' or 'this person is helpful and kind, do not put knife here'. I don't get your thing with picking up and putting down women like toys. I really don't approve of it. But there's more to you than that, and, I dunno…" Mith's babbling slowed as he trailed off.

Sylvain crossed his arms as he leaned against the tree. "I accept your apology," he said with a grin. "And I promise to ease up on the ladies around here. Guess I'm a little too much for them, huh?" he said with a wink.

Mith sighed in exasperation. "However you want to phrase it. Thanks, though," he said with a small smile. "And I'll try not to be so judgy. Or something."

Sylvain laughed a little. "Congrats, you're one up on Ingrid." He let a more genuine smile surface as he watched Mith fidget. "I promise I'm not actually mad at you. I haven't been since that time we sat at the same table," he said gently.

Mith blinked up at him, eyes wide.

Sylvain felt that same odd clench in his chest. "Hey, don't give me that look. If I held it against everyone who gave me a ration of sass for my way with women, I'd be out of any sort of friends," he joked. He paused. "Do you do that all the time?"

Mith blinked again, and shook his head. "Do what?"

"Kind of freeze whenever someone's nice to you?"

Mith stilled. "Not… particularly." He bit his lip.

"I've noticed it a couple of times. With Mercedes you got caught flat-footed when she thanked you for helping her brother. And you're good at playing it off elsewhere, but… I've seen flashes where you had to stop and think about what someone was saying when it wasn't the usual noble politeness games." Sylvain tilted his head and dropped his arms. "You and Edelgard seem to have a rapport, but she's not exactly demonstrative. Claude's dropped into some easygoing friendship with you, so you've kind of acclimated to him. You've known Flayn for a while before you got here, same as the Archbishop. You can see it in how you guys interact. Outside of that, you mostly seem to read people or go off of what you've heard from their loved ones, I'd guess."

Mith shuffled a bit, definitely on the back foot. "I… hadn't realized I was that obvious." And he did not sound happy about it.

"You aren't, I've just been watching. Not going to lie, I'm a little worried." Sylvain nearly bit his tongue after the last bit.

Mith's cheeks went pink. "Worried? About me?"

Sylvain shook his head. "Anyways. How's things with Dorothea? Annette was all smiles about you two on your date," he said. He put another grin on. "She said the two of you were just adorable," he cooed.

Mith went scarlet. "That…! Oooh, I'm going to stick peppers in chocolate and sneak them to her, just you watch," he growled.

Sylvain let out a startled guffaw. "Now that I'd pay to see," he said with a smile.

Mith gave an irritated snort. "Right. Anyways, things are… fine? We're not dating, but we're friends. Well, not dating is a strong term? We're playing it by ear."

"...isn't she trying to land a husband before graduation?" Sylvain said pointedly. It wasn't exactly a secret, and she definitely didn't try to hide it from her friends. It just so happened that one of those friends was Caspar, who got on with Annette and, surprisingly (to Sylvain), Ashe. They weren't super close, but chitchat happened.

Mith gave a smug smirk. "I helped her figure out a way to extend her timetable. She's going to study healing under Manuela, and if she improves enough before then she'll get taken on as an apprentice. If she can get the seal of approval from Manuela, I'll talk to Rhea about her staying past graduation. Gives her more time to see what works for her, and an option besides marriage for her retirement from the stage."

Sylvain felt his eyebrows crawl into his hairline. "Okay, not to sound like a total ass, but what do you get from this again?"

Mith stared at Sylvain in mild confusion. "She's my friend and I want to help her. Friends help each other if they can, right?"

Sylvain was caught between wanting to shake the man and hug him.

"Well, my friends are Felix, Ingrid, and Dimitri. Getting to know the other Lions still," he said off-handedly. "Ingrid's so used to cleaning up my messes and shooting me down that… well, we're still on good terms somehow so now that I'm going to try to clean up my act we'll get on better."

Mith snapped his fingers. "So that's what Felix meant when he asked if I was her at supper that time!"

Sylvain gave a sharp laugh. "Yeah, that's Felix. He's prickly, but he cares. Also really bad at showing it. And I admit, me being… myself… doesn't make that easy."

"He's good people. When I told him… things… he agreed to stop calling Dimitri an animal in front of me. And I guess he took my input about acting as a counterweight to Dedue's enabling tendencies seriously," Mith said with a small smile. "And he's fun to spar with. I should do it again sometime."

Sylvain shook his head. "Not much for sparring myself, but…" he trailed off. "Anyways. Dimitri's the last one, and His Highness can be a bit of a stick in the mud. Always ready with a lecture. Though he's not on the most even keel."

Mith worried his lip.

"What's up?" Sylvain said. "I know this is like, the first time we've been on speaking terms but…"

"I'm trying to figure out how to approach Dimitri. I don't think Dedue told him, probably to avoid complications, but… His father is haunting him. I alluded as much in class, but he didn't react. So's Felix's brother, though I think he splits time between the two of them," Mith said quietly.

Sylvain found himself stunned into silence, but gathered his wits quickly. He's good at that. "So you've spoken to our dead High King and Glenn. About Dimitri and Felix?"

Mith nodded. "Felix… I'm pretty sure he got the picture in class yesterday. He hasn't tried to stab me so I think we're good?"

Sylvain shook his head. "You made it pretty clear you're your own man. If Glenn asked you to look after Felix, you chose to do it, and Felix will respect that so long as you respect him - which you do, so it's all copacetic unless you try to coddle him."

Mith scowled. "Not coddling people is hard."

Sylvain shook his head. "Anyways. You're wondering how to tell His Highness about his father?"

Mith nodded. "And… well…"

Sylvain made an encouraging noise.

"Manifesting him so they can get some closure. Even if I need to do repeat visits," Mith said quietly.

"...how does that work again?" Sylvain asked. He vaguely remembered something about it in class…

"I spill my blood, and focus my will. That's all."

"That's all," Sylvain repeated flatly.

Mith nodded.

Sylvain laced his fingers together in front of him.

Goddess give me strength.

"So to whistle up a ghost - or make it physical - you have to hurt yourself," Sylvain said in that same neutral tone.

"Some blood, a bit of vitality. It's not as draining as it used to be, so I can even make a pseudo-battalion out of my enemies' victims if they're around," Mith said off-handedly.

"Let's loop back around to the self-harm bit," Sylvain said. "Now, I know that there's some ritualistic stuff, but you won't see much of it in Faerghus. But is that really the only way?"

"My Crest is my blood," Mith said, brow furrowed in confusion. "How else would it work?"

Sylvain sighed. "Okay. Right."

Mith shook his head. "Sorry for troubling you." He took a step back.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sylvain said, catching his arm.

Mith froze.

"Please, trouble me. I'd rather be troubled than worried, because at least then I won't drive myself mad with 'what-ifs'," Sylvain said, stepping closer.
The younger man's face flickered, and Sylvain could tell that a Glamour had just gone up.

"You do realize I have a lot more experience than you," Mith said flatly.

"In fighting? Sure, I acknowledge that. But I'm getting the feeling you don't really… get people. I mean, you know how to follow a train of thought and puzzle them out when you know what they want. And you figure if you give them that, everything's fine." Sylvain put his other hand on Mith's other shoulder.

"It's not?" Mith asked slowly.

"Here's what I'm hearing. If a person is good and you like them, you try to give them something so they like you back. If a person is okay and you're ambivalent, you coexist. If a person is bad? Knives." Sylvain watched the Glamour sputter out, and Mith's mask of indifference be replaced with wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth. "Also illusions, which you use to try and hide everything you don't like getting out. Like vulnerability, which still gets out when people catch you off-guard when they're genuinely kind or like you for you."

"...I'm not sure what to say to that," Mith said softly.

Sylvain gave a tired smirk. "I'm pretty good at playing dumb, but… I can be observant."

Mith nodded a little. "I noticed," he said dryly.

"On the other side of things, it seems to have served you well so far, because everyone you've dealt with in good faith has seen it for what it was and responded in kind. Even Edelgard, and I can tell she's as cagey as they come."

Mith was quiet.

Sylvain sighed. "So… you're obviously getting uncomfortable, but I have one last question."

Mith looked at him.

"How demonstrative are Jeralt and Byleth with you? Affectionately?"

Mith grinned a little. "Byleth has feelings, but acts like she has a literal rock in her chest. Jeralt's a crotchety old man in the body of a fortysomething."

Sylvain felt that ache again, and decided to do something about it.

He removed his hands from Mith, and wrapped his arms around him.

"Eh?" Mith's voice was faint.

"You looked like you needed a hug," Sylvain said in his ear. He let go and stepped back.

Mith's eyes were still glazed over in shock.

"I'll admit, I'm not the huggiest guy either… but you kind of make me want to look after you. Make sure you don't get taken advantage of," Sylvain said with a small smile.

Mith shook his head rapidly for a moment, and Sylvain felt amusement paired with warmth.

"You know," Mith said after his head stopped, "Dorothea said something like that, too."

Sylvain hummed a little. "Sounds like she knows what she's talking about," he admitted.

Mith looked up at Sylvain for a moment, then gave a small smile. "I guess I have a lot to think about," he admitted.

"I'd apologize, but I don't regret it," Sylvain joked. He let a little seriousness bleed through. "But honestly, if you need to talk? Search me out. I'll make time to listen."

Mith's smile widened. "I'll keep it in mind. Thanks, Sylvain." He reached out his hand, but paused awkwardly.

Sylvain clasped his arm and felt Mith's hand latch onto his forearm, and gave an affectionate squeeze.

"That works," Mith said in embarrassment.

"Friend thing still new for you?" Sylvain asked.

"Yes," Mith said flatly.

Sylvain chuckled. "Better get used to it fast. Even if I'm not much of a hugger - with exceptions," he said with a wink, "Mercedes thrives on that stuff, and she's pretty much decided to adopt you. And then there's Dorothea, and Flayn…" Sylvain trailed off.

"Okay, I see that look, and I want to put it out there that Flayn and I are cousins. Kind of distant, but, you know, no," Mith said, holding his arms up in an x-shape.

"Good to know," Sylvain said with a grin.

"And that does not give you permission to woo her! I don't want to be the one to box your remains after Seteth's done!" Mith said in a higher-pitched voice.

Sylvain laughed aloud. "Hey, I haven't gone after your sister yet, have I? And she is beautiful, but… well, I have other plans that wooing her would make harder," he said with a smirk.

Mith shook his head. "Crazy," he said in a fond tone that made Sylvain feel a bit happy. The adjunct jolted and blinked rapidly. "Oh crap! I was supposed to go talk to Felix and let him know I got training daggers in for sparring!"

"Supposed to or going to?" Sylvain asked wryly.

Mith had already begun to move. "The answer's yes! Also, don't go in the forest during the Mock Battle! I'm going to be a field hazard and I'll hand anyone who goes in their ass!" he called as he began to jog towards the training field.

"Good to know!" Sylvain called back. He watched the shrinking shape of Mith as he kept going away, feeling his lips tug upward a bit.

Then he felt a light tug on the knee of his trousers.

Sylvain looked down to see Mac the goose giving him an upwards gimlet gaze. He had something in his beak, which he set down near his shoe.

As Mac waddled off, Sylvain picked up the object.

It was a silk handkerchief, and as he lifted it near his face, it had a light floral scent to it. It was also spotless. A nice gift, all in all.

He stared at Mac.

The goose stared back.

Then he lifted a wing, and pointed one of his feathers at his eye. Then he extended the wing, and aimed the same feather at Sylvain.

The noble had the strangest feeling that he was missing a very important piece to this puzzle.

He also decided he wanted to find it.
 
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2. White Clouds: Battle of Mockery
Time's flow waits for no one, Byleth mused. A week had passed, and Mith's first seminar had come and gone.

The end results were… interesting, to say the least.

"Can anyone find Bernadetta?" Dorothea called out. Her tone was higher in pitch, but she was making an obvious effort to remain calm.

"Marriane's gone too!" Leonie shouted, not even trying to hide her panic.

The dining hall was in chaos.

"So, professor," Sylvain drawled. "Enjoying the fruits of Mith's 'presence concealment' lesson? Seems like two of our number took to his teachings a little too well."

Mith sat next to her, face down on the table.

Sylvain noticed, and leaned over to ruffle his hair. "Hey, hey. Not your fault. I mean, most of us saw this coming, but you tend to hope for the best," he said consolingly.

Mith gave a low grumble.

Sylvain leaned closer, hand still on the back of Mith's head. "One more time?"

Another grumble.

Byleth raised her eyebrows at the familiarity the Faerghus noble was displaying towards her brother. Given what she'd heard, she assumed Mith would have lashed out by now.

Sylvain straightened up, and rubbed his chin as he let go. "That could work. Thanks, Mith," he said with a warm smile.

Mith flashed a thumbs-up, remaining stationary.

"Professor?" a soft voice asked as Sylvain walked away.

Byleth turned to look at Marianne.

"Why is everyone panicking? I just didn't want to be a burden…" The chronically depressed and anxious noblewoman looked distraught - more so than usual.

Mith turned his head to the side. "Because they care about you, and going missing usually implies something bad has happened. They'd miss you if you were gone." His tone was flat and exhausted.

"O-oh," Marianne said, straightening up a bit.

Byleth nodded. "I've just met the Deer this month, and if anything happened to any of you I'd butcher the ones responsible," she said tonelessly.

Marianne slowly blinked.

"She means it," Mith said before returning to his prior position. "Bernie, why are you hiding under the table?"

Bernadetta slowly poked her head out. "B-because if one more person tries to give me their condolences, I'm going to scream," she said in a tremulous voice. "And you're the one person who hasn't! So."

Byleth felt a headache coming on. "Condolences for what, exactly?"

"My father was found dead," Bernadetta said simply.

Byleth processed this, and the mildly confused expression on her face. "And how does that make you feel?"

"I don't know. I don't feel… sad? Just kind of tired. And…" she trailed off. "Ohhh no, no, no! Bernie, that's awful, you shouldn't…!" Bernadetta's face screwed up in distress.

"Free?" Mith said quietly. "He did hurt you a lot, you know. Even if it wasn't always physical."

Bernadetta slowly got into the seat across from Mith, staring at him with wide eyes.

The Nabatean lifted his head, eyes glowing violet. "Ansel's at rest now. He kept his promise." Then he put his head back down.

Bernadetta's shoulders began to shake as she put a hand over her mouth.

"Bernadetta?" Marianne asked, getting up with a concerned look on her face.

"A-ansel? But he's… but he's…!"

Marianne walked around the table next to Bernadetta and sat by her.

Byleth felt the headache arrive. "I take it he was important to you."

"He was my first f-friend, and my f-father…" the recluse whispered. "H-he-" She cut herself off and covered her face with her hands.

Mith didn't pick his head up, but reached out and gently touched Bernadetta's elbow.

"I'm sorry for your friend," Marianne said, voice barely a whisper as she rubbed Bernadetta's back.

"Is all well?" a regal, commanding voice inquired.

Byleth looked up to see Edelgard standing behind Mith. Somewhat awkwardly, to her surprise.

"Unless I miss my mark, Mith laid a friend of hers to rest who was haunting her estate by giving him his revenge on… Lord Varley?" she asked, looking at the lazing dragonkin.

Mith gave a thumbs up.

"Poetic," Edelgard said coolly. She turned to Bernadetta. "Unfortunately, Bernadetta, there is minimal physical evidence as to your father's cause of death. If the assailant is someone who was already deceased, then there simply isn't a criminal to punish. To that end, there will be no formal investigation," she said in a tone of finality.

Bernadetta stared up at Edelgard, face streaked with tears.

The princess' face softened slightly. "You are of my House, and under my care. I will not permit you to come to harm so long as I can prevent it."

Mith lifted his head once more. "And we're friends, Bernie. I look after my friends." He gave the young noble a tired smile.

Marianne didn't speak, but kept rubbing Bernadetta's back.

Bernadetta wiped her tears away. "I-I. I don't know what to say, or do? I should be angry. That's what happens when your family gets killed, right? B-but…" she stammered.

Mith fully sat up for the first time, reminding Byleth that he was not a small boy - or man, given he was in his late teens physically.

"Bernadetta," he said in a calm, yet kind tone.

She looked up at him, eyes wide.

"If someone hurts you like Lord Varley does, they're not your family. Family is kind. They love you, protect you, and ask nothing in return. And you do the same for them. There's no question of use, or debt, or any of that." His lips quirked up. "I mean, there's a reason I call Byleth my sister, even though we don't share blood."

Byleth felt a soft warmth spread through her chest, and she gently laid a hand on Mith's shoulder.

He blinked a couple of times, then shot her a blinding grin.

Edelgard hummed. "I think you're right," she said softly, contemplative. She gave Bernadetta another slight smile. "In that case Bernadetta, please consider the Black Eagles your family. We will be there for you, if you need us."

Bernadetta swallowed nervously. "I. O-okay. Thank you," she said. She gave Marianne a shivery smile. "And thanks to you too, Marianne!"

Marianne's eyes widened. "Oh! I-I didn't do anything," she demurred.

"You comforted her when she was upset," Mith said pointedly.

Edelgard sighed and shook her head. "I'll call off the search," she said with a wry smile. "I assume you have it from here, Mith? Professor?"

"I'll let Leonie know too," Claude said as he entered Byleth's field of vision and draped himself over Mith's back with a thoughtful smile.

Byleth narrowed her eyes as Mith laughed and squeezed the other man's arm fondly. Then she turned her attention back to Marianne and Bernadetta.

Marianne had a far-off look in her eyes for a moment before Bernadetta got her attention, and Byleth let herself relax as the two nobles engaged in awkward, yet earnest conversation.
____________________________________________________________________________

I grinned at Ferdinand as I handed the tea box to him. "Sorry it took me so long," I said sheepishly. "I've been busy running around."

The noble's demeanor immediately improved. "Ah, thank you! I was afraid I wouldn't see it again! This is a difficult blend to get ahold of back in the Empire, so I was quite looking forward to drinking it." His smile widened. "Please, join me for a cup!"

I blinked. "Er…"

"As it is my birthday, I insist," he said, placing a hand on my back and shepherding me onward.

Thirtieth of Great Tree, huh…

I pondered on if I had anything that would make a good present.

In short order, Ferdinand had brewed the tea and we'd settled down to drink it in the gardens.

I took a sip. It wasn't bad, but definitely not one of my favorites.

Ferdinand took a long pull. "Exquisite," he said happily.

"Happy Birthday," I offered, smiling a little. "How has your day been so far?"

"Well, it has had its ups and downs. Bernadetta seemed to take my condolences for the loss of her father badly, so I do regret upsetting her," Ferdinand admitted.

"Well, her situation was complex. From what I gathered, he went beyond strictness and directly into the realms of abuse to prepare her to be married off," I said off-handedly. "I wouldn't go into more detail than that, though - it's up to her to disclose any more."

Ferdinand stared, smile fixed on his face. "I did not know that," he said after a moment, his confident grin dimming slightly.

"Well, it's not as though the faults of the nobility are common knowledge, even among the upper echelons. Sometimes even the dead do not speak freely of such things," I said with a gesture.

Ferdinand turned contemplative. "This is true. Even when one's instincts indicate that someone may behave in a certain manner behind closed doors, it is rare to catch more than the faintest whispers of misconduct." His smile returned. "That said, as unfortunate as his passing was - and the questionable legality of it," he said with a glint in his eye, "I believe that with some polish, Bernadetta will make a superior Countess to her father's potential Count."

"She certainly possesses more kindness and empathy," I remarked.

Ferdinand shook his head. "Perhaps we should move to a better topic? It is considered ill behavior to speak poorly of the dead," he said after a moment. "I regret letting myself slip so."

I shrugged. "I mean, I wasn't raised in polite society and I talk shit to dead people all the time when they earn it, so…"

Ferdinand gave me a look of extreme shock. "I. I see. However, now I am curious… what was your upbringing like?" he asked as he recovered.

"Well, I had a big family that got massacred by a cult. The survivors were a sister, three brothers, and a niece. Then after we had a huge fight with some cats-paws of the cult, I got separated and eventually ended up with Byleth and Jeralt. I think I was… nine, at the time? Then I followed them around for eight years, occasionally had a skirmish with the cult, and ended up here." I took a sip of tea in the deafening silence.

"How much time did you spend in civilization?" Ferdinand asked haltingly.

"Not much. Lots of inns and stuff, but mostly camping on the road. I was a cute little imp with my family, and I didn't act too differently with Jeralt and Byleth. Though the whole dead people thing got me labeled as 'Jeralt's Creepy Kid Number Two'," I said off-handedly.

Ferdinand took a sip of tea to brace himself. "I see," he said quietly.

"But how about you? I remember you being really proud of the whole Aegir thing," I asked.

Ferdinand lit up. "Ah, yes! My family has long been advisors to the Emperor, including my father. It is my hope to serve a similar role to Edelgard once she ascends the throne. To that end, I must exceed her own skill to establish my own qualifications as such." He put a few pastries on a small plate and began to nibble.

"Well, if you're going to advise her, maybe you should look more to scholarly pursuits and engaging with people outside the nobility? It'd be kind of hard to address the needs of the Empire if your main abilities directly lend themselves to rubbing elbows with nobles and warfare," I pointed out. "Nobles manage the big picture, but commoners keep the Empire going. Butchers, farmers, blacksmiths, merchants and artisans - not to mention carpenters, masons, fishers, woodcutters-"

"I believe I take your meaning," Ferdinand said with a laugh. He gave me a thoughtful look. "That is rather insightful advice," he said after a moment.

"Well, a lot of people are privy to the glories of rulers. Not a lot can hear their regrets," I said, thinking on Lambert's own distress at how Faerghus had fallen.

"Indeed. It would seem the best way to advise Edelgard is to study the workings of the Empire - I have already taken steps in that direction for the sake of managing Aegir territories," Ferdinand said with a nod. "Agriculture in particular is fascinating, really."

"It's also vital. Everyone loves a good meal, but you need to remember where that food comes from and give incentives for it to keep coming," I said pointedly. "Whether or not nobles own a means of production, they themselves do not produce - and to forget that is to embrace peril."

Ferdinand nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, you have a point. Nobles do protect the commonfolk - or should," he said with a sudden intensity to his tone, "but we must not forget that we live by their whim as much as they do by ours. If we lean on them too heavily, that foments rebellion, and that ends badly for all involved."

I shrugged. "Depends on who's getting rebelled against and why, I guess. I know a few nobles who got unseated and really had it coming."

Ferdinand nodded. "Indeed. That is why a noble must embrace their duty and provide for the people just as they are provided for in turn." He made a thoughtful noise. "Unfortunately, we have few at the academy from the Adrestian commonfolk for me to inquire of. Perhaps Dorothea…?"

I grimaced. "I think that might be something she's a bit touchy about, and she seems to already dislike you. I wouldn't push it," I said as I picked up a tart. I bit into it, and savored the fruit filling.

"I honestly do not know why," Ferdinand confessed. "I had no idea I'd given any of my classmates reason to think ill of me. Well, except perhaps Hubert."

"That's Hubert. I don't think he really likes anyone outside Edelgard unless they're useful to her, or they amuse him and don't affect her one way or the other." I finished the tart.

"Yes, but I don't recall ever meeting Dorothea," Ferdinand opined. "If I had given her offense, I would appreciate the chance to at least make amends for it."

I shrugged. "While I appreciate the problem there, I don't think I'll be getting involved with that one."

Ferdinand sighed. "That seems appropriate. After all, I wouldn't dream of coming between you and Dorothea's budding romance!" he said, finishing in a happy tone.

I coughed as I felt my face heat up, quickly placing a Glamour before I got too red. "Thanks," I said with a strained smile.

Ferdinand returned with a sunny grin of his own.

He really did mean well, even if he was a little overly peppy - and that was me saying that.

How did Edelgard's House have so many happy people? Dorothea, Caspar, Ferdinand, even Petra… though Linhardt, Bernadetta, Hubert, and Edelgard herself balanced them out.

And Dorothea had her own issues… then there was Petra who came from a vassal state of the Empire and I doubted that was fun…

Okay, fine, maybe it wasn't quite as sunny as assumed at first blush.

"Mith? Your tea will get cold," Ferdinand reminded me before drinking his own.

I picked the cup up and took another drink. "Thanks for reminding me. This flavor is probably one of the ones that's better hot and unbearable cold."

Ferdinand chuckled. "Unfortunately so. It is exquisite when fresh, but… some tea can be enjoyed after cooling. Almyran Pine Needles is not one of them."

I gave a light hum. "So I was wondering - did you want me to get on Seteth to work with you on lances? He can do axes as well, if you're looking at Great Knight training," I said as I gestured with my free hand.

"I was hoping to learn about armor training," Ferdinand said with his usual smile. "Though axes would indeed help with those goals. If I'm to maintain my cavalry training, however, I will need to keep pace with lances."

"So axes, armor, riding, and lances for a while at least," I commented, earning a nod from the noble.

"Just so," he agreed.

"Hm. Jeralt's good at riding, but he's not always around. Hanneman teaches the Lions, but I could probably con him into giving you and the Eagles riding lessons by letting him look at my Crest. Seteth has lances and axes well in hand… The armor's going to be the trick, I'll admit," I said with mild regret. "By can teach most anything pretty well, but she has her hands full with her own class. I'm lucky enough to only have to do a weekly seminar; she has five days a week of teaching and just as much experience as I do."

Ferdinand nodded. "I suppose I could ask around the knights to see who has advice for armor training," he thought aloud.

"If Alois is around, I could leverage Jeralt to get him to do it. Or bribe Jeralt with booze. If we're lucky someone else might rotate in. It wouldn't be as regular, but…" I trailed off.

Ferdinand smiled again. "I appreciate the thought, Mith. And as you surmised, my ultimate goal is to be a Great Knight. The mobility, power, and endurance to protect others fits my ideal of nobility quite well."

I nodded. "I get that. Not for me, but, you know."

"Indeed," Ferdinand said with a nod. "Well, I've had a pleasant teatime," he said cheerfully. "I feel as though we've gotten to know each other better, and I've learned a bit as well."

I thought about what I had on my person and rummaged in my pockets. I felt a little embarrassed, as I usually carted a satchel around the grounds for such things.

"Here," I said, offering a fresh whetstone. "I don't have much on me, but it'd be rude to not give you a present - especially after you shared your tea."

Ferdinand managed to brighten up further, somehow. "This will be quite useful!" he said happily. "Many thanks, my friend."
____________________________________________________________________________

Thankfully, the mock battle was to take place in a field not far from Garreg Mach. This meant Byleth could relax for a moment as she wandered by the fishing pond in the early morning.

She felt her shoulders stiffen as she caught sight of a familiar tan robe and hat standing at the end of the pier.

She walked up to the man, not bothering to hide her presence. There was a good chance he'd notice her, even if she tried.

"Byleth," Macuil said off-handedly, scrutinizing the pond.

"Macuil. You're not…"

"A goose?" The green-haired man shot her a wry smirk. "Magic comes more easily in this form, though I am capable of dispatching most dullards in disguise. The task before me requires a slightly delicate hand, so I decided to shed the feathers for a moment."

The mercenary raised an eyebrow.

Macuil sighed. "Flayn was most distressed by my little jape with the fishing poles. She gave me such a forlorn look that even I could not be unmoved," he said dryly.

Byleth scoffed. "And here I thought Mith was the only one who could get that reaction from you," she said distantly.

The smirk flashed across his face again. "I've always had a minor soft spot for the youngest in my remaining family. Cichol, Indech, and Seiros would love to go on at length about how cruel, callous, and vindictive I am. To Cethleann and Emyth'solan, I'm simply the grumpy yet loving eldest brother. Or uncle, in Cethleann's case."

"I see. Though that doesn't explain why you broke cover," Byleth commented.

Macuil lifted a hand towards the lake. "There is a battle later today, so I shall be short about it. In the meantime, however, I suppose I shall gather some fish for Cethleann's sake."

Byleth narrowed her eyes.

Gather fish…?

The pond erupted in a cyclone of water, stretching skyward. It roared and gleamed in the early morning light, spiraling and spreading a light spray over the shore.

"Mac, what in-!?" Byleth shouted, feeling her pulse race with more emotion than she'd felt before.

Macuil gave a grim chuckle as dark shapes shot out of the cyclone and slammed into a group of nearby empty barrels like arrows from a battalion.

Byleth breathed deeply as the cyclone gently settled back into the pond, the water smoothing until it was undisturbed. Then she looked into the barrels.

Fish of all stripes flopped helplessly, mouths gaping open and shut.

She whirled on her heel, opening her mouth to chastise the source of the chaos.

Macuil was nowhere to be seen.

Mac the goose lightly preened his feathers, then shook his head.

"HONK."

Byleth stared as he waddled off, likely in search of Mith.

She made a mental note to tell Claude to avoid the forest if possible. Mith was one thing - he'd fight with kid gloves against Claude, Marianne, and possibly the others.

Mac would do something possibly dangerous, and definitely humiliating.

Byleth didn't need that in her life today.
____________________________________________________________________________

The students gathered near the field, preparing for battle.

Dimitri had chosen Mercedes, Dedue, and Ashe for his team. Though he lacked mystic weight, he had a healer, two ranged fighters, and he and Dedue could handle most threats that closed with them.

Given Edelgard had selected Dorothea, Ferdinand, and Hubert, he felt justified. Mercedes was a good counter for Edelgard's vassal and Dorothea, as magic had less of a sting for her. Not to mention Dedue's strength and durability would serve well against Ferdinand and Edelgard, allowing Ashe and Dimitri to work in damage. Manuela was primarily a Faith caster, so while dangerous, would not be as great a direct threat as her Eagles.

Then there were the Deer. Claude had chosen Hilda, Lysithea, and Raphael. It seemed he had chosen a similar grouping to Dimitri, except he focused on offense over defense.

It would not surprise the prince if the new professor could heal, however. Such a skill would be of great use in mercenary work.

Then there was Mith, standing by the blasted goose as Lady Rhea cast the two of them worried looks.

The adjunct had a diabolical grin painted across his face as he thumbed the handles of his new daggers, prepared for the exercise and training back at the monastery.

The goose… was simply being a goose. A terrifying, patient, malevolent goose. That possibly knew wind magic, if Sylvain and Mercedes were to be believed.

The noble had ingratiated himself with Mith, to Dimitri's surprise. It was how he had learned that the forest in the center of the field, which was a very attractive area for gaining both cover and the high ground, was about to be the most dangerous area of all.

"Students," Seteth said firmly. "Your starting positions have been determined. You will have half an hour to prepare and arrange yourselves." He cleared his throat. "As a new… addition… to our usual start-of-year bout, we will be employing an adjunct professor as a course hazard." His face looked pained. "He has decided to bring his familiar into battle for this purpose."

"Hiiiii!" Mith said with terrifying cheer, waving both hands as he stood on one leg. "Come to the forest in the middle for an ass-beating!"

"HONK."

Lady Rhea sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat.

Flayn, who stood near them, giggled into her clasped hands.

"Also, I found this on a supply run before we got here!" he said, holding up a small phial of translucent blue liquid. "If you manage to beat me somehow, you get it!"

"That is Sacred Snowmelt," Edelgard said with a glint in her eye. "It is an immensely powerful enhancement artifact. How did you get it?"

Mith slipped the phial into a pocket on his armor. "Doesn't matter. Byeeee!" he said, raising his arms overhead and lifting his leg again.

Mac let out a terrifying honk and shot into the air, pausing just long enough for Mith to grab hold of his legs and somehow ride along.

"Hahahahaha!"

The students watched the adjunct swing in the air all the way to the woods.

Dimitri watched Byleth lean over to Claude, whispering harshly.

His fellow lord seemed to give a long sigh and a wry smirk.

Dimitri looked over to Edelgard, who looked severely contemplative.

He shook his head and turned to his Lions, Professor Hanneman watching them thoughtfully.

"We will not be testing Mith's patience if at all possible," he said firmly. "Our goal is to win the exercise. The reward is great, but can only be used by one person - and failed attempts drastically hurt our chances at achieving our stated objective."

Ashe nodded nervously. "I- yes, your Highness. We will avoid the forest at all cost."

Dedue simply nodded, eyes alert. "If others wish to break themselves on that rock, they may do so. Mith has stated repeatedly that he specializes in assassination and misdirection. A forest is likely to be one of his strongest terrains. Add to that the goose…" Dedue trailed off deliberately.

"I'm okay with most magic, but Mith said Mac can use Excalibur. That might be a little much for me," Mercedes said in her soft voice.

"Indeed. Between that and Mith's own illusions and skill, we're best served focusing on our opponents," Dimitri said firmly.

Hanneman hummed. "It's a shame, really. If that phial holds what he says it does, it would enhance the user's physical strength greatly - and permanently. Something with that power often has side effects, but that relic has no such drawback."

Dimitri gave a sharp laugh. "Well Professor, you'll find that I've no need of that." He gave a wry smile. "I have enough troubles keeping my weapons intact."
____________________________________________________________________________

Edelgard arranged her group around the outside of the forest, behind some makeshift walls that separated them from where Claude would start. Hubert and Ferdinand stood on one side, with Dorothea and herself behind cover.

"Do you think we're far enough out?" Dorothea fret. "I mean, even if Mith and I are friends, he's not going to hold back on anyone who goes in there. That face said it all," she said with a shiver.

Edelgard watched Ferdinand posture as Hubert sneered. "These thickets provide sufficient cover, and are outside of the trees. If they count as the forest, we will find out shortly and break cover to leave the area," she said firmly.

"Good plan. I like it," Dorothea said. She gave a brief wave to where Professor Manuela had set up on a mystic glyph of healing and defense. There had been another to the side, but Professor Hanneman had staked it out beforehand for the Lions.

That meant Professor Byleth was mobile, and from what she had seen of the mercenary that meant playing to her greatest strengths. Claude was no slouch, but Edelgard was convinced that the greatest threat was the Deers' Professor.

She took a moment to be grateful that Marianne was not there. She and Bernadetta had begun to fraternize after the scene in the dining hall, and Edelgard did not relish the idea of telling the neurotic archer they would have to fight one of her new friends.

It really worked out better for everyone this way.

"BEGIN!" Seteth called out, somehow making himself heard over the field.

Edelgard quickly took stock of the field before her.

Dimitri was in the corner on the opposite side of the forest - though calling it a forest was generous. It was a copse of trees that one could cross in roughly five minutes at a quick march.

Byleth had clumped Claude and the Deer together and were holding position at the southern part of the field, and-

"Aha! A chance to outshine Edelgard once again!"

"No, no, no," Edelgard chanted under her breath.

"Ah. As expected, Ferdie," Dorothea said tiredly.

"I AM FERDINAND VON AEGIR!"

"Hubert!" Edelgard called out in exasperation.

"As you will it, Lady Edelgard!" her vassal said sharply, following Ferdinand as he made a blind charge towards the Deer.

Dorothea gently rubbed Edelgard's back as the princess slumped slightly. She looked over. "Ah, Ashe is trying to bait them towards Dimitri. Perhaps he'll focus on the Deer and between him, Ferdie, and Hubie, they can whittle them down some?" she offered.

Edelgard gave Dorothea a long glance, then looked back over towards the Deer.

"YOU'RE MAKING ME WORK!"

Ferdinand went flying, his training lance snapped in half from Hilda's axe uppercut. He hit the ground, rolled three times head over heels, and came to a halt flat on his back.

Edelgard rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I should have picked Petra. Why didn't I pick Petra?" she opined.

"There, there, Edie; there, there," Dorothea soothed.

Edelgard watched with grit teeth as Hubert's dark magic clashed with Lysithea's, and Claude and Ashe traded arrows.

This unfortunately left Raphael open to handle Ashe and Byleth to tackle Hubert, neither of which was an ideal situation.

Byleth lunged in as the Miasma bolt left Hubert's hands, intercepted by Lysithea's own spell in a clash of warping darkness. Her training sword gleamed, the enchantments keeping the edge from doing lasting damage shining even in the daylight. She came in with a blindingly fast strike from the side where Hubert's eye was covered by his hair, hiding an old injury.

Edelgard winced as Byleth clipped Hubert's arm, forcing him back.

Hubert quickly backpedaled, keeping his uninjured arm raised and ready to cast another spell.

Edelgard turned her attention over to Raphael and Ashe, where…

"Hey Professor, now what?" Raphael asked, holding the small archer in a bear hug. Ashe dangled off of the ground with a nonplussed look on his face.

"Raphael, you should probably knock him out…" Claude said as he rubbed his side gingerly. A padded arrow lay to the side, showing what had caused the wound.

"But it's Ashe! I mean, he makes some of the best food!" Raphael boomed cheerfully.

"Well, my bow's broken so I can't do much," Ashe allowed with a slight blush. "I just wish I'd had a chance to do better. If you let me go, I'll quit the field," he offered.

True to his word, the training bow as in splinters on the ground, while Raphael's gauntlets had no hint of damage.

Edelgard rubbed her forehead. "Dorothea, prepare Thunder spells on my mark," she ordered, fishing out one of her hatchets.

Dorothea nodded, sparks crackling up and down her arms.

It seemed the Deer had a cohesive strategy. Edelgard hoped that Hubert could down at least one of them before they arrived at her position.
____________________________________________________________________________

I whistled tunelessly as I strode around the wooded area. "Forest. This is a forest? I've seen bigger forests in picture books," I said boredly.

Mac preened a little, eyeballing a very small pond. It was definitely standing water too far to simply jump across, but wading it would likely be simple. It was probably half the size of the monastery's fishing pond, most likely smaller.

"It sounds like they're having fun out there," I said with a shrug. "Go nuts."

That's when I heard rustling in the trees.

I narrowed my eyes. Presence erasure or no, none of them had gotten good enough to get that close without my notice.

And here was me with training daggers and no real edge.

"Mac, get ready to get serious," I said darkly, shaking my hands out.

The goose quickly waddled away, likely to find a secluded spot to revert.

I hoped he would make it back soon.

There was a sharp crackling noise, and the first assassin dashed out of the bushes. Clad in black with a gleaming longsword in hand, he leapt up and spun with it in a reverse grip as he tore through the air towards me.

I quickly applied a Glamour to myself, and vanished as I launched myself to the side.

With a harsh clanking, a knight in heavy armor with a massive shield barreled through the underbrush, coming to a halt in the middle of the clearing.

I kept the Glamour up and got a tree between those two and myself, and focused.

Those two… three… four. Four intruders.

I flicked my eyes toward Tomas as he floated towards me, face drawn in consternation.

"Solon brought them here to test the waters," he said quickly in his rasping voice. "I couldn't get here fast enough to warn you. It was a last-second decision, so I didn't know. Either you die, or chaos is sown among the students."

I felt my mouth draw down in a frown.

"He's also readied spells to remove them from the field, so don't expect any bodies to linger," Tomas continued in a warning tone. "Be careful, Emyth'solan. He won't take the field, but he is watching."

Fun fact: Glamour doesn't work on the dead. Even if Tomas could see me, I was still in cover.

That said, if Solon was as fearsome as Tomas was convinced he was, I couldn't be sure he wouldn't just see through my illusion.

There was more movement as the assassin and armor knight patrolled.

A corpse-pale man in black armor with a glimmering bow stepped out along with a man in a beaked mask and black robes.

Fantastic. Sniper and dark mage.

"Any sign?" the mage asked in a nasal voice.

The assassin turned his head and shook it.

"Faugh. Cowardly beast. Flush him out. If that fails, we leave and engage the children. One or two bodies ought to rile the lords and shake faith in the Church," the mage said.

I waited until the assassin turned his attention away from me, and then lunged forward, Flechettes materializing in my grip like claws.

Not as good as my daggers, but…

I extended them slightly as the lines of shadow plunged into the Agarthan's ribcage, perforating through to the other side. I followed up with a rapid backstep as he stumbled with a gurgle, dodging the knight's falling axe and cursing myself for not bringing heavier ordinance. However…

I smirked beneath my illusion.

The sniper whipped his bow forward. "I've got you now!" he barked, pulling an arrow tight.

"You fool!" the dark mage shrieked as he loosed it towards the assassin, completely away from me.

The shaft pierced his head, leaving the fletches sticking out the back of his skull as he fell.

"He is an illusionist, and you just took out our fastest member!" the mage berated, raising a wall of fog around us.
On the one hand, it didn't inhibit my vision. On the other, any movement I made would disturb the fog, showing where I was.

I quickly climbed a tree away from them, gazing down as they patrolled the clearing.

"He won't leave," the mage growled. "He knows we'll target his little friends if he does. No, this is him against us."

The sniper shot him an odd look. "What did you say?"

I smirked to myself.

The mage swept a hand through the air, gleaming with a golden haze. "I said he's going to try to use us against each other!" he snapped.

"Ah. Thought you said something about…" the sniper trailed off and shook his head.

The knight continued to circle slowly.

I waited as they began to go further into the forest, and the knight got beneath me.

Flechette might be shaped as a weapon, but it was still a spell. That meant armor wasn't worth spit against it.

I grinned, making my voice echo from all corners of the clearing as I jumped up.

"You deserve this!"

I folded my arms, spawning three Flechettes in each hand, clutched between my fingers. Then I let fly.

The shadowy dirks plunged down through the knight's helmet, causing him to stumble and fall to one knee.

I dropped in front of him, and lashed out with another Flechette in a reverse grip, punching through his breastplate and into his sternum.
With a wet rasp, he fell backwards.

"There!" the mage rasped, sending a Miasma towards me, the dark orb streaming through the air.

I flipped out of the way, growling in anger.

If I'd had my blades, I'd have gotten both of them by now!

I felt my eyes widen as a luminous glow enveloped me.

"I see you!" the sniper roared, and the arrow flew.

I bit back a scream as it punched through my shoulder and pinned me to the tree.

Quickly, I conjured another Flechette and readied to throw it as best as I could-

Wind tore through the clearing, and Macuil's robed form stood between them and I.

"You made two mistakes," he said icily as the fog was shredded.

The sniper took aim and let fly, but the arrow was swatted like an errant fly by the howling winds.

"Firstly, you attacked my brother," he said with a gesture at the sniper.

The man was enclosed in a cocoon of air.

I closed my eyes as the sound of wet tearing and cracking filled the air. Doing it was one thing, but being a captive audience was another.

The dark mage roared out a spell, and I heard Macuil scoff.

I looked as the ray of darkness clashed with a torrent of air from Macuil's empty hand.

I chanced a glance as the sniper's corpse, and his gear was in tatters - much like the rest of his body, bones and all.

"Your second mistake was starting this so close to a body of water, especially after the letter I received this morning," my eldest brother continued in that same icy tone, now tinged with smugness.

I grit my teeth through the pain in my shoulder as I tried to decipher his meaning. Water? What did water have to do-

The small pond erupted in spray, and I saw a figure through the curtain of liquid.

"JUST SAY WHAT."

"What is the-" the mage squawked, whirling.

A silvery arrow humming with divine power shot through his head, the vegetation, and out into the plain.

The slipstream tore through the forest with a howl, carrying trees, bushes, and the dead Agarthans in its wake.

The sounds of battle quieted before frightened and angry yells began to echo.

I blacked out for a moment as the arrow ground against something in my shoulder and left me gasping for breath as blood stained my armor.

"We need to remove it to move him," Macuil said coldly.

"I got a better idea," the deep, resonant voice replied.

A massive hand braced against the tree, and gripped down.

The bark splintered, and I fell forward against a massive, barrel-shaped chest.

"Oh, Mithy," the man rumbled softly. "You've grown so."

"Come up with a name, Indech," Macuil growled. "We're off to see 'Rhea' shortly. Address me as Apen like this, and Mac with feathers."

"...Indy?" I rasped.

"That works," my older brother boomed cheerfully. He gently scooped me up in his arms, minding the arrow piercing my shoulder.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. This was a setback. I'd been caught off-guard, but-

Macuil - Apen - placed a hand on my head. "Save your recriminations for later. Now you need to be healed, and we need to talk security with… Rhea and Seteth." His tone had a curl of disgust. "It seems my time of leisure is at an end, if those subterranean apes can penetrate the wards of Garreg Mach."

I gave a soft huff, then grimaced at the spike of pain that shot through me. "Maybe… can still… on your days off…" I grit out.

"Tough lil' guy," Indy rumbled. I squinted my eyes open, and took in his short-cropped hair, and full-face beard.

"Quickly, Indy," Apen said in a tart tone. "Also, names. Flayn is-"

"Cethleann is Flayn, Cichol is Seteth, Seiros is Rhea. You told me this a month ago," Indy said patiently. "I may not be the best with socialization, but I'm not stupid… Apen."

"Right. Apologies," Apen said bitterly as I felt myself move.

It was a few moments until we hit the sunlight.

"I got their weapons, if you were worried," Apen said conversationally.

"Loot's… good."

"MITH!" Dorothea screamed, running up to me. She placed her hands near my wounded shoulder, not touching the arrow.

"I believe the exercise is off," Edelgard said from somewhere nearby, voice icy with rage.

"Goddamn black hats. Always shitting it up," I grumbled tiredly. I'd gotten used to the pain enough I could open my eyes.

Claude stared at me with ice in his gaze, Hilda behind him with a hand over her mouth and wide eyes. Raphael stood with a helpless look, and Lysithea sneered in rage.

Dimitri frowned worriedly as Mercedes hustled forward to examine my shoulder, murmuring in concern. Ashe stepped forward, only for Dedue to place a hand on his shoulder to hold him back.

Dorothea cradled my head as she leaned over Indy's arm, and I saw Edelgard enter my field of view.

Her face was a careful mask, but her eyes blazed. "Did you get anything from them?"

I smirked, looking upwards.

The four of them floated, snared in spectral chains. The mage shivered as the other three floated listlessly. I flicked my good hand, and all four vanished in a shower of violet sparks.

"Well, they're exorcised. But Apen said he'd patch the wards so that sort of spell wouldn't work again," I offered tersely.

Edelgard turned to him, frowning slightly. "I thank you for rescuing my friend. However, I don't believe…?"

"I am his elder brother," Apen said, staring down the heir to the Adrestian throne.

"Oh, me too! Call me Indy," my giant of an elder brother said happily.

"We need to get Mith to the infirmary!" Mercedes said firmly, her soft voice doing nothing to detract from the command in her tone.

I sighed. "No, it's fine. Just leave it there. Maybe it'll turn into a third arm?" I grit out.

I stared up at Byleth as she loomed threateningly.

"Mercedes. Dorothea. Move. Indy. Follow me."

Rhea ran up, Flayn and Seteth close behind.

"Your holiness- NEVERMIND!" Seteth barked out when he saw the arrow in my shoulder. "Flayn, clear a path ahead! You two, with me! Manuela! MANUELA!"

Rhea's eyes fell on the corpses of the Agarthans.

"We will deal with the bodies of the dead very soon, Lady Rhe-" Dimitri began as I felt Indy begin to move again.

I felt the heat on my skin, even with Indech between me and the flame.

"Or you can handle it right now," Claude said in a bright tone. "I approve."
____________________________________________________________________________

I scowled as I lay in the bed, staring at the vase full of flowers next to me.

"Well, nothing serious got hit and you've taken to the magic well. Give it a night and you'll be terrorizing the monastery again," Manuela said in amusement, applying the last layer of bandage to my arm. "Honestly, I'm amazed. Most injuries of that sort would have rendered the bone shattered."

Well, I was always special…

"Lucky me," I said in wry amusement. "Thanks, by the way," I continued in a softer tone.

The physician gave me a flirty wink. "No problem. I'd do the same for anyone who came in here." She sighed. "And now Lady Rhea's on the warpath trying to figure out how those guys got in."

"What happened with the mock battle?" I asked.

"Your sister cleaned house is what happened. She directed the Deer like a pro, patched any bruises as soon as they showed, and tore through the Eagles and Lions alike," Manuela said with a small scowl. "Honestly, training sword or no I feared for my life when she just stormed up on me."

"Congratulations, she respected you as a threat," I said with amusement.

"I'd rather a man respect me with a few drinks and a ring," Manuela opined.

"Wouldn't we all?" I joked.

She smirked at me. "Oh? Anything Dorothea needs to know?" she said teasingly.

I thought about shrugging, then decided against it for obvious reasons. "No. She knows I'm open in my tastes."

Manuela giggled. "Well, well. Small wonder Claude's been wandering the grounds with his bow on his back then."

I narrowed my eyes. "We're friends. I haven't… well. Haven't struck up anything with a guy." I relaxed. "So what's the prognosis for Dorothea?"

Manuela hummed. "Faith magic is tough for her. I can understand; she hasn't had a lot to believe in, between us," she said with a conspiratorial nod. "But I think she might have a talent for it if she puts the effort in. So far she has, and she's had a few minor breakthroughs. At this rate, I'll definitely be able to request her as an apprentice if she keeps up the work." The songstress smiled. "It'll be good to work with her again," she admitted.

"She looks up to you," I said with a smile of my own. "And I can see why."

"Oh?" Manuela said teasingly. "Do go on."

"You're capable, kind, and you care about people. You're serious about teaching, and if this is any indication, about anyone who crosses your infirmary. I've never seen you onstage, but I assume you were also an inspiration there, if Dorothea's comments mean anything." I blinked up at her.

Manuela placed a hand over her mouth for a moment. "You really are too sweet, Mith," she said fondly. "I'll go let people know you're ready for visitors." Her smile turned wry. "Brace yourself, sweetie. I think half the monastery is making a line."

"So… the officers-in-training, Byleth, Jeralt, Rhea, Flayn, Seteth, and my siblings?" I offered.

"And Emile and Hanneman to boot," she replied. "If they stay too long I might usher them out just to get you some peace and quiet."

I sighed as she opened the door.

"Single-file, you ruffians! No, not you Lady Rhea, but please set an example!"

A blur shot in the door and seated themselves by my bedside.

"Hi, Claude," I said tiredly.

He glowered down at me. "What the hell happened out there?"

"Teleportation magic. There's a mole on the grounds, and my informant didn't find out about their plans until too close to the execution." I sighed. "I'm wondering how much use leaving them on the board is. On one hand, it's free intel. On the other, they're a threat."

Claude sighed. "Well, I watched Apen work on those wards, and holy crap is your brother terrifying," he said with a wry grin.

Felix stalked in, eyes blazing in fury.

"Uh-oh," I said faintly.

"What were you thinking?" he bit out.

"That I was in a controlled exercise and that I could afford to leave my live steel behind. I was wrong. Now I'm thinking I want to work on my Faith skills until I can toss out a good Silence to keep mages from countering my illusion with a bit of fog," I admitted.

Claude looked from me to him, then back.

Felix relaxed minutely. "How's the shoulder?" he asked gruffly.

"Mending. The bone… well. My body's weird. It should have shattered, but it didn't. The magic closed holes, and my arm will have full motion sometime tomorrow," I replied.

Felix gazed down at me. "Once you've healed… day after tomorrow, we're sparring. No illusions. I want to see how you move."

Claude hummed. "Checking his defenses?" he said.

Felix paused. "It would be best if he could evade attacks more effectively without them."

"Yeah. I've gotten too reliant," I said with a nod.

Felix gazed down at me, and his demeanor finally softened. "So long as you've learned, and put effort into fixing your flaws," he said in a rough tone. He paused. "I'm glad you're alive." He turned and stalked out.

Claude gave a soft huff. "I'm surprised he was so… nice about it," he admitted.

"Me too. Where's By? Or Rhea, for that matter?" I asked curiously.

"I snuck in. Byleth's organizing the chaos with some help from Dorothea, and of all people, Sylvain. Rhea's about to level the walls to get at you, and Flayn seems to be talking her down from it." Claude hesitated, then took my hand in his. "You're not allowed to die yet." He gave me a shaky grin.
"I've got way too many schemes that you're a part of."

"And you're fond of me," I said smugly.

Claude laughed. "That too," he said ruefully. "What would I do without my first real friend?" He froze, smile twitching a little.

I squeezed his hand. "Trust me, I feel the same."

He relaxed. "Okay, now I feel a little less… uh…" He shrugged and sighed. "Yeah, so, just pretend I didn't say that," Claude finally muttered.

"I'll treasure the memory," I said teasingly. "But I'll keep it to myself."

"That works too," Claude said with a grin.

"I SHALL SLAUGHTER THEM ALL! THEIR BLOOD WILL BE DRAINED FROM THEIR BODIES, UNTIL EVERY LAST DROP WATERS THE GODDESS' SOIL!"

I looked up with a flat look as Claude paled.

"Hey, Rhea. Good to see you too."

Byleth gently took the fuming Archbishop by the hand, and came to sit by me.

I let Claude run.
____________________________________________________________________________

Byleth stood by Jeralt, looking over the fishing pond from outside the dining hall.

"That was too close," Jeralt said gruffly.

"He got predictable. Trust me when I say he's going to double down to fix that," Byleth replied in a low tone.

Jeralt nodded. "I've seen Rhea angry, but this was a new level of pissed. Even Seteth is worked up, and even though I haven't known him long that's new."

"Well, he is our baby brother," Byleth replied quietly, checking around for eavesdroppers.

"Hrm. True. Never had siblings, but… anyways. How're you holding up?" Jeralt gave his daughter a look.

"Tired. Angry. We won the battle, but Mith got impaled. And that was good gear too, so he was definitely outmatched."

Jeralt raised an eyebrow.

"Silver bow, steel axe, and silver sword. Apen said there were a dark mage and armor knight, and an assassin and a sniper to make sure he went down," Byleth said lowly. "He also said that if Mith had disengaged, they had orders to go for the students."

Jeralt inhaled sharply, and Byleth tensed. "We need to tell Rhea," he said softly. "If they're already making moves…"

Byleth clenched her fists. "They could be trying to restrict his movement. If they caught wind that he's trying to get to Gaspard, then scaring Rhea like this is a good counter."

"Rhea would keep him here, sure, but he'd be safe," Jeralt pointed out.

"Would he?" Byleth murmured.

"You think Apen's letting that happen again?" Jeralt said pointedly. "And now this… Indy's here too. Is he really…?"

"Probably. Yes. He looks the part," Byleth said flatly.

"Right. Shit, that's all six of them," Jeralt muttered. "Yeah. He'll be safe here, now that everything's…" Jeralt moved a hand vaguely. "Anyways."

"He'll still want to go."

"That's up to Rhea," Jeralt said tiredly, and Byleth could only nod in agreement.
____________________________________________________________________________

I twitched my feet back and forth.

Bored. Bored, bored, bored.

I'd managed to talk Rhea down - somehow. She wanted to see me cast a full Silence before she approved the mission to Gaspard. I could work on that, and it was an achievable goal.

There'd been a lot of well-wishes, some fond, some distant. The painkiller Manuela had me on sort of blurred them all together.

Sadly, I had no books, no conversation, and my mind was starting to wander down paths I'd preferred untrod.

There was a soft knock at the door.

Yes!

"Come in," I called.

The door creaked open, and I saw Dimitri's blond head poke in.

"Apologies. I know it's late," he said quietly.

I blinked. "Is it?"

"The sun is down," Dimitri said, gesturing at the window.

Oh. "So it is," I said sheepishly.

"...this isn't the best time, I'm aware. But something has…" Dimitri trailed off.

Lambert stepped through the wall, gazing at his son with sorrowful eyes.

"You speak to the dead. You can- I-" he cut himself off. "I must know." Dimitri's eyes locked on mine, and I saw past the princely facade.

Dimitri was breaking. His eyes had bags under them, his face was tense, and I could see the strain in his shoulders. He was pulled taut.

I slowly exhaled. "Ask. I'll answer." I offered my hand to him.

He sat back. "The ghosts… who is here? Is it anyone I know?"

"Glenn is one. The other is Lambert. Your father," I said quietly.

Dimitri swallowed heavily. "Not… not Patricia?"

I winced.

Patricia had tried to argue for the necessity of what she'd done, to get back to her daughter after she'd been kidnapped. I hadn't spoken with her since.

Removing Cornelia from the board before she could use her knowledge to splinter Dimitri had become paramount.

He didn't deserve the burden - couldn't handle it - of knowing his stepmother was party to the Tragedy of Duscur.

"Mith?" Dimitri said in an urgent tone.

"We don't get on. Difference of opinion. She's around, but more concerned with Edelgard," I said softly.

"But she doesn't blame me?" he said, tone quieting.

I narrowed my eyes. "No. None of them do."

There was a moment of silence.

"I. Each night, I hear them. Crying for vengeance, baying for blood. I can't quiet them, even if I focus on your words," he confessed. "I don't know what to do. I want, so badly, to believe that they don't hate me. I want to believe that I can be… be what Faerghus needs me to be." He looked me in the eyes, gaze haunted. "Sometimes I hear them during the day as well. See them. Feel them gripping my arms and pulling me down."

Fuck. I did not have the tools for this. At least, not in my human form, but that power would not be kind to the stone around me if I shifted.

"I… do they love me? The ones who stayed?" Dimitri's voice was just this side of begging.

"Without reserve, without doubt," I said sharply. "The darkness you carry is your own guilt. The illusions are your mind preying upon itself in trying to cope with your loss. Whatever fortitude you have to fight it, that is Lambert and Glenn."

"So I am to blame," Dimitri whispered.

I stared at him. "How did you get that from what I said?" I asked incredulously.

Dimitri glared at me. "You just said that the voices were from my guilt!"

"Yes? And? Guilt is a thing people feel. It's not rational, it's not rooted in fact, it's a response to external stimuli," I said with a furrowed brow. "You're not at fault, you were a child. An unarmed child, at that. To expect you to fight against men like those barehanded isn't even folly, it's madness."

Dimitri lowered his eyes. "Ah. So it is not that I am at fault, or that the dead haunt me. I am merely ill in my mind," he said bitterly.

I sighed. "Well, you're in good company at least," I said tartly.

He looked up at me questioningly.

"I might not have the same issues as you, but I've lived through that scenario. I watched my siblings get cut down and slaughtered, and worse. I still have nightmares, and I still hear their voices." I grimaced.

Especially when I got near a Hero's Relic.

"But I keep forging forward. I have Jeralt, and Byleth, and I'm finding new people to rely on too. Rhea, Seteth, Flayn, I've even got my brothers back." I peered at Dimitri. "You aren't alone, Dimitri. If you reach out your hand, it won't get slapped away."

Dimitri swallowed. "But I… I'm the prince. I must-"

I held my hand out. "Then take mine. Let me be your strength, and I'll lean on you too. We'll stand together, and eventually people will look past the titles. Ingrid, Sylvain, Felix, Dedue, Ashe, Annette, Mercedes - they all care about you. If you tell them what you need of them, they'll answer. You just have to be honest with them," I said softly.

Dimitri hesitated, then slowly gripped my hand. Even through the glove, I could feel a chill.

"Your hand's… warm," he marveled. He moved his other hand forward, and gently squeezed my hand between both of his.

"When's the last time someone touched you outside of a sparring match, or a friendly slap on the back?" I asked gently.

Dimitri flushed a little. "I am not a child to be coddled," he protested faintly.

I snorted. "Really? Why is that everyone's first reaction? 'Noooo, I can't do affection, it's unnoble or unmanly or some other horseshit so I can be miserable,'" I said in a mocking, high-pitched tone. "Fuck, even I got a few squeezes on my shoulder from Byleth and Jeralt, and - you've met them, you know full well what they're like," I said in a playfully accusatory tone.

Dimitri gave a shaky laugh. "I. Yes, yes I do." He gave a faint smile. "Would it really… be alright to rely on someone like that?"

I groaned, leaning back in bed. "You got a knife?"

Dimitri stared at me owlishly.

I tugged my hand free as Lambert began to stare. Then I made grabby hands at him. "C'mon. Give."

He handed over a small dagger, and I jerked it out of its sheath.

"What are you doing?" Dimitri asked, voice rough with concern. "Don't-"

I pricked my arm, and blood kissed the blade before turning to white vapor.

Crackles of violet lightning shot out, lancing towards Lambert.

They wreathed his body, solidifying it from its transparent state, and he made a muffled thunk as his feet hit the floor.

Dimitri's eyes followed the light, and widened.

The two Blaiddyd men stared at each other.

"I am officially too tired to handle this. Hug your son or something, you have like fifteen minutes. I need a nap," I said flatly.

I turned on my side and stared at Dimitri for a moment, then pointedly closed my eyes.

I did smirk to myself as I heard Dimitri's muffled sobs while Lambert gently shushed him. From the sound of it, there was definitely a hug.

A few minutes later, I slowly opened my eye.

Dimitri leaned over me, straightening my blanket. His face seemed so much lighter than I'd ever seen it. He paused. "Did you… hear what he said?" he asked softly.

"One: I'm on bedrest. So I'm in bed, resting. Two: whatever he had to say was for you. If you want to share, I'm all ears. When I'm not fatigued from doing magic when I'm not supposed to." I gave a tired grin.

Dimitri tried to give me a severe frown. "I could have waited."

"Didn't wanna."

"My problems-"

"Don't care. Like you, wanted to help, so I did," I said smugly, snuggling into the mattress.

The prince stared down at me, then began to laugh softly. "Such an odd man you are," he said after a moment. He gave a small, warm smile. "Goodnight, Mith. I look forward to speaking with you again."

He gently pat my shoulder and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
____________________________________________________________________________

Indech gazed at the little man in his library, puttering around his books.

It would be easy.

A quick movement, and it would be over.

Macuil had his magic and research, Seiros was mighty in combat and inspired, Cichol was a leader and organizer. Cethleann had her mending, and Emyth'solan spoke to and for the dead.

Indech sought truth. Finding the source of the attack had been child's play. He hadn't even occluded his magic.

However, he would wait. Mith had decided to spare him this long, so he would at least ask. That was polite, right? Right.

And then he'd crush the Agarthan mage's skull like an egg.

Assuming Rhea didn't do something 'fun' to him first.

Indech moved silently back down the hall to resume his vigil over his little brother, the little mage none the wiser.

Hm. Maybe he'd be lucky and the pretty physician would be there?

That'd be nice.
 
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On Rhea and Mith
There's a lot to unpack, but I do agree with the interpretation you laid out in some regards, and disagree in others. <Big Post Incoming>
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I agree that Rhea does have an unfortunate tendency to misstep in catastrophic manners, but the degree of fault varies.

In terms of the Agarthan Conflict, the Agarthans punched first and punched hard. Seiros was the response to that, and was set to be restrained afterwards by a concept of 'justice' rather than 'vengeance'.

In short, the Agarthans had nukes. Lots of nukes that were used. Seiros had relatively little ground to cover in comparison to them, and just totaled their cities.

The cleanup Sothis had to attend to was accelerating the half-lives of all the radioactive isotopes (that somehow didn't spread because magic nukes I guess) to the point where life could return, and then accelerating that return as well. So that time... Seiros wasn't at fault.

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In terms of how she reacted to Zanado, it broke all the remaining six in various ways and degrees.

Cethleann found out about it, but Cichol didn't let her see it. So she grieved and was heartbroken, but not utterly traumatized. Cichol was around for the Agarthan conflict, so this wasn't his first rodeo. That said, he was still deeply scarred.

Indech developed social disabilities that made him unable to live among humanity on his own terms after the war.

Macuil became a recluse, and where he was once meant to be a teacher, he either tended to his own research or simply slept away from other life forms.

Seiros and Emyth'solan were the most broken.

Seiros was meant to stay with her family, and occasionally act to put down attacks on them. Active defense was never her role; she was meant to be a force of retribution. Without her family, she deteriorated and began to lash out. Hence the instability we see even in 'Necromancy'. She is a loving person, but the slightest hint of a threat (and she has a wide definition of threat) results in immediate overwhelming response. She needs someone to say 'dial it back' or have positive reinforcement for lesser responses. Without that, she gives into her baser instincts.

The course of the war and having Emyth'solan 'die' in front of her made her quit the field, and she did her best as the leader of the Church while her siblings and niece went into hiding.

BUT.

She was never meant to be a leader, and was always meant to be grounded by those she loved. Thus, everything that spun out of the Crest system were her attempts to do good - but she lacked the tools to keep things on a controlled course.
________________________________________________________

Seiros was not at Zanado for one simple reason: she was visiting family. Cichol was at the seaside with his wife and daughter where they lived, and she paid them a visit. That's the butterfly that lead to her change in situation. It's not something I'd planned to put into the fic, but there we have it.

________________________________________________________

Now we arrive at Mith.

In the spirit of brevity: he is fucked up. Catastrophically. Maybe even on a worse level than Rhea.

As you said, 'we are what we were made to be'. He was made to be a counselor, someone who grants peace to the living and dead. His powers dip into death and illusion, but he is meant to be a kindly, cheerful psychopomp. Though he was meant to be a bit more like Discworld's Death in Sothis' plan, he is working as designed.

There is, however, a massive design flaw: he doesn't know how to turn 'off', and it's breaking him down. He distracts himself with other people's problems, but that just keeps the massive traumas he suffered at bay. He literally cannot heal himself.

He doesn't know how to react to kindness - Byleth and Jeralt love him, and he knows this, but every other human up to Garreg Mach has treated him with distrust at best, scorn and fear at worst. Emile is an outlier because when someone rescues you from a hellish situation, sometimes you can overlook some harmless spooky stuff.

He has been deprived of true affection for nearly a decade. Byleth is incapable of expressing her own muted feelings, and Jeralt is too gruff to give Mith the validation and reassurance he was so used to receiving both before and after the Red Canyon Tragedy. Claude, Dorothea, Sylvain - they're the first people outside of his family that have touched him in gestures of affection in that entire time.

Even when he reunited with Rhea, he responded to her own needs first - not through any fault of hers, as she was trying to reciprocate, but because there was a grieving person in front of him and he had to fulfill his function.

I look forward to seeing how Byleth thawing, Claude's friendship, and the romantic subplots for both Dorothea and Sylvain address his issues (as well as their own).

___________________________________________________________

The last thing I want to address is Mith's stance on Crests and Edelgard.

He does believe that Rhea shares some blame for the system starting, but he places the main onus on the Agarthans and nobility for what it's become. In theory, assuming all nobles act to noblesse oblige, it could function. In reality, human nature dictates that power reveals a person's true nature, and humans can be infamously petty and will cling to what security they have at all cost.

Evil cults can and will exacerbate that issue.

Mith genuinely can't comprehend why the Relics are in circulation, but that's because he can hear the remnants of his family inside of them. No one else can, and Rhea didn't know that she was not, in fact, honoring her dead family by having them out in the world protecting humanity in her territory. And now? It's too late for a recall; the nobles would revolt if she tried. The best she can do is say 'you bring these onto the grounds, you seal them in these boxes so that the screams don't disturb my little brother'. Bless her, but she tried. The world was just against her in a lot of ways.

Mith's plan is to outline Seiros - and by extent, Rhea - as a well-intentioned, yet flawed person. Someone who can be reasoned with after a fashion, and can be an ally rather than an obstacle if met peaceably. By placing the onus where he feels it is due - on the Agarthans - he intends to turn Edelgard to side with the Church, and to broker an alliance between the two so Rhea can rectify her mistakes. He sees them as similar, so believes that if he can show them a more peaceful path they'll walk it willingly. To that end, they can form a coalition with others to stage a relatively bloodless revolution to dismantle the worst abuses of the Crest system.

Relatively because it still calls for the utter destruction of Those Who Slither. There are reasons why this isn't a bad thing, but that's either another post or something to just address in-text as a reveal (probably the latter).
 
Garreg Mach: Harpstring Serenade
"She's at your left!" Sothis cried out.

"Noted," Byleth said dully as she parried the incoming strike with her training blade.

"Reflexes check out," Catherine said with a grin. "Now let's see your speed!"

The blonde cut loose in a flurry of slashes that Byleth narrowly dodged and parried, letting her blade do most of the work as the strikes grazed off of the metal.

"Not too fast comparatively, but you've got good form," Catherine noted, stepping back. "But to put up with what you have, that's unsurprising." Her smile didn't fade. "We could use someone like you in the knights. That said, I'm not sure why Lady Rhea decided to have you teach…" the Holy Knight mused.

Byleth shrugged, lowering her blade but keeping it ready. "Part of it might have to do with protecting Mith all that time, but that makes more sense for being a knight. Maybe she wanted a person with practical experience to teach a class."

Catherine chuckled. "That's not a bad idea, especially since we send the kids into live fire situations once they're ready." She sighed. "I, uh, heard about your brother's plans for Gaspard."

Byleth raised an eyebrow as Catherine sheathed her sword and wiped sweat from her forehead.

"It's sound. If there is a nefarious force maneuvering the Western Church, then playing up their role in Christophe's death will realign Lonato's anger towards them. That said, we don't know how deep their hooks are, or if physical evidence would do anything to sway Lonato." Catherine grimaced. "He's still grieving. If you guys want to do diplomacy, I can't go. But you still need firepower if it all goes wrong," she said firmly.

"Mith can't operate with Thunderbrand, and Alois is too imposing, even if we know he has a good heart," Byleth pointed out. "Do you have any recommendations?"

Catherine hummed. "Most of my thinking takes place on the battlefield, but if I look at it tactically… yeah, she'd do."

Byleth tilted her head. "She?"

The knight grinned. "My partner. She's quiet, to the point, and a consummate professional. She won't strike until she has to if those are her orders, and then she'll be able to do nonlethal tactics if there's a chance for de-escalation."

Byleth nodded. "She sounds perfect."

Sothis hummed. "How mysterious. And a 'partner', hm?" she said in amusement.

"So how long have you two been together?" Byleth asked.

"Oh, we've worked together for years," Catherine said cheerfully. "I trust her to watch my back, and… well, I watch hers. Shamir might or might not trust a whole lot of people," she said with a laugh.

"And dating?" Byleth said bluntly.

Sothis planted her face in her hands.

Catherine started laughing long and loud. "Ahaha! Nah, no. I mean…" she trailed off. "Well, men are great, but Shamir…" Catherine made a thoughtful sound.

"I swear, if you just started some sort of romantic shenanigans…" Sothis said in a low tone.

"Anyways, we're pretty different and work great as partners. Don't think that would pan out," Catherine said with a wave of her hand. She pulled her training sword out. "I'm ready for another round. You?"

Byleth saluted with her blade, then extended it down and to her side.

Catherine grinned. "Atta girl! Now let's dance!"
____________________________________________________________________________

I'd managed to escape the training with Felix bearing only minor bruises. I was still tired from recovery, even if I had my full range of motion.

That was a few days ago.

I let out a yawn as I wandered around, fiddling with my satchel.

What to do my next seminar on…

Faith working would be a good idea, but for that I'd need to track down Dedue and Petra. That presented two problems.

For Dedue, he and the majority of the Lions were out with Dimitri on dispatch to handle a bandit problem. Edelgard, Hubert, and Caspar volunteered to fill the rest of the ranks for some reason, so Annette, Mercedes, and Sylvain stayed behind. Manuela tagged along as well to ensure there was at least one skilled medic.

Petra was around, but incredibly busy. I spied her working with some wyverns and doing a sky watch, so that would take a while yet.

I grunted as I bumped into someone while I was lost in thought, and I blinked to see I was near the greenhouse.

I looked down and saw a dark-skinned boy carrying a huge bag, almost as large as him. He swayed dangerously from overbalance, so I grabbed both him and the bag.

"Sorry! I've got you," I said.

"I've got it," he said in a firm tone.

"You good to stand?" I asked.
"I said I've got it," he repeated, a little more testy.

I let go. "Apologies. I'll try to watch where I'm going," I said sheepishly.

"Alright," he said as he kept going.

Hm. Not a lot of kids like him in Fodlan. Most people are pretty pale, with rare exceptions.

...maybe I could work on my seminar a little later.

I followed along and watched as he put down the bag with a grunt. "So uh, my name's Mith," I offered. There weren't any ghosts around, so maybe his parents were too?

He gave me a brief look. "Cyril. Lady Rhea's real worried about you," he said in a disapproving tone.

"I mean, we were separated for a while and then a few weeks after we reunite I get shot," I offered. "That's normal."

Cyril gave me a long look. "How do you know Lady Rhea, anyways?" he asked after a moment.

"We're related," I said with a smile. "She's been like an older sister to me for a long time. It was pretty terrible when we got split up, so we've been trying to make up for lost time when we can. But, you know how busy she is with running a religion and all."

Cyril gave a serious nod. "She's out there trying to help a lot of people. She even gave someone like me a place to stay," he said as he puffed out his chest. He turned back to the bag. "Now I've gotta fertilize these plants, so… yeah."

"Hm. Would you like help?" I offered.

"Nah, I got it," he said distractedly as he cut the bag open.

I spied a trowel and picked it up as he gazed around.

"Looking for this?" I asked, offering it to him handle-first.

He took it. "Yeah, thanks," he said as he got to work.

I watched him for a moment. "So… a place to stay, huh?" I said off-handedly.

Cyril kept scooping dirt.

"Did something happen to your family?" I asked. I made sure my tone wasn't too gentle. Too much and people think you pity them, not enough and you come off heartless. It can be a hard balance to strike.

"My parents died in a border skirmish. I was born in Almyra, and then I worked in House Goneril for a little while. Then Lady Rhea found me and a bunch of other kids, and we're here. I need to do work to pay her back," Cyril said after a moment.

I blinked. "She said that?" I asked incredulously. Rhea could be a little off, but child labor didn't really sound like something she'd enforce.

"Of course not! I do it because I wanna," Cyril said fiercely.

"Okay, yeah, that makes more sense," I said with a shake of my head. "Rhea's never really asked for returns when she decided to help someone who she knew couldn't pay her back."

"Yeah, Lady Rhea's great," Cyril said.

"So you decided to help around yourself?" I asked. "That's pretty mature of you. What do you do for fun?"

Cyril paused and stared at me for a moment. "I chop wood, tend greenhouses, tend stables, do sky watch sometimes, train with Shamir, clean the monastery-"

I squinted. "Do you… read books? Play games? Stuff most people your age do to unwind from all those tasks?" I paused. "And that's a lot."

"I'm from Almyra. Gotta earn my keep," he said firmly.

I frowned. "Fascinating. Is this something you decided, or something you were told?"

Cyril stared at me. "What're you mad for?" he said in disbelief.

"I'm concerned that people are mistreating you, and that Rhea likely doesn't know about it. If she took you in, she likely wanted to get you an education and equip you with tools to live your own life. At least, that's what the Rhea I remember would do," I finished in a mutter.

Cyril shuffled. "Nobody gives me much trouble anymore."

I relaxed.

"I've gotten pretty good at avoiding the knights from Leicester since I started training with Shamir," Cyril continued.

Fuck.

I rubbed my forehead. "Right. Okay. So, you shouldn't have to do that."

"Doesn't mean I don't," Cyril replied. "And even Lady Rhea can't just stare people down and make them like me."

"But she can tell them to leave you alone," I said pointedly. "And even if she can't change their minds, she can restrict their behavior so they don't cause you - or people like you - harm."

"Why do you care?" Cyril said, finally planting the trowel in the bag of fertilizer.

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked in confusion. "Does anyone need a reason to care about other people?"

Cyril crossed his arms. "I'm from Almyra," he stressed. "It doesn't have much to do with me, but a lot of people just see that and that's it. I'm not out to form a war party, go kill or be killed, and go home to feast and dance after a fight while the orphans run around looking for scraps. But I'm not from here either, and the only place I got is with Lady Rhea."

I rubbed my face. "I see."

Claude sure had his work cut out for him.

"I don't expect someone like you to understand all that, though…" Cyril said quietly.

"A little more than you expect," I said gently. "I haven't had a lot of friends before, thanks to being able to talk to the dead. It freaks people out, and even with Rhea saying it's holy or whatever, it still makes people uncomfortable. So maybe not because of where I'm from, but there's plenty about me people find unsettling."

Cyril looked up at me, blinking a little.

"So no, I don't know what it is to be a stranger in a strange land. But I do know how it feels to have only one or two people to count on, and the rest of the world seems to distrust you on principle," I finished.

Cyril opened his mouth-

"Hey! Who goes there!?" a loud voice yelled.

"Crud!" Cyril hissed. His eyes were wide. "I got distracted!"

I whirled and saw a man in full plate armor march into the greenhouse.

"What's an Almyran doing at Garreg Mach!?" he asked, removing his helmet. He had short brown hair and a patchy beard, with squinting blue eyes.

"Fertilizing the plants in the greenhouse, last I checked," I said dryly.

"Watch it, freak. I don't care what Lady Rhea says, only the mad speak to the air like you do," he growled.

I exhaled through my nose. Right. One of those guys.

Cyril stood behind me a little ways, and I glanced back.

He was definitely eyeing the door as an escape route.

"This can't stand," the knight growled. "A brat not of Fodlan, on holy ground?"

I felt my eyes narrow. "And what do you intend to do?" I asked tonelessly.

He glared at me and opened his mouth.

"What do you think you're doing."

The voice was terse, and sounded like it belonged to a woman. I didn't see anyone immediately, but then caught sight of a pale mercenary with dark eyes and short, dark hair.

She stopped right behind the knight.

"Shamir," the man growled. "I ought to have figured you'd be harboring an Almyran."

I felt my pulse spike. Fuck this.

"Actually, that would be my sister. You see, Byleth was kind enough to reunite me with her after many years of separation. It was tragic, really. But sis is doing a lot of good work here and I'm proud of her," I said in a too-sweet tone.

Shamir shot me an unimpressed look.

"I don't care who your tart of a sister is-" the knight growled.

"But you work for her, don't you?" I offered in polite confusion.

I heard Cyril's breath hitch. "Wait, you mean that-" he said in quiet awe.

The knight's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"He's talking about the Archbishop, you moron," Shamir said bluntly.

I gave a malicious snicker. "And you just called her a tart!" I said cheerfully. I leaned forward as the man slowly paled, baring my teeth in a grin. "So, what's your name? So I can pass on the message."

I decided to wrap things up with a few images of a greatly disapproving Rhea mirrored over his eyes.

The knight let out a wheeze and collapsed.

Shamir raised an eyebrow.

"Used Glamour to make him see Rhea where she wasn't," I said with a shrug. I offered my hand. "Name's Mith, nice to meet you."

"Wait, wait, wait," Cyril said with wide eyes, darting next to me. "You mean you're Lady Rhea's brother? For real!?"

Shamir glanced at Cyril. "He's related to her and Seteth. Seteth's a cousin, as is Flayn. Rhea openly claimed Mith, Apen, and Indy as her brothers, and spread the information among the top brass of the knights. The professors are next to be informed, then we're going to spread the word from there." She looked to me. "She figured that after the attempt on your life, her reputation would prove more of a shield than a target. I just came from her since I missed the earlier debriefing."

I shrugged. "I mean, if it keeps me from getting shot I guess."

Cyril stared at me accusingly. "You said she was like a sister!" he said in a squeaky voice.

"I was under the impression she wanted it kept a secret," I said with a shrug.

"And you told that grunt?" Shamir said with a single raised brow.

"He's an asshole. I was going to put him through enough illusions that I could just say that he hallucinated it and everyone else would believe me. Of course, that would depend on you guys backing my word over his." I shrugged. "You don't seem to care enough to gainsay me, and Cyril…" I trailed off. "I've got a good feeling about him."

Cyril scowled. "Good feeling, my foot! If you're really Lady Rhea's brother, of course I'd stick up for you," he said accusingly.

I laughed a little. "That's kind of you, Cyril."

Shamir shook her head. "Anyways. Catherine asked me to accompany you to Gaspard if the mission gets off the ground. I wanted to meet you first."

I tilted my head. "And?"

She lashed out with a quick jab that I narrowly ducked, and juked back when I lashed out at her ribs.

Her eyes narrowed. "Not bad," she said in a tone of faint approval. "You need work, but I can make something out of that."

I grunted. "A little warning next time?"

A small smirk crossed her face. "Now what would the point of that be?"

Cyril gave a groan. "And now I'm behind…" he grumbled.

I turned. "How about I help you with this until you're back on schedule, and then we can discuss if there's anything you'd like me to teach you?" I offered.

Cyril shuffled a little.

"It is my fault you lost time," I reminded him, leaning out of the way of another jab from Shamir.

He nodded slowly. "Okay." Cyril turned to Shamir. "Can I borrow him for a little bit?"

The knight paused. "Sure," she said flatly. She looked to me. "I'll be seeing you."

As she turned to walk off, I cleared my throat.

She paused.

"Please use padded arrows if you're going to use the bow on your back," I said clearly. "I'd rather not risk them getting deflected into someone and causing real harm."

Shamir turned her head and smirked. "I can cut you that much slack," she said with some amusement. Then she kept walking.

Cyril clapped his hands. "Alright, let's get to fertilizing these plants," he said firmly.

I turned back to him and smiled. "And you can tell me more about your life here while we work," I said cheerfully.

He shrugged, but didn't frown. "It's nothing special, but if you insist," he said easily.
____________________________________________________________________________

"So you just… left the guy on the ground?" Annette said with a giggle.

I nodded as I set the teacups out. It was the ninth of Harpstring, and Sylvain had told me it was her birthday. Good man.

"Word spreads fast," I said wryly.

"I mean, it serves him right. I heard that Hilda wrote her brother, and he's going to recall that jerk and put him through basic training all over again. He'll be doing squire duties for months," Annette said in a merry tone. She picked her cup up and smelled the tea. "Oooh! Sweet-Apple!"

I grinned. "It's one of my favorites too, so it seemed like a good idea."

Annette took a sip, then set the cup down and clapped her hands. "This is already great," she said happily. She sighed a little. "It's too bad Mercie couldn't make it."

"Any reason why?" I asked as I picked up a pastry.

"She said she was doing something for a surprise," Annette replied. She smiled. "I'm glad Professor Hanneman gave us the mission off. And that Edelgard and Hubert were nice enough to volunteer as substitutes!"

Hm. "Edelgard… has she been spending much time with Dimitri lately?" I pondered aloud.

Annette nodded. "Some, yes. I've seen them sparring, talking - they seem to be getting on well." Her eyes lowered. "Some of the other nobles… they're worried."

I frowned. "About?"

"Marriage, I guess. They see Edelgard wooing His Highness as a soft power move to bring Faerghus back under the Empire's control." Annette frowned. "I think it's dumb! Whatever their connection, it's obvious Edelgard means a lot to His Highness! He was rarely happy, but since she started talking to him again, his smiles are more genuine and…" she trailed off.

I took a sip of tea. "Interesting. Let me guess, these are the same nobles that give Dedue a hard time?"

Annette blinked at me. "Um?"

"I haven't been given the 'man of Duscur' speech, but Byleth has. More than once." I gave a cold smile. "It's interesting. I've spoken to him once outside of class, and he was nothing but polite, helpful, and courteous. A true gentleman."

"Right? He's so nice, and looks out for everyone. He's devoted to His Highness, and…" Annette sighed. "It's not fair."

I nodded. "I agree."

"But His Highness has seemed a little happier lately, and part of that's to do with Edelgard. But he's also started opening up with us, too." Annette took a drink of tea. "I didn't know he was holding so much back," she mused.

"Mm. So how are you doing?"

Annette perked up. "Well, I'm doing pretty well! I'm looking forward to your Faith seminar, whenever that is."

I coughed. "It's probably going to be another presence concealment one this week. I need Dedue and Petra's help, and they're both busy. I'll see if I can get them to clear a week in their schedule by Blue Sea Moon at the latest," I said with an awkward smile.

"I guess that's for the best. After all, this is all theory-based and you need to know concrete facts about their religions to build the theory," Annette said thoughtfully. "Still, maybe you could do some spellcrafting work?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "Maybe. Honestly, I didn't think I'd get this far," I admitted. "I'm really winging this adjunct thing."

"Maybe you should have been a student then," Annette said with a smile. "Then you could be in the Eagles with Dorothea~!"

I flushed. "Really!?"

Annette giggled. "Sorry, sorry! You two are really cute, though. Have you picked a new place to go for a date?"

"Maybe? I don't know much about the places in town…"

"Sylvain goes on dates all the time, I bet he'd tell you," Annette said encouragingly. "And he's even here! Though I couldn't say why…" she trailed off.

I shook my head. "I'll think about that. Anyways, what sort of spellcraft do you think I should cover? Reason? Faith? Crossing between?" I tapped the table. "Since it's your birthday and I need to update the bulletin board tonight, I'll let you pick."

Annette clapped her hands. "Yay! Okay, so I'm good at Reason… so that?"

I nodded. "Alright. Honestly, it's probably necessary before the Faith seminar, given some of the material I need to cover."

"How so?" Annette picked up a pastry.

"Well, it's a unified theory of magic that I've had for a while. You know how the glyphs are a little less hard-and-fast for Faith than Reason? That's because in Reason magic, the matrices and formulae take the place of the god, self, or ideal that fuels most Faith magic. It's sort of believing in there being some sort of order in the world, and reinforcing that with a set of strictures that we can interpret. It takes what we know, and converts it into the language of magic to tinker with the fabric of the universe," I said conversationally.

Annette's eyes widened as I sipped my tea.

"It's a theory, but one I'd like to test - either myself or to pass off to someone." And it's not like Macuil didn't drill it into my head in his spellcrafting lessons from over a thousand years ago, no sir. Or that he picked it back up almost immediately when I found him in Sreng.

Emyth'solan? You're alive? Yes, here's a hug, but compose a-

Ahem.

"That makes so much sense…" Annette whispered.

"Yeah, Reason and Faith are two sides of the same coin. Faith is great for people who can put their faith in something outside of 'logic', while Reason is for people who are more scientific-minded. Though that does leave a fair few people out in the cold for magic, I'll admit…" I trailed off.

Annette hummed. "And it opens a lot of doors for people who are proficient in both, like Mercie or Lysithea."

"Don't you practice Faith magic?" I asked.

Annette blushed. "I'm good at it, but I really shine at wind sorcery for combat. I've managed to cobble together Nosferatu, but I'm having trouble getting past that."

"Sounds like something Mercedes could help with," I offered.

"Oh, she has! She and I study together often enough," Annette said cheerfully. She settled down. "Still though, that's… revolutionary," she said with a thoughtful gaze.

Yep. And according to Macuil, it was a cornerstone of Agarthan tech that Mum shared with them, but here we are because big weapons and my family getting genocided by a pack of bandit patsies. So all of that was lost!

Faaaaaaantastic.

At least Garreg Mach had indoor plumbing. Somehow.

"Are you okay?" Annette asked, quickly derailing my train of thought.

I shook my head. "Just… ruminating. Apen was the one who came up with the theory," I confessed. "Apparently he was on the verge of some major breakthroughs, but then what happened to our family… happened… and he decided to hermit up out in Sreng."

Annette made a small sound. "I heard about that," she said softly. "I guess that's something you never really move past. I mean, my father is still alive, somewhere, and I…" she trailed off. "Sorry, I shouldn't compare that," she said quickly.

I shook my head. "It's fine. Playing one-up on misery is both exhausting and fruitless. Everyone gets hurt, and life is hard enough without trying to… well, you get the idea," I said with a humorless chuckle.

Annette nodded. "Yeah. Still…"

"So… your father was absent?" I asked. "That's. I mean, you're a noble, so…?"

Annette straightened up. "Yes. He's a knight named Gustave. I don't know what he's going by now, but he has the same hair as me, but older, obviously." Her eyes gleamed. "He was a knight of Faerghus for many years, but the last I heard he left to join the Church after the Tragedy."

I sighed. "So much comes back to that. Ashe's foster brother, Dimitri's family, Felix's brother who Ingrid was to marry, Dedue's country… honestly, the only two of you guys who weren't touched by that are Sylvain and Mercedes. Even then, they had to live in the environment that resulted from that."

"Yeah. I'm hoping that I'll find my father here, and get some answers," Annette said softly.

I smiled. "I'll keep an eye out. Actually…" My smile turned into a pointed grin.

"What are you thinking?" Annette asked, tone gaining an edge of amusement. "That looks like one of Sylvain's smiles when he's planning something that Dimitri would scold him for."

"So the information is being spread gradually, but… the reason Rhea has been so accommodating to Byleth, Jeralt, and myself? She's my sister," I said, still grinning.

Annette's eyes widened. "What!?" she squeaked.

"Yeah. With the black hats after me, she figured her reputation couldn't paint a larger target on my back than my own problems already have," I said with a shrug. "But that's not the important part. The important part is this: if your father is a knight…"

Her mouth formed an 'o'.

"My sister's your father's boss. And that means if I give her the big round eyes long enough, she'll call him in for a station at the monastery. After that…" I trailed off with a snicker.

"Mith, that's… oh my gosh, that's such an abuse of power-" Annette stammered.

I blinked at her. "I mean, it's definitely a form of nepotism, I guess. But unless he's actively on a mission, I fail to see how it'd hurt anyone?"

Annette stared at me. "You're going to do this," she said faintly.

"Yeah?"

"You're really… this is…" she shook her head. "Wow. After all these years… I'm going to see my father again?" She let out an incredulous laugh. "I. I don't know what to say."

I grinned. "Happy birthday!"

Annette broke down in helpless giggles. "Thank you so much!"

"You're welco- wait, wait, wait!"

Somehow I managed to keep her from landing in the pastries when she flung herself at me in a tackle-hug.

The teapot was a lost cause as soon as it hit the cobblestones, though.

"Oh no! I'm sorryyyy!"
____________________________________________________________________________

Byleth crossed her legs as she sat in on the seminar. Fortunately, the Lions had returned in time for their temporary members to attend - Hubert in particular wouldn't have wanted to miss it, from what she knew of him.

Ultimately, it seemed that primarily mages were attending the Reason seminar - even Professor Hanneman had decided to sit in with her, and he had a sheaf of paper and quill ready to take notes.

"How exciting," he said with a glint in his eye. "I'm curious as to what his topic will be."

Byleth cast an eye over the students in attendance.

Lysithea sat with Annette, and the two of them were engaged in lively discussion. Marianne was next to Mercedes, and the quieter girl seemed to be responding well to the Blue Lions' resident healer. Linhardt had taken a seat at the front, to her surprise, and was pointedly ignoring Hubert's curious glares.

Two tables caught her by surprise, though.

One was Lorenz sitting with Claude. The two had an… acrimonious relationship, to put it mildly. However, Lorenz had a positive view of Mith, and Claude had latched onto him as effectively a ninth Deer, so the two of them seemed to have set aside their bickering for the moment. Claude had made a point that with all of Mith's 'esoteric knowledge' (his words, not hers), missing a seminar would be a waste regardless of how well he could apply it.

The last table was the clincher: Dorothea and Sylvain. From what Byleth recalled, Sylvain was aspiring to be a cavalry specialist, and learning Reason magic was only viable for a particular type of knight. Dorothea she wasn't surprised to see, but sitting near Sylvain willingly wasn't expected.

"Quite a few students from all three houses," Byleth said aloud.

"Indeed. In the case of the Eagles, I'm unsurprised by who turned up for this. For your House, Lorenz went to the College of Sorcery in Fhirdiad if I recall? And Lysithea has always shown aptitude with magic. Claude is an outlier, but he may be hoping to find the keys to replicating the power of illusion," Hanneman mused.

"I would not be surprised," Byleth said wryly. "I expected Mercedes and Annette, but Sylvain? Isn't he training with the lance and as a cavalry combatant?"

Hanneman gave Byleth a brief glance as Mith wandered towards the front of the room. "I believe Sylvain Gautier has more facets than most account for. Now, he hasn't confided them in me, but I've noticed he has a talent for unravelling formulae and at Reason magic in general. He does not act on this talent, but it is there." The scholar's tone was faintly disapproving.

"Hm. If he doesn't use it, then why is he here?" Byleth mused.

Sothis leaned forward, unseen by the rest of the room, scrutinizing the students. "How interesting," she commented.

"Okay! So, this is going to lay the groundwork for the Faith seminar, which I'll… work on later," Mith said with a nervous chuckle. "The theories I'm sharing with you today were pioneered by my older brother Apen. If you've had the misfortune to meet him, you've likely been told to 'get out of his way' or been glared at. If you've had the greater misfortune to attract his attention, then I cannot promise your organs will be returned," he said in a joking tone.

Hanneman chuckled. "An amusing jape," he said to Byleth.

Byleth wisely did not mention the time he got ahold of some Agarthans who tried to kidnap Mith for experiments. Apen was a terrifying individual, even to his allies at times.

"Right. So to begin, I need to outline the primary tenet of Reason magic: it is learned by study, namely by combining pre-established formulae to elicit results. By combining different matrices and equations, it is possible to enact glyphs to cause changes in the physical world," Mith said, waving a hand around. "These components have been researched for centuries, creating the spread of spells available today - though most practicioners focus on the combat suite, limited as it is."

"Well, of course. This is a military academy, what sort of spells would he have them learn? Housekeeping spells? Dust bunnies beware, for the mighty general shall unleash a dirt-gathering charm!" Sothis said in amusement.

Byleth watched as Mith's eyes flicked to Sothis for a moment before returning to the students.

"All of that said, I'm going to fill you in on a little secret: Faith and Reason magic are, at their core, the same. Today I'm going to explain Apen's Theory of Unified Magic." Mith's eyes glinted in the light.

The students immediately began to mutter amongst themselves, with a few exceptions.

Byleth noticed that Annette seemed wholly unsurprised, and Hubert merely narrowed his eyes in interest.

"Not to be a killjoy Little Teach, but how does that work? You just said that Reason spells are based in mathematics and science, rather than belief - and what you said when you were planning these seminars said that belief is what powers Faith spells," Claude said after the muttering died down.

"That's true. However, there are things to note. The most important is that Faith is an older form of magic, and that Reason was compiled later. Second, the idea for formulae to explain magic is what gave rise to the branch in question. Mathematics and science quantify the world around us, using common observations to form a solid, unmoving picture. They bring order from chaos, and grant a measure of control over the world." Mith crossed his arms and smirked at Claude. "Now, stop me if you've heard this before, but the most important part of Faith magic…"

"Is something to believe in," Sylvain said quietly, his eyes wide. "Like facts and figures. The sciences and mathematics are so widely accepted as ways to interpret the world that…"

Lysithea slammed her hands on the table in front of her as she leapt up. "Of course! The formulae form an interpretation of the natural world and changes the caster wishes to see, and the belief in them is what facilitates the spells! Therefore, they are one and the same! The only difference is what the source of belief is!" Her eyes shone in excitement.

"And yet, that does not explain how Faith is the same," Hubert demurred. "Using the established standards as a belief catalyst holds, but they are concrete. Such things as the Goddess are not, and the power of Faith is commonly accepted to be bestowed, rather than intrinsic."

Mith looked to Linhardt, whose eyes were widening. "Want to take a crack at it?" he offered.

Byleth leaned forward, curious.

"Reason magic taxes the caster, as does Faith. Magic is personal, but we lack the ability to channel it without an external focus because believing ourselves capable of such wonders goes against common sense. To that end, belief in a formula, spirit, or higher being is all academic." Linhardt's eyes narrowed. "Magic comes from us, doesn't it?"

"Magic as a whole comes from the world," Mith explained. "When casting, the first reservoir tapped is the self, regardless of focus. However, there are mystically active materials and places that make casting easier, and can shoulder the burden of energy."

"Like how magic weapons are made of Arcane Crystals and other materials?" Annette asked.

"Yes. Levin Swords and the like are clearly magic, and their strength varies with the wielder - but using them is not as immediately draining as casting a spell. However, this wears on the material and creates a demand for maintenance," Mith said with a nod to Annette.

"And then there are rods and staves that enhance casting," Lorenz said with an intent gaze. "Is it an intrinsic property that permits them to levy some of the burden, or the faith of the caster?"

"Both," Mith replied. "The materials used to craft rods are active, and when combined with the caster's intent, they increase the power of the spells without inflicting additional drain on the person using them."

"So… what sorts of things could be used for magic besides the usual?" Dorothea asked, piping up. "Could… singing be used?"

"I believe so, depending on the desired effect. There are records of those who use dance to refresh their allies and bolster their abilities, and records of those who do the same with song. Some songs have been components in healing magic abroad," Mith said with a gesture to Dorothea. "It depends on the type of song used and the effect desired. You're more likely to bolster spirits with operatic singing than a quiet hymn, and the inverse is true for healing and rest."

The diva assumed a look of contemplation. "I see…"

Byleth was familiar with all this, of course, but seeing the ideas take root among the mages in the student body was interesting to watch.

Hanneman had already begun his third page of notes, etching diagrams in the margins. "This is fascinating! I must consult Apen on this theory. While Mith clearly has a grasp of it, Apen is a true researcher, and must have insights well beyond what we're learning today, "he said excitedly.

Marianne fidgeted. "If… if all magic is the same… what does that mean about the Goddess?" she asked quietly.

Mith turned to her. "Well, it means that you believe in her so strongly that your magic emulates your vision of her," he said. "I can confirm the Goddess did, at one point, walk the world. In the distant past, Fodlan was consumed by a war that was so severe the land was destroyed and most of humankind in the country was wiped out. It took her many centuries to set things right with the power of her magic, so great was the damage," Mith explained.

Mercedes nodded her head. "So what did she use?" she asked quietly.

"Nothing. The Goddess isn't human, and neither she nor her children needed a focus for magics that were intrinsic to them. Ones outside their wheelhouse? Sure, they had to use some sort of foci to ease the burden. But things pertaining to them were as natural as breathing," Mith explained.

"I see. So with her power over time, did she simply revert the damage?" Annette asked.

Byleth noticed Sothis twitch, her gaze growing distant. Others in the class took notice of Annette's comment and their own attention sharpened.

"No, the weapons used were catastrophic. Fighting time's flow over that area would have been a fool's errand. Therefore, she accelerated it, and let the land heal its wounds in a tenth of the time it would have taken otherwise," Mith said firmly.

Byleth looked to Sothis, who was now lost in thought. The girlish-looking spirit gazed downward, brow furrowed.

"So back to the seminar," Claude said, eyes glinting. "Assuming we connect to the proper symbolism, we can make our own spells?"

Mith held up a hand and tilted it back and forth. "Somewhat. Spellcraft includes a great amount of trial and error, and many layers of safeguards to minimize risk. If you want to do so, please find a sufficiently experienced mage to help you with the preparations and design."

Byleth had a feeling that Mith would be in great demand, given the glances the students were giving him.

Thankfully, she had made her own spells years ago, and they still held up.

She scanned the room, and narrowed her eyes as she caught sight of Marianne.

Mac stood to the quiet girl's side, tilting his head inquisitively at her soft words. He tolerated her gentle scratching to the back of his head, gazing directly at her.

Byleth noted it and decided to warn Mith later that Macuil seemed to have taken a shine to her shiest Deer. It could go any number of ways, but she privately doubted the acerbic academic would approach her outside of his bird-form.

Judging by the volume of notes Hanneman was taking, Apen might find his lab invaded and staked out, thus making the Crest Scholar the recipient of that dubious honor.

Byleth tuned out the rest of the seminar, keeping an eye on the lecturer, students, and Sothis.

Though she had to admit, the padded arrows that Mith kept casually avoiding were a minor cause for concern.
____________________________________________________________________________

Edelgard sat across from me as Hubert poured the tea for us. "So Hubert said you mentioned that the weapons used in the Agarthan conflict were what caused the devastation?" she asked in a casual tone.

I nodded.

"Interesting. What did Seiros use that caused such destruction, I wonder?" Edelgard mused.

I shook my head. "Though Seiros eradicated all of their culture she could reach, she didn't do that damage. Dragonfire was her primary weapon, and it managed to destroy them all - or so everyone thought. Their enclaves defended them from the fallout of their own weapons, but Seiros had enough power then to put an end to them regardless. It didn't help that they used most of what they had manufactured in the initial barrage, and their construction sites were among the first targets."

"Then the primary reason Fodlan needed the Goddess to rejuvenate it was the acts of the Agarthans," Hubert mused. "An interesting theory. Unfortunately, without proof…" he trailed off.

I shrugged. "Ailell exists. Once, all of Fodlan looked like that."

"But how can we know for sure? And if the Agarthans had such weaponry then…" Edelgard trailed off.

I sighed. "Right. Let's address the behemoth in the room, shall we?"

She gazed politely at me. "It would seem that speaking in circles is doing us little good. Speak as plainly as you like."

Hubert's visible eye sharpened.

"The remnants of Agartha have been chasing me for the past eight or so years of my life. The weapons will destroy what they hit, but they are precise to a fault - the trajectory has to be coordinated well ahead of time, by a few hours at least. That said, their factories are gone, as is the knowledge that let them create the weapons in the first place." I finished my tea. "They will only use their stock sparingly, and likely for a target like Rhea. I don't know why they focus on me so much, aside from my vulnerability in comparison, but they're not going to launch the javelins unless Rhea leaves Garreg Mach or a suitably important target presents itself. A chance to crush their enemy entirely with a few shots. So you won't see the damage they can do firsthand unless someone does something drastic enough to warrant that level of response."

Edelgard's eyes lowered. "I see. So we cannot ascertain the existence of these weapons because they will not use them outside of the most dire emergency or dearest target. Further, they will only deploy when they are certain to hit." She exhaled. "How vexing."

I shrugged helplessly. "I wish I had proof that would satisfy you, but…"

"I believe that you think you speak truth," Hubert said after a moment. "Nothing in your bearing shows a lie, and I cannot sense you using magic. However, as you said - let us dispense with pleasantries. We all know what these people are capable of in terms of Crest experimentation, so I am inclined to at least accept your tale of the Heroes' Relics."

Edelgard nodded. "As am I. Tell me, what other capabilities of theirs can you divulge?"

I sighed and leaned back. "I know that Tomas is long dead, and Solon replaced him," I said flatly.

Both of the others went still.

"If you are aware, why have you not reported him? Or dealt with him yourself?" Hubert asked silkily.

"Because Tomas watches him and tells me what he plots. He's eyeing Remire for something, and is collecting information on Flayn. Nothing too concrete, but there are plans."

Edelgard exchanged a glance with Hubert. "We were aware of the latter," she admitted. "Do you know why?"

I sighed. "Yes. She and I are… we're full-blooded Nabateans. Our Crests can be extracted and reproduced." I met Edelgard's gaze. "They intend to torture my cousin. The instant he makes a move…" I said warningly.

Edelgard leaned back. "I see. Tell me, do you believe us behind your ambush during the Mock Battle?" she asked after a few moments.

I shook my head. "No."

"How quick to answer," Hubert murmured. "How can you be sure?"

"Because to you I'm still useful, and I haven't directly interfered with your plans," I said simply. "Also, at least in Edelgard's case, you bear enough affectionate sentiment towards me that you won't move against me unless it's needed."

Edelgard's polite mask cracked into a wry smile. "Astute. And correct. I was… displeased with the incursion and made my position clear." Her eyes narrowed as her smile faded. "Thales was quite insistent that you die and your body be turned over to him for study. I told him I would consider it."

"Which means no, for now," Hubert said with dark amusement.

"Though it begs the question… why did you conceal your relation to Rhea from me?" Edelgard said quietly.

I didn't say anything for a moment.

The silence was heavy.

"If I had told you that I was related to her, would you have agreed to meet me in the first place?" I said finally.

"Perhaps. It would have lent credence to your theory that the Church need not be a casualty in what must happen to save Fodlan," Edelgard replied.

"I'm not part of the Church. I wasn't raised in it, and most of my knowledge contradicts its scriptures. Rhea and I were separated a long time ago, and while I love my sister I can't agree with all of her decisions. For all of her strengths, she was never meant to lead. That role should have fallen to Seteth. Or more ideally, one of my other sisters - who are now dead." I stared the heir to the Adrestian Empire in the eye. "Rhea is one woman. She's flawed. That said, she has the best of intentions. If I can arrange things just so, I can convince her that the Crest system does more harm than good."

Edelgard leaned forward, placing her chin in her hand. "You truly believe this. What is it you seek here? What do you stand to gain?"

Hubert sipped his coffee, watching me closely.

"It's like I said before. You aren't the villains of this piece. Neither is Rhea." I crossed my arms. "None of us have to die at the others' hand if we can just talk and understand what's going on."

"Except Those Who Slither in the Dark?" Hubert queried with dry amusement.

I smirked. "Exactly."

Edelgard's eyes lowered. "I've spoken with Dimitri. He remembers my time in Faerghus."

I turned my attention back to her.

"He remembers giving me the dagger, remembers…" She trailed off. "He's lost enough. I want him away from this, but. If it comes to it…"

I sighed. "Again, I gave you the solution. Deepen your bond with him, and he will stand against the dark with you."

"And if I do so, and I must stand against the church? Tear his heart from his chest? Sever that bond?" Edelgard asked.

"Then our paths diverge," I said sadly. "I don't want that."

"Nor do I." Edelgard broke our gaze.

"If I may interject," Hubert said smoothly, "we may be considering the worst outcome prematurely."

Edelgard and I stared at him.

"Do not be so shocked. The Church has ample pull. Claude's position is tentative in Leicester, but if you believe his path would align with Lady Edelgard's, soft power moves could ensure the houses closer to our border would follow his line. Dimitri will one day have ultimate authority in Faerghus. You yourself have Claude's friendship. Dimitri cares deeply for both of you." Hubert smiled humorlessly. "This alliance has gone from the realm of theory to possibility." He turned to me. "This all rests on you, however. You will need to nurture the idea that the Church's doctrines must change and bend the Archbishop's ear."

"That would take time we do not have," Edelgard said, closing her eyes.

"What is the factor limiting the time available?" I asked. "Lysithea is experiencing a reduced lifespan, but-"

"I do not suffer that side effect. At least, not to that extent. Assuming care is taken for my health, I have forty years remaining. Possibly even more," Edelgard said simply. "It is difficult to gauge, but that is the current estimate. No, I speak of the suffering of those under the Crest system and the corruption of the Adrestian nobility - as well as nobility in general."

I hummed. "Would the deadline be pushed back further if more problems were to be removed?" I asked.

Hubert chuckled darkly. "And your first instinct is to assassinate major players. Sadly, while that is of aid, that does not account for numerous minor houses that visit indignities upon their children and commoners alike."

"It could help, though," Edelgard admitted. "But ultimately…"

I rubbed my face. "Right. I have stuff to talk to Claude about, I guess. And I'll see what support I can get from my family."

Edelgard inclined her head. "I wish you luck. In the meantime, I will continue my own investigations."

I stood, pushing the chair in behind me, and left the room.

Hubert followed.

After we reached the outside of the building, I stepped to the side.

He came to a halt beside me.

"Your thoughts?" I asked.

"I believe your idea has merit. It would prevent unnecessary bloodshed and pain, which certainly appeal to Lady Edelgard. However, she counsels action, and so it will take more to dissuade her from her course. That said, I believe that she is more swayed by your words than she let on. If you can convince at least Claude…" Hubert's gaze grew distant. "She is also intrigued by your approach to the Gaspard situation."

I gave Hubert a curious look.

"Do not misunderstand. I will always follow Lady Edelgard, and defer to her will. I will be her hand in the dark to do what must be done. However, you are a valuable enough asset to incorporate into our goals." He looked me in the eye. "If your intent is to create a new path to forge alongside us, you have made progress - or so she believes. To that end, do not despair."

I let out a long exhale as Hubert walked back inside. "I appreciate that. Not sure why you decided to let me know, but thanks."

Hubert smirked. "You have proven to be a wealth of information at the very least, and despise our common enemy as much as we. I see no reason not to cultivate this association. At worst, we will simply aim each other at the slithering blackguards before killing each other, and that would suffice." He stopped walking. "Though it would be a pleasant surprise if we managed to ally. I believe we could do much for the Empire, you and I. To say nothing of the rest of Fodlan."

I grinned. "Well, I can agree on that at least. Here's hoping I can make a good enough case to Edelgard that she'll think I'm prettier than Thales."

Hubert gave a low, malevolent chuckle as he continued to wander inside.
____________________________________________________________________________

"Evening Sir! Nothing to report!" the gatekeeper said cheerfully. "Things are pretty quiet. I heard that the Lions cleared out a Bandit camp in Zanado, remnants of the ones that attacked the House Leaders. They had no leadership, so it was quick and simple."

I smiled at him a little. "Thank you," I said.

He saluted with a wide smile in return, and I gave him a nod as I walked further into the monastery. I'd gotten hold of some ingredients at market and had every intention of fixing dinner for myself and one or two others.

I wandered in a daze until I made my way into the kitchen and began setting up to prepare the food.

The lull of cooking distracted me for a good while, but as I plated the food, it too came to an end.

I needed a distraction. Someone to talk to, something to fix…

I stepped into the dining hall, two plates in hand, and scanned the room.

Dorothea walked in, brushing a lock of hair out of her face, and caught my eye.

I lifted a plate, and she smiled.

A few minutes later, after telling the cook to give what was left out, I seated myself across from Dorothea.

"Well that was an interesting lecture," she said with a smile. "I talked a little about it with Manuela, and she seemed intrigued by it. Professor Hanneman apparently got caught by Apen's wards, but he's fine."

I huffed out a laugh. "Good. Hopefully Apen takes it easy on him."

Dorothea raised an eyebrow. "Will he?"

"Maybe?" I offered.

She cut a piece of the pheasant and ate it. "Hm. Not bad," she said. "It's not my favorite dish, but I like it."

"Guess that means I made it well," I said.

"You did," she said with a smile.

"Hel-lo there," a cheery voice commented. I rocked a little to the side as they dropped themselves in the chair next to me with a heavy thump.
Sylvain slung his arm around my shoulder. "Bud, you've gotta tell me when you cook! This is amazing," he said with a wide grin.

Dorothea giggled. "Decided to join us? What about your legion of adoring ladies?" she said teasingly.

Sylvain held his free hand palm-up. "Alas, but they will have to do without my presence," he said dramatically.

"Oh? Got bored of leading them on?" she asked.

"Well, I hate seeing girls cry, and someone let me know I was doing more harm than good," Sylvain replied. "What about you? Still hunting for the man of your dreams?"

I felt my eyes widen as they traded barbs. "...are you both okay?" I asked.

Dorothea smiled. "I'm fine."

"Hey, I'm always good," Sylvain said with a cocky grin.

I sighed. "...did you guys fight or something? Because that didn't sound like any banter I've taken part in." I frowned. "And Byleth and I would go at it. I know banter."

"You mean you'd say something you thought was witty, and I'd stare?" Byleth said from behind me.

"Exactly!" I chirped.

I felt my eyes widen as her hand landed on my head and ruffled my hair.

Byleth walked around and sat next to Dorothea, face expressionless.

"Why Professor, that was almost playful," Dorothea said teasingly.

"I almost had a whole emotion right there," Byleth said dryly.

Sylvain coughed. "So… to explain," he said, tone slightly guilty. "Well…"

"He asked if I was intending to take advantage of you," Dorothea said sweetly.

I blinked. "Why?"

"Why what? Why would she take advantage of you, why would he ask…?" Byleth asked.

"The former. Sylvain… anyways," I said, shaking my head. Didn't need that kind of confusion right now.

Especially when he gave great hugs and had nice cologne.

...I might have a small weakness for people who wore scents.

"Heh! I guess your impression of me really turned around if you're not asking why I'd come to your defense," Sylvain teased.

"And he knows well enough to know he doesn't need defending from me," Dorothea replied in her too-sweet tone.

"And what about your little rebuttal? Hm, Dorothea?" Sylvain asked pleasantly.

I stared at Byleth.

She stared back.

"Well, it's a valid question," Dorothea said primly. "It's not like you don't have a record."

"With women," Sylvain stressed. "Okay, I'll admit that my relationships don't often work out well, but I'm good to my friends." The arm on my shoulder turned into a one-armed hug that landed my head on his collarbone. "Right? You and I get along fine now," he said, voice reverberating in my ear.

I felt my cheeks go pink. "We're good," I said, somehow managing to keep my voice even.

Dorothea gave me a pitying look. Then she turned her gaze on Sylvain. "I suppose," she said, smiling again.

A thought ran across my mind, and in true tired-me fashion, it leapt out of my mouth without warning.

"Hey Sylvain. Why didn't you go to Zanado with the Lions?" I asked.

To his credit, he didn't shove me away.

Byleth blinked slowly. "To be honest, I was also curious. Annette and Mercedes I understood, given it was Annette's birthday during the mission and Mercedes is her dearest friend. Last I checked however, you weren't the type to shirk missions."

"I had my reasons," Sylvain said easily. His smile was carefully blank.

"Sorry," I said softly, sitting up.

Sylvain gave me a worried look.

"Didn't mean to upset you," I elaborated.

His gaze softened. "Hey, you did no such thing," he said with a squeeze to my shoulder. He dropped his arm and gave a wink. "That said, I probably ought to eat this delicious food you made before it gets cold."

The table was quiet for a few minutes as we ate.

Dorothea sighed. "Well… I'll go first then. Sylvain, I apologize for insulting you. Your reputation made me think that your interest in Mith's well-being was for… less than pure reasons. The ladies mentioned something to the effect of you being-"

"Insatiable?" Sylvain said dryly.

Byleth blinked at him.

"In all honesty, I've been very careful with every girl I've brought back here. It rarely gets beyond kissing, and even then I don't go below the belt. One bastard, and then I never hear the end of it. That said, dating's fun and I fully intend to keep doing it - while letting them know it's not long-term," he said with a glance at me.

I shrugged. "That's fine. I was going to date around until I figured out 'oh hey, flirting in your head is easy, flirting in real life turns you into a nervous wreck'. So… yeah," I said, rubbing the back of my head.

"It's adorable," Dorothea said with a small smile. "And for the record, yours was still the best date I've been on in weeks. We should do it again sometime," she offered with a wink.

"Hey, if you want tips, I'll help you practice," Sylvain offered with a hand on my shoulder.

Dorothea immediately dissolved into giggles as Byleth's eyes zeroed in on Sylvain.

"Uh…?" he said hesitantly.

"I think," Byleth said, tension entering her voice, "that should be taken under advisement." She turned to me. "No."

I opened my mouth.

"You're bad enough as is," she said firmly.

Sylvain made a disappointed noise, then leaned over.

"My room, after lights out," he whispered.

My face felt like it was on fire.

"I heard that," Byleth intoned ominously.

"Besides, he'd much rather visit me," Dorothea said, rubbing her ankle against mine.

I made a noise like a dying cat in the back of my throat.

Sylvain laughed. "Hey! Well, I can't compete with that," he said ruefully, smile reaching his eyes.

"Wanna bet?" Sothis muttered as she hung over Byleth's shoulder.

She gave me an innocent look as I glared daggers at her.

"Ghost commentary?" Dorothea asked, following my stare.

"Yes," I said tartly.

Sylvain gave a wary glance in Sothis' direction. "You okay?" he asked.

I nodded. "I'll be fine." I laughed a little. "I'm glad you guys sat with me," I admitted. "I needed a distraction tonight."

Dorothea sighed. "I did as well. And… the company wasn't as bad as I feared for a moment," she said with a look at Sylvain.

"Uh-oh," Sylvain teased. "Careful Mith, I might have my hooks in her," he said with a wave of his hands.

Dorothea laughed. "Why Sylvain, that's the funniest joke you've had all night," she said.

"Ice cold," he groaned. The noble grinned. "I love it." He turned to me. "Joking aside, I'm not going after your girl," he said as he looped his arm around my ribs from behind.

Dorothea gave me a small, secret smile. "Well, clearly the best way to make him feel better is to pay him attention," she teased.

Sylvain shook his head. "Anyways," he said ruefully.

Byleth looked at me. "I'll want to speak to you soon about a few things," she said firmly.

I nodded.

"Oh! Seteth talked to Manuela, and she said she'd work with you on learning Silence for your personal project," Dorothea offered.

I perked up. "Really? Awesome!" I cheered.

The rest of the table laughed at my enthusiasm while Byleth and Sothis watched quietly.

I had a sinking feeling that my lecture earlier might have knocked something loose, and there'd be hell to pay.

But with Dorothea holding my hand and smiling affectionately, and Sylvain trying to feed me lines in my ear, I couldn't find it in myself to worry too much right then.
____________________________________________________________________________

Sylvain kicked himself for not going to spend time with Mith earlier. Now that the first blush of awkwardness was past, the adjunct was open with him and…

If he was honest, he wanted Mith to rely on him. The way he let his guard down made Sylvain feel happy and protective at the same time.

...he wasn't a replacement for Felix. Felix hadn't been like that - their friendship hadn't resembled that for years, if it ever had. Felix always had a strain of fierce independence, even when he was small and cute.

Even before Glenn passed away.

Of course, trying to mend that bridge backfired. Whatever language Mith had found to speak to Felix in, Sylvain couldn't speak a word of it.
An offer to go grab food, hang out, meet some girls - it utterly backfired. Maybe he should have couched it in training first or something, Sylvain didn't know.

'Insatiable'. Like Felix had managed to forget everything else about him. He wasn't mad at Felix, he knew it was how the other man protected himself, but it hurt.

...maybe he could talk to Felix again later, with a little backup.

Mith, please explain where I'm going wrong here.

Comparatively speaking, Mith was simple. A touch here, an honest smile there, and then the words started coming. He hadn't taken him up on his offer, but Sylvain knew it was a matter of time.

Then there was Dorothea. That… aggravated the situation. It wasn't like he had designs on Mith. There was no future of that kind for him there.
Sylvain was destined for a loveless marriage with some random noblewoman, not some girl who he managed to fall for - or guy.

Mith might have weird magic, but somehow Sylvain didn't see him bearing Crest children for the Gautier line (which was naturally the most important, thanks Father).

And he had to remind himself of that, that Mith would be better off with him watching his back as a friend and not…

Yeah.

This was fine. More than he deserved, probably.

As he got ready for bed, Sylvain sighed.

At least he had one friend who didn't ask him to change completely. Though…

Maybe if he worked a little harder, put some effort in, he'd be happier?

Mith.

Maybe he needed to step his game up.

He's shot? He's shot, fuck fuck fuck I don't know any kind of healing magic-

Maybe.
____________________________________________________________________________

Dorothea admired herself in her pocket mirror. Everything still as it was the day before, not a hair out of place.

Though she did wonder if Mith would even be concerned by the passing of years.

He certainly wasn't like the nobles back in Enbarr, and he was… sweet. Inexperienced.

Honestly, even without the plan he'd offered her she might have stuck with him for a while. Boys like that didn't last. They became bitter, jaded men. Like Sylvain.

Oh, he was handsome, charming, suave - and dangerous. He despised the women who fell for his charms, certain they were after him for his status. Dorothea recognized it because she felt the same about people who fell for her exterior alone.

She wouldn't let that happen to Mith. That said…

Sylvain's eyes when he looked at Mith held genuine affection, and if he didn't notice how he affected the younger man Dorothea would eat her hat.

Of course, she affected Mith the same way. Hopefully, he'd get a bit more comfortable with flirting.

She had time. Thanks to him, she had time. Even if she returned to the Mittelfrank Company, she would have been up against age, fame, and the requirements of the stage. Here at Garreg Mach, she could take her time. Even if she didn't find someone, she wouldn't…

She wouldn't go hungry. Wouldn't be out in the cold, searching for the thickest rag to wrap herself in. Wouldn't fear who might find her in the dark.
And the thing was, Mith didn't think she owed him. Though, he didn't know her situation, not really.

...maybe she could tell him. Somehow, Dorothea knew he wouldn't judge. Maybe then she could help him with his own hurts.

For a moment, she wondered.

"I think I'll ask him on another date," she decided. "Open up a little more, see if I can get to know him better."

After all, it wouldn't do to fall behind Sylvain of all people.

Though the two were rather cute together.

It'd be simpler if they could all...

Dorothea dismissed the thought. Mostly. Partially.

Well. There were always options.

She smiled at nothing in particular and set to get ready for bed. After all, she had another day of classes and training tomorrow.

For her future…

And that of someone she cared about.
 
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