the final flowerings of her ambition.

if she could have just done more…

all things are temporary, and he holds nothing against any of his comrades, and tries not to be so hard on himself. looking back, the fight seemed unwinnable. there were too many factors working against them.

he sits down beside veyle, despite her attempts to retreat from the rest of them. she took that rather hard. he does not presume to understand what factors within her life have influenced that. she is too soft, too compassionate.

It was reassuring to see you emoting so much, though the reason was quite upsetting.

They are waiting for you, so do not waste any more time here. Open your eyes.

On command, he did with a soft sigh. Byleth found himself sitting down on the floor, no more pain in his body or confusion in his mind. No horse, no weird outfit, no lance. Though the air still felt heavy, at least for a short moment they had been allowed back to reality. The professor rubbed his face with a gloved hand, scratching one eye before looking up at his companions.

Alive, all of them.

Not in the happiest mood, though.

And finally, the long haired girl. She seemed particularly upset by it all- Byleth wouldn’t blame her though. Unsure of what to say, he still chose to approach her. 

“The fact that you still chose to fight to the end despite being outnumbered and with low morale means more than any easy win ever could.” Then, he gently patted her shoulder. It was kind of awkward and not very natural, but the action was genuine regardless. “You’re brave. That’s good.”

all she could do now as a fell dragon was help the others out. though she wants to stay by knoll's side and make sure he's okay, she quickly rushes to the other emblem that remains her ally through all this. she allows for him a good strike, granting an opening with a quick distraction of her own lance before she retreats as byleth dives into the warlok's body.

but just as quickly as she had been by his side, byleth falls. her eyes widen in terror once more as she watches him crash and burn from the warlock's magic. "no! not you too!" she cries. another emblem gone because she couldn't protect them. pelleas who had tried to warn the professor of the danger suffers a similar fate, and all she can do is watch as he too loses his fight.

this was far too much like the nightmares she had about her other self returning and becoming completely alone again. her body trembles, tears beginning to form in her eyes. it was only her and knoll left. if she couldn't protect the emblems, how could she protect him?

what use was her fell dragon blood if she had not even the strength to fight for her allies and keep them safe? gripping her lance tight, she looks up at the closest target wtih a furious tear-ridden glare. "i won't let everyone be taken from me again!"

[ Blessed Lance heals Veyle 7/10HP for +1HP ; Veyle 8/10HP ] Veyle 8/10HP hits Dark Bishop 10/10HP with Blessed Lance [ Roll: 14 ; -2, Dark Bishop 8/10HP ]

the fell dragon in her takes over as she approaches the dark bishop, slashing downward across the illusion's stomach. a solid strike that matters little in the face of the dark bishop's wrath. she steps back in shock as apocalypse is prepared far too quickly for her to avoid.

Dark Bishop 8/10HP critically hits Veyle 8/10HP with Apocalypse [ Roll: 9 ; 5+1 =6, Veyle 2/10HP ] Lifetaker Activates! [ +3, Dark Bishop 10/10HP ] Veyle takes toxic poison damage! [-1, Veyle 1/10HP ] [Roll: 4] Leto remains hidden.

"augh!" veyle cries in pure pain as she falls to her knees, the magic hurting far more than most anything she's felt before. her blood pulses inside her, warning her of the weapon's might against her kind. a dragon-effective magic.

in the end, it's her fell blood that will destroy her. how cruelly fitting.

The enemies were moving once more, and with much more vigor than before. It was hard to keep track, though his eyes were still fixated on that damn warlock. Well, maybe that was his mistake.

“ Professor, watch out...! ”

"Pe-" That blue mage’s voice echoed, and Byleth turned his head to face him. Just in time to watch as the dark bishop’s magic engulfed the man in darkness. Byleth had little proper knowledge of reason magic, but he knew it was terrifying when used correctly- this was proof of it. Reality split and the mage’s figure was warped between space and time, almost looking as if he were suffocating for a moment. Then, gone.

Fell to the ground, motionless, with just enough strength to mutter something the professor couldn’t discern before fading. 

That was another student, literally from the same class as the last one.

Byleth was frozen in time for a moment, staring at Pelleas’ figure- something that Sothis herself noted as quite the odd response coming from the professor. He was used to seeing people die, and he knew that he had to keep fighting and moving even when a fellow merc was struck down. Fight first, grieve later.

But this wasn’t a merc, was it? This was some kid.

It was a kid. Byleth failed to save another kid.

Warlock attacks Byleth with Nova! Roll 1D20-4 = 2, miss!

He felt a blast of static rush not too far from his position, hitting the wall behind him and earning a flinch from the pegasus. The hairs on his head were rising, his clothes were crinkling from the electricity, the air was dense and heavy- and yet Byleth didn’t move.

Fiendish Blow activates! Warlock attacks Byleth with Nova! Roll 1D20-4 = 7, hit! Byleth HP= 0/10

The professor stepped down from the pegasus, his right boot hitting the ground first, as he intended to rush towards Pelleas. He had to do something- no way that kid was gone. Byleth knew how to take care of injuries, there had to be something he could do to help him- hell, be it CPR or any other type of resuscitation, Byleth refused to just stand there and watch any more of his students get taken out like that. 

Byleth was no longer a mercenary. He didn’t have to accept death as a fact anymore. It was why he accepted the position as a teacher, to change his own fate, to turn his back on the Ashen Demon and shed his skin as a sellsword so he could use his skills to help others instead.

His left boot hit the ground as the professor took his second step. One gloved back hand was extended towards the motionless figure of his student, a loud crack echoed in the cave- and the world went white.

when it does, he stiffens. it's not the most formidable beast he has ever seen, of course, and yet...

the girl nearby to him panics immediately, striking at it without a second thought. he had considered ignoring the creature for the time, preferring to strike at the mages before them before ganging up on the beast but the girl acts before he can react.

her strike misses, but he is already at her side. "again. let us strike before it vanishes."

Backup activates! Veyle assists! [-1, Leto 9/10HP]

her next attempt does not fail, as she swiftly lands a blow before the creature can react. knoll only hesitates a for a moment before raising his axe to strike.

Knoll 10/10HP attacks Leto 9/10HP with Venin Axe [Roll: 10; -2HP Leto 7/10HP]

think again of grado's gallant emperor, think of its generals. there is no heroism within knoll, but he attempts to play the part, if only to try and reassure the girl. his blow is not the most effective, but it lands and that is enough.

Leto has been inflicted with Minor Poison!

he braces himself for the counterattack and is not the least bit surprised as white magic washes over him.

Leto counters with Abraxas [Roll: 7; -3HP Knoll 7/10HP]

“We need t-” But then he leaned slightly to the side to look down and call out to his teammates, only to see the motionless body of one of them.

The blue haired prince one. Unconscious at best, dead at worst. And of course, it was that warlock guy’s fault.

Byleth was used to seeing people die, not only because it was his job but also because when you live as a mercenary you need to accept the fact that one day, not everyone from the band will return home. Depending on the mission, on how things go, someone’s gonna die and the world must go on afterwards. Grief was important, but it was an exploitable weakness. But this was different.

He wasn’t a mercenary here. He was a teacher, and that princely dude was one of his students. Byleth couldn’t care less if he was a royal or not, all that mattered was that he was a person under his wing and that as a professor it was Byleth’s role to guide, teach and protect him. Regardless of who that guy was, he was a person with a family and friends to go back to. And now he laid there, face down, unresponsive.

Cobalt pools shifted to the Warlock. The blue haired mage from his team- Pelleas or something, had managed to knock that thunder tome out of his hand.

Somehow Byleth didn’t even register the huge dragon-like thing that suddenly appeared and was now flying around. It was personal now, that warlock beat one of his students and he wasn’t going to let it go cheap. Even if he couldn’t kill him by himself, he’d drag that stupid mage on the floor. With a tug on the reins, the pegasus dove once more- and Byleth’s grip on the lance tightened as he decided to change plans. He spotted that white haired girl join in on his attack once more, her expression looking rather grim. Perhaps she knew the prince, perhaps she was just distressed by death, either way Byleth understood.

“I won’t miss. It’s fine.” Was how he chose to comfort her.

Backup activates! Veyle assists and attacks Warlock! -1HP Warlock HP= 6/10 Byleth attacks Warlock with Hit and Run! Roll 1D20+2= 12, hit! Warlock HP= 4/10 Warlock is broken and cannot counter! Byleth HP= 4/10

“That was one of the kids I needed to look after.” It was a quick bait and switch type of deal- instead of letting the blade drag and slash, the professor jabbed it forwards instead, aiming to pierce the warlock’s torso. He didn’t die, but the message was sent. "Bastard."

The professor glanced back for a moment, his eyes meeting Marth’s motionless form. Although his expression was blank, the tightening grip on his lance, the harsh intake of breath and thinning of his lips were enough to display what he felt.

As the pegasus prepared to take to the skies once more, the professor’s eyes reached the rest of his team. “Stay safe.”

he could take it as an opportunity to reflect on the late emperor, on general duessel. he does neither, instead opting to focus on what is in front of him.

knoll grits his teeth as pelleas speaks, and is relieved for the break of combat to cut through the chatter. he has never understood the need to speak just to fill silence.

the figures appear before them, three of them that he can see. he suspects they will not be all they face, as three figures in the near distance would not a challenge pose, even with the unfamiliarity of new weapons and tactics.

he waits for a moment, testing the weight of the axe in his hand. again, he brushes away thoughts of grado's warriors. there is a task ahead of him. everyone seems to converge upon the bishop, and so knoll joins in.

Backup activates! Marth assists! [-1, Bishop 0.5/10HP] Veyle assists! Miracle activates! [-1, Bishop 0.5/10HP]

knoll watches two of his companions strike before he can even raise his weapon. their speed, impressive. their strength, almost enough. he can finish this one off. opportunistic thing, knoll.

he makes his own attack, striking as hard as he can !

Knoll 10/10HP crits Bishop 0.5/10HP with Venin Axe [Roll: 18; -4, Bishop 0/10HP]

the illusory bishop cracks hard against the wall, shaking it. knoll flinches back, unused to possessing strength like this.

Bishop has been defeated! Cavern sustains damage! [-1, Cavern 6/10HP] [Roll: 3] Leto remains hidden.

he looks at the two remaining figures and grimaces, wishing it would be as simple as shrinking back behind his the shield in his hands.

Growing conscious of his own body, cobalt eyes fixated on a pair of gray ears and a silver mane right in front of him. Or rather, under him. He rode a horse- a pegasus, to be more precise, even though the animal itself felt more like a dreamy recollection of what a pegasus should be than a living, breathing, real physical equine. As if adding to the strangeness of it all, instead of a blade’s weight on his grip was a thin, long lance.

Well, that kind of sucks, he thought. Although Byleth knew how to use a lance, it was far from his specialty.

And next, those around him. Presences that felt very much real despite their current predicament and familiar faces, but that Byleth couldn’t exactly name yet. There was a girl with an impossibly long black and white hair that he remembered seeing with the clergy sometimes, a blue prince that was pretty good with swords, another blue haired guy except this one was a mage that Byleth didn’t see too often, and finally another mage but with purple hair and Byleth also doesn’t remember seeing too many times.

But despite this, he knew he could trust them. If he could trust himself and whatever this horse-shaped thing was, though…

Before he could think about it any longer however, the ‘horse’ below him jolted and they were suddenly airborne as a battle broke out. Trying to keep himself balanced on the saddle, the teacher looked down as his teammates fought things that seemed to be of the same nature as the odd pegasus- people, but more like a vague idea of people than a physical real body. Kind of creepy.

“They hit and hurt though.” That’s enough of a reason for him to hesitatingly order the pegasus to dive down, holding on to the reins as well as the lance in a steel grip, to aid his group. Before the edge of his lance could reach its intended target however, two silhouettes suddenly jumped in as if to aid his attack.

Backup activates!Marth attacks Warlock! Warlock HP= 9/10Veyle attacks Warlock! Warlock HP= 8/10Byleth attacks Warlock with Blessed Lance! Roll1D20= 7, hit! Warlock HP= 6.5/10

Not his best attempt…but its effect was clear on the enemy as the warlock stumbled back, three clear gashes on their torso. Byleth spared a glance to Marth and Veyle, nodding. “Thanks.” 

It was too bad that his focus was not exactly on the battle itself- but rather spread between trying to understand the situation, trying to handle the lance and trying to handle a mount.

Warlock counters with Nova! Roll 1D20= 20, critical! Byleth HP= 4/10

The professor felt the horse jolt once more, and then everything went white. The next thing he knew, his body harshly struck the ground below and air was knocked out of his body. A metallic clatter echoed as the lance escaped from his grasp and it was by a fraction that the horse didn’t crush one of his legs. And somehow, the worst part wasn’t even the fall- but the burn. 

“Ugh…” His body felt sore and parts of it were definitely burned by whatever that thing was. It was as if he had survived a massive electrical discharge, muscles twitching, his head dizzy and confused for a solid minute and his arms protesting as he attempted to get up as quickly as possible. With a push, he unceremoniously managed to roll over to his knees and begin trying to get on his feet, the pegasi already up.

A gloved black hand shakily pointed at the warlock, as if the professor wanted to say something. A pause to consider his words, the decision to remain silent, the hand closed into a fist, then fell to his side. 

“That hurt a lot actually.” Another groan as he climbed back to the saddle. Come on, you just got there. Have some pride and don’t let yourself be taken out so easily. He wasn’t exactly able to tell if that was his own thoughts or Sothis’ words- or both. Regardless, he took to the skies once more.

Hilda was a curious student in his eyes. At first she seemed to act like the most generic iteration of ‘spoiled noble girl’ one could imagine- she seemed lazy, vain, ready to get others to do her job and so on. He noticed however that despite her unwillingness to partake in lessons or do homework, her grades on matters involving the use of axes were among the best of her class. Wondering if it was a hobby of hers, he took a sip of the tea. As expected, it tasted like grass.

At the question regarding his hand, cobalt eyes focused on his fingers for a moment. Gloved, hidden- his skin did feature scared but none of them seemed to be from that incident. “My hand is fine for some reason.” All he had was some muscle soreness at first, then nothing. “I’m fine. Nothing happened to me.” Indeed, nothing happened to him. Aside from some incidents here and there- such as the broken hand or Frederick’s unfortunate kick, Byleth actually didn’t go through as much as many of his fellow teammates.

Part of him wonders if he underperformed. The other wondered if he was just lucky.

But he believed he was just unfortunate, because it meant his students and fellow coworkers got injured and he didn’t.

“I asked because I saw it.” Nonchalantly grabbing one of the pastries, his gaze eventually met hers. “You getting punished by that thing.”

He bit into the pastry, not really bothering to savor it since his palate wasn’t used to these fine sweets. It was nice to crunch on, though.

“Sorry. I did a pretty shit job at keeping you and the other kids safe.”

When her eyes finally flickered up to meet his, she felt as though his stare could pierce her soul.

I saw it. Her heart sank.

"Did you..." She swallowed. "Could you hear? What it was saying?"

You do nothing.

"I don't know about that," she said in response to his second statement, the hint of a smile playing around her lips. "It wasn't for lack of trying. You threw yourself into danger again and again... The giant spike, the gargoyle... the guards..."

Because handling people wasn’t as easy as just grabbing a sword and swinging it. 

The professor didn’t nod or say anything for a solid moment, pondering on his own words. He couldn’t be blunt or careless now, lest he upset Hilda further. Finishing his pastry, he started to mindlessly fiddle with the napkins on his side, before letting out a soft sigh and making eye contact with Hilda again.

“People only become nothing when they die a meaningless death.” Byleth had heard. Both what was said to him and to all of his other companions. “If you’re alive, you’re something.” 

The silence from Sothis in his mind was slightly unnerving, but he knew she was there, watching him- evaluating him in her own way. “Staying alive is pretty hard in this world.” Sure, she was a noble. She was born with a roof over her head, food, clothes, all sorts of boons and riches. “Death doesn’t discriminate. And it doesn’t wait for you to be ready for it either.” 

He leaned back into his chair. “You’re alive. You’re just lazy.” The silence in his own heart often made him wonder if he was alive or not. “But it’s not out of malice. I know what malice looks like.” Byleth broke eye contact for a brief second, thinking on his words once more. Talking to people was hard- but trying to be a pillar of support for a student while Byleth himself barely had social experience…it felt like swinging a sword in the fog.

“You’re not less than others by being yourself.” It was what Jeralt often told him as a child. Byleth was a weird, scrawny, bug-eyed little weirdo, but Jeralt always told him he was fine just the way he was.

“...what I mean is.” The professor looked at her once more. “Ah, well. You’re okay. If you need help you can ask. You don’t need to explain if you don’t want to.” Then a shrug.

“Y-Yikes!”

Of all things Ewan expected to see today, a professor teleporting near him was not one of those things. It definitely caught him off guard.

(Well, "kid"...when he searched for Ewan's profile document to find out what his name was, Byleth also found out that he wasn't 12 years old like he had first imagined.)

"If you play with laxatives, retribution will come."

“How is he so scary?? Good thing I don’t take sword classes, so I should probably be able to avoid him… I hope.”

"I teach Faith."

"I see you every monday. Don't forget the homework."

“Y-Yikes!”

Of all things Ewan expected to see today, a professor teleporting near him was not one of those things. It definitely caught him off guard.

(Well, "kid"...when he searched for Ewan's profile document to find out what his name was, Byleth also found out that he wasn't 12 years old like he had first imagined.)

"If you play with laxatives, retribution will come."