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Lately the weather had been nothing short of unpredictable and brutal. It was late summer and it was the beginning of “should I be wearing a sweater or short sleeves” season. Occasionally, it would rain all morning long, seemingly looking like it would continue for the rest of the day, only for the sun to peak out in the middle of the afternoon blasting its late summer heat.
It was only natural that people started to get sick around this time of the year. As the evenings began to get cooler, students began to retreat to their rooms earlier. Others simply didn’t care to leave the Monastery's main buildings after dinner was finished with.
Byleth was an exception. He often still ran around the Monastery, despite the sun having quit its duties for the day. He ended his free days with a bit of dinner and retreated to the library to grade an assignment he had previously given his students the week before. He also grabbed the half-filled advice box with him in the miraculous case he had any leftover time during the evening (1).
By the time he finished grading the papers, taking small breaks to answer some advice box letters to avoid mindlessly grading the same assessment and answers over and over, it had gotten truly dark outside. The library had emptied itself, though, he admitted to himself, it hadn't been particularly busy when he arrived in the first place.
There was a new staff member upfront who gave him a raised brow, “Oh! Professor! I didn’t know you were here...Still here, in fact! It’s terribly late…you really ought to head to bed. You’ll only work yourself sick like this!” she whispered scolding him gently. There was no need, as there was not another soul in the entire library besides the two of them. Somehow, he worked late enough that the evening librarian had been replaced by the overnight staff whose job was simply to keep an eye out for trouble makers. Her words sounded familiar. It was something he heard from many others. Professor! You work too hard. Remember to take care of yourself now!
Byleth never intentionally worked hard. He was never one to work himself to death, wearing himself to the bone. As a mercenary, trying to tackle too much on an already worn down body was a death sentence. But now, despite the occasional battles on the fields, Byleth was being spoiled by the “luxurious” life of a teacher. There was no back-breaking work here and Byleth, oftentimes, simply just forgot the time. This was especially true on days he’d position himself in specific corners of the library that just didn’t have any windows to help tell time. The church bells rang, of course, but who could hear that when they were so immersed in pages and pages of text?
“Right. I was just leaving,” he responded to the polite lady at the desk and excused himself outside. He was not at all sleepy and as he stepped into the chill, Byleth immediately perked up (2), every trace of sleep he did have in his body fleeing into the cold air.
Making sure to wrap his coat tight as he quickly walked back to his room, Byleth was suddenly glad to have his jacket with him. It often drew weird stares from others, but it was comfortable and heck it was warm.
He made quick note of the complete absence of life around the Monastery. The trees gave a rustle as they protested the upcoming cold season, but there was no other noise. A skeleton crew of guards were stationed here and there, but none patrolled the area. Not even the cats were out. There were no students at all and his colleagues weren’t in sight either. How long was I in the library…?.
He got his answer as he entered his room in a hurry, closing the door to the cold outside. The small clock that laid by his bedside table gave an accusing tic as the seconds hand went from 2:38 to 2:39. He had a class to teach tomorrow and he would certainly be fatigued. It would certainly be a miracle if he didn’t catch ill at all!
Throwing the stack of papers he had on hand and the advice box to the side I’ll return it tomorrow or something, he got dressed into his pajamas, got into bed,
and walked 15 minutes late into class to a room of anxious little cubs. He felt sicker than the time he tried to chase a bandit and the two of them both ended up in the river. Jeralt had given him a scolding for acting recklessly and then he ended up with a cold the following day. It was the only time he’d ever gotten sick and despite never complaining throughout it, he had remained bed bound for a week before he was feeling up to another job.
He wasn’t “sick” this time around, but fatigue still managed to sneak into his body, draining every last bit of energy he had left for the entire day…that just started. It was 8:20 and class should’ve started 15 minutes ago. He had the entire rest of his lessons to go through today and the rest of the day to go.
Sylvain spoke first. Byleth could wear as many layers of black clothes he wanted, but even Jeritza’s half a face of a mask couldn’t hide how pale he probably looked. “Uh…professor…you don’t look too hot.” The joke, laced with hints of concern, was met with a period of awkward silence before Byleth finally spoke, “I’m…fine. My apologies for being late.”
“Professor, perhaps we should call it a day. If you’re unwell, you should take rest.” Dimitri said, using Sylvain’s start to continue the argument that everyone else in the class wanted to continue.
“Wouldn’t be much of a help to any of us if you end up on the floor.” Felix’s voice came from the classroom. Byleth could barely focus on where the owner of the voice sat. The room was beginning to blur and it was getting stuffy.
Just like me, you big dummy! Your students are right. If you push yourself too hard, you’ll just end up taking an embarrassingly timed nap right in front of your pupils. Let me tell you, sleeping when you don’t want to simply is no way to go! That cold stony floor sure doesn’t look like it feels good. Sothis chimed in. He’d not heard from her in the last few days and her voice shook him awake.
I’m. Fine. Byleth stubbornly thought, hoping it would shut Sothis up, before brushing the comments aside, “No. I’ll sleep when I die.” He told the class, a line he’d picked up from one of the mercenaries a few years back, a berserker who liked to pick fights whether he was drunk or bleeding out. That attitude didn't keep the mercenary alive very long. Byleth often wondered if Stinger was in the afterlife drinking with the prettiest women or sleeping like he said he would.
The room began to whirl. That’s not meee. Sothis stated. He saw her standing in his peripheral, arms crossed clearly unhappy. He didn’t dare turn to look at her in her specter form in fear that the room would fly away or the walls or the ground below him…His vertigo was back, and this time, it had nothing to do with some magical reason. Simply his own stupidity and recklessness.
Sighing, he handed a stack of papers to Dedue to pass around, “If I must rest, then you can all take a test and I’ll just sit here.” He didn’t mean it in a rude way, though his deadpan of a tone made it sound like one. He simply was...taking heed to everyone's warnings and trying to give the class a "quiet activity" while he sat down to rest. That's what teachers do right? Because no one really gave me instructions on how to teacher properly.
A round of protests went around as even those who weren’t fully awake yet, this early on, quickly jerked awake up at the news of a surprise quiz. “Professor! We weren’t told to study!” Ashe’s voice. He often worried about his grades despite doing well enough to leave the class in dust.
“Isn’t it a bit early for jokes?” A nervous laughter. Sylvain’s voice.
“Or cruelty?” Felix’s. “I mean you can just go back to bed and give us extra credit if we, like, go train or something.” A desperate plea bargain with no traces of his usual bitter tone.
“O…or…we can have a study hall and Ashe can help us with history.” Annette’s voice offered.
“OR! We can all just sneak back and hide in our rooms and pretend we’re in class.” Sylvain’s voice again.
“Guys! Pipe down! Professor looks unwell as it is!” Ingrid’s voice.
“Perhaps Professor should head to the infirmary…” Mercedes’s soft and gentle voice came from somewhere in the crowd right before it was lost to everyone speaking over each other. Byleth was no longer paying attention as he put everything into focusing on the floor below him, which was moving side to side, making him even more nauseous than when he’d woken up this morning.
Dedue’s voice finally joined the queue of people trying to catch Byleth’s attention, trying to calm the small uproar growing in the small room.
The small room that encased the growing noise. The volume only seemed to get louder, almost like the voices were bouncing around growing louder with every wall it landed on. Or maybe that was in his head.
Or maybe it was all in his head, because even Sothis was turning into a blur. Or maybe suggesting a pop quiz at 8 in the morning was a shitty idea, he thought.
Byleth couldn’t tell if the voices were growing louder because he was right (What a brilliant scientist I am, the joke randomly popping into his head) about the small room causing loud echoes or if it was because the room was whirling faster and the sound of people panicking grew louder.
“Professor?!?” The last thing he remembered was the sound of wooden chairs tumbling as people rushed out their seats, one out the door, most towards him, the walls spinning upwards, and the thought Pop quizzes at 8am. What a dumb joke… Or maybe that was Sothis’ thoughts. He couldn’t tell the difference, because at that moment, right before passing out, Byleth thought, I don’t know what she’s talking about. This floor is plenty comfy.
Wait…I shouldn’t be on the flo—
He found himself in the infirmary. The first thing, or person rather, he woke up to was Mercedes. Her warm smile greeted him the moment his eyes opened. “Oh Professor!” She got up off the chair and placed the book she’d been reading onto the bedside table. “I’m glad you’re awake. Professor Manuela told us that you had quite the fever!” It sounded like an accusation, even if it came from the most motherly voice Byleth had ever heard (not that he came across enough to judge). It sure put Rhea’s voice to shame.
“I’m…in the infirmary.” A statement, because where else would he be? He’d read enough fiction during his downtime to cringe at cliché statements and “Where am I?”s to ask that.
“Yes you are kid,” Byleth turned to the gruff voice. His father stood at the doorframe of the room, clearly unhappy. Sothis was in the room as well looking somewhere between upset and curiously smug You shoulda seen the way you HIT the floor! No, she was too happy to be mad.
“Oh! Sir Jeralt! I’ll leave you two alone.” She excused herself with a “We were all worried, Professor!” before she smiled and left with her book.
Jeralt waited, watching Mercedes round the corner outside in the hallway, before sighing and planting himself in the same seat that Mercedes had gotten up from, “What happened?” He asked, exasperated. Yeah! Tell him about your midnight adventures! Sothis teased from her own seat at another (empty) bed.
“I…fell.” Yes, smart. Might as well tell him the cats outside ate your lesson plans
“Fell?” Jeralt dragged the word out. “Fell.”
“Yes. I got dizzy and fell.” Byleth said without adding another word.
“People don’t just fall. If you were bleeding out and ‘fell’ or you were sick and ‘fell’ then you shouldn’t have been in the classroom in the first place.” Jeralt stated. He didn’t sound particularly angry, but he was upset enough.
“I slept too late.” Byleth said.
“And how late is ‘too late?’”
“Somewhere between-“ 2 in the morning Sothis interrupted, “one.” A lie.
Jeralt stared at him long and hard before giving another sigh, standing up, “Rest kid. Look, I know you’re excited to teach and all,” I am? “But if you don’t take care of yourself, how can you take care of your pupils? Remember, many of these students look up to you. What example are you giving them if you work yourself to death.”
He walked over and tossed Byleth’s hair, the same way he’d used to to let the latter know that he wasn’t too upset with him. “Get some rest. Proper rest. Get back to teaching later. You should’ve seen how pale Ashe looked by the time he found me in the halls So that’s who escaped my classroom. “Here I thought you died by the way he sounded.”
He shook his head and started to leave, “No more overworking and no more midnight grading or…lesson plans…whatever you were doing at one in the morning.” I’d been a long time since Jeralt scolded Byleth the way he used to as a kid. “Take care of yourself. You can’t keep your guards up if you keep collapsing or feeling dizzy. And remember you promised you would keep all guards up, especially...around her.” Jeralt warned, the last few words a whisper.
Byleth nodded, no argument nor words came from him. He was still dizzy, though the pounding headache had mostly subsided.
Jeralt gave another look through at his kid again before leaving again, only to stop and turn around back at Byleth. The worry on his face was gone as a smirk replaced it. Standing with his arms crossed at the doorway he said, “Now what’s this pop quiz I heard all about? Hanneman said that he and his class could hear the screaming from inside their classrooms…through the stone walls!"
Byleth waved his father away, Pop quizzes are a bad idea. Especially at 8 in the morning.