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Byleth lay in bed, staring at the ceiling listlessly. Were there always that many cracks? Maybe they’d let Rhea know. They weren’t sure who to contact about that. But cracks in the ceiling aside, Byleth needed to address the cracks in their heart. The crackling sobs they let loose at night. The way their voice cracked when they tried to teach. They felt so hollow, like someone had ripped out the heart they weren’t always sure they had. This was the first time they ever felt so much emotion, and it was because of their father’s death.
Murder, they thought instead. Jeralt was murdered in cold blood, directly in front of them. Somehow, that was worse than being told secondhand. But Jeralt died in their arms and Byleth was able to find some small comfort in that. Jeralt saw them cry for the first time. So…
No. Nothing about that was okay. Nothing about this was okay. Byleth wasn’t meant to lose Jeralt in such a way. Jeralt was supposed to die of… Well, Jeralt shouldn’t have died at all.
It was hard to accept, so Byleth didn’t accept it. Sothis let them weep. Even though she was stuck in their head, she kept quiet most days to let Byleth recuperate from such a loss. Manuela and Hanneman took over most of their teaching duties, but they still oversaw group tasks and let their students ask questions meant for them. They had to take care of the Black Eagles somehow. Even some of the Blue Lions and Golden Deer gave their condolences.
But Byleth didn’t want condolences. They wanted Jeralt and that was the one thing they couldn’t get back.
It was only days since the murder of their father but Byleth realized they had to get out of bed. They had to bathe. They needed to take care of themself somehow. Early that morning they went to the baths and washed their greasy hair and body. They sobbed, hoping the running water would silence the worst of their sobs. Then they dressed and went back to their room. Thankfully they didn’t see anyone.
They lay in bed again, looking at their cracked ceiling. They sighed, yet it gave them no relief. Their chest felt tight, like nothing they did would ever relieve the tension.
They missed the nights where Jeralt would drink, the smell of alcohol enveloping him, talking about nothing. They missed going fishing. They missed their mercenary days, side by side with their father, killing bandits that terrorized villages. It was a weird way to bond, but Jeralt taught them everything they knew about the sword. They were thankful for that.
They never really thought about it until now, but they always thought Jeralt would die of old age, maybe an alcohol induced accident, maybe a giant fish would swallow them whole, but they never thought he’d be murdered. Jeralt was too strong for that. And Byleth had tried so hard to save him, even turning back the hands of time using the Divine Pulse, but it wasn’t enough. Sothis said it was fate, but Byleth felt that it was just the wickedness of those working with the Flame Emperor.
If anything, losing their father made Byleth speechless. They rarely talked as is, only speaking during lectures, seminars, and occasionally having conversations with the other residents at the monastery. But they were always to the point so what they said was brief really. But losing Jeralt seemed to take away all their words. Byleth would try to speak in casual conversation but they couldn’t. Mostly, they kept to themself. The students and faculty left them alone. They were thankful for the space.
Today though, they’d try. They’d try to walk around on their free day, they’d try to have lunch with someone, they’d try to garden, to fish, to cook, to speak, but they weren’t sure if the effort would be worth it. But today, they had to try. Try to find normalcy in a life without Jeralt.
The sun was finally out and they took that as a good sign. There was some cloud coverage, but the area was just getting over a thunderstorm. It was as if the sky itself had wept for the loss.
Byleth left their room, hearing the bell that signaled the day had started. They saw some students leave their rooms. They wondered if the other members of the faculty were up and about and were sure they could find them in their offices. Rhea was always in the audience chamber. Maybe Seteth was in the private confessional room or his office. Manuela was probably tending to the wounded in her infirmary. Hanneman was probably researching Crests. Alois… they knew Alois was soon to be made Captain of the Knights of Seiros. Alois certainly deserved it, and in fact he would probably have inherited it had Jeralt retired, but earning it this way… It made this all too real. So Alois was probably clearing Jeralt’s things, or maybe he was giving the dead some privacy still. Byleth needed to find the thing Jeralt wanted them to see.
So Byleth walked. Their legs felt shaky, they felt that at any moment they’d collapse, but they walked. Soon they were walking up the steps to the second floor and then found themself at the Captain’s office door. Byleth looked around once they opened the door and in the sunlight filtering through the window, they saw something glitter on the desk.
It was the ring Jeralt had given to Byleth’s mother. It was beautiful, pearl white with lilac and silver etchings, and Byleth knew this was the thing Jeralt wanted them to have. They saw a book that looked as if it was put back in its place in a hurry, and Byleth took it out and saw that it was in fact Jeralt’s journal. Sothis said as much.
His handwriting was legible and actually quite nice. It was here that Byleth saw how old they actually were, if the date of ‘the baby’s’ birth was to be believed. They had to be that baby. They certainly felt older than twenty-one, but anyone carrying the burden of a parent’s death would feel ancient.
Byleth placed the journal back in its place. They wanted to keep it, but perhaps they’d grab it later. Holding on to their father’s journal felt...wrong, for now at least.
Byleth left the office and walked around the second floor. Rhea had already given her condolences as did many of the faculty. Everything felt so...still. Byleth felt numb.
They descended the stairs leading to the first floor and decided maybe it was time to eat. They needed something. Maybe they’d feel whole again.
Edelgard was at the dining hall and Byleth wanted to hear something from her. But of course, Edelgard, being so forward thinking, told Byleth that it was time to take a stand. She wasn’t wrong by any means; Byleth wanted revenge after all, but was now truly the time to move on? Their enemies were probably making more plans but the Knights of Seiros had yet to return with anything concrete.
It didn’t matter though. Byleth grabbed some food, eating quietly by themself (something that was unheard of among the students), and then left for their room. They’d speak again another day.