Chapter Text
“Will you stay by me forever?”
“I cannot promise you that. Death knows no friend.”
“Then, will you remember me forever?”
“Even in the afterlife.”
--
Death truly knows no friend.
She expected something more grandiose for her death, like a clip of her life flashing before her or whispers from the goddess herself (though the latter had lost its novelty long ago). Apart from the immediate shock she was going to die, she didn’t feel anything particularly different. It was still the same blue sky she always saw. She was almost offended at how sunny it was, considering the number of lives definitely lost that day. Perhaps, there were fewer birds. They were smart enough to avoid their death. Apparently, she wasn’t.
As she fell deeper into the chasm and darkness began to take over, she let out a long big sigh. There was no one to scold her of her improper manner.
Byleth closed her eyes once again. This time, forever.
--
In Imperial Year 1181, the Adrestian Empire officially launched its offensive against the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Leicester Alliance. The unification of Fodlan has begun.
With many witnessing her fall, esteemed professor of Garreg Mach Officers Academy, Byleth Eisner, was declared dead.
--
There was a voice.
Kill Count Bartega von Varley.
Count Theodore Reuben Rowe.
It sounded haunted.
Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg.
And King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.
It desperately begged for her help.
--
There was a flicker of light. She did not know what it meant when she reached to grasp it.
The hand of fate has moved.
--
The goddess wakes up once more.
--
“—lost your mind, little lamb? Found a way to curse me?”
This time, the voice did not sound distant. She could feel its presence looming over her, cruel and mocking. She was used to that sort of thing, was not something she was unfamiliar with. It tried to intimidate her— she had faced much worse. Yet, her body uncharacteristically jerked awake upon hearing it. Like she was prey. She had never been the prey.
What greeted her was the face of an unfamiliar man. He did not look particularly impressive or noteworthy, yet the sight of him made her sick to her stomach. She instinctively made herself small, which did not pass the man’s notice. A mistake.
The man took a step closer. “You should curse your greedy father instead. It’s all his fault, you know?”
Another step. “Or perhaps, it’s your fault all along?”
Another step. “I would have thrown away a useless girl like you too, if I had a daughter like you.”
Another step. “Even my own foolish daughter isn’t as worthless as you are, it’s quite impressive.”
And another. “Ah, maybe it really is your fate to be here. Poor little girl.”
None of his words made sense to her. Was he talking to her? Yet somehow, it rattled her all the same. She could not control the tremble of her body, nor rationalize her unwarranted fear of this unknown man.
She did not realize she was backed into a corner. There’s no other place to run.
Why am I trying to run?
Why, indeed? It made no sense. But, she had no time to ponder when the man took a large step to her space. She felt goosebumps all over.
He placed his hand on her cheek. It was repulsive.
Before he could utter another word, she tackled the man and flipped him to his stomach, face planted to the ground. To her absolute confusion, her body felt strange. Though she was able to pin down the man twice her size successfully, she felt really weak. Her grip wasn’t as strong, her movements were slow. If it wasn’t for the element of surprise, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to pin him down again. Was she drugged? No, rather than anything, her body felt different. It felt foreign. Like it wasn’t hers. She put the thoughts aside for the moment.
“Who are you?” she asked, voice stern and revealed none of her emotions. Her voice sounded unfamiliar. It wasn’t hers.
“W-what the bloody hell are you doing? Get off me at once!” he screamed, struggling under her hold.
“Let me ask again,” she placed more pressure on her hold. The man cried in pain. “Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here?”
“Are you out of your mind? Let me go, bitch!”
“It seems you don’t understand your current position,” she moved her hand down his throat and began to squeeze painfully. “I ask, and you answer. I hope you value your life.”
“Did your little ritual impaired your brain?” he cried, fear creeping through his voice. “Fuck, let me go!”
Then, she finally noticed the diagram drawn on the surface where she laid before. It was nothing she recognized, though her knowledge in magic was never her best. There were many incantations written within the circle, all of them she had never seen before. However, most discernibly, the diagram was drawn in red. Dark red ink, like blood. The sight sent goosebumps down her spine. It looked deadly eerie. Then, she noticed the fresh cuts on her left arm. Was it her blood? The new information only served more questions than answers.
“What is that?” she asked, referring to the ritual diagram.
“Fuck should I know? It’s you who made it you stu—”
Without warning, she bashed his head on the floor. It did enough to draw some blood. “I can really kill you, you know? I suggest you speak more carefully.”
“F-fuck, are you still that useless Thalya?”
Thalya . She did not recognize the same. Why did he call her Thalya?
“Who’s Thalya?”
“Oh goddess, she really lost her mind,” he whispered, obvious tremble in his voice. For the first time, he genuinely sounded scared. “T-thalya, it’s me. Can we talk about this nicely?”
“I said, who is Thalya?”
The man cried again before she was about to bash his head once more. “It’s you! You are Thalya. It’s me, Bartega. Don’t you recognize me?”
Bartega . She recognized that name. “You mean Bartega of house Varley, Adrestian Empire’s Minister of Religion?”
“Y-yes! You remember me?”
The situation took an even stranger turn. Now, she recognized that somehow, she resided in the body of a woman supposedly named Thalya. Observing her body again, it really wasn’t hers. Her skin looked paler, her body thinner without muscles she had accumulated through rigorous training. It explained why she felt much weaker. The revelation made her stomach churn.
And there was the man under him. It was Count Bartega von Varley of the Adrestian Empire. She knew of his high position within the Empire’s inner court, obviously no ordinary noble. He was also Bernadetta’s father. It was the first time since she woke up that she thought of herself.
I was supposed to die.
The thought distracted her for a moment, but it was enough for the man to take his chance and shoved her away.
Now, their positions were reversed. He hovered above her with his hands around her neck. “You fucking bitch! How dare you put your filthy hands on me?”
He tightened his grip around her neck, effectively choking her. “I don’t care if you’ve lost your fucking mind, I will kill you. You’re worthless anyway, be glad I’m finally ending your miserable life.”
She had no time to think. Moving purely on instinct, she kicked the man on his groin with her knee. The action loosen his grip on her, which she took by once again reversing their position. However, he was quick to recover and ready to lunge at her. Not taking a chance, she held no mercy when she elbowed him on the head, with as much force her frail body could muster. She did so multiple times, bashing his head to the ground till it was bloody. His movements slacked. He resisted no more, until it completely stopped. He was no longer breathing.
Killing was not something foreign to her, though she could not say she ever did her job this messy. Yet, the sight of this bloody count laying before her made her body tremble. She could not explain why. It was not fear.
She pondered if it was a good idea to kill him just like that. For one, she hadn’t extracted enough information from the man. Too many questions left unanswered, even after ignoring the glaring absurdity of it all—that she’s alive, in another person’s body. Even by the goddess’ will, such thing shouldn’t be possible, should it?
Then, the fact that the lord of the manor had died. By her hands. It was odd that no one had come by to check on them. Their earlier struggles weren’t exactly quiet. In fact, the count had screamed rather loudly to alert the entire residence, yet no one came. She had not felt a single presence nearing. There should be guards nearby at all times for such an esteemed noble such as he, should it not?
At times like this, she really missed Sothis. Was she still present, she wondered.
Wiping the blood off her skin, she took her time to explore the room in its entirety. It was a rather lavish bed chamber, decorated with all sorts of opulent and exorbitant adornments. A large painting of the count hung at the top of the bed. There were various scratches on the canvas, chipping off the paint of the otherwise magnificent painting. Somehow, the scene looked sad.
Despite all of its embellishment, the room looked bare. Its exquisite finery certainly did not fit for a mere guest room, yet there really was nothing else to indicate otherwise. There were only a couple pairs of the same white gown inside the dresser. It was the same one she was currently wearing. No pictures, books, or even something as mundane as a handkerchief by the side table. Besides the conspicuous red diagram at the centre of the room, nothing was out of place. It did not look lived in.
Then, she found a small book underneath one of the pillows. It was a bible. It looked very well used, with all the creases and fraying of the paper. Perhaps, the owner of the room was a devout believer. Was it also the original owner of the body, she wondered. Considering the blasphemous blood magic she had performed, perhaps not.
There were lots of writings within the pages, some overlapping the existing texts of the bible. Most of it she could hardly read, the handwriting looked rushed and mindless. There were often what she assumed were tear stains in a lot of it, smudging the ink on the paper. She wondered what happened.
Some of them read very sorrowfully.
dear goddess, please give salvation to your humble servant. i beg of you.
why must i go through this suffering? why goddess?
Some looked almost mad.
i will curse you. i w ill curs e you i willc urseyou i willcu rsey ou i wil l curs eyouiw ill—
i will burn that wretched count in the eternal flame, i will skin him with acid until he begged for me, i will—
And some sounded very, very exhausted.
perhaps, it truly is my fate to bear this pain in the name of the goddess.
iwanttodieiwantodieiwanttodieiwantodieiwanttodieiwantodieiwanttodieiwantodie—
There were lots of Count Varley’s name scattered around the pages. Most if it were scratched off. There were other names too, Theodore being the next most prominent. And every now and then, there were Edelgard’s name. As well as Dimitri’s.
Her breath hitched upon seeing those names. Whatever happened to them?
Though before she could let her thoughts wander, a folded piece of paper fell onto her lap. It must be wedged between one of the pages. She began to read what’s inside.
--
Her hands trembled. She was scared.
--
I’m very sorry to bother you from your slumber. Though I understand, better than anyone, there is nothing more peaceful than the sweet lull of death, with tremendous shame I still call you here. I hope, unlike me, you can embrace life lovingly and appreciate the opportunity I am giving you.
I have called upon your soul from the afterlife to replace my own and reside within my body. I give you full reign of what you want to do with it. I do not care. I only ask you to fulfill my dying wish in exchange for this body. My wish is simple. Please offer the souls of the following people.
Count Bartega von Varley
Count Theodore Reuben Rowe
Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg
King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd
I sincerely apologize to weigh you with such burden. Yet, I’m afraid my soul will never be truly at peace unless these people finally receive what they deserve. This contract obliged you to reap their souls with your own two hands. Any other way will not be honoured. I thank you for your understanding.
If you fail to fulfill my wish within one year, however, know that your soul will bounce back to purgatory. It will walk aimlessly for eternity never to be reincarnated. I advise you to do your best to honour our contract.
I wish you good luck. May the goddess bless your journey.
Sincerely,
Thalya Arne Rowe
--
“It’s a song my mother sang to me every night. Not even my father knows of this.”
“Why did you share it with me?”
“This was the only thing I remember of my mother. Perhaps, I’d also like you to have something to remember me of for years to come. Please, don’t forget me, Professor.”
“I won’t. I promise.”