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The Emperor stops at the top of the tower, gazing out onto the ruins of the place she holds so many fond memories of. Once it was mighty, a stronghold of the faithful. Now it's a ghost of its former self, haunted by bandits.
Edelgard isn't here to play exorcist to some bandits though. She has a different, more dangerous target in mind. There have been rumors in the area of something taking out Adrestian night patrols. On the occasion that there are survivors, they all tell of the same thing: a solitary figure, a gust of choking, smouldering ash that blankets the area, and a fight that they stood no chance in despite their number advantage.
That's not the only reason she's here though. No, that rumor is merely an excuse given to the other higher-ups of the Empire. A few dead patrols, sadly, isn't important enough for her to deal with most of the time no matter how much she may wish to help. That said, the real reason the Emperor is here is even more personal and selfish than that, because she's here for the Millenium Festival. Or, at least, what would have been the Millenium Festival.
How pitiful for her to come for something she prevented from happening in the first place.
It would seem the promise she made five years ago with her classmates has not been heeded. It's noon, and there is no one here. Just her, Hubert, and their personal battalions. No Petra, no Dorothea, no Caspar, no Linhardt, no Bernadetta, and not even a Ferdinand.
And certainly no Professor. That thought leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.
Still, the day is not over. As much of a waste as it will be, the Emperor feels obliged to stay the full day on the odd chance someone shows up. If they don't, she'll consider this part of her penance. She can't deny she deserves the rejection.
So she waits. She watches the sun move across the sky, listens to the wind through the ruined halls, and walks through the familiar yet unfamiliar locations.
Eventually she's travelled through the entire complex with the exception of the holy mausoleum. She's put that off for last, and now resigns herself to delving down into its unlit depths. She's only going down here out of a sense of obligation rather than any need to. It's part of her self-imposed punishment, to see the place where her own professor turned his back on her and her ideals.
She must keep herself honest, lest she end up like Rhea. Reflection in the tomb will hopefully do that.
She descends the steps into the massive room. It hasn't suffered as much damage as everything else, which surprises Edelgard. She was expecting this place to be ransacked. It has many remaining valuables, but none of them art touched. Sure, the door was sealed off, but a few bandits could easily open it with a bit of effort.
Her steps echo through the large chamber as she holds her torch aloft. She can only see half a dozen meters in any direction from the light, the room is cold, and there's a faint smell of ash in the air…
"Ash? There likely hasn't been a fire lit in here for years. Why would it smell of ash?"
She stops, and slowly turns in place with her torch held aloft. Her other hand strays to her hip, where she keeps a ceremonial rapier. On the off chance one of her old teammates did show up she didn't want to appear hostile, so she left Amyr behind with her guards along with orders to allow her teammates into the monastery if they indeed arrived.
The rumors of the figure followed by ash flicker through her mind. She draws her rapier. What are the odds that this figure has been using the monastery as a base, and specifically the holy mausoleum? It seems unlikely, yet it would explain the smell, and why there we no bandits camped out in the monastery itself, merely the area around it.
The drawing of her sword triggers some sort of response from the tomb. A quiet scraping noise, punctuated by clatters, echoes from deeper in the tomb. In an instant, Hubert is by her side.
"Lady Edelgard, perhaps it would be best we leave and send in your royal guards?" The man whispers.
"I can handle a single opponent Hubert." The emperor replies calmly. "I need no help. If this is trouble, I will deal with it."
"As you wish." The man says reluctantly. He fades back into the shadows behind her, continuing to watch her back.
Edelgard directly approaches the sound. It grows louder and louder, and the smell of ash grows more potent. The Emperor holds the torch high above her head, trying to illuminate the area and see what's causing the noise.
Suddenly, it falls quiet. Edelgard can only hear her own steps, the quiet crackle of the flame, and Hubert's movements behind her.
A red, glowing rope, intermittently interrupted by protrusions, illuminates itself just ahead of her. Edelgard immediately brings up her rapier, which proves to be the proper response as it whips towards her. The protrusions, bone, are batted aside by a deft flick of her wrist.
The Emperor's eyes widen when she sees the weapon withdraw into the shadows. She recognizes that weapon. "The Sword of the Creator? Only one person I know can activate it…"
Emerging from the darkness to stand just on the edge of the torchlight is a familiar face. He's pale, more so with the lighting, and has pointed ears and green hair that reflects the torchlight. Similarly green eyes stare out at her from the emotionless face. The Sword of the Creator hangs limply in his hand, extending behind him like a whip. His clothes look torn and unkempt, as if they've sustained years of wear (which they likely have).
"Professor." Edelgard says calmly, not lowering her sword. "You, of all people, were the last I expected to show today."
The man doesn't respond, he doesn't move. He stares blankly at her, making no visible movements.
"I had thought you dead Professor." She says. "I mourned your passing despite the fact that you opposed me. I value the time we had together."
The professor shifts slightly. He gives no response otherwise.
"However, I don't suppose this will be a happy reunion, as much as I may wish it to be." Edelgard whispers. She bends down and places the torch on the ground, and then holds her sword in both hands. The torch creates a circle of light, and she moves to stand on the far end from her professor. The man steps up into the light a bit so that they're an equal distance apart from the torch. "You can make the first move, if you wish."
The man doesn't waste time. He whips his sword in an overhead strike, and the battle begins.
The professor is just like Edelgard remembers him to be: brutal, pragmatic, and fast. There are no elaborate techniques he uses. He bashes at her defences with a flurry of swift attacks, making use of his superior reach, and tries to pull her sword out of her hands with the whip-like nature of his blade. He keep momentum, forcing her to back up in a circle around the torch.
Edelgard makes a tentative offense with a quick thrust of her blade. The professor effortlessly catches them with his crossguard, and Edelgard knows not to do that again.
She can't help but feel she'd be faring better with Aymr in her hands rather than a rapier. This delicate weapon is ill suited to her usual style. Even a broadsword would have been better than this. It doesn't help that the rapier is ceremonial, and therefore not quite as well balanced or well designed as she wishes it were.
However, the professor is not without fault. His unwillingness to use complicated techniques makes him somewhat predictable. She needs to be wary of getting too close, lest he pull his dagger on her or make use of his considerable hand-to-and skills, but otherwise he can easily be anticipated. She just needs a plan to punish that.
They dance in the torchlight for a few minutes, trading strikes and blocks at maximum distance their weapons allow. Each clash of their weapons echoes through the large room, bouncing off the walls and emphasizing each exchange.
It doesn't remain that way forever. The professor changes their dance. He leaps back, his eyes turn to a smouldering red, and his cheeks puff up. A moment later his head snaps forward and he spews out a stream of ash that quickly clouds the area of torchlight.
Edelgard squints against the cloud, which stings her eyes. She can't make out clear shapes through the rolling wall of grey. A flicker of red catches her attention, and she brings up her rapier just in time to block a swing from the Sword of the Creator.
"So!" Edelgard shouts, then coughs. "Y-You're the figure ambushing Adrestian troops, aren't you?"
She predictably gets no response. She doesn't need one though. How fitting that the so-called Ashen Demon was the one who could spit ash. He never revealed that to her during his time at the monastery. It would seem the "Ashen" portion of his title was a bit more literal than she expected, and with the glowing red eyes the "Demon" part makes much more sense as well.
Even with the swirling ash in her way, Edelgard isn't overcome. She watches out for the telltale red flash of her professor's sword, and uses that to plan her blocks. His simplistic fighting style betrays him here, as a complex attack would be much more difficult for her to deal with when she can't properly see it coming.
Knowing he won't expect a counterattack with all this ash swirling around, Edelgard decides to do exactly that. She waits for another obvious strike, then runs inside his reach with a hefty swing of her own.
Both of them stop in place when they feel something cold against their neck. The swirling ash slowly clears, revealing Edelgard's strike was true and would indeed have cut into his neck, but the professor had pulled the dagger from his belt and is holding it to her throat with his other hand.
Even though she thought she had him figured out, the professor managed to surprise her. Of course. She should have known he wouldn't be that simple.
"I see you haven't lost your edge, my teacher." Edelgard says softly. She withdraws her blade, leaving herself vulnerable, but the professor also pulls back his dagger. "We will die in battle with each other I have no doubt… but it won't be today."
For the first time since he appeared, Byleth gives a response: a simple nod.
Edelgard sheathes her weapon and picks up her torch. Byleth steps back to the edge of the torchlight. His green eyes, green for the moment anyways, reflect the flame with a softness she didn't expect.
"Goodbye, Byleth." She murmurs. She turns her back, and walks towards the stairs.
From the darkness behind her she swears, faintly, she hears: "Goodbye Edelgard."
She walks up the stairs with Hubert following close behind her. The smell of ash dissipates the further up they walk. When she reaches the top of the stairs, she turns back for a moment to stare down into the darkness below. She has no doubt that when she leaves, he too will exit the tomb. Maybe he'll join the remnants of the church, or the kingdom, or even the alliance.
It doesn't matter. At the end of the day, they're on opposite sides. It's a shame, but if fate wills it… then so it will be.
Edelgard turns her back on the tomb, and never looks back after that.