Chapter Text
Five years.
Had five years really passed since the battle? Byleth doubted the villager who had found her had any reason to lie, but it was still hard to believe she had slept for so long. It seemed so much had changed, based on the state of the monastery alone.
And what of her precious Deer? How had the years treated them? Were they healthy and thriving, or had this new cruel world torn them apart and left them in ruins as it had with the Church?
Would they even remember the promise they had made in those happier times?
Byleth mounted the first stair leading up to the Goddess Tower, carefully picking her way around debris. Something was pulling her here, telling her this was where she needed to be. It felt almost as if Sothis was with her once more.
As she crested the last step, Byleth saw there was someone waiting for her. He was richly dressed, back going rigid at the sound of her footsteps. He slowly turned to face her, his handsome face down turned in a frown.
“Rude of you to keep a man waiting, Teach.”
His voice was falsely pleasant. There was a harshness to it Byleth could not place. Bitter and sharp, edging close to...hate? They were all emotions Byleth could name, but her limited experience with them left her unable to place the correct label on them.
And he had called her Teach. Only one person ever did that. Her eyes lifted to deep emerald ones, wavering between anger and hurt.
“Claude?” she breathed out. What had happened to him?
Claude chuckled, and very much like his smile, there was no truth to it. “Didn’t think you’d actually come, Teach. Going to finish me off as well?”
Byleth’s lips creased into a frown. What did he mean by that?
“Claude,” Byleth started again. She moved to take a step toward him, but immediately stopped as he whipped the bow off his back, knocking an arrow with a well practiced maneuver.
“Don’t,” he ordered, his voice sharp, no longer hiding his hostility behind the thin veil of pleasantry. “Don’t come a step closer, or I will not hesitate to put this between your eyes.”
The tip of the arrow sparked with a strange red and black energy. A Hero’s Relic then. Most likely Failnaught, the heirloom of the Riegan family. She had read about it in one of the books Claude himself recommended to her.
Something tightened in her chest. Byleth looked down, making sure that no arrow had come to rest between her breasts. The last time she had seen Claude he had told her how much she meant to him, in his own ‘can’t trust myself enough to actually say the words’ way. She had vowed to herself to tell him how much he meant to her, after the battle was won and he would be considered a graduate of the Academy, a ceremony tainted in blood and death. He was the heir apparent of the Alliance, and she only a merc, but she did not want to leave his side. He had hinted before at the dreams he carried, and his vision of the world had sounded like something Byleth could find herself fighting for, not because someone paid, but because he had given her a purpose.
So why now did he treat her as an enemy? Was he angry that she had been gone for so long? More and more questions were piling up, and Byleth continued to fail at finding her answers.
“Throw the sword down, Teach,” Claude ordered.
Cold steel pressed against the back of her neck, and Byleth mentally cursed herself. She was so absorbed with her former student she had not heard anyone come up behind her.
“I would do as he says, friend.”
Yuri. And by his tone he most certainly did not consider her a friend anymore.
Byleth reached for the Sword of the Creator, fingers curling around its hilt. She did not take her eyes off Claude’s face, saw as his eyes narrowed further, as she raised the sword in front of her. She held it close to her chest, almost eerily similar to the woman who had haunted her dreams with war and death before Sothis’ awakening.
Behind her, Yuri’s blade pressed against her skin. She felt the sting as it pierced her flesh, a warm droplet of blood rolling down between her shoulder blades. He reached around her, and for a moment Byleth resisted him, but Claude’s emerald eyes judged her.
Byleth let it go.
The barest hint of relief flickered through those eyes she could not take her sight from, but Byleth was not given a chance to linger on that.
Yuri grabbed both of her hands, calloused fingertips scratching at her skin, and forced Byleth’s arms behind her back. Rope secured her hands, and she was marched back down the stairs.
Neither Claude nor Yuri said anything to her as they led her through the monastery grounds. They kept their weapons drawn, alert and looking for any enemies that could possibly come upon them. The villager had mentioned bandits, but Byleth doubted those were the foes her former students were on the lookout for.
Yuri grabbed a torch as they reached a thick iron door. Claude pulled forth a ring of keys, unlocking the heavy door to reveal a set of stairs leading into darkness, ones they Byleth had never noticed before. The trek down was time consuming, Byleth unable to move very fast with her hands behind her back, or else risk serious injury by falling the rest of the way. Never once did they try to hurry her, intent on whatever grim task they were carrying out for her.
The air had grown damp and heavy by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs. Claude produced the key ring again, unlocking another door, and Yuri guided Byleth through. The whole thing was rather polite given the circumstances.
She found herself in a wide circular room, a series of cells set into the walls. Byleth had not realized Garreg Mach even had a dungeon. Yuri led her to the largest of the cells, and waited as Claude produced the last key. At least they were kind enough to remove the ropes before Yuri held the cell door open for her, even if their hands lingered on their weapons until she stepped inside.
Byleth turned to look at Claude, but he was no longer willing to meet her gaze. A muscle twitched in his cheek, almost as if she had managed to slap him across the face with her eyes alone.
The sound of the door closing behind her had a note of finality to it that almost brought tears to her eyes.
“Keep an eye on her,” Claude told Yuri, the latter handing over the Sword of the Creator. “I need to update the others.”
Yuri leaned back against a wall on the opposite side of the room where he would have a perfect view of every move Byleth took. He nodded in acknowledgement, waving his hand in an almost flirtatious gesture.
Claude paused for the briefest of moments, and Byleth’s heart leapt, thinking he might actually turn around. She wanted desperately to ask him what had happened, what terrible crime she had committed to become a prisoner. But Claude did not look back. Claude said nothing more to her before that door crashed closed behind him.