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The first time Byleth cried, it was for Jeralt. His death was the deep fracture in a dam that Byleth didn’t even know they had, and they couldn’t find a way to seal it. The scene of their father’s last moments replayed every time Byleth’s mind drifted.
Before that mission, they could spend all day fishing, or returning lost items, or teaching without exhaustion. But now it was tiring to even be awake. When they weren’t pouring over Jeralt’s diary, they were sleeping. And both actions usually still ended in tears.
Eventually, Byleth did leave their room. Dimitri was just outside, looking as though he had been standing there for an extended period of time. Waiting. His eyes lit up in surprise when they met Byleth’s; their blue eyes dim and underlined by dark shadows. He dusted himself off before approaching his teacher.
“There you are. Lady Rhea is looking for you, Professor. And after your audience, why don't you join me at the dining hall? You haven't eaten since...since it happened. Have you?”
Byleth said nothing. The days had bled into one another since their last mission, and Byleth hadn’t felt hungry while they had stayed in their room. Mourning, something in their mind supplied. They had been mourning. That was something they had seen others go through, but hadn’t felt themselves before.
“Forgive me... I suppose it's too soon to try and coax you back into the normal swing of things. As for what happened to Jeralt... I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to stop it. Stay here until you've found some peace. I'll cover for you with Lady Rhea and everyone else,” Dimitri said. He shuffled a little, looking like he had more to say. The worry was clear in his tense posture.
“Thank you,” they managed. Byleth wanted to offer more. It was not Dimitri’s fault that it happened, nor was it his fault that he could not stop it. Byleth had tried. Over, and over, and over again. No matter how they twisted back time, Monica and Thales were always there. That was fate, even if Byleth stalled to accept it.
“No need to put on a brave face. No one would blame you for taking time for yourself. I don't believe it's a sign of strength to just keep going forward no matter what. Taking the time to grieve for those we've lost...there's strength in that too. That's what I think, anyway,” Dimitri said softly. He cleared his throat, standing up a little straighter. “That said... It's also important to remember that no matter how sad you are, eventually your tears will dry up. That's when you have to figure out what it is you're living for. Then you can cling to that, with all your might, and start moving forward again.”
“What I'm living for?” Byleth repeated. They weren’t certain they were living for much prior to arriving at the monastery. Their focus was more on fighting and living to see the next day. Maybe they had been living for Jeralt and the mercenary group, at least. But now…
The eight faces of the Blue Lions class- their students- flashed through Byleth’s mind. Maybe they were a handful at times (Jeralt had called them brats on more than one occasion), but there was something fond in the thought of them. Byleth still had them.
Dimitri spoke of Duscur and the bloody event that ripped away his family and friends in the span of a single day. His blue eyes cold and hard, like tempered steel, as he described his father’s death. Byleth remained silent. He had lost so much more, and yet here he was, offering his condolences and his kindness to them.
“Now, the burden of the work they left behind falls on me. I must ensure they have no regrets. That's my duty, as the sole survivor of the tragedy. It's a heavy burden, but accepting it gave me the strength to pick myself up off the ground and start moving again. Start living again,” their student admitted. “Jeralt is gone... So, what will you do now, Professor? What must you do? Look deep in your heart and I'm certain you'll find the answer there… indelible and inescapable.”
Perhaps they could see it if they had a normal heart. But the one in Byleth’s chest was silent and unmoving, true to the words written in Jeralt’s diary. Even Sothis, normally outspoken and quick witted, offered no answers. Byleth found only one action that needed addressing, and that was revenge.
“I've probably bothered you enough for today, but I have just one more thought to leave you with. Even now, Seteth is gathering the knights to begin a full scale search for the enemy. It may not be right away, but before long they will find their trail. No matter what happens or what anyone may say, know that I plan to stand by you, Professor. Through anything. Until the bitter end.”
At Byleth’s nod and what they hoped was a thankful look, Dimitri took his leave. Despite the house leader’s best efforts, Byleth ended up meeting with the Archbishop. Like all the previous conversations, it left Byleth with more questions than answers. But the day passed. And Byleth felt put together enough to check in on their students in the morning.
Dimitri was, once again, not far from the dormitories when Byleth appeared. Deduce was with him this time, doing more listening than speaking in their shared conversation.
“Professor! Welcome back... I was... We all were…” he sighed, trying to collect his thoughts before trying again. “You've been on our minds. Know that your enemies are my enemies. I will do all I can to help you find justice. There is no one else I can... My strength is yours alone. I will fight as you command... I will kill anyone should you ask it of me.”
His retainer made no comment on the prince’s words, but spared a worried glance in his direction before speaking. “It is a shame what happened to Jeralt. I am sorry. There are no words. Leave some flowers on his grave for me.”
“Of course,” their professor said hoarsely. “Thank you. Both of you.”
The greenhouse would be a later stop in the day. Byleth passed the classrooms, only to hear two familiar students conversing from within the middle one. They paused as the professor walked in.
“Dark expressions don't suit you, Professor. But I'm... Well, I'm glad to see you out in the world again,” Sylvain smiled. “It seems this month will be a quiet one around here. There aren't many knights around to liven things up.”
“Most of the knights are gone, seeking out the enemy,” Felix explained. The redhead turned to him.
“Isn't that a bit much? I agree it's important, but is it a good idea to neglect the safety of the monastery?”
“What do you think, Professor?” Felix asked, unconvinced.
It would be a likely tactic- to draw out the monastery’s knights and leave the area susceptible to an attack. But Byleth had neither the energy nor the focus to consider the possibilities, so they settled with, “It would be a shame if we were invaded.”
“I agree,” said Felix. “We can send some knights after our enemies, but so many? It makes the church seem reckless.”
The two went back to normal conversation after that, with Felix scolding his redhead friend about the most recent incident with a girl. Byleth was thankful for the normalcy, even if it was at Sylvain’s expense for the time being.
They found Ashe later in the church. He stood in much the same way he had after the end of Lord Lonato’s rebellion, wringing his hands and eyes focused on the floor. On the battlefield, his arrows flew straight and true without hesitation. Here, however… his shoulders curved in with uncertainty.
“Not just Tomas, but Monica too. We can't be sure who to trust anymore, can we? Who are these people, really? What do they want?” Ashe questioned.
Byleth wished they knew. They wished the answer was as simple as knowing who the enemy was, so that they could cut them all down and be done with it. No more wandering blindly in the dark. No more getting stabbed in the back.
Mercedes and Annette were in their usual spots in the dining hall. Mercedes caught sight of Byleth first and she closed her eyes, smiling sweetly. “I'm so glad you're OK, Professor. I was so worried!”
Annette turned in surprise. “Oh, Professor! You must be starving. Mercie and I made some sweets for you. We were thinking that if you were to eat something sweet, it might help you feel better.”
The shorter girl held out a wicker basket covered in cloth, but the smell of warm fruit tarts was hard to miss even when under the fabric. Byleth felt their eyes water again and tried to blink the feeling away as they received the basket.
“Thank you for the thought,” Byleth said sincerely. They still weren’t hungry yet, but they’d try eating later to avoid worrying their students.
“Baking sweets is my specialty. I'm sure they'll do the trick,” Mercedes winked.
Outside of the room, the entrance hall was hushed and mostly empty. Ingrid stood by one of the pillars, deep in thought until Byleth approached. She regarded her professor with a soft gaze, then spoke.
“I'm so sorry... I never quite know what to say at times like these... Just...don't push yourself too hard too soon. It's OK to allow yourself to be sad right now. Losing someone dear to you…” Ingrid trailed off. She looked elsewhere, and Byleth was certain she was thinking of Glenn. Life was not kind, of that Byleth was certain, and each of their students had struggled to cope with loss like their professor was now. “Well, each loss is unique, but it's a feeling I know very well. That said... Professor, I…”
She said nothing more, but her professor understood. They placed a hand in comfort on Ingrid’s shoulder for a few moments before bidding their student a farewell.
Throughout the day, Byleth was met by not just their students, but the Golden Deer, the Black Eagles, and members of the church. Each expressed their condolences, offered their assistance, or told a story of Jeralt to remember him by.
The support was more than Byleth knew what to do with, but it started to fill the empty feeling. Maybe they would never be whole… but the fracture wasn’t so deep anymore.