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Garreg Mach Monastery.
Cethleann always adored visiting one of the most iconic landmarks of Fódlan. Her reasons were countless. Was it due to the abundance of memories she had accumulated from this place? Or was it because she met the love of her life here? She pondered momentarily as she stared out of the window, watching the familiar architecture get closer and closer.
Her husband, Byleth, joined her with this early sightseeing, placing down the book he had been reading.
“Byleth, my love, it’s…” she muttered, finding herself a little speechless thanks to the wave of nostalgia surging throughout her body.
“It looks the same as ever.” He made his own observation. It was a little difficult for both of them to believe that Garreg Mach Monastery remained seemingly untouched, even as the world around it evolved.
Even though they had a role to play in the law that prohibited modernization of these ancient buildings, it was still unbelievable to believe that nothing had changed even during their absence, when that law easily could have been revoked. After all, much about Fódlan’s government structure had changed over the centuries. They were no longer king and queen for one, and their successor, while loved by the nation, did not hold the same power they used to have.
It was heartwarming to know that the rulers of this era had respected this ancient law, preserving an important part of Fódlan’s history when there was no true obligation to keep the tradition.
“Attention all passengers. We will be arriving at Garreg Mach Station shortly.”
“It’s good to be back, isn’t it?” Cethleann asked her husband, who nodded with a smile. The two gathered their belongings, waiting for the train that was taking them to this land of memories to reach its destination.
Both Byleth and Cethleann had observed Fódlan evolve dramatically over the ages, even during their time as rulers. Modern inventions aided in many things, such as easier forms of travel. It had taken them a little while to warm up to these new inventions though, but they did so in time.
Byleth was won over by the development of an advanced mailing system, allowing for easy contact with his children. Cethleann, on the other hand, was won over by the invention of a little device called the camera, finding an incredible amount of joy in being able to preserve momentous moments.
As the train finally stopped, the husband and wife leaped off, breathing in the fresh air of the Oghma Mountains. Even though they weren’t yet at the monastery itself and had been dropped off in the adjacent town, they both felt that particularly pleasant tingle.
...the feeling of returning home.
The town they had found themselves in was fairly well preserved, reminiscent of their memories of it, though it had received some modern touches here and there. Unlike the monastery itself, the town was exempt from preservation, but the people who lived here throughout the generations conserved the area regardless. The only notable changes made were ones that benefited their livelihood, such as construction of hotels and a variety of new shops to account for the surge of tourism in recent centuries.
Byleth and Cethleann had no plans to stay in the town for long, but it was still nice to see it again. They both knew they would have to hike a bit to get to the monastery itself, but they didn’t mind, for it was a walk they were more than familiar with and eager to re-explore. Besides, being able to see those towering structures in the distance get closer and closer was a treat in itself.
It was a little surprising that they hadn’t been recognized yet, considering their notable statuses in Fódlan’s history, though it had been a solid three hundred years since their rule had ended. The only remnants of their appearance would be from paintings, which while accurately depicting their image, weren’t as easily accessible for viewing as photos. Even then, the outfits they were wearing now were significantly more modern and smart, so it would be theoretically more difficult to make the connection. Their hair styles would certainly be recognisable, but they figured strangers wouldn’t look too much into it.
They were both a little relieved, for they were only here for a sight-seeing tour of a location they had not visited for a long time. This was a day for them and them alone.
...They probably would have to be careful when visiting the cathedral though, just in case they decided to put up some paintings there.
Byleth was ready to head off, but he noticed his wife was preoccupied with taking a lot of photos… perhaps too many photos. But truthfully, he didn’t mind in the slightest, for she had the biggest grin plastered on her face as she took every snap. He could watch her go at it for hours if he really wanted to, for she was always happy when engaging in her hobby.
Cethleann focused much on the mountaintops that surrounded Garreg Mach, making sure the spires of the cathedral and academy were always in view.
“Oh! We must get this photograph… uhm…” she started excitedly, pausing as her expression distorted into one of unease. “...Oh dear… what was the word for it again…?”
“Printed?” Byleth inquired. He was glad he gave her the answer she sought, for it meant that smile returned to her face. Excitedly hopping over to him, she wrapped him in a tight hug.
“Yes, that was it! Thank you, my dear.” Cethleann giggled, facing away from him and returning once more to focusing on her camera. Byleth felt a little disappointed about leaving her embrace so quickly, but he had a way to fix that.
“At least you’re better than your father when it comes to this new technology.” Byleth chuckled a little himself, wrapping his arms around his wife’s stomach while she took photo after photo. She sunk into his warmth, taking advantage of his grip on her to lean back and take photos with an interesting angle… though she did find herself blushing warmingly, slowing down her output of images. “He still cannot wrap his head around the train, let alone a camera.”
“He’s always had a hard time adjusting, but he is trying, he really is.” Cethleann responded, trying to keep a straight face. She couldn’t help but recall the time she learned her father was just a little bit terrified of trains.
“I hope he will be fine coming here in a week’s time.” Byleth wondered..
“Our son is providing him with transport,” Cethleann informed him, still snapping away while she took a few remaining photos of the local area. “I believe he will be able to handle a traditional royal carriage pulled by horses.”
“I hope so,” Byleth laughed, intensifying his grip on her a little instinctively. His chin rested on her verdant hair, watching her engage in her hobby. However, he did notice her photo-taking was slowing down tremendously fast. Eventually, she stopped, looking up at him with a saddened look on her face.
“Ah, I must apologize. I am getting too carried away here, aren’t I? You must be bored watching me take a countless number of photographs.” the former saint apologized, quickly placing her device back into her bag.
“You know I don’t mind.” He spoke calmly. He truly meant it too. He had always enjoyed his wife’s hobbies, for anything that put a smile on his beautiful wife’s face was a good thing.
“I know, but let us depart, for we are here to visit the monastery, are we not?” Cethleann rhetorically asked, breaking free from his grip. However, this was only because she wanted to place her hand within the comfort of his own while they walked. He accepted gracefully, holding tightly as they shared their warmth.
The former royal couple began their journey towards the monastery, leaving the small town at the base of the mountain, heading towards the passageway that would lead to their former home.
On the way, they passed by countless couples, alongside many families. All had smiles on their faces, which brought smiles to their own too, for it was evident that the world they now lived in was still one of tranquility.
Fódlan was at peace, and had been ever since the great war a millennia ago.
Skirmishes naturally did still occur from time to time, for battle is a potential product of disagreement, but they were condensed to local areas and it didn’t take long for harmony to be restored.
The people had much faith in the joint efforts of the royal family and the government of representatives. The Knights of Seiros, while not having as much dominion as before, were well-respected and considered guardians of the realm, with much of their efforts focused on keeping Fódlan’s borders safe.
In hindsight, not a tremendous amount had changed from the relative norm of old, but the differences were still significant and helped elevated Fódlan to a new dawn.
Byleth remembered a time where he knew little about the world and its affairs. It was amusing to consider how much he had learned since.
It was also gratifying that he was reminiscing so much while walking this particular path. He had walked it before with his father, his mercenaries and the three house leaders, heading to the location that would greatly impact the rest of his life.
Those of old were long gone. It was a little saddening to look back for this reason. What would his old friends and family say about this new world he and his wife had created?
What would his father think?
What would Claude think? What would Dimitri think? He wondered what even Edelgard would think of it. These questions never left his mind.
As if sensing he was feeling a little down, Cethleann’s grip on her husband’s hand tightened, distracting him enough to make him subconsciously look at her. He was greeted with the signature smile he adored so much.
He felt warm again.
Cethleann was more than familiar with loss and how to overcome it, especially as she had lived longer than her husband.
Her presence in his life had helped much with overcoming this unique challenge, and she was certain his own presence had even helped her too.
The couple continued to walk, putting any regrets behind them as they returned to a familiar world.
When they arrived at the monastery, they were stunned.
Garreg Mach Monastery looked the exact same.
If any changes had been made, Byleth theorized they were just restorations, for the monastery looked as elegant as ever. Every detail matched his memory perfectly.
Cethleann was equally as shocked. She felt overwhelmed with joy.
“Byleth…” she whispered. “We are home.”
“Yes, Cethleann, we are.” he spoke just as quietly in response.
It was a sequence of phrases they always exchanged whenever they visited Garreg Mach.
It had been a long time since their last visit though. In fact, this was their first visit as an ordinary, retired couple.
For that reason, it made this homecoming feel even sweeter.
The marketplace even looked familiar, though the goods being sold had shifted from weaponry to souvenirs for tourists.
It was a little disorientating not to see any students wearing the signature academy uniforms, however.
Byleth did recall a reason for this, as a notable professor around six hundred years ago had pushed for changes in the academy, resulting in a two week period every year where teaching was paused and students were allowed to leave their dormitories and visit home.
It was a change accepted under the condition that the monastery would be opened up to all visitors for a temporary time, as it would allow for tourism of a location previously only available to those affiliated with the Church of Seiros, the Officer’s Academy or the Royal Family.
When had that change occurred? It was on the 7th of the Red Wolf Moon; he remembered that well, for it was the birthday of one of his old students, but what year? 1762?? No… perhaps 1763?
“My dear, you’re thinking too hard again.” Cethleann giggled, noticing that signature pose her husband always did when he was lost in thought.
Cethleann had always found his knowledge on the Officer’s Academy’s developments to be amusingly adorable. Byleth had found entertainment in keeping up with events and changes, though perhaps part of it was wanting to preserve the academy in case of a potential closure. There was still a lingering sense of duty to the old academy, even now.
He had once suggested the idea of returning to teaching, but unfortunately had to be talked out of it. Due to living in an era of peace, his knowledge of battle and strategy were not needed anymore, and it probably wouldn’t have been a good idea for the king at the time to suddenly return to teaching. He was understandably a little saddened by it all, but he satisfied that spark by teaching his skills to his children instead.
The duo traversed through the marketplace, taking a few moments to observe the merchandise on offer. What was being sold was charming. There were little statues of the saints and other ancient heroes from the war that occurred a thousand years ago. They weren’t particularly accurate to the source material, but it was providing the children with joy, so it didn’t matter.
What they found most comical was the wigs of the legendary figures being sold. Cethleann notably observed a young girl, wearing a wig that closely resembled her old hairstyle, and a young boy, wearing one that resembled her husband’s style… which was admittedly pretty similar, for Byleth didn’t care much about changing his hair.
The young girl was eventually called away by her parents, forcing her to return the borrowed wig with a saddened expression. Surprisingly enough, her real hair wasn’t too different. It even looked… familiar. However, she left her sight quickly, returning Cethlean’s attention back to their nostalgic journey.
“Everything looks so pristine.” Byleth pointed out as they adventured through Garreg Mach Monastery.
“It does. It almost feels like we’re going to run into one of our old friends at any moment.” She chuckled.
They stopped at the Dining Hall momentarily, finding its smell intoxicatingly familiar. Were they cooking using some of the old recipes? When they stopped and bought some of the food, their suspicions were confirmed correct.
“I could cook this a little better…” Byleth amusingly said, even as he scoffed the food down. “But they probably won’t let me cook.”
“Perhaps we can ask later, when things quiet down.” Cethleann suggested, watching him eat. If only they had a third person with them… it would just be like the days of old! Her husband always did prefer to eat with two others. “Perhaps we could cook something together? I have improved my skills significantly since our days at the academy, as I am sure you are aware. Besides, it could be fun to do it in such a location.”
Taking a break from his food, Byleth nodded, definitely happier after munching on his meal and listening to his wife’s suggestion. “Of course. That’s a great idea.”
The dormitories were understandably closed off to safeguard the student’s belongings, but the fishing pond and greenhouse were open.
The former was notable, especially as they learned that a fishing competition was being held at this very moment. In fact, this tournament was being held in honor of Saint Cethleann!
“Did you know?” A tourist guide asked them, his job seemingly to chat to any random passersby. “Saint Cethleann, who went by the name of Flaym at the time-”
“ Flayn ”, Cethleann corrected him hastily.
“Ah, yes, sorry.” He awkwardly apologized. He was a young lad who definitely looked new to the job, so Cethleann immediately felt bad for her instinctive outburst.
“Oh, my apologies, young man!” she offered her own apology with a gentle tone. “Please, don’t mind me. I would love to hear your story.”
Byleth noticed the boy was a little confused-- okay, significantly confused. It wasn’t too perplexing to figure out why, as it was probably unusual to have a woman who looked the same age as himself talk so formally, as if she was much older.
Cethleann had certainly matured a fair amount physically during their long absence from Garreg Mach, but she still retained her youthfulness. He wasn't too different either.
“Um, yes, of course.” He continued, clearing his throat. “They say that Saint Cethleann noticed that many in the Officer’s Academy were distressed, for she had only just been rescued from a kidnapping. What if this dangerous assailant returned? Saint Cethleann, in her infinite wisdom, proposed an idea to boost everyone’s spirits in the form of a fishing competition. It is even said that the former king of Fódlan himself, Byleth, won this competition and it was how the two fell in love. It’s a very romantic tale!”
“I see… I see…” Cethleann listened intently, though she was finding the story a little amusing with its consistent but minor inaccuracies, as well as its exaggerations. She was very entertained though and the boy noticed, increasing the dramatic tone of his voice.
What she didn’t notice for a while was that Byleth had left her side.
She pondered as to why, but she quickly figured it out.
He was signing up for the fishing competition.
Of course he was.
There weren’t many participants, and many of them weren’t experienced either, making it easy for Byleth to show off his skills and become the star of the show.
Cethleann watched eagerly along with the small newly-formed crowd, watching her husband utilise all the fishing skills he had learned over the countless years in the place where they were first born.
It was mesmerising. It was like she had been transported back to the past, watching an event replay itself. The monastery being fully intact certainly helped that feeling too.
She wasn’t surprised in the slightest to hear he had won.
There wasn’t any prize, for it was meant to be a fun event that retold a story of old, but Byleth was still rewarded in a different way, for his wife wore the warmest of smiles when he returned to her side.
“I can’t believe you actually did that! I also can’t believe how fun it was to watch you too!” She chuckled, noticing how much of a sweat he had worked up. “Did you miss fishing that much? I know we haven’t done it in a few weeks, but...”
“My love, do you remember when I first realized I was falling in love with you?” He asked, taking advantage of her pause.
“Yes, I do, it was--” she started excitedly, but she shut herself up quickly. So that’s why he was so eager to participate! “Oh my… how did I not realize?”
“It was during this very same tournament, all those years ago.” He answered, even if she had already figured it out. Cethleann couldn’t control the blush on her face, recalling the tournament that took place over a thousand years ago. She remembered how flustered she was internally as she watched her new professor fish with all his might, daydreaming that perhaps he was putting all this effort in to impress her.
Back then, it was certainly a childish schoolgirl-like crush, a result of the professor being the hero who rescued her from the grasp of the Death Knight. But her crush had persisted and blossomed into true love.
“I remember your smile from back then.” He continued, snapping her out of her thoughts. “I wanted to experience it again. I wanted to win, just to see that look of awe on your face once more.”
“My love…” she muttered, finding it a little difficult to speak. He was on the brink of leaving her speechless, for his words had made her heart skip a beat… or maybe several. “I… you’ve made me… feel quite flustered...”
She wanted to say more, but was never given the chance to, as warm hands cupped her cheeks. Gazing up, she didn’t have much time to respond, for her husband planted a tender kiss onto her lips. Cethleann felt her body relax significantly, her very being melting with the embrace.
Byleth watched her pout adorably upon releasing the kiss, but he made up for it by pulling her into a hug instead. It was almost tempting to let the embrace last forever, but their nostalgia-fueled trip of Garreg Mach Monastery had only just begun.
“My dear, where would you like to go next?” Byleth asked.
The graveyard was an important part of their tour for an unexpected reason.
It was Cethleann’s suggestion, for she believed it would be a good place for them to remember those who had fallen, either from battle or from old age. After all, Garreg Mach Monastery, and Fódlan as a whole, was home to many people who meant so much to them.
Both had expected the graves of old to be cleared. In fact, it was the reason this was their first time visiting this location of the monastery, for they were either not ready to visit this place in past visits, or unable to do so due to their previous duties. They truthfully believed the graves had long since cleared.
However, they were shocked to find everything fully intact. The same amount of graves were present. The graves all recorded the same names.
Byleth was especially mesmerised by this unexpected revelation.
It had been over a thousand years after all, so any hope of these old places of memorial being intact simply had never manifested in their minds.
...and yet, his father’s grave was still here, and so was his mother’s.
The graveyard was closed off to tourists and guarded by some of the Knights of Seiros, but they weren’t as oblivious as the general public; they recognised the former king and queen, granting them access to this secluded place.
Upon acquiring information about the history of this graveyard, they were told it had been simply kept the same due to the law they had introduced. The answer made sense, but both were still shocked. To preserve the monastery was one thing, but even the old graveyard too?
Their hearts warmed upon learning that their daughter, the new queen, had made sure that no one would touch this sacred site. In fact, the guards present were some of her most trusted knights, explaining how they were recognised so quickly.
Cethleann gave her husband some time to himself. She only wished she bought something at the marketplace when she had the chance! She was certain there were some flowers on sale there...
She did not have much interaction with Jeralt, something she partly regretted, but at the same time she had no idea Byleth would end up being such a big part of her life at the time. She wasn’t even aware about how similar the two really were at the time either.
Byleth kneeled in front of the grave, remembering everything about his father. It had been so long since his death, but he had never forgotten the face of his father. He had never forgotten the faces of anyone from that era, in fact.
He spent some time in front of his mother’s grave too. While he never did have the opportunity to meet her, he had heard many stories about her by this point. She was the reason he was here now, not just because she was the one who birthed him, but because she sacrificed her own life so he could live.
Sothis. Her name entered his mind.
It was strange to say he missed her, because sometimes he believed she was still around, characteristically teasing him from the shadows. He was never sure if her presence was a figment of his imagination or not, however.
He remembered telling Cethleann about it. She merely asked if it helped make him feel at ease, believing she was watching over him. Whether she actually was or not didn’t matter. He had responded with a simple nod.
“Cethleann,” he called out to his wife, finally freeing himself from his thoughts. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Mmmhmm, just one moment.” She answered. He noticed his wife had her hands clapped together and her eyes were closed.
She was praying.
“May Sir Jeralt and the Progenitor God, Sothis, continue to rest in tranquility. May they both continue to watch over us from afar, keeping us safe at all times.” she spoke softly. “May our countless friends who passed from either battle or time be their vanguard, safeguarding us and this precious world from calamity.”
Byleth wasn’t one to cry often, but he was close to doing so now.
“Cethleann… you didn’t have to do that…” he muttered, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a thankful hug.
The saint snuggled up to her husband, giggling a little. “It brought you comfort, did it not? And… it brought me comfort too.”
“Then allow me to at least return the favor.” He told her, clearing his throat. “I pray that your mother too is watching us alongside them. I have no doubt she is incredibly proud of you.”
“...you really do know how to pull on those heartstrings, don’t you?” Cethleann resisted the urge to cry herself. “If my father was here, you would make him cry with a comment like that, you know that?”
“Cichol? Crying? I don’t think I’ve seen him cry that often, even in our long lives.” Byleth laughed a little.
Joining him in his chuckling for a little, Cethleann eventually continued. “He can be quite the baby when around me. Whenever you’re around though, he tries to keep his composure a lot more. He doesn’t want you, the man he respects the most, to think he’s been growing soft!”
“There’s nothing wrong with growing soft in times of peace.” Byleth shared his input. “I dare say I’ve been growing soft myself. That fishing tournament earlier was the most exercise I’ve gotten in all week.”
She giggled, looking up at him as he simultaneously gazed down at her. The guards had given them some privacy, so the two exchanged a long kiss, safe from the eyes of any but their own. Once the kiss came to its natural conclusion, they cuddled for a few more moments, before eventually saying their farewells to the deceased and departing.
It was almost tempting to head to the cathedral next, for it was close, but Byleth suggested another important visit that they should make first.
The old classrooms.
Understandably, the interior was closed off to the general public, but the Knights of Seiros granted them access in a similar fashion to how they were able to enter the graveyard. This allowed them to return to a very special place.
It hadn’t been the first time they had revisited their house’s quarters, but it still felt as magical as ever.
Cethleann watched Byleth instinctively head to the front, as if his body remembered his teaching days and had guided him there subconsciously. She giggled in amusement, which snapped him out of his unknowing trance. He was a little embarrassed, but that feeling was quickly replaced by a feeling of serenity. It felt wonderful to overlook the room from behind this particular desk, even if there were no students to teach.
Well, there was one.
While her husband was daydreaming a little, Cethleann had guided herself to a seat and had raised her hand.
“Professor Byleth, I have a question!” She asked excitedly.
The roleplay was unexpected, but he couldn’t help but smile greatly. “What is it, Cethleann?”
“...Cethleann? Surely you did not mistake me for the saint herself, dear professor!” His wife giggled at him, answering the same way she probably would back then. “Why, I look nothing like her!”
“Of course, my apologies, Flayn. I was at the cathedral earlier, so the saints’ names are on my mind.” He offered a quickly thought explanation. “What do you need from me?”
“Would you be able to tutor me in Faith after this lecture?” She humbly asked. “I would like to discuss my progress with you, and I believe you can aid me.”
“I’d be happy to.”
There was a brief moment of silence before Cethleann burst out laughing, though she shared the same smile that he did.
“That… was amusing.” she summarized, standing up to return to her husband’s side. “But… it felt nice. I do miss those days.”
“So do I, my dear.”
Nostalgia was a blessing as much as it was a curse. It could strike unexpectedly, but the two had learned to overcome the bad that came with it. They embraced each other with a warm, reassuring hug, cleansing both of that nagging desire to relive something they could not. They held each other for some time, but eventually they remembered there was still one final part of the tour.
The cathedral was the last stop on their journey.
It was notably packed with tourists, which wouldn’t usually be a bad thing...
...if there weren’t massive paintings of both of them in the distance, easily visible from even the entrance.
Those were new.
It wasn’t too surprising, for their rule was a beloved one. A law wouldn’t stop the most devoted from paying their tribute.
Truthfully, the retired royal couple wouldn’t have minded the gesture either, but the current circumstances meant there was a chance that somebody could cause a scene if their presence was fully noticed.
Thankfully, the large crowd made it easy to stay concealed. Their destination was the four statues of the saints, located a little out of the way in a separate room.
Surprisingly, one of the tour guides present in this location was surrounded by a handful of kids, who were listening intensely to the story the guide was telling. Their parents stood at the sidelines, watching while bickering amongst each other.
“Kids, who do we owe this era of peace to?” The guide asked them.
“King Byleth, the Ruler of Dawn! He’s so cool!” One kid excitedly replied.
“No, it was Saint Cethleann!” The other, a young girl argued. Cethleann herself watched this child with curiosity. Had she seen this girl before?
“You’re both right.” The guide told them. “King Byleth helped make sure all the evil of Fódlan was dealt with, while Saint Cethleann-”
“She helped the people! They were still scared and hurt, and she made them feel better!” The girl shared her enthusiasm and knowledge.
“You’re right! You know a lot about Saint Cethleann, don’t you?” The guide matched their energy by using a delighted tone.
“Yes! My mamma tells me my great, great, great, uhm… super great grandfather knew her!”
Cethleann was curious before, but now she was truly intrigued. She thought about it for a while, wondering who the girl could be descended from, but upon noticing that particular shade of hair color, it was almost too obvious. It matched her friend of old, Linhardt.
“Hey, Cethleann…” Byleth whispered. “If that kid is telling the truth, do you think that’s Linhardt’s descendant?”
She smiled upon learning her husband had reached the same conclusion. “I think so. It makes me happy knowing the bloodline of Hevring continues. It is quaint to know that I shall forever be a part of them.”
“She’s certainly more outwardly enthusiastic than Linhardt was, though.” He chuckled quietly.
The tour guide continued their story, talking about how Fódlan entered an era of peace. She spoke fondly of both the old king and queen, which was a little bizarre to hear from their perspective, but it was pleasant to hear how accurate history had remained. Eventually, their tour continued, with many of the children and parents heading off with the guide.
But the girl stayed, observing the perfectly preserved statue of Saint Cethleann.
“Come on dear! We don’t want to lose them.” An older woman, presumingly the child’s mother, tried to convince her to leave.
“But I wanted to pray!” the girl confessed. “They say if you pray to the statues enough, the saint will visit you! I want to meet Saint Cethleann!”
“Those are just legends, my dear.” the woman told her child, though it was clear she didn’t want to ruin the kid’s fun, so she spoke gently. “Besides, you may have a chance to see Saint Cethleann next week. The old king and queen are scheduled to attend the Millennium Festival.”
“But I want to talk to her…”
Cethleann couldn’t resist her urges anymore. She still didn’t want to expose their identities, but she saw a wonderful opportunity to make a child’s day. She wanted to take it. She looked up at Byleth for his advice. He gave it with a smile and a firm nod, which she returned.
“Excuse me, but you said you wished to meet Saint Cethleann, did you not?” The saint called out to them, grabbing the attention of both the child and the mother.
The mother looked a little confused, but a smile grew on her face. “Would you look at that? Maybe you were right, my dear. Saint Cethleann has visited us.”
The child was astonished. She was frozen still as her eyes darted up and down, analysing the appearance of the person who had approached them. Cethleann saw much in her eyes, but what she noticed the most was that this child had certainly recognised her.
“...are you… you really… Saint Cethleann?” the child asked hesitantly.
“Yes! I heard you calling to me!” Cethleann was having too much fun with this.
As the child continued to struggle to form words, the mother had manuerved closer to Byleth. “Thank you for this. To think two people dressed up as the old king and old queen would show up… I am eternally grateful.” She spoke quietly.
“Ah, uhm, yes, no problem. Glad to help.” Byleth stuttered a little, learning why the mother had reacted in the unusual way she did.
“Mama! Mama!” The child excitedly yelled. “Can you take a photo of me with the saint? Please, please!”
“Of course, dear.” The mother chuckled, a warm smile planted on her face thanks to her daughter’s enthusiasm.
Byleth was provided with Cethleann’s camera, for she too desired a photo. He wasn’t as familiar with the device as she was, but he recalled all the information he needed quickly, for he secretly wanted that photo too. Why? Because he would never say no to capturing his wife’s serene smile on camera, and right now, it was radiating magnificently.
After the photo had been taken, the couple noticed the child had overcome her nerves and was jumping around joyfully. “Now say thank you to Saint Cethleann, darling.” the mother instructed her.
“Thank you, Saint Cethleann!”
The mother left with her child, who was now in an excited and giddy mood, skipping away without a care in the world.
“You have always been so compassionate for people, especially children.” Byleth noted, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. They were the only ones left observing the saints at the moment, so this tender moment would likely only last temporarily, but they didn’t mind.
“When I see a smile like that… It is a reminder that we have succeeded. We live in a truly wonderful world now. Just knowing children can be so carefree without any fear… it makes me so happy.” Cethleann responded, humming gently as she sunk into her husband’s warmth once more.
“You’ve done a fantastic job, not just for them, but for the Nabateans as well.” Byleth added, holding his wife a little closer.
“There may not be many of us left, but to know we can engage with society normally, without the eventual need to vanish to mimic an ordinary life’s death… it is wonderful!” Cethleann colorfully explained. “To be able to use my true name once more, and not have to hide my ears as well! It feels splendid.”
Byleth listened closely, adoring how cheerful she sounded. “I must admit, I sometimes do miss calling you Flayn.”
“I do not blame you,” she giggled happily. “You are more than welcome to use it again if you like.”
“No, there is no need. You are Cethleann.” He spoke seriously. “That is your true name, and I will continue to call you it, my love.”
“Almost a thousand years later… and I still feel goosebumps when you call me by my name with such a tone…” She admitted, chuckling to herself after.
There wasn’t much opportunity to continue the conversation, as another tourist guide, along with a new collection of people, began to enter the room of the saints.
The two made their exit, finishing their tour of Garreg Mach Monastery. It was a journey of nostalgia, reflection, and happiness. It was certainly going to be a day they would never forget either.
They had come so far in their long lives and accomplished so much. This journey alone was a reminder of all they had accomplished, and that even in their retired lives, they still retained that drive to bring happiness to all.
“My dear, how about we go see if they’ll let us cook at the Dining Hall?” Cethleann suggested.
“That sounds like a splendid idea, my love.”
