Chapter Text
The land of Fódlan was vast, boisterous in many ways. Despite the territorial divides, both common and noble folk alike could gather in one neutral place: Garreg Mach Monastery. Grandiose and nearly 1000 years old, the Church of Seiros acted as a mediator across the whole land, providing education & jobs for its people as they prayed for the blessings of the goddess.
Today would see the start of a new chapter in Fódlan’s long history.
------
An inhale through the nose, and then two exhales out of the mouth. She had taught herself this simple breathing exercise to keep her nerves in check while masking her presence. It had reached the point of autonomy where she did it naturally, even when surrounded by comrades.
The Knights of Seiros- a branch of them, to be specific -had returned from a successful mission. Dutiful, holy justice had been delivered, saving a network of villages from an impending beast raid. Lesser-ranked members celebrated with guffaw, thanking the goddess for her continued blessings before planning to celebrate with a good feast that evening, downing some ale with it.
For Shamir Nevrand, it meant another paycheck followed by an evening of solitude away from the crowds of Garreg Mach.
“What fortune to see you return safe and sound, my good friends!” Alois, acting leader to the Knights, waved to the returning soldiers with his large hands. “Was your mission a successful one?”
“Of course.” Thunderbrand’s wielder, Catherine, spoke with enough energy to match his own. “I killed enough wolves this week to feed the students for a month!”
“How are things faring here?” Shamir replied without emotion.
At that Alois chuckled as he led the group back to the Officer’s Academy. “Well, there’s been a most exciting development for all of us. A ‘new’ captain of the Knights of Seiros has taken the post to guide us all on magnificent glory!”
Shamir stared blankly at him. “You say that as if he isn’t really new.”
“That’s because it’s Captain Jeralt, Shamir! He’s returned with his son, whom we thought he lost long ago!”
“Jeralt is back?” Catherine was surprised. “Lady Rhea said he left the monastery twenty years ago.”
Heartily, Alois continued. “I found him in the woods after he saved the three house leaders from bandits. After we exchanged friendly hugs, he accepted my proposal to return to leadership of the Knights of Seiros.”
Catherine smiled. “I can’t wait to meet him.”
Alois added something more. “And not only that, his son Byleth has been hired as a professor by Lady Rhea herself! The timing was impeccable!”
How long were we gone for? Thought Shamir as the soldiers grew abuzz with talk of Jeralt’s return and a new professor to acquaint with. Whatever. As long as he doesn’t get in my way.
“I’d very much like to meet this Byleth.” Catherine jabbed in the direction of her partner. “Is he a mercenary like Shamir was?”
“Quite so, and I saw enough of his swordplay forehand to know that he is Jeralt’s next of kin without question.” Alois was brimming with enough enlightenment to infect anyone with. “Already he shows much promise, especially in Lady Rhea’s eyes. I expect he’ll hit up the training grounds soon enough.”
“How about that?” Catherine nudged Shamir with her elbow. “A new sparring partner for us!”
Shamir nodded quietly before proceeding along with the group. As Catherine and Alois, both chatterboxes, continued prattling on about the new developments, her own mind stayed clear.
One inhale, two exhales.
------
Having made visits to the Knight’s Hall and then her personal quarters, Shamir left for the dining hall. It was late hours, when less people would be around. Only those with similar mindsets, a gluttonous appetite, or specific goals like Raphael’s bodybuilding would be there. She did this often, and the other staff knew of it. It was her way to live.
Upon entry, she scanned the sights before her. A few knights here and there, Raphael on his last plate of meat, Ingrid studying in the corner, and...someone she hadn’t seen before.
A normal person would probably approach and strike a conversation to learn more about this newcomer. Instead Shamir silently prowled around the width of the room, using the pillars for cover when necessary. She could only see the man from behind, making out a handful of features: downy greenish-blue hair, armour around his shoulders, forearms, and legs, a black coat decorated with a strange symbol...and a big appetite. His plate had been cleaned of food already, looking to have previously contained large wads of meat and some fruit. Arm movements indicated he was writing something that demanded all of his focus at once.
That must be the new professor...he looks much younger than the others we’ve had…
Debating for a few moments, Shamir continued her way to the kitchen and grabbed what she needed; rarely would she consume more food than necessary. The archer had taken great pains to learn about what intake was needed for a healthy body, avoiding all else. Only once a month would she take a dessert just for recognition of having survived further.
Like Bernadetta, Shamir usually took her food back to her quarters to eat before doing some body exercises, and then turning in if nothing else required her attention. Tonight, though, something drew her to stay, even though she sat alone. It was not that she was antisocial, but as a higher-ranked Knight of Seiros who worked closely with Catherine and Alois often, Shamir valued her quiet moments greatly.
While an atheist, she still gave silent thanks for being able to continue her life steadily after Rhea took her in at her lowest. Then she grabbed her fork and began to eat, although her eyes darted elsewhere.
Seated just four metres away was Byleth, still writing away on his parchment paper. With her experience in aiming arrows, Shamir’s trained vision could make him out well: his sky-blue eyes were narrow, leading down to a small nose and pointed chin. His black garments covered him from the head down, offering decent protection backed by a small dagger carried on his person. He wore quite a lot for a teacher, likely because of his lifetime spent acting as a mercenary.
Shamir didn’t know what to make of him; he looked too focused on his writing to be bothered with conversation right now. But she swore that she saw his lips move in speech, despite there being no one around him. Was he talking to himself?
Curiosity drove Shamir to edge herself closer to him, now only two metres apart. Still he hadn’t noticed her, not even hearing her fork scrape across her plate to pick up food for consumption.
Then she heard him speak to himself again, saying something that sounded like “Shut up”. And that prompted Shamir to move even closer, breaking his concentration as she now sat less than one metre away from the man.
“Who are you talking to?” She asked inquisitively, completely forgoing introductions.
Byleth mulled over his answer before replying “Myself. I am drafting out lesson plans for my new students.”
“So you told yourself to shut up?”
Only Byleth could hear the giggling that resulted from her question, which made him bite his lip before swallowing, closing his eyes, and then opening them to start the conversation proper. “I am sorry, but who are you? It is my first day here, and I have yet to meet everyone. I am Byleth Eisner.”
Shamir fell silent for a moment before answering him. “Shamir Nevrand. I’m a Knight of Seiros, of which I believe now is under the captaincy of your father once more.” Her head tilted to one side as she quickly examined him while she was close. “Hm, I don’t see the family resemblance.”
“So most people say.” He tucked his quill and paper away, turning his body to face her more. “Well, I look forward to working with you, Miss Nevrand. I will be seeking input from the Knights as the weeks come for their expertise to help guide my students.” He took a glance down at the quiver along her waist, though only a subtle one. “You specialize in archery?”
“I can swing a lance too.” Something about this man was sending her mixed feelings. She couldn’t gauge if he was her age or not, as his features did not give a proper indication. Was he really Jeralt’s blood child?
“Then I will be sure to put you down for both of those skills.” Quickly he took his paper out to jot down an additional note...coming to a halt when he felt her gloved hand seize his wrist.
“Try anything funny while you’re here, and you may find your head missing one morning.”
As she said that, her grasp around him revealed something bizarre: no pulse. She knew exactly where to touch to feel it out and was certain to have hit that exact mark, only to get no response. What human being had no pulse? Did that mean he had no heartbeat either?
Byleth’s initial shock faded as though someone else was talking to him. His eyes fixated on hers for a moment in buildup to him speaking again. “You have my word that I will make my students and the Knights proud. My father owes much to Lady Rhea, as do you I’m sure.”
“Tch.” She released him, still puzzled over what she had discovered about this new professor. Indeed she would be keeping an eye on him. “I’ll cooperate in accordance with my duties as a Knight, but I’ll be watching you.”
“Why?”
He wasn’t intimidated in the slightest, leaving her to rarely stumble over her next words. “Because...I don’t trust you. Not yet.”
Byleth folded his arms, noticing she had done the same. “That is understandable; trust must be earned, not spoken.”
“And trust is a two-way road.”
“My work will connect that road between us, as you will see in the coming season.”
She winced at that remark; was he making a bad joke like Alois often did?
“Good night, Professor.”
“Sleep well, Miss Nevrand.”
“Call me Shamir.”
“As you say, Miss Shamir.”
“And drop the ‘miss’!”
The slight smile accompanied by his nod irritated Shamir enough to leave with her plate to return to her quarters. Once back, she finished what food remained and then set about her exercises. Throughout her limb stretches she saw Byleth’s face over and over again, which only pushed her to work harder.
Wiping herself with a towel and then dressing down for bed, Shamir swore to find out who he really was.