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Ingrid was the first to go. She had taken up Lúin and chose to restore House Daphnel on her own terms. For her efforts, she died in battle against Almyrans. Byleth had seen the body; she had definitely died a knight’s death. Ingrid left behind a child, a two year old son who bore the Minor Crest of Daphnel. Nobles of other houses saw this as Daphnel’s new salvation, but Byleth only saw tragedy, and could only watch as the boy lived his mother’s woes.
Ashe was next. He too became a knight, though he did not die in battle. His death was quiet, slow. Centuries later, as time and technology marched on, Byleth would hear the phrase “autoimmune disease” and realize that had taken her student all those centuries ago, the stress of Ashe constantly pushing himself to fight harder, of injuries and sepsis and a constant stream of white magic, had turned the knight’s body against him. At the time, however, it was simply an incurable fatigue, and all Ashe’s friends and family could do was watch him slowly waste away.
Next was Felix and Sylvain. The same day Felix was slain trying to put down a violent uprising, Sylvain was struck with chest pain and collapsed in his home. Felix left no heirs, legitimate or otherwise, and with him ended House Fraldarius. The same could not be said of Sylvain, who left behind a complicated web of legitimate and illegitimate heirs. In the end, it was an illegitimate son born with a Major Crest of Gautier who picked up the Lance of Ruin.
The fifth to go was Dimitri. He was remembered as a good king who had ushered in a new era, a national hero for all of Faerghus, but Byleth knew he had only begun to achieve what he wanted to achieve. With his death, the kingdom’s leadership was thrown into turmoil, for he and Byleth had not produced an heir. The people had hoped he would father a new era for the Faerghus Royal Family, but history would remember him as the heroic swan song of the Balddiyd lineage. It was not for lack of trying, but Byleth found herself unable to carry a child, and Dimitri refused to take another consort. Publicly he had died of illness, but Byleth suspected otherwise. She had left for a diplomatic mission to Dagda, and her ship had not made landfall before news of her husband’s death had reached her. Byleth knew this was not coincidence.
After him was Mercedes. She had made a name for herself as a healer and a priestess of the Church of Seiros, beloved by all who knew her as a beacon of hope in unstable times. She had died on the front lines of battle, not against man, but against a disease that threatened to sweep through unified Fódlan. Thanks to her and her team, though, the threat never came to pass. In a century's time, when the church decided to expand its roster of saints, she was the only unanimous vote. Byleth watched, though, as her memory was eroded away to only the bits that made a good martyr, and as wicked politicians and greedy bishops took her name in vain. In two centuries, it would be considered sacrilege to believe that Saint Mercedes used to forget to wear underwear, or would tell ghost stories at night, or that she sometimes stole away with her professor at Garreg Mach to share teacakes and kisses.
Next was Dedue. He had spent the second half of his life in lonely vigil to a dead king, leaving Byleth to handle decades of political turmoil. She didn't know whether she could forgive him. Still, she found his company comforting as the world she grew up in began to die off and make way for a new era. Within his lifetime, he saw activists of the people of Duscar, fighting for reparations, respect, and freedom. Dedue was not among them, though Byleth would find out that he had saved the lives of the fathers and grandfathers of those activists back in his school days.
Annette was the last. Byleth watched, bittersweet, as her hair turned gray and her back turned crooked and her smiles grew into wrinkles. She had taken a position in the Sorcerer’s Academy, and had risen quickly through the ranks; she was headmaster while Dimitri still lived. When Byleth retired from public life Annette offered her a part time teaching position and a forged identity, one that Byleth took with caution but gratitude. One day, though, in the middle of tea with Byleth, Annette too went to join her classmates. Her legacy was a quiet one, a piece of trivia pertaining to Mercedes and Dimitri.
And then, Byleth was alone.