Chapter Text
The first thing Linhardt saw was the throne. It was a great stone throne, much larger than himself, and seemed to be intricately carved in a way he had never seen in Fodlan. Green light filtered down upon it, causing the seat to have an eerie glow. His eyes then focused on the young girl that sat upon it, dressed in dark blue with pink and white ribbons in her long, green hair. Two large, pointed ears were on either side of her head.
He stared, not sure of exactly what to do but sure that this had to be a dream. Indeed, when he looked around him on either side, the world was dark.
The girl on the throne blinked, then yawned. “Oh good, it is you Linhardt. I have been waiting for you.”
He said nothing, but his interest was piqued, surprisingly. It took a lot to get Linhardt interested in something.
She frowned as he stared. “Are you simply going to stand there like a stone?”
Linhardt took in a deep breath. “Who are you?” He began. “What am I doing here? Am I dreaming?”
The girl smiled. “I have reached out to you because of someone very special Linhardt. You do not know it, but you and her share a deep connection, a bond if you will.”
“A connection?” Linhardt was ever curious. “Are you speaking about yourself? Who are you?”
The girl looked confused. “I am... not exactly sure. It is part of why I need you your help. I need the two of you to help set me free.”
“Set you free?” Linhardt repeated, looking around. “Are you trapped here? Am I trapped here? How can you not know your own name?”
“Goodness!” The girl laughed. “You are much more talkative than the other one. It is hard to get two words out of her, though perhaps that is my doing. She is the one that you are connected with, and I am connected to her.”
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Byleth.” The girl nodded. “She is heading to Garreg Mach Monastery very soon. She will be a student there. Together you and her will fall in love and save Fodlan from disaster. I know then that this is how I shall be set free.”
“Fall in love?” Linhardt chuckled. “I don't even know this person is, and saving Fodlan from disaster sounds like a lot of hard work. I think you've made a very large mistake, girl without a name.”
She shook her head and Linhardt realized she was coming closer, floating in the darkness. The air around her shone green as well.
She was directly in front of him now, flashing a knowing grin. “You will fall in love because I have... sensed it. I might have seen it even, but I forget.” She yawned again. “My memories are... difficult to access.”
“If you'd tell me more about yourself, maybe I can help another way.” Linhardt offered. “Are you corporeal or incorporeal? Are you able to manifest yourself in the real world? Could I speak with you there? Would you allow me to do any research on-?”
The girl threw her head back and laughed. “I have forgotten how intriguing it is to converse once more with humans. She is always silent, you never stop talking. Yes, how amusing this will be.”
“Now wait just a moment!” Linhardt crossed his arms. “I never said I agreed to any of this. I don't want to save Fodlan, set anyone free or fall in love. All I want to do is lie in the sun and take long naps, conducting my research as I please.”
Now the girl looked bored. “You have no say in the matter, I'm afraid.”
“Yes I do!” Linhardt replied. “In fact, I have all the say. And I say no. Go find someone else.”
“There is no one else, Linhardt von Hevring. The two of you are soulmates.”
“Soulmates?” Linhardt laughed. “There is no such thing. Byleth was it?” He grinned. “I could probably avoid her for most of the year, especially if she's in a different house. Perhaps I won't even attend Garreg Mach this year at all.”
The girl's green eyes flashed dangerously. “If you will continue to be obstinate, I will have no other choice.”
“This is just a dream anyway, you have no power over me.” Linhardt smiled confidently.
The girl moved her hands and a large glowing circle shone out around them. Linhardt had never seen magic so complicated and tried to see what he could decipher. The Crest of Flames burned brightly in the middle. How was that possible? He had never seen magic circles using that crest before.
She grinned and the circle began to move. “If you refuse to help, I shall have to punish you.”
For the first time in his life, Linhardt was beginning to regret his earlier words. “Punish me? You can't punish me in my own dream.”
“But this isn't your dream, Linhardt.” She smiled, and he shut his eyes tightly as the magic enveloped him.
* * * *
He could feel his body beginning to wake. A nightmare, he thought, shaking his head. It was said dreams were manifestations of ideas and experiences buried deep within the subconscious, but he doubted that girl came from of any of them.
He opened his eyes and felt the light streaming through his curtains. It already appeared to be midday, which was typical for him. He didn't go to sleep until the middle of the night, if he went to sleep at all.
“Must be cloudy,” he muttered as he pulled back the curtains of his room to let in the grey light of the outside.
It was then that he realized everything outside was grey. He looked around his room in haste, everything in his entire room was grey as well. He swung his hand in front of his face. All grey. Everything. He couldn't see any colours at all.
I shall have to punish you. The girl's voice rang softly in the background.
She took away my ability to see colour - Linhardt realized in horror, as he then realized it would be almost impossible to conduct most of his research without being able to distinguish between different vials and liquids. He began to panic internally, wondering if maybe there was some other kind of explanation.
* * * *
The doctors all said the same thing. There was no medical reason as to why Linhardt was suddenly unable to see any colour. One had suggested a head injury, and Linhardt's father had berated him for that. Something about staying up too late at night, reading too many books in poor light, sleeping too much and depriving his mind of much needed fresh air.
Linhardt knew better. If there was no logical explanation to be found then the answer itself was not logical. He poured over the books in the Adrestian library, going back centuries. He finally found references to Seiros and the King of Liberation. The Crest of Flames appeared in the magic the girl used, yet she looked nothing like Nemesis, if these drawings proved accurate. The ears on her head were odd, unlike anything he had ever seen, but he wondered if that were maybe some trick of his dream.
He tapped the table restlessly. Garreg Mach had older texts and scripts he could examine. Perhaps he could even speak to some of the clergy there about this.
Well, well... he thought, it appears I will be going to the Officer's Academy after all.
* * * *
“You. Have a soulmate?” Caspar was doubled over in laughter as Linhardt stared at him impassively.
“You asked.” He replied, folding his arms. “I'm just not sure if the dream was real, or if it's some trick of my mind as it was being damaged.”
Caspar stared at him, looking at him curiously. “You know we could always ask someone about it.”
“You don't think my father dragged me around to every doctor he knew?” Linhardt replied, feeling bored with the conversation. “They all said the same thing. They've never heard of someone losing the ability to see colour.”
“People can go blind, Linhardt.” Caspar remarked.
“I know that.” Linhardt hissed. “I am not going blind. This is... much different. Much more of an... annoyance.”
Caspar looked thoughtful. “There might be someone in the town that can help.”
Linhardt looked his friend and sighed. “Like whom? Some kind of fortune teller to tell me that I've been cursed?”
“Come on Linhardt.” Caspar urged. “Don't you want to try everything?”
* * * *
As soon as they walked into the tent of the fortune teller Linhardt regretted this course of action. There was a strange haze in the air once they had lifted the cloth curtains. Because of his lack of colours it was difficult to see. He could smell different kinds of incense burning and started to feel light headed.
Caspar was looking around at everything in awe.
“Come and sit down.” A woman with a veil covering her eyes came to sit down at a table and beckoned them to join her.
Linhardt opened his mouth to speak but the woman immediately held up a hand to silence him. “It's you, isn't it? I could feel it the moment you both entered. You are very a lucky young man.”
“Lucky?” Linhardt sighed. “I wouldn't exactly call this lucky.”
“Your colours will come back to you,” The fortune teller continued. “As soon as you begin to connect with your soulmate.”
“Is it true?” Caspar blurted. “Does he really have one?”
The woman nodded. “Oh yes, and she is very close by, isn't she? I haven't felt a connection like this between two people in many, many years.”
“Wow.” Caspar looked at Linhardt, clearly impressed. “I would never have believed it.”
“I don't believe it either.” Linhardt stared at the woman and tried his best to focus despite the cloudiness in his head. “Soulmates don't exist.”
The fortune teller laughed and shook her head. “You are a strange person. Most people are overjoyed when I tell them they have a soulmate, especially someone so close by.”
Linhardt rolled his eyes. “I just need to get my colour back. That's all I care about. Do you have any idea who could have cast a spell like that on me?”
The woman shook her head no. “Only the Goddess has the power to interfere with us in such a way.”
“The Goddess. Great.” Linhardt put his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Ok, this has been... informative, but we must get going. Classes will start soon.” He reached into his pocket to bring out his purse, but the woman waved it away.
“You can't be serious.” Linhardt said. “How do you make a living without coin?”
“You are affected by the Goddess.” The fortune teller replied. “I cannot help you.”
* * * *
“So you really can't see any colour?” His friend Caspar asked him for the ninth time that hour.
“No.” Linhardt was growing bored with the conversation and desperately wanted to talk about something else. Anything else since they had arrived from the town. “Who do you think will be teaching our class this year?”
“Do you think Byleth is pretty?” Caspar continued. “Like, what do you think she looks like?”
“It doesn't matter.” Linhardt replied dully. “There is no such thing as soulmates. Byleth probably doesn't even exist.”
“Excuse me,” A quiet voice sounded behind him. “Do you know the way to the Black Eagles classroom? Some of the students over there said you were part of it.”
“Oh, yeah sure!” Caspar said, looking over Linhardt's shoulder. “I'll show you! You can call me Caspar. You must be new at the Academy this year.”
“Yes.” The girl continued. “My father will be the Black Eagle's new Professor. I'll be in your class.”
Caspar looked at Linhardt and made a motion for the young man to introduce himself but Linhardt sighed and didn't bother to turn around.
“Linhardt. Good day.”
“Linhardt? Like in the dream...?”
He whirled around to see the young woman who was speaking and gasped. Two bright, blue eyes shone out from her face. Everything else about her was grey like the rest of the world, but those eyes...
“What did you say your name was?” Linhardt asked.
“I didn't. It's Byleth.”
“You're Byleth!” Caspar almost shrieked.
Linhardt grabbed her by the wrist and immediately dragged her away from his friend. He had questions to ask... lots of questions, and he wanted to do it away from prying eyes. He chose an empty courtyard that was full of trees, and pulled her behind a large one. She kept staring at him and it made him feel a little self-conscious, but only a little.
“I have so many questions.” He began. “Do you have anything to do with why I can't see anything in colour? Who was the girl sitting on the throne? Has she ever spoken to you? Why does she say we're connected?”
It was clear on Byleth's face that she was having difficulty in processing this barrage of inquiries. She looked over at his hands on her shoulders and he released her, not realizing he had been holding her in the first place.
“Sorry.” He sighed. “Maybe- ...maybe we can speak later.”
Byleth nodded and started to walk away. Linhardt watched her go, his mind wandering back to Caspar asking him earlier if he thought Byleth was pretty. Yes, she was very pretty.
* * * *
While his days were spent in the classroom, trying to make it through the lectures without falling asleep, his nights were busily spent in the Garreg Mach library searching for anything that might match his condition, or the strange girl on the throne from his dream.
He had never really gotten around to speaking to Byleth. This wasn't from a lack of trying, but her availability was difficult to predict. She spent a lot of time training with her sword fighting and the arena was the last place Linhardt wanted to be. He had once ventured too close to catch a glimpse of her going through her routine and became transfixed by the way she moved. Ferdinand had taken this to mean that Linhardt himself secretly wanted to train and had chased him all the way back to the dormitories.
Once he saw her in the kitchens trying to cook with a student from the Blue Lions house, Ashe. Again, cooking was not close to something Linhardt knew or desired to know so he stayed away.
It was all becoming quite bothersome. Without any access to Byleth he was left to make his own deductions and conduct his research by himself.
It wasn't really fair to pin all these woes on Byleth. She was after all, just as much a victim of the girl on the throne as he was. Perhaps more so. Or perhaps all of them were merely pawns of something larger, something more sinister.
He needed more information, more clues. The famed library at Garreg Mach was sadly lacking in such things. When he had asked the librarian if he had any information on the founding years of Fodlan, the man had winked at him and said he would see what he could procure. Why this wasn't just in the general knowledge section Linhardt would never know.
* * * *
“I said to pass me the red flask please, Linhardt.” Manuela repeated as the class all stood and stared at him.
“And I asked you very nicely to tell me which one that was.” Linhardt pointed to the tall cabinet that contained a multitude of flasks and vials. All the liquid within them looked different shades of grey.
Why did he bother coming to these classes again? It was bad enough that they started early in the morning, but to expect him to participate was asking a bit much.
“The red one.” His teacher repeated. “There is only one that is red.”
Linhardt didn't move and people around him started to snicker. He saw Byleth peering out at him from behind several students. Her bright blue eyes shone and he suddenly felt very self-conscious, his ears growing hot.
Manuela was quickly losing her patience. “Come now Linhardt, what is wrong? Can you not see the colours right in front of you?”
“No.” Again, snickering erupted around him as though his fellow students thought he was either playing a prank on their instructor or was just that lazy.
“I'll get it for him Professor!” Caspar walked over to the cabinet and procured the liquid.
“Thank you, Caspar!” Manuela replied, sounding relieved as he handed it to her. “Now, let's observe the properties of this when poured over a plant like so-”
* * * *
“I'm sorry about that.” Byleth said, coming over to talk to Linhardt in the hallway after class.
“Manuela's class?” Linhardt smiled. “It is kind of amusing to think about it in hindsight. No one believes me when I tell them I'm colourblind. No one except Caspar.”
He looked over at her. “And yourself, I suppose.”
“She told me that you can't see any colours right now.”
“Who told you?” Linhardt raised an eyebrow. “That girl with the green hair?”
Byleth nodded. “I can... see her sometimes but no one else can. She just sort of... floats around me.”
Linhardt stopped dead in his tracks. “You can see her? Here in the real world?”
“It's... more like feeling?” Byleth seemed to have trouble with her words. “Sometimes she's very clear though.”
“Fascinating.” Linhardt had never been so interested in anything in his life. “You don't think we could have that talk now, do you?”
“What?” Byleth blinked. “We still have class this afternoon.”
Linhardt chuckled then realized she was serious. “Oh, come now Byleth, I think your father would forgive you. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.” He took her wrist again and began to lead her back to his room.
“Linhardt... wait!” Byleth was able to free herself surprisingly easily. “We can talk after classes end, all right?”
“All right.” Linhardt sighed. “I'm not going though. I'm going to go and have a nap. Excuse me.”
* * * *
Upon returning to his room he collapsed into his bed and fell into a restless slumber. Even his dreams were in black and white, (much to his annoyance) and it was hard to truly rest.
There was a knock on his door.
“Hmmm?” He opened the door, wondering who could be calling on him and was surprised to see it was Byleth.
“Oh, Byleth.” He blinked, his eyes immediately going to her shining blue orbs, and as the only colour he could see, he couldn't look away. She gave a slight cough and held up a stack of papers.
“What's that?” Linhardt asked.
“The notes from the class today that you missed.” Byleth passed them off to him.
“You took these notes?” Linhardt gave a small smile. This should be good, he thought, picking one up. Let's see how well the mercenary can write.
She had a surprisingly large vocabulary and there were only a few words that were misspelled, most likely on purpose to save time while she wrote. Her hand-writing was a bit messy, but still very legible. He was impressed.
“Would you like to come in?” Linhardt asked, expecting her to refuse but pleasantly surprised when she entered like it was her own quarters.
Linhardt shut the door behind them and motioned for her to sit at the small table he had in a corner.
“Could we try talking again now?” He gave a small smile. “After all, that is why you came all this way to bring me my notes, right?”
“I don't want you to fail your classes Linhardt.” Byleth answered, and her cheeks darkened slightly.
Perhaps in a blush? Linhardt thought. Most intriguing.
“You're worried about me?” He gave a small laugh. “Byleth, you don't need to worry about how I do academically. I'll do just fine.”
“She said... I needed to look out for you.” Byleth continued. “She told me I'd need to protect you because you were my...” Her cheeks darkened again. “...My soulmate.”
“Soulmate?” Linhardt started laughing. “Don't listen to the green-haired girl Byleth, soulmates don't actually exist.”
“Then why is the world grey except for your eyes?” Byleth asked, peering at them.
“Wait.” Linhardt put the notes down and sat down on the bed across from Byleth. “You can't see any colour in the world either?”
She shook her head.
“Oh.” Linhardt didn't realize Byleth was also in the same situation as he was. “I thought it was just myself.”
Then a thought struck him. “How long have you been unable to see colour?”
Byleth blinked like it was a strange question. “Never. I can see the girl in my dreams in full colour though, and you. In my dreams, that is.”
She reached out to him and he stayed still while her hands lightly touched his hair. “I know this is supposed to be green.” She threaded her fingers through his long bangs and he looked at her, completely fascinated.
For the first time, Linhardt realized that Byleth was just as much a victim of this mysterious person as he was himself. Maybe together they could find the answers to his questions.
There was a flicker of light. For a brief instant, the entire room lit up around him and he was able to see everything in vibrant colour. Byleth's hair was blue, like her eyes, her skin pale, though not as pale as his own. The books around him were brown.
Then the burst of light began fading, the colours retreating into the monotonous greys he was getting familiar with.
“Did you see that?” Byleth asked, looking around the room in awe.
“Hmmmm.” Linhardt was deep in thought.
Many questions indeed.