Dark Abyss

Chapter 1: The New Professor


"Your heart has made its choice, then."

The mysterious woman before him had done nothing but grace him with an almost radiating warmth. Even now, as she spoke, the archbishop's voice carried with it a sense of peace and serenity.

However, his father had warned him about her, and the words of his father were not to be taken lightly.

"All I ask is that you guide these open minds with virtue, care, and sincerity."

Lady Rhea smiled, as though she expected nothing less from Byleth regardless of her request. It was as though she knew him, perhaps better than even he knew himself.

The man beside her, on the other hand, who was strikingly similar in appearance to the archbishop, did not seem so convinced.

His frown deepened, and his brows were furrowed. Seteth, as he was called, did not seem to trust Byleth in the least. Ironically, Byleth found himself trusting Seteth far more easily than he did Lady Rhea.

As a mercenary, trust was something not so easily earned. The many men and women in his father's corps had earned that trust over the span of many years, and even more grueling battles. It went without saying that Byleth had learned to trust his clients even less, lest they attempt to weasel their way out of a deal.

"They are all promising youths who bear the weight of Fódlan's future upon their shoulders. I hope you appreciate what an honor it is to lead them."

That remained to be seen, thought Byleth. It was an honor to lead his father's mercenaries, because they were diligent and dependable soldiers. Unless his students proved to be the same, he would find no honor in associating with them.

There was no use for bumbling, incompetent fools in positions of power. In fact, the only use Byleth could see for such individuals were as sources of easy money.

Nevertheless, he nodded, seemingly in agreeance with Seteth's words. It would not do to make a poor impression on the people supplying his monthly income.

Almost immediatly, the sound of soft footsteps reached his ears. A young girl had entered the audience chamber, and approached them curiously.

"Brother? Oh! I am so sincerely sorry! I did not mean to interrupt."

Seteth's stern countenance vanished almost instantly, replaced by a loving one, even if the words he spoke came out in stark contrast to the expression he wore.

"I am in the middle of something, Flayn. Is it urgent?"

Perhaps it was an example of familial love, Byleth pondered, in which an older brother would pretend to be annoyed by their younger sibling despite holding obvious affection for them. He had heard of it during his travels, mostly from some of his father's troops.

"No, no, it is nothing." replied the green-haired girl. "More importantly…" she continued, now turning her eyes toward Byleth. "Who is this?"

Allowing no time for a reply, Seteth quickly elaborated.

"This is our newest professor at the academy."

"Oh my!" exclaimed Flayn. "A new addition to the Officers Academy! I am so very pleased to meet you, Professor."

She bowed at the waist; the curls of her hair swinging forward as she did so.

"I am Seteth's little sister, Flayn. I am so happy to make your acquaintance."

Byleth was about to reciprocate when, yet again, Seteth interrupted. The man must be quite overprotective of his sister, because surely his voice could not be that grating to hear.

"Let us focus on the topic at hand. There is something that you should be aware of."

His frown was back in place, and he looked at Byleth with the utmost sincerity.

"In a few days' time, there will be a mock battle between the three houses, intended to gauge the current progress of the students."

He paused deliberately.

"We will be using this battle as an opportunity to ascertain your own abilities as well. Please do not disappoint the archbishop. That is all."

With nothing more to say, the archbishop's advisor excused himself and exited the chamber; his little sister in tow.

Lady Rhea had not stopped smiling, despite the stiff exchange. She even seemed to derive some amusement from it, unless he was mistaken. However, she too proceeded to excuse herself, although it was more of a dismissal disguised as such.

Byleth had enough experience with his father to recognize such a thing for what it was.

He bowed, as did the two other professors – colleagues, he corrected himself – and left. In any case, it was probably for the best, as he now had to break the news to the Black Eagles.

Byleth had a long day ahead of him.


"Professor! I did not think to see you back here so soon."

Tomas smiled kindly; his eyes holding a knowing twinkle. Ever since Byleth had first come across the library, its resident librarian had gone out of his way to make him feel welcome. Even now, at the crack of dawn, the old man was here to greet him.

Byleth nodded in response.

"Crests." he supplied, while taking a seat by one of the wooden tables. "I wish to learn more about them."

If Tomas was surprised, he hid it well. However, that did not stop him from inquiring further.

"Crests? Only last night you were nose-deep in a book about the history of the Church of Seiros. Why the sudden change, if I may ask?"

"Apparently I possess an unidentified crest. Professor von Essar has already claimed vials of my blood and several strands of my hair. Thus far, none of his efforts have born fruit."

Apparently, that explanation had been worthy of a pair of raised eyebrows. Perhaps he should have withheld that information, thought Byleth. Then again, he knew fleetingly little of crests, and much less what he should or should not reveal.

"I see." replied Tomas. He now appeared deep in thought, before scurrying off to the back of the library.

"Just a moment." he called out, and disappeared behind one of the bookshelves, no doubt in search of some ancient, obscure tome on crests.

Tomas was helpful like that.

In the meantime, Byleth drew up his notes for tommorow's lecture. According to Edelgard, he had hit it off well with the students. With the exception of Linhardt, the lazy, ever-drowsy member of his class, most of them had shown interest in him and looked forward to seeing what he could teach them.

With that in mind, he had gone over different topics that would be of benefit to his students. Having gauged their behavior over the last day, Byleth decided to cross out the first line on his list.

'Ten efficient ways to kill' seemed like something more fit for the future. He would be remiss if his students were put off because of poor pacing.

"A good idea, Professor."

Tomas had returned, and quite silently at that. Byleth was confident in his senses, and for an old man to catch him by surprise was rather shameful.

With a dull thud, the librarian set down a huge, black book covered in leather straps. Torn and wrinkled bits of paper were peeking out from between the covers, and for all intents and purposes, it most certainly looked like an ancient, obscure tome.

On the front, Byleth could barely make out the remnants of what had to be the title of the book. Sadly, it was illegible, not only because the ink had faded away, but because he did not recognize the language.

"I'm afraid it is of unknown origin, and mostly incomprehensible. Inside, however, are depictions of the largest collection of crests known to mankind, with a few notes attached. Mayhap there is something yet of use amongst those withered pages."

Byleth nodded gratefully. In all honesty, he had expected less.

"Thank you, Tomas."

The old man shook his head.

"Think nothing of it. It brings me joy to aid such a studious youth as yourself in the pursuit of knowledge."


The Crest of Flames.

Unlikely though it may be, it was the closest match he could find to the incomplete and distorted image produced by Hanneman's apparatus.

Byleth traced the picture of the crest with his fingers, slightly irked that Tomas had managed to answer the question Hanneman presumably needed another pint of his blood for.

Along with a sample of his flesh.

Then again, he was being slightly unfair toward his fellow professor. Without Hanneman, he would not have had anything to go by at all.

Byleth sighed uncharacteristically, and closed the massive book. He was still not entirely convinced that his crest was truly the Crest of Flames, but he felt an unexplicable sense of familiarity when looking upon it.

"As do I."

He fought the urge to jump.

She was awake.

"And you could stand to sound more happy about it!"

Ever since she had turned back time, allowing Byleth to escape a most untimely death, Sothis had been napping.

"Recovering from the use of magic beyond your comprehension."

Which, in turn, had given him an entire day of blissful silence and tranquility.

"Byleth…"

He did not apologize, but decided to stop antagonizing the irate, little girl. She had saved his life, after all, which he was grateful for, and provided questionable entertainment to boot.

"I shall ignore the first and last part of that thought. Now, that book… I do not like the feeling of it."

Byleth had stuffed it under his arm, and was currently headed out of the library and into the hallway of the faculty floor. It was true that it looked rather gruesome, but beyond that, it was just an ordinary book.

He did not see any reason for Sothis to find it so unsettling.

"I cannot explain it! It is… icky."

Pondering that statement, Byleth nodded idly to a passing student – Ignatz, if he recalled correctly.

Only a short walk down the stairs, and he found himself in the monastery's courtyard. The sun shone brightly, high above the horizon, and he deduced that it must be around midday.

As one would expect, students roamed the grounds, most of them heading in the same direction.

"Professor! Headed to the dining hall?"

He looked over his shoulder and spotted Edelgard, who approached him with a smile on her face. Much like when they had first met, she wore her academy uniform. However, Byleth noticed that she had styled her hair in a slightly different manner.

"Miss Hresvelg." he greeted, before shaking his head. "I'm afraid not. I was meaning to return to my quarters."

"Oh, that's unfortunate." she said, her smile fading slightly. "I was hoping to share a meal with the person who not only saved my life, but is to be my teacher as well."

"See? That is how you show proper gratitude."

"I see." replied Byleth. "In that case, it would be rude of me to turn down your invitation."

"Ah!" exclaimed Edelgard, her cheeks growing rosy. "That is, if you're not occupied with any other duties, of course."

He shook his head, already falling into step alongside her.

They soon passed the students' dormitories, where his own last-minute quarters were situated. With that in mind, and an increasingly heavy load under his arm, Byleth decided to make a quick detour.

"A moment, Miss Hresvelg. I do not wish to carry this book around with me for the entire day."

Edelgard started, finally noticing what he had been carrying. Her blush grew more pronounced, even as she stammered her apologies for failing to take Byleth's situation into consideration.

Within the confines of his mind, Sothis snickered.

"Oh, dear. She is completely smitten with you, the poor girl!"

He had no idea what she was on about.


"This smells delicious."

Byleth nodded, setting his own portion of roasted pheasant down on the table. In addition to the main course, Edelgard had also acquired for herself a large cup of peach sorbet.

As she ordered the dessert, she had given both himself and the chef a pointed stare. He did not understand why, but the chef had gulped nervously and scrambled hastily to fulfill the princess' request.

"It does. A marked improvement over the usual rations."

"Rations?" asked Edelgard, taking a delicate bite out of her pheasant.

"A mercenary is always on the move. There is a distinct lack of time and facilities for… gourmet meals."

Indeed, most of his meals consisted of small amounts of food, which were rich in energy. Either that, or meat procured in late-night hunts.

Being used to bland and stale food, Byleth had actually been apprehensive about suddenly changing his eating habits. If the academy's meals did not go well with his stomach, he would be in for a most troublesome term.

"Oh. I wouldn't know, given my… upbringing." said Edelgard, sounding almost disappointed by the fact.

Personally, Byleth did not believe she should lament the lack of rations in her life.

"What's that about your upbringing, Edelgard?" asked a boisterous yet cultured voice, cutting clearly through the sound of chattering students and clattering tableware.

He struggled not to groan.

It was Ferdinand von Aegir, the eldest son and heir of House Aegir. The boy had made sure to let him know when he was familiarizing himself with the monastery's students.

Ferdinand reached down, drawing a seat for himself next to Byleth. In the corner of his eye, the boy's ginger hair flashed brightly, and Byleth could not help but be reminded of a bee.

"This simply won't do! I cannot allow you to hog our new professor's time all to yourself."

His eyes widened suddenly, as he seemed to come to a realization.

"You wouldn't be trying to curry favor with the professor already, would you, Edelgard?"

Said girl pinched the bridge of her nose, failing to hide her exasperation.

"Ferdinand." she began. "Unless you have something productive to add to the conversation…"

That seemed to shake the boy out of his stupor. His eyes settled into a determined expression, and he met Byleth's gaze.

"Yes, that reminds me." he said. "Professor! Let it be known that I, Ferdinand von Aegir, aim to prove my worth in the upcoming mock battle against our fellow houses. You shall see that I am superior to Edelgard in every way!"

Ferdinand then stood up and gave a refined bow, before taking his leave.

Following that declaration, Byleth and Edelgard finished the last scraps of their respective meals in silence. The dynamic between the Adrestian princess and Ferdinand was interesting, to say the least. Their rivalry appeared one-sided, but Byleth could tell that Edelgard held little patience for the boy.

He wondered if there was any sort of lost history between their families, and decided to ask Tomas sometime in the future. It would reflect poorly on him if their animosity were to impair their ability to work alongside each other.

"You should eat your dessert, Miss Hresvelg. It is on the verge of melting entirely."

Edelgard let out a tiny, alarmed cry, and quickly dug into her sorbet. As he watched the girl devour her dessert, Byleth came to a conclusion.

She enjoyed sweets.


"Well, then! Have you decided on a topic for your first lecture yet?"

"Yes." answered Byleth, now sitting by the desk in his quarters. Once he had returned from his meal with Edelgard, he had been sifting through various plans, eventually settling on one in particular.

It was less of a lecture and more of an exercise; one that his father always implemented on new recruits.

Of course, the mercenary recruits were already certified warriors, riders and mages – all of which his students were not. Therefore, Byleth would have to water down the exercise to something more manageable, yet no less effective.

"…And?"

Sothis hovered restlessly above the bed in his room, somehow manifesting a semi-physical form. It was preferable to a bodiless voice in his head, so he did not mind.

"Of course. Witnessing my magnificent form is a privilege, after all."

Byleth ignored her narcissistic quip, and chose to answer her original question.

"I will teach my students how to work together." he revealed. "Tending to the horses, weeding, clearing rubble and watching the skies atop the pegasi."

"That sounds dull."

He doubted Sothis had ever tried her hand at any of those things, but chose not to voice that thought.

"A little pointless, considering I already know what you are thinking. Nevertheless, I shall defer to your judgment on this matter."

It was hardly as though she had a choice.

"Phooey!"