Chapter Text
She felt it beginning as soon as Nemesis turned to dust.
Byleth watched as the King of Unification faded on the wind, his glowing red eyes the last thing she saw before he was completely gone. Giddy joy filled her, her smile stretching so wide it split her face in two. After all that time, after all those battles, they had finally won.
It was over.
Claude had been thrown far by Nemesis' strike. She turned to face him, her breath catching in her throat, only to be let out in a long sigh as she saw emerald eyes blinking up at her, disbelief and rising hope warring with pain. He was no doubt bruised and battered, maybe even a few broken bones, but he was going to live.
She took a step towards him, then staggered. Her hand reached up to press against her chest, where her still heart lay alongside the Crest Stone that gave her life. It felt like something inside her… crumbling, was the only way she could put it.
Byleth recovered, started to walk towards Claude again. She kept the smile plastered across her face. It wouldn't do to alarm the troops. But even as she reached her hand to help Claude to his feet, she knew.
The Crest Stone—Sothis' heart—wasn't working the way it was supposed to. For some reason that Byleth didn't understand, it was tied to the King of Liberation's fate.
Claude's hand was warm in hers. His fingers tightened around her own. He shot her a concerning look before he let go—no doubt he had seen her falter. But he didn't say anything, and it wasn't enough to keep his own brilliant smile from shining.
They turned to face their army together. It should have been a moment of utter victory, of new hope.
Instead, Byleth only felt hollow.
In the two day march back to Garreg Mach, Byleth made a point of spending some time with all her Golden Deer.
They were all injured in some way. It had been a fight for their lives against Nemesis, their very way of existence. But the elation of having won kept their spirits high through their pain, and they spoke of little else but the victory celebration they expected once they got back to the monastery.
"It's going to be amazing, Professor," Hilda assured her as they walked beside her injured wyvern. The beast had been shot down by Reigan, breaking a wing in the process. It could still walk, so they were taking it back the long way. It only tolerated Hilda's presence, and Byleth's if she accompanied her. Claude was still affronted by the way it had tried to bite him when Hilda was first training it.
"I've got just the outfit for the occasion, and the accessories to match. And Marianne has allowed me to dress her up too! Can you imagine how adorable she's going to look once I'm done?"
Byleth could indeed imagine. Marianne had come out of her shell in the years Byleth was asleep, but the young woman had blossomed in the past year. A lot of that could be attributed to Lorenz's determined affection. If they had been trying to hide it from everyone else, they hadn't done a good job of it.
Would Byleth last that long? She wasn't sure. That morning as she had packed up her bedroll, she had noted the dust that fell from her hands, too much to be normal. It was happening slower than to Nemesis—but it was happening.
All she could do was keep the company of everyone she cared about, and cement their faces in her memory. The way they looked, the way they sounded—even if she faded, she didn't ever want to forget them.
Byleth hadn't told anyone what was happening to her. What was the point? They wouldn't be able to stop it in time, and she didn't want her last few days to be filled with grief.
It was a relief that Claude was preoccupied with the army and some concern of his own. If he had spent more time with her, he would have worked out very quickly that something was wrong. Byleth had no secrets left from him—just this one.
Claude. Byleth's throat tightened, and the little bag with her father's ring in it burned in her pocket. She had brought it to the battle as a sort of good luck charm. If it was with her, then maybe she would have a future in which she gave it away.
That wouldn't be happening now. As soon as she got back to the monastery, Byleth was going to put it inside her bedside table. She didn't want to risk it turning to dust as well, not when it was all that remained of her parents.
Tears stung at her eyes. She brushed them away, forcing her face to resume its normal relaxed expression. She wanted that future where she could give the ring to someone she loved, and loved her in return. Byleth had only recently begun to think of life outside of the war, and she didn't want to give that hope up now that it had had a chance to grow.
It's not fair. Her expression remained still, even as her mind rebelled. I wanted to see the world we were going to build. Claude's dreams had become her own over time, bright and beautiful and worth striving for.
The breeze brushed at her cheek. Byleth turned her face to watch the trail of dust that it took with it, drifting through the forest.
"…Professor? Hello, Professor, are you listening to me?"
Right. Hilda. Byleth shoved the despair as far down as she could manage. It wasn't gone, not at all, but she could work past it to stay in the present for as long as she had left.
"I'm listening," Byleth said. The smile that she gave Hilda was small but real. "You were talking about what Marianne is going to wear."
Hilda gave Byleth an odd look, but launched into a lengthy description of the fabric she had bought before they had left for the fight. Byleth let her talk without interruption, the smile growing.
Her lifespan might be short, her time on this world limited, but to have spent it with people like Hilda, like Claude? It was worth it.
When they got back to Garreg Mach, there was no time to rest. Edelgard was dead, Nemesis and Those Who Slither In The Dark were defeated, and it was time to look to the future.
Byleth was unsurprised to learn that Rhea had passed away while they were gone. The woman had been barely clinging to life when they had left. Since she had passed on her secrets about Byleth's existence, the Archbishop had finally let go and gone to join her lost people.
She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Byleth had spent so long searching for Rhea, and for answers. The woman had meddled heavily in Byleth's life, and Byleth wasn't convinced that Rhea ever saw her or just Sothis' vessel. But Byleth also owed her existence to the woman, and Rhea had led her to the people that now mattered most to her.
However, it was easy to shove her own feelings on the matter to the side when she saw the raw pain on Seteth's face. Rhea was his family, after all, and he had so little of that left. It was one step closer to his race finally fading from existence.
It seemed that Seteth was the type to bury his grief under work. Everyone was discussing the leadership vacancy. What would become of Fódlan, now that the coalition of the Church and the Alliance had effectively conquered it? Seteth made it clear that he had no interest in becoming Archbishop himself, and it was increasingly obvious who he had in mind for the job.
Byleth didn't have the heart to tell him that he would have to either find someone else or step up himself. She was also grateful that the Lords of the Alliance who flocked to the monastery in the wake of Nemesis' defeat also did not say their intentions to her face.
After all, there were only two real candidates to take over leadership of Fódlan. There was Byleth, and there was Claude.
Soon, there would be only Claude.
Byleth found herself caught up in meeting after meeting. Even if the question of Fódlan's leadership was put aside for the moment, there was still so much to do. The armies had to be disbanded, the battlefields cleaned up, the dead buried and the living looked after. Byleth's head spun with all the reports she had to read, and the memos she had to send. When she wasn't discussing the army with her generals, she was drowning in paperwork.
Three days after arriving back at Garreg Mach, Byleth set aside the last report on the supply chains and leaned back in her chair. Everyone in the cardinal's room was slumped, eyes redshot from strain. Byleth heaved a sigh, looking around the room at her Golden Deer and the Knights of Seiros. How was it that they were all so exhausted even after the war was over?
Seteth cleared his throat. "There is one last thing we should discuss before we adjourn."
Byleth resisted the urge to bury her head in her hands instead. Enough already! she wanted to scream. I don't have enough time left for this! Byleth had a day left, maybe. She was the vessel of the Goddess of Time, and she knew this in her bones.
She didn't want to be here in this meeting. She wanted to be dining with her friends, basking in their presence for a little bit longer. The Church could take care of itself. Byleth wanted to be selfish for once. Hadn't she earned that right?
But it was not the time or place for an argument, not when Byleth couldn't bring herself to tell them why she was so desperate for time with them. "What haven't we covered?" she asked instead. Let them get it over with, so that they could be free of the room faster.
Seteth met her eyes from across the table. "Your coronation ceremony." Byleth breathed in sharply, her eyes widening as Seteth ploughed on. "We cannot go too long without an Archbishop, and you are the successor that Rhea nominated."
Should I tell him? Byleth wondered. She was conscious of all eyes on her right now, the weariness overtaken with anticipation. She opened her mouth to say that she would not make it, but the words couldn't make it past the lump in her throat.
To stall for time, she looked around the room, meeting everyone's gazes one by one. She faltered when she reached Claude. His eyes narrowed at her, then softened. She wondered what it was that he saw in her that the others hadn't. He could always read her too well.
She couldn't do it. She couldn't tell them. Byleth knew that it was selfish, and that it would hurt them either way. But she couldn't bring herself to ruin her last day with frustration and tears.
"Alright," Byleth said instead. "How about we make it the day after tomorrow?"
She would be gone by then.
Seteth's eyes widened at the easy acquiescence. Clearly, he had been expecting her to argue against it. Once upon a time, Byleth would have. She was a mercenary at heart, not an Archbishop. It was still hard to wrap her head around the idea that she was also a teacher.
With that agreed on, they scattered for the evening. Byleth caught Sylvain's eye as they rose. The two of them and Hilda had plans to dine together. See you at the dining hall, she mouthed. Byleth wanted a moment to herself first. She felt a little queasy at the deception she had just orchestrated.
Byleth waited for everyone else to leave first before heading out. As she passed through the door, a hand caught hers and tugged her to the side. Byleth looked up at emerald eyes and a cheeky grin, and her own smile blossomed in return.
She needed to tell him how happy he made her before she died. Byleth had spent all her life without emotion, and while Claude couldn't claim sole responsibility for bringing her out of her shell, he was a major part of it.
“We need to talk before the ceremony,” he told her, voice low and intense. “Meet me at the Goddess Tower at sunset tomorrow?”
Byleth calculated the time in her head. It would be pushing it. Maybe she should suggest sunrise instead. But they were both so busy; Claude wouldn’t have suggested that time unless it were the only one he could make.
She would have to hold on for just a little longer.
“Of course.” The words were difficult to choke out. Byleth hoped her smile made up for it. Claude seemed reluctant to drop her hand, letting his fingers trail through hers as he pulled away. It made Byleth's head spin with longing for what could no longer be.
With one last scorching look and a swish of his cape, Claude was gone. Byleth stood alone in the corridor, still feeling the pressure of Claude's fingers on her own, long after he let go.
Or was that it? She held up her hand to the light of the nearest torch. Little particles of dust lifted off it with the movement. Her skin didn't look quite like skin anymore. There were more particles swirling just beneath the surface.
She might have a day left, but she wasn't going to be able to hide it. Not at the end. She was looking less human by the minute.
Byleth closed her eyes, tucking her hand into the sleeves of her greatcoat. Just a little longer, she begged internally, knowing there was no one listening now. I'm not ready to go yet.
For a few long moments, Byleth waited for a response that never came. Her hands clenched harder with each breath that passed without a response. Then she opened her eyes, took a deep breath and went to join her students for one last meal.
The sunset was gorgeous. Byleth learnt against the wall of the window, drinking in the pink and orange clouds. The wind brushed her face, taking pieces of dust with it.
She was more dust than person now. Byleth had avoided everyone all day because of it. Every minute dragged by, and she lost pieces of herself with every one.
Byleth wanted nothing more than to see a new dawn. This sunset was glorious, but it wasn't the same.
She'd take it anyway.
Footsteps sounded behind her. Byleth would recognise Claude's distinct step anywhere. A hint of a smile tugged at her lips, even as her eyes burned. She was so grateful that he was here, at the last.
“There you are, my friend. I was a little worried you weren’t coming, no one has seen you all day.” At the rich sound of his voice, a tear finally escaped. Instead of water, dust flowed into the air.
She turned around to face him properly, taking note of the brilliant smile on his face even as it turned into horror.
“Byleth,” he breathed. She had never heard such fear in him. Claude surged forward, reaching a hand to touch her on the shoulder.
It went right through her, and she didn't feel a thing. The dust flew everywhere at the disturbance, soon carried away like her tears.
Claude shook his head, stricken. “No,” he said under his breath. “Please, not you.” He kept repeating it, and it was all Byleth could do to hold what was left of herself together, in more ways than one.
“Tell me how to fix this,” he soon ordered her, voice tight. “There has to be a way!”
Byleth shook her head. The ends of her hair disappear with the movement. “I'm sorry.” At least she still had speech, and sight. She could drink him in like she had the sunset, the last thing she ever saw.
She watched as he sucked in a shuddering breath. His whole body shook. It was the most discomposed she had ever seen him. Every part of her ached to reach out, to hold him and tell him that she would be fine. But even that had been stolen from her.
Eventually, he pulled himself back under control with a skill honed by years of practice. Only the ever-present quivering of his shoulders betrayed how wrecked he still was.
“This wasn't what I had in mind when I asked you to meet me here,” he told her, voice deceptively steady
Byleth couldn't help the tiny laugh that escaped her. She knew it was wholly inappropriate, but she couldn’t stop it. “I know,” she said. She made no pretence at composure. She was the emotionless Ashen Demon no more.
He reached into the pocket of his coat, pulling something small and shiny out. He held it out to her, a silver and emerald ring balanced on the palm of his black glove.
“I was going to ask you to marry me tonight.”
She stared at it for a long moment, thinking of another ring safe in her bedside drawer. In another time, she would have it with her tonight, for the same reason as Claude. Byleth smiled. How could someone be so overwhelmingly happy and sad at the same time?
Byleth tilted her head up to look Claude in the eyes and imagined the future they might have had. She thought of long days made easier by his constant presence at her side, of bantering over the dinner table as they decided the direction of their new nation. She thought of children with dark hair and her eyes, or maybe mint hair and emerald eyes.
“I would have said yes.” She watched the tears finally flow freely, streaming down his face.
He tucked the ring away and reached for her again. This time, his hand hovered just above her cheek. She closed her eyes and tilted her head into his palm, wishing that she could feel his touch.
He waited until she opened her eyes again to speak. Claude looked at her with the same intense focus that he only gave that which mattered most to him.
“I love you,” he said. “With everything that I am.”
She was growing hollow. Days had dwindled to seconds. It took all of her strength to stay long enough to memorise the look of his face, the sound of his voice.
“I love you,” she murmured. “I wish…” her voice trailed away. She wished for so many things, it was hard to pick just one to say.
She wished to watch a new dawn with him. She wished to start and end every day with him, to grow old by his side. They had such a large task before them, and now Claude would have to walk it alone. Her destruction would threaten the peace they had so tentatively forged, making his path hardier and lonelier.
He was fading before her. No, it wasn't Claude that was fading. It was her.
“I wish I could stay here with you.”
Then she was gone, leaving Claude standing alone at the top of the Goddess Tower, bathed in light.
She dreamed of battle.
Armies rushed at each other over a great plain. The sky was dark, clouds covering the stars from view. Or was it smoke? The smell of burning flesh was so strong that she could almost taste it.
The fact that it was night seemed wrong to her. She could have sworn that it was supposed to be day.
In the centre of the two armies were two people locked in bitter combat. A man with a sword that detaches into a whip, and a woman with long green hair. But where was the third? She didn't know why she thought there must be another person.
And the woman wasn't quite right either. The hair was the wrong shade, the face too enraged, and she fought with a sword and shield that looked too normal.
Nothing was quite right with this scene. Before she could understand what unnerved her so, it faded away, leaving her with the vision of the woman cradling the fallen man's sword as his corpse bled out nearby.
The battlefield was replaced by darkness, and a green throne. A girl lounged upon it, studying her with alien eyes that see right through her.
Who are you? the girl asked her.
I am a ghost, she replied.