Chapter Text
Water poured heavily from the skies. The sounds of raindrops slapping against rapidly forming puddles echoed throughout. Strong winds only added to this, pushing and pulling the rain in every direction. Anyone unfortunate enough in it’s path would be met with harsh stings against their skin. The sky was pitch black; not a thing could be seen through the eerie darkness. That was until sharp cracks of lightning would break through, blooming and stretching, giving viewers a glimpse of the massive clouds that hung over them. It was deafening, ongoing, overwhelming.
It was what Byleth found himself waking up to.
He laid in grass and mud, staring up at the sky; motionless as the cold earth sank past his armor and into the clothes on his back. Byleth’s mind was still in a daze, and bit by bit, his body began to register the cacophony of noise that struck at all of his senses. First, the rain, which forced him to shut his eyes and tilt his head away. Then, the thunder, causing him to throw his hand up and cover his ears. He came to regret this decision as, lastly, the pain sat in.
His body ached immensely. From the base of his back outward, the strain he felt blossomed. A memory came to mind was from when he was young, still learning how to ride a horse. Byleth had fallen off and landed squarely on his back. His father ran over and aided him, calmly telling him to breathe, collect himself, and that he would be alright.
This pain mimicked that, but scaled four times over. With that in mind, he repeated in his head the steps his father instilled in him.
Breathe, kid.
Collect yourself.
You’re alive, you’ll be alright.
The weather certainly didn’t help with his focus, but it wasn’t like he had any other options. He breathed, nearly choking on water. He categorized the pain throughout his body, seeking out where he had the most damage, then casted heal bit by bit. For some reason, his magic didn’t seem to be doing as much as he had hoped.
What happened to him? His body was exhausted, everything aching and sore, as if he had been training or in battle-
The Monastery.
Edelgard’s betrayal.
The attack.
The forces of the Adrestrian Empire closing in with the aid of Demonic Beasts. The scramble to help the students escape. Rhea’s transformation. The Blue Lions. Dimitri-
Byleth steeled himself. He needed to stay calm, to remember how he got here. The last thing he saw before the earth gave out beneath his feet was Rhea, giving out a fiery battle cry in her dragon form. After that, there was just the fall.
Did he pass out before or after he hit the ground? Regardless, he was grateful to even be alive. Sothis must still be looking out for him after all.
After what seemed like an eternity in this storm, Byleth found the strength to sit up and take in his surroundings. What he saw baffled him, as it was not at the bottom of a ravine. He sat in what looked to be a open field. The rain and darkness obscured much of his vision, but the breaks in lightning revealed flashes of the terrain.
He was on an untouched field in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing along the ground that could have indicated a great battle- any sort of battle at all. Close by, he spotted a nearby forest, but with trees half the size of those surrounding Garreg Mach. He couldn’t see any of the high castle walls either; his gaze met only with rain and lightning.
The wind nearly toppled him as he struggled to stand up and get a better view. In the distance, he could barely make out the shapes of buildings, but it certainly wasn’t the monastery. Was he brought here? Given the muddy field and the ongoing storm, he couldn’t even hope to find a set of tracks. Still, he gazed down, and noticed that the patch of earth beneath his feet was tarnished and dark. It stretched out just a bit further around the area from where he laid. It was as if the grass had seared around him amidst the storm.
He almost wanted to try calling out, but with this storm, would his voice even travel? Before he could come to a decision, his sight picked up something in the distance. A bright light that seemed to be moving slowly, getting closer and closer at a steady and even pace. Someone passing by? With some struggling, he managed to find and pull out of the mud his weapon, the Sword of the Creator, which was laid beside him.
He tried to be grateful for the little things, using that as a tool to keep himself calm. He was still alive, breathing and moving. He had his weapon, his armor in tact, he wasn’t defenseless. His body was healing bit by bit, but he took notice that it was much slower than usual. If he could breathe, if he could move, if he could fight, then he could get back to the monastery. To his lions.
The lights were much closer than before, revealing that it wasn’t one, but two that appeared side by side. They came to a halt, and through the chorus of the wind and rain, a voice called out to him.
“HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE?!”
Byleth’s eyes went wide. He was wary. Was this an enemy? Or perhaps someone who was simply passing by? How did he even see him out here?
The voice called out once more, and a body stepped in front of the lights, silhouetting the figure of the stranger. “Did you not hear me?!” They called out again, the voice gruff and angry. A crack of lightning stuns the two of them, and the voice quickly changed their tune to worry. “Now’s not the time to be standing and gawking- get over here now! Quickly!”
Byleth took a step forward, and another wave of pain was sent throughout his body. He nearly collapsed, but he kept his balance and attempted another step. His poker face must not have been holding up well as he heard the stranger approaching.
“Shit- are you injured, kid?” The sounds of sloshing water and mud approached before Byleth’s felt a hand placed on his shoulder. “… what… are you wearing?”
“Huh?” Byleth glanced up, but couldn’t make out a face. The bright lights behind the figure obscured much of his vision, and the rain even more so. “What am… my clothes?”
“… seriously- you think running around in a costume during a storm like this is funny?!” A sharp tug at his arm and Byleth is being dragged closer towards the lights. “I drive all the way out here to check on the field and all I find is some reckless kid in cosplay!” The voice grumbled and scolded him, guiding him towards what could have been a carriage. As Byleth gets closer, he notices it’s the strangest carriage he’s ever seen. Much lower to the ground, no horses even, nothing but those large lights that shine at the front of it.
The door was opened for him and he’s guided inside. “Get in. Now.” With no resistance, Byleth slips in, grateful to be sheltered from the rain. His cloak was soaked, mud and water slowly pooling at the bottom of his feet. He watched as the figure continued to grumble, walking around the front before slipping into the seat beside him.
“Alright- first off- you’re in big trouble.” The figure lectured, shutting the door on their way in. With the sounds of the storm dulled, Byleth could start to take in more of their appearance. It was an older man, his voice gruff yet authoritative. A large beard settled on his jaw, and his damp hair obscured most of his face. “If you’re a student- you’re going to get the scolding of a lifetime. If you’re a trespasser- you better believe I’m reporting you.”
“Um…” Byleth finally found his voice and attempted to speak up. “Where…. Am I?”
“Wh… where are you? Do you not know? How long have you been wandering around out there?”
“I… I haven’t.” Byleth shook his head. “I just woke up. Please- tell me- what’s the date?”
“The date- kid, it’s Friday.” The stranger replied. A heavy sigh left his lips as his tone grew more frustrated. “Alright- I’m sorry if I’m ‘interrupting’ your little roleplay moment- but this is serious. This storm has already knocked out the power twice, and people have been getting into accidents on the road. Now, I need you to take me seriously!”
Byleth simply stared, unsure of what to make of the stranger’s statements. “… do you… think I’m lying?”
“Of course I do- what else am I supposed to believe? That you’re just a guy in full armor with a- is that real?” He gestured to the Sword of the Creator.
“… yes?” Byleth frowned. Something wasn’t right before, but with this stranger, things definitely weren’t right now. “Are we near the monastery? Do you know about the Adrestrian Empire’s invasion? It doesn’t matter where in Fódlan I am- you must know something!”
“Okay- as I said before- the acting needs to stop-!”
“I’m not acting!” Byleth glared. “I have to get back! My students were in danger- everyone was in danger! I don’t know where this is or- or what this is-!” He gestured to the vehicle they had taken shelter in. “-but I need you to take me seriously and-!” He stopped mid rant and began to cough.
A poor mixture of water and blood ended up spilling from his mouth as he keeled over in his seat.
“Kid- hey kid! You are injured!” The stranger moved his arm up, and a light suddenly turned on inside. Byleth could feel the man’s hesitant hand rest on his back, gently rubbing in small circles to help him through the fit. “God, alright, I’m sorry if I wasn’t taking you seriously, but right now we need to get you to a hospital. Now is there anyone I can call? Your parents? Friends? Relatives?”
Byleth breathed slowly, waiting for his breath to catch up with him before he addressed he stranger. And then his blood went cold. The light gave way to new features that he didn’t pick up before. A deep scar running across his right cheek. Soft brown eyes that held anger and concern staring back at him. It was impossible.
“… father?” Byleth mumbled.
“That works- we can call your dad.” Jeralt- no- was this Jeralt? The stranger replied back, pulling out something small and metal from his pocket. “Do you know the number? I think I have some signal.”
“I… can’t do this.” As quickly as he was ushered into the vehicle, Byleth clutched onto the door and stumbled out of it, making his way back into the storm.
“Hey-!! Kid!!!” The stranger yelled back.
No, this was a mistake. This couldn’t be happening. Did he die in battle?! No- his father would have recognized him. Byleth stumbled through mud as cold water seeped into his boots. He needed to get distance. If this was a trick, it was a cruel one.
He felt a hand firmly place itself on his shoulder and spin him, coming face to face again with the man who wears his father’s face.
“What are you doing?! Get back in the car!!” He yelled out of anger and concern. “Look- I don’t have to call anyone- but you’re clearly delirious and-!”
“Jeralt!” Byleth yelled at him. The storm raged on, but with another crack of lightning, he could see the shock in the stranger’s face. The name stunned him. With that as confirmation, Byleth pressed further. “Jeralt Eisner! That’s your name, isn’t it?!”
“How… how do you know that?” The hand on Byleth’s shoulder slipped away, and he took a step back.
“I don’t know… what sort of ploy you have in mind!! But my father is dead! So there is no way you can be here, right now!” Byleth shook his head.
“Are you saying I look like him?!”
“You-!” Byleth paused. He took a longer time looking at the Jeralt look alike this time. Certain things were still damn near identical. From his face to the placement of the scar, to even his voice. After that, not so much. His clothes were… strange. Father would have never dressed himself this lightly, there wasn’t even any armor! His body shape was a bit… different. He didn’t carry himself like the mercenary who had trained Byleth. His body was a little rounder, a little softer. Everything about him felt a bit too foreign.
“You… you’re not him…” Byleth paused. “But- Jeralt Eisner is still your name- yes?”
“Yes…” Jeralt nodded, a wave of confusion now spreading across his own face. The two stand in silence, or about as silent as one could have in a storm, staring back at one another with worried looks. “… come back inside the car. We need to talk.”
“No, I-!”
“Please, kid.” Jeralt pleaded. “I promise, I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t do anything, I just want to talk. I can’t leave you in this storm.”
Byleth stared back, trying to get a read on him. Jeralt had always been honest with him. Whenever he wasn’t, he never truly lied. He just omitted information. The man before him, however, showed him the same sort of expression his father did when he did have something to say. The last time he saw his father like this was when he was shown his mother’s grave. Jeralt bestowed him the ring, hoping that he would find someone in his life to give it to. It was probably the most personal conversation the two had ever shared with each other.
The silence between them was broken by another crack of lightning, and the two came to an agreement. With that, both were back in the car, sitting with the sounds of raindrops pattering against the windshield to fill the silence. Byleth thought that he laid on the ground for an eternity. That moment paled in comparison to how quiet the two stayed. He would glance over. He’d catch Jeralt making glances of his own. It felt as though one was waiting for the other to speak up.
“… so.” Jeralt started. “You say I look like him. Your father. … can I ask about your mother?”
This question surprised Byleth. He didn’t expect both versions of Jeralt to wear the same expression when they brought up his mother. “I… never met her. She passed when she had me.” He mumbled.
“Seriously…?” Jeralt let out a weak chuckle. “I’m sorry- that’s not funny. That’s… that’s just too cruel. … her name?”
“… Sitri.”
Jeralt let out another chuckle. “You can’t-… you have to be messing with me- this is a joke or something. God, I wish you were lying.”
“I’m not lying-!” Byleth protested.
“I know you’re not.” Jeralt replied quickly. “You… look too much like her.”
The response shocked him and Byleth waited to see what else Jeralt had to say.
“… I did have a wife.” He mumbled. “Years ago. She did die, during her pregnancy. The baby didn’t make it either…” Jeralt let out a deep sigh. “And I almost thought you’re just some kid playing the cruelest prank on me but you look so much like her, it hurts. I didn’t see it before.”
The two sat, not knowing what to say. Byleth tried to find the words. Something that could help in any way, to give closure to all of this. He came up empty.
“I… I’m sorry.” It’s all he could muster. As much as it hurt him to see his father, it must have been just as overwhelming to see him in turn.
“It’s okay… so… what is this? Are you my kid who… who survived? Where have you been for two decades? Who took care of you?”
Byleth’s expression turned into a puzzled frown. “You did. You raised me.”
“No- no, no. I certainly didn’t. And I don’t have a twin, or any other family really. So where have you been?”
“Fa- Jeralt.” Byleth caught himself. “You… maybe not you, but I was raised by my Jeralt. By my own father. He taught me everything, I spent my whole life with him.” He mulled everything over in his head. None of this made any sense. Not the area, not this vehicle, and certainly not his father. This man who continued to look at him with such a puzzled look. As if Jeralt didn’t understand him. As if Byleth didn’t belong here.
He inhaled sharply. “I’m not anywhere near the monastery, am I?”
“Kid, there’s no monastery around here. You can pick a direction and drive for a day, you won’t find one.” Jeralt admitted. “… you’re being serious… you don’t know how you got here?”
Byleth nodded quietly, clutching to himself. Everything began to sink in at once. He was cold, exhausted, and hopelessly lost. He was stuck in… whatever this strange carriage was with a man who was not his father in a place that was not the home he had come to love.
He breathed.
He collected himself.
He was alive.
Those three things kept him steady as he spoke out loud once more. “I have to figure out what’s going on… and then I have to find my way back.” His face was expressionless, but his voice was authoritative and cold. It was the tone he would take with his students when the classroom got too rowdy.
Byleth then turned to look at Jeralt, a new spark of determination in his gaze. “I… you have no obligation to help me… but if you’re willing-”
“I’ll help.” Jeralt cut him off. “And- technically- I do have an obligation to help you. I found you on school grounds, which makes this problem my problem too.”
“School grounds… the Officer’s Academy?” Byleth’s eyes widened. “You’re captain here too?”
“… uhm… more like… a security guard.” Jeralt sighed with a disappointed expression. It wasn’t directed towards Byleth, rather, towards himself after comparing his own life to that statement. “For a private college campus. One of the students called in that they saw something strange going on by one of the fields. It’s why I was headed out here to begin with.” He frowned a bit as he casted his gaze out towards the field. “Something about some fancy looking lightning.” The headlights of the car illuminated the patch of grass where Byleth had laid.
“Fancy lightning…” Byleth mumbled.
“Maybe you were struck by it.” Jeralt contemplated. “Like- wrong place, wrong time? Maybe it messed with your head or-“
“My head is fine.” Byleth glared. He was used to his father having the utmost faith in him. This constant questioning of his own sanity was something he never knew he’d find so irritating.
“Okay- okay- I don’t mean to imply that what you’re experiencing isn’t. I just…. This is a lot to take in and I need to consider all of the options.”
Their conversation is interrupted once more by a lightning strike, this time landing a little to close to the vehicle. As soon as the thunder subsided, Jeralt had his hands on the wheel. “That’s a sign, we can put our heads together on this later. First, let’s get out of this storm.”
The vehicle hummed to life, new lights appearing on the dashboard in front of them. Byleth’s eyes went wide as he clung to his seat. It was rare he was caught off guard, but this wasn’t what he expected out of this carriage.
Jeralt noted the reaction, seeming more surprised than Byleth did. “… you must have ridden in a car before, right?”
“I… rode a horse once and I fell off.” He admitted.
“Ah, well then, buckle yourself in. With the roads slick like this, we’ll need to be careful.”
With great care, Jeralt slowly moved the car forward with nothing but petals by his feet and a wheel to turn the direction. Byleth couldn’t help but stare in awe at the machinery before him, grateful for the distraction. In the back of his mind, his doubts and anxieties lingered, but he knew he would be alright.
He had to be.