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Byleth looked out over the fields. The green was a deep hue, and it gave the land a glittering sheen as the sun broke over the horizon, sparking the dew while casting long shadows from the towers of Garreg Mach. They couldn't help but smile, breathing in the crisp cool air, relishing the contrast of morning chill -the slight dew that lingered on the surface of the masonry under their hands and on the grass under their feet that permeated their boots, leaving toes cold even with wool socks- and the warmth of the first sunlight. It was the start of winter proper it felt like, and eventually, the cold world worsen, but right now, it was only brisk, a fleeting thing that helped invigorate them and make getting up so early in the morning a bit easier. Not that getting up was ever easy. Not knowing how things would turn out. What would come and when. The unknown was fickle- time was not linear as they'd thought and discovered. Sothis had explained it once, how time as humans knew it was flawed. Time was like web, linking one moment to another until you had a pathway to follow, an unbroken line you could trace. But like any web, you could change direction, see other paths open and if desired, stray from your course and take a new route.
How many routes had they taken? How many paths had they already walked?
Eyes downcast, they wondered how easy it would be to simply jump forward in time, to sleep and wait then waken, and read of the past to know it. Once upon another time, they had thought to teach Edelgard, blind to the warning signs. Then, when she betrayed them, the church, her own friends- they had fought against her, killed her. Lived past her legacy and their own until one day, seated in the throne of the Goddess, Cichol preaching as men and women and children asked for blessings, for things they could not give as freely as the humans thought, Byleth had paused.
They looked at the statue of Serios, recalling Rhea's mantic behavior, her bloodlust, her vengence and hatered and her selfishness that had brought such suffering. A child who could not accept the death of their parent, who had long since accepted their role as a silent observer. Sothis and Byleth were one and yet not. Cichol stopped the service, and with eyes that had seen the war and what had followed, bowed his head.
"You don't have to stay." His words were gentle, and though they could sense his pain, he reached out, a hand covered their own. "We will be alright if you go now I think. You've done enough Byleth." They wondered, had this happened before? How much did the last of the Divine Dragons know? How much of the goddess lingered still in the dragon who was locked from his own true body, his real form?
"You can go and try again."
Byleth now stood at the walls that separate the monastery from the city below, and realized that the first time would probably always be the hardest to reconcile with. Knowing that they left a time behind. That the path they walked could never be walked so perfectly again. Time was a web.
Byleth, the avatar of Sothis, the Goddess reborn, tangled the web with each action. They alone could see what would come and what would be. Not because they simply could, but because they would live it. Dying, rewriting time, watching someone fall in battle, forcing the hands of fate back to save them last second, just to lose them in a few short years to age, war- it never got easier.
This was the... 15th? 18th? Time they had come back to the beginning. Sothis asked if they just liked to suffer- and asked if they knew what they were doing. They couldn't keep doing this forever.
In no timeline would it be perfect.
In no timeline could they make everything 'alright'.
In no timeline could they save their father.
It was the pain, knowing they chose to come back so far, to have to relive the tragedy each time. It never got easier, it never would. The childlike Sothis would warn them each time- eventually something would have to give, and they'd not be able to come back. They'd have to make a choice, they would have to choose what kind of life they wanted, what kind of future they could accept.
The chill slipped up their spine and the breathy exhale that left them condensed into a fine mist in front of their face.
Last time had been the worst. They had sided with Edelgard- and been asked to kill Serios. Yet in the last second, they knew what would follow. It would end everything. And the future... the future would be one that could never be undone. There would be no going back. More, the worlds and times and futures they knew that could come to pass would arrive all that much sooner- and likely with it? The consequences of mankind's rapid expansion. Edelgard but was one person, who's legacy lived on after her own death, who's desire, who's mission was pure and made with an honest want for freedom. A want that would be realized in time. But as they went to kill Serios...
Byleth turned away.
Such a future spelled disaster. Mankind needed Serios a bit longer. Need Sothis, Byleth, a little longer. Those Who Slither in the Dark would corrupt the world Edelgard would bring. Her own lifespan so short that the crest system would never fade completely, and mankind would walk the path of destruction once again. 1000 years Byleth gave each timeline. 1000 years to see it grow and change, a silent yet present observer.
The 9th time, after having helped Claude realize his dreams and goals, 1000 years after their choice to lead the herd of deer to the green fields of their fated futures, Seteth had asked them.
"How many times?"
They never asked how he knew.
"This is the ninth."
"Has it helped?"
They didn't have an answer, just looked to the tall metal buildings that broke the skyline, the scent of mankind and machine that permiated the air.
"You keep doing it, and eventually, you will go mad Byleth." He warned. "Time was never meant to be undone so often, so much. You were not born for this- born immortal like us." Flayn was ticking away at her phone, smiling as she swipped right. "You need to understand- Each time you do this... it will kill you from the inside." His head shook, and in those eyes, those green eyes, they knew more than what was said. "Please... find what will grant you happiness and keep it Byleth. In the end, you do not have to save all of us." He smiled, holding their hand.
"You only need to save yourself."
They blinked, the sun now higher in the sky, the church bells ringing, waking students and professors alike. They'd lost track of time, (ironically). This was the 17th time they realized. Nearly 10 times after Seteth's warning, and only know did it feel so very true. Heart heavy, Byleth turned from the sun and began walking towards the dorms, boots wet and toes cold. What they wouldn't give for better socks. Sadly, mass production was around 200 years away and flushable toilets? Even further.
One thing Byleth always hated about coming back was the loss of technology. So many things mankind took for granted as it grew and evolved. Yet, so much they sacrificed for it as well. They couldn't save everyone.
"Professor!" The green curls bounced as Flayn drew near, waving as she approached.
"I'm glad I caught you- I was hoping with today's lesson, we might spend some extra time on defensive tactics? Leione, Ignatz and I know we covered it a bit last week, but we think we need a bit more in depth what with all thats been happening." Ah right. What had been happening... The date came upon them and Byleth choked back a pained grunt.
The mission was in a few days.
"Of course Flayn. I'll see what I can do." The child manakete smiling as she thanked them before running off, no doubt to do her duties or pester her father for more liberties to venture out with the class.
Days came.
Days went.
Jeralt could not be saved.
Students would die in five years, those Byleth could not secure to their house. Edelgard would die for her ideals, remembered a martyr empress who's brief reign would inspire both hope for a crestless future, and a dark want for a Fodlan ruled by a select elite. Hubert, her retainer, remarked as her loyal friend and mistaken as her lover- his role remembered for the final act that would free Fodlan from the shadow rule of chaos that was made of vemon and madness. Dimitri would die, cut down like an animal and who would be remembered a tragic would be king- Dedue known as the last of the Duscur. His people wiped out by a war stricken people in the aftermath. A footnote of history, bleak and cruel.
Claude would survive, for better and worse. It did not make their choice any easier. The knowledge of what he'd uncover in the depths where Nemesis had laid in waiting, kept alive by dark magic and technology too advanced for it's time. Humans were not ready for it. Sometimes, Byleth wondered if they ever would be.
As the dust settled, as Claude worked with some of the lingering nobles of Feargus and the empire, Byleth stood once more at the wall.
Dew on their boots. Crisp air in their lungs. The sun breaking over the horizon.
"I can't help but feel we've been here before." Lindhart she'd noticed had developed an odd habit. He woke with more frequency than in other timelines, other routes. It was a nice change of pace.
"But, I suspect you have been here before. Several times if I'm not mistaken." Byleth blinked. It was true enough, Lindhart held a minor crest of Cethlean, but he was as far as Byleth knew, distant from it's source, (at least, biologically).
"What makes you say that?"
"Often I wondered... if all crests are given by the goddess, does that not connect us to her? Make us her children?" He pulled from his pocket an empty vial- insides dark brown with dried blood. Instantly they recognized it from Hanneman's tests. "It was a bit of an unorthodox attempt to be sure. But it was still rather enlightening."
"How so?" Sothis silent, they wondered what the ever tired scholar had come to find out.
"It always baffled me how you seemed to know just what moves to make, what tactics to use. Near perfect every single time... Yet it was always felt rehearsed. Like you'd done it all before. Then, I did a bit of digging and found something odd." He tilted his head, hand resting on his chin as they looked at them in thought.
"The goddess lives outside of time- and the more I thought of you, your mannerisms, your ability to know just exactly what to do, never too shocked or surprised... I guessed perhaps you as the Goddess's revival might be the same. And, given your reaction, I'm not too far off, am I?"
A smile tugged at the corner of Byleth's lips. Of all to have figured it out. And so soon. It took Seteth at least 300 years before he ever did. Flayn usually a bit longer.
"Not too far off." They looked back over the walls. A year returned, five asleep, a year to end a war. Time's web once more tangled as they thought of the future that might come. "What did my blood tell you?"
"That you bear the weight of your crest heavily on your shoulders. That you know too much and can't stop what will come." He joined them, leaning on the wall. "That you've probably seen me die before, and you'll see me die again."
"..."
"It will never be easy you know." He said. "Accepting death. Grief. But lingering on the past is what will keep you chained and locked to it. You have to let it go, accept that even with all the powers of the world, no one can escape from it. From sadness..from pain." He touched their hand, held it briefly.
"I'm sorry you couldn't save him."
Silence hung in the air like the mist of their breath.
"I don't think he'd have wanted this for you professor." Tears stung their eyes. No. Jeralt would have told them to move on. To grieve and grow and be happy. Wasn't that his wish? To have them smile? To know emotions and happiness? Hadn't they found some of that?
Had they lost it? Nothing felt happy anymore, nothing felt like it would make them happy anymore. How many times would they fail? How many more times would they have to hold their father's body in their arms and watch him die, helpless to stop it?
"Byleth." Lindhart smiled, and for a moment, they understood what linked them to one another.
"I was lucky in this life to figure it out, but I know I can't be the only one. Maybe it is because I studied the dark magics that helped me unlock the secret of your blood. Maybe it was brought on by a dream of a girl with green hair who reminded me of my mother- but I think you know what you want, deep down. What you have to do."
He gave their hand a squeeze, the pulse of his crest resonating with her own.
"Please. I won't last forever. Nor, will Seteth and Flayn. Rhea either." He smiled as they lightly gasped. The scholar, ever hiding his intellect behind a sleepy face and ambivalent air. "It wasn't as hard as you might think. When pressed, Seteth and Flayn are alarmingly bad at masking their feelings."
Byleth realized something else and stood shock still.
"Yes, a bit unorthodox as well. But can you blame me? At the very least, I'm not biologically related. Blood magic is rather useful at times, despite it's reputation. Hubert had that right at least. But I digress. You need to accept that some things we cannot change professor. Death isn't an enemy we can fight and win. Nor, is greif. You can mourn, you can regret, but you can't let it cage you. Look at what makes you happy and keep that close. Nurture it and then... let it go." He shrugged.
"Is it not natural for a child to grieve over their parent? And a parent over their children? Decide who you want to be professor, and find your happiness." He smiled, leaving them as the bell tolled.
Years past.
They watched the surviving students grew and changed. Marry, have children of their own. Watched as they rebuilt and forged a future for themselves and others. They smiled when Flayn thought she hid her love from her father, who had been shocked and terrorized her husband upon the discovery of their secret union. They held green eyed manaketes babies who carried crests and were thankfully, less narcoleptic than their father. They smiled when Almyra and Fodlan allied and prospered. They held Catherine's hand as Rhea faded away, her body no longer able to fight the infectious wounds left behind by the ones who had tried to wipe her and her people out.
Years past.
Time faded names from history and memory.
They stood at the wall, the green fields in their view, breath misting as their sneakers soaked up morning new leaving their toes cold and wet.
"You don't have to stay." Cichol stood beside them. Plain slacks and long coat hiding his uniform. "I know you have done it before- but it will always be your choice."
They smiled, reaching out to hold their hand in his. The bell rang. Students began to wake to ringtones and the Academy slowly buzzed to life.
"I think this time-"
Students started to fill the courtyard, laughing. None the wise that their professor looked at them the same way they had looked at their ancestors.
"I have what need."
They did not have to change the past- only the future.