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[Byleth appreciated Bondrewd's frank honesty. He knew, on some level, that the man wouldn't be handing his desired answers on a silver platter, easily digestible for him to internalise and accept. No, what Bondrewd could offer him were facts, and Byleth preferred facts over sentiment or vague theories.
Facts didn't lie. Facts were immutable. Facts followed some thread of logic, even if you couldn't immediately see it. Having Bondrewd divine the facts of Byleth's body would be more than enough for him... more than what anyone in Fódlan could've offered him, what with their severe lack of medical technology. The only one who held answers for him was Rhea, and he'd rather live in ignorance than willingly go to her about the matter.]
I appreciate your frankness. Truthfully, having your unbiased observation would be a boon, even if your research brings me an answer I'd dislike.
[At least Byleth would Know, then.]
As for potential challenges, there're a few... I'm not sure how to explain them, though, as my father didn't know the full details, and when I asked- a, ah, more knowledgeable source, they used medical language I didn't fully understand.
[Sothis had gone on a very long and confusing ramble about the uniqueness of Nabatean "gen-et-icks" and her own theories as to how this interacted with Byleth's human heritage - but her rambles were only theoretical (what with being bound to his mental scape and being unable to investigate his body medically) and she struggled to 'dumb things down' for someone who's science knowledge was leagues beneath her, so it had left Sothis annoyed and Byleth more confused than ever.]
I'll try to explain what I can though, ah... so, the properties of the Nabatean mean that ingestion or transfusion of their blood or introduction of soft tissue can cause adverse effects in incompatible organisms. [A kind of, bastardised quote from Sothis there.] This is because they have 'Crests', which is a- a "biological marker"? That the Crest Stone uses to send instructions for how 'cells' and 'genes' should be... manipulated?
[Ah, he's reaching the limits of his understanding...]
If there's no Crest Stone, these Crests can act abnormally... and vice versa, introduction of a Crest Stone without the corresponding Crest can force uncontrolled mutations on the subject. Um, so... my understanding is that if you accidentally ingest or implant Nabatean blood, soft tissue or a Crest Stone into a living entity, it can cause them to sicken or to mutate into a demonic beast.
[Phew!]
I've shed blood plenty of time on the battlefield, and exposure to it in that fashion hasn't caused such effects on other people, so I assume they'd have to... drink large quantities? Or deliberately introduce it to their own blood somehow...
Facts didn't lie. Facts were immutable. Facts followed some thread of logic, even if you couldn't immediately see it. Having Bondrewd divine the facts of Byleth's body would be more than enough for him... more than what anyone in Fódlan could've offered him, what with their severe lack of medical technology. The only one who held answers for him was Rhea, and he'd rather live in ignorance than willingly go to her about the matter.]
I appreciate your frankness. Truthfully, having your unbiased observation would be a boon, even if your research brings me an answer I'd dislike.
[At least Byleth would Know, then.]
As for potential challenges, there're a few... I'm not sure how to explain them, though, as my father didn't know the full details, and when I asked- a, ah, more knowledgeable source, they used medical language I didn't fully understand.
[Sothis had gone on a very long and confusing ramble about the uniqueness of Nabatean "gen-et-icks" and her own theories as to how this interacted with Byleth's human heritage - but her rambles were only theoretical (what with being bound to his mental scape and being unable to investigate his body medically) and she struggled to 'dumb things down' for someone who's science knowledge was leagues beneath her, so it had left Sothis annoyed and Byleth more confused than ever.]
I'll try to explain what I can though, ah... so, the properties of the Nabatean mean that ingestion or transfusion of their blood or introduction of soft tissue can cause adverse effects in incompatible organisms. [A kind of, bastardised quote from Sothis there.] This is because they have 'Crests', which is a- a "biological marker"? That the Crest Stone uses to send instructions for how 'cells' and 'genes' should be... manipulated?
[Ah, he's reaching the limits of his understanding...]
If there's no Crest Stone, these Crests can act abnormally... and vice versa, introduction of a Crest Stone without the corresponding Crest can force uncontrolled mutations on the subject. Um, so... my understanding is that if you accidentally ingest or implant Nabatean blood, soft tissue or a Crest Stone into a living entity, it can cause them to sicken or to mutate into a demonic beast.
[Phew!]
I've shed blood plenty of time on the battlefield, and exposure to it in that fashion hasn't caused such effects on other people, so I assume they'd have to... drink large quantities? Or deliberately introduce it to their own blood somehow...
[ — the point where Communion violently begins is born from the sense of intimate connection developed between two individuals.
It is very obviously a burning, bright thing from Set, whose mind scatters into the corners of those he has forged some sort of companionship with — for duty, for responsibility, for fun, for solemn vow. What arrives is the briefest sense of rising disorientation, woven through with a burst of wrath and grief so white-hot that it might char flesh from bone within seconds, shot through with rapture and the whiplash of love. It rises like a dying, murderous sun ( like Meridian ) — stifling and acute and suffocating — only to be tempered within seconds, by the cool, crisp wash of the dark sea ( like Zenith ), tempered and soothed with all edges laid flat once more.
The Communion plunges into quiet and calm, like a great, purring beast, and ends as abruptly as it began. ]
It is very obviously a burning, bright thing from Set, whose mind scatters into the corners of those he has forged some sort of companionship with — for duty, for responsibility, for fun, for solemn vow. What arrives is the briefest sense of rising disorientation, woven through with a burst of wrath and grief so white-hot that it might char flesh from bone within seconds, shot through with rapture and the whiplash of love. It rises like a dying, murderous sun ( like Meridian ) — stifling and acute and suffocating — only to be tempered within seconds, by the cool, crisp wash of the dark sea ( like Zenith ), tempered and soothed with all edges laid flat once more.
The Communion plunges into quiet and calm, like a great, purring beast, and ends as abruptly as it began. ]
[The Communion startled Byleth, as all Communion contacts did, but this one had been a potent, tempestuous thing, rushing over him like a freak thunderstorm and leaving his hair standing on end and his unbeating heart metaphorically skipping several beats. He froze almost comically, his pen - Sothis's remains - hovering over paper, the ink still shining and wet, before he slowly set it back down into its inkwell.
He waited, but the silence stretched in the wake of that natural disaster guised as a man's soul. He wondered if the contact had been accidental, or impulsive, and debated in pretending not to notice if that was what Set wanted - but at the same time, he remembered Set, wild-eyed and frenetic, standing amongst a field of blooming flowers and clawing at him with desperate fingers, who had snarled at him to leave, even though that was the last thing he had needed.
So, he didn't hesitate. He reached back, figurative hand open and gentle.]
Hello, Set. Do you want to spend time with me?
He waited, but the silence stretched in the wake of that natural disaster guised as a man's soul. He wondered if the contact had been accidental, or impulsive, and debated in pretending not to notice if that was what Set wanted - but at the same time, he remembered Set, wild-eyed and frenetic, standing amongst a field of blooming flowers and clawing at him with desperate fingers, who had snarled at him to leave, even though that was the last thing he had needed.
So, he didn't hesitate. He reached back, figurative hand open and gentle.]
Hello, Set. Do you want to spend time with me?
[ — what eventually returns to Byleth, after much delay, is the impression of a pair of hands slipping across his palm. One tucking along Byleth's hand, the other reaching higher, to grasp at his wrist and tightly haul the other man into the place where their minds blend together in Communion. Set is normally a nebulous presence within Communion, preferring to take the form of sensation and emotion, natural phenomena and bits and pieces of a true human shape,
it is when he exists at his most liberated, after all. In the realm of the imagination. ]
Byleth, I found it. Liem and I reached the temple our other team saw —
[ And of course he will share such information with Byleth, as he is owed the results of all their labors. ]
We are figuring out what to do, but you... I. I went to your mind, too.
it is when he exists at his most liberated, after all. In the realm of the imagination. ]
Byleth, I found it. Liem and I reached the temple our other team saw —
[ And of course he will share such information with Byleth, as he is owed the results of all their labors. ]
We are figuring out what to do, but you... I. I went to your mind, too.
[In Communion, Byleth was far more solid in his perception of himself. There was no abstract, no ambiguity; he was as he was in reality, unable to conceptualise a 'him' beyond that which he saw in the mirror everyday. It meant that as Set reeled him into a shared Communion space, he offset Set's chaotic presence with his own immutable one, grounded despite the mental maelstrom the god buffeted him with.
It was like being trapped in a sandstorm, gritty and blinding. Byleth had to take a moment to blink the figurative sand out of his eyes, feeling a little like he had just ran headlong into a wall from being yanked so roughly into this joint space. His poor, unbeating heart was getting a bit of a shock from so much emotional overload here, goodness.]
I... yes, you have. [Byleth adjusted, though, as quickly as he could, and kept his grip firm on Set.] But you have me at a slight disadvantage... are you upset by your findings? Excited? Do you need me to help in some way?
It was like being trapped in a sandstorm, gritty and blinding. Byleth had to take a moment to blink the figurative sand out of his eyes, feeling a little like he had just ran headlong into a wall from being yanked so roughly into this joint space. His poor, unbeating heart was getting a bit of a shock from so much emotional overload here, goodness.]
I... yes, you have. [Byleth adjusted, though, as quickly as he could, and kept his grip firm on Set.] But you have me at a slight disadvantage... are you upset by your findings? Excited? Do you need me to help in some way?
[ Byleth is rooted and firm, where Set has always gone where his whims have taken him. A trait that had caused an unending grief and madness to be born ( to have been exacerbated? ) within others, but not Byleth. He has always been gentle, been kind. No matter the numbed neutrality of emotions within him, he has clearly always felt things, lived by a code that might have befitted a mercenary, but had also allowed him to grow into something sweet.
It seems that it takes a long moment, for Set to fully recognize who's mind he has dashed himself into. Longer still to muddle through that it is Byleth, that he does not know why he has driven himself to Byleth. Why he is held instead of thrown out. The disorientation of it leaves him a swirling storm, the impression of his wrist caught within a firm grip. And with the cooling, calming wash of Zenith, Set forms from the sands and drops into Byleth's company — the guise of a human with endless red hair pouring behind him like veils and ribbons, back into the depths of his own mind.
]
Oh. Of course I would come to you.
[ A little raw, he admits aloud something he seems to have come to realize. ]
No, no. Liem is with me, we are deciding what to do — I only was feeling so many things at once, and there was not enough of "me" to hold it all.
It seems that it takes a long moment, for Set to fully recognize who's mind he has dashed himself into. Longer still to muddle through that it is Byleth, that he does not know why he has driven himself to Byleth. Why he is held instead of thrown out. The disorientation of it leaves him a swirling storm, the impression of his wrist caught within a firm grip. And with the cooling, calming wash of Zenith, Set forms from the sands and drops into Byleth's company — the guise of a human with endless red hair pouring behind him like veils and ribbons, back into the depths of his own mind.
]Oh. Of course I would come to you.
[ A little raw, he admits aloud something he seems to have come to realize. ]
No, no. Liem is with me, we are deciding what to do — I only was feeling so many things at once, and there was not enough of "me" to hold it all.
I understand. You were overwhelmed.
[Byleth, always cutting to the heart of the matter. Still, there was no judgement or anything in Byleth's voice, just a simple observation, his grip gentling on Set but not releasing him. He found it easier to gaze upon the god now that he had taken a form he could fully understand. A sandstorm wasn't really kind on the eyes.]
Do you feel better now? If you still feel too much, I could try singing to calm your emotions. I'm not sure how effective it'd be within the confines of our mind, though...
[Byleth, always cutting to the heart of the matter. Still, there was no judgement or anything in Byleth's voice, just a simple observation, his grip gentling on Set but not releasing him. He found it easier to gaze upon the god now that he had taken a form he could fully understand. A sandstorm wasn't really kind on the eyes.]
Do you feel better now? If you still feel too much, I could try singing to calm your emotions. I'm not sure how effective it'd be within the confines of our mind, though...
Good afternoon, Byleth. I hope this message is finding you well today.
[ Link's Communion voice sounds distinctly upbeat. He's still in a good mood after the Oracle win, it seems! ]
This may seem strange, but... I am going to Kowloon tomorrow and I felt I should tell someone. The place has a pretty bad reputation, and I'm going there to meet a Zenith, so... well, you never know what could happen. It didn't seem wise to just go without telling anybody.
[ So, here he is, awkwardly telling you and a handful of others about it! Haha. ]
If you don't hear from me in a few days, send the Legionnaires, okay? [ Spoken as a joke, but. It really isn't. ]
[ Link's Communion voice sounds distinctly upbeat. He's still in a good mood after the Oracle win, it seems! ]
This may seem strange, but... I am going to Kowloon tomorrow and I felt I should tell someone. The place has a pretty bad reputation, and I'm going there to meet a Zenith, so... well, you never know what could happen. It didn't seem wise to just go without telling anybody.
[ So, here he is, awkwardly telling you and a handful of others about it! Haha. ]
If you don't hear from me in a few days, send the Legionnaires, okay? [ Spoken as a joke, but. It really isn't. ]
[Byleth certainly didn't take it as a joke.]
Understood. Please be careful: Meridians aren't welcome in Kowloon, so you may experience some hostility from the locals if you overstay your welcome. Can I ask who you're meeting and the purpose of your visit?
Understood. Please be careful: Meridians aren't welcome in Kowloon, so you may experience some hostility from the locals if you overstay your welcome. Can I ask who you're meeting and the purpose of your visit?
I'll be careful. And I'll have the Master Sword on me, don't worry.
[ As for that completely reasonable question... there's a pause, and something akin to Link clearing his throat. ]
Bondrewd. I still have an item of his from when we were shrunken down by the Oracle. I need to return it.
[ As for that completely reasonable question... there's a pause, and something akin to Link clearing his throat. ]
Bondrewd. I still have an item of his from when we were shrunken down by the Oracle. I need to return it.
Oh, Bondrewd. I have dealings with him myself.
[HILARIOUSLY this made Byleth a lot less suspicious and wary. Oh, it's only Bondrewd! True, Byleth suspected he lacked a soul and there was a nothingness within him that activated some primal sense of unease in him, but Bondrewd had never done anything untoward to him. Well, not without his consent.]
Good luck in returning the item. I'm sure your journey will be uneventful.
[HILARIOUSLY this made Byleth a lot less suspicious and wary. Oh, it's only Bondrewd! True, Byleth suspected he lacked a soul and there was a nothingness within him that activated some primal sense of unease in him, but Bondrewd had never done anything untoward to him. Well, not without his consent.]
Good luck in returning the item. I'm sure your journey will be uneventful.
Yeah, everything should be okay. Thanks for humoring me.
I'll see you around the Tribune when I get back, I'm sure.
[ famous last words :3 ]
I'll see you around the Tribune when I get back, I'm sure.
[ famous last words :3 ]
[ In the wee hours of the morning, whether Byleth was awake at that time or not, he may hear some unusual noises. Soft clinks and clunks, the settling of something weighted and metallic near at hand, the crinkle of paper. These sounds on their own may amount to nothing in particular.
They're soon joined by the sweet aroma of confection, not very far off. Byleth may well be familiar with the sound of a plate being laid to rest at their one table. Whatever it was, it isn't a light dish. Yuri's footfalls are near silent in the stillness of what passes for night in Springstar, his location only determined by the soft sigh of the couch as he evidently takes a seat there.
With this, silence settles in again.
Yuri knows what Byleth often wakes around this time. Perhaps not always, but he wanted to be ready regardless. Today, if he is correct, is a special occasion. Sure, he made no mention of his own birthday, used to only his mother marking the occasion, but... Byleth had never properly celebrated, because he didn't know it.
Between the few details Byleth had supplied and Yuri's time in the monastery — more importantly, beneath it — he believes this must be the day. So he'd quietly readied for it, looking into options for gifts and the like.
The results were a custom fishing rod of the finest make he could find, tailored in black with a finely etched metallic pink pattern resembling his favorite flowers, with a tackle box to match. While these were purchased, made to his specificactions, the lures in the box were handmade. These, Yuri could safely tailor without drawing much notice, after all. One of them looks rather like his new dragon form, upon inspection.
He couldn't bake a cake himself without Byleth seeing or smelling it, so this too he custom ordered. Since Byleth doesn't express favorites with food, Yuri had taken a guess at a flavor that struck him as indulgent but not overpowering. Naturally, the only appropriate shape was that of a fish. The top is wreathed in berries and edible flowers, pink lettering spelling out Happy Birthday, Byleth.
Whether a party would have been welcomed or not, Yuri found himself uncertain. Not knowing what Byleth would be comfortable with, this seems a safe place to begin, especially since Byleth said he didn't know his birthday.
The paper proves to be a note tucked under the handle of the box, written in Yuri's oddly elegant-for-a-commoner script:
Byleth,
I have reason to believe today would be your birthday. Access to church records and all that. I couldn't be sure of your wishes for such an occasion, and asking would have made surprises impossible.
But I felt it was an occasion we should celebrate. I hope everything suits your tastes. Happy Birthday.
- Yuri
Depending on whether Byleth gets up when Yuri estimates or later, he may be sleeping on the couch by then. ]
They're soon joined by the sweet aroma of confection, not very far off. Byleth may well be familiar with the sound of a plate being laid to rest at their one table. Whatever it was, it isn't a light dish. Yuri's footfalls are near silent in the stillness of what passes for night in Springstar, his location only determined by the soft sigh of the couch as he evidently takes a seat there.
With this, silence settles in again.
Yuri knows what Byleth often wakes around this time. Perhaps not always, but he wanted to be ready regardless. Today, if he is correct, is a special occasion. Sure, he made no mention of his own birthday, used to only his mother marking the occasion, but... Byleth had never properly celebrated, because he didn't know it.
Between the few details Byleth had supplied and Yuri's time in the monastery — more importantly, beneath it — he believes this must be the day. So he'd quietly readied for it, looking into options for gifts and the like.
The results were a custom fishing rod of the finest make he could find, tailored in black with a finely etched metallic pink pattern resembling his favorite flowers, with a tackle box to match. While these were purchased, made to his specificactions, the lures in the box were handmade. These, Yuri could safely tailor without drawing much notice, after all. One of them looks rather like his new dragon form, upon inspection.
He couldn't bake a cake himself without Byleth seeing or smelling it, so this too he custom ordered. Since Byleth doesn't express favorites with food, Yuri had taken a guess at a flavor that struck him as indulgent but not overpowering. Naturally, the only appropriate shape was that of a fish. The top is wreathed in berries and edible flowers, pink lettering spelling out Happy Birthday, Byleth.
Whether a party would have been welcomed or not, Yuri found himself uncertain. Not knowing what Byleth would be comfortable with, this seems a safe place to begin, especially since Byleth said he didn't know his birthday.
The paper proves to be a note tucked under the handle of the box, written in Yuri's oddly elegant-for-a-commoner script:
Byleth,
I have reason to believe today would be your birthday. Access to church records and all that. I couldn't be sure of your wishes for such an occasion, and asking would have made surprises impossible.
But I felt it was an occasion we should celebrate. I hope everything suits your tastes. Happy Birthday.
- Yuri
Depending on whether Byleth gets up when Yuri estimates or later, he may be sleeping on the couch by then. ]
[ Dimitri's sense is a little unsure when he reaches out, but it's not about Byleth - it's really about something else. ]
Hello, Byleth! I hope you're well. I was wondering if I could ask your advice about something.
Hello, Byleth! I hope you're well. I was wondering if I could ask your advice about something.
[Claude's dilemma: he knows that sometime around this time of the month, it would be Byleth's birthday in Fódlan. He knows this based on things he shouldn't know, and also knows that Byleth from his own world simply had a birthday he had chosen (or Jeralt had chosen) instead.
With that in mind, what was he supposed to do to mark Byleth's birthday? He wanted to ask him about it, but that invited questions he wasn't prepared to answer, and in any case, it might be nicer to make matters a surprise. So, sometime in the afternoon, Byleth will receive a familiar nudge of communion.]
Say, Byleth... I don't suppose you're at home right now?
With that in mind, what was he supposed to do to mark Byleth's birthday? He wanted to ask him about it, but that invited questions he wasn't prepared to answer, and in any case, it might be nicer to make matters a surprise. So, sometime in the afternoon, Byleth will receive a familiar nudge of communion.]
Say, Byleth... I don't suppose you're at home right now?
[Of course, this was one of the days where Byleth seemed to have decided to 'sleep in', having exhausted himself the day prior with more 'flight training' in his draconic form (which had resulted in nothing but giving him extremely stiff and aching back and shoulder muscles). He didn't stir as Yuri crept around, setting everything up, and he didn't stir when his friend sat on the sofa to wait for him.
No, Byleth was very comfortable curled up in his little nest of blankets and pillows, quiet, snuffling not-quite-snores leaving him until his internal clock pinged that it was close to 'noon', forcing him to rouse. He frowned and grumbled, rolling over and back against restlessly, before he finally opened his eyes and sat up, hair sticking up at odd angles and eyes in a half-squint.
...he could smell food.
Following his nose more than his eyes, Byleth crawled out of bed and followed the scent to a... cake? A fish-cake. Byleth blinked several times, clearing the sleep from them as he actually took in the scene before him, instead of hyperfocusing on the fish-cake and nothing else - like, the words on the cake.]
Happy... birthday?
[His first thought was 'it's Yuri's birthday?' before he registered the 'Byleth' underneath 'birthday', and spent another full minute letting his half-asleep brain sluggishly process this riddle. It was his birthday? Hah? Since when? How? Huh?]
No, Byleth was very comfortable curled up in his little nest of blankets and pillows, quiet, snuffling not-quite-snores leaving him until his internal clock pinged that it was close to 'noon', forcing him to rouse. He frowned and grumbled, rolling over and back against restlessly, before he finally opened his eyes and sat up, hair sticking up at odd angles and eyes in a half-squint.
...he could smell food.
Following his nose more than his eyes, Byleth crawled out of bed and followed the scent to a... cake? A fish-cake. Byleth blinked several times, clearing the sleep from them as he actually took in the scene before him, instead of hyperfocusing on the fish-cake and nothing else - like, the words on the cake.]
Happy... birthday?
[His first thought was 'it's Yuri's birthday?' before he registered the 'Byleth' underneath 'birthday', and spent another full minute letting his half-asleep brain sluggishly process this riddle. It was his birthday? Hah? Since when? How? Huh?]
[Byleth accepted the Communion with a slight edge of drowsiness lingering on the fringes of his mind, but otherwise seemed alert and focused.]
I'd be happy to give all the advice you need, Dimitri. What's wrong?
I'd be happy to give all the advice you need, Dimitri. What's wrong?
[He is indeed, half-curled up in bed from an exhausting day of failing to fly and just giving himself incredibly sore back and shoulder muscles instead. So, when he accepted Claude's communion, there was a slight haze of drowsiness on the fringes of the connection.]
Hm...? Yes, I am. Are you wanting to visit?
Hm...? Yes, I am. Are you wanting to visit?
Perfect! Yeah, there's just this thing I thought you might want to lend a hand with.
[And with that mysterious pronouncement, he knocks on the door a minute later, as if he'd been lurking outside the whole time hoping to catch him while he was around.]
[And with that mysterious pronouncement, he knocks on the door a minute later, as if he'd been lurking outside the whole time hoping to catch him while he was around.]
[Byleth slowly peeled himself out of bed at the knock and opened the door: shirtless, because of course.]
Well...
[ There's a soft sigh. ]
During the last Oracle struggle, the idea was brought up about... using hostages. Taking the shards of the Zenites loved ones and using them as leverage. It's not something I agree with. And I am contemplating being prepared to fight other Meridians over it, if it comes to it.
[ There's a soft sigh. ]
During the last Oracle struggle, the idea was brought up about... using hostages. Taking the shards of the Zenites loved ones and using them as leverage. It's not something I agree with. And I am contemplating being prepared to fight other Meridians over it, if it comes to it.
[ Yuri had made a valiant effort to stay awake until Byleth got up, but eventually he lost the war and had dozed off. So there he was, perched on the couch still yet, arms folded across his chest as he slept. Early mornings were generally prime time to sleep, unless he heard Byleth up and about and dragged himself from his bedroll to ensure the guy had something to eat.
On this occasion, he managed not to stir until he caught the sound of Byleth talking to himself. Stifling a yawn behind his hand, the fog of sleep initially only allowed him to register that it was Byleth at first. The gears in his head only clunked away into their usual rhythm after a delay as he watched Byleth stare at the cake.
Tipping his head agaist the back of the couch, Yuri glanced to Byleth's gifts and could see these and his note remained untouched. Ah. He had miscalculated. Of course Byleth would have been drawn to food before anything else.
He turned his attention back to Byleth, studying his puzzled expression before offering softly: ]
I think this would be your birthday, anyway.
[ The date Sitri passed. Shortly thereafter, Sir Jeralt vanished from the monastery during a fire. Church records were heavily redacted, but between those scraps, the tombstone itself, and Aelfric's mad ramblings, Yuri was fairly certain that he was correct in his conclusions. Once Byleth said his mother's name, all those pieces had fit together. ]
You said you'd never celebrated it before, so...
On this occasion, he managed not to stir until he caught the sound of Byleth talking to himself. Stifling a yawn behind his hand, the fog of sleep initially only allowed him to register that it was Byleth at first. The gears in his head only clunked away into their usual rhythm after a delay as he watched Byleth stare at the cake.
Tipping his head agaist the back of the couch, Yuri glanced to Byleth's gifts and could see these and his note remained untouched. Ah. He had miscalculated. Of course Byleth would have been drawn to food before anything else.
He turned his attention back to Byleth, studying his puzzled expression before offering softly: ]
I think this would be your birthday, anyway.
[ The date Sitri passed. Shortly thereafter, Sir Jeralt vanished from the monastery during a fire. Church records were heavily redacted, but between those scraps, the tombstone itself, and Aelfric's mad ramblings, Yuri was fairly certain that he was correct in his conclusions. Once Byleth said his mother's name, all those pieces had fit together. ]
You said you'd never celebrated it before, so...
Hey you. I remembered it was your birthday. So... I picked out a knife for you.
...I'm sure you probably already have a good knife, but you could carry another one.
...I'm sure you probably already have a good knife, but you could carry another one.
...well, I can see the pragmatic side to it. So long as they're merely being kept hostage, and not being threatened with destruction, then it is a viable tactic - so long as the kidnapper is prepared for Zenith hostility afterwards.
The problem is.... destruction was specifically spoken about. And even if I see a pragmatic side to it, I cannot help by find myself repulsed by the idea of dragging in innocents - people who have done no wrong.
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