Phantom Pains

Chapter One

Felix stumbled into the Monastery's gates, his right arm cradled below his chest, blood trailing down the front of his coat in long streaks of scarlet. The world around him spun as he pressed forward, his half-opened eyes lulling from side to side looking for someone—anyone—to help him.

He heard the clanking of armor to his left, the last of his adrenaline climbing up his back as a tall figure ran towards him. Through his blurred vision he could not make out who, or what, was approaching him. He attempted to ready a fire spell in his left hand, the flames weak, barely a flicker in his palm.

"S-Stay away..." he threatened, his voice breaking in exhaustion.

"Jeeze,Felix, it's me!" He heard Sylvain say, his warped figure halting before him. "What happened?!"

Felix fell to his knees, the light in his hand disappearing in a puff of smoke. "I..." he started; his thoughts fragmented glass. "I..." He felt his brow furrow, language escaping him. He wanted to scream—if he had the strength maybe he would have. Instead, he just cried silently, tears hot against his cheeks, dripping down to the ground and mixing with blood.

"Hey...hey, let's get you help, okay?" He heard, Sylvain's over-eager grip on his right bicep, attempting to pull his arm up to sling around his neck. "It's a short walk to— "his voice cut out as he held his friend's limb in front of him, the forearm blunted at the wrist, raw meat stringing from the wound and onto the fur of his sleeve. "Oh, Felix...." he said lowly.

"Stop..." Felix whispered with as much venom as he could muster. He heard several footsteps approach, the chatter of his friends outdone by the now constant ringing in his ears. He was suddenly facing up, a blue swath of Faerghus sky filling his vision. His rusty eyes fought to stay open, the weight of their lids dragging down until everything was dark.

*****

"Felix. Felix, wake up! You'll be late for training!" Glenn's voice echoed from somewhere in the distance. "You'll never beat me if you don't take this seriously!"

Felix was ripped from his dream at the sound of his name, his eyes opening to the warm candlelight of Manuela's old office. He turned his head towards the voice and found the Professor staring at him, her features soft, concern dancing in her eyes.

"Byleth..." he said lowly, feeling the dryness of his tongue as he spoke. He had only just begun to forgo her title recently, a drunken kiss last moon sparking a confusing, unspoken love for her within him. He had always stolen glances at his instructor—in the dining hall, on the battlefield—but he was too comfortable drifting in the sea of distance to act on his desires.

"Shhh. Let me get you a drink." She said, turning to her right and pouring a small glass of water.

"I-I can get it." He said, attempting to reach a hand out and take the glass from her. Pain shot through his forearm as he moved, white bandages around his wrist rounding out the limb where his hand should be. His heart dropped as he pulled back, taking in the foreign anatomy. Memories of this morning flooded him—an empire loyal faction appearing while on patrol, a five-on-one battle. He would have made it out unscathed if they hadn't summoned the beast when they did. He lost his footing as it charged at him, catching him by the sword hand and gnawing ferociously.

"Felix...please."

He looked over at her, she was still holding the water out to him. He sighed, allowing her to put it to his lips and tip it back. He drank eagerly.

"Thank you..." he said, throwing off the covers and slowly rising to a stand. He felt some measure of relief seeing that, aside from his amputation, the rest of his body remained intact and uninjured, if a bit stiff.