My Ghost is a Dork

"Oh, That's Right, Barcelona!"

Byleth was used to dreaming of wars. Each time after the clash of blades and rain of fire, she would inevitably find herself here. In a large room, or she assumed it was a room, as it was too dark to see any of the walls, all aside from one greenly lit wall, in front of which stood a throne of stone on a raised dais. On that throne, was a girl. An oddly dressed girl with very long emerald-green hair and long ears that came to a point, fast asleep.

When Byleth stepped forward, the sound echoed around the odd space, and for the first time since Byleth started having these dreams, the girl on the throne jolted awake. She straightened on the throne with a yawn and then turned her sleepy gaze to Byleth. She blinked and then blinked again. She let out a confused grunt and then suddenly brought her hand to her throat and began to furiously inspect herself with widened eyes, she looked at her hair, and her clothes, touching her ears and torso, and surveyed the room from floor to ceiling. The girl then looked back at Byleth with a furrowed brow. "Huh."

Byleth was not entirely sure what to do with herself. "Is something the matter," she asked. While historically people would not answer the question, the phrase did seem to help others calm down, and the girl on the throne seemed stressed about something.

The girl tilted her head to the side and hummed consideringly. "I am not entirely sure how to answer that question, but for now I think I should just deal with the cards that I have been dealt, so to speak." She readjusted herself. "Tell me, your name wouldn't happen to be," she hesitated, "well, actually, you wouldn't happen to be the child of Jeralt Eisner, would you?"

Ah, it seemed she may have been a prior client of her father's or a potential one. "I am."

"Okay," the girl muttered to herself with a nod. "I suppose you may call me Sothis. May I ask your name?"

"Byleth," she said, hoping that the conversation would stay this easy.

The girl, Sothis, nodded again. "And" she gave another considering hum. "Which pronouns do you prefer?"

Alas, conversation never remains easy. "Pronouns?" Byleth knew they were a kind of word, but she could not remember a conversation where someone asked her favourite word within a category. Luckily repeating a keyword with a questioning lilt tended to prompt others to explain themselves when talking about something confusing, though whether or not their explanation made sense was another matter.

Sothis muttered something about fantasies under her breath. "What I mean is, would you prefer if I refer to you with masculine pronouns; 'he, him,' feminine pronouns; 'she, her,' gender-neutral pronouns, 'they and them,' or something else entirely?"

No one had asked Byleth anything like that before. Maybe Sothis couldn't tell Byleth was a woman and was trying to be polite? But that couldn't be it because Byleth was wearing armour designed to distract men in battle with her feminine physique, people only got confused when she was hiding her figure under a thick cloak. Maybe Sothis was near-sighted and didn't want to admit it? "I am female," Byleth answered, hoping that would answer the question Sothis actually wanted to ask. Politeness was frustratingly obtuse sometimes, but Byleth could usually make do.

"No, I meant," Sothis sighed. "Never mind, I suppose we can come back to that later," said Sothis. "Anyway, Byleth. I..." she drifted off. "I'm not sure how I should start this."

Oh, she knew what to say here. Byleth's father had a saying he always used when someone said something like this. "At the beginning."

Sothis chuckled, "Oh, if only it were that simple. There are multiple places in which the story could begin. Though I suppose your point of view would work. Remember that dream you had, the one with the war and the woman fighting a man named Nemesis?"