The Fell Star's Return

Chapter 9: Brigid

A handful of days later, the emotionally turbulent youth is torn out of his attempts at sleep as someone shakes his shoulder. Eyes fluttering open, the boy turns his blurry gaze to the redhead hovering over him.

"Wake up Byleth, it's time to go. We need to leave early if we want to arrive at an appropriate hour."

The teal-haired youngster just stares up at Zane, not understanding what he's talking about, but doesn't get the chance to ask as the man swiftly walks away seeing the child awake.

A small yawn escapes his lips as he watches his door close, leaving him once more in silence. Another child might be tempted to ignore the message and dive back into their pillow, but Byleth never was one to act his age. Unwinding himself from his thin blanket, he swings his legs to the ground and brings his arms up in a stretch, sitting upright on the edge of the inn's bed.

Hands rising to the ceiling, he pauses there and wiggles his back and shoulders, getting a sense of his current state. His hands then wander down across his chest and legs, poking and prodding his form. The absence of the usual pain, whether from training or otherwise, gives him pause.

Overall, he feels physically good and inwardly thanks his teachers for allowing him to rest these last few days.

Glancing up from his body and out the nearby window he's greeted only by darkness, the sun not having begun its ascent for the day. He makes to get ready anyway, not forgetting his early awakening.

After a couple of minutes, the adolescent exits the inn in his usual multi-purpose attire, finding comfort in the weight of the armor and weaponry he carries. Those being his new dagger, as well as several others fastened throughout his body, and a short sword lying on his hip.

Breathing in the night air, he takes in the sights of his father's mercenary group moving in flickering torchlight, presumably headed for the docks judging by their direction.

Deciding to do the same he walks on the dirt path alongside them, but not without a wide berth, completely avoiding whatever commentary they would direct toward him.

Perhaps it's his drowsiness or the boy's best attempts at ignoring his surroundings, but it doesn't take long at all to arrive at their destination.

A large boat stands out to him in the harbor, the deck conspicuously illuminated as men repeatedly move about. Reasoning that they must be there for that ship, he watches as the mercenaries with him proceed to load up supplies onto it before beginning to board themselves.

Instead of doing the same, he looks around, soon spotting his father and Zane standing off to the side by the loading dock. He immediately zeroes in on them, deciding to go to their side.

Creeping toward them under the cover of darkness, though not necessarily intending to hide, the youth perks up his attention as he hears a muffled argument going on between the two that becomes ever clearer as he moves closer.

"I told you Zane, that I had no interest in heading to Brigid! So why in the hell did you tell that trader we could help with her request?!"

"Come on Captain, we've already been through this! She's going to pay top coin for such a simple job that will only take a week or two at most. Plus, we can enjoy the warm weather while we're there. Isn't this a win-win?"

Jeralt bristles at the reply, "Listen, Zane, am I or am I not the captain? I don't need to give you a reason why we shouldn't do something. I said no Brigid, and as my vice-captain, I expected you to heed my words and –"

"Am I the vice-captain, or at this point should I just drop the vice?"

"Huh?" Jeralt is visibly taken aback by his subordinate's fiery interruption, but before he can get a word out, he keeps speaking.