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The fires flared beneath the three armies' flags billowing in the wind. Knights lifted their lances and ran into the fray while mage held their arms up and chanted.

The sky was red.

The people screamed

They ran.

Clashed.

Screamed.

Ran.

Clashed.

Screamed.

Ran.

"You cannot be serious. Again?" A young man with teal hair slammed his glass down on the table. "Why do I still have to watch over Byleth? She's old enough to take care of herself."
The man's middle-aged, blonde-haired father, Jeralt sat off to the side of the table, getting his backpack ready for their next venture out into the market. "Ben, I don't see why it's a big deal to you. She's your sister." he said while indifferently shrugging his shoulders.

Frustration flared up inside of the young boy's heart. "Yeah, Dad. And she's also the reason I haven't made any friends for years." he remarked with bitterness, remembering the glares and quiet whispers he'd see constantly.

Jeralt chuckled lightly, turned to his son, and stroked his beard with a wide smirk. "Oh? Come on, we both know that's not true. What about that one girl who was great at magic?" he asked, hoping that his son would become a little more positive.

Instead, he faced his son's irritated tone. "First of all, she sucked at magic. She just watched me do it. Second of all, that was one girl, and I didn't see her more than a few times." The young man's blue eyes drooped as he looked to the tile floor. "She probably ditched me because she realized I was the brother of the Ashen Demon..." his voice trailed off as he began to swiftly wipe a stack of dishes clean.

"Don't talk about your sister that way." Jeralt told him in a stern tone. "You understand?"

As soon as he heard the words, Bennett dropped the plate he was holding and furiously spun towards him. "No, you need to understand what I've been through! Okay? I take her around like a block of wood and suddenly, no one wants anything to do with me because they see 'The Demon' right next to me. I just wish for once in my life that I don't have to be tied to something she does." he cried out.

Silence ensued for a moment. Bennett's head hung over his shoulders, filled with grief and anger. He loved his sister, but she was different from everyone else. Her face never changed. Her heart never beat. It was almost as if she wasn't even human.

Jeralt stuttered, trying to look for any way to console his child, "K-Kid, please… we both have had a lot of… challenges, I know."

"Oh, you? Challenges?" Bennett snapped. "As if. All you had to do was worry about which bar you were going to go to with your drinking buddies, while I actually did the hard work, stayed at home, and looked after my sister!"

Jeralt tied his sack of belongings together. "My goddess… ugh. Just… fine. You win. Alright? Happy now?" he grumbled.

The son raised his eyebrows and approached his father. "Oh, no. No, no, no. You can't just back out whenever you feel like it. I haven't even gotten to the part where you don't tell us literally anything about ourselves!" Much to the boy's anger, though, Jeralt quickly turned his head away and avoided eye contact with his son. "We still don't know anything about our mom. We don't know why Byleth is… the way that she is. We don't know-"

Suddenly, at that moment, they heard footsteps. Both men became deathly quiet and exchanged shocked looks with wide eyes. A few seconds later, a young woman with hair and eyes much like her brother entered the kitchen.

"B-Byleth! Kid. Come sit with us." Jeralt urged her.

"Y-yes, please come sit." Bennett insisted right along with him.

Without another word, Byleth takes a seat. Her brother and father study her unchanging face, searching for some sign of distress and praying that she didn't hear them speak about her.

"I had a… really weird dream last night. It was about a war." The woman quietly began as she expressionlessly stared at the dinner table.

Bennett and Jeralt exchange confused looks. "A war, huh? Well, that's funny. I don't think there's been a war in over three centuries…" Bennett started, unsure of what else to tell her.

Byleth concentrated on the table. Perhaps it was just a nightmare. However, it all seemed so real… too real, in her mind. Still, she had never seen a war herself, so perhaps that's all it was: A dream.

At that moment, Jeralt suddenly remembered that they had to collect a merchant's payment for the recent job he and his daughter did. He stood up. "Alright, enough chit chat. Ready, Byleth? We have to go pick up the money now."

Bennett looked at her, hesitantly nodded, and gave a sincere but tired smile. "I'll… watch the house. As... always, right?"

"Wait. Can you come with me? Please?" Byleth quickly asked him as she tugged on his glove. Her face continued to have no expressions, but Bennett knew enough to know that her tight grip on him indicated her evident nerves for entering the ignorant world.

"Come on, you'll be fine. See you later." Bennett told her as Jeralt dragged her along. His smile slowly faded as his sister left the house.

The merchant grins as he sees the man's rugged, old face. "Thank you so much for your hard work dealing with those bandits, Jeralt! It's as they say: you are a master swordsman!" He quickly praised him.

Jeralt closed his eyes and sighed, hoping that the client wouldn't babble for much longer. "Look fella, it's not a big deal. Can you pay up now?"

"A-ah, yes, of course. Let me just get my wallet now…" The merchant started. He shifted his eyes around the market scenery to find something to distract Jeralt. Suddenly, behind her, he recognizes the young woman's blank face. He gasped. "Oh. Oh. My goodness! I recognize you. You… there! That woman! Yes, you, you're the Ashen Demon!" he quickly cried out.

Byleth looked down and hid behind Jeralt, who opened his mouth but the merchant continued. "The Ashen Demon… all the mercenary clients have heard about the young woman who swiftly cuts her enemies down without a hint of emotion on your face! HA! It's almost as if you're the world's best killing machine! You're such a legend to us, you know that? It's a shame that you only take missions with your old man here and there nowadays." he remarked, his voice brimming with excitement.

Byleth remained silent. It's not as if she wanted for her face to be the way that it is. Like everyone else, she felt happiness, confusion, and pain. Pain. The feeling that you're hurt. That's what she feels right now, as people assume her to be a heartless machine. She felt everything- it's just that her face just didn't move. It never has.

Byleth felt her chest sink as she heard the merchant chuckle."Look, I dunno why you quit doing solo missions. You could make tons of dough. Honestly! In fact, lemme do you a favor and call this guy I know right no-"

"No," Byleth quickly told him.

"Wh-what? But you haven't even heard the reward." the merchant stuttered.

"I said no." the woman told him as she stared straight into his eyes.

Without another moment to spare, Byleth stepped away from the market stand. The villager's eyebrows furrowed as he was left utterly baffled.

"Stop babbling about things you don't understand." Jeralt angrily told the baffled vendor. "Now, the money, please.

In the background, a boy and a girl are running down the marketplace. The girl trips and falls, cutting her knee. She begins sobbing while Byleth rushes over to her.

"Ah. Yes, of course. I'll get it. But uh…" the merchant began. He looked around again, figuring out how he would change the topic once more as he shuffled the money carelessly and took some coins away. He hands the money over to Jeralt, who studies the currency closely.

Byleth puts a bandage on the young girl's knee.

"So!" The merchant quickly began. "Has your daughter found a special someone yet?

"That's none of your business." Jeralt angrily grumbled, "You paid me five gold coins short. Can you please do something about this?"

The villager nervously laughs as Byleth walks away from the children in the background. "O-oh, did I? Sorry, you uh… have a good eye."

"Y-you know, that's a lot of money I'm giving ya now! Your wife must be thrilled! So, where is your wife anyway? Back at home?" the merchant remarked.

Jeralt tightened his lips as he looked straight at the merchant. Understanding the cue, the merchant put his head down and rather awkwardly handed the remaining money to the working mercenary.