Zanado, the Red Canyon - Afternoon - Clear
Mercer von Riegan
Mercer clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Teach ordered the archers to the back, but Mercer decided he wasn't going to do that. Instead, he stayed close to Sorcha, watching as the bandits scurried to arm themselves, proper, and begin their own assault. This wasn't going to be an easy fight; for someone who'd had to fight most of his life, he was okay with what they had to do. But the way Sorcha had reacted to their first encounter, he didn't want her to be alone through it a second time. Dierdre had looked a little hesitant to remain in the back, her eyes focusing on Sofia for a brief moment, before she seemed to steel herself.
He couldn't blame her; it was a very real possibility that they were about to lose each other. And love like theirs was very rare to find. He almost envied the two of them. Sylvi and Amalthea had stayed close to the Teach, and Senka had, oddly, remained somewhere in the middle. She wasn't in the back, but she wasn't as close to the others as Amalthea and Sylvi were. Perhaps she too felt the need to fight at a closer range? He knew she was decent with magic, but still... he allowed his gaze to focus back on the bandits.
The least he could do is try and take out one or two of the bandits. In total, there must have been about fifteen to twenty of them. It was, by no means, a small group, but against the eleven of them, it shouldn't be too difficult. This was under the assumption that the others would be able to do what they needed: kill.
Vridel was about even with Senka, sword drawn but from the look of it magic also at the ready. His facility with white magic was almost certain to see some use today. Sofia glanced back to her fiancee only once, nodding firmly before hefting her axe in her hand and firming up the front line with Teach and the others. Devon had the rear, and Reynard had once again seemingly disappeared. There was enough cover in this part of the canyon that he might well have found somewhere to snipe from, or to launch a sneak attack of some description.
“I'm here for you, Sorcha, just so you know," he stated, though he didn't quite understand the need to say it. He just thought it would be reassuring to her, somehow. Like it was to him. He didn't want any of his friends to die on the battlefield, and he was going to make sure of that, one way or another.
Her hands trembled where they held her bow. She, too, wasn't content to stay all the way at the back; probably because she had melee options as well and wanted to be in range to help support the front line if necessary. She pursed her lips, but looked suddenly up at him as he spoke, almost as if she was surprised to see him there. “Mercer! I, um..." She swallowed audibly. “You too. I mean. I'm here if you... need me."
She grimaced, mumbling something to herself that sounded like “not likely."
“Of course I need you," he responded almost immediately, fixing his eyes into serious state. “One person alone is only so strong, but as long as you're with me," he began, offering her a small smile, “I'd like to think we'll both make it through this, alright?" He wanted her to know that she was also going to be providing strength to him. She, and the others, were the reason he was going to give it his all today. To ensure that everyone lived, even if he didn't.
It wasn't long after that, they finally met the first wave of bandits. Mercer had notched an arrow almost immediately before letting it fly. Unfortunately the bandit he aimed for was wearing an armored chest plate, and the arrow merely hit it with a soft thud before falling. He pursed his lips together, and readied another arrow, letting it loose on another bandit. This time, the arrow found its mark, but it was lodged into the bandit's shoulder. He cried out from the obvious pain, but Mercer didn't have much time to think about it. He readied another arrow, and aimed again.
Beside him, Sorcha kept up a steady rhythm of fire, though he could tell from as close as he was that her fingers trembled on every draw. It didn't seem to hurt her accuracy much, nor did the way she gasped softly after the first bandit fell to her arrow in his throat.
“Survive," she whispered, turning her next shot on someone trying to approach Senka from the side. “Survive."
The reminder to herself did not stop the tears from beginning to flow.
In the front, their line was making efficient work of the bandits. Some of them were definitely burn-scarred, and dressed similarly to the ones who'd attacked the three of them during the training exercise. It was no great leap to assume they were the same group. Two of them, bearing the scars of his magic, apparently recognized Vridel and went straight for him. He cut one down, and the other fell to a pair of arrows from Devon.
Sofia kept her side of the line steady with measured, calculated blows. She wasn't a quick striker, but she was patient and sudden when she did decide to hit, and one of her axeblows cleaved a man's head, covering her in gore. She looked like she was about to be sick, but grimaced and held out. The incident, however, blinded her to the man trying to flank on her left.
Dierdre released a wind spell, pushing the man away from Sofia as her eyes were wide with fear. She was trembling as well, but she didn't have much time to react as another tried to attack her from behind. Mercer was quick with his arrow, notching it in place and releasing it in time to catch the bandit in the head. His body slumped forward, and Dierdre nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned in time to deflect an incoming arrow.
Amalthea didn't seem to be doing so well, though. She was visibly trembling, but she had yet to engage an enemy. Senka had kept close to her, deflecting swords here and there, but she could only do so much. Amalthea had gripped her axe, raised it as high as she could, before she brought it down in time to knock a dagger out of a man's hand. And in doing so, she lopped his hand off. His scream, and the blood that poured from his now-missing hand, seemed to startle her and she took a step back. She screamed as the blood covered her, and Senka had to pull her out of the way from arrow. It grazed her shoulder, the arrowhead slicing into it and producing a thin line of blood, but she did not appear to be fazed.
Sylvi had, at this point, worked her way through two of the bandits. She too seemed to be having trouble, though, and it was easy to tell that she had been crying, but her expression seemed strange. Her lips were pressed into a fine line, and her eyes seemed to be relaxed. Mercer knew that look. It was the look of someone who wasn't quite there, and was losing themselves in some other thought. That wasn't a good sign, though, and Mercer called out to her.
“Sylvi, stay sharp!" otherwise it would get her killed. She seemed to snap back to reality as her axe became more swift. More accurate, and she was able to push the bandit back. When he'd no more arrows to use, Mercer switched to his sword.
Sorcha ran out at about the same time as he did, and shifted to her lance. Even Devon was on his backup knife now, and Reynard had joined the fray in earnest, a short blade in each hand, cutting down from behind a bandit who'd almost gotten Sylvi.
Vridel shifted in, briefly touching a hand to Amalthea's back. Her bleeding stopped immediately, only what had already soaked into her clothes likely to remain. He hurdled a blast of fire at some of the incoming bandits; their rear line was now making the charge, and they were much more numerous now, in the thick of things.
Over Vridel's shoulder, Sorcha stabbed her lance, catching one who'd managed to duck under the fire and tried to retaliate. Teach, meanwhile, drew back and hurled his javelin, finishing off one of the incoming group and following up with a spell, which took out their left flank. It thinned the numbers considerably, but the incoming collision was still going to be a hard one.
“Brace yourselves!"
Before Mercer could react, there was a loud scream. He could tell it belonged to Amalthea, and immediately his eyes scanned the area for her. There was something wrong with Senka. She was as covered in blood as the rest of them were, however; something was off. She had an arrow stuck in her back, near her shoulder, and was standing in front of Amalthea. From the way it looked, it was as if she'd taken the arrow that had been meant for Amalthea. It was a sudden turn, though. She flung herself, sword in had, at the nearest bandit, catching him in the gut, and pushing him towards the ground. Immediately, there was a flame in her hand, and she was pushing it in the bandit's face, burning it off. The man screamed in anguish, and for a moment, even Mercer winced. It was bloodcurling and painful. She pulled the sword from his stomach, and plunged it once again, almost in a repetitive motion until the bandit moved no more.
She was screaming something, but he was too far to hear what it was. When her eyes flickered towards his, however; Mercer felt his stomach drop. It was a feral look, one that only cornered and frightened animals had. But it was also void of everything. Typically she had an impassive face, but there were small tells of what she was feeling. Now... there was nothing. She jumped to her feet, and charged towards another group of bandits, flinging another fire spell at one and clashing swords with another. If Mercer hadn't known better, he would have thought she were an expert with the sword, but there was still something feral and wild about it. She was thrashing about wildly, fighting two at once. A third bandit seemed to join the fray, but Senka showed no signs of letting up. It was like watching a caged animal, fight, and Mercer was certain that Senka wasn't quite there.
Amalthea had, at this point, retreated towards Mercer, tears clear as day in her eyes. “Mercer! She's not... she won't stop! She's not listening," she stated in a panic. He clenched his jaw tightly, and glanced around the field to see if there was someone close by.
“Sorcha, Teach! Something's not right with Senka," he shouted once he spotted them. It was at this point that most of the bandits seemed to focus their attacks on her, and she was being surrounded by at least three more. She wasn't going to last much longer, if the way she was breathing heavily was anything to go by. A couple of the bandits managed to slice her arms, and one tried to get her legs, however; she moved so that it caught her in the side. And then there was rage. Mercer wasn't sure if he'd ever seen so much emotion on her face, before. It was unnerving. “Amalthea, go," he stated, ushering her in the direction of Devon and the others. She nodded her head, and immediately, her eyes went wide. Without hesitation, her grip on her axe tightened, and she threw it at a bandit trying to get to Devon. It landed square in his chest, deep enough that it would likely take a great deal of strength to remove it, however; she stretched her arm out and used the enchantment to call it back to her.
Mercer turned his attention back towards Senka. She was still surrounded, and he was out of arrows.
“Sen! Senka!" Sorcha's tone was desperate; she broke from the line to try and get to her friend, only to find herself quickly accosted by two more bandits. She scored a quick jab to one of them, sending him reeling backwards, but before she could finish him, the other stepped in and disarmed her. Left with few options for defense, she scrambled, blocking the next blow with her bow. It broke under the bandit's sword, and she screamed as it cut into her shoulder afterward, but remained standing.
“Mercer!" Cyril was suddenly beside him, hurling the javelin into the uninjured bandit before he could finish her. “Get to Sorcha. Pull her back behind the line. Vridel, you're on standby for her and Senka."
So saying, he sprinted for where Senka was still tangled with her foes, arms cracking with lightning magic. He drove his fist for the first, landing a heavy blow at the base of the bandit's spine with a wet crack. If that hadn't killed him outright, the magic surely would have, and it jumped to the next foe, jolting him as he was about to make a swing. Cyril grabbed him, still on the move, and physically threw him into his compatriots, knocking them away from Senka. A blast of dark magic went at the lot, but the professor didn't so much as wait to see the result.
Instead, he grabbed Senka by the collar, disrupting her balance and deftly disarming her. With one arm, he hoisted her onto his shoulder, and the other held the sword, which he used to run through the one bandit who'd survived the magic and tried to lunge for him now that he was encumbered with the weight of another person.
Mercer was quick to move, finding Sorcha's side in a matter of seconds. She was holding the javelin Teach had thrown, but she didn't seem to be handling it well. Probably because her arm had been injured. When that had happened, Mercer felt something in his stomach, twist. He'd felt sick, as if he'd somehow failed to do something he said he was going to do. Protect. She had been injured because he wasn't quick enough when he needed to be.
When Teach had grabbed Senka, she'd immediately started slamming her fists into his back, screaming at him to let her go, that she needed to get back to them. Whoever they were. He turned his attention back to Sorcha, though, and pursed his lips together. “Hey, are you all right?" he asked, knowing it was a stupid question to ask. Still... he couldn't... he needed to know she would be okay. That she was okay, physically.
She grimaced; there were smears of blood all over her clothes and light leather armor. Most of it wasn't hers, he could tell, but a fair amount of it was, too. “I'll be—better when this is over," she admitted, shifting the javelin to her left hand, and hurling it. She wasn't nearly as good with it as her right, but it still connected with enough force to knock a bandit off-balance, and Reynard quickly finished him.
She summoned the weapon back and lined up another throw. Despite all the viscera on her face, clear tracks were obvious from her eyes to her jaw. It was hard to tell if she were still crying, but it almost didn't matter. The damage had clearly been done. To all of them.
The bandits were almost done for, though, and even as Cyril brought Senka back for healing, ignoring both the fists pounding into his back and her desperate cries, he made eye contact with the last man standing, pointing over the intervening distance with Senka's sword. A crackle of electricity sparked along the surface, coalescing at the tip and striking out, traveling over the field in a hard, shuddering bolt. It struck the bandit leader square in the chest, and he collapsed, unmoving atop the glowing green floor tiles.
There were types of magic capable of such distance. From description alone, that was probably Thoron. Whatever it was, it ended the battle.
Sorcha immediately fell to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest and looking to Teach. “Is she going to be okay?" her voice was tight, cracked with worry, even now.
He hesitated, holding Senka in place while Vridel worked.
“I hope so," was all he said.
Mercer doubted she was going to be okay for a long while, but he decided to keep that to himself. Instead, he sighed heavily, and rolled out his shoulders. They'd all survived, and that was all that mattered, in the end. Even if some of them were likely to have nightmares, or be haunted by the images. All that mattered was that they had all survived. Even himself.
The journey back to Garreg Mach had been relatively silent. No one spoke; Dierdre walked so close to Sofia that it looked like she was occasionally tripping over the woman's feet. Amalthea had nearly tucked herself into Sorcha, but kept a respectful distance between them. Sorcha, though, didn't seem to mind, and readily put her uninjured arm over Amalthea's shoulders, pulling her a little closer, so they were walking in step. And Senka, she'd stayed near Vridel and Teach, her eyes on the floor every step of the way. They were all going to need some time, after this.
“You should take Senka and yourself to Professor Manuela, get a look over," he stated in a low voice to Sorcha. Vridel's magic could only do so much for them, and he was certain they could both use it. All of them could, but out of the group, they'd sustained more injuries. Amalthea had a scratch on her face that would heal, given some time, and Dierdre had sustained some injuries. But they weren't anything she couldn't handle. The others were likely to have injuries as well, but Mercer considered himself rather lucky that he just had a couple of bruises.
“I will," she replied just as quietly. “Maybe Vivi will come too. He doesn't act like it but he's got to be about to pass out from all that healing." They didn't have too many other people who could do it, and one of the only passable healers was Senka, who was obviously in no shape to help.
As they approached the monastery entrance, Teach dropped back to walk for a moment beside Mercer. His eyes didn't leave Senka's back even as he spoke; it would seem he was still wary of her wounds. “I'm required to report to the Archbishop as soon as we arrive," he said, tone flat but somehow harder than the one he usually used. Certainly not nearly the same one he used with his students. “Would you be interested in coming with?"
“Fine by me," he replied almost instantly. He wanted to see what Rhea had to say for herself, sending them into a battle like that. He could understand if it were him, and maybe Vridel and Teach, but the others? They were clearly not ready for this. Taking another person's life wasn't something that people could easily do, especially people with relatively soft hearts like Thea and Sorcha. That... he felt his chest clench painfully as he walked with Teach towards the Archbishop's office.
When they'd arrived, Rhea's face immediately furrowed from the smile she had been wearing. Clearly she wasn't expecting Mercer to be there, but she ignored him for the moment, and turned back towards Cyril. “So, you have safely disposed of those bandits. I pray that their souls find salvation," she stated, sincerity laced in her voice, but Mercer knew that it was not genuine. Her brows furrowed once more, her eyes shifting towards Mercer.
“But why did they target the students to begin with?" she questioned, closing her eyes for a moment before she continued, “We must further investigate the true cause of all that took place. Until we know more, I ask that you support the students and relieve them of any unnecssary worry." Her eyes were still on Mercer when she spoke.
Cyril's face was blank as ever, but with time, Mercer was getting a read on the subtle differences in it. It would have been hard for someone like Rhea to tell, who never saw him with his students, but this kind of blankness was much harsher than the kind he had with them. “I'll do what I can for them," he said, but something about it suggested it wasn't really a promise to relieve 'unnecessary worry.'
Her expression shifted slightly, but it was so quick that Mercer wasn't sure he'd seen it properly. Instead, she nodded her head. “Good, I have high expectations for you." That was a rather odd statement, to Mercer. Why would she have high expectations for Teach? “By the way," she began, eyes sliding back to Cyril, “how was your time in Zanado?"
“Legend has it, in ancient times, a goddess alighted upon this world in that very canyon. For a goddess from the heavens, Zanado could only have been a temporary haven," she spoke, her voice light, as if she were recalling a fond memory.
Teach tilted his head, something about the information apparently catching his interest. “And this would be... your goddess? The one worshipped here?" Apparently he hadn't been exaggerating his lack of knowledge on the subject.
She didn't bother hiding the flash of disappointment across her face. She nodded her head, nonetheless, and sighed softly. “Long ago, the divine Seiros received a revelation from the goddess. A gift, to help guide the lost," she began, causing Mercer to purse his lips together. “The goddess is always watching over Fódlan from her kingdom above, however; in ancient times, the goddess graced this world with her presence," she explained, causing Mercer's frown to deepen, “and offered salvation to the people here."
“She is the mother of all life, the arbiter of every soul," she continued, but the way her voice sounded caused Mercer to take a mental note of it. It wasn't of someone who truly believed in the goddess, but of someone who had experienced it before. That, in itself, was strange. He'd have to tell Vridel about it, later.
Before Teach could reply to this, Lady Lyanna entered, walking somewhat briskly, the skirt of her white gown rippling with the motions. “Your pardon, Lady Rhea," she said, executing a neat bow. “As you requested, I have arranged matters with the knights for the Professor's next mission." She half turned, showing no outward surprise at Mercer's presence.
When Rhea gave a small nod, she elaborated. “We have received reports that Lord Lonato has rallied troops against the Holy church of Seiros." There was something curiously flat about her voice when she named the Church.
Teach's eyes narrowed slightly. “Why would he do that?"
Rhea shook her head, “Lord Lonato is a minor lord of the Kingdom. He has been showing hostility toward the church for some time now." She didn't sound affected by it, though. Wasn't Lonato the one who sponsored Devon? To his credit, Mercer kept the surprise from his face, glancing towards Lyanna and Rhea with a face to rival Senka's and Teach's impassive one.
“A vanguard unit of the Knights of Seiros will soon be dispatched to his stronghold, Castle Gaspard," Lyanna added, crossing her arms. “His army poses no threat to the Knights, ultimately. It is possible the rebellion will be suppressed within a day of initial contact." She shook her head, as if she found it all quite senseless.
“Even so, I would like for your class to travel with the knights' rear guard to deal with the aftermath." Another battle? That meant they would be required to kill again, to fight in another bloody battle for the Church. Something just didn't add up, to Mercer. Something was missing, off, and he didn't like it.
If Teach thought so, too, he was doing a good job of hiding it, at least until he spoke. “This army Lonato has raised... in whom does it consist?" There was the faintest edge of suspicion to his tone.
“Exactly who you'd expect," Lyanna replied slowly. “His house's army, and volunteers to his cause."
Volunteers? But that would mean—
“You intend to send children barely off their first battlefield to kill innocents?" Cyril pressed.
Lyanna's eyes went wide. She darted a quick glance at the Archbishop, and spoke rapidly. “Those who defy the Church are never innocent, Professor. And those you call children are adult enough to lead countries. Armies. They will not be kept from reality." Her jaw tightened, and there was a flicker of something—fear?—in her eyes.
Whatever it was, it kept Teach from replying further. He crossed his arms, but nodded slightly.
Clearing her throat, Lyanna continued as though the interruption had never taken place. “As you know, war zones are unpredictable. We do not expect you will have cause to actually battle, but be prepared for the worst." She expelled a breath. “The knights you will be accompanying will be led by Lady Catherine, the Sacred Knight."
If Teach's response fazed Rhea, it did not show. She merely smiled, as if she were expecting that kind of response. “Catherine is one of our bravest knights, and that is no small feat. Only an exceptional few have what it takes to join the Knights of Seiros," she explained, her eyes sliding to Mercer with a strange uncanniness. “This mission should prove useful in demonstrating to the students how foolish it would be to ever turn their blades on the church..." Mercer felt his jaw tighten.
She might not have speaking about him directly, but damn did it feel like she was. It was enough that Mercer swore he felt a chill go down his spine as she and Lyanna exited, leaving him and Teach behind.
“Did that sound like a threat to you, or was it just me?" Teach's voice was back to its usual dryness, but his eyes were quite sharp.
“And here I thought I was the only one who thought so," Mercer replied, his eyes narrowing in the direction of where Rhea had left. “And to be honest, it didn't sound like one; it was a threat," Mercer knew enough to know a threat when he heard it. “But why would she go about threatening kids? We don't pose much of a threat to her," at least not now.
“Well three of you are set to lead countries," Teach noted. “I don't know much about politics, but if she can scare you young, maybe she hopes it'll stick." He wore a slight grimace, and shook his head before giving Mercer a soft clap on the shoulder. “For now I don't suppose there's anything to be done. Get some rest; I'll tell Professor Manuela you'll be late tomorrow, if you'd like some extra shut-eye."
“You're a life-saver, Teach, you know that?"
He couldn't blame her; it was a very real possibility that they were about to lose each other. And love like theirs was very rare to find. He almost envied the two of them. Sylvi and Amalthea had stayed close to the Teach, and Senka had, oddly, remained somewhere in the middle. She wasn't in the back, but she wasn't as close to the others as Amalthea and Sylvi were. Perhaps she too felt the need to fight at a closer range? He knew she was decent with magic, but still... he allowed his gaze to focus back on the bandits.
The least he could do is try and take out one or two of the bandits. In total, there must have been about fifteen to twenty of them. It was, by no means, a small group, but against the eleven of them, it shouldn't be too difficult. This was under the assumption that the others would be able to do what they needed: kill.
Vridel was about even with Senka, sword drawn but from the look of it magic also at the ready. His facility with white magic was almost certain to see some use today. Sofia glanced back to her fiancee only once, nodding firmly before hefting her axe in her hand and firming up the front line with Teach and the others. Devon had the rear, and Reynard had once again seemingly disappeared. There was enough cover in this part of the canyon that he might well have found somewhere to snipe from, or to launch a sneak attack of some description.
“I'm here for you, Sorcha, just so you know," he stated, though he didn't quite understand the need to say it. He just thought it would be reassuring to her, somehow. Like it was to him. He didn't want any of his friends to die on the battlefield, and he was going to make sure of that, one way or another.
Her hands trembled where they held her bow. She, too, wasn't content to stay all the way at the back; probably because she had melee options as well and wanted to be in range to help support the front line if necessary. She pursed her lips, but looked suddenly up at him as he spoke, almost as if she was surprised to see him there. “Mercer! I, um..." She swallowed audibly. “You too. I mean. I'm here if you... need me."
She grimaced, mumbling something to herself that sounded like “not likely."
“Of course I need you," he responded almost immediately, fixing his eyes into serious state. “One person alone is only so strong, but as long as you're with me," he began, offering her a small smile, “I'd like to think we'll both make it through this, alright?" He wanted her to know that she was also going to be providing strength to him. She, and the others, were the reason he was going to give it his all today. To ensure that everyone lived, even if he didn't.
It wasn't long after that, they finally met the first wave of bandits. Mercer had notched an arrow almost immediately before letting it fly. Unfortunately the bandit he aimed for was wearing an armored chest plate, and the arrow merely hit it with a soft thud before falling. He pursed his lips together, and readied another arrow, letting it loose on another bandit. This time, the arrow found its mark, but it was lodged into the bandit's shoulder. He cried out from the obvious pain, but Mercer didn't have much time to think about it. He readied another arrow, and aimed again.
Beside him, Sorcha kept up a steady rhythm of fire, though he could tell from as close as he was that her fingers trembled on every draw. It didn't seem to hurt her accuracy much, nor did the way she gasped softly after the first bandit fell to her arrow in his throat.
“Survive," she whispered, turning her next shot on someone trying to approach Senka from the side. “Survive."
The reminder to herself did not stop the tears from beginning to flow.
In the front, their line was making efficient work of the bandits. Some of them were definitely burn-scarred, and dressed similarly to the ones who'd attacked the three of them during the training exercise. It was no great leap to assume they were the same group. Two of them, bearing the scars of his magic, apparently recognized Vridel and went straight for him. He cut one down, and the other fell to a pair of arrows from Devon.
Sofia kept her side of the line steady with measured, calculated blows. She wasn't a quick striker, but she was patient and sudden when she did decide to hit, and one of her axeblows cleaved a man's head, covering her in gore. She looked like she was about to be sick, but grimaced and held out. The incident, however, blinded her to the man trying to flank on her left.
Dierdre released a wind spell, pushing the man away from Sofia as her eyes were wide with fear. She was trembling as well, but she didn't have much time to react as another tried to attack her from behind. Mercer was quick with his arrow, notching it in place and releasing it in time to catch the bandit in the head. His body slumped forward, and Dierdre nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned in time to deflect an incoming arrow.
Amalthea didn't seem to be doing so well, though. She was visibly trembling, but she had yet to engage an enemy. Senka had kept close to her, deflecting swords here and there, but she could only do so much. Amalthea had gripped her axe, raised it as high as she could, before she brought it down in time to knock a dagger out of a man's hand. And in doing so, she lopped his hand off. His scream, and the blood that poured from his now-missing hand, seemed to startle her and she took a step back. She screamed as the blood covered her, and Senka had to pull her out of the way from arrow. It grazed her shoulder, the arrowhead slicing into it and producing a thin line of blood, but she did not appear to be fazed.
Sylvi had, at this point, worked her way through two of the bandits. She too seemed to be having trouble, though, and it was easy to tell that she had been crying, but her expression seemed strange. Her lips were pressed into a fine line, and her eyes seemed to be relaxed. Mercer knew that look. It was the look of someone who wasn't quite there, and was losing themselves in some other thought. That wasn't a good sign, though, and Mercer called out to her.
“Sylvi, stay sharp!" otherwise it would get her killed. She seemed to snap back to reality as her axe became more swift. More accurate, and she was able to push the bandit back. When he'd no more arrows to use, Mercer switched to his sword.
Sorcha ran out at about the same time as he did, and shifted to her lance. Even Devon was on his backup knife now, and Reynard had joined the fray in earnest, a short blade in each hand, cutting down from behind a bandit who'd almost gotten Sylvi.
Vridel shifted in, briefly touching a hand to Amalthea's back. Her bleeding stopped immediately, only what had already soaked into her clothes likely to remain. He hurdled a blast of fire at some of the incoming bandits; their rear line was now making the charge, and they were much more numerous now, in the thick of things.
Over Vridel's shoulder, Sorcha stabbed her lance, catching one who'd managed to duck under the fire and tried to retaliate. Teach, meanwhile, drew back and hurled his javelin, finishing off one of the incoming group and following up with a spell, which took out their left flank. It thinned the numbers considerably, but the incoming collision was still going to be a hard one.
“Brace yourselves!"
Before Mercer could react, there was a loud scream. He could tell it belonged to Amalthea, and immediately his eyes scanned the area for her. There was something wrong with Senka. She was as covered in blood as the rest of them were, however; something was off. She had an arrow stuck in her back, near her shoulder, and was standing in front of Amalthea. From the way it looked, it was as if she'd taken the arrow that had been meant for Amalthea. It was a sudden turn, though. She flung herself, sword in had, at the nearest bandit, catching him in the gut, and pushing him towards the ground. Immediately, there was a flame in her hand, and she was pushing it in the bandit's face, burning it off. The man screamed in anguish, and for a moment, even Mercer winced. It was bloodcurling and painful. She pulled the sword from his stomach, and plunged it once again, almost in a repetitive motion until the bandit moved no more.
She was screaming something, but he was too far to hear what it was. When her eyes flickered towards his, however; Mercer felt his stomach drop. It was a feral look, one that only cornered and frightened animals had. But it was also void of everything. Typically she had an impassive face, but there were small tells of what she was feeling. Now... there was nothing. She jumped to her feet, and charged towards another group of bandits, flinging another fire spell at one and clashing swords with another. If Mercer hadn't known better, he would have thought she were an expert with the sword, but there was still something feral and wild about it. She was thrashing about wildly, fighting two at once. A third bandit seemed to join the fray, but Senka showed no signs of letting up. It was like watching a caged animal, fight, and Mercer was certain that Senka wasn't quite there.
Amalthea had, at this point, retreated towards Mercer, tears clear as day in her eyes. “Mercer! She's not... she won't stop! She's not listening," she stated in a panic. He clenched his jaw tightly, and glanced around the field to see if there was someone close by.
“Sorcha, Teach! Something's not right with Senka," he shouted once he spotted them. It was at this point that most of the bandits seemed to focus their attacks on her, and she was being surrounded by at least three more. She wasn't going to last much longer, if the way she was breathing heavily was anything to go by. A couple of the bandits managed to slice her arms, and one tried to get her legs, however; she moved so that it caught her in the side. And then there was rage. Mercer wasn't sure if he'd ever seen so much emotion on her face, before. It was unnerving. “Amalthea, go," he stated, ushering her in the direction of Devon and the others. She nodded her head, and immediately, her eyes went wide. Without hesitation, her grip on her axe tightened, and she threw it at a bandit trying to get to Devon. It landed square in his chest, deep enough that it would likely take a great deal of strength to remove it, however; she stretched her arm out and used the enchantment to call it back to her.
Mercer turned his attention back towards Senka. She was still surrounded, and he was out of arrows.
“Sen! Senka!" Sorcha's tone was desperate; she broke from the line to try and get to her friend, only to find herself quickly accosted by two more bandits. She scored a quick jab to one of them, sending him reeling backwards, but before she could finish him, the other stepped in and disarmed her. Left with few options for defense, she scrambled, blocking the next blow with her bow. It broke under the bandit's sword, and she screamed as it cut into her shoulder afterward, but remained standing.
“Mercer!" Cyril was suddenly beside him, hurling the javelin into the uninjured bandit before he could finish her. “Get to Sorcha. Pull her back behind the line. Vridel, you're on standby for her and Senka."
So saying, he sprinted for where Senka was still tangled with her foes, arms cracking with lightning magic. He drove his fist for the first, landing a heavy blow at the base of the bandit's spine with a wet crack. If that hadn't killed him outright, the magic surely would have, and it jumped to the next foe, jolting him as he was about to make a swing. Cyril grabbed him, still on the move, and physically threw him into his compatriots, knocking them away from Senka. A blast of dark magic went at the lot, but the professor didn't so much as wait to see the result.
Instead, he grabbed Senka by the collar, disrupting her balance and deftly disarming her. With one arm, he hoisted her onto his shoulder, and the other held the sword, which he used to run through the one bandit who'd survived the magic and tried to lunge for him now that he was encumbered with the weight of another person.
Mercer was quick to move, finding Sorcha's side in a matter of seconds. She was holding the javelin Teach had thrown, but she didn't seem to be handling it well. Probably because her arm had been injured. When that had happened, Mercer felt something in his stomach, twist. He'd felt sick, as if he'd somehow failed to do something he said he was going to do. Protect. She had been injured because he wasn't quick enough when he needed to be.
When Teach had grabbed Senka, she'd immediately started slamming her fists into his back, screaming at him to let her go, that she needed to get back to them. Whoever they were. He turned his attention back to Sorcha, though, and pursed his lips together. “Hey, are you all right?" he asked, knowing it was a stupid question to ask. Still... he couldn't... he needed to know she would be okay. That she was okay, physically.
She grimaced; there were smears of blood all over her clothes and light leather armor. Most of it wasn't hers, he could tell, but a fair amount of it was, too. “I'll be—better when this is over," she admitted, shifting the javelin to her left hand, and hurling it. She wasn't nearly as good with it as her right, but it still connected with enough force to knock a bandit off-balance, and Reynard quickly finished him.
She summoned the weapon back and lined up another throw. Despite all the viscera on her face, clear tracks were obvious from her eyes to her jaw. It was hard to tell if she were still crying, but it almost didn't matter. The damage had clearly been done. To all of them.
The bandits were almost done for, though, and even as Cyril brought Senka back for healing, ignoring both the fists pounding into his back and her desperate cries, he made eye contact with the last man standing, pointing over the intervening distance with Senka's sword. A crackle of electricity sparked along the surface, coalescing at the tip and striking out, traveling over the field in a hard, shuddering bolt. It struck the bandit leader square in the chest, and he collapsed, unmoving atop the glowing green floor tiles.
There were types of magic capable of such distance. From description alone, that was probably Thoron. Whatever it was, it ended the battle.
Sorcha immediately fell to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest and looking to Teach. “Is she going to be okay?" her voice was tight, cracked with worry, even now.
He hesitated, holding Senka in place while Vridel worked.
“I hope so," was all he said.
Mercer doubted she was going to be okay for a long while, but he decided to keep that to himself. Instead, he sighed heavily, and rolled out his shoulders. They'd all survived, and that was all that mattered, in the end. Even if some of them were likely to have nightmares, or be haunted by the images. All that mattered was that they had all survived. Even himself.
The journey back to Garreg Mach had been relatively silent. No one spoke; Dierdre walked so close to Sofia that it looked like she was occasionally tripping over the woman's feet. Amalthea had nearly tucked herself into Sorcha, but kept a respectful distance between them. Sorcha, though, didn't seem to mind, and readily put her uninjured arm over Amalthea's shoulders, pulling her a little closer, so they were walking in step. And Senka, she'd stayed near Vridel and Teach, her eyes on the floor every step of the way. They were all going to need some time, after this.
“You should take Senka and yourself to Professor Manuela, get a look over," he stated in a low voice to Sorcha. Vridel's magic could only do so much for them, and he was certain they could both use it. All of them could, but out of the group, they'd sustained more injuries. Amalthea had a scratch on her face that would heal, given some time, and Dierdre had sustained some injuries. But they weren't anything she couldn't handle. The others were likely to have injuries as well, but Mercer considered himself rather lucky that he just had a couple of bruises.
“I will," she replied just as quietly. “Maybe Vivi will come too. He doesn't act like it but he's got to be about to pass out from all that healing." They didn't have too many other people who could do it, and one of the only passable healers was Senka, who was obviously in no shape to help.
As they approached the monastery entrance, Teach dropped back to walk for a moment beside Mercer. His eyes didn't leave Senka's back even as he spoke; it would seem he was still wary of her wounds. “I'm required to report to the Archbishop as soon as we arrive," he said, tone flat but somehow harder than the one he usually used. Certainly not nearly the same one he used with his students. “Would you be interested in coming with?"
“Fine by me," he replied almost instantly. He wanted to see what Rhea had to say for herself, sending them into a battle like that. He could understand if it were him, and maybe Vridel and Teach, but the others? They were clearly not ready for this. Taking another person's life wasn't something that people could easily do, especially people with relatively soft hearts like Thea and Sorcha. That... he felt his chest clench painfully as he walked with Teach towards the Archbishop's office.
When they'd arrived, Rhea's face immediately furrowed from the smile she had been wearing. Clearly she wasn't expecting Mercer to be there, but she ignored him for the moment, and turned back towards Cyril. “So, you have safely disposed of those bandits. I pray that their souls find salvation," she stated, sincerity laced in her voice, but Mercer knew that it was not genuine. Her brows furrowed once more, her eyes shifting towards Mercer.
“But why did they target the students to begin with?" she questioned, closing her eyes for a moment before she continued, “We must further investigate the true cause of all that took place. Until we know more, I ask that you support the students and relieve them of any unnecssary worry." Her eyes were still on Mercer when she spoke.
Cyril's face was blank as ever, but with time, Mercer was getting a read on the subtle differences in it. It would have been hard for someone like Rhea to tell, who never saw him with his students, but this kind of blankness was much harsher than the kind he had with them. “I'll do what I can for them," he said, but something about it suggested it wasn't really a promise to relieve 'unnecessary worry.'
Her expression shifted slightly, but it was so quick that Mercer wasn't sure he'd seen it properly. Instead, she nodded her head. “Good, I have high expectations for you." That was a rather odd statement, to Mercer. Why would she have high expectations for Teach? “By the way," she began, eyes sliding back to Cyril, “how was your time in Zanado?"
“Legend has it, in ancient times, a goddess alighted upon this world in that very canyon. For a goddess from the heavens, Zanado could only have been a temporary haven," she spoke, her voice light, as if she were recalling a fond memory.
Teach tilted his head, something about the information apparently catching his interest. “And this would be... your goddess? The one worshipped here?" Apparently he hadn't been exaggerating his lack of knowledge on the subject.
She didn't bother hiding the flash of disappointment across her face. She nodded her head, nonetheless, and sighed softly. “Long ago, the divine Seiros received a revelation from the goddess. A gift, to help guide the lost," she began, causing Mercer to purse his lips together. “The goddess is always watching over Fódlan from her kingdom above, however; in ancient times, the goddess graced this world with her presence," she explained, causing Mercer's frown to deepen, “and offered salvation to the people here."
“She is the mother of all life, the arbiter of every soul," she continued, but the way her voice sounded caused Mercer to take a mental note of it. It wasn't of someone who truly believed in the goddess, but of someone who had experienced it before. That, in itself, was strange. He'd have to tell Vridel about it, later.
Before Teach could reply to this, Lady Lyanna entered, walking somewhat briskly, the skirt of her white gown rippling with the motions. “Your pardon, Lady Rhea," she said, executing a neat bow. “As you requested, I have arranged matters with the knights for the Professor's next mission." She half turned, showing no outward surprise at Mercer's presence.
When Rhea gave a small nod, she elaborated. “We have received reports that Lord Lonato has rallied troops against the Holy church of Seiros." There was something curiously flat about her voice when she named the Church.
Teach's eyes narrowed slightly. “Why would he do that?"
Rhea shook her head, “Lord Lonato is a minor lord of the Kingdom. He has been showing hostility toward the church for some time now." She didn't sound affected by it, though. Wasn't Lonato the one who sponsored Devon? To his credit, Mercer kept the surprise from his face, glancing towards Lyanna and Rhea with a face to rival Senka's and Teach's impassive one.
“A vanguard unit of the Knights of Seiros will soon be dispatched to his stronghold, Castle Gaspard," Lyanna added, crossing her arms. “His army poses no threat to the Knights, ultimately. It is possible the rebellion will be suppressed within a day of initial contact." She shook her head, as if she found it all quite senseless.
“Even so, I would like for your class to travel with the knights' rear guard to deal with the aftermath." Another battle? That meant they would be required to kill again, to fight in another bloody battle for the Church. Something just didn't add up, to Mercer. Something was missing, off, and he didn't like it.
If Teach thought so, too, he was doing a good job of hiding it, at least until he spoke. “This army Lonato has raised... in whom does it consist?" There was the faintest edge of suspicion to his tone.
“Exactly who you'd expect," Lyanna replied slowly. “His house's army, and volunteers to his cause."
Volunteers? But that would mean—
“You intend to send children barely off their first battlefield to kill innocents?" Cyril pressed.
Lyanna's eyes went wide. She darted a quick glance at the Archbishop, and spoke rapidly. “Those who defy the Church are never innocent, Professor. And those you call children are adult enough to lead countries. Armies. They will not be kept from reality." Her jaw tightened, and there was a flicker of something—fear?—in her eyes.
Whatever it was, it kept Teach from replying further. He crossed his arms, but nodded slightly.
Clearing her throat, Lyanna continued as though the interruption had never taken place. “As you know, war zones are unpredictable. We do not expect you will have cause to actually battle, but be prepared for the worst." She expelled a breath. “The knights you will be accompanying will be led by Lady Catherine, the Sacred Knight."
If Teach's response fazed Rhea, it did not show. She merely smiled, as if she were expecting that kind of response. “Catherine is one of our bravest knights, and that is no small feat. Only an exceptional few have what it takes to join the Knights of Seiros," she explained, her eyes sliding to Mercer with a strange uncanniness. “This mission should prove useful in demonstrating to the students how foolish it would be to ever turn their blades on the church..." Mercer felt his jaw tighten.
She might not have speaking about him directly, but damn did it feel like she was. It was enough that Mercer swore he felt a chill go down his spine as she and Lyanna exited, leaving him and Teach behind.
“Did that sound like a threat to you, or was it just me?" Teach's voice was back to its usual dryness, but his eyes were quite sharp.
“And here I thought I was the only one who thought so," Mercer replied, his eyes narrowing in the direction of where Rhea had left. “And to be honest, it didn't sound like one; it was a threat," Mercer knew enough to know a threat when he heard it. “But why would she go about threatening kids? We don't pose much of a threat to her," at least not now.
“Well three of you are set to lead countries," Teach noted. “I don't know much about politics, but if she can scare you young, maybe she hopes it'll stick." He wore a slight grimace, and shook his head before giving Mercer a soft clap on the shoulder. “For now I don't suppose there's anything to be done. Get some rest; I'll tell Professor Manuela you'll be late tomorrow, if you'd like some extra shut-eye."
“You're a life-saver, Teach, you know that?"