Library - Early Afternoon - Light Rain
Senka Rinaldi
Senka sighed softly, closing the book she'd been reading and crossed her hands in front of her. Things were becoming more lively in the monastery; the knights were making more patrols, seemingly almost stretched thin by the looks on their faces. With the possible assassination attempt, everyone seemed to be getting worked up about protecting the archbishop. The woman didn't seem to need protecting, though. Senka knew strength and power when she saw it; the woman held herself in high regards, and it was clear that hardly anyone else mattered. Anyone not the professor, at least. She felt a light shiver go down her spine. She still hadn't forgotten the way Rhea had glared at her the day they were studying in the library. It was unnerving, however; her thoughts were occupied elsewhere.
Why would someone go to the trouble of making an assassination plan, but leave it on their person when they knew there was a possibility of death? It was just... too poorly planned. It didn't make any sense to Senka. She wondered if her friends felt the same way. She knew Vridel and Cyril were not particularly fond of the archbishop, but she knew they wouldn't allow the woman to come to harm. They had a mission to complete, and they would do it without fail as they always have. It still felt strange, as if the assassination attempt were smokescreen for something else. Something more important, but Senka did not know the monastery well-enough to know what it was. Perhaps that was why she had asked her friends to meet her in the library. The rain made it difficult to meet outside, light as it was, and the library wouldn't seem as suspicious if they met there.
Written exams were coming up, after all, and it would simply look like a study group to most people who cared to look. And she knew there was one person in particular who would. Even though she was the first one there, she would wait patiently for her friends to finish whatever it was they were doing. She wanted to see if they shared her suspicions as well. Maybe her lack of sleep was causing her to see things that were not there, though?
Sorcha, of course, was already there. It wasn't clear exactly what had happened, but she seemed to be doing better in the last few days. At least she was sleeping enough that the dark circles had lifted from her eyes, and though she rarely smiled, that wasn't so unusual. She wasn't as inexpressive as Senka, but true smiles from the Princess had been rare in all the time Senka had known her. Part of it was of course what had happened to her family, but she knew part of it was also pressure from the court, to be many things that she was not in order to make herself a more suitable ruler for Faerghus.
It wasn't too long before Vridel and Reynard appeared, speaking about something in low voices. It was almost certain that they'd share her suspicions; they seemed to have the demeanors for that kind of thing. Devon wasn't far behind, carrying an overstuffed satchel full of books as usual and entering with Sylvi, a genuine grin on his face at something she'd said, it seemed. He was still mourning his foster father, and all of them knew it, but the news that his siblings had both survived the uprisinghad come as a great relief to him, and enabled him to keep up with his studies.
It wasn't long before Mercer appeared, hair disheaveled as if he'd just woken from a nap. For all intents and purposes, that was what he wanted people to believe. Senka knew him a little better than she'd like to admit. Amalthea was next to him, smiling as if she'd found out something entertaining. She waved at the group, though, causing Senka's lips to twitch just slightly upward. It wasn't quite a smile, but she knew they would know she was. That had still been a little strange to her; having people who could read her expressions as if they were clear as day was... nice.
Dierdre and Sofia were next to arrive, Dierdre grinning as she had her arm looped with Sofia's. Senka thought they were a rather lovely couple. Almost complete opposites as far as their personalities went, but it was obvious enough that they cared deeply for one another; loved one another. When everyone was settled at the table, Senka glanced around to make sure everyone was present.
“Is that everyone?" Sylvi seemed to ask, as Mercer shook his head.
“You invited Teach, didn't you?" he asked, glancing towards Senka. She nodded her head. She invited everyone that she could, including their professor. He just hadn't arrived, yet.
It took Cyril another few minutes to appear. He entered the library slightly damp from the rain outside, reaching up to slick his hair back away from where it had fallen in his face. As often seemed to be the case, one particular stubborn strand of inky-black fell in front of his nose anyway, but the rest stayed mostly put.
“I apologize for my tardiness," he said quietly, glancing back over his shoulder with a slightly narrow-eyed expression. He didn't elaborate, however, merely moving towards the tables. The seat left was rather far from Senka, but he along with everyone else was in view, at least.
“And I thought I was usually the late one," Mercer murmured, causing Dierdre to elbow his side. “I kid, Dierdre," he stated, rubbing at his side. Senka merely pursed her lips together as she shook her head. “So I take it we're all here for the same thing?" he asked, earning a nod from just about everyone around.
“Good. This will make it that much easier, then," he began, leaning his forearms against the table. “What do you think the real target is?" he asked, his voice low so that it wouldn't be overheard by unnecessary ears. Senka shook her head, though. She had not the slightest clue.
“Why wouldn't it be Lady Rhea?" Amalthea asked in a confused manner.
“Because they're not actually targeting Lady Rhea," Sylvi spoke, glancing towards Devon for a second before turning her attention back to the others. Senka nodded her head in agreement.
“The assassination plot is a cover for something else, but we don't know what that is, quite yet. You grew up here, Amalthea. Is there anything that comes to mind that would be of importance to this place?" she asked, watching as Thea shook her head.
“I can't really think of anything. "
“What about the timing?" Sorcha asked. “What happens on the day of the Rite of Rebirth that doesn't usually happen?"
Vridel hummed quietly. “The Archbishop and Lady Lyanna spend much of the day in the Goddess Tower, I know that much," he said. “I think... maybe other parts of the Monastery open to the public also?" He looked to Amalthea, as though he expected her to know this. Probably not an unreasonable instinct.
Amalthea pursed her lips together and seemed to be thinking about the question that was asked. “There are a few places that will open up, yes," she finally answered. It seemed that all eyes were on her, now, and she fidgeted a little under their gazes. She took in a deep breath, lips still pursed as she still seemed to think about it. “The Holy Masuoleum, for one, will be open to the public," she finally spoke.
“What's that?" Dierdre asked, narrowing her eyes as she did. Thea chewed the bottom of her lip in a thoughtful manner, and Senka sighed softly.
“It's where the tomb of the divine Seiros, lies. It's said that she slumbers there, eternally," Amalthea finally answered. “It's mostly just a rumor, though. Only Lady Rhea and, occasionally, Lyanna are allowed down there. During the Rite, the public is allowed to go in there, but usually not for very long."
If that were true, why open it at all? Why not just keep it closed off to the public? If Seiros truly slumbered there, why would they risk her being exposed to people?
“After all, it's just an ancient coffin down there." Still, it seemed important enough to warrant being closed off through most of the year. “Oh, the Goddess Tower might also be open to the public," she added.
Cyril shook his head. “The way Lady Lyanna described it to me, she and the Archbishop will be in complete seclusion, there. Not even the Knights are allowed inside. It's why there was concern about the legitimacy of the threat—because if someone could get in there, they could attack those two alone."
“I suppose it would also be a good chance for people to go unnoticed other places, even if they're strangers," Devon pointed out. “On the average day, an outsider in the greenhouse or the library would be obvious, but on that day there are visitors all over the place, so no individual one would be that noticeable. If I wanted to steal something from the Monastery, for instance, I'd pick a day like that."
“Hide in plain sight," Reynard agreed, tipping Devon a respectful nod. The younger man looked genuinely pleased.
“I think we can safely eliminate the greenhouse and the library though," Vridel said. “If they just needed to wander into one of these places, which aren't usually even under guard, they'd want the patrols and guard postings to be normal, not to stir them up with a fake assassination threat. Now there will be moving patrols everywhere. We need to think about places that means fewer guards."
“The crypt," Sorcha said quietly. “If people are only allowed down for a short time, it follows that they're supervised. Someone has to enforce the time, after all. But if the guards are being shuffled around to protect Lady Rhea, then chances are there will be fewer there to do that."
“Giving someone more time to search the tomb," Cyril finished, lifting a hand to rub at his jaw. “But for what? Is anything kept down there except the dead?"
“As far as I know, it's only the tombs. Ah," she stated abruptly as if something just came to her. “I overheard Lyanna say that there are Crest Stones down there," she stated.
“Crest Stones? What are those? I know that people who are descendants of the ten have Crests, but what are Crest Stones?" Dierdre asked, confusion written over her face. Amalthea smiled as if she could answer that question with ease.
“Well, you remember Catherine wielding Thunderbrand?" Dierdre nodded her head. “That was a Crest Stone in the handle. It's like a physical representation of the Crest you bear, if you have one," she explained, though she pursed her lips together. “I don't know much about how they work, but your Crest has to be compatible with that Crest Stone. Catherine said only she could wield Thunderbrand, which means she has a Crest," that was obvious enough for everyone around.
“What is so important about Crest Stones, though?" It sounded as if not just anyone could wield it, so why would they be important if someone had a Crest?
Vridel sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Every Hero's Relic is fitted with a Crest Stone," he said, his voice quiet, almost as if he were reluctant to speak. “It helps synchronize the relic with the wielder's Crest. It's possible to wield a Relic without one, if you have a particularly strong major Crest and you're willing to risk overtaxing yourself. It wouldn't especially surprise me if the Church had extra stones, though I suspect this is something the nobility would be interested to know..."
He looked almost ill for some reason. “They can also be used to... well, never mind. Suffice to say they interact with Crests and allow their power to be tapped more efficiently. Thus they are fitted to Relics."
“Are they of any use without a Relic?" Cyril asked.
Vridel pursed his lips. “Not... to most people. There are a few in the Empire who might have a... different use for them, but those people already have what they need." He fell silent, eyes on the table in front of him, clearly not interested in saying anything further on the topic.
“Okay, so..." Sorcha carefully picked up the thread of conversation, shooting Vridel a concerned glance before continuing. “It's at least conceivable that someone might want to steal the Crest Stones. If they help power Relics, they're certainly worth having. At the very minimum, I'm sure most noble families would jump at the chance to own a spare, just in case something happened to the one in their Relic. That makes the Mausoleum seem like the most likely target to me. How about the rest of you?"
Vridel nodded tightly.
Senka had to agree as well. The Mausoleum was looking more likely to be the place that the culprits truly intended to ask. It wouldn't do any good to notify the knights, or Rhea, about it. Senka doubted that they would believe them. Mercer seemed to agree as well since he nodded his head after Vridel had. Amalthea looked vaguely sick, but that could have been because there were people who would desecrate a sacred tomb. Sylvi pursed her lips tightly, but didn't say anything. Dierdre seemed to acknowledge the statement with a light nod before she turned her attention towards Devon, shooting him a sympathetic smile before she dropped her gaze to her hands.
He smiled back, a little awkwardly—that much was obvious. But he nodded, too, clearly unwilling to let his personal circumstances interfere with getting to the bottom of this.
Senka could understand why, though. The people who planned on targeting the Masuoleum used Lonato's rebellion as a means to do it. They planted the assassination note on him; there was no doubt in Senka's mind about that. Whether or not it he was carrying it willingly or not, the fact remained that those people knew Lonato was not going to survive the battle. Senka clenched her fists tightly at the thought. Those people were despicable.
“I suppose that means that we will focus our efforts on the Mausoleum when the time comes," Senka stated.
Cyril leaned forward there, picking up a piece of parchment and a charcoal pencil. “We'll split into three groups..."
Why would someone go to the trouble of making an assassination plan, but leave it on their person when they knew there was a possibility of death? It was just... too poorly planned. It didn't make any sense to Senka. She wondered if her friends felt the same way. She knew Vridel and Cyril were not particularly fond of the archbishop, but she knew they wouldn't allow the woman to come to harm. They had a mission to complete, and they would do it without fail as they always have. It still felt strange, as if the assassination attempt were smokescreen for something else. Something more important, but Senka did not know the monastery well-enough to know what it was. Perhaps that was why she had asked her friends to meet her in the library. The rain made it difficult to meet outside, light as it was, and the library wouldn't seem as suspicious if they met there.
Written exams were coming up, after all, and it would simply look like a study group to most people who cared to look. And she knew there was one person in particular who would. Even though she was the first one there, she would wait patiently for her friends to finish whatever it was they were doing. She wanted to see if they shared her suspicions as well. Maybe her lack of sleep was causing her to see things that were not there, though?
Sorcha, of course, was already there. It wasn't clear exactly what had happened, but she seemed to be doing better in the last few days. At least she was sleeping enough that the dark circles had lifted from her eyes, and though she rarely smiled, that wasn't so unusual. She wasn't as inexpressive as Senka, but true smiles from the Princess had been rare in all the time Senka had known her. Part of it was of course what had happened to her family, but she knew part of it was also pressure from the court, to be many things that she was not in order to make herself a more suitable ruler for Faerghus.
It wasn't too long before Vridel and Reynard appeared, speaking about something in low voices. It was almost certain that they'd share her suspicions; they seemed to have the demeanors for that kind of thing. Devon wasn't far behind, carrying an overstuffed satchel full of books as usual and entering with Sylvi, a genuine grin on his face at something she'd said, it seemed. He was still mourning his foster father, and all of them knew it, but the news that his siblings had both survived the uprisinghad come as a great relief to him, and enabled him to keep up with his studies.
It wasn't long before Mercer appeared, hair disheaveled as if he'd just woken from a nap. For all intents and purposes, that was what he wanted people to believe. Senka knew him a little better than she'd like to admit. Amalthea was next to him, smiling as if she'd found out something entertaining. She waved at the group, though, causing Senka's lips to twitch just slightly upward. It wasn't quite a smile, but she knew they would know she was. That had still been a little strange to her; having people who could read her expressions as if they were clear as day was... nice.
Dierdre and Sofia were next to arrive, Dierdre grinning as she had her arm looped with Sofia's. Senka thought they were a rather lovely couple. Almost complete opposites as far as their personalities went, but it was obvious enough that they cared deeply for one another; loved one another. When everyone was settled at the table, Senka glanced around to make sure everyone was present.
“Is that everyone?" Sylvi seemed to ask, as Mercer shook his head.
“You invited Teach, didn't you?" he asked, glancing towards Senka. She nodded her head. She invited everyone that she could, including their professor. He just hadn't arrived, yet.
It took Cyril another few minutes to appear. He entered the library slightly damp from the rain outside, reaching up to slick his hair back away from where it had fallen in his face. As often seemed to be the case, one particular stubborn strand of inky-black fell in front of his nose anyway, but the rest stayed mostly put.
“I apologize for my tardiness," he said quietly, glancing back over his shoulder with a slightly narrow-eyed expression. He didn't elaborate, however, merely moving towards the tables. The seat left was rather far from Senka, but he along with everyone else was in view, at least.
“And I thought I was usually the late one," Mercer murmured, causing Dierdre to elbow his side. “I kid, Dierdre," he stated, rubbing at his side. Senka merely pursed her lips together as she shook her head. “So I take it we're all here for the same thing?" he asked, earning a nod from just about everyone around.
“Good. This will make it that much easier, then," he began, leaning his forearms against the table. “What do you think the real target is?" he asked, his voice low so that it wouldn't be overheard by unnecessary ears. Senka shook her head, though. She had not the slightest clue.
“Why wouldn't it be Lady Rhea?" Amalthea asked in a confused manner.
“Because they're not actually targeting Lady Rhea," Sylvi spoke, glancing towards Devon for a second before turning her attention back to the others. Senka nodded her head in agreement.
“The assassination plot is a cover for something else, but we don't know what that is, quite yet. You grew up here, Amalthea. Is there anything that comes to mind that would be of importance to this place?" she asked, watching as Thea shook her head.
“I can't really think of anything. "
“What about the timing?" Sorcha asked. “What happens on the day of the Rite of Rebirth that doesn't usually happen?"
Vridel hummed quietly. “The Archbishop and Lady Lyanna spend much of the day in the Goddess Tower, I know that much," he said. “I think... maybe other parts of the Monastery open to the public also?" He looked to Amalthea, as though he expected her to know this. Probably not an unreasonable instinct.
Amalthea pursed her lips together and seemed to be thinking about the question that was asked. “There are a few places that will open up, yes," she finally answered. It seemed that all eyes were on her, now, and she fidgeted a little under their gazes. She took in a deep breath, lips still pursed as she still seemed to think about it. “The Holy Masuoleum, for one, will be open to the public," she finally spoke.
“What's that?" Dierdre asked, narrowing her eyes as she did. Thea chewed the bottom of her lip in a thoughtful manner, and Senka sighed softly.
“It's where the tomb of the divine Seiros, lies. It's said that she slumbers there, eternally," Amalthea finally answered. “It's mostly just a rumor, though. Only Lady Rhea and, occasionally, Lyanna are allowed down there. During the Rite, the public is allowed to go in there, but usually not for very long."
If that were true, why open it at all? Why not just keep it closed off to the public? If Seiros truly slumbered there, why would they risk her being exposed to people?
“After all, it's just an ancient coffin down there." Still, it seemed important enough to warrant being closed off through most of the year. “Oh, the Goddess Tower might also be open to the public," she added.
Cyril shook his head. “The way Lady Lyanna described it to me, she and the Archbishop will be in complete seclusion, there. Not even the Knights are allowed inside. It's why there was concern about the legitimacy of the threat—because if someone could get in there, they could attack those two alone."
“I suppose it would also be a good chance for people to go unnoticed other places, even if they're strangers," Devon pointed out. “On the average day, an outsider in the greenhouse or the library would be obvious, but on that day there are visitors all over the place, so no individual one would be that noticeable. If I wanted to steal something from the Monastery, for instance, I'd pick a day like that."
“Hide in plain sight," Reynard agreed, tipping Devon a respectful nod. The younger man looked genuinely pleased.
“I think we can safely eliminate the greenhouse and the library though," Vridel said. “If they just needed to wander into one of these places, which aren't usually even under guard, they'd want the patrols and guard postings to be normal, not to stir them up with a fake assassination threat. Now there will be moving patrols everywhere. We need to think about places that means fewer guards."
“The crypt," Sorcha said quietly. “If people are only allowed down for a short time, it follows that they're supervised. Someone has to enforce the time, after all. But if the guards are being shuffled around to protect Lady Rhea, then chances are there will be fewer there to do that."
“Giving someone more time to search the tomb," Cyril finished, lifting a hand to rub at his jaw. “But for what? Is anything kept down there except the dead?"
“As far as I know, it's only the tombs. Ah," she stated abruptly as if something just came to her. “I overheard Lyanna say that there are Crest Stones down there," she stated.
“Crest Stones? What are those? I know that people who are descendants of the ten have Crests, but what are Crest Stones?" Dierdre asked, confusion written over her face. Amalthea smiled as if she could answer that question with ease.
“Well, you remember Catherine wielding Thunderbrand?" Dierdre nodded her head. “That was a Crest Stone in the handle. It's like a physical representation of the Crest you bear, if you have one," she explained, though she pursed her lips together. “I don't know much about how they work, but your Crest has to be compatible with that Crest Stone. Catherine said only she could wield Thunderbrand, which means she has a Crest," that was obvious enough for everyone around.
“What is so important about Crest Stones, though?" It sounded as if not just anyone could wield it, so why would they be important if someone had a Crest?
Vridel sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Every Hero's Relic is fitted with a Crest Stone," he said, his voice quiet, almost as if he were reluctant to speak. “It helps synchronize the relic with the wielder's Crest. It's possible to wield a Relic without one, if you have a particularly strong major Crest and you're willing to risk overtaxing yourself. It wouldn't especially surprise me if the Church had extra stones, though I suspect this is something the nobility would be interested to know..."
He looked almost ill for some reason. “They can also be used to... well, never mind. Suffice to say they interact with Crests and allow their power to be tapped more efficiently. Thus they are fitted to Relics."
“Are they of any use without a Relic?" Cyril asked.
Vridel pursed his lips. “Not... to most people. There are a few in the Empire who might have a... different use for them, but those people already have what they need." He fell silent, eyes on the table in front of him, clearly not interested in saying anything further on the topic.
“Okay, so..." Sorcha carefully picked up the thread of conversation, shooting Vridel a concerned glance before continuing. “It's at least conceivable that someone might want to steal the Crest Stones. If they help power Relics, they're certainly worth having. At the very minimum, I'm sure most noble families would jump at the chance to own a spare, just in case something happened to the one in their Relic. That makes the Mausoleum seem like the most likely target to me. How about the rest of you?"
Vridel nodded tightly.
Senka had to agree as well. The Mausoleum was looking more likely to be the place that the culprits truly intended to ask. It wouldn't do any good to notify the knights, or Rhea, about it. Senka doubted that they would believe them. Mercer seemed to agree as well since he nodded his head after Vridel had. Amalthea looked vaguely sick, but that could have been because there were people who would desecrate a sacred tomb. Sylvi pursed her lips tightly, but didn't say anything. Dierdre seemed to acknowledge the statement with a light nod before she turned her attention towards Devon, shooting him a sympathetic smile before she dropped her gaze to her hands.
He smiled back, a little awkwardly—that much was obvious. But he nodded, too, clearly unwilling to let his personal circumstances interfere with getting to the bottom of this.
Senka could understand why, though. The people who planned on targeting the Masuoleum used Lonato's rebellion as a means to do it. They planted the assassination note on him; there was no doubt in Senka's mind about that. Whether or not it he was carrying it willingly or not, the fact remained that those people knew Lonato was not going to survive the battle. Senka clenched her fists tightly at the thought. Those people were despicable.
“I suppose that means that we will focus our efforts on the Mausoleum when the time comes," Senka stated.
Cyril leaned forward there, picking up a piece of parchment and a charcoal pencil. “We'll split into three groups..."