Town of Garreg Mach - Late Evening - Drizzle
Mercer von Riegan
Mercer sighed heavily. He had missed the battle with the Death Knight, but they had found Amalthea at last. She had been unconscious for nearly a week since they found her, and had barely opened her eyes, yesterday. They wouldn't let anyone see her, yet, mostly by orders of Rhea. Mercer didn't quite understand, but he knew that it was Rhea's doing that Thea had almost an entire entourage of knights, guarding her room, and the area outside of her window. They didn't seem to be taking any second chances, and Mercer had found that intriguing. Why so many knights for one person? And why didn't Rhea let any of her friends see her?
He was almost certain she wanted to see them, if not Vridel. What was stranger than that, however, was the girl they had found with Amalthea. No one seemed to know her, however; after a little midnight digging, Mercer was able to find a name for her: Monica. She'd been a student of the academy last year, however; it was thought that she'd went home after her year was up. No one thought anything of it, after that.
He hugged his cloak a little closer to him, making sure he was about as unrecognizable as possible, before he approached Reynard's house. He used the key Reynard had given him, and let himself in. “Darlings I'm home!" he stated, announcing his arrival as he closed the door behind him. If anyone had heard him, they would think he was talking to his family. He supposed, in a way, he was.
“Good evening, dear," Reynard drawled in reply, a flicker of amusement seeping into the words. He happened to be in the front hallway, apparently moving some food from the kitchen to the study, where no doubt Vridel was.
When Mercer entered, it was to find his friend with more or less the same broody look on his face that had been there since they'd found Amalthea. He was surrounded by a stack of books, some of them stolen from the monastery library and some of them probably sent to him from home. He did a pretty good job making it less obvious than other people, but it was a fair bet that he still hadn't slept much since the end of last month.
He glanced up as the others entered, vaguely gesturing at the other chairs around the table and shifting some of the books around so that they'd have somewhere to sit. When Reynard did, he set a large glass of some kind of fruit juice in front of Vi with a loud enough thud to constitute an order. The prince glowered briefly, but pulled it towards himself anyway.
“She still under guard?" he asked dully, clearly expecting the answer.
“Unnecessarily so, yeah," Mercer replied, taking a seat so that he was in front of Vridel. He pursed his lips, though, as he sighed. “I don't understand why Rhea's making such a big deal about it. I mean, Thea's safe, now, but why the need to have her under guard? It's not like she's well enough to do something on her own, and I'm sure she wants to see all of us." And it wasn't like any of them were going to harm her. Quite the opposite, in fact. They were all worried about Thea, even if they knew she was there. Not being able to check in on her themselves was maddening. Mercer could only imagine how much so it must be for Vridel.
“After everything we've found out, that still doesn't explain much," he continued, running a hand down his face in an aggravated manner. “Sure, she's a Cethleann Crest holder, but it doesn't make sense for Rhea to put her under guard. Have you been able to find out anything useful?" because Mercer hadn't. Even with the extra nights digging into the deeper parts of the library, he wasn't able to find much. Though... there was that one thing he found in one of Tomas's books. Something about an Immaculate One, and something about Crest stones.
He'd tell them about that, later, though.
“It was definitely Jeritza," Reynard said with a shrug. “I looked into him a bit. Jeritza von Hrym. Minor Crest of Lamine, first son of the von Hrym family in the Empire. His father's a real piece of work—married some woman just for her Crest and then tossed her and her daughter out after he had a son with the Crest. Apparently he's always been a little odd, but nothing in particular to speak of. Excellent fencer, applied to the Monastery for a position and was accepted three years ago. Interestingly, it seems he was the presumptive guy for the position our Professor ended up with, until Rhea undercut completely by hiring Cyril."
Vi's eyes narrowed. “I think I see conspiracies in everything," he admitted. “Everything seems to come back to Cyril somehow, but I'm convinced he doesn't know anything himself." He shook his head, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “I've been looking everywhere for any kind of reference to a 'Flame Emperor,' but there's nothing. It's like he came out of nowhere. Pretentious bastard."
Mercer could understand, somewhat. “If Rhea is about the Church and all, which she is," everyone knew that, “then maybe it's because Teach has the Crest of Flames. It's the Crest of the goddess, isn't it? Maybe she thinks that Teach, probably a descendant of Nemesis, is the closest thing she'll get to the goddess herself. Remember what Hanneman said; a major Crest is the closest in bloodties to the Hero. If that is, indeed, true, then that might be why she's so interested in Teach." It didn't seem remarkably romantic, after all.
Teach was a good-looking guy, but so were a lot of the other people at the monastery. Rhea could, literally, have her pick considering she was a beautiful woman, so if it wasn't romantic, it had to be something else. “That, or maybe she thinks Teach can be of some use to her to gain more followers. We know that the Western Church had issues with the Central Church, so if that were the case..." he trailed off. That didn't make much sense, either.
As far as this Flame Emperor, it could have been anyone. Mercer wasn't there, so he had no idea where to even begin gathering information on him, and if Vridel had no such luck, well... what luck did Mercer have? “We'll just have to see what crumbs we can find about the Flame Emperor. There's only one nation that I know of that claims any sort of emperor title; maybe he's someone from the Empire?" Mercer mused. In the Kingdom, there were Kings, and in the Alliance, there were Leaders. The Adrestian Empire was the only nation known to use the word Emperor.
“Not that the title means all that much, anymore," Vi replied with a huff. “It hasn't since the Insurrection. Could be that someone wants the title and the power that used to go with it, but if that was the case he should've just let the Death Knight at me. Cyril might've been able to interfere, but..." He shrugged. “Maybe not, too."
“Actually..." Reynard broke in, leaning back and propping his legs up on the chair. He withdrew his pipe from somewhere, lighting it with a flicker of magic and drawing in a lungful of smoke before exhaling as he spoke. “There's something to that. The Flame Emperor appeared right as the Death Knight might have killed you, and maybe the Professor too." He contemplated this for a moment, head tilted to the side. “Or at least I'll wager they figured he could. I'm not as sure, myself. Regardless... the order to stop from their perspective saved two lives right in the nick of time. Which one was essential to them, I wonder?"
Vi grimaced. “I was two seconds from charging him," he admitted. “But I'm sure the Professor would have gone with. You're saying you think this Flame Emperor specifically wanted one of us alive?"
Reynard shrugged carelessly. “It's a possibility we should consider."
“But why?" Mercer stated, wincing slightly at the way it sounded. “I mean, like you said, Vi. If this Flame Emperor wanted the title, then he could have let Jeritza kill you. It might be that he wants Teach. Think about it. Not many people know Teach has the Crest of Flames, yet. Even with the Sword of the Creator, I highly doubt many people will recognize the weapon for what it actually is. It's been a long time since someone saw it, and I'd wager that the only people who know are at the monastery."
“It's something to go on, for now, though. We'll have to see what else we can come up with. Is there anything else that seems strange, other than that? And the fact that Rhea is a total... uh, witch for keeping Thea away from her friends?" He glanced between Reynard and Vridel, setting his hands in front of them to lean his chin on them.
“Well you know about the part where Lyanna and Rhea were pretty sure Thea was taken because of something to do with her blood," Vi said, a scowl forming over his features. “What I might not have told you is that Lyanna's pretty clearly afraid of the Archbishop. Not in the same kind of way we all think she's up to something either—like actually afraid of her. I can't put my finger on why, but it might be the reason Rhea gets away with the things she's done to Thea. Because fighting her on it would have been even worse for them. I thought at first that Lyanna must not care much about her sister, but she very clearly does."
Reynard nodded. “There is... an unsettling dichotomy, in how people think of the Archbishop," he observed, exhaling another cloud off to the side. “At a certain distance she is almost fanatically loved. Catherine and Alois and Sir Gilbert are good examples of such. Devotion to her almost seems synonymous with devotion to the Church. And yet those in her innermost circle, or who have been there—The Professor, Sir Jeralt, Lyanna... these people are either wary or afraid. I think we should take it seriously that the person who knows more about Rhea than anyone else has that kind of response. What does she know that we do not?"
“It's not like we can outright ask Lyanna about it," Mercer mused. She was likely to say nothing at all if she was truly afraid of Rhea. Who was Rhea that it produced such a strong emotion in Lyanna? And to say nothing of her followers. Mercer knew a thing or two about devout people who believed more in some unknown being rather than what they could see now. Blind faith, as his mother had put it, once.
“Still, it's something to go on. I wonder if I can find anything about it in Tomas's stash of books. He has a relatively large amount of books with interesting information," he stated. He was about to say more, however; there was a brief knock on Reynard's door, causing Mercer's eyes to narrow slightly. “Were we expecting someone?" he asked in a hushed voice.
“No." Motioning for them to be quiet, Reynard approached the door. Mercer could hear him open it, then the low sound of his voice, followed by another that sounded familiar somehow. Two sets of footsteps headed back down the hall, and Reynard reentered the room, shaking his head faintly. “Seems we're not as subtle as we thought, gents."
Cyril's expression was almost mirthful at that, and he regarded them without harshness. “Plenty subtle," he replied. “I just know the best information broker in Garreg Mach, is all. I, uh, hope you do not mind. But I thought perhaps I could guess why you were meeting out here, and I might be able to help you."
Mercer shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose you're not wrong, Teach. We're secretly married, the three of us, and we just like spending some quiet time together out here, you know?" Mercer stated, offering Teach a lopsided grin. He gestured to one of the empty chairs, though, and shook his head. “We don't mind, Teach. It was only a matter of time, I guess, when we'd include you," because Mercer was certain they would, “but do tell. What insight could you give us?"
He snorted softly at the joke, but took a seat easily. “Well if I'm interrupting I'd gladly depart..."
Vi rolled his eye, but there was a flicker of a smile at the edge of his mouth for the first time in a while. “Why leave when you can join?"
“Was that a proposal?"
“Only if you're interested."
“Please say you're interested."
Teach actually chuckled at that, halfway motioning towards the tray of food and drinks. When Reynard nodded easily, he took up what seemed to be a savory pastry of some kind and bit into it before continuing. “You're all suspicious of the Archbishop, right? I've been trying to include you in my meetings with her, but I think it's backfiring. There's some information it might just be better to give you secondhand."
“Any idea why she's obsessed with you?" Vridel asked flatly.
“Not really, but... I think it might be connected to some other things that have been happening. You remember when that 'Crest Scholar' showed up and started harassing Senka?"
“Heard you nearly broke him in half," Reynard remarked, resuming his use of the pipe now that he seemed to be sure all was well. So to speak.
Teach shrugged. “The thing is, I'm pretty sure the information had to come from one of exactly three people: Hanneman, Lyanna, or Rhea. Hanneman because he discovered it, and would have been required to report that information to Lyanna, who in turn is obligated to report it to Rhea. Of the three..."
“It has to be the Archbishop," Reynard finished.
“Can't think of any reason anyone else would do it. And Rhea..." He grimaced. “She doesn't like how well I get along with any of you. She also didn't want Senka to be given her relic weapon."
“But Relics are, technically, birthrights. They've been handed down to each Crest bearer for nearly generations, now. I'm set to inherit Failnaught when I become Duke von Riegan, as I'm sure Vridel will inherit his when he becomes Emperor. Wouldn't Blutgang belong to Senka by right?" Mercer stated out loud. Relics were given to each respective house; why would Rhea try and keep Senka's?
“And what reason would the archbishop have to do that, though? Senka hasn't done anything to offend her, and for as long as we've all known her, she's kept close to all of us. Senka's a good-hearted person, much like her best friend, so why target her at all?" he added. Sure she had her issues, but she was working through them. At least from what Mercer was able to tell.
He also had an idea as to the why, but it only made sense if the archbishop had some emotional attachment to Teach. Since it seemed that she didn't have that kind, why try and bring down Senka and keep her relic from her?
“I don't know," Teach admitted.
“The Relics are birthrights only because the Church at some point said so," Reynard pointed out. “And any but the ones they've officially given away are Church property. Blutgang falls under that rule. In theory, the Archbishop could decide that the next heir of any house isn't 'worthy' of their Relic and demand it back."
“If she wanted to start a war," Vi added with a snort.
Reynard nodded. “It probably would, considering how much people rely on them for survival, but legally... it's her right. It's a threat she can hang over anyone in negotiations, and if she did it to punish only one country well..."
“None of us like each other enough to band together," Vi finished. “The others would probably side with the Church, or at least not interfere. Maybe hope that by lending their armies to enforcement, the Church would grant them land afterwards. It would be an extreme move for her, but possible. And for someone like Sen, who isn't officially part of anyone's government or a recognized noble house, there's nothing to stop Rhea at all."
Mercer furrowed his brows. “She's a relative of Rodrigue's, isn't she? House Fraldarius is recognized by the Church in the Kingdom. Rodrigue could, theoretically, adopt Senka into his household. Wouldn't that put her in some kind of position?" he stated. Not that it would likely happen. She was his niece, from what Mercer understood, and he didn't know if Senka's mother was listed or not in their registry. If she wasn't, well... he supposed that answered that question.
“The more I hear about Rhea, the less I like," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He never liked the woman to begin with, but she was targeting his friends, now. Who was to say she wouldn't go after him, next, or worse, Sorcha? “I just don't get it. Her interest in you has only increased ever since you were given the Sword of the Creator. What makes that so special?" other than the fact that it was supposedly a match for Teach's Crest.
“I don't know that, either, except... there's a couple of things about it that are a bit odd." Teach paused in his eating, expelling a breath through his nose. “So Maurice—the creature from last month that seemed to be him—called it the Sword of the King, not the Sword of the Creator. Also... it doesn't seem to have a Crest Stone. Those are necessary, right?"
“They're what links a Relic to a Crest," Vi replied. “Like... a bridge, between the Crest and the sword or bow or whatever kind of thing it is. Theoretically it should be all but useless without one, but you seem to be able to use it just fine."
Mercer furrowed his brows. “Well that would make some sense. Nemesis was the first known person to wield the sword," he mused out loud. “He was known as the King of Liberation, so... wait a minute," Mercer turned his eyes to Cyril. “You mean to tell me that that creature was actually the Maurice? As in the forgotten hero?" It sounded incredulous to Mercer. “Wouldn't that have made it like almost a thousand years old? How? How is that possible? And if it called your sword the Sword of the King, then that means... ugh." Mercer ruffled his hair with both of his hands.
It didn't make any sense! None. Or... maybe it did and he couldn't seem to make sense of it.
“Here's the thing; I found information about Crests and Crest Stones in one of Tomas's books. It said that Crest Stones are carved with a specific Crest, ones that match a bearers in order to use it safely. That would mean that Crest Stones might actually be what give Relic's their unique power. So... if the Crest Stone to the Sword of the Creator, or King, whathaveyou, is missing..." he trailed off, humming a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat.
“You've always been weirdly strong, right, Teach?"
He looked unsure, pausing as he took a drink from one of the glasses on the table. “What would qualify as 'weird' in this case?" he asked.
Reynard snorted. “How old were you when you could first lift a cart, or keep pace with a warhorse at canter?"
Teach blinked, setting his glass down. “I don't know, exactly," he admitted. “Since I'm not sure how old I am. But I could do either of those things... maybe seven or eight years ago?"
“Then yes," Reynard finished, turning his attention to Mercer. “He has. Why do you ask?"
“I believe Crest Stones might be able to give inhuman power to the Relic's. But... no, 'cause then that would mean that Teach was a Crest Stone of some sort," which didn't seem all that plausible. Crest Stones were physical; Teach was, too, however, just not a Stone. He pushed a sigh through his nose, and shook his head.
“This right here," he stated, pulling the sheet of paper he'd torn out of Tomas's book from his pocket, and showed it to the others. “It's called The Immaculate One. You're familiar with the story, right?" he stated, momentarily forgetting that Teach was not. “It's said that that creature, or dragon, is what the goddess sent to save the followers of Seiros, but it's not mentioned in anything else. Who did it save them from? Was it Nemesis? Because we all know that Seiros led an army, not some strange, whatever that is."
“The Church tells both of these stories?" Teach asked. “Was this creature an ally of Seiros's or something? Sent to help the chosen saint or whatever she supposedly is?" he sounded quite skeptical, perhaps not surprisingly.
“What's that? On its head?" Vi narrowed his eyes, tapping the crature's brow in the picture. “Is that... the Crest of Seiros?"
Mercer glanced closer to the picture. Sure enough, there was a Crest of Seiros in its forehead, however; there was something strange about its location. There was something circular, red-like in appearance. “It's a Crest Stone of Seiros," he stated out loud. “Why does it have a Crest Stone of Seiros, though?" that would imply that this creature, whatever it was, was Seiros.
“That... does that mean that this creature is Seiros? Or at least... somehow bound to her, or something?"
“You sure that's a stone? It looks like part of its body. Not a rock, at least." Reynard was frowning at it. “Unless maybe it's a Relic, the creature. I've seen a few old drawings, of... mechanical weapons. Big ones. It was a long time ago now, though. I'm afraid I don't recall them well."
“Dagdan?" Vi asked, though it wasn't clear why that should be his guess.
Reynard shook his head. “I don't think so. They don't have anything like it now that I'm aware of. The drawings were old, I think. But I was only a kid when I saw them. I don't remember much."
Mercer was almost certain that it was a Crest Stone. “It's not a Relic. I'm not entirely sure how I know that, but it's not. There was something mentioned about it being a beast. And we all know how real those beasts are," he was of course referring to the creatures they'd fought last month. Sighing through his nose, he leaned back in his chair. “It's a lot of information to digest, that's for sure." He glanced towards the others.
“Alright, that's my show-and-tell. Who wants to go next?"
Vridel and Reynard looked at each other and shrugged. “Don't really have anything else at this point. What about you, Professor?"
Teach was silent for a long moment, as if working something out in his head. His expression changed slightly a few times in the process—perhaps his thoughts were at odds with each other. After a moment, though, he sighed quietly. “It's hard to show," he admitted. “But too unbelievable to just tell. I think... maybe I could show you one at a time. So to speak."
What seemed to be no more than a moment later, Vridel's expression morphed into one of shock. “Fuck," he breathed, eyes wide and exhaling with something like wonder. “I can't believe that actually just happened. You really—" He looked for all the world as though some incomprehensible mystery had been set in front of him, and the source of it was Teach.
Mercer was confused. “Uh, what just happened?" or didn't happen? “Did you break Vi, Teach? I'm not sure Thea would appreciate it, or Sorcha, but..." he trailed off. Whatever it was that Teach did to Vridel, Mercer wanted no part of it.
“No, you do. Trust me." Vi shook his head. “It has to be seen to be believed."
“I didn't break anything," Teach confirmed. “Or, well... anything besides the continuum of time, I suppose. That's what it was—I rewound time, and only Vridel and I were aware of it. It's... taxing, to take someone else along, but I can do it for the both of you, as well."
“Sounds terrifyingly useful," Reynard murmured, glancing at Mercer. “After you."
“But hey, ladies first, Rey," Mercer replied glancing back at Reynard. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to do that. He believed Teach, in some sense. After all, what reason would he have to lie to them. If Teach said he could rewind time, or fly, who was Mercer to deny that fact? After all the things they'd witnessed, anything was particluarly possible when it came to Cyril. Sighing in defeat, he slumped his shoulders.
“Alright, fine. But... be gentle. Vi's first time didn't look so fun, and I'm not sure I want to end up like that on my first time."
Reynard snorted a laugh at him.
Teach, on the other hand, reached forward. “If you'd be so kind as to take my hand..."
The moment Mercer did, there was—it was hard to describe. It felt almost like something shuddered through the air, and then Reynard and Vi stopped moving entirely, like figures in a sculpture. Then they, and everything else, even the air itself, took on hairline, black fractures, and in the next moment shattered, and they were standing in a void, lit only by faint traces of green and dark blue light that didn't seem to have a source. Teach's eyes were by far the brightest thing in the gloom, luminous quite on their own; the rest of him seemed almost to fade into the dark.
“At the moment, time is stopped, I think." Teach frowned slightly. “In any case I can choose when to go back to. Only works in reverse, unfortunately. Pick a point in the conversation. Preferably after Vridel was surprised; I would prefer not to have to demonstrate to him again, you see."
“Where would the fun in that, be?" Mercer retorted. “Vivi could handle a second time, I'm sure," he continued, but shook his head. “Alright, how about the moment right after I asked what happened. It's right after Vi, and before... whatever this was," Mercer stated, vaguely gesturing to their surroundings. He would admit, though, that this was... strange. Stopping time? It was like Reynard stated: terrifyingly useful. He wondered, briefly, if Rhea knew Teach could do this. If so... exactly how much did she know, and what was she keeping from them?
“Also, you can answer after this is done, but, how long have you been able to do this?"
Teach wore the faintest smile, but he did not answer before all at once the world reconstituted around them and they were once again seated.
“No, you do. Trust me." Vi shook his head again, just as he had the last time, with the same expression and inflection and everything. “It has to be seen to be believed."
“I didn't break anything," Teach confirmed, then turned directly to Mercer. “Other than the continuum of time."
“I can see why you'd say that, Vi," Mercer replied, gripping on to the table so as to not fall out of his chair. He felt slightly dizzy, but that may have been the fact that he'd just witnessed time stop, rewind, and then begin again. “Well since Vi's had his fun, I've had mine, Rey, you can either believe us or you can take a ride with Teach. Both, I'm sure, are appealing in both ways but I'll let you decide which one you want to do. Also, Teach, you still have to tell me how long you've been able to do that."
Not more than a moment later, Reynard blinked, sitting up abruptly in his chair, then shaking his head emphatically. “That's... quite a trick," he muttered, looking vaguely disturbed.
“I learned how to do it the night I met the three house leaders, actually," he said, frowning slightly. “Sorcha actually..." His brows drew down, and he trailed off, grimacing slightly. “Suffice to say it triggered when it was very needed. I've only used it a few times since then, mostly just to make sure everyone survives. I was too far away at Castle Gaspard, or I would have there, too, I promise you."
Mercer dropped his shoulders, but shook his head. “All that matters is that we did survive." That counted in Mercer's book.
He was almost certain she wanted to see them, if not Vridel. What was stranger than that, however, was the girl they had found with Amalthea. No one seemed to know her, however; after a little midnight digging, Mercer was able to find a name for her: Monica. She'd been a student of the academy last year, however; it was thought that she'd went home after her year was up. No one thought anything of it, after that.
He hugged his cloak a little closer to him, making sure he was about as unrecognizable as possible, before he approached Reynard's house. He used the key Reynard had given him, and let himself in. “Darlings I'm home!" he stated, announcing his arrival as he closed the door behind him. If anyone had heard him, they would think he was talking to his family. He supposed, in a way, he was.
“Good evening, dear," Reynard drawled in reply, a flicker of amusement seeping into the words. He happened to be in the front hallway, apparently moving some food from the kitchen to the study, where no doubt Vridel was.
When Mercer entered, it was to find his friend with more or less the same broody look on his face that had been there since they'd found Amalthea. He was surrounded by a stack of books, some of them stolen from the monastery library and some of them probably sent to him from home. He did a pretty good job making it less obvious than other people, but it was a fair bet that he still hadn't slept much since the end of last month.
He glanced up as the others entered, vaguely gesturing at the other chairs around the table and shifting some of the books around so that they'd have somewhere to sit. When Reynard did, he set a large glass of some kind of fruit juice in front of Vi with a loud enough thud to constitute an order. The prince glowered briefly, but pulled it towards himself anyway.
“She still under guard?" he asked dully, clearly expecting the answer.
“Unnecessarily so, yeah," Mercer replied, taking a seat so that he was in front of Vridel. He pursed his lips, though, as he sighed. “I don't understand why Rhea's making such a big deal about it. I mean, Thea's safe, now, but why the need to have her under guard? It's not like she's well enough to do something on her own, and I'm sure she wants to see all of us." And it wasn't like any of them were going to harm her. Quite the opposite, in fact. They were all worried about Thea, even if they knew she was there. Not being able to check in on her themselves was maddening. Mercer could only imagine how much so it must be for Vridel.
“After everything we've found out, that still doesn't explain much," he continued, running a hand down his face in an aggravated manner. “Sure, she's a Cethleann Crest holder, but it doesn't make sense for Rhea to put her under guard. Have you been able to find out anything useful?" because Mercer hadn't. Even with the extra nights digging into the deeper parts of the library, he wasn't able to find much. Though... there was that one thing he found in one of Tomas's books. Something about an Immaculate One, and something about Crest stones.
He'd tell them about that, later, though.
“It was definitely Jeritza," Reynard said with a shrug. “I looked into him a bit. Jeritza von Hrym. Minor Crest of Lamine, first son of the von Hrym family in the Empire. His father's a real piece of work—married some woman just for her Crest and then tossed her and her daughter out after he had a son with the Crest. Apparently he's always been a little odd, but nothing in particular to speak of. Excellent fencer, applied to the Monastery for a position and was accepted three years ago. Interestingly, it seems he was the presumptive guy for the position our Professor ended up with, until Rhea undercut completely by hiring Cyril."
Vi's eyes narrowed. “I think I see conspiracies in everything," he admitted. “Everything seems to come back to Cyril somehow, but I'm convinced he doesn't know anything himself." He shook his head, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “I've been looking everywhere for any kind of reference to a 'Flame Emperor,' but there's nothing. It's like he came out of nowhere. Pretentious bastard."
Mercer could understand, somewhat. “If Rhea is about the Church and all, which she is," everyone knew that, “then maybe it's because Teach has the Crest of Flames. It's the Crest of the goddess, isn't it? Maybe she thinks that Teach, probably a descendant of Nemesis, is the closest thing she'll get to the goddess herself. Remember what Hanneman said; a major Crest is the closest in bloodties to the Hero. If that is, indeed, true, then that might be why she's so interested in Teach." It didn't seem remarkably romantic, after all.
Teach was a good-looking guy, but so were a lot of the other people at the monastery. Rhea could, literally, have her pick considering she was a beautiful woman, so if it wasn't romantic, it had to be something else. “That, or maybe she thinks Teach can be of some use to her to gain more followers. We know that the Western Church had issues with the Central Church, so if that were the case..." he trailed off. That didn't make much sense, either.
As far as this Flame Emperor, it could have been anyone. Mercer wasn't there, so he had no idea where to even begin gathering information on him, and if Vridel had no such luck, well... what luck did Mercer have? “We'll just have to see what crumbs we can find about the Flame Emperor. There's only one nation that I know of that claims any sort of emperor title; maybe he's someone from the Empire?" Mercer mused. In the Kingdom, there were Kings, and in the Alliance, there were Leaders. The Adrestian Empire was the only nation known to use the word Emperor.
“Not that the title means all that much, anymore," Vi replied with a huff. “It hasn't since the Insurrection. Could be that someone wants the title and the power that used to go with it, but if that was the case he should've just let the Death Knight at me. Cyril might've been able to interfere, but..." He shrugged. “Maybe not, too."
“Actually..." Reynard broke in, leaning back and propping his legs up on the chair. He withdrew his pipe from somewhere, lighting it with a flicker of magic and drawing in a lungful of smoke before exhaling as he spoke. “There's something to that. The Flame Emperor appeared right as the Death Knight might have killed you, and maybe the Professor too." He contemplated this for a moment, head tilted to the side. “Or at least I'll wager they figured he could. I'm not as sure, myself. Regardless... the order to stop from their perspective saved two lives right in the nick of time. Which one was essential to them, I wonder?"
Vi grimaced. “I was two seconds from charging him," he admitted. “But I'm sure the Professor would have gone with. You're saying you think this Flame Emperor specifically wanted one of us alive?"
Reynard shrugged carelessly. “It's a possibility we should consider."
“But why?" Mercer stated, wincing slightly at the way it sounded. “I mean, like you said, Vi. If this Flame Emperor wanted the title, then he could have let Jeritza kill you. It might be that he wants Teach. Think about it. Not many people know Teach has the Crest of Flames, yet. Even with the Sword of the Creator, I highly doubt many people will recognize the weapon for what it actually is. It's been a long time since someone saw it, and I'd wager that the only people who know are at the monastery."
“It's something to go on, for now, though. We'll have to see what else we can come up with. Is there anything else that seems strange, other than that? And the fact that Rhea is a total... uh, witch for keeping Thea away from her friends?" He glanced between Reynard and Vridel, setting his hands in front of them to lean his chin on them.
“Well you know about the part where Lyanna and Rhea were pretty sure Thea was taken because of something to do with her blood," Vi said, a scowl forming over his features. “What I might not have told you is that Lyanna's pretty clearly afraid of the Archbishop. Not in the same kind of way we all think she's up to something either—like actually afraid of her. I can't put my finger on why, but it might be the reason Rhea gets away with the things she's done to Thea. Because fighting her on it would have been even worse for them. I thought at first that Lyanna must not care much about her sister, but she very clearly does."
Reynard nodded. “There is... an unsettling dichotomy, in how people think of the Archbishop," he observed, exhaling another cloud off to the side. “At a certain distance she is almost fanatically loved. Catherine and Alois and Sir Gilbert are good examples of such. Devotion to her almost seems synonymous with devotion to the Church. And yet those in her innermost circle, or who have been there—The Professor, Sir Jeralt, Lyanna... these people are either wary or afraid. I think we should take it seriously that the person who knows more about Rhea than anyone else has that kind of response. What does she know that we do not?"
“It's not like we can outright ask Lyanna about it," Mercer mused. She was likely to say nothing at all if she was truly afraid of Rhea. Who was Rhea that it produced such a strong emotion in Lyanna? And to say nothing of her followers. Mercer knew a thing or two about devout people who believed more in some unknown being rather than what they could see now. Blind faith, as his mother had put it, once.
“Still, it's something to go on. I wonder if I can find anything about it in Tomas's stash of books. He has a relatively large amount of books with interesting information," he stated. He was about to say more, however; there was a brief knock on Reynard's door, causing Mercer's eyes to narrow slightly. “Were we expecting someone?" he asked in a hushed voice.
“No." Motioning for them to be quiet, Reynard approached the door. Mercer could hear him open it, then the low sound of his voice, followed by another that sounded familiar somehow. Two sets of footsteps headed back down the hall, and Reynard reentered the room, shaking his head faintly. “Seems we're not as subtle as we thought, gents."
Cyril's expression was almost mirthful at that, and he regarded them without harshness. “Plenty subtle," he replied. “I just know the best information broker in Garreg Mach, is all. I, uh, hope you do not mind. But I thought perhaps I could guess why you were meeting out here, and I might be able to help you."
Mercer shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose you're not wrong, Teach. We're secretly married, the three of us, and we just like spending some quiet time together out here, you know?" Mercer stated, offering Teach a lopsided grin. He gestured to one of the empty chairs, though, and shook his head. “We don't mind, Teach. It was only a matter of time, I guess, when we'd include you," because Mercer was certain they would, “but do tell. What insight could you give us?"
He snorted softly at the joke, but took a seat easily. “Well if I'm interrupting I'd gladly depart..."
Vi rolled his eye, but there was a flicker of a smile at the edge of his mouth for the first time in a while. “Why leave when you can join?"
“Was that a proposal?"
“Only if you're interested."
“Please say you're interested."
Teach actually chuckled at that, halfway motioning towards the tray of food and drinks. When Reynard nodded easily, he took up what seemed to be a savory pastry of some kind and bit into it before continuing. “You're all suspicious of the Archbishop, right? I've been trying to include you in my meetings with her, but I think it's backfiring. There's some information it might just be better to give you secondhand."
“Any idea why she's obsessed with you?" Vridel asked flatly.
“Not really, but... I think it might be connected to some other things that have been happening. You remember when that 'Crest Scholar' showed up and started harassing Senka?"
“Heard you nearly broke him in half," Reynard remarked, resuming his use of the pipe now that he seemed to be sure all was well. So to speak.
Teach shrugged. “The thing is, I'm pretty sure the information had to come from one of exactly three people: Hanneman, Lyanna, or Rhea. Hanneman because he discovered it, and would have been required to report that information to Lyanna, who in turn is obligated to report it to Rhea. Of the three..."
“It has to be the Archbishop," Reynard finished.
“Can't think of any reason anyone else would do it. And Rhea..." He grimaced. “She doesn't like how well I get along with any of you. She also didn't want Senka to be given her relic weapon."
“But Relics are, technically, birthrights. They've been handed down to each Crest bearer for nearly generations, now. I'm set to inherit Failnaught when I become Duke von Riegan, as I'm sure Vridel will inherit his when he becomes Emperor. Wouldn't Blutgang belong to Senka by right?" Mercer stated out loud. Relics were given to each respective house; why would Rhea try and keep Senka's?
“And what reason would the archbishop have to do that, though? Senka hasn't done anything to offend her, and for as long as we've all known her, she's kept close to all of us. Senka's a good-hearted person, much like her best friend, so why target her at all?" he added. Sure she had her issues, but she was working through them. At least from what Mercer was able to tell.
He also had an idea as to the why, but it only made sense if the archbishop had some emotional attachment to Teach. Since it seemed that she didn't have that kind, why try and bring down Senka and keep her relic from her?
“I don't know," Teach admitted.
“The Relics are birthrights only because the Church at some point said so," Reynard pointed out. “And any but the ones they've officially given away are Church property. Blutgang falls under that rule. In theory, the Archbishop could decide that the next heir of any house isn't 'worthy' of their Relic and demand it back."
“If she wanted to start a war," Vi added with a snort.
Reynard nodded. “It probably would, considering how much people rely on them for survival, but legally... it's her right. It's a threat she can hang over anyone in negotiations, and if she did it to punish only one country well..."
“None of us like each other enough to band together," Vi finished. “The others would probably side with the Church, or at least not interfere. Maybe hope that by lending their armies to enforcement, the Church would grant them land afterwards. It would be an extreme move for her, but possible. And for someone like Sen, who isn't officially part of anyone's government or a recognized noble house, there's nothing to stop Rhea at all."
Mercer furrowed his brows. “She's a relative of Rodrigue's, isn't she? House Fraldarius is recognized by the Church in the Kingdom. Rodrigue could, theoretically, adopt Senka into his household. Wouldn't that put her in some kind of position?" he stated. Not that it would likely happen. She was his niece, from what Mercer understood, and he didn't know if Senka's mother was listed or not in their registry. If she wasn't, well... he supposed that answered that question.
“The more I hear about Rhea, the less I like," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He never liked the woman to begin with, but she was targeting his friends, now. Who was to say she wouldn't go after him, next, or worse, Sorcha? “I just don't get it. Her interest in you has only increased ever since you were given the Sword of the Creator. What makes that so special?" other than the fact that it was supposedly a match for Teach's Crest.
“I don't know that, either, except... there's a couple of things about it that are a bit odd." Teach paused in his eating, expelling a breath through his nose. “So Maurice—the creature from last month that seemed to be him—called it the Sword of the King, not the Sword of the Creator. Also... it doesn't seem to have a Crest Stone. Those are necessary, right?"
“They're what links a Relic to a Crest," Vi replied. “Like... a bridge, between the Crest and the sword or bow or whatever kind of thing it is. Theoretically it should be all but useless without one, but you seem to be able to use it just fine."
Mercer furrowed his brows. “Well that would make some sense. Nemesis was the first known person to wield the sword," he mused out loud. “He was known as the King of Liberation, so... wait a minute," Mercer turned his eyes to Cyril. “You mean to tell me that that creature was actually the Maurice? As in the forgotten hero?" It sounded incredulous to Mercer. “Wouldn't that have made it like almost a thousand years old? How? How is that possible? And if it called your sword the Sword of the King, then that means... ugh." Mercer ruffled his hair with both of his hands.
It didn't make any sense! None. Or... maybe it did and he couldn't seem to make sense of it.
“Here's the thing; I found information about Crests and Crest Stones in one of Tomas's books. It said that Crest Stones are carved with a specific Crest, ones that match a bearers in order to use it safely. That would mean that Crest Stones might actually be what give Relic's their unique power. So... if the Crest Stone to the Sword of the Creator, or King, whathaveyou, is missing..." he trailed off, humming a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat.
“You've always been weirdly strong, right, Teach?"
He looked unsure, pausing as he took a drink from one of the glasses on the table. “What would qualify as 'weird' in this case?" he asked.
Reynard snorted. “How old were you when you could first lift a cart, or keep pace with a warhorse at canter?"
Teach blinked, setting his glass down. “I don't know, exactly," he admitted. “Since I'm not sure how old I am. But I could do either of those things... maybe seven or eight years ago?"
“Then yes," Reynard finished, turning his attention to Mercer. “He has. Why do you ask?"
“I believe Crest Stones might be able to give inhuman power to the Relic's. But... no, 'cause then that would mean that Teach was a Crest Stone of some sort," which didn't seem all that plausible. Crest Stones were physical; Teach was, too, however, just not a Stone. He pushed a sigh through his nose, and shook his head.
“This right here," he stated, pulling the sheet of paper he'd torn out of Tomas's book from his pocket, and showed it to the others. “It's called The Immaculate One. You're familiar with the story, right?" he stated, momentarily forgetting that Teach was not. “It's said that that creature, or dragon, is what the goddess sent to save the followers of Seiros, but it's not mentioned in anything else. Who did it save them from? Was it Nemesis? Because we all know that Seiros led an army, not some strange, whatever that is."
“The Church tells both of these stories?" Teach asked. “Was this creature an ally of Seiros's or something? Sent to help the chosen saint or whatever she supposedly is?" he sounded quite skeptical, perhaps not surprisingly.
“What's that? On its head?" Vi narrowed his eyes, tapping the crature's brow in the picture. “Is that... the Crest of Seiros?"
Mercer glanced closer to the picture. Sure enough, there was a Crest of Seiros in its forehead, however; there was something strange about its location. There was something circular, red-like in appearance. “It's a Crest Stone of Seiros," he stated out loud. “Why does it have a Crest Stone of Seiros, though?" that would imply that this creature, whatever it was, was Seiros.
“That... does that mean that this creature is Seiros? Or at least... somehow bound to her, or something?"
“You sure that's a stone? It looks like part of its body. Not a rock, at least." Reynard was frowning at it. “Unless maybe it's a Relic, the creature. I've seen a few old drawings, of... mechanical weapons. Big ones. It was a long time ago now, though. I'm afraid I don't recall them well."
“Dagdan?" Vi asked, though it wasn't clear why that should be his guess.
Reynard shook his head. “I don't think so. They don't have anything like it now that I'm aware of. The drawings were old, I think. But I was only a kid when I saw them. I don't remember much."
Mercer was almost certain that it was a Crest Stone. “It's not a Relic. I'm not entirely sure how I know that, but it's not. There was something mentioned about it being a beast. And we all know how real those beasts are," he was of course referring to the creatures they'd fought last month. Sighing through his nose, he leaned back in his chair. “It's a lot of information to digest, that's for sure." He glanced towards the others.
“Alright, that's my show-and-tell. Who wants to go next?"
Vridel and Reynard looked at each other and shrugged. “Don't really have anything else at this point. What about you, Professor?"
Teach was silent for a long moment, as if working something out in his head. His expression changed slightly a few times in the process—perhaps his thoughts were at odds with each other. After a moment, though, he sighed quietly. “It's hard to show," he admitted. “But too unbelievable to just tell. I think... maybe I could show you one at a time. So to speak."
What seemed to be no more than a moment later, Vridel's expression morphed into one of shock. “Fuck," he breathed, eyes wide and exhaling with something like wonder. “I can't believe that actually just happened. You really—" He looked for all the world as though some incomprehensible mystery had been set in front of him, and the source of it was Teach.
Mercer was confused. “Uh, what just happened?" or didn't happen? “Did you break Vi, Teach? I'm not sure Thea would appreciate it, or Sorcha, but..." he trailed off. Whatever it was that Teach did to Vridel, Mercer wanted no part of it.
“No, you do. Trust me." Vi shook his head. “It has to be seen to be believed."
“I didn't break anything," Teach confirmed. “Or, well... anything besides the continuum of time, I suppose. That's what it was—I rewound time, and only Vridel and I were aware of it. It's... taxing, to take someone else along, but I can do it for the both of you, as well."
“Sounds terrifyingly useful," Reynard murmured, glancing at Mercer. “After you."
“But hey, ladies first, Rey," Mercer replied glancing back at Reynard. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to do that. He believed Teach, in some sense. After all, what reason would he have to lie to them. If Teach said he could rewind time, or fly, who was Mercer to deny that fact? After all the things they'd witnessed, anything was particluarly possible when it came to Cyril. Sighing in defeat, he slumped his shoulders.
“Alright, fine. But... be gentle. Vi's first time didn't look so fun, and I'm not sure I want to end up like that on my first time."
Reynard snorted a laugh at him.
Teach, on the other hand, reached forward. “If you'd be so kind as to take my hand..."
The moment Mercer did, there was—it was hard to describe. It felt almost like something shuddered through the air, and then Reynard and Vi stopped moving entirely, like figures in a sculpture. Then they, and everything else, even the air itself, took on hairline, black fractures, and in the next moment shattered, and they were standing in a void, lit only by faint traces of green and dark blue light that didn't seem to have a source. Teach's eyes were by far the brightest thing in the gloom, luminous quite on their own; the rest of him seemed almost to fade into the dark.
“At the moment, time is stopped, I think." Teach frowned slightly. “In any case I can choose when to go back to. Only works in reverse, unfortunately. Pick a point in the conversation. Preferably after Vridel was surprised; I would prefer not to have to demonstrate to him again, you see."
“Where would the fun in that, be?" Mercer retorted. “Vivi could handle a second time, I'm sure," he continued, but shook his head. “Alright, how about the moment right after I asked what happened. It's right after Vi, and before... whatever this was," Mercer stated, vaguely gesturing to their surroundings. He would admit, though, that this was... strange. Stopping time? It was like Reynard stated: terrifyingly useful. He wondered, briefly, if Rhea knew Teach could do this. If so... exactly how much did she know, and what was she keeping from them?
“Also, you can answer after this is done, but, how long have you been able to do this?"
Teach wore the faintest smile, but he did not answer before all at once the world reconstituted around them and they were once again seated.
“No, you do. Trust me." Vi shook his head again, just as he had the last time, with the same expression and inflection and everything. “It has to be seen to be believed."
“I didn't break anything," Teach confirmed, then turned directly to Mercer. “Other than the continuum of time."
“I can see why you'd say that, Vi," Mercer replied, gripping on to the table so as to not fall out of his chair. He felt slightly dizzy, but that may have been the fact that he'd just witnessed time stop, rewind, and then begin again. “Well since Vi's had his fun, I've had mine, Rey, you can either believe us or you can take a ride with Teach. Both, I'm sure, are appealing in both ways but I'll let you decide which one you want to do. Also, Teach, you still have to tell me how long you've been able to do that."
Not more than a moment later, Reynard blinked, sitting up abruptly in his chair, then shaking his head emphatically. “That's... quite a trick," he muttered, looking vaguely disturbed.
“I learned how to do it the night I met the three house leaders, actually," he said, frowning slightly. “Sorcha actually..." His brows drew down, and he trailed off, grimacing slightly. “Suffice to say it triggered when it was very needed. I've only used it a few times since then, mostly just to make sure everyone survives. I was too far away at Castle Gaspard, or I would have there, too, I promise you."
Mercer dropped his shoulders, but shook his head. “All that matters is that we did survive." That counted in Mercer's book.