"Honestly, I'm more than happy to be rid of it. It's always grossed me out." Hilda says placing her relic, the huge axe Freikugal, in the stone tomb.
Byleth nods. She'd be even more disgusted if she knew how the relics had come to be. Hilda moves along unconcerned, but Lysithea who is diligently reading the epigraph on the tomb grows even paler and lays down her glowing staff gingerly, whispering something. Byleth has no interest in hiding the origins of the relics any longer. Their location will remain as secret as possible, but hopefully knowing the weapon's sick story will repel any would-be tomb raider with any sense of decency.
The rest of Byleth's students place their weapons in the tomb and file out, eager to leave the dark cold room. Seteth adds the weapons recovered from their battles with the Empire, as well as Dimitri's ancestral spear. Finally there is only one other person remaining in the tomb.
Marianne steps forward, Blutgang held in her pale hands. She holds it over the pile. "I wasn't happy to wield this sword, Professor. When you insisted and I used it to fight the resurrected Elites, I was so frightened I would share Maurice's fate. But I didn't. I...I did good. I helped people."
She lays the sword down. "So now I want to say thank you. I feel that now I can finally believe that bearing the Crest of the Beast is not a doomed fate. That maybe, my fate is my own. I'm glad we gave Maurice his peace and pray the goddess forgives him."
She bows her head and Byleth places a hand on her shoulder. After her prayer she looks up at Byleth's reassuring nod. Marianne leaves and Byleth looks at the pile of weapons. She shivers and feels Sothis's sorrowful anger. Piled together, it's excruciating obvious that the weapons are made of bone, even with their careful craftsmanship.
"Be at peace my children."
Without realizing it, Byleth whispers Sothis's words as well. Then she reaches for her own Relic. The Sword of the Creator glows in her hand.
"What do you think you are doing?" The goddess twinkles into her vision.
"Shouldn't this join the others?"
"Perhaps. But the world is still not safe. That sword is made of my body, I dare say I have the right to choose it's fate." Sothis places a shimmering hand on Byleth's own, fingers covering both the ring on her finger and the hilt. "You are me and I am you. My children never consented to being used so and these remains should never be wielded again. But I am here now and that sword has my power in it. Let us use it to help protect this new world."
Byleth nods. Sothis twirls around and holds up a finger. "But you must promise not to lose it! And should we fall I do wish to be buried with my children."
With a smile she fades away and Byleth pulls at the piece of timber holding the heavy stone lid up. It falls with a deafening thud. A wide tomb next to a smaller one where the Archbishop rests. Byleth runs her hand of the inscription before leaving the dead in peace.
Here lies the children of the goddess. Abused but now recovered. May their spirits return to their mother and never again be disturbed or denied their peace.
