Returning to the Monastery, Cetanu ordered his students to split up, giving them time to rest and recuperate from the ordeal. The weather was still poor, and as much as it couldn't bother him, he knew that his students would suffer if they trained outdoors in the rain. The drizzle wasn't intense, and it broke in time for them to set out this morning, but with the light rain hanging over their destination, Cetanu hadn't planned on keeping his students out and about.
His mind was hazy, and he wasn't thinking about anything in particular. There was something annoying him about the mission, and he wondered exactly what it was. He looked to his right hand, where he carried the Lance of Ruin. His eyes then traveled to his left hip, where he still held the Sword of the Creator. Perhaps it was having two Hero's Relics on his person, one he didn't have a matching Crest for.
As he walked up the stairs to the second floor of the Monastery, he briefly wondered if Ashe could make use of both weapons giving that he'd fed from both him and Sylvain. It was a curious thought, and he realized in that moment that everyone he'd fed from that had a Crest also had a Hero's Relic for their House. Cetanu's lips tilted upwards slightly at the thought of how strong his progeny could be with all of those powerful, holy weapons.
The Blue Lions found themselves exhausted from the mission for the most part. Between the long ride to and from Fraldarius territory to the actual fight itself, they were sore and worn down. All they wanted was a warm bath and clothes that weren't designed for combat. They hadn't split up yet, Yuri the only one who slipped away.
"There you are, Dimitri."
The whole group turned to the sound of the voice. It was unmistakable and unpleasant to the ears, belonging to someone they weren't big fans of.
The prince frowned, his battle worn frame desiring rest and comfortable clothing. He was also hungry, and unlike his teacher, he couldn't subside on nothing if he so chose.
"It's good to see you too, Edelgard."
The Prince's frown wasn't directed solely at the Princess, the future king disliking her steward, and the fact that she had Ingrid flanking her, wearing the Black Eagles uniform. It was a blatant mockery, showing off the sole turncoat student from any of the three classes.
"Hubert tells me that the documentation pertaining to your engagement to Bernadetta was naught but a poor forgery. Her father knew nothing about the proposal either." she said, narrowing her eyes.
The Prince found his frown deepening into a scowl, his brow furrowing and his weariness making him irritable. "Her father abused her to the point that her mother had to kidnap her and sneak her away to this school. Surely you don't take his word at face value, it'd be unbecoming of a future Emperor." he said, and she narrowed her eyes.
"So exactly what was the idea behind faking a betrothal to one of my land's nobles? To distract me? To mask some other political move you're making? What is it?"
Dimitri had no idea what to say to her that wouldn't have some kind of negative effect on something. He inhaled, trying to clear his mind of a little of the fatigue, realizing that Edelgard's lack of empathy was always one of her most dangerous traits. He hated it.
"There is no deceit to be found. If I wanted to make a political move, I would do so blatantly. I have no desire or need to tiptoe around you. You don't scare me and you surely don't pose a threat to my position in Faerghus." he said, his classmates blinking at how bold the statement was.
Even Edelgard seemed to hesitate at the statement, her mouth opening but no words coming out. She hated to admit it, but Dimitri had a point. Scheming, politics, none of it was Dimitri's forte. She was struggling to think of something to say, just for a chance to have the last word.
However, she failed. The wind blew intensely as the rain let up, her gaze shifting to the sky to see a small group of Wyvern Riders descending on the Monastery. All of the wyvern were large, arguably oversized even for males. They all wore an odd crest on their harnesses, and two of the five men carried banners with the same odd House Crest on them, one that Edelgard wasn't familiar with.
The leader of the riders dismounted, scanning the group of students and settling his gaze on Ashe. "Lord Formorian, we hate to be a bother, but we need you to accompany us." he said, and Ashe tilted his head.
"What is it you need that Samyaza can't deal with?" he asked, and the rider cleared his throat, seemingly oddly nervous in the presence of his lord. "There is a foreign diplomat of sorts at Castle Formorian, and he wishes to speak to the actual Lord. He says that he wishes to deal with the successor to Lonato specifically." he explained, hoping that bringing up the former Lord Gaspard wouldn't upset the lordling.
His green eyes hovered over the wyvern and their riders for a second before he turned to his classmates. "Can you let the Professor know that I'll be back as soon as I can? It shouldn't take me too long." he said, and his pale green gaze shifted to Edelgard, their eyes locking very briefly.
The Princess could tell that there was something very different about him. His recovery was impossible, but his growth was even more curious. He was meek, weak and pitiful even. Yet now, he was confident, and as he climbed onto the oversized wyvern, Edelgard understood that he was a strong Lord of his land, a land he earned by taking his predecessor's life in combat.
As the wyvern took off with Ashe, Dimitri grit his teeth. He couldn't stand to be around Edelgard or Ingrid for another second. He was oddly irritable right now, and he stormed off to finally rid himself of his sweat covered, battle damaged clothing.
The two pairs of eyes simply stared into each other, unable to even blink. Cetanu knew that this would happen, but the Archbishop was still infuriated. Here he stood again, a physical embodiment of her failures, and yet she couldn't do anything about it because he was just too strong for her to deal with.
She broke the eye contact, her eyes traveling to the Hero's Relic in his grip, a sign that he completed the mission successfully. She wondered how to approach the conversation with him, Seteth oddly absent from the briefing.
"Our mission was a success, Your Grace." he said, bowing before her again as she felt her fingers twitch. She offered him a weak smile, holding a hand out towards him.
"You needn't bow, Professor. It's good that you were able to return with no injury or casualty." she said, and Cetanu nodded respectfully.
He held out the Lance of Ruin, almost daring her to pry it from his grip. "Since we completed the mission with minimal difficulties, I trust that you'll honor your end of our agreement and add the Ashen Wolves to my class?" he asked, and Rhea grit her teeth, not liking the sound of that. She relented however, realizing that the last thing she could do in her position as the Archbishop was lie or go back on her word.
She nodded with that same weak smile, something that Cetanu picked up. He didn't like the sight, as he wanted her smile to be genuine like it used to be. The Archbishop was incredibly beautiful, and to see her feigning smiles and hesitating around him was enraging.
"I will. As for the Lance of Ruin, I believe you should keep it in your possession and teach the Gautier boy how to use it so this situation doesn't happen again." she said, and Cetanu nodded, realizing that she was trying to rid herself of him as fast as she could. He, however, had another question for her.
"Your Grace, if I may ask, were you aware that Miklan would turn into a hideous beast because he was Crestless?"
Rhea's brow furrowed slightly at the question, telling Cetanu almost everything he needed to know. "I could not be sure that he would suffer that fate, but that he did is most regrettable. However, I hope that you and your students take this as a lesson. The Hero's Relics and their Crest Stones can not fall into the hands of those without the right Crest, or the Black Beasts could run rampant."
He nodded, bowing to her again as she dismissed him, his gaze lingering on her for a second before he left, his eyes looking to the Lance. He wondered which of his other students had Hero's Relics to their Houses, and how these Relics could be put into practice given the seemingly supernatural powers they had.
As the wyvern descended on Castle Formorian with the setting of the sun, Ashe wondered exactly what could be so important that the Demon Lord of Sloth would need him present personally. It was a curious subject, because none of the riders that served as his escort would say anything. Bar the leader that he shared a wyvern with, thy kept their heads down.
Another thing that Ashe noticed was that all of the Wyvern Riders had a unique emblem on the backs of their armor, of a purple lance with a black shaft. The leader however, had an image of a dragon's head on his back, the Crest of Chevalier behind the dragon almost like a halo of light. He wondered if it was a symbol of rank or status, something that showed how close he was to the Wyvern Lord.
"What is the symbol on your back?" he asked, the man looking to the lordling as he led him through the castle to Samyaza. His green eyes showed a sense of hesitation, but he still cleared his throat and exhaled.
"Tis a symbol of rank. I am a Captain amongst the Grigoi. There are three Captains and nine Lieutenants below us. The lances symbolize our foot soldiers, and the Lieutenants wear the dragon. Only us three Captains wear the Crest on our backs, Milord."
Ashe nodded, tilting his head ever so slightly. He liked the sound of that structure. It was simple and to the point, and it allowed for little conflict, as with an odd number of leaders, there would be no split decisions. And he knew that above the Three Captains was Samyaza himself, the leader of the group he named 'Grigoi.'.
"What is your name? If you choose to remain with me after I take my throne, I would appreciate if you stayed." he said, wondering if the move would upset Samyaza in any way. He doubted it, as the man was known to his homeland as the 'Prince of the Flame of Lethargy', belying his laziness or lack of visible action.
The man looked to his Lord again, pushing the door to the throne room open and holding it for the former street urchin. "My name is Samedi Guedhe, Captain of the Grigoi's Vodun division."
Ashe looked to the throne room, noticing that Samyaza wasn't sitting on it, something that Ashe was grateful. The interim Lord was leaning against his dragon, who seemed incredibly relaxed. The demon scanned the room, noticing a few pedestals with things that he assumed were prized possessions of Samyaza's. There were a few more pedestals than Ashe thought necessary, but he understood where the mercenary was coming from.
He noticed a pedestal with a lance propped up on it, much akin to the one on the back of his Grigoi. Masks or armors from various noteworthy foes he'd defeated, and closest to the throne was an odd ornament, one that caught his attention. It was black, and rounded, and had an interesting series of cracks throughout it. It almost looked like an egg of sorts, painted and dolled up to suit a kingdom powered by Wyvern Riders.
"Glad you could make it. Made sure the big chair was nice and warm for ya." he said, motioning to the throne lazily. Ashe walked over to the chair, an unimpressive dolled up seat with the symbol of House Gaspard still on it. He inhaled, realizing that he'd never once sat in Lonato's seat, his primary place of power. He turned around and exhaled, lowering himself into the chair almost gingerly.
When he did, he felt an incredible rush of adrenaline. The feeling of sitting front and center in a large room, everyone looking at you and waiting on your word, or your actions was incredible. He liked the feeling, and he wondered if this was what he was summoned here for.
"Why did you call me here?" he asked, Samyaza looking from him to the door, his eyes scanning the room as Azazel shifted positions but remained completely calm, as if asleep with his eyes open.
"There's someone that wants to talk to you. I sent Sam to get you, while my other Captains, Bestla and Rathalos, escorted your guest here. They should be back any minute now." he said, and Ashe nodded, looking to the doors to the throne room. He waited the seconds and minutes by patiently, his eyes scanning the room, moving to Samyaza's pedestals.
"Why prop up this lance?" he asked, and the Demon Lord of Sloth looked to him. He scratched his head, his half lidded eyes matching the lazy chuckle that escaped his thin lips. "Well, it's actually the lance that my ancestor wielded. Believe it or not, that thing is ages old, and was used by Valter the Moonstone." he mused, seeming proud of the object being in his possession.
He could understand that. If he had some famous ancestor, he would most certainly display any of their belongings front and center. However, his eyes shifted to the odd round ornament, and he was soon staring at it.
"Looking at the egg, huh?" he asked, and Ashe blinked, snapping from his trance to look to Samyaza. "Egg?"
"Yeah, I've had it since I was a kid. My father gave it to me and told me to take care of it. Apparently it's a damaged dragon egg from a long ass time ago, even before Valter and his lot. Never hatched because it's cracked. Much as I want to believe it will, I'm sure it's just a decoration at this point." he said, and Ashe hummed absentmindedly, his eyes locked on the black egg.
His trance was broken by the opening of the throne room doors. He straightened his posture, his inhuman status not masking his appearance as a short young man with soft freckled skin and bright colored eyes. The first two people he saw wore the same uniform as Samedi, and he assumed they were the other Captains.
There was a man and a woman, the man wearing some kind of red painted armor that matched his bushy blonde and orange hair, a huge sword strapped to his back. His female counterpart wore similar armor, and her hair was white, her shimmering golden eyes giving her an inhuman appearance that matched the odd, jagged bladed axe she had on her back. When stood next to Samedi, who was the tallest with long, dreadlocked hair and dark brown skin, they looked like a more intimidating group than their leader and Lord.
However, it was the people with them that kept his attention. They looked odd, having skin ranging from pale to brown, covered in colored markings, mostly blue. The females were normally lighter in skin tone, their hair also lighter, one of the few females even having snow white hair and blue eyes. The males all had darker hair and eyes, but they all had another feature that interested him.
They all had horns.
The leader of the group, as evidenced by his unique appearance of browned skin, golden hair about his shoulders and back and golden markings across his skin, had large black horns sticking from his head that curved down towards his face slightly. He carried himself with a great confidence, his immensely broad chest and shoulders appearing like a wall.
They were also an oddly stocky folk, and Ashe could swear that even their leader was the same height as he was oddly enough. The leader nodded his head.
"It's good to see that Lonato's successor is one who can keep their composure." he said, his baritone voice carrying across the room and bouncing off the walls.
Ashe nodded, the group of odd, horned people approaching. Ashe's eyes narrowed slightly. Were they dwarves, or were they some other kind of creature that he wasn't aware existed? Could they simply be humans adapted to the Oghma Mountains or were they a clan of short Fleshcrafters that all create horns for themselves?
"He never spoke of a foreign people's such as you. I am Ashe Ubert, Lonato's son and successor." he said, rising from the throne and walking to greet the foreign leader. Surely enough, the wall like man was only Ashe's own height, his braided beard nearly the length of Ashe's arm.
"Understandably so, we asked him to keep silent. We are allies of his, and we merely wished to see who was in charge of the land that bordered ours." he mused, and Ashe nodded. He remained stalwart in front of the imposing man, but he could barely contain his curiosity.
"Forgive me for asking, but who and what are you?" he asked, trying to keep the childlike curiosity from his voice. He noticed that he failed, and the man chuckled heartily.
"I am the Jarl of the Oghma Mountains, Gauldrikk the Golden. We are called the 'Dokkr', horned dwarves descended from the Grim Dragon Bladdiyd." he said, and Ashe blinked.
Horned dwarves descended from a dragon? Exactly how did that work? And more importantly, he was insinuating that there were other dwarves that aren't horned. Ashe however, nodded and hummed.
"Tell me Gauldrikk, does your territory stretch all of the Oghma Mountains?" he asked, and the Jarl began to laugh, a hearty sound.
"Most of it at least. The eastern half, on the border of the Alliance, is home to the Rokkr, dwarves under the command of my cousin, Jarl Thorrik the Furnace. Of course, I normally do the talking for him as well, which is why I call myself the Jarl of the entire range." he explained, and Ashe nodded.
"And you came here today to see if I was up to snuff?" he asked, and the man nodded in return, his horn unmoving while his hair bounced.
"Of course. I am fully aware that you are, but I was simply coming to let you know that as long as you leave our mountains to us, than we'd be happy allies of yours." he said, and Ashe nodded. He pondered it for a brief second, wondering what he'd need allies for.
Then, his mind flashed to the instant before he departed the Monastery, realizing that the last person he locked eyes with before arriving was Edelgard, the next Emperor. And, seeing as how Gauldrikk's territory bordered Edelgard's lands, he could now see exactly why the Jarl wanted to extend the olive branch. He anticipated Edelgard's desire for power to grow much like Ashe did himself. He held his hand out, a smile across his features.
"We'd be happy to have you, Jarl Gauldrikk. Castle Formorian is always open to you and your people. We're honored to have you here."
Samyaza watched silently from the corner of the room, but he narrowed his eyes soon after they shook hands. It was unusual how quickly Ashe was gaining military power, but thankfully, that power was his for the time being. He just prayed that the fledgling demon was at the least half as sensible as his sire.
