Something was off in the atmosphere around the monastery today.
The atmosphere had been different all month, of course, ever since Teach came back from the Sealed Forest with her new look, and today was supposed to be the day of the big revelation ceremony, but Claude knew his instincts well enough to know that there was different, and then there was off. There were more people milling about than was typical, which wasn't unusual in and of itself. Garreg Mach was Fódlan's center of worship, after all, and people came and went all the time. Still, something told him it wasn't an influx of pilgrims. He was as much an outsider as he professed himself to be, so he couldn't necessarily say what was typical for this time of year, but it struck him as odd that while there seemed to be more people around the Monastery, services in the cathedral didn't seem to draw a corresponding spike in attendance that he could notice.
And then, for some reason, most of them seemed to vanish all at once, at roughly the same time said big revelation ceremony was scheduled to take place. There were pieces on the board he couldn't account for, and he didn't like what that meant for his own plans.
Of course, he wasn't one to get lost in his thoughts - someone in his position was either alert or dead, after all - so the troubled-looking blonde passing him by in the entrance hall didn't fail to catch his notice.
"Yo, Ingrid!" he called, switching on that well-practiced, charming smile of his. "How goes?"
"Hm?" Judging by the sudden stop to her little powerwalk, she hadn't noticed him until he made his presence known. "Oh. Claude," she responded in that mildly annoyed tone he always seemed to draw from her. "I'm sorry, but I don't..." 'have time to deal with you right now,' he assumed the sentence would've ended, had she not trailed off, apparently pausing to consider how to continue in lieu of simply dismissing him. Interesting.
"Actually, have you seen Sylvain around? I was hoping to ask him something before he left for the Holy Tomb."
"Ah. Just missed him, I'm afraid. Teach and the Eagles headed off about fifteen minutes ago. Ceremony's probably starting right now."
Ingrid sighed, more in resignation than disappointment, it looked like. "Is it that late already?"
He sized her up a bit more closely. She'd clearly cleaned up and changed, but there was still that telltale bit of sweat over her brow. "Lost track of time in the training hall, I take it?"
She folded her arms over her chest. "So it would seem."
"Is it anything I could answer? Always willing to lend a hand for a classmate, y'know," he offered with a wink, fully expecting her to point out that they weren't actually in the same class.
"I appreciate the offer, but it's more of a personal issue. It can wait until he... comes back..."
It was subtle, but Claude definitely noticed, and apparently, Ingrid had too.
The candles over the hall flickered, as the whole building had seemed to shake.
Ingrid blinked in surprise. "...Was that an earthquake just now?"
Claude, for his part, dropped the smile. "I hope that's all it was." She seemed puzzled by the insinuation. "The Holy Tomb's right under the Monastery, Ingrid."
He could see on her face the exact moment she put the pieces together. If something had happened down there, and they'd felt it all the way up here, well. He did know something had been off, and he didn't like it one bit.
"You're certain this is where the entrance is?"
"I'm sure of it." It wasn't often Marianne gave such a commital answer. That left little room for debate, it seemed. "The gazebo should lower into a spiral staircase, but..."
Dimitri wasn't sure how to feel about that "but," with time being likely of the essence. "What's the problem?"
"...I have no idea how this mechanism works."
That... was probably to be expected. It was just a hovering orb, an ominous green glow shining through the cracks in what appeared to be a porcelain exterior, but what it was made of exactly, he couldn't stay. It had been one of the monastery's great mysteries, what it actually was; with the question of "what" seemingly answered, however, it was likely no one but Lady Rhea understood the "how" of it, and she was one of the people in danger. All of the Black Eagles were beneath the earth when that quake hit, and he couldn't afford to lose anyone else he cared about.
The professor, Sylvain, Ashe, El... he would not let their ghosts haunt him, as well. Not if there was anything to be done.
"Well, we'd best get to figuring it out, then, yeah?"
"Yes, but where to- wait, Claude?"
Dimitri spun on his heels to the source of the voice. The Riegan heir must have had the footfalls of a cat, because where on earth had he even come from? Ingrid, meanwhile, trailed just behind him, looking pale as a ghost. He knew how close she was to both Sylvain and Ashe, so he could hardly blame her. He must have really been lost in his thoughts not to have heard her coming, either.
Ingrid stopped a moment to catch her breath. "Dimitri... you felt it too, then?"
"Indeed," he replied with a simple nod.
In the meantime, Claude wasted no time in taking a closer look at the device, prompting Marianne to speak up. "U-um, Claude? Are you sure that's entirely safe?"
Claude, for his part, kept his attention in front of him, as the rest of the group slowly gathered around the object. "You think they'd leave it in the courtyard unguarded if it was dangerous?" He reached his hand toward the sphere, prompting the exterior panels closest to his hand to click together, blocking the glowing core of the device from his touch. Pieces came apart and snapped together accordingly as he waved his hand curiously over the surface.
"Unfortunately," Ingrid interjected, "I doubt they'd leave it out in the open if it was something any of us could just operate so easily."
"And on that point, you'd be right."
At once, the whole group turned to see that Catherine and Shamir had joined in on their little gathering. Or, at least, Catherine had; Shamir seemed content to hang back and ensure they weren't interrupted. Dimitri wasn't sure whether that was a good sign or not.
"'Fraid I'm gonna have to ask you all to step away from that."
Not, then.
"And I'm afraid," Dimitri replied, "that I must strenuously object. You felt the earth shake just now, did you not? If the others are in danger down there-"
"Then you'll have to have faith that Lady Rhea will see to their safety." Catherine spoke softly, but with a firmness that brokered no argument. That her hand was resting on the pommel of Thunderbrand did Dimitri's case no favors, either. "I sympathize with your concerns, but our orders are that the ceremony is not to be interrupted for any reason. Not even by you, your highness."
Dimitri opened his mouth to argue, eyes narrowed in anger, but it was Claude who spoke up first.
"Well," he said, gesturing to the device, "fingers crossed that that means it's a moot point."
Suddenly, all eyes were on the orb, the exterior shell having contracted into a single piece as it spun rapidly in place. There was a sound of stone grinding against stone, and anyone still standing within the gazebo stepped back as the floor lowered, one step at a time, into the form of a spiral staircase. After about two minutes all eyes present transfixed throughout, the staircase settled into place, and the sphere whirred slowly to a stop. After a brief silence, footsteps could be heard from below. Footsteps that approached with a calm, undisturbed gait. That was a reassuring sign, Dimitri thought, but until he could see who was approaching them, and why they did so alone, he remained on guard.
Then, out of the darkness, elegant white robes and mint-green hair emerged. She radiated the same aura of calm kindness she always did, but her expression, her smile... it was different. It wasn't the usual, resting smile she offered the faithful of Seiros. For the first time Dimitri could remember, the Archbishop looked as though she was truly, genuinely happy. A look of satisfaction in some grand achievement that he was not privy to.
It was a marked contrast with the bright red handprint upon her cheek.
Catherine, for her part, was visibly beside herself. "Wha- who- how dare-" she sputtered angrily, unable to form a coherent thought, "Lady Rhea, who-"
A simple raise of the Archbishop's hand was all it took to silence her. "Peace, Catherine," she said in a calm, measured tone, never losing her serene smile, "there is nothing you need concern yourself with. All is as it should be, now. As it should have always been." She turned to the small gathering of students. "You all are concerned for your classmates, I presume? If so, you needn't be. They will be returning shortly, I imagine."
Intellectually, Dimitri knew the knowledge of their safety should have been a relief. To a degree, it was. But there was still a sense of disquiet that he couldn't shake, and he could not figure out why for the life of him.
"I... beg your pardon? I'm not certain I'm following."
The woman sighed, rolling her eyes. "It is precisely as I said, Hubert. Would it clarify matters if I gave you every name I am known by? I warn you that it is quite the list. We may be here until sunset."
"Sothis..." Petra mouthed the name slowly, presumably to be sure she had it right. "That is the name of the goddess of Fódlan, yes?"
She gave a polite nod. "The very same." Her gaze turned back to Hubert, lips curled into a smug grin. "You see? Petra has it figured out."
He hadn't believed in the Goddess prior to this moment, but she was quickly proving as insufferable as he'd expect her to be, were she real. And yet, for Lady Edelgard to have called off the plan so suddenly... it could only be truly rationalized by something of this magnitude, if true.
If true.
"And what proof do we have that you are who you say?" He imagined he must have looked terribly smug as he asked that. Good, he thought.
"Hubert, do you truly think it wise to-"
"No, Ferdinand," she mercifully silenced his insufferable rambling, "he raises a fine point. I am sure most of you would see such a claim as blasphemous, if anything." However smug Hubert may have looked, this woman had managed to double it. "Perhaps you could try praying."
...
"I'm sorry?"
"It is as I said," she replied, folding her arms in front of her chest. "Offer your sincere prayers to the Goddess, and surely she shall hear them, yes?"
"That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard."
"...You're really gonna say that in the middle of Garreg Mach Monastery?" Sylvain raised an excellent point, but Hubert shot him a glare all the same.
"Hmph!" the alleged goddess huffed, upturning her nose and crossing her arms indignantly. "If you truly think it foolish, then I am the only one who stands to be made a fool of, no?" She paused, clearly for deliberate dramatic effect. "If, however, you wish me to prove myself, then pray, and I shall share your prayers with the rest of the class. Then, we can decide together what the truth of the matter is."
Hubert groaned, running a gloved hand down his face in exasperation, before resigning himself to this meaningless charade. "Fine."
The dark mage closed his eyes and bowed his head, clasping his hands in… ugh, prayer.
…
"Well, Hubert?"
"...'Well' what?" he hissed, through gritted teeth.
"Are you going to start praying or not?"
"I am praying."
"No, Hubert," she scoffed, "you are thinking in my general direction. I am a Goddess, not a mind-reader." He physically flinched in pure bafflement at the absurdity of that statement, but the woman continued undeterred. "Look within yourself, and ask what it is you would truly implore the heavens for. What is it you want, from the bottom of that shriveled, black heart of yours?"
His eyes narrowed at that last bit. Someone behind him snickered. Probably Dorothea - she'd once used the exact same words to describe his heart, and in the same playful tone, if he recalled correctly. No matter, though. He resumed his supplicant position, and proceeded to… he couldn't bring himself to think the word twice. What he truly wanted, from the bottom of his heart. It wasn't something he had to dig deep for… but it would hardly prove anything if he were to pray for that. His loyalty to Lady Edelgard was no secret, and indeed, was likely what she was fishing for with this charlatanry. So, he prayed for something else. Something he wanted for himself.
Her eyes widened momentarily, before she slipped into a knowing grin.
"Oh my."
He was beginning to miss when that face never smiled.
"I must say, Hubert, I had not taken you for a romantic."
Never mind. He was well past merely beginning to miss it.
"And I must say," she continued, her gaze pulling away from Hubert, "the target of your affections is not who I would have guessed at first."
...Oh no.
He followed her gaze to the students behind him, and realized exactly who she was looking at.
"ALRIGHT! FINE!" he shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "I believe you!"
"...Wait, seriously?" Caspar asked. Even he realized that if Hubert, of all people, was convinced, the rest were going to fall like dominoes.
A sound echoed out, of two hands rapidly clasping together. "Dorothea, please," Sothis laughed, "you cannot simply pray for me to tell you who Hubert's crush is."
"Aww…"
Oh, thank the Goddess, Hubert thought, possibly for the first time ever.
As the students' whispers grew to a dull thrum, the Goddess raised a single finger to her lips, which proved sufficient to silence everyone present. "As I said, we have much to discuss, and we will indeed have time to discuss it, individually and as a group. However," she frowned, "I would rather we not do so here. This is a place for the dead, and… I lost a good friend here today."
She stepped forward, motioning toward the stairs. "Let us go. If anyone has need of me, it will need to wait." Her eyes narrowed, the glowing green of her irises seeming to burn. "The Archbishop and I must have words."