2nd of Blue Sea Moon
Byleth walked quietly through the stone corridor, a trick of white magic floating alongside her to provide illumination. Jeralt followed with nervous footfalls.
Left at the crumbling fresco of Saint Seiros, then right at the rusted chamber pot. Forward until the corridor branches into two paths, then turn around to the door hidden behind the corner.
"How can you possibly navigate this mess? I worked for Rhea one hundred years and I thought Abyss should have ended twenty minutes ago." Jeralt leaned down under a particularly short archway.
It's true. Sothis murmured as she floated alongside Byleth. We've never traveled this far down together.
Sothis. Ever present. Her forgetful guide. A past life. An echo of long forgotten memories. A reminder of everything she had been both in millennia past, and when the world was new to her. Who Byleth once was, and who she would become. Again. And again. And again.
"Repeat an action often enough and you don't have to remember." Byleth brushed cobwebs aside. Jeralt took a breath like he was about to speak, but bit back his tongue.
"Say your piece."
Jeralt let out a hiss. "You say these things so casually. It…" He sucked in another breath. "At this point, I know better than to think what you say is wrong, but if what you say is down here is, and if what you say is about to happen is really going to happen…" A hand landed on Byleth's shoulder. She turned to face Jeralt. He was not crying yet. "…It breaks my heart, you know. You must know."
She did. But no one else had to worry about that. "Do you want to leave?"
Jeralt looked at Byleth for a time. His hand slid of her shoulder. "No. I want to, but…" another sucked breath. "No."
Byleth wrapped her hand around Jeralt's, and continued to walk. Soon, they approached a small door. Rhea stood next to it, ready to pace back and forth. Her eyes shot up as they approached, and her lips thinned.
The three stood there, Jeralt and Rhea unsure how to proceed.
Open the door! Sothis barked. This won't end unless someone does something!
Byleth was unmoved. We four have no reason to be impatient. Let them come to it.
Sothis huffed, crossing her arms and looking away. Byleth let the silence linger.
Rhea bit her lip. "…Before we enter, I must warn you. What is in this room-"
"I know." Jeralt interrupted.
Rhea blinked, before looking at Byleth. "I see."
The two looked at the door. Neither made a move to open it. Jeralt walked towards the wooden frame. Two paces away he stopped to look at Byleth. She gave a nod. Jeralt turned to Rhea, and waited.
Rhea placed her hand on the doorknob, and then stopped herself from looking back. Inch by inch, she forced the doorknob to turn, each degree giving a low creak. With a terrible finality, Rhea pushed open the door, before turning haunted eyes to Jeralt. The two shared a look of dread, before Jeralt stepped into the room. Rhea followed with trepidation. Byleth calmly followed after the two, closing the door behind her.
The room had the same faint green glow of ghostly lights Rhea had installed to watch over the holy tomb. The stonework was a cool black that reflected a dark green light, giving the entire room a pale glow. Jeralt paid the alien design little mind, and took step after step after step, until he found himself in front of the room's central dais. Rhea moved mechanically, almost gliding across the floor, before ending a few paces behind Jeralt. Byleth walked just behind her father, looking down at her mother's corpse, untouched by the ravages of time.
Sitri still wore her white gown, as she always did. When Byleth had first asked Rhea why she had dressed the woman in those clothes for her eternal rest, Rhea always said she couldn't remember. Her father had told her so many lives ago that it was the dress she had worn to their wedding.
Jeralt reached out, hand shaking. His fingers touched Sitri's cheek, and he realized that she was truly there. His hand slowly descended down her face, cupping her chin. His other hand reached, out, and gently stroked her hair.
Byleth did not need to turn to see Rhea trying and failing to reach out and touch Jeralt's shoulder. Sothis hovered closer, looking down on her previous vessel, recognition sparking in her eyes.
The room was still. To some, it might seem as though time had frozen in the room. Jeralt continued to stare down into Sitri's unmoving face. Rhea kept her distance. Sothis looked at the scene with quiet fascination.
Jeralt had been humming softly. Tears had begun to flow down his face. He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on Sitri's cold forehead. As he leaned backward, the words grew loud enough for Rhea to hear.
"I still hear her voice, when there's no sound…"
Rhea had a habit of speaking to herself. Byleth wasn't sure when she picked it up. She had always been tight lipped in Sothis' memory. "All the rest is gone, he's not around…"
Jeralt turned around, surprise etched on his face. "Where- when did she tell you…"
Rhea shared his expression. "Ah. She…would hum the song whenever you marched out in the…last two years."
Jeralt shared a pensive look with Rhea, before turning back to stroke Sitri's hair for a few moments longer. His hands finally retreated to his sides. Jeralt let out one final sigh, and turned around. He locked eyes with Byleth. She nodded, and took his place, standing next to Sitri. Jeralt looked at the back of Byleth's head for a few moments, before facing Rhea.
"…She's just been like this? For twenty years?"
"Yes…when I was preparing her body, I discovered that there were no signs of decay…"
Byleth looked down at her mother's corpse as she listened in to Jeralt question Rhea. She had long since lost any desire to see her Sitri's body, but it made Jeralt happy. It made Rhea feel happy.
"Byleth said all the same things you've said. It's reason enough to trust you. On this."
Byleth's two relatives were on a path to reconciling. It was a small happenstance she was happy to arrange for them. After all, what she was about to do would hurt them both all over again.
Must you do this? Sothis pressed. This is more than some rock or trinket of gold. She was your mother.
Yes. Byleth let out a resigned sigh. If I do not, no one will ever be able to let go until it is far too late.
But she would hate him now for what he has done! What he has planned! I would!
Enough to call for his death? For something he has yet to commit to? Do you remember her memories so well?
Sothis fell silent, looking down at Sitri. Byleth glanced at the door. It would just be a few more moments. Rhea and Jeralt had fallen silent, and were trying to not make eye contact. Byleth quietly cast her spell, ignored Sothis' cry of protest, and closed her eyes, counting to ten.
A creak echoed from the door. Jeralt and Rhea's heads both snapped to the sound. The door slowly opened, and Aelfric, surprise and astonishment playing across his face, all but tumbled into the room.
No one made a sound. Jeralt and Rhea both stared at Aelfric, confused looks on their faces. Aelfric's eyes darted between the two, Byleth, and Sitri's remains.
"I- You-" Aelfric's bewilderment was plain to see. "I- it's-"
"…Aelfric? Is that you?" Jeralt asked.
"Yes-yes, it's me." Aelfric grabbed onto Jeralt's words to ground himself. "I- I had hoped we would reunite in happier circumstances Jeralt, but…"
"How long have you known about this place?" Rhea asked.
Aelfric studied Rhea's face for a moment. He was looking for some sign that Rhea was about to crush him. She wasn't. Rhea only suspected something was wrong with him at this point. Calming himself, Aelfric replied.
"Almost ten years now. At first I thought it was some strange dream, but I kept returning, and Sitri remained, so…."
"I see." an inquisitive gleam returned to Rhea's eye. "And you have told no one? Done nothing?"
Aelfric swallowed, looking to Sitri. "You were the only one who could have moved her here, Archbishop. I presumed you wished for some manner of privacy. I was quite content to keep her location secret. I only returned on occasion to pay respects, or reminisce on happier days."
Jeralt turned to face Byleth, eyebrow raised. "Funny coincidence that we run into each other now."
Byleth blinked back at Jeralt.
"Y-yes. A happy quirk of fate, let us call it." Aelfric adjusted his collar. "Still, I imagine it best for me to allow you some time alone to mourn."
"I had a question, actually." Byleth spoke up. Rhea and Aelfric's head jerked to hers. "Why is my mother's body so perfectly preserved?"
Rhea stared at Byleth, uncomprehending. Aelfric looked between the two, the gears in his head slowly turning. Jeralt looked at Byleth, trying to understand what she was doing.
Aelfric found the courage to speak first. "I agree with the child, Lady Rhea. I have often wondered the same." A nervous edge entered his voice, and he grew bolder. "How can she remain so perfectly preserved? All that seems missing from her body is a heartbeat."
Rhea looked at Aelfric. A determined glint had entered his eye, and his posture pressed forward, tensing as he waited. She turned to Jeralt, who was watching Rhea, confused, dreading, and resigned all at once. She looked at Byleth once more, who stared back.
"…You undoubtedly know the answer."
Byleth ignored Aelfric's confused stare. "I do. But others do not."
Rhea bit her lip. "…Very well. It has nothing to do with any magic or preservatives I supplied. I can only speculate, but her body's endurance must be a result of Sitri's Crest."
Aelfric's eyebrows knitted together. "I've never heard of such a thing. What Crest could preserve a body for twenty years?"
"The Crest of Flames." Jeralt supplied. Aelfric's eyes shot open.
"I've never-but I thought-"
"I instructed her not to mention her crest to anyone, lest unwanted attention come crashing down from every noble in Fódlan and beyond." Rhea said.
Aelfric's brow furrowed. "Yes, I…I suppose that would be prudent." A flash or realization passed over his eyes, and he looked up to Byleth. "You are her daughter, and Rhea said that you would know best. Does that mean…"
Byleth summoned her Crest in her hand. Aelfric looked up in wonder.
"So how exactly does having the Crest of Flames keep Sitri from rotting away?" Jeralt looked between Rhea and Byleth.
"Despite what the name suggests, the Crest of Flames has no particular power over fire. Instead, it has domain is over time." Rhea said. "Somehow, her crest has kept away any signs of rot even after death."
Byleth nodded along. The back and forth was progressing as it always did. Soon Aelfric would let his boldness get the better of his restraint, and a very uncomfortable question would be laid at Rhea's feet.
It's not too late! Sothis pleaded. There is still time to take back the spell! It hasn't done anything permanent yet! Think of what this will do to your Father! To Rhea! She's- Sothis chocked on her words, clutching her head. Her memories were bubbling up. Slowly, she would remember who she was. Who Byleth is. What she would become. It would take years, but even ghosts were not spared haunted memories. …Don't hurt her.
Pain is a cruel teacher. Byleth agreed. But it must be done. For everyone's good.
Who are you to say something so horrible! Sothis demanded. How could you possibly-
Byleth let a memory float through her mind. We alone know the consequences of inaction.
Sothis stared wide as the fragment of Byleth's memory played before her eyes. She spoke no more. The time had come. The magic would run its course.
"…And I must say Archbishop, I-" Aelfric fell silent. He was always the first to see.
"Aelfric? What is the matter?"
He shoved Rhea out the way and ran past Byleth, screeching to a halt next to Sitri. Jeralt shouted after him, but quickly fell in line once his eye locked on to what Aelfric saw. Rhea looked at what the two men saw, and then locked eyes with Byleth, terror apparent. Sensing the inevitable, Byleth turned to see her spell's gruesome work.
Particles were floating up in the air, each no larger than a speck of dust. Once they reached their apex, the particles glowed brightly, before vanishing as if they were nothing more than phantoms in the night. Below the dance of lights, Sitri's body continued to deteriorate, already having lost a left cheek to the grisly process, a dull white light shining through her flesh to prevent anyone from seeing her flesh peel from its bone. Aelfric's hand thrummed with healing magic as he tried in vain to reverse the process. Jeralt looked on, helpless.
"Rhea!" Aelfric cried out. "What's happening to Sitri? What have you done to her!"
Rhea stumbled forward, eye locked on Sitri's closed eyelids. Her magic flared to life, trying to aid Aelfric.
Jeralt stared mutely at Byleth. Byleth looked down at Sitri's face.
Aelfric was frantically pouring more and more magic into a spell that would not function. "Rhea, what-"
"I don't know!" Rhea snapped. "I've never seen anything like this! I don't-" her eyes swung back to Byleth's. "What is happening?"
"Her time has run out." Byleth had practiced her expression. It was a mix of sorrow and resignation, layered behind a stone mask of polite stoicism. Jeralt and Rhea would see what they wanted to. "The Crest of Flames can only preserve a body for so long. Then, inevitably, time catches up."
"There has to be a way to stop this!" Aelfric shouted. "You, child, you have the Crest of Flames! Surely you can do something!"
"Like what?"
"You could- You- I-" Aelfric wilted, and his eyes began to franticly bounce back between Byleth, Rhea, and Sitri. Looking at Rhea one last time, he clenched his fist, and looked at Byleth with a desperate resolve. "There is an old legend- hidden in Abyss, there is an artifact that was once used to bring back the dead. Sitri has some time left. If we can just find it, then-"
"Absolutely not!" Rhea barked. "What you suggest is madness, Aelfric! The Chalice cannot restore life, only create twisted parodies! Not to mention you would need the blood of the four Apostles, who have long since vanished from history!"
Aelfric spun, fervor in his eyes. "It's better than doing noting! And even then-" His eyes widened. "You say it as though you know the Chalice."
Rhea bit her lip. "It will not work Aelfric."
"How could you possibly know that?" Aelfric demanded. "This is our only chance to save Sitri! To return her to a life so unjustly taken!" Aelfric stepped forward. "In fact, you were the only one in the room with Sitri! I know you looked down on her. We all could see it." Jeralt reached out to grab Aelfric's shoulder. Aelfric shoved the hand away. "You've hidden away secrets for years. I've helped you do it. In those short few months after her birth, you doted on the child, her child- as if it were your own. Byleth clearly has some understanding of Crests even you lack, and possesses a Crest that should be long lost. Who is to say you didn't kill Sitri for some sick, twisted experiment to grant her child this power!"
Rhea's eyes burned. "How dare you, Aelfric! After all I have done for you, after all I did for Sitri! To accuse me of such a crime…"
"You've lied before. You'll lie again. Who's to say you haven't lied about this?"
"You will be silent, Aelfric!"
"I will not! It has been far too long since-"
"The deterioration is accelerating." Byleth's words cut through the two's shouting match. Both turned their heads to Sitri before rushing back to the dais. The entirety of Sitri's left side had vanished. Her dress dripped down on to the stone.
"We need to find the Chalice, now! If we don't Sitri will-"
"Aelfric, enough!"
"No!" Aelfric screamed. "Enough of your lies, Rhea! The chalice is the only way to save Sitri, and no half spun fairy tale will deter me! I must find the chalice! You don't know-"
"She knows what the chalice does because she witnessed the first ritual." Byleth said.
Aelfric deflated. "What? How is that-" His eyes turned to Rhea, who's expression was caught between it's former hostility and newfound shock.
'Sometimes a piece of the truth is better then a lie.' Byleth mouthed to her.
Aelfric regained his footing. "That's impossible."
"…No, it's very possible." Jeralt broke his silence as he studied Rhea. "All too possible." He turned to Aelfric. "Kid, I've known you since before you could read. Have I ever so much as aged a day in that time?"
Aelfric rubbed his hand.
"I'm more than one hundred and fifty years old. If you think it odd that Rhea hasn't aged in your lifetime, I'll have you know she doesn't look a day older than when I first met her. One hundred and thirty years ago."
"I knew the crest of Serios extended life, but for so long…"
"It's true." Rhea had found her voice. "I was there when the resurrection was attempted. Instead of bringing back the long dead, a monster was formed out of sinew and magic."
Aelfric was forced to grapple with the revelations. "You are truly that ancient? How old are you?"
Rhea shifted. "The closer your blood is to Saint Serios, the longer life is extended. I have…a more direct connection than most."
Aelfric looked down on at Sitri's face. Only half remained. The fire in his eyes relit. "That doesn't mean anything! You're responsible for her death. You have to be." There was a hiccup in his breath. "She couldn't have just died. I know it. It had to be you."
"I would never do such an abhorrent thing to my child, Aelfric." Rhea's lips pressed together.
"Your child? Like I am your child? Like every other cardinal is your child? You could barely care about us, Rhea! You let the world around you rot, leaving us to pick after your messes!" Aelfric's second wind was in full force. "Have you looked at the state of Abyss? It's been fifteen years since I first handed you the petition to fix the very foundation of Garreg Mach, and what have you done since then? Nothing!"
"My attention is on the entire continent. There are many underprivileged throughout Fódlan. To favor one area-"
"It's just under your feet, and you let it rot! Fifteen years, Rhea! You left me alone to organize some semblance of order in this maze of corridors with nothing but pocket change!" Rhea flinched. "And how is the state of Fódlan's slums at large, I wonder? How can I trust a word you say? What possible reason could you give to make anyone believe that you cared about Sitri?" Rhea's fingers dug into her palms. She looked to Byleth. Byleth could offer no respite. Rhea would have to come to the conclusion herself this time. "I remember her training being so much harsher than anyone else's. You always had it out for her! And when you were given the opportunity to do whatever you did you took it! It's disappeared now, but I saw the cuts on her body! You removed her heart! You're a liar, Rhea!" Rhea bit her lip. Byleth could smell the ozone of blood in the air. Rhea had suffered, and as always, learned. "A-"
"She was my blood! My own daughter!" Rhea gasped out. Aelfric stopped, stunned by the sudden burst of emotion. Rhea gritted her teeth, and continued. "She was my child, like all of you. But I brought her into this world, and had to watch as she left it."
Aelfric struggled. "But- the wound-"
"Her last choice." Rhea replied. "The last bit of her fading life for her daughter's." Rhea looked at Byleth, and then let out a whisper. "My granddaughter."
Aelfric wanted to sputter. But his anger had burnt out. Rhea did not cry. Jeralt sighed, and brushed Sitri's hair one last time. He placed a kiss on her cheek. "…Now I am destroyed by love." He sang softly. He turned to Byleth. "Is there really nothing you can do?"
Each time she had left Sitri's body alone, Aelfric had inevitably performed his ritual, and twisted her corpse into an abomination. Sometimes Jeralt would find her body, and it would drive him into a deep depression and bitterness for as long as it remained. Sometimes he would even grow so foolish as to aid Aelfric. It was another grim reminder of past tragedy. It was best to simply remove her mother's body from the equation. Momentary loss for a better tomorrow. Aelfric could continue to improve Abyss. Jeralt could finally have some closure. Rhea would start to learn how to accept loss. Besides, Rhea had once said it herself. Sitri's spirit had long since moved on. All that remained was her body.
Stuck in an endless purgatory, never changing, watching as people plotted to sacrifice for you, and mourned with every look they gave you. Byleth felt her father's sad eyes cling to her like ancient tar. She liked to think she had learned some small measure of empathy for her mother's plight over the lifetimes.
Whenever Byleth had given foreknowledge to Rhea or Aelfric, they would inevitably try something foolish to stop Sitri's deterioration. Occasionally they would discover it was Byleth that performed the magic that made Sitri fall apart. Things went badly after that. It always ended best when the two were simply forced to experience it.
"Someone wiser than they knew once told me that sometimes, even I can't fight fate." Byleth responded. Jeralt squeezed her shoulder. And gave a her a very sad look that Byleth had become very used to seeing.
Why can't you just have them talk it out? Why do they have to suffer? Sothis asked.
Byleth sent more memories flashing through her mind. Arguing. Deflections. Hurt feelings. Bruised egos. Terrible betrayals. In the end, nothing was accomplished. Sometimes, people simply could not come together until they suffered together.
This is wrong.
You can turn back time. We can try again, if you would like it. Byleth conjured up more memories, preparing to let them play.
Stop. Sothis commanded. No more memories.
"Come on Aelfric. It's now or never." Jeralt was holding up the cardinal, who swayed with each step.
"Sitri…I…" Aelfric choked on his words. "I was going…If only you had given me more time, I could have…I-" A sob tore through him, and Aelfric fell to his knees, weeping softly.
Rhea did not approach. She only stared on as the last of her daughter faded away into nothingness.
…I remember her. Sothis murmured.
Byleth never could.
She supposed that made it easier for her to make her corpse fade into nothing.
As the last pieces of her mother faded away, Byleth wondered how many times she had debated if this made her a bad person.
Firstly, thanks to Dox for beta reading, and helping me discover some forms of than are better than the other thens when putting than and then next to each other, then sequencing then and than together to form a more complete than.
(There were 15+ of those corrections in the draft)
I know necrophilia is a common interpretation with Aelfric, but as it is only implicit, and I want to use him a bit more with Jeralt, something (say it with me) the game never does for some indescribable reason. If I had to guess, they couldn't get Jeralt's VA back in the booth on time, given that he doesn't even voice the chapter intros like he does in the main game. Or at least I hope that's the reason. In any case, we'll just leave all that to Orson back in Magvel. Plus Rhea never mentions seeing any stains on Sitri's pretty white dress, so let's just agree to leave it at Aelfric is SuCh A niCE gUy.
Song is There Is A Touch by the Proclaimers. Completely different tone, but I thought the words fit well enough. Had planned on using Rhea's song, but it has two whole lines, so.
