Summary: Ishgard is saved, for the moment. Upon her return, Rhea and the Scions are given an invitation to a Royal Banquet. A friend is found dead in the Shroud, giving rise to suspicions of foul play and treachery.
Vishap fell before the defenders of Ishgard, his great body crashing down at Rhea's feet. Though lives were lost, she and those who had defended the wards with her, had been victorious. Blessing of Light or not, she was still a powerful summoner and there was nothing like fighting for one's homeland to empower one's spells beyond their limits. Unfortunately, not all of the wards had survived and she knew Ishgard was going to be vulnerable for a time until they were resurrected.
Standing on the battlefield of the great bridge, she looked up to one of the great towers to see a lone figure standing there, lance on his back. She had seen him only once during the battle, but she had no doubt many dragons had fallen to his lance. As if pulled to do so, he turned his attention down to Rhea and she brought her hand to her chest and bowed her head to him in respect. In turn, he nodded to her as well before he launched himself into the air, disappearing into the clouds.
It was a great victory and a devastating blow to the Dravanians. She prayed it would take them time to recover, giving Ishgard the time it needed to repair. She aided as much as she could with the aftermath of the battle before she made her way back to the Rising Stones, waylaid only briefly by a very grateful Lord Commander. Upon her return, she met with Minfilia to give her a full report. While she was, a missive arrived from Ul'dah inviting the Scions to a Royal Banquet from her Grace, the Sultana, a few days hence to celebrate the victory for Ishgard. Though none of them felt up to putting on airs and socializing with the wheelers and dealers, they were nonetheless behooved to attend. Especially since the city-states had sent aid at their request - paltry though it was. It was a celebration for the victory in Ishgard, after all!
Still, they had a few days and Rhea, for one, was looking forward to a long, hot bath and an abyssal-level sleep in her bed. She'd manipulated and expelled more aether than she had in a long time and she found since she'd confronted the Keeper of the Lake, her internal reservoirs were not as deep as they once were.
So it was she bathed and slept, deep and dreamless in the ways of the truly exhausted. When she woke, she puttered around the Stones with a few odd jobs. One took her to Limsa to check on Tataru who was training at the arcanists guild (and not well, at that) and another took her traipsing about Eorzea, aiding to guard a scholar gathering aetherical readings.
It was on the last that they discovered a grizzly sight - Wilred, the lad from Little Ala Mhigo - dead in the Shroud and not by any beasties. He'd been murdered and it called more to Rhea's shared suspicions with Riol that something was afoot. Still, it was for Ilberd to investigate. She was glad for him and he knew he could call upon her should she need anything. He was a good man in her eyes, and through all the work they had done together, she was proud to call him a friend.
Returning to Mor Dhona, Rhea rested and made ready for the Royal Banquet.