Chapter 25: Dead Men Do Tell Tales
15th day of the Wyvern Moon 1180. Underworld, Palace of Hyperion the Younger.
It was strange, I had to admit. I was now inspecting my own palace, an experience I thought I would never have. Hydros had called me earlier that day to tell me that construction was finished. From what I could see so far, I was liking the end result. It was gigantic, of course, and normally I'd consider it a huge waste of arable land, but the Underworld was quite literally infinite in size, not to mention the absence of any necessity for crops. Still, many of the dead liked gardening and light farming as a hobby. Digressions aside, the outside of the palace screamed authority without ever seeming snobbish, though it still spoke of more pomp than I had expected. The architectural style was an odd mix of many styles from all over the world.
No description could ever do it justice, but if I had had to describe it, I would have said that "titanic fortress city" fit the bill pretty well. For its size alone, the thing deserved to be called a monstrosity, though it would be unfair to call it so because of its beauty. Over the space of over five square kilometres there was nothing but the palace complex.
Dark, reddish-black walls encompassed it in its totality, and three more concentric walls separated the structure into rings. These rings were connected by other wall segments, essentially creating massive baileys. The towers and turrets which dotted the walls bore many different architectural styles that blended together almost seamlessly and added much to the impression of an unassailable citadel. I also noted that each ring was higher than the previous, almost as if the palace was situated on a small mountain, making the whole thing look like an overly fortified, multicultural Machu Picchu. There was also a pair of walls that led away from the outermost ring to a big, golden gate a few hundred metres away from the palace. I wondered what that was since it didn't seem to belong to the structure, but I would learn of it in time.
And there, at the centre of it all was a massive, white-gold tower that reached eight kilometres into the sky. In every cardinal direction there was in gigantic size the symbol I had chosen to represent me engraved on it: A red-rimmed, white circle at whose bottom was a black crown with a red outline facing outward and at whose top was a bright orange flame, also facing outward from the circle and with a red outline.
"Gee, I sure feel humble for having such a small house," I said sarcastically. "Didn't I specifically say that it shouldn't be pompous?"
Right next to me stood Erebus, Nyx, Ananke, Chronos, Hydros, Ra, Brahma, Izanagi, Izanami, Buri and his cow Aothumbla, Marduk and a whole slew of other primordials. Most of them just stared owlishly at me while Erebus and Nyx snickered. "We might have forgotten to mention that small detail," said Erebus mirthfully. His tone made it clear that absolutely nothing was forgotten.
I levelled him and his far-too-amused wife with a stare and then I sighed. "So long as you didn't forget any of the essentials I told you about, it should be alright." I directed my gaze at the others and said, "I presume most if not all of you had a hand in the construction process. While it didn't turn out how I wanted it to, that wasn't your fault, and what you have done seems to be an exemplary job. Thank you."
That statement begat a pleasant response from the crowd. I smiled. "Alright then, let us have a look at the interior. I need to know where everything is to run this place as best as I can."
With that began a tour of the immense complex. Erebus and Nyx, the main architects of the place, were the ones to usually tell me the functions of certain sections. In essence, the outer ring was reserved for barracks, guard houses, training fields weapon storages. I was a bit perplexed as to why such a thing would be needed, but I guessed that in the unlikely case of an extra-universal invasion it would come in handy.
The middle ring was where many interesting facilities were located. There were recreational places like baths, libraries, arcades (glad to know that technological progress hadn't eluded the Underworld), gyms and other stuff. There were also schools, which I was glad to see. Not everyone died with an education, and those who wished to get one would be accommodated. The psychiatric hospitals were also an addition I approved of. Traumatic deaths – and lives – were far from uncommon.
The inner ring was there for the purpose of administration. Halls of records, administrative offices, research facilities and a few factories dotted it. I didn't know the exact purpose of the latter yet, but even the Underworld needed to process resources sometimes. Fortunately, there were no pollutants here.
Behind the innermost set of walls, then, was the final destination of our inspection. Ra, who proudly proclaimed to be the designer of its exterior, called it the Throne Spire. Brahma, the designer of the tower's defences, took some time to explain its core mechanism to me.
"Your Majesty, the tower was built to recognise you as its master," he said. "It is bound to you and your domain. As such, it is as infinite, shifting and ever-expanding as the Underworld itself. The floors will shift in position and connect to each other according to your wishes. Any unwanted intruder can be trapped in an empty floor created for this specific purpose. Every essential level can be moved further up or down to get them out of the way of attackers, or they can be brought closer together for convenience."
I was pleasantly surprised. "Outstanding job! That was an ingenious idea," I said while putting a hand on his shoulder. "And no need for that 'Your Majesty' stuff. I may be in charge of the Underworld, but I've still got a lot to learn."
"That would be improper," retorted Brahma.
I sighed. "Fine, but only in official capacity. You have leave to address me as Hyperion when we talk about matters outside the job, and you're encouraged to do so. That goes for everyone here."
Before we entered the tower itself, I took a look at the palace complex from where we stood, and I spotted the pair of walls leading away from it again. "Hey, Nyx! What is the golden gate this passage leads to?" I asked
Nyx smiled and answered, "The gate is the entrance to Sothis' Heaven. Within the passage itself is the Hall of Judgement. Come here. You can see it from where I'm standing." She waved at me and I did as she had asked. I saw a light-brown building barely as a high as the walls sandwiched between them. It looked like they were built around it. "There are four gates," continued Nyx. "One is the entry gate, which goes through the wall. At its opposite side is the gate to Tartarus. You can't see it from here, but there's an opening to the Pit right outside. The other two gates lead to Sothis' Heaven and to your palace respectively. Both of those paths are surrounded by the walls."
With that out of the way, we entered the tower. On its ground floor was the Throne Room. The walls were white, decorated with red and gold tapestries. A number of black pillars rose to the ceiling. Equally black was the large throne situated on a dais at the back of the room. The dais leading up to it seemed like it was made of white marble, giving the whole thing a regal look. The throne itself was a bit peculiar. Apart from the red cushion, there was another oddity. One seat was carved into it, and one more beside would be easy to add, but it seemed like it was a bit too high up, almost as though a lower tier of seats was intended for later addition. I furrowed my brow. Maybe it was thought for children. I almost snorted. Yeah right, as if, I thought. It was most likely intended for the highest raking subordinates, the Prince/Princess of the Realm kind of stuff.
"How does it look?" asked Hydros.
I blinked. "Wait, did you design this?"
The Primordial of the Waters nodded once with enthusiasm. "I sure did," he said. "Do you like it?"
"I do. Great job, Hydros, and thank you." The pleased smile I received for that statement cemented my decision to not change anything about it.
"Erebus," I said, "Before we have a look at anything else, is the SIC finished and manned?"
He lifted his hand in a so-so gesture. "The structure is finished, but we haven't yet summoned everyone on your list. Finding the others for your surprise took precedence."
I shook my head. "It's alright. We won't be able to make much use of it before Hanneman finishes the communication spell anyway."
The SIC, short for Strategic Information Centre was a project I had been working on ever since the visit to the Holy Tomb. It relied on the old spaceship's continent-spanning sensor systems, which had only just finished repairs the previous night. The plan was to use the sensors to get data on the strategic situation in Fodlan, transmit that data to the SIC and then let its experts handle the strategy. As for the experts, well, I was the Lord of the Dead. The greatest and, more importantly, most competent commanders in history were at my beck and call. Wasting such immense resources was folly.
"Very well," said Erebus. "In that case, let us continue."
Next on the list of places to visit were the Reception Hall and the guest quarters, made for visitors for which the Throne Room just wouldn't do. These facilities would see their uses later down the road, but I had wanted them finished as soon as possible. Their purpose was important to me.
The rest of the tower was composed of a multitude of different types of floors: flats for permanent residents, ball rooms, treasuries, personal libraries, the new teleportation platforms, and a few rooms I was pretty sure had been added as a prank by the giggling duo of Primordials who had headed the construction project. I was pretty sure I'd never need an entire floor full of medieval torture instruments unless I wanted to host the annual meeting of the Underworld's re-enactment association. At least it would go well with the medieval armoury a few floors later. I also had no need for a temple dedicated to myself, thank you very much.
The tour came to an end when we reached my personal bedchambers. I had already been wondering why that one had been saved for last, but when Erebus and Nyx went from giggling to snickering, I knew I'd be in for it. I opened the door and took in the sight of a beautifully furnished room. Drawers, shelves and armoires made of dark wood were present as well as king-sized bed with artfully made carvings on the bedposts at the centre of the room. It was very impressive and all in all wonderful, but it didn't take me long to spot the reason for the dark duo's laughter.
"Was this really necessary?" I asked, pointing at the half dozen queen-sized beds.
Nyx snickered for a bit longer before she answered, "Why, yes, Your Majesty. You'll have occupants for all of them soon enough, I'm sure. You're a God, after all."
I stared at her. "Do I look like Zeus to you?" I asked with a raised voice, trying to hide the small bit of pain I felt behind my incredulity. Snickers turned into outright laughter. I didn't think she or her husband had intended for that prank to be hurtful, but it was. I was still a bit affected by the bad mood from three days ago, and so, I didn't hold back from adding, "Hell, does it look like anyone aside from me will set foot into any bed of mine within the next century?"
The laughter stopped immediately. Erebus and Nyx exchanged glances with each other. Then, the both of them looked at me. "My apologies, Your Majesty. I did not realise that this was a sore subject for you," said Nyx.
Erebus followed suit. "I apologise as well."
I shook my head. "No, it's fine," I said. "You just caught me on a bad day for that topic. You'd find me laughing along with you on any other day. It was a good prank, but it has reminded me of… unpleasant thoughts. I just don't like having my inadequacies shoved in my face during such times."
The two exchanged glances again and the crowd behind us joined us in awkward silence. Well, so much for the good mood.
28th of the Wyvern Moon 1180. Byleth's mindscape.
Sothis was in deep thought. So many things were going on. Some were large-scale, some were small-scale, some were more private. Reflecting on everything that had happened since her awakening, she concluded that she approved of the direction things were moving in, minus the recent outbreak of war. She was glad that the world hadn't completely fallen apart after her demise.
A sad frown marred her face as she thought about that. Much had gone wrong after the event. She fought down the urge to cry as she thought of her children and their descendants. They had not deserved that fate. Of all her kin, only six were left now, including Byleth, and it tore at her heart.
That line of thought brought her to Seiros, her youngest. Sothis' greatest regret regarding her daughter was that she hadn't been there to raise her properly. She'd been forced to restore the planet before Seiros had reached adulthood. The healing sleep had cost both of them precious time together, and Seiros had suffered for it.
As a consequence of Sothis' absence from her life, she had, in some part, remained a child who believed that her mother could make things right again when they were wrong. And then the massacre at Zanado had happened. That childish belief had become an obsession, one that had weakened only enough for Seiros to treat those affected by her machinations as people instead of mere tools.
It was that very obsession that was the greatest cause of problems in Seiros' personal relationships to other people, including Sothis herself. The latter part of it had come as an unpleasant surprise, but the Goddess did not let herself be deterred. She loved her daughter in spite of all her faults, for that was what love was about. That love, however, did nothing to fix the tension that had developed between her and her daughter on one specific subject: Hyperion.
Seiros seemed convinced that he was set against her. She disliked him and his apparent rashness, a critique that Sothis (and Hyperion himself) agreed was true. She refused any attempt to speak to him. Only recently had she relented and agreed to communicate with him on the 31st of this month. Hyperion had apparently planned something big and had asked Sothis to not only spread the word to a few people but also to follow along as well. Hopefully whatever he had planned would lay the groundwork for a better relationship between her daughter and her friend.
Speaking of Hyperion, he was also on Sothis' mind a lot as of late. At first, she hadn't been sure why he played such a big part in her thoughts, seeing as Byleth, her other new friend, did not do the same. It was a bit paradoxical. Byleth was her kin, after all, but there was just something about Hyperion that interested her. As soon as she'd realised that, one question had been solved and several more had sprung up. From that point on, Sothis had begun studying her fellow deity and his behaviour closer than before.
He was a contradictory mess of simple and complicated, in short. He was easily amused, easily angered, easily calmed down and, as she had learned recently, easily depressed as well. He was usually also quick to get back to his normal emotional state. The reasons behind any behaviour tended to have more depth than she had expected for such transient emotional states.
Part of it were the things about him that were easy to read. Sothis had noticed his eyes on her not long after she had regained her adult form. He wasn't even half as subtle as he probably hoped he was. She had initially been weirded out a bit because she hadn't expected to suddenly be looked at like that by her friend, but all things considered, it wasn't really strange behaviour from a man who saw a woman he found attractive. She had come to not really mind it. In fact, she kind of appreciated his gaze, viewing it as a compliment. Growing up around incorrigible perverts such as the dead Gods tended to be had shaped her views on such things somewhat.
Paradoxically, he'd never made any moves on her despite the signs of her budding interest in him. Oh, his eyes wandered a lot when she, quite intentionally, gave him something to look at and he always seemed pleased when she leaned into him during their movie nights, but nothing ever came of it. Some time ago, it seemed, he had even started to put up walls around himself. He was still friendly as ever, hugged her quite often and joked around like usual, but she could see him forcing himself not to look at her.
That move had caused her quite a bit of confusion. She hadn't known what was going on when she'd started to notice it. Then, about two weeks ago, he'd had a sudden surge of bad mood. It had lasted for several days, but he'd gotten over it, and Sothis would have dismissed it eventually if not for Cethleann.
The second youngest of her kin had prayed to her roughly a week ago and had told her of her last conversation with Hyperion. It had brought some things to light that were quite alarming to Sothis. She'd suddenly realised that his self-depreciating jokes were not just jokes to him but also often his honest opinion of himself.
With part of the mystery revealed, Sothis had opted to dig more into this personally and find out where the problem was. On the night of her talk with Cethleann, she'd waited for activity in the mindscape to die down. She'd silently descended the steps of her throne and had snuck towards Hyperion's bed. He had once let it drop that he sometimes mumbled to himself before falling asleep, and she had thought to exploit this to gain some information. Information she got. His initial mumbles had been about her, and the things he'd said in his half-sleep had left her blushing up a storm, but then the subject had shifted to himself. There hadn't been any blushing from that point onwards.
Over the course of the next few nights, she'd snuck down again and had listened in on his mumbles. He hadn't done it every night, but it had been the case more often than not. The subjects of his mumbles had so far remained the same. She'd thought she'd gotten a clear picture of him, but she'd wanted to be sure.
Concurrent with her eavesdropping, Sothis had also stated trying to read him during their daily soul-soothing sessions. The aspect of the Soul was a minor domain of hers, after all, even if Hyperion had a major domain over it. Her attempts had been a series of failures, until this night. The results of it had left her confused.
The process was hilariously easy, in retrospective. Hyperion trusted her almost completely, making access to his soul practically child's play once she'd found a point at which to do so. She had planned to dig deep, if necessary, but the surface alone had been more than enough to get a good measure of him and his current troubles.
It had been surprising for her to discover just how fragile he really was and how vulnerable he felt. She had felt his contentment at helping her, someone he held dear. However, under all his joviality and friendly demeanour, there was a different side to him she had rarely ever seen him display openly. For one, she had felt his lust for her; it had been far more intense than she'd anticipated, and it had left her with a mixture of embarrassment and appreciation on her part. There had been shame and guilt on his part for desiring her in this way too, however. Not just that but also a worryingly deep-seated disgust at himself for lusting after a treasured friend.
She'd almost missed the feelings of resignation and the hopeless longing for a deep emotional bond due to the mess of other, more intense feelings she'd perceived. It was like he expected any relationship he had with other people, platonic or otherwise, to fall apart due to his emotional deficiencies. She had the impression that he expected to be abandoned, even betrayed, by his friends for being insufferable and a burden.
Right at that point, she had stopped, realising with a dropping heart just what she had been doing. Even now, Sothis was ashamed. Hyperion trusted her, and she'd violated that trust by spying on him and invading his privacy in one of the worst ways possible. The Goddess chewed on her lip as she contemplated on how to broach that topic to him and how to apologise. She knew, now even better than before, that Hyperion was adamant about his privacy when it came to things he wasn't sharing on his own initiative. She had no idea how to fix this. Lying or keeping quiet about it was out of the question. She didn't want to, not to mention that Hyperion would never fully trust her again if she did that and he found out about it.
The other problem the Goddess saw herself confronted with was the things she had discovered with her spying act. Her assessment of him painted the picture of a man desperately trying not to fall apart in spite of not having any hope for success. He sought a deep connection to those dear to him, but felt himself incapable of doing so. Connected to that, he knew he felt a strong desire for her, but he had no idea if he actually loved her, and he felt guilty for his ogling of her body and for his thoughts about touching her in an intimate manner. Again connected to all this was a general sense of low self-worth. By his own estimation, neither he nor his contributions to anything, barring a few exceptions, were or even could be worth much.
Sothis tried to think of something to do about both of these problems. Talking with Hyperion was a given, and so was apologising. Sadly, she still had no idea how to do it, though she concluded that subtlety had to go. He associated subtlety with "subtext I'm missing" when it came to interpersonal subjects. She would have to be blunt, straight-forward and unmistakeable in her words for him to believe that he had understood her correctly.
Therein laid the problem for her. The need to be blunt would make her apology more difficult. Depending on his reaction to it, talking about his emotional problems and about her interest in him would possibly not be viable. She was caught between a rock and a hard place.
"Just what am I going to do?" she asked herself quietly.
31st day of the Wyvern Moon 1180. Underworld, Reception Hall of the Throne Spire.
Tonight was going to be big. Months of preparation had gone into this. A lot of hard work on the part of my subordinates had been done to facilitate this surprise. I would have to make sure to give everyone my thanks to make this possible.
For now, I looked at the crowd that had gathered in the Reception Hall. Everyone here was one of those who had taken up my invitation and prayed to me tonight. Almost everyone had come: Students, Professors, monks and nuns, knights, even Rhea. That was a fortunate surprise and I was glad she was here. She would have regretted missing this.
There were curious glances at their surroundings, and a few of them were directed at me. Most of them had seen me already in my prayer space, but not everyone. Some talking was going on as well, but the clamour eventually abated. My guests' attention focussed on me, and I knew it was time to start.
"Good evening, folks," I began. "I am sure you're wondering why I've asked you all to gather here tonight. Come to think of it, you're probably also curious where 'here' even is. You're about to get the answer. Some of you might even have guessed it already, provided they know about the significance of this night."
The people in the room looked at each in askance, wondering if someone knew. When nobody said anything after a few seconds, I continued. "Those of you who still remember the old calendar from before the advent of the Adrestian Empire will know that tonight is the 31st of October. It is a very special night known as All Hallows' Eve, Halloween for short. Another name it bears is Samhain. It is the one night of the year during which the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead is at its thinnest. What I mean to say with this is: Welcome, one and all, to a night in the Underworld. Enjoy your visit to my realm and be merry, for those long departed are within reach this night."
That got me startled reactions from the crowd. I grinned. "With that said, I need Hanneman, Jeralt, Byleth, Rhea and Sothis to follow me for a bit. You four over there," I said while pointing at four pale figures, "Will remain here until I'm back. The rest of you may exit through yonder door there." Here I pointed to one of the exits of the Reception Hall, where a bunch of Primordials were ready to escort my guests. "These fine people will escort you to places we have prepared for each of you. Have fun with my surprise for you, everyone. I will see you in the morning."
The people slowly dispersed and did as I asked. The largest group went with the Primordials, some of whom were laughing at the strange looks they received for their appearance, while the few I had called out remained. "Alright then," I said, "I'm going on a small tour with these five here. Hold down the fort for me, Kronya."
The five in question turned and took a moment to stare at the four pale people in the room. They were clearly Agarthans. At their front was Kronya, who laughed and replied, "Sure thing. You're the boss."
"What?" I asked when the others turned again to look at me. "I know they're prisoners at Garreg Mach, but remember that they've essentially been kept as slaves. They're here because they want a chance at redemption for their evil deeds, whether they are responsible for them or not, and I'm willing to give them one."
Everyone, with the notable exception of Rhea, seemed to acknowledge that reasoning. I could still feel the Archbishop's disapproving glare at the back of my head once I'd turned, but there was nothing I could do about it. Things would be cleared up soon. Meanwhile, however, there was a room I wanted to show to them.
The walk was relatively short. The only stop we made was in the Throne Room, mostly because Sothis and Byleth were curious about the place. After that, it only took a few minutes of walking before we reached a barred door with four guards stationed in front. They were warriors from Elysium, hand-picked and recommended by Ananke and Chronos.
"Gentlemen, open the door, please," I said.
"As you command," responded the lead guard. He turned to operate a small panel behind him. The door opened after a few seconds, and the guards made way for us. I nodded at them and led my companions through the door.
The room we entered was spacious, but it was also full of furniture and people. It was a hub of activity as those working there walked and talked, going from workstation to workstation, looking at monitors, drawing on whiteboards and blackboards and debating what was on them, doing the same with maps, running simulations on computers or playing them out at a table in the back of the room.
"What the Hell is this place?" asked Jeralt.
A broad grin spread on my face. "Welcome to the Strategic Information Centre. This, my friends, is our greatest strategic advantage in the war for Fodlan. From here, all enemy and allied moves can be tracked in real-time. We can compile and devise new strategies here without fear of spies overhearing our plans."
Stunned faces greeted me. "How is this possible?" asked Byleth.
"Glad that you asked," I said. "Thanks to our illustrious fun-sized Goddess over here-," I went on while putting a hand on Sothis' head and patting it. "Hey!" "-We have access to a spacecraft. By necessity, any craft in space requires sensors that can make out obstacles in the craft's way from several thousands of kilometres away. So, when we went to the Holy Tomb, I had the maintenance protocols first prioritise themselves and then the sensors. The only thing left to do was to link the ship's systems to me and boom, foundation for the SIC!" I chose to ignore the angry glare Rhea had been shooting my way since my hand had landed on Sothis' head. Instead, I turned to the room and shouted. "Oi, Linda! Activate the holo-map if you'd be so kind." "On it, boss!" came back a shout.
That very instant, a coloured holographic image shot up from an empty table in the middle of the room. It displayed all of Fodlan, Albinea and Morfis as well as parts of Brigid, Almyra and Sreng. The colour scheme was what one would expect from a normal map, though there were other features as well. There were masses of coloured dots all over the place. I chose to explain them. "Alright, listen up. This is important. Red dots are the Adrestian forces loyal to Emperor Ionius. Purple dots are Adrestian forces rebelling against him. Yellow dots are Leicester troops. Blue dots mark Faerghus forces loyal to Dimitri while pink denotes troops under Rufus. Black dots are Agarthans. The White dots are troops of the Church. If you see green dots, it's Almyrans."
"Why would Almyrans come to Fodlan?" asked Rhea.
I raised an eyebrow. "You don't know? An Almyran Prince is in Fodlan. It's neither a state visit nor an infiltration mission, but some hints should have been clear at this point. Then again, I can't really judge. I've got the benefit of hindsight." When no reply came my way, I spoke up again. "Anyway, everyone here has sworn oaths on the Styx to never betray our cause. Any allegiances these people held in life are now secondary to their allegiance to the Underworld and its ruler, that being me, and my allegiance is to my friends Sothis and Byleth."
"In that case, would you please take your hand off my head? It's embarrassing," said Sothis. She sniffed in clearly faked indignation. I laughed, but I did as she'd asked.
Byleth probably feared that his grandmother would soon explode with how much she seemed to seethe next to him. He decided to bring things back on track lest she lose her temper for real. "What does it mean to swear an oath on the Styx?"
"An excellent question," I answered. "The Styx is the river of hatred and the river of oaths. For mortals, breaking an oath sworn on the Styx means death. For someone who is already dead or for a God, the consequences are worse than that. An extended stay in the Fields of Punishment or even in the Pit is not out of the question. As such, oaths sworn on the Styx are a great way to ensure loyalty. It's this type of oath that I will have our Agarthans take."
Byleth furrowed his brow. "Our Agarthans?"
I nodded. "Kronya and the three we captured on the fleet. I told you that I'd give them a chance at redemption, not that I'd trust them blindly."
Was I imagining things or did Rhea look mollified by that statement? Huh. Well, it seemed like there was actually something I could work with regarding her.
"Alright then, with that wrapped up, we can finally get on with the primary purpose of tonight. I will lead you to the guest quarters to drop most of you off," I said.
And that I did. We left the SIC again and walked back. While the route did lead back to the Throne Room, we went around the Reception Hall and instead headed straight for the corridor that led to the quest quarters. Once we'd arrived there, I spoke again. "Hanneman, about 200 metres down the corridor is room 409. You're expected there. Byleth, Jeralt, you head to room 408. The rest of us are headed elsewhere. I'll see you in the morning."
After this parting of ways, I led Rhea and Sothis away from the corridor. We passed the Throne Room again, though we didn't enter it this time. While we walked, I decided to give my two guests a clue about our destination. "The three of us are going to leave the palace. I couldn't prepare your part of tonight's event here so I'll have to bring you where it's at."
"Our part of the event?" asked Sothis.
I nodded. "It sounds a bit awkward, but I don't want to spoil the surprise any more than I already have."
It didn't take much longer for us to reach a stairwell. We entered it and went up a storey. Once we'd exited the stairwell, we entered a room large enough to hold several hundred people. On its floor was my personal Sigil. This was a teleportation chamber. I said as much to my companions and had them brace for transport. A flash of light followed and we were gone from my palace.
The place we landed at was another palace. Its black exterior and the eerie, shadow like appearance gave it away as the residence of Erebus and Nyx. I turned to the two women behind me and said, "This is the palace of Erebus and Nyx. It borders the river of Oceanus. Across the river is the realm of Erebus. Consider that a sort of waiting room to the Underworld itself. It is where the souls of the departed wait for transport across the Oceanus or the Styx. Staying there can best be described as 'definitely dead, but not completely there yet.' Of course, in the absence of Charon, the ferryman of the Underworld's rivers, Erebus has become a bit crowded. A lot of the slack was taken up by Sothis' powers, which slowed down her recovery, but now that I'm here, things are running more efficiently again."
"Why are you telling us this?" asked Rhea. She seemed both impatient and curious. I smiled.
"You're about to see."
We passed the shadowy palace and went around to its back. A boat stood there on the ground just a handful of metres away from the palace. I stepped into it and sat down. I bade Sothis and Rhea to sit down as well. Then, I said, "Oceanus, the King demands passage." The ground turned to water and a black mist enveloped us.
Only a few seconds later, the mist disappeared again and our boat was situated on a broad river. We hit the shore after a few minutes during which the boat had surged forward on its own without the aid or a rower. The same black mist that had surrounded us temporarily was present here as well.
"What is this mist?" asked Rhea.
"Erebus is the Lord of Darkness. This is his realm, and it is near a river. Dark mist is the least you should expect. Those who reside here for long can see through it, but visitors are generally blind as a mole here," I answered. "Now then, we've arrived. There's just one thing left for me to say here: Have a happy reunion." I grinned and clapped my hands together. The mist lifted, and my surprise, as well as my way to fulfil my promise to Sothis, was revealed.
On the shore of Erebus stood the forms of twenty dragons. Their shapes and sizes varied greatly, but they all had one thing in common: They all bore the symbol of a Crest on their foreheads. Predictably, my companions stood there with open mouths, staring at the sight before them. A happy smile spread on my face at that.
I couldn't help but pat Sothis' head once more while my grin grew larger. She looked quite adorable when she was gobsmacked like that. "Go on then, you two. I'll come back in the morning to get you. There's still some stuff I have-" I never got to finish that sentence, for Sothis had turned around while I had been speaking and now had a tight grip on the collar of my shirt. She pulled me down and smashed her lips on mine. And with that, my mind shut off.
It took me a few seconds to regain my higher brain functions. By that time, her lips had left mine already and I could hear booming laughter from the dragons. "Sothis, what…," I began, though I didn't know what to say.
"We'll talk later," she said, ignoring the slack jawed Archbishop next to us for now. "There's a lot we have to discuss, but this gift definitely warranted at least that much. Do what you must for now while I talk to my children. And thank you." She gave me a bright smile and turned towards the dragons, dragging the still unresponsive Rhea along.
I did eventually move again after a minute or two.
At roughly the same time. Underworld, Hyperion's Palace, room 408 of the guest quarters.
Neither Jeralt nor Byleth knew what to expect when they stepped through the door. Hyperion's sense of humour could be a bit strange and there was always a chance that this was some sort of elaborate joke. That notion didn't survive for long, however.
"Hello Jeralt. Hello Byleth. I'm so happy to meet you again," said a voice in greeting.
The woman to whom the voice belonged wore a kind smile full of joy. Her long, dark green hair struck a chord in Byleth, and Jeralt's breath hitched when he looked at her. He raced forward, appearances be damned, and wrapped his arms around her. The woman responded in kind. Jeralt shook and Byleth noticed that his father had begun to cry.
"Sitri…," he choked out.
"Shh, it's alright, my love," said the woman. "I'm here, you're here, and our son is here as well."
Startled, Byleth took a closer look at the woman. She looked the same age as him, and that confused him. Only then did he realise that his mother had died at a younger age than he currently was, and that his father had called the woman here Sitri. He was suddenly overcome by a sense of sadness that made its way through whatever normally dampened his emotions.
"I'm sorry, Mother," he said.
Sitri looked at him in confusion. "Whatever for?" she asked, still embracing her husband.
Byleth swallowed a lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. "You died because of me," he said quietly.
"You can't possibly blame yourself for that!" exclaimed Sitri. Gently, she pushed away Jeralt and approached Byleth. She put her arms around him and kissed his forehead. "I love you, Byleth. I could have died a thousand times, and it would still have been worth it to bring you into the world. I chose to die so that you could live. Never blame yourself for the choices of others."
Jeralt joined Sitri in her embrace of their son. "Losing Sitri hurt, and it has never stopped hurting, but she's right. You are our gift to the world, and every bit of pain was worth it. Seeing you grow up has brought me more joy in life than anything else ever could."
And then, for the first time in his life, Byleth cried. He clutched his parents and basked in their presence as his emotions flowed without their usual obstructions.
At the same time. Room 409.
Hanneman was intrigued. He had no idea who or what was waiting for him, but he suspected it was interesting. Hyperion never disappointed when it came to that, even if he had a tendency to stray from the topic quite often. However, since there was no topic to stray from, he was looking forward to whatever event had been planned for him.
He opened the door, stepped through its frame, and froze. He beheld a woman who looked in his direction with an expectant impression, only for her to break out in a smile and stand up from the chair she had been sitting on once she'd seen him. "It's been far too long, dear brother," she said.
Dumbfounded, Hanneman closed the door behind him and braced himself for a conversation he had never had a chance to have while his sister had still been alive.
Near Room 818.
It was hard to guess where the strange man in front of her was leading her, but Lysithea didn't think he would do anything malicious or hurtful. Professor Byleth seemed to trust this Hyperion and Hyperion trusted the man. Ophion, he'd called himself. Alas, all insurances of safety did little to tamper her impatience. They had been walking for a good while now.
"We'll soon be there, little one," said Ophion.
She huffed. "Don't call me little!"
Much to her chagrin, the man only laughed. "Oh, but you are. Dear girl, my domain is Life itself. I know exactly how young you are." His laughter subsided. "I also know just how young you'll die unless something is done."
"So? What of it?" said Lysithea bitterly.
Ophion hummed. "Hyperion is young and unused to being a king. It really shows in how he conducts himself, but his heart's in the right place."
Lysithea furrowed her brows. "What does that have to do with anything?" she asked.
"He asked me to help you and the Princess," said Ophion. "He was willing to grant me favours and concessions in case I demanded payment. Fortunately for him and you, though, I like children."
"I see…," said the girl, even though she did not really see.
"I don't think you do, but you will," said Ophion in response.
He put a hand in a pocket on the inside of his robes and pulled out two needles. He took one of them, and before Lysithea knew what was going on, he stabbed it into her arm. She recoiled in alarm while yelping and tried to run away, but he gripped her arm.
"Peace, little one. Give it a few seconds," he said.
"Let me go!" yelled Lysithea in response and made ready to cast a spell. It would hit her as well, but she'd survive… hopefully. She wasn't really thinking clearly.
At that point, the needle sank into her arm and a strange warmth went through her body. The spell in her hand died and Ophion let her arm slip from his grip. She glared at him as she cradled her arm. "What the Hell was that?" she demanded.
Ophion smiled wryly. "That was a blessing. It only works once per person and all I could give you was ten more years' worth of life. I may be a Primordial, but I've never been particularly powerful." He then held the second needle in front of Lysithea. "Take it. It's for the Princess."
She took the needle tentatively and kept glaring at him. He chuckled and said, "Well then, we're here."
"Huh?" asked Lysithea. Only then did she notice that they had stopped in front of a door with the number 818 on it.
"Until we meet again, little one," said Ophion. He turned away from her and walked down the corridor in the direction they had come from.
Lysithea stood there for a good minute before turning to look at the door. She opened it carefully and stepped into the room. What she saw made her halt. There, on an assortment of couches sat people who had long since been dead. Siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, and servants who had been killed trying to protect the children of House Ordelia.
Room 566.
Dimitri neither knew nor cared for how long he had been crying at this point. For the moment, he was simply content to rest in his father's arms. Glenn was also there, as well as the nights of the royal retinue, and so was the woman that birthed him, a mother he'd never known. He did not know how he knew, but he just did. No words had been exchanged so far, only meaningful glances and a great deal of emotion.
"How have you been, Dimitri?" asked Lambert.
Not letting go of his father, the young Prince took some time to answer. "I'm… trying. It's hard to live with what happened during the Tragedy of Duscur. Lately, it's become both better and worse."
Lambert decided to dig a bit deeper. "Can you tell me more?"
Dimitri nodded reluctantly before he said, "Ever since it happened, I could hear your voice, and Glenn's voice. Everyone's voices. I know you're disappointed, but I'll get revenge for you, I swear."
Before anything more could be said, Lambert interrupted him. "Son, these voices weren't ours. We had no means to contact you. And while I don't know about the others, I can say with certainty that I don't want you to waste your life on revenge."
The Prince looked at once confused and relieved. "But… I could hear you," he stammered out.
Lambert shook his head. "No, what you heard was yourself. Your head is playing tricks on you. Your grandfather was the same, and so was his grandmother. They sometimes heard voices too."
That led Dimitri to swallow drily. "So that's why they said I was improving," he muttered.
"Who?" asked his father.
"Professor Manuela. When I told her that I heard your voices less often, she told me that I was getting better," answered Dimitri.
"Good," said Lambert. "What then, makes the situation worse? You said something about that."
Dimitri looked uncomfortable now, but he answered nonetheless. "Patricia, no… Anselma. She's still alive. She betrayed you. She betrayed you all. She said she did it for Edelgard and the other children she claimed as her own, that she was forced to betray you. I want to hate her, but I love her too. I banished her, and… and…" He didn't know how to continue. The words died on his tongue.
"I understand your anger," came a voice from beside the two. It was Glenn's. "All of us were angry once we figured out it was her."
"Were angry?" asked Dimitri.
"Yes," answered Lambert. "Since our deaths, we've managed to piece together a lot of what happened. We met Pat- Anselma's fellow Imperial Consorts and their children. What was done to them was monstrous. After hearing what they went through and that Anselma was blackmailed with that, none of us could muster too much anger. Bitterness? Oh yes, but no anger. I would have done the same in a heartbeat."
Glenn spoke up again and added, "Banishing her was the right choice, too. The nobles and the people won't accept anything less. To not impose any punishment would make you appear weak. This will make you look just and merciful instead."
Dimitri stayed silent for a bit and then said, "Alright."
"With that out of the way," remarked Lambert, "how about I introduce you to your mother?"
The woman next to Lambert smiled brightly. "It's wonderful to finally meet you. Let me tell you a bit about myself. My name is Felicia, and before you ask, Rodrigue did indeed name Glenn's younger brother after me…"
The realm of Erebus.
As Sothis dragged Seiros over to the rest of her children, their laughter started to die down. They chose to look at their living family with a fondness that someone unfamiliar with dragons' facial features would have been unable to make out. Still, some amusement remained. The largest of the dragons, the one with the Crest of Timotheos on his forehead, was the first to speak.
"Greetings, dear Mother. I'm happy to see you've finally found someone," he said with great mirth.
Sothis blushed, only now realising that she'd let Hyperion touch her head and had kissed him in front of all her children. "Shush, Arcturus! It's not like that!" With a murmur, she added, "At least not yet."
Arcturus chuckled. "Good luck, then. You deserve some happiness in your life. The Heavens know you have had far too little of that." He craned his log neck to the other woman present. "Hello to you too, Seiros. You've grown up so much since I've last seen you."
The youngest child of Sothis said nothing for some time, but slowly, she found words to speak. "Is this real? It feels like a dream. It's been so long."
"Oh, it is very real indeed," spoke a feminine voice. It belonged to a medium sized dragon. Unlike her brother Arcturus, who was coloured black all over, this one was brown. She lowered her head and gently poked Seiros with her snout. "I, for my part, am glad for this opportunity."
"I can't believe this," breathed out Seiros as she moved her hands across her oldest sibling's draconic face. It had been over a thousand years since she had last touched any of her family, but she had never forgotten their favourite ways to have their faces caressed. Yochri had always loved being rubbed between the eyes.
To humans, such practices would have seemed strange, but they were dragons, and amongst them, gentle and elaborate touches to the head were how affection of all kinds was expressed. Incidentally, that was why Arcturus had read so much into Hyperion's hand on Sothis' head, and it was one of the reasons why Seiros was so cross with him.
It was also why the Goddess was always so embarrassed whenever he did it. Touching her head like he often did was equivalent to claiming her as family. When she had been in child form, she had thought he was doing it to claim she was a child he was adopting to take care of. Once she had returned to adult form, she had taken the gesture as one of romantic claim. Only after her confusing episode with Hyperion's seemingly contradictory feelings did she remember that that sort of touch had a different meaning for humans. No human had ever touched her head, after all, so she hadn't paid attention to that.
"Why can't you?" asked Yochri in response to Seiros' statement.
Seiros paused in her movements for a bit while she tried to find words that fit. "I would have expected to be left out of this."
Before Yochri could respond to that, Sothis did. "That doesn't make any sense. Whyever would you believe something so foolish?" She looked quite silly as she asked this; she was standing under Arcturus' head and scratched his chin with one hand while her second hand was busy caressing another dragon's head under the left eye. Nevertheless, her question was serious and so was the answer.
"Because the buffoon is trying to take you away from me!" shouted Seiros.
Sothis flinched, not having expected the sudden shift in tone. "Buffoon?"
"That reckless fool Hyperion," growled Seiros. That growl gradually shifted into distress as she talked. "He denigrates my achievements, criticises me, forces me to change the Church, and you… you just go along with everything he says! He touches your head as though he were worthy of you, and you let him! I've only just gotten you back, and he's taking you away from me, Mother. How can I not think that he would deny me the chance to meet my family again?"
The Goddess let go of the two dragons' heads and walked over to her youngest daughter, embracing her and dragging her head down to place a kiss on top of it. "Seiros, nobody will ever take me away from you. Anyone who tries will get a taste of my wrath." She placed more kisses on her daughter's head, and the dragons joined in as best they could, but Sothis shifted her tone to a sterner one, though it was still kind. "That said, I am my own person. You don't own me. My affection is mine to give, and so are my opinions. I agree with many of Hyperion's critiques not because he whispers into my ear but because I happen to share his opinion independently of him. You would also do well to remember that he commended you for doing as well as you have."
Uncomfortable silence followed, safe for Seiros' quiet sobs as she clung to her mother and her siblings. It was quite depressing for all of them. Yochri tried to break the ice by broaching a new topic. "Mother, how are things in the world? What has become of those who stole our blood? Did our curses take hold? News is scarce here in the realm of Erebus. We only get glimpses of what is going on through our hearts when one of the thieves picks them up."
Yochri might have been the oldest of the Children of the Goddess, but her idea of changing the topic was not quite the distraction from the previous subject matter as Sothis had hoped, though she was able to work with this. "The original thieves are dead. Seiros killed most of them. With some, it's a bit more complicated. And now, there are the children with your blood. You should probably consider lifting your curses from them. You'd like them, I'm sure."
And so, the conversation slowly shifted away from the more uncomfortable topics to things they all could enjoy talking about. Eventually, stories of the old days were told, even quite a few of those that had happened before Seiros' birth. The spirits of the youngest sibling were slowly lifted and by the end of the night, everyone could say that they had had a good time.
Hyperion's palace.
While dozens of tearful reunions were going on, I was making my way back to the Reception Hall in a proper daze. Why had Sothis kissed me? Was it just a spur of the moment thing or was something more going on there? I had no clue and it would drive me crazy if I thought about it for any longer. I sighed. Well, Sothis had said that we would talk about it later, so I shook my head and put the topic on the backburner for now.
The thing I focussed on now was the four Agarthans waiting for me. That in itself was a bit strange. When my stint in this world had started, I wouldn't have thought it possible to work together with any Agarthans. I had already feared that we would have to be… thorough in disposing of the threat, but the knowledge that there were defectors and civilians who would surrender rather than fight until extinction had come as a great relief. That we would not have to blacken our souls like that was the greatest gift granted to us in this fight.
Consequently, I was in a good mood when I stepped into the reception hall again, a bit more than half an hour after everyone had left. "I'm back. I hope you didn't have to wait too long," I said in greeting.
"It is alright, my Lord," said one of them. His name was Nikola. Of the four Agarthans in Garreg Mach's custody, he was the one who had come closest to death upon the removal of his Dark Shell. It was understandable as he was the oldest of the lot at the age of 51. That he had survived at all spoke of a resilient soul and a will to resist that bordered on the legendary. He was also a bloody prankster, no matter how much he denied it. It was thanks to him that the four of them, including Kronya, started addressing me as "my Lord" despite my protests. Sometimes the universe just loved to make fun of me.
I shot him a look and said, "I told you not to hold back with the truth when we first met. But never mind that. How are the lot of you?"
"Mostly fine on my end, my Lord," said Kronya with a small, teasing grin. Her expression shifted back to neutral afterwards. "Imprisonment is boring, but it's nice to be able to sleep without fear. And it's good to have a sense of purpose again."
I nodded grimly. I remembered that she had attempted to commit suicide several times shortly after the removal of the Dark Shell, and I was glad that such times were now a thing of the (relatively) distant past. Fortunately, incidents like that had been prevented with the other three.
"It is much the same with me, my Lord," said Philip. Compared to Nikola, Philip was the complete opposite. At the age of 20, he was the youngest of the Agarthans in our custody and also the one whose Dark Shell was the easiest to remove. It had been implanted less than a year ago. "I'm getting a bit antsy, though."
I turned my head to the last of the four. "What about you?"
The young woman, Nadja by name, was rather shy. From what little she had told me, she had been part of some very gruesome missions for about four years now, ever since she'd turned 18, both as perpetrator and as victim. It had left her with deep emotional scars, which required as much treatment as Edelgard's and Anselma's traumata. "I'm fine, my Lord. My nightmares are mostly gone. You've helped me a lot."
"That's good to hear," I said with a smile. "Now then, have all of you thought about my offer?"
The four Agarthans looked at each other and nodded. Kronya, who was sort of their unofficial leader, stepped forward to speak for them. "We have, but we do have a question. What compelled you to give us positions like that?"
The offer I was speaking of was very much unorthodox. I was pretty sure that I'd get an earful from Rhea, a reproachful look from Sothis and a piercing stare from Byleth. To be fair, it sounded crazy, but I did have a plan. Essentially, these Agarthan defectors were to be the foundation of my priesthood.
I chuckled with some bitterness. "Try as I might, I can't stop word about me from spreading. I don't like it, and I don't want to be worshipped. Hell, I follow a monotheistic God. Do you know what kind of moral dilemma I'm facing? I'm asking myself big questions here. Will the souls of those who follow me be condemned by my Adonai? Will He accept them, basically making me an intermediary in the process? Will neither be the case? It's driving me up the wall."
"That does sound complicated," admitted Kronya, "But what does that have to do with us?"
The snort that escaped me spoke of cynicism. I said, "I was getting to that. Now that my name is growing in prominence, it won't be long before some moron thinks he or she is my voice among mortals and starts preaching fanatical nonsense that I never said or meant. To pre-empt this kind of stupidity, I have decided to found my own damn clergy. That's why I offered you to become its fist members. You get your freedom and something to do while I get to stay free of the bullshit of zealotry."
Looks were exchanged once more and the four whispered amongst themselves. I could have listened in, but I decided not to. This was something they had to decide for themselves. They turned after a minute and Kronya spoke again. "We've decided. We accept."
"Wonderful!" I said. "Have you thought about your oaths?"
"We have," answered Kronya. She seemed serious about this, but her tone spoke of a tiny bit of mischief. There was probably no malice behind it, though.
I nodded and spoke up again. "Excellent. In that case, let's head for the Throne Room. I'm not too much of a stickler for decorum, but some propriety should be observed with something as serious as oaths of service."
Kronya snickered. "Oh my. I'm more than ready to serve you," she purred seductively and bent forward to show off her assets. After a second of holding that pose, she broke out in laughter, and I followed suit, while the other three looked on in confusion.
Wiping away a tear from my eye, I said, "Damn, it's good to have someone with the same senser of humour around."
"You were joking?" asked Philip.
"Hey, I'm a very good actress! Well, short-term at least," answered Kronya.
Nikola released a long-suffering sigh. "Let's get on with it. We don't have all night."
Beside him, Nadja nodded. "We probably should. No offence, my Lord."
"No, no, it's alright," I said. "Don't hold back with questions and suggestions. It's better to look stupid than to be stupid."
The slow nod I received wasn't the enthusiastic answer I would have liked, but that was okay. I'd get her out of her shell in time. "If you say so," she said quietly.
With that said, the five of us left the Reception Hall and headed for the Throne Room. Once we were there, I had my companions stand in front of the throne and sat down on it. Then, I closed my eyes and used my powers in a way I had practiced for a few days now. A familiar sensation washed over me and I knew without looking that my crown was shining in the reddish-black colour of the Underworld's aspect of my powers. My eyes snapped open again.
"You, who stand before me, have come to exchange oaths with me," I began, "But be warned. My crown was quenched in the waters of the Styx, and so any oath sworn in its presence while its power is active is binding. Death and worse are the punishment for oath breaking. Do you still want to go through with this?"
I received for determined nods in response. I took a deep breath and recited my part of the oath, which I had been practicing ever since I'd gotten the idea for this. "Then, should you swear to me, I shall swear to you. You shall be the subjects of my protection and my judgement; loyalty for loyalty. Stay true to me and you shall never be forsaken."
The Agarthans before me exchanged looks again and nodded. It seemed they were satisfied with my oath. All of them took a deep breath, just as I had done, and they spoke in one voice: "Your will is our command. Our loyalty is to you. To the death, and beyond."
Well, that was neat. Short, succinct, and without any legalese nonsense. Then the last part sank in, just as the oath was taking hold and the glow of my crown faded. I shot them all a concerned look.
"Are you aware just what you've sworn here?" I asked. "I would have been satisfied with service until retirement age, not bloody eternity!"
Kronya snorted. "We're not stupid. Yes, we're very well aware. Didn't I say I was more than ready to serve?"
Damn it, Kronya!
AN:
Well, hello there, dear readers. My thanks once more to all reviewers, followers and favourers. I appreciate your support. You might note some more errors than is normal because I've had to rush the editing process for this chapter. We celebrate Christmas on the 24th around here, and I thought I'd drop you a small present with this.
Before I get to the notes on this chapter, I wish to clarify something on the last one that might have raised a brow or two. The troop numbers given to the Adrestian forces, loyalists and traitors combined, may seem unrealistic in a medieval context. I would like to say that late medieval armies could be quite big. In a place with easy logistics and plenty of food, like Fodlan, it is not strange to see large armies. As for professional armies, the Roman Empire fielded an army of about 300'000 men during Trajan's reign and over 500'000 during Diocletian's.
Now, here are some notes concerning this chapter:
Non-canon lore note on Ionius' family situation: Emperor Ionius, while following Lycaon I's Law of Imperial Succession and having only one true Empress-Consort, nevertheless announced engagements to all his Concubine-Consorts and married them. As such, even though they were officially "mere" concubines, they were treated as consorts until the Insurrection of the Seven.
Arcturus/Arktouros (Ἀρκτοῦρος) translates to "Guardian of the Bear." I thought the name fitting for the originator of a Crest that can tame beasts. Incidentally, arktos (ἄρκτος) means bear, which is why we call the place with polar bears the Arctic and the pole without them Antarctica.
Yochri is Sothis' oldest child. She is the Earth Dragon, the originator of the Crest of Cichol and ancestor of the Saint with the same name. Yochri's name has no real meaning or significance. Only Sothis' youngest four were named after stars.
As for today's recommended story, it's not a fanfic. I recommend to you A Returner's Magic Should Be Special by Sun-Wook Jeon an(?) So-Nan Yoo. It follows Desir Aman, a mage who has lived to see the end of the world and is now desperate to prevent it from happening again.
Incidentally, I recommend you look at chapter 98, page 15, even if you don't plan on reading it. It is what a proper Sephirothic spell should look like.
Alright then, until next time, and Merry Christmas, everyone!