Shez found Jeralt at the Weynon Priory & Pub just outside of Chorrol. The place was an unlikely combination of functions, but served them both well enough that no one objected.

Passing through the tavern section of the compound, Shez found herself in the familiar company of fellow mercenaries, the lot of them drinking their gold away after a job well done. She made her way to a table at the back, where one rather imposing man relaxed by his lonesome as he brought a tankard to his lips.

Shez took the open seat across from him. "I hear you're Jeralt the Blade Breaker," she said as way of greeting.

The man lowered his tankard but kept it hanging loosely in hand. "That I am," he said, casting a discerning eye over her. "You looking to hire, or you looking to join up?"

"Neither," refuted the purplette. "I've been hired to deliver this to you." Reaching into a bag, she took out the Crest of Flames and placed on the table in front of him.

The man's eyes widened and his demeanor changed. His tankard hit the table and he sat up straight. "Let's talk," he said, all traces of humor gone from his voice. "Grab the necklace and follow me."

Jeralt stood and marched over to a door, Shez sighing as she swiped the amulet to follow.

When it was just the two of them, Jeralt whirled to face her. "That's the Crest of Flames you have there," he observed neutrally.

"Yup. That's the package," confirmed Shez nonchalantly.

Jeralt narrowed his eyes. "Why do you have the Empress's amulet?"

"She told me to bring it to you before she died." Her words hit Jeralt noticeably, who couldn't help but flinch. "She said you would know where her last blood is, and to close Oblivion." She paused, taking in his hesitation. "This guy named Alois seemed to think it was something about an heir, but I'm still wondering if Rhea had a spare bottle of blood lying around."

The large mercenary sighed and placed a hand on his head. "Empress Rhea is really dead then," he muttered. "I didn't want to believe it, but… By the Divines…"

Shez frowned in sympathy. "Yeah… it wasn't great. She seemed a bit spacey, but a good person all the same. She didn't deserve what happened to her."

Jeralt took a deep breath before looking back to Shez. "Alright. I think I know what her plan was."

"Oh cool. What is it?"

"With the Empress dead and no heir to crown, that means the Dragonfires will be dark for the first time in centuries. And if the Dragonfires go dark… Well, bad things happen."

"What bad things?"

Jeralt shrugged. "I can't say for sure. The details have all been lost to history, even among the Knights of Seiros. But it supposedly involves a deal with the imperial bloodline and the Creator Goddess Sothis. Probably a deal we want to keep, right?"

Shez nodded. "Go on."

"Anyway… the Dragonfires can only be lit with the coronation of a true imperial heir. Bloodlines mean a lot to the Gods, I guess." He sighed. "You can guess where this is going."

"Right. We need to relight the Dragonfires using Rhea's last blood bottle."

Jeralt gave Shez the flattest look he could muster, silently cursing the Divines that this messenger could be such an idiot. "…No," he eventually managed, "It means we need to find the final heir to the Empire."

"Oh. So there really is another heir," remarked Shez casually.

Jeralt exercised his patience, taking a deep breath in, then a deep breath out. "There is. Could I ask you to find her? I'm still kinda drunk and I need to get some affairs in order."

"I guess," frowned Shez. "Am I getting paid for this?"

"…I'll give you fifty gold coins when you bring her back."

"Done. Who am I looking for and where am I going?"

"Her name is Byleth and you can find her in Kvatch. And you'd better leave the Crest with me for safekeeping."

As Shez cleaved her way through another daedra, she found herself wondering if all of this work was really worth a hundred gold.

Getting to Kvatch had been easy. Entering an Oblivion Gate to an otherworldly realm full of things trying to kill her was slightly more difficult. Actually closing said Oblivion Gate by pilfering their sigil stone and cutting down all the dremora that tried to stop her was quite hard.

However, it was also quite fun, so Shez decided to consider the intrinsic enjoyment of her job payment enough. Now all that was left was cleaning up the daedric forces left in Kvatch and finding Byleth.

Thankfully, Shez didn't have to do all this alone. The purplette blinked as the severed head of a daedroth rolled across the ground. She turned to her fellow mercenary and flashed her a grin. "Nice one!"

The stoic blunette responded with a quick nod of acknowledgement. Her gaze looked past Shez. "Behind you," she intoned.

Shez whirled and cut down an advancing dremora, the otherworldly invader screaming as his flesh melted from Ratslayer's enchantment. She looked down at the sword's latest victim. "Hmm… Maybe I should rename you to Daedraslayer?" She considered it. "Nah."

"There are more that way," reported her companion. "Ready to move on?"

Shez had encountered the mysterious mercenary at the maw of the Oblivion Gate, an implacable storm of perfectly tempered wrath they called the Ashen Demon. Sensing in her a kindred spirit, Shez had joined forces with the powerful woman, and the two were exhausting the daedric invasion forces singlehandedly.

"Sure, but before we head out, are we gonna hit the cathedral at some point?"

The Ashen Demon nodded. "It's at the end of the residential district." She tilted her head in question. "Why?"

"I've got a job to find a lost kid. She's Rhea's bastard or grandbastard or something, so she's probably a nun. Hence, the cathedral is the likeliest place she'll be," explained Shez, certain in her logic. A frown suddenly crossed her face. "I hope she's still alive."

"We'll find her," said her companion reassuringly.

The two fought their way through the desolated streets of Kvatch, cutting down daedra and liberating the remaining townspeople. It wasn't long at all until they arrived at the cathedral, filled with grateful survivors who wished to thank their saviors in person.

As Shez surveyed the various nuns to decipher which of them was likeliest to be her target, she caught sight of one of them speaking with her companion. With a generous figure and hair of spun gold, Shez knew this had to be her. It only made sense that Rhea's relative was the prettiest nun.

"…however could I possibly thank you for your heroic deeds?" swooned the nun as she pressed close to the Ashen Demon, trapping the blunette's arm between her breasts.

"No thanks necessary," replied the Ashen Demon stoically. "It was the right thing to do."

"Oh my! And you're so altruistic too~!" The nun let out a breathy sigh of desire. "You know… my quarters are still intact. Perhaps I could show you my humble abode and… demonstrate my hospitality," she flirted. "Could I offer you a massage? I would love to relieve your… tension~"

Shaking her head, the mercenary replied, "I don't require muscular relaxation at this time."

"Yo, Byleth!" interrupted Shez.

Both women turned at her approach.

Shez addressed the nun. "You're Byleth, right? I'm here to take you back to Jeralt. Ready to go?"

The nun blinked. "My name is Mercedes," she responded, confused.

"Seriously? Then who the heck is Byleth?" moaned Shez.

"I am," replied Byleth.

Shez blinked at Byleth. Byleth blinked back.

"It's been you the whole time?!" exclaimed Shez with belated realization.

"Yes." Byleth's brow furrowed. "Does this mean I'm a grand bastard?"