NOTE: This story does not avoid Spoilers at all, neither for FGO nor Three Houses, and this warning applies even from this first chapter.
Aside from that, constructive criticism is appreciated.
Inspiration: The idea for this fic came to me while reading through the story 'Demon in Fodlan', by Mundatorem, which I strongly recommend for anyone who enjoys both FGO and Three Houses.
Requisite disclaimer: Predictably, I don't own either Fate: Grand Order or Fire Emblem: Three Houses.
A scream split the air as the filthy man, moments before dismissed as a threat kicked himself back to his feet and charged, the movement surprising in its agility.
The flock of fools behind him roared in approval, as the reckless overhand chop fell towards a pale haired girl, who had drawn a dagger in defense.
Cloth flapped in the wind of movement as the taciturn young woman that both sides of this conflict had met mere minutes before interposed herself between the two, shoving the younger away and defending not with the steel in her hand, but the width of her back.
"Die!" The foul man shrieked, intent on claiming some measure of flesh from this unexpected interference.
The axe fell.
The world froze.
"Honestly!" blue eyes opened into a strange place, as the voice rang out scornfully, "What are you accomplishing with that little stunt?!"
The sassy child spoke, her words strange, and meaning more so, but the woman who had all but given her life to save a girl she had just met understood the ultimate result.
Somehow, this Sothis, would afford her a second chance.
The ever flowing sands of time would be forced to recede, barely a moments worth, but it should, would, be enough.
Byleth felt energy, wild and overwhelming, pulse out of her core and into the world, which felt dim in the unnatural stillness, altering the course of fate and allowing a new path.
Time shattered, shards of 'what had been' subsumed in part to fuel the power Sothis brought to bear.
A scream split the air as the filthy man, moments before dismissed as a threat kicked himself back to his feet and charged, the movement surprising in its agility.
The flock of fools behind him roared in approval, but beyond them, unheard and unnoticed by most, the world howled an empty agony as it worked to heal a wound it could not comprehend.
Within the land of Fodlan, beasts stirred as the world made known its displeasure.
The rush of air was his wake up call, and Ritsuka Fujimaru opened his eyes to yet another incident of surprise skydiving, sans parachute, of course.
He had his Chaldea combat uniform this time though, which was nice, better than the time he'd popped into this scenario in his Luluhawa swimsuit, though at least that time it turned out to be an actual dream, as evidenced by the ocean of pink lemonade he smashed into upon landing.
He still wasn't sure what caused that incident, and with dream cycle as a factor, and the frankly mind boggling number of servants contracted to him through Chaldea, it'd be almost impossible to guess.
At least the Count seemed to put some effort into keeping more dangerous dreams out of his head... though it could as easily be something the casters set up, or even Abby... or something he couldn't even imagine, given the sheer range of impossibilities in his life.
Of course, this was all a self imposed distraction from the real issue of figuring out whether this was a dream, the more likely option, or a real life threatening fall from the sort of height you wouldn't want to be at outside of an airplane.
Ah well, wouldn't be the first, or second, or third time, and he was confident that real or not, things would work out.
"Didn't Eresh say something about giving me a blessing of earth so I don't have to worry about this sort of thing anymore?"
"Senpai!"
Ritsuka looked above himself, surprised at the call.
"That's new, usually I'm running solo for a while in these dream singularities," he muttered, before raising his voice. "Hey Mash, nice of you to drop in!"
"This is not a joking moment!" Mash scolded, the scowling pout on her face more adorable than threatening, even in her Ortinax armor.
At least that helped confirm this was really happening, if this were a dream he'd expect her to be in her fluffy pajamas, or even that Fou onesie with the hood, given how cold it tended to get on the Storm Border.
"Yeah, guess not," the boy laughed into the wind, "probably should be working on a landing strategy... Which I guess is you, now."
Mash sputtered a moment when confronted with his wide smile, but soon sighed and returned it with a small one of her own.
"Of course Master," She declared. "Preparing to land in potentially hostile territory."
Serious now that she had settled into combat mode, the demi-servant girl streamlined herself in the air, slipping the massive shield into alignment against her back where it wouldn't catch the wind as easily and arrowing herself to her Master's falling side.
"Then I will trust myself to your care," Ritsuka swore, wrapping his right arm around her shoulder, command seals glowing faintly in preparation for an emergency.
Mash's left held him close to her side as the pair fell towards the earth, trying to pick a landing spot within their limited control.
"We are approaching a... castle of some sort," Mash observed. "Surrounding terrain appears green, but significant stone outcrops suggests the region to be mountainous."
"That might be problematic," Ritsuka grumbled. "An unsteady landing is just asking for trouble."
"Then the castle?" Mash asked, for clarity more than necessity.
"Yeah," he sighed, "If there's trouble, we'll just have to find a way to deal."
"Yes, Master." Mash agreed.
The dirt of the perfectly maintained lawn gave way underneath the pair, and Mash let out a grunt as she bent her knees to absorb some of the impact.
The act was awkward, both because she'd sunk down past her ankles, and because she had to avoid slamming the thick armored greaves of her ortinax into her master's spine.
Said master was currently held safely in her arms in a princess carry, a short-lived pleasure which had reached its end.
Tearing her feet free of the soil, she smoothly scooped Ritsuka onto his feet behind her, left hand lifting above her as soon as it was free of its burden to snatch the massive shield out of the air as it fell.
It had been a simple solution to it's awkward size to simply toss it up above them for the trip down.
Gripping her weapon by both it's central handle, and the outer ring support, she held it across her body at an angle as she stepped back towards her master, who had retreated to the walkway surrounding what appeared to be a small park.
"Defensive formation established, Master," She declared firmly. "Awaiting further orders."
"Hopefully peaceful contact," the boy said quietly, before raising his voice, and a hand in greeting.
"Hi there," He called cheerily. "Sorry to drop in unexpectedly like this, but if anyone would be so kind as to point us towards the exit, we'll be out of your hair in as calm a manner as possible."
The scattered group, most of which were clad in either some form of uniform, or the kind of heavy plate armor that even Mori would call excessive, stared at him like... well, like he'd fallen from the sky.
No one seemed actively angry though, so none of these were likely to have to fix the hole they'd left, nor the torn up slice from where Mash's shield had cut the turf as she maneuvered it into position.
"Ah, the exit it that way," A voice called out, "turn right at the hedgerows and down the cen-"
The voice cut off in a mumble about the time Ritsuka found the speaker; a blonde woman who seemed to have been enjoying the day. Sewing apparently, from the objects she held up, one finger pointing from where the rest gripped her work.
The sudden muteness was apparently because of a pigtailed redhead who was hanging over the back of the bench, trying to silence her...friend?
Apparently so, given how the redhead blanched and dove down again, dragging the blonde backwards over the chair in a move that both looked unpleasant and probably ruined her needlework.
"Thank you!" Ritsuka called back, "We'll just... damnit."
"Invaders!" A voice shouted from above them, barely heard over the angry clattering of what might normally be church bells. "Invaders at the Officer's Academy grounds!"
"For Seiros!" "You dare!?" "For the Lady Rhea!" "Die!"
"Well, there goes that hope," Ritsuka muttered darkly, stepping into Mash's shadow as his Demi-servant kouhai met the charging men in impractically heavy armor with swift strikes from her shield.
Two of the men went down in quick order, an axe haft shattering when Mash's shield pushed forward into the attack, knocking the larger man into his sword wielding brother and sending both sprawling into the grass and doing more damage, for which which some groundskeeper would likely blame the pair of accidental intruders.
While Mash fought against a second swordsman, this one far more cautious than his predecessors, the last, and incidentally the one Ritsuka noted had so rudely told them to die, charged in with a spear from behind, having come from around the corner behind them, rather than across the field as the others had.
The master snatched the haft of the weapon, just behind the business end, pushing down as he stepped into and past the man's space, adding his other hand and yanking up as soon as he was past the obvious line of vison afforded by the slit visor.
The man stumbled as he tried to keep hold of his weapon, but that was turned into a full fall as the haft of the spear was forced downward, past his near blindly groping hands and in line with his legs, snapping the wooden weapon as the armored form fell upon it.
"Shishou would kick your ass," the Master scolded, reaching down to claim two of the pieces; the blade still held by a length as long as his forearm, and an intact piece of stave half again as long, which he brought down hard on the knight's helm, as much an attempt to remove him from the battle as an additional admonishment in light of his teacher's absence.
"Master." Mash grumped, her tone clipped with displeasure and the slightest bit of effort as she caught her opponent's weapon with a surprise backhand with her shield, sending the sword clattering against one of the pillars to their right, taking advantage of the opening with a quick two step bull rush with the base to hurl the man in the opposite direction, returning the prior pair to the dirt as the swordsman joined their struggling pile.
"Sorry, sorry," Ritsuka acknowledged with a wry chuckle. "But it looks like these guys are just... normal people. Honestly it almost feels like a vacation of a fight at this point."
"A vacation, you say?" A voice inquired, smooth as silk, and cold as a winter gravestone. "I expected little when I decided to humor this... call to arms, but now, I find myself interested."
"Hassan?" Ritsuka asked, the start of a smile on his face as he looked to see a white masked face, but certainly not one of the skulls he was so used to.
This one was form fitting, covering forehead to cheekbones, leaving the sort of excited smile he often saw on the wilder Cu's visible, and approaching at a similar speed to those swift lancers, albeit with a sword which gleamed silver in the light.
"Not Hassan!" the master yelped, leaping backward and hurling the weapon in his right hand at the other's face.
The makeshift club split into three pieces with such sudden motion that Ritsuka couldn't even see the blade traverse the man's body, nor its return stroke.
"Don't disappoint me, Trespasser," the man taunted. "Show me all that you are!"
A wall of steel interspersed itself between the charging man and Ritsuka as Mash moved to intercept, though the man barely seemed to notice, shifting aside with the grace of a serpent as the three entered into an odd dance, with the two males orbiting the Shielder.
Mash kept pace with the agile swordsman, twisting and turning her massive shield to smack away at the man's weapon, though he proved far more capable than the earlier soldiers, his attacks flowing out of each parry to dart back in with serpentine speed, forcing Mash to spin her shield along its central grip as the blade sought her flesh through it's outer ring.
As the man fell into a rhythm of attacks, his eyes shifted from disdainful towards the defender and grew interested in her as well.
To his jaded eyes, the pair were fully synchronized, the boy stepping in time with the girl, shifting close enough to rest a hand on her shoulder or back in mute communication, avoiding avenues of approach and maintaining a view of the battlefield as a whole, while his protector focused almost the entirety of her attention on the threat directly before her.
"Crowd's gathering," the masked man heard the boy almost whisper, hand touching the girl's elbow as it moved past his face in the activity of battle. "We're leaving."
"Yes, Master," The girl declared boldly, reversing her retreating motion and stabbing towards the masked man with the lower arm of her vaguely cross shaped shield.
He skipped back a step, primed to dart in when the attack over extended, but the oversized weapon barely approached him, slamming into the stone of the walkway with a resounding smash.
"Amalgam Goad!" The girl's voice rang out the alien phrase, glaring expression set with determination.
Jeritza blinked as he realized the words to be some form of spell, he could not focus his sight beyond the Shield bearer, who had ripped her weapon up from the ground sending chips of stones and full rocks from the walkway splashing towards him as she shield lifted over her head gathering momentum as it fell beyond her into an underhand thrust.
His sword darted towards the girl's open back, stepping in to take the obvious opening, knowing the girl could neither dodge nor counter with her unbalanced position, and that the boy's makeshift dagger would be even more useless if he did try to take advantage.
When the shield reached its apex, above the girl and parallel with the ground, Ritsuka was revealed, stance set wide, smile grim, and hand extended at arm's length, two fingers pointing.
The oddly threatening pose was unnoticed by the swordsman, thanks to the taunting skill.
"Gandr."
The word was a curse, in the most literal sense, and the orb of red-black energy that flew over Mash's shoulder in the brief moment of opening went unnoticed until nearly the last instant, his silvery sword reversing from attack to defense in less than a blink.
The blade clipped the orb, enough that had it been an attack from a physical projectile it would have been deflected, but instead a mere portion of the Gandr's power was bled off, sinking into the weapon as the rest continued, impacting the man's chest and seizing his lungs with icy claws of sickness.
And then, the breath he couldn't take past the ache in his bones was blasted out of him as the girl's rotation completed, the top of her shield slamming into his unguarded diaphragm and launching him near vertically off the ground.
A second blow in almost the same spot folded the swordsman in half, forcing his eyes down to see how the girl had followed her assault, quite literally, by hammering the shield into the earth once more and physically throwing herself up the length of it, planting the heavy greave of her right leg in his gut from a handstand, supporting herself on the wide edge of the shield beneath her.
The hands danced as she once more gained momentum in a spin, and with a wordless shout he was airborne once again, launched far beyond the earlier damage to the greenery to carve his own groove in the lawn.
Though he could not witness it, Mash landed lightly on her left foot reclaiming her shield and setting her stance anew in defense of her partner.
"Ready to disengage at your command, Master," She stated firmly.
"Knights of Seiros," A bold voice shouted. "Attend!"
The pair watched as the heavy armored soldiers, many of which had been shifting nervously stiffened, weapons going steady and shields no longer wavering.
"Secure the perimeter!" The voice ordered, expecting, and receiving, instant obedience.
Steel rattled as the soldiers shifted, becoming a wall of defense at the far end of the small park, and behind them, a quick glance proved, blocking off the recessed entrance to the large building, as well as the path the swordsman had emerged from in his ill fated attack.
"Damnit," Ritsuka cursed, trying to choose a course, directly to their rear was a drop, probably not an escape route, or at least not one the soldiers would trust, given they weren't bothering to block that too.
"Archers!" the voice sounded out once more, and in a move that could only have been drilled, almost half the soldiers stepped forward, dropping into a crouch, shield primed and spear raised to defend.
Behind these soldiers, much more lightly armored archers stepped into place, each one nocking arrow to string and drawing a bead on the pair.
"Master?" Mash queried, sending him a swift look, drawing even closer and lifting her shield horizontally to better guard them.
"I'll drop a fragment in the swear jar when we get home," Ritsuka promised with forced humor. "Thinking, now."
His eyes roved everywhere, the soldiers before and behind, archers were only with the former, for some reason, but he could see a couple people in white robes watching from behind the ones guarding the doorway.
To their left were the benches backed by a solid wall, and to their right... a dark haired youth holding the sword which had been disarmed earlier, their eyes met, and the guy sent a fencers salute paired with a mocking smile.
"New plan, left door. On my sign, rush it. I'll deal with that guy," Ritsuka decided, though his voice was so low as to be barely audible, he quickly continued over her predictable objection. "Avoid engagement, take out the back wall, all force authorized."
Mash sucked in a breath at the orders, but closed her eyes and released it as her resolve steadied.
There was a dense shifting sound within the shield, and the Demi-servant's words were a solemn oath.
"Bunker bolt loaded, Master. At your order, I shall clear our path."
Left unsaid was the worry of what might happen if the damage was too great for the building to stand.
"I'll be right be-"
"Invaders of Garreg Mach!" the voice came once more, though this time it was accompanied by a face, as a green haired man stepped into the position of a knight who gave way for him.
"I know not your identities, nor am I inclined to care," he said sternly. "You have brought violence upon this monastery, and thus it is my duty to see it revisited upon you."
The man let the promise of conflict rest for a beat, tension filling the atmosphere.
A long moment passed, punctuated by the sound of shifting steel and creaking wood as the soldiers around the green haired man readied themselves, his arm making obvious the signal which would start the engagement.
Ritsuka took and released a breath, adjusting his grip on the makeshift dagger.
"Mash," he began, ignoring the armored knights movement around him and focusing on his intent to fight an obviously confident swordsman, even in so small a way as to force his way past.
Thankfully, from what he'd seen, the people here were only human, not monsters in disguise, or faeries, or any of the more exotic beasts he'd encountered over his years fighting to complete the Grand Order.
"Dear Seteth, as ever, your earnest protection of our home is appreciated," a woman's voice said from behind the Master, her voice carrying the impression of one more amused than dismayed. "In this moment, I feel it a bit... overeager. We would not wish to incite our young visitors into abandoning the care with which they have defended themselves, in favor of a more reckless course."
Ritsuka turned as soon as the woman made her presence known, thus able to watch her come around the corner of the large building, where the guards who had been presumably intended to prevent entry were stepping aside with unsure movements, as if wishing to prevent this woman from entering the fray, but afraid to bar her path.
He could understand why.
Between her height and aura of command, it felt like being faced with the Lion King once more, albeit one who was perhaps a touch less distant from the world, if the small smile was anything to go by.
Beyond that, her outfit announced her importance for all to see, from the elaborate headdress atop her pale green hair, to the cloak of gold and indigo and immaculate white dress the woman wore, it was obvious that only the best this land could offer was sufficient.
Habbycat would be drooling to get her hands on some, even the scraps, for her eternal ambition.
"I trust my appearance meets with your approval?" the woman asked, her green eyes alight with humor, the same shade as her hair Ritsuka noted, wondering if that was normal in this place or if it held some significance.
"Ah, sorry, I..." the boy began with a start, bringing his hand to his chest, only to realize it was still engaged with the weapon of last resort he'd been planning to put to use momentarily.
A quick flick of the arm and the makeshift dagger was embedded in the ground between himself and the waiting swordsman... it'd be easier to grab that way if they still had to make a break for it.
Mash stepped into him, backs flush against one another as she repositioned herself and her shield to catch the series of thudding impacts, arrows bouncing off or shattering on impact with the noble phantasm she bore so proudly.
"No more of that please," the woman snapped sternly, no longer sounding quite so indulgent towards the situation. "I wish to speak with this young couple, and such hostility would only frustrate our efforts to settle what I suspect is a truly unfortunate situation."
"Lady Rhea," the leader from earlier from early spoke out once more, the grim looking man with dark green hair pushing past the foremost soldiers at the far end of the grass and striding forward with aggressive posture. "Though it may not be my place to question you, I feel compelled to point out that this pair have proven a substantial threat, to say nothing of their having somehow managed to not only infiltrate the territory, but this very monastery itself."
"I fear you may put too much faith whatever enemies we might have, to think that they would send but a single mage and defender to assault our most protected of sanctums, but their appearance is not so great a mystery," the now named Rhea replied smoothly, her smile once more present and shifting between the younger pair; Ritsuka, watching her but keeping Seteth in his peripheral, and Mash, who shifted to keep the known threats in view.
"I witnessed their arrival myself, from the terrace, where I had been meditating on the glory of the Goddess," she admitted. "In my concern for their safety, I must confess I came down with more haste than decorum might otherwise permit, but the height from which they must have fallen was worrisome indeed. Truthfully, I had little expectation that even my own gift of faith would be sufficient to do more than ease their suffering in the final moments."
Though her expression hadn't changed, as she gazed at them, Rhea started to seem... troubled, though given her words, it was easy to guess why.
"You have my gratitude for even wanting to help us," the boy said solemnly, bringing his hand back to his chest and bowing in the European style, hoping the comparison to the Lion King would hold in regard to expected manners.
"I am Ritsuka Fujimaru, and this is Mash Kyrielight," the girl looked back, offering a bright smile and nod to the ornately dressed older woman, though her defensive position did not shift beyond that. "You have my sincerest apologies for whatever trouble we've caused."
The woman smiled wider, and offered the slightest tip of her head in return.
"I am Archbishop Rhea, leader of the Church of Seiros, of which this monastery is its central sanctuary. Though being neutral territory, it also serves as an academy for the three nations in this region," her explanation made both Chaldeans wince, they could hardly have picked a more volatile location to crash land at.
"And this," she added after a pause, lifting one hand from where they had rested clasped together at her waist to gesture gracefully towards the scowling man, "is my assistant, Seteth. Though he may be a harsh man at times, it should be known that it comes from a place of dedication. A tragedy in this place could throw the entirety of Fodlan into turmoil for generations to come."
Seteth nodded once, sharply, but tellingly he did not object to either the description or the potential results.
Ritsuka matched stares with the frowning man for a moment before lowering his head once more in a solemn bow.
"I apologize to you as well, for the chaos we've caused your home," the boy glanced around at the surrounding crowd involuntarily before grimacing. "As well as whatever comes from the fallout of this mess."
The serious man released a snort, though in amusement or annoyance was anyone's guess.
"With that said, I trust we might set this predicament behind us, and begin anew," Rhea requested, and though her voice held sweet sincerity, the Master doubted there was any real question in it for her assistant.
"With great trepidation, my Lady," the man responded in a low growl. "Though it is easy to see the course you've set, I trust you shall not object to the wisdom of surveillance. "
"I am wise enough to accept that any objection I might make would be circumvented in some well intentioned manner," the woman replied with renewed humor. "But I am pleased to have even such hesitant support from you, dear friend."
As the Archbishop stepped past the Chaldean pair to stand between them and the bulk of defenders organized by Seteth, the two shared a puzzled look.
"Soldiers, students, and citizens of Garreg Mach," Rhea declared spreading her hands in a graceful gesture. "Though their appearance was fraught with calamity, and our hospitality less than civil, I hereby welcome these two into our home, and implore you to show them both the grace of the Goddess. So long as they remain within the walls of our fair monastery, they are here at my behest, and are to be treated as honored guests."
The rattle of steel and jumbled shouts answered the order as all present accepted their leader's command, albeit not without some range of discontent.
"Ah, Senpai," Mash asked quietly, tucking her bangs behind her ear as the time for battle passed. "What does she mean? Aren't we... leaving?"
She hesitated as she noticed the grumpy green haired man staring at her.
"Apparently not," Ritsuka denied, donning the kind of grin more easily found on Nobbu before a prank. "We've just been arrested, but at least it was polite this time."
Seteth blew out another mysterious snort, as he gestured the pair towards the doorway Rhea had appeared through.
The group walked through the dense stone walls of the monastery.
At first they had been ushered into the hallway through the group of soldiers, which had made way with military precision, the men and women glaring at them through the slit helms, though making no aggressive actions beyond that.
Aside from closing ranks once the Archbishop had entered behind them, but that was only expected.
The hall was empty, save a lone guard with even heavier armor and a tower shield almost as large as himself posted at the far side of the hallway, standing before a door identical to the one they'd entered, and making his best impression of a wall.
It was no Lord Camelot, but then what was these days?
Rhea drifted past them with placid grace, gesturing the Chaldeans to follow, while Seteth took up the rear, himself motioning to a pair of guards who followed behind, though these trailed by far enough to allow the illusion of privacy among the group.
"So, not taking us to the dungeon?" Ritsuka asked, when they moved past their third set of downward stairs rather than continue descending.
It marked the first optional path they saw that lacked one of the mobile wall guys, but he didn't discount the possibility that there might be one at the bottom, though he didn't envy someone so encumbered having to make their way through the narrow staircases.
"Not for guests, certainly," the Archbishop replied simply. "Though I won't insult your intelligence by claiming we have no such facilities, they have seen very little use in recent years. I believe they were repurposed into more benign utility when the officers academy was established some two hundred years ago."
"Most are storage," Seteth elaborated, the gruffness from earlier faded to a bland administrative tone. "Many without even door or bars remaining, the iron likely reclaimed for more pressing purposes, though it would have been before my time. Two remain functional, however, as Lady Rhea says, they rarely see habitation. Garreg Mach has little in the way of civil unrest."
"Beyond that which would be expected of youths," added Rhea. "Though those incidents are more for their professors, and the house leaders, to regulate."
"I see," Mash murmured speculatively. "Then if this truly is a school..."
"Probably not like the ones I attended," Ritsuka said, glancing at his partner. "If it's for training military officers, I'd expect it to be something like a trade school, more learning by doing than the kind of general studies school I went to."
"Ah," the pinkette deflated.
Ritsuka chuckled a bit and bumped shoulders with her. "It's still on the list right? We'll get there eventually,"
He noticed the strange looks from the older pair and explained.
"Mash didn't really get to attend a... well, normal school for various reasons, and they're a bit unique where I grew up, so we've been looking forward to visiting one when we get the chance."
"I see," Rhea replied thoughtfully, though her expression seemed to disagree.
"On the subject of where you grew up, though I note the implication that you did so in significantly separate areas, I feel it is my duty to ask," Rhea continued after a moment. "Is the Goddess known in your homelands?"
Rhea watched from the corner of her eye as almost a minute passed during which Mash glanced repeatedly at her 'Master', and the boy's expression silently shifted in subtle ways most wouldn't have likely noticed beyond a mask of consideration.
"I suppose that depends on which one you're talking about," Ritsuka finally decided to admit. "My homeland recognizes quite a few divine beings, and since joining Chaldea... Well, I've met more than that over the last couple years."
The Archbishop looked more fully at the boy as he spoke what most would call heresy, meeting the boy's eyes and peripherally noting both Seteth's returning scowl and the pink haired girl's solemn nodding.
"It is possible that your Goddess is one of them, but without more information, it'd be hard to say," Ritsuka continued.
"The Goddess' name is sacred, and thus not one to be spoken without consideration," Seteth replied firmly. "Lest we draw her attention unduly and interrupt her rest."
"Her name would probably be useless anyway," Ritsuka countered. "Most of the deities we know have quite a few, Astraea alone has... I think seven?"
"Astraea, Greek Goddess of judgment and inevitable fate," Mash recounted with the air of a star student. "Also known as Adrestia, though some records suggest she was also known as Nemesis, or Cybele. You may be remembering the different accepted spellings of her name, Senpai, there are quite a few."
"Thank you, my more knowledgeable Kouhai," Ritsuka chuckled at the irony, not noting the way both of their guide's expressions had frozen, a shared glance between the green haired people at the a name.
"Your people, worship a being called Nemesis?" Rhea asked, her tone odd as she tried to maintain a lightness she no longer fully felt.
"Nah," Ritsuka waved it away casually. "She's a goddess from a couple thousand years ago. She helps us out these days, but as far as I know no one still worships her, or any of our other allies... well aside from D'eon."
"Senpai, you shouldn't tease Muniere," Mash scolded.
"If the name has some significance to your own religion, your people," Mash added in a reassuring tone of voice, "then it is probably a coincidence. Your own name is shared by one from the same region, the Goddess Rhea was mother to the most powerful of the Olympian gods."
"I wonder how that worked in the one we visited?" Ritsuka mused, "Kronos' computer AI maybe?"
Rhea ignored the quiet and incomprehensible muttering from the boy and considered. While it was possible the ancient enemy of her Goddess had managed to flee Fodlan, the idea that they would choose to deify what had been little more than an effective pawn in their plans was unlikely.
Though she could almost imagine them doing so and depicting him as a woman just to spite the prideful parasite.
The archbishop was actually somewhat relieved to reach the room which seemed to have taken far too long to walk to given the uncomfortable turn in the conversation.
Rhea stopped before one door among many in the walkway, opening it without more than a moment's hesitation and revealing a simple quarters.
The room was rather deep beneath the monastery, and thus held no windows, though there were a pair of sturdy beds to either side, the door opening between them. Between each bed and the door side wall was a chest of drawers for the occupants.
In the center of the far wall sat a desk, simple but equally well crafted as the beds, with the right-side length of wall taken up by a pair of book shelves, a bit over half filled with leatherbound tomes, with miscellaneous baubles taking up another quarter of the space.
To the left though, stood a small altar, which Ritsuka approached curiously.
The altar was simple, merely a triangular shelf fit into the corner of the room, with a small incense bowl inlaid before a wooden statue carved into the shape of a woman.
She was stood with her head bowed, hooded shawl draped over her head and down her back over a dress which had been detailed roughly by the carver. Held in her hands was a long staff with wings branching on either side just above where the woman's face would be, had the creator included such detail.
"Is this your goddess?" Ritsuka asked from his position crouched in front of the figure, hands clasped behind his back as he did so, to avoid touching it in what he expected might be some form of taboo.
"No, that is the figure of Saint Cethleann," Seteth answered from the doorway, a note of pride in his voice making the boy wonder if the authoritative man had a hand in the wood carved figure's creation. "One of the four saints who served our goddess, alongside the saints Indech, Macuil, and her father Cichol."
"She was beloved in her time, both by the goddess and her people," Rhea added, stepping beside Ritsuka and running an affectionate hand along the carving's head. "The records speak fondly of her empathy, and her gift in the healing arts."
The archbishop gazed silently at the statue for a long moment before continuing.
"There are no statues depicting the goddess," she admitted, sorrow heavy in her voice. "Nor are there any paintings, murals, even physical descriptions are vague in those few tomes which attempt to do so. Her face... Her face is lost. Even to the longest memory, of her most faithful followers."
"I... see," Ritsuka murmured thoughtfully.
"Do you?" Seteth scoffed. "Have you not already told us of the many goddesses with whom you are acquainted?"
"Well, yeah," Ritsuka agreed, "but to be fair, most of them aren't true incarnations, but what we call Demi-servants. Humans possessed by the power and mind of a deity, albeit at a reduced capacity."
"For the record," Mash added, looking up from the book she'd claimed off the shelf, her shield propped againt the wall near her and a pair of glasses she hadn't worn earlier on her face, "I am a Demi-servant, though not to a deity. And while it's true the gods and goddesses who ally with us are similar to myself, we have met some who held their own forms in the past."
"And they all tried to kill us," Ritsuka griped, "but what else is new? At least you got to shield punch Zeus in the face. A triumph for female liberation! ...Felt legitimately bad for Demeter though, she didn't deserve what that bastard made her do."
The archbishop and her assistant seemed aghast at the explanation, though Rhea's wide eyes held something more as she continued staring at the armored girl who casually claimed to be... not entirely human.
"Zeus was notoriously known as a womanizer," Mash explained, the book in her hands rising to half hide her face and the blush newly adorning it. "He was also one of the ones we mentioned earlier, in connection to the Goddess Rhea..."
"I... believe your words have given me much to consider," Rhea breathed quietly, turning away from the small altar and towards the door with an odd expression. "This room is for your use, for however long you stay with us. I... I hope you will remain for some time, so that we might speak further on these strange circumstances."
Seteth watched the woman walk past him in a mood he could almost swear he'd never seen before on her, the strangeness of it forcing him to reclaim his own control.
"Guards will remain at the door," he said sternly. "Though you may be recognized as guests by the Archbishop, I still believe you to be a threat to our people. Until further notice, you are to remain in this room, comply, and..."
The man sighed heavily, and continued in a less abrasive tone. "Prove you are not a danger to our students, and we shall all find ourselves more pleasantly acquainted. I hope I am understood."
Without a further word, Seteth turned and strode through the door, one of the guards posted on either side in the hallway shutting it quietly behind him.
"Well, no one actually died this time, so that was fun," Ritsuka declared brightly. "And we have books! This is the best start we've had in a while."
Mash shook her head in exasperation and dropped a random text in her senpai's waiting hands as he settled on one bed and left her the single chair, which he'd pulled out and angled her way.
It wouldn't do to damage her place of sleep with the Ortinax, or things could end up much more awkward than they already were.
Seteth almost had to run to catch up with Rhea, and by the time he did she was ascending back the stairs back to the first floor of the cleric's dormitories, these mostly single occupancy rooms for the higher ranks of clergy and the few knights of sufficient authority who forewent residence above ground, or in the nearby town.
The woman continued her pace, dignity almost cast aside save for the long years of habit which made even these swift motions flow with inherent elegance.
Rather than interrupt the woman, Seteth followed a step behind, expression sternly set and releasing the soldiers from their readied defensive action with stiff gestures as they passed.
The archbishop's pace held tirelessly up flights of stairs and through long halls blind to both bows and greetings until she reached her office where upon entry she turned and almost struck Seteth in her attempt to close the large doors herself.
Thankfully, they were each far larger than a man, and the assistant was able to sidestep the first, as Rhea flinched in surprise at seeing him so close behind her.
Seteth set his jaw and took the second door, sealing them in the room and allowing his expression to carry the command that they not be disturbed.
"I believe," Seteth began, his tone firm and clipped. "That I am owed some form of explanation for this... absurd series of events."
He watched as his superior strode to the pair of couches not far from the door and collapsed into one, slumping in a way that made the man's eyebrows raise as he stood behind her.
"I... I felt her," Rhea replied after a silence which stretched long enough that he almost thought he'd been ignored. "I felt her... but she's not there."
"Her?" Seteth queried as he paced over to stand across from her, though he was almost certain he knew the answer already.
"Mother!" The archbishop snapped, anger flaring in her voice, and her hands twisting around, fingers tightening so much against each other that even her pale hands had whitened noticeably. "I was so close, inches away and I could not sense her essence from either child!"
Seteth chuckled, earning a savage glare from the seated woman.
"I feel that were either child truly our dear Sothis reborn in such a way, there'd be a rather blatant clue," he clarified, idly twisting a lock of his his shoulder length hair.
"Unless," he mused thinking back on the conversation they'd so recently ended. "You can't truly believe that demi-servant nonsense."
Rhea's eyes widened and darted away, looking first left, though not so far as to see the door, before locking onto the hands in her lap.
"Is it truly so absurd, dear Seteth?" Rhea asked, her voice almost a whisper, her eyes closed to him. "It has... It has been done before."
"What do you mean?" Snapped Seteth
"In the time since..." Rhea began, rising to her feet and seeming to reconsider her words. "I have been alone, for many long years, my friend, and have had to fill that time in ways which my younger self might, would, have found distasteful."
She walked with stiff calm to her desk and the large heavy chair behind it.
Taking a seat she retrieved a key which had been secreted upon her person which even Seteth did not recognize as he stood across the desk, arms clasped behind his back formally.
Unlocking and opening one of the deep lower drawers, Rhea retrieved a nameless tome and set it upon the desk, rotating it and pushing it gently towards the man as she retrieved more from storage.
Taking the obvious invitation, Seteth opened the leather bound book and turned the pages carefully, though it strained his self control to do so.
"This script is Agarthan," he nearly snarled. "I thought all records of those beasts had been expunged after what they tried, much less what they succeeded in doing!"
Rhea sighed as she set the second such book in place, lining them on her side in careful order. "I did say it was distasteful, though translating the texts Macuil insisted on preserving has proven... educational, if nothing else."
Seteth stared at her with an expression she couldn't place, but it was understandable to her of all people.
She had been part of the effort which destroyed those terrible people after all.
The third book came up as Seteth found and skimmed the summary penned in her own hand of the few pages preceding it, a lengthy preamble for some research minded mage who considered all his contemporaries incompetent and himself the sole true successor to some other such figure she cared little to remember.
From the twitch at the corner of Seteth's frowning mouth, she must have said as much in her note.
"The effort is slow," Rhea admitted, flipping pages in the book before her. "Both due to my occupation with the church, and my general disinterest in the subject matter... Though it is something to do with my excess time."
"I could name a hundred less heretical texts, if you need recommendations," Seteth grumbled, returning the translation to it's place and closing the book
"And I probably authored more than half of those," Rhea chuckled wryly. "Under one of the many names I've held in the intervening years. Though I mourn the cause, I do believe your time away from the wider world may have been a blessing in some sense."
It was Seteth's turn to close his eyes and look away, releasing a heavy sigh.
Rhea found what she was looking for and turned the book she held around, placing it atop the other so that her companion could inspect it.
The section was dense with theories and speculation so obscure the Archbishop could barely understand it at the time, though she had been able to piece together enough eventually... or so she had thought.
"This goes beyond heresy," Seteth spoke eventually, having read page after page of translation. "It is blasphemy, in its purest sense. Necromancy in all but name, a violation of our Goddess, of Sothis', explicit commands. Were they not already dust, the very existence of this... this offal, would earn it's author the severest judgement imaginable."
Rhea was thankful her companion's wrathful eyes remained locked on the words, such that they did not witness the bitter anguish in her own.
"Be that as it may," Rhea spoke carefully. "This text proves that on some level, such a thing as a demi-agarthan is possible, transferring some, if not all of their mind wholly into a new body, displacing its original possessor."
"And that itself is enough to trouble my sleep for years to come, though your notes claim it to be through their own, likely bastardized, version of a crest stone... I can see the temptation," Seteth sighed and rubbed his face roughly with a hand. "The children do not seem tainted by the magics of necromancy, at the very least."
"On that we agree entirely. Though I would seek to learn more," Rhea capitulated, moving to return the books to their hidden home. "If it is not a forbidden art, it would please me greatly, and be a boon upon the world to see our great Goddess walk among us once again."
The blasphemous third book, truly only one of the countless Rhea had used over the last few hundred years, but held close at hand for the experiments which had only ended scant decades ago, was lifted off the desk by Seteth instead, a look of disgust upon his face.
"I will not begrudge the pursuit of knowledge, however distasteful I might find the source, Lady Rhea," he began, returning to proper formality as this strange meeting moved towards its obvious end. "But this... this travesty must be disposed of, lest those of less devout nature than yourself find themselves tempted to put it to practice."
Rhea stared at the book for a long moment, a complicated look borne upon her face, but she nodded in the end.
"Yes, consign it to the flames if you so wish," She commanded. "Truly, that one was not worth the effort I put into rendering that Agarthan hen scratch legible."
After all, the methods it offered produced nothing save empty hope and filled caskets in the end.
And heartbreak, but she could not dwell on that.
Seteth nodded, already at the door with his disgraceful prize, though he paused after opening it to offer a polite bow and "Lady Rhea," in parting.
As was proper.
Rhea stared down at the empty desk before her and wondered why she felt like a scolded child, when she was ostensibly the eldest of Mother's children.
The moon shone bright upon him as the man exited the large doors into the courtyard where the strange battle had been fought.
His fingers spasmed reflexively at the memory, twitching towards a weapon that had been left safely hidden away.
The rebellious limb was forced into compliance, the urge and the impulse behind it bound into compliance by the slim measure of caution that maintained his survival.
Mist and whispers, a taste on the tongue, a forgotten scent, a familiar desire forestalled by wavering will.
"No, this is not the place, nor the time." Jeritza muttered, though he need not have bothered, for the words were not for one with ears to hear them.
Though they did not go unnoticed.
"If your actions this afternoon were the limit of your talents, then it would seem that Her Highness has chosen a poor enforcer indeed," a voice dripping in dark malice spoke from the shadows of the nearby wall.
"Hubert," Jeritza responded, his voice empty of emotion, as it often was. "Such imprudence could be the undoing of a great many plans."
The heir to the empire's most loyal vassal scoffed quietly. "It would be so, were the soldiers no so singularly focused on the lower levels. You were not the only one so thoroughly embarrassed by the Archbishop's newest... guests."
Hubert's eyes swept the sky with a small frown as if he found its emptiness disappointing.
"One must by necessity wonder as to their origins," he admitted curiously. "Since it seems apparent that they were not sent by some artifice of our erstwhile allies. Treacherous though they may be, they would not waste so potent distraction by allowing the night to pass unaccosted."
"It would seem you are, as ever, considering dark plots," Jeritza spoke calmly, closing his eyes and exhaling slowly as he opened them to stare at the pale boy. "I find it intriguing, in a manner which I do not particularly enjoy."
"Then I shall employ the utmost caution when next I am in your class, oh Professor," Hubert replied with more than a touch of derision in his voice, his eyes drifting towards the door Jeritza had exited. "Unlike myself, your dispatches are what some might consider... refreshingly straight-forward."
Hubert chuckled as the older man stared blankly at him, still as the grave save for his breaths and blinking eyes, as often was the case.
"It is almost a shame," Hubert continued, "to see such an opportunity wasted, but with Lady Edelgard's absence, I dare not risk complicating her plans by acting out of turn in this tempting moment. Though if their appearance managed to cause such calamity, it stands to reason a sudden demise could offer similar freedom, should steps be taken to direct suspicion appropriately."
Sickening energy ignited in Hubert's palm the instant after his back met the stone of the wall, his grunt of pain muffled by the Jeritza's left arm as it crushed his throat like an iron bar.
He released a hiss as some length of steel, little, he was sure, by the fact his guts weren't spilling forth from him, sank into the flesh above his right kidney.
"They are not for you to kill," the voice was Jeritza's, the tenor, very much not.
The eyes inches away from Hubert's were cold chips of ice, empty of all but the most vague sense of recognition, the barest acknowledgement that the one before him lay low on his list of acceptable targets, but whos presence on the list was alone enough to justify death.
"You would betray Her Highness," Hubert ground out, a glimpse down was enough to confirm his situation as a poor one.
Jeritza's left arm had him pinned, while his right was similarly crossed over his body, the dagger he wore held pointing downward in his fist, and in a position which could open his bowels in a single motion.
Even forcing the man away could leave him bleeding and septic, though he kept the Miasma spell steady in his hand.
"I betray none, save my own desire in this moment, yet I permit you to speak for it serves me equally well," the voice returned. "The two who appeared, their names?"
Hubert considered lying, claiming not to know, but suspected his own reputation would hinder the effort, and the question was one of little value regardless, though the various butchered pronunciations had been somewhat amusing.
"The boy is called Ritsuka Fujimaru, the girl Mash Kyrielight," he answered instead, grunting again as the blade in his side was withdrawn, though not so carelessly as to worsen the shallow wound.
"Strange names... appropriate," the deadly voice intoned, a quiet chuckle underneath the words, "I claim their lives, ensure your lady accounts for that as she lays her plans. Use their deaths as you will, so long as no hand save mine is offered them."
"Lady Edelgard will be informed," Hubert swore, glaring at the man who still held him against the wall. "Of all which has occurred this day."
"I would expect no less, Hubert von Vestra," the man replied, drawing back and sheathing the dagger without bothering to wipe it clean.
He paused as he turned to leave, speaking once more without looking back.
"Assure the Lady that my gratitude remains," he said, and Hubert could hear more than the dead voice which had been speaking within it. "However, I cannot ignore the two who defeated me so easily this day."
Jeritza strode away at that, and though the student may have objected, he could not truly say as he moved almost blindly towards his home, it was late, and his day had been wasted in the office of that- of Manuela.
The strange magical sickness had faded as quickly as it came on, and the bruises were little worse, and far less than he'd deserved for being defeated in such a manner.
His eyes drifted towards the sky and the bright moon above.
There was plenty of light, he could train.
A/N
Exposition heavy chapter is heavy, but there had to be some explanation as to why the Chaldeans would be tolerated, given the various factions and somewhat extreme responses to differences that exist in Fodlan, to a frankly xenophobic degree.
I will say that in regards to Rhea in game, I expect she did somehow sense Sothis' power in the world, given how little surprise she showed when Jeralt and Byleth showed up out of nowhere after almost twenty years of absence, and the instant acceptance and blatant favoritism that led to.
Can't think of much else worth saying, but feel free to tell me what you think.