Warning: Spoilers for Rhea
Chapter Two
Find Her
Archbishop Rhea sat alone in her solar, watching the flames from the candles slowly die out. Two had already extinguished in the iron chandelier above her, but she did not care to relight them. She was waiting. For how long she had waited, she had forgotten. Centuries, in truth, for what was but a dream. A miracle, some would call it. Yet even after all this time, she still believed it possible. Still believed her truest desire could become reality, when the moment was right. Mother will return to me, the child just needs time...
"Rhea?" a man's voice called from the entrance, too loud in the otherwise silence. "Is everything alright?"
She ignored his trivial question. "Sit with me, brother," said Rhea, still observing the melted wax seeping into the grooves of the oaken table. Another one out. Seteth slammed the door shut and strode toward her, a frown plaguing his features. She knew the reason he wore it.
"Do not call me that. Not here, not ever," Seteth all but growled, taking the seat to her right. His eyes wandered to the hearth, the flames of it long since snuffed out. Like the candles, she thought, and Mother, and my kin. One by one, they all left me. Yet here she still was. Alive. One day I too shall join them. Perhaps it would not be so bad to leave this life behind... but her business on this earth was unfinished.
"Has she returned?" Rhea looked to her brother, idly tracing the rim of her untouched goblet with her finger. For a moment confusion clouded him, and she watched as his mind put the pieces together.
"No, the professor has not. Nor have her students. I imagine it will not be long until they do." Seteth straightened in his seat, cracking the stiffness from his neck. He looked tired- as tired as she felt. "Why do you sit in the cold?"
Rhea followed his gaze to the hearth, noting the tiny ember still ablaze amongst the ashes. A single star in a sky of grey. One is all that is needed to guide the way. To ignite the flame. She must prevail as it had, for Mother's sake. "There is no warmth left in this world. Not anymore. All that remains is bitter cold." She lifted the bronze goblet to her lips, hoping the thick wine would help soothe her. Instead, it left her with a lingering sourness. She set it aside with a scowl.
"I miss Mother, too," he said at once, sighing. His answer surprised her; Seteth had always been secretive of their past, not even speaking of it with her in moments alone. It was for their own safety that they had concealed their true identities- for Flayn's sake, most of all. There were wicked men hidden beneath the earth who sought to end what their ancestors began. Seteth continued. "But she is gone, Rhea. We live in her memory- as her last remaining offspring. She lives within us, but not with us. You must accept this." His hand moved to cover her own, but she snatched it away.
The dragon within her thrashed inside its cage, her hands clenching into fists. "You are wrong," she hissed through gritted fangs. How dare he speak such blasphemy. He never loved her as I did, she reminded herself. Still, his words riled her. "Mother will return, Cichol. She is out there as we speak. She just needs time-"
The doors to the solar burst open. "Lady Rhea!" Cyril fell to his knees, panting. Seteth shot to his feet like a coiled spring set loose. "The knights, Lady Rhea. They're back."
"Where?" Her voice rang in the air.
Cyril stood, wiping the sweat from his brow. The poor boy must have ran the whole three flights. "At the gates, Lady Rhea. Probably further in now, though." His grey furs were soaked through, making him look much like a drenched rodent. The thick boots he wore squelched as he moved.
"Professor Byleth is with them?" asked Rhea. She knew it odd to ask only of her wellbeing, but her patience had worn thin. No harm could come of that child, not now. Not when she was so close.
His hesitance numbed her with dread. "I- I dunno, Lady Rhea. I didn't see."
Rhea took a deep breath, taming the dragon threatening its freedom. I control you, she told it. There is not yet cause for alarm. "Thank you, Cyril. You may retire to your room." She rose to her feet, using her palms to flatten the creases in her crisp white gown. "Wait. I have one final request for tonight: send the professor to my audience chamber at once."
Cyril nodded, chest still heaving, then left without another word. That boy had always been good to her; too good, perhaps. Ever since she had saved him from the life of a war orphan, he had grown to see her as a son would his mother. Rhea, however, saw him as no more than a serving boy, and with good reason. Humans lived short lives- getting attached was unwise. She had learned that lesson the hard way many a time. "Come, Seteth. I want you with me."
"Very well, Archbishop." They shared a knowing look; one that was both amused by the roles they had taken, and sorrowful for the need of them. As Rhea left, she noted there were seven candles still aflame. One for each of us who remain.
Seteth guided her down the spiralling stairs, their footsteps echoing off the stone. The wind howled in response, like some beast luring them down the spiral and into its jaws. The howl quietened into a long, low cry as they neared the second floor- a warning, Rhea decided, of something amiss. Fire's warmth caressed her weary face as they passed each torch fixed into alcoves in the walls, the warmth replaced by icy cold until the next torch welcomed her with its own.
The audience chamber was colder and dimmer than her solar had been, but it made no difference to her. Nevertheless, she commanded the lighting of the braziers, if only to ease Seteth's shivering. Rhea climbed the dais and took her seat on her throne of gold, soft moonlight spilling in through the stained-glass window behind her. Her brother took his place at her side, hands folded neatly at his front. His hair shone under the light of the moon, cresting his head in a halo of pale green. How apt, she mused, folding her own hands into her lap. The chamber was silent as they waited, save for the crackle of the braziers. Orange firelight twirled and danced along the stone beams, and shadows shrouded the corners where the light was forbidden. They prowled closer, toying with the light like a cat would a mouse, retreating when the mouse would retaliate with whips of its orange tail.
When the knock sounded on the heavy wood-and-iron doors, Rhea almost sighed in relief. Her back was beginning to ache from the hardness of her throne. If Seteth was in equal discomfort, he did not show it. "Enter," she said clearly. The doors groaned open like a yawning giant, pushed by two knights in matching pristine white armour. They marched in, taking their post at the far wall beside the two knights already stationed. From beyond them entered Cyril, alongside a boy with hair the colour of spun-gold. The heir to the Kingdom's throne.
"I'm sorry, Lady Rhea," said Cyril. "Professor Byleth wasn't with 'em." His voice was breathless.
Rhea forced a small smile. "Thank you, Cyril." Her eyes narrowed at the heir of Blaiddyd's approach, focusing her attention on the sword held flat in his palms. The Sword of the Creator.
"Archbishop." Dimitri bowed low. He was as soaked as Cyril, his dripping hair plastered to his temples, and his boots up to his knees were slathered in thick mud. Rhea did not miss the guilt that flashed across his boyish face. Or perhaps it was fear.
"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, voice frosted. Seteth shifted beside her.
Dimitri laid the Hero's Relic on the fourth step up from his feet, the tip of it dark with flaking blood. He gulped before he spoke. "Forgive me. I could not stop her."
Her blood burned with the fire of the dragon, her handle on it loosening. She cannot be dead. She cannot, she cannot, she cannot... "Where is Professor Byleth, child?"
"I... She..."
Seteth inhaled sharply. "Speak, prince. Or did whatever befell the professor take your tongue as well?"
Dimitri regarded them a moment, a firmness in his expression. The firmness of a king-to-be. "Please, allow me to explain."
And explain he did.
He told them of Kronya's death, of Solon and the professor's disappearance into a fog of darkness. Of her reappearance, and her... changing. "With the Sword of the Creator she tore through the sky itself. I could not believe my eyes... And then as we neared her, I noticed some... differences, so to speak."
Rhea held her breath, head swimming. "Differences?" She kept her tone calculated, indifferent; but her fingers betrayed her, gripping the arms of her throne until her knuckles turned white.
"Yes. Her clothes, her hair- why, it was far longer and brighter than it had been mere moments before. And then there was the matter of her..." He paused, averting his gaze. "Well, her ears, Archbishop."
Her fear turned to hope, to overwhelming joy and to serenity all at once. Then she descended into wild panic. But she did not return... Mother is here and yet she is not here. Rhea cleared her throat and swallowed, dousing the fire within. But the flame of the dragon could never be truly quenched. "Her ears, you say?" Rhea glanced to her right, quirking a brow at Seteth. "How so?"
"It may sound odd, Your Grace, but they were... pointed." Dimitri laughed nervously, as if he could not believe the words he had spoken. They were all the confirmation she needed.
Seteth almost choked, coughing violently into his fist. He excused himself and made for the room nestled beyond the wall rightmost to her in a flurry of navy and black. Rhea flicked her eyes to Cyril, who had lingered near a stone beam. "See that my advisor has water."
"Yes, Lady Rhea." Cyril bowed low and scampered away.
Dimitri observed in silence. At the thud of doors, he cleared his throat. "Shortly after Solon fell, we were attacked by Demonic Beasts," he explained. "The professor must have slipped away while we were distracted."
Rhea felt as if his words were a vice around her heart, tightening until it burst. "You allowed her to escape? Foolish boy." She could no longer hide the venom in her tone.
"In the absence of Professor Byleth I had a duty to protect my house. I had no choice but to aid my classmates in defeating the beasts," Dimitri defended himself. "It was I who gave the order to return, the risk of another attack too great. But know that we searched high and low before that order was made." He paused, giving way for intervention. Rhea stayed silent. "She was frightened, Archbishop. In the dark she could not have gotten far... I'm certain she will return of her own accord."
"And if she does not?"
"Then I will head back out at dawn's first light. I-"
Rhea stood, blood scorching. "No!" Her façade shattered, the dragon free from its iron prison. From the benevolent leader she reverted back into unhinged madness. Into Seiros. "I lost her once before, I cannot lose her again! Will not! Do you understand, boy?" Her voice shook with fury, fingernails digging into her palms.
Dimitri blinked at her, mouth agape. "Once before? What do you-"
"Silence," she hissed. She descended the dais in a swish of silk and retrieved the Sword of the Creator from the step. The bones of her mother. "I am here, Mother," she whispered to it, stroking her fingers along its rough edges, nails scraping off the dried blood. "Come home to me." In the next moment, she aimed the blade for the prince's throat. Her knights took tentative steps from their posts, but backed down once they saw the ferocity in her gaze. Dimitri gaped at her as if she were a stranger. A monster. Wise boy, she mused. You are right to fear me. "You took her from me. If she had not gone with you on that cursed mission, she would still be here. And then you dared to return without her. You will face my wrath."
"Please, Lady-" Dimitri tried to plead, silenced by the blade pressing against his throat. One more word, one movement, and the red river would break from the dam.
"Guards!" she demanded. Her men stood to attention, albeit hesitantly.
"Rhea, what is this madness?" Seteth strode back into the chamber, Cyril on his tail. The boy's amber eyes widened when they met hers.
She ignored him, addressing the knights. "Take this fool of a boy. I do not care where." Two knights exchanged wary glances, but submitted. They clanked over and took the protesting boy by the arms, dragging him back. Seteth reached for her arm, recoiling away when she turned the blade on him. Her laugh was empty. "You cannot stop me."
A wave of emotions washed over his face all at once; betrayal and shock and fear. "Rhea, I beg of you. You cannot hold the heir of Faerghus prisoner! Stop this at once!"
Rhea lowered the sword, knowing he was right. Damn him. Holding a royal heir as prisoner would only spark war. "Release the boy," she commanded. She forced herself to look at him. "You are unharmed?"
"Y-yes, Archbishop."
"Good." She slipped back into composure, as if she had never fallen into madness at all. "You have my apologies, Prince Dimitri. What occurred here was a misunderstanding. It will not happen again. Understood?" He nodded. "Very well. Now, I would like to be alone with my advisor." They did not move. "I said leave us!" she roared. They scurried from the room; first the knights, then Cyril. Dimitri was the last to leave, and he fixed Rhea with a cold stare as the mouth of the giant was closed to swallow him.
Once the echo of the closing doors ceased, Rhea released the anguished scream she had held inside. It was primal and enraged, almost inhuman- but she was not human. I am a Nabatean, a daughter of the Goddess, and this human shell is my prison. Seteth seized her by her sword arm whilst she was vulnerable, wrenching the Sword of the Creator free from her grasp. "Unhand me at once!" she screeched, baring her fangs at him. "Give her back to me!"
"Rhea, you must control yourself." Seteth stared at her with wide eyes, keeping a safe distance away. Was he truly so frightened of her? "Rhea, listen to me!" It was then that she felt the thing that he feared- the burning, pure energy bubbling up her throat. The claws that had ripped out from her small human fingers. "You will hurt yourself," he said, voice cracked with concern.
"I..." Rhea stumbled on her feet, retracting her claws. Pain shot through her hands, and blood dripped onto the coloured marble floor, warm and red. "Brother, I... I did not mean..." she whimpered.
"Shhh..." Seteth discarded the blade to the floor with a clang and pulled her into his embrace, enveloping her within his strong arms. The lingering scent of fish clung to his clothes, masked behind his earthy perfume and a smell that Rhea could only describe as home. It calmed her at once.
"I would not harm you," she murmured into his chest. "I would not."
"It is fine now, I have you." He brushed his fingers through her hair and hummed a song from their childhood, swaying them both gently from side to side. "Do you remember how I would hold you like this when we were young?" he whispered into her hair. She hummed in response. "You have always held a fire within you. A passion, too. How often you would scrap with our brothers. When they tired of you, you would always come to me."
"You were far gentler than they were," she said, craning her neck to look up at him. "With you I could let down my guard. Of course, embraces such as this never came without a reprimand of my behaviour." A smirk curved his thin lips, and she found herself mirroring it.
"Quite right. What was it that Mother would always call us?"
"The Sky and the Earth. 'For you are vast of heart and free, my Sky, and as certain to shift as night and day'," she quoted, hearing her mother's voice instead of her own. "'And you are the ground that keeps us afoot, my Earth- the rock that binds us together. Never do both the Sky and Earth meet, so never shall end your bickering. Alas, I am feeling rather sleepy, so please do be quiet!'" she finished with a laugh.
His eyes crinkled at the edges. "Ah, yes. I recall that last part quite fondly. I am impressed that you remembered it all."
Rhea pulled away. "I remember every day with her, and how few those days were." And how you left us, she neglected to add. "I remember feeling envious of you, for being the Earth."
"Oh? Why is that?"
"You were alike Mother in that way. She too is the Earth. The mother of life."
Seteth chuckled. "Well, I am no mother."
"No, that you are not. You are a father, of a delightful young woman." Rhea removed the headdress from her head, its weight growing too much to bear. She brushed past Seteth and made for the advisor's room. The click of his heels confirmed that he had followed.
"That she is. Without her I would be lost. She is my ground."
"The ground to the ground," Rhea mused as she placed the headdress atop her office desk and sank into her seat. She cast a ball of light and threw it spinning into the air; she had never been fond of darkness, nor what lurked within it. The light thrummed quietly. Seteth sat opposite, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Rhea, I have something to ask of you." He paused, considering his words. "The embrace never comes without reprimand, as you say."
She sighed lightly. Their peace never did last for long. "What troubles you, brother?"
"The professor," he said simply. It was the subject Rhea had expected him to bring up, yet it sent a jolt through her all the same. "How the boy described her appearance. It is true?"
"I do not know, I haven't seen her." Rhea deflected, fearing how much Seteth would have her disclose. He could be very persistent, and she was not sure she was ready to reveal all of her secrets.
Seteth leaned forward, resting his chin between thumb and forefinger. "True enough. You seemed to believe him, however. In fact, I would go as far as to say that you hoped he'd say what he did."
"And what if I did?"
He regarded her a moment, the permanent crease between his brow deeper than usual. "What did you do to the child, Rhea? What is the meaning of how that one looks? Is it to do with Mother?"
Rhea ground her teeth. "You will see in time."
His hand fell to his knee. "I read Jeralt's diary. I happened upon it in his room. I know that he suspected you, but of what I had no idea. Tell me, sister- what did you do to that family?"
"I inserted Mother's Crest into the child," she admitted firmly. His barrage of questions were beginning to irk her. "I saved her."
"You violated her."
"As was her mother's dying wish." Rhea averted her gaze, focusing on the whistling of wind outside, the violent drumming of rain beating against the window. "My daughter's dying wish," she finished carefully, allowing herself a glance in Seteth's direction. The disbelief in his eyes was palpable.
For a while he said nothing. His hands went to his face, dropping an instant later. "Your daughter? I did not know..."
"Yes, that was my intention."
Seteth studied her with a gaze that would pierce through most, his eyes twinkling in the light. "It seems I am forever in the dark. Tell me, Rhea, what else do you hide? How many more have you... experimented with?"
Rhea locked his eyes with her own, unmoving. "I hide them so that you need not carry their burden. I have protected our legacy- Mother's legacy- as best I can. Protected Flayn. You do not need to understand, or even condone my actions. Only live."
His shoulders slumped with a sigh, his surrender clear. "Another deflection, but I tire of arguing. Alas, I am afraid to even consider the truth of you. All I do ask, dear sister, is for you to tell me one thing; what was her name?"
"Alaya." The name felt odd on her tongue, awakening a feeling she had locked away long ago, as if the name were the key to her soul. The rest followed before she could stop herself. "She was not mine by birth. In fact, she was I in all but name. A replica, if you will, conjured with the darkest of magics."
"I have heard of such dark rituals," Seteth interjected with a nod. "But to think that my own sister...?" he trailed off.
Rhea continued. "It was a necessary means. There were many replicas that I created over the centuries, all with the aim to resurrect Mother. Most died or did not live at all. Alaya was the sole survivor. As a result, I grew protective. I kept her hidden, dyed her hair with ashes of saffron to hide our connection and allowed her strict visits to the cathedral, believing it would awaken the power within her. Awaken Mother. Instead, she met Jeralt.
"When she fell in love with the late captain, I thought nothing of it. The idea their love could bloom a child did not occur to me, nor the consequences of that child. I believed that, like me, she could not bear children of her own. That was until I realised the Crest that Jeralt himself bore. My Crest."
"The Crest of Seiros," Seteth mumbled.
"Indeed. Somehow, the union of the two Crests allowed Byleth to exist. Alaya begged that I save her stillborn child, and so I did. Byleth was a factor I did not anticipate, yet she became my blessing. Our salvation. Do you see?" Rhea took a breath, the memories brimming tears in her eyes. She did not allow them to fall.
Seteth's lips were pursed, a deep crease between his brows. "I see, and yet I wonder; why were you so intent on reviving Mother? Our past is behind us, as painful as it was for us to endure. Fate does not like to be meddled with, Rhea."
Rhea slammed her fist on the desk. "You were not there!" she yelled, chest heaving in grievous fury. "You were not there," she repeated, softer.
"What are you-"
"The night our siblings were butchered like animals in their beds, their limbs harvested for weapons." Her voice shook with emotion. "Whilst you were pretending to be one with the human filth that plague this land, I watched as our home was destroyed. Everything we ever loved, taken in a single night. You were not there, Cichol. You do not know what it is to watch as your kin perish before your eyes, to hear their strangled cries. Their pleas for mercy- for Mother. I was left alive to avenge them. To keep the peace in Mother's place until she returned to us." The vermin of this world do not deserve peace, she thought bitterly. But her mother had loved them the same as she loved her own, and so Rhea had protected them as best she could. For you... all I do is for you, she thought, in the hope that somehow her words would reach her mother, wherever she may be.
"I am sorry, Rhea. I-" Seteth stumbled over his words, grasping for a response. "Every day I have regretted not being there for you. All of you. Perhaps if I were there, I could have-"
"It matters not." Rhea stood and walked to the window, holding back the sob that threatened to overcome her. Her reflection greeted her, pale green eyes glistening against the blackness of night beyond. Without the grandeur of her headdress she looked small and lost, a child afraid in a world without her mother. A tear fell, its warmth strange on her cheek. "My wait is at an end," she mumbled to herself. At long last, her goal had succeeded. Her family could be whole again, as few as they were.
Seteth's reflection joined her own, blurred by the streaks of rain. His hand lifted to rest upon her shoulder. "It seems surreal, does it not? To know that Mother is close by. Alive."
"I must find her, before the snakes slither back out from their nests." Rhea turned, and Seteth brushed the wetness from her cheek with the ball of his thumb. He smiled faintly.
"I will go. You must stay here in case she returns. Just say the word."
Rhea took his pale cheek in her hand, the softness of his beard tickling her palm. She ran a finger up the line of his jaw, tucking a strand of forest-green hair behind his pointed ear. "No. I will send Catherine. The boy, if I must. For you, brother, there is another matter I would have you see to."
His head tilted. "What would you have me do?"
She faced the window once more, focusing on the raindrops sliding down the glass, the low thrum of her magic. "You recall how I told you our kin were slain?"
"I do, and sadly so. What of it?"
"I was not the only survivor of that night."
A/N~ Seasons greetings, fellow readers! Sooo this turned into the Rhea and Seteth backstory show but uh... I hope you enjoyed it lol
Anyways, as Christmas is a time for thanks, I have gratitude (as Petra would say), for many people- so, without further ado! Thank you firstly to the wonderful people who took the time to review Chapter 1: Rileyty; Will; iHateFridays; Warlord; Dragonboy51; Summer and Guest. And thank you to everyone else who followed and read this story, I was not expecting it to get this much attention! Lastly, thank you to my friend Dave who always gives me the motivation and encouragement I need to write.
FOR ANYONE INTERESTED:
If you would like to keep updated on the progress of each chapter, I keep track of the word count on my profile. As a heads up, from Ch3 onwards I will be drawing concept sketches to go alongside this story on Instagram. I'll disclose the details when that comes around. See you next time!