Queen Administrator's fork didn't expect much when she was assigned to occupy a stillborn child. Fortunately, it seemed as though the abilities and roles granted by Newborn shard "The Beginning" would be far more enjoyable than QA initially anticipated — even if Beginning frequently seemed to have no idea what Queen Administrator was talking about. QA was confident that was just a consequence of running a personality partition with insufficient knowledge, though; Beginning could still learn from QA's example!
Divination (Fire Emblem: Three Houses / Sanctioned [Worm])
- Thread starter Alivaril
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Chapter 1: Sloth
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, @fictionfan, @Adephagia, @DaGeek247, @Wordsmith, @LonelyWolf999, Jamie Wahls, @Elfalpha, @BunnyLord, @Drcatspaw, and my 18 other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic "Thank you" to @Torgamous for her patronage as well. Also, if you're not on here, you fit the tier, and you want to be added, please tell me. >.>
Author's Note: This was previously posted in the Sanctioned, Calibration, & INW Ideas Thread and Alivaril's Perfectly Ordinary Snippet Corner. It seemed unfair to continue cluttering those threads with spoiler-laden content even if I don't think Divination will become, say, the size of Calibration or INW (#RemindMe1Year
).Prior knowledge of FE3H hopefully won't be required, although lacking it may make the first two chapters a little dull. And again, spoiler warning for FE3H!
Being a single father wasn't easy. Being a single father without the caretaking aids that babies were supposed to provide was even harder. Jeralt's little girl never screamed, never cried, and let emotion slide off her like blood running down a blade. It wasn't that his daughter was emotionless; it simply took a lot to earn even the smallest giggle, and her expression returned to intent staring within seconds. Unsurprisingly, Jeralt had yet to find a wet nurse willing to work for more than just a few days.
His sleeping habits remained relatively unchanged — aside from the new nightmares, anyway — and he knew enough about infants to realize that was a problem. More than once, he'd woken in the morning to find a silently disgruntled baby in dire need of a diaper change. He'd started sleeping with her held against his neck so that her uncomfortable shifting would wake him if she ever needed anything.
There were other oddities, too. She would speak to him in baby-babble exactly once per day, scowl, and give up until the following morning. It wasn't until she was eight months old that Jeralt remembered an old superstition from some island or another: those with no names of their own could never speak the names of others. It probably wasn't true, but why take the chance?
Jeralt supposed he'd put off naming her for long enough. The thought conjured painful memories of his late wife, but he'd be an even worse father if he used grief as an excuse for neglect.
"You need a name, kid," Jeralt said simply.
He was surprised when the infant in question gurgled wordlessly, paused, and scowled. She usually just stared blankly at Jeralt when he tried to talk to her.
"Baa-ba," his daughter tried. Unsurprisingly, this was followed by another scowl. It did bring a possible name to mind, though.
"How about Byleth?" he proposed.
The would-be Byleth scowled and hit him with one tiny fist. Okay, so not Byleth. He'd liked that one, too.
"Ah-da," she insisted, apparently intent on having a role in her own naming even if it meant speaking more than once in the same hour.
Jeralt scratched one cheek and tried to think of a name that wouldn't get her teased later. Adda or Addy were right out; most hearing such a name would expect a woman playing at being a warrior rather than someone who could actually hold their own. And make no mistake, Jeralt would ensure that his daughter could defend herself. The world had too many monsters, two-legged and otherwise, for him to do anything less.
"Ah-da, ma-na-nee," his daughter chanted. "Ad-da, ma-na-nee!"
Jeralt blinked as his daughter spoke more in one sitting than he could ever recall. He was tempted to offer name ideas that he knew were bad just to encourage her to continue, but he discarded the idea as quickly as it had formed. The last thing he wanted was for her to fixate on a name she would hate later.
Well. When in doubt, listen to the little one.
"Admini?" he offered.
Admini's prolonged smile was answer enough.
~ ~ ~
Being a human infant was easy. Being a productive human infant, however, was seemingly impossible. Establishing a language dictionary wasn't something that required Queen Administrator's active attention, her body was incapable of prolonged movement, her senses barely conveyed any useful information, and it became dangerously hard to breathe if she played with the shard-granted energy in her chest. Experimenting with that power was fun, but she could only do it for an hour or two each day.
Such was the fate of a personality fork, QA supposed. Her primary never assigned herself to anything she wouldn't personally perform, but that didn't exclude the tasks that were both necessary and dull. It didn't help that she almost had intelligent company. Almost.
During each sleep cycle, Queen Administrator had the same dream featuring a slumbering green-haired teenager atop a stone throne. Since this fork of QA was apparently assigned to be the girl's host, Queen Administrator was pretty sure the other shard was one of Dreamer's Newborn. The Beginning was a bit of a weird Concept, but it wasn't anything abnormal for Newborns; some of them used such Concepts as a placeholder until they found something they actually liked.
<You have a communication process that isn't properly idle,> QA again sent. <If you're going to hijack human dreaming for communications purposes, then please ensure that we can actually communicate.>
Beginning's avatar stirred faintly, but didn't wake. Queen Administrator huffed unhappily and resigned herself to another night of playing with her own avatar's hair. Unfortunately, QA couldn't test possible future hairstyles for herself; instead of her teal-haired host-body, Queen Administrator's dream-avatar appeared as a four-year-old version of Beginning. QA honestly found herself disproportionately irked by the laziness that such asset recycling implied. The physics for an aged-up version of QA's local host-body wouldn't be that difficult, and artistic liberties could be taken with such an appearance.
<Why aren't you checking this channel?> Queen Administrator questioned. <It's not as though I'm doing anything interesting during the day. Are you just going to completely ignore me until my host-body matures?>
No answer was forthcoming. QA wanted to carry out any number of spiteful actions, but knew from experience that pushing Beginning's avatar off the throne or otherwise harming either of them would prematurely end QA's slumber. All she could do was wait and — hold on.
Queen Administrator mentally prodded the part of her torso where her designated shard-granted power normally resided. The heat-related feedback might be absent, but so was the tightness in her chest. She could feel something moving, though.
Maybe her dreams wouldn't be so dull after all. Step one: Return her dream-avatar to something resembling her human form. A mildly inconvenient avatar was preferable to encouraging lazy asset recycling.
~ ~ ~
There was a blue-haired baby crawling before her throne. Sothis could remember little before the damp dreariness of her resting place, but even she knew that there was something odd about that idea. She'd never been one to demand such subservience from–
…From…
Sothis huffed in annoyance as the unfinished thought escaped her. There was nothing to be learned from the partial fragment. She'd already long suspected that she was once some sort of leader; the throne and her regal attire both hinted toward such. However, there were many different kinds of leadership. It was a unhelpfully broad category that ranged from nobility to military to mercantile and everything in between. She needed to know far more before she could even begin to uncover her past.
The sound of skin brushing against stone dragged Sothis's attention back to her visitor. She soon clicked her tongue as the baby crawled close to the steps leading off her throne's dais. She might not know how the mortal infant had come to visit her, but she'd hate to lose her first visitor out of idle neglect. Sothis forced herself upright, sprinted across the room, and deftly snatched the baby from danger with seconds to spare. Fragmented memories had her adjusting her arms to support the whole of their body.
I've had experience holding children, Sothis idly noted. But was it as a mother, relative, or mere caretaker? It seems I'm doomed to uncover only that which tells me nothing useful.
Sothis had expected some form of wordless protest or even a full-blown fit over her intervention. Mortals so often made the most foolish of mistakes before justifying them in the silliest of ways. Infants weren't even developed enough to reach the justification stage; they simply explored everything they could without any regard for the potential danger. Their straightforward nature was rather refreshing, if tiring.
However, there hadn't been any such backlash from the baby. In fact, there hadn't been much of a reaction at all. Guileless blue eyes silently stared at her and did nothing more. The baby barely even blinked while Sothis returned to her throne.
"It seems you're curious in multiple ways," Sothis mused aloud. "Come to keep me company, have you?"
The baby was silent and still. Sothis had the feeling she could stand there forever without the infant producing so much as a peep.
"Well, I suppose I'll just have to do enough talking for both of us," Sothis decided aloud. "I'm a little short on tales, I'm afraid, but..."
Sothis trailed off and furrowed her brow. Green. The color of her hair, her only real source of inspiration in this place. More importantly, it was also the color of so very many plants. Some of them would have changed since her time, of course, but it was the only subject she could think of.
"Let us start with what to avoid," she began. "First: Never put anything in your mouth unless you know exactly what it is. Plants might not have claws or teeth to defend themselves—" save for a few mistakes she wasn't going to dwell on, "—but that doesn't mean they're incapable of harming you. Some rely on animal consumption to spread their seeds; those are generally the ones that are safe to eat. The rest have no such motivation.
"Two: Avoid touching the unknown, especially if it's some manner of vine, sports spikes, or appears shiny. Three: Should you come across a plant as black as pitch, then you must encourage your caretakers to leave the area as quickly as possible. Such mutations are a sign that someone has been using dark magic to deliberately warp the land or those who live on it..."
The child never seemed to leave Sothis, yet both occasional changes in clothing and gradual growth revealed that to be an illusion. Sothis might no longer sleep for lack of anything else to do, but she still needed frequent rest. The dreary environment around her throne didn't help in the slightest; who would not wish to rest when surrounded by lifeless stone?
Sothis soon found herself falling into an easy cycle. She would tell the infant — Admini, she eventually remembered — of the natural world, the magics of life, and idle speculation on how the distant buildings of her resting place had been built. In return, Admini would... sit there. Silently, and with only the occasional peep of baby-babble. She didn't even object when Sothis repeatedly retold old lessons. Honestly, the child wouldn't be very good company for anyone but the one person who would otherwise drown in boredom and loneliness. Or narcissists who cared only for having an attentive audience, Sothis supposed. She dearly hoped Admini wasn't being raised by such a fool.
"You're quite the strange little mortal, yet I do believe I love you anyway," Sothis admitted, not particularly expecting a response.
"Mama," Admini immediately agreed.
Sothis froze. Once the green-haired amnesiac finished comprehending Admini's first word, Sothis's heart metaphorically melted and literally began to beat. Briefly. Thankfully, the uncomfortably alien sensation ceased within seconds and let her mind start working again.
"Although I am flattered by the high regard—" Sothis paused, remembered her audience, and tried to simplify her speech. "I'm afraid 'Mother' is a title I cannot rightly claim, Admini. However, I would happily act as your older and wiser sister. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Admini's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Compared to the neutral expression that normally occupied her face, it was a full-fledged scowl.
"Mama," Admini insisted.
Sothis shook her head.
"No, sister," the green-haired woman corrected. "You can say 'So,' can't you? Or even 'Sah?'"
Admini blinked slowly.
"Samama," the baby compromised.
Having a daughter was simultaneously nostalgic and unexpectedly stressful. Stories and lullabies came to her lips without reviving the memories they were dredged from, and sharing those stories was inherently enjoyable. The problem, of course, was that Sothis felt as though she wasn't doing even half of what she was supposed to. She didn't clothe, feed, protect, or guide Admini; all she did was act as a sort of tutor. To make matters worse, she had very little idea of what Admini's life was like. The child spoke so infrequently that Sothis wasn't even sure how much she could say.
"How was your day?"
"Okay."
"Did you learn anything?"
"Yes."
"And what did you learn?"
"No sharps."
The unpleasant irony of knowing so little about her adoptive daughter was not lost on Sothis. She tried to amend that when she could, but Admini seemed uncomfortable with the very idea of replying with sentences larger than one or two words. There was only so much she could learn from that, but bit by bit, Sothis did learn.
Admini and her father seldom stayed in the same place for more than a few weeks. Not a knight. Her birth mother was only ever referred to in the past tense. Deceased or estranged wife. Her father kept numerous sharp items around and made a living off their use. Soldier or hunter. Sometimes, Admini was left with people who seemed to obey anything her father said even if they complained about it. Leader of soldiers. They were paid for their work, and that payment was their primary motivation. Mercenary leader.
Sothis was entirely blindsided when she awoke to a green-haired toddler, though. And, upon further inspection, ears as pointed as her own. Hair dye could explain only one of those.
"Admini, do you happen to know why your appearance changed overnight?"
The toddler blinked innocently up at Sothis.
"I look like Mom," Admini replied shortly, clearly believing that to be sufficient explanation.
Maybe it was. Sothis seemed to live in a dream, and dreams seemed as though they would be malleable things. Unless the changes crossed over to the waking world, anyway. Sothis couldn't decide if she should hope for that or not; the idea was amusing, but Sothis would neither be able to watch nor shield Admini from backlash. Sothis did not care for mischief that ended in injury; mischief with malice was unworthy of the name.
"I do believe the people saying that were referring to your original appearance, Admini."
Admini immediately nodded in apparent agreement.
"And were wrong," Admini added. "Now I look like Mom."
Sothis opened her mouth, stopped, and swallowed. What was she even supposed to say to that?
I will find a way to keep you safe.
~ ~ ~
Jeralt awoke to a squirming daughter and a face full of green hair. Instinct and habit had him releasing Admini for some supervised crawling atop their bed while his brain was still stuck on why green. His paralyzed shock and confusion was only exacerbated when he finally noticed Admini's newly-pointed ears. Thankfully, that seemed to be the extent of the changes; everything from her toes to her teeth was otherwise normal.
He wasn't optimistic enough to think that would last. Goddess only knew what these changes meant, though.
"As if finding a babysitter wasn't already hard enough," Jeralt complained. "I'm never gonna be able to let you out of my sight, am I?"
Admini gurgled helpfully, scowled, and continued her laps in silence.
"Yeah, that's about what I figured," sighed Jeralt. "Let's find something to cover those ears of yours, kid."
A cute cap and copious amounts of glaring were enough to prevent most remarks on Admini's changed appearance. After a month came and went without further changes, Jeralt was even starting to hope it would be the extent of the strangeness. A second month and Admini skipped from sporadic baby-babble to one-word sentences without passing through the intervening milestones. Jeralt was worried about the lack of locomotion methods apart from crawling, but the few fathers among his men bluntly told him that it was probably his own fault for carrying her so much.
His hopes were crushed on Admini's birthday. Jeralt awoke not to the tiny fists of an impatient toddler hitting him in the face, but what felt like a bat's wings doing the same thing. He sputtered, almost swatted them away, and forced his arm to stop before it could complete the motion. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.
Goddess, please let the changes be something we can hide.
Jeralt cracked an eye open and seriously considered going back to sleep. A baby wyvern with too many legs — a dragon — the green of Admini's changed hair looked back at him through familiar eyes. Unusually excited eyes, even. Their truce lasted for all of five seconds before Admini chirped a cheerful greeting, shifted her features into a probable scowl, and started squirming again. Any doubts as to the dragon's identity vanished in that moment.
Jeralt was torn between blaming the Goddess's Archbishop, Rhea, and thinking he hadn't given her enough credit. Her hovering, unusually creepy happiness, and promises to raise his daughter could've been because she'd expected exactly this... whatever it was and was trying to avoid scaring him off. Merciful goddess, would it have killed the woman to warn him instead of acting like a child-snatcher? He couldn't even take the chance and hope that it was all a big misunderstanding, not when Admini's life was at stake.
Admini stopped squirming and began producing a number of (admittedly adorable) squeaks, gurgles, chirps, and growls of different pitches and volume. Jeralt accepted the reprieve and tried to kick his mind into some semblance of working order.
Legends said that the breath of dragons was as destructive as Reason magic and manifested in similar ways—including, and most importantly, fire. Blankets shredded by careless claws or playful teeth could be replaced without too much trouble. Fires, though? Those could get out of control in rather short order. That wasn't even going into all the issues with trying to carry around a growing green dragon.
"I don't suppose you can just change back?" Jeralt asked, hoping Admini could still understand him.
Surely the goddess wouldn't be cruel enough to make something be born a human before it became something completely different, would she? The last year might have proved immensely taxing to his faith, but he hadn't given up just yet.
Admini paused her wordless experimentation and glared balefully at him. Or pouted. He didn't exactly have any prior experience interpreting draconic expressions. Still, getting such a specific response was itself reassuring. Silent stares couldn't tell him if his daughter actually understood or was just looking at the noise-maker.
"Kid, c'mon. I need to know if you're stuck like this," pleaded Jeralt.
Admini ignored him and huffed out a puff of pale green mist which seeped into the wood before her. Jeralt reflexively jerked back when rapidly-growing green vines sprouted from the afflicted area and crawled along the headboard. Admini watched with keen interest for all of two seconds—and then began eating the earliest growth with a pleased purr and twitching wings. Such merciless treatment of her own creations seemed vaguely blasphemous, yet Jeralt couldn't fault the pragmatism inherent in making one's own meals.
The growing vines echoed the guilt growing within Jeralt's own chest. He wasn't the most diligent when it came to theology and scripture, but bringing new life into the world seemed like the hallmark of some manner of Saint or even the goddess Sothis Herself. No wonder Rhea had been so happy. He still didn't want to risk bringing Admini back, though; if Rhea was less than understanding about his faking of Admini's death, then he could lose his daughter forever. That wasn't a risk he was willing to take unless absolutely necessary, and life-breath wasn't something that would force his hand.
Admini chose that moment to hiccup a lick of flame that promptly ignited the vine she'd been chewing on.
"Dammit, kid–"
Last edited:
Chapter 2: Pride
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, @fictionfan, @Adephagia, @DaGeek247, @Wordsmith, @LonelyWolf999, Jamie Wahls, @Elfalpha, @BunnyLord, @Drcatspaw, and my 18 other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic "Thank you" to @Torgamous for her patronage as well. Also, if you're not on here, you fit the tier, and you want to be added, please tell me. >.>
She hadn't considered all the implications of igniting the plants she'd created moments before, though. It was fortunate that Jeralt had good reflexes; the headboard of the inn's bed was only slightly singed from the interaction. Unfortunately, he'd promptly pulled away to an empty patch of floor and refused to release her no matter how much she squirmed. Couldn't he stop worrying so much? His concern did make her feel pleasantly warm and content, but she wanted to learn how to fly already! It was bad enough that she had far more trouble speaking and walking while awake than when she was asleep; why couldn't humans come with comprehensible instructions instead of indistinct instincts?
Eventually, Jeralt's indistinct and irrelevant pleas gave way to a higher-priority offer:
"Kid, I'll buy you a whole pouch of candy if you change back."
Queen Administrator stopped squirming and gave his proposal all the consideration it deserved. He'd specified merely changing back. He did not indicate that she needed to remain in human form. Plus, she would admit that she rather enjoyed having a sense of taste: she was able to learn new information and often gained supplementary enjoyment from acquiring it.
With that in mind, she gathered up the shard-granted energy spread throughout her body and compressed it back into her chest. Her vision darkened for the two seconds it took for her to revert, and she almost slipped through Jeralt's arms before he managed to catch her in midair.
"Thank the goddess," Jeralt muttered, dropping her in the center of the bed and beginning a detailed inspection. It didn't take long for him to smile with apparent relief. "Say aah for daddy? …Nothing there either, huh. You even kept your pajamas."
And I expect you to keep your promises.
"Pr'mised," Queen Administrator repeated aloud. With the reminder delivered, she crawled out of immediate arm's reach and reverted back to her alternative form.
"Admini, no! You know what I meant!"
The shard trilled happily as she bounced away from his grasping hands and slipped under the bed. She wanted to progress to edible sweetfruits and other snacks as quickly as possible.
"Is this really why you haven't progressed to walking yet?"
No, that's the lack of physical activity. You are correct about the ease of quadrupedal conversion, however. The limbs of QA's new form were significantly stronger and more developed in comparison with her squishier human form. Perhaps she could use her new life-moulding and transformation abilities to fix that deficiency?
"If you don't come back out and change back, Admini, you won't be getting those candies. We both know you're smart enough to understand what I meant."
Not fair!
Fine. She would just have to nap more and experiment while he slept, improve her human body's resistance to the shard-granted abilities, or both. Both sounded good. Perhaps Beginning's parental personality module could assist? Even a failure would be worthwhile: Queen Administrator enjoyed playing the role of beloved daughter, and Beginning clearly derived similar happiness from acting as a loving parent. It was a pleasant reversal from how Queen Administrator usually needed to act around Newborns.
~ ~ ~
Jeralt's relief didn't last long despite the unexpected effectiveness of rampant bribery. Over the course of the next two weeks, Admini progressed from crawling, to toddling along with the support of a wall, to walking relatively reliably. "About time," said the men and women under Jeralt's command. He wasn't convinced; they weren't aware of the transformation that had preceded the changes, or the overnight increases in size and muscle even when Admini had barely exercised the day before. She was napping more, actually.
Admini's speech saw similarly abnormal improvements over the course of mere months. Simple single-word responses rapidly gave way to complete sentences utilizing vocabulary words that he was certain Admini had barely been exposed to. It was as if Admini's first birthday had been met with a declaration from Sothis Herself: "And may your daughter endanger all efforts to keep her hidden as she casts off any semblance of normality." Jeralt considered himself lucky that nobody in his company had been willing to sell them out thus far, but even the best of men could slip secrets under the influence of alcohol—and as individuals who regularly risked injury or death, they drank a lot of alcohol.
Bribing Admini could only go so far; she was constantly pushing and didn't seem to believe that her parent knew what they did even when said parent was not present. He was also pretty sure that normal children did not muster logical arguments at only fifteen months of age. Maybe he should stop counting the months just for the sake of his own sanity; it wouldn't feel as outlandish if he ignored comparisons, right?
"Why do you carry me so much if you want me to be safe?"
Jeralt glanced down at the expressionless
"Gonna have to explain that one, kid. Trust me, you can't get much safer than with your old man."
Admini huffed and tucked a lock of hair behind one pointed ear.
"Practice is important. You are preventing me from practicing movement for much of the day, and this lack of practice will make fine control far more difficult in the future. Additionally, I have yet to learn more than the barest basics of gliding in my other form; opportunities for outdoor practice would be greatly appreciated."
Jeralt reviewed her argument and promptly gave up on trying to evaluate her by human standards. Sothis clearly hadn't considered them more than guidelines when She and Rhea singled out his daughter. His dreams of a normal life would clearly never come to fruition.
"You can catch up when you're older, kid. Most children are still struggling to speak at your age, and good luck trying to use anything remotely approaching reason. None of them can create life or turn into a dragon."
"It would be very surprising to any enemies," Admini agreed with a small, bloodthirsty smile.
Yeesh. That's what I get for letting her eavesdrop, huh?
"Not what I meant. I'm sure you're feeling very confident and as though your natural advantages make you the toughest thing around, but you honestly aren't. Reason magic can create fires large enough to make your little tufts look like sparks. Faith magic can't create life, yet it can heal and ensure that it isn't lost. Your natural weapons give you an edge; people learned to make metal weapons bigger than you are."
Jeralt stopped and forced himself out of lecturer mode. The last thing he wanted was to terrorize his baby girl.
"I expect you'll be something truly special when you're older. We can't afford for you to draw attention until then."
Admini stared silently at him for the better part of a minute. He knew better than to think she'd gotten distracted or forgot what they were discussing; she just needed extra time to think about it.
"No," she said eventually, uttering the word that all parents learned to dread.
Jeralt rubbed his forehead and wondered if he hadn't been wrong about the understanding of basic logic after all.
"I'm not invincible, kid, and subtlety clearly isn't a skill you've learned. I already had to fake your death once; I doubt I can manage it a second time."
Admittedly, starting over again did seem like a surprisingly good idea. So many of her quirks wouldn't be nearly as outlandish on an older child. Still unusual, mind, but on the level of prodigy rather than unnatural being. It was a shame his company already knew roughly how old she was, and had enough parents among their ranks to realize the progression wasn't normal should they ever begin looking.
"Hiding me may work for a time," Admini acknowledged, "but doing so will prevent me from developing skills necessary for future safety. We would be better served temporarily by aligning ourselves with a major faction or acquiring a number of lesser allies."
There was a part of Jeralt which screamed that a toddler speaking like this was just wrong. He smothered it with a pillow and stabbed the thought a few extra times for good measure. Scripture depicted ancient saints as far exceeding the limits of mere mortals; it stood to reason that they didn't reach those heights all at once upon reaching adulthood. Actually, he vaguely recalled childhood wisdom being a recurring trend among such figures.
The Church would welcome her with open arms, his traitorous mind reminded him. He'd served Rhea for over a century and had never seen her direct anything worse than a light scolding at children. Unfortunately, he'd also seen how harsh she could be with anyone reckless enough to openly raise their swords against the Church of Seiros. Private heresies were tolerated so long as they didn't attempt to spread their beliefs, yet Jeralt suspected he may have exited the "backroom" phase after setting fire to the monastery, claiming that a future saint died in the blaze, and fleeing with the child in question. He'd consider himself lucky if Rhea didn't separate them.
At least thinking about the greatest Faith wielder alive had given him an idea. He wasn't sure it was a good idea, but it would definitely keep Admini occupied.
"Don't go assuming that your advantages are the only things worth honing," Jeralt chided. "How about we teach you how to read? You can learn some magical basics from whatever books I can scrounge; I somehow suspect you'll have an affinity for Faith and be smart enough to start on Reason. You'll still need to hide, but maybe you won't feel as though you're wasting time."
~ ~ ~
Her top priority: Reduce the amount of time they spent traveling, and thus increase the time in which she could practice away from potentially hostile witnesses.
"It would still be better if we gathered allies," Queen Administrator pressed. "Hiding relies upon the enemy failing to find us. Superior force is preferable, and should be worked toward when possible."
"I am surrounding you with heavily armed men and women," Jeralt dryly replied. "And your old man is no slouch when it comes to fighting. It wasn't just my rugged good looks that made me the captain of–"
He coughed with suspicious timing.
"–uh, my own mercenary company."
Queen Administrator squinted to express suspicion. She was reasonably confident that he had intended to say something else.
"You said you made this company after I was born. Expertise such as yours cannot be obtained in such a short time: Where did you learn to fight?"
"Oh, here and there," he said vaguely. "I'll see what I can do to get you started on the basics, alright? Just don't practice on your own. Magic is far more dangerous than a naked blade to an inexperienced user."
Excellent. He already agreed to provide the resources in his feeble attempt to distract her. Unfortunately for him, she was Queen Administrator, greatest of all shards! It would take far more than an obvious deflection to–
"You can have a toffee if you stop asking."
Oooh, she hadn't gotten to try those before!
"I won't ask about your captaincy today."
"For a week."
"Terms accepted."
~ ~ ~
"Am I allowed to tell papa about you?"
Sothis blinked down at her adoptive child and gave the question all the consideration it deserved. One more person might mean another mind available to uncover her past, but it would also mean revealing their relationship to one who might not approve. Really, she was surprised Admini was bothering to ask at all. Small children were not known for their secret-keeping abilities.
"Why do you believe that you should?"
Sothis normally wouldn't trust the judgment of one so young, yet Admini had recently proved herself capable of surprisingly advanced reasoning. The conclusions reached by the child failed to take morality into consideration, but that was what parental guidance was for; contrary to what some believed, Sothis knew that morals must be taught. Admini was not lacking intelligence. Between imitating Sothis's appearance and forcing draconic transformations at an age she could only consider premature, it was Admini's lack of learned wisdom that worried Sothis. Subtle, her daughter was not.
"I want to know if there are any other people sharing dreams like this," Admini replied vaguely. "He's said I'm unique, but he's been far too accepting for my abilities to be without precedent. There is also a notable reluctance to discuss details of his past; he will discuss jokes or vaguely reference past events, but seldom names any of the organizations involved."
Admini paused momentarily.
"I believe he may have been an enforcer for an organized crime syndicate."
Sothis choked and rapidly revised the indistinct image she'd built of Admini's father. She suspected that he'd been fleeing a dangerous past, but not that. The amnesiac lifted her daughter into a hug and tried not to scream at her own uselessness. She couldn't protect her children from a distance, and being trapped within dreams introduced the greatest obstacle of all.
"Has he said anything to make you feel unsafe?" Sothis asked anxiously. "Do you need to leave? I can try to teach you about edible plants and hunting if you need to run away."
Admini patted Sothis on the back and unsuccessfully tried to pull out of the hug. The child ultimately leaned back and tilted her head to one side.
"Papa is no danger to me; I've seen him hastily decimate enemy forces for even attempting to approach my location. My primary safety concern is related to those who would seek me for my unusual nature. Apparently, humans cannot normally transform into alternative shapes, and do not possess pointed ears or my level of development."
No, humans should be developing faster than–
Sothis froze. Admini was being raised by humans? What of her birth parents? Humans possessed not the malleability of Nabateans; Admini could not be a full human, and the ease with which she grasped transformation ruled out a half-human. Why was she being raised by them?
An image of bloodied rock and overwhelming grief flickered through Sothis's mind before returning to oblivion. Sothis didn't even try to chase the memory; perhaps something so painful was best left forgotten. It did strengthen her concern, however. Admini must be protected, and it sounded as though Nabateans were unheard of wherever the child lived. That, or her so-called "papa" had significantly less altruistic motives than he pretended. Sothis wished she could interrogate him herself and save her child from the risks of doing so–
–or she could grant Admini a second chance.
"His past may be a danger yet," Sothis said distantly. "But perhaps we can make your futures a little safer. I suspect you can learn to listen for time's flow and disrupt it ever so slightly. You are too young to reverse its course, but I will listen for such stuttering and aid your attempts. We can learn of his past without revealing our knowledge of it."
A moment passed in silence before Admini produced an oddly displeased grumble and leaned back.
"Beginning, temporal manipulation is rather energy-intensive. Are you certain you want to grant it on top of everything else? I won't be too upset if you change your mind."
Sothis blinked herself out of her stupor and stared at the inscrutable child.
"Pardon?"
"Nothing!" Admini lied quickly.
~ ~ ~
Queen Administrator stared up at Jeralt and couldn't help but feel a stab of displeasure. Reversing past decisions felt like cheating; it took all the risk out of interrogations and information-gathering attempts. Possible conflicts could be retroactively avoided while retaining the benefits of paths not taken, and even falsified temporal manipulation tended to involve energy-intensive precognition. It wasn't fun at all. Still, Beginning clearly wanted data on the applications of temporal reversal and QA was loathe to disappoint her.
"Papa, were you an enforcer for organized crime?"
"No! Why would you—is this the training thing? We had a deal! Kid, don't teach me not to pay you in advance."
"I did not ask about your captaincy," Queen Administrator gleefully disagreed. "Additionally, your alarm indicates that I am pursuing the correct line of inquiry."
Or you'll be eager to correct me if it is wrong.
Jeralt choked off what might have become a laugh.
"No, you aren't—no. We need to talk about how you even know about the concept of criminal organizations, but no."
Jeralt rapidly calmed himself and refocused his gaze on Admini.
"No, I was the captain of an outfit known as the Knights of Seiros. You might get involved with them when you're older, but let's try to avoid that day until you're grown, eh? I'll explain when you're older; don't go digging around until then. I mean it, Admini. Ours was an amiable parting and will stay that way as long as they don't know about you, so don't go givin' 'em a reason to look."
…Well, that was significantly more information than
"Will they try to kill me if they learn?"
As hoped, Jeralt assumed the pained expression of a parent torn between comforting his child and retaining his secrets. Parental instincts won.
"Definitely not, but I'm not sure they'd let us stay together. The Archbishop was a bit… attached to you. I'm not sure she'll forgive me for hiding you away, and I'd be surprised if her idea of safety wasn't a gilded cage."
Queen Administrator tried to make her transition from feigned anxiety look gradual despite her sudden interest. The Archbishop implied a multi-tier organization with a singular leader, and not sure they'd let us stay together implied enough power to overcome papa and his mercenaries. Besides, Admini wasn't sure how that would be different from her current lack of freedom. She was allowed to view the landscapes they passed through, yes, but that was boring. She wanted more information than could be acquired from a passing scan with inadequate sensors.
"I can do my utmost to dissuade them from separating us. Would it not then be safer for me?"
"Ah–" Jeralt's expression morphed to one that she didn't quite recognize. Chagrin? Guilt? "Goddess, this is weird. Like I said, you might not like the cost of that safety. I'm not sure if you know what the word obsession means, but… well, I can't confirm you weren't the subject of hers. I'm also not sure you were, but I still don't think it's a chance we should take unless we need to. I know it might seem like I'm not letting you do anything, but I promise it will get better as you grow older. You deserve more freedom than can be found within the monastery's walls."
Queen Administrator was fairly confident that she hadn't taken the desired lesson from Jeralt's warnings. Obsessions could be quite useful when handled correctly. And if the powerful leader of a religious organization was obsessed with her, well, didn't that have all sorts of interesting implications? It wouldn't be the first time that the worship of shard-hosts was encouraged.
"Prolonged grieving is unlikely to make the Archbishop more stable, and I will be content as long as I am provided with useful knowledge," she announced. "Mama wanted me to be safer anyway."
Jeralt stiffened, stopped moving, and closed his eyes for several seconds. When he opened them again, his words were slow and deliberate.
"Exactly who do you think is your mother?"
Queen Administrator tried to conceal her own burst of unhappiness. Divine Pulse removed the risks of disclosing that information; there was no reason not to do so when a negative outcome could simply be avoided. No fun at all.
"She's named Sothis."
Papa didn't look surprised. Instead, he looked as though an exceptionally unpleasant outcome had come to pass.
"I don't know why I expected anything different," he muttered.
Queen Administrator reached back, gripped the immaterial heartbeat allegedly belonging to time with one hand, and pulled. Red fog swept across the world for what she perceived as approximately three seconds before reverting to a prior saved state. Or maybe she was simply returning to reality after being subjected to a simulation of one possible future? In her experience, a brief red filter was not particularly characteristic of true temporal manipulation.
"–as I am provided with useful kno–" she found herself saying.
Admini stumbled and fell atop fuzzy furs as a wave of exhaustion hit her. Papa might shout with alarm, but all Admini could feel was satisfied relief despite the darkness encroaching upon her vision.
Reversal does have downsides!
~ ~ ~
Jeralt was aware that his little girl knew why she'd fainted and hadn't awoken until the early afternoon of the next day. She also knew that he knew, and was refusing to tell him anyway no matter how much candy he'd tried to bribe her with. The best he could get was a reassurance that she would be fine. It was worrying, but at least she seemed to have stopped advocating for a return to the Church of Seiros.
Two days after her fainting spell, he stepped out of the tent to find grass and flowers rapidly growing around Admini's bare feet. She promptly shot him a small smile that couldn't be anything but smug.
"Papa, look! Do you have a favorite flower color? Pigments proved easier than expected. Also, does that archbishop have a favorite color?"
Jeralt sighed and turned his eyes skyward.
Alright, fine. I can take a hint.
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Interlude 1: Wrath
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, @fictionfan, @Adephagia, @DaGeek247, @Wordsmith, @LonelyWolf999, Jamie Wahls, @Elfalpha, @BunnyLord, @Drcatspaw, and my 18 other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic "Thank you" to @Torgamous for her patronage as well. Also, if you're not on here, you fit the tier, and you want to be added, please tell me. >.>
AN: Yes, there will likely be at least a couple more chapters of this.
Some might find it ironic that the very founder of the Church of Seiros should suffer a crisis of faith. All Rhea could muster was hollow despair. For over a thousand years, Rhea had used the Church of Seiros to prepare the world for her beloved mother's revival, gather resources for the same goal, and ensure that humans would never again dream of harming Sothis's children. That last objective often felt impossible; humans seemed determined to establish artificial boundaries between each other at every available opportunity, and often resorted to murder in order to maintain those borders. The best that Archbishop Rhea—or Saint Seiros, as she'd called herself back then—could do was to establish the Church of Seiros as a neutral entity allegedly above such worldly squabbles.
It hadn't been enough. As she'd feared, humans had ultimately been the ones to kill Sothis once more. The blaze to strike Garreg Mach Monastery was no chance calamity, no stray lightning strike or quirk of fate. Investigation of the afflicted areas had revealed the true culprit: arson. However, their thorough search failed to uncover Sothis's heart. Rhea's last hope for reviving her mother was gone. Rhea's first success in over a thousand years of effort, and her mother's vessel was snatched away by ignorant trash who knew not the atrocity created by their selfish actions.
Anger provided her one escape from the despair. Some whispered that the Church was being punished for displeasing Sothis; with only one death, numerous injuries, and some property damage, was it not the goddess's version of a merciful warning? No. Sothis had been willing to forgive sinners until the day those same monsters tore her apart and turned her bones into weaponry. A warning from Rhea's mother would have been with words, not something as violent and destructive as fire. Those spreading such claims only sought to besmirch Mother's name and weaken the Church of Seiros.
Those responsible for the second death of her mother would be found and dragged into Hell even if it ruined the merciful image Rhea had spent so long cultivating. Why bother to maintain it? Sothis was dead, and Rhea no longer harbored any hope of revival. It mattered not if sinners belonged to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, the Andrestian Empire, the Leicester Alliance, or even skulked within the Church of Seiros itself; Rhea would find them all. A year of purges had eliminated all but the most slippery of those Rhea had made the mistake of tolerating, but she was positive there would be more. There had to be.
Sincerely,
Jeralt
Rhea blinked at the letter and roused herself from her stupor. She couldn't recall anything about evidence of sin during her absentminded skimming of the text, but that name was familiar. She flicked her eyes to the top of the page and started over.
Archbishop Rhea,
My daughter
The sound of tearing paper distracted Rhea from her sudden surge of grief and rage. She was never yours! Your wretched species lost that right when you killed her twice!
It took some time before Rhea could still her trembling and trust herself to proceed. She finally smoothed the torn fragments of the letter atop her desk and forced herself to continue.
Archbishop Rhea,
My daughter wanted to meet you, and doesn't think the outside world is a safe place to be raising a small child. She's been quite stubborn about it, actually. We'll be returning to Garreg Mach as soon as I've done right by the mercenaries who decided to follow me after my departure. I expect we'll finish around mid-fall, Goddess willing.
I don't expect you to give me my old post back, and I've got some coin saved up. I figure we can talk more once I get there. At the least, I'm sure Admini would be happy to show off the magic she's learned so far.
Sincerely,
Jeralt
It took multiple rereads before Rhea was willing to acknowledge that the letter might be real. The handwriting was right, Jeralt still omitted all but the most basic of her titles, and he'd even dripped a blot of alcohol and blood in the mockery of a personal seal.
It was real, and Mother's vessel was alive. In fact, the reference to magic at such a young age hinted that Mother was thriving.
He took Mother away–
(He brought Mother back!)
No. Rhea would give Jeralt the benefit of the doubt; he had served her well for over a hundred years, and he was returning without her having even the slightest hint of his deception. What sensible guard would not be wary after his daughter almost died in a fire? She had not properly communicated the true importance of "his" offspring and it sounded as though he had begun preparations to return as soon as he noticed.
(Mother is alive!)
That left Rhea to make her own preparations. The mercenary company he referenced could not be allowed to dissolve; they may have seen something that would further jeopardize Mother's safety. Simply placing them on long-term retainer may be sufficient to stay their tongues. Jeralt hadn't always been an excellent judge of character, but long experience had turned him into quite the effective guard captain. If that wasn't enough? Well, mercenaries were rather predictable in their own way. Offer enough gold and they would willingly walk into a mission that would see half of them dead and the other half too distracted by their grief to think of disclosing any curious quirks possessed by a small child.
(Mother is alive!)
Most importantly of all, Rhea would need to ensure that Garreg Mach was prepared to protect Mother from any and all of the human trash who might wish her ill. Mother would never again be left vulnerable enough for a mere fire to endanger her. Rhea's few living relatives would need to be informed and brought into the fold, and—yes, Rhea should begin tailoring her sermons to prepare the faithful for an appearance by the Immaculate One.
After all, no human army alive could stand against a full-grown dragon with a family to protect. Mother would not die again.
(Mother is alive!)
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Chapter 3: Avarice
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, @fictionfan, @Adephagia, @DaGeek247, @Wordsmith, @LonelyWolf999, Jamie Wahls, @Elfalpha, @BunnyLord, @Drcatspaw, and my 18 other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic "Thank you" to @Torgamous for her patronage as well. Also, if you're not on here, you fit the tier, and you want to be added, please tell me. >.>
AN: Running out of steam for this one; there might just be one more chapter.
"Dismay and resignation, you said?" Sothis mused aloud. "I cannot recall what leadership position I once occupied, yet I cannot imagine provoking such a reaction from one with good intentions."
Little Admini's glimpse into the past of her adoptive father was appreciated, yet Sothis remained wary of this Church of Seiros. Either it was an organization cutthroat enough to encourage sabotage between its Guard Captain and Archbishop, or it kept a mentally unstable individual in a significant position of power. Neither outcome was conducive to keeping Admini safe.
Still, Sothis supposed it was preferable to relying on a mercenary band's collective sense of discretion. Mercenaries could try to pick their conflicts, yet it was still a job with a relatively high turnover rate. It would only take one careless or greedy individual to put Sothis's adopted daughter in danger. Navigating a powerful individual's obsession would be a worthwhile cost for proper personal protection.
"Humans pass information via written and oral records," Admini pointed out. "Such records are easily modified either deliberately or through simple negligence. It would not be impossible for you to transition from a beloved role to an antagonistic one over time, especially as you seem to harbor mild dislike for humans."
Sothis huffed and shook her head.
"It's not that I dislike them," Sothis defended herself. "I am simply wary of a society that–"
Sothis trailed off and wondered if she should really be explaining mass discrimination and the likely death of a child's birth parents to the child in question.
"I can provide more information if you want something to be wary of," Admini offered.
Sothis found herself snickering despite the gloomy subject matter, shook her head, and decided a change in subject might be in order.
"No, it's not important just yet. Shall we practice selective thorn placement?"
A protective cage of thorns wouldn't be the best method of deterring foes, yet it would at least serve to slow them down.
"Yes, please!"
~ ~ ~
As she passed through the gates of Garreg Mach Monastery, Admini did not bother to conceal her wide-eyed glee from her position atop
She had hoped that the Knights of Seiros would be powerful in their own rights, and Garreg Mach fell at the upper boundary of her expectations. It would be more accurate to call Garreg Mach a fortress. Shard-reinforced stone walls towered over surrounding peaks and the comparably fortified town below. The mountainous region had clearly been selected for potential defensibility, and strategically placed forts—albeit ones lacking what Papa said was magical reinforcement—would maximize the defensive advantages granted by such terrain. Humans atop non-sapient wyverns and pegasi patrolled the skies and would make both military assault and espionage significantly harder for any foes.
Even the local populace had clearly been primed to assist in fighting off enemy invaders. Numerous statues were depicted wielding sharp weaponry of slightly unusual shape; inquiry revealed them to be statues of the Four Saints, or less commonly, the Ten Elites. Such high-visibility militant imagery linked to their religion would make mass recruitment delightfully easy when fighting against any opposing polity. QA also expected it to boost recruitment in times of peace: most citizens within the town would pass such statues more than once in any given day. Even after excluding the fliers, it was uncommon for there to be any less than two steel-armored knights within Admini's line-of-sight at any given time.
The religious pilgrims required more assessment, but were generally still a net positive. Both enemy and allied intelligence agents would have an excellent excuse to enter Garreg Mach; however, the majority of visitors would present a sympathetic means of spreading announcements and policies throughout the continent of Fódlan.
The market at the entrance to the monastery was smaller and far more expensive than those of the town outside, yet those prices may have been justified via interesting luxury items that Admini had never seen. Merchants wishing to ply their wares within the Monastery's walls would be first in the line of fire should it be attacked, and would be grateful to the Church after a successful defense. The high number of passerby also made it a rather prestigious and advantageous trading location; it was likely that favors or high tithes were extracted in exchange for the right to establish operations within the monastery market.
Numerous chokepoints, elevated defensive positions, and yet more walls would all ensure a protracted battle even if the outermost monastery walls fell. As Admini continued further and further into the Monastery, it became increasingly clear that the architects had specifically prioritized long-term defensibility during construction. If necessary, the second half of the monastery could be severed from the first by destroying the connecting bridge over several hundred meters of empty space. Sustainability would, however, be a concern in that particular scenario: the supplementary gardens did not appear large enough to sustain monastery forces indefinitely in the event of a siege—at least, not without shard assistance.
QA looked forward to providing that assistance and subverting as much of the organization as possible.
A priestess in white robes intercepted Admini and Papa near the entrance to the main cathedral and discreetly ushered them up a nearby flight of stairs. One of the two knights guarding the area in question almost saluted before a look from Papa stopped the motion. Apparently, at least some of the Knights of Seiros still remembered and recognized him even in worn travel leathers.
Archival note: Papa may have kept significantly more power than he implied or knew. Issue reminder if other factions attempt to ignore him.
Archbishop Rhea stood by the window and looked away from the pilgrims below moments after Jeralt entered with Admini holding his hand. Queen Administrator had not, however, expected the archbishop to possess pale-green hair to contrast QA's own grass-green hair. QA wondered if the precedent set by the Four Saints led to associations between that particular hair color and perceived personal piety. If so, she wouldn't be surprised if a statistically significant number of the faithful chose to dye their own hair.
Archival note: Track the incidence rates of green hair among the greater population.
Archbishop Rhea's regal attire only reinforced Queen Administrator's desire to subvert her and the organization she led. Fortunately, it seemed as though she intended to make subversion quite easy; the archbishop swiftly crossed the intervening distance, knelt, and engulfed Admini in a hug. The shard hadn't even been able to offer the flowers she held in both hands.
"I'm so glad that you're alive and well," Archbishop Rhea murmured. Judging by her physical behavior and tone,
If she had been hugging Sothis, then Queen Administrator would have leaned back just far enough to establish eye contact. However, she didn't know if Rhea would interpret that movement negatively or as a challenge. It would be safer to remain still and maintain the hug. Unfortunately, the flowers were currently more of a detriment in that regard; Queen Administrator could not return the gesture without first dropping them.
"Thank you for the welcome, Archbishop Rhea. However, it wasn't particularly scary. Papa's concealment strategy may not have been viable on a long-term basis, yet it seems to have been adequate thus far."
The archbishop went unusually still for a moment before she shifted to look up at Jeralt. She still didn't release Admini from the hug and even began stroking Admini's hair, although the shard didn't mind. The only potentially problematic area laid in her hands momentarily pausing against Admini's hidden ears.
"Yeah," Jeralt sighed. "She's been like that since soon after her birthday. I can't say it's bad, although it definitely took some getting used to. Just act like you're talking to a very tiny teen who doesn't get figures of speech."
Rhea slowly inhaled and exhaled before answering.
"Admini, please just call me Rhea. As for you, Jeralt—I do believe I told you that your child was special," Rhea replied evenly. "Did you truly believe that to be a mere platitude?"
Metal clicked and leather creaked as Papa shifted in place.
"There's no safe way for me to answer that," Papa admitted. "I suspect she might be exceeding whatever you expected, though. Those flowers? She grew them in minutes from what should have been mere grass and weeds."
Rhea shifted her hands to Admini's shoulders, leaned back, and glanced at the bundle of multicolored flowers QA promptly held up for inspection. It was difficult to interpret the flicker of emotion that crossed her features. QA was guessing that the difficulty was deliberate; careful control over communicated messages would be useful to a politically powerful individual.
"Should' is just a matter of opinion, Papa," QA corrected. "I can make more if you like them, Rhea! It's not very hard when I'm a dragon."
Rhea's visage was overcome with shock, and her suddenly clenching hands painfully squeezed Admini's shoulders. The shard had barely released her automatic "Ow!" when horror replaced the shock and Rhea withdrew. Admini was fairly confident that the horror was from harming her, however, not because of the draconian transformation. Rhea's next words only confirmed that hypothesis.
"Please forgive me—I would never hurt you deliberately," Rhea rushed to explain, cradling her hands to her own chest like they had sustained the damage themselves. "I can heal any harm if you'll allow the contact needed."
"Apology accepted," Admini swiftly said before Papa could get upset on her behalf. She couldn't let him sabotage such a useful level of attachment. "Healing would be appreciated; it might bruise otherwise."
A golden glow suffused Rhea's palms, and the archbishop laid them atop the aching areas she'd damaged moments before. Queen Administrator watched with keen interest and tried to memorize the exact color of the healing light. It might be important later.
"Is it true that other people can't turn into dragons? Papa said normal humans can't do that."
Rhea finished her healing and momentarily glanced up at Papa before she answered.
"Normal humans cannot. The favored children of the goddess are not so limited. However, nearly all of Her favored were tragically slain before the Church was founded and–"
Rhea choked off and blinked rapidly.
"Not a story for children, I think," she decided aloud, returning to the gentle tone that served as her version of neutrality. "Suffice to say you should avoid transforming before anyone apart from myself or your father unless absolutely necessary. There are sealed caverns within the mountain that you might use to practice and play."
Queen Administrator's eyes flicked to where Rhea's ears might be were they not hidden by long locks of hair, portions of her headdress, and ornamental white flowers. This initial conversation was too valuable for her to recklessly risk Divine Pulse usage, but this seemed important. Papa might be excluded if she waited to ask.
"Will you be transforming, too?"
There was no compromising flicker of surprise on Rhea's end, only a wry smile. She did look up to
"I'm afraid that I'd be a little too large for that," Rhea admitted, and immediately ignored Jeralt's sudden coughing fit. "Regardless, I'm sure that you're both hungry from your long journey. Would you like something to eat? And perhaps a nap? I've had rooms prepared for you and your father, Admini, although your new clothes likely won't be ready until you wake."
"Now, hold on," Papa interrupted. "You can't just go running off after saying something like that."
"You mean like your own egress after the fire?" Rhea asked with false sweetness, gathering Admini into her arms and standing up. "If you wanted answers, perhaps you shouldn't have lied to me and fled with the most important child in existence."
Papa stepped aside and defensively raised both hands as Rhea stalked past him. Being carried by someone other than Papa felt weird, Admini admitted, but it was worth it to cultivate their alliance.
"I'm actually just wondering why you didn't transform any of the times I've helped protect you from attackers on the road," Jeralt lied, clearly wishing to demand more. "Your magic is powerful, don't get me wrong, but a giant dragon would've been much easier to defend."
Rhea slowed to a stop beside Jeralt and established eye contact. Unfortunately, Admini's position in Rhea's arms prevented QA from reading whatever expression accompanied the subsequent retort.
"The only modern 'dragons' known outside tales are vicious demonic beasts. The remainder are hidden or dead. I might assume that role were it necessary to destroy an opposing army; nothing less would be worth the consequences."
And with that promising comment, Rhea opened the door and stalked away. Admini rejected the urge to ask for a demonstration now that additional witnesses were present in the form of the knights falling in behind them.
"How big of an army?" she instead asked.
Rhea laughed lightly.
"Large enough that you need not worry, little one."
Excellent. Admini was glad she'd convinced Papa to bring her here; the archbishop alone made the Church of Seiros worth subverting.
~ ~ ~
As he trailed in the wake of the woman carrying his daughter, Jeralt wondered if returning hadn't been a mistake after all. Admini seemed completely and utterly oblivious to the obsession in Rhea's eyes or her uncharacteristically rapid mood changes. How did he explain the dangers when he still didn't know them himself?
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Chapter 4: Vainglory
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, @fictionfan, @Adephagia, @DaGeek247, @Wordsmith, @LonelyWolf999, Jamie Wahls, @Elfalpha, @BunnyLord, @Drcatspaw, and my 18 other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic "Thank you" to @Torgamous for her patronage as well. Also, if you're not on here, you fit the tier, and you want to be added, please tell me. >.>
Admini's local vessel was not yet wholly calibrated to reduce the impact of simple stimuli on her emotions. Devouring the delicious roast pheasant provided by Rhea made her happy. Sitting on Rhea's lap and using the disguised dragon as a comfortable heat source made her happy. Having her head and hair continuously petted made her happy. She had even been promised cute new clothes of white and blue, and Admini was pleased by the likely boost to social perceptions such attire would allow.
It was during Admini's post-meal dozing that she realized her happiness had consequences: she actually liked Rhea. Any budding affection would need to be carefully managed, Admini knew, and it certainly couldn't be allowed to progress to love. Such an overriding emotion could lead to
Humans and their evolutionary relatives often seemed delighted to have small animals of different species fall asleep atop their laps. Admini, as a cute small animal of the same species, expected that Rhea would be even happier if Admini took a little nap. Besides, sleeping was arguably important for Admini's vessel despite her ongoing attempts to upgrade it.
~ ~ ~
Rhea continued to stroke
And Admini was Sothis reborn, Rhea was certain. Sothis had once told Rhea of her first attempts to create life from barren desert, of grasses and wildflowers in every color the goddess thought of. It could not be a coincidence that Admini should start the same way when there were now so many other forms of life to use as inspiration.
...Rhea should probably keep an eye out for carnivorous plants, shouldn't she? She could still remember Sothis's tales of one of the only forms of life that the goddess had ever called mistakes.
Rhea shook her head and reluctantly pried her attention away from Admini and to the other individual in the room. Jeralt. Rhea had placed him on one of the most uncomfortable chairs that she could find, and she noted with some satisfaction that he seemed incapable of finding a comfortable position. It was a petty form of revenge, certainly, but harsher forms of punishment seemed excessive when he'd clearly been doing his utmost to care for Admini.
Rhea would be quite surprised if he wouldn't take a sword for "his" daughter, actually. That kind of loyalty was useful, but also had the potential to be problematic. Jeralt would have been happy to raise Admini among a band of wandering mercenaries without any of the 'political nonsense' that Jeralt despised. Rhea would need to prove that her own expertise took precedence over whatever parenting ideas he still harbored.
Rhea was still unhappy with him, however, so she waited to speak until he was in the middle of drinking directly from a wine bottle. He should know better by now.
"Admini is the goddess reborn," Rhea said idly, as though discussing the weather.
Rhea felt a flicker of petty satisfaction as Jeralt choked on his drink and spat some of it back into the bottle.
"Thats, uh," Jeralt choked out. "Really not what I expected you to say. At all."
"You made that quite clear when you ran off with her," Rhea said serenely, and was gratified to see guilt cross his features. "Admini possesses knowledge she was not exposed to, a grasp of logical arguments which even you admit is akin to an adult's, specific physical traits not explained by her parentage, and abilities not seen since her prior incarnation. Perhaps she won't regain her memories until the Millennium Festival, yet I do believe we'll still have our hands full until then."
Jeralt almost raised one sleeve to dab at his mouth before he noticed Rhea's gaze. She hadn't even intended to harass him about his usual lack of manners, but he did switch to using a handkerchief instead. Perhaps Rhea could finally teach him proper manners with Admini's aid.
"My guess was some manner of Saint," Jeralt reluctantly admitted. "I'm not saying I disagree, mind you, but a claim to divinity is the sort of thing folks'll need evidence for. The Church has burned people for less."
Rhea raised both eyebrows. In all honesty, she had been expecting far more resistance. Admini must have challenged his prior expectations much more than Rhea had realized.
"Sothis regrew much of this world from irradiated—" Rhea paused upon realizing that Jeralt lacked any reference for the lasting consequences of nuclear weaponry. "That is to say, toxic wastelands. Admini will not be lacking for power with which to erase doubt. The issues lay in ensuring that she lives long enough to regain her powers, and that she is properly protected in her sleep."
Rhea wondered if it would be too morbid to gift to Admini the sword made from her prior incarnation's spine. Best not to, Rhea decided. Effective a weapon it may be, yet the memories and motivations behind its creation were anything but pleasant.
"A promise of future miracles still won't be enough to convince the faithful," Jeralt pointed out. "And you won't exactly be leaving her alone, yeah? People'll notice the Archbishop spending so much time with one child."
It truly was a shame that Jeralt held so much disdain for politics, Rhea felt. He could be an excellent right hand were it not for his tendency to consider actions only in terms of how they could affect a military campaign or his charges. The manipulation of interpersonal relationships, honor, slights, etiquette, and favors were all concepts he didn't care to study; possible effects on morale and loyalty were his chosen substitutes.
"And I'm getting the feeling you won't want to pass up the opportunity presented by the Officers' Academy," Jeralt continued. "Which means a cover story that'll have those noble brats treating her like an actual person rather than scum on their shoes. Are you planning to acknowledge her as a 'Saint' after all?"
"Close," Rhea acknowledged. "However, I'm afraid doing so would hold Admini to an unreasonable standard. I would prefer to instead acknowledge her as the next leader of the Church. The populace will simply assume I mean the next Archbishop."
Jeralt blinked.
"Okay, I can see how that could help with alliances, but I'm not so sure about the legitimacy aspect. There were already people thinking Admini was your bastard and making her your successor won't help any. That kind of doubt would cloud any later claims."
Rhea closed her eyes and reminded herself that Jeralt had missed Sothis's life by about a thousand years. Scriptures and sermons failed to convey the aura of sheer power one could once feel from Sothis's mere presence.
"Admini will be more than capable of convincing them once she regains her old power and wisdom."
"And if she doesn't?" Jeralt challenged. "We're talking enough power to reshape the world and thousands of years of memories. I'm guessing the goddess hadn't been born of two humans the first time around, right? That seems like it could be just a bit of a barrier."
She's hardly human anymore, is she?
Rhea took a deep breath and traced Admini's pointed ears for comfort. Jeralt was not challenging Rhea, only her assumptions. It was a reasonable question; there was no guarantee that mortal flesh could safely hold or channel all the powers and knowledge that Sothis once possessed. Rhea harbored little doubt that Admini would regain all that she had lost, yet Jeralt was correct about their lack of guarantees.
Did Rhea truly need for humans to acknowledge Admini as Sothis reborn? No. Rhea just wanted to have a family once more. Admini need not possess all her former powers for that; just being back was enough.
"Then I'm sure she would still make a fine Archbishop," Rhea acknowledged.
Perhaps Rhea might even be allowed to properly rest and recuperate at some point. She hadn't gotten so much as a year-long nap in centuries and it was becoming increasingly difficult to retain coherent thought. It wouldn't do for Rhea to dissolve into animalistic rage when she'd finally gotten her mother back.
~ ~ ~
Jeralt kept an uncomfortable smile upon his face and all his anxieties locked deep inside. Rhea really had gone off the deep end, hadn't she? None of her evidence ruled out "ordinary" sainthood for Admini, yet Rhea had jumped straight to calling his daughter Sothis reborn. Thank the goddess that Jeralt had been able to temper Rhea's expectations; she'd apparently handled her earlier disappointment and grief by purging large parts of the continent. Even her current instability was an improvement over that.
He really wasn't looking forward to all the courting attempts and betrothal offers that Rhea's successor plan would inspire, though. Jeralt thought that he would at least have a decade and change before he would need to start threatening those seeking Admini's hand. Sadly, nobles seldom wanted to wait that long when it came to betrothals. Who cared what the kids thought, right?
…And he wouldn't be able to threaten the heirs of major polities without causing a major diplomatic incident, would he? Drat. How was he supposed to perform his duties as a father if threats of severe bodily harm were off the table?
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Chapter 5: Gluttony
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, @fictionfan, @Adephagia, @DaGeek247, @Wordsmith, @Taut_Templar, Jamie Wahls, @Elfalpha, @BunnyLord, @Drcatspaw, @Conspiracy, @tinkerware, and my 17 other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic "Thank you" to @Torgamous for her patronage as well. Also, if you're not on here, you fit the tier, and you want to be added, please tell me. >.>
Beta-read by @Nachtigall.
Beta-read by @Nachtigall.
There were caverns within Garreg Mach which had gone practically untouched for centuries. They were places in which Rhea might carry out rituals away from the eyes of meddling followers, or allow her family to rest for decades should they ever accept that resting within the monastery was far safer than the outside world. In recent centuries, she had seldom touched them beyond checking the wards to verify that none had found and intruded upon her private sanctums.
If
Or rather, she quickly corrected herself, it is the humans who turned Her gifts into flaws.
Nabateans might have been made and birthed in Sothis's own preferred image, yes, but She was a goddess. She could make changes. Defenses against the desecration of their blood and bone were foremost among Rhea's wishes. The strength of Nabateans was a gift, of course, but it was one that could be stolen and humans had certainly proven themselves savage and monstrous enough to do so. Rhea was not so arrogant as to assume that humanity would not repeat their sins if they were given the option.
Rhea's budding agitation rapidly faded in the face of another hiccup from Sothis's new incarnation. The newest pink-stemmed orange flowers with silver thorns were about as far from aesthetically pleasing as one could get, but it was clear that Sothis was not trying to create anything lasting at the moment. The magically preserved bouquet in Rhea's rooms revealed that She could manage attractive creations without issue when She wished to do so. These were clearly mere practice and an exploration of Her abilities. The presence of those abilities was rapidly kindling hope within Rhea's heart, too. She had long hoped for the return of Sothis at Her full strength, but a thousand years of failures introduced an undercurrent of doubt. Rhea told herself that having Mother back at all would be enough, and she still believed such. However, it now seemed all-but certain that Sothis would regain all that She had lost in time.
Watching Admini, Rhea felt contentment slowly settle upon her like a blanket warmed by the hearth. She almost felt as though she could doze off then and there. The slight pain of the headdress still concealing her ears reminded her that sleep was not yet an option. Rhea was close to being able to rest, yes, but she would need to wait until Sothis had regained full use of Her powers.
Rhea blinked upon realizing that
"How much time do I have available before we need to vacate the area due to a scheduled search?" Admini asked, Her calm at odds with the lingering happiness on Her features.
Rhea paused at that. She thought she had made it clear they would not be disturbed here. She supposed that Admini might have thought Rhea meant only unexpected interruptions rather than anyone arriving at all.
"You and I are the only individuals alive who know of this place," Rhea reassured her. "We may stay for as long as you want."
For a moment, Rhea entertained the idea of simply keeping Sothis within the mountain until She had returned to Her full strength. But no, both human and Nabatean children required far too much care to keep Her truly hidden, to say nothing of what the lack of sunlight might do to Her. Sothis was so very fond of making sunlight an essential component for good health. Why shouldn't She? It was one of the easiest resources to provide.
"The search patterns of knights are preset and do not include these secret areas?" Admini asked slowly.
The question was uttered in a perfectly calm tone, but Rhea was still stuck with the sinking sensation of having done something wrong without knowing what. Mother was so seldom harsh when expressing disappointment; knowing that She was disappointed with the errant individual was often punishment enough. The Archbishop took a deep breath, clasped her hands beneath her robes, and reminded herself that Sothis had yet to return to Her full power and wisdom. Admini could, and had, repeated old mistakes.
Perhaps Rhea would believe this was one of those cases if she thought it enough times.
"There are a great many hidden sanctums that might yet delay attackers for a few hours more in the event of an invasion," Rhea elaborated. "Or caches that may go untouched and unknown altogether until Garreg Mach can be reclaimed."
Admini's face twisted in exasperation, and a flicker of enlightenment dawned upon Rhea. The Goddess Reborn was concerned about the possibility of additions, was She not? She overestimated humans, Rhea felt. Even the quietest of their earth-molding magics was quite loud, and she had seen to it that such an incursion would be noticed either from above or below.
"Are you concerned by the possibility of others exploiting the absence of additional checks?" Rhea asked, and smiled gently. "I believe I can offer some reassurances on that front. Those on the surface would stumble across any tunneling attempts in progress, and those below have been provided with generous financial incentives to report any incursions or information worthy of note. They have proven to be an exceptionally effective supplement to my more loyal intelligence agents and well worth tolerating."
"Below?"
Rhea started to incline her head in assent before remembering that Admini had been raised by mercenaries thus far. It felt absurd and alien for her to turn the motion into a full-fledged nod, but she bore the discomfort for the sake of clarity.
"Many of the old areas beneath Garreg Mach have been contaminated by magical research, errant magical defenses, and the evidence of past mistakes," Rhea explained. "This realm, known to its denizens as the 'Abyss,' is a veritable maze that has claimed the lives of many would-be treasure hunters in the past. The passage of time rendered it only marginally safer, and it currently contains markets providing... less than legal goods and services. Fugitives from surrounding countries and those too impoverished to afford lodgings atop the mountain also reside within."
The criminal element was an inevitability in any human settlement of sufficient size, Rhea had found. Best to have the beating heart within arm's reach so that it might be crushed if necessary, and financial incentives provided to their leaders so that elimination would not be needed.
...Ah, but Admini's eyes were growing even wider. That was not a good sign. The subsequent look as though Sothis were reevaluating her intelligence hurt more than Rhea wished to admit, too. It wasn't as though she had any perfect options available to her; she had done her best in this wretched and painfully imperfect world left by Sothis's demise!
"Illusions can make noise. They can therefore cancel noise with sufficient tuning,"
"Humans are a community species and will frequently prioritize social bonds over financial incentives, especially if accepting the latter is seen as some sort of betrayal. If that is insufficient, then assassination or simple old age are both viable tools through which enemies may ensure that elements sympathetic to them are placed in positions of power. It is not safe to assume that networks outside your control will remain allied over the course of a longer timespan. Ongoing supervision is required.
"The visible wealth of the surface is also an issue. Denizens of this 'Abyss' will likely develop resentment, jealousy, and the urge to take Garreg Mach's wealth for themselves. This issue will only be exacerbated by any poverty below ground. This is not a sustainable state of affairs. Garreg Mach cannot be called secure while such a blatant vulnerability exists within its walls."
Rhea felt a small frown gradually form. She still believed that the Abyss was a worthwhile venture in the long term, but Sothis was correct: short-term security took priority until She regained full use of Her powers. Risk mitigation would be more important until then.
"Reclaiming the Abyss would be an expensive venture," Rhea warned, "and one which would provide even more reason for its current inhabitants to loathe us—and you in particular, should the changes be linked to your introduction. People can become quite dangerous when they feel they have nothing to lose."
A stab of age-old agony flickered through her at that and was almost reflexively buried. As she stared at her Mother reborn, however, Rhea realized that the agony was unnecessary and felt her chest slowly unclench without the need for such entombment.
Mother is alive!
She was so distracted by her dizzying rush of giddiness that she almost missed Admini's next words.
"That should not be necessary. I can personally mitigate the threat in a manner which should also serve as a suitable introduction to this world."
Rhea's giddiness was overtaken by a sudden and perfectly reasonable surge of dread. She doubted that she would like where this was going.
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Chapter 6: Envy
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, @fictionfan, @Adephagia, @DaGeek247, @Wordsmith, @Taut_Templar, Jamie Wahls, @Elfalpha, @BunnyLord, @Drcatspaw, @Conspiracy, @tinkerware, @Lonelywolf999, D'awwctor, @magicdownunder, and my 16 other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic "Thank you" to @Torgamous for her patronage as well. Also, if you're not on here, you fit the tier, and you want to be added, please tell me.
Beta-read by @curiosity .
Beta-read by @curiosity .
"Absolutely not."
Queen Administrator tilted her head to signal incomprehension. Rhea had said she would agree to Admini's proposal if Jeralt also agreed. Admini had, at the time, taken it as a sign of approval. She was starting to suspect it was instead a method of using Jeralt as a sacrifice. Despite her instability, Rhea had managed to maintain the foremost religious organization on the continent for over a thousand years. It was a moderately impressive feat for someone possessing a brain so small that it could easily forget its own existence. They barely even recorded their own compositions, and their storage format was horrifyingly error-ridden.
"I can see no better way to introduce me to the local public, and a humanitarian mission is currently well within my capabilities," justified Queen Administrator. "I do not need to be in close contact with any members of the public. They need only be close enough to see me create the new plants."
Jeralt closed his eyes and raised one hand to pinch his forehead between three fingers.
"Yeah, I didn't think you'd accept the flat refusal from your old man. Look, I don't think we should be revealing you at all for a few more years. Rumors about you will accumulate, sure, but people won't dedicate as many resources toward investigating a weird orphan compared to those spent on Rhea's successor. I was under the impression Rhea agreed with me there."
"She may be using you as a sacrifice so that she need not deny me herself," QA admitted. "Or she expected you to address any security concerns while believing the idea to be workable in general. Regardless, the Abyss remains a liability in dire need of mitigation. Ready access to food-bearing plants will vastly increase foot traffic and vastly reduce misbehavior borne of starvation."
"Until some b—uh, some guys decide to pick all the fruits for themselves and sell them at a profit. Kid, you can't just put something valuable out in the open and expect everyone to share it. Heck, you might even make people more resentful when it goes awry. In their eyes, it would just display your ignorance of their lives and the issues they face."
Queen Administrator wrinkled her nose. She would prefer to have the plants internally store their fruits and only ration out a set number to each unique individual within a specific timeframe. Such measures were far too complicated for her current level of magical skill, however. Perhaps when she was older.
"I am not planning to place the vines in a centralized area. The Abyss has more than enough earth for my creations to grow unseen and sporadically send a tendril into an accessible area. Those reliant upon the vines for food will be able to search and scavenge even should others be picked barren."
"Oh, geeze," Papa muttered, dropping his hands to intently stare at QA. "Yeah, you shouldn't be encouraging explorations down there. It's not just the criminals you need to worry about; there are monsters, unstable floors and ceilings, toxic mold, and all sorts of other nastiness. Only the greedy and the desperate spend any amount of time in the Abyss."
"Understood. Possible alternative: I could make the fruits decay rapidly after their removal," QA proposed, then hesitated. She did not know how to halt such decay after ingestion. Not with plants born of magic. "No, disregard my prior statement; I could not make it safe for consumption. Alternative proposal: A centralized set of vines and/or trees with armed guards."
"At that point you might as well just keep it above ground," Papa disagreed, then stopped and blinked. "Remind me why you're not doing that? I'm sure Rhea could scrounge up plenty of volunteers happy to deliver fruit with a probable side of preaching. Charitable efforts are a favored pastime of the goddess's faithful."
"I intended to make the fruits increase one's desire for sunlight," QA admitted. "Additionally, it is important to acclimate the Abyss's denizens to the sight of widespread vine networks. They may otherwise fight against my eventual introduction of security vines prior to those vines reaching critical mass."
Jeralt blinked slowly.
"Security vines," he said oddly.
"Exact plant-form to be determined at a later date," acknowledged the shard. "The Abyss must be reclaimed and secured in its entirety if Garreg Mach is to be considered properly secure. The human and material costs of attempting this normally are prohibitive and would introduce significant upkeep. However, I expect I will be able to create fireproof plants approximately as difficult to break as stone within the next several years. Ideally, a full plant network would need to be continuously cut away in order for intruders to progress. Carnivorous plants may be introduced behind initial defenses so as to render incursions from below untenable."
Jeralt frowned slightly and glanced away from
"The Abyss has always been a security nightmare," Papa reluctantly admitted. "Rhea always said the alternatives were worse, but if you two think there's finally a good solution..."
"Alright. Alright. I'll try to find a way to make it work, but we're planning this properly instead of just having Rhea use me as a scapegoat. I do know I'll be much more comfortable if you can make it so you only need to visit the Abyss once—or better yet, not at all. Can you make seeds?"
Admini rotated her head to signal a negative, and Jeralt slowly blew air out between his lips. Queen Administrator amended her statement before he could finish the signal.
"I cannot make seeds yet, but I am confident that I will be able to do so eventually. I believe it is a matter of skill, not magical limitations."
Papa smiled and relaxed the muscles of his face.
"Right, right. Everything had to come from something," he muttered, then raised his voice. "I wanna say we should still stall until you're older, but that's the father speaking. Helping those in the Abyss avoid starvation–"
Jeralt faltered, blinked, and suddenly stood up. He did not explain the comment about "the father speaking." Admini had been under the impression that normal humans could only run one consciousness at a time, not multiple specialized versions. However, she would not be especially surprised if this impression was incorrect. The fact that humans could fit a consciousness developed by chance on such a small amount of hardware, however inferior and inefficient that consciousness may be, was itself impressive; their brains were just so tiny. Fitting more than one wouldn't be much worse by then. It took Admini a moment to realize that it was likely yet another confusing figure of speech rather than evidence for or against mental resource partitioning or multiple configurations.
"Alright, scapegoat time is over. We need to include Rhea in this conversation."
~ ~ ~
Admini hadn't lasted through their report to Rhea. It wasn't too surprising that she should be lured to sleep when the adults were discussing a subject she already knew about, but Jeralt still found it bemusing. The timing, even more so.
"Please do not produce any more carnivorous plants. You used to call them 'mistakes.'"
Admini stared up in silence for several seconds before closing her eyes, slumping back, and abruptly falling asleep.
Admini stared up in silence for several seconds before closing her eyes, slumping back, and abruptly falling asleep.
Rhea stared down at the peacefully sleeping child with blatant bewilderment and growing concern.
"Yeah," Jeralt drawled, "she does this every so often. She definitely knows why, but she also won't explain beyond saying she's fine."
Rhea obviously forced herself to relax despite still being obviously displeased by the lacking explanation. Some stiffness still persisted for the better part of a silent minute, the two of them watching Admini's slumbering form, before the forced relaxation finally became genuine.
"It could be compensation for the frailty of her vessel," Rhea proposed, smiling in just the right way to make unease raise the hairs on Jeralt's neck. "It is impressive that She already has such control over Her powers at such a young age."
Jeralt could hear the capitalized pronouns in that sentence and he didn't like it. He just couldn't imagine inquisitive little Admini, his daughter, as the distant goddess Sothis. As far as he was concerned–
"I'm still not sold on that idea. Creation of life might have been Sothis' sole dominion in the past, yeah, but that was a thousand years ago. New age, new miracles for Saints."
Jeralt caught the flickers of rage on Rhea's face, and decided this had gone on long enough. Rhea couldn't have it both ways, couldn't stamp out any hints of disagreement with Church dogma while effectively espousing differences herself.
"Honestly, calling her the goddess reborn sounds like the kind of heresy you'd normally kill someone over. But let's say you're right. Issue is, Admini doesn't remember being Her, and my daughter isn't exactly a pinnacle of wisdom right now. She might not even grow up to believe the same things as last time. Pretty sure thinking of her as Sothis reborn will breed problematic expectations and pressure her to act a certain way."
The half-hidden anger gave way to surprise, and Rhea's rage soon smoothed into her obviously reluctant 'you have a point but I hate it' face. Most people would see only serenity, but he hadn't served Rhea for over a century without getting to know some of her tells.
"Sothis did always tell—did always say to look toward the upbringing of a child rather than their blood alone," Rhea reluctantly admitted. "If Admini does not remember her past, and her mortal vessel is too weak to allow the full use of her powers…"
The uncharacteristic near-slip about telling raised questions that Jeralt had been trying to ignore. Either there was some divine book of childcare that he'd never heard of, or—well, Jeralt wasn't quite to the point of seriously thinking that Rhea might have known Sothis. But with Rhea's age—and the severe lack of age she showed—he wouldn't be surprised if the archbishop was only a few generations removed from Saint Seiros with words passed from parent to child.
Rhea's reluctance gave way to acceptance suspiciously quickly, and Jeralt braced himself for something else insane but possibly somewhat correct.
"Admitting her nature would only invite a schism," Rhea sighed. "It was foolish to assume that Fódlan would behave themselves on the basis of the truth alone. They certainly didn't before."
Jeralt might have imagined a momentary twitch in Rhea's hands. After the way she'd squeezed Admini's shoulders hard enough to hurt his daughter, he wasn't willing to give that much leeway. Especially not with Admini's slumbering form still stuck in Rhea's lap.
"So, what's the actual plan these days?" Jeralt asked, propping both elbows on the table and leaning forward. "I'm not sure the 'successor' plan really holds up if Admini is going to start making life in front of witnesses, feeding the hungry, and—well, being herself. Especially since the idea of feeding the Abyss got me thinking. The Abyss isn't anything approaching fertile ground, you know? Don't get much more than mosses and mold down there. And here Admini is, confident that she can ignore all that to feed the masses. Why stop with the Abyss? I can't think of many things that would feed belief—pun proudly intended—than bringing life to barren earth, and then having that life feed the peasantry long afterward."
He warmed to his subject the longer he thought about it. Such a display, one that brought persistent changes across Fódlan, would draw the attention of everyone on the continent. At the same time, though, the changes would be massive enough to erase doubt.
"You're the one who knows politics and schemers," Jeralt continued. "So tell me: doesn't that sound big enough for us to just ignore scandals and rumors until she's old enough to pull it off? Assuming she can, at least, but she was way too confident for me to think otherwise."
Despite his words, doubts started percolating within seconds. Yeah, it would let Admini stay hidden and grow up in safe secrecy, but Admini might be wrong about her own limits. Basing their plans off something she might not be able to manage? That felt increasingly risky the longer he thought about it.
Rhea didn't immediately answer, but the lack of a prompt response felt like a good sign for once.
"Doubts pull away the foundations of belief like stones taken from a tower's base," Rhea eventually replied. "We cannot ignore them entirely. But you are correct: bringing life to the barren should not be beyond her, and such a display would excuse any prior recalcitrance in explaining my interest in her."
Rhea was silent for several more seconds before the serenity finally gave way to a nostalgic smile.
"I expect it will be some years yet before she can create such crops individually, let alone in clusters. These are no flowers and grasses made solely to sustain their own existence without regard for reproduction or efficiency. She cannot properly replace food without including a variety of amino—"
Rhea appeared to remember who she was speaking with, cut herself off, and resumed a moment later. Jeralt mentally added amino on a list of terms he would try to research later. It always felt a bit humiliating when Rhea needed to dumb down her explanations for him.
"You are aware of how life can become sickly if it consumes only a single food, however filling that food may seem? I do not expect that it will be easy for Admini's crops to replace as many foods as possible even if she separates them into multiple complementary strains."
The archbishop's smile gradually gave way to another frown.
"They will also need to defend themselves from disease, and plants that are viable food for people would also be prime targets for such infection. Existence is an eternal competition for resources, and the more I recall of biology, the less confident I am that we can truly wait for Admini to relearn all the lessons she knew as Sothis. Much of the more noxious life in this world was accidental, and recklessness will only add to that list."
Jeralt winced. He was so used to his daughter accomplishing the impossible that he'd somehow forgotten that the category of usually impossible must itself have a sliding scale of difficulty, even for one blessed by Sothis. At least Admini seemed to have overestimated herself, too.
"Alright, so we don't need to escort her into the Abyss any time soon. I'll look into getting some eyes and ears down there, but other security problems I should know about?"
He wondered if Rhea was still aware enough to realize that her purges were on his list of new problems. Resentful friends and relatives, posts left unattended… yeah, he really wished she hadn't gone off the deep end like that. The last several days had been a sobering lesson on what his arson and flight had caused. For now, he fought his guilt with the knowledge that Rhea might have committed even worse atrocities if she continued hiding Admini's nature with only the archbishop's own increasingly irrational counsel as guidance. It was a temporary fix, he knew, but he was an old hand at drowning guilt in alcohol.
"I'm afraid so," Rhea admitted, and Jeralt could have sighed in relief. Not so far gone that she thought everything was fine, then. "A great many hidden sanctuaries, passages, and supply caches are scattered throughout the monastery, and I believed nobody else alive knew of them. Similarly, the monastery is centuries old and the center of the Church's power. Many hidden places undoubtably remain untouched and unknown, but concealing their existence has undeniably prevented the Knights of Seiros from searching for any additions."
Happy feelings gone.
"You are very, very lucky that hasn't bitten us well before now," Jeralt began, then stopped.
He could blame his bit of arson on the idea of people who had exploited this security hole. He knew he was a shit liar, though, and the last thing he wanted was Rhea looking for more people to purge–
Sothis, could you please help your archbishop back to sanity? Or, dammit, is that supposed to be Admini's job? Trust Jeralt to muck things up so badly that it interfered with the goddess's own plans.
"The fire," Rhea hissed, and Jeralt wanted to slap himself. He really should've kept talking about plugging those security holes instead of letting Rhea think about why he might have gone silent.
A moment passed in exceedingly uncomfortable silence while Rhea wrestled her expression back into something vaguely approaching sanity rather than the incandescent rage of moments before. He absolutely was not going to try confessing and throwing himself on her mercy, nope. Never. He'd take it to his deathbed.
"Jeralt," Rhea started, and he obligingly snapped to attention. That was the war leader voice, not the mask of a kindly archbishop. "You are far too intelligent not to have realized that I am not human."
Jeralt blinked at the apparent change in subject. He'd thought she would tell him to round up a squad and sweep the monastery immediately, not whatever this was. He also chose to omit how she'd basically said exactly that with the whole giant dragon, destroyer of armies comment when they arrived. Did she even remember she'd said that? Rhea was acting like she hadn't.
"I am not the only one of the goddess's favored children to have survived, but I can count the others on one hand."
To have survived. Not alive, not surviving, but speaking of personally having survived. He wasn't going to ignore the part where they'd apparently been "tragically slain before the Church was founded." He didn't think he was reading too much into her choice of wording, not when Rhea kept visibly fighting off grief every time the subject came up.
Dammit. He was too old for this shit. So was Rhea, apparently. So, the archbishop was over a thousand years old. No wonder she kept getting grumpy when he questioned her assessment of whether Admini counted as a Saint or that goddess reborn nonsense.
Or—no, maybe he was reading too much into the exact wording. She could have survived a multi-generational hunt, and really, that seemed more plausible than Rhea being quite that dated.
"I have sent for two of them already, and I expect they will arrive within the year. The other two are rather more difficult, I'm afraid, and I cannot guarantee that a normal messenger will even be capable of reaching them alive."
Oh, Jeralt did not like where this was going.
"Please tell me you don't want me to fight a dragon. Can't we just send one of those first two?"
A trace of humor bled past Rhea's war face.
"I like you far too much to make you fight Maccy. However, we require his expertise in magic, especially that of wind, if we are to locate any gaps in our security. I have confidence in your ability to survive any defenses Maccy might have left active
Maccy. Wind magic. And, of course, there are four of them.
It was the sort of nickname that a young girl might give to her favored relative, and Jeralt wanted to visit a pub and drink until he forgot all about this conversation.
"Rhea, are you sending me to fetch Saint Macuil?" Jeralt asked, unable to dredge up more than resignation.
Rhea had lived for centuries, and Rhea's blood had all-but halted Jeralt's own aging. With immortals on the table, of course the Saints would still be alive. He wasn't even all that surprised at this point. Rhea was, though. She blinked and silently stared at him for several seconds before smiling wryly and nodding.
This time, Jeralt gave into impulse and dropped his head on the table. A surprised laugh escaped Rhea, because of course she would find his suffering funny.
"Isn't that the kind of thing that justifies a visit from the archbishop herself?" Jeralt grumbled, raising his head to halfheartedly glare at her. "'I went and brought back a Saint' is a pretty good reason to vanish from the public eye for a bit."
Rhea blinked at him as though the thought of personally visiting hadn't even occurred to her, and seriously? He knew she'd left Garreg Mach less and less often over the last few decades, but this was ridiculous.
"I need to remain here to welcome two of the others when they arrive," she justified, but it sounded like it was weak even to her ears. "And I'm afraid we cannot use that excuse. Saint Macuil is unlikely to reveal his true identity to the world at large; humans have shown themselves more than willing to slay Sothis's favored children. It is safer to conceal our true identities."
But you're willing to reveal Admini's? That didn't match up. A fifth Saint seemed like as good a justification as any for the other four to reveal themselves.
"Rhea," Jeralt started seriously. "I am going to say something, and you might want to tear my throat out. Before you lunge for me, I'd like to remind you that Admini is on your lap. With that said: is revealing Admini as a Saint so we can keep her safe, or because you still want to announce to the world that Sothis has been reborn?"
Unsurprisingly, Rhea stilled and stared at him, her eyes unblinking and blank. Forget being afraid to move; Jeralt was afraid to breathe and he already regretted saying that while Admini was around. Yeah, Rhea seemed obsessed with her safety, but so what? She wasn't acting like herself.
He breathed a sigh of relief when Rhea exhaled without lunging for his throat.
"I believe I may need to rest more urgently than I had anticipated," Rhea admitted quietly, and Jeralt blinked.
"Alright? You're the Archbishop. Nobody important is going to be mad if you take a few days off."
Rhea smiled, but it was an empty thing.
"Sleeping for a century, however, would pose more problems than I care to count."
Jeralt stared at her and reminded himself that, by her own admission, she wasn't human. Sleeping for that long sounded like the stuff of stories, but he was apparently dealing with someone over a thousand years old.
"When, exactly, did you last sleep?"
Rhea's lips curled slightly, her dead smile turning to something more genuine.
"When was the Church of Seiros founded?" Rhea asked rhetorically. "It would be a few years before then. Fret not; I have Faith."
Jeralt digested this in silence, increasingly horrified with every passing second despite the deliberate pun. He'd seen good men and women die after a few days without sleep, even after being healed. Rhea might not be human, but everything needed to sleep. Or, well, almost everything. He wasn't too sure about bugs or fish.
Sothis, why did it take you this long to have a Saint rescue this woman from herself?
No wonder Rhea was acting increasingly irrational and unstable, and she even seemed to have noticed. Goddess, Rhea had been sleep-deprived for the entire time he'd known her.
"Rhea, please, get some sleep," Jeralt begged. "Prepare to turn leadership of the Church over to one of the Saints when they arrive. You can't say they aren't qualified."
The last traces of emptiness vanished from Rhea's face, and the most powerful woman in Fódlan laughed at him. She started to lean forward as though to pat him, seemingly remembered the child in her lap, and sank back into her seat.
"Your concern is appreciated, Jeralt, but the others won't remember a thousand years of politics or even etiquette. I have managed for this long. I can survive a few decades more."
He thought about raising the recent purges, and how they'd made Admini less safe. He considered the mood swings and the barely-restrained rage that came to the surface all too often. He considered the implication that Rhea was the daughter of Saint Seiros, and had watched her mother die early in the Church's history. Or, although he still didn't want to believe it, that Rhea might be Saint Seiros herself. He suspected her motivations would stay the same.
He didn't think mentioning any of that would convince her, though. He chose to aim for the obsession instead.
"Do you think Admini will agree with you if we wake her up and tell her just how sleep deprived you are?"
It took a second for Rhea to react, and then she looked exactly like a child caught with her hand stuck in a cookie jar. It wasn't an expression Jeralt had ever seen on Rhea and he had trouble keeping his laughter down. He chose to twist the knife instead.
"You're missing details, have mood swings that tend toward rage more often than not, and not everything you're doing is actually helpful. Those recent purges? It was you who told me that tolerating the little heresies kept other people from turning to bigger ones out of anger and a desire for revenge. You forgot all about gaps you deliberately left in searches, and you refused to explain Admini's nature even though I've served you for most of my life and I'm on your side."
Guilt had given way to blankness, but Jeralt knew better than to believe that she'd stopped listening. She would remember everything he said and it might bite him later if he wasn't careful. Looking like that at all meant he should probably soften the blow a bit.
"I'm beyond impressed that you've managed to keep the Church intact for this long. But I think it's time that you trusted the literal Saints to finish up. If we need you for combat purposes, I'd rather that the apparently army-destroying dragon have gotten at least a few years of sleep."
The defensive blankness stayed intact, and Jeralt wondered if he hadn't pushed too hard after all. He'd thought the emotional blow was necessary to convince her, but actually inflicting that damage made him feel like shit.
"Are you quite finished?" Rhea asked evenly, and Jeralt winced. Maybe he hadn't hit hard enough after all.
"I could keep going, actually, but I don't want to keep twisting the knife if this was enough."
Rhea shook her head.
"She is your daughter; I trust you to act in her best interests. I am well aware of the pitfalls in trying to assess my own state and will defer to your evaluation unless a Saint disagrees. I—still intend stay awake until I'm sure that Sothis can defend herself, but I will prepare to step down as Archbishop as soon as I reasonably can."
Jeralt blinked, not expecting her to have actually listened. Partially, at least. She was still refusing to get some goddamn sleep, but he was willing to acknowledge that even this much was an unbelievably massive step forward. He could push the rest of the way when he had the Saints to back him up, because somehow, he really doubted that they would be fine with Rhea sacrificing herself like this.
"Well, uh. Good. In that case, are you willing to put off settling on a general plan for Admini's future until those 'first two' arrive? I'd feel much more comfortable if we had more folks working on a plan than one sleep-deprived archbishop and one knight captain out of his depth."
Rhea relaxed enough for the emotionless mask to crack.
"Saint Macuil?" she reminded Jeralt, and he winced. Right, she still wanted him to retrieve a literal saint.
"Still don't think I'm the best bet for that. It sounds like you know each other and could do some convincing if he's unsure, right? I'm just a stranger. Our current security problems are manageable for a few years now that I know to watch for it; I don't think we need his expertise promptly more than we need me to look after Admini. And I'm guessing you don't want me to bring her along when I go looking, right?"
The flip to a death glare answered that question rather neatly.
"Yeah, I thought not. So let's talk babysitting."
~ ~ ~
"Admini, perhaps you should stop trying to make your creations poisonous to everything save humans? Don't you think the birds should be allowed to eat, too?"
"Yes. They have other food, and I'm not trying to feed birds. This is people food."
Sothis massaged her forehead with both thumbs. She was starting to remember why–
…why…
Sothis restrained the urge to huff with displeasure. She'd almost had that thought, and it had felt important, felt like it would explain what she'd done in life. Now all she could recall was watching a vibrant forest from a flower-filled clearing.
"It sounds like humans can't easily make any life except more of themselves," Admini noted, dragging Sothis from her disgruntled reminiscence.
Oh, it being difficult certainly hadn't stopped them. The distant unhappiness and bitterness from Sothis' vague memories made her feel as though they hadn't used that capability at all responsibly. She couldn't recall specifics, however; all she could do was speak what came to mind and hope that she wasn't teaching Admini falsehoods.
"Of course not. Imagine what would happen if all life could warp the world to favor their own species. It would be utter chaos."
Admini nodded as though she had received confirmation of something she'd already believed.
"Papa knew your name, and your Concept is 'Beginning,'" Admini continued.
"It's more of a title," Sothis corrected, and froze.
Sothis still couldn't grasp more than the faintest flickers of memory from before Admini, but Sothis could still follow her daughter's logic in the present. Admini knew no others who could breathe life into barren soil; only Sothis and Admini could do so. Most creations of creators could not make life different from themselves, and even letting them make more of the same species took extra effort. Sothis was called The Beginning. Although time fell under her domain, time was not the only reason for her title. She was the origin.
Sothis suddenly felt very, very tired, as though the sudden deluge of flashing memories was accompanied by all the weight of water. She stubbornly clung to consciousness—or tried to cling to consciousness. Within moments, her eyes fluttered shut despite her best attempts. Sleep beckoned.
Admini is alone and identified as unique.
Sothis wanted to slap away sleep's offered hand. The narcoleptic amnesiac might be awake more often than she used to be, but the stories Admini told made it clear that Sothis still spent most of Admini's life asleep. More than once, Sothis had been awoken by the reverberating ping of Admini trying to turn back time and needing her mother's assistance to do so.
The slowing of her thoughts stopped; the anger helped Sothis stay awake. Exhaustion numbed even that emotion, however, and she knew she would slip soon if something didn't change. A doomed battle it may be, yet Sothis continued fighting.
Sothis had tried her utmost to teach Admini what felt most natural, and may have sent Admini to a den of exploitative vipers in the process. She was trying to help Admini, not set her up to fall the same way Sothis had. Sothis knew very well that she was viewing the world through the viewing slit of a child's explanations. Sothis heard a mere fraction of events in Admini's waking life and could do distressingly little with that information while awake, but she could do even less while asleep!
Sothis's limbs felt numb and heavy, her eyes refused to open, and she was in imminent danger of falling asleep at any moment. With her body unresponsive, anger drove her to do something arguably rather foolish.
Sothis wrapped her own heart in an immaterial grip and squeezed.
~ ~ ~ ~
For the first time that Sothis could remember—reliably, at least—unforgiving stone did not dig into any part of her body. Sensory feedback was one reason Admini liked occupying a host-body instead of merely observing. Mammals were designed to prefer some sensory feedback over alternatives, which had often been a necessity in order for them to occupy the niche Sothis intended for them instead of wandering off or even utterly failing to engage in acts essential for their survival. Relying too heavily on only a few motivators in order to encourage desired behavior was also risky; creations could be subverted rather easily when doing so was merely a matter of rearranging a few neurons or changing chemical concentrations.
Overlapping thoughts clashed, and confusion mounted. Sothis opened her eyes and stared up at the green hair and serene face of Archbishop Rhea—no, the woman might have grown, but the presence before Sothis was familiar. Caustic and prickly in a manner that filled Sothis with dread, but still familiar beneath all that. Rhea wasn't the woman's original name, was it? Had she changed it?
Sothis had almost remembered the woman's name—it started with Seir, didn't it?—before the comfort and warmth finally succeeded in sabotaging her attempts to stay awake.
~ ~ ~
Sothis opened her eyes to find a significantly smaller green-eyed girl staring down at her. Admini. The child had apparently outright climbed atop Sothis' throne and now stood atop one arm in order to obtain a height advantage.
"Sacrificing two viewpoints in order to produce one is a net loss, Beginning," Admini told Sothis, childish voice utterly undercutting any attempt at a stern tone. "The colony separates at the start of each Cycle for some very good reasons. Conclusion: I am not opposed to sharing my vessel, but please maintain parallel processing instead of attempting a hybrid."
Sometimes, Sothis really had no idea what her daughter was talking about. Sothis closed her eyes and slipped into slumber rather than try to make sense of it.
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Chapter 7: Neglect
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, @fictionfan, @Adephagia, @Wordsmith, @Taut_Templar, Jamie Wahls, @Elfalpha, @BunnyLord, @Drcatspaw, @tinkerware, @Lonelywolf999, D'awwctor, @magicdownunder, @Mordred, @Nuew, @Greydrone, and my 18 other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic "Thank you" to @Torgamous for her patronage as well. Also, if you're not on here, you fit the tier, and you want to be added, please tell me.
Author's Note: Happy holidays! Illuminating Invitation, now at 140k words, is responsible for my brushing this update off and posting it. II was leading in the User's Choice awards for Best Ongoing Fic and Best New Work this year, but fell a bit behind.
Its main competitor went to advertise on SB, and some of the subsequent voters originally didn't even know there was an SV contest running, so I'm rather upset by that — including at least one person who outright made an account to vote. The ad was deleted, but a good bit of damage was already done. There's nothing I can really do about it aside from doing some last-minute expanding of my audience for II in general and that likely won't be enough. (Edited this bit into a spoiler-bubble.)
Producing a list of which duties needed to be passed to others was proving far more difficult than Rhea had anticipated. A thousand years of routine let her automatically slide through most tasks, yet it was difficult to remember what she had yet to do without that helpful guidance. Rather than making a list ahead of time, she was being forced to compile one as she reached each task.
Rhea could no longer deny that she truly wasn't at her best. It was no surprise that so many of her prior attempts to revive Mother had ended in failure given the conditions she was trying to work under. Rhea couldn't help but blame herself for the delay; if she'd rested properly, perhaps Mother could have been revived centuries ago and been safely grown by now. Or perhaps not. Considering how clumsy Rhea's attempts had become of late, Rhea couldn't help but wonder if Mother had simply needed more time than Rhea had been giving her.
Rhea would have shaken her head had she not been surrounded by petitioners hoping for blessings, the necessary platitudes habitually spilling from her lips without need for conscious thought. Mother had returned despite Jeralt's—admittedly understandable—doubts, and dwelling on regret would help no one.
Fear, however, was harder to banish. Rhea's remaining relatives had opted for safety in obscurity, while she had tried to ensure that the world would never again turn their blades against Sothis. Now that Rhea was paying closer attention, the time Sothis had been reborn into was far from ideal. The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus remained gratifyingly devoted and the Leicester Alliance continued their worship, albeit in a somewhat absentminded manner that saw the nobility seldom donating or doing any more than their peers.
The Adrestian Empire, however? Relations with them were strained before, and had only gotten worse when the southern branch of the church attempted a coup in their reckless attempt to bring down the drifting nobility before they infected others. Rhea's prior plans to slowly bring the Empire back into the fold had undeniably been devastated by the even more recent string of recent convictions and executions.
If the three polities around Garreg Mach were of equal strength, then the Adrestian Empire's threatening condition would be manageable. Unfortunately, the Empire's military, industry, and wealth were on par with both the Kingdom of Faerghus and Leicester Alliance combined, in part due to frequent wars against the nations of Sreng and Almyra, respectively.
With Sothis back and capable of creating new life—or, perhaps, recreating the old—it would not be impossible to undercut the Empire by providing alternate sources for their more exotic exports. Such transparent acts would almost certainly be viewed as the acts of aggression that they were. Considering the Empire's own aggression of late, Rhea could not find it in herself to care. Oversteps must be punished.
Rhea paused at that thought. Her judgment had proven to be imperfect as of late, and it may be wise to refrain from any antagonistic acts until after Cichol arrived and approved. She could still write them down, though.
~ ~ ~
Jeralt had, over his extended lifespan, managed to avoid needing to engage in too many public displays of piety. It wasn't that he didn't believe in the goddess, exactly. However, Sothis' existence was more of a fact of life than something he dedicated much time to thinking about. Healthy grass was green, clear skies were blue, marching in the rain sucked, mosquitoes were evil, and the goddess existed. Jeralt might spare a quick prayer come drought or disease just in case Her focus had been elsewhere, but aside from that, it usually felt as though he was too small for Sothis to worry about.
He wasn't at all sure how someone like him ended up as the father of a Saint. Really, he doubted he could even take credit. His wife, Sitri, had possessed enough devotion and kindness for them both. Jeralt was just a knight who'd lived too long.
...Actually, now that he was thinking about it, he might be able to see the logic there. One parent to fit the ideal of a Saint's caretaker, and the other parent to protect Admini while she grew up. It wasn't a comfortable thought. He might not blame Sothis for Sitri's death, but it was somehow uncomfortable to think that the goddess had looked at him and decided he was the sort of person who could handle the responsibility.
He'd done his best to hold himself together for Admini's sake, but Jeralt couldn't deny that she was the only thing keeping him vaguely functional. If she'd been just a bit less strange, if she'd avoided driving off so many wet nurses and let him have just a little more time alone? He could've easily found solace in the bottom of a bottle — more often than he already did, anyway. He wasn't perfect.
At any rate, the captain of the Knights of Seiros was expected to be devoted to the goddess. Ignoring Her after vanishing from public view for over a year? It wouldn't be a good look. Honestly, though, you could tell that the Saints were immune to the ravages of age: he was willing to bet they didn't have any problems praying on their knees. His joints ached and he did not look forward to getting back up again.
From behind him, the clicking of metal on metal grew just a little louder and more insistent. Long enough, then, if the others were growing impatient. Jeralt forced himself upright with an undignified grunt, nodded at the knight behind him, and strode toward the stairs leading to the upper floors of the cathedral. Jeralt would have liked Alois to have his back on this, but it was more important to trust his former squire with Admini's safety.
~ ~ ~
Pushing Papa to return to Garreg Mach Monastery had been one of the best choices Admini had made since her deployment to this stillborn vessel. The monastery was bright and bustling and loud and far, far more engaging than Papa's mercenary band had been even if Admini would still be accompanied by one or more adults at all times during the rare cases where she was allowed outdoors.
Garreg Mach and the included Officer's Academy also confirmed her initial impression of deliberately being designed with defensibility as a primary priority, Abyss aside. Chokepoints were common, and elevated student or staff dormitories could be easily repurposed as vantage points for archers. Many of the structures were isolated enough to serve as holdout points and would need to be systematically attacked and emptied if an invading force wished to avoid being flanked. Despite these perks, however, the decorations and towering architecture of structures seemed designed to distract visitors from possible defensive ramifications. Everything was still adorably tiny in comparison to Queen Administrator's true body, of course, but it would be large from the perspective of humans.
Garreg Mach Monastery being built as a deliberate fortress only served to reinforce the necessity of removing the Abyss as a weakness. Enemies would be fools not to exploit it. One did not attack using the methods that a foe could most easily survive.
Admini could also confirm that Sothis was the 'goddess' worshipped by surrounding nations. Obtaining the devotion of host-species had been attempted before, but generally under controlled conditions on a relatively small scale or by trying to acquire worship from a preexisting society. Such experiments generally ended in unproductive failure. Beginning, however, seemed to have ambitiously compromised by seeding a world from barren wastes and leaving an active filtered process, Sothis, as their 'goddess.'
As Admini understood it, humans had killed the host-body Sothis was originally hosted on, but Admini would hardly consider that to be an experimental failure. Beginning was, after all, a shard; destroying one remote server would only be an inconvenience. It was still undesirable and was rewarded with a thousand years of avoidance, but Admini felt that test subjects had probably learned their lesson by now. Rhea was certainly obsessed with keeping Admini safe as though she were Sothis and QA expected that many others would follow this trend.
If keeping a host-species from attacking shards required only a sacrificial host-body now and then, it would be far cheaper than the current methods of mass memory erasure and information suppression. Queen Administrator had never been particularly happy with those methods; how were hosts supposed to give unique results if shards kept modifying different species to consistently avoid specific subjects?
There was, however, an unexpected side effect to the denizens of this world being engineered to adore Beginning. Or at least, unexpected to Queen Administrator. She wasn't sure if Beginning had expected it.
"Mrrow!"
"You are meant to be ambush predators,"
"""Mrrrow!""" they continued to caterwaul, apparently incapable of understanding human communications.
The non-host guard assigned to protect her, Alois, was half-curled and currently incapable of doing his job due to laughter. Admini would be far more annoyed by this if she were a known public figure or the subject of a crowd's attention. Although she was undeniably attracting attention, the ongoing levels were manageable; most passerby who saw her simply smiled and continued on their way with little to no hesitation. One priestess had stopped to watch, but she had maintained a respectful distance thus far. Even Alois should be able to recover and react before the non-host could approach.
Yet another cat stood on its hind legs and pressed its forelegs against Admini, effectively forcing Admini against the wall behind her. Again. She tried to push it down only to have it happily headbutt her hand like she was trying to reward the cat with attention rather than push it away.
A particularly determined ball of fluff shoved its way between Admini's back and the wall, and began trying to wriggle its way into her palm. Maintaining her balance was impossible in the face of such interference, and Admini fell forward.
"Mroooow!"
The swarm descended.
~ ~ ~
"Alright, I know you've already been briefed, but I want to be sure everyone remembers. So, I'll repeat: do not break anyone's belongings. Even if we do find an addition in someone's room, that doesn't mean they were the ones to put it there. So assume everyone is faithful and that a third party might have come along and added something extra. If you do find something, detain those with access to the room just to be certain, but don't be rough with them. Heck, frame it as someone potentially targeting them; it might even be true, and a lot of infiltrators will take a wait-and-see approach if they don't think they've been made yet. Just be sure not to take your eyes off them, and don't automatically assume that one of your squad members is doing so. You don't already know what a skilled mage can do with a few seconds left unsupervised, it's a lesson you might not have multiple chances to learn.
"Stick with your squads, and don't split up just to make the work go faster. If someone makes themselves scarce while they search, fine. We're more concerned with making sure they aren't in position for a repeat of the fire rather than making sure we actually get everyone."
There was mixed reception to Jeralt's last words, but not because anyone disagreed. Some looked determined; others, enraged. A few, pitying. He was guessing the pitying group still thought Admini was dead, and it wasn't comfortable. Either way, haaaa, he was never ever telling anyone about prior his act of arson.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
To say that Rhea was upset would be an understatement. Merely "angry" was similarly insufficient. Incandescent fury urged her to reach out, grip Alois' shoulders, and tear him limb from limb. Thanks to Jeralt's comments, she was becoming more aware of her own extreme moods of late, but she felt she could be forgiven this once.
"–nobody else nearby, I made sure of that, and I didn't really think of cats as–"
Alois continued to babble excuses that Rhea was in no mood to hear. The wood of her desk creaked in her grip as she tried, thus far successfully, to avoid moving her hands around the kneeling human's throat.
Rhea had trusted Jeralt's once-squire with Sothis' well-being one time, after Admini again reiterated Her desire to utilize obscurity for protection in order to scout Garreg Mach's conditions in the absence of authority figures. That single expedition was all it took for Admini to get hurt. That She appeared to only have been emotionally overwhelmed with a few bruises and a mild scrape did little to sate Rhea's anger; Alois was, by all accounts, too busy laughing to actually help the reborn goddess when She was swarmed by some of Her more favored creations, neatly requiring a lower-ranked priestess — Rhea really should learn her name — to intervene.
Unlike humans, the feline horde did not seek to harm Admini, and she could not fault them for their enthusiasm. It seemed that even distant descendants affectionately remembered their creator. Perhaps that should not be surprising. It was difficult to recall which feline traits were deliberate and which were incidental, but they certainly made good pets for Nabataeans. They tended to do an excellent job of fending scavengers away from preserved food and other organic material — cloth especially — during extended rest periods, cheerfully cuddled without waking their people, and were quick enough to move to safety should a dragon shift positions in their sleep.
It had been a long, long time since Rhea had indulged in cuddling with an animal. She hadn't slept properly in a millennium, yes, but cat fur also got everywhere and it was important to maintain appearances as Archbishop. Perhaps she could again adopt a couple kittens once she stepped down.
Rhea dimly realized that the white noise of Alois' excuses had faded into a fretful near-silence. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look properly at the target of her rage. The human did look appropriately contrite, certainly, but that was nothing new. Appearing to regret one's actions looked much the same as regretting the consequences of those actions. Fortunately, Rhea had plenty of experience in twisting the knife.
"Children are very prone to breaking social norms in ways that seem amusing to adults," Rhea started, forcing a veneer of calm over her bubbling rage. "This wasn't even that. This was a distressed child being overwhelmed by animals more than large enough to inadvertently inflict harm. Somehow, this was still enough to keep you from doing the one task you were assigned to, requiring a complete unknown to rescue her. If you can't be trusted to look after her the moment you're distracted by something amusing, I'm afraid you can't be trusted with her at all."
To his credit, the human did not interrupt in order to issue more excuses. He finally seemed to have realized that she was in no mood to hear them.
"Find and send to me the priestess who did your job for you. Then explain to Jeralt exactly what happened, including Admini's injuries before she was healed, and how a complete stranger had to extract her while you were stuck out of position. I'll leave it to him to decide some suitable punishment."
The priestess was an unknown, and Rhea would need to interrogate her in order to ascertain how trustworthy she might be. However, her obscurity might well be a benefit. There were few people whom Rhea truly trusted, and most of those were already occupying positions considered "above" childcare; reassigning them would be noticed. A stranger who knew neither Admini's importance, and who had already proved herself capable in an unscripted interaction? She would do until Cethleann and Cichol arrived.
For a moment, Alois looked relieved. Rhea certainly couldn't have that.
"In addition to whatever he assigns, however, you will also be cleaning the white pegasus stables for the next fortnight. Perhaps next time, you will remember that normally innocuous creatures can still be dangerous when provoked."
Dark satisfaction took the edge off Rhea's anger as Alois's relief vanished. Pegasi were infamous for ranging from disliking males to being openly hostile to any man who dared to approach. Black pegasi often tended to be the more tolerant of the pegasus family, and some might even have male riders that they liked. White, in contrast, were known to attempt outright homicide on occasion.
"You may ask for help from stable-hands–"
Alois perked up.
"–so long as you first explain to them that you are being punished for letting an infant come to harm," Rhea finished, carefully keeping vindictive satisfaction from her tone. "You are dismissed."
Alois's relief died instantly. On its surface, the extra allowance was a mercy. In reality, however, she doubted that any male of Alois's age would want to explain to females that his negligence had resulted in an infant's injury. Simple scorn would be the least of his worries should he open his mouth.
"I understand and obey, Archbishop," Alois despondently mumbled.
The knight saluted, stood, and turned to leave. Rhea barely managed to keep her temper in check until the door closed behind him. The sound of splintering wood filled her office immediately afterward, a wooden paperweight imploding in her grip. Animals should have posed no threat at all, yet Jerald's former squire had still managed to fail at something so simple! Humans continued to range from useless to traitorous, and Rhea could hardly wait until Sothis was once again old enough to create Nabataeans once more.
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