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"What do you think, Rhela?"
Scanning the frozen landscape during their slow approach, the Warrior grew a little uneasy. Never before did she think she'd be pondering a potential invasion into the icy capital.
The city capital sat atop a massive stone island surrounded by a chasm so deep and so cold, no one ever dared to explore it. There was a total of one land entryway: the main bridge from the south that was malms long over the icy death pit. Given the state of the atmosphere since the Calamity, the fact that airships could even still fly through the consistent harsh icy storms was a miracle within itself. That difficulty didn't even take into account the monsters and the dragons that dominated a large chunk of the Central Coerthas region.
"It would be difficult," Rhela noted with a neutral tone as her eyes took in the amount of knights that were protecting the entryway of the Arch of the Worthy, "It would be very difficult. Land would be practically impossible. There is no means of cover through that bridge, and I would guess they are pretty well practiced at warding off enemies via it." Her shoulders sagged and she let out a sigh. She was freezing. "By air will be our only choice."
"By air could possibly be worse," Alma said, her voice incredibly calm. She was like Zenos: unshaken by the cold, her stride comfortable even through the snow. "The weather up here is atrocious, and incredibly unpredictable. You can't trust the northern mountains, you can't trust the western gapways, and coming in east or south is also potential suicide."
Rhela's brows met the scales at her nose and she pursed her lips to the side with a quizzical, almost concerned look. "I'm familiar with the weather up here, Alma. I can't imagine that the airships would have difficulty navigating the climate."
The other auri scoffed in amusement at the statement and shook her head. "Added to that an entire military based around fighting off airborn dragons?"
At the realization, Rhela's lips fell into a flat line and her shoulders sank almost as deeply as her feet did in the snow.
She couldn't fathom why the three of them were walking when they could have taken a vehicle of some sort... But if the attempt was to appear ‘peaceful', than removing any sort of machina balanced out the intimidating nature that was Zenos in his bulky gear and his massive holster at his side.
"This is why we are entertaining the plan proposed by van Baelsar," Zenos noted, his voice echoing with a mechanical hum as it came out of the modulator in his helm. "With the fall of the neighboring city states, it was surmised that they were prepared for Garlean forces to arrive at their gates ere long." While he had been the one to support Alma in this proposed plan to invade Ishgard, the boredom was incredibly obvious in every word. "It was to our benefit that House Haillenarte has fallen into disarray."
"The faith in the Haillenarte line might have become an absolute shit-show, but they are still a great house," Alma noted casually as her shoulders bounced. Unlike before, there was a touch of spite in her voice. "Easy to sway them with the idea that they could turn another war into a peaceful negotiation could help that reputation. It had been doing pretty poorly, but the Calamity just made it worse."
A single dark brow rose as she peered at the two commanding officers. This felt incredibly unlike their normal tactics given what she'd heard. The two of them listening to Gaius was also odd.
"Alright, I have to ask," Rhela said, "If we can't invade it like I'm sure you both would prefer, and you're taking up van Baelsar's opinion after he'd said no so many times to this plan, then... why are we doing this at all?"
She could practically feel how cold Alma became at the question. Usually the small Tribunis did not carry that imposing mantle that Zenos did- she didn't need to around the Legatus. But it felt as if gravity had increased; a heavy weight covered them all like a lead blanket.
"I have history here," Alma replied, the venom and bite in her words clear as day. Rhela had never heard such contempt from her. "This was my childhood home. They hunted and murdered my parents, and then they executed my adopted father in front of a cheering crowd." Her head turned towards Rhela, and though she wore her helm, the warrior could feel the intensity of her gaze.
"They stole everything from me. Now I want to do the same."
-----
It took them more than an hour to get through the gates.
It took them more than an hour to get an audience with the Holy See.
After so much waiting, listening to the discussion between their diplomat, the Lord Commander of the Knights Templar, the injections from various Heavens' Ward, and then the occasional bite of the Archbishop, they'd lost track of time.
This attempt at diplomacy was grueling. So much time had been spent standing in the cold, taking in the stares of the knights, watching the way that the noble classes would peer at them down the length of their noses. Their attempts to hide their sneers or be subtle regarding their words were all for naught. Not only were they noticed, but they tried to pierce some of the strongest armors in all of Hydaelyn.
Irritation, however, was growing steadily until it was reaching a boiling point.
"... I grow weary of this posturing..." Zenos' voice was but a whisper, his words neutral, but there was still the obvious annoyance in the downturn corners of his lips. "van Baelsar's methods are not questionable, nor useless. I simply do not have the patience for such buffoonery..."
He shifted but an ilm, causing his armor to rattle and several knights to turn their gaze towards him.
Rhela turned her head just enough to see the tall garlean out of the corner of her eye, but tried to keep from moving too much, especially given how quick attention seemed to fall on them. "... you're not the only one who is bored and irritated..." she muttered beneath her breath, "... at least you're not freezing."
"I don't know. I think I'm enjoying the tension," Alma whispered while she was trying to hold back the smirk on her face. The wag of her tail behind her was a much more obvious indicator of the entertainment she was getting from this- as little as it may have been. "We've got the most powerful figures in Ishgard, and they are having an audience with heretics and foreign invaders while they are still under siege in a whole lot of other ways." Beneath her breath she snorted. "Though Zenos might be right. We're failing at the, hm, 'posturing.'"
There was a change in the air. Zenos spine straightened a tad bit more, his shoulders lifting and his gaze locking on the ancient Archbishop. Those who were stationed to pay attention to them were not as aware of this change as Alma and Rhela were. His breathing steadied, slowed, before becoming almost completely silent. When he shifted a second time to balance his feet, there was no noise.
"Rhela."
Again her eyes turned in her sockets to watch him in the corner, soon realizing how intense and focused his gaze had become. She'd only seen his prowess during their couple spars, but only heard stories of the intensity of the Legatus of the XIIth- the Heir of Garlemald. There was no enjoyment like she'd seen when their blades had clashed, but she could still feel him vibrating with fresh energy. "... yes?"
"Three shots."
Her eyes bulged a bit, but she steadied herself. A good part of her knew this would most likely cause more trouble to the diplomacy process, but even she felt an overwhelming urge to move- to do something .
"Ser Aymeric. Ser Zephirin. Ser Grinnaux. Your targets will be their left shoulders."
As Rhela turned her head a bit more to make sure she could see the both of them, the glow in Alma's eyes was not missed. She too started to vibrate with that same energy, and it was addictive.
"My Dragon. The Archbishop. I shall take the stand as your support."
Alma's lips formed into an o-shape before twisting into a sheepish smile. She'd not expected an order like that. "Already? While we have more than one contender that I feel is worthwhile, it seems dramatic even for you."
Zenos' lids hung heavy over those blue eyes and his lips turned just a tiny bit further up his cheeks. "Perhaps. But I think these people fail to see the enemy they stand before... too much time spent witnessing great dragons tearing apart their nation to think of the damage that can be done by the few."
His right hand gripped one of his katana from the holster and stood firm. Alma balanced her feet slightly more apart and cracked her knuckles. Rhela felt a twinge of anxiety as she shifted her hand to her chest, then moving up to her neck to scratch.
There was a conversation happening in the distance, but the words were growing muddy while all three were focused on their targets. None of the knights around them seemed to notice the shift... except....
One of the Heavens' Ward turned their gaze to the trio. Ser Vellguine- an older man with a keen eye, a lancer probably used to tracking dragons at a distance. There was a flash of confusion before turning to unease.
"Now."
In one swift motion, Rhela swung her gunblade from off of her shoulder and aimed at her targets. With the new weapon provided by the Prince and her consistent training since stepping in line under Gaius, she'd become incredibly skilled with the weapon. With a hunter's grace she took the three shots in the order proposed by Zenos: Ser Aymeric, Ser Zephirin, then Ser Grinnaux.
While they may have been completely blindsided by the sudden attack, these high ranking knights were not there for posturing. All three were quick to defend themselves to parry off the bullets. Ser Aymeric and Ser Zephirin used their thicker blades to parry, Ser Grinnaux seemed to take the shoulder hit without it piercing his armor.
They were mid-way through everyone drawing their weapons when Alma and Zenos dashed towards them.
Metal grieves rattled with the slam of their boots against the stone. Though Alma was over a head shorter than Zenos, her smaller legs were able to keep up with his wide and speedy stride. Her weapon was off of her back, while he had drawn a katana about half way from his holster. Within seconds of their assault, the knights were upon them.
Swords were drawn, shields presented, lances pointed, magic gathered. The Heavens' Ward was built and trained as a unit, making them a prime defense for the Archbishop and a nation as a whole. More than a dozen men were upon the two assailants within moments, but they were not prepared for the extent of their power.
Zenos finally drew his entire katana from its holster and slammed the point into the ground. The stone beneath it cracked, spider webbing further cracks as pure energy pulsed through them, and with it a dome of screeching chaotic aether. Not a single weapon or magic spell could pierce it, and instead all were blasted away, thrown against various walls and points in the room.
The Lord Commander moved in last to the Archbishop's defense against the rushing Xaela woman. He extended his blade to the side and swung it from underneath to halt her and cleave under her own weapon. While she was not as quick on her feet as Rhela, she wielded raw, unbridled power. Her posture shifted as she stopped her assault, bringing her weapon down upon Aymeric's blade to counter. The two were frozen in that position as they tried to force the other to give way.
While Zenos was combating at least three close range knights of the Heavens' Ward, Rhela had to contend with their casters focused on her from afar, given the other knights took to restraining the Imperial diplomat and their guard, who did not join in the surprise assault of the trio.
Fire and lightning zapped in her direction, forcing Rhela to dance on her feet. Being a caster prior, she knew this waltz, spinning around intended casting locations and using her gunblade as a means of redirect. When it seemed the focus was too great to avoid, she popped an aetheric shield that kept her safe from harm.
"Rhela."
Even over the chaos, she could still make out the calm tone of Zenos. He was warding off Ser Zephirin who was attempting to distract the Legatus with his thick sword and break his defense. Instead of parrying him, he lifted a gauntleted hand to catch it, surging the weapon with electrical energy that channeled through to its owner. The knight hissed in pain and was forced to retreat. Ser Grinnaux attempted to cleave into Zenos' side with a mighty swing of his axe, but with his one katana he could hold the berserker at bay, causing irritation to flash on the elezen's face.
"Subdue Ser Charibert, Ser Noudenet." There was not even a hitch of fatigue or strain in him as he parried another blow.
To dive into the fray- adrenaline pumped through her veins like wildfire. Her boots planted firmly, surging the mana in her before bolting across the hall. Those trying to deal with Zenos ignored Rhela, but the casters kept their focus locked. There was a fleeting moment of surprise as she caught sight of a spear coming down from above, and narrowly dodged with a roll as Ser Noudenet's weapon impaled the stone. Before he could follow she slashed her blade across an opening in his leg armor, then shot twice to the center off his breastplate to knock him off balance. Seeing how the prior simple shells did not so easily break the armor prior, she knew it would not deal a deadly blow.
Within seconds she was upon the group of casters. Ser Charibert was keen to put distance between them, leaping backward several yalms. Ser Noudenet trusted his own shielding to protect him and help support those injured, but the healer was not prepared to be at the opposite side of one of his own.
Rhela thrust her gunblade into dead center and immediately after pulled the trigger. Bullets ricocheted, the spectral shield seemed unyielding until she did it again- and again- and again. Each time she made that same attack she witnessed the strain in Ser Noudenet's face, the shake in his arms and the wince in his uneasy eyes. It spider cracked while the aether waned. He attempted with one last push of his mana to keep it steady, only to have it shatter like glass before him with the small scaled warrior rushing through. Her aim shifted just enough to strike a bullet through his right shoulder, disarming him and causing him to wail in pain as he fell to one knee.
Ser Charibert did not seem keen on dealing with the gunblade wielding Xaela as he pushed downward into a full squat, then launched himself off the floor, flipping into the air until he found purchase on a stable archway high above. Fire aether filled the tip of his staff, and a quicked grin formed on his face as several runic patterns formed above the dueling Alma and Ser Aymeric. While it would injure the Lord Commander, his priority was halting the infidel posed to strike their Archbishop. From the swirling magickal patterns above them did hellfire rain down, the cool air of the Holy See soon filling with the smell of flames and smoke.
Rhela took the chance in his cast to aim her gunblade steady on her arm and use it to help snipe the malicious mage and cut his spell short. Concern twisted her face as she turned towards the impact spot covered in a thick cloud of grey.
When it cleared, the two of them were still standing.
Ser Aymeric and Alma were still in close quarters, greatswords pressed together at the centers as each refused to yield in a match of pure strength. However, the dark knight kept the weight of her weapon in one hand while the edge of the blade was supported along the length of her arm. It cut into her armor and caused blood to trickle down the length, but that was not important to her. The other arm was pointed upward with her hand flat, using her dark aether to make an umbrella shielding around both her and Ser Aeymeric, saving them both from the rain of fire cast by one of his own allies.
He looked at her wide grin in shock from not only the dangerous change in her position to keep him at bay, but how she had saved them both from the outer damage.
The fighting seemed never ending as the entire Heavens' Ward continued to dance with the three Imperial fighters. Ser Adelphel roared as he came down with his glowing shield in an attempt to slam the taller garlean man and give his comrades an opening. It met the curved edge of Zenos' katana, metal on metal causing sparks to form from the grinding, straining weapons. The younger knight was giving his all to press through, teeth clenched and eyes bulging.
Yet Zenos' face, previously elated at the thrill of this battle, had grown empty. His eyelids were growing heavier over his vivid blue eyes while he stared forward, not at the struggling elezen or any of the other knights. As he reached for his holster with his other hand and drew out another katana, he sighed.
"I believed that such vaunted knights of a powerful nation would pose more of a challenge..." he bemoaned as his katana pulsed with red energy before he pierced the tip into the stone again. The room filled with another high pitched whine, followed by a roar as that same powerful aether exploded from his body, blowing the surrounding knights in various directions. With them away, he sheathed both weapons and let his shoulders sink dejectedly. "My dragon. I grow bored of this pretense..."
"Well then," Alma hissed as she pressed back against Ser Aymeric's blade, causing the knight to grunt as he was suddenly met with new pressure, "Maybe another time Lord Commander. But I've a point to make."
The much smaller woman took two steps back rather suddenly, releasing her shield and once again gripping her bastard sword with both hands. Dark aether filled the length as she swung it up three times in different directions, upsetting the defense of Ser Aymeric and causing him to stumble at the sudden burst of raw power. When he found his footing again and attempted to reach his combatant, he found her hopping backwards, putting space between them. While the elezen assumed it was so that she could make another dart for him, he realized in her glowing red gaze that he was no longer the target.
Alma rushed forward, feet slamming twice before the third launched her up into the air, quickly cutting the distance between her and Thordan VII. Every set of eyes froze on the black armored knight as she spun once in the air, blade then coming down on the terrified Archbishop. His large staff clattered to the ground.
Though she had ample opportunity to strike him down and end this entire fight, and in the turn take Ishgard full by destroying its patriarch, the large dark blade instead sliced through part of the curved stone in Thordan VII's throne. One foot settled on an armrest, while the other planted itself firmly against the back of the throne just beside his opposing shoulder. After slipping away one hand from the grip, she leaned herself back so she could leer at him down the length of her nose, aqua eyes shimmering and lips tugged as wide as they could to bare her canine filled teeth.
"I'd tell your knights to yield, if I were you."
Several sets of armor clinked and rattled in unease, but Thordan wove his hand beneath Alma's arched leg, halting any of them from advancing. He remained frozen in that position with wide steel eyes locked on hers.
"What..." There was a small hitch in his voice that he tried to tamper down before continuing. "... what do you possibly hope to gain with such an assault in this holy space-"
"There's nothing holy about a place soaked in the blood of the thousands of people deemed unworthy, slaughtered at the commands of sadists like you, using the divine as a mask for your righteousness." Though she was still smiling, every single one of Alma's words bit like her tongue was smeared with venom. "So don't try to pose yourself like you're better than us. I already have plenty of reasons for wanting to dive my hand down your throat and rip your shriveled black heart."
"Savage infidel!!!" Ser Grinnaux roared as he balanced his massive axe in both hands, ignoring the bleeding wounds made by Zenos' katana. His feet spread as he prepared himself to bolt. "I won't have you threatening the Archbishop so-"
Already wide lilac eyes bulged as he felt the length of Zenos' katana straight across his neck. Without moving his head he turned his vision to lock on the Garlean with arm extended. He'd not heard the movement of such a hefty man; he was not even sure when Zenos had reached his side. While his body trembled in rage, teeth clenching to almost a cracking point, he knew one wrong move and he would be dead.
"While I applaud your resilience to keep pushing even against such odds, Ser Grinnaux, I shall not have my dragon hindered in her hunt. " A single corner of the Legatus' lips tugged upward into a minute smirk. "Especially by prey as unworthy as you."
"The battle is yours!" Ser Aymeric yelled as he let his weapon clatter on the ground before his feet. "There is no need to spread anymore blood this day!"
The Lord Commander froze as he heard the gat of the gun lock from the weapon directly behind his head. Cold metal parted his dark locks, the steady hand holding it firm while Rhela stood calmly with the weapon locked in place.
"Keep quiet, she's not done," Rhela stated with a coldness in her words that she felt for a moment was unbecoming of her. How much were these two rubbing off on her?
Thordan stared up at the small au ra woman, one hand digging into his robe and the other clawing into the side of his throne to keep him balanced. "Then it appears that this olive branch presented by your Legion is a farce? Does the Empire truly desire the ire of Ishgard?" His thick brows furrowed towards his nose and lips turned down into a sneer. "While the pathetic city-states may have fallen to your soldiers, The Fury shall not yield to unworthy heretics-"
"High Legatus Gaius van Baelsar made a request that we be civil with you all," Alma spat, grin widening until her cheeks were pulled completely taut, "But since you and your own kept playing games with your coy words, it felt high time to show you what it be like if we stopped playing nice." She could see the way chills ran down his spine from the small tremble in his arms, and read the fear from how his breathing froze in his lungs for but a moment. Her head canted ever so slightly to the side and eyelids fell until she was looking at him through thin slits. "And I think it's high time they stop playing around, don't you think Zenos?"
There was a single clatter of his armor as the Prince let his arm fall, drawing the blade from Ser Grinnaux's neck and sheathing it back into the mighty holster at his side. The boredom from prior had faded while he watched his Tribunis Laticlavius dominate the Archbishop. "My dragon, as always, speaks true," he spoke, though his words carried practically no emotion- not even irritation, "Long enough has our time been wasted with such mummery. I've personally no interest in your city state. Already the idea of conquest against such pathetic savages has left a dull taste on my tongue..."
"Then what are your intentions?" Ser Charibert spoke up as he approached the throne, his stature unyielding even with the threat against his leader. His gaze moved between the three Garlean warriors, peering at them with narrowed eyes. "You've no interest in peace, you've no interest in conquest, and it seems you've no interest in doing us real harm." A gauntleted arm swung off to the side in the direction of the gathering of knights previously fighting Zenos. "Each blow made has been to disarm us, though it is clear you have the skill to strike us down if you so wished. If it would be so easy to tear us asunder, only to stay your hand, then why?"
Alma's shoulders bounced and she scoffed, snickering soon after. It took two hard tugs to pull her mighty blade upward and shrug it back over her shoulder. Her head turned so she could meet Rhela's glittering gaze, and then twisted it in the other direction to catch Zenos' as his lips turned upwards.
"Well. In truth, the city is really the best way to get to the Western Highlands, taking us to Dravania."
Shock filled the eyes of all the Ishgardians in the room as she hopped off the throne and strolled up towards Zenos. After giving Rhela a small nod, the Warrior drew her weapon away from Ser Aymeric and moved to join her.
"The Prince here," Alma mentioned with a flicking hand in the tall Garlean's direction, "liked the idea of hunting dragons- real dragons. The ones that keep pummeling your city and eating up all your citizens. Rhela-" Again she was waving her hand, but she passed the slightly smaller-woman a rather happy smile. "-well she wanted to get out of Garlemald. I don't blame her. And me? Once we're done with our hunt?"
After reaching Zenos' side she turned on heel, shrugging off her blade and stabbing it into the stone before her. The idle jesting in her face prior faded, and her gaze became as cold as the chilling winds that cut through the streets of the icy city.
"I'll just keep hoping you continue to refuse the Garlemald banner so that I can paint the city with your righteous blood."