those closest to the light
@ignatzlandscape @sheerloyalty @macawbre
When Rhea had first suspected Faolán she had assumed it was information the cardinal thought improper to share with Rhea at that moment not this (whatever this was). That spell Faolán had used, and her words “the will of Saint Seiros” - indeed, she thought wryly, if she had not so recently seen her own blood she may have been tempted to check if it was still there.
(It’s there, she thinks. But is it, can it, change?)
Still, whatever name she goes by, whatever banner she flies, Rhea was made for war. Her students know this reality as well and so when they are so rudely warped out of the catacombs and into the gray backdrop of Garreg Mach’s outer defenses it takes them little time to form teams once more and strike back against the invaders.
Rhea would determine who and what these invaders were at a later time, right now all that mattered was that her sword struck true and that she was here to defend and lead. Four shadowy figures - different from the phantoms of before - face she and her students and Rhea runs ahead to strike at the one in a mockery of bishop robes. The strike lands but not deep enough for her to keep her opponent where she would like and when she pulls her sword back she is encumbered by the magical and physical blows of a sage and wyvern rider respectively.
Gritting her teeth, she shouts over to the rest of her group: “stay together! Do not by any means let them separate you.”
