“I’m tired of all this damn rain!” Grabbing his mug and downing it all in one go, a fierce-looking man grumbles about the weather as his wet armor drips down onto the floorboards below.

“Ahhh but Captain, the rain was a big help with our mission earlier. We wouldn’t have had such an easy time getting the drop on those bandits otherwise. Wait a minute, are you upset because the rain got your THUNDERwear all wet, haha!”

Dying of laughter at his own terrible joke is a young man with a strong and sturdy build. He has slicked back greyish brown hair and pale green eyes that display his happy and cheerful personality.

Giving a sidelong glance at the red-faced newly appointed knight, the annoyed man just continues to drink after refilling his mug.

“Oh come on that was a good one. Anyway, you shouldn’t let the weather get you down Captain. I know, why don’t you go visit that young lady you’ve been so smitten with, that’ll do you good for sure. It always helps me to see my wife again when I get home from battle. Why one time…”

As the young man begins to talk at length about the undying love he has for his recently wed bride, an older knight comes jogging up to the pair.

“Sorry to interrupt Captain, but the archbishop requests your immediate presence.”

Annoyed yet also grateful for the interruption, the so-called captain empties his cup before letting out a sigh, “I only just got back and yet I'm already being summoned huh? Very well, let’s see what it is this time. I’ve spent enough time here as it is.”

Getting up while leaving some coins on his table, the captain makes his way to the door but then stops and turns his head, “Thanks for the company Alois, now why don’t you get back to that lady of yours before you drink yourself under the table.”

After saying his piece, the man walks off while his companion, Alois, pales as he remembers what happened the last time he came home late and drunk and quickly runs out the door towards his home.

Moon shining brightly in the star-spangled sky, it's a quiet night within the monastery walls. The two knights pass the occasional person scurrying about, but other than that no one was around, likely due to the rain.

Walking through the darkened streets, the pair soon approach the main hall. Entering through a side gate and quickly proceeding up some steps is the Captain of the Knights of Seiros.

He's an imposing man appearing to be in his early to mid thirties, standing fairly tall at a bit over six feet and possessing a large and well-defined build. Short unkempt wheat-colored hair graces the top of his head as well as along his jaw, forming a small but thick beard that's still glistening from the rain.

His slightly darker eyes that were usually brimming with strength and confidence are slightly more subdued as they display his current fatigue from the back-to-back missions he has been carrying out. A small scar runs across the side of his left cheek, however, it only enhances his rugged handsomeness that often left many women swooning wherever he goes.

Loud footsteps, as well as the clanking of armor, echoes throughout the silent building as they exit the stairwell and proceed to a large pair of double doors. The older knight that led him here opens the door for him which leads into a large and majestic room.

Elaborate tiling decorating the floor, beautifully sculpted statues lining the sides, several chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, as well as a grand stained-glass window just behind an elevated seat. This is a throne room of sorts and serves as the main chamber from which the archbishop meets with guests and goes about their duties.

The older knight follows him in before quickly bowing to the figure standing in front of the throne, “Archbishop, I have brought the captain as you requested.”

“Thank you, Sir Gunter. You may leave us now.”

Bowing once again, the old knight exits the room, leaving only the two individuals. The young captain glances around, finding it odd that there are no other knights standing guard before his gaze finally settles on the individual in front of him.

The Archbishop of the Church of Seiros, the leader of the one and only faith in Fódlan, is a young and unparalleled beauty appearing to be in her mid to late twenties.

Flowing light green hair drapes down her abundant chest as her large eyes of the same color gaze at him with a gentle warmth. An ornate golden headdress rests upon her head while an elegant blue and gold mantle sits over a simple white dress that does little to hide her perfect curves and generous hips.

Beyond her perfectly sculpted face and body, she also seems to radiate a kind and gentle holy aura. She stands a bit shorter than him at 5’8” but it almost seems as if he needs to look up to her instead. It’s obvious at a glance that she is a very special woman, whether it be her god-given beauty or the resplendent air about her.

As she opens her mouth to speak, a heavenly and soothing voice comes from her, “Captain Jeralt, ah forgive me, Jeralt," she emphasizes his name without the preceding title, “I have summoned you here to share some joyous news.”

A beautiful smile blossoms on her lips as she continues her message, “Your wife has just entered labor with your child, tonight you will become a father.”

The young captain’s, Jeralt’s, eyes widen as he hears the news from the woman before him. “What, isn’t it too early?  Where is she? I need to go see her!”

As he is about to continue his outburst the archbishop comes forward and puts a steadying hand on his shoulder, easing him with her soothing voice. “Calm yourself Jeralt, everything is well. There are a few midwives with her as we speak and under their guidance, as well as that of the goddess and my own, everything will be just fine. Now, let me take you to her.”

Nodding and swallowing back more questions, the captain nervously and eagerly follows her to see his wife.

The two soon enter the medical wing and begin to hear grunts of pain and several comforting voices as they approach one of the rooms. Running ahead towards the voices, Jeralt bursts into a room to find his pained wife on a bed surrounded by three older women.

She is a beautiful young woman of twenty that shares many similar features to that of the archbishop. She is slightly shorter, has long dark green hair and eyes, smaller curves, and a more childlike face, but otherwise, they look as if they could be sisters. Currently, she lays on a bed sweating with a large bump showing her pregnancy.

“Sitri!” Calling out to his pregnant wife, he rushes over to her before kneeling and grabbing her hand.

Turning to look at him, her eyes seem to glow with love and happiness, although they also show a hint of pain, “Jeralt, my love, you are back. I’m so very glad. Can you believe it, we’re going to be parents!” She says this in a slow and pained voice, yet it does not detract from the beauty and cheerfulness in it.

“Sorry it took me a while to come back. The mission was longer than expected and once we returned Alois pulled me into the tavern to ‘relax after our exciting adventure’. I would have been here earlier if I knew it would happen this soon,” says the knight captain as he lovingly strokes her cheek.

A light chuckle escapes Sitri’s lips as she hears her husband’s words, “It’s fine dear, you are here now and that is what matters. The goddess brought you to me just like always.”

Right as she is about to say more, her grip on his hand tightens as her body suddenly tenses and she lets out a small groan.

“Lady Rhea, the child will soon arrive,” one of the midwives says to the archbishop.

Nodding gently, the archbishop, Rhea, turns to the captain and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Go out and sit in the waiting area Jeralt, it is time for us to begin our work.”

He turns his head to her, “Lady Rhea, with all due respect, I would like to stay here with my wife. How can I leave her side now?”

Before she or the midwives get a chance to respond, Sitri puts her hand on Jeralt’s arm and speaks to him. “It will be all right dear, trust in the archbishop as well as the goddess that everything will be fine. Please, do as they ask and follow their instruction, they have done this countless times in the past.”

As Sitri looks at her husband with a calm and gentle gaze, the captain can only smile wryly as he remembers Rhea saying the same thing earlier. Gazing at the beautiful face of his wife, he kisses her slowly before rising and turning to the archbishop.

“I leave her in your care Lady Rhea. Please, take care of my wife and child.”

She gives him a small smile and nods, “Of course Jeralt.”

Nodding to her, he gives his partner one last look, “I love you with all my heart Sitri. Be strong now, I can’t wait for the three of us to be together as a family.”

“I love you as well Jeralt.” Jeralt and Sitri share a warm smile before he turns and exits the room, leaving the women to their work.

The midwives begin to run about gathering all the necessary items to help with their task while the archbishop sits down with the soon-to-be mother and begins to ease her. “Deep breaths child, it will be alright. Just listen to my voice.”

After several minutes one of the midwives goes up to the pair, “Lady Rhea, everything has been prepared and set out for you.”

“Thank you, Julie. Why don’t you and the others go check on the other patients, I will stay here and help Sitri.”

The woman seems surprised at her words but as she is about to respond, she takes note of the archbishop’s commanding yet comforting look and decides to heed her words. “As you wish Lady Rhea,” she then turns to the young woman on the bed, “may the goddess sustain you during childbirth and bless your family with a healthy baby.”

The young wife gives a smile of thanks as the midwives bow and exit the room to attend to the other occupants in the medical wing.

Several tens of minutes later, the baby is finally about to be born. “I have the head here Sitri, keep pushing! You’re almost there child!”

Sitri grits her teeth and grabs the sheets in a vice grip as she continues to persevere through the pain and push the baby out with all her strength, grunting all the while. Slowly exiting her body, the newborn finally graces the world as they come out and rest in the strong and steady yet gentle hands of Rhea.

The new mother finally begins to relax, exhausted by the birthing, but quickly snaps her eyes open after hearing nothing, only an eerie silence. Looking over to the Archbishop, fear creeps up in her throat as she sees the solemn and sorrowful expression painted on the older woman’s face while holding the small infant in her embrace.

“Sitri… I’m so very sorry. The babe… he was not able to survive the birthing. He rests with the goddess now,” she says in a sad and quiet voice that booms like thunder in Sitri’s ears.

Coming over to the shocked and still woman, Rhea lays the unmoving infant in her arms as she kneels beside her in support.

The young woman only quietly gazes at her stillborn child.

A tiny frame that seems oh so delicate, as if it could break with the smallest amount of force, a little tuft of dark teal hair sitting atop his head, and cute chubby cheeks that almost seem out of place on his skinny body.

Tears stream down her face as she shakes and lets out a silent cry, not having the strength to do more. Rhea only watches in silence, letting her presence try and bring some degree of comfort to the grieving mother.

As Sitri holds her infant in her embrace a sudden thought seems to come after a few minutes, and she begins to stop crying and simply gazes at her babe. Caressing his head, a small light of determination appears in her eyes as she turns to look at the archbishop silently kneeling at her side.

Bringing a hand to her chest and confirming her decision, Sitri speaks to the older woman in a steady and resolute voice, “Please, Lady Rhea, my life, give it to the baby.”

The archbishop stares at her for a long moment before asking in a quiet voice, “Are you sure child?”

Sitri gives the other woman a smile then looks back lovingly at the tiny baby boy nestled in her arms. “Yes. I know that Jeralt will be able to care for him even without me to help him. The goddess will see it done, I truly believe that.”

Looking at the young mother lovingly holding her child, Rhea takes a moment to take in the scene as she sighs and replies to the request, “Very well, may the goddess guide me in this.”

Taking the infant from Sitri’s embrace and laying him gently to the side, she says a small prayer before moving towards the laying mother.

Removing Sitri’s dress and laying a hand on her bare chest, the two women share a long and complicated gaze as many unspoken words fly between them.

After a long moment, they look away at the same time and Rhea’s hand begins to glow as it slowly and magically submerges into the young mother’s chest. Seemingly grabbing something, Sitri’s back arches in the air while she stiffens and whimpers in pain.

Slowly, Rhea’s hand begins to reemerge from her chest, and in her grip, there seems to be some kind of faintly pulsing object.

Sitri, now looking even worse than before, only gives the archbishop a weak look as Rhea quickly goes towards the stillborn child and repeats the process, seeming to put something into his small body. She once again lays the boy onto his mother’s bare chest while the two women begin to pray for a miracle.

Not long after, the stillborn begins to glow with a faint green light. A couple of very long seconds later, the light fades and the two women watch in anticipation, waiting for something to happen.

A weak cry of joy escapes Sitri’s lips as she feels her newborn begin to move in her embrace.

Opening his tiny eyes, he locks gaze with his mother for a moment before yawning and closing them once again, going to sleep. Letting out a small chuckle as tears once again appear in her eyes Sitri says, “Look at that, he’s already such a sleepy head.”

The mother cherishes the feeling of holding her newly born child as she sends out a silent prayer of thanks to the goddess for reviving him. Soon, however, she begins to find it a struggle to merely keep her eyelids open.

Kissing her baby on the forehead, she whispers, “I love you, my sweet boy, be good to your father while I’m gone okay? He can be a bit rough around the edges at times but never doubt his love for you. I will always be watching you, and I will always love you.”

Turning to look at the unspeaking archbishop she says, “Thank you, I will be forever grateful for everything you have done for me. I love you… mother.”

Saying these last few words, Sitri returns her gaze to her child. Rhea could only bow her head and utter prayers as a few tears began to roll down her cheeks.

As her eyes began to close for the last time, Sitri happened to see a most wondrous sight. An orb of soft and pulsating light seems to descend from the heavens before entering the body of her newly born child, instantly making his pale countenance flusher with life.

As Sitri departed this world, her last thoughts were of happiness as the goddess had answered her prayers and truly blessed her baby with a miracle.

Thus, on the 20th of the Horsebow Moon in the Imperial Year 1159, death gave birth to new life, a life that would go on to drastically alter the fate of the world as we know it.

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