<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="text-decoration: underline"><div style="text-align: center;">Gless - Grand Cathedral Council Chambers</div></span></span><br/><br/><br/>So much for the start of this convention. The Councilors, even though it had been stressed that it was supposed to be an emergency meeting, were all but interested having been forced out of bed in the most inappropriate of times. Though they were all facing a threat they were unsure if they could even survive,<span style="font-style: italic">everyone</span>still needed to rest, and it holds true especially for these old men and woman; Light knows how much time they were allowed to rest in a day. It started off slow, with Lethe breaking down their findings in detail. As usual, she had given it in an orderly fashion, easily understandable and without much room for questions. Guilford, on the other hand found it rather difficult to stay on track. He had so much in mind regarding the impending attack that even when forcefully pulled away from that map, his mind simply refused to leave. These last few days, his every waking moment, his thoughts, his time and effort... were spent devising strategies, situational counter-offensive tactics that should be employed, possible casualty count, feasible defensive measures... everything about Eve's supposed attack, and until now, even with all that fervor he put into it, there was nothing on his table as of yet.<br/><br/>An exasperated sigh escaped his breath rather unexpectedly, and right when Lethe was divulging critical aspects about their trip to Palaugrim. The rest of the Council shot him a scrutinizing look, just as much as Lance did. Apparently, the unintentional sigh he let out had appeared to be a dismissive manner and much of an improper conduct.<span style="color: #0080FF">"I'm sorry."</span>Gil immediately interjected.<span style="color: #0080FF">"I've been on edge lately..."</span>he paused. Realizing he was not the only one in a precarious situation,<span style="color: #0080FF">"<span style="font-style: italic">We've</span> all been. It would suffice to say that I am just a little exhausted."</span>he continued.<span style="color: #0080FF">"Please, carry on. I didn't mean to interrupt."</span><br/><br/>The rest of the situation came to light, Guilford now paying close attention to the details. It would seem that Lethe strongly believes that whatever it is the Sinners were doing in Santa Olivia, had something to do with a grand scheme by the enemy. She was urging the council to authorize a pre-emptive strike on the operations in Santa Olivia. The panel on the other hand, seemed to take little interest in that one tiny place in Palaugrim. Guilford could understand why. The Council was just preserving as much of their combat capability as they could. Of course, with the imminent threat of Eve and Tethel combined, it would be unwise to send valuable assets to battle just to stop some unknown enemy operation. The Council's argument was sound, they wanted to leave this matter to another unit but Lethe would not yield. It has been a while since Gil saw fire in her eyes like this.<span style="color: #0080FF">"Councilors, it could prove fatal if we leave this matter in the hands of others."</span>Guilford finally spoke up since he last did, taking Lethe's side on the matter.<br/><br/>"Even you Master Guilford?" Cornelius questioned the man, stern eyes landing squarely on the Seraph's being. "We cannot spare a force that big for this operation. You know that do you not?"<br/><br/><span style="color: #0080FF">"Well... Master Lethe believes it could be something big. I have no reason to doubt her."</span>Guilford placated the old councilor.<span style="color: #0080FF">"Though I think we could cut down with the amount of forces she is requesting for this matter."</span><br/><br/>Lethe pressed her lips together but stifled her first response.<span style="color: silver">“I know that we don’t know why things are occurring in Santa Olivia, but there clearly is some underlying motive, as both Knight Lance and I have stated.  We could reduce the forces I requested,”</span>She conceded reluctantly with a nod towards her fellow Seraph,<span style="color: silver"> “but half heartedly committing our troops will just result in failure as well.  I had hoped to cut down on this bargaining by proposing a realistic troop count to begin with.”</span>Her gaze swept over the room, noting the encouragement from Lance, the concern from Master Guilford, the contemplation from Councilor Cornelius, and the blank rejection from the others.<br/><br/><span style="color: silver"> “Councilors, Master Guilford, I’m well aware that our troops will already be stretched thin for the thirteenth.  That’s exactly why I want to make a preemptive strike.  If we can disrupt Eve’s plans, it could either force her to withdraw or, at the very least, diminish some of her threat on the thirteenth.  Any troops we can negate now means one less enemy to face on the thirteenth.”</span>She tried again with just a touch of desperation.  The conversation was going, well truthfully, exactly how she had been preparing herself for.  She had hoped that there might be a bit more support for her idea but even with none, she had to keep trying.<br/><br/><span style="color: #0080FF">"Failure to prepare is preparing to fail..."</span>Guilford mumbled mindlessly, in consideration of his fellow Seraph's previous statements. True, their forces will not only be stretched thin, if he fails to come up with a solid strategy to fend off the two pronged attack, they would suffer great casualty as well. Committing more forces to this proposal would not only serve to hurt their defensive lines, it would endanger a lot of places on the thirteenth.<span style="color: #0080FF">"I'm sure you know what is at stake Master Lethe..."</span>he paused, not really looking to hear a response.<span style="color: #0080FF">"I'd love to hear your realistic troop count for consideration, as well as how you plan to execute this pre-emptive strike."</span><br/><br/>The other Councilors shifted in their seats, seemingly sharing the same interest Guilford had in Lethe's plan of action. Still, their faces entail a not so favorable decision for the matter. It would appear that no matter how reasonable Lethe's arguments are, they are set to deter her in any way possible. If Gil were to pick a side, he wanted to stand beside Lethe, but the situation simply wouldn't allow them to be hasty. One wrong move from their side, as Lance himself had put it in their previous conversation, would tip the balance of the current stalemate.<br/><br/><span style="color: silver"> “The original numbers I gave you are my realistic estimates, Master Guilford.”</span>She replied neutrally, eyes fixed on the Council despite her address.  The temptation to glare at him would be too great to overcome if she dared look in his direction.<span style="color: silver">“Lady Mei, Knight Lance, and I all reviewed the intelligence we had and the troop lists available at Bastille in preparing these estimates.  These are already the lowest number of troops we believe necessary to ensure a victory and still be prepared should there be any surprises.”</span><br/><br/>Guilford need not look at the reports he had in hand to recall the troop estimates. They were just too large to commit to an operation even though Lethe suggested that these are the lowest possible she can take and still ensure victory. Bastille's forces are the ones mainly involved, and Bastille is a critical point that needed to be well defended, less they want the enemy forces breaking through their frontlines into an advantageous position on the field. If he were to redirect forces from nearby towns to compensate, that would serve only to put up a thinner, weaker line of defense for a larger area than just Bastille alone. It was already difficult enough and the bite from Lethe's words are only serving to make things harder.<span style="color: #0080FF"><span style="font-style: italic">Don't take it out on me, I'm on your side!</span></span>he thought solely to himself while thinking of a possible way to compensate.<span style="color: #0080FF">"So your squad, Lance, and a quarter of Bastille's forces is the lowest you can come up with? That's still too much..."</span><br/><br/>"Why don't you go too Gil? Hit fast and hard. What easier way is there to do that other than having two Seraphs lead the attack?" Lance suggested out of the blue, a smile on his face and one hand scratching the back of his head.<br/><br/>"Absolutely Not!" Cornelius roared, temper going a little out of hand after hearing the suggestion from Lance. "We cannot have two Seraphs devoted to a cause when both of them are already a crucial asset for the upcoming attack! Having both of them commit to this operation and leaving nobody to strategize and lead our forces is unacceptable!" he poured on.<br/><br/>Guilford on the other hand, stopped to consider Lance's suggestion. It wasn't the brightest, yet it wasn't completely ridiculous as well. Trust him to come up with reckless but feasible plans in the darkest times. If he should participate in this operation, not only would they not have to commit much of Bastille's forces, they would also have increased chances of success. How hard would it be to take out a Sinner Concentration if two Seraphs are involved? And if they play this right, they could actually pull this off sooner than expected and be back with time to spare for the thirteenth! His thoughts however, were stopped abruptly by Lethe's voice.<br/><br/><span style="color: silver">"Although I have no doubts about Master Guilford's capabilities, at the end of the day, we are only human.  One of the problems, both with Santa Olivia and the impending attack, is that we are simply outnumbered.  I understand why the Council and Master Guilford are reluctant to authorize troops now, but sooner or later, we'll have to face the Sinners stationed in Santa Olivia.  The question is on whose timetable."</span><br/><br/><span style="color: silver">"If we do so now, although they're already entrenched, we have the blueprints for Santa Olivia and can coordinate an offensive.  If we do so later.. we still don't have the guarantee of terrain.  If we hole up within Bastille, it leaves countless villages out to be attacked.  No matter what, we can't defend every village in Palaugrim sufficiently.  If we attack first, there will be less troops roaming Lindela and Palaugrim."</span><br/><br/>She just had to make it sound like she would rather go with Bastille's forces than to have him tag along. It made him feel a little insignificant despite the praise but he would not let it get to him. Guilford sighed a heavy one. While the last thing he wanted was to argue with Lethe, she just had to keep talking as if he was actually against her idea. Perhaps he should correct that train of thought of hers.<span style="color: #0080FF">"Councilors."</span>he called for their attention.<span style="color: #0080FF">"She's right. As much as you all want nothing but the safety of the people, sooner or later we would have to face Santa Olivia's threat. We take it out now, that would be one less burden off our shoulders."</span>Guilford then took a step forward and bowed in respect before the Council.<span style="color: #0080FF">"I plead that you authorize this operation. I will go along with them and take my squad with me. We still have five days before the thirteenth. I only ask that you to give us two days for this. We will return on or before then."</span><br/><br/>It was probably because of sleep deprivation that the rest of the council only offered a scowl. Yet it was clear that they were rather forced to decide. The air was thick with tension as Cornelius raised his seal stamp, ready to bring it down on the operation proposal by Lethe right in front of him. There was no mistaking the bated breath each person in the Chambers shared when Cornelius held that stamp in the air, and the sigh of relief when he brought it down to mark the proposal as authorized. He then turned to the next piece of paper on hand. Lance Fitzherberg's reinstatement request. Lance gulped air as the Council Leader took his time to review it.<br/><br/><blockquote class="uncited"><div>“Alright then. If that’s everything..” Lethe paused to scan over the papers scattered over the table. They had spent the last few hours pouring over maps, troop lists, historical tomes: everything that could maybe shed some light on Santa Olivia and how to counter it. They—she, Lady Mei, and Lance—were certain that something important was going on in the city, though they still weren’t sure what. However, it was enough to have convinced her she needed to persuade the Council to stage an attack on the location, even with Eve’s deadline—the thirteenth of the third month—looming over them. There was no way she’d be able to accomplish such a task over pen and paper. A wyervia had been specially summoned to pick her up. She would return to the Cathedral and cajole the Council to agree with her. The last hour and a half before the wyervia’s arrival had been spent frantically preparing arguments and compiling instructions for her absence, and now the wyervia was due to arrive. It was time to go. She turned her attention to Lance and Mei, “I entrust Bastille and the preparations to you two. May the Divine Light bless you and keep you safe.”<br/><br/>With a nod of farewell, she strode out of the room and headed for uppermost tower. Though large, Bastille had no wyervia port and no space to use as a runway. She would just have to board the wyervia in the air: hard but not impossible, for her. As if summoned by that thought, her Heavens Judgment blades appeared behind her, trailing like a dress’s train. She was half a flight of stairs away from her departure point when the sound of pounding feet caught her attention and she turned to see Lance running up the stairs after her.<br/><br/>“Is something wrong, Lance?”<br/><br/>The orange haired man came to a halt a few steps below, pausing only a moment to calm his breath before he swung back up to a standing position. “I want to come too.”<br/><br/>The Seraph frowned, already shaking her head in negation. “I’ll only be gone for the Council meeting, Lance. I’ll return immediately after.”<br/><br/>“I can help convince the Council!”<br/><br/>“You won’t be allowed in the chambers. Only those in the Pristine Knight division are allowed into the Chamber.” Her voice was apologetic but firm; this was not something she could change, would change just for his sake.<br/><br/>Lance stared up at her and saw… determination, inspiration, conviction, devotion. He saw Guilford, still swathed in bandages and dripping with water, standing at the entryway to the Crest’s humble abode as he declared that he’d take the training for Divine Magic. He saw Brynhildr, eyes flashing gold, as she dashed forward to cut the enemy Pure Sinner in half. He saw Yael, bleeding and cradled in his suddenly too weak arms, smiling helplessly as he asked Lance to… “To create a better world for the people that we love.” The words fell from his lips without his conscious knowledge, but they rung in his ears, echoed until he felt deafened by the realization… “I am,” He remembered the poor family he’d saved and how they’d tried to give him their meager belongings. “a pristine knight..” Even mumbled, the words made him straighten as he remembered the pride he’d felt declaring it to those Palaugrimians. He remembered the pride he’d felt when he first became Knighted. He looked up at Master Lethe, brown eyes burning with a purpose he hadn’t felt in a long time. “I am a Pristine Knight, Master Lethe.”<br/><br/>She said nothing in response for a moment, only the deafening whirl of the wyervia overhead filling the silence, before a fierce smile lighted up her face. A glowing hand reached out to him, “Then let’s go, Knight Lance!”<br/><br/>He lunged forward and grabbed the hand, feeling an unexplainable rush of giddiness.</div></blockquote><br/><br/>A sigh of relief enveloped Lance as Cornelius' seal stamp latched on to his reinstatement request. It was now official! He was back in the service of the Light, a Pristine Knight once more! It couldn't have turned out any better than this. Lethe got her operation approved, he got his pride as a knight back and things are really looking up for him.<br/><br/>After all that's been said and done, the meeting was finally adjourned. He was just about to go tell his friend that the second paper was his reinstatement request but Guilford was no longer in the Chambers. He was too caught up in his own moment to notice that the male Seraph had already walked past him out of the room. It was only Lethe, giving him a reassurring and congratulatory smile that boosted his spirit even higher.<br/><br/>Outside, Guilford waited patiently for his fellow Seraph to step out of the Council Chamber. In his right hand he held a familiar shaped necklace. It was like any other Faith necklace a Pristine Knight has but this one belonged to Lethe. He remembered the time she 'tried' to return his Faith necklace to him, only to mistakenly give him her own. He'd been wondering if she actually realized that she was holding on to his Faith necklace all this time.<br/><br/>With a final pat of congratulations, Lethe slipped around the still ecstatic Lance.  It was nice to see him in such an upbeat mood.  While she was happy for him, there was still a lot that needed to be done to prepare for the assault on Santa Olivia.  At the very least, she’d secured the troops and Master Guilford’s assistance.  She would also need to inform her squad, inform Lady QianHua, and begin the preparations.  She paused her mental tally of things to do at the sight of her fellow Seraph loitering outside the Chambers.  She had been surprised, and thankful, for his assistance in convincing the Council.<span style="color: silver">“Master Guilford,”</span>She greeted, gratitude warming her voice.<span style="color: silver">“Are you waiting for Lance?”</span><br/><br/>It was all he needed to hear. Though she appeared to be warmer than he last remembered, she was still on about calling him Master Guilford and was evidently getting used to it. It was disheartening, as it was equally painful to have to see the distance continuing to grow between them. Guilford finally shook his head. He slowly walked towards Lethe, one hand that held her necklace gripping it tightly. He didn't want to return this if he could help it, but what was not willingly given would hold meaningless in all respects. He reached out for Lethe's right hand, fast enough before she could react and gently slid the item into her open palm.<span style="color: #0080FF">"This is yours."</span>he said with a low tone, unsure if he sounded sad or filled with regret.<br/><br/>Lethe looked down at the item in her hand.  A Faith?  Why would Gil say that this was hers?  She turned the necklace over only to be greeted with a familiar spoked circle: patience.<span style="color: silver">“What?”</span>She asked aloud in confusion, her other hand going to the Faith she had resting under her shirt.  If her Faith was in her hand, then what was she wearing around her neck?  She extracted her necklace and pulled it off, flipping it over to reveal a sword with wings: Guilford’s seal.  Hadn’t she returned it to him?  She stared at the two Faiths in confusion before understanding finally struck.<span style="color: silver">“Lights above!  I’m so sorry!”</span>Color flooded her cheeks even as she thrust the hand with Guilford’s necklace out, accidentally knocking into his chest.<span style="color: silver"> “I’m so sorry, Gil.  I hadn’t meant to run off with your Faith. I thought I’d returned it.”</span>Lethe babbled, too flustered to realize how close they were or the slip of her tongue.<span style="color: silver">“I’m so sorry.  I hope it didn’t cause you too much trouble.”</span>She winced at the thought of how much paperwork he had to have gone through without his seal.<br/><br/>He wanted to laugh. Really, if this is what it takes to hear her call him by his nickname again, he would gladly do this over and over again. But alas, it was very late into the night and he was so dreadfully tired. He almost felt nothing, which quite frankly, scared him that he too was getting accustomed to the distance that was growing between them. A smile, faint in comparison to what he usually musters around his lips, was all that he could afford, even when her hand pressed into his chest, even with how close the two of them were standing together, he felt like stone. After a few seconds of looking into her round blue eyes, Guilford finaly moved. With a gentle motion using his right hand, Guilford slowly accepted his Faith necklace, careful enough to not suggest anything with the way his hand brushed against hers when he plucked the item from Lethe's grip.<span style="color: #0080FF">"Think nothing of it."</span>he softly said with reassuring eyes. She probably had no idea that he had a spare seal, yet there would be no point in telling her that. With a nod of thanks, Guilford turned around. He wanted to say so much more, but this much should be okay for now...<br/><br/><span style="color: #0080FF">"We have two days. Best get to it."</span>he reminded her in a friendly manner before waking his way.