#[arin hanson voice] here we goooOOOOoooOOoOoooooOOOO

[avemaera]

after his first meeting with deirdre in years, after seeing for himself that deirdre does not remember him, that deirdre had married another man, sigurd feels as if he needs time to himself. he feels fit to burst with the out of emotions playing out in his head. grief, anger, joy at being able to see her again, self-pity, among many many others.

he figures that the church is somewhere quiet enough. he is not someone of fodlan's faith, but he knows that people will not bother him in there. that he will get some time to himself to think about everything that happened in the last day or two. he may get a nun or two asking him if he's alright, but that's a lot different than having to have a full conversation with even a friend.

truthfully, he is still not able to process that deirdre had married arvis. it baffles him, doesn't feel like something that could happen. even if deirdre truly had lost her memories on accident, wouldn't arvis have known? known that she was actually sigurd's wife? none of it makes sense and it all gives him a headache.

he lets out a frustrated sigh, pushing open the grandiose church doors. it was relatively quiet in the place like he thought it would be, a few students were clearly praying to the gods, and there were some nuns around, but he knew he would be left alone to explore his feelings by himself.

that's what he thinks; until he spots him in what he assumes is the alter of fodlan's god(s). that familiar burning red hair. arvis.

an ugly anger bubbles up inside him, an anger that he can't find it in himself to control. he clenches his fist, standing there for a moment to try and calm down, but it doesn't work. all he sees is red, all he feels are the flames from his nightmares.

before he knows it, he is already grabbing arvis by his collar, lifting him off the ground just ever so slightly thanks to his strength. sigurd's movement is stiff and his aura clearly radiates off a genuine anger at even seeing the man.

"arvis, you dastard!" he shouts, not even thinking about the people in the church. the only people in the room to him right now are himself and arvis. nothing else matters in that moment. "what the hell have you done with my wife!?" his tone is seething with a pure and burning hatred. he's not sure what kind of answer he'll get, but he'll get it out of arvis' mouth no matter what.

His work finally settled in Jugdral, Arvis was not far behind Deirdre in their political excursion to Fodlan. Azmur was not much longer for this world, and the groundwork for his own empire had precious little time. The continent was weak and fractured, its country's powers collapsing to him now. But he would build them up again, and he would start with a strong foundation.

He would ensure he had foreign allies to call upon, and if they only asked he teach his magic? He was all the more flattered to.

He had not had a chance to explore this monastery when he had come for his interview weeks ago, and he needed a moment to breathe in this fresh air and unroll his spine before he tried to meet back up with Deirdre in their rooms. Arvis wandered a while, eventually coming upon a grand cathedral at the ground's heart. The vaulted ceilings kissing the heavens and letting in her light. Fodlan seemed to love her Goddess oh so much, and he would have to remember this in his pleasantries. He admired the craftsmanship of their own Saint's statues and holy finery, before he feels himself being grabbed-

Grabbed and lifted above the ground. Arvis is ready to demand an explanation before-

Before his eyes shoot open wide at what he sees. No, this must be a joke. A vision, an illusion, a trick! He was staring at a dead man! Killed by his very own hands! He was sure of it, there was no mistaking it, he made sure Sigurd was dead.

Yet here he was, and by whatever trickery didn't matter right now. By some divine twist, Sigurd had now gotten the jump on Arvis. He was raving and mad, and Arvis wouldn't answer for anything until he was put down.

"Sigurd." He seethed "Unhand me now if you know what's good for you."