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[sub]Interacting with [@webboysurf] as Edmund | Mentions [@Obscene Symphony][@Scribe of Thoth][@Hero][/sub][/center][hr]
	The weeks succeeding the Millennial Ceremony were one of turbulence. The dead were buried, the people mourned, and the country became astir with uncertainty. For some, the atmosphere would’ve been tense, frightening even. What was thought to be a peaceful greeting of the new millenia had turned into the beginnings of a storm, and not many were prepared to greet it.

	But for Theobald, the timing could not be better.

	After the Templars’ second-in-command chastised him for his actions, the former soldier had kept himself scarce. Only showing his face when it was expected to do so, or out of respect for another. Perhaps it would’ve been surprising to see him at the Scion of Shadow’s funeral, his lumbering figure outfitted in his finest uniform, a strange sight when the two had never even traded a word. 

	Were it not for the Ceremony, he would have never shown up at all, yet he heard of the fallen noble’s attempts to protect the people and his fellow Scions despite the condition that would ultimately take the young man’s life. It was one thing to be a spoiled child who toyed with the Goddess’ power to save one’s self, it was another to fight for others while ignoring their own crippling circumstances. Theobald could respect that.

	What he could not respect, however, was Irina’s complete rejection of his claims in the short time they had spoken, and it was her abject dismissal of his very being that gnawed at him in his times of solitude. There were many things she spoke plainly and true, spearing his desires so viciously it was as if he was still a young boy in Rodion’s training camps, but outright ignoring the true enemy to attack his character just because of an act of discipline drew a shadow of doubt over his war hero’s favored assistant.

	A war was inevitable after the smoking gun of that ballroom incident, and no matter how much she wished to coddle the Scions, they would be dragged into it whether they liked it or not. A soldier among the targets the enemy thought to be docile sheep was a powerful weapon, and yet she’d rather dull his blade rather than sharpen it.

	At the very least, the church had finally realized the error of their ways and taken away the reminder of his previous foe and replaced it with someone useful. Dame Ionna was someone he knew little of, but her brief display of dedication and strength was enough to draw his favor. Perhaps [i]she[/i] could become the grindstone he needed to become a sword sharp enough to pierce this invisible enemy’s heart, rather than a shackle to drag him down into obscurity.

	Unfortunately, during the weeks leading up to the meeting at the Scion of Time’s castle he hadn’t had a chance to test her mettle, but with his own free time he had polished his weapons. Returned to his former training regimen, not for retention and habit as he previously had, but to prepare for the battles that were on the horizon. 

	So when, at the table of conference, the talk of a war with Kaudus began to circulate, the former soldier sat at attention with a half-eaten cookie crushed within his fist. He did not attempt to speak, with the conversation being mainly between the royalty of kingdoms he did not dare, but it wouldn’t take a psychic to notice the tension in his corner of the room. Silently, his presence declared that he sided with the princess of Rosaria and the Scion of Gravity, and his gaze swept toward one of the few he thought of as friend.

	He was unsurprised to hear Edmund’s take on the situation. The Templar was someone he thought to be of sound mind, cautious yet firm, unwilling to add fuel to a fire that could aid a third party. But in this scenario, he would rather have his friend’s support rather than allow Edmund to sit on the fence.

	[color=firebrick]”Think of it as a hunting exercise,”[/color] Theobald attempted, not directly addressing the royals as that would be above his station, but speaking loud enough that they could hear as he spoke to the Templar of Gravity. [color=firebrick]”To catch a cunning fox, you catch a rabbit. Dangle it in an open space and make it look tantalizing enough for the fox to bite, only to fall into the hunter’s trap.”[/color]

 What exactly was the rabbit in this scenario was up to debate, but he wouldn’t be the one to speak on it. [color=firebrick]”These ‘heretics’ have been silent, still and coiled waiting to strike. We have to draw them out of their den, and cut out their throat when they overextend themselves.”[/color]