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A few aisles down from where he was standing, Kellen spotted Imogen looking in his direction. She was smiling, though in a way that made it difficult to determine what the source of her amusement could be. As he pondered this, a memory came back to him. Back at the village, before the explosion, Imogen had covered Kellen's ears. Perhaps she was perceptive to some sign of magic that he hadn't been, or perhaps there had been some other indication of what was to come that he had failed to notice in the haze of impending combat. Regardless. She had identified a source of danger well before he had. He was half concerned that she could sense another omen hanging over him now. Shakily, he nodded at her, feeling the world lurch a little as his head came back to center. Speaking to her might be helpful, or only further cement that terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that refused to ease.

He looked back to the remaining Lions. He nodded in agreement with Derec’s stated concerns over Lienna, though he couldn’t find much fault in her reaction. Truth be told, he would likely have elicited similar commentary if he hadn’t taken the pains to work through the endless waves of dread alone in the “safety” of his room. As he turned to look at Auberon, he saw the blond looking at him with an expression that Kellen found difficult to interpret. Before he could inquire, Auberon spoke, offering an unexpected assessment, a clear statement of confusion, and a pat on the back with an unanticipated force that prompted a quiet “Oof,”from the youngest Fraldarius.

He didn’t have much he could say to his House Leader’s assessment. In truth, he wasn’t sure where words and sentiments like the one he expressed came from either. Was it a sense of obligation? A belief that such an offer wouldn’t be taken up by any of his classmates? Or a genuine attempt to help? He wasn't sure. Instead of offering some sort of analysis, he merely looked at Auberon for a moment. “Um, Thank you.” There wasn’t an ounce of assurance or heroism in his trembling tone. Still, to hear his House Leader say such a thing brought some sense of pride to Kellen, even if a piece of him wasn’t sure how much either he or Auberon truly believed it.

As Auberon was whisked away, to tea with the Archbishop no less, Kellen offered what could only be described charitably as a smile. “Have a good time.” The ghost of a grin faded quickly as Auberon requested they try to talk to Lienna.
“Erm…” The sound escaped from Kellen's mouth before he could form words. “Derec, if you want to go, I could-” He paused a moment. “I would come with you.” He wasn’t about to push Derec into doing it, but between walking alone or trying to get Lienna to express any sort of vulnerability by himself, he wasn’t sure which prospect was more anxiety-inducing.
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"Uh...yeah."

The response was a pathetic one, but admittedly Derec wasn't entirely sure how to reply. Granted, his paranoia had him decidedly on edge, but he supposed so long as his identity was kept under wraps, he would likely be fine. Unfortunately, maybe because of that, he could just as likely be thrown to the wolves to save the more valuable nobles. That would be extremely convenient to those that saw him as an obstacle, too. Still, he was just as concerned for his friends--teammates? They were more than acquaintances for sure--and their safety. If anyone did try to go after Kellen, at least he was sure he'd intervene in some way or another.

Once Lysander informed Auberon of the invitation, Derec frowned to himself. If the faculty was calm, then they should be, too, right? He pushed those thoughts aside once Auberon gave his last comment on Lienna. At least Kellen was willing to go along with him.

"Let's just check up on her, this sort of news could be scary for a girl," Derec suggested as he rose from his seat. Nevermind that he remembered much too late that he was the one that had caused her to leave their team session, but he hoped Kellen's presence would mitigate her hatred of him. He paused for a moment as a thought crossed his mind. "Do you think this has anything to do with Luin?" He lowered his voice, figuring it was better to be safe.


Jorah's voice brought Isolde out of her thoughts as her fingers released her hair. Nervous? She didn't feel nervous. She wondered if she was unintentionally coming off that way. As he leaned back, she sat up a touch to straighten her back. She didn't want anyone coming to comfort her or assume she was a wreck. Then again, getting lost in thought didn't really look good either.

Her eyes followed Jorah as he leaned back and spoke of the curfew. It didn't really surprise her to learn that their leader thought little of the threat, and it wasn't surprising to learn he wouldn't take the curfew seriously. The only thing that did surprise her was that he didn't immediately go to Clarissa and chose her to address instead. Her initial response was to decline, though the words never came. It wasn't wise to invite that sort of talk, but this was probably the first time he acknowledged her. This could be seen as an opportunity.

Crossing one leg over the other, Isolde leaned back in her seat, looking upwards. She did not like that thought. And yet, she said, "The company would be appreciated...especially after hours." Her voice was quieter, words meant just for his ears. Outwardly, she was rather calm, but inwardly she would have liked nothing more than to just keel over right then and there. And she had the audacity to do this in the Goddess' view!

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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by POOHEAD189
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A Promise of Blades


(A Kalliope & Kayden Collab)



Kayden had waited until his team had decided to look away before he slid off into the bustling assemblage of the dismissed congregation. Being made into an only child at a young age, Kayden was good at slipping through crowds and being unseen. All the years he spent escaping tutors or the wrath of his father had been good practice. He had not learned to make an entrance until later, but he was glad that he had acquired the skills for both, seeing Tomai and Kalliope hopefully finishing their conversation. Once he was past the throng of people, Kayden held himself up, squaring his shoulders and turning his well-formed face in just the right way to accentuate his jawline. He still held a few baubles, rings, and a single earring that befitted his station as prince, and though he was dressed accordingly as a student, he always made sure he was a very dashing one.

Only for a second did he feel a small sense of trepidation at the prospect of coming over to sweet talk one of the staff of Garreg Mach, much less the Knight Captain of Seiros. However, he hadn’t flirted with a woman in ages, so he decided ‘fuck it’ and sought to wing it. Firstly he needed to get rid of Tomai, and smart though Kayden was, he didn’t know Tomai well enough to send him on some errand. He was his professor, but the man had never been interested in anyone who wasn’t a magic-user, including the guild leader, Kayden himself. The prince waited a few seconds for the two to notice him before he ascended the three stone steps to stand before them. Kayden granted a courtly bow, not too low to show submission, but just enough to give respect. He made sure to use the proper inflection in his voice, and prayed to the goddess his crest held strong.

“Apologies for my interruption, professor. No doubt you do great service to the safety of us all in speaking with Knight Commander Kalliope. I was of like mind, truth be told. I know you’ve many duties to attend to, so I thought to speak to the Knight Kalliope myself about our hold’s defences once your talk was concluded.” He gave the barest hint of a pause after ‘concluded.’ The last words always held the most weight, and his crest tended to add just that ounce more of it. “I would also suggest speaking with Rudolf, as he gets intimidated quite easily, and with this whole affair of missing students, I think as a fellow mage, he would listen to you.”

Tomai wasn’t entirely impressed by Kayden’s arrival, albeit he would take any excuse to get away. He gave Kayden a short bow as he turned, taking a step backward and away from the pair. “Speak to your heart’s content, Your Highness,” He said, only briefly making eye contact with Kalliope before stepping away and choosing to linger elsewhere.

Kalliope wasn’t too happy, though it was clear she was more annoyed with Tomai. Once he was out of earshot, she let herself give the smallest huff of annoyance before giving her attention to the prince. “It honors me that you would take an interest; I am more than happy to ease any concerns you may have,” She told him.

“No believe me, the honor is mine,” He remarked earnestly, stepping closer. “I’ve overheard a lot about your reputation, so I’m mostly professionally curious.”

While he certainly had ulterior motives, Kayden was actually interested in how the Knight Commander ran things. “Before I was heir, I was raised and tutored as a soldier and a general, and while that obviously changed, the lessons never left. I still feel like that was my lot in life, and since you’re accomplished from all I hear, tell me what exactly is being done about the student’s protection?” He asked, speaking casually as if they were speaking over wine. That thought wasn’t an unpleasant one.

“The Knights of Seiros makes up their lack of numbers by refining the soldiers they do have. One knight can take out ten,” Kalliope stated, the smallest hint of pride in her tone. “Most, if not all who desire to join our ranks are trained here and provide the bodies needed so that Garreg Mach Monastery is never under-guarded. That isn’t to say the current guards are undertrained; the end of their training coincides with the start of the new school year, and they gain experience as the days pass under the mentorship from the senior members.”

An interesting system, Kayden thought to himself.

The woman looked after Tomai, a small glint in her eye. “The staff here are all expertly trained in combat as well, though I’m sure you’ve already seen your professors in action,” She chuckled as she looked back at him. “While Michail is a Knight of Seiros, the rest have varying experiences from elsewhere. If I recall correctly, Professor Malathice studied at Enbarr’s Royal University. Professor Kalonic--that is, Miss Euphemia--also squired under a Roundtable Knight in the Leicester Alliance. Professor Roland was one of my squires before he decided to teach, and I believe Professor Simeon was trained by the previous Archbishop.”

“Taking into account their schedules and capabilities, it’s easy for them to fill any gaps needed. Their proximity to the students makes it easy as well,” She concluded. “Despite the rumors, the Dormitory and the Cathedral are impenetrable.”

“Very praetorian,” he noted with at least a modicum of respect. “Meaning that as a compliment, of course. Not nearly as feudal as our system, though the Imperial Guards at my palace are some of the best in the world. Hand picked for loyalty and skill.” He held his head high, blue eyes steeled as if daring her to challenge the claim. Moments later, he smiled fondly. “I was lucky enough to have one of them teach me the basics, but my instructor of the sword was a duelist. I often wonder how it would have been if I kept up with my tutoring as an arsmen.”

He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. Somehow it remained rakish, even after the motion. “You taught some of the professors, right? Must be strange seeing them teach students that were likely as bad as them. And wait...you’re extremely young, how long have you been the Commander?”

At Kayden’s last statement, Kalliope let out a rather hearty laugh. “I’ll take the compliment, but I’m older than I look,” She ended up admitting once her laughter died down. “Granted, I’ve been Commander for just under a decade and served as a Knight for two. Michail did serve as my squire once the knight he served ended up retiring, though aside from some sparring matches, I haven’t taught anyone else from the beginning like I did with Lysander. The latter’s a better teacher than I could ever be, though it’s a shame he decided to put all his efforts into education. But eh, he enjoys it, he’s good at it, so I can’t help but take pride that he found his calling.”

She frowned to herself for a moment. “...think it was Lady Arianthe that asked Michail to teach, though I was surprised,” She told him. “Not that I don’t think he’s capable, but he certainly has...a unique way of teaching. It’s nice to see him make the effort, though I got plenty of complaints that he’s being too rough on your lot.”

Kayden failed at hiding his smile, a chortle escaping his lips. He was not disbelieving anything, but the thought of Michail as a squire, following someone about was hilarious to him. “Well two decades as a knight is definitely nothing to scoff at. I’ve only practiced with the sword for one, and I’ve only seen two real engagements. I never thought one of them would be here, but the world outside of the palace is full of surprises.

He found himself grinning. He found her attractive, but he was expecting someone either uninterested in speaking at all, or a hardass. She was actually very easy to speak to, he realized. His conscience got the better of him, which he usually found grating. He decided not to be shameless for once, and also for once, he didn’t feel overly vexxed about it. He side eyed the crowd, somehow suspicious eyes were on him. Veronica’s was his main concern, but he didn’t want to grant the other guilds any ammo on him, regardless. The Lions and the Deer weren’t having the best go of it, and he would be damned if the Eagles fell due to his lack of restraint. Still, he couldn’t quite let it go…

Turning back to her, he spoke. “I know you’d likely recommend one of the professors, and I can imagine how busy you probably are with...well everything that is happening.” He shrugged, continuing with a glint in his eyes. “But that being said, would you care to show me a few moves in the sparring ring sometime? Getting some hands-on lessons from the Commander would be amazing. I don’t entirely know what I can give you in return but since I seem to be emperor someday, I’m sure I can think of something.”

He imagined she would turn him down, but he wanted to ask regardless. He wasn’t lying about being interested in what she could teach him with the sword. Kayden only slightly asked because he was unapologetically interested in her.

“I’m honored that you’d ask. As long as you understand that I won’t be as easy an instructor as Michail, of course,” Kalliope replied. “I usually hover around the arena on the weekends whenever I have the time."

Oh shit... Had he been alone, he would have fist pumped and exclaimed ‘Yes!’ but at the current time, he simply did his best to hide how thrilled he was with a courtly poise. “Awesome. I wouldn’t be excited if I thought you’d hold back.” He cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow. “I won’t either.” He said, but it fell short and he made sure to chuckle and treat it as a joke. He knew it would be all he could do to stay alive.

"I’d be insulted otherwise,” Kalliope returned his jest with one of her own. Her eyes wandered to the rest of the room, the buzz of the cathedral becoming one less tense than before. She seemed a little relieved, though after a few seconds, she looked back at the prince. "Did you have any other questions for me?”

“Uh, yes.” He confessed. It was time for him to be a bit more responsible. He stepped closer and leaned in to speak more softly. “I understand if you can’t exactly share, or if no one really knows anything yet. But I wouldn’t be a good Guild Leader if I didn’t ask...do you know or have an inkling of what happened to those students?” He looked at her, gauging her reaction. “Is this a coordinated attack, or a spell gone wrong? Is it just possible that two students ran away and evaded security?”

“You’d have to ask Michail or Chionne, I don’t know the exact details of what happened,” She admitted. “Considering how late they were, I’m more inclined to believe they ran away. You’d be surprised how many noble kids take advantage of being away from their parents to run off and start lives of their own.”

Kayden hid his smile. The fact he didn’t get along with his father and truly did not want to marry the bride he had been assigned, he had certainly been tempted that same way. But Kalliope wasn’t privy to his thoughts so she couldn’t appreciate the irony.

“You don’t say? Well, I suppose that is all of my questions for now.” He replied, giving a small bow of respect. “I look forward to crossing blades with you this weekend.”

Kalliope nodded in acknowledgement before her eyes searched the now-thin crowd. Letting out a slightly disappointed sigh, she gave Kayden a shallow bow before taking her leave.
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While the gardens in the monastery were always impeccably taken care of, there was a different feel when it came to the one on the rooftop. For one, all but a select few were forbidden from ascending to the third level as it was where the Archbishop resided. For another, it doubled as a sanctuary for a few rare flowers that were too delicate to be placed in the Greenhouse. It also had an intricate waterfall system that added to the serenity of the area, as well as a view of the grounds below should one look. A few workers had brought out the table and a trio of chairs placed at the center. The cook in the cafeteria had sent up an assortment of baked goods and small treats that would go well with the bergamot tea that the Archbishop had requested.

Ioannis himself was all too happy to have his seat, leaning back and nibbling on a tiny pastry as he waited. Once a nun approached him and informed him that the students arrived, however, he hastily chewed and swallowed the treat fully. He adjusted his headpiece slightly as he felt a tassel tangle itself in his hair, smoothing everything out before sitting up.

The pair met with Sister Margaret, who was happy to lead them upstairs. The guards eyed the students for a brief moment before allowing them to ascend to the third floor with the nun. On entering the garden, she motioned for the two to continue onwards, giving them a bow before taking her leave.

Ioannis gave them a small wave. “Welcome!” He was considerably brighter than before as he motioned to the empty chairs. “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice.”

Clarissa all but shook with excitement. She’d not forgotten they’d agreed to take tea together at some point but she figured it’d have been scheduled far further into the year, especially considering the morning’s news. Perhaps the Archbishop too needed something relaxing to steal his mind away while the Knights set about the business of tightening their hold on the situation. Perhaps this was simply the only time he had available in his hectic schedule for the foreseeable future. Whatever the reason may be, Clarissa wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Oh, this is exciting! I suppose in the wake of the morning, this is just what we all need to keep our spirits up!” She spoke to Auberon as Sister Margaret escorted them upstairs. She needed the distraction otherwise impatience would have her stepping on the Sister’s heels as if it was her birthday and she was no more than a little girl. “I’m glad our House is taking everything well. I’m suspicious that there wasn’t more outcry about the recommended precautions but I suppose that they’ll chafe after a few days. How did the Lions handle the news?” Clarissa asked as they entered the rooftop garden.

Auberon followed their escort at a leisurely pace, more interested in the scenery than their destination at the moment. He’d never been up this high in the cathedral - he was pretty sure he wasn’t even allowed under normal circumstances. An animated Clarissa was similarly a new sight; not that he would describe her as aloof or cold normally, but she certainly was buzzing with something beyond her usual calm refinement. Not that he could really blame her.

“Indeed. It’s a welcome distraction,” The blond responded, though he paused before he chose to actually address her question about how his House handled the news. If he had to guess, he’d say ‘not well’, but that’s all it would’ve been: a guess. “Honestly, I wish I could tell you. Kellen is inscrutable as ever, Lienna stormed off, and Derec… didn’t really comment.”

Saints above, when he laid it all out, it felt even worse than he thought. He didn’t really know what any of them were thinking. Sure, Auberon had done his part and opened himself up for feedback later, but incentivizing them to actually take him up on the offer was another matter entirely. Kellen probably expected another lecture and Lienna… was Lienna.

With a frown now marring his otherwise impassive face, Auberon adjusted his cape uncomfortably. House Leader. Right. “Maybe you can help me with that. You seem to have the Deer pretty well in line and I can’t help but think I’m doing something wrong.”

Clarissa listened with no small degree of sympathy. After the Lion’s explosive disagreement during the critique segment of training the other day, Clarissa didn’t doubt Auberon’s hands were full. Her restless anticipation quieted as her energy was put to better use. “Comparing the Lions in any way to the Deer is certainly a futile exercise. The Deer has students who are naturally open, earnest, and looking for friends and connections. We thrive off a strong sense of community and so we’re naturally inclined to get along. We have those inclined to their own council, of course, but even then, we work alongside each other to take ourselves to greater heights. Jorah, despite the childishness that he clings to like a comfort blanket, is a natural at bringing people together so even if we did find a few rough patches, I’d have every confidence we’d surpass it quickly enough. Your Lions however…”

Clarissa trailed off as she took in the surroundings. The serene space was certainly fit for the Archbishop; she couldn’t imagine a better place to disappear to for a few moments of quiet respite. She took a deep breath, savoring the aroma of flowers that drifted through the garden, and returned the Archbishop’s smile with a grin of her own, offering him a curtsy before she accepted one of the seats. “Please Archbishop, the pleasure is all ours. You could have summoned us in the middle of the night and I have no doubt that Auberon would have been as eager as myself to answer your call.” Clarissa assured him eagerly. “Though, please forgive me for continuing a previous conversation but your wisdom might prove more valuable than mine in this matter, Archbishop.”

“As I was saying, the Lions are drastically different in manner and goal than the Deer. Your Lions seem like they're in survival mode, either teeth bared and posturing or tail between their legs and shrunken into their own shadows. I can’t say much about Derec or even Kellen but Lienna I’ve had the privilege of conversing with on more than one occasion. She’s in a place that doesn’t fit her, a person thrown into a place she never dreamed she’d be because it wasn’t ever possible. She doesn’t trust and what we believe is constructive criticism, she may well perceive as affirmation that she doesn’t belong and she didn’t get where is now by rolling over at anyone who blew a little steam her way. Your Lions are wrapped up in protecting themselves because they think they need to; they don’t see that their countrymen are there to support them.” Clarissa dove into the conversation whole heartedly, always ready to share her opinion. And if she’d been waiting for an opportunity to guide the dysfunctional group in a better direction, well… only the Goddess and Jorah would know. “I don’t think you're doing anything wrong, Auberon. You were given a difficult task but it’s one I have no doubt you’ll rise to. You just need to connect with them to find the common cause that they can all connect to.”

Ioannis couldn’t help but frown a little at the subject. It was difficult to address, to say the least, but it was his fault to begin with. The smallest of sighs escaped him as he shook his head. “No need to ask for forgiveness where it isn’t needed,” He assured Clarissa first. “As for the Lions...it’s a delicate situation. Emotions aren’t so easy to handle. However, I don’t believe that this is necessarily an obstacle. It is through hardship that people find themselves coming together.”

He turned the plate so that the majority of treats faced the two students. “I did hear from Professor Michail that there was some friction before. What steps have been taken to address this?” He asked. “I can try to give you feedback and see what we can do on harmonizing everyone.”

Once again, Auberon found Clarissa’s words succinct and to the point. Perhaps he had assigned too much civility to his housemates’ actions; that there was some higher thinking process behind their guarded nature and not simple animalistic fear. They really could stand to write a manual on interaction with the peasantry sometime.

The Archbishop’s question was far less welcome. Not that it seemed malicious or even detrimental to the situation, but that it left a sour reminder that nothing Auberon had done had been effective. He’d barely known what to try to begin with. The blond took his seat with a grateful bow of his head toward their host, then paused in quiet contemplation, his thoughts spinning through a recap of precisely everything he had done to end up in his position.

“I’m… not sure I even know what steps I should be taking,” Auberon admitted with a shameful dip of his head, “Trying to talk about it - or just about anything of import - gets everyone incensed. I assume it’s because they take it to be a lecture, and neither Kellen or Lienna are particularly open about their thoughts regardless.” Derec likewise seemed like a bad choice to collaborate with, given how spectacularly he’d offended Lienna with his commoner platitudes.

“Kellen might just need time - there’s a knight in there somewhere, I know it - but I’ll confess I’m utterly lost on how to handle Lienna.”

Ioannis’ mouth formed a small ‘o’ in understanding. “That does sound difficult. I had hoped the group would have some form of unity, but perhaps the events that have transpired so far have instead fractured,” He looked down at his lap for a moment. “...perhaps finding things in common would help? Hobbies, books, things of that nature, for example. I always find solace with those who like to read scriptures, but I understand that there are some that would rather spend their free time gardening, or sewing, or practicing musical instruments.”

Scratching his chin, he continued with, “I suppose such a thing must sound odd considering this place is equivalent to a military academy of sorts. But perhaps approaching from a personal level would help?”

Auberon narrowed his eyes. Like most avenues he’d considered, it was solid in theory but easier said than done. He didn’t think he’d seen either of them express interest in hobbies. Lienna sounded like she only did things out of necessity and Kellen hardly ever left his room. What did he even do in there? Read? Knit? He certainly didn’t seem up to join Auberon for a morning sparring session. Maybe he could at least talk him down to the cathedral on a day they didn’t have class.

The blond’s nose wrinkled up distastefully for a moment, though he quickly regained his composure, lest the Archbishop think he’d taken offense to his advice. “I don’t think we have very much in common. Kellen’s a bit of a homebody and Lienna apparently thinks the Goddess - Saint Seiros forgive me for even repeating it - hates her.” Hesitantly, he reached for a dessert bread from the offered tray and chewed on it in pensive silence.

The boy audibly gasped at Auberon’s last sentence, hand flying to his mouth. “Surely Lienna knows that isn’t true!” He said worriedly. “The Goddess would never hate anyone! As is told in the scriptures, ‘The people who belong to this world don’t recognize that we are the Goddess’s children because they don’t know Her, but as She calls us Her children, that is proof enough of Her love for us.’ I can’t possibly imagine what would possess her to think of such a thing.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Auberon agreed wearily.

Clarissa looked at the pair like they’d each grown a second head, truly bewildered at the absurdity of the conversation. Was learning about each other, developing trust and mutual respect out of a genuine and deep personal connection, such a foreign concept? Even if friendship was out of the question, at least understanding the motivations and passions that drove the people who fight alongside you on the battlefield would help you make better tactical decisions. And yet, they discussed it as a secondary goal as if it wasn’t as important as learning the calculations for a trebuchet or the positioning of infantry to break a charge.

She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. She respects both of them, of course; Auberon is unwavering in his faith and adamant in his course and Ioannis bears a burden far heavier than any boy his age should and he does it with an ease and grace Clarissa is envious of. But that doesn’t change the fact that Auberon’s determination made him inflexible and at the end of the day, Ioannis was just a boy.

Still, she found her temper flaring.

“Auberon, I know you aren’t one to jest in serious situations but I am hoping that the sudden urge for hilarity caught you at an inappropriate time because you cannot seriously tell me Lienna gave you the greatest gift of vulnerability since you’ve know her and all you did was tell her she was wrong.” Clarissa snapped. “She clearly hasn’t had the luxury of life that we’ve enjoyed until now. She could barely read when I first met her and she was only trying to figure out the dorming arrangements. She mimics our posturing and mannerisms with a desperation that is borderline hysterical and instead of offering her a hand, you showed her a fist.” Clarissa paused, her shoulders tense and brow furrowed.

Hearing that Lienna believed the Goddess hated her made this feel personal because she could have been Lienna. Not in the same raging against the world way but the quiet, resigned way. She was hesitant to share this story, the only one privy to it until now Jorah, but if it would help Auberon understand how to help Lienna, then she supposed she could part with some of it. Saints above, what a way to spend tea with Ioannis. “I very well could have turned into someone much like Lienna. The Alliance doesn’t put much stock in the Church and my father is very much a man of the Alliance but my mother… She is truly a Goddess fearing woman and I do not use the word fear interchangeably with love. She hides away from the world, certain she is to pay penance for the sins of our ancestors through her submission to the church so that her taint won’t spread to others. And if it weren't for Bishop Jehan leading me to the Goddess, I doubt I'd have found the resolve to escape the festering self loathing she intended for me." Clarissa reached out for a pastry, taking a moment to savor the treat.

"If Lienna believes the Goddess hates her, then no amount of scripture will change that. Scripture is for those who find comfort and solace and direction in the Goddess and Her infinite love for her children, not those who feel ostracized and abandoned. Those poor souls are searching for the lighthouse on a stormy night, in a place where their sorrow and despair snatched away your voice like the cruel winds that drive you against the cliffs." Clarissa took another bite, considering how to best put it. She'd feel mortified later but in the moment it just seemed right. After all, how better to capture the feeling of a commoner than with their own vernacular. "As Jorah says, everyone talks big until the trousers come off."

Auberon opened his mouth to protest almost immediately, though the vigor of Clarissa’s outburst led him to stay his tongue until she had said her piece. Clearly he had done something wrong, but he’d hardly call what he offered a fist. What was he to call such a misguided soul other than wrong? Quite frankly, he wasn’t even certain he understood her point. Vulnerability wasn’t a gift, it was a flaw to be ruthlessly exploited in one’s foes and gallantly protected in one’s allies.

“In my defense,” Auberon huffed calmly, “she stormed off right after she said it and I was admittedly a bit too stunned to offer much of substance. It’s hard to evangelize when someone’s already mad at you and, honestly, I’m at a loss on what approach to even take.” He turned his glance searchingly to Ioannis. Child or not, this was doubtlessly his area of expertise, and he was fairly certain Lienna would listen to anyone over Auberon Galatea at this point. He was no bishop leading the congregation for the ignorant masses; he spoke with his blade and he was quite certain there was no way to beat the Goddess into someone, nor would he even want to.

The young boy’s jaw dropped at Clarissa’s words, though he had the manners to close it and properly sink into his seat, uncertain. “Is that how the state of things are…?” His voice was quiet, his comment clearly meant for no one’s ears, but eventually he did pick up his cup of tea. “I don’t see how taking off trousers would help anyone, though.”

After taking a sip of tea, he let out a relaxed exhale. “I don’t believe Auberon did anything wrong. However, a direct approach may not be the best way to go with someone constantly defending themselves. It’s good to take on the problem head on, but separating the person from the issue could help,” He tilted his head as he looked up into the sky. “I still think attending some sermons would still do her well.”

“You’re right, of course. They will once she finds the faith she’s locked deep behind her fear.” Clarissa agreed as she prepared her own tea, thinking back on her conversations with Lienna. “For more practical purposes, treat her like a stray cat. Don’t react negatively when she does something shocking or strange, don’t loom over her and invade her space, don’t push or try strange tricks to try and engage her. Be honest and without deception or subterfuge. Be understanding and open even when she says or does something shocking or strange. And most importantly, offer her your trust even if you don’t have hers. Before anything else, she needs a friend.”

“And don’t doubt yourself, Auberon. The Goddess put Lienna in the holiest of places working alongside one of the most devout men I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. I can’t believe it is simply coincidence that your paths would cross here and now; perhaps it’s the Goddess calling you to rise to new heights, challenging you to overcome an obstacle you haven’t had to face before. It might feel daunting but you’ll always have us beside you!” Clarissa patted his arm encouragingly, eagerly optimistic.

Doubt, she says. Auberon really was out of it if people were under the assumption doubt of all things was his worry. The ‘hurry up and wait’ approach did seem prudent, but it did little to alleviate his current woes. Though apparently Lienna was as much a foreign creature to them as she was to him, so he supposed he shouldn’t have expected a solution handed to him so easily. As always, perseverance would do him good - it wasn’t like he could just give up on her and wipe his hands of the situation even if he wanted to.

“Your praise is humbling, and I agree wholeheartedly. I just wish there were an easier answer,” Auberon lamented as he reached for the saucer containing his cup at last. The aroma was familiar. Bergamot, probably. Needed milk. “Problems that cannot be solved through decisive action are a rarity for me. We Faerghians are… simple like that.” He supposed that in itself was an answer. The Goddess would not hand him a solution if the test itself lied in navigating the situation. All this time, he’d viewed Lienna’s attitude as his ‘enemy’, but was his own frustration and impatience not the true adversary? As in all matters, the nourishment of personal virtue precluded victory.

“Simplicity is often underestimated,” Ioannis added as he put his cup down. “Many things in life would be a lot easier if they were more simple. Alas, we cannot understand why our Goddess created things the way we were. Fortunately, She saw it fit to gift us knowledge so that we may overcome any trial.”

Nodding to himself, he continued, “I believe with time you will find the Lions acting in your favor, Auberon,” He ended up assuring him. “If you ever find yourself at a loss, I’m always happy to assist in any way I can!”

Clarissa was tempted to take the easy segue into discussing the Church's foundation in the Alliance but from his reaction earlier to the truth of the matter, she wasn't confident that he'd have much to offer on the subject right now. Clarissa took a short sip from her cup, humming pleasantly at the taste. "Now that you've offered our poor Lion advice for his woes, maybe I may pick your brain for a moment? Professor Michail is an earnest man when it comes to the sword, spear, or any other art of war and from what we saw at Luin, he has a keen eye for strategy but he seems rather out of place behind an instructor's desk. What made him pursue a life of educating rather than remaining with the main host of the Knights of Seiros?"

Ioannis brought the cup to his lips, though he paused at Clarissa’s question. “I wondered the same thing,” He said, lowering the cup. “He’s much too talented to be a professor.”

The words came out and surprised him. He cleared his throat, shaking his head. “What I mean to say is that Professor Michail was asked, it was not a deliberate choice,” He hastily added. “Lady Arianthe asked him to teach this year as things were shaky after Archbishop Asclepius’ passing. She did make it clear it wouldn’t be a permanent position, but as the focus was on preparing my ascension, perhaps she believed it to be easier to have a Knight teach rather than go out of the way to find someone more suitable for the role.”

He allowed himself to drink for a moment. “I know she expected him to be on the same level as Euphemia, but I feel that comparison to be unfair. Euphemia has always had the intention to teach as she expressed that desire when she attended. Michail has only ever wanted to be a Knight of Seiros. It worked out, Michail was all too happy to be asked, but...I cannot feel as if there is some other motive behind Lady Arianthe’s appointment that I am not aware of.”

"It is strange on the surface. If this was the Roundtable, I'd assume the Lady knew of a threat and preemptively moved a skilled asset where it could best intercept it." Clarissa mused. "Although, it could just as easily be that she wanted him guaranteed to be at Garreg Mach if you had need of him rather than having to hunt him down while he's on a mission."

"You know, I find the difference between them amusing. Siblings so different and while I-sorry Auberon, I mean no disrespect- think having Professor Michail as a dedicated Professor would drive me mad, I find their interactions pleasantly amusing after a particularly rough day." Clarissa admitted with a chuckle. "It's lovely that they get along so well!"

“No arguments here,” Auberon chimed in while he stirred another sugar cube into his tea, “While I have no doubt he’d make a fine mentor to a squire in the field, he’s a bit of an unorthodox choice for a full time instructor.” Not that he minded; his previous tutors had a bit of a ‘sink-or-swim’ approach to their training as well. Michail could do nothing but slap them around the training grounds every day and the blond would still find it worthwhile, though he supposed it would be wise to remember he was here to learn the art of statecraft even more so than the art of combat.

“Still, there must’ve been some reason a knight was asked over, say, Professor Roland. With times being what they are, though, I can’t say I’m displeased.”

Ioannis drank again, letting out a sigh of happiness at the taste. He stayed quiet for a moment, clearing his throat as he thought to himself. “My initial thought is that Lady Arianthe wanted to mimic Ascelpius in that sense. After all, Sirius was a promising Knight before he was asked to become an administrator to the academy. As for Lysander...well, he has too much on his plate to be tasked with teaching multiple classes as well,” His eyes widened a touch, and he fell silent again.

“Goodness, I am...speaking much too comfortably,” He laughed nervously. “Is this what it’s like to converse among friends?”

“I’m glad we put you at ease enough to speak freely then but don’t worry, anything we hear is strictly between us. A conversation between friends doesn’t demand careful words and guarded secrets.” Clarissa reassured Ioannis, picking up a pastry and snacking on it happily. “I did notice Professor Roland was involved in a little bit of everything. Anytime anything happens, he seems to show up in a heartbeat. I’m glad he cares so much about us.”

“But what about you, Archbishop? You’ve been here your whole life right? Will you have the opportunity to visit the other Churches anytime soon? You must want to see the world a little for yourself.” Clarissa asked after she finished eating her pastry. Ioannis seemed a little uncomfortable and she certainly didn’t want that.

Auberon wasn’t certain how he felt about Ioannis describing them as friends. It was somewhere between honor and sacrilege, surely. Not that he had an objection to open friendliness in conversation despite his tendency toward formality, but friends with the Archbishop was certainly never a title the blond ever considered he’d obtain.

“Is that safe? Sorry to embitter the mood a bit, but there was just an attack on the Eastern Church. Until the situation is handled, it might not be wise to leave Garreg Mach.” Auberon paused after he spoke, a vague flash of perplexion written across his face for the briefest moment. Huh, maybe Ioannis had a point. That was pretty forward, even for him. Maybe it was the tea.

Ioannis looked down at his lap for a second, although he ended up shaking his head. “I fear my presence would do more harm than good were I to visit the Eastern Church,” He told the pair. “There are times where the best thing to do is to stay put. Both Adrestia and the Alliance have lambasted the attackers, unifying the countries. Were I to visit, the attention would turn to me instead of the ones who bravely defended the church.”

He paused once again, though he had a thoughtful expression. “After Ascelpius passed, I was visited by the Bishops of the other churches. Normally, I would have had to visit them as is custom for the ascending Archbishop, but the plague still lingered, and many worried for the worst. I do think that I would like to at least visit the other churches in the future, though,” He said, looking over at the garden. “I suppose I’ve always had the odd curiosity for seeing the world, but I’m happy here. I think it’s because I’ve gotten the opportunity to meet so many people–they come from all over to visit the Cathedral or attend the Officers Academy.”

He looked back at Clarissa, his eyes shining. “This place is magical, you know,” He said. “They found me as a baby here, but no guards had seen anyone drop me off. I suddenly appeared underneath the podium, sound asleep, and no one could figure out how I got there.”

He chuckled. “Of course, the more realistic explanation is that my birth mother left me in the care of the church, but I like to pretend otherwise,” He reached over for a pastry, a thought coming to mind. “Though the scriptures do say that Seiros herself did build this place by hand, and that much must be magical, especially with how well built everything is. You see, it is said the Four Saints made sure to coat the Cathedral in protections to ward off evil. That could be one explanation on why the place calms most, and…” The Archbishop launched into an explanation on the history of Garreg Mach, only pausing to eat or drink and delighted at the eager company.


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Eleventh Bell, 22nd Day of the Great tree Moon

The day of classes began without any event, much to the relief of the students and staff at Garreg Mach. Many were happy to put the terrible rumors of disappearances behind them and instead focused on themselves, the desire to return to normalcy exceeding most other emotions. At the very least, the mood was lifted among the majority. Lysander was all too happy to watch the students go about their day, even if his morning was filled with more paperwork than he would have liked. The letters from concerned parents had been addressed and replied in haste as per Ioannis' instruction. The clergy was informed, the guards were more aware, and Lysander himself approached the day with cautious optimism.

So of course when he was approached by a guard, he wasn't entirely surprised.

He frowned as he was approached, though it turned to actual surprise when Sirius intercepted the guard. He watched Sirius dismiss the guard and braced himself. "I don't suppose you're approaching me for a chat," He said.

"I'll have to make time for such a thing; I suppose you're beginning to resent my presence," Sirius seemed to agree with Lysander's initial assumption, unraveling the scroll to read the letter. "It would seem that the town of Magdred has reports of several groups traveling through Magdred Way only to never return."

If he recalled correctly, Magdred Way was a densely forested area whose fog made the trek through rather dangerous. "Near the Oghma Mountains, correct?" He asked, thinking to himself. "I don't suppose any scouts have gone to look?"

"Our scouts have found nothing, which is precisely the problem," Sirius replied. "No people, no corpses...it is as if they have vanished."

Just like the missing student. Lysander remained quiet for a moment. "We should send Michail and his squad over," He suggested.

"I thought the same. However, the letter is accompanied by a plea for help from Magdred," Sirius added. "Because no one's gotten through, the town has found themselves low on supplies. They also petition us for aid at that point."

"I see," He said nothing more, looking back to where the guard had walked off. "...I don't suppose others have read this message, have they?"

"We would be the first and only to know. Why?"

Lysander turned back to face Sirius fully. "Because I believe it is time we confronted this problem head on. Michail has prepared them for battle and I plan to address their abilities today," He stated.

Sirius stared at him for a moment, albeit surprised. "I wasn't expecting this sort of recklessness from you," He admitted, dropping his voice considerably. "I know you and the Archbishop have confidence in this group, but this could backfire in more ways than one."

"I know. But despite the desire to shield them...this is also a prime opportunity to see what they're capable of," He sighed. "Of course, if you do truly protest, I will go by your suggestion instead."

A silence fell between the two men as they fell deaf to the world around them. Despite Lysander putting the decision in Sirius' hands, the two would only move forward if they both agreed. Sirius seemed to run every scenario through his head, weighing the pros and cons. Should anything happen, the Monastery would never again open its doors. And yet, he agreed that further shielding the students could undo the hard work Michail had put in to get them ready to fight.

"I will call a conference once the dismissal bell rings," Sirius finally spoke, breaking the silence. "The message asked for haste, but the supplies will take around a week to get ready."

A week wasn't nearly enough time, but Lysander nodded. "Very well, then. We move forward together."

Fourteenth Bell, 22nd Day of the Great tree Moon

The students were instructed to all gather at the Black Eagles' classroom once their regular classes were done. As there was no physical activity involved, it may have left them weary of yet another additional class for them. Once they all took their seats, however, Lysander would make sure that there would be no more mystery behind it. The doors closed behind them with Michail and Euphemia both standing at the entrance. The former was a little more pensive than usual, though attentive. Lysander stood next to the professor's desk on one side, with Tomai seated and grading papers.

"I thank you all for your time and patience," Lysander began, his voice warm and kind as always. "The Archbishop would have liked to be here for this, but alas, his duties find him elsewhere. I have also asked that Professor Simeon not attend this class, as her ability will likely hinder the progress made here. Should there be any injuries, however, one of the nurses is on standby in the Golden Deer Classroom."

He realized that may have caused some alarm, so he hastily continued. "As you are all aware, the use of the Units this year has separated the students into different groups. This one is no exception. However, this group was brought together specifically on the reason that each one of you possesses a Crest," He stated, walking over to the chalkboard. Carefully flipping it over, it revealed a design of the twenty crests--all but one were there. "It is time we spoke of them. Professor Malathice, if you would?"

Tomai finished writing something down before finally looking over at Lysander. "Oh. This, right," He said, revealing that he was likely not listening to anything Lysander had said, much to the other man's dismay.

However, once he stood up and took a hold of a pointer stick, Tomai decided to get right to it. "Blaiddyd. Charon. Daphnel. Dominic. Fraldarius. Gautier. Gloucester. Goneril. Lamine. Riegan. Maurice. Aubin. Chevalier. Noa. Timotheos. Cethleann. Cichol. Indech. Macuil. Seiros. And..." He pointed each one out as he said their name, albiet he walked over to the chalkboard and picked up a piece of chalk. His hand moved rapidly as he filled in the center with one large symbol.

"The Crest of Flames. With the exception of the last one, each Crest is a magical sigil passed down through lineages that our society has been built around. They're believed to be blessings bestowed by the Goddess, with the Crest of Flames itself being the symbol of the Goddess herself," He explained. "Aside from status, however, Crests also bestow special powers to those who hold them that vary from individual to individual. While history has told us that Crests have always bestowed minor abilities--such as increased strength or magic--it was not until approximately three hundred years ago that these powers manifested themselves."

Tomai spun the chalkboard back on the blank side, scribbling down three names. "1104, the year of Almyra's invasion of the Leicester Alliance. With the invasion came a sickness that doomed most that had it. Johanna Lyse Riegan single-handedly healed over a thousand people, including everyone in the capital. She not only saved most of the Riegan family but had a one hundred percent survival rate in everyone she healed. She bore the Major Crest of Riegan, its symbol flashing repeatedly as she used her abilities."

He tapped the second name on the list. "1217, the year of the Sreng invasion on Faerghus. King Aaron Blaiddyd lost his arm on the frontlines due to a surprise attack. And yet he persevered, his fighting abilities never faltering. His arm was examined and many nurses and doctors said he should have died on that battlefield, The amount of blood he lost should have doomed him, and yet not only did he prove victorious against death itself, but he also went on to father Henry Joseph Blaiddyd in Faerghus' Century of Peace. He bore the Minor Crest of Blaiddyd."

Tapping the last name, he turned back to the class. "1322, the year of the attempted Adrestian coup. Emperor Stefan Hresveig IV held off the three hundred traitors single-handedly while his queen and heir fled. He had the strength and speed of ten men, and together with his wyvern, lasted long enough for the insurgents to be put down. While he died, eye witness reports all stated that the Minor Crest of Seiros could be seen as he fought."

"These three are the earliest recordings of Crests giving their users abilities, both Minor and Major. Scholars have attempted to tie circumstances to these abilities awakening, but in 1399, Archbishop Apollo regularly displayed an unusually powerful ability to heal from a young age during a time of peace. There is no connection to stress or duress being the key to unlocking these abilities despite the earlier circumstances all occurring during times of war," He stated as he drew a line separating the names from the rest of the board. "While the origin of exactly when it began is unclear, these days Crests can reliably give their users abilities. With some practice, you can learn to control them."

After a few more scribbles, Tomai tapped the first one again. "As of present findings, there are three different 'types' that have been studied," He said. "The first is autonomous, or passive abilities. These occur regardless of the user's intent and have to be willed to stop. Even then, it is easier said than done. My own Minor Crest of Lamine is autonomous; I can detect the number of living creatures around me in a specific radius at all times. With some testing, I can expand that range, and further use it to track specific individuals."

Tapping the second, he continued, "The second is independent, or active abilities. As the name suggests, they must be activated in order to be used. They're opposite of the autonomous type, of course, but are no less impressive in their abilities. Professor Michail's Minor Crest is one, is it not?" He addressed the blond in the back of the class.

Michail straightened up a touch at being addressed, throwing on a grin. "Aww, you remembered!" He said, pretending to be touched. "He is right, though. I've got a Crest of Charon that lets me regenerate my wounds if I concentrate on it. It's great for stopping the bleeding, though I much prefer to get taken care of by a beautiful nurse--oompf!" His point was punctuated by Euphemia promptly whacking him upside the head.

"Thank you for that," Tomai replied dryly, tapping the third line. "The last type is ungoverned. This is rare even among the already-rare Crest users, but they have popped up once in a while. The Crest ability activates on its own without regard for the user. The few that have been recorded vary: sudden bursts of magic, dreams that tell the future, and one case where the user would go invisible."

"I'll take any questions anyone may have before I continue," He said.


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Everyone possessed a Crest? That was news to him. Auberon supposed it explained the commoners' attendance, at least. His gaze veered blankly across the other Lions beside him. Perhaps Clarissa had a point in that he needed to get to know them better.

"You should've said something," The blond whispered innocuously in Derec's direction, careful not to sound accusatory - or worse, actively disrupt the lecture. It was just getting good, anyway. Three hundred men. Even with a wyvern, that seemed an impossible feat. He wasn't one to give the Adrestians credit for anything, but that sounded like a scene straight out of the War of Heroes, and the emperor had to have accomplished it without a relic. Auberon was certain, of course, the greatest among the Galateas could burn a swath through scores of men from the back of a pegasus with Lúin in hand, but with nothing but a blade and that sad excuse Kayden calls a winning smile? Doubtful.

As Professor Malathice continued his classification of the Goddess' blessings, Auberon found his attention drifting back toward himself. His Crest was probably active. Even if it just kind of... happened sometimes. Then again, the nuances of it didn't really matter as long as Daphnel's blood did what it needed to for him. If this entire class was to be scholarly ramblings about theoretics and categorization, he didn't imagine he'd gain much from it. Aside from the bizarre realization that everyone around him was apparently a Crestbearer, anyway.

Professor Michail's prowess made quite a bit of sense once a Crest was brought into the equation, though it was a bit surprising nevertheless. Auberon knew, in theory, that plenty of his classmates were doubtlessly Crestbearing nobles, but he hadn't considered how their Goddess-given gifts had actually manifested. Usually it was everyone else around him asking him about his ability, rather than the other way around.

Kayden could probably do something spectacular that Auberon hadn't even considered with the strength of his lineage. Kellen could, even. It was a sobering prospect that all of his classmates were just as exalted in the grace of the Goddess as he was. Every step the Rose Unit made was under the highest auspices, no wonder they'd happened upon Luin village in its time of crisis. Rather than harrowed the the implications, Auberon was filled with an immense curiosity. A giddy little grin found its way onto his face for a brief moment before the Galatea heir smoothed himself back into practiced neutrality. No one questioned the way he carved through that bandit; he could've missed the supernatural talents of his classmates just as easily. Now he needed to know. At least in his own House - that was an important battlefield consideration, though he'd be lying if he claimed his motives were anything beyond the desire to witness the Goddess' blessings among the chosen elite with his own eyes.

Seriously, how did Professor Malathice manage to turn the splendor of holy blood and the work of the Goddess into something stuffy and boring? Mages. It truly was a pity that the Archbishop couldn't attend.





Across the room, one Rudolf von Bergliez was far less inspired. His eyes flicked back to the drawing of the Crest of Noa again and again as it loomed over him. Taunting him. It was rare that he saw the Crest actually depicted; only his immediate family and cousins on the Nuvelle side even knew he had it, and neither of them cared to adorn their heraldry with a Crest they held no public claim to. It kind of pissed him off, actually - it should just stay out of everyone's sight like he had to.

Professor Malathice's lecture finally morphed from senseless blabber to coherent words in the diminutive boy's ears the moment he heard the word 'stop'. Rudolf could stop this? Just will himself into being treated like a human being and not a ghost? Easier said than done still meant it could be done. Rudolf's head shot up, crimson eyes now widened and focused raptly on their teacher. Their Crestologist teacher. His lips parted slightly, a question already forming on his lips only to be halted by timidity and Michail's interlude. Tomai would know. He had to know. Whatever asinine meditative exercise Rudolf had to do, he could do. It was just like magic, but with an actual purpose. Was it truly so wrong to put his willpower to use selfishly instead of slaving away over a spellbook to master the tools of petty warfare he wanted no part in?

Sudden dread sent his stomach plummeting when the professor arrived on the last type of Crest ability. Invisible. Without regard for the user. Invisible. No mention of the word 'stop'. Invisible. Invisible. Invisible. It was the only thing he could hear over the pounding of his heart in his ears. It was a small comfort that even his labored breaths of panic likely weren't loud enough to call attention to himself. Or maybe Veronica would stare at him funny. Who cares. She'd forget he existed in an hour anyway.

A shaky hand rose before the even-paler-than-usual Rudolf even realized he'd moved. "What bloodlines did these ungovernable- err, ungoverned Crests appear in? Like the inv-visiblilty one." He didn't wait to be called on before he stammered out his question; he had enough practice with tutors to know no one would notice him if he didn't talk. "Just curious."

He already knew the answer. There would be no clear lines of inheritance that conveniently excluded Rudolf's entire family tree. These were surely freak occurrances with no rhyme or reason to them save the Goddess' whims - or ire - and bestowed only upon the exceedingly blessed and the exceedingly cursed. And, surely, Rudolf von Bergliez was both - an undeserving liar who guiltily reapt the rewards of virtue. Maybe he should finally take his brother's advice and tie a bell around his neck like a fucking cat.



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While Clarissa wouldn’t find much issue with sitting for another indeterminate amount of time, she did grumble at the summons. She’d already planned out the rest of her day, carefully drawing out time for chores, a walk around the greenhouse, and some studying in the library before the lanterns darkened for the evening. Nowhere in her schedule was there room for an unexpected lecture but it wasn’t like she would turn it down, even if she could. It simply sat poorly with her. Clarissa did sit further back than the first row however. Getting out sooner might make it so that she could reclaim some tattered remnants of her former schedule.

Although all thoughts of schedules and duties trickled out as concern replaced them, a brow raised in Professor Roland’s direction at his strange introduction. A quick head count confirmed that all the Professors were in attendance so what was so important that the Archbishop wanted to personally involve himself in the situation in addition to everyone else? Especially if they thought it necessary to have a nurse on standby? What in the Saint’s names was going on?!

A strange buzzing filled her ears after Professor Roland revealed that each member of the Rose Unit was a Crestbearer, specifically selected for the Unit because of that one simple fact. She could feel the tension in her muscles, her posture painfully stiff, but she didn’t recognize it as her own. It felt distant and muted, much like Professor Malachite’s voice as he droned on and one beyond the initial revelation. Nothing he said registered as she focused on the drawing of the Crest of the Beast. The damn thing taunted her, staring right at her even as she’d escaped to the highest and holiest point of the land. She could already hear her mother’s condescending voice whispering in the back of her mind. She had been careful not to mention her Crest, avoided the subject the best she could, and yet the people she trusted were sitting here, ready to throw all her hard work back in her face with not a care in the world!

If looks could kill, Professor Roland would have been dead on the spot. Fear and hurt boiled into frustration and fury in record time, palpable in the way it sloughed off her shaking shoulders. She jumped to her feet and swept away towards the exit, ignoring the Kalonics as she attempted to storm her way out of the classroom.

“Clarissa, the lesson isn’t over,” Euphemia told her, frowning.

“Then let it continue without me.” Clarissa snapped.

Euphemia was shocked by Clarissa’s sudden response. She looked back at Tomai fielding questions for a moment before placing her hand on the doorknob. “Give us a moment,” She told her brother, opening the door to let Clarissa out. She wasn’t about to let her escape, however—as soon as the door closed behind them, the woman promptly stopped Clarissa from running.

“I’m surprised at you, I thought you would enjoy this,” Euphemia said. “Whatever could be the problem?”

Clarissa glanced around for any sort of opening past her Professor but Euphemia would outpace her in a heartbeat. She could feel how her teeth ground together as she considered the options. “How much do you know about each of our Crests?” Clarissa ground out.

Euphemia scratched her cheek. “We were told this was the only unit to be comprised of solely Crestbearers, but beyond that we aren’t told much,” She admitted.

Clarissa gauged her reaction carefully, settling a little at the response. “My entire life has been defined by my Crest. From the moment I drew breath, from the moment my eyes opened, from the moment I could even understand what a Crest was, my mother was far too eager to list in full all the long, awful ways our Crest has brought our family and our loved ones to ruin.” Clarissa began, just shy of shouting as she paced. “The Church was a prison in the beginning, the only way for me to atone to the Goddess for our bloodline’s long and extensive history of sin branded into our family with this damning Crest. It took me years to escape that, blood, sweat, and tears to kick my way through the shame and the- the- the bullshit that came along with all this. I came here with the express intent of delving deeper into my faith and connecting with people without the looming dread of them discovering my Crest before I wished.”

“But now thanks to this,” Clarissa stopped, gesturing at the Black Eagles classroom as her volume continued to climb, “Now, I can’t keep that to myself. This administration so neatly stripped me of my autonomy over this decision without so much as the courtesy of a warning that I’m not ready for the consequences. I wasn’t ready for people to know and now I don’t have a choice! Clarissa hissed through gritted teeth. “Is that a problem enough?”

Euphemia’s face softened as Clarissa explained the source of distress, letting out a quiet sigh once she finished. “I had no idea…I’m so sorry that you’ve been put in such a position,” She sincerely apologized. “This class is meant to help, not harm, and it’s meant to be something that can bring people together.”

After a small pause, she looked back to the door. “For now, don’t you think it would be best to give Professor Malathice a chance? He’s a Crestologist, so maybe having some understanding could be of some comfort.”

Clarissa’s shoulders slumped at the suggestion, the apology enough to put out the worst of her anger. “I have been told at every step that this Crest would prove too much for me to free us of. If I’m told the same thing here, I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to handle it. Not here, not after I’ve come this far.” Clarissa admitted quietly.

The blonde seemed to sympathize with Clarissa greatly. “I understand. This class is merely an introduction–a lecture. How about you sit in and listen, and after this class I’ll talk to Professor Roland and see what I can do about excusing you?” She suggested. “I’m sure we can come up with some sort of compromise.”

Clarissa turned it over a few times before hesitantly nodding. “I suppose that’s a reasonable beginning.” Clarissa agreed. She took a breath and squared her shoulders, displeasure still apparent on her face. With a quiet word of appreciation, Clarissa stepped back into the classroom and returned to her spot, pressing a little closer to Jorah than before.
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While he might have once dreaded the prospect of being forced to attend additional classes, ever since the assembly in the church, Kellen Fraldarius had found himself scared to walk alone. Once safely ensconced in his room, it was possible to breathe, but the thirty seconds spent walking between his classroom and his shelter was torturous. So, while happy was not a word that could be used to describe the frazzled boy these days, he was content to dart between the Blue Lions classroom and the Black Eagles at the conclusion of the days’ classes. Even a mention of potential injuries, while still troubling, didn’t lock itself into Kellen’s mind, though that may have been less due to his emotional state and more due to the words that followed.

Crests. Goddess cursed, no good, terrifying crests. And professor Roland, for some reason, knew that he possessed one. On top of that, it appeared everyone in this room possessed one. Kellen’s ears thundered as he looked down at the table, not quite ready to look at anyone else in the room. Had his father told them? Or someone else? “Saints above.” The boy whispered, an accidental bit of piety slipping through in this moment of panic.

His eyes darted around the room. They halted for a moment on Imogen. She, like him, had not made mention of a crest. He wondered how she would react to this revelation. Knowing her, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was able to shrug it off entirely. Not far from her was Clarissa, who had an expression somewhat mirrored Kellen’s. But hers was… different. Kellen was embarrassed to have been caught in a lie, or at the least an omission of truth. He was scared, too. But Clarissa was… mad. He wasn’t shocked when she shot up to her feet and left the room, and Kellen might have joined her if he wasn’t so afraid to have any eyes cross over him in this moment.

He looked back over to his classmates. His gaze passed quickly over Lienna, not wanting to see whatever expression she was wearing after hearing this news. Indeed, he wasn’t excited to see Auberon’s reaction either, but as he took in the blonde he realized that he was staring at another of their classmates - Derec. Derec hadn’t revealed his possession of a crest either. Shame gave way to curiosity, if only for half a moment. What was Derec’s crest, and why was he hiding it? His eyes stayed on the boy for a few seconds, before he looked back to the board to stare at the list.

In an attempt to calm the many harried thoughts running through his head, Kellen paid close attention to what Professor Malathice was saying. The breakdown of different types of crests abilities gave him a degree of hope. While he seemed to have no control of his ability, it seemed as though this was something that he may be able to learn. Maybe.

When the Professor stopped speaking for questions, Kellen leaned towards the other Lions. “Sorry. I-. Well, it doesn’t matter.” The words were little more than breath, and he leaned back quickly. He didn’t want to interrupt the lesson or provoke any kind of response from them. But he couldn’t bear to sit there without offering any sign of remorse.
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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Obscene Symphony
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Lienna was exhausted out of reflex when the order came down to gather in the Black Eagles’ classroom at the end of the day. It wasn’t like she had anything else planned – much like many of her classmates, she’d been spending the bulk of her time since the announcement yesterday tucked safely away in her room – but it was hard to appreciate the protection of a few more bodies when it came at the end of a tiring day wading through dusty old tomes and strategy lectures.

Ugh. The least they could have done was give them some kind of training exercise; at least then she could have channeled her focus into magic instead of flitting back and back and back again to the news. As if she didn’t see enough shapes in the shadows already. Now she had to keep her head on a swivel once again. Wouldn’t be so much of a big deal back home, but after convincing herself those days were over, taking up the old torch was more exhausting than it would have been to never lay it down in the first place.

She filed in with the other Lions, taking her seat among them, although her gaze ended up somewhere off in space. Professor Tomai did catch her eye for a moment, and she was reminded how close she’d come to asking him to write a letter to Francis in her stead and get her out of here. Considering he’d yet to make good on his promise of an update on the Hanneman machine’s progress, she figured she probably made the right choice sitting tight. Tomai didn’t seem cruel, but he didn’t seem like the type to let his “ever faithful guinea pig” scuttle away over rumours either.

Lysander (she’d already forgotten his last name) opened the meeting just as dully as every other that day, but Lienna didn’t miss that veiled confession about Professor Simeon. Why on earth would he think a lecture – a lecture he was conducting – would result in injuries? And why couldn’t they use a proper healer if so?

Lienna’s hand went to a lump under her sash, where her grandmother’s needle box was tucked safely away. She didn’t know what the skinny runt was playing at, but she wasn’t planning on being poked, prodded or anything of the sort. Not that a little box of bone needles and thread would do her much good, but if it came down to it, she did have a much more powerful weapon at her fingertips; there’d be some collateral damage, but in a space this small she was pretty confident she could skewer Lysander with ice before he got the chance to try anything funny.

The thought relaxed her enough to let her hand fall, and she turned her attention back to the strange little professor in time for him to reveal that the students in the Rose unit had all been chosen for their Crests. Hm. Lienna wasn’t as surprised as the others; honestly, with a school crawling with highborns, she’d expected most students would have them. Any peasant like her who got in must have; she figured the only ones without would have been distant noble children never set to inherit anything anyway, coming to Garreg Mach to learn to command armies or whatever nobles had their children do. Come to think of it, that was the box she’d put Kellen into; she was a little surprised about him.

What didn’t surprise her at all, though, was Derec and his terrified thousand-yard stare. After all that bravado about trusting people and letting them have your back, he was in the same boat as she was. Some noble somewhere in his family line wormed a crest into some peasant woman, and now here he was, a diamond in the rough taking the opportunity for all it was worth. She’d almost respect him for it if he wasn’t so saints-damned sanctimonious about it. Where was he from, anyway? With that hair she’d swear he was a Gautier loose end just like her.

The rest of the lecture would have captured her attention if it wasn’t all stuff she’d heard before. But now that it was in front of her again, she thought back to a problem she’d discussed with Tomai in private: what about Crests that don’t grant special powers? Tomai was convinced that every Crestbearer had some kind of beneficial power conferred on them by their Crest, but that sometimes it was just unknown or difficult to discern. Even so, Lienna had trouble believing she had any special power. Such a thing would have come in pretty handy as a kid, so wouldn’t whatever it was have “activated” then? Maybe she had one of those bullshit “ungoverned” powers that only came out when it felt like it, and none of her prior troubles apparently made the cut. She supposed she’d find out if her dreams started predicting the future instead of replaying the past.

She raised her hand anyway, but this time, her question was directed at both professors. “So if this is about Crests, then what's with Lysander’s comment about getting injured? Did you round us up to research us or something?” The look on her face said it all; she wasn’t a fan of the idea, and Lysander had another asshole coming if he thought he was going to get one hair out of her without a fight.

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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by POOHEAD189
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Kayden sat settled and comfortable in his usual seat, arms crossed and attentive. Once the other students had filed into their guildroom, he couldn't help but wonder why they were being joined, and what the reason was for their classroom being the place they would congregate to. Whatever it was, it was likely to be aligned with his professor's interests than the Black Eagles as a whole, which meant magic. Kayden was no good at it, or at least he had never really given it much practice, but only a fool didn't pay attention when it came to learning about the art.

Once the session (or what seemed to be a session) was underway, it looked more like a history lesson. A lesson he had already been taught, or at least, in some respects. He had to admit a few of these anecdotes, he had never heard of. He had always thought Johanna's healing of the capital was due to her staff and progressive ideas, not her own power. He didn't quite know what to think of that, or of King Aaron Blaiddyd and his missing arm. He didn't remember that in his lessons at all.

Kayden had been privvy to his Ancestor's legend. Emperor Stefan Hresveig IV was a rolemodel for the young prince, growing up. As he had gotten older and a bit more learned, he had found that in his library, there were very little primary sources at the time. A few secondary accounts, yes, but some of the scholars he trusted didn't give full credit to the account. But if the professors at Garreg Mach believed it, maybe the histories were true? He almost felt like a kid again, getting hit with a wave of nostalgia as he remembered how proud he had been to have been related to such a hero.

“I can't believe...” He muttered, having to drag his mind back to the present and grasp the concept that they were making Crests the topic of the lesson. Kayden had known about his crest for a number of years, but he wasn't very talented or skilled at using it, or not using it which would take equal skill. He knew he could sway people with words, and there were times when he could feel a flow in the conversation and he rode off that, but he had never been properly tutored in the use of crests. Honestly, he sometimes felt guilty if the crest worked without him wishing it to. It was almost dishonest.

Kayden decided he didn't have any question, at least for the moment. If they began to put training underway, he would gladly be inquisitive, but as for now, he decided to wait and see what he could gleam from the other students. He glanced at his teammates, and thought to himself that he truly hoped they weren't going to travel anytime soon. The 'injury' comment made him think they might go for a training expedition for a few days. He was still on cloud nine for having Kalliope agree to spar with him this coming weekend, and he wouldn't miss that even if it meant he didn't master his crest.

Bad priorities, but he wasn't perfect.
Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Eleven
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Additional classes would normally have excited her, but it didn't seem to involve any training this time. With night shifts at the cafeteria and (secret) later night investigations keeping her up, Imogen could hardly keep her eyes open during her afternoon classes. She must have drifted to sleep at some point during the last class, unless there really was a miniature horse prancing about the professor's podium.

Imogen grabbed her seat beside the rest of the Deer, and despondently laid her cheek on the desk, fully prepared for just another long-winded lecture. She was about to ask Iz to wake her up in case she happened to fall asleep, but it seemed there would be no need. The mention of injuries and Crests had her bolting upright, her foggy sleepiness replaced with growing excitement. She remembered what Chi had told her about them, how amazing the professors' different abilities were: talking to animals and super strength and detecting people from anywhere in the Monastery!

To think they'd actually have a whole class dedicated to it. And that she was right about everyone having Crests! No wonder everyone was so cool. With rapt attention, she watched as Professor Mal pointed at the scribbles on the board, calling out funny-sounding words that she realized belatedly were family names when she heard hers. Imogen couldn't help flinching slightly at the mention of it. Goneril. Years of practice have made it easier to shoo the unpleasant memories of her mom that came with it, but she still didn't like how it made her feel.

Anyway. Crest of Flames, now that sounded super cool.

Imogen looked around the room with a giant smile and shining eyes, fully expecting to see everyone mirror her excitement. Because how can they not be excited when everyone in the room had some sort of amazing ability? She locked eyes with Kel for a moment and her head tilted in confusion. He looked embarrassed? Ah, maybe he didn't like bragging about it because he's too humble. Kel really needed to own his awesomeness. But turning to her fellow deer, she started to realize Kel's reaction wasn't the odd one out after all.

"Clary?" Imogen pursed her lips when she received no response, but chalked it up to Clary being too focused on the rest of the lecture. The history of Crests was a fascinating subject after all. When Clary suddenly got up and stormed out—in what she liked to think of as "pulling a Lin"—she looked to Jory to see if they needed to do something. It wasn't like her to skip out like that! Professor Euphie had it handled, though, so Imogen remained seated and instead decided to make Clary proud and forced herself to focus on the lecture as well.

Turning back to face Professor Mal, Imogen tried not to let her thoughts drift into imagining the different abilities of her classmates. She's pretty sure she'll be finding that out today.

As she listened, the names and dates completely escaped her grasp, but their abilities struck a chord with her. She felt inspired. A healer, a fighter that defied death, a man with strength and speed increased tenfold. Imogen wondered if her own ability would ever make her as legendary as these people. Could she use Dogberry to save people other than herself? She didn't mind starting smaller—like, maybe she can start telling Kel when there's something dangerous to worry about so he doesn't have to worry all the time. Or, or, maybe they can use her like a portable alarm?

Imogen raised her hand after Lin and that other guy, what's-his-name. Crap, why does she always forget about him? She made a note to give him a really memorable nickname later. "I think mine is autonomous 'cause I never have to think about it. How can I get better at it, if Dogberry does all the work?"
Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Hero
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The mood of the classroom had shifted, for better or for worse. To his credit, Lysander did warn him ahead of time of it, but Tomai thought it would be jitters. Derec looked just about ready to pass out. Clarissa, the straight-laced student, outright walked out. Crests being a touchy subject was more widespread than he expected. Still, Clarissa returned, Derec was upright, and there were questions asked that required answers. He decided to go in order.

Rudolf's question was easy enough to answer, thankfully. "Ungoverned has been universally been observed to be those who possess the Crest of Seiros outside of the Adrestian royal family," He answered. "There hasn't been any outside of that jurisdiction; any abilities that seem ungoverned are usually particularly stubborn or difficult to control autonomous abilities."

Lysander watched the classroom, albeit Lienna's question seemed to have made him a little uneasy. Once Tomai finished speaking, he felt he couldn't let any assumptions like that pass. "While the unit is a passion project of sorts, it is a social experiment," He would admit that much.

Looking over at Lienna as well, Tomai lightly tapped chalkboard. "Both autonomous and independent have a 'prompt' of sorts, but without knowing what it is, anyone's ability can go out of control and cause injuries," He explained. "Should someone's Crest give them enhanced strength, they may unintentionally break something or injure themselves. As we will be moving into more practical use, accidents are bound to happen."

Turning to Imogen, he needed a second to process what she said. After coming to some basic understanding, he continued, "We'll be going over the details next class, but as I mentioned to Rudolf, it's about finding your Crests' prompt. Once you recognize it, it's akin to exercising a muscle; the more you practice, the better you get at it. Granted, the difficulty varies from person to person, but I have the utmost confidence some of you will excel."

He let silence drop for a second as he flipped the board over once more, drawing makeshift borders around some of the Crests. A few, such as Charon and Daphnel, were in more than one group. "There have been many attempts in the recent century to give Crest abilities some sort of rhyme or reason, but the powers widely vary. The most common agreed-on theory is that the power depends on the individual, not on the Crest itself," He stated. "Charon and Daphnel are proof enough of this, as both appear across both the Leicester Alliance and Faerghus."

"With that in mind, Crest abilities are commonly sorted into categories," He explained, tapping the Blaiddyd Crest. "As I mentioned, King Aaron's ability was considered to be combative. My own ability is considered to be enviornmental, though I believe this name is currently under review in favor of 'sensory'. Those that affect the things people say or feel are considered social. Then there are abilities like Michail's that are in the category of survival, though any that are self-sustaining fall in that category."

He put the chalk down and crossed his arms. "As I mentioned before, Crest abilities are activated through inner prompts. What that prompt is depends on the person; some are stress-related, some can be easily tapped into like flicking a switch, and others can only be lessened," He frowned at the room. "For some of you, this will be easy. For some, you might never truly be able to turn it on or shut it off. It takes time, diligence, and inner reflection to master your Crest ability...and more often than not, some people are simply more talented than others."

He stopped speaking to let his words hang for a moment. "I reckon that'll be it for the introductory course. Though I'll also take any lingering questions."

Veronica let out a small sigh of relief; Goddess above, she was about to fall asleep. Still, she supposed she really only had one question, and now was as good a time as ever to ask. She raised her hand and waited until Tomai nodded at her. "What can we expect of this class going forward?" She asked. "You mentioned that it'll be up to us, but we can assume we'll get some sort of guidance, no?"

"You won't be in this class every day," He replied. "We'll spend the first few classes trying to gauge the categories you're all in, and split you up from there into smaller groups. While I have the most experience, both Professor Kalonics have Crest experience and will do their best to assist you where they can."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another hand raised. Derec somehow managed to move, even if he looked like he would lose his lunch any second now. Tomai held back a sigh and motioned for him to speak. "Can we opt out of these classes?" He all but blurted out the question.

Michail gave Lysander a weary 'I-told-you-so' look from across the room. Lysander had to ignore him for the moment. "I don't recommend it. If your ability gets out of control during a battle, you could very well lose your life," He pointed out. "Why don't we speak after class?"

Tomai closed his eyes for a moment, though once he opened them, he gestured to the door. "Go ahead and speak now, the class is basically over," He pointed out.

Derec sprang up from his seat, immediately heading to the doors. Michail opened his side without hesitating, though after a moment, Euphemia followed suit. Lysander looked uneasy, but he quietly followed Derec out of the classroom.


Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Scribe of Thoth
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Great Goddess above, what was wrong with the women in this class? Lienna's little episode the other day was understandable, if not justified, but now Clarissa of all people was the one storming out of the room. Over Crests. One would think a pious noble would take an interest in her Goddess-given birthright. Not that his Lions were much better; Derec looked like he'd just witnessed a murder and Kellen was apologizing for... something. At least Lienna seemed composed.

The rest of the lecture did little to hold Auberon's interest. The categorization seemed like a bad attempt at shoving a square peg in a round hole, given how varied Crest abilities were. Granted, the blond found the earlier three classifications to be a pointless bit of scholarship too, but at least they were decisive and held some amount of practicality. Plus, the description of what the rest of the class would entail sounded outright presumptuous. His Crest came when he needed it, there was no need to tempt the ire of the Goddess by borrowing more power than was necessary. Was such folly not the downfall of the Ten Elites themselves? Not to mention the dire straits the unit would have to be put under for such training. How would they even train a Crest like King Aaron's? Lop off a limb and hope for the best? Auberon certainly didn't intend to unleash his Crest on anyone here, training or not.

And of course, it was Derec's turn to freak out after the lecture had ended. Auberon wasn't a fan of this class either, but to opt out entirely seemed a bit far. Either he had some sort of survival-type Crest and arrived at the same conclusion Auberon had about inflicting needless injury for the sake of training, or Lienna wasn't the only peasant with a misguided preacher back home. Probably the latter, since Derec hadn't mentioned his status before and looked sick well before the mention of training. Even Lienna at least made her bloodline known.

The count-to-be briefly considered following along as Derec made his departure, if only to figure out what the issue was, but the memory of Clarissa's stray cat analogy stopped him in his tracks. Right, it wouldn't do him any good to get Derec incensed; he'd have plenty of time to ask later. What they really needed a class on was how the nobility accomplished anything if cutting to the root of the issue was apparently 'overbearing'.

"Of all the things to be up in arms about," Auberon huffed quietly before looking to his remaining Lions. "Honestly, he was the last person in the unit I expected to have a Crest. I don't know if I should commend his humility or be confused by his restraint. Wouldn't noble blood be the first thing you mention in a room full of nobility?" Lienna clearly thought so. Not to mention, Derec was in attendance at Garreg Mach of all places. Even if he bought into the 'status doesn't matter here' spiel the administrators liked to give, that wouldn't explain the outright discomfort.

Honestly, Auberon was a bit annoyed that his one normal housemate turned out to be another basket case more than anything else.


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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Obscene Symphony
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Lienna gave Lysander a flat look. She wasn’t sure what a “social experiment” was, but she didn’t like the sound of it. Lucky for the skinny nerd, Professor Tomai came in with a slightly more acceptable answer. So he was worried they’d accidentally hurt each other, was it? Lienna would have thought that’d be all the more reason to keep the nurse lady around, but if this was the wisdom of the monastery then she supposed her protests would fall on deaf ears. They were probably in more danger during combat training anyway, considering Kellen’s aim.

Meanwhile, Derec still looked like he saw a ghost, and asked whether he could opt out of the new class. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what he was so afraid of; so he was gold digging, so what? He might personally be an idiot, but not even Lienna could fault him for that. But she was curious what exactly he used his Crest for. For all she knew, he was marrying into a noble family too, or being adopted by one. She and Derec might end up cousins by marriage or something, knowing her luck. Or maybe he was trying to become a Knight of Seiros; that'd suit his sanctimonious attitude. More than anything, she was surprised nobody figured it out sooner, herself included. After all, how else does a peasant get into Garreg Mach?

With that, the class was dismissed, and Derec was quick to flee into Professor Michail’s arms. There’d probably be some irony to it if she cared to think about it, but she didn’t. Lienna was still surprised about Clarissa’s reaction; she hadn’t known the girl long - or really even spoken to her much, come to think of it - but she always seemed so calm and assured, it was odd to see her so shaken. Lienna would have thought she’d keep her composure in the face of ruin if only to avoid being called crass.

She smirked. Maybe Crests were just a sore topic for redheads.

Not that Lienna herself was one to talk, what with her own little peculiarity still left to be figured out, but surprisingly, it didn’t trouble her too much. Professor Tomai’s broken machine was more his problem than hers so long as she avoided any more Crest checks. If they were just practicing, it shouldn’t be an issue. Probably.

She glanced up when Auberon started talking, unsurprised at his comments. Once more, his nobility was showing. She shrugged boredly. “Not necessarily. Back home people thought Crests were more a curse than a blessing; if you had one, you kept it to yourself.” She crossed her arms. “Maybe he’s from somewhere similar. Judging by that hair I wouldn’t be surprised if he was another Gautier brat.”

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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Obscene Symphony
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Jorah was about as excited for another unit meeting as one could expect, and right off the bat things seemed about as optimistic as their meeting in the Cathedral just days prior. Ooooo, maybe someone from the Rose Unit itself went missing this time? From a cursory glance, no one he personally knew was missing, so if that was the case it couldn’t have been anyone too important. Surely then all this grief could wait until the morning?

Okay, maybe that was a little rough.

Ugh, but who cared?? Jorah just wanted to go back to his dorm and finish the sleep he started just before sunrise, not sit through another hour of professors prattling on dourly about this or that tragic occurrence in or around the esteemed walls of Garreg Mach. He didn’t need another afternoon of swimming through the worries of every other student at the Officers’ Academy. Couldn’t he just sit this one out? Come on, even Clarissa seemed a little put off by the as-yet-unannounced meeting, but unfortunately her presence despite the annoyance was as much a guarantee as anything that like it or not, Jorah probably wasn’t escaping anytime soon. Dammit.

Lysander didn’t help the general unease of the students with his weird, vaguely threatening introduction, but honestly, the vague threat of injury would probably have been preferable to what the two of them launched into next. The moment that chalkboard flipped over, Jorah felt his blood run cold - but not from his own doing. He didn’t need to look over to know the source. He knew that vicarious feeling well, and he knew exactly what spurred it on. The feeling hurt his heart, and not just vicariously; It’d been years since he’d felt it so potently, but it had never quite gone away, either. So, while the rest of the Deer might have been shocked to see Clarissa bolt out of the room at the mention of Crests, Jorah was just sad and unfazed.

He turned in his seat to follow, but thought better of it when Clarissa slipped out the door; the last thing she’d want, of all people, would be to cause a scene. The very act of leaving was already way beyond the pale for her, and Jorah knew it wouldn’t do any good to go running after her and draw even more attention. Instead, he did his best to act cool - easy enough for him, fortunately - so as not to alarm the other Deer. That was what House Leaders did, right? Set an example? Clarissa seemed to think so.

Still, it was lucky he was a good actor, because he was seething just as harshly as Clarissa was. Whose bloody idea was it to announce to the entire unit that every single member had a Crest? Goddess above, Lysander sounded like his father, acting like a Crest was the be-all end-all of divine endowments, something nobody could ever in their right mind come to resent or regret. Surely nobody would ever hide their Crest. Oh no, no no. Crest-bearing babies were blessed by the Goddess, bound for greatness - whether they liked it or not.

Jorah fought not to roll his eyes. Was it any wonder he and his father could never see eye-to-eye on this? What a ridiculous notion. Admittedly his own Crest had never caused him the same anguish as Clarissa’s had, but he could still see why the topic might be a sore one even without a Crest as infamous as the Crest of the Beast. But if the Monastery knew of Clarissa’s Crest, wouldn’t they know which one it was as well? Jorah would have thought they’d have a bit of tact given that Crest’s particular history, but apparently the highest seat of religious power in all of Fódlan was too high on their own incense to consider anything so droll as common courtesy.

At least Professor Tomai didn’t seem to be breathing the fumes as deeply as Lysander was. Clarissa was at the forefront of his mind, but Jorah still caught some pieces about the nature of Crests and how they could be controlled. His own Crest surely fell into the category of “passive,” given he could hardly conceive of what life might be like if he could “turn off” the ability to feel the emotions of those around him, and didn’t even realize it was abnormal until he was well into his childhood. Though, was it so clear? He couldn’t get rid of the feelings, that was certain; but the other side of his Crest, the one that allowed him to coax people to his side of an argument, seemed at least somewhat voluntary. Or, if it wasn’t, then it was weak enough that for most people it must not matter. He would concede that it would be interesting to learn more about his Crest and how it might be controlled, but that didn’t make him any less pissed over how clumsily the topic was handled.

To Jorah’s surprise, Clarissa returned. He really wouldn’t have blamed her for taking off back to her dorm or the cathedral, but he was happy that she found the courage to come back inside. She wasn’t fully better, but the worst of her turmoil seemed to have burned off; as fine a first step as any. She pressed a little closer when she sat back down, and Jorah returned the gesture with a friendly nudge of the shoulder, happy to let Clarissa lean on him if she needed to. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too much of a setback. As sad as it made him to think about it, the two of them might not have another several years left together to pull Clarissa through her pain all over again.

For once, the other students didn’t draw out the lecture with stupid questions, and soon enough they were all released from this farce of a class. Jorah gave Clarissa another nudge, offering a sympathetic smile. Well, he’d gotten her through once; by now, he was basically an expert.

“Needed the privy that bad, huh?” he teased, voice low enough that only she would hear, “I told you not to eat the fish today.”

Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Achronum
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It took every ounce of willpower not to pretend none of this was being discussed like an eight year old, hands firmly over her ears and shouting loud enough to drown out what she didn’t like. She wasn’t certain if she felt like crying or laughing at the idea of practicing with her Crest. Maybe a little bit of both and a heavy dose of nausea to accompany it. How did someone even begin practicing the sin of her forefathers and failures of bloodline? It wasn’t like the Crest’s ability was unknown―everyone knew the nature of the Crest of the Beast. It’d change her into something violent and uncontrollable and like Maurice, she’d find herself unable to change back when the Goddess saw what she’d become. Absolutely not. She’d been handling her Crest’s power just fine, kept locked tight inside the stronghold of her faith, duty, and devotion and she had no interest in exploring it’s potential or learning to control it in any other fashion.

At least she wasn’t the only one with the same sentiment. Derec for whatever reason seemed as upset as she was, if not more so, and she wholeheartedly agreed with his desire to leave this awful speciticale behind. She made a mental note to catch up with him once his discussion with Professor Roland concluded; if not to offer a bit of solace, then at least to learn the answer to his question because she’d rather not attend these Goddess forsaken classes if she didn’t absolutely have to. And if Derec wasn’t offered an easy escape then it wasn’t like she was afraid to speak her mind. In fact, she had a great many words she’d like to say to Professor Lysander Roland before the day was out and each was sharper than the last. Euphemia had already admitted to not knowing the full extent of their histories and that meant that her brother was likely briefed to the same degree but she wasn’t naive enough to think that the one whose job was to oversee these events had such a narrow view of the truth.

The jostling from her said drew her out of her irritable musings and while she couldn’t bring herself to return the quick flash of a smile from her friend, she did smack him gently in reproach. “It always comes back to Crests in the end, doesn’t it?” Clarissa sighed bitterly. “Professor Roland will be getting an earful about this when he completes his conversation with Derec. Besides the personal relationship each of us have with our Crests, catching us unaware with such a blunt proposal as experimenting with us and our abilities is the pinnacle of disrespect. This Unit is composed of individuals whose experiences in state and military outstrip their apparent age and that alone should have earned us a modicum of respect, not to mention the expected reciprocity from an institution so revered. Instead, they march us in, inform us of how a sensitive issue will be handled, and are surprised at the negative response! Could you imagine the Church using this tactic on the Roundtable? Walk into a meeting and dictate how they want to handle the expansion of the Church into Alliance territory? They’d be laughed out on the spot!”

Her irritation grew until it was fury and she shoved herself to her feet once more. “Actually, I think I’ll go have that conversation now. They’re probably bullying that poor boy into taking this class he clearly doesn’t want to and frankly after this debacle, I don’t think they deserve the dignity of a private conversation.” Clarissa decided, storming towards the exit once more.
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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by POOHEAD189
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Kayden was more than a bit taken aback by the reactions of his classmates when it came to crests. He knew the things could potentially have adverse effects or dangerous abilities out of someone's control, but this seemed to be more common than he had anticipated. He couldn't even begin to guess what Clarissa's was, but judging by the theatrics it could hypnotize the lot of them. Still, it saddened him to see her distraught, even if they hadn't spoken more than three words to one another. It was the same with Derec, someone he still couldn't quite gauge but he seemed cool.

It irritated Kayden. His own group seemed either apathetic or happy to learn about their potential powers, with the possibly exception of Rudolph, but he was just barely a step above Kellen in the 'self esteem' category. However, the rest of the students seemed less sure of themselves and a few had even exploded, which also left their teammates bewildered. Auberon and Lienna were at their old banter again, and he smiled despite himself. They reminded him of the members he knew at court, but that only added to his dilemma. Should he be happy about their disunity as a rival, or distraught as a fellow student? His teachings on statesmenship and war were filled with cold, pragmatic self interest and mercilessness, but as his father said, Kayden had the 'soft heart' of his beloved mother, evidently.

He realized he was distracting himself and pushed the introspection away, doing his best to listen to Tomai and writing down what notes he could. His crest was likely social in nature, unless there was some deeper ability that he hadn't yet figured out, which was a disturbing thought. All the more reason to take the class, at least. The classes were not everyday either? Good, he could catch up on homework and practice his swordplay in a totally vain attempt to impress Kalliope before she kicked his ass the coming weekend.

Kayden turned to his fellow Eagles with a glance. “Do any of you have any concerns with the class, or are we good?” He asked. The best option for them was likely a 'wait and see' approach. Do the curriculum and try and find an edge in the meantime. Despite his notions of honor, the Prince already had a few seedlings of machiavellian ideas in the back of his pretty head, pieces on a chessboard moving in multiple directions for different outcomes. He simply had to wait and watch, and then make one of his moves.
Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Hero
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Veronica barely paid any attention, more interested in the ends of her hair. The physical training they endured was starting to affect her in ways she wasn't appreciating, and she swore some of her ends were starting to split. A haircut was definitely due, but considering the shoddy grooming services the school offered, she wasn't sure she could trust them with what she considered to be her best feature. Besides, all the talks of Crests and the like were things she heard and found boring. She was already born with the divine right, did she really need to be lectured on it any further?

At Kayden's words, she openly rolled her eyes. "Imagine being concerned about the very thing that has deemed you worthy in the eyes of the Goddess," She stated, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I can't relate."

Meanwhile, Derec was hot on Lysander's heels as they gave themselves some distance, though his patience wore thin. Once he thought they were far enough, he ended up ripping into the Professor. "In what world could I possibly continue staying in the shadows when I'm enrolled in a class specializing in showing off Crests?" He threw all formality to the wind, albeit there was visible panic as opposed to anger by the time he finished speaking.

Lysander looked at Derec, frowning. "On the contrary, I believed if you could control it now, it was better than the symbol appearing during combat without intention," He replied, keeping his voice down.

"Couldn't I have been put in a private class? Or...or at least I could have not been completely blindsided by this!"

"What did you think this introductory class was?"

Derec took a few seconds to collect himself before he continued. "Professor, I was promised safety while I attended. Don't you think this compromises that somewhat?"

Lysander stared at Derec for a moment. "No," He answered honestly. "The truth of the matter is that the truth will come out, one way or the other. All we can do is prepare you the best we can, and I believe these classes will do so."


Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Scribe of Thoth
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Rudolf sucked in his first steady breath of the class period as Professor Malathice answered his question. He didn't have the Crest of Seiros, which meant his Crest couldn't fall into the horrible uncontrollable awful life-ruining category. But the Crest of Noa had never been studied extensively, right? What if he was another exception? No, then the professor would've said it occurred in people with the Crest of Macuil too. There was hope!

All he had to do was find this nebulous prompt that spurred his Crest into action. Which was easier said than done, admittedly. Still, it meant this would be the one course at Garreg Mach that didn't feel like a complete and utter waste of time. Plus, it was the Black Eagles' professor and head magic instructor teaching it, Rudolf would have innumerable chances to pick Tomai's brain for tips and guidance. It wasn't like he had anything else to accomplish during his tenure, if he mastered this skill alone, he'd be well on his way to-

"For some, you might never truly be able to turn it on or shut it off."

Oh.

Oh.

He was a fool. A naive idealist that tried to find succor in the bitter venom of hope, only to subject himself to a far more gruesome demise than had he just supped on fatalism like he deserved. There was no salvation for him in this church, as his uppity classmates seemed to have surmised for themselves. He had no idea what they were up in arms about, hollow as their words were around him, but he was inclined to agree regardless. Only Rudolf had no energy for impassioned pleas and grand spectacles of storming out of the room, just quiet despair. He probably should've been paying attention; if anyone was getting an exemption from the class, joining them was his top priority. No need to sit and watch everyone else focus their Goddess-given abilities while Rudolf himself just stumbled onto increasingly creative ways to make himself more invisible. That was surely want everyone wanted, ways to make their ability stronger; cursed rejects like him who wanted to weaken themselves weren't worth wasting class time on. Maybe next he could make his voice disappear too. And then they'd patronize him about how cool his Crest is, how masterfully he could employ it on the field of battle, but Saints forbid he wanted to be greeted in the hallway every once in a while.

His crimson gaze drifted downward toward his fidgeting hands, picking at the cuffs of his uniform jacket in an idle attempt to keep himself from doing something stupid like sob. Not that it would've mattered if no one could even see him. The advent of voices closer to him didn't rouse him from his stupor, even though it surely meant Veronica and Kayden were discussing something and he was possibly included. When he raised his head to find Kayden seemingly waiting for a response, Rudolf gave a noncommittal hum that could've been construed any number of ways.

"Did he ever answer whether we could opt out or not?" He inquired wearily. Not that the answer mattered, his attendance wouldn't be noted whether he was present or not. He could even call it Crest training, if pressed.


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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Achronum
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The moment Clarissa pushed out of the classroom once more, she locked eyes on Lysander and Derec across the courtyard. “Professor Roland, you disingenuous boor! Rarely have I been so tempted to bear the colorful epithets of the sailors of Edmund against a man of your stature and yet your duplicity tempts me so.” Clarissa boomed, uncaring of those around them as the world seemed to disappear, leaving only her and the target of her ire, as she stalked towards Lysander. “In the name of common decency however, I will afford you freedom from such language. I expect you’ll learn from the example.”

Clarissa’s words dropped to a furious snarl as she approached, jabbing her finger directly into Lysandar’s chest. “How dare you abuse trust unconditionally given! How dare you wield your authority to violate our autonomy so blatantly in front of our peers! How dare you turn our Professors into goalers and hold a dagger to our throat in one of the most cowardly ambushes I have seen in my life!” She puntucated her points with sharp jabs to his chest. “Tell me, Professor, did you consider the consequences of your actions when you violated our autonomy? Did you consider our goals when you violated our autonomy? Did you consider the rifts that would form when you violated our autonomy?”

“Don’t bother answering. I don’t care to hear the well rehearsed lies of the delusionally self righteous.” Clarissa scoffed, dismissing whatever pathetic excuse the man may muster. “I am not naive enough to believe you unaware of our specific Crests if you know enough to stack your hand full of them and as such I am hard pressed to find any benign or ingenious intention that would lead you to believe your decision to handle sensitive matters with such callous methods ethically acceptable. I have goals and aspirations that, shy of the Goddess herself descending from heavens and issuing a divine edict against me, I am fully determined to complete and I do not need her servants sabotaging me on holy grounds!”

“And furthermore, I have not had the luxury of ignoring my Crest. Since I was barely to your knee, I was made full aware of the implications and the burden of mine. Every step I’ve taken, every breath I’ve drawn, and every decision I’ve made since has been in restitution for the sins of my forefathers and in service to the expectations placed on me because of it and you have the nerve to lock me in a room, expose me to the future’s most influential individuals, and then expect me to lean on a power tainted by failure and treachery? I cannot begin to fathom the depths of depravity through which you trudged to reach this inane conclusion.” She laughed mirthlessly.

“I foolishly believed myself safe here, above the petty politics of the world and the black mark on my family name. I suppose I should thank you for enlightening me.” Clarissa spat out and turned away from Professor Roland, her piece said and the edge of her temper dulled for a moment, to address Derec. “Join me for an afternoon ride with the Deer. A little distance and discretion will give you some opportunity to collect your thoughts and prepare for the tribulations ahead.”
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