Scribe of Thoth

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

Once again, nothing went as planned. For some reason Auberon had still neglected to expect the unexpected from Garreg Mach, foolishly assuming that he'd gotten his strangeness for the day out of the way early when he was named House Leader. The peasant girl he'd previously written off was apparently sporting a Crest and already well on her way to cementing her position in the nobility, that scatterbrained Deer girl had somehow managed to drag Auberon's opinion of Alliance conduct even lower when the bar was already resting firmly on the floor, the last Leicester girl was even more of a nervous wreck than Kellen - which he wasn't sure whether to take as a sign that he'd been too hard on his housemate or if he should be simply pitying Isolde even moreso, and some Adrestian was challenging a Knight of Seiros to a duel. Sure, Auberon was flirting with the idea in the back of his mind too now that it was brought up, but he wasn't harboring any delusions that he'd so handedly win on the first day. And he certainly wouldn't be voicing such a thing in front of an audience. The blond was so busy reeling from Valerian's boast that he hardly even caught Her Future Highness' introduction. He could ask Kayden what she was like later if she came up. Probably.

The fact that he'd be present for a sermon by the Archbishop himself was so mundane in comparison to the rest of the day's events that Auberon barely registered the gravity of it until Professor Lysander had finished speaking. He knew, logically, that the midday sermons likely happened every day and that he'd be missing nothing that he couldn't hear tomorrow if he didn't attend. He also knew, logically, that Valerian would likely be beaten rather quickly and the entire spectacle would be anticlimactic. But illogically, Auberon wanted to see them fight. He wanted to see what made the Aegir boy so confident in his abilities. He wanted to see how those abilities fell short against Michail. He wanted to learn how to succeed by learning how to fail. He wanted to pick both combatants apart in preparation to crush them into fuel for his own ego in the future.

But he wasn't going to do that. Tempting the Goddess' ire was not something one did when faced with such an unnavigable and unexpected situation as the one Auberon had faced since he arrived at the monastery, and he was sorely in need of direction at the moment. The Archbishop's words may very well be the answer he needed. Pressing on through force of will alone was not an action he was a stranger to, but choosing a path that would work out eventually was not always more prudent than a path of moderation and contemplation.

Auberon let out a deep exhale as he stood from his seat. Lienna had run off again to talk to that standoffish Eagles professor - either she really didn't like socialization or she was an exceedingly busy woman. A shame, since he'd wanted to ask her about her position, but dinner would have plenty of time for that. With little fanfare and a quick glance at the departing Michail, he made his way to the cathedral.

"Hey, Kellen," Auberon started without looking back. He'd seen the boy hovering behind him as he walked, might as well start a conversation. But how to broach this? 'Hey, are you always crippled with anxiety or just in front of crowds?' 'What the fuck was that back there?' 'Do you need help with that? I know I sound like I'm mocking you with the offer.' Whatever, he could start with something inoffensive and ask later. "Have you ev-" He paused as he glanced backward, Kellen nowhere to be found. Huh. Must've had to use the latrine or something. Another conversation for dinner, then. With luck, nothing outlandishly strange would detract from that.

His thoughts cleared the moment he passed the threshold of the cathedral, replaced only with an intensified version of the reverent wonder he felt in each new area of the monastery he visited. There was no question - the Goddess' eyes were upon this place. Not the vigilant observation that She blesses the rest of Fodlan with, but a piercing, direct gaze; one that looked into the inhabitants' souls and saw all their natures laid bare. The sermon itself shouldn't have been anything remarkable - it was a passage Auberon had read many times - but His Holiness repeated it with such vigor that he couldn't help but view the words in a new light. In the short period after Ioannis had finished and before Auberon stood from the pew, all the jumbled pieces in his mind clicked together seemlessly. He had a role - House Leader of the Blue Lions. He had a task, even if it hadn't been entirely revealed to him yet. The only thing he lacked was patience for the fallibilities of his classmates, and that was easily acquired in the face of the Goddess' serene mercy.

When he rose, Auberon Galatea was the picture of saintly virtue - at least until his mortal sensibilities overpowered the divine perfection he sought to imitate. The Archbishop speaking to Clarissa immediately caught his eye; if he deigned to converse with her than surely any student could approach him for guidance. That was a rare honor, and Auberon didn't want to waste it. He approached cautiously to make sure he wasn't interrupting anything personal or private that Clarissa might have been sharing, then with more gusto as he caught only a token introduction.

"Your Holiness," Auberon interjected, bowing his head deeply. His instincts told him to fully genuflect, but he hadn't seen anyone else doing so and he didn't want to look like a fool. The fact that he was showing this level of respect to a twelve year old was completely lost on him. "Lady von Edmund," He added with a less impressive nod in her direction, "Pardon me if I'm intruding. It's truly an honor to meet you both in person and I couldn't resist killing two birds with one stone, as it were."

---

@Achronum@Hero

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

In hindsight, Auberon had met the day's events with far too little suspicion. He'd barely batted an eye when a change in tradition was announced, or when their class and their class alone was summoned, and now he learns the archbishop had apparently selected them all by hand for some nebulous higher purpose yet to come. At least the Goddess' intentions for testing him so were made clear before it was too late. This wasn't some diplomatic exercise by the Church, it was divine providence.

Other pieces were falling into place as well, to Auberon's surprise. The Lions in the room had crowded around him at the front, even the girl that had fled their first class in seeming disinterest. Explained why he couldn't find the Orhneaht girl earlier; she'd excused herself before he had a chance. Whether they acted out of Faerghus solidarity or simple tribalism and fear of strangers, Auberon was grateful for the perceived support - a group that rallied around him instinctively would at least listen when it mattered - and it did much to assuage his earlier misgivings. A small blessing from the Most High in the face of the world-shaking challenges She had put before them, perhaps.

At least one of the others seemed to have caught on to the gravity of the situation as well - a Golden Deer, of all people. Clarissa von Edmund; he needed to remember that. With luck, she was the cherished advisor that Jorah had boasted about and not just the underappreciated island of sanity in a sea of Alliance eccentricity. The other Deer seemed every bit as misbehaved as Jorah, and Auberon debated whether politely declining their invitation of 'Leicester hospitality' was an acceptable option in the face of Professor Lysander's urgings to get along.

Kellen's introduction confused Auberon as much as the boy himself did. The blond still had no idea how to read him - he seemed shy, but he'd jumped up to introduce himself unprompted twice now. Squirrely and awkward, maybe, or sheltered, or even just slow to settle in to life at the monastery. If he tripped over his words to that extent after volunteering himself to speak with ample time to ready himself beforehand, Auberon had no trouble believing he didn't enjoy surprises. He'd clearly given no thought to what he was going to say before he stood, and the introduction was quite frankly embarrassing. Not in the way the conduct of Jorah or - Goddess forgive his insubordination - Professor Michail was embarrassing, but in the uncomfortable, sympathetic way one might feel watching a friend accidentally trip in front of a crowd and become a laughing stock.

Auberon hoped he wouldn't be overstepping his bounds if he suggested Kellen work on public speaking later.

He stood shortly after his housemate sunk back into his chair, posture impeccable as he turned around to address the room behind him. Making the same speech twice always made him feel uncreative and boring, but he supposed introductions were important enough to repeat. "For those of you I haven't met yet, I am Auberon Casimir Galatea, heir presumptive to the Countship, appointed House Leader of the Blue Lions, and bearer of the Crest of Daphnel. For Professor Kaira's sake, I'd like to note I also enjoy prayer, along with the feeling of a weapon in my hands. Sometimes both at once." That sounded a bit dark in hindsight, but were the Crestbearers not the weapons of the Goddess? A prayer on one's lips with every swing seemed fitting enough to him. "I'm pleased and humbled to be working alongside you all. As Lady von Edmund said, the Goddess has brought us here for a reason, and I can think of no better compatriots than those She deems worthy of undertaking a task in Her name."

He dipped his head in a minimalistic bow toward the class before he returned to his seat. His gaze flicked over to Kellen briefly, to whom he offered a lighthearted shrug. Hardly a reassuring gesture, but it was the best he could do without words. With how close they were to the professors, he certainly wasn't going to risk whispering while someone else presented. Someone around here had to act like a noble, at least.

---

Of Blood and Magic

---

Wow, Flower Boy sounded like he almost bought it for a second. It was partly true, Max would be a good therapist; there was just the issue of no one else agreeing with him. Apparently telling someone that they're whining like a teenage girl and need to get over themselves is 'unprofessional' and 'bad psychology', even if it was an entirely correct assessment. Still, an amused snort sprung up from the back of Max's throat at Salem's suggestion. Quite frankly, it wasn't bad. Not at the Noila Academy, that would entail far too much contact with the nobility, but lecturing at some mediocre school out in bumfuck nowhere while keeping everyone guessing with flying objects seemed an entertaining way to kill time and fly totally under the radar. Of course, that offered no answer to the Eris question and Max certainly wasn't going to teach acting.

"Not a bad idea, I'll be sure to give Ryner a call if Eric ever gets staked by a crazy fan and I'm looking for new employment," he responded with a shrug. Decent backup plan; the only thing worse than dealing with that clown for the rest of his life was getting transferred to an even worse part of the circus, but maybe applying for a teaching position came with an assignment to some distant vampire with too many mages to begin with.

New girl's experience seemed pretty par for the course. Saying the professors had idiosyncrasies and not derangements was putting it lightly. He was pretty sure half of them had students doing stupid crap as part of an elaborate joke. Max certainly wasn't going to sing like a caged canary no matter how unsafe it made the magic. Wasn't life magic supposed to be the opposite of dangerous anyway? What, was he going to be too healthy afterward? Surprisingly, that mental magic professor seemed halfway normal on the surface. The others might follow the same pattern before one noticed they were detestible puppets of a tyrannical regime - probably because they wanted payback for years of getting ignored at lunch - but that was between him, Ismene, and anyone else who heard his tantrum through the walls.

"I think half of them are hacks and all the ones that aren't are insane. I can only imagine the higher level courses are taught by My spell theory professor tried to impale me on some invisible death bolt at one point." He glanced to Salem briefly, "Yeah, don't ever ask Professor Hot Wheels for help outside of class, he's a fucking psychopath."

---

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

Auberon should've expected Derec not to recognize her; they'd only just arrived and few had yet found time to socialize. Unless some informal congress of the lower caste was miraculously set up in under a day, the commoners probably didn't know anyone from outside their quaint little villages anyway. Unfortunately, that meant he was probably out of luck if he wanted to meet this Orhneaht girl before class started. Sure, he could go ask around for her, but fumbling around the courtyard just to introduce himself was overbearing at best and desperate at worst. Hardly the impression he wanted to give.

"I'm sure we'll see her later," Auberon responded dismissively. The icy reception must've thrown him off, coupled with the surprise of House Leader being given to him to begin with. Either way, he was getting distracted; if he tended to his duties, the rest would fall into place as it always did. "I need to speak with Professor Kalonic anyway. Even with the... laxness he displayed earlier, I can't imagine it's a good look to keep him waiting."

The boy took his leave from the classroom without regard for whether Derec was in tow and focused immediately on the professors gathered in the center of the courtyard. Luckily, someone already broke up Michail's little spat with the other teacher. He was likely a Golden Deer, judging by the skin tone, but either way Auberon certainly didn't recognize him from the Lions, which meant the young Galatea probably wouldn't be intruding if he stole Michail's attention. At least as long as no one started beating him again. What a strange way for faculty to act.

The rest of the courtyard was about what he expected. Students mingling much like they'd done in the classroom earlier, others that were simply wandering about with their heads swiveling like a flag in a tempest as they tried to take in the grandeur of Garreg Mach. Were he not on a mission of his own at the moment, Auberon might've joined them. He still hadn't seen all of the monastery and he doubted even the year he'd be spending in attendance would be enough to dim its allure. If the church elders - or the archbishop even - gave regular sermons, he'd probably have to be physically dragged off the grounds when he graduated. Nearby, Kellen seemed to have caught up with that pale-haired girl that had fled the room earlier. Auberon had to admit he probably misjudged the Fraldarius when he wrote him off as just shy, catching that girl on the way out could very well have been his plan all along. If Auberon was quick, that could be two birds with one stone. Hopefully his duties didn't warrant too much of an explanation on Michail's part.

"Excuse me, Professor Kalonic?" Approaching the group, Auberon announced his presence and offered a nod to the other student before refocusing on his teacher, "You told me to report to you."

---

@Hero@Obscene Symphony

Of Blood and Magic

---

Max's brow raised in dry amusement as he stared at Lilie silently for a few moments. Since when was she so passive aggressive? Did he piss her off or something? She did backtrack there at the end, so maybe she just slipped, which worked for him just fine. Eris didn't like her vampire anyway; they didn't need to be friends. Hell, Max didn't even consider himself Aaron's friend and he was actually supposed to play nice with him.

"Wow," The mage responded plainly. It was as good of a response as any. He couldn't insult her; she technically did what he wanted, and he was hardly the person to start policing people on their tone. Unfortunately, new girl either couldn't read the room or read it perfectly and wanted to try her luck with the guy even Lilie didn't like. How utterly annoying. And predictable in the worst possible way.

What was he supposed to say to that? Go be a cog in some vampiric baron's industrial complex? He didn't want to do anything; he was lazy. The fact that the economy existed to benefit tyrannical monsters was just icing on the cake. Not that his current position was any less degrading, but at least he got to tell Eris to fuck off on the regular.

"I think I'd be a great therapist," Max answered humorlessly, though he was obviously struggling to hold in a snicker, "I dunno, probably some boring do-nothing job where you just look smart from a distance. Doesn't really matter though; no point theorizing about what could've or would've happened." Thinking about it would probably just make him mad anyway. He was a glorified pet in some actor's retinue, for fuck's sake.

---

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

Not the response from the room Auberon was hoping for, but it wasn't unexpected either. He could only hope the muffled jeers stewing in the back of the room were related to the content of his speech rather than his status; asserting himself as a competent leader was a task he could manage, but convincing slighted nobility that they should listen to a man of potentially lower status was a far more arduous process. Still, he'd manage, by grace of the Goddess if nothing else. The girl who outright fled the room was a bit rude but less of a concern; they had been dismissed, and the drive with which she seemed to move suggested there was some pressing reason for her departure. His speech couldn't have been that bad, right? One guy even clapped!

Auberon perked up as someone followed his lead and took the stage, though his face briefly furrowed in confusion when the boy revealed he was the Fraldarius that Auberon had seen on the board. The ill-fitting uniform suggested he was some commoner with a horrible tailor, but even they would've had access to someone competent, judging by the clothes of everyone else in the room. He supposed Kellen just preferred the bagginess for some reason. Unfortunately, Kellen didn't seem to want to mingle, which left Auberon with unanswered questions and only 'Orhneaht' and 'Ballard' to contend with, wherever they were. If they were both shy too, he'd probably end up having to fraternize with the other Houses far more frequently than would be proper for a House leader just to keep himself entertained. It seemed the Goddess would leave him with no shortage of challenges this year, if the first day was any indicator.

Simply leaving the room was tempting - Auberon could hopefully spare Michail from his fate long enough to get some information from him - and it wasn't like he needed to stick around and introduce himself personally to each person. If someone needed him, they could just follow. Or... catch him right before he could go anywhere, as the earlier clapper had done. Evidently he was Ballard. Auberon couldn't help but frown for a second at the revelation his most fervent supporter so far was some lowborn hick that likely would've clapped for anything. Nevertheless, they were classmates now and it wouldn't do to be aloof. Or ungrateful for the support, for that matter.

"Thank you for the support, I'd hate to have to butt heads with anyone over this position. Seems others disagree, though." Auberon flicked his eyes to a departing student that had been obviously whispering about him during his introduction. "Oh well, all things in time. Speaking of class units, have you seen Miss Orhneaht yet, by chance?"

He needed to make a good impression on those three, at least. Not that he necessarily ever intended to pull rank, but if the Lions he'd be interacting with most regularly were uncooperative, what did that say about his leadership skills? Personally, Auberon thought such ineptitude unacceptable in anyone bearing an important title, much less a Crest, and the people of County Galatea deserved more than a weak leader should the Goddess allow the honor to be bestowed upon him.

"I know absolutely nothing about the girl, I was just hoping to meet her before classes formally started. Faerghus solidarity and all that - I'd hate to confuse her for an Adrestian or something."

---

@Hero

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

Roaming the hallowed grounds of Garreg Mach was an experience that surpassed even the highest of Auberon's expectations; every corridor and room seemed alive with the Goddess' presence, and his heart beat ever faster in religious ecstasy as the day's events progressed and increasingly important members of the Church hierarchy were presented to him. To stand in the cathedral itself, in the presence of the Archbishop, no less, was to feel unworthy. It was if the gaze of the Goddess Herself was boring down upon on him there, and Auberon found it a challenge to even raise his head completely as Ioannis welcomed this year's class.

The classroom itself held less distraction for the boy. Without statues of the saints watching his every move, Auberon could almost pretend he was in any other mundane room in the world. Besides, he was in attendance for a reason and it wouldn't do to disrespect the monastery and Church itself by not committing his full attention to the curriculum he'd been graciously allowed to partake in. Michail seemed friendly and personable, and his status as a Knight of Seiros assuaged any doubt of his competency, even if he may not be responsible for their entire education at the academy.

Still, Auberon was stupefied for the first few moments after Michail had finished his announcement. Surely he'd misheard - the professor must've said Auberon of House Gautier. Or... Aubrey of House Galatea. Okay, he didn't think there was even an Aubrey in his family, but still. No, the board definitely had him listed there at the top. The Goddess truly was an inscrutable mistress; classes had yet to even begin and She had already blessed him with a once-in-a-lifetime duty to help shape the future leaders of Faerghus. Auberon quietly placed his hands together in prayer and reverently lowered his head.

"I am honored by this opportunity, my Lady. I will not fail You or this nation," he murmured almost imperceptibly under his breath. After paying the proper respects to the Most High, Auberon stood and made his way up to the front of the class, trying to catch everyone's attention before anyone left to spend their free time elsewhere. "Excuse me," Auberon addressed the room with neither imperiousness nor timidity, toeing the line between fellow student and uplifted authority as best he could, "Evidently I'm to be the House leader of the Blue Lions this year, so I felt I should probably introduce myself."

He waited until he'd captured at least some of the students' attention before continuing, "I am Auberon Casimir Galatea, heir presumptive to the Countship and bearer of the Crest of Daphnel. I'm a bit surprised at this appointment, in all honesty, but I hope that I can live up to your and Professor Kalonic's expectations of me nevertheless." Auberon brought his fist down on an open palm for emphasis, "If any of you ever need anything from me or have concerns you'd like to share, please don't hesitate to seek me out; it's our collective duty to help better each other and ensure, Goddess willing, that the Kingdom's future is in good hands. Thank you."

Of course, Auberon had no idea what the duties of House leader actually were, and judging by the glimpses he'd caught of Michail being confronted outside, he probably wouldn't have a good opportunity to ask until later in the day. He had the utmost faith in his ability to meet the challenges put before him - the Goddess would not have chosen him otherwise - but convincing the other Blue Lions of this was a different matter. He was the son of relatively unimportant nobility in possession of only a Minor Crest; the blond could tell just from a cursory look at the names on the board that nobles of higher status than him were in attendance, and he sincerely doubted that none of them possessed a Crest. It was possible someone would feel slighted by not being named House leader, though it wasn't as if Auberon had volunteered - their quarrel would be with Lysander. Assuming rational heads prevailed, anyway.

Rather than dwell on it, he turned his attention back to his name on the board, or more specifically, the other names grouped with his. The name Kellen Fraldarius was recognizable enough; he was certainly not the heiress to the Duchy - Auberon swore her name started with an R or something - but the family name alone told Auberon enough about the boy's status. Orhneaht was far more puzzling - it wasn't a family Auberon had ever heard of, though it wasn't like he memorized the name of every upstart merchant household that might have the wealth to send their child to Garreg Mach. Suffice to say, he didn't have high hopes for this Lienna's early performance given what he knew about commoner education.

---

Of Blood and Magic

---

Max narrowed his eyes at Aaron, half in disbelief and half in awe of the sheer absurdity of the situation. Someone just randomly teleported fucking alarm clocks into the middle of his living room on a regular basis? Still, Max was sure it had to be the truth; no one would make up a lie that fucking stupid. His comments on the pranks were as quintessentially Retriever as Max would've expected; vampire apologism was disgusting enough when the vampires were actually well-behaved, he couldn't imagine defending some leech who really was acting shitty just because they got hit with a squirt flower or some equally mundane prank. 'Property damage' was probably a gross exaggeration by some overdramatic leech that was trying to make his mage sound like a criminal for knocking a tea cup off a table. Even if it wasn't, arson is the backbone of any good social movement.

Max couldn't be too mad about the situation though; the clock debacle had been entertaining for the short few minutes it lasted and the thought of Eris having to keep a straight face while Aaron explained what happened would probably keep him going for a few more. At least until Mabel or whatever the fuck her name was tried to talk to him. She was already getting chummy with Salem, which meant there was a good chance she might turn on Max yet.

He paced back to his spot on the couch and waited for Aaron to vacate the room before glancing to Lilie, "Do you talk about me like you apparently talk about him?" He questioned, thumbing toward Salem nonchalantly. Gossip was probably his most persistent enemy on campus, if not most troublesome. It was bad enough that talk about Eris occasionally became talk about Eris and his aloof new mage, but if there was some pale moron skipping around and telling everybody that Max 'isn't so bad once you get to know him' and 'probably won't throw things at you if you talk to him', some of the bolder ones might actually try to approach him. Plus, they might think they can crack his painstakingly crafted facade of apathy without realizing it's not a persona and they're wasting both their and Max's time.

---

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Auberon Galatea | Minor Crest of Daphnel

_{"Get back here and fight me like a man. There's no glory in running down a routed foe."}

Name

Auberon Casimir Galatea

Age

18 _{Born the 15th of Blue Sea Moon.}

Country of Origin

Holy Kingdom of Faerghus

Social Standing

Noble of House Galatea

Crest

Minor Crest of Daphnel
_{Auberon's Crest sporadically imbues his swings with more momentum than would seemingly be possible by mundane means.}

Starting Class

Lord

Weapon of Choice

Axes

Strengths

Axe, Flying

Weaknesses

Bow, Reason

Personality

Hotheaded and often rash, Auberon is a force of ego incarnate, with the utmost confidence that his every success is ordained by the Goddess herself, and thus brings glory unto Her name with every act he undertakes. Should he ever fail at something, of course, it is merely because the Goddess chose to teach him an important lesson in order to make him a more perfect servant or subtly create an even better result in the future. This leads to a very reckless nature, though not totally untempered by wisdom; the Goddess helps those who help themselves, after all.

Despite this hubris, Auberon is not one to rise above his station. He believes the Goddess has placed him precisely where he should be, and his whole life has been spent in preparation for vassalage - whether to a count or a king. He gives due deference to his feudal superiors and members of the church, though commoners are usually beneath his notice. He's cordial to them out of a sense of noblesse oblige, but he believes it is their role to serve as much as it his the role of the aristocracy to justly rule. This does not extend to those rare commoners who are lucky enough to bear a Crest, whose holy blood Auberon takes as a sign of the Goddess' favor and thus he regards them as he would any other noble.

History

Born the second son of two knights from a cadet branch of House Galatea, Auberon seemed a strong candidate to follow in their footsteps in one of the knightly orders of Faerghus rather than inherit the estate. When his Crest became apparent, however, the main branch immediately took an interest in the boy, as the House had not produced a Crestbearing heir. While they were hesitant to fully commit to Auberon's adoption in hopes that Count Galatea may yet produce a child holding a more valuable Major Crest, lessons on statecraft and stewardship were stressed on Auberon alongside the courtly etiquette and chivalric conduct typical of a young noble's education in the event he should eventually be chosen as the Count's successor nevertheless.

He took to combat lessons as swimmingly as any Crestbearing son of Faerghus would, and the innate physical advantages of his Crest led him to develop an ego quite quickly. His mother schooled him on tactics she reserved from her time as a pegasus knight, and his father instructed him briefly in the lance before passing him off to a more dedicated combat instructor. Auberon's older brother rarely stood a chance in their sparing, despite being two years his elder, and his tutors were often caught off-guard by the boy's intensity in practice, if not truly threatened. Seeking to curb any foolhardy arrogance in their son, his parents began introducing him to members of the Church in hopes that faith and scripture would humble the boy. The opposite occurred. Inspired by tales of the Ten Elites and their holy blood, Auberon came to understand himself not as special by his own merits, but by the benevolence of the Goddess. Now convinced of his importance in the divine sphere as well as the mortal, the young squire threw himself into his training with renewed vigor, aiming to be worthy of his role as the Goddess' champion like Daphnel before him.

It was also around this time that the whispers among the court became too loud for Auberon to miss. Auberon was still the sole Crestbearer of his generation, and some among the Galatea nobility had already given up on the Count choosing a different heir. The young teen could often pick them out easily - they were a little bit more pleasant now, with manipulations behind every word of flattery and unrealized ambitions spun in every turn of phrase. Perhaps a courtier would promise to convince the Count to stop deliberating on Auberon's adoption for a mere favor in the future, perhaps another simply wanted to brown-nose with his future liege. Such intrigue didn't interest Auberon - the Goddess would place him where he was meant to be regardless; anxiety was a trait reserved for faithless men and cowardly sinners.

When they learned Auberon would be attending the Officers Academy with his enrollment costs to be covered by the Count himself, Auberon's proponents, and even some detractors, seemed assured that he would be chosen for rulership of County Galatea swiftly after. But even then, no official decision was made. This served as an endless source of frustration to those whose power plays were banking on such an event, though Auberon remained unaffected by noble politics as ever. If anything, he was more excited to witness Garreg Mach and the seat of the Church in person than he was to hold any titles or power.

Trivia

• Auberon is the current Count Galatea's first cousin twice-removed.
• Auberon stands at six feet tall.
• No meal can beat a pepper crusted steak. Auberon will accept a duel over this.
• While he has not been officially adopted by the main branch of House Galatea, many among the nobility already consider him heir apparent.

Rudolf von Bergliez | Crest of Noa

_{"It really wasn't that special. I just got lucky, that's all."}

Name

Rudolf von Bergliez

Age

17 _{Born the 7th of Ethereal Moon.}

Country of Origin

Adrestian Empire

Social Standing

Noble of House Bergliez

Crest

Major Crest of Noa
_{Rudolf's Crest imposes a subtle compulsion on observers to ignore him. He's not invisible, just easier to gloss over, especially for those that aren't specifically looking for him.}

Starting Class

Monk

Weapon of Choice

Dark Magic

Strengths

Reason, Faith

Weaknesses

Brawl, Heavy Armor

Starting Spells

Miasma Δ, Heal, Swarm Z

Personality

A scion of House Bergliez must be the pinnacle of battlefield achievement, unparalleled in bravery and skill; a warrior so powerful that no man, army, or monster may meet him in combat and prevail. Rudolf von Bergliez is none of these things. He's diminutive, easily discouraged, and wants nothing more than to suffer a mildly debilitating injury that renders him unable to ever fight again, but won't significantly hinder his day-to-day life. At least then he could abdicate his title in shame and wouldn't jeopardize the entire Empire with the aftermath of his failures. He'd be useless in any position in the Ministry of Military Affairs, let alone the battlefield; all of his alleged magical talent is an overrated farce that will surely be exposed any day now; and no, he doesn't know what 'impostor syndrome' means, so quit saying it.

Rudolf is generally incapable of internalizing praise or positive feedback. He believes any commentary on his ability comes from mindless platitude and supernatural mental influence, and that if people would only pay attention to him, they'd see he's an inept failure unworthy to bear his hereditary honors. Glaring self-esteem issues aside, he's typically polite and inoffensive, though he can be quite forward at times since his subtle hints often go unnoticed by others. He does genuinely enjoy attention, though he's wary of actively drawing it to himself as he thinks it would inevitably lead to his exposure as a fraud. Naturally, Rudolf's a bit of a cynic, though he's notably more optimistic about circumstances that don't involve his input in any way.

History

It was deemed a testament to the strength of House Bergliez's blood and the favor of the Goddess that three of the Count's five children bore Crests. Such hubris must surely have been at fault when the Count's firstborn son grew up sickly and unsuited to the warfare in which his House was accustomed. A rational man would have named another child heir to the County, but Count Bergliez was never a man who reconsidered his choices once they had been made. Rudolf, much like the other Bergliez children, was trained in the arts of combat alongside a typical young noble's education. Rudolf rarely excelled in such activities, and was met with little encouragement even when he did accomplish something. His siblings received genuine, targetted compliments, but his achievements were met with polite ambiguity, and only if he explicitly asked. Only feats with tangible, physical results were met with anything different, usually surprise. Clearly, none of the other praise was sincere; they hadn't noticed a thing, overshadowed as he was by his siblings' prowess. Rudolf came to believe that he wasn't receiving attention because there was nothing noteworthy about him; he was only commended out of pity and respect for his position as the next count. Once he had a better grasp on how his ability worked, Rudolf was all but assured of this. How could he be congratulated when he was the opposite of everything the House stood for? He was no peerless soldier, his silhouette didn't cut an imposing inspiration to lesser men against the horizon; he was weak and frail and would perish the moment he engaged the enemy. The Imperial Army demanded not just a competent leader, but a figurehead that rallied and inspired levied soldier and distinguished knight alike. No pitiful weakling whose very existence was an afterthought to those that gazed upon him would do. The Ministry of Military Affairs should be in the hands of someone strong like his brother, or cunning like his sister, someone that wouldn't fail their nation in a time of strife.

Still, Count Bergliez refused to budge. If Rudolf couldn't master a weapon, he'd just have to be given alternative methods of attack. Favors were called in and practitioners of the dark arts from some of the Empire's most elite magic corps were hired as tutors for the boy. If the Count could not raise a master warrior to lead the front lines, he would raise a sorcerer-general to rain destruction from behind them. The boy took to the education swimmingly, finding it far more agreeable to his physique than swordplay. Unfortunately, Rudolf didn't quite see it that way. Unused to his tutors' genuine evaluation of his progress and the ease at which magical instruction came to him, he assumed he'd fluked somehow and passed himself off as some sort of magical prodigy. His Crest concealed his shortcomings from his instructors' scrutiny for now, but one day, surely, he'd reach the end of his luck and be exposed as a third-rate caster with fourth-rate spells. Nevertheless, Rudolf persevered in his studies, if only to try and live up to the lie everyone believed in. The genuine attention he was receiving was something he'd sorely lacked for most of his childhood, even if it was misguided and built on deceit. Hopefully once the truth came out, his father would see what a horrible person he was and pass him over for inheritance.

Unfortunately, it never came to pass. The plague took Rudolf's father and two of his siblings, one of whom was another Crestbearer. Quite frankly, the boy couldn't help but think his family would've been better off if he'd been one of the victims instead. Worse, no one had the nerve to contradict a dead man's wishes and dispute Rudolf's claim to the title. Any protests on his part were met with deaf ears and false reassurances that he would live up to the expectations set before him. His mother took over as Countess regent due to Rudolf's age, but in the interim, he was to be sent to Garreg Mach in preparation to inherit County Bergliez. The boy accepted, both because he had been given no other options and because such a prestigious institution would doubtlessly expose him as a fool unworthy to be count, and his family would have to reconsider their choice in heir.

Trivia

• Rudolf is ambidextrous and knows how to wield a sword in his right or left hand, not that he's particularly skilled with either.
• Stands at 5'6", but generally appears shorter to most people due to his unimposing physique.
• His favorite food is magically-chilled orange slices, which his tutor would sometimes prepare as a treat.
• Rudolf's Crest only applies to visual observation; he's still quite capable of calling attention to himself with sound, though an oblivious onlooker may be at a momentary loss as to where the noise originated.
• Reading his body language can be difficult without focused scrutiny, as his Crest typically dissuades the eye from catching his subtle gestures.
• The Crest of Noa appears indistinguishable from the Crest of Macuil on a Hanneman machine or other means of Crest determination.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Auberon Galatea | Minor Crest of Daphnel

_{"Get back here and fight me like a man. There's no glory in running down a routed foe."}

Name

Auberon Casimir Galatea

Age

18 _{Born the 15th of Blue Sea Moon.}

Country of Origin

Holy Kingdom of Faerghus

Social Standing

Noble of House Galatea

Crest

Minor Crest of Daphnel
_{Auberon's Crest sporadically imbues his swings with more momentum than would seemingly be possible by mundane means.}

Starting Class

Fighter

Weapon of Choice

Axes

Strengths

Axe, Flying

Weaknesses

Bow, Reason

Personality

Hotheaded and often rash, Auberon is a force of ego incarnate, with the utmost confidence that his every success is ordained by the Goddess herself, and thus brings glory unto Her name with every act he undertakes. Should he ever fail at something, of course, it is merely because the Goddess chose to teach him an important lesson in order to make him a more perfect servant or subtly create an even better result in the future. This leads to a very reckless nature, though not totally untempered by wisdom; the Goddess helps those who help themselves, after all.

Despite this hubris, Auberon is not one to rise above his station. He believes the Goddess has placed him precisely where he should be, and his whole life has been spent in preparation for vassalage - whether to a count or a king. He gives due deference to his feudal superiors and members of the church, though commoners are usually beneath his notice. He's cordial to them out of a sense of noblesse oblige, but he believes it is their role to serve as much as it his the role of the aristocracy to justly rule. This does not extend to those rare commoners who are lucky enough to bear a Crest, whose holy blood Auberon takes as a sign of the Goddess' favor and thus he regards them as he would any other noble.

History

Born the second son of two knights from a cadet branch of House Galatea, Auberon seemed a strong candidate to follow in their footsteps in one of the knightly orders of Faerghus rather than inherit the estate. When his Crest became apparent, however, the main branch immediately took an interest in the boy, as the House had not produced a Crestbearing heir. While they were hesitant to fully commit to Auberon's adoption in hopes that Count Galatea may yet produce a child holding a more valuable Major Crest, lessons on statecraft and stewardship were stressed on Auberon alongside the courtly etiquette and chivalric conduct typical of a young noble's education in the event he should eventually be chosen as the Count's successor nevertheless.

He took to combat lessons as swimmingly as any Crestbearing son of Faerghus would, and the innate physical advantages of his Crest led him to develop an ego quite quickly. His mother schooled him on tactics she reserved from her time as a pegasus knight, and his father instructed him briefly in the lance before passing him off to a more dedicated combat instructor. Auberon's older brother rarely stood a chance in their sparing, despite being two years his elder; his tutors were often caught off-guard by the boy's intensity in practice, if not truly threatened. Seeking to curb any foolhardy arrogance in their son, his parents began introducing him to members of the Church in hopes that faith and scripture would humble the boy. The opposite occurred. Inspired by tales of the Ten Elites and their holy blood, Auberon came to understand himself not as special by his own merits, but by the benevolence of the Goddess. Now convinced of his importance in the divine sphere as well as the mortal, the young squire threw himself into his training with renewed vigor, aiming to be worthy of his role as the Goddess' champion like Daphnel before him.

It was also around this time that the whispers among the court became too loud for Auberon to miss. Auberon was still the sole Crestbearer of his generation, and some among the Galatea nobility had already given up on the Count choosing a different heir. The young teen could often pick them out easily - they were a little bit more pleasant now, with manipulations behind every word of flattery and unrealized ambitions spun in every turn of phrase. Perhaps a courtier would promise to convince the Count to stop deliberating on Auberon's adoption for a mere favor in the future, perhaps another simply wanted to brown-nose with his future liege. Such intrigue didn't interest Auberon - the Goddess would place him where he was meant to be regardless; anxiety was a trait reserved for faithless men and cowardly sinners.

When they learned Auberon would be attending the Officers Academy with his enrollment costs to be covered by the Count himself, Auberon's proponents, and even some detractors, seemed assured that he would be chosen for rulership of County Galatea swiftly after. But even then, no official decision was made. This served as an endless source of frustration to those whose power plays were banking on such an event, though Auberon remained unaffected by noble politics as ever. If anything, he was more excited to witness Garreg Mach and the seat of the Church in person than he was to hold any titles or power.

Trivia

• Auberon is the current Count Galatea's first cousin twice-removed.
• Auberon stands at six feet tall.
• No meal can beat a pepper crusted steak. Auberon will accept a duel over this.
• While he has not been officially adopted by the main branch of House Galatea, many among the nobility already consider him heir apparent.

Here's another wyvern rider with a Fate faceclaim because apparently me and Kestrel are sharing the same two brain cells rn