ThatCharacter

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

An arrow flew a short distance below a bandit on a Pegasus as Kellen Fraldarius let out another half-cocked shot. Despite trembling hands, he did what he could to draw and set another arrow as quickly thereafter as he could. The act of drawing, loosing, and readying another was not much of a tactical decision. One out of three arrows finding their mark was not much of a record he could take pride in. But as long as he was focused on firing his bow, a feat which still required a fair amount of focus from the inexperienced archer, he could forget about the battle raging around him.

It was hard to tell whether it was Clarissa’s bolstering words, the fact he had been able to keep himself away from the melee, but so long as Kellen remained focused on the sky and his weapon, he could maintain, if not a sense of calm, at least a dull numbness that made it easier to ignore the knots in his stomach and his throbbing temples.

As Kayden and the new Adrestian boy took to the melee, striking down their opponents, Kellen heard Clarissa call out on their missing classmate. His face set slightly as he began to draw back on the bowstring, hoping desperately to find a target lest his mind be allowed to wander, but none presented itself. The flash of light of Clarissa’s magic and the yelps of pain that accompanied it made him wince, and he heard, from somewhere in the fog, Lienna call out that she had spotted Rudolf. Where had Lienna even been? With a pang of guilt, he realized that in his careful stewardship of the sky, he had lost track of her.

As the fog faded, Kellen caught a glimpse of her. Her shoulder was bloodied, but the presumed perpetrator was hardly recognizable amidst a jagged row of icicles. Kellen shivered. He had seen Lienna’s magic in training, but not demonstrated on a real, breathing adversary.

“Are you okay?” He heard himself whisper. His eyes didn’t leave the scene until he heard Professor Malathice’s voice cut through, followed by the hairs on his neck raising as lightning began to collapse around them. As his head swivelled to look at his professor, he was alarmed to realize the professor was also looking at him, his staff raised.

"Tell Michail we need help and that we have to regroup," Kellen's mouth shot open as he turned to see if there was anyone else he could recommend for the mission, but in an instant, he was gone.

And then, Kellen was in hell. There was no other explanation for the flash of light that was followed by the vision of his House Leader being confronted by the same bandit that had nearly taken Kellen’s arm off in Luin village. He felt his bow slip from his hand, but a small bit of instinct helped him catch it by the string before it clattered to the ground. There had to be a rational explanation for the reappearance of the man they had all struck down, and he was sure once he communicated the rear guard’s precarious situation to Michail, he’d explain it.

As he turned around to seek his professor, Kellen realized that Michail too was occupied. A large wyvern was bearing down on his professor, with Derec and Isolde a short distance away fending off some armed bandits. Kellen’s head swivelled around trying to spot anyone who wasn’t currently fighting for their lives, and noticed the other Professor Kalonic, Euphemia, standing a short distance from him, her bow drawn as she surveyed the field. Jorah was some distance away, but appeared to be taunting the brigands who had previously been occupied by Derec and Isolde. Kellen re-adjusted the grip of his bow as he tried his best to shout over the din to those who could hear him.

“Er, umm-” Kellen was caught off by the loud clang of a blade clashing with another. “The uh, rear unit is requesting help. There are mages and pegasus riders!” It was all a bit too much like the situation unfolding before him, and Kellen realized after he said those words that there weren’t any spare hands who would be able to retreat to support the rear unit.

This revelation having cemented itself in his mind, Kellen re-adjusted the grip of his bow and drew an arrow. He looked at the melee his professor and classmates were engaged in, but remarked not a moment too soon that Jorah, a far more accomplished marksman, was taking care not to fire directly towards those enemies. This was a new consideration for Kellen, who until now had been practising on targets that were always far away from any ally. He frowned as he looked down at the sword still sheathed at his hip, but shook his head quickly. His limited effectiveness would be hampered even further were he to lose himself to his nerves, and the best way to do so would be to get up close and personal with one of the bloodthirsty brigands, he rationalized.

There was a clearer target, Kellen realized. But to sight it, he’d have to turn back in the direction of Auberon and the all-too-similar bandit who had occupied his nightmares for the past several weeks. A quick glance at his sword was enough for him to decide that he'd take the risk.

Jorah’s position on the field hadn’t made sense to Kellen when he had first surveyed the situation, but he understood it now. It provided a cleaner line of sight to the other bandit that appeared to be ready to bear down on Auberon. This one, thankfully, did not bear the same resemblance to a dead man. However, the Deer’s position was currently being borne down by bandits, and Kellen knew there was no world he’d be able to fire, let alone aim, if he knew bandits were pushing him from behind.

Instead, Kellen took three steps forward, towards Auberon. There was still a comfortable distance between them, but the added proximity left a wider angle between his House Leader and his target. Instinctually, and with some guilt, Kellen noted that his new position more directly put Auberon in between the familiar-looking bandit, but he had no time to criticize himself for that cowardice. He could tell instinctually that Auberon was in the same place he had found himself in Luin village, righteous fury fueling his strikes. He wouldn't be able to assist him, not yet. Taking a deep breath in, Kellen drew his arm back and only hesitated for half a second before he let the arrow loose towards the pony-tailed brigand.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Kellen Fraldarius didn’t need to wait for long for the many imagined threats that plagued his mind to be replaced by tangible, real ones. If a gust of wind was enough to cause him to yelp – and it was – the veritable onslaught of arrows and magic that pinged off of the barrier Kaira threw up was enough to put Kellen into stunned silence that only broke when a stronger gust of wind nearly took him off his feet. That dreadful weight returned quickly as the wind revealed their opponents on the roofs.

In that singular moment of clarity, Kellen knew what an experienced archer would do. Draw, knock, aim, and shoot at any of the clear targets who had revealed their position. As he attempted the first step of this process, he found his fingers shaking more than normal, and by the time he had managed to knock an arrow, the fog had set back in.

It was in the context of this showcase of inability that Kellen heard Professor Malathice’s next instruction. His face blanched, and when he turned to Veronica to attempt to seek any sense of solace, he was dismayed to hear her put one of his many concerns into words.

As he saw a blade strike out from the fog towards Professor Simeon, the arrow Kellen had painstakingly succeeded in nocking slipped from his index and middle fingers. It clattered to the ground softly, but the sound of it was enough to keep him grounded in the reality of the unfolding situation. Hurriedly moving to scoop it up, he looked to his fellow students.

“I’m, er- I’m going to do my best to keep looking at the sky. Please don’t let one of them, uh...” Kellen wisely stopped himself before he put to words one of the many fears that occupied him. Turning his eyes towards the sky, it wasn’t clear whether the next words were for him or his classmates. “And, um, be careful.”

Kellen’s neck was firmly craned upwards, looking in the fog for any sign of movement. It would have been possible for him to keep an eye on his immediate surroundings as well, but he knew instinctually that if he were to look at the ground troops pushing in towards the reserve of students on the backline, any small hope of him drawing and loosing an arrow would disappear. So instead, he did what he could to ignore the din of combat and stare at the sky.

It was difficult to see much of anything through the fog. Hesitantly, Kellen pulled the bowstring to half-draw, gently raising it while doing his best to count his breaths and remain calm. It was sometime after the number seven that he first noticed a disturbance in the fog 30 meters above his head. It was nigh imperceptible, but an ever-active sense of anxiety had honed Kellen’s sense of danger. His bow was already ready to fire, all it took was a quick adjustment of his aim and a final yank of his right arm. And he did so.

As the arrow flew through the sky, Kellen thought, for half a second, that perhaps his instincts has led him astray. It was just as he looked down to grab another arrow that he heard the loud whinny of a pegasus and looked to see the tip of a wing gliding along the fog, its course clearly disrupted by the unexpected projectile. Had he fired a bit higher, he was almost certain it would have connected. Kellen drew another arrow and did his best to track the set of wings that were now hovering a bit too close to the group, but the rider was simply moving too quickly.

“Veronica!” His eyes didn’t leave the sky, both for the sake of keeping track of the Pegasus’s position and avoiding the inevitable shakes that would follow seeing enemy warriors so close to them. “One’s there!” Kellen’s arrow remained trained on what little of the pegasus he could see in the fog, but his eyes focused more on the periphery to see if he could note any other attempt to dive in. He thought better of wasting a shot trying to hit a flying target that was trying to evade his shot.

Another opportunity quickly presented itself. From the fog, a small glow of magic could be spotted. Kellen remembered the mages he had seen on the rooftops, and this one, from as far as he could tell, had hardly moved. The glow wasn’t much, but it was enough for Kellen to fire one more arrow into its general direction, just as a sharp beam of magical wind flew in his direction. Kellen hurled himself out of the way, hissing as his elbows and knees collided roughly with the ground before him. He could feel his chest constrict as his brain started to imagine what the spell may have done had it collided with him, but he was thankfully dislodged when he heard a pained cry from the roof above him where his arrow had found its purchase. “Got one!” He yelped, hastily rising. Judging by the sound of it, Kellen was sure the man was still alive, but he doubted he would be firing off another spell in the immediate future.

---

@Hero

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

One small figure still sat in the carriage that had carried the guard unit to Magdred. With a bow strung over his shoulder and his sword balanced on his knees, Kellen Fraldarius was having difficulty getting his legs to move. Or, frankly, any part of his body to move.

The morning’s announcement that they would be undertaking another mission had not found fertile ground in the young Fraldarius’s mind. He had been entirely silent during the briefing, the preparation, and the journey. Anyone who had tried to say hello would have been met with a haunted gaze and little else. It was only as he realized the carriage had been stopped for a few minutes that he now realized that despite his best efforts, his legs were not interested in operating. He couldn’t bear to look down to see what the possible cause of the newly-induced paralysis was. So his eyes remained fixed on the wall across from him.

These were the same carriages that had taken them to Luin. The proof was in the small grove in a wood beam that made up the wall of the carriage, one that Kellen found himself transfixed with for the second time in as many months. He couldn’t shake the thought of their last “outing”, despite his best efforts to distract himself from the images that sought to play themselves before him every time he let his focus drift from the grove. More than any of those images though, it was the all too precise memory of the smell that kept Kellen paralyzed. Blood. Sweat. Metal.

The new students were lucky. They hadn’t done this before - he hoped. They didn’t know what was about to come. Kellen did. How Auberon, Jorah, Kayden, or any number among them could find themselves excited to find themselves back on another “mission” after the last was a query far beyond Kellen’s mental abilities.

It was at this moment that Kellen’s sword slid off of his locked legs. It landed on the wooden floor of the carriage with a soft thud, just out of arm’s reach from Kellen’s sitting position. Instinctually, he crouched down to pick it up, and discovered with alarm that indeed, his legs were still perfectly functional. The soft utterance of a curse also confirmed that his vocal chords were working just fine as well.

His head turned to look to the fog outside of the carriage. He could see Lienna, Kayden, and Clarissa, amongst other students, preparing for whatever was to come. Kellen's back straightened as best as it could in the cramped space of the carriage and he slid the sword and its scabbard back across his left hip. While he had no intention of using it, he had found in his sporadic practice with his bow that his already shaky stance tended to worsen when the familiar weight of his blade was not sitting just above his hip. Gingerly - he was still not quite comfortable wearing the thing - he slid the oak shortbow off of his back. A quiver of arrows sat just below his left shoulder blade, held up by a sturdy piece of leather that ran across his chest.

As Kellen emerged from the carriage, he realized that his already limited skill with the bow would be further tested by the limited visibility. The sense of comfort that he had hoped would accompany his newly-chosen weapon was decaying rapidly. Before his legs could lock up again, he quickly wandered over to his fellow students, just to catch the tail end of Kayden’s speech. Some piece of the future Emperor's confidence bolstered Kellen enough that he could get out a few words to the other students.

“I’m sorry. I’m here now.”

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

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.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

_{@Hero@Scribe of Thoth}

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.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

_{@Hero@Scribe of Thoth}

---

Even before such a grim announcement, Kellen Fraldarius’ face had been a few shades too pale for a healthy youth. For a few minutes following the horrible announcement, it only got worse. Kellen looked a bit like a revenant who had failed to pass on to the next plane. The reassurances of new guards and a curfew were hardly reassuring when the archbishop seemed to have little concrete information.

Though Kellen didn’t know it, he arrived quickly to the same conclusion as Auberon. The Archbishop wouldn’t convene the students like this if the rumours hadn’t been validated in some way. The most optimistic read of this was that they had spotted an intruder. The more realistic was that someone a student had already gone missing. It hadn’t been anyone from the Rose Unit. But beyond that, Kellen wasn’t at all comfortable trying to determine who might have been missing in a sea of students he had hardly taken five minutes to look at, let alone speak to or learn much about. He hadn’t heard or seen anything to cause alarm on the grounds, though it was no surprise given the amount of time he had been spending in his room.

He turned to look at Lienna, who was visibly shaken by the news. He frowned but knew better than to try and offer any sort of reassurance. Not that he was sure he’d be able to come up with anything as it stood. After a few moments, she shot up from her seat and started off. This was becoming a bit of a habit, though Kellen didn’t pay it much mind. He still recalled how their last conversation had gone.

He turned to Auberon as his peer spoke a simple, yet unsettling truth. "Kellen, you're probably the most valuable hostage in the Blue Lions". Kellen didn’t offer much in terms of reaction, beyond a quiet “Oh.” Auberon didn’t dwell on it, but Kellen would. Nevertheless, he nodded briskly at Auberon’s instructions. He was still frustrated with nearly every Lion of the Rose Unit, but in the face of whatever this was, his resentment towards his classmates seemed almost trivial. Almost.

“You be careful too, Auberon.” He tried to look in the blonde’s eyes to determine if he had reached the same conclusion Kellen had, or if the instructions were merely an attempt to secure his authority. His right leg started to bounce a bit, and Kellen rested a hand on it. Only after it stopped did Kellen stand up. As he did so, his eyes turned to the entrance of the cathedral. He could see Michail stationed there, and for half a moment he made eye contact with his professor. He was almost certain his professor would have more information on this, though he doubted getting it would bring him any sort of peace.

Shaking his head, he looked back to his classmates. “If, um. If anyone needs someone to walk with them, you can knock.” He didn’t quite smile, but his eyes looked a bit less cloudy as he spoke. “If - rather, please, say your name or something so I know it’s, well, you.”

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

_{@Obscene Symphony}

---

On the other end of the field, an arrow planted itself firmly into the sand a few feet from its target. If one had traced the origin of its arc, they’d find it lead to a non-descript bow being shakily held in the hands of one Kellen Fraldarius, with little emotion crossing his face as he reached for another arrow from his quiver.

It was a rare thing to see Kellen without his sword. Ever since the return to Luin Village, he had taken great pains to never leave his room without it. Indeed, even now, Kellen felt his balance was off, the familiar weight on his left hip replaced by a new sensation of a quiver hanging off his back. Even the Deer’s House Leader seemed to pick up on the strangeness, a fact that was made all the more alarming by the fact that Kellen had the distinct feeling that Jorah knew next to nothing about him.

In the previous days, Kellen had held onto a vague hope that perhaps, like some of his other classmates, his parents would withdraw him from the school. He had even thought of writing to explain the danger, but had ultimately decided against after his fourth attempt at such a letter had left him with a stomach ache that lasted for a few hours.

After realizing there would be no formal exit from the academy, Kellen had toyed with the idea of running away. He was sure though, that if either the academy or his family found him, he’d be sent back. And there was no way he’d settle down in some anonymous village without walls, where any band of raiders could come by and blow up half of it without the timely intervention of a bunch of students.

Reflecting on his situation, it was clear he only had one option. Survive the year at this academy. Survive the missions, and whatever other dangers – real or perceived – that would be coming his way. This realization, terrible though it was, gave Kellen some sense of uneasy peace. He could try to exert some control over his situation, try to avoid being put in reach of whatever harm seemed to be coming for him.
It was with this sentiment in mind that Kellen had grabbed a bow from the rack, crossing paths with Jorah and earning the aforementioned look. He had kept his eyes towards the ground as he took his position, doing his best to avoid looking at any of the Lions or professors. Jorah’s look had been enough.

As Kellen looked at the stray arrow that had landed a distance from the target, he saw Jorah’s arrows find their targets in rapid order. “Maybe next we’ll shoot apples off heads, eh?” Kellen took care not to let himself be distracted. If this next shot were to fall short, he could see Auberon, Michail, or any other number of people insisting he put this stupid bow down and grab a sword. And if that happened, he’d be back on the front line the next time the school sent them on a “training exercise”.

Finally succeeding in fishing an arrow out of his quiver, Kellen set it against the string. He sucked in his breath as his arm drew the string back, pulling it further back than he had the last time. As he loosed, he felt that familiar sense of blood rush to his head, but it dissipated quickly when the arrow sunk itself into the bottom of the target. It wasn’t nearly as precise as Jorah’s shots, but it was still in his mock opponent, and that was good enough. He turned to his right to look at him. “Maybe not yet.” He said with the smallest of smiles.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

A Counselor Consoles

"I didn't throw them in. They volunteered."

“An admirable sentiment, were they not children,” Lysander sighed to himself.

The meeting had left him pensive for the better part of the day and had carried over to even now. He felt like his body moved on its own will, administering lessons without too much thought. Few people approached him, more excited for the arrival of Lady Arianthe, and for that he was grateful. It left him ample time to think, after all.

He poured over Michail’s notes for what had to be the dozenth time. They were a lot more detailed than he had expected, especially since he didn’t know Michail to take paperwork seriously. Aside from Lienna and Veronica, Michail managed to aptly describe each student’s strength and weakness with suggested lessons going forward to improve them. While Lysander initially felt the evaluations were somewhat blunt, it was obvious he knew what he was doing. Well, he was a Knight of Seiros, so it shouldn’t have been that surprising.

Stopping on the last Blue Lion, he frowned down at Michail’s suggestion. He had chastised Michail for leading them to battle too soon, but it seemed he had agreed. A few students had been marked with a similar sentence on seeing Lysander for counseling. But did Michail write this because he knew he would read it or because this was something he genuinely thought was best?

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Lysander put everything away. He supposed that he should check in on one of the students Michail recommended. He waited for the bells to signal the end of the after-class meeting, and then decided to leave his office with one paper in hand. He walked through the dorms until he reached the room he was looking for, knocking twice sharply.

“Kellen Fraldarius? Are you there?” He asked.

It was muffled, but Lysander could hear a muffled “Oh Goddess…” from the other side of the door, followed by the sound of shuffling footsteps and the soft click of a lock turning. As the door swung open, Kellen Fraldarius peered out, keeping himself a safe distance from the doorway and whoever might be waiting. As he recognized Lysander, his shoulders sunk ever so slightly.

Kellen had rushed to his room the moment his professor’s assessment and Auberon’s anxiety-inducing request for a meeting had been heard. Kellen hadn’t had much cause to interact with Professor Roland, but he remembered a few key things about the man. The first was that he had been supposed to join on the ill-fated training expedition. Secondly, he remembered that Professor Roland had admitted to being responsible for the creation of the Rose Unit. Last of all, he was the Academy’s counselor. What exactly that meant at a place like Garreg Mach, Kellen was afraid he would soon find out.

“Umm… Hi there Professor." It was difficult to read the expression on Kellen’s face. There was the usual sense of dread that overtook his features whenever he was forced into a conversation, but it wasn’t nearly as blatant as it might have once been. Indeed, he appeared… preoccupied. “Did I miss something, were there more lessons?” A higher power willing, there would be a banal explanation to the professor’s purposeful appearance at his door.

Lysander brightened up considerably, giving Kellen a small wave and an apologetic smile. “Sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if you had a moment to talk?” He asked. “It won’t take long."

The regular haunted expression displayed itself in full force over Kellen’s face. Whatever had been previously distracting him was relegated to the back of his mind as the professor’s small talk set off alarm bells. It was clear Lysander had a reason for coming here, and as Kellen tried to assess what it may be, his eyes took in the paper in the professor’s hand. That had to be it.

“Oh. Of course." The Fraldarius boy stood there for half a moment before he realized he was still blocking the door. He took a step backwards, lightly kicking a crumpled shirt under the bed. Beyond the odd piece of clothing, and his sword leaning against wall in the corner of the room, Kellen’s quarters were quite barren. He interjected before Lysander would have a chance to really take things in. “Is it something from home?”

The professor stepped into the room and gave him a slight bow of gratitude, though he was a little confused by the question. “No, nothing like that, I can assure you,” He replied, choosing a spot close to the door to stand in so as to not intrude too much. “Has something happened that you’re worried about? I could always send word if need be."

Kellen let out a breath as he realized Lysander wasn’t trying to inspect his room. It was a good thing too. Tucked away in a drawer where Kellen had left it, an envelope with his father’s seal sat unopened. The last time Kellen had received such a letter, it had carried the news he would be attending Garreg Mach. This one would contain worse news, Kellen imagined. “No, it’s -- I’m alright." Some part of him had assumed Lysander would be following up on whatever dread omen this message contained, but that didn’t appear to be the case. “No need, I’m sure they’re being kept apprised of things. I just thought..." He let his hand rise slightly as he trailed off, pointing at the paper in the professor’s hands.

Lysander followed Kellen's gaze, finally understanding. Maybe he should have taken a moment to memorize it and leave it. Still, Kellen's anxiety was practically radiating off of him, and Lysander figured the best approach was to take things as slow as possible.

"My apologies, this is Professor Michail's report on the battle in Luin," He explained, wanting to be as transparent as possible. "After reading through everything, I thought it prudent if I checked in on everyone to see how they were doing. It was entirely unplanned and was a hastily made decision--" He cut himself off, not wanting to get back into blaming Michail again.

"I just wanted to see how you're holding up," He finished.

“Oh. Oh.” Kellen’s face seemed to sink a bit. Michail’s assessment of the Kellen’s performance had been fair, but Kellen was fixated on the mild critique that had been proffered. Proper grip of a sword, managing the reach of an opponent’s weapon, those were things he could work on. Fear? He was capable of identifying the many sources of it, but solutions were few and far between. That thought stuck with him as the professor followed up. Kellen looked down towards the ground, feigning interest in a nondescript stone. “I’m okay." He looked up, offering a small smile that stopped somewhere past his nose but before his eyes.

Lysander tried not to frown but failed as Kellen met his eyes. He let out a hesitant sigh as he leaned back against the wall, finding himself holding back a lot of his initial thoughts. What was important was Kellen’s wellbeing, as Michail had already been reprimanded. He’d be lying if he wasn’t tempted to sneak in at least one ‘I told you so’, however.

“Are you sure?”He asked softly, wanting to focus more on the student than the professor.“It was...sudden. I’d understand if you felt some need to express yourself without having anyone to talk to. That is my job here, after all--a counselor consoles. Well, counsels, but we can pretend they’re the same thing." He threw in a light hearted joke.

Any remnant of a smile faded from Kellen’s face as Lysander pressed him. This was what he had feared. Kellen couldn’t hold it against the professor, it was a fair question. But he wasn’t prepared to talk about the trip to Luin. The joke would have normally earned a smile, but Kellen was afraid it would be taken as an invitation to press further. He let it hang for half a moment as he considered how to navigate the situation he found himself in. Without much thought, his eyes were drawn back to the report. What had his professor written about him that had caused the Academy’s counselor to come knocking on his door? In a rare moment of forthrightness, the question found its way from his brain to his mouth. “What does it say? About me?” His face was set as he looked at Lysander directly.

An expected response, even if it wasn’t what Lysander had hoped for. He looked back down at the page, clearing his throat. “Professor Michail commended you for your skill, there isn’t any room for doubt there. A few pointers on your form that he’ll likely go over in the next combat class,” He skimmed Michail’s writing before looking back up at Kellen. “He also mentioned that you were shaken by the bloodshed."

There it was.

He could still taste the bile in his mouth from the retching and remember the stinging feeling of tears after the scene of the battle had finally been secured. On the way back, beyond a perfunctory thanks to the other students, he had made himself scarce and spent most of his time in his room, pacing about and trying not to jump at every unexpected sound -- an activity that had finally been interrupted by the teacher’s briefing and Lysander’s appearance. He might have considered these distractions helpful if he weren’t so concerned about the possible appearance of bandits or axes just outside of his sightline.

Kellen’s lips pursed, his face betraying no other reaction to Lysander’s words. He had no concrete reason to personally doubt Lysander’s sincerity. But what the professor would do with the information, he couldn’t say. “I think I... “ He swallowed audibly. “I think we all were." He shouldn’t have been, though. Out of all of these students, he was one of the few who had actually seen a battlefield. “I’m fine now, I just - I just wasn’t prepared."

“I’d be more surprised if it had been any other way. You aren’t being singled out, either; after this I’ll be speaking with a few others as well,” Lysander admitted. “But still, I don’t want you to think that you have to put on a brave face for anyone."

The fact others were being approached put Kellen a bit more at ease. He had been nervous that he had been singled out in some way, though any amount of attention was still… unwelcome. “Clearly this report shows I’m not much good at it, if I were trying." A small smirk came unbidden to his face. “I think Professor Kalonic might have been, ah, overly concerned. You should do the rounds for the others."

Lysander stared at Kellen for a moment, albeit he relented. “I see,” Was all he had to say to that, but even if he tried to push it, he supposed he wouldn’t get very far even if he tried. Still, leaving things like this felt wrong, so he thought he would at the very least make sure that Kellen knew he was around.

“If anything changes, do let me know. As I said, it’s part of my job to make sure every student is alright regardless of their situation,” Lysander told him cheerfully.“I’ll leave you be, then. Thank you for your time."

Kellen remained standing there until the professor closed the door. He walked over to lock it again, before sliding back on his sheath and sword. He put his hand back on the hilt, but it didn’t give him much comfort as he began his small circuit across the room once more.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

_{@Hero [@ScribeOfThoth]}

---

Kellen did all he could to keep the air circulating through his lungs. He could feel the invisible hand tensed around his ribcage, ready to grip and force the air out the moment he let it. His eyes were darting about madly as he tried to maintain this discipline, and they landed up Imogen throwing her blade and proceeding to tackle one of the robed figures. The strength behind her punches made Kellen wince, and he was relieved when he saw arrows fly into the other standing mage, courtesy of Jorah and Kaira. As the final standing figure beat hasty retreat via a spell that almost made Kellen regret his lack of aptitude with the arcane, he recognized in a detached way that the tide was turning.

"Hold it together a little bit longer," Auberon said, facing the bandit. "I'll watch your back, but you have to calm down and watch your front too."

It wasn’t much, as far as comforting words went. But Kellen wasn’t used to much in the best of times, nor from the devout Galatea who, based on the sparse impression Kellen had formed of him, seemed more focused on heaven than earth. Kellen’s brow softened for a moment, and he let out a long shaky sigh.

“I’ll, umm. I can make it.” A bit of colour returned to his cheeks as his eyes set on their final obstacle. The Kalonic siblings struck the large bandit, one after the other. Kellen felt hope begin to grow as he realized that they might be able to take the bandit down on their own. But it was after Euphemia’s successful strike that the world seemed to tilt. As the bandit wrapped the fingers of one hand around the Golden Deer Professor’s neck, Kellen felt a familiar sense of warmth and weightlessness as the edges of objects began to blur. The cry of fear from Michail, who had otherwise seemed above the danger, only reinforced the sudden softness in Kellen’s knees. He could feel himself begin to buckle when he saw a rounded line of metal rise above Euphemia’s hand, and plunge itself into the arm of the bandit.

Not softly, she fell to the ground. Wounded, but not dead. Kellen felt his knees solidify. In the next 15 seconds, Kellen knew someone would die. He could almost guarantee it wouldn’t be him, if he stayed back. But it also raised the chances that it would be one of his classmates. He thumped his chest with a small fist, trying to regain some sense of warmth in his torso. With what remained of his willpower, he would keep himself together - for those 15 seconds.

As Auberon charged in, Kellen followed. His first thought was to try and extricate Euphemia, but he saw Clarissa had had the same thought and was far better equipped to tend to the professor. While the others sought to bring the brute down, looking for weak points in his admittedly failing armour, Kellen’s eyes never left the axe that had nearly bisected him. If allowed time to fully swing, Kellen wasn’t sure anyone, beyond the professors, would be able to parry the blow. As Auberon wound up to bring the man down, Kellen yelled out a curse and thrust his sword towards the uninjured arm of the bandit and the weapon he was wielding.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

_{@Hero @Scribe Of Thoth}

---

Kellen kept one leg in front of the other as he continued to sprint in the direction of the mages. Kellen had a passing dislike of magic. All of his brothers did too, though that may have been more thanks to their sister’s aptitude with it – and tendency to showcase said aptitude when she was first learning. While it was rare to see Srengese raiders properly trained, some had a natural affinity for it, as the odd poor soul had discovered after seemingly disarming a bandit. Even then, he had never seen anything like that cloud, or the destruction it had portended. These were not some dilettantes who could tepidly light a flame in their hands, they were trained. But they were distracted, gathering around the cart to try and recreate the earlier explosion. Kellen tucked his chin in as he heard the ping of an arrow colliding with the rough metal of the bandit’s helm.

Kellen’s head instinctively pivoted in the direction of the sound where his eyes took in two pieces of information. The first was that Imogen was faster than him. He could see the dash of pink hair was nearer to the mages than he was, and he was thankful to see that she had been unimpeded in her journey. The second observation was less so the presence of a figure, but the absence of one. Where in hell had the bandit gone? Kellen’s eyes darted, and they registered the axe before clocked the monster wielding Time seemed to slow for half a moment Kellen saw the axe coming down towards his shoulder. A blow like this would take Kellen’s arm, if he was lucky, or the upper half of his body if he wasn’t. Skidding as he began to turn himself to meet his opponent, Kellen’s arm tried to raise his blade to catch the blade, but he knew he was too slow and the axe was too quick.

Will I even feel it?

Michail’s lance left the question unanswered. Kellen hadn’t spotted his professor approaching, but he appeared to move with an alacrity that nearly matched the brutish bandit. As Michail fended off blow after blow, Kellen felt his previously sure grip on his blade melt, as it dangled loosely from his hand. He knew his professor needed help. But he looked back down at the blood covering his ruined uniform, and he couldn’t say with certainty that it wasn’t his. Kellen felt his feet taking two shaky steps backwards, along his original path towards the mages, but more crucially, away from that bandit. His eyes were trained on his axe, every blow Michail managed to parry causing Kellen to shake. He only registered Auberon once he spoke.

“I, umm… I don’t think so.” There was no breath in Kellen’s words. His whole body was shaking like when his brothers had locked him outside the keep in his nightclothes during a particularly cold night. If he was given the opportunity to run off the field right now, and never see anyone again, he might take it. But here his House Leader was, mere seconds after his professor had stepped in to save him. Kellen couldn’t stop himself from shaking, but he could stop himself from shrinking away, at least for a few moments. Even if he were able to run, those mages were planning something drastic, and Kellen was doubtful even at a full paced sprint that he’d get away before the rest of the village and those sorry souls who had entered it would be blasted away. Those sorry souls included his classmates, and his professors.

Kellen couldn’t assume a ready stance, not with his body trembling and his mind whirring away. But his stance widened ever so slightly as he took his first real breath since he had lost track of the bandit. He spared a glance at the mages, who were still focused on their task. He could see Imogen was nearly on top of them, and he hoped that the others were prepared to support her with the mages. He wouldn’t turn his back on the bandit again, not while he was still standing.