talys's heart.

       Caeda finds herself spending more and more time outside of Garreg Mach with each passing day, passing the lonely hours gliding over the treetops of the Sealed Forests atop Deimos, taking in the wide expanse of blue sky overhead the stretch of rich green below. Fódlan grows unfamiliar and forgein without those she calls home to keep her company. Perhaps it is for this very reason so many of her hours are spent with Deimos, part sentimentality and part to escape the dull Monastery grounds.

      Her routine of taking to the skies is abruptly interrupted, however, by fall — a steep drop from Deimos’s saddle, through the trees, and onto the forest floor. It knocks the wind out of her, and for a moment all she does is lie there, cheek pressed to the wet earth with her head ringing as she tries to process what had just happened. 

Eventually, Caeda hauls herself to her feet and staggers back to the Monastery. Had Deimos found his way back to the stables? Unfortunately, she is no state to look…

      There is only one person in the infirmary when she arrives — a young woman with pink hair done up in two ponytails. Caeda glances around the room, with all its empty cots and dust-covered surfaces. 

      “Pardon me, but are you a healer? I am in need of some salves… and perhaps a heal.”

seraphiia​:

      As focused as she had been on progressing her magical studies, a process that had only accelerated after her transfer into the Black Eagles house, her swordplay had gone through a touch of neglect as a result, something that Celica absolutely intended to remedy once she found the time. Without Saber or one of the other mercenary men around to spar with, it had become much easier to slip out of her usual routine.

      And so when a ‘fantastical’ training experience started being advertised on every inch of the monastery grounds, Celica couldn’t help but give into curiosity, setting some time out in the day to gear up and head over to the training grounds. Though Beloved Zofia sat sheathed at her hip—for she felt anxious when her precious blade wasn’t near—she planned to use the iron sword she brought along, not wanting to give herself an advantage over the other trainees.

     But she doesn’t expect to walk inside to lukewarm chatter rather than the sounds of battle, blinking as a jangling woman dressed in glimmering accessories and colorful, sheer fabric suddenly bounds up to her, asking what part she planned to play in the ‘game’. The Zofian blinks. Game? “Ah… I…” Celica fumbles for a response, “I thought we were to train. Is this supposed to be a contest of… sport?” 

     Carnelian hues stray from the girl’s face, spotting Caeda standing not too far behind her. She looks the same as Celica feels—bemused, and slightly out of place.

      “No, silly!” The girl laughs, pulling Celica’s attention back to her. She’s seemingly unfazed by the misunderstanding. “This is Double Dungeons and Dragon’s Curse! Our live-action roleplay campaign, because that’s the BEST way to play.”

      Celica stares at her blankly. Sighing, the girl adds, “The story we’re going to play out? About the dragon hunt? I’m Gisela, but my character’s name is Alfyn.” She gestures to Caeda, “She’s going to be Karasi. Our hot, yet mysterious myrmidon only going on this journey to collect the dragon’s bounty. And you…” Gisela looks the queen up and down, humming to herself, “Maia! A traveling mercenary Karasi meets at a tavern. You two strike up a snarky rapport, and you, Maia, decide to lend your sword to Karasi’s cause!”

      “Um…” Gisela takes Celica by the shoulders and begins to usher her towards the clothing trunk, leaving the Zofian scrambling to grasp the situation, “W-wait, so, I just drop everything I’m doing to risk my life for this stranger I’ve come upon?”

      “It’s because of the unspoken connection between you two! Also, you think tagging along will help you find clues to your missing brother.” With a firm pat to the shoulders, Gisela steps away from Celica, eagerly gesturing toward the clothing box, “Now come on, get dressed, you two! The game’s going to start soon!”

      Gisela goes to check on a few other players, and Celica smiles weakly at Caeda. “…So, they’ve gotten you, too?”

To Caeda’s great relief, Celica seems just as lost in the whole affair as she is.

       There’s those words again: Double Dungeons and Dragon’s Curse. Caeda knows what those words mean, but with the way Gisela says them, it is incomprehensible, as if she is speaking another language. It seems the concept of simplicity did not exist within the walls of Garreg Mach.

      “Beg pardon, but I merely wish to understand the premise behind this — er — Double Dungeons and Dragon’s Curse. We are to… act out this dragon hunt?”

      Gisela rolls her eyes. “Duh! That’s what I just said.”

      Caeda nods. “I see… so it is like a form of play-acting?”

      “Well… kinda. But it’s totally different in so many ways — you’ll see! Go on, hurry, get changed. We’re starting soon!”

      And with that, their eager showrunner practically pushes the two princesses over to the trunk full of costumes and leaves them to decide how to fashion themselves for their newly appointed roles on their own.

      “Indeed, I could not get in a word edgewise. It’s astounding how much energy she has for this” Caeda pulls out a long black cloak and holds it up. “Maia, the traveling mercenary… what a charming role she’s given you.” Caeda draws the cloak around herself. “I, Karasi, thank you for your companionship…!”

      The last words had barely left her lips before the Talysian bursts into laughter. She draws her cape tighter around her, stifling her giggles.

           How long had it been since it seems every soul on the Monastery’s grounds had… vanished? It cannot have been more than a few weeks at most, Caeda reasons, but it feels as though lifetimes had passed since she had seen her beloved companions last. 

          It is strange, how much bigger the space gets without anyone to fill it. In the absence of the usual din of laughter in the courtyard and pattering of footsteps along the cobblestone footpaths, she finds the silence to be deafening. Life goes on in spite of the sudden disappearances — with the lack of helping hands, there is even more to do than usual — and it is as if there is everything and nothing to do all at once.

          Each day seems to pass more slowly than the last without anyone to fill her hours. She knows, rationally, that her allies had yet to return from… wherever they had gone off to. No one seems to know. But it does not stop her from wandering the expanse of Garreg Mach, searching for those who she knows she will not find.

          She resents this feeling of hopelessness, of ignorance. What are they facing? Are they safe? What can she do, now, here, away from them? It will kill her, she thinks, this silence. To not know.

          The crunch of hay beneath her feet as she strides through the stables, empty save for the horses and pegasi, cuts through the silence a bit too loudly.

          “Est?” she calls, softly, to no response.

          A soft sigh escapes her, footsteps making their way to the training grounds next. Stepping over splintered wooden swords and battered dummies, she raises a cupped hand and calls once more,

          “Kris?”

          Again, silence. And so she continues on, through the Monastery and up the stairs until she reaches the library. The door creaks open, revealing a thick layer of dust upon the bookcases and tables, candlelight flickering in the empty space.

          “Merric? …Maria?”

          Nothing but the leaping shadows on the walls are there to reply.

          Last, she finds herself in the dormitories, before a door that had been shut so long her memories of the room’s interior are beginning to slip from her mind. Carefully, gingerly, she knocks, knuckles rapping against the rough surface. 

          There is no response. Not even the rustling of papers or the creak of floorboards.

          She knocks again. Still, silence. Pressing her lips to the wood, she calls,

         “Marth?”

          And she lingers there, before his door, for a heartbeat, though she knows he will not reply.

While the winter air seemed to invigorate Deimos, it is having the opposite effect on Caeda.

          The island princess has never been able to adapt well to cold weather, always finding her movements to be slower and stiffer whenever the temperature began to drop. In vibrant sun’s warmth is where she felt her best; she is, and will always be, after all, a Talysian at heart.

         But never one to be content with her shortcomings, Caeda strives to improve herself where she could, and a pegasus derby up in the wintery mountains sounds like just the place to start.

         She had been expecting a simple race through the gray sky, through the light flurry of snow. What she had not been expecting was the strange, extravagant headwear everyone gathered for the race seemed to sport. For a moment, Caeda wondered if she had wandered into some sort of strange hat aficionado club meeting, but she was quickly informed that the hats were indeed part of the derby.

         Soon fitted in a wide-brimmed, feathered number, Caeda’s stiff fingers pilot Deimos to the edge of a precipice where the race would soon begin. She can already feel the hat teeter dangerously on her head.

         She turns a young woman with bright eyes beside her. “It always seems like there is something interesting occurring at the Academy, doesn’t it? … Your hat suits you quite well! You’d best hold onto it, now.”

... passed.

SKILL POINTS EARNED. 1                          lance improved! c → c+ ( 5 )

Of all the things one could want for a pet, Caeda truly cannot understand the noblewoman’s choice of a great, hulking, fearsome monkey.

     Caeda reasons that she is not in a position to judge; Deimos is notorious for his foul attitude and worse temper, and yet she loved the pegasus all the same. She could sympathize with the noblewoman — she can understand having a soft spot when it came to one’s animal companions. It is why she had accepted the servant’s frantic request in the first place. The Sealed Forest is not too far from the grounds of Garreg Mach either. Caeda had reasoned it would be a quick, easy task.

     What Caeda had not expected, however, was for the ‘ small little thing ’ the servant had described to be a hulking beast with evil, beady eyes and a deadly sharp, double-edged blade grasped tightly in its hand. The monkey sprung upon her the moment it had spotted the Talysian, silver sword flashing as it swung wildly through the air.

     She had turned on her heel and ran, scrambling through the foliage, the monkey and its blade hot on her heels. Caeda had never been one to turn away from danger, but the absurdity of it all overrides every rational thought in her mind. All she could do, now, is run. Run back to the monastery to retrieve her lance and perhaps, then, she would try again. But as quickly as the idea is raised, she dismisses it. The lady had specifically instructed that they would not hurt even a hair on its head. It seems as though the lady’s servant had sent her into the Sealed Forest to die.

     So preoccupied is she with her thoughts, Caeda does not realize there is someone in her path until it is too late.

     SMACK!

     For a moment, she is weightless, and her body smarts as she collides with the earth a moment later. Hands dig into the dirt as she staggers to her feet again, and Caeda throws a glance over her shoulder to check how much distance she had put between herself and the monkey. She turns back to the student she had run into.

     “Have you been sent to retrieve the lady’s pet as well? Turn back! It is much too dangerous here!”

may 2022: passed ( hiatus )

april 2022: passed

total skill points: 6 + 1 ( 7 )

arcstral​:

The making of lovers at war’s end. Their hopeful, rose-tinted eyes and bumbling words cast toward one another within the scarred ruins of Dolhr Keep, the scene of their confession sharing walls with fresh bodies and ravaged floors. Even with the great march of time onward from that moment he remembers the words belonged to a well-meaning aide:

‘Love cannot always make the leap from heart to heart by itself; sometimes, you must speak it aloud and give it wings.’

Bittersweet Princess Nyna, faithful friend to them both, who had provided Marth of Altea with the counsel needed to congeal his feelings for the Talysian princess. Spurring him to construct his bridges, of man to woman, where he once feared to lay down a single stone. Even now he follows her guidance. Love, trumpeted in a single name. He presses his stricken voice into the top of Caeda’s head, arms twisting around her waist like a climbing lock of honeysuckle vines. So tight and so close his clinch that he could not immediately feel where he ended and where she began.

“Caeda! Oh, Caeda… My sweet Caeda…”

In Fódlan, he says her name as if there is power to be found in its every syllable, as if every repetition of it can make the heart of Talys more definite than she is. The solid weight of her in his arms, the softness of her hair around its wind-tangled burs, the faded substrate of her perfume watered down by brine and sulfur and sea salt. Marth almost cannot believe that she is real! But she calls him her stars, the narrow distance between their bodies touches one heart to another, and what other proof can be enough?

“Lonely? Never. I have many to thank, for the presence of dear friends both old and new ensured my feelings were sound.” Mirroring her restraint, his hold upon Caeda lightens but does not release, his feet rocking them on a tender sway no doubt to the churning ire of his lover’s stallion. “…But I did not ever feel the same without you and that is even worse.”

And what could be worse so than that? Perhaps the very fact of their reunion in the stables; the air here inseparable from rustic noises and smells. A king and his queen-to-be to conduct their loving reunion with the barn animals as their witness! A none too romantic development and his smile curved briefly with the humor before it sobered to a gentle line.

“I missed you, Caeda. Deeply… Inconsolably,” he sighs, pressing their foreheads together. There is much he wishes to reveal of his emotions, but as always, he cannot help but think of her first. Marth draws back in the careful search for wear across her lovely features. “You must be tired from your journey. The passage across Archanea alone is enough to impress with its distance. Not many of our continent bear the experience of the Whitewings in traveling to such distant lands. Do you feel well? Are you hurt anywhere?”    

He says her name like it is a prayer, each syllable brimming with reverence: SHII — da. 

      It is sweeter than any song, his intonation clear and bright, like a swiftly running brook or waves crashing onto the shore; she understands, now, why the gods demand hymns and arias to be written and performed in their honor. Is this how the greatest of gods hear their names upon a worshiper’s tongue? A sound like honey and rolling fields and campfires all in one? Caeda thinks she could stand here forever, amidst the dust and hay and barn animals, with his arms around her waist and voice in her ear. 

      She could be drunk upon him — the mere sight of him is intoxicating. Contention steals over her; even if the sun darkened and the earth crumbled beneath their feet, Caeda does not think she would ever want anything else. Her heart aches for him at his profession, and she longs to tell him it was the same with her, too. There was no shortage of company, no matter where she went, and she is glad for it. Those bonds she had forged are irreplaceable, and she carries them closely to her heart. But to be with him is to be complete, whole. 

      He had missed her inconsolably, he says, pressing his forehead to hers. Caeda leans into the gesture, drawn to him as the tide is to the moon, hoping he’d find condolence, comfort, in her touch. They’d kiss, if Caeda just tilts her head just a slight bit more to the right — but before she could decide to act, he pulls away. Her face remains as it was, her eyes betraying her with only the barest look of disappointment, his own eyes searching for any trace of something amiss.

      “I am fine, Marth.” she says, tone somewhere between exasperation and appreciation. “The journey was an uneventful one, and it would take more than just a ship ride to tire me out. I miss the sea air, though I cannot say I would board again anytime soon. I fear I do not have the patience to bear the monotony any longer.”

The colorful posters plastered across the grounds had all read the same thing: READY FOR AN EXCITING AFTERNOON OF ACTION AND ADVENTURE? DRESS ON UP AND COME TO THE TRAINING GROUNDS FOR A FANTASTICAL EXPERIENCE! BRING YOUR OWN SWORD(S).

     There were dozens of them, stuck to every bare wall and column, the bright colors popping against the plain limestone, meant to draw the eyes of passerby. No signature could be found on the flyers, just a time and date. Caeda assumed it to be an advertisement for an afternoon of training, but could not imagine what ‘ action and adventure ’ would entail, nor what would make the training session a ‘ fantastical experience. ’ Perhaps they’d be meeting at the training hall before leaving to spar with a change of scenery? Or maybe it would be a lesson in foreign sword techniques? Whatever the case may be, Caeda donned her usual training gear, dulled iron sword hanging at her waist, and headed off in the direction of the training grounds. It certainly sounded like an invigorating experience — something fun and lively to break up the monotony of the usual training. 

     On a typical day, Garreg Mach’s training grounds are loud, cacophony of shouts, grunts, and the sharp clanging of metal ringing out and echoing upon the walls. But all is still and silent as Caeda steps into the dusty arena, the only noise being the creaking of the great dark oak doors and scattered chatter throughout the space. A young lady leaning against a nearby column stirs as Caeda enters, dull eyes quickly brightening with excitement. She is dressed in something Caeda can only describe as a costume: sheer silks and jangling jewelry, smooth golden coins dangling from her hair and waist. Caeda is reminded of the dancers of home; they, too, wielded swords — both decoratively and for combat. Caeda wonders if this is what the posters had meant by fantastical, and whether if it is too late to pivot ‘round and leave … not that she would not want to learn! But the skill would be wasted on her, she feels, with her battles usually fought atop pegasus’s wings.

     “Oh, hello!” the student in dancer’s attire calls, golden ornaments tinkling like a windchime as she hurries up to Caeda. “The training hall’s closed for the afternoon, ‘less you’re here for the event.”

     “The event?” Caeda parrots, confusion evident in her furrowed brows. “Please, excuse my lack of knowledge on the matter, but what sort of event is taking place here today?”

     The student’s eyebrows shoot into her bangs. “You don’t know? Double Dungeons and Dragon’s Curse, of course! Oh, I should probably introduce myself first.” she sticks out her hand. “I’m Gisela — but during the campaign, you’ll call me Alfyn, alrighty? Speaking of which, you’re waaay underdressed for today’s campaign.”      Gisela — no, Alfyn — well, perhaps still Gisela? — jabs a thumb over her shoulder at a trunk sitting by a weapons’ rack. “You can find a change of clothes in there. Hmm, you’ve got a slight build … I see a sword at your hip … oh! I know what you’ll be. What’s your name? I don’t think I ever caught it.”

     Caeda had barely opened her mouth to answer when Gisela cuts across her. “You can be Karasi! The dark and mysterious swordswoman.”

     It looks as though Caeda does not have much of a choice in the matter as Gisela seizes her by the shoulders and steers the Talysian over to the costumes. Caeda feels as though she should be a mite offended, perhaps even a bit angry, but all she merely flabbergasted at how forward and enthusiastic the student is. It seems as though this is some sort of preparation for a production, something to be performed on stage. It is not exactly what Caeda had in mind but, well … it will not hurt to try something new. And it doesn’t seem as though she could leave even if she wanted to.

     The doors creak open as Gisela rummages through the costume trunk, and the two of them turn towards the newcomer. The rushing excitement returns to Gisela’s eyes as she cranes her neck to see who has entered to be a player in this ‘ Double Dungeons & Dragon’s Curse. ’ Caeda spies a head of vermillion and an elegant gait, gleaming blade sheathed at her hip. Caeda knew of the woman — how could she not? — and offers Valentia’s queen, Celica, a smile. An unfamiliar face, but a friendly one nonetheless — Caeda cannot express how glad she is to have Celica here. At the very least, they would endure this strange predicament together.

               ♡ caeda. ENFJ-A ( the assertive protagonist )

extraverted. 70% intuitive. 56% feeling. 70% judging. 65% assertive. 61%

               ✧ byunited nations. ENTJ-T ( the turbulent commander )

extraverted. 80% intuitive. 52% thinking. 58% judging. 65% turbulent. 60%

— what are some differences between you and your muse?

♡ caeda is leagues more clever than i will ever be. if she was in high school she’d be the model speech & debate student, a perfect model un delegate. everything she says has purpose, meant to make an impact. she knows what sort of reaction her words will get. the words that come out of my mouth are dredged up from the pond scum of my frontal lobe. scraped off the top of my brain. i blurt out whatever i’m thinking and never think about the response i’m going to get.

♡ where caeda is incredibly selfless, i am incredibly selfish. caeda gives her all to marth’s cause, wishing for his protection and safety above all, even in the case of her death. i, on the other hand, seek the best opportunities for myself — academic, personal, whatever it may be — even if it meant knocking down peers to get it. 

♡ under pressure, caeda is cool and focused. she has a clear sight of her goal and doesn’t let external factors get to her head. she’s a quick thinker, good on her feet, and finds solutions to any problems that arise on her path to her goal pretty easily. i crack like an egg. i would explode if i experienced a fraction of what caeda went through. my tendons would melt. 

♡ caeda is so patient. so kind. so sweet and charming. i would have never have the patience or the empathy to accept a proposal like the one at the end of fe11 where caeda gave marth fourteen different hints and he was like don’t worry ^__^ i still need to go talk to your dad. i would have lost it truly

— what are some similarities between you and your muse?

✧ both caeda and i are described as tomboys, especially in our younger years. we became more feminine as we matured, but that rough edge is still there, and we both find ourselves walking a line between femininity and masculinity.

✧ extraversion. caeda and i both have no issue going up and talking to those we may not even know, and derive enjoyment from being around others. we aren’t shy in any capacity and enjoy public speaking.

✧ our loved ones are extremely important to us, and we would both go to extreme lengths to ensure their happiness. we both have the same love language: acts of service.

CAEDA. ( @arcaediaen )

heartsong. &marth ✧ redamancy. &marth ✧ of beasts unknown. &nótt dragons & dungeons. &celica ✧ i like your sleeves they’re real big. &deirdre ✧ + inbox!

DAGR. ( @skinfcxi )

ghost orchids. &mercedes. ✧ blue hour. &kana ✧ weapon shuffle. &priam ✧ brawlroom dancing. &freyr ✧ born in flames. &leif ✧ maverick. &innes ✧ swimming fool. &ótr ✧ ethereal ball shopping. &saias  + inbox!

ISHTAR. ( @mjolnrr )

parcatour. &celica phantom love. &priam ✧ mini. &linoan ✧ minesweeper. &arthur ✧ getting electric. &scáthach ✧ in a rain of fate’s arrows. &deirdre ✧ phantasia. &elincia ✧ polaroid love. &saias ✧ authority +1. &linoan ✧ sword +1. &ophelia ethereal ball shopping. &petra + inbox!

for da dash ...

march 2021: passed

total skill points: 4+2 (6)

RIDING improved! E → D  accessed the class pegasus knight!