onwards.

nagaficat​:

“It is quite a simple process, do not worry! You will want to choose flowers with long stems and then just braid them together, adding more blossoms as you go along.” Deirdre reaches for a handful of flowers to demonstrate. Bright pinks to show off the lovely green of her classmate’s hair. “If you continue, it is even possible to create a garland or use less and make a simple bracelet.”

She remembers now being scolded for making such a garland. She could not have been much younger than Flayn but her caretakers warned her that there would be no flowers left in their forest if she kept picking them so much. The garland did look lovely hanging in their tiny cottage and it filled the entire home with such a sweet fragrance!

She watches Deirdre’s display with enthusiasm etched on her face, making sure she absorbs as much of it as she can. The color she has chosen is vibrant as the flowers start to weave themselves together into a crown fit for royalty! At least, in her opinion. Flayn may never wear a real crown, but that hardly matters to her. The true test of time is holding onto genuine gifts made by her friends.

amitieos​:

Elincia carefully removes her hand from atop Flayn’s and insteand covers the metal hinges of her restraints. Quietly, she hopes her use of dark magic does not alarm the priest. It was a skill she herself had stumbled upon by mistake and realised how dangerous it could be. Elincia had sworn to herself that she would master this power rather than let it rule over her - and it had proven very useful for dissolving metal in dire situations before. She worked slowly and cautiously, inch by inch so as to not accidentally catch Flayn’s wrists in the bubbling Miasma.

A few minutes later, a click is heard as the handcuffs pop open. 

“How do you feel?” Elincia asks her companion, fists already clenched at her sides. Amiti is not by her side - something she’s actually grateful for. If she had lost the royal treasure, Elincia isn’t sure she’d ever be able to face her uncle again. The Crimean queen knows she is lacking in magical prowess compared to many of her friends - Micaiah, Soren, Pelleas. She has plenty of room to grow but thankfully, years of healing her loved ones has translated into at least some proficiency in magic and spellcasting. As a priest herself, Flayn is probably even more confident than she herself is. They will likely have to fight their way out but as long as they keep their heads clear and communicate, routing a group of bandits shouldn’t prove too difficult. “I think that will work but… I doubt they’ll be happy about it. We might have to fight our way out of this.”

“I’m ready whenever you are - we simply need to stun them for long enough to make our get away. Take all the time you need to prepare, we’re both capable young women,” Elincia manages a faint smile, hoping it’s at least a touch encouraging. She does not doubt Flayn’s prowess but her own. Now is not the time for hesitation though. “We can and will do this. You can rely on me, I promise.”

She watches in silence as Elincia’s Miasma spell swirls through their restraints- The sound of release reaches her ears and Flayn relaxes her previously tensed position. Even though they still have yet to completely remove themselves of the situation, to be able to wiggle her legs is a relief in itself. “I am quite alright. Thank you for freeing us,” she says with hints of joy amidst her tone.

Flayn doesn’t know if she will ever be fully prepared, but she realizes that waiting too long will be pushing back the inevitable. She yearns to see the good in people, and yet, she knows there are those who harbor nothing but malice within their hearts. The thought pains her, but she knows the captors of herself and Elincia could not be reasoned with. Even if she smiles, even if she talks lightly.. None of that will matter. No amount of hoping will change that.

Scooting herself forward, she believes in Elincia’s words. Without her spell just now, she fears she might have been trapped for much longer. She is a reliable friend. Although Flayn prefers to heal, she readies herself for the use of offensive magic. “Dismaying as this is, I..” A tiny pause. “I am grateful to be by your side.”

Using her friend’s words as an anchor, Flayn clears her throat and calls out to their captors. She can’t recall the last time she spoke this loudly. “Stop at once!” Short and simple words, but she needn’t say more. Their ride comes to a halt as she feels the glares of others turning in their direction.

nagaficat​:

“I think a flower crown would be lovely!” Deirdre stands as well and reaches to take Flayn’s hands in her own. It is wonderful to see her classmate so happy! “I cannot imagine them taking issue with us changing the assignment just a bit. And if they do, well, I shall have words with them!”

Deirdre finds it hard to imagine herself having words with the administration but she would do it if necessary. A flower crown seems so much more meaningful than a bouquet anyway.

“I know that I have not been asked to, but I would like to make one for you as well. You would look beautiful crowned in flowers. Would that be alright?”

Deirdre’s words and gestures are so kind and welcoming- Flayn can’t help and feel like she was lucky to make a friend this way. She could always talk to her brother about the alteration if need be, but she saw no reason this wouldn’t be allowed!

“I would be delighted! I am honored you wish to make me one, too.” Deirdre has no obligation to reciprocate, but Flayn finds herself even happier than she was before.

disgracedvessel​:

H.E.A.R.T starter for @lilyfonded

The monastery is bustling - students and faculty alike on a hunt to keep their grades and their pay. On one hand, it has been many years since Julius last enjoyed the lively thrum of a thriving marketplace, or the leisure of a party unworried by the threat of war. While the assignment tasked to the students of the Officers Academy is hardly as extravagant, noble, or noteworthy as the events the former prince of Grannvale is used to, there is still something intoxicating about the energy. Contagious, even. He peruses the street with an unhurried step and, for once, does not feel the usual pressure to make his presence known - the deep-rooted fear of disappearing into oblivion instead replaced by a cautious eye on those he recognizes from his homeland. Specifically, he hopes to hide from his parents, but not at the expense of the day’s excitement.

He stops when he notices a gathering in the courtyard, students - with some faculty - mingling around a long table spread with various glasses and bottles. Some are in quiet conversation among groups of two or three, others are not so quiet or composed, and as the wind shifts, Julius catches the tangy scent of grapes from a newly-spilled glass. Curiosity draws him in, but what he can tell from the back of the gathering is only that there is - or had been - a demonstration of sorts. He turns to a student at his side, a girl with hair in pale green ringlets, and eyes the glass she holds.

“Might I ask how you got that?” He points to it. “I wasn’t aware that there would be any sort of drink tasting event this afternoon.”

It was never particularly uncommon to find Flayn where people had gathered. She finds herself enjoying the tasks so much that she cannot help and let the enthusiasm glisten upon her face- It is truly a shame the day must end at some point. Even still, she hopes the energy of making new acquaintanceships never halts.

Somehow, she finds herself near a table filled with more drinks than she could ever imagine. What truly intrigues her is listening to the facts of their origins than anything else. As the speech comes to an end, she is handed a glass amongst others. She brings it to her eye-level out of curiosity. If she squints, she can even see her reflection.

In fact, perhaps she was too absorbed in her own thoughts. With her attention grabbed, she looks away from the glass and smiles: “Oh! But of course! A rather kind person handed this to me after displaying some remarkable skills.” She holds it tightly with both hands, if only to prevent the utter fear that would be having it drop onto the ground.

elegiac-boar​:

The prince did his best to remain careful, not rowing too hard and not too light either- just the right amount to get the boat moving at a nice pace and that Flayn could follow without much effort. It was a bit strange, mainly because the boat, even though it was fully stable, still rocked gently from time to time which made him wonder if it would flip. Thankfully, it didn’t. 

“Ah, fishing in Faerghus is a little more hectic than calming, most of the time. The scramble at the end of autumn to secure last bouts of food to survive winter turns it into a rather chaotic experience.” He remembers seeing fishermen with huge nets, throwing them at key parts of the lake only for them to come out filled with struggling fish moments after. He felt a bit bad for the fish, but on the other hand he was happy since it was enough food for many families to stay afloat.  “One day perhaps, I could show you how fishing is done in Faerghus!”

Dimitri followed her gaze until he spotted the disturbance in the water surface. It had been too quick for him to make out what could be behind it, most likely a fish of a frog, but it was exciting news regardless. “Of course! I suppose it could be a frog or a turtle. Now allow me to just…” Careful now, Dimitri. Careful-

And with a single move, the boat sailed at worryingly fast speed towards the spot they were eyeing moments ago- stopping mere centimeters from it. Dimitri sat in place slightly surprised, feeling awkward. “Uhm…oops…well, do you see it?” Just pretend you didn’t make the boat race through literal meters in one go, just pretend nothing happened.

@lilyfonded​

From the way Dimitri described fishing in Faerghus, she couldn’t help and have her curiosity piqued. Flayn’s eyes sparkled with joy at the thought, nodding her head enthusiastically at the idea. It might prove difficult for her to venture there (would, rather), but she hoped to get there one way or another.

Before she had a chance to speak any further, the boat was moving at an incredible speed Flayn had never experienced before. Through all of her fishing journeys in the past, she can’t say she had ever been on one this quick before. She’d admit it caught her a bit off-guard, letting her own oar lay near her boots as she held onto the seat she sat upon.

Still, she found the ride rather thrilling! It was impressive how rapidly they arrived. Flayn giggled, moving her gaze from Dimitri back to the clear waters: “It seems I did not need to row at all! That was incredible! Thank you for taking us here.”

nagaficat​:

It is hard to imagine Flayn much younger than she is now but Deirdre supposes that, before a certain age, everyone tries to make themselves appear more grown up. She smiles but doesn’t make a comment. She would hate to embarrass poor Flayn!

“Oh yes!” Her eyes light up to continue their talk about flowers. It is a subject she is quite passionate about. “Chrysanthemums are used to represent a lasting friendship. I find that to be quite beautiful. It is wonderful having people in my life to give flowers to now. Whether they be bouquets or dried and pressed–they always brighten up someone’s mood. Perhaps we might gather some together?”

She must remember chrysanthemums and their meaning- Although Flayn is quick to befriend others, she knows there is a difference between simple words and truly enacting a lasting friendship. It is fortunate she was given the task of bouquet making, in that regard. “Yes! There are so many wonderful flowers.. I cannot help and find myself captivated by them.” She lets out a giggle, readying herself for her own little endeavor.

elegiac-boar​:

As soon as she was safely settled in the boat, Dimitri allowed himself to step in and sit before her. “Haha, it is strange indeed even more considering how Faerghus depends so much on fishing to survive. My uncle never liked the idea of me rowing a boat, and I never came across a situation where that was necessary either.” Rufus never really specified, at max saying ‘I don’t wanna see you flip that thing and getting some weird illness’.

Dimitri held the oar curiously, at first gripping it like a lance but eventually mirroring his hold to Flayn’s. “Our joined efforts shall control the boat’s direction and speed, correct? I think we can do this nicely.” He had seen fishers rowing their boats before- but they were alone operating both oars.

“Uh…okay, let us go.” The prince performed an experimental row, trying to be as careful and gentle as possible. The result was…quite decent actually, and the boat started to glide across the water surface. “Oh!” It worked!

“This is not so bad at all!” It was fun, even!

@lilyfonded​

Keeping in pace with Dimitri, Flayn used her own strength to steer them along as much as she could. She rather enjoyed the steadiness their boat was moving- It gave her ample time to look around and see if she might be able to spot anything interesting.

She was happy to know Dimitri was enjoying it- To her, that’s the most important aspect. It made her wish she had brought along some fishing gear, but that wouldn’t stop her from admiring any fish she might spot along the way. Offering words of praise, she said, “I would never have guessed you are new to this! Perhaps this is selfish of me, but.. I would be intrigued to see what fishing is like in Faerghus. You must try it sometime!” A pause. “Oh, but only if a situation does arise for that.”

nagaficat​:

Deirdre stretches with a yawn before smiling fondly at Flayn. The sun is bright and warm and the relaxing atmosphere of their lakeside picnic makes her sleepy in the best way. She cannot imagine a better way to spend an afternoon. “While I am sad that we have not been able to properly spend time together before, I am quite pleased that we have been granted this opportunity now! It is a lovely idea for the monastery to provide activities like this for us. We cannot spend all our time studying and training!”

Flayn asks about flowers and Deirdre is happy to speak on the subject. She runs a hand over the colorful blooms next to her. “I have always been quite fond of flowers. There are two that have been particularly special to me. Red camelias remind me of my dear Lord Arvis. And forget me nots…” Deirdre blushes slightly. She should not speak of Lord Sigurd here. “I just think they are cute. And you, Flayn? Did you know each flower has a special meaning?”

Flayn cannot agree more- When she first enrolled, she never would have thought she’d be sitting in such a scenic area surrounded by classmates and capable knights from the academy. As much as she enjoys practicing her magic, it is such a wasted opportunity if she were to never do anything else! She plants a hand atop the grass to her side, letting its warmth grace her fingertips. She wishes the weather could always be this nice.

Flayn is more than excited to be sitting by the lake, enjoying the company of a fellow classmate. It was her goal to know as many people as possible, even more-so for other Black Eagles! She feels she can learn a lot from Deirdre.

She sat opposite of Deirdre on a blanket with a lovely little basket residing right in the middle. The abundance of flowers accompanying the magnificent view of the crystal clear waters made her feel nostalgic. She wants to remember this view for centuries to come, too.

With her gaze shifting from the water back to her newfound friend, Flayn runs her fingers atop the petals of a purple flower with a sparkling smile: “I could not ask for a better companion to enjoy a picnic with! I always find events such as these are the best way to know someone better.”

She may not be the most knowledgeable person on flowers or have much experience with picnics (save for any makeshift ones with her father), but she can’t help and find it calming. Flayn speaks softly, scooting herself closer towards the flowers that captivated her attention: “Do you have a favorite flower? Or.. A favorite color, perhaps?”

elegiac-boar​:

H.E.A.R.T. task starter for @lilyfonded

Now, for the next one…was Flayn. Seteth’s little sister apprently, she was a member of the Black Eagles and as a result Dimitri didn’t get to know her that well. Still, she seemed like a kind and gentle girl. The task was for him to take her on a boat ride along the lake.

Except Dimitri had never gotten on a boat before. He had seen others doing it in the many lakes and shores of Faerghus, but never actually tried it himself. It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine.

It’s not like the boat would flip with them in it…right? Right. Be positive for once, Dimitri. The boat itself was nice and simple, perfect for two and was decorated with flowers for the Day of Devotion. A bit…too romantic-looking for the prince to feel fully comfortable, but he appreciated it. He’d make sure Flayn had a good time.

“Ah, hello Flayn. Good to see you.” He kept the boat stable, so that she could safely step inside. “I uh…admit that I have never tried this before, But I shall do my best!”

Even if participation wasn’t mandatory, Flayn simply couldn’t pass up an opportunity to speak with her peers and try new adventures she might not have otherwise. If there’s one thing she regrets, it’s the fact she hasn’t spoken to even more of her comrades yet! To be grouped with someone as important as Dimitri was a little intimidating, but she couldn’t help her excitement all the same.

She loves the water and sea- When she looks at it, she can’t help and smile. With careful steps, she makes her way onto the boat and immediately shifts towards the edge. “You have never done this before? Truly?” She tilted her head out of curiosity, shocked more than anything.

“I am certain you will do excellently!” She giggled, taking hold of an oar near her side as she said, “It is not so difficult. You simply use these to propel the boat. It is rather fun, if you ask me! I wonder what we will see!”

lockpicnic​:

She couldn’t help but laugh. Flayn was like no one else she’s ever met before. It wasn’t a bad thing— it just went to show her just how small her world back in Jugdral really was. She spoke as if she were a Lady of a grand castle, or some sort of great elder. What sort of world did Flayn live in? What was her background?

For someone she considered a friend, it was finally sinking in that Patty knew nothing about her.

“Aw, c’mon! I ain’t that good— ya should see Prince Seliph with a sword! Or— ah, Shannan….” Her cheeks grew warm at the memory of him wielding Balmung back at the shrine. The man was literally born to use the sword, and watching him fight was all the proof anyone would need.

“A second go? Hmm— sure! How can I say no when ya ask like that?” She points her umbrella at the other girl, smiling wide. “And let’s make it count! Whoever wins can get whatever they want from the other— and if I win, ya gotta tell me everythin’ ‘bout ya! Every lil detail— deal?”

She giggles at the offer, clutching her umbrella close to her chest in turn: “I will tell you all there is about me, in that case.” At least, as much as she can. It’s true that she has much to learn about her friend- Perhaps Flayn’s excitement at simply having a new friend got the better of her, but there is no better time than the present. 

She pauses for a moment before adding, “I think.. If I win, I would like the same! Could you tell me more stories about Prince Seliph? And Shannan? More than that, though- I, too, would like to hear more tales about Patty!”

Flayn is enthused at the thought of learning more about Patty and where she hails from- Her knowledge is limited to Fódlan alone. Even then, there’s much about her home she can’t claim to know. She can read all about the walls being built and the lives people led, but she can never see it in the present. That must change.

The bottom of her umbrella touches the surface of the puddle and Flayn leans one of her boots forward to accompany. When she looks down, she can faintly see her reflection- What a joyous memory that is.

duskroine​:

     Flayn’s praise only feeds to the overgrown force that is Ophelia’s pride. And the grin on her face brightens when Flayn adds onto her drama with a quick improvisation. The switch in her tone is a bit rough and the words sound a bit unbelievable coming from her of all people, but those factors are what make it even better!

     “And pay they shall!” Ophelia applauds Flayn’s efforts and her pride swells even more when she watches how her companion handles the Purelake Lypicrystal and the Starlittle twin with such carefulness. It’s almost endearing to see, really. “I’m quite pleased to witness how you… Flayn?” but she’s moving away from Ophelia now, with her gaze trained on something else.

     And she returns with a smile and two lances in hand. “Oh! Your intelligence is simply stunning, my dear comrade!” She exclaims, holding a hand near her mouth in awe. Since they weren’t very tall–at least enough to reach one of the lances above them–then this was possibly the next best solution.

     ( In fact, Flayn was so awesome, that she deserved an epic name! Something that matched her gentleness. The angelic aura she gave with every word spoken through her smile. Something like… Flayn of Dawn Wings? White-winged Flayn? No, that sounds like a species of pegasus or something. Flayn Dawn sound too alike and that would be cringey.

     Flayn, the Angel of the Monastery? The Winged Grace? Beauty? )

     “Allow me to launch the first weapon up high!” The journal falls back into the inner pocket of her cloak as Ophelia reaches out for one of the lances that Flayn holds. Unfortunately, it is neither a good choice nor is fate very keen on Ophelia being a star today. ( Well, that doesn’t matter because her father said that she’s always a star so– )

     She takes her stance and moves back a few spaces, raising the lance to face one of the nearest stuck-in-the-wall lances. With an exclamation and an almost too perfect target, Ophelia throws the lance upwards and watches with gradual surprise as the lance bounces off the wall–nowhere close to the stuck-in-the-wall lance’s position–and flies back at her. The shaft of the lance hits her against the top of her head and, again, bounces off almost comically. She yelps, hands flying up to soothe her head as the lance simply falls to the ground.

     “Goodness me, I’m… this…” A partially-defeated sigh and Ophelia gives Flayn a sheepish look. “Maybe fate has decided that you should go first instead of me, Flayn of Dawn Grace. I’ll just… step back a bit.”

@lilyfonded

Seldom was Flayn ever given such a nickname- Rather, this might be the second only one she has ever received since enrolling in the monastery! She can’t help and smile at the thought of proudly skipping through the monastery halls as Flayn of Dawn Grace. She may not know what it means completely, but it hardly matters to her. Any nickname Ophelia might have given her would make her just as ecstatic! Flayn wishes she was better at nicknames, but that’s a thought for another day.

She watches with glee at Ophelia’s throw attempt, eyes turning into a state of worry at the miss of her friend. “Are you alright, Ophelia? That looked rather painful..” With one lance in her hand, she brings the other close to her chest and takes a step towards Ophelia: “If you are in discomfort, do let me know. As much as I would like to free these lances, I believe you are much more important!”

Still, she knows she has to at least give it some sort of try. Flayn isn’t too confident in her throwing techniques- Rather, she hardly ever got the chance to hold a lance at all. She is much more used to magic than a physical weapon. In fact, she’s sure she’s not even gripping it properly. Nonetheless, it isn’t like that particularly matters!

With a nod of the head and enthusiasm larger than life, Flayn prepares herself to free that which does not belong on the wall. She shifts to hold it with both hands, stretching her arms out in front of her as she tosses the lance with everything in her power. The force is so much that Flayn can’t help and jump along with it to give the weapon extra momentum. Truthfully, she could hardly see where she was aiming. Her focus was more-so on making sure the lance didn’t bounce back on either herself or Ophelia.

When she gets the chance to look up, the lance she had tossed aims perfectly above and takes down a stuck lance with it. The two lances fall in-between where they both stand and Flayn lets out a sigh of relief. She has truly done it! Clasping her hands in front of her, she turns to Ophelia as if she had won the biggest prize in the world: “Did you see that? One of the lances is now out! It seems there are only two left.”

exemplaris​:

The exuberance in her eyes was worth it all, and Ferdinand returned her excitement with a brilliant smile of his own. There was something worthwhile to it, to see the light sparkle across her face as it should. They deserved nice things. After everything, They deserved laughter and elation, and Ferdinand would be damned before he let a game in a place meant for delight prey upon his fellow students instead. 

“Nonsense!” Ferdinand grinned, crumpling the definitely-a-ward-despite-what-the-attendant-said in his hand and nimbly vaulting himself over the booth’s counter to watch as Flayn selected her tools of choice. “What is right and just would had prevailed with or without my intervention!”

If his hypothesis had been correct, then it should help, even if the materials at hand were still shoddy at best. The arrow she had selected was the straightest, and the bow one with a string least frayed, and Ferdinand hoped for both of them that her shot was true…

He held his breath on her behalf as she drew back, raising the bow and arrow to eye level, and in a moment of concerted attention…

The arrow sailed through the air, striking the target with enough force for it to sway gently, back and forth and back and forth… It was hard not to cheer from the sidelines; the arrow had not struck dead-centre by any means, but Ferdinand would have to say it was a valiant effort! At least, certainly not one that the attendant could just brush off again…

“That was most impressive, Flayn!” In his delight, Ferdinand didn’t even catch the dry look of irritation that the booth attendant shot at him. (Ah well. It wasn’t his loss at all.) His attention had been wholly occupied by the round, stuffed green—since when were bears green?—bear that Flayn had extended to him, fuzzy paw first.

One could—no, should—indulge her for a moment, and Ferdinand solemnly shook that green paw. “I think our noble friend would do best under your care…”

(Not a particularly altruistic decision; Ferdinand couldn’t imagine even a stuffed animal being very happy sitting on his desk beside… miscellaneous pieces of armour and an every growing assortment of maintenance tools.)

“But I suppose I can propose a name…” Ferdinand hummed. The bear deserved a title. “Duchess Beryl… Of Garreg Mach.”

The attendant may not be particularly pleased, but it needn’t matter to Flayn. She was happy to walk away with a prize, let alone one so friendly and huggable. If she were the one to keep it, that meant she would have to take extra good care of the bear! Maybe it could sit atop her bed each morning, guarding it until she returned. Or, Duchess Beryl might be more intrigued by watching her study! Regardless, she never intended on letting it go. To disservice the bear would mean tossing aside these memories.

Memories that triumphed the sorrowful, painful ones before.

Her eyes lit up at the name suggestion, bringing the bear back to her chest and wrapping it with a warm embrace. “Duchess Beryl! Why, that is a perfect name. It is much better than anything I could come up with!” She looked down at the bear, words seeping softly as she said, “That is your name from here on out. I think it suits you nicely.”

When she looked at this bear, she would remember the fond memories of winning her newfound friend with Ferdinand. Perhaps it wasn’t an easy (or completely fair) endeavor, but the Flayn in the present moment did not care. Centuries from now, she wouldn’t think about such things. No, she would recall the smile on her face, the handshake from Ferdinand, and the happy feeling from simply playing a game with her classmate.

Flayn bowed politely, her expression sustaining itself on her face all the same: “Thank you, Ferdinand. Truly! If you ever wish to visit Duchess Beryl, you need not hesitate to ask!” She turned to face the rest of the festivities, hoping to catch a glimpse of it all before its inevitable conclusion. As she departed and waved goodbye to Ferdinand, she knew this happiness couldn’t last forever.

If only every day could be like this.

ashenprofessor​:

“Yes. Now I’m more responsible for people on the battlefield, it seemed a good idea to be able to protect them.” Byleth responded to Flayn’s question. This was the main driving force behind her current studies, the horror stories she’d heard from returning students following past missions had made her realise how dangerous some of the Monastery’s ‘teachings’ were.

“I would appreciate that a lot. I practise in my own time and some of my students have been helping me out. I wouldn’t say I’m a natural but I’m willing to learn.”  Not wanting to feel like she was getting lessons for free, Byleth thought about what she could offer in return. “Should you wish to branch out to learn more combat orientated skills, I can offer you help in return. Or if you want me to persuade Seteth to let you out a bit more … I can give it a go.”

Distracted suddenly by the tugging on her line, Byleth started reeling in the fish. It was a bit of a struggle and could have gotten away had anyone else been on the other end of the rod. However, the professor was a seasoned fisher, going with the flow till it was close to being caught.  “Could you grab a net please?” She requested, winding in the last bit of line. Just below the surface there was a rainbow like shimmer of scales as a shadow grew in size. “Reckon it’s a big one too” 

She believed anyone could learn faith magic if they so chose. Flayn knew it to be vital both on a battlefield and in an every day occurrence. Although she didn’t have much experience teaching it per-say, she knew her skills like the back of her hand. She was confident she could do a decent job if she tried.

She smiled at Byleth’s words, accepting the offer with glee: “Certainly! I do not need anything to compensate, but.. I would hardly say no if you were to persuade my brother of my responsibility!” She giggled as she spoke, but the words reigned true. She so very much yearned to leave the premise of the monastery more- If Byleth could speak to him, he would have to listen!

“Oh! Of course! Let us make haste!” Flayn knew she had to act quickly- The last thing she wanted was for the fish to swim away because of her! She lifted her own fishing rod out of the water, placing it to the side before standing up and grabbing the net. With it in hand, she stood back next to Byleth and leaned forward to get a closer look at the fish. It almost seemed iridescent, glistening amidst the blue waves of the water. She had seen plenty of fish in her days, but never had she witnessed one quite like this. She would never forget the sight, especially when someone as fantastic as Byleth was the one guiding it towards them.

amitieos​:

To say Flayn looks concerned would be an understatement. Her wide eyes speak of a terror faced before. Elincia is presuming but she reaches out her hand and places it atop the young lady’s in an effort to provide some reassurance. Her voice is low when she speaks, not wishing to draw too much attention from their abductors.

“I recall the same. I’m also okay, thank you.” She bows her head briefly before focussing on their situation. Their restraints could possibly be sundered with magic but it would help to listen to their captors. Flayn seems to be thinking somewhat similarly. “I have not seen them - I was unfortunately asleep too. Perhaps we can hear them if we’re quiet?”

She fumbles gently with her restraints. They are mostly rope although there are metal implements to deal with too. Miasma could melt them, Elincia thinks to herself as she quietly regards them. She does not have her sword and she doubts Amiti would be that much use in such close quarters. What if she cut the girl’s hands clean off? Seteth would never forgive her! The voices ahead of them are soft and clipped. She hears words like “merchandise” and “auction”. It appears their kidnappers aren’t yet aware of their status at least. They see them as easy money but not the kind of fortune a foreign queen and the daughter of the archbishop’s right hand would deserve. Otherwise they would surely be better guarded right now.

Their abductors think and expect little of them. That would certainly be their undoing.

“I think I could destroy our restraints without much noise, Flayn? Would you like me to? I promise to take the task slow and gentle.”

She finds Elincia’s words and touch upon her own hand soothing, nodding her head as she opts to listen along to see what they could hear. What words are obtainable to Flayn’s ears only makes her feel more uneasy. She nor Elincia are anything remotely like merchandise! Her hands feel frozen, disobeying any commands her mind might instinctually think of.

It’s likely that the moment anyone back under the tents notices them missing, it will presumably be reported-- Moreover, the authorities within the church are bound to hear of it. Reassuring as that might seem, it comes with a whole other cast of concerns for Flayn. Still, that isn’t a worry until after they’re freed. They don’t have time to wait around for the Knights of Seiros to find them.

Her green eyes turn back towards the chains that bound the two together. It’s impossible for her to physically do much about it-- She wishes she had taken more time to study offensive magic rather than placing most of her efforts on healing, if that would have even made a difference. “Yes. Please.. If you do not mind. Once we are freed, then.. I will help.” She’d hate for Elincia to do all the work and Flayn hopes to stand her own, if she can. Her words drift, taking in a deep breath in turn.

After a long day of classes, Flayn stretched her hands up towards the sky as she nonchalantly walked away from the Black Eagles classroom and towards the entrance of the academy. Even though she had no intention on stepping off property (right now), she rather enjoyed the view of all the people from below. It made her wonder what they were up to and where they were going.

With a skip in her step, Flayn’s strides came to a halt when she saw the sight of a tearful girl. Green eyes widened as she spoke as calmly as she could: “Are you alright?”

“M-My cat! He’s gone! Oh, it’s terrible.. Garreg Mach is so huge, and..” A pause and a pleading expression as she added, “Will you help me? I can reward you!” She shuffled through her pockets and presented a few pieces of candy, none of which Flayn had ever seen before.

There was no doubt in Flayn’s mind- She would hardly allow this to pass! An enthusiastic nod of the head ensued, taking a step closer and curling her hands into fists of readiness: “But of course! I can only imagine how sorrowful you must be feeling. So.. Allow us to help!”

Of course, the ‘us’ was a purposeful remark. Flayn couldn’t do this alone- The monastery was much too big for her to look alone. As she turned around, she didn’t need to look far to find her professor. Perhaps this was fate!

“Professor! There is a cat loose amidst the academy! We must find him!” Garreg Mach did have cats and dogs, but this one was different- Significant memories for her newfound friend, she imagined. “There is much ground to cover.. I believe we can find the cat faster if we were to work together. You will join me, will you not?” Her gaze was soft and innocent, looking upwards at her professor in eagerness. With a smile, she added, “We will be rewarded with tasty treats!”

thyrosus​:

“STRIKING A LADY? Resorting to such lows in your time of desperation, Pendrell—what cowardice.”

It is a diversion, pure and simple, as Lorenz is not prone to taunting in the midst of battle, especially not when the stakes remain so dire. The bravado he’d entered the fight with has worn away, replaced only with a ruthless determination to see Pendrell brought to heel. It is a task easier said than done when he will not engage, when he is getting smarter, even as his armor’s cracks become more and more apparent with every blow.

Something is curious about the weapon in his hands. Lorenz knows it well—the very same is strapped to his back, and he has forced himself to learn to wield it. Know thy enemy. Even if it rests heavy in his hands and the sound it makes is unnerving to his ears.

This one looks… older. Poorly-maintained, by a generous estimation, sparking erratically, close to coming undone like its wielder.

Something has shifted. Lorenz’s body moves of its own accord, either way, keen to divert as much attention away to Flayn as possible.

Pendrell is swift, but not swift enough.

Roll: 16!
 -2HP to Pendrell!



Lorenz makes one miscalculation. While Thoron’s bolt has not yet been wielded to the level of precision he prefers, it does not need to be, brilliant as it is. He aims for it to rain down upon Pendrell, aiming for his arms, hoping to disarm him entirely. It hits—all hairs at the back of his neck standing on end, the smell of magical heat filling Lorenz’s nostrils—but Pendrell keeps moving. Towards him, lance brandished.

Lorenz is swift, but not swift enough. Pendrell strikes, hits the meat of Lorenz’s thigh, using the close-quarters to his advantage in the ensuing blur of light.

A split-second turns the world to a sickening tilt, every muscle seizing and spots forming at the corners of his eyes.

Pendrell attacks!
 Roll: 16! 
-3HP to Lorenz!



Lorenz is now paralyzed for one turn!

Perhaps it’s the determination of her comrades instilling strength within her, or maybe it’s simply the grim reminder of battle’s woes. No matter the reason, Flayn knows what she must do in the present moment- She needs to step back and heal. Her attempts with Aura thus far have been mediocre, at best. It’s evident enough to her that she has yet to completely hone the skill. Regretful, but not completely upsetting.

Her words are soft and gentle as she approaches, letting the familiar light of faith magic leave her hands. The glow is encompassing and warm, much like it should be. If Saint Cethleann were here, Flayn is positive she would be pleased (as much as she can be, given the circumstances). Cethleann healed her allies with care and precision- She couldn’t afford to falter. As the legends say, her soul is (was, rather) a gentle one.

This is not completely akin to a centuries old battle, but the pain is nonetheless real. She works as quickly as she can, letting the familiarity of her spell leave her side as if she’s done it dozens of times before. Unlike any other magic, the faith she wields continues to connect with her.

“The least I can do is heal that which might hurt.” A pause, mustering a tiny smile as her healing prowess removes his injuries and restores to full health. She knows this fight is about to finish- If they can all prevail together, she believes her that is her duty. She will step back and let this conclude. Finally.