#extenebris

MISSION TASK BOARD: While three cousins are pushing for the seat, most of the focus is on Celine and Drayden. Eren has been struggling to get traction and gather allies to support their cause, and so no one truly has paid much attention to their campaign. That is, of course, until the Church catches wind of Eren dabbling in some kind of dark magic beyond what is recognized in Fódlan. With the Agarthans still at large, there’s no question that you should check out what’s going on.

          celine, drayden, and eren of house marika.  the only names, alongside judith von daphnel  —   the sender of garreg mach’s urgent letter, that rhajat cares to memorize.  others are left in the air of the partly tight carriage.  the other companion of this moving cabin beside her, both sitting in front of the lady-knight running them through the mission’s notes, is a man she hasn’t seen during her short time here.  but from what the mission had required, he’s a golden deer student.

          rhajat hums in acknowledgement, rubbing the amulet in her hand as the lady-knight smiles,   “   although the issue being faced seems troubling, i have faith that it will be handled correctly.  i can trust this task upon you two, correct?   ”

          she grins, nothing alike the gentleness of the lady-knight’s own smile,   “   of course, heehee, leave this to us!  muhaha, this will be amusing...   ”   the last statement, along with her unease-inducing giggle is muffled beneath her mutter.  paid no mind to from the lady-knight.

          the carriage has already come to a stop, but the lady-knight, whom rhajat now suspects to be their guardian for the entirety of this case, doesn’t step out.  instead, she continues,   “   when we exit the carriage, you two will follow me to the domain of house marika. for now, your jobs are to gather information on eren’s current whereabouts and past schedules; anything of the sorts that will lead us to a possible solution.   ”

          the door to the carriage is pulled open and she lets out a small laugh,   “   by the way, you may address me as knight midan!  now, please take this moment to introduce yourselves to each other.  i’ll check on our planning board.   ”   and with that, she slips out of the carriage and the door is shut, once more.

          whether or not the order was supposed to cause a sense of familiarity between the two, rhajat says nothing and stops rubbing the amulet, its dullness now taken by a faint glimmer.  by magic’s blessing, of course.  she holds the amulet out for the man to take,   “   she’s been yapping for over an hour and there have been no reports on this documented.   ”   rhajat does not look at him as she speaks.   “   activating the charm will repeat back the mission notes.  and yes, i’ll need it back afterward, or else payment for me to make another will be your tongue.   ”

          not that the amulet’s power would last long anyway.  repeating long conversations were harder to set into a charm than codes or passwords.  he’d probably be done with it before the mission ended.  eh, not her problem.

          rhajat throws him a side glance before speaking again,   “   i fail to see how identities are important here, but so be it.  i am rhajat, diviner and summoner of the dark arts.   ”   easy, simple, and done with.  finally.  she leans back and folds her arms over her chest, crossing her legs and getting awfully comfortable in the short amount of time they’ve been given inside the carriage.  there are questions in her throat, dancing to a gleeful song titled her voice.  but after her name, she doesn’t say anything else.

Barely had the prince settled in before he stands on a battlefield between houses, grander than any in classroom session or extracurricular sparring session. The amount of spectators and audience members alike are plenty, though Zephiel does notice the lack of either his mother or his father. Not even Murdock had been sent to observe the event, even if only to be able to write a progress report shortly afterwards.

This battle, though it was a grand tradition for Fódlan, served as nothing more than a placement test for Zephiel then. How did his skills fare against people from other realms? How much did he have to learn still?

His opponent is polite but does not search for valor in this effort if that apology is anything to go by. The spell the older man casts is unfamiliar; it would be best to not take it lightly then.

Though the shot barely grazes Zephiel, the prince swift enough to dodge the full force of said attack, it stings the patch of skin and cloth it has touched far more than he had anticipated -- even for one like him who has spent many a day training his resistance against the training ice magic a young but talented girl had flung against him.

[ armor boon modifier: -05HP lost, 3.5/4 HP remaining ]

Zephiel's eyes take on a lively spirit in response, a genuine grin across his lips. "I look forward to battling a strong opponent." If this is the force of a man who apologizes to him, how much more power would this man put behind his spells if he hadn't held back at all?

He takes his Levin Sword then, the most apt blade he could handle in training for the much more glorious Eckesachs, and he swings it in the sky in a large flourish, calling upon its magic to rain down upon Salem to counter him.

   Febail looks first left, then his right, silent and with as many brain cells working in that moment as the amount of words he was saying. When his brain catches up to the moment, he at last replies:

“ What? Is it illegal to be in here? You the storehouse guard or something? ”

He saunters in, also perusing the storehouse’s inventory, detecting no actual threat or perhaps not really caring even if there was. But while his eyes roam the walls, he picks up the fallen rod for Salem and draws his gaze back to it.

“ A fishing rod? In this weather? ”  He looks back to the nearest wall to see it’s not the only one, and he spares no effort in hiding his vivid bafflement.  “ How many people fish in the mountains? ”

A beat as his stare turns blank before returning to its previous open display of disbelief.

        She nods in acknowledgement, having nothing worthy to add to the conversation—what attempts to be one at least. Her free hand reaches up to twirl a piece of hair as her gaze is cast aside. Neither made an effort to leave, but a sigh of relief is passed through her when it is he whom breaks the silence.

        “Yes, that would be lovely.” Now there was some substance of topic between them, the silence felt less uncomfortable. Rinea could at least fill it by busying her hands.

maria’s hands are appropriately princess-like ones, to any readers of legends and fairy tales. they are soft and delicate, and surprisingly (or unsurprisingly?) small. what few features of note that adorn them are similarly minute: a thin line on the back of her hand left by a startled cat, and a single freckle on the inside of her pointer finger. her touch is gentle, often comforting, and has helped her many times in applying nonmagical treatments to weary soldiers and wailing children alike.

however, hers are not the hands of macedonian royalty; every now and then, she is suddenly and acutely aware of the difference between her hands and her siblings’ -- aware of how coarse theirs are, of how their suffering and sacrifices can be felt in the way they hold her hand, and of how her hands may be so delicate because of the callouses theirs bear... but such thoughts do not dampen her spirits. if anything, they ignite them, for she knows the differences in their paths. the paths they walk are towards a future they must fight for; the path she walks is one that will bring them home.

Byleth exited the area where she had faced her last opponent and began crossing the field in the search of a new foe. She had barely taken more than a few paces when she felt the ground beneath her feet tremble.

“Ah!” A surprised yelp escaped her as inky blackness wells up out of the ground underneath her, wrapping round her ankles. She landed on the ground with a CRASH!.

Huffing, Byleth rose to her feet. Her eyes narrowed as they searched for the unseen attacker. She spotted a brief movement along the tree line to the west of her. Bingo

Charging forwards with sword unsheathed, she ran at her target hoping to strike.

HEADCANONS  ✴ —— accepting!

LUCINA AND LAUGHING.

For all of Lucina’s intelligence, ‘Lucina has a rather [dry sense of humor, and is the least likely to get a joke out of all the Shepherds] ‘. 

While in hindsight this is...funny? It’s honestly understandable. In Garreg Mach, Lucina is hiding a lot of things. For one, the Exalt / Holy King’s diadem and Falchion whose power has been...nulled due to the conditions of the setting of our story. She will accept being called a Princess, as in the ‘past’ she is a Princess. In her present, she is an Exalt / Holy King like her Father, and such weight especially in a literally dying world, her kingdom slowly but surely falling apart if not for the survivors who came with her to guide the past Shepherds? 

It’s really understandable that she of all the future kids has the most burden and pressure riding on her shoulders. Every mistake is her fault in her mind, and imagine that tripling if not even further due to what happens. She’s their ruler, their friend, and their leader. She’s training and monitoring armies, allies, enemies and Risen. She’s watching flowers wilt and cities and villages thought impregnable fall by Grima’s claws and wings. His Grimleal. 

She has her own Mother, as mine is F!Robin, become possessed and kill her own Father, although who did it is a mystery to a girl who literally became king at an extremely early age. Meaning her short period of laughter and merriment did not last her long, if anything it died screaming. That she remains a blinding light and the embodiment of hope in her canon is...really something? But laughing? Yes, that is not something she can do so easily or rather I honestly think Lucina has been so conditioned by a storyline even by Fire Emblem standards is...unimaginably tragic and horrific if not for Lucina defying her own fate and still salvaging bits of her kingdom / halidom and guiding the original Shepherds? She chooses hope over her tragedy, which doesn’t make her simply a ‘tragic figure’. But still, it took away her laughter. It took away a lot of things. 

 She has a very dry sense of humor and is more likely to be sarcastic in the face of danger, something she’s admittedly far more unflappable than ANY person should be to cope. Sometimes her humor can be dry in the face of someone being overtly silly and ridiculous, and more likely with Cynthia, Inigo or Morgan, Owain by far is a given. She tends to laugh and joke and salvage what remains of that little princess who had to become king too fast and too young with children, as seen in her chapter of the Comic Anthology! She openly giggles and laughs with whoever you make her Mother, and giggles with friends as the supports deepen. In the hardest of decisions, as the Future Kids / Second Gen Shepherds leave, they all reunite making FUN of Lucina’s fashion sense.

They all start laughing until they burst into tears of both joy and pain at being together, at being alive, at still holding their Ylisse somehow alive in each other. Which implies it’s not only JUST Lucina who hasn’t been laughing for a long time, but they’ve been soldiers and the main and final bastion of their world for too, too long. Lucina only reinforces that as she guides Chrom and Robin with her intel about the future as its Exalt and how it can be defied and changed, how it must be defied and changed. 

I’d say Lucina openly laughs with only a few people, family, close friends, like Severa, who is arguably her best friend, Laurent, who always worries because she...is too selfless to her detriment. Although Kjelle is a contender! Owain for his oddities and her own, is a given as is Inigo! Frankly they all are her equally best friends because differences aside they are hers and she is theirs! She loves them like a Shepherd, a King, found family, and an unconditionally loving friend.

 But when she does, it’s a rare, pure, tinkling sound, kind of like wind chimes or bells ringing, something pure and untainted and kind and gentle! 

Because Lucina isn’t tainted not for plot armor, but by the sheer, immaculate strength she has as a person. That laughter probably sounds like both a protective embrace or even a dry chuckle. Either way, when she laughs it honestly depends on the situation? If she sees things repeat is it a bitter chuckle at feeling like a failure when she isn’t? Is it a happy laugh from her battered and bleeding heart at feeling what peace must have felt like before she forgot it? Is it the very hope and light she embodies when she’s genuinely, truly happy or pleased with something or touched? It really depends on the person, but Lucina never mockingly laughs at anyone. You may earn her distrust, you may not be her favorite person, and while she is insanely benevolent, she will never trample on someone else. 

She knows what it’s like to see beloved things trampled to begin with, more than anyone. So she’d never laugh. But she’s usually very cautious about jokes, knowing her seriousness can often take charge as both commander, ruler and embodiment of hope. It’s a hard thing to break when you’ve been that way most of your life, and it’s also part of your personality, while your Father, more down-to-earth and touchable, whereas Lucina has a regal distance to her, kind of like a star that vanishes? Is the one you’d go to if you wanted to joke around with him. She affectionately envies her Father for being far more lax and not care-free, but able to have moments of it. 

But yes, laughing is painful for Lucina when... you really haven’t been given any reason to laugh for years, and even more brutally, ever again. But because Lucina refuses to be a ‘tragic victim’ but a triumphant figure and leader? She ultimately will even if it’s rare, end up laughing. 

[[

~ Despite Dimitri’s usual distaste for delicate things, one of his favourite possessions is a small hairclip he received from his stepmother Patricia when he was still a young boy. 

It’s silver with a tiny lion design, engraved with even smaller sapphires. As a child, he’d often use it to keep his bangs away from his face when training in the castlegrounds. It’s old and tiny, yet holds a very dear place in Dimitri’s heart as it was one of the first gifts he received from his stepmother.