Inadequate.

Status: passed

Skill points gained: Unforeseen Circumstances (with Joshua) - dropped: 1 (Reason: D+ → C) Activity: 1 (Faith: D → D+)

Total: 2; 5 → 7

elegiac-boar​:

Starter for @zofiamagus

As unwell as he felt, when the task was handed out he felt a slither of energy lift him up only if just a slight bit.

Snow meant home, good childhood memories, chilly afternoons spent running around the courtyard clad in white as he chased one of his friends in a game of tag. While to many ice meant cold and death, to Dimitri it was comforting, warm even. And so he accepted the given task even if it would be anything but fun- but it would at least distract him from the flurry of awful thoughts that haven’t stopped coming ever since the Battle of Eagle and Lion’s end. 

You are a House Leader, you should inspire your classmates and raise their morale, not be holed up in your room acting gloomy all day. Compose yourself.

It was a shameful behavior he knew, but at the same time his feet just wouldn’t let him leave the quiet and recluse confines of his own quarters. Not that his room was a source of comfort in itself at the moment however, the pile of letters from the Kingdom sitting atop his desk glared at him every hour of the day- he has yet to find it in himself to open them.

Thanking his uncle’s fussing over his uniform for his boots’ soles that prevented him from easily slipping, Dimitri finally reached the section he was tasked with cleaning. One of the longer outer halls, one of the many ways to reach the nobles’ dormitory wing. It would remain mostly empty for most of the day as everyone is out for classes, training or studying, so the job would be at least peaceful- save for the sound of steps coming in his direction.

“Oh, Luthier. Good morning.” Because he hadn’t been tasked with cleaning this alone- rather it was shared with a mage of the Black Eagles house. “It is great to be finally working with you.” The prince straightened up his posture, seeming more presentable. He had done his best to brush his hair into an acceptable style and cover up everything he could with some foundation, but something in his mind constantly nagged him into trying to look and act ‘better’.

“Do you…need a shovel? I can get it for you- I mean, unless you plan on using fire magic instead.” It was an option- not for Dimitri. He had been presented with more than enough proof that his performance in both casting and handling magic was bottom of the barrel at best. “Well, do what you feel most comfortable with. I am sure we shall be done with this quickly.” He tried a smile- and he knew it probably looked drier than the frosted grass below. Come on, get it together Dimitri.

Luthier cannot deny that the sight of snow puts him in not the best of moods. Not that he dislikes winter, or the snow itself; when one is a Mage capable of Fire spells, low temperature tends to not be too much of a problem, what with the ability to warm up at any time. Besides, with his village situated not too far from the border with what used to be Rigel, he is more accustomed to chilly weather than many others would be.

It is simply... just that. Rigel. The thought of winter brings with it the thought of the former Empire - and all that transpired in it and because of it. It would seem that, in the end, he did in fact care about this bloody conflict as a whole, beyond the one part that involved him and his family.

But, not much else to do about that beside moving on with his life. He finds himself tasked with what should prove a good dose of morning exercise, as well as an opportunity to get to know the leader of the Blue Lions house.

“Good morning, Your Majesty. The pleasure is all mine,” the Mage responds, a light bow in greeting. One should never forget the proper formalities and titles. For the offer of a shovel, however, he shakes his head with a sheepish smile. “Ah, thank you, but physical labor is... not my forte, so I will be using magic instead. That said, please do let me know if I produce too much steam and you need me to stop. I can handle the shovel for a short period of time if necessary.”

After all, simply melting the snow will not be enough - leaving behind water when temperature is low enough is simply allowing his unfortunate classmates to break their legs on the ice that results.

With that in mind, Luthier gets to work, his Fire magic handling the task with ease; and yet, there is some odd weight he cannot help but feel on him, and the couple glances he casts in the prince’s direction as the fog and steam he summons dissipates, confirm that said weight seems to indeed lie with Dimitri - his tired posture, something akin to resignation in his eyes, and a smile that even someone as socially inept as the Zofian could tell was faked.

When did he actually get to the point where he notices and, more importantly, cares for such things? Perhaps he really has made some progress in that field... or perhaps, it is simply a matter of Dimitri reminding him somewhat of Alm, due to a similar title and position. (It is at this point Luthier reminds himself that this young man is close to his friend in age, as well. Younger than him, and no doubt under pressure...)

Whether it is his place to pry, he does not know, but he finds himself unable to help it.

luxichor​:

@zofiamagus​

     “Oh, Butterscotch… come out, come out, wherever you are…”

     Linoan calls softly as walks through the monastery grounds with a tearstained young girl at her side, one hand curled around the marble the child ‘paid’ her with, as the other encircles around the girl’s small hand. The duchess had been shopping out in the courtyard when a sobbing girl suddenly ran up to her, asking if she could help find a cat that ran onto academy grounds, and has since gotten lost.

     Never one to turn her back on someone in need—let alone a despairing child—the cleric immediately accepted, even if finding a cat in such a large place would be a rather tall order… to say nothing of all the strays already running around.

     Speaking of which. If there was any place cats liked to congregate, it was by food. Fish, to be exact. The first location Linoan thinks to check is the lake, though they find no one there but a fiery-haired young man, playing with the strays…

     “Excuse me, sir?” Linoan calls to him. She thinks she might have seen him around the grounds once or twice… he was at the very least a student, if his uniform was any indication. “Might we have a moment of your time? We were wondering if you’ve seen an orange tabby cat around these—”

     “Butterscotch!!!” The girl beside her suddenly exclaims, tugging on Linoan’s hand as she points towards the retreating form of a fluffy, orange cat. “He’s getting awaaay, Miss! We gotta catch him! You too, Mister Cat Guy! Let’s go!!!”

     Oh. Well. Nevermind, then. “Oh—um, y-yes, right! I—ah!” Linoan is cut off as the girl drags her away, nearly tripping over her own skirts as she looks back over her shoulder, sparing an apologetic smile for the man.

A beautiful, sunny day means that even Luthier finds it a little difficult to stay holed up in his room all day, absorbed in his studies and nothing else. But that is perfectly fine. He has a reason to leave his quarters either way. No, it is not because fresh air is good for health and might him help actually get to know people, or whatever it was that Delthea said, though he supposes the side effect is there.

Old habits die hard; just as it was back home, so too in Fódlan has Luthier found friends among cats before he ever spoke to people outside of formal occasions. The monastery’s sizable population of strays has provided him with fine company.

The lake at the monastery grounds is a popular gathering spot for the felines, what with the abundance of food in the area, and there the Mage sits, handing out treats and head scratches, when a young woman - a fellow student, it would seem - calls out to him (”Sir”? Does he truly look that old?) inquiring about an orange tabby; but before Luthier can point out how there are at least three such cats living in the area, the small girl by her side cries out a name, before running off. What in Mother Mila’s name is—

The pink-haired student who had just come and interrupted his day follows the little girl, and Luthier’s first thought is to simply leave them to their devices, but the small girl’s teary eyes remain burned into his mind, bringing forth the image of the little Delthea - the lengths to which he could go to return her smile and the joy he felt when it worked...

He cannot do it. Standing up, he offers the other cats a quick bow in apology. “I’m very sorry, my friends, but it looks we have an emergency. I promise to make it up for you next time!”

With that, he runs off to catch up with the girls. His physical form has improved in the last years - one of the few good things to come out of the war, he supposes. And it may prove to be an important boon... For Butterscotch, as they had called him, is headed straight for the monastery, and the gate is wide open.

“Oh, we are no doubt going to lose him in there!” He calls out to the girls.

kingofwhitedunes​:

“Gods below…” Joshua swore, looking over the battlefield with something between zeal and aggravation. “Someone’s been doing some hard work. It takes a lot of time to set all those traps.”

Unlike most of the students, who arrived together with the faculty and knights, Joshua had taken the trip to Gronder Field by himself. It was as good a chance as any for him to commit to all those things the church took exception to: gambling, debauchery, and the warm feelings he got inside when he killed highwaymen who thought they could challenge him. Mostly in that order. The sun beat down on him, but sweat refused to bead on his forehead—that lucky old sun would have to try harder.

In the middle of those thoughts, as Joshua was attempting to disarm a particularly cleverly-hidden tripwire, a pained cry rang out from a short distance away. The tripwire fizzled in Joshua’s hand at the noise, and a many-twigged tree branch swung up from the ground to smack him in the face. Swearing as the tendrils whipped him, the redhead fell backwards before moving a hand up to his face. He wasn’t bleeding—that was good news.

“Who’s out there?” Joshua asked, steeling himself before the pain could sink beyond skin-deep. “If you’re a student, let me know. Maybe I can help you.” He left the second part, about what he’d do if this mystery voice’s owner wasn’t a student, unsaid—even if he eschewed many of his royal manners, announcing ill intentions was poor form. Not to mention that if they were enrolled at the academy, and heard him say something along those lines, he might not be their classmate for much longer.

What.

Luthier has no clue what the weird set of noises not too far from his position is, but it does precious little to calm his nerves and frustration. Someone please let him get this day over and done with and he promises that next year he will actually try to care, but right now he is not having a good time.

But, at last, the noises stop and a voice reaches him. The demand sounds weird and, to be frank, mildly suspicious, but right now it does not matter - he needs out. “Wh— Yes, I am a student! Over here—” hang on, that probably is not helpful— “I feel into a hole! You’re likely near if you can hear me!”

Did they not say earlier that the Battle of the Eagle and Lion was an important and glorious event, and a great military conflict that forever changed the history of the continent, or something of that nature? Luthier would have expected something like that to have been achieved through more honorable tactics. This simply does not fit the impression he had, and the thought does not improve his mood. (Alm would have never.)

...

ylisseanstar​:

In the heat of battle, Robin has always been an inspiring sight to him with her deft wielding of both swords and magic, a talent that would make anyone envious of such skill. Chrom had long resigned himself to never reaching that same achievement, his skill in magic ostensibly nonexistent; he’d comforted himself with the fact that he could always learn other weapons like the bow and lance to round out his martial training. Even though positions like mage knight, dark flier, and troubadour were closed to him, he still had other options. And not everyone could be a mage: both of his sisters had magical prowess, so logically someone in the family had to receive all the missing non-magical inheritance—that someone being himself, of course.

Then came Garreg Mach… and the fateful Reason assessment.

Suddenly, a whole new world had been opened up to him, one he’d thought forever closed. Maybe it was the difference in Fódlani magic, or maybe it was the difference of perception in who could learn magic; whatever it was, the young Ylissean prince found himself with a gift he’d thought he could only ever dream of owning. His sheer ecstasy at this discovery fueled his studies in magic, to the point where he’d been prioritizing those over his studies in swordplay. While he can’t not be happy at his progress in Reason, it’s frankly a little embarrassing that he’s still stuck with just a steel sword. (He’s not too certain about the Swyrd he received after the Fhirdiad mission, either.) So off he goes today to the training grounds to make up for his lost practice, all the while musing on how to use magic and a blade most effectively in combat—a magic blade might even be the best of both worlds, like the Mad King’s Levin from the final battle in Plegia. Something to think about for his upcoming assessments.

It’s a surprise when the ginger mage approaches him, but the man immediately explains his reason in a straightforward manner that the bluenette finds refreshing. The teen smiles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Luthier. I’m Chrom Lowell, and I’ve been at the monastery for a couple months myself.” The question confuses him for a bit, but maybe the man comes from a place where magic and swordfighting aren’t normally used together. Chrom nods. “Of course! I was actually a swordsman back home, and it wasn’t until I came here that I found out I had magic as well. I’ve been really enjoying my studies here… I can’t help but wonder if they’re more accessible to me than the style of magic training back home,” he admits with a chuckle.

The magic-using swordsman responds well to the request for a conversation - a win in Luthier’s book, for sure. Oh, Delthea would be proud. The image of his sister is brief in his mind, however, as it quickly returns to the topic at hand.

“Accessible?” The word choice prompts the Mage to think deeper about the issue. “Hm, that is a good point. The magic of Valentia is only available to the chosen few who are born with the talent,” he nods. “Unless you were lucky, you may give up all hope immediately, for the voices of the spirits will never reach you.”

It is at this point that he realizes - his earlier inquiry has been left hanging in the air, neglected. “Ah, well. That first question of mine was likely odd to you, then...” Part of him instantly wants to move on to apologies for his ineptitude in the art of talking, but Chrom does not seem too bothered so far, so perhaps there is no need to derail. “I suppose I have seen one person simultaneously wielding sword and spell, but never once a man... N-Not that I would think it weird or impossible, it is merely the domain of priestesses first and foremost.” He pauses for a moment, bringing his hand to his chin in a thoughtful gesture.

“... For my part, I have simply never had any interest in sword-wielding, nor do I possess the physical strength required.” The thought that his 9 years younger sister does would likely be entertaining for some, but it does not surprise him - she has always been more active and better than him, of course she built up more muscle as a result. “And... I guess it does not cross the mind of many to give it a try,” he concludes with a deduction so simplistic it almost feels stupid. “So... that is why I was curious.”

zephyntus​:

it was still a surprise for arthur to see tine around the monastery at all, but in hindsight it was probably better that she was here instead of back home. he’d been apprehensive about leaving her alone in the first place, but with his sister here he could protect her just as he always had.

really, he had become so attached to her after everything that happened in their family.

after he leaves her for a bit to attend to his studies for the rest of the day, his attention is gotten soon after by a student he doesn’t recognize. “mm?” arthur raises an eyebrow, wondering what the man needed from him.

oh. just a conversation. well, its not like he had classes to attend to; not for an hour or two at least. he could sit around for a bit and talk.

“yeah. that was my sister, tine.” he nods to show that he had guessed correctly. “…we both lookout for each other, but she’s kind of the reason i’m here in the first place.” he looks at luthier, giving the man a once over. “what’s your name?” and, as a bit of an afterthought. “i’m arthur.”

Oh, right. If he is going to strike a conversation with someone he has not met before, it would probably be good to offer his name. The redhead bows, though he remains seated. “My name is Luthier. A recent arrival to the Academy. It is a pleasure.”

The man appears to be a fellow Mage, and so Luthier already hopes that they may speak again in the foreseeable future... but there is one thing more important in his life even than the pursuit of magic. What is the point of power if you have nothing left to protect, Alm asked Lord Berkut once, and that is a question Luthier, too, carries within his heart and allows to direct his path.

And Arthur’s words on the matter do pique his curiosity.

“If it’s not too much to ask, would you elaborate?” He inquires. “For my part... it is not as though we have a bad relationship, but I can almost hear Delthea in my mind responding to your words -” he modifies his voice, mimicking his sister in a sarcastic manner - “well, my brother is the reason why I am NOT here.” He lets out a sigh as he fluidly reverts to his own natural tone. “Perhaps I am overbearing, but I simply worry for her. She simply runs amok, caring nothing for the pursuit of her studies...”

prhyst​:

Rhys loved the monastery cats, and he stood watching a new student feed and pet one with a radiant smile on his face. It was so cute. He was glad to meet someone else cared for them too.

“Oh, it’s okay!” Rhys laughed softly, bashful at being bowed to. “They’re loving, once you get to know them. If Socksy, that white cat, likes you, that’s good enough for me.” Rhys was holding an armful of amber tabby cat himself. He nodded to the cat dozing in his arms. “This is Bee. I’m Rhys, and I teach faith here. I’m not very formal or anything- er, I mean I hope I’m polite, but you can relax. It’s nice to meet you too!”

He was rambling a bit, but it was from a cheery mood. Rhys hugged Bee and then gently set Bee in Luthier’s arms. The cat sat like a dead weight, only yawning as he transferred nap spots. “He’s very lazy, but quite friendly.”

Rhys scratched Bee behind his ears and he grinned. “Awww… I think he’s purring! He likes you! I saw you have some cat treats- me too! What are yours made from?” Rhys knelt slightly to be at eye level with Bee as he pet the cat, and looked back up at Luthier while he spoke.

The Professor offers his name, and Luthier responds with a courteous smile - one aimed at him just as much as at the tabby cat resting peacefully in his arms. He feels a sting of confusion as Rhys comes closer to him, and a soft gasp of surprise escapes him when the priest hands over Bee; thankfully his arms and shoulders know instinctively what to do.

“It is an honor, Bee,” the Mage says quietly and gently, as the cat merely yawns. However, just as the Professor comments on it, the Mage can feel it - the soft vibration of a purring cat; and he cannot help but allow his smile to widen at the sensation. Slowly and carefully, to avoid causing his new acquaintance any discomfort, he sits back down on the bench.

“Oh, the cat treats? I mostly have ones with fish,” he explains as he pulls out his satchel again. Bee’s nose twitches, and Luthier does not need to be told twice; he produces a piece of food and brings it right to the animal’s mouth, so that he barely needs to move to eat it. Having accepted the offering, he returns to his nap, not ceasing the purring for even a moment.

“Heh... Anyway, my homeland is surrounded from all sides by a sea rife with fish of all kinds, and inhabited by many a skilled fisherman. We have... recently struggled with some drought and famine and the land has not yet fully recovered, so crops and farming can be an issue. However, the fish never run out.”

goldoandragonprince​:

Kurthnaga stared at the target in front of him, even the training dolls here were a bit too human for his comfort, but he knew he had to work on this if he wanted to even think about starting to get over his fear of battle. Taking a deep breath to try and steady his shaking hand, he aimed a spell at it, missing as someone else walked in and reacted to the magic that came from his hands. He nearly fell over, startled by the young beorc’s sudden appearance. He stared the ginger as he explained himself, trying to figure out what this one’s deal was. Beorcs could be so confusing at times. 

“Hello young man… you’re welcome to join, but I am not sure how much I will be able to teach you.” He was still not completely confident in his abilities as a teacher, nor did he imagine that he had much to teach in regards to magic. He was still a new learner himself to the ways of how Fodlan magic worked compared to back in Tellius.

“I am still quite unfamiliar with the strange way that magic works here in Fodlan. Back in my homeland, it is much more common to see the use of wind and fire as a medium than something like black magic.” 

Ah, so a fresh teacher at the institution, it seems. Luthier stifles the sting of disappointment that comes over him at first - everyone starts at some point or another, even here. It is not the man’s fault.

“I see. It is no bother, perhaps we may learn something new together.” To share the new knowledge and experiences with others whose interests are aligned with him will be a novelty of its own, after all. Up until now, his only study buddies were Delthea - who was not exactly a willing study buddy, more often than not - and, well, Whiskers the cat, who did his best, but nevertheless their debates on the arcane arts were... rather one-sided.

The young-looking Professor elaborates, and Luthier’s mind returns instantly to the topic at hand. “Is that so... The magic system of Valentia, my homeland, differs from the Fodlanese ways as well.”

Extending his right arm, he forms a fireball that floats calmly above the palm of his hand. The orange-haired Mage watches it for a moment, as though mesmerized by something he had never done before.

“The magic arts I know take quite the toll on the user. A few spells are enough to exhaust many to the point of requiring medical aid. Having compared our ways to those of Archanea, I thought the fact we do not use conduits in the form of tomes was to blame,” he continues, half to Kurthnaga and half to himself at this point - before flicking his arm, sending the flame flying towards one of the training dummies, setting it ablaze without a care in the world, before finally looking back at the Professor again.

Status: passed

Skill points gained: Activity: 1 (Reason: D → D+)

Would petting a cute lil kitty ruin her evil image? ...No, surely not. Even villains have pet cats. This was totally badass and scary

Deathcedes approaches the little fluffball, catnip in one hand and shredded chicken in the other. Oh he's so precious in his little cape! Maybe they can match, and commit atrocities together! (Like swapping everyones cloaks around, mwehehehehe.)

"Pspspspspspsssss. Here kitty, kitty! I brought you a present. Just for you, yes. Ah, I do love you so much, my adorable little meow meow."

CATNIPCATNIPCATNIPCATNIPCATNIPCATNIPCATNIP

Wait, he should control himself. He is the great and powerful Mage, Catier! A great and powerful Mage does not fall for so simple a trick.

This person appears most interesting indeed, however. The mask? The aura? The aesthetic? Kind of on point, really.

Meow. Very well, he can agree to the proposed exchange. The offered catnip goes in his mouth, while his ears and the top of his head meet Deathcedes' open palm. Ooooh, nice.

"MEOW?! I am the great Zofian Mage Catier, how dare a human treat me like a base pet—"

Hm, this is actually kind of nice. Head rubs? EAR RUBS? Oh meow, alright, fine. He will consider that sufficient payment in exchange for the interruption and attention.

What would they say? Well of course, they better be amazed at the revelation! Of course he is still a student, but one day he shall be the greatest sorcerer there ever was, and the world will realize.

“That’s a cat,” said Soren, unaware it was Luthier sitting on top of a book. The Aegir hound was only a few months old but it’s barking carried. “You’ve seen cats before.”

The puppy strained and kept yipping. Soren sighed, motioning for Luthier to shoo so he could rescue the book.

How DARE this little tail-wagging miscreant interrupt his pleasant moment of relaxation? Catier looks on with a look of sheer contempt as the servant of the humans barks and yelps, thankfully kept at a distance by its owner.

Oh, Soren! "Meowe! Maaau meow meow maue mew meow?"

Hm, the Mage does not react in the invitation to fellow studies as expected. Sigh. When will humans finally learn cat language? This step of humanity's evolution is taking entirely too long.

Soren comes closer, seemingly attempting to shoo him from the book. Excuse him?! Catier got to it first! If Soren does not share, neither will he! Preposterous!

One paw wanders into the air, moving and waving to mirror the motion of the human hand. Then another, and he balances himself on his hind legs, ready for a slap fight if need be.

“Meow.”

As the new day starts, Luthier is nowhere to be found. Instead in his room sits a large orange cat, wearing an oddly familiar cape.

As your eyes meet, the cat yawns and stretches, hops on Lu’s desk, slaps open a book with one of his paws and appears to begin reading, as though nothing is out of the ordinary...

stolen from: here, thanks Cece!

tagging: you. What do you mean you haven’t done this yet

NAME. Luthier Corvinus.

BODY.

height: 177cm / 5′9″

strength ★★☆☆☆     * not as bad as some other Mages, but carrying books around is his only exercise these days.

dexterity ★★★☆☆     * the wars and his travels improved him in this regard.

health ★★☆☆☆     * he tries. Sometimes.

energy ★★★★☆

beauty ★★★★☆     * smooth face and distinct hair have drawn attention.

style ★★★★☆

hygiene ★★★★★

SKILLS.

perception ★★★★☆     * assuming we mean in general and not just perception of other people, otherwise goes down to 0.

communication ★☆☆☆☆     * that 1 is only there because of Alm and cats.

persuasion ★★☆☆☆

mediation ★☆☆☆☆     * social skills, what’s that.

literacy ★★★★★     * mostly magic, but there are also other areas he has knowledge in.

creativity ★★☆☆☆

cooking ★★★★☆     * hidden talent, developed due to taking care of Delthea.

tech savvy ★☆☆☆☆

combat ★★★★★     * had no choice.

survival ★★★☆☆     * give him an interesting tome and he’ll 100% forget to take care of himself.

stealth ★☆☆☆☆     * not with that hair and those clothes.

street smarts ★★☆☆☆

seduction ☆☆☆☆☆     * not aware of the concept at all.

luck ★★★☆☆

handling animals ★★★★★     * far better than with people.

pacifying children ★☆☆☆☆     * will try to give them an academic lecture and wonder why it’s not working.

MIND.

intelligence ★★★★★

happiness ★★★★☆     * can fluctuate sometimes.

spirituality ★★★★★     * communes with spirits at all times.

confidence ★★★☆☆     * pretends it’s better than it really is.

humor ★★★☆☆

anxiety ★★★☆☆     * “what if I’m doomed to forever be inadequate while Delthea just wastes her talents away”

patience ★★★★☆

passion ★★★★★     * for magic. 1 at best for most other things.

nice  ☆☆★☆☆  mean     * he... tries...

brave  ★☆☆☆☆  cowardly     * threw himself into a war to save his sister.

pacifist  ☆★☆☆☆  violent

thoughtful   ☆★☆☆☆   impulsive

agreeable   ★☆☆☆☆   contrary     * outside of Delthea, arguing is not much of a skill.

idealistic   ☆☆★☆☆   pragmatic

frugal   ★☆☆☆☆   big spender

extrovert   ☆☆☆☆★   introvert     * People just... are not something for him.

collected   ★☆☆☆☆   wild

ambitious / possessive / stubborn / jealous / decisive / perfectionist

SOCIAL.

charisma ★☆☆☆☆     * nope.

empathy ★★☆☆☆     * tries, but mostly nope.

generosity ★★★★☆

wealth ★★☆☆☆     * I’d say he and Delthea were not the poorest in their village, but still, it does not matter to him.

honest   ★☆☆☆☆   deceptive

leader   ☆☆☆☆★   follower

polite   ☆☆★☆☆   rude     * again... tries.

political   ☆☆☆★☆   indifferent     * of course it’s nicer to not have a war going on, but he followed Alm mostly out of gratitude for saving Delthea.

BELIEFS.

higher power ★★★★★     * does display devotion to Mother Mila.

fate/destiny ★★★☆☆     * some things are predestined.

magic  ★★★★★     * duh.

soulmates ★★☆☆☆

good and evil ★★★★☆

luck ★☆☆☆☆     * he will only get to where he wishes to be through his own work.

PRIORITIES.

family ★★★★★     * In truth, Delthea DOES mean more than magic to him.

friends ☆☆☆☆☆      * changes to 4-5 once he actually manages to make them.

love ☆☆☆☆☆     * aro/ace. His love is books and knowledge.

home ★★★★☆

health ★★★☆☆     * important, but not more important than the pursuit of magic.

praise ★★★☆☆

justice ★★★★☆

truth ★★★★★

power ★★★★☆

fame ★★★☆☆

wealth ☆☆☆☆☆