saionofvalflame

[saionofvalflame]

❀ stained blood

The sun has set by the time he finishes with his Reason essay and moves on to the last item of homework: his Authority assignment. As he works, the light of the few candles flickers and wavers around him, tossing shadows here and there on the walls and furniture. Some people might find the dim and unreliable lighting annoying, but Saias has worked in these conditions for most of his life, learning his letters and tactics by night after the work was done and the other orphans off to bed. The low light does mean, however, that after he wraps up with his final piece of homework, he has to get up and walk all the way over to the better-lit washroom to clean off the ink stains from his hands and wrists.

(He’d almost always been a messy writer, and growing into the noble status he obtained upon entering the academy—coming in to the birthright he held within his veins—hasn’t done much to fix that, it seems. Good thing he uses inks that are easy enough to wash out, or his entire wardrobe would be sporting bad cuff stains right about now, to say nothing of his hands.)

The warmth of the water and the familiar routine soothes him, lulling his mind closer to sleep. It’s been a long day, and his candles had almost entirely burned down... he catches himself nodding off and jerks himself awake. He can sleep after he’s finished cleaning up, he reminds himself. It’s then that he blinks down at his right hand, which has been scrubbing at the same exact spot on his left wrist for several moments now. Oh, great Bragi, I really am tired, aren’t I. Shaking his head, the redhead huffs and rinses his hands, then frowns down at the smudge on his wrist in the same spot where he’d been repetitively washing. Saias sighs and gets the soap bar, rubbing it over the smudge and, when that doesn’t work, rubbing his thumb over it to get it to come off.

The smudge doesn’t budge.

Now more awake, the teen stares at the smudge in annoyed confusion. If his ink doesn’t stain like this, then what on earth did he get on his wrist and when? Is he going to have to ask a professor for help in removing it tomorrow? What if it’s a sign that someone cursed him while he wasn’t looking, unlikely as that may be since he would’ve felt it?

Gods, get a grip, you haven’t been this paranoid since you first came here. It’s just a smudge. Find a professor tomorrow and ask them for help instead of jumping to negative conclusions. Saias holds his wrist up to one of the lamps hung next to the mirror over the sink, in order to get a better look. The smudge doesn’t resolve, so he squints his eyes and brings his face closer—

It’s a sign of a curse, all right.

Bile churns in his stomach, clambering up his throat. He wants to cut off his hand and fling it away from him—except that won’t get rid of it at all, will it, not when it’s in his very blood, sewn into his entire being for the rest of his existence. It’s the emperor’s fault, for what other factor ties him to the only other bearer of the Mark of Loptous? Julius was lucky, in a way, that he didn’t grow up fearing the Mark and all that it stood for if that cult really was an integral part of his childhood. Saias hasn’t had that luxury, and now... now—!

He won’t go down to Abyss with his brother, he’s made too many good friends up here; however, he can’t hide the Mark forever, as the truth will always out despite a person’s best efforts. How will he be able to look the other Jugdrali who know and revere his future self in the eye when he is so thoroughly stained by the emblem of their ultimate foe? But going home is even less of an option—unless he goes home, back to the enclave, back to the people of Bragi, disciple of Maera, himself marked with Loptous’s filthy blood. Yes, that place may be the safest option for him until he can figure out what to do next (or more accurately, get a grip on himself and come to terms with his new... state).

He doesn’t want to leave though, not yet. It’s been a wonderful year and a half, and he has no intention of giving up his studies or his friends so soon. Not loyal and empathetic Chrom, not gentle and sensitive Shigure, and especially not his dear beloved stepmother. They don’t deserve to be left in the dark, and they would all be understanding towards him, comforting even...

—He can’t think. His heart races and his breath trembles. No, he’s in no state to do anything at all. He needs to go to bed and sleep and wake up and eat breakfast and then begin the process of putting his head back on straight, in exactly that order. He can do this, he did it after Mother died (but he was grieving the loss of a loved one, not the loss of his security in his identity, now, was he). He’ll have his friends and family to help him along the way. It doesn’t matter that he’s now Marked as Loptous’s. It doesn’t. He’s still the same old Saias Augustine Velthomer, son of Emperor Arvis and Aida, heir to Fjalar, stepson to Empress Deirdre, hardworking tactician, priest-in-training, student, friend, son, him. This can’t take that away or destroy it. It won’t. He won’t let it.

(Sleep does not come, and in the early morning he lingers at the gate, teetering on a precipice of decision.

He steps.)

[saionofvalflame]

A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE.

tagged by: asugi's post from forever ago XD tagging: everyone else REPOST,  DO NOT REBLOG,  with the information of your muse,  including headcanons.

NAME. saias augustine velthomer.

NICKNAME(S). sai (used mostly by his mom and stepmum).

ALIAS(ES). saias heilenstern.

AGE. 18.

SPECIES. human.

ZODIAC. aries.

GEMSTONE. aquamarine.

MORAL ALIGNMENT. neutral good with a side of lawful good.

ABILITIES / POWERS. fire powers (enhanced by his fjalar blood), white magic proficiency, and healing abilities. skilled at taking care of others and talented at curse-breaking. a natural and compassionate leader who also possesses a sharp and keen mind for tactics and will do whatever it takes to keep his friends and comrades alive.

INTERESTS.  flowers and flower-pressing, gardening, observing bugs, charm-making, reading (historical fiction and nonfiction).

FEARS. running across manfroy again and losing to him in a fight; losing his friends and family; inheriting his father’s loptous blood and becoming a pawn or target for the loptous cult.

GUILTY PLEASURES. a bit of an odd one, but indulging in good food and sweets more than he technically needs. saias grew up not having much in the way of food, so eating just one extra fish skewer or sweet bun makes him feel bad, especially if he believes that someone else might need it more than he does.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES. grannvalian (native language); fluent common.

PROFESSION. priest-in-training of the bragi order. for most of his life he grew up in the isolated enclave and as a result is very grateful to the priests and priestesses for taking him in. not only does he see becoming a priest as a way to give back to those who cared for him, he also views it as him giving forward to others who need any kind of aid.

BODY TYPE. mesomorph. with a slender build and slighter height, saias is very evidently a mage. he’s not skinny, per se, but he doesn’t have that much meat on his bones, although he is starting to build muscle definition and tone after a year and a half of plentiful good food and sword training.

HEIGHT. 5′6″ — he gets a more average height thanks to his father.

COLORS. lavender and light blue. he also likes white and light pink!

DRINKS. tea (floral, typical white or green), juice, water. to him, coffee is a luxury drink and he will absolutely take it with a ridiculous amount of cream and sugar as a treat reserved for special occasions. he’s not really sure what to make of hot chocolate.

ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES? not yet. so far he’s avoided those whenever there’s a noble function at the school (he considers himself too young anyway, so there’s also that).

SMOKES? nope. it’s not as much due to his preferences (although he really doesn’t like it, period) as it is the effect it might have on others. even if he did want to try it, he’d be constantly worried about whether he might accidentally make someone sick via secondhand smoke just because he’s used to being around sick kids and kids with more fragile immune systems or lungs.

[saionofvalflame]

wolfskintribedaughter​:

❀ who would win: the chuck norris of the insect world or one (1) hungry bupper

Velouria sits up a little, glancing at the bug that the boy holds. It doesn’t look that tasty, but she’s hungry that she almost doesn’t care anymore. Before she can even think, she’s grabbed it off of his arm and it’s in her mouth. It’s a little cruncy, but it seems to instantly soothe the hunger that’s been making her tummy rumble for almost her entire walk in the forest today.

She probably should have eaten breakfast before she had left the monastery, but she never was good at telling when she had to eat, since she always just ate whenever she wanted to.

“No idea, but that one didn’t taste that good. I bet grasshoppers taste a lot better!”

The woman sits up at his offer and—cronch.

Oh.

Saias chuckles despite himself; she really must’ve been hungry, to not even hesitate. He’s not about to try popping an insect into his mouth to see if it was tasty for her or not, but before he can ask, she answers his unspoken question for him. Well, that figures, it was probably too small for her to taste anyway... unless she has better taste buds than a human. It wouldn’t surprise him, and the redhead finds himself a little bit annoyed at himself for not indulging his curiosity towards his laguz classmates and professors before. If only he had gotten over worrying about offending them and actually asked, perhaps he could’ve learned more about what being a laguz is really like. Velouria seems like she wouldn’t be the type to mind, but he still holds himself back for fear of being rude.

In any case, it seems they’ve got some foraging to do. Getting up, Saias brushes himself off and grins at the wolfskin. “I know the perfect place where we can find all the edible plants and bugs you could have, and it’s not too far away from here.” Giggling, he holds out his hand to help her up.

“Shall we?”

{ fin }

[saionofvalflame]

wolfskintribedaughter​:

❀ who would win: the chuck norris of the insect world or one (1) hungry bupper

Velouria doesn’t normally poke around gardens, she’s not much of a flower girl unless they’re all pressed up and withered, but she got hungry wandering through the forest. She hadn’t expected anyone else to be around though, and her ears perk up at the sight of the redhead.

She sits down beside him, tail wagging a circle into the grass around her and distrubing some bugs, making them fly up in shock and flutter near her face. A small smirk spreads across her lips as her tummy starts to rumble even more.

“Mm… hello… I was just on a walk. I thought I might be able to find some edible plants around here though, since I was getting hungry. But I haven’t yet! And I’m really really hungry!” She flops back into the grass in her hungry anger, stirring up fragile blades into the air. When some falls into her mouth, she doesn’t stop it. She really is hungry after all. She needed to learn how to keep better track of her time, and maybe even bring a meal with her sometimes!

“Bugs? Yeah I guess I do… some of them are really tasty!”

“Hungry, huh?” Saias cocks his head to the side in thought. Though he prefers flowers, he could easily point Velouria in the direction of wild herbs nearby—there’s a clearing he tends to haunt whenever he needs to help restock the monastery’s vulneraries and elixirs. Then she says something about how some bugs can be really tasty and he perks up. He won’t claim to have experience in eating bugs (watching them and playing with them has been enough for him before), but...

Well. Medicinal and edible herbs aren’t always enough to satisfy hunger, he knows, and Velouria must be ravenous.

With a gentle pluck, he holds the beetle in his fingers and shifts so that when he extends his arm, the wolfskin can see the bug. It’s not a poisonous one, so he has no qualms about offering it to her. “What about this one? I know it’s on the small side though... and if I recall correctly, I’ve heard that people usually eat crickets whenever bugs do get brought up as a source of food—or was it locusts? Or grasshoppers?”

[saionofvalflame]

❀ who would win: the chuck norris of the insect world or one (1) hungry bupper

It’s probably expected of him, and something that everyone who has at least heard of him knows, but Saias loves flowers. His plot in the greenhouse constantly blooms with lovely things, each situated in such a way as to maximize the health of both the plants and the soil. Every one bestows a different meaning to his garden in the language of flora and reminds him of all the people he loves.

Something perhaps... not so expected of him, but hand-in-hand with his gardening tendencies, is that Saias also loves bugs.

Unlike the journals and stationery overflowing with dried blossoms, the redheaded Jugdrali’s room shows no signs of his affection for things creepy and crawly—then again, most people would find evidence of bugs either annoying or scary, neither of which Saias is interested in inflicting on his classmates. So he sits next to his other little patch that lies in the forest around the monastery and gazes at the butterflies flitting about the wildflowers. A particularly fuzzy bumblebee is brave enough to land on his nose, and the teen holds in his chuckle, crossing his eyes to watch the little critter. It flies off just as the sound of steps approaching reaches him, and he rubs his nose to get rid of the tickle left over from the little bee’s feet before glancing up. “Oh, hello, professor! What brings you out here today?” He hadn’t pegged Velouria for a flower-enjoyer, but maybe she’s looking for something else? From what he’s heard about her from Shigure, the canine woman prefers to collect items typically considered junk by most people; the pegasus knight had recalled gifting her a piece of hardened red acrylic paint, not unlike a misshapen gem, upon his return to the academy.

Huh. Maybe he and she are a little more alike than he first thought.

Something rustles at his feet, and Saias glances over to find a small, glittering beetle picking its way through the grass. He holds his hand out just so, allowing the bug to crawl up into his palm, and lifts his hand up to take a closer look at the shimmering carapace. “Do you like bugs, professor?”

@wolfskintribedaughter

[saionofvalflame]

serraic​:

   “An adjunct student?” What a stroke of luck, that she happened to choose him out of everyone else! ( Maybe the other students knew he was an assistant, but… that part she rather gleefully puts out of her mind, for the moment. ) “So you’ll be able to tutor me on this?” 

   Is it the spirit of the lesson? Well, only the teacher ( or perhaps Saias himself ) can really say. But Serra, anyway, is completely taken with the thought of being taught more privately. Surely it’ll be easier if someone’s devoting all their time and energy to her… surely she’ll learn at twice — no, three times! — the pace of everyone else, with this much dedicated focus!

   “And you even already know how to heal!” She’s quite loose with her praise, in her misplaced self-pride — at least it has a nice side-effect of being kind to a stranger. “This’ll be grand! Tell me, what do you think are the benefits of tome versus tomeless magic?” Diving right in, it seems. 

Saias chuckles at the pinkette’s enthusiasm. “Well, of a sort,” he allows; the point of his presence is to help and be a resource—he can’t exactly do the learning for his classmates, although he doesn’t know Serra well enough yet to determine whether she’s that kind of student. Hopefully not, in any case. “I can, at the very least, give you some pointers from my own personal experience that should help you have a simpler time of it.”

Her excitement at him being already able to use the Heal spell is sweet, if a little laughable considering how far he’s gotten in the curriculum... but perhaps, to a newer student unfamiliar with the intricacies of tomeless magic, such a thing is more impressive than it would be to a seasoned tomeless caster. (It was impressive to him, once, back when he was fresh on the continent and raring to learn.) Serra’s question makes the redhead smile and tilt his head in contemplation. “For starters, you don’t have to carry a tome around everywhere, so you can still cast if you’re in a situation where you need to use magic but don’t have access to a tangible focus. It’s especially effective on the battlefield: you can make room for other necessary supplies, and it ensures you’re always armed or capable of support no matter what. Not to mention, if your enemy’s disarmed you and thinks you’re now an easy kill, it makes for a bit of a nasty surprise,” he offers, a small smirk touching his lips at that last point. Ah, Bragi, how he loves the tactics that come with tomeless magic...! So many possibilities, all because one isn’t bound by a tome or staff...

[saionofvalflame]

delicatevalentine​:

❀ floor is lava: so you think you’re a saint edition | + hilda.

“No,” she admitted. “But prove me wrong.”

Hilda almost doesn’t believe that he’s going to do it. Surely, her power of persuasion is not so vast that the mention of the dare and some gentle goading was sufficient to have another student considering walking barefoot through an obstacle course of pain and suffering. And yet, with a deep breath and a battle cry, he forged forward towards the ice. 

As soon as his bare skin made contact, Hilda flinched on his behalf. No amount of extra credit or promise to improve her skill at anything would make her subject herself to this. Besides, these shoes were new, and definitely not flame-resistant. She stood watching his progress for a moment longer before the realisation dawned on her that her next class was in that direction, and there was no clear path across. Ugh, why hadn’t she dared him to carry her across? 

Well, it was too late now. Fortunately, there were still students emerging from the classroom behind her, and it didn’t take long for her to sweettalk a burly guy already in the process of taking off his shoes to let her hitch a ride. 

Her saviour soon caught up with Saias. “How are you doing?” she asked casually, resting her cheek in her hand, elbow perched on her steed’s head. 

The freezing-cold floor stings his feet, and Saias winces, trying to run while letting as little of his feet touch the icy tiles as possible. Pink hair swings into his periphery, indicative of Hilda following him. Except, as the redhead chances a glance next to him, the girl sits pretty on top of another student’s back, shoes firmly on her feet. He huffs and glares at her. That defeats the entire purpose of the exercise! You can’t have other people do it for you, just like you can’t have other people believe for you!

“I’m doing quite well for myself, thank you for askiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!” Saias yelps as he slides across a patch of slick ice. Try as he might, he can’t get his control back, and after a few moments of scrabbling for purchase, he finally slips and falls, landing hard on his leg. “Agh—! Ow...”

I guess this qualifies as a teachable moment too; I got cocky and took my eyes off of my goal, and as a result I lost my balance and fell. Funny how faith works the same way, isn’t it?

The chill seeping through his thin pants makes him shiver, but his leg hurts when he makes to stand and puts his weight on it. “Urgh, ouch!” I must’ve injured it as badly as it feels... fortunately, the Heal spell is a thing, and something I’ve mastered. With a targeted application of the healing magic, his leg feels good as new, and the teen clambers his way back up to standing. Okay, now: how to start running again without slipping and falling for a second time? Ack, I better think fast, my toes are getting numb!

[saionofvalflame]

❀ november | 2022

Status:

Passed!

Skill Points Gained:

Monthly Activity - +1

Skill Point Allocation:

+1 -> Authority -> D+

Threads Completed:

N/A

Classes Mastered:

N/A

Rank Rewards:

N/A

Event Prizes:

N/A

Total Skill Points: 25

[saionofvalflame]

aegisshieded​:

You are Grounded For T(ea)l College || Felix & Saias​

Had Felix been someone who made their emotions more visible, Saias would have seen a flood of relief cross over his scowling features. However, that was certainly not the case and as consequence, all that Felix conveyed to show said relief was a huff and a small movement to sit back in his chair with a minimal amount of lessened annoyance over the whole ordeal. 

“The flowery teas always make my head hurt,” he commented, tired eyes trained on the various cups and tools needed to brew delicate cups of tea. "They remind me of perfumes.“ 

As for the mini-lesson in flower symbolism, Felix could certainly do without but he wasn’t about to shut the guy up at the risk of having to make the tea himself instead of Saias doing so. Felix rolled his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. "Who the hell even makes up those meanings? And why use flowers instead of saying something directly? If you can’t even say what you mean and have to resort to using flowers, then maybe it isn’t worth being said." 

Despite his words, Felix would likely be the first person to resort to using flowers to convey particular sentiments, never one to actually verbalize his more soft emotions. He preferred to keep those buried under cement within his heart, anyways, so there was no point in knowing the meanings of flowers… 

"What about other colors for roses? Do all the roses mean the same thing?”

Ah, so it seems Felix is sensitive to those types of smells. Saias makes a mental note of it and tucks it away for future reference. I remember experiencing something similar when I first came here; I wasn’t used to perfume at all, and being around it all the time made my head hurt. I wonder if finding refuge in the greenhouse will help him as it did me...? Or is he opposed to floral scents entirely? Which would mean such a tactic is useless or harmful in that case.

The redhead chuckles at the other’s cynical dismissal of the use of flower language. “I beg to disagree. What if there is something you want to say, but words alone aren’t enough, or you’re too nervous or insecure to get the words out? Sometimes, expressing your feelings through actions, such as giving flowers, is not only easier but also gets your point across better, especially if the other person is versed in the meanings of the method you use.” He pauses in consideration. “As for who came up with the meanings... who knows? Perhaps they came about because of what people most often associate them with.”

To Saias’s surprise, Felix actually asks about the meanings for other rose colors. The teen finds himself wide-eyed, but recovers with a smile. “Well, that’s part of what’s so fascinating about flower language: each color has a different meaning! For example, a pink rose means sweetness, grace, happiness, or secret love, whereas an orange rose communicates fascination. I’m sure you’re familiar with the red rose and its association with love and beauty—on the other hand, a yellow rose is typically used for jealousy or infidelity, though in some places it can be used to ask for or reaffirm friendship.” Saias laughs as a thought occurs to him. “That’s partly why you have to choose every flower in a bouquet mindfully, otherwise you could communicate the complete wrong sentiment! Imagine giving someone flowers with the intention of asking for friendship and offending them because your flowers actually meant ‘I hate you!’”

[saionofvalflame]

nagaficat​:

Elysian Echoes

The journey to Velthomer is quiet. No villagers come out to wave as the imperial carriage passes by. Some of the villages they roll past are so silent, it is hard to believe they are inhabited at all. The homes are burned and broken but Deirdre convinces herself that their residents must simply be inside. Perhaps they are sitting down for a meal. It is almost that time, after all. Yes that must be it. A far more pleasant scenario than the alternative.

But it is quiet inside the carriage as well. Saias sits, contemplative, and Julius has his focus on the view out the window. Deirdre has tried to smile at the other man with them, their guard Colla, but he will not smile back. Not even in forced politeness.

Eventually, the silence is broken when the young emperor speaks. Deirdre smiles, always glad to be the recipient of her son’s attention. She had been elated when Julius invited her along for the journey. She did not need to beg to be included or resign herself to staying by herself in the capital. It fills her with pride to know that even with all of his power, her son still needs her and she is still able to provide for him. She hopes he knows she would do anything for him. He is all she has left.

“He did, many years ago. The flowers were all in bloom. Perhaps, when things have settled down, you might allow me to come back in the spring. It would be nice to see the area filled with life again.”

A dreamy haze glosses over her eyes as she remembers the last time she visited the dukedom. Deirdre has always been a dreamer but, as the years pass by, she finds herself seeking solace more and more often in her day dreams and memories. It had been a peaceful journey with just the two of them. Arvis had grown red in the face when she cooed over a painting of him as an infant with his mother and father.

“It is a terrible shame he cannot be here with us this time. He would have liked to have visited with both of you.”

@saionofvalflame

“Really...? I think I would have liked that. Then, we should make a trip of it, all of us together.”

The desolated scenery around them flashes by, but Saias cannot help but see the burned-out homes and scorched fields as the beginning of something new. As a fire in the forest makes way for new growth, so too will the people of Grannvale rebuild and come out stronger for it. The young priest has full confidence that it will happen, especially with his dear little brother at the helm of the country. It would be exciting to see how the nation recovers in the years to come; who knows, perhaps it may surpass even the most optimistic predictions! And Julius has proven that he’s capable of carrying out just what the country needs. Yes, they can rest easy knowing the new emperor has the best interests of Grannvale at heart.

Of course, as much as Saias has faith in him, he knows that it is physically impossible for one person to do everything, unless said person is a deity. That Julius would trust him so far as to request his aid in the rebuilding efforts speaks volumes to the older redhead. The priest is fully aware of the political implications of their biological relationship: had the truth of his birth come out, he might have been killed for the threat he poses to the position of emperor, or worse, put forward in a coup to overthrow the true heir. It must have taken a tremendous amount of convincing the council on Julius’s end (or maybe he used his divinely-given authority to make a ruling none of them could argue with), so Saias will not squander the mercy he has been offered.

Turning his head from the window to the other passengers in the carriage, the redheaded mage gives the younger a smile. “I must admit, I’m familiar with Belhalla, but I don’t recall ever visiting the castle at Velthomer. It will be my first time seeing it... thank you, dear brother, for allowing me this chance.” He must have said it so many times, but he can’t stop being grateful to Julius. He owes his life to the new emperor now, he knows it; still, he can’t help himself every now and then.

Saias pauses, then tilts his head. “This makes me wonder what the empire will look like in a few years... but I believe that soon it will prosper under your hand. We have Loptous to thank for guiding your hand every step of the way, dear brother.”

@disgracedvessel​

[saionofvalflame]

aegisshieded​:

You are Grounded For T(ea)l College || Felix & Saias

Reason and Faith band together to put on this month’s special seminar: the history of tasseomancy! You will be learning the “magic” behind divination and how the old masters used the remains of tea leaves and coffee grounds to predict future events. Just in time for the moon of love, you will all be divining your romantic futures from a delicious cup of white rose tea. [Grants Reason or Faith +1] 

This was such bullshit. 

Felix chewed the inside of his cheek between his molars as his frustration began to bubble up within him, his patience running rapidly thin as the professor droned on about the moon of love and tasseomancy and other divination-related smoke and mirrors. To Felix, it was all bullshit. 

But alas, he was required to attend a special seminar of the professor’s choice after being caught ditching class to go to the training grounds for the third time in a week. Now he was stuck in this classroom where the overwhelming aroma of white rose tea threatened to choke him with its floral stench. It felt as though he’d crashed right into a perfume stall at the market. 

Beside him was Saias, another Blue Lions student--though Felix had spent little to no time socializing with the fellow lion. To be fair, though, he spent little time talking to anyone, really. The only thing he really knew about Saias was that the guy was keen on this kind of stuff (at least, he hoped so. Technically, he only really knew the guy was good with healing magic, and this was somewhat adjacent). Once the professor ceased their ramblings about the lesson, the tea and all necessary items to brew and read its leaves were placed at each station. 

"You any good at making tea?" Felix asked, looking to Saias with bored amber eyes. He hoped the other would say ‘yes’ simply so that he wouldn’t have to deal with smelling the floral tea any more than absolutely necessary. 

@saionofvalflame​

The moon of love... divining futures through tea... the whole thing sounds rather romantic, really, and Saias can’t help but adore the whole class and setup. Thank Bragi this guest teacher was invited, otherwise he might never have found out about such a lovely use of magic! (Well, he would have eventually, but learning on one’s own and learning from a master are two entirely different things, and sometimes there is a satisfaction gained only when one is mentored directly and shown how to do what should be done.) Even better is the use of floral teas, such as the one they’re about to brew for today’s lesson, and the redhead wonders if each flower’s meaning affects or enhances a reading. Oh, he can’t wait to try this out, he’s so excited!

... His partner, another Blue Lion by the name of Felix, seems completely unenthused, by contrast. Saias respects the swordsman—aspires to reach his level one day, really—but if the taciturn Faerghan proves recalcitrant and unhelpful, well, they’re going to have an issue here. The redhead would rather not be at odds with this Housemate he barely knows, in any case.

Saias beams and nods at the other’s question. “Of course! I rather like making tea, it’s very relaxing, especially with floral blends such as this. Oh, it smells so delightful!” He sets about brewing the tea, going through the familiar motions (what lovely china they’ve been lent for this lesson!) as he puts forward his earlier thought. “Did you know that white roses have multiple meanings? They can stand for innocence and purity in love, but may also be use to send the message ‘I am worthy of you.’ I wonder how that will affect the readings?”

[saionofvalflame]

❀ october | 2022

Status:

Passed!

Skill Points Gained:

Monthly Activity - +0

Skill Point Allocation:

N/A

Threads Completed:

N/A

Classes Mastered:

N/A

Rank Rewards:

N/A

Event Prizes:

N/A

Total Skill Points: 24

[saionofvalflame]

[ DANCE ] While Midsommar traditions began in the Empire and spread gradually across Fódlan, each country has its own Midsommar song and dance around the fire. Follow your house’s traditions, or bring in a little something from home.

"Saias? Saias, is that you? My goodness! Look how much you've grown! I thought...I thought I might never see you again." Her smile bright and warm, she reaches for his hand. "Would you dance with me?"

A familiar voice calls out to him, and as Saias turns, he beams at the sight of none other than Deirdre approaching him. She looks radiant tonight, and he accepts her hand with a bashful giggle. "Why, thank you, Mum! I'm so glad you're here, to be honest... I hope you like my costume! For some reason I couldn't help but think of you as I was making it! Of course I'll dance with you—and don't worry about me stepping on your toes. I've been practicing all kinds of court dances my whole time here, and some other styles as well!" His heart feels full as he leads his stepmother out into the square with the other couple who are dancing. This is more than he could've hoped, for members of his family to be here and celebrate this holiday with him and his friends... what a warm memory this will make. He knows he'll treasure this for years to come.

"Ready? If you're struggling, don't worry: I'll make sure you can keep up!"

[saionofvalflame]

reverenceofmacedon​:

A Trifling Turnip

✮――――

                    It was in the very gesture of seating himself atop the wooden bench, creeking beneath him and splintered at its edges, that the volition which provoked his decisions came under question, and so heavily did he deny the festivity’s merit that the deepest of scoffs rumbled deeper than the baritone of his chest. This was a child’s inclination―― to craft amidst the artisans as if it were their acme talent to guide them into a merchant’s life. A merchant’s life, he did not lead, nor did he feel so inclined to indulge in the lesser luxuries of a wandering schemer―― for did not merchants deceive with their prices the quality of their offered boons?

                   Dull-edged blade within his grasp and magenta-hued vegetable before him, Michalis speared blade into the cracking coat of the turnip, and he began his task. Much did this recall to him the days of yore, when, in his boyhood, he would dare to trek the vendors of the markets when festivities arose. Yet, in contradictory nature to the customs of Fodlan, Macedon carved no vegetables. Rather were the customs of Macedon in likeness to donning one’s winged steed in festive attire and decorating oneself to match. Only once had he partaken in such merriment―― even then, it was not of his own volition, but rather that of the encouragement of his mother. 

                   Nimble was the grace of art, and he possessed no eye for it―― crafts were the talents of Maria, and even Minerva excelled more proficiently in the art than he himself…if only by little did she exceed him. 

                   Blade met turnip, and he sheaved the first error into the vegetable: a gaping entrance far too wide and harrowing to the visage of the vegetable that it would bid him well only to begin again. This, he knew was the first ripple in the waters of agitation, but a second chance did he offer himself, for this was merely a festive pleasantry: it was no battle or war, and thus did he incline himself to such simplistic things; life guided by war was no life at all. 

Starter for @saionofvalflame

Having been in Fódlan for over a year, Saias has grown accustomed to the sheer amount of holidays and festivals that the foreign country celebrates, to his delight. He remembers the fun he had last year, the liveliness and joy the festivities brought, and the memories made as sweet as the candies that were prevalent. This year is no less different: he stands decked in another outfit—an angel again, but one of the harvest this time as befitting the season. Turnip and knife in hand, he seats himself beside another redhead, a noble-looking man with a regal air about him, and sets to carving.

Only, such a task is much harder than he first thought.

The image he has in mind is that of a turnip carved into the shape of a blossoming rose, a symbol of growth and love that suits the festival. In his opinion, the purple hue of the root vegetable complements his idea very nicely. However, “… This is not at all how I thought this was going to look like.”

He’s already done the first few petals, but maneuvering the knife to carve the turnip is more difficult than he expected. The preliminary result is a few large holes in the turnip that approximate half-moon shapes—nothing that can be called a flower unless you tilt your head and squint. And forsake any sense of art. Saias sighs and grimaces at the mangled turnip; this is nowhere near award-winning, which is what he much rather would prefer. The teen glances over at his unofficial companion in the hopes that the man is faring better, only to find him in a similar position.

“Er… I don’t suppose you’d like some help?” Bold words for someone up the same creek, but to be honest, he can’t think of anything else to say. Although… Perhaps if I continue, mine will look much better? It might start off looking a little bit strange, but maybe that’s just because it’s not finished yet! Yes, maybe I need to continue and finish this, then it will appear much more palatable!

[saionofvalflame]

Midsommar 2022 : Prompts and Memes Part 2

In for a treat, or just getting tricked?

[ COSTUME ] Forgot your demon costume? Vendors have set up stalls in town offering all sorts of accessories to get customers in the Midsommar spirit. Pointed wax teeth are subtle but expensive, but you don’t need a heavy purse to rent out a glittering cape or a fancy hat. With the damage fines this high, you better be careful not to get them dirty!

[ FORTUNE ] An old witch sits in the shadows of the alley, claiming that she can speak to the dead. She beckons all who pass by to visit her.

[ PERFORMANCE ] This is a festival for street performers! Everywhere you go in Garreg Mach, you’re bound to find some sort of show - from puppet theater to firebreathing and tests of strength and skill. Stop to marvel at Fódlan’s talent, or maybe try showing off your own!

[ SCARE ] Many of the children that run past you are dressed in strange costumes, pretending to be all sorts of characters. Witches, animals, scarecrows… even some of your classmates are showing off sharp false teeth and glittering capes. Costumes like these are part of the festival spirit this time of year!

[ SECRET ] While the festival is supposed to be family-friendly, and indeed more children than usual run through the streets, you catch wind of a tavern in some forgotten alley of the town where one can go for some “adult” entertainment. Like wine tasting. Just wine tasting. (don’t tell the clergy).

[ CARVING ] With the spring harvest comes an abundance of turnips. So many that merchants have brought them to Garreg Mach by the bushel to sell them for Midsommar. Once believed to ward demons and other monsters away if one carved a face into them, the turnip carving tradition is now little more than a fun activity for children to do with their parents.

Food stalls crowd the town square, visitors hawking sweet and savory snacks…

[ PIES ] Spiced meat pies or delicate strawberry pies? Pick one and dig in at this bustling pie stall! The owners have a special challenge, if you choose to accept: any brave soul that can scarf down twenty of these delicious pies will receive a very special prize! 

[ JELLYBEAN ] One particular stall catches your eye: piles of little bean-shaped gummies shine in the lantern’s light, all too colorful to ignore. Clover honey, strawberry, peaches… With so many choices, you can’t help but take your time looking over the vendor’s selection. Strangely, he nods and gives you a knowing look. “Ah, I see. We have the same… interests, do we?” From below the table, the vendor pulls out a heavy wooden box, opening it to reveal an array of jellybeans. While they are as colorful and delectable as the ones on the table, their labels are more than a little troubling. Sweaty socks? Essence of skunk? “Excellent for tricks… though you didn’t get these from me.”

The return of the Magic Club’s special haunted corridors!

[ SHOW OFF ] You, of course, are a brave soul, keen of eye, and have some people to impress. Friends? Crushes? Rivals? You scoff at the mere idea that someone could scare you with some cheap parlor trick and roam about the hallways with crossed arms and plenty of skepticism.

[ SCREAM ] All your friends are gone–dead, probably, when you remember their terrified screams as they thrashed against the firm grip of a bloody butcher with a rabbit mask. You also remember the way the cleaver glinted in the cold light. Your feet pound against the tile as you flee from your pursuer, the butcher’s twin with a chicken’s face and an even bigger knife. You trip, fall, get back up again. You trip, fall–why the hell are you falling so much? A “corpse” springs to life in front of your path, but a solid punch sends them reeling. You don’t look back. All you can do is scream, and run.

[saionofvalflame]

boundlesshart​:

rainmaker

…Saias doesn’t inspire much confidence with his self-deprecation. Pointing that out would just worsen whatever’s going on with him, though, and so Claude bites his tongue and thinks through their options again. Back home, flying through tough weather was something trained young, and yet never a choice to make likely. Especially with the rain as it is, and the brewing thunderstorm, it���s safest to fly with many pairs of eyes. But if the wyvern was experienced… if this was Tomyris…

“Are you up for it, girl?” Claude reaches up to scratch the base of Roxane’s antlers, running his fingers up smooth, new horn to hardened, worn tines. She’s younger than Tomyris, and they’ve only worked together for as long as Claude has been in Fódlan. But it wouldn’t be fair to compare the two. Roxane is her own wyvern. Tomyris would have rightfully balked at the prospect of flying in this weather—most wyverns would, should arguably. But Roxane lives to work, to cooperate with him, in a way that he’s never seen out of any Almyran wyvern. When Claude pulls himself into the saddle, she grunts and trembles with familiar excitement, eager to take to the skies as always. Roxane would push through for him. Even if she shouldn’t.

Claude looks over at his companions. Saias seems to lack confidence, while Sigyn seems full of it. “Overprotective, huh?” he repeats with a small smile. “If she’s trying to convince you out of flying in this terrible weather, that’s a smart bird. I hardly blame her.

“Listen,” “don’t worry about keeping up with me either. Sometimes it’s better to stay on the ground and wait for better skies.” Claude cringes inwardly—he swears he just sounded like Nader just now, and he knows better than anyone else what that man would really think about what they were considering. Ironically, Nader would be pulling his sandal off now if he saw what Claude is doing. But he’s not here. And there’s people that need this water. He’s willing to take the risk. 

Turning Roxane towards the mouth of the cave, he continues, “Tell you what, I can make a decent light with Fortify that should cut through the fog and rain. So when I come back for you, or you decide to try to catch up–which, by the way, you shouldn’t–you’ll know exactly where I am. Sound fair?”

“Oh!” He hadn’t thought of that before, and he feels a little silly for not doing so, but now that he thinks about it, Claude’s plan is actually pretty sound considering the circumstances. The Deer will act as a beacon for him to follow through the storm, which makes his chances far better than if he were to go out there by himself without something to guide him. Not to mention, if either of them get blown off course, the likelihood that they’ll end up together in the same direction is higher. Saias nods and ducks Sigyn’s beak, swinging himself up onto the bird. The kinshi gives an unhappy squawk, but she seems to understand when she’s been overruled and settles herself for flight with little more than an irritated warble.

Finally. Getting himself situated, Saias wraps his cloak as tight as he can around himself and grips the reins. “Let’s go. The sooner we get back, the sooner we can leave this storm behind, get warm, and hand the water over.”

[saionofvalflame]

Midsommar 2022 : Prompts and Memes Part 1

The sun begins its evening descent, bathing the sky in hues of pale yellow and gold. After a long day of collecting firewood and arranging the burning piles, your hard work is finally rewarded with the sight of a festival truly coming together. Merchants set up their wares and prepare their treats, filling the air with fragrant smoke and the warm scent of fried sweets.

Priests strike matches over each of your wood piles. Fires burns brightly. ‘tis the beginning of Midsommar!

The bonfires are burning….

[ ROAST ] Food over the fires, from meats to marshmallows. Each house has their own representative bonfire, and each fire has a large pot with their representative soup. Add something to it or try out what your classmates have been cooking.

[ EAGLES SOUP ] Black Eagles: Thick goulash, hearty, enough to feed a thousand soldiers. “Thousand Soldiers’ Soup” made with dried ingredients and reconstituted on the roads

[ LIONS SOUP ] Blue Lions: White fish, leeks, potatoes, heavy cream, keeps you nice and warm.

[ DEER SOUP ] Golden Deer: Broad beans, spiced sausages, seasonal vegetables, red hot with paprika imported from Dagda.

[ DANCE ] While Midsommar traditions began in the Empire and spread gradually across Fódlan, each country has its own Midsommar song and dance around the fire. Follow your house’s traditions, or bring in a little something from home.

[ BURN ] Burn different plants as offerings to the Goddess. Herbs and powders are sold by local vendors to change the scent and color of the smoke.

[ LEAP ] All around the hills outside of town, the people of Fódlan light bonfires to scare away evil spirits. Leaping over them is said to bring good luck, and many challenge each other to see who can jump the highest. Young couples link hands and try to jump together, hoping for prosperity in the year to come.

[ TELL ] Share stories around the fire. Lately, children have made a game out of whispering a story into their friend’s ear, who has to retell the story to the best of their ability to their friend, and so on. When the story finally reaches the end of the “convoy,” it’s often a completely new story.

[ TASTE ] Away from the noise of the festivities, the Chefs of the Round Table (the cooking club) has set up a mostly-private bonfire to test out some of their new creations. Their latest masterpiece? Something called a “marsh mallow,” a recipe from the Sreng region sweetened with vanilla and sugar. It’s supposedly delicious when toasted over a fire…

The Garland Moon begins…

[ CROWN ] Make a flower crown, or bestow one upon another.

[ GARLAND ] The Garland Moon is upon Fódlan, and garlands are being strung up all around Garreg Mach. Among the shop stalls selling handmade trinkets and knickknacks are florists with the last of the spring flowers, already woven and made into garlands and corsages. This may be your last chance to confess to your special someone before the season changes!

[ PAIR UP ] Single people get dressed up and paired off with other single people, this is the season of love and baby animals and the older adults won’t tolerate a humbug Singleton. If you already have a special someone, then dive right into the singing and dancing together!

[ SHOP ] The festivities draw merchants from all across the world to sell their wares, but beware: the crowds are ripe for pickpockets, and unscrupulous potion sellers take advantage of anyone who looks confused and gullible.

[ MUSIC ] There is no shortage of music or food. Join in with hymns around the cathedral, find the bards singing old folktales by the river, or try to swipe as many free samples as you can in the market.