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3 yrs ago
starting off 2022 with COVID LESSGOOOOOOOOOOOOO
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6 yrs ago
Whoever says "the customer is always right" has not worked with atual customers.
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All these "m" names tho


Eleventh Bell, 22nd Day of the Great tree Moon

The day of classes began without any event, much to the relief of the students and staff at Garreg Mach. Many were happy to put the terrible rumors of disappearances behind them and instead focused on themselves, the desire to return to normalcy exceeding most other emotions. At the very least, the mood was lifted among the majority. Lysander was all too happy to watch the students go about their day, even if his morning was filled with more paperwork than he would have liked. The letters from concerned parents had been addressed and replied in haste as per Ioannis' instruction. The clergy was informed, the guards were more aware, and Lysander himself approached the day with cautious optimism.

So of course when he was approached by a guard, he wasn't entirely surprised.

He frowned as he was approached, though it turned to actual surprise when Sirius intercepted the guard. He watched Sirius dismiss the guard and braced himself. "I don't suppose you're approaching me for a chat," He said.

"I'll have to make time for such a thing; I suppose you're beginning to resent my presence," Sirius seemed to agree with Lysander's initial assumption, unraveling the scroll to read the letter. "It would seem that the town of Magdred has reports of several groups traveling through Magdred Way only to never return."

If he recalled correctly, Magdred Way was a densely forested area whose fog made the trek through rather dangerous. "Near the Oghma Mountains, correct?" He asked, thinking to himself. "I don't suppose any scouts have gone to look?"

"Our scouts have found nothing, which is precisely the problem," Sirius replied. "No people, no corpses...it is as if they have vanished."

Just like the missing student. Lysander remained quiet for a moment. "We should send Michail and his squad over," He suggested.

"I thought the same. However, the letter is accompanied by a plea for help from Magdred," Sirius added. "Because no one's gotten through, the town has found themselves low on supplies. They also petition us for aid at that point."

"I see," He said nothing more, looking back to where the guard had walked off. "...I don't suppose others have read this message, have they?"

"We would be the first and only to know. Why?"

Lysander turned back to face Sirius fully. "Because I believe it is time we confronted this problem head on. Michail has prepared them for battle and I plan to address their abilities today," He stated.

Sirius stared at him for a moment, albeit surprised. "I wasn't expecting this sort of recklessness from you," He admitted, dropping his voice considerably. "I know you and the Archbishop have confidence in this group, but this could backfire in more ways than one."

"I know. But despite the desire to shield them...this is also a prime opportunity to see what they're capable of," He sighed. "Of course, if you do truly protest, I will go by your suggestion instead."

A silence fell between the two men as they fell deaf to the world around them. Despite Lysander putting the decision in Sirius' hands, the two would only move forward if they both agreed. Sirius seemed to run every scenario through his head, weighing the pros and cons. Should anything happen, the Monastery would never again open its doors. And yet, he agreed that further shielding the students could undo the hard work Michail had put in to get them ready to fight.

"I will call a conference once the dismissal bell rings," Sirius finally spoke, breaking the silence. "The message asked for haste, but the supplies will take around a week to get ready."

A week wasn't nearly enough time, but Lysander nodded. "Very well, then. We move forward together."

Fourteenth Bell, 22nd Day of the Great tree Moon

The students were instructed to all gather at the Black Eagles' classroom once their regular classes were done. As there was no physical activity involved, it may have left them weary of yet another additional class for them. Once they all took their seats, however, Lysander would make sure that there would be no more mystery behind it. The doors closed behind them with Michail and Euphemia both standing at the entrance. The former was a little more pensive than usual, though attentive. Lysander stood next to the professor's desk on one side, with Tomai seated and grading papers.

"I thank you all for your time and patience," Lysander began, his voice warm and kind as always. "The Archbishop would have liked to be here for this, but alas, his duties find him elsewhere. I have also asked that Professor Simeon not attend this class, as her ability will likely hinder the progress made here. Should there be any injuries, however, one of the nurses is on standby in the Golden Deer Classroom."

He realized that may have caused some alarm, so he hastily continued. "As you are all aware, the use of the Units this year has separated the students into different groups. This one is no exception. However, this group was brought together specifically on the reason that each one of you possesses a Crest," He stated, walking over to the chalkboard. Carefully flipping it over, it revealed a design of the twenty crests--all but one were there. "It is time we spoke of them. Professor Malathice, if you would?"

Tomai finished writing something down before finally looking over at Lysander. "Oh. This, right," He said, revealing that he was likely not listening to anything Lysander had said, much to the other man's dismay.

However, once he stood up and took a hold of a pointer stick, Tomai decided to get right to it. "Blaiddyd. Charon. Daphnel. Dominic. Fraldarius. Gautier. Gloucester. Goneril. Lamine. Riegan. Maurice. Aubin. Chevalier. Noa. Timotheos. Cethleann. Cichol. Indech. Macuil. Seiros. And..." He pointed each one out as he said their name, albiet he walked over to the chalkboard and picked up a piece of chalk. His hand moved rapidly as he filled in the center with one large symbol.

"The Crest of Flames. With the exception of the last one, each Crest is a magical sigil passed down through lineages that our society has been built around. They're believed to be blessings bestowed by the Goddess, with the Crest of Flames itself being the symbol of the Goddess herself," He explained. "Aside from status, however, Crests also bestow special powers to those who hold them that vary from individual to individual. While history has told us that Crests have always bestowed minor abilities--such as increased strength or magic--it was not until approximately three hundred years ago that these powers manifested themselves."

Tomai spun the chalkboard back on the blank side, scribbling down three names. "1104, the year of Almyra's invasion of the Leicester Alliance. With the invasion came a sickness that doomed most that had it. Johanna Lyse Riegan single-handedly healed over a thousand people, including everyone in the capital. She not only saved most of the Riegan family but had a one hundred percent survival rate in everyone she healed. She bore the Major Crest of Riegan, its symbol flashing repeatedly as she used her abilities."

He tapped the second name on the list. "1217, the year of the Sreng invasion on Faerghus. King Aaron Blaiddyd lost his arm on the frontlines due to a surprise attack. And yet he persevered, his fighting abilities never faltering. His arm was examined and many nurses and doctors said he should have died on that battlefield, The amount of blood he lost should have doomed him, and yet not only did he prove victorious against death itself, but he also went on to father Henry Joseph Blaiddyd in Faerghus' Century of Peace. He bore the Minor Crest of Blaiddyd."

Tapping the last name, he turned back to the class. "1322, the year of the attempted Adrestian coup. Emperor Stefan Hresveig IV held off the three hundred traitors single-handedly while his queen and heir fled. He had the strength and speed of ten men, and together with his wyvern, lasted long enough for the insurgents to be put down. While he died, eye witness reports all stated that the Minor Crest of Seiros could be seen as he fought."

"These three are the earliest recordings of Crests giving their users abilities, both Minor and Major. Scholars have attempted to tie circumstances to these abilities awakening, but in 1399, Archbishop Apollo regularly displayed an unusually powerful ability to heal from a young age during a time of peace. There is no connection to stress or duress being the key to unlocking these abilities despite the earlier circumstances all occurring during times of war," He stated as he drew a line separating the names from the rest of the board. "While the origin of exactly when it began is unclear, these days Crests can reliably give their users abilities. With some practice, you can learn to control them."

After a few more scribbles, Tomai tapped the first one again. "As of present findings, there are three different 'types' that have been studied," He said. "The first is autonomous, or passive abilities. These occur regardless of the user's intent and have to be willed to stop. Even then, it is easier said than done. My own Minor Crest of Lamine is autonomous; I can detect the number of living creatures around me in a specific radius at all times. With some testing, I can expand that range, and further use it to track specific individuals."

Tapping the second, he continued, "The second is independent, or active abilities. As the name suggests, they must be activated in order to be used. They're opposite of the autonomous type, of course, but are no less impressive in their abilities. Professor Michail's Minor Crest is one, is it not?" He addressed the blond in the back of the class.

Michail straightened up a touch at being addressed, throwing on a grin. "Aww, you remembered!" He said, pretending to be touched. "He is right, though. I've got a Crest of Charon that lets me regenerate my wounds if I concentrate on it. It's great for stopping the bleeding, though I much prefer to get taken care of by a beautiful nurse--oompf!" His point was punctuated by Euphemia promptly whacking him upside the head.

"Thank you for that," Tomai replied dryly, tapping the third line. "The last type is ungoverned. This is rare even among the already-rare Crest users, but they have popped up once in a while. The Crest ability activates on its own without regard for the user. The few that have been recorded vary: sudden bursts of magic, dreams that tell the future, and one case where the user would go invisible."

"I'll take any questions anyone may have before I continue," He said.


Should we ask questions here or is DMing you on Discord okay



I'll read it when I finish my homework



While the gardens in the monastery were always impeccably taken care of, there was a different feel when it came to the one on the rooftop. For one, all but a select few were forbidden from ascending to the third level as it was where the Archbishop resided. For another, it doubled as a sanctuary for a few rare flowers that were too delicate to be placed in the Greenhouse. It also had an intricate waterfall system that added to the serenity of the area, as well as a view of the grounds below should one look. A few workers had brought out the table and a trio of chairs placed at the center. The cook in the cafeteria had sent up an assortment of baked goods and small treats that would go well with the bergamot tea that the Archbishop had requested.

Ioannis himself was all too happy to have his seat, leaning back and nibbling on a tiny pastry as he waited. Once a nun approached him and informed him that the students arrived, however, he hastily chewed and swallowed the treat fully. He adjusted his headpiece slightly as he felt a tassel tangle itself in his hair, smoothing everything out before sitting up.

The pair met with Sister Margaret, who was happy to lead them upstairs. The guards eyed the students for a brief moment before allowing them to ascend to the third floor with the nun. On entering the garden, she motioned for the two to continue onwards, giving them a bow before taking her leave.

Ioannis gave them a small wave. “Welcome!” He was considerably brighter than before as he motioned to the empty chairs. “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice.”

Clarissa all but shook with excitement. She’d not forgotten they’d agreed to take tea together at some point but she figured it’d have been scheduled far further into the year, especially considering the morning’s news. Perhaps the Archbishop too needed something relaxing to steal his mind away while the Knights set about the business of tightening their hold on the situation. Perhaps this was simply the only time he had available in his hectic schedule for the foreseeable future. Whatever the reason may be, Clarissa wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Oh, this is exciting! I suppose in the wake of the morning, this is just what we all need to keep our spirits up!” She spoke to Auberon as Sister Margaret escorted them upstairs. She needed the distraction otherwise impatience would have her stepping on the Sister’s heels as if it was her birthday and she was no more than a little girl. “I’m glad our House is taking everything well. I’m suspicious that there wasn’t more outcry about the recommended precautions but I suppose that they’ll chafe after a few days. How did the Lions handle the news?” Clarissa asked as they entered the rooftop garden.

Auberon followed their escort at a leisurely pace, more interested in the scenery than their destination at the moment. He’d never been up this high in the cathedral - he was pretty sure he wasn’t even allowed under normal circumstances. An animated Clarissa was similarly a new sight; not that he would describe her as aloof or cold normally, but she certainly was buzzing with something beyond her usual calm refinement. Not that he could really blame her.

“Indeed. It’s a welcome distraction,” The blond responded, though he paused before he chose to actually address her question about how his House handled the news. If he had to guess, he’d say ‘not well’, but that’s all it would’ve been: a guess. “Honestly, I wish I could tell you. Kellen is inscrutable as ever, Lienna stormed off, and Derec… didn’t really comment.”

Saints above, when he laid it all out, it felt even worse than he thought. He didn’t really know what any of them were thinking. Sure, Auberon had done his part and opened himself up for feedback later, but incentivizing them to actually take him up on the offer was another matter entirely. Kellen probably expected another lecture and Lienna… was Lienna.

With a frown now marring his otherwise impassive face, Auberon adjusted his cape uncomfortably. House Leader. Right. “Maybe you can help me with that. You seem to have the Deer pretty well in line and I can’t help but think I’m doing something wrong.”

Clarissa listened with no small degree of sympathy. After the Lion’s explosive disagreement during the critique segment of training the other day, Clarissa didn’t doubt Auberon’s hands were full. Her restless anticipation quieted as her energy was put to better use. “Comparing the Lions in any way to the Deer is certainly a futile exercise. The Deer has students who are naturally open, earnest, and looking for friends and connections. We thrive off a strong sense of community and so we’re naturally inclined to get along. We have those inclined to their own council, of course, but even then, we work alongside each other to take ourselves to greater heights. Jorah, despite the childishness that he clings to like a comfort blanket, is a natural at bringing people together so even if we did find a few rough patches, I’d have every confidence we’d surpass it quickly enough. Your Lions however…”

Clarissa trailed off as she took in the surroundings. The serene space was certainly fit for the Archbishop; she couldn’t imagine a better place to disappear to for a few moments of quiet respite. She took a deep breath, savoring the aroma of flowers that drifted through the garden, and returned the Archbishop’s smile with a grin of her own, offering him a curtsy before she accepted one of the seats. “Please Archbishop, the pleasure is all ours. You could have summoned us in the middle of the night and I have no doubt that Auberon would have been as eager as myself to answer your call.” Clarissa assured him eagerly. “Though, please forgive me for continuing a previous conversation but your wisdom might prove more valuable than mine in this matter, Archbishop.”

“As I was saying, the Lions are drastically different in manner and goal than the Deer. Your Lions seem like they're in survival mode, either teeth bared and posturing or tail between their legs and shrunken into their own shadows. I can’t say much about Derec or even Kellen but Lienna I’ve had the privilege of conversing with on more than one occasion. She’s in a place that doesn’t fit her, a person thrown into a place she never dreamed she’d be because it wasn’t ever possible. She doesn’t trust and what we believe is constructive criticism, she may well perceive as affirmation that she doesn’t belong and she didn’t get where is now by rolling over at anyone who blew a little steam her way. Your Lions are wrapped up in protecting themselves because they think they need to; they don’t see that their countrymen are there to support them.” Clarissa dove into the conversation whole heartedly, always ready to share her opinion. And if she’d been waiting for an opportunity to guide the dysfunctional group in a better direction, well… only the Goddess and Jorah would know. “I don’t think you're doing anything wrong, Auberon. You were given a difficult task but it’s one I have no doubt you’ll rise to. You just need to connect with them to find the common cause that they can all connect to.”

Ioannis couldn’t help but frown a little at the subject. It was difficult to address, to say the least, but it was his fault to begin with. The smallest of sighs escaped him as he shook his head. “No need to ask for forgiveness where it isn’t needed,” He assured Clarissa first. “As for the Lions...it’s a delicate situation. Emotions aren’t so easy to handle. However, I don’t believe that this is necessarily an obstacle. It is through hardship that people find themselves coming together.”

He turned the plate so that the majority of treats faced the two students. “I did hear from Professor Michail that there was some friction before. What steps have been taken to address this?” He asked. “I can try to give you feedback and see what we can do on harmonizing everyone.”

Once again, Auberon found Clarissa’s words succinct and to the point. Perhaps he had assigned too much civility to his housemates’ actions; that there was some higher thinking process behind their guarded nature and not simple animalistic fear. They really could stand to write a manual on interaction with the peasantry sometime.

The Archbishop’s question was far less welcome. Not that it seemed malicious or even detrimental to the situation, but that it left a sour reminder that nothing Auberon had done had been effective. He’d barely known what to try to begin with. The blond took his seat with a grateful bow of his head toward their host, then paused in quiet contemplation, his thoughts spinning through a recap of precisely everything he had done to end up in his position.

“I’m… not sure I even know what steps I should be taking,” Auberon admitted with a shameful dip of his head, “Trying to talk about it - or just about anything of import - gets everyone incensed. I assume it’s because they take it to be a lecture, and neither Kellen or Lienna are particularly open about their thoughts regardless.” Derec likewise seemed like a bad choice to collaborate with, given how spectacularly he’d offended Lienna with his commoner platitudes.

“Kellen might just need time - there’s a knight in there somewhere, I know it - but I’ll confess I’m utterly lost on how to handle Lienna.”

Ioannis’ mouth formed a small ‘o’ in understanding. “That does sound difficult. I had hoped the group would have some form of unity, but perhaps the events that have transpired so far have instead fractured,” He looked down at his lap for a moment. “...perhaps finding things in common would help? Hobbies, books, things of that nature, for example. I always find solace with those who like to read scriptures, but I understand that there are some that would rather spend their free time gardening, or sewing, or practicing musical instruments.”

Scratching his chin, he continued with, “I suppose such a thing must sound odd considering this place is equivalent to a military academy of sorts. But perhaps approaching from a personal level would help?”

Auberon narrowed his eyes. Like most avenues he’d considered, it was solid in theory but easier said than done. He didn’t think he’d seen either of them express interest in hobbies. Lienna sounded like she only did things out of necessity and Kellen hardly ever left his room. What did he even do in there? Read? Knit? He certainly didn’t seem up to join Auberon for a morning sparring session. Maybe he could at least talk him down to the cathedral on a day they didn’t have class.

The blond’s nose wrinkled up distastefully for a moment, though he quickly regained his composure, lest the Archbishop think he’d taken offense to his advice. “I don’t think we have very much in common. Kellen’s a bit of a homebody and Lienna apparently thinks the Goddess - Saint Seiros forgive me for even repeating it - hates her.” Hesitantly, he reached for a dessert bread from the offered tray and chewed on it in pensive silence.

The boy audibly gasped at Auberon’s last sentence, hand flying to his mouth. “Surely Lienna knows that isn’t true!” He said worriedly. “The Goddess would never hate anyone! As is told in the scriptures, ‘The people who belong to this world don’t recognize that we are the Goddess’s children because they don’t know Her, but as She calls us Her children, that is proof enough of Her love for us.’ I can’t possibly imagine what would possess her to think of such a thing.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Auberon agreed wearily.

Clarissa looked at the pair like they’d each grown a second head, truly bewildered at the absurdity of the conversation. Was learning about each other, developing trust and mutual respect out of a genuine and deep personal connection, such a foreign concept? Even if friendship was out of the question, at least understanding the motivations and passions that drove the people who fight alongside you on the battlefield would help you make better tactical decisions. And yet, they discussed it as a secondary goal as if it wasn’t as important as learning the calculations for a trebuchet or the positioning of infantry to break a charge.

She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. She respects both of them, of course; Auberon is unwavering in his faith and adamant in his course and Ioannis bears a burden far heavier than any boy his age should and he does it with an ease and grace Clarissa is envious of. But that doesn’t change the fact that Auberon’s determination made him inflexible and at the end of the day, Ioannis was just a boy.

Still, she found her temper flaring.

“Auberon, I know you aren’t one to jest in serious situations but I am hoping that the sudden urge for hilarity caught you at an inappropriate time because you cannot seriously tell me Lienna gave you the greatest gift of vulnerability since you’ve know her and all you did was tell her she was wrong.” Clarissa snapped. “She clearly hasn’t had the luxury of life that we’ve enjoyed until now. She could barely read when I first met her and she was only trying to figure out the dorming arrangements. She mimics our posturing and mannerisms with a desperation that is borderline hysterical and instead of offering her a hand, you showed her a fist.” Clarissa paused, her shoulders tense and brow furrowed.

Hearing that Lienna believed the Goddess hated her made this feel personal because she could have been Lienna. Not in the same raging against the world way but the quiet, resigned way. She was hesitant to share this story, the only one privy to it until now Jorah, but if it would help Auberon understand how to help Lienna, then she supposed she could part with some of it. Saints above, what a way to spend tea with Ioannis. “I very well could have turned into someone much like Lienna. The Alliance doesn’t put much stock in the Church and my father is very much a man of the Alliance but my mother… She is truly a Goddess fearing woman and I do not use the word fear interchangeably with love. She hides away from the world, certain she is to pay penance for the sins of our ancestors through her submission to the church so that her taint won’t spread to others. And if it weren't for Bishop Jehan leading me to the Goddess, I doubt I'd have found the resolve to escape the festering self loathing she intended for me." Clarissa reached out for a pastry, taking a moment to savor the treat.

"If Lienna believes the Goddess hates her, then no amount of scripture will change that. Scripture is for those who find comfort and solace and direction in the Goddess and Her infinite love for her children, not those who feel ostracized and abandoned. Those poor souls are searching for the lighthouse on a stormy night, in a place where their sorrow and despair snatched away your voice like the cruel winds that drive you against the cliffs." Clarissa took another bite, considering how to best put it. She'd feel mortified later but in the moment it just seemed right. After all, how better to capture the feeling of a commoner than with their own vernacular. "As Jorah says, everyone talks big until the trousers come off."

Auberon opened his mouth to protest almost immediately, though the vigor of Clarissa’s outburst led him to stay his tongue until she had said her piece. Clearly he had done something wrong, but he’d hardly call what he offered a fist. What was he to call such a misguided soul other than wrong? Quite frankly, he wasn’t even certain he understood her point. Vulnerability wasn’t a gift, it was a flaw to be ruthlessly exploited in one’s foes and gallantly protected in one’s allies.

“In my defense,” Auberon huffed calmly, “she stormed off right after she said it and I was admittedly a bit too stunned to offer much of substance. It’s hard to evangelize when someone’s already mad at you and, honestly, I’m at a loss on what approach to even take.” He turned his glance searchingly to Ioannis. Child or not, this was doubtlessly his area of expertise, and he was fairly certain Lienna would listen to anyone over Auberon Galatea at this point. He was no bishop leading the congregation for the ignorant masses; he spoke with his blade and he was quite certain there was no way to beat the Goddess into someone, nor would he even want to.

The young boy’s jaw dropped at Clarissa’s words, though he had the manners to close it and properly sink into his seat, uncertain. “Is that how the state of things are…?” His voice was quiet, his comment clearly meant for no one’s ears, but eventually he did pick up his cup of tea. “I don’t see how taking off trousers would help anyone, though.”

After taking a sip of tea, he let out a relaxed exhale. “I don’t believe Auberon did anything wrong. However, a direct approach may not be the best way to go with someone constantly defending themselves. It’s good to take on the problem head on, but separating the person from the issue could help,” He tilted his head as he looked up into the sky. “I still think attending some sermons would still do her well.”

“You’re right, of course. They will once she finds the faith she’s locked deep behind her fear.” Clarissa agreed as she prepared her own tea, thinking back on her conversations with Lienna. “For more practical purposes, treat her like a stray cat. Don’t react negatively when she does something shocking or strange, don’t loom over her and invade her space, don’t push or try strange tricks to try and engage her. Be honest and without deception or subterfuge. Be understanding and open even when she says or does something shocking or strange. And most importantly, offer her your trust even if you don’t have hers. Before anything else, she needs a friend.”

“And don’t doubt yourself, Auberon. The Goddess put Lienna in the holiest of places working alongside one of the most devout men I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. I can’t believe it is simply coincidence that your paths would cross here and now; perhaps it’s the Goddess calling you to rise to new heights, challenging you to overcome an obstacle you haven’t had to face before. It might feel daunting but you’ll always have us beside you!” Clarissa patted his arm encouragingly, eagerly optimistic.

Doubt, she says. Auberon really was out of it if people were under the assumption doubt of all things was his worry. The ‘hurry up and wait’ approach did seem prudent, but it did little to alleviate his current woes. Though apparently Lienna was as much a foreign creature to them as she was to him, so he supposed he shouldn’t have expected a solution handed to him so easily. As always, perseverance would do him good - it wasn’t like he could just give up on her and wipe his hands of the situation even if he wanted to.

“Your praise is humbling, and I agree wholeheartedly. I just wish there were an easier answer,” Auberon lamented as he reached for the saucer containing his cup at last. The aroma was familiar. Bergamot, probably. Needed milk. “Problems that cannot be solved through decisive action are a rarity for me. We Faerghians are… simple like that.” He supposed that in itself was an answer. The Goddess would not hand him a solution if the test itself lied in navigating the situation. All this time, he’d viewed Lienna’s attitude as his ‘enemy’, but was his own frustration and impatience not the true adversary? As in all matters, the nourishment of personal virtue precluded victory.

“Simplicity is often underestimated,” Ioannis added as he put his cup down. “Many things in life would be a lot easier if they were more simple. Alas, we cannot understand why our Goddess created things the way we were. Fortunately, She saw it fit to gift us knowledge so that we may overcome any trial.”

Nodding to himself, he continued, “I believe with time you will find the Lions acting in your favor, Auberon,” He ended up assuring him. “If you ever find yourself at a loss, I’m always happy to assist in any way I can!”

Clarissa was tempted to take the easy segue into discussing the Church's foundation in the Alliance but from his reaction earlier to the truth of the matter, she wasn't confident that he'd have much to offer on the subject right now. Clarissa took a short sip from her cup, humming pleasantly at the taste. "Now that you've offered our poor Lion advice for his woes, maybe I may pick your brain for a moment? Professor Michail is an earnest man when it comes to the sword, spear, or any other art of war and from what we saw at Luin, he has a keen eye for strategy but he seems rather out of place behind an instructor's desk. What made him pursue a life of educating rather than remaining with the main host of the Knights of Seiros?"

Ioannis brought the cup to his lips, though he paused at Clarissa’s question. “I wondered the same thing,” He said, lowering the cup. “He’s much too talented to be a professor.”

The words came out and surprised him. He cleared his throat, shaking his head. “What I mean to say is that Professor Michail was asked, it was not a deliberate choice,” He hastily added. “Lady Arianthe asked him to teach this year as things were shaky after Archbishop Asclepius’ passing. She did make it clear it wouldn’t be a permanent position, but as the focus was on preparing my ascension, perhaps she believed it to be easier to have a Knight teach rather than go out of the way to find someone more suitable for the role.”

He allowed himself to drink for a moment. “I know she expected him to be on the same level as Euphemia, but I feel that comparison to be unfair. Euphemia has always had the intention to teach as she expressed that desire when she attended. Michail has only ever wanted to be a Knight of Seiros. It worked out, Michail was all too happy to be asked, but...I cannot feel as if there is some other motive behind Lady Arianthe’s appointment that I am not aware of.”

"It is strange on the surface. If this was the Roundtable, I'd assume the Lady knew of a threat and preemptively moved a skilled asset where it could best intercept it." Clarissa mused. "Although, it could just as easily be that she wanted him guaranteed to be at Garreg Mach if you had need of him rather than having to hunt him down while he's on a mission."

"You know, I find the difference between them amusing. Siblings so different and while I-sorry Auberon, I mean no disrespect- think having Professor Michail as a dedicated Professor would drive me mad, I find their interactions pleasantly amusing after a particularly rough day." Clarissa admitted with a chuckle. "It's lovely that they get along so well!"

“No arguments here,” Auberon chimed in while he stirred another sugar cube into his tea, “While I have no doubt he’d make a fine mentor to a squire in the field, he’s a bit of an unorthodox choice for a full time instructor.” Not that he minded; his previous tutors had a bit of a ‘sink-or-swim’ approach to their training as well. Michail could do nothing but slap them around the training grounds every day and the blond would still find it worthwhile, though he supposed it would be wise to remember he was here to learn the art of statecraft even more so than the art of combat.

“Still, there must’ve been some reason a knight was asked over, say, Professor Roland. With times being what they are, though, I can’t say I’m displeased.”

Ioannis drank again, letting out a sigh of happiness at the taste. He stayed quiet for a moment, clearing his throat as he thought to himself. “My initial thought is that Lady Arianthe wanted to mimic Ascelpius in that sense. After all, Sirius was a promising Knight before he was asked to become an administrator to the academy. As for Lysander...well, he has too much on his plate to be tasked with teaching multiple classes as well,” His eyes widened a touch, and he fell silent again.

“Goodness, I am...speaking much too comfortably,” He laughed nervously. “Is this what it’s like to converse among friends?”

“I’m glad we put you at ease enough to speak freely then but don’t worry, anything we hear is strictly between us. A conversation between friends doesn’t demand careful words and guarded secrets.” Clarissa reassured Ioannis, picking up a pastry and snacking on it happily. “I did notice Professor Roland was involved in a little bit of everything. Anytime anything happens, he seems to show up in a heartbeat. I’m glad he cares so much about us.”

“But what about you, Archbishop? You’ve been here your whole life right? Will you have the opportunity to visit the other Churches anytime soon? You must want to see the world a little for yourself.” Clarissa asked after she finished eating her pastry. Ioannis seemed a little uncomfortable and she certainly didn’t want that.

Auberon wasn’t certain how he felt about Ioannis describing them as friends. It was somewhere between honor and sacrilege, surely. Not that he had an objection to open friendliness in conversation despite his tendency toward formality, but friends with the Archbishop was certainly never a title the blond ever considered he’d obtain.

“Is that safe? Sorry to embitter the mood a bit, but there was just an attack on the Eastern Church. Until the situation is handled, it might not be wise to leave Garreg Mach.” Auberon paused after he spoke, a vague flash of perplexion written across his face for the briefest moment. Huh, maybe Ioannis had a point. That was pretty forward, even for him. Maybe it was the tea.

Ioannis looked down at his lap for a second, although he ended up shaking his head. “I fear my presence would do more harm than good were I to visit the Eastern Church,” He told the pair. “There are times where the best thing to do is to stay put. Both Adrestia and the Alliance have lambasted the attackers, unifying the countries. Were I to visit, the attention would turn to me instead of the ones who bravely defended the church.”

He paused once again, though he had a thoughtful expression. “After Ascelpius passed, I was visited by the Bishops of the other churches. Normally, I would have had to visit them as is custom for the ascending Archbishop, but the plague still lingered, and many worried for the worst. I do think that I would like to at least visit the other churches in the future, though,” He said, looking over at the garden. “I suppose I’ve always had the odd curiosity for seeing the world, but I’m happy here. I think it’s because I’ve gotten the opportunity to meet so many people–they come from all over to visit the Cathedral or attend the Officers Academy.”

He looked back at Clarissa, his eyes shining. “This place is magical, you know,” He said. “They found me as a baby here, but no guards had seen anyone drop me off. I suddenly appeared underneath the podium, sound asleep, and no one could figure out how I got there.”

He chuckled. “Of course, the more realistic explanation is that my birth mother left me in the care of the church, but I like to pretend otherwise,” He reached over for a pastry, a thought coming to mind. “Though the scriptures do say that Seiros herself did build this place by hand, and that much must be magical, especially with how well built everything is. You see, it is said the Four Saints made sure to coat the Cathedral in protections to ward off evil. That could be one explanation on why the place calms most, and…” The Archbishop launched into an explanation on the history of Garreg Mach, only pausing to eat or drink and delighted at the eager company.


I'm gonna start on a CS for this soon
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